by A L Fraine
“That’s right. He’s close with Jordan. They’re mates and go drinking together sometimes.”
Kate nodded and made a note of Naomi’s opinion. “What about um, Robyn Boyce is it? The girl in Black. How well do you know her?”
“Robyn? She’s nice, I guess,” she answered, shrugging. “She’s quiet, keeps to herself. You know the type.”
“Sure,” Kate answered, thinking to herself that it was always the quiet ones you had to watch.
Nathan spoke up with a new line of questioning. “I have some notes here that say you reported your former husband, Steve Brewster for harassment three times following your separation, and once again after your divorce. The last time was a little under a year ago.”
Naomi nodded. Kate noticed her body language changing again as if shutters had suddenly descended.
“Has there been any further harassment since?”
“No,” Naomi answered her, her voice clipped. This was a subject that she didn’t like to talk about. At the very least, it sounded like there were bad memories there.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Naomi answered him.
“Does he know about your new job?” Kate asked, seeing where Nathan was going with this.
Naomi shook her head. “I… don’t think so. I’ve not told him. I don’t even know where he lives anymore. He could be in Scotland, for all I know.”
“You’re certain about that?”
Naomi nodded.
“What about photography. Are you into photography? Taking Polaroids maybe?”
Naomi shook her head in confusion.
“What about Steve?”
“No,” Naomi replied, the very idea of that clearly sounding ridiculous to her.
“Is there anything else you wish to tell us?” Nathan asked.
“I don’t think so,” Naomi answered him. “But if you have any more questions, I’m happy to answer them.”
Kate caught Nathan’s glance, silently asking her if she had any other questions. Kate gave a slight shake of her head and a shrug of her shoulders, indicating that she didn’t.
“Alright, then. Thank you, Miss Sawyer, for coming in today, you’ve been very helpful,” Nathan finished.
Leaving the interview room behind, another officer led Naomi Sawyer out while Kate and Nathan made their way back upstairs.
“So, you did some digging on her, did you?” Kate asked.
“Sorry, I just found that out before I got the phone call that she was here. I didn’t have time to share it with you before going in.”
Kate nodded. “Understood. But can we keep each other in the loop from now on?”
“Of course. Sorry. I’m used to working alone most of the time.”
Kate nodded. “That’s okay, I understand.”
“Let’s finish up, it’s way past the end of your shift anyway. I’m getting a series of interviews lined up for tomorrow with everyone who was in the office. We need to know a little more about these people.”
“We’re not working into the small hours on this?” she asked.
Nathan smiled. “It’s your first day, you’ve already put in some overtime, but I need you fresh for tomorrow. Besides, the night shift can continue some of the work we’ve been doing.”
“Are you leaving too?” she asked, getting the feeling that she knew what the answer would be.
“No, I’ll stay on a little longer, and I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” Kate’s suspicions had been right, he wasn’t finishing up just yet.
“Okay, if you’re sure,” Kate answered, as she noticed DCI Dean walking over to her with DI Mason in tow. “Sir?” she said in greeting.
“O’Connell. Nathan. Is it going well?”
“We’re making progress, sir,” Nathan replied.
“Send today's report over to Mason and I, will you?”
“I’ll finish it up and send it over now. I’m sending Kate home, though. Her shift’s over.
“Good idea, don’t want the rookie getting burnout on the first day,” the DCI replied.
“I’m fine, I can manage,” Kate replied.
“I know you can. Your record is exemplary, but you’ve already worked longer than you should today,” he explained, checking the time on his watch. “You’re more useful to us refreshed and awake though.”
“As you wish, sir,” Kate replied, feeling a little deflated that she was being sent home, but she understood his reasoning.
“Kate, do you have a moment before you head home?” the DCI asked.
“Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nathan,” she said with a smile and followed the DCI back to his office, where she had started her first day on the job. She sat opposite him again as he leant forward onto his desk with a friendly expression on his face.
“So, how was your first day?” he asked.
“Very productive, sir. Getting assigned a case like this on my first day was a little daunting, but I think Nathan and I are working well