No Safe Home: the gripping new crime thriller everybody is talking about

by Tara Lyons

  “Yes?”

  “Mrs Sarah Steer?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Detective Sergeant Kerry Fraser from the Metropolitan Police. Is Caitlynn Steer your daughter?”

  “Yes. Is this about Paige?”

  Fraser nodded. “Could I speak to Caitlynn, ma’am?”

  “Of course, I’m sorry. Come on in. Can I get you a drink?”

  “No thank you, I –”

  “Caitlynn! Caitlynn, love, get downstairs right this instant,” Mrs Steer called from the hallway. “Follow me into the kitchen, Detective. I’ll put the kettle on.”

  Fraser walked behind the woman, glancing at the walls adorned with photographs of family and friends. She entered the large kitchen. The patio doors opened onto a well-kept garden.

  “Large family?” she said, thumbing back towards the photos in the hallway.

  “Isn’t everyone’s?”

  Mrs Steer smiled, and busied herself collecting the mugs and spoons and boiled the kettle. Fraser didn’t want to sound rude by turning down her hospitality again, so allowed the woman to continue.

  “How has Caitlynn been since Paige’s death?”

  “How do you think, Detective? They were the very best of friends, you know.” Fraser nodded, but sensed the woman hadn’t finished. “She’s been in an awful state, barely said a word and hasn’t eaten a morsel, I’m telling you. I just don’t know what to do… how can I help her? The poor Everett family, they’re lovely people… and I haven’t had the heart to pay them a visit. That’s disgusting behaviour, isn’t it? Oh, Caitlynn, darling. Here she is, Detective.”

  Fraser turned to find a young girl hunched over and looking aimlessly around the room. From her notes, she knew Caitlynn had turned sixteen already but the girl’s elfin physique coupled with a swollen, tear-stained face made her look more thirteen, if that.

  “Hello, Caitlynn. My name is Kerry, I work for the Police. Could I have a chat with you about Paige?”

  “You’ve… you’ve seen it… haven’t you?” the girl whispered.

  Fraser crouched down low to the floor and gazed up to Caitlynn. “Seen what?”

  “I didn’t think she’d really go through with it. Honestly, I didn’t! If I had known… I would have…” A stream of tears erupted from Caitlynn’s eyes.

  “What are you talking about, darling?” Mrs Steer uttered.

  “Caitlynn, come and take a seat for me,” Fraser instructed, and led the girl to the table. “Now, can you explain what it is you’re talking about?”

  “I can’t… I’ll get in trouble.”

  “Caitlynn Steer, you tell the detective this minute what’s going on.”

  “Please, Mrs Steer your tone of voice isn’t helping. I don’t want Caitlynn to feel like she’s in trouble and… actually, I’d really love that cup of tea now.”

  The woman pinched her lips together, but said no more. Making more noise than necessary, it was obvious to Fraser that Mrs Steer was still listening to their conversation.

  “Now, Caitlynn, I want you to know I’m here to help you. And I’m here for Paige too. It’s important you tell me what you know.”

  “He dared her.” The girl hesitated for a few moments. “He said if she took the drugs he’d go on a date with her. He was lying, of course he was, just leading her on so him and his friends had another excuse to take the piss out of us,” Caitlynn blurted.

  Fraser took a deep breath and thought back to the crime scene; Mr and Mrs Everett were right to proclaim Paige’s death was not a suicide.

  “Can you tell me who he is? We’ll protect you, and you will not get into trouble, Caitlynn. But we need to know who was involved, for your best friend’s sake.”

  The girl lifted her head and looked Fraser in the eye for the first time. She wondered if it had been a low blow, if the young girl actually had some fire inside and would tell Fraser where she could stick her protection.

  “Billy. Billy Roscoe. He’s a few years older than us, in the sixth form college attached to our school. We thought we’d get a break from them all during the holidays, but they followed us. When we were shopping at Brent Cross, they’d be there. Or if we went to the cinema at the outlet, they’d be there too. They always knew where we were.”

  Caitlynn cupped her hands over her face, her shoulders shaking with silent tears. Fraser felt the pain of losing a friend to drugs; the only difference was this had been a tragic accident.

