Deadly Intent

by D. S. Butler

  “We’re assuming the man on the number twenty-two bus dumped Ashley’s body?” DC Webb asked.

  “Yes, it’s an assumption, but a logical one. That said, I don’t have a definitive list. According to the pest control expert I spoke with, some people don’t report incidents of bedbugs.”

  Charlotte shivered.

  “How many addresses?” DI Tyler asked.

  “Only three close to the bus route. All three are residential buildings.”

  Tyler nodded. “That’s a manageable number. Look into those addresses and speak to the owners.”

  Mackinnon nodded.

  Tyler turned to Collins with a frown. “Any further news on the CCTV?”

  Collins flushed red. “Unfortunately not. The files are still scrambled. At this point, it’s not looking hopeful.”

  Tyler gave an exasperated sigh and moved on. “I’ll speak to Kate Squires, the family liaison officer. I need her help to get Maxine and Tim Burrows to identify the clothing and other items found at Noah Thorne’s residence. No doubt, he’ll say they were left there when Ashley used to stay at his place. But we need to be thorough.”

  Tyler assigned more tasks, gave a final summary of the status of the investigation and then called an end to the briefing.

  Mackinnon took his notes and went straight to the coffee machine. He needed caffeine before he started contacting the owners of the bedbug addresses.

  He called the first two addresses, making an appointment for later that day. He reassured the residents that it was an enquiry and nothing more. People tended to panic when they were contacted by the police out of the blue. They assumed someone they knew was in trouble or hurt.

  He sipped his coffee then picked the phone up again to call the owner of the third property on Pine Avenue. His search had brought up both landline and mobile numbers, but no one answered either, and unusually, there was no voicemail available.

  He hung up and decided to try again after calling Melissa West.

  There was no answer from her mobile. He’d expected her to be feeling pretty rough after the amount of alcohol she’d consumed, but he needed to speak to her as soon as she was feeling up to it.

  If she suspected Noah Thorne was responsible for Ashley’s death, he wanted to know why.

  Chapter Thirty

  DC Collins walked miserably back to his desk after the briefing. He had really messed up. He wasn’t a newbie. He was an experienced officer who had plenty of investigations under his belt. He wasn’t a novice at using CCTV systems either. He couldn’t even count the number of times he’d downloaded files from different systems and transferred them back to the station, which is why his screwup made no sense.

  It was unfortunate the files got scrambled when they were downloaded. That part wasn’t his fault. But the fact the files had been scrambled and he’d mistakenly deleted the originals, meant he had set this investigation back by days. Maybe weeks.

  It was possible they’d never find Ashley Burrows’s killer, and if they didn’t, he would have to accept responsibility.

  He sank down into the chair opposite his computer and stared at the dark screen. They had to find her killer. He wasn’t sure he could live with himself if they didn’t.

  “There you go.” Someone put a mug of coffee on his desk.

  He looked up, surprised and saw Charlotte smiling at him.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, fine,” he said, trying to talk normally despite the lump in his throat. Then he shook his head. “Actually, no. I’m not all right. Not really. I’ve really messed this up, haven’t I?”

  Charlotte pulled a chair from another desk and sat down beside him. “It was a mistake. We all make them. But we’re still going to get whoever did this to Ashley Burrows.”

  She sounded so certain. Collins wished he had her confidence.

  “I really hope you’re right,” he said.

  “Of course I am.” She nodded at the mug of steaming coffee. “Drink that. Coffee always makes you feel better. I’m going to make a start on the forum posts now. There are a lot of them if you fancy giving me a hand.”

  Collins managed a smile. She was trying to keep him busy, to keep his mind off his failure. “Sure, where do you want me to start?”

  They sat in companionable silence going through the forum posts carefully, highlighting anything that could be of interest.

  At eleven o’clock Collins’s stomach rumbled loudly. He pushed aside his copy of the printouts, rolled his shoulders and stretched. “My stomach is demanding a bacon sandwich. Can I get you anything?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No thanks. I’m fine.”

  “Won’t be long,” Collins said, standing up and grabbing his wallet.

  There was a café just around the corner from Wood Street station. Working in the centre of London meant most types of food were available within a five-minute stroll. That was the plus side of working in the middle of the city. The downside was lack of parking and traffic.

  It was his and Debra’s anniversary tonight. They were supposed to be going for a meal. He wasn’t really in the mood to celebrate, but he wouldn’t let her down. He’d let enough people down recently.

  He sent his wife a quick text.

  Looking forward to tonight. x

  He stepped inside the café and was greeted by the smells of frying bacon, sizzling sausages and freshly brewed coffee. Pleased to see there was only one person in the queue, he stepped up to the counter. He’d known this place to be queueing out the door. They did lovely bacon rolls—the bacon extra crispy, the bread rolls crunchy but light and fluffy inside, and they used real butter.

  Not exactly good for his waistline, but he needed something to cheer him up today.

  After he paid for his bacon roll, he headed back to the station, eating as he walked. He’d finished by the time he got back and carefully wiped the grease from his mouth with a paper napkin.

