No Hiding Place: An edge of your seat mystery/thriller. (DI Sally Parker thrillers Book 2)

by M A Comley

  Sally left Jack to supervise the team as each of them hit their computers for the next few hours while she sifted through her post and attended to the paperwork cluttering her desk. Thankfully, she’d been fortunate to stay on top of it for the past month. Sally rejoined the team midway through the afternoon, her tummy grumbling because she’d bypassed yet another lunch hour. “Right, what do we have?”

  Jack approached the whiteboard as the team shuffled into position with their notebooks to hand. “First up is Colin Whiting. I went through any files we had on him and came up with a sexual assault charge.”

  “Really? That’s interesting.” Sally filled the rest of the team in on what Gemma’s mother had divulged about Mark’s brother. “I got the impression that she felt Colin was intimidating Gemma. If he’s got that kind of rap sheet, then she could be onto something. Do we know any more details about that case, Jack?”

  He wrote the information on the board with the marker pen as he spoke. “It was a few years back. He’d worked shifts alongside the victim for a few months at the bakery.”

  “Ugh… I take it we’re talking about the graveyard shift. All kinds of freaks appear around that time of night,” Sally stated. “What was the outcome?”

  “He lost his job, and the girl refused to drop the charges. He pleaded guilty and got an eighteen-month sentence.”

  “I suppose that’s better than nothing. Hardly a deterrent, though, right?”

  “Yep, my thoughts exactly.”

  “Marital status, Jack?”

  “He’s married a girl since the incident. Not sure if he knew her before or not. I’m assuming he didn’t.”

  “Interesting. We’ll tread carefully there when we question him.”

  “Does he work now?”

  “Yes, he found a job as a baker in a small family-run bakery in Keswick.”

  Sally looked up at the clock on the wall—it was coming up to four o’clock. “Maybe we should shoot over there now, see if we can catch him at home before he starts his shift, if he’s working tonight.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Want me to add the other info I’ve managed to find or leave that until later?”

  “Depends if you’ve found out anything significant, Jack.”

  “Not really. I’m taking an authoritative call and saying the rest of this can wait. Questioning this bastard should be our priority.”

  Sally nodded at her partner’s enthusiasm. “Then I’m happy to go along with that. Joanna and Jordan, why don’t you set off now, too? Let’s all meet back here at six this evening to discuss our findings.”

  Everyone agreed and departed, leaving Stuart to man the phones.

  “Okay, here we are. Let’s go in nice and calmly. Give him the benefit of the doubt from the start and go from there.”

  “I’ll take my cue from you, as always, boss. Two cars in the drive; looks like his wife is at home, too.”

  “Maybe. We’ll soon find out.” Sally locked the car and joined her partner around the passenger side of the car. Together, they walked up the gravel driveway to the semi-detached house, which had a rounded bay window.

  The door was opened by a tall, slim man in his early thirties. “Yes?”

  Sally flashed her warrant card and introduced herself and her partner. “We’d like a quick chat with you, if you don’t mind?”

  “Concerning what, Inspector?” Colin Whiting asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

  “About your sister-in-law, Gemma,” Sally replied, deliberately being evasive, trying to gauge his reaction.

  Colin took a step forward, pulled the door closed behind him, and leaned in to whisper, “I don’t understand. What’s Gemma been saying about me?” He gazed nervously over his shoulder several times.

  Sally had seen enough to know that this man had a few secrets where his sister-in-law was concerned, and she intended to uncover those secrets. She leaned in and whispered back at him, “Let us in, and you’ll find out. Either that, or we can carry out our interview down at the station.”

  He shuffled his feet and closed his eyes. Opening them again, he shrugged. “You better come in. My wife’s at home, though.”

  “That’s okay. We’ll need to question her too.”

  “You’re not making any sense.”

  Sally disarmed the man with a smile. “All will be revealed once we’re inside, Mr. Whiting.”

