‘Does she know where? Who held her? Come on, Ali, we must have more to go on than that?’
‘We will have. I’m sending a sketch artist down so we can try and get a composite. I’m gunna sort a specialist victim interviewer to go and conduct a video interview, and they’ll note whatever other info we can get from her. I’ll crack on with the first disclosure statement today.’ Cross-contamination issues meant Ali couldn’t be as hands on as he’d like to have been, but he knew he’d still have a hand in the investigation itself.
‘Are you sure she wasn’t raped? This kind of scenario, well, it doesn’t normally end well for the victim. And definitely not something I’d expect with no sexual element?’
‘I’ve asked that psych give her an evaluation, but she’s insistent she wasn’t raped. Beaten around and tortured, hurt that way – half starved and kept in a small dark room for the most part, but not raped.’
‘How’d she get out?’
‘The power stopped working, and she realised the CCTV had turned off. She said she felt her way down a dark corridor and found some doors that had an emergency push bar on them – like in a school, she said. She pushed, and that was that. She was outside.’
‘She was either bloody lucky, or this is some kind of elaborate lie. Though, for what purpose, I have no idea. Why would she only want to talk to Donaghue? I mean, he’s okay but pretty much tied to his desk at the station. I’ve never known him go above and beyond for anyone as long as I’ve been here.’
‘He’s been dealing with Interpol on her behalf. Ex nicked off with her kid back to Egypt – Interpol have been trying to trace the kid ever since. I’m ringing them in a sec – apparently, they were on the verge of finding the kid. I want to be able to give her an update on that, at least.’
‘Get Donaghue on the phone and confirm with him first. I don’t care if he has to take the phone to the bog with him – see whether he thinks she’s compos mentis. Then, get Jenny Young over to the hospital to do a video interview. She is the specialist interviewer on call today, I think. I want to know everything – get your first disclosure statement done, and then come and interrupt my meeting with the chief super this afternoon. I have to attend the bloody thing, but there’s nothing saying I can’t be pulled out of it just as easily.’
‘Okay. And Alex?’
Alex turned back and stared at Ali, waiting for an answer.
‘Thanks. For making me go to the hospital. Take a couple of deep breaths and wash your face before your meeting. You’ve got ketchup on your chin, bro.’
Alex swiped at his chin with a grudging smile. ‘Bacon sarnie on my way in to work. Wasn’t eating breakfast with the kids, that’s for sure. Bet I look like a right plonk. Can’t believe no one told me!’
He walked off rubbing his chin, and Ali sat down to get started.
* * *
18th December, 1245 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital
Sally leaned back into the pillows on the hospital bed. She was exhausted. It had taken a lot to tell the cop about what had happened to her. She knew he was sending other people back to see her. But right now, all she wanted to do was sleep.
She closed her eyes and was just relaxing enough to drop off when there was a knock at the hospital room door.
A man walked in with the NHS lanyard round his neck. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place his face.
‘Need to take you to x-ray.’
His voice was gruff, and he didn’t make eye contact.
Dread settled in her stomach. She knew his face. Who was he?
‘I’ve already been x-rayed – have you got the right room?’
‘Sarah, right? Yeah, I’ve got the right room. It’s a secondary x-ray – the last one didn’t show the details properly for the consultant. Don’t shoot the messenger. You don’t wanna go, then don’t go. You can tell your doc yourself.’
Now, Sally was worried. She didn’t want to contradict the man, but she also didn’t want a confrontation with the doctor.
‘Well, if it’s needed, I guess it’s okay.’
He fumbled behind her, unhooking the IV fluids from the stand and holding them in his hand as he pushed the bed to the door. The bed hit the door frame with a clunk, and he swore softly under his breath.
The memory of who he was hit Sally like a ton of bricks, and she froze in the bed, not daring to move or speak.
It’s him! He’s found me.
Her breathing quickened as panic started clawing its way through her mind. He’s going to take me back. Do something!!
