Cruelty Has A Human Heart: A DCI Will Blake Novel (DCI Will Blake Crime Mystery Thrillers Book 4)

by J. E. Mayhew

  Blake scratched the back of his head like he was trying to solve a conundrum for the Superintendent. “Yes, it’s not really that straightforward. I suspect Paul Percival also killed Brendan Dockley, whether deliberately or in some kind of scuffle, I’m not sure.”

  “Any evidence?”

  “Dockley’s jumper was embedded with all kinds of food detritus…”

  “Food?”

  “Yeah, like you’d find at the bottom of most domestic freezers, breadcrumbs, frozen peas that kind of thing. The pathologist believes Dockley’s body spent some time in a freezer, which suggests he could have been killed at Paul Percival’s house and dumped in a freezer. It’s ground for a warrant, at least. I’m pretty sure we’ll find matching food fragments in Percival’s freezer and maybe some other traces of Dockley.”

  Martin sighed. “I suppose it’s just going to be another one of those days. At least the girl is safe. That’s all they need to know. We can keep other names under wraps for now.”

  “Can I make a suggestion, sir? How about giving Kath Cryer another round in front of the cameras. I mean you’re always saying that my old TV persona clouds the issue, and she was present at the last one.”

  Martin stared at Blake suspiciously. “I thought you’d be eager to get back in front of the cameras, Will.”

  “No sir. As I keep telling you, I’ve had more than my fill of limelight. If Kath’s presence at the news conference keeps things low key, then I’m all for it.”

  “I see. Fair enough. Get Kath in and I’ll go through the details with her,” Martin said, leaning back. A weight seemed to have lifted from his shoulders.

  “I’ll crack on, then,” Blake said. “I’m pretty sure Ian Vale will crumble once he realises that the Percivals have dropped him in it.”

  *****

  Ian Vale arrived at the interview rooms with Geri Sharpe more penitent than Blake could have hoped for. There was none of his previous swagger as he sat hunched at the interview table. “I want to come clean,” he said. “I did help the Percivals to frame Leonard Hill but it wasn’t my idea.”

  “So how did you even come to be speaking to the Percivals in the first place?”

  “I knew about Leonard Hill,” Vale said. “A mate of mine reckoned he’d caught him trying to pick up his daughter after school. He recognised him as a local fella and warned him off. But I reckoned we could catch him out. So I did a bit of research and the Undine Percival case had been all over the papers twenty years ago. It soon came up online.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you approached the Percivals if you had no intention of framing Hill,” Blake said.

  “I went to see them to get some background,” Vale said. He reddened a little. “I thought they might fund our Facebook group, too. It costs money tracking these paedos down. They’re clever. You need some decent kit.”

  “I can’t imagine your request for funds went down too well,” Blake said. “I mean, the Percivals don’t look like the most hi-tech couple…”

  “You’d be wrong, though,” Vale said. “Once I showed them what we did, they were mad keen. It was that Xanthe who had the idea. She saw Geri confronting that other paedo on the Facebook page and asked who she was. Then she asked how far she’d go to put a pervert like Hill in prison.”

  “Those were her exact words?”

  Vale nodded. “Yeah. I was a bit shocked, to be honest. I mean, a respectable old lady like that…”

  “So what did you get out of this?”

  “One less paedo on the streets?” Vale said, with a shrug. “I was hoping if we went along with it, the Percivals might stump up a bit more cash for the cause, you know. People like Leonard Hill are a menace. They’re always up to no good, aren’t they? It’s no skin off my nose if he’s banged up for something he didn’t do. Anyway, he got away with killing that poor little disabled kid, didn’t he?”

  “No, Mr Vale, he was found guilty of manslaughter,” Blake said. “So, what was your role?”

  “All I had to do was introduce Geri and the Percivals and then ‘find’ Florence at the end of it all. It was simple, really. Except it didn’t work.” He looked a bit crestfallen. “It was all a bit complicated, really, wasn’t it?”

  “I’d have said so. What was Roland Percival’s take on things?”

  Vale scratched his chin. “I’d say he was less enthusiastic. I remember him saying something about letting sleeping dogs lie or something.”