  He led them through to a spacious, bright living room. A woman was sitting on a leather sofa in the bay window, stroking a puppy. Sally smiled at the woman and flashed her ID again. “I’m Detective Inspector Sally Parker, and this is my partner, DS Jack Blackman, of the Norfolk Constabulary. I take it you’re Mrs. Whiting?”

  “Yes. I’m Leona.” She glanced at her husband waiting by the door. “Colin, what’s this about?”

  “Why don’t we all take a seat, and we’ll fill you in. Cute dog. What is it?”

  “She’s a shih tzu. Only eight weeks old. Sleeps a lot and poos even more.” Leona laughed.

  Sally sat on the other sofa, alongside Jack, and looked up expectantly at Colin, waiting for him to join his wife before she began talking.

  Colin took the hint and sat close to his wife and the dog, which stirred for a mere second then went back to sleep. “I’m glad you’re both at home. Can I ask if any members of your family have contacted you today, Colin?”

  He frowned and nervously glanced sideways at his wife. Leona tapped his leg with the palm of her hand. “Answer the inspector, love.”

  “Sorry, no. No one has rung me. They know better than to do that when I’ve worked a shift the night before. Why?”

  “Okay, then unfortunately, I have some bad news for you.” Sally deliberately paused for a few seconds, waiting for Colin to react in some way, but all she saw was the man wince when Leona’s hand tightened around his thigh. “This morning, Gemma Whiting’s body was found not far from her home.”

  Colin’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open while Leona gasped and covered her own gaping mouth with her hand. “What? Was she involved in an accident?” Colin asked, finally recovering his voice.

  “No. We’re treating her death as suspicious… murder. Due to the injuries she sustained.”

  “Murder?” Colin stood up and walked over to the bay window. Glancing out, he added, “I can’t believe it.”

  “It’s true, I’m afraid. Were you close?”

  He turned to look Sally in the eye and curled his lip. “She was my sister-in-law, for fuck’s sake. Of course we were close.”

  “You might want to control that tongue of yours. There’s no need to swear at the inspector,” Jack warned.

  Colin mumbled an apology then turned back to gaze out the window again. Jack shrugged at Sally, unsure whether to force the man to take a seat and listen or not.

  “Please, take a seat, Mr. Whiting. There are a few questions I’d like to ask you,” Sally ordered.

  Colin glanced sharply over his shoulder. “Me? Why do you want to ask me questions?”

  “It’s what we do during an investigation, Mr. Whiting—question people. Please take a seat. I don’t particularly like talking to a person’s back.”

  He huffed out an impatient breath and reclaimed his seat next to his wife. Sally watched the reaction between the husband and wife for a moment as Mrs. Whiting stroked the back of her husband’s hand, only for him to pull it out of her reach.

  “Perhaps you can tell me if Gemma ever confided in either of you?”

  “Confided? About what?” Leona asked, her fingers twisting the fabric of her trousers on her thigh.

  “Perhaps she intimated that she feared someone. Did she ever say that she felt her life was in danger at all?”

  Colin frowned. “No. Is that what you think? That someone has been stalking her?”

  “We’re merely trying to build a picture, Colin. So far, your brother and Gemma’s mother have given us a few leads to chase up.”

  Colin’s hand touched the right side of his face, t
hen he coughed to clear his throat. “Maybe you could make us all a coffee, darling?” he asked his wife.

  She scowled at him, but when she looked at Sally, her scowl quickly vanished. “Excuse my manners, Inspector. My husband’s right; I should’ve offered you a drink. Tea or coffee?”

  “We’ll both have a coffee. Milk with one sugar, thank you,” Sally replied, looking at Jack for his approval. He nodded his acceptance.

  Leona left the room and closed the living room door behind her. Sally winked at Jack and said to Colin, “Is there a reason you just asked your wife to leave the room, Mr. Whiting?”

  His cheeks reddened, and his shaking hand scratched the side of his face before he buried his head in his hands. Sally and Jack glanced at each other, and she gave him a knowing nod. Sally changed seats and sat on the sofa beside Colin. “What is it, Colin? You can tell us,” she urged softly.

  His head hung low, and he shook it. “I can’t believe she’s dead.”

