Dead Souls: A gripping serial killer thriller with a shocking twist Book 6

by Angela Marsons

  He got in the car and took out his phone. She did the same. There was something she wanted to know.

  Doctor A answered on the second ring.

  ‘Doc, I need a little help on something. The dig, the location, everything. Who exactly was it from the family that gave their consent?’

  ‘Waiting one minute while I check my paper works.’

  Kim drummed her fingers on her leg as Travis wrote down an address.

  ‘I have it,’ Doctor A said. ‘It was authorised by Miss Fiona Cowley.’

  Kim thanked her and ended the call. Three seconds later, so did Travis.

  As she glanced sideways, she smiled at the evidence bag in his lap.

  ‘You know we’ll never be able to use that?’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, but aren’t there times when you just have to know?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Kim said, throwing the car into reverse. And right now, everything she wanted to know needed to come from Fiona Cowley.

  EIGHTY

  ‘Hurry up,’ Bryant shouted in his ear.

  ‘I’m trying,’ he snapped, typing in the date. He was reminded of those dreams where body parts would not respond to the brain’s command.

  ‘Jack said an hour ago. Try from one fifteen.’

  Dawson ignored the command and entered one o’clock dead. He would fast forward until he saw her. He’d spot those knitted Fair Isle tights anywhere.

  ‘Go slow,’ Bryant said.

  ‘Shut up,’ Dawson snapped, focussing on the screen.

  There were three cameras that covered the exterior of the station. One was directly above the entrance, pointing down to capture all persons going in and out. The second was fixed to the east side, facing the front car park. The other was fixed to the west side, covering the rear of the building. That left two black spots that Dawson knew about.

  Silence filled the room as the two of them focussed on the three images running alongside each other. Dawson dared not breathe in case he missed her.

  He watched as officers came and went, two civilians entered and left.

  ‘There she is,’ Dawson said, as Stacey’s familiar figure appeared on the front and west facing camera at the same time.

  Dawson wasn’t prepared for the lurch of his stomach on seeing her.

  She took two steps forward, moving out of the view of the entrance camera, leaving only the west view on screen.

  ‘What’s she looking for?’ Bryant asked, rhetorically.

  Dawson watched her bowed head as she looked from right to left.

  ‘No, Stace,’ he said to the screen as the figure began to move to the east, away from the camera view.

  If she walked around the corner, she would be beside the shrubbery and lost from view unless she reappeared at the rear of the building.

  As she disappeared he clicked on to the camera that covered the rear.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, urgently, desperate to see her form again.

  The timer continued to climb towards the moment they’d returned to the station.

  Stacey didn’t reappear.

  She had never left the area where they’d found her broken phone.

  For a long moment, they simply stared at each other. He saw every ounce of his own fear reflected in his colleague’s eyes.

  Dawson swallowed his panic as Bryant stood.

  ‘We have to see Woody. Now.’

  EIGHTY-ONE

  ‘Stay in the car,’ Kim said, as she pulled up outside Fiona’s house in Fairfield.

  Travis nodded. They really were going to have to head back to the office to get him a fresh pair of shoes.

  The house was a detached property on a main road used by motorists wanting to avoid the A38. With its post office and general store the area had a village feel to it.

  Kim didn’t hold out any real hope of finding Fiona at home. The red Jaguar wasn’t parked on the drive, and she spied no evidence of activity within.

  Kim knocked and waited only a few seconds for a response before looking through the letterbox at a short hallway with stairs and two open doors. She listened keenly but there was no sound.

  She turned to Travis, shook her head and pointed to the side of the house.

  The waist-high fence was broken by a narrow gate, which stood open.

  The back of the house was tidy, with a small lawn and a rockery. Three items of clothing hung on a rotary clothes line.

  Kim touched them. They were sopping wet, but there had been no rain since the previous morning.

  She tried the back door. It was locked. She stepped back and appraised the property. No windows had been left open.

  ‘Damn it,’ Kim said, peering into the kitchen window.

  The room was tidy, with just a plate and coffee mug resting on the sink drainer.

