The DI Hannah Robbins Series: Books 1 - 3 (Boxset) (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series)

by Rebecca Bradley

“The doctor said I was fine. We got thrown about, but the baby is fine. You heard him say so yourself. He’s fine.”

  “He?” The pacing faltered.

  “Well I hate the word, it, and we’re not far enough along to know. He just feels like a he.”

  She smiled. Tom looked at her. From her eyes to her still flat belly where her hand rested. He sat beside her, took her hand from where it rested and replaced it with his. Hope swelled inside her. She needed him to understand.

  “Sally, I don’t want you to go to work, full stop, never mind full duties, with no one knowing you need to be protected. Why can’t you see that?”

  She stood quickly; his hand dropped away. “I would never do anything to hurt our baby. Trust me. The investigation is based in the bloody building, for God’s sake.” She couldn’t help but raise her voice. “What do you think is going to happen in there? You’re being ridiculous!” Anger and frustration pushed forward words she knew they would both regret tomorrow. She gulped hard and continued. “I’m going back to work, Tom. You’re not my keeper; I don’t need your permission. It’s my body and I’m the one carrying the baby. It’s safe. I’m not stupid. Just give it a rest.”

  Tom rose just as rapidly. “All you care about is that fucking job. You’re a reckless idiot. What about us? Your family? Me and the baby?”

  “It’s not about me. I love you. I love our baby. I want to be in at the end of this job and then that’s it. Grounded to the nick, making people tea and shuffling sodding paperwork around.”

  “Do as you please, but do not come to me if something goes wrong,” Tom hissed before he walked out the door. She was wound up and frustrated. She wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight and she was going back to work in the morning.

  58

  Colin Benn was charged with the rape and murder of Rosie Green and Allison Kirk, and the attempted murder of Natalie Kirk by arson at eleven-twelve p.m. It had taken no time at all to get a CPS lawyer to sign off on the charges. There was still a considerable amount of work to do but with Benn charged, we could keep him off the streets while we continued to gather and process the evidence from crime scenes. He had nothing to say when charged. His solicitor was long gone as there was nothing further she could do at this point. He would need his legal representation again in the morning when he would be put before a court with a remand application, but for tonight, we were done. He looked at the floor, his shoulders sagging. The weight may have lifted from him in the telling, but now he had to face a future very different to the one he had imagined for himself. His future now held court rooms, uniformed guards, handcuffs and isolation from prison inmates due to his crimes.

  I drove home barely taking in the red lights or junctions I came across. I was glad the day was over. The sense of joy and pride usually associated with charging an offender was marred by the real loss of two young girls whom I had never met.

  I’d put a call into Martin, who was in the pub getting a round of drinks in when his phone rang. We talked for a while, the light-hearted banter of a local public house in the background, until it became too distracting and Martin stepped outside. He said he would visit the Green family with Chris in the morning and update them. A family already torn apart by the death of a child, now to be told of the circumstances of her death. It couldn’t be avoided. It would all come out in court. They had to be told.

  I thought of Natalie. Of how I couldn’t inform her of events. The hospital had said there was no change when I called. She would never win a mother of the year award. She gave the impression all she cared about was the money, but I’d seen a hint of something more. A deep rooted remorse for the knowledge she’d let her child down. She may have even known, on some level, what was happening with Benn and her way of dealing with it was to hide even deeper within the bottle.

  I heard screeching and car horns as I failed to notice another red light in time. I could do with a drink myself.

  The wine slid down easily. I poured myself another, carried it into the bathroom and turned the shower on. I discarded my clothes, downed the contents of the glass and stepped in, turning the heat up as far as I could bear it. Then a little bit further.