  “Yes, it’s a tragedy. When was the last time you saw Gemma?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  “At the family barbecue?” Sally enquired.

  His eyes narrowed when he looked her way, and his hands clenched together. “It might have been.”

  “Either it was, or it wasn’t, Colin. Which is it?”

  “Yes,” he mumbled.

  “Right, do you want to tell me what went on that day?”

  “Mark and Gemma invited everyone to their place for a family barbecue. We had the usual burgers and hotdogs and a few chicken wings. I can’t remember what drinks were on offer. I stuck to cans of lager, if that helps.”

  The glint that had appeared in his eye unnerved Sally. He’s toying with me. I’ll let him play for a second or two, if that’s what he wants. Sally smiled. “Sounds like fun. I love a good barbecue myself, especially in the height of summer. Don’t you, Jack?”

  “Can’t beat it, boss. Nothing like a good old family barbecue to while away a Sunday afternoon. Not keen on me doing all the work, though. That’s the only downside to barbecues in my house.”

  “Oh, I thought men were usually in their element, tossing bangers around and setting fire to the burgers. How about you, Colin?”

  He shrugged and replied, “I don’t go in for all that cooking lark myself, with or without a barbecue to hand.”

  Sally inclined her head. “But you’re a baker, aren’t you?”

  “Precisely. I cook for a living. I don’t intend partaking in it during my leisure time, as well.”

  “I see. I suppose I can appreciate your line of thinking there. I always thought men reacted differently when cooking on a barbecue. Maybe you’re the exception…”

  “Is there a point you’re trying to make with all this drivel, Inspector?” he asked, expelling an impatient breath.

  “Well, what I’m leading up to is this: a little birdie told us this morning that at this very barbecue, you were seen having some kind of confrontation with the deceased. Would you care to enlighten us about that?”

  He wrung his hands. “It was a simple misunderstanding; that’s all.”

  “About what?” Sally asked.

  “Something that happened between us.”

  “I’m listening, Colin. We need to know what this is in reference to.”

  “Why? So you can add me to your list of suspects? I’m innocent, I tell you.”

  “Prove it. Tell me what the confrontation was about that day?” Sally probed.

  He fell silent when Leona returned with a tray of drinks. “Is everything okay?” she asked, her eyes firmly set on her husband’s dubious posture when she placed his mug of coffee in front of him on the table.

  “Fine. Everything is just dandy. Are there any biscuits in the house, Leona?”

  His wife tutted, and after placing the tray of drinks on the table, she wafted out of the room again.

  “I’d rather not discuss this in front of her, if you don’t mind.”

  “Why? Do you have something to hide? An extramarital relationship perhaps?”

  “No,” he snapped. “I’d just rather mine and Gemma’s relationship remained private.”

  “Ah, but I’d rather it was out in the open, Colin. If you had a relationship with the victim that we should be aware of, then you need to be honest with us. Of course, if you’d rather we interviewed you down at the station, that’s fine by me.”

  “Jesus, you’re like a bloody Rottweiler with a bone.”

  “That’s true. The sooner you realise that, the better. Now what is it to be?” Sally glanced at the door when she heard Mrs. Whiting’s footsteps in the hallway.

  “I’ll come down the station. If Leona found out about this, she would take a knife to my knackers.”

  “Nice phraseology, Mr. Whiting. Shall we make arrangements for you to pay a visit to the station tomorrow then?”

  “No, it’ll have to be sometime next week.”

  Sally shook her head. “It’s either tomorrow or here and now. I have a murder investigation to conduct, with a murderer out there on the loose. I’d call that an urgent matter, wouldn’t you?”

  Leona entered the room again, holding a plate of biscuits.

  As Sally stood up with the intention of returning to her original seat to make room for Leona, Colin whispered, “Four o’clock, tomorrow.”

  Once seated again, Sally nodded at Colin, accepting the time he’d suggested, and continued asking general questions about the family. “Maybe you can tell us what Gemma and Mark’s relationship was like?”