‘Sorry, before we go, I… erm… I need the bathroom. Desperately. Please?’
The bed was half way out of the doorway to her room at this point. She knew she could scream to high heaven, if he kept going. But her throat felt clogged and thick. The feeling of panic was overwhelming.
She could practically cut the tension emanating from the man behind her – could virtually see his face contorting as he thought about what to do.
Finally, he sighed, pulling her back inside the room.
‘I’ll get the nurse,’ he said gruffly and turned to leave.
At the last second, though, he turned back and faced her, his eyes glinting with the evil that lurked beneath.
He took the two steps to her bedside so quick, she barely registered it until his eyes were right before hers.
He leaned in until he was an inch from her face.
Sally was frozen in shock. He’s going to kill me – right here. Fuck, fuck, fuck. What do I do?
Her mouth dropped open, and he took it as an intent to scream.
His hand snaked upwards, and he put it over her mouth, sealing it shut by pressing hard.
‘Say one word, mention I’ve even been here, and I’ll come back while you’re sleeping and cut out your tongue. Then, I’ll take you back to the school, and we’ll finish what we were doing. You’re one of my Angels. Never forget that. The police don’t know who I am – and even if they did, they can’t help you. I’ve got friends in very high places. You tell, and I’ll know. And trust me, I’ll not only kill you, but I’ll make sure to kill every one of the people you know, too. How’d you think I found you in the park that day? I’ve been following you for ages. It wasn’t just a coincidence.’
His breath was hot on her cheek as he spoke, his tone low and terrifying. Sally nodded once, her breath still held in her lungs. He meant every word. She could see that from his cold expression.
‘Not a word, Angel. Not one word.’
His voice drifted back towards her as he strode out of the room with his head held high. And her breath whooshed out of her lungs as he disappeared around the corner.
Tears filled her eyes – she couldn’t go back there. If she didn’t tell, maybe he’d leave her alone.
* * *
18th December, 1250 hours – Sunderland Royal Hospital
Barry stopped outside the lifts and leaned against the wall. Going in her room had been both exhilarating and scary – if he’d been caught, that would have been it. Game over.
He couldn’t believe she’d recognised him, though. She’d only seen him twice – once when he’d grabbed her in the park, and once when he’d gone into the furnace room. Both times were times of stress for her – in her position he didn’t know if he’d have remembered.
He took the lanyard off his neck – it had been chance, happening on it in the restaurant on the lower level – if anyone had looked closely, they’d have known he wasn’t Dr Mohammed Iqbal, but he’d counted on no-one challenging him. Which they hadn’t. Deciding he might need it for another day, he put it into the pocket of his trousers and smiled to himself.
He would be coming back. He was confident she wouldn’t tell – she’d worry over how long he’d been following her, when, in fact, it had been genuine coincidence seeing her in the park. He’d never followed her. Didn’t know who her friends were. But she didn’t need to know that.
One thing he’d learned in the time he�
�d been taking Angels to the school was that he was in control. They’d do and believe what he told them to. Out of desperation to be set free or just to live. Once they got past the initial stages of believing they could get out, they understood he was in control.
Sally was no different.
She hadn’t been able to hide the pure panic in her eyes when he’d stared at her. Those perfect blue eyes that were just another indicator that she was his perfect Angel. He’d had a thing for blue eyes for as long as he could remember.
And, no matter what, he’d make sure that those eyes would be staring at him for the eternity to come.
Right now, though, he was tired. It had been a long night moving the two bodies from the stables – his ribs were throbbing every time he drew breath. He needed some sleep. He’d head home and then come back later. She was going with him to the school. And he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
22
18th December, 1405 hours – Sunderland City Police Station
‘Boss, I’ve just had a call from comms – a bin man has reported finding a dead body in one of the wheelie bins he’s been emptying. Charlie’s already out dealing with a rape, Dave’s dealing with that stabbing from last night, I’ve got the PM this afternoon for the wifey that was battered at the weekend. Can you deal with this, or shall I pass it to Newcastle?’ Gary’s voice was apologetic as he interrupted Ali from his statement.
