The wedding itself on the seventh of May had been a beautiful day; it was everything the couple had wanted it to be. There was a black shadow hanging over the proceedings though, as Jimmy Wade continued to evade capture.
It was as if the infamous killer had vanished into thin air.
Danny had felt uneasy about taking two weeks off at that time. He had postponed the honeymoon for three weeks, in the hope there would be a breakthrough and Wade would be caught and returned to the high-security hospital.
The escape of Wade had caused massive public unrest and major political rumblings. As a direct result, the Home Secretary had called for a huge revamping and upgrading of the current security arrangements at Rampton Hospital and other similar secure units dotted across the country.
The government had promised a huge budget to carry out this work as a matter of urgency.
All the political interest had kept the escape in the public eye for weeks, and the longer it took the police to recapture Wade, the greater the pressure felt by Danny Flint and the small team of detectives on the MCIU.
The breakthrough hadn’t come.
Eventually all lines of enquiry were exhausted, and no other sightings were coming into the incident room.
Danny’s boss, Detective Chief Superintendent Bill Wainwright, had eventually insisted that Danny take his annual leave and fly to Madeira with his new wife for their belated honeymoon.
The couple had landed on the recently extended runway at Funchal Airport, on the first of June, to begin their honeymoon.
Danny had booked the bridal suite at Reid’s Palace. The famous hotel with the pink walls was located on a cliff edge next to the ocean, just outside the city of Funchal.
The hotel offers the height of luxury and is renowned for the famous guests it has attracted over the years. The wartime Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, had regularly been a guest at the hotel and had stayed in one of the suites just along the corridor from where Danny and Sue had spent two idyllic weeks.
Now, as Danny waited for the flight information board to change, he began to experience a sense of trepidation about what would be waiting for him when he arrived back in England. There had been no messages giving the news Danny craved: that Wade had been recaptured.
Before he left on his honeymoon, Danny had left strict instructions with Detective Inspector Rob Buxton to contact him the moment Wade was caught.
He sat quietly, pondering how he was going to generate some impetus into a floundering manhunt. The detective fully understood the reason he felt so troubled. In his heart, he knew it would only be a matter of time before Wade killed again.
Their flight would arrive at East Midlands Airport at five o’clock that afternoon. Danny intended to be back at his desk by eight o’clock the following morning.
He felt Sue squeeze his arm, disturbing him from his thoughts. He glanced at his wife and saw her staring into his face.
She asked, with a measure of concern, ‘Are you okay, sweetheart? You’ve got that faraway look in your eyes.’
‘I’m fine, don’t worry. I was just thinking about what’s going to be waiting for me when I get back to work tomorrow.’
Sue sighed deeply. ‘The last two weeks have been absolutely beautiful. No interruptions, no telephone calls in the middle of the night, no long shifts. It’s been heaven.’
‘It has been wonderful, sweetheart; I wish it could be like this all the time. Promise me one thing, Sue.’
‘Go on.’
‘Promise me that however manic our work lives get, we’ll never stop loving each other.’
‘That’s an easy promise to make, Detective. You know exactly how I feel about you.’
With a grin spreading over his suntanned features, he said, ‘I still like to hear you say it, though.’
‘Oh, do you now?’ said Sue, teasing him.
‘Of course I do.’ His grin got wider.
Sue giggled mischievously. ‘Well, I’m sorry, Detective, there’s no time now; the information board has just changed. You’ll just have to hold that thought and ask me again when we get home.’
‘Don’t you worry, Mrs Flint, I will!’
Danny kissed her passionately on the lips, then said, ‘Oh, I definitely will.’
The couple stood, picked up their hand luggage, and made their way hand in hand to the boarding gate.
4
21 June 1986
South Lodge, Retford
The stone lodge was idyllic.
Its sandstone blocks provided a myriad of different amber and honey hues as they were illuminated by the rays of the early morning sun. The sandstone blocks contrasted beautifully against the dark green conifer trees and the lighter, emerald greens of the deciduous trees that formed the dense forest surrounding the building on all sides.
The lodge was situated in a natural clearing in the woods. It had originally been built to provide a residence for the gamekeeper employed by the Retford Hall Estate. Although still situated in the very heart of the vast country estate, South Lodge had long been sold off to the public.
The property had neat, tended gardens to the front and rear of the lodge. Behind the small rear garden, there was a field that contained two stone outbuildings. This field was separated from the surrounding woods by the river Poulter, which, in reality, was little more than a wide stream.
The windows in the lodge were characteristically small and let in very little light. There was an entrance hall, lounge and kitchen downstairs. The upstairs was made up of two bedrooms and a bathroom. A toilet had been added to this bathroom in recent years. The original outside privy was still located in the rear garden.
The old front door was made from solid oak and was set in an impressive stone archway. The rear door was a more modern stable design, where the top half could be left open on hot summer days.
At the front of the property there was a parking area made up of black cinder. It was large enough to accommodate two vehicles and was situated directly outside the front gate.
Access to South Lodge was via a single-track dirt road that ran off one of the many country lanes that ran through the estate. Very few people even knew of its existence. It was this very isolation that had first attracted Melissa Braithwaite to buy the secluded property.
Following the unexpected death of her parents, she had been in a dark place and had sought isolation and solitude to try to come to terms with her grief.
That solitude had ended three months ago. Melissa now had a permanent house guest to share her isolation.
Jimmy Wade stared hard at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror.
He barely recognised himself.
His hair was now shoulder length and dyed dark brown; he had a full beard that had been dyed the same colour as his hair. The only thing he recognised about himself were the piercing blue eyes that sparkled back at him.
Three months had passed since his escape from Rampton Hospital.
As he stared at himself in the mirror, he grinned as he recalled the way he had outfoxed the police. He knew that following their escape, they would be tracked by police dogs. That was one of the main reasons he had involved Clive Winstanley in the escape.
Not only did he need the giant Winstanley to help him overpower their guards, but he had also taken the calculated gamble that a police dog would track Winstanley before him. The West Indian was a huge man. Wade had gambled that because of his huge bulk, Winstanley’s body odour would be stronger than his own. He believed that a dog, when tracking, would always pick up on and follow the strongest track.
Still staring narcissistically at his own reflection, he ran his fingers through his long hair and tied it back in a tight ponytail. He didn’t really care how it had happened, all the minutiae of the escape. He was just glad to be out of that hellhole.
Putting on a mustard-coloured T-shirt, he shouted, ‘Mel, where are my Levi’s?’
From the bedroom next door, Melissa Braithwaite replied quietly, ‘Sorry,
Jimmy, I’ve washed them. They’ll be dry soon; can’t you slip on some jogging bottoms for now?’
There was a tremor in her voice. She was now absolutely terrified of Wade.
It had only taken two weeks for Wade to get bored of her.
Braithwaite had been totally besotted by the serial killer and had willingly taken the massive step to assist him in his escape. First, by providing him with a weapon, and then second, by providing transport away from the area surrounding the high-security hospital.
At first, being alone in the lodge with Jimmy had been everything she’d hoped it was going to be.
Jimmy had been considerate and passionate.
Melissa had never had a man make love to her the way that Jimmy Wade did. After hours of energetic lovemaking, she would lie on the bed totally spent.
He was insatiable. As she lay exhausted, he would begin to slowly caress her and would become instantly aroused again. Their lovemaking lasted hours – all night, and on occasions, all the following day.
Eventually, she felt sore and was so exhausted, she began to refuse his advances.
On one occasion after being refused, Wade forced himself upon her. He used physical violence to ensure he sated his all-consuming lust.
From that moment on, whenever she hadn’t complied, he had used force and physical violence to get what he wanted.
Imperceptibly at first, he began to become more domineering in every way. He started to control every aspect of their lives together. As time went on, the slightest comment – or anything else he perceived to be wrong – would result in physical violence. At first, it was just a shove or a slap; then it became a punch.
Finally, all it took was one word out of turn or a single act out of place for Melissa to become the subject of a sustained and savage beating.
The beatings got progressively worse until she had become a virtual shadow of her former self. She was not allowed out of the property alone. He would sexually assault her whenever he felt the urge and forced her into performing ever more degrading and base acts with him.
Jimmy Wade now totally controlled her.
Melissa lived in constant fear that he would kill her.
Her existence was nothing like she had imagined it would be when she had assisted him to escape from Rampton.
The words of Stewart Ainsworth constantly replayed inside her head.
On a previous visit to her home, the young social worker had warned Melissa that she should never forget that Jimmy Wade was a pure psychopath, a monster.
Now that it was too late, she had come to realise just how true those words were.
She now obeyed Wade’s every word without question.
The sustained and cruel abuse she suffered every day had totally broken her spirit. She knew that even if an opportunity arose for her to escape, she would not be strong enough to take it. There was no way she would ever be free. He now totally controlled her, mentally and physically.
Jimmy Wade had thoroughly enjoyed the transformation of Melissa Braithwaite. He had turned her from being an equally enthused lover into his own personal sex slave.
He savagely manipulated her fragile mental state and bullied her at every opportunity. He was aware that she had no family or friends who were likely to come calling or show an interest in her well-being.
As far as Wade was concerned, Melissa Braithwaite was naïve, stupid and ripe for exploitation.
It suited his purpose to have her totally subservient. He needed someone who would obey his every word instantly. He’d tired of having sex with her. He used rough sex as a weapon to confirm and enforce his control over her.
It was far more pleasurable than beating her, was more effective, and worked quicker.
He knew she no longer possessed the will or the nerve to try to escape his clutches. He had broken her resistance completely. She was now his slave, and he could do to her what he liked, when he liked, safe in the knowledge that she would comply instantly and without question.
Enraged by her last comment about his jeans, Jimmy now stormed from the bathroom into the bedroom and pulled the naked Melissa from the bed by her hair. He screamed in her face, ‘When did I tell you to wash my jeans?’
‘I’m sorry, Jimmy, they looked grubby, so I put them in the washer last night. They should be nearly dry by now.’
He slapped her hard across the face. The blow was delivered with such force that it left vivid red finger marks across her cheek.
‘How many times have I got to tell you? You ask me first! You never think for yourself. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, Jimmy, I’m sorry.’
‘Go downstairs and find me something to put on!’
‘What would you like to wear?’
‘You see, that wasn’t too hard, was it? I would like to wear my grey jogging bottoms today. Now get your fat arse downstairs and fetch them!’
Her face still stinging from the slap, Melissa ran naked from the bedroom and down the stairs, returning seconds later with a pair of grey jogging bottoms. She handed them to Jimmy, who put them on. He then grabbed Melissa by the arm, gripping her tightly.
Instinctively, she flinched and cringed away from him.
He drew her in closer to him and began to stroke her hair.
He whispered seductively, ‘Don’t flinch, sweetheart. You know I love you more than anything else in the world. You have given me my freedom; I can never repay you for that, my darling.’
With one huge hand, he gripped both her cheeks and turned her face towards his. He kissed her passionately on the mouth. Her cheek was still sore from the hard slap, but now, as she stared into his sparkling blue eyes, she felt familiar urges coursing through her body. Even after all the beatings, just looking at him filled her with a burning desire she had never previously known.
She doubted her own sanity more every day.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘I’m sorry, too. I don’t know why you insist on making me so angry. If you didn’t make me angry, I wouldn’t have to slap you. Why do you do it, sweetheart?’
‘I don’t know, Jimmy. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay; I know you’re sorry. Go back downstairs and cook me some breakfast. Don’t bother getting dressed today. I want to look at your gorgeous body while you’re cooking. You know how much that always turns me on. Hurry along now; we’ve got a busy day ahead. I’ve waited long enough; it’s time I settled a few old scores with those bastards from Rampton. Are you going to help me do that, sweetheart?’
‘Of course. You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?’
‘Oh, I do, sweetheart. I do know that.’
5
23 June 1986
Haywood Oaks Lane, Blidworth, Nottinghamshire
Anne Parr was livid, virtually fuming.
She could barely contain her anger as she opened the hatchback boot of her new Vauxhall Astra to let out Molly, her chocolate brown Labrador.
As she clipped the metal chain onto Molly’s leather collar, she reflected on the events of yesterday that had made her so angry.
It was still difficult for her to accept how appallingly she had been treated by the owners of the factory where she worked. After twenty years of loyal service as a machinist at Leigh & Oliver’s Hosiery factory, she had been handed her redundancy notice.
In just two weeks’ time, she would be unemployed.
Fourteen fucking days!
Didn’t they realise that she had bills to pay?
Anne was approaching forty with two teenage daughters. She’d been a single parent for the last five years, after her husband, Ray, had walked out on the family following a brief affair with his secretary. Just a week after he walked out, the young secretary dumped him.
Karma was a bitch.
Ray had come crawling back, with his tail firmly between his legs. She never even considered taking the rat back.
It had been a financial struggle ever since, but like most sing
le parents, Anne always put her own needs last. She was only too aware that following the acrimonious split from her husband, she’d let herself go a little. There was no spare cash for glamorous hairdos, manicures or new clothes.
She hadn’t been inclined to date other men, so what was the point in trying to glam herself up? It would have been a waste of much-needed cash.
The one thing she had saved hard for was her new car.
It was her pride and joy.
To cheer herself up a little, she glanced back over her shoulder at the brand-new Vauxhall Astra.
Almost instantly, the black depression rushed back, and she muttered aloud, ‘I suppose that fucker will have to go back, too.’
Her sombre mood remained as she walked with Molly along the single-track road deeper into the Forestry Commission woodland just off Haywood Oaks Lane. The woods were situated on the outskirts of the small village of Blidworth and were one of Anne’s favourite places.
The track petered out to a dead end about twenty yards ahead. Molly would then have her morning run in her own favourite area of the woods, undisturbed.
Most of the dog walkers used a different entrance into the woods. This area could be quite boggy sometimes and was scarcely used. That was just how Anne liked it. A few months earlier, Molly had been attacked by two Staffordshire bull terriers. As a result, the placid Labrador was now very anxious around other dogs.
Looking at the woods surrounding her, Anne realised just what a beautiful morning it was. The sun was already out, and even though it was still early, it was already starting to get warm. The hot, dry spell looked set to continue. The birds were singing, and the dappled sunlight streaming through the canopy of leaves was breathtakingly beautiful.
At the end of the track, Anne bent down and unclipped Molly from her lead. The chocolate brown dog rushed off into the surrounding woodland. Anne slumped down on the trunk of a fallen tree and reflected a little more on her plight.
A Cold Grave: A DCI Danny Flint Book Page 3