  As he walked into the main entrance, he paused to pat down his pockets for his security swipe card and overheard part of a conversation between the desk sergeant and an agitated young woman standing at the counter.

  “Look, I know you must have lots of these types of cases, but my sister isn’t the type to just disappear. She met someone on the cureityourself forum, and I haven’t seen her since.”

  The desk sergeant mumbled some sympathetic words and scrawled something on the paperwork in front of him.

  The cureityourself forum? The same forum Ashley had been using? That couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Collins approached the desk.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing as I was coming in. I’m Detective Constable Collins. You said your sister is missing?”

  The woman turned to face him. She was younger than he’d first thought. Maybe nineteen or twenty. She wasn’t wearing any make-up, and her light brown hair had been pulled back off her face and tied with an elastic band. She wore casual clothes, the type you’d wear to the gym.

  “Yes, my sister, Tammy Holt. She told me she was meeting a man called Brendan, whom she’d met on a forum called cureityourself. But she didn’t come home.”

  The desk sergeant intervened. “Miss Holt reported her sister missing yesterday. It’s being handled by DC Black. They are putting in a missing person’s report.”

  “I see,” Collins said. “I’ll speak to DC Black. Miss Holt, I’d like to help. Would you come upstairs with me and tell me more about Tammy’s disappearance?”

  He didn’t mention the fact they were investigating another woman’s murder that could be linked to the forum. Her young face was already tense with fear.

  He didn’t want to scare Miss Holt, but he needed to speak to her. He’d been in this job long enough to know, coincidences like this were very rare.

  He’d messed up the CCTV, but he’d make things right. If luck was on his side, not only would they find Ashley’s killer, but they’d also save Tammy Holt at the same time.

  Melissa West felt
awful. The sun was beating down on the back of her head and she wished she was still tucked up in bed. But that wasn’t an option today. She was on a mission. The sunglasses were helping a bit. She’d bought the oversized, Jackie O shades from Dubai airport.

  Rubbing the middle of her forehead, trying to massage away the pain, she walked briskly to her destination, sidestepping a woman carrying a large takeaway coffee. The smell was very appealing, but Melissa didn’t dare drink anything yet, let alone coffee. She’d had enough trouble with water this morning. As soon as she’d woken up, she’d gulped down a whole bottle of mineral water from the fridge, and then promptly thrown it back up again.

  It didn’t matter. She’d have time to drink later when she was feeling better.

  She paused outside Flyaway Travel Agents and peered in through the tinted windows in between the posters listing bargain flights. It was quiet inside. Good.

  Taking a deep breath she pushed open the door and walked in.

  Heather, Ashley’s boss wasn’t around and there were no clients. Perfect.

  Melissa walked up to Sadie’s desk and sat down.

  Sadie attempted a smile, her usual downturned mouth, curving up at the edges but only slightly. They’d met once before, briefly when Ashley had introduced them when they’d run into each other on a night out. That night Melissa had thought Sadie was shy, a bit mousey, but she hadn’t known the half of it.

  “How can I help?” Sadie asked.

  Melissa reached up and took off her sunglasses and was pleased to see Sadie pale when she recognised her.

  Sadie licked her lips nervously and looked over her shoulder, but they were still alone. “You’re Ashley’s friend, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “I’m really sorry about Ashley, but I’m kind of busy right now. Can we do this later?”

  “No, we can’t.”

  Spots of colour appeared in Sadie’s pale cheeks, and her eyes narrowed beneath her long, flat fringe. “Well, it’s not convenient for me right now.”

  “I don’t care.”

  Sadie put her hands on the desk and linked her fingers tightly together. “Perhaps I should go and get my manager and ask her to remove you from the premises.”

  Melissa felt a cold rush of rage. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Sadie leaned back in her seat, a sulky expression on her face. “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “Because I know your sordid secret, Sadie. Ashley told me everything.”

  Sadie Griffith crouched over the metal wastebasket and tried for the fifth time to light the match. Her hands were shaking. With a grunt of annoyance, she threw the unlit match in the bin and tried again with a fresh one.

  This time a small yellow flame appeared at the end of the match, and she chucked it into the bin, watching eagerly as a small, flickering fire took hold. The paper curled inwards and grew black at the corners before turning to ash.

  Relieved, she stood up and put her hands on her hips. That got rid of the evidence, but it didn’t help with the problem of Melissa West. Sadie had begged her not to go to the police, but deep down she knew she hadn’t convinced Ashley’s friend not to talk.

  She flicked her fringe back from her eyes. There was no way out of this. How had things gone so far?

  Sure, she’d argued with Ashley over Noah. It wasn’t fair. Ashley was pretty and outgoing. She could have her pick of any man she wanted, and she’d told Sadie things were over between her and Noah.

  After Heather had caught them arguing at work, and given them a dressing down, Ashley had invited Sadie to her house for a pizza and movie night to clear the air.

  Of course, like a sad hanger-on, Sadie had gone. A lack of friends, meant she spent most evenings alone. Ashley was fun, lively and lived an exciting life. Sadie wanted to be part of that. Falling out with her only friend had been devastating.