  She sighed. Much as she wanted to break in to the property, she knew she didn’t have cause. Fiona Cowley was a grown woman, and Kim had no real grounds to fear for her safety.

  She took a step and then paused. A scratching noise sounded from the garden shed. Kim stood still and listened again.

  The sound of her mobile phone startled her. She took it out and cancelled the call. Now was not the time to update her boss. She would call Woody back later.

  Again she heard the scratching. She put the phone back into her pocket and tried the handle of the shed door.

  She opened it slowly.

  ‘Jesus,’ she exclaimed, as the source of the scratching became clear to her.

  The entire left side of the space was occupied by an oversized cage that held an abundance of hay. She stepped closer. The hay was moving.

  Suddenly a black-and-white head popped out and squeaked at her.

  Kim rolled her eyes. A guinea pig. Beside the cage were containers of dried food and a row of bottled water.

  She frowned as the thing moved to the far edge of the cage. Fiona had not come across as the animal-loving kind.

  The creature began to suck on a bottle that made a clicking noise. The water bottle was empty. She looked closer. Only a few green flakes of something remained in the food bowl.

  Kim rubbed her chin. A cage the size of a mansion, bottled water. Clearly, she loved this strange-looking creature. Kim opened the food container, took a handful of the food and dropped it into the dish. She unhooked the water dispenser and refilled it from one of the bottles.

  There was only one explanation that made any sense to her.

  Fiona hadn’t come back because she couldn’t.

  ‘Stone… Stone… where?…’

  She stuck her head out of the shed door.

  ‘I think Fiona Cowley—’

  ‘Forget that,’ Travis said, holding out his mobile phone. ‘Your boss wants to speak to you, right now.’

  Kim frowned before taking his phone. It had been less than two minutes. He wasn’t normally so impatient for an update.

  ‘Sir?’ she said, an apology ready in her mouth.

  ‘I need you back here, right now. Stacey is gone.’

  Kim felt her face pulling into a frown. What the hell was he talking about? Had the guys upset her so much she’d walked off the job?

  ‘Sir, I’ll give her a call and—’

  ‘Not that type of gone, Stone. She’s been taken, snatched, abducted from the bloody station car park.’

  Kim felt the ground move beneath her feet. He wasn’t making sense. If this was Woody’s idea of a joke then she was waiting for the punchline. And it had better be a good one.

  ‘Stone,’ he growled into the silence.

  It wasn’t a joke and there was no punchline.

  She began to shake her head in denial. ‘No… no… sir, that’s not…’

  ‘Stone, get back here. I want every available body on this, now.’

  The line went dead in her hand.

  Stacey, taken? How the hell?…

  ‘Stone, you okay?’ Travis asked.

  She slowly began to shake her head.

  No, she really didn’t think she
was.

  EIGHTY-TWO

  ‘Bloody hell, Kev, take it easy,’ he said, wishing he’d never handed Dawson the keys. He had done so only because he’d been on the phone to Woody at the time.

  ‘And the guv said to head straight to Kidderminster.’

  ‘We’re almost there,’ Dawson said, taking a sharp left and hitting the accelerator as the road opened up into dual carriageway.

  ‘Kev, slow down,’ he urged, as the car swerved around anything travelling slower than seventy miles per hour.

  Dawson ignored him. He crossed the dual carriageway to enter the housing estate. A minibus sounded the horn. Bryant held up his hand in an apology. Dawson took the next left and a right before pulling up in a marked parking area.

  ‘That one,’ he said, opening the door.

  He was heading up the path before Bryant had his seatbelt off.

  Dawson banged continuously on the door.

  It began to open, slowly.

  ‘Kev…’ Bryant warned.

  The second Dawson saw who was behind it, he pushed forward. His right hand reached up and clamped around the throat of Gary Flint.

  ‘Where is she, you racist bastard?’ he cried, forcing the man against the wall. A picture frame teetered and then clattered to the floor.

  ‘What the… what are?…’

  ‘Don’t play dumb, you fucker. Just tell us where she is. You told us this thing was bigger so what the hell has happened to our colleague?’

