At First Glance

by Paul Gitsham

  ‘I was supposed to just be a cleaner, living in England for a while to learn English before going to university. But Wes – that’s Mr Gilmartin – was away on business a lot, so I ended up doing more and more to help out. His mother lived with them at the time, but she was very old and frail. Eventually she was moved into a home and they suggested I move in. I suppose I became Maddie’s au pair. The pay was good, but with the money I was sending home, I could never save enough for university ,so in the end, I just stayed with my new family.

  ‘I think we all knew that Anna – Maddie’s mother – wasn’t well after the birth. Looking back on it, I realise she was suffering from severe post-natal depression. But Wes is very old-fashioned about these sorts of things. He sees mental illness as a weakness that you can overcome if you are strong enough. I was so young at the time that I didn’t know any better. If Anna stayed in bed for a few days, I just spent more time with Maddie.’

  Polivanova took a sip of water, before starting again. ‘Eventually Anna seemed to get over the depression, and by the time Maddie was about one year old, she was doing most of the caring and I went back to being a housekeeper.

  ‘But it never really left her. Every once in a while, particularly in winter, it would come back and she’d go back to bed again. Even then, Wes wouldn’t let us call a doctor. “She’s just in one of her funny moods,” he’d say, “give her time, she’ll get over it.” I was too young to know any better, and of course Anna was too ill to do anything about it herself.’

  A flash of anger crossed Polivanova’s eyes. ‘I try not to blame Wes; it was the way he was brought up. But I still can’t believe that he was too proud to seek help – that he would rather let his wife suffer in silence.’

  ‘What effect did it have on Maddie?’ asked Warren gently, when the silence threatened to continue indefinitely.

  ‘At first, it didn’t seem to bother her. She knew that Mummy was feeling a bit unwell and needed some rest. I think at that age she just thought she had a cold or the flu. I’d distract her by taking her out for the day or we’d play in the garden.’ Polivanova smiled at the memories. ‘And then when Maddie was six years old…’

  She covered her mouth with her hands but kept on talking. ‘Anna had been feeling down for days; Wes was away on business God knows where, and so I took Maddie to the zoo for the day. We got back late afternoon. I’ll never forget it…’ Her voice became flat, even as the pain rippled across her face. ‘I had some shopping in the car and Maddie needed the toilet, so as soon as I unlocked the front door, she ran upstairs… the scream. I still hear it sometimes… I ran up there and found Anna… she was in the bath… so much blood.’

  Her shoulders shook as she broke down completely.

  Warren waited in respectful silence as her solicitor put her arms around her and whispered quietly into her ear. Even Grimshaw was still.

  Eventually the housekeeper continued. ‘Maddie never really spoke about that day, but she was never the same again. The happy little girl she once was… she was still there, but sometimes I thought it was an act. Maybe it was something she learned from her mother, or maybe she just didn’t want to disappoint her father, who even after everything, still saw depression as a weakness to be ashamed of. I’d sometimes see her looking sad, and when I’d ask her what the matter was, she’d force this big smile and say it was nothing.

  ‘And that’s how she was for years. At school she worked hard; in the evenings she did gymnastics and ballet and even used to help out at the local stables. Of course, I’d have to take her everywhere.’

  Polivanova smiled again, despite the tears still filling her eyes. ‘We spent hours in the car together. When her dad was away, we’d spend the evening cooking in the kitchen, or snuggled up watching films on the TV. A few years ago, she got a karaoke system for Christmas. She loved Eighties music and so we’d put on wigs and brightly coloured make-up and pretend to be The Bangles or Bananarama. Some days she was like a little sister; other days it was like she was my daughter. She was my best friend.’

  ‘When did things change, Yulianna?’ asked Warren.

  Polivanova took the tissue offered to her by her solicitor and blew her nose.

  ‘She did really well at her GCSEs, but when she went to sixth form, things started to go wrong. Her dad reckons it was because the sixth form was mixed boys and girls. I guess that was part of it, but I think it was more than that. My room is downstairs, next to the front door, and I’d hear her going out late at night and coming back in the early hours of the morning. I could smell the cigarette smoke on her clothes and the booze on her breath. I tried to talk to her about it, but she told me to shut up. She said I wasn’t her mum.

  ‘Wes told you that she failed her AS levels. It was because she was partying with older students who had already finished their exams. Her dad was on a trip to Hong Kong and she just ignored me. I know that she missed two exams, because the school’s exams officer rang my mobile to try and track her down. For at least two others she was sick and hungover from the night before.