  “You thought I had seen something, Caitlynn. What were you referring to?”

  The girl used the sleeve of her jumper to wipe the mingled tears and snot away. “The video… on Facebook. Billy’s one condition to taking Paige out was that she had to take the drugs live. He said he wanted to watch her.”

  “Did Billy give Paige the drugs?”

  Caitlynn nodded. “She called me earlier that day saying he had been round her house and gave her a bag of some white powder. He said all she had to do was sniff it live on Facebook and he’d take her to the cinema the next night. Paige is… was… my best friend. She just wanted to have her first date… she just wanted Billy to like her.”

  The girl lowered her head to the table and wailed. Mrs Steer dashed to her daughter’s side, bundling her in her arms and cried with her.

  “Caitlynn, had Paige ever taken drugs before?” The girl shook her head and continued to sob. “Thank you for speaking with me. You’ve really helped Paige’s case. Mrs Steer, we will need Caitlynn to make an official statement. But, for now, thank you, I’ll see myself out.”

  Fraser left the house and sat quietly in the car for a few moments, suppressing the overwhelming sadness inside.

  Before returning to the station, she made a detour to the mortuary. Since joining the team, there’d been no need for her to visit the pathologist in charge of the investigations. That was something Hamilton always dealt with, sometimes sending Morris and Wedlock, which she was thankful for – unsure if she had the stomach for that element of the job yet. Hoping to pick up the results from Audrey Gibson, and not to witness the live examination of a young corpse, it was clear whatever the outcome she was on her own with this case. She took a deep breath and headed off in search of the woman’s office.

  “Hello, Miss Gibson? I’m DS Fraser.”

  “Please, call me Audrey, and don’t stand on ceremony in the doorway. Come in and have a seat. Do you have a first name, or is it politically correct to call everyone by their surname?”

  “It’s common practice I suppose, surname or nickname,” Fraser explained. “But, it’s Kerry.”

  “I’m new to this team… is it easy to tell?” The woman smiled.

  “Well, that makes two of us. Although I won’t be for much longer…” Fraser stopped, preventing herself from rambling any further. “I was hoping to get some information on an investigation I’m leading. I’m sorry to come unannounced. Should I have called first?”

  “Yes, I think it’s quite formal here. But I prefer to work in a relaxed atmosphere, so feel free to call or pop in whenever you like. Which case are you referring to?”

  “Paige Everett, the young teenager. Suspected overdose.”

  Audrey rifled through a stack of different coloured folders on her desk, swaying to a tune she hummed aloud, her scarlet hair swishing around her shoulders as she moved.

  “Ah ha, here it is! Paige Everett, sudden cardiac death,” Audrey announced. “The toxicology report showed presence of cocaine in the victim’s system.”

  “Her friend said it was the first time Paige had taken drugs.”

  “Sadly, that doesn’t always matter, Kerry. There’s no way of knowing the purity of cocaine because it’s commonly mixed with other compounds, such as aspirin and other over-the-counter medications. Plus, your victim suffered from asthma.”

  Fraser frowned. “What influence would that have had?”

  “Cocaine reduces the flow of oxygen to the heart, forcing the muscle to work harder and causing the user’s breathing to weaken. T
his would have put immense pressure on the long-term condition already affecting Paige’s airways. Some asthma sufferers have a sensitivity to anti-inflammatory drugs, such as aspirin –”

  “Which could have been mixed with the cocaine,” Fraser finished the sentence.

  “Exactly.”

  “And that escalated to a sudden cardiac? Sorry, I feel quite ignorant asking that. I guess I’ve just always assumed it was more of an addiction thing and it’s the regular use of these drugs that would have caused a fatal overdose.”

  “In most cases that would be true, but Paige Everett was very unlucky. A sudden cardiac death is caused by abnormal heart rhythms called arrhythmias. It may be more detail than you need, but it basically means it’s when a person’s normal rhythm becomes irregular. Paige’s heart rate became so slow it didn’t pump enough blood to meet her body’s needs. Again, certain anti-inflammatory drugs can trigger this.”

