by J. E. Mayhew
Cruelty Has A Human Heart
A DCI Will Blake Thriller
Obolus Books
1
Copyright © 2020 by Jon Mayhew
The right of Jon Mayhew to be identified as the author of this
work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Design and
Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be
reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written
permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
About the Author
Also by JE Mayhew:
For Mike Wright
Although the story is set on the Wirral, the names of some establishments and roads have been fictionalised to protect the unloved and godless...
but you can have fun guessing...
Cruelty has a Human Heart
And Jealousy a Human Face
A Divine Image - William Blake
Chapter 1
Sam Percival knew the moment to get out of this place had arrived when she saw that the paper knife was in just the right place. It looked expensive and sharp with its leather handle and thin silver blade and she’d been waiting for it to be left on her side of Doctor Gillespie’s desk. It matched the office in which she sat, wood panelled, sound muffled by thick carpets and heavy curtains. The letter opener was just the sort she would expect Gillespie to own. The doctor was a small but very well-kept man in his sixties. He wore a green tweed suit, horn-rimmed glasses and had a thick head of hair that he spiked up. Sam was pretty sure it was dyed brown, too. He looked like a member of a geriatric eighties boy band. And who uses a paper knife, these days?
Gillespie leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers over his chest. “So, tell me, Samantha, how have you been getting on?”
Sam tensed. She hated anyone using her full name; Paul did that, spitting out the syllables like they left a bad taste in his mouth. At that moment, she could have snatched up the letter opener and plunged it into Gillespie’s smug face. He was such a condescending prick. Instead she wobbled her head from side to side. “Oh, you know, up and down,” she said and noticed Gillespie’s brow crease. “But much better. Certainly improved…”
“No more dark thoughts?” Gillespie said, leaning forward. “And how do you feel about your husband?”
Sam shrugged. “He only wants the best for me, I guess,” she lied. “I’m not pretending it’ll be easy, settling back in, but I know he did what he thought best for me.” The words almost stuck in her throat, but she knew it was what Gillespie wanted to hear.
“Why won’t it be easy?”
“Well, you know,” Sam said, blinking at Doctor Gillespie. “Being locked up here for months, not seeing my daughter. I mean, it’s hard to forget that he imposed these things on me…”
“Nobody is holding you here. You know you’re perfectly at liberty to leave whenever you want, Samantha.”
Sam craned her neck over Gillespie’s shoulder to look out of the leaded window across the immaculate lawns. “So you’d give me a key to that big iron gate, a lift across miles of cold moorland to the station and and tell me to be back in time for tea?”
Gillespie smirked. “If you felt strong enough to leave then you would. You know nobody would stop you.”
“Then I feel strong enough to leave, Doctor Gillespie,” Sam said. “Can I go and pack my bags?”
The smirk disappeared. “Of course,” he said, his face clouding over. “Let me just make a few phone calls first.”
“Go ahead then,” Sam said, folding her arms.
Gillespie paused, his hand hovering over the phone on his desk. “If you could just wait outside…”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t say anything about me to my husband that you wouldn’t say to my face.”
“Now look, Samantha…” Gillespie began, leaning forward and splaying his hands out on the desk. Sam saw her chance. She snatched up the sharp, pointed letter opener and slammed it down on Gillespie’s outstretched hand with all her might. The impact jarred her arm up to the shoulder and blood splattered on her cheek. Gillespie gasped, his mouth opening and closing in a silent scream, like a landed fish. He stared in stunned silence at the paper knife that now protruded from the back of his hand, pinning it to the desktop. Sam dashed around the other side of the desk and yanked his silk tie off. He groaned as she pulled his good arm behind his back and tied it to the chair. Then she rummaged in his jacket pocket pulling out his car keys.
“You never had any intention of letting me walk out of here, Gillespie,” she hissed at him. “Your job is to keep me here for as long as you can.”
Gillespie had slumped back in his seat, shocked and pale. “My hand…”
“It’ll heal. Stop your whining,” Sam snapped. “And don’t worry, I’ll look after your precious car, but I’m not stopping another second in this place. Be seeing you.”
And with that, Sam Percival stalked out of the room, locking the office door behind her for good measure. She was free at last. Free to go back to the Wirral and see her darling daughter. Free to go and see Paul and finish things once and for all.
*****
He hovered near the playground. The empty swings rocked in the breeze. The children were at school. Thank goodness. He knew he really shouldn’t have been there, but this was where she would be. This was where he’d seen her on the same day, same time every week for at least a month now. His heart thumped with excitement. He thought of the pictures he’d taken of her and shivered. It was a bad thing to do but he’d also managed to work out where she lived just from the background in some of the photographs of her. He’d spent a while hanging around her house, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but then he’d thought that might be a bit creepy and he didn’t want to spoil things. She was small, cute and more than he’d ever hoped for. He could hardly believe it. He could hardly wait, either.
