by MA Comley
Come on, girl. As Ty Pennington would say, ‘Let’s do it!’
Not much had changed in the drab reception area. A few of the uniformed coppers nodded their heads in acknowledgement and recognition. Walking up to the desk, she was saddened to see Sergeant Harry Watson standing erect behind it.
“Everything all right, ma’am?” he asked, looking perplexed.
“What? Oh sorry, Harry. I was expecting Sergeant Harris.”
“Ahh…Bert retired at the end of last year, ma’am. Can I just say it’s good to have you back?”
Lorne smiled and nodded. “Of course he did. I’ll have to drop by and see him when I get five minutes—and thanks, Harry. That’s kind of you.” She shrugged and pulled a face. “I’ll tell you at the end of the week if it’s good to be back.”
The sergeant buzzed her through the secure door, and she walked up the concrete stairs, through the grey dingy hallway to the incident room. When she opened the door, Sean stopped addressing the group of officers in the Serious Crime Squad, and everyone turned to look at her. A moment’s silence filled the room before AJ started clapping. Before long, the room had erupted into applause, and Lorne battled to control the flush turning her cheeks beet red.
Sean approached her, took her by the elbow, and guided her into the room. They came to a standstill in front of the whiteboard that she assumed the DCI had been writing fresh notes upon. Sean raised his hand, and the room fell silent again.
He cleared his throat and announced, “Lorne, on behalf of the gang, welcome back. You’ve been missed.”
Glancing around the room, she saw her old team nod their heads in approval at the DCI’s words. But one person, a young woman at the back, was giving her a hard, cold stare.
“Thanks, Detective Chief Inspector Roberts. It’s good to be back, I think. I’ve missed all you guys, too. Now, let’s get to work, shall we?” She’d never been one for idle chitchat during working hours, and her team knew that. She just hoped they remembered it and hadn’t let their standards slip in her absence.
Sean took over. “I guess the first thing I should do is introduce you to a new member of the team. Katy, step forward please.” The woman joined them, apparently grudgingly. Lorne stretched out her hand to greet Katy as Sean introduced them. “Sergeant Katy Foster, this is Superwoman herself—otherwise known as Detective Inspector Lorne Simpkins, your new partner.”
The pair shook hands. Lorne smiled, while the other woman’s mouth remained set in a straight line. Lorne made a mental note to find out the officer’s background from Roberts after the meeting was over.
Roberts seemed to ignore the sergeant’s strange behaviour. “Okay, Lorne. Do you want to take a seat over here? I’ll fill everyone in on a new case that cropped up overnight. Feel free to butt in any time to ask questions.”
Both women sat down as Roberts ran through the case.
“At some time just after eleven last night, Dave Dobbs returned to his house in Chelsea to find his two small children murdered and his wife fighting for her life.”
Chelsea? Lorne asked, “That’s a pretty well-to-do area, sir. Are we talking a wealthy family, here?”
Sean smiled, obviously pleased to see her police brain kicking into gear within minutes of being back on duty. “Yes, Inspector. When I tell you that Dave Dobbs is a premiership footballer, you’ll get an idea of the kind of money we’re talking about. Here’s where it gets interesting: the proprietor can’t understand how an intruder could get into the house. The place has state-of-the-art security. Okay, there are no dogs on guard, because they had young kids, but they have CCTV, and no one could get in the gates without knowing the code,” Roberts said, pointing to the notes he’d written on the board.
“Are there any nearby neighbours? Did they see or hear anything?” Lorne asked.
“Not sure, as yet. I want you to go out there first thing, Inspector, to walk the scene. I’m not sure what the neighbourhood is like, whether it’s close-knit or not—I suspect the latter, since Dobbs had all that security. None of the neighbours have been questioned yet. I’d like you to organise your team to go house to house. It’s all we’ve got to go on at the moment. SOCO are at the house now; Joe Wallis is in charge over there. He’s relatively new, so you won’t know him. Any other questions? Bear in mind, this is all we have to go on at this time.”