  Benn had failed to tell us who the others were in the group. He clammed up and wouldn’t answer any further questions. His solicitor informed us her client had said enough for us to charge him and he would not be providing any further information. I’m not sure I’ve hated anyone quite as vehemently as I did his solicitor at that point. Benn and other scum like him were nasty, evil beings who deserved anything and everything that came to them, but her, she was, debatably, a hard-working normal functioning member of society, yet here she was defending this bastard. After hearing all he had done and what he had been involved with, she had stood up for his right not to answer questions, questions that could help identify and save another child. I lifted my face to the water and closed my eyes. Hot shards pricked at my skin, still swollen and tender from the blast. The water stripped the entire day away from me. I stood and allowed it to cleanse me.

  Eventually I stepped out, dragged the towel from the rail and wrapped it around myself before taking my empty glass back into the kitchen and pouring another.

  I remembered Dad had called me a couple of days ago. I took my phone from my coat pocket and sank down to the floor in front of the sofa to dial his number. He picked it up on the third ring. I took a gulp of wine before speaking. “Dad. It’s me.”

  “Hannah?” he mumbled, and I realised how late it was.

  “Yeah, Dad. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “I missed your call a couple of days ago. I’m sorry.” Why was I always apologising when I spoke with him?

  “Oh. Okay. I was up early and saw the news about the girl and presumed you’d be there and up so I thought I’d call.” A pause. I waited. “Zoe sent a VO for you, I’ve got...”

  “No, Dad.” I snapped. “I won’t visit her in prison. She made her choices.” A wave of guilt washed over me. He’d been lost since Mum died. Then with Zoe.

  “I just wish...”

  “I know. It confuses things with my job, you know.”

  “She’s your sister.”

  “Yeah.”

  Silence. I could hear him breathing down the phone. I drank from the glass again. An awkward silence. Unspoken thoughts running simultaneously through our minds.

  “Why don’t you come over on Sunday, I’ll cook you dinner?”

  I took another long drink, emptying the glass. “I’ll probably be at work Sunday. It’s a big case.”

  “Your next day off then? Sunday roast, mid-week. I can do that.”

  “Of course. I’ll let you know when it is. I’m sorry if I woke you.” The glass chinked on the floor as I put it down a little too hard.

  “It’s okay. I like to hear from you,” he murmured, his mind following other conversations from times gone past.

  “Goodnight, Dad.”

  “Goodnight, Hannah.” The buzz in my ear confirmed he had gone. I sighed and dropped my head back onto the seat of the sofa. I missed Mum, but even she would have problems trying to resolve the issues created by my sister.

  59

  I was at the hospital by seven a.m. I’d had six missed calls from Ethan through the night and one withheld number. Another mental to-do was created. The hospital smelled of floor antiseptic, whatever it is they wash the bedding and gowns in, and sick people. Sick people have an awful smell about them, like the illness is seeping out of their pores. I felt rough but I’d made a conscious effort with my appearance that morning; concealer and foundation attempting to cover narrow pink cuts.

  Natalie was still in the same room, but this time it was a different uniform outside her door. I flashed my warrant card and walked in. Clear plastic tubes ran over her body, keeping her alive. Her face was relaxed and the harshness she portrayed when she talked money and her missing child was gone. Her hands, pale with age sp
ots, rested above the cream weave of the hospital blanket. The severe red nail varnish she wore had been removed and her hands looked sallow. She looked pathetic. Weak and pathetic. I sat myself in a chair at the side of her bed and let her know I was there. She didn’t flinch. I took her hand in mine. “Natalie? We have him, Natalie. We have the man who hurt Allison.” I stared long and hard at her. Waiting. She could hear me couldn’t she? They say hearing is the last sense to go and she wasn’t about to go anywhere. I waited some more, her hand limp in mine, her finger ends curling downwards towards the blanket as I held her.

  “Natalie, it was Colin. I’m sorry.” I willed her to hear me. To react. “We have him. He admitted everything. Hurting Allison and setting the hob on the gas oven open. He wanted to destroy evidence and wasn’t concerned if you got caught up in it.” I studied her hard. There was no movement. Nothing to suggest she had heard. “He was scared you knew what had been happening and would link things together. He tried to protect his measly little life. He thought a gas leak wouldn’t be identified as arson. We have him though; he’s going to prison and for a very long time.”