‘Is the DCI aware? He’s in a meeting this arvo.’
‘Yeah – there was a bit of shouting going on in the office, like. I don’t think he’ll be coming out of that meeting in the next couple of minutes. I know you’re dealing with the woman who was kidnapped, but you’re not lead investigator. I just thought if you had time, maybe you could do it. But if it’s an issue, I’ll hand over the Newcastle team. Let them get off their arses for once.’
‘Nah, it’s okay, I’ll deal. What’s the log number? I’ll ring over to comms and see which crime scene manager is dealing.’
‘It’s Kev Lang, I think – that’s who comms mentioned. But the log is 783 of today.’
‘Okay – just what we need. Does it look suspicious, are we thinking?’
‘Body’s mangled enough to make the bin man chuck his lunch up, so I’m guessing so. He described it as “the head hanging off the body.” Doesn’t think it was done in the bin wagon. They thought he was alive at first and pulled him out onto the roadside. He’s started to decompose, apparently. The fella said he could smell the decomp even over the smell of the bins.’
‘Fucking great. I’ll ring Kev now and let him know I’m heading down. Get to your PM. The dead wait for no man, you know.’
Gary grinned, rubbed his hand through his blond hair and walked back down the office.
Ali decided he’d rather speak to Kev before he headed out so made his way down to the CSI office.
Kev’s door was open, and Ali strode inside to find Kev packing up camera equipment.
‘You dealing with the wheelie bin guy?’
‘Aye – they had one like this in Newcastle last week, but the lad had crawled inside to sleep off one too many. Definitely not described as having his head hanging off. I’ve got Deena and Ben downstairs packing the van.’
Momentarily confused, Ali realised that Kev was supposed to be working in Darlington. ‘What you doing here, anyway? I thought you were working out of dirty Darlo at the minute?’
‘I am, but Jason’s on the sick, and Cass is still on maternity. They’ve seconded Kayleigh to crime scene manager down there until they sort the staffing out. We need more staff – we’re operating on below minimum and have been for bloody ages. If only the brass would listen to us plebs out on the street, huh?’
‘Aye, you’d think it was a simple solution. It’s not rocket science to realise we’ve lost loads of staff with the job cuts and are now under minimum. How many CSIs have you got on duty today? Four?’
‘Four, including me – there should be six. The volume crime team have been dealing with all the minor shit for months now. But even with them helping, it’s still too much for the few CSIs we have. Especially with so many either on maternity or sick at the minute.’
‘Know what you mean. I’d like to say CID is better, but you know what this place is like.’
Kev nodded at him. ‘Haway, then, fella. The sooner we head out there, the sooner we can get back. I sense another late one coming.’
‘You and me both,’ replied Ali ruefully. ‘I’ll grab some keys and the major incident book and see you down there.’
* * *
18th December, 1410 hours – Rainbow Riding Stables
Matthew knew he was being quiet. He knew TJ wouldn’t push him to talk, despite him being desperate to do so. She’d made him ham sandwiches for his lunch, had rung his aunt Carolyn and explained that he seemed off and was missing school but was at the stables with her. His aunt had said she’d pick him up at tea time when she finished work.
He knew he was going to be in all kinds of bother – she’d never not been nice to him, but she was starting to despair. And this wasn’t the first time he’d skipped school.
TJ was just in the process of getting her coat and boots on so they could go and bring some horses in from the paddock. The weather report had said a cold front was moving in tonight – temperatures were going to drop to minus seven. It was too cold for the horses to be outside, really, even with their rugs on.
The phone rang, cutting through his thoughts, and TJ hopped to the counter with one boot on and grabbed the phone.
Matthew listened half-heartedly – only because he was there and not because he wanted to pry.
‘Rainbow Riding Stables, Teresa speaking.’