A shiver of anticipation ran through him as he imagined how the morning might stretch out. Licking his lips in anticipation, he scanned the park. It wouldn’t b
e long now and she would be his. All his.
Chapter 2
They were in big trouble. Aiden knew this before anything else happened. They should have been in school, answering to their names when the teacher called them out. Instead, they huddled from the soft November drizzle under a tree, passing a badly rolled joint between them. Birkenhead Park was quiet; the rain or the need to get to work having emptied it of dog walkers. This was a big park with a lake, a Japanese garden and acres of playing fields, trees and bushes; a great place to get lost. Someone had once told Aiden that New York’s Central Park was modelled on it, but Aiden found that hard to believe. It looked so ordinary to him and dreary in the grey morning. He shivered at the cold and looked covetously at the smouldering spliff hogged by his mate, Olly.
They were going to be found out. Aiden could see that now; what seemed like a fool proof plan at first was now so full of holes that he couldn’t see why he thought they’d ever get away with it. It was Olly, though, who always persuaded him. Olly with his look of incredulity at any suggestion of failure. His big round face set in a permanent state of bewilderment at the notion that anyone should question where they were or what they were doing. The same look he wore every time they got caught. Aiden wondered why he fell for it so often.
“It’ll be fine,” Olly said, and took a long drag on the joint. He held the smoke in his lungs for a while then spoke as he let it out. “It’s assembly, now. Mr Carter goes on for ages anyway. We’ll just swear blind we were in there and Miss Donaldson didn’t see us. She’s blind as a bat anyway.” Olly passed Aiden the joint and crossed his eyes. “Aiden Murphy, are you there?” he said in a terrible impression of a Scottish accent. “I know it was you who farted just then!”
Aiden gave a feeble smile and tried to get a final drag from the smouldering stump between his fingertips. The weed was making him jittery and anxious. He wondered why he smoked anyway. “And when they ask us what the assembly was about, what will we say?”
Olly shrugged. “Frogger will fill us in on what was said, stop worrying.”
Aiden’s phone buzzed and he swore at the screen. Several times. Loudly. “I don’t think he will.” He held up the phone to show Olly the text from Frogger.
Where R U? Fire alarm in middle of assembly. Yre fckd.
Olly’s eyes widened and the blood drained from his cheeks.
“What’re we going to do?” Aiden said. “We’d better get back.”
That was when they heard the man screaming. Aiden had heard kids in school yelling and shouts of anger and frustration at Tranmere Rovers matches, but never had a voice had so much fear and desperation in it. It sounded like a name being called over and over again; ‘Flossy’ or something like that. It was hard to tell as the voice was so guttural and loaded with emotion.
“What the f..” Olly muttered and crept from the cover of the trees. Aiden followed, hypnotised by the howls of anguish.
A man in a black duffle coat and jeans ran back and forth around a deserted playground bellowing the name again and again. He looked as if he kept changing his mind about what he should do or which direction he should run. Aiden flinched when the man looked in their direction.
“Lads! Have you seen a little girl?” the man said, hurrying towards them. “About three, wearing a red anorak, yellow dress and blue wellies?”
Aiden shrugged and Olly shook his head. “No, sorry, mate. She didn’t come past here,” Olly said.
The man’s eyes were red and puffy, he smacked the palms of his hands to the side of his head. “Where is she?”
“Do you think you should call the police?” Aiden said.
Olly dug him in the ribs. “Behave. He doesn’t need the bizzies. Anyway, mister, we’re late for school. Hope you find her…”
Aiden nodded, turned and walked straight into a police officer. “Probably worth sticking around lads,” she said, with a smile.
Chapter 3
DCI Will Blake really needed to get to work but he had unfinished business in the shape of a large Persian cat called Serafina. He looked up at the top of the pine Welsh dresser, another throwback to the seventies, courtesy of his deceased mother. Blake veered between loving the old house and wanting to burn it to the ground. Or, more likely, sell it. Serafina was intimately entangled in this complex relationship. But, for once, it wasn’t the cat he had a problem with, it was the reason she was balanced at the top of the dresser, threatening to send half a dozen dusty Country Heritage plates crashing to the ground.
The reason crouched at Blake’s feet, wagging its tiny tail and yapping excitedly up at the indignant cat. “It’s just for a week,” Laura said, squeezing Blake’s arm. “I wouldn’t have agreed but she was in a proper fix.”