  The memory of that evening still hurt. They’d eaten the pizza, a garden vegan-style one for Ashley and a spicy pepperoni for Sadie. Chatting didn’t come easily and things were stilted, but Sadie really made an effort, then after Ashley had put on the film, she’d fallen asleep. It was like a slap in the face. That made it clear how stimulating she found Sadie’s company. Humiliating.

  She wasn’t proud of what she did next. But really, was it her fault? If Ashley hadn’t been so rude and fallen asleep, Sadie would never have done it.

  The movie was boring, and so Sadie, feeling angry and hurt, had decided to poke around Ashley’s bedroom. She’d spritzed herself with Ashley’s favourite perfume – Dolce & Gabbana, Light Blue. And rifled through her make-up drawer, making mental notes about which foundation and what colour lip glosses she used.

  Then she’d stumbled across Ashley’s diary.

  Her mother always said nothing good came out of poking your nose into other people’s business. But Sadie couldn’t resist opening the pages and started to read.

  She was horrified when she got to the section about her. It was completely biased and unfair. When Ashley woke up, Sadie stuffed the diary back beneath the bed where she’d found it and said she had a headache and needed to go straight home.

  Reading Ashley’s description of her had hurt so much.

  Then, when Ashley went missing, Sadie realised Ashley’s words could be seen in the wrong light. She’d panicked. The last thing she wanted was someone to go rifling around in Ashley’s diary, trying to find clues to her whereabouts, so she’d gone to Ashley’s house and told her parents she was very sorry but she needed to get the curling irons she’d lent Ashley last week.

  They were very trusting, which made Sadie feel even more guilty. They even let her go to Ashley’s room alone, where she quickly shut the door behind her, grabbed the diary and as carefully as she could removed the offending pages.

  Looking back now, she could see it had all been a waste of time.

  She wafted away the curling grey smoke from the bin. It was strange that a few pieces of paper could create so much smoke.

  How could she have been so stupid? Now she was completely out of her depth. She’d burned the pages she’d taken but she wasn’t safe. She should have removed every single page with a mention of her name, but she hadn’t had time with Ashley’s parents just upstairs.

  And after all that stress and worry, it turned out Melissa West knew her secret after all.

  Sadie was running out of options. The way she saw it, there was only one possible way forward.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Tammy rolled onto her side and a wave of dizziness hit her suddenly. She closed her eyes.

  He’d drugged her again.

  Biting down on her bottom lip, she tried not to cry. She was never going to get out of there. He’d brought her a fresh bottle of water a little while ago, and like a fool, she’d gulped it down. The heat in the loft was overwhelming, and she’d been so thirsty.

  The metallic taste should have tipped her off, but she hadn’t been able to resist swallowing the water.

  She slowly opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but it was no use. Her muscles felt like jelly. Exhausted, she flopped back down against the wooden boards and focused on her breathing.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she muttered to herself.

  Once the drugs wear off, I’ll escape. Nothing’s changed. I still have a plan.

  She tried to ignore the terror pushing its way into her thoughts. Her mind was going places she didn’t want it to go. She had to be strong. Imagining the worst wouldn’t help.

  But she couldn’t stop. Why was Brendan drugging her again? What was he going to do to her?

  The room was moving now. At least, that’s how it felt. The floor shifted beneath her as though she was on a life raft rocked by waves. She held a shaky hand up in front of her face, trying to focus on something other than the fear.

  She stifled a sob. There was no point feeling sorry for herself.

  She’d thought up a good plan, but the sedative runn
ing through her system made it impossible to act on. What if this time the drugs didn’t wear off? He might keep giving them to her. Then it would be impossible to escape. What if this was it? The end?

  She’d read somewhere that if she created a rapport with her abductor, it would make it harder for him to hurt her. If Brendan felt like they had a connection, he wouldn’t kill her, would he?

  She wouldn’t be able to make a run for it in this state, but maybe she could still talk to him, try to get his sympathy and tell him he could let her go and she’d tell no one.

  He kept going on about this grand plan of his and how he needed her to help him. Well, maybe she should just go along with it, pretend to be really keen to help and then once she’d gained his trust… Then she could escape.

  But it was hard to create a rapport with a monster. And that’s what Brendan was. He was convinced he was doing nothing wrong, as though abducting someone, tying them up and keeping them in your loft was the most natural thing in the world.

  Trying to reason with him would be pointless. How did you create a bond with a madman?

  She had no idea what the time was. Sleepiness crept over her. Was that because it was nighttime, or simply the drugs? Back home, her mum might be cooking tea, whistling away to the radio. But, no, by now she’d be panicking because Tammy hadn’t come home yet. How long had she been missing? It felt like weeks but as far as she knew it might have only been hours.

  Would Julie have given Brendan’s name to the police? Even if she did, would it help the officers find her? How many people in the City of London were called Brendan? Maybe not too many. It was more of an American name. Tammy’s thoughts were becoming fuzzy.

  She wondered if she should try calling out for help again, but she suspected Brendan was still at home and didn’t want to anger him, especially while she was still under the influence of the sedative and couldn’t fight back.

  Taking three long breaths, she tried to calm her racing pulse. Was that the side effects of the drugs or fear?