“How bad is the wife? What’s her condition? And what happened to the kids, sir?” Lorne asked quietly.
“The wife, Trisha, is on a ventilator. She was stabbed repeatedly. I’m waiting on a doctor’s report as to how bad she really is. And the kids—Rebecca, aged four, and Jacob, aged two—had their throats cut.”
“Jesus, have you had any other incidents like this in recent months?” Lorne asked, her professionalism uppermost despite her eyes misting up with tears at the thought of the pain and suffering the little mites must have been subjected to. In all her time in the force, she’d never come across such a crime. She’d encountered heinous crimes of murder and rape—her own teenage daughter had been a victim of the latter—but she’d never actually come across a burglary where the criminal had killed two innocent toddlers.
Sean Roberts shook his head. “Not that I know of. I’ve instructed Molly to check the database to see if anything else flags up in another area.”
Lorne looked around to find Molly in the room and gave her a quick smile. Molly, a brunette in her mid-thirties with whom Lorne had had severe problems in the past, smiled back and gave a thumbs-up.
“Right, any other questions?” Roberts asked, scanning the room.
The room remained silent.
“Very well then. Lorne, I’d like to see you in your office for five minutes, and then you can instruct your team on what you want them to do next.” Roberts was already walking in the direction of Lorne’s office.
Her stomach clenched as she stood on the threshold of the room she’d once shared with her dead partner, Pete. Roberts watched, expression concerned. Lorne sucked in a deep breath and could’ve sworn she smelt Pete’s Cool Water aftershave lingering in the doorway with her. Was it possible he was there to lend a helping hand?
“Everything all right, Lorne?”
She took a hesitant step into the room. “Yeah, just a few memories I have to contend with.”
Roberts grimaced. “If I could sort you out another office, I would, but these renovations seemed to have ground to a halt with all the cutbacks going on at the moment.”
She laughed. “Hey, maybe my builders could lend a hand.”
“That’s right. I forgot you’re into that sort of thing now. What’s happening with that side of things? Is Tony taking over the reins?”
“No. We’re seeing how things progress here first—”
“Whoa! You mean you don’t think this is going to work out?” Roberts said, shocked.
“I don’t have a crystal ball, sir. There’s no telling what might happen. My builders will continue to work on the properties under the guidance of the foreman. I bunged him an extra £50 a week. I can catch up with things on the weekend, provided I’m not expected to do overtime. And before you make promises you can’t keep, I know that whether I get time off or not depends on how a case is going. I’m not that green.”
“It’s good to have you back, Lorne. I’ve missed your feistiness and ‘tell it how it is’ attitude. Your predecessor was so far up his own backside…Well, you know what I mean. I think he had a sense of humour bypass in his dim and not-so-distant past.”
She laughed. Feeling less tense, she walked around the desk and sat in her old chair. Yes, she was back. Now what?
She remembered Katy’s cool greeting. “This new sergeant, what’s her background?”
He sat in the chair opposite her and steepled his fingers, as he usually did when he was contemplating something.
“She was transferred from the Manchester force, just passed her sergeant’s exam. This will be the first case in her new role.”
“
So, as well as returning to work after a two-year absence, it’s up to me to babysit a new recruit, too?”
Sean chuckled. “She’s hardly young, Lorne.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s barely out of nappies. She must be what, twenty-three?”
“Very good. She’s twenty-two.”
Lorne whistled and shook her head. “I’ve never known a sergeant that young, sir. What’s the story?”
The DCI winced and said quietly, “She’s a friend of Superintendent Greenfall. Well, she’s not, but her father is. She’s got a bit of a chip on her shoulder. I thought you could knock her into shape in your own inimitable way.”
Stunned, she stared at him open-mouthed before she recovered. “Christ, welcome back to the lion’s den, Lorne, and don’t forget to suck up to your new novice partner. She’s your nemesis’ protégée. If you don’t tippy-toe around her, you know what will happen.”