“Who the hell gets a puppy and then goes away for a week’s holiday?”
“She didn’t realise that the cottage they hired had a no pets policy and besides Chelsea isn’t really on holiday, she’s visiting her sick mum.”
“Sick mum?” Blake snorted. “She hired a cottage to go and visit her sick mum? You’re a sucker, Laura Vexley, do you know that? The truth is your mate Chelsea thinks it’s okay to just buy a little scrap like that and then beggar off, leaving her mates to clean up the mess.”
Laura pulled a face. “That’s a bit harsh.” She scooped up the little Jack Russell puppy and nuzzled the back of its head. “Anyway, Charlie’s cute, aren’t you Charlie boy? Yus, yus, yus, you are!”
Blake rolled his eyes and shook his head. Charlie wriggled and squirmed in excitement until a yellow stream flew across the kitchen splattering at Blake’s feet and almost sending him up to the top of the dresser with Serafina.
“That’s it,” Blake said. “I’m going to work. You’re the animal expert. I want my cat purring happily on her armchair and not a hint of dog in this house when I come in tonight.”
“Ooh, get you, Mr bossy boots,” Laura said, trying to keep a straight face. “Don’t panic. I’ll work something out.”
Blake looked up at Serafina who hissed at him. “Don’t blame me,” he said before stalking out of the house. She should know better, he thought. Bringing a puppy into the house with a psychotic cat like Serafina was irresponsible. Why was it that Laura seemed to run rings around him? She was good for him, there was no doubt but every now and then, she’d ride roughshod over him with barely a thought.
*****
Blake’s first port of call was a short drive from his house but it was a call he wished he wasn’t making. He scanned the green expanse of Birkenhead Park. In the distance, rooftops poked above the copper-leaved trees that fringed the edges of the space. Space. That was what troubled him at the moment. Space and distance. Something else darkened his mood but he wasn’t going to think about that. It was in the past and he would keep it there for now. He ignored the swirling well of anxiety that sat in the pit of his stomach. He could deal with that later. Right now a little girl had gone missing and they needed to find her fast.
He turned to DC Kinnear “So where are the child’s parents?”
“The father is away at a conference and I haven’t quite got to the bottom of where the mother is. They have a nanny looking after the girl.”
“Jeez, who has a nanny these days, Andrew? Especially round here.”
Kinnear grinned. “I know, sir.” He was a smaller man than Blake and struggling with his weight. His face was puckered into a mischievous-looking smirk which made him seem flippant, but Blake knew that the opposite was true. “The nanny is in the house.” He indicated to the huge villa that stood behind them. “Apparently the girl was there one minute and gone the next.”
Blake and Kinnear stood at the bottom of a long garden which accessed the park through a heavy gate. Some of the houses that edged the park were small, ordinary semis and modern detached properties. But some hailed from the grand days of the park when it first opened. Then the wealthy merchants of Liverpool wanted a little bit of paradise away from the clamour of the docklands and the city’s seet
hing streets. They built villas around the edge of the fashionable park so that they could take the air with their families. When the trade and wealth abandoned Liverpool, the houses fell into disrepair and the park became something of a no-go area. Since then, it had been reclaimed and was fashionable once again. Many of those grand villas had been split into flats and bedsits but a few remained intact; owned by wealthy individuals or passed on through inheritance.
“Come on,” Blake said, leading the way through the well-kept back garden towards the house. “Let’s go and see this nanny, then.”
A conservatory with huge bi-fold doors sat at the back of the house. Inside, a young man huddled in an armchair, cradling a mug of coffee. He was slight, with a straggly beard and his long brown hair tied in a bun. He wore a denim shirt and faded brown chinos. DC Tasha Cook, family liaison officer, sat in a chair next to him. Blake stepped inside relishing the sudden explosion of warmth that this suntrap provided. He nodded to his colleague. “Hi, Tasha. I’m looking for the nanny?”
The young man looked up from his steaming mug. “That’s me,” he said. “I’m Brendan Dockley. I look after Flossy.”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “I’m DCI Blake. I’m sorry, I’d just assumed…”
“That the nanny would be a woman,” Dockley said. His eyes were rimmed with red and he sniffed heavily. “It’s all right. I’m used to it. There aren’t many men doing what I do. Has there been any news?”
Blake shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. We’re assembling search teams already and notifying local media outlets. We need to contact immediate family, of course. Has there been any progress?”
Tasha pursed her lips and shook her head. “Florence’s father has his mobile switched off. He told Brendan that he was at a conference in Peterborough but the hotel he was meant to be staying at knows nothing about him or the event. We’ve contacted her grandparents who live nearby and are coming round immediately.”
“And the girl’s mother?”