  ‘She should have been kicked out then, but Wes bought the school a minibus – that’s always been his answer to everything. Throw money at the problem and it’ll solve itself.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She dropped out of sixth form before she took her exams. Her dad was furious. I tried to speak to both of them, but neither would back down. I told Wes that she needed her dad, but he said it was a bad time for the firm.

  ‘He was a coward. He didn’t know how to deal with her, because he’d never been there. He left it to me. But she was hardly speaking to me.’

  ‘When did she meet Kyle Hicks?’

  ‘About a year or so ago. The first time I saw him, I knew he was trouble. At first, I just thought it was a bit of rebellion; you know, dating the bad boy to get back at daddy. But soon it was becoming more serious than that.

  ‘You’ve probably seen that Maddie’s family are wealthy; Wes runs a very successful business, and Anna came from money. There was a clause in their will that said that if either of them died, a trust fund would be set up in Maddie’s name. When Maddie turns twenty-one, she’ll inherit a significant amount of money. I think Kyle Hicks knew this and he was stringing her along until he got her money.

  ‘I figured the relationship would fade out of its own accord. But then she started staying over at his flat when her dad was away; other times I smelt weed and I think she started using other drugs.’

  Suddenly the tears were back again.

  ‘I could see it happening, like a train wreck in a movie. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t face losing her because of the likes of Kyle Hicks.’

  ‘We know that everything you’ve told us is because you wanted to protect Madison,’ said Warren.

  Polivanova nodded.

  ‘But now it’s time to stop lying.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ She looked surprised.

  ‘We know that Cameron didn’t buy that knife, the CCTV footage clearly shows us that. The killer was left-handed, and you’ve been sipping water for the past few hours with your right hand. Your fingerprints also don’t match the beer cans that we found in Bradley Wiseman’s recycle bin. You’ve been spinning us a pack of lies for the past few hours, Yulianna.’

  ‘No! Everything I said was true.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t disagree that the killing happened just as you described it. It happened just as it was told to you. Except for the bit about killing Cameron Bird, because that only happened yesterday.’

  Warren stood, pushing his chair back.

  ‘Yulianna Polivanova, you are no longer under arrest for the murder of Bradley Hicks. However, you are now under arrest for conspiracy to pervert the course of justice. Interview suspended.’

  As he left the interview suite, he could hear Polivanova’s cries behind him.

  ‘No, you’re wrong! I did it. I killed him! You must believe me!’

  The door closed behind him.
Shaun Grimshaw stood in the corridor, excitement gleaming in his eyes.

  ‘We’re ready when you are.’

  ‘No time like the present.’

  Warren led the way down the corridor to interview suite two, entering without knocking.

  ‘Madison Gilmartin, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Kyle Hicks and Cameron Bird…’

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  Acknowledgements

  Wow, number nine in the series! As always, this book has been a team effort. First of all, huge thanks to my beta readers, Dad and Cheryl, for sparing my blushes and giving me useful advice. Lots of gratitude as always to the team at HarperCollins and HQ Digital, particularly Abi for her editing and Clio for her advice over the years, and the design team for another fantastic cover.

  My favourite lawyers, Caroline and Dan, have kept me on the legal straight and narrow (needless to say, all errors are mine!), whilst Hertford Writers’ Circle have given me valuable encouragement and feedback.

  My friends in The Crime Writers’ Association and the wider crime writing community have helped keep me sane and recharged my batteries – I never fail to feel inspired to write after spending time with my fellow scribblers.

  And finally, to my readers. Knowing that thousands of complete strangers have taken time out of their busy lives to spend time with Warren and the team during their latest adventure makes it all worthwhile.

  Until the next time!

  Best wishes,

  Paul

  Letter from the Author

  Hello once again!

  For those of you joining me for the first time, welcome, and I hope you have enjoyed the ride. For those of you who have come back for more, thank you for your support and I hope that this latest instalment lives up to your expectations.

  Regular readers of the series will know that there have been a lot of changes to the team over the past few books, and I hope that you enjoy reading about my friends, old and new, as much as I have enjoyed writing about them.

  Warren and the team have plenty more adventures to come, so I hope to see you again.

  Until the next time, best wishes,

  Paul

  P.S You can keep up to date with the latest news on my Facebook page, facebook.com/dcijones, my Twitter feed @dcijoneswriter, Instagram @paulgitsham and my website paulgitsham.com, where you can also sign up for my newsletter.

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  Read on for an excerpt from the next DCI Warren Jones novel…

  A Price To Pay

  Prologue

  The branches whipped at her face as she crashed through the trees. Her breath caught in her throat, her lungs labouring to keep up. Behind her, dogs barked and snarled, and she heard the shouts of her pursuers. The further into the woods she plunged, the darker it turned, the thickening canopy of leaves blocking ever more light.