  “What d’you think he meant by that?”

  “I’m not sure but they’d mentioned their son, Paul. For some reason, Roland didn’t want him to be in on it. He seemed a bit scared of him. They both did.”

  *****

  Geri Sharpe chewed at her nails and wouldn’t meet Kath’s gaze across the table. Vikki Chinn sat next to her, giving Sharpe time to compose herself. “It’s all right for him,” she said. “All he did was pretend to find Florence at the end of it all. He didn’t have to shag bloody Leonard Hill, did he? It’s me that’ll get in trouble.”

  “I’m sure Ian will be held just as responsible as you…”

  “And those bloody stuck-up Percivals. It was their stupid idea!”

  “Let’s focus on what you know and see if we can’t get to the truth,” Vikki said. “So, when did you first know of the plan to frame Leonard Hill?”

  “Ian told me…”

  “Ian Vale?”

  “Yeah, who else? He told me that there was this paedo who’d murdered a disabled kid twenty years ago and got away with it. I said he should be in prison and Ian said it was funny I should say that because that’s what Tor-Paedo were going to do. Put him in prison.”

  “And what did you think of that?”

  “I thought, yeah, let’s do it. I didn’t realise then that I’d have to shag the filthy bastard, did I? That only came up later when Xanthe and Roland came round to my house with Ian.”

  “What did they say?”

  Geri Sharpe winced and pulled a face. “they said I had to get a sample. Of his… you know…”

  “His semen,” Kath Cryer said, watching her squirm.

  “Yeah. Ian had been hunting Hill online and found him easily enough. He was in loads of groups and on all the sites, too. So I gave him the nod…”

  “The nod?” Vikki said.

  “Yeah, you know, the come on. I asked if he fancied a good time. And he said yeah.”

  “Romantic,” Kath muttered. “So how did you get the sample?”

  “How d’you think? I nicked a condom after we’d finished. He didn’t even notice it was gone. I don’t think he could believe his luck. Ian took the condom to Xanthe and Roland who smeared the knickers.” Geri pulled a face. “That’s so fucked up isn’t it?””

  “Just going back, why did you arrange to meet him at the park? Surely that’s the last place he’d want to go with his history.”

  “Ian said that we needed to place him there a few times, so people remembered he’d been there when Florence went missing from nearby. To be honest, I think he was so focused on the sex that he hardly thought about it.”

  “So you met Hill a few times more?”

  “Yeah,” Geri said, shivering. “Ian said I had to so he wasn’t suspicious. It’s all right for him, he wasn’t the one getting poked by Hill. I’ve been with some mingers in my time, but Leonard Hill was just horrible. His breath stunk and his cold, clammy skin made me sick. I daren’t even think of what he’d done before.”

  Vikki pulled a face, but Kath shrugged. “But you went back for more. All for the cause of putting Hill in prison. Very noble, Geri. How much did you charge the Percivals?”

  Geri lifted her head up. “I’m not ashamed of that, they gave me five grand as a gift. Anyway. I was the one doing all the dirty work.”

  “It nearly worked. So what happened on the day Florence went missing?”

  “I didn’t go to the park. I dropped the kids off and went straight to his house. When he rang, I made up some story about the kids and s
aid I’d meet him at the house. He got there about ten to nine or thereabouts and we went inside.”

  “And then?”

  “I had the jiffy bag with the knickers, the bloody tissues and the hair. Once we’d done the deed, he always legged it to the toilet, so I had the chance to hide the things around the house but I had to do the texts asking where he was, too, so that took a bit more time and he came out of the bog early. So I panicked and just stuffed them under his mattress. Then I left. I didn’t have anything more to do with Leonard Hill.”

  “When I came to talk to you, Geri,” Kath said, “you said the same thing almost word for word…”

  “That was Roland Percival. He gave me lines to learn. He said it was just like being in a play. You just had to remember your lines when the police asked you any questions. He said that concentrating on the lines would make me less nervous. Will I go to prison for this?”

  Kath shrugged. “Dunno, Geri. It’s not up to me. But next time, maybe leave the crime fighting up to the police, eh?”