  Leona picked up her mug and settled it between her hands. “They have their ups and downs, like we all do, I suppose. That’s right, love, isn’t it?” she asked her husband.

  “More downs than ups in their case, I suspect, Leona—unlike us, of course.”

  Sally wondered if he was trying to deliberately cast aspersions in his brother’s direction. “Thanks, we’ll note that down. When you say more downs than ups, are you telling me that in your eyes their marriage was in trouble?”

  Leona gasped. “No. I wouldn’t put it as clear-cut as that, Inspector.”

  “What about you, Colin? I’d love to hear your perceptions of your brother’s marriage. Care to divulge what you feel about it?” Sally asked, smiling.

  “They love each other. Mark would do anything to ensure Gemma was happy. Yes, they had the odd spat, but I never once felt their marriage was problematic. What did Gemma’s mum say about it?”

  “That’s between me and her. I don’t usually pass personal information around like that, sorry. That’s why we insist on questioning as many people as we can in cases such as this. If nothing else, it helps us to form a picture, sometimes a multi-faceted picture, of events leading up to a victim’s demise.”

  “I understand that, Inspector, but surely no one in this family would ever dream of hurting Gemma. She is… I mean she was such a kind person and loved by a lot of people.” Leona took a sip from her mug.

  “That’s often the case, Leona. It seems most of the cases that cross my desk are accredited to people of a nice disposition. I’d say it comes out at a seventy-five to a twenty-five percent ratio.”

  “Really? That does surprise me. Can you tell us how Gemma was killed? Sorry, if you’ve already discussed it while I was out of the room.”

  The woman’s obvious question heightened Sally’s suspicions towards Colin. Why hadn’t he asked the same question in his wife’s absence? Sally’s focus remained on Colin when she answered his wife, “I’d rather not go into specific details right now, as the cause of death is yet to be determined by the pathologist, who is performing the post-mortem today.”

  “I see. Does she have to have one of those?” Leona shuddered, almost spilling the contents of her mug in the process.

  “It’s procedure. A post-mortem is a vital part of the puzzle in building a case against an assailant. You’d be surprised the clues we can pick up from examining a corpse. Most pathologists call the victims ‘silent witn
esses’ for that very reason. We should know more by tomorrow—that’s when our investigation will truly begin. For now, we’ll go about making general enquiries, asking friends and relatives of the deceased if they know of any recent arguments or falling-outs the victim might have had with anyone.”

  Leona looked thoughtful for a moment or two. “I see. I can’t really tell you if Gemma had fallen out with anyone lately. I wasn’t that close to her, not like Colin. I suppose working odd shifts gave Colin the chance to pop over there for a chat, more than I managed anyway.”

  Colin stared at his wife aghast. “Hardly, love.”

  “Oh, come on. Lately I know you’ve been working a lot of overtime, but you used to pop over there quite often. He loves playing with Samantha, you see. We haven’t been blessed with children of our own.” She held her mug with one hand and reached out her other hand to touch her husband’s. “We’re going through fertility treatment now.”

  Colin’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “Yes, love. That’s in its infancy, Inspector. We have a long way to go before they enrol us on the scheme. Plus, there’s the matter of trying to find the money to fund all the treatment, of course. Five grand is a lot of dosh for an ordinary couple like us to stumble across.”

  “I understand. Have you been trying for a baby long?”

  Leona’s eyes moistened. “About three years now. They’re not sure what the problem is, but Colin working different shifts to me could be the cause of it. At least that’s what the doctor seems to be suggesting.”

  Colin patted his wife’s knee. “All right, love. Stop talking about it. You know how upset you get when you think about the subject.”

  Leona sniffled. “You’re right. I’m sure we’ll get our own little one soon enough.”

  Sally studied Colin. The caring way he patted his wife’s knee was a vast comparison to the way he’d been moments earlier when he was alone with her and Jack. The man was a real Jekyll-and-Hyde character if ever she saw one.

  “I hope that works out for you both soon, Leona. Okay, I think we have enough to be going on with for now. Mr. Whiting, would you mind showing us out?”