She could tell Roberts was struggling not to laugh.
“Sums it up nicely, I’d say,” he said jovially, as he departed the room.
Why did she have the feeling she’d been duped?
CHAPTER THREE
Lorne issued her team its tasks and set off for the crime scene with new recruit Katy Foster alongside her.
At the reception desk, DCI Roberts had left the keys to a Vauxhall Vectra that was parked alongside her small Nova in the car park. It was late September. The trees were beginning to turn rich golden and bronze. The autumn rain and high winds were bringing hundreds of leaves to the ground, making the roads and pavements hazardous.
As they headed out to Chelsea, Katy hadn’t said a word after fifteen minutes in the car. Lorne decided to speak first. “So, Katy, how long have you been down here? DCI Roberts told me you were based in Manchester.”
Staring at the road ahead of her, Katy replied, “A month.”
Her tone held an edge that didn’t sit well with Lorne, but she continued the conversation nevertheless. “You’re very young to be a sergeant. You must have impressed your superiors.”
“Yep,” came the younger woman’s abrupt retort.
Lorne navigated the heaving London traffic before trying again. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Yep.”
Lorne bit the inside of her lip, forcing back the anger she feared would escape the next time she opened her mouth. Although she herself was known for her feistiness, she’d never been rude with it. Katy was striking her as rude. Glancing out the corner of her eye, she saw that Katy held her back rigid and her arms folded tightly across her chest. One final attempt, and then if she doesn’t answer, well…
“So has your boyfriend stayed up in Manchester, or has he come down here with you?” Lorne made certain that the question required more than a one-word answer.
“Yep, he’s back there.”
Ah ha! So that might be her problem; maybe she was missing him.
“Is he going to join you down here?”
“Maybe.”
Anger bubbled near the surface, but they arrived at the Dobbses’ house. Annoyed, Lorne ordered tersely, “When we get inside, I want you to stay by my side, okay?”
She heard Katy expel her breath and tut noisily. Lorne wanted to grab her by the shoulders and give her a good shake. She hated insubordination. She’d always run a tight ship with a supporting crew—except for Molly, but Lorne had even turned her around, come the end. The trouble was that she’d have to tread carefully where Katy was concerned, due to the Greenfall factor.
This situation sucks!
Pulling up to the gates a uniformed officer approached the car. She showed him her warrant card and introduced Katy.
“Very well, ma’am. If you pull over to the left there, it’ll ensure the SOCO team can leave the scene without obstruction once they’re finished.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.”
The house was huge. Lorne guessed that the large red-bricked mansion house dated back to the Victorian era. The front garden was mostly laid to lawn and bordered with mature shrubs that ranged in colour from golden yellow to deep plum. Her father, once an avid gardener, would be in awe of this beautifully tended garden.
The two women stepped out of the vehicle. Lorne opened the boot to look for plastic shoes for them to use. She could’ve kicked herself for not coming prepared; her old car would’ve been kitted out properly. Yet another job to add to her to-do list.
“Damn it. Nothing,” she told Katy, who only shrugged in response, making Lorne’s annoyance and anger intensify.
When they approached the front door, one of the Scene of Crime officers was at his vehicle. Lorne asked him for some plastic shoes, which he retrieved from the back of his van and handed to her.
“I’m looking for Joe Wallis. Is he still here?” Lorne asked the officer, a man in his early-mid thirties, as she slipped on the blue plastic shoes.
“In the bedroom upstairs, ma’am. We’re almost finished here,” the officer told her.
“Dare I ask if you’ve found much?”
“I’d rather you ask Wallis that, ma’am,” he replied, giving her an awkward smile.
“I understand. Thanks for the shoes. Come on, Sergeant.”
Stepping through the front door, Lorne looked up at the magnificent vaulted hallway and galleried landing, decorated in a stark white that had splashes of red in the form of vases, picture frames, and curtains. The modern look was totally different to what she’d been expecting from the exterior of the property.