  “Would Paige have known she had a sensitivity to aspirin?”

  “Yes, I would have imagined so. What she probably wouldn’t have known was if the cocaine contained it. But, Kerry, you have to understand all of this is indeterminate and the victim’s samples have been sent for more sophisticated tests.”

  Fraser sighed heavily, once again controlling the melancholy she felt for the young girl. “How wretched.”

  “I’ll admit, I’m usually a guarded person when it comes to death, it’s the nature of my job, but this has troubled me. It’s the awful irony of it all. Some people will abuse drugs for years and this inexperienced teenager died after her first time. I hope you catch the scum who sold it to her.”

  “Yes… I will, Audrey. Thanks for helping me understand the science of it.”

  The woman smiled. “That’s my job. Maybe you’d like to attend a live post-mortem one day? You’ll get a feel for how the procedure and process works, and understand why it can take so long for us to get back to you. It’s really not because we’re holding out on the info.”

  Fraser froze, glaring at Audrey. She wanted to explain it wasn’t part of the job she was ready to undertake, that it was one thing to see a dead body at a crime scene for a short period of time, but she’d heard some post-mortems could take hours. Just the thought of what the room might smell like, and hands rummaging around to extract internal organs, already made her shudder.

  Audrey chuckled. “Okay, Kerry I won’t push you. But if you’re ever ready, the offer is there. Perhaps we could go for a drink some time though? A few of the friendships are quite tight around here, and I haven’t found a place I can slot into yet.”

  “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replied; a drink was something Fraser could handle.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Katy and Frankie returned home from another afternoon in the park, and Katy was looking forward to chilling out for a few hours before her night shift at the pub. As the key slipped in the front door, she heard Alexina’s voice call down to her. There wasn’t enough time to race inside and lock the door; she could hear the woman’s footsteps descending the stairs.

  “Hey, neighbour! Why didn’t you answer me earlier?”

  She turned to face her without removing the key from the top lock. “When?”

  “I knocked a few hours ago.”

  “We’ve been out since lunchtime.”

  Alexina turned her attention to Frankie. “Hello, cutie. Aren’t you just adorable! Anyway, it was about two o’clock, and I’d come down to tell you the husband has left on his travels again. Could be gone at least a month this time. Your flat was quiet, but I could have sworn I heard you walking about.”

  “No, we were definitely in the park all afternoon.”

  “My imagination’s playing tricks on me again, I suppose.” Alexina laughed, and peered back up the stairs. “Look, why don’t you come up to mine for dinner and a sleepover tonight?”

  “I’m working tonight, but thank you.”

  “Ah, well come up for your dinner anyway before you go then. I make a mean spaghetti bolognaise. Frankie can meet the girls too… wouldn’t he love some playmates?”

  Katy gripped the key tighter in her hand, a voice inside telling her to thank the woman, decline and return to the safety of their home. Chatting on the stairwell was not a highly-ranked pastime in her book. She looked down at her son, who didn’t beg, or throw a tantrum to get what he wanted, but his blue eyes widened with excitement. He silently pleaded, and her heart melted.

  “It’s a really kind offer, Alexina. We’d love to.”

  “Awesome, come on up,” the women said, bouncing back up the stairs two at a time. “The girls are playing in their room, Frankie.”

  “Oh my gosh! Thank you, Mum. I’m so excited,” he yelled, and followed Alexina.

  Katy retrieved her keys and slipped them back into the pocket of her jeans, resigned to the fact her son’s need for friends exceeded her own desire to be alone.

  “You scarpered off pretty fast the other night.” Katy joined Alexina in the kitchen, once she’d seen Frankie settled with Lily and Nancy in their princess-pink bedroom.

  “Well, you know how it is… when one of my girls wakes in the night, I could be in with them for hours singing lullabies and hugging them back to sleep. Thought I’d duck out and leave you to it. Hmm… try this.”

  Alexina lifted a spoon filled with bolognaise to Katy’s lips. Not one to don an apron, she’d forgotten how comforting a tasty dish could be, and decided she and Frankie deserved to have a nice meal and some company for a change. It couldn’t do any harm.