  Silence.

  60

  Sally walked into the incident room, shrugged off her jacket and threw it across the back of her chair as Grey entered.

  “Sally, how are you?” Grey approached, a smile widening his usually thin face. He shook her hand. Her cheeks changed from a pale shade to rosy pink dots. Crap, she would to have to attempt to control these bodily signs that were trying to give her away.

  “I’m well thank you, sir. I needed a couple of days rest. I’m now fit and can’t wait to help put this case together on Benn.” Ross had told her the offender’s name, along with a lot of other information. There wasn’t a lot Ross hadn’t told her. He was so giddy with the size of the job, and the pressure that came from on high only served to increase his eagerness.

  “That’s good. We’ve a strong team who work well, but all hands on deck is what we like.” Grey paused, pushing back a silver strand of loose hair, “So long as both you and your doctors are happy that you’re fit to be here. I know we all want this, but we don’t want to push so hard we injure one of our own, do we now?” His brow furrowed in a questioning look.

  “Sir, I’m fine. The hospital released me.”

  “Happy to hear it.”

  Sally sat at her desk and brought the computer to life. Her life felt uncertain. Tom wasn’t talking to her this morning. Deceiving her friends and co-workers like this wasn't in her nature, but once she’d finished this job there would be no more secrets just a happy news announcement. Everyone would be pleased, and Tom would be happy. Her role would change at work while she was pregnant but afterwards, well, people did manage to juggle full time jobs and have a baby, so she didn’t see why it couldn’t work. It would be hard. She’d be tired, exhausted, but she could do it.

  61

  After the hospital I had to attend court for Benn’s remand application. All went according to plan and a steady drive of ten minutes from the magistrates’ court to Central police station found me back at the office in no time at all. It would have taken half that, but traffic was heavy and slow. The visit to Natalie had hardened my resolve to do what could be done to locate the unknown girl. There was another family out there suffering. Parents wondering where their daughter was and a girl held in a cage with who knew how little time before she became another statistic to be counted in government figures. We had little to work on, with no specifics on the girl, which made it close to impossible to search the National Missing Persons Bureau database. The investigation into her identity had the feel of an impenetrable brick wall. We were completing the case against Benn, getting justice for Rosie and Allison, yet unable to make a real start on the girl in the photograph.

  The kettle roared its way to boiling point, breaking into my thoughts. I emptied its contents into the line-up of mugs on top of the refrigerator, shouted for everyone to collect their own and to listen up for the debrief on the case so far. I turned with hot mug in hand and looked at the team. It had been a good job done by all.

  At this point I saw Sally in her chair. Because I hadn’t expected to see her and hadn’t noticed her when I first walked in it was a jolt. She had her head down and looked busy. I’d expected to speak to her before her return, to be informed. Or maybe I felt ashamed. I hadn’t made that call to see how she was. After all we were in a car together when the world went bang. She was either refusing to look at me or she really was engrossed in what she was doing. I suspected the former, though I was unsure why.

  Ross looked relaxed and happy and Aaron looked calm in his neat tie, tapping at his keyboard. Once drinks were collected and the chatter had died down I thanked everyone for their hard work, let them know we couldn’t slack off or let our guard down and we had to finish the investigation properly by tying everything up neatly with the paperwork. It was an exercise in team management. It was necessary and required; they knew the drill. In the middle of the debrief I took another call on my phone. Withheld number. Again silence greeted me. It was starting to become a bit too regular for my liking. There was no way to identify where the call came from and with the amount of people that had my work number, there was, at this point, more to lose and nothing to gain from changing the number. I just couldn’t figure out who would call but not speak.