  Chapter 42

  Sam Percival hadn’t been too concerned when she first got off the train at James Street Station in Liverpool. It had just seemed like another morning. Sleepy-eyed commuters shuffled out of the huge lifts. Flossy sat in her pushchair and kicked her feet a few times, grazing people’s legs. Sam tried to stop her but most of Flossy’s victims just gave an indulgent smile.

  It had been her idea to go over to Liverpool and talk to Detective Blake about what had happened. Tasha Cook, the family liaison officer, had offered to work with her at her mum and dad’s house but Sam wanted to get out. Besides, she wanted to get some new clothes for herself and Florence before Paul realised that she was serious about leaving and cancelled her credit card.

  It was only when she stepped out into the cold November light and felt the wind blowing up from the Pier Head that she stopped and glanced around her. Generally, Sam didn’t subscribe to the idea of ‘instinct’ or ‘gut feelings’ but recent experiences had sharpened her awareness of her surroundings. Maybe it was the feeling of being trapped when she was in the clinic or hiding in a stolen car on the way down from Scotland. Whatever it was that made her hypervigilant, she couldn’t escape the feeling that someone was watching her and she weaved through the crowds hurrying to work. And then she saw him.

  Paul Percival stood glaring at her with red-rimmed eyes. She’d never seen him looking so dishevelled. His hair stuck out at all angles, and a few days’ stubble greyed his chin and neck. His shirt and jacket looked crumpled. But it was the sheer malice in his eyes that disturbed her.

  Ramming the pushchair through the crowds, Sam hurried on up the street. She ignored the shouts and complaints as she passed, and kept looking behind her. Her heart thumped against her ribs and she lost track of where she was going. All she wanted was to get away from the grim-faced man following her. Every time she glanced back, he was there, some distance away, slowly weaving his way towards her. Oblivious to what was happening, Florence squealed with excitement as Sam pushed faster. She wasn’t sure where she was now, or where the Police HQ had gone. All she knew was that she was being chased.

  Up ahead of her, Sam saw a sign for Liverpool Central Station and swerved the buggy into the shopping precinct that lead to the station gate. Pulling out her phone and the card Blake had given her at their last interview, Sam stabbed Blake’s number into the screen. Her fingers trembled and she cursed as she fluffed the number. She didn’t have time for this. Paul was gaining on her.

  *****

  DC Andrew Kinnear glanced sidelong at the plate of biscuits that sat on his desk in the Major Incident room. Once again, Madge from the front desk had brought them up, leftovers from another meeting somewhere. Madge thought of Andrew straight away. “Why do middle-aged women always target me with biscuits?” he muttered. “And who the hell leaves a jammy dodger on its own on a plate of Nice biscuits?”

  “Andrew,” Blake said, striding into the office. Kinnear jumped, spraying crumbs across his desk.

  “You okay?” he said.

  “Yes, sir,” Andrew croaked and took a swig of tea from his mug. “Just went down the wrong way.”

  “Nice.”

  Kinnear looked puzzled. “Sir?”

  “Nice biscuits. They aren’t really nice at all are they?”

  Kinnear nodded, looking down at the plate. There were always more of the rectangular, sugar-coated ones with ‘NICE’ stamped into them left behind. “They’re okay, I guess, sir,” Kinnear said. “You couldn’t stamp ‘okay’ across them though, could you? Not a great marketing ploy.”

  Blake took one and wolfed it down. “It’s all they are, though, really. They’re just okay.” They stared at the plate in silence for a second or two. “You have to feel a bit sorry for them.”

  “The biscuits doomed to be left behind,” Kinnear said.

  Blake shook himself and slipped another biscuit from the plate. “They’re nice when you’re hungry, though.”

  Before Kinnear could answer, Blake’s phone rang.

  “Blake. Sam? What’s wrong? Slow down. Stay calm. Where are you? Right, just find the nearest member of staff and tell them what’s… Sam? Sam?” He slammed the phone down. “Get some officers down to Central Station, right away, Kinnear, then follow me there. Sam Percival’s in danger.”