  A middle-aged woman came hurtling out of the kitchen with a tea towel in her hand.

  ‘What do you think?…’

  ‘Step away, madam,’ Bryant said, assuming he was speaking to Flint’s sister. It was her address he had registered, due to the restraining order preventing him living near the Kowalskis.

  He moved around Dawson and prevented the woman coming any closer. She looked in horror at her brother pinned up against the wall.

  Bryant turned his back on her shocked expression.

  ‘Where is she?’ Dawson repeated, giving him another shove.

  Realisation dawned in Gary Flint’s eyes.

  ‘Your colleague, she’s been taken,’ he stated.

  ‘And you know something, you bastard. Now tell me.’

  ‘I don’t know—’

  ‘You knew she’d gone. Who has her? Where is she?’ Dawson barked.

  Bryant saw the smirk begin to form. Dawson saw it too. He tightened his grip on Gary Flint’s throat.

  ‘So help me, God, I’ll squeeze the life out of you if you don’t give me something.’

  Bryant knew they were both risking their careers. Dawson with his hand on the man’s throat, and his refusal to do anything about it. But this was Stacey. Bryant wanted Flint to talk as much as his colleague did.

  ‘A name,’ Dawson screamed in his face.

  ‘Let him down,’ the woman cried as his face began to flush.

  ‘Stay out of it,’ Bryant hissed.

  ‘A name,’ Dawson repeated, bringing his face closer.

  ‘He doesn’t know,’ the woman said.

  ‘Yes, he does,’ Bryant said.

  ‘One name,’ Dawson said.

  The colour in his face was deepening. A gurgle sounded in his throat.

  ‘Let him down,’ she screamed. ‘He’s going to die.’

  ‘He might,’ Bryant said.

  ‘A name,’ Dawson said, as Flint’s eyes began to roll.

  ‘He’s killing him,’ she cried. ‘Make him stop.’

  Bryant shook his head, despite the fact he was two seconds away from pulling him away himself.

  ‘Let him down and I’ll give you a name,’ she shouted.

  Dawson loosed his hold and let Flint drop to the ground.

  ‘No… Miriam… don’t…’ Flint gasped.

  Tears streamed down her face. Bryant turned to her expectantly. ‘A name?’ he said.

  ‘Floda,’ she said, quietly. Her eyes were fixed on her brother, heaped against the wall.

  ‘That’s all I know. The name is Floda.’

  Dawson offered them both a look of disgust before leaving the house.

  Bryant followed.

  ‘What the hell kind of name is that?’ Dawson asked. The rage inside him would only have been quashed if he’d beat the racist pig senseless.

  Bryant’s footsteps slowed as the name lit up in his mind’s eye.

  ‘Damn it,’ he said, as they reached the car. ‘Floda. It’s Adolf spelled backwards.’

  Dawson visibly paled.

  ‘Bryant, I’m not afraid to admit I’m a bit scared right now. You?’

  ‘No, Kev. I’m fucking terrified.’

  EIGHTY-THREE

  ‘Go,’ Travis said, as they pulled up on the car park.

  She nodded and sprinted into the building. Travis had immediately called all his team back to the Kidderminster squad room, and she had done the same with hers.

  A quick scan of the car park told her Dawson and Bryant had not yet arrived. She would brief them separately but right now she had not a minute to lose.

  Six pairs of eyes aimed straight at her as she entered the room.

  ‘Guys, I need your help,’ she said, honestly. ‘A member of my team has been abducted.’ She hesitated before admitting the truth. ‘And I have no idea why.’

  ‘What was she working on?’ asked Penn, as Travis entered the room.

  Kim tried to ignore the shame she felt as she shrugged and shook her head. She didn’t know and she should. She’d only been away from her team for a few days but she’d lost touch. And somehow she’d lost Stacey.

  Urgent footsteps approaching caused Kim to turn.

  Bryant and Dawson appeared in the doorway. She couldn’t work out who had the least colour. A few seconds of silence fell between them. One of their team was missing and they had to get her back.