  The hours passed, and Katy found herself disappointed with work looming on the horizon. She had enjoyed herself more than expected; Alexina loved to share her adventure stories and Katy enjoyed hearing them. Frankie had hardly made an appearance; the new trio of friends remained busy with their imaginative games of teachers and doctors and patients.

  “Feel free to pop up whenever you like, Katy. I’m pretty much always at home.” Alexina laughed.

  “Please can I sleepover, Mum?” Frankie peeked from around the bedroom door. “We’re not finished with our game.”

  “But Samantha will be over soon to babysit.”

  “Mum, please? Please! P-p-p-lease?”

  Lily and Nancy’s heads appeared under his at the door and she couldn’t help but laugh at the bobbing children, all smiling eagerly. Katy had taken her son away from so much since moving from London, and his lack of friendships was through no fault of his own. Katy sighed with guilt. Shrugging, she looked at Alexina to help make the decision.

  “Hey, it’s fine with me. He’s a good boy, I know he won’t be any trouble.”

  Once again that evening, Katy broke. “Okay you can stay. I’ll pop downstairs, call the babysitter and grab Frankie’s pyjamas before I head to work.”

  The cheers of jubilation echoed even after Alexina had closed the door behind her. Though the nerves bubbled in her stomach like an erupting volcano, she knew that if they were truly going to make a new life for themselves here, then she had to relax and allow Frankie these opportunities.

  After calling Samantha to offer the babysitter her fee, which the young girl graciously refused, Katy became frustrated at having misplaced her favourite lip gloss. Not wanting to be late, she gave up the search and nipped back upstairs. Mobile numbers were swapped between the two women and Frankie was caught in a suffocating hug. Only then was Katy finally ready to walk to work.

  “Penny for them… you look preoccupied,” John said from the other side of the bar.

  Katy was momentarily caught off-guard by his uncharacteristic attention and continued to pull the pint of bitter. She almost admitted how uneasy she’d felt about Frankie staying with a stranger, and how the only thing keeping her from falling apart was knowing he was not far from her, but she needed to restrain herself; this was work, not a counselling session.

  “Aren’t we all, John?” she replied, and laughed.

  “Aye, you’re not wrong there, lass.” He paid for his pint an
d returned to his newspaper.

  Four patrons filled the entire bar, and Katy’s comfortable status quo returned. Content that everyone’s glasses were filled, the tables were cleaned and the outside ashtrays emptied, she perched herself at the end of the bar with her Kindle. Having endured enough loss and fear, she avoided all types of crime thrillers and clicked the button to her favourite Marissa Farrar book, losing herself in a world of spirit shifters.

  “Hey, Katy!” her boss called out, as he entered the bar from his office. “I’ve just ordered your taxi but Pete wasn’t on shift. They said they’ll try and get you a female driver instead.”

  “Thanks, Craig.”

  “Go on, you head off and wait outside. I’ll clear this lot up.”

  Katy bid her boss farewell and went out the back to collect her jacket and bag from the stockroom. She was delighted to read a text from Alexina, discovering Frankie and the girls had worn themselves out and were in bed by ten p.m. She fired off a thank-you reply text, promising to see them all for breakfast. It was a later time than she usually let her son stay awake, but for the first time in a long time, happiness triumphed over anxiety.

  She stood at the side staff entrance and waited for the taxi. Nothing came. Katy knew better than to call for a progress report on the driver’s journey; growing up in London taught her that the taxi controller’s answer would always be ‘just five more minutes,’ regardless of where the car actually was. It was now half-past midnight, and she took comfort in the fact Samantha wasn’t at her house waiting to leave. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, Katy marched off in the direction of home. Everything happens for a reason.

  In what now felt like a former life, top hair stylist Katy loved the craziness of London. You couldn’t walk two minutes without seeing another face; they could be any race or religion, dressed in a formal suit or making a statement with colourful fashion. You never knew what you’d find in the city and you were never alone. It was something Katy had loved about London, and the hair salon offered more gossip and laughs than a soap opera ever could have. But, when she became the brunt of the rumours and jokes, she had to escape; she couldn’t face those strangers any more.