  *****

  Central Station was just ten minutes’ walk from Police HQ in Canning Place but as Blake ran, dodging around people, it seemed to get no nearer. Cars blared their horns as he sprinted across the road, narrowly dodging a bus. When he finally got to the entrance of the station, a police car was pulling up, lights flashing. Blake whipped out his warrant card.

  “There’s a woman down there being chased by her husband. He’s a murder suspect and may be violent.”

  They ran through the shopping area to the ticket barrier where a member of Mersey Rail staff waved them through. A pushchair lay abandoned on its side at the top of the escalator. Blake took the escalator two steps at a time, just hoping he didn’t lose balance and plummet down the steep flight of metal steps. At the bottom, he barrelled round onto the platform towards the screams that echoed in the tunnel.

  A crowd gathered at the end of the platform. People were shouting, and some held their phones up, recording everything. Blake pushed his way forward as the officers followed him, telling people to move back up to the ticket area.

  Paul Percival stood pressed against the wall at the end of the platform, on the edge where the tunnel opened into the boarding area. He had a knife near Sam’s face. Florence huddled behind his legs, her eyes squeezed shut as though she was trying to block out what was going on. Clearly, he’d gone for Sam but passengers waiting for a train had challenged him and now there was a stand-off. Three burly men in bomber jackets and a Mersey Rail guard hovered just out of arms’ reach of Paul, uncertain what to do next.

  “Paul, are you okay?” Blake said, indicating to the men that they should fall back.

  Paul sneered at Blake. “What? You care about me all of a sudden? Instead of this… this piece of work? Ha!”

  “Your daughter was safe, Paul, that’s all that matters. But she doesn’t look too happy right now. You don’t look very happy, either.”

  “I’m not,” Paul said, spittle flecking his lips. “The ingratitude. That’s what really grates on me. I dragged her out of the gutter. Gave her a child and a perfect house but, no, she wants more.”

  Sam whimpered and he tightened his grip on her neck.

  “That must be annoying, Paul but you can rebuild your life, can’t you? You don’t need her, do you?”

  Paul froze for a second as he thought about what Blake had said. “No but she’s betrayed me. She’s going to take my child away from me. I have rights too, you know!”

  “Of course you do, Paul,” Blake said, keeping his voice level. “How about letting Flossy come over here to me?”

  “No,” Paul snapped, bringing the blade close to Sam’s throat. “Sh
e’s staying here. She’s mine.”

  A breath of cold air ruffled Blake’s hair. “A train’s coming Paul. At least do me the favour of moving away from the tunnel entrance. You’re too close, there. It’s not safe.”

  “I don’t owe you any favours, Blake,” Paul hissed. “You’ve had it in for me from the moment we met. Berating me for not being upset enough about the disappearance of my daughter.”

  The breeze grew stronger and a distant rumble heralded the imminent arrival of the train. “Paul come away from the edge, please.”

  “Maybe I want to be here. Maybe I’ll end it all and take this bitch with me,” Paul yelled, tears of rage streaming down his cheeks. “Maybe I’ve killed before, Blake! What difference is one more going to make?”

  Sam’s eyes widened in horror and she lurched forward away from Paul as the roar of the train filled the tunnel. The world slowed down. Blake watched helplessly as Paul pivoted on one leg and Flossy suddenly sprang forward, pushing her dad to one side to get to her mum. Sam, grabbed Flossy and wrapped herself around her, rolling to safety across the platform. Paul’s eyes widened as he almost cartwheeled off the platform into the path of the train that exploded into the tunnel with a shriek of brakes. A meaty thud accompanied the mist of red blood that spattered the front of the train and platform. Then Paul vanished under the train and it howled by, screeching to a halt a second later. Screams of horror replaced the sound of the brakes and, for a second, Blake tried to process what had just happened. He looked down and saw Sam huddled on the floor, hugging Florence who shuddered in her arms.

  Chapter 43

  The prison visiting room seemed restless today, as though everyone in there was agitated and argumentative. Maybe it was just the way Josh Gambles sat opposite Jeffrey Blake, twitching his leg and glancing around all the time. He didn’t seem very interested in Jeff’s news about Laura.