‘Oh, hi, Mr Alderman, I’m happy…’
There was a pause, and Matthew heard a raised voice on the other end of the line – the only word he could make out, though, was suspension.
Is that about me? Am I being suspended from school? Why would they ring TJ about it?
TJ continued the conversation. ‘Now, wait just a minute, I sent you no such cancellation notice. I want the new arena. Why would I send you a letter cancelling the planning permission?… Yes, I understand you say it has my signature on it, but I didn’t write any such letter… well, just reinstate it? Like I say, I want the arena. Whatever letter you have there, it is not from me – I don’t want to cancel the planning permission… I know I didn’t make the last meeting, I rang you and explained… You can’t do this! Just reinstate the original application… what do you mean you can’t? Are you in receipt of the original letter from me requesting the planning permission and your response to it?… Well, why the hell can’t you take that one as fact and ignore the one that I DIDN’T SEND?’
TJ’s voice raised as the person on the end of the phone spoke loudly back.
‘… The new year? Are you kidding me? You want me to resend the whole application and submit it for review prior to acceptance?… You already accepted it!’
‘No, I don’t accept… Hello? Hello?’
‘Shit!’ she swore, slamming the phone back into its holder. ‘Who do the council think they are?’ She remembered Matthew was present belatedly and shot him a tight smile. ‘Sorry, Matthew, you don’t need to worry about this. I’m sorry for swearing in front of you.’
‘It’s fine – nothing I haven’t heard before.’ Matthew smiled at her for the first time that day. ‘You ready to go get the horses in now, or do you need to ring someone else – the council are dicks, by the way.’
‘How can you possibly know that? You’re only thirteen.’
‘My aunt had loads of bother with them when I first moved in with her. She always says they’re dicks. And when dad was alive, well, they refused to let us adapt the house so mum could come home. That’s why she’s still in the home. Well, that and my dad…’
Easy pain filled his eyes – he hadn’t talked about his dad to TJ before – or his mum, really, for that matter. ‘I’m sorry for what he did to
you. I didn’t know he would do that when he found out I wanted to stay with my aunt. If I had just gone home, maybe he would have left you alone. And my mum. I fucked everything up.’ He wiped at his eyes roughly, turning his face away from TJ.
He was surprised when her hand touched his chin and gently pulled him back round to face her.
‘You are not to blame for what your father did, Matthew. You were a kid – he was completely responsible for his own actions. He knew it was wrong to attack me, he knew it was wrong to hurt your mum. And you – just ’cos he never hit you, doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt. I don’t know your mum, so I can’t speak for her, but I’m pretty sure she’d be telling you the exact same thing. None of this is your fault, Matthew. Absolutely none of it.’
His tears spilled over onto his cheeks – he didn’t realise until just now how much he needed to hear from someone, other than his aunt, that he wasn’t to blame. He’d carried the weight of it on his shoulders since the day he’d told Carolyn he wanted to stay with her. And just now was the first time he’d felt any of that weight lift.
TJ pulled him into a tight hug, and he let himself cry for a minute, then wiped his eyes and pulled back. Before he could talk himself out of it, he blurted, ‘It was me – who rang the police and told them about the body behind the stable. I wanted to see Lightning, but I fell asleep in the tack room. When I woke up, it was late, and Barry came into the tack room. I followed him outside – he didn’t know I was there. I even stood in his footprints. I just knew there was something weird going on. He went to the back of the stables and started moving the snow and loose soil. I saw… a hand…’ Matthew drew in a shaky breath and continued. ‘I was scared – I thought he’d turn round and see me – so I ran. I should’ve woken you and told you then – I’m really sorry. I should have told you.’
Matthew burst into tears and then wiped his face again, totally embarrassed that he was crying in front of her. Not just crying, either – heart-wrenching, snot-filled sobs. He didn’t realise right then that it was because he was so scared. It was a huge deal him being at the stables – the thought that Barry might have known he was there had been playing on his mind.
Under The Woods: a heart-stopping police thriller (The Forensic Files Book 4) Page 22