  A sudden burst of pain sent her sprawling to her knees, a fist in her mouth muffling her cries.

  She couldn’t go on anymore.

  She couldn’t.

  Maybe if she turned around and went back they’d forgive her.

  Maybe if she begged…

  A shot rang out.

  Going back wasn’t an option.

  She’d just seen what they did to deserters.

  She’d seen what they did to women like her.

  She gritted her teeth, forcing herself back to her feet. She needed to continue her flight, putting as much distance as she could between her and the following men, before running was no longer possible.

  She pushed on. The dogs were louder and she shuddered at the memory of them. Huge, slavering things, she’d seen the way they attacked the dead rabbits thrown to them; chained up all day, they would be beside themselves at the prospect of a real, live prey to chase down.

  The road was only a few hundred metres away; it was a busy two-lane highway and the hiss of traffic was audible even at this time of night. There was no way her pursuers would risk chasing her onto it.

  She stumbled again, her foot sinking into a depression in the soft earth. She tried to get up, she really did, but she was exhausted.

  What had she been thinking? Nobody ever escaped. Those that tried were dragged back and used as an example to everyone else.

  Another shot cracked the night sky open.

  It was closer than the last, and the dogs were even louder.

  The extra surge of adrenaline was enough to spur her on.

  But her pace was now little more than a brisk walk.

  It was the best she could do.

  The sound of the road, the sound of freedom was getting louder, but the sound of the dogs was getting louder more quickly.

  Another unseen obstacle, and she ended up flat on her face.

  What was the point? Everything that she loved in the world was now gone. She rolled onto her back, too exhausted to care about the blood trickling down her face from her broken nose. She felt her eyes close. Just a few seconds rest…

  This time the shot was so close, she heard the leaves above her rustle.

  No! She wouldn’t give in. Too much had already been sacrificed. If she gave up, if she died here, those sacrifices would have been in vain and the memory of his selfless love would die with her.

  Clambering back to her knees, she half crawled, half walked, towards the road.

  This time when the pain came, there was no ignoring it.

  ‘No, no, no,’ she whimpered. Not now. Just a few minutes more.

  Behind her, she heard the baying and snapping of the dogs and the shout of their handlers.

  It was over. The dogs would be on her in seconds. There was no way she could keep ahead of them now. Sinking to her knees, she prayed to a god who seemed to have been deaf to her pleas for as long as she could remember.

  Please make it quick.

  She fell to her side, welcoming the encroaching darkness, looking forward to the release from suffering.

  Suddenly, bright, dazzling beams of lights cut through the trees, turning night into day wherever their dancing cones landed. Overhead the night was shattered by a loud clattering. Now she could hear the handlers shouting, calling back their snarling charges.

  But she was too far gone to care, wave after wave of pain passing through her, until eventually the darkened forest finally turned pitch black and she remembered nothing more.

  Monday 02 November

  Chapter One

  It had been a fairly quiet few weeks – some might even say boring. DCI Warren Jones felt his head start to dip and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands. Nodding off in the middle of a budget meeting before they even got to the coloured printouts of this year’s projections would be rude, e
specially in a room full of his peers, some of whom seemed to regard it as the most exciting event in their calendar.

  There weren’t even any decent biscuits.

  What he wouldn’t give for some real policing right now. A good, meaty case he could get his teeth into, with leads to chase down and suspects to grill.

  The current speaker switched slides. A quick look at the graph with its downward trends told Warren everything he needed to know. Fewer front-line officers, less money to pay for outsourced forensics services, and another cull of support staff. It didn’t seem as though the cuts extended to turning the heating down in the briefing rooms, although it was a mystery to him why this even required a meeting; an email would have sufficed.

  Warren resisted the urge to look at his phone, sitting face down on the desk in front of him. He hated when people did that, it was the height of bad manners.

  On the opposite side of the room, the door opened, and a middle-aged man with a name badge on a Hertfordshire Police lanyard came in. Apologising to the speaker, he scuttled around the table. Warren saw glimmers of disappointment on the faces of his colleagues as the support worker passed them by. He felt a surge of much-needed adrenaline as it soon became apparent that the man was heading for him.

  ‘Lucky bugger,’ muttered the DSI sitting next to him.

  The man leaned down and spoke quietly into Warren’s ear.

  Hiding a smile of relief, Warren apologised to the rest of the attendees and made his way to the door. Clearly, somebody upstairs had been listening to his silent pleas.

  Be careful what you wish for.

  The crime scene was already surrounded by a cordon when Warren arrived. An ambulance, lights off, sat silently. Two paramedics sat on the back step of the parked vehicle, keeping the chill November air at bay with a thermos of coffee. Their patient was well beyond anything they could do.