  I continued with the debrief. “The digital investigation unit are working on identifying markers in the photograph of the unknown girl. There is little we can do at this moment in time. What we have to focus on is getting the file prepared and in order for the Crown Prosecutor. Once we have something to go on from the photo we will deal with it. I know you are desperate to find her and the people behind this. As soon as the DIU come back to me you will be the first to know.” It was little comfort but it was all we had. Knowing the girl was out there, held in a cage, was frustrating, painful and personal. Aaron nodded, taking it in his stride, acknowledging the boundaries in which we worked. Ross verbalised his frustrations.

  “Bastard fucking paedos. I’d like to put them in a cage and then leave them in an open prison, see how they like it.”

  “Or we could get the evidence against them and put them away for a very long time,” I responded, not in annoyance, but in practical terms. They needed to stay grounded and not too emotionally invested. It wouldn’t do them any good, but I realised they needed an outlet, a place to vent and I had no issues with that in the safety of our working environment.

  “Yeah, that,” answered Ross. A pulse flicked in his jaw.

  I looked over at Sally. She had dropped her head at Ross’s outburst. She felt it, but didn’t have the same level of comfort at verbalising it as Ross did. I understood that. I compartmentalised, closed it off, shut it down. It was how I could see the things I see and not internally combust.

  I took a black coffee into Grey, placed it in front of him and sat down. “Morning, sir.”

  “Morning, Hannah. Good job well done with Benn. How did it go at court?” He smiled with a natural easy smile. One that illustrated his relief at an expeditious conclusion to a nasty high profile investigation. The media hadn’t been informed of the photograph. There was no need for them to know, “not in the public interest” was the term coined. Grey would give an interview and everyone would be happy. The families would be forgotten by the public and life would move on until the next big media sensation.

  “It went well,” I answered. “The remand application went through and he hopefully won’t see the light of day on the outside of those particular walls again.” I placed my cup on his desk. “He didn’t say anything in court other than to offer his name and address.”

  “Good job. I’ll let Claire know and we can reassure the public we have the right man off the streets and the girls can now be put to rest.”

  The remainder of the day went by in a blur of paperwork, meetings and calls with various agencies. The prosecution file was being put together; the forensic evidence
from the crime scenes, dump sites, bodies and computers was coming in slowly but steadily. Several belts had been recovered from Benn’s address and forwarded to Jack to consider for weapon match. A blanket had been found in the boot of his car along with a plastic sheet. A pair of children’s pants and vest were seized from under his pillow. These were all processed by the Forensic Science Service. Benn hadn’t had a lot of time to plan for his crimes and was sloppy with evidence. I didn’t know how his fellow offenders were thinking and what preventative measures they were taking.

  The image of the girl in the photograph wouldn’t leave my mind. It was on an endless loop. She was looking out of the cage waiting for me to come and save her. How long would they keep her alive and would we ever find her body should we not get to her in time? The Digital Investigation Unit were working hard on it, I’d reassured my team they were, but it was leaving me with a very uncomfortable and strung out feeling. The image had been taken recently so I was holding on to hope she was still alive, but I couldn’t bank on it, not with the speed Benn had killed Rosie and Allison. I had to address the issue of how quickly these offenders progressed from torture to murder. The child looked so small, and afraid. I needed to know who she was.

  I looked up from the decision log I was working on and spotted Sally making her way from the photocopier to her desk. I took the opportunity to call her in to my office.

  “Sally, do you have a minute?” I asked through the doorway. She nearly dropped the pile of paperwork in her hands when I spoke. Her knees sank a little as she tried to keep hold of them, paper fluttering like a pack of butterflies trying to take off, but she managed to keep it under control. I knew she had been in the same car I had and she had every reason to be on edge and not quite as sharp as usual, but this uneasy feeling I had about her had begun before the blast. There was something wrong and it was lax of me to let it slide because we were having a busy few shifts. I liked to think of myself as approachable and fair, but Sally wasn’t forthcoming and I didn’t like it. Did I need to be worried?