  She beckoned them in. ‘My team,’ she said. Or what’s left of it, she almost added.

  She made the bare minimum of introductions as everyone nodded in different directions.

  Bryant held out Stacey’s damaged phone.

  She nodded towards Penn, who held out his hand.

  ‘Can I just get a minute?’ she asked Travis.

  He nodded towards his office.

  Bryant and Dawson followed.

  She closed the door.

  ‘Guys, what the fuck has happened here?’

  She knew the guilt was increasing the volume of her words.

  ‘Everything was fine this morning, guv,’ Bryant said. ‘She was looking into the histories of our hate crime victims while we were at Lloyd House.’

  ‘And you didn’t keep a check on her?’ she asked, knowing she was being unreasonable, and Bryant’s expression reflected it.

  ‘Protect her, don’t protect her…’ he said.

  She opened her mouth to respond when her phone rang.

  ‘Go, share the case details with the guys,’ she said, turning away from the door.

  ‘Sir,’ she said.

  ‘Where the hell are you, Stone?’ Woody asked. ‘I have half the borough CID team at Halesowen waiting to be briefed.’

  ‘I’m running it from Kidderminster, with Travis’s team,’ she said.

  ‘No, Stone, you’re not.’

  ‘Sir, you wanted a joint investigation, well now you’ve really got one. I’ve worked with these people, I trust them. I know what they can do.’

  ‘Stone…’

  ‘Sir, please. Let me have access to Stacey’s login and I can run it from here.’

  She could hear the tension in his voice. ‘Stone, are you disobeying a direct instruction?’

  This was his opportunity to push the shit downhill. By disobeying a direct instruction, she would be held totally accountable for the events from this point forward.

  ‘If you’re issuing one, sir,’ she said, honestly.

  This was it. If he confirmed it, she was on her own. This single moment was about the trust that existed between them.

&nbs
p; ‘Stone, we’ll talk about your insubordination later.’

  ‘Happy to do so, sir,’ she said. Right after she got Stacey back.

  ‘Okay, let me know what you need.’

  ‘I will. And thank you.’

  She sighed heavily and turned back to the door, which had been left open by her colleagues.

  Had they heard her entire conversation?

  She saw the slow, knowing smile on Travis’s face.

  Yes, they’d heard.

  EIGHTY-FOUR

  ‘Are you in, Penn?’ Kim asked.

  Temporary access codes had been emailed to her, and she had typed them into the remote login.

  He nodded.

  ‘Listen, guv,’ Bryant said. ‘We have this name supplied by our racist lead, Gary Flint. It’s Floda. Don’t know who it is or what it means but this guy knows more than he’s letting on.’

  Penn’s head snapped around. ‘Floda?’

  Dawson nodded.

  ‘Adolf backwards,’ Kim said, aloud. She turned to Dawson. ‘And this name came up in connection with your current hate crimes investigation?’

  Penn frowned. ‘I’ve just seen that name on your girl’s phone. Give me a minute.’

  Kim looked from one to the other in confusion. It wasn’t a name that cropped up often. ‘Did you two pass that name to Stacey?’

  Bryant shook his head. ‘We only just got it.’

  She looked at the sea of confusion around her.

  They were all thinking the exact same thing.

  What the fuck was going on?

  EIGHTY-FIVE

  ‘Gibbs, Johnson, condense the Cowley case onto board one. Dawson, note bullet points from your hate crimes case on board two and mark up the last board as Stacey,’ Kim instructed.

  ‘Who is Justin Reynolds?’ Penn asked, suddenly.

  Kim could see he was still looking at Stacey’s broken phone.

  ‘Justin Reynolds?’ she clarified. The name was familiar, but not immediately recognisable.

  ‘Teenager from Sedgley,’ Dawson said, stepping forward. ‘Stacey and I attended the scene the other day and I asked Stacey this morning to do a bit of background searching on him.’

  ‘Why?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Slim chance he might be involved in the incident with Aisha Gupta,’ he said. ‘The girl who was pushed to the—’