With her warrant card in hand and Katy behind her, she made her way up the grand sweeping staircase towards the master bedroom at the end of the hallway, passing by several open doors en route. Lorne glanced in the rooms as she passed and marvelled at how beautifully decorated they all were, even the two children’s bedrooms. One room was bubble gum pink and had a canopied princess bed along one wall, while the other had a mural of a castle painted on the wall. The bed had chains on either end, as though it were a drawbridge that lowered and rose when required by its keeper, who sadly was no longer with them.
Several of the SOCO team, dressed in white paper suits, were still hard at work in the main bedroom when they entered.
“Joe Wallis?” Lorne asked the suited man nearest the door.
“Over here. And you are?” The goatee-bearded man was in his mid-forties, his hair on the cusp of turning grey. His brown eyes glistened in the artificially lit room.
Lorne proffered her hand, but he held his gloved hands uppermost and shrugged.
“I’m Detective Inspector Lorne Simpkins, SIO of the case. Can you tell me what you’ve found?”
“Sure, I’m almost done here. Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll walk you through the house.”
“Thanks.” Lorne stepped back into the hallway and stood against the wall. Katy stayed in the doorway, watching the SOCO officers carry out their work.
“Have you worked on a murder case before, Sergeant?”
“Once or twice.”
Lorne eyed the younger woman, trying to figure her out. Katy was fairly pretty, didn’t wear much makeup, and had olive skin with what Lorne thought were acne scars. She was slim, about the same size as Lorne in height and build, but Lorne noticed that her mahogany brown hair had the look of being pampered and cut by an expert hairdresser.
“You want to be more specific about your experience?”
Katy shrugged and kept her eyes trained on the room in front of her, another thing Lorne hated and considered rude. Finally, Katy replied, “We have murders up there, too, you know.”
“Did I say you didn’t? Look, Katy. If we’re going to wor—” Lorne stopped when Wallis came marching out of the room and down the hallway.
“Come along, Inspector. I haven’t got all day,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared downstairs.
“Never mind. Come on.” Lorne trotted after Wallis.
The two women walked through the double glass doors into the lounge. Wallis stood by the French doors that led out
onto the terrace and pool area. At his feet, the cream carpet had a bloodstain the size of a large beach ball.
“This is where the boy child died, Jacob Dobbs. His hands were tied behind his back, as were his mother’s.”
Wallis walked to another area and indicated another blood spot on the carpet half the size of the last one. “Trisha Dobbs was stabbed here, at least ten times—how she survived, I’ll never know, but she did. And over there—” Wallis pointed to the white couch approximately ten feet away. “That is where the little girl, Rebecca Dobbs, was found. Like her brother, the poor mite’s throat had been cut.”
“Don’t you think that’s odd? That both children were killed like that, and yet the mother only had stab wounds. I say only, but you know what I mean.”
“I agree, most odd. Maybe the intruder wanted to make the mother suffer before and after,” Wallis said frankly, as if he’d already thought deeply about the circumstances and possible motives of the criminals.
Lorne looked at all three spots again, her mind racing with probabilities. “You mean, you think the mother was intentionally left alive?”
Wallis’ mouth turned down, and he nodded. “That’s how it looks to me. Otherwise, why didn’t she suffer the same fate as her children?”
Lorne’s brow furrowed. “Do you think the intruder knew the family? Was it some kind of punishment, perhaps?”
“Now that, Inspector, is something you need to find out. The place was torn apart, both in here and upstairs in the bedrooms. I’d say they were after jewellery, but it’s possible they could’ve been after something else. The best person in a position to answer that would be Mr. Dobbs.”
“Have you found any fingerprints?” Lorne asked.
“Yes, but we won’t know if they’re the family’s until we run the tests. There’s also a glass. Looks like brandy in it; maybe the intruder poured a drink while he was here. Again, we’ll run the usual tests on the glass and get the results back to you ASAP. That’s as much as I can tell you, Inspector.”
“Who’s the pathologist on the case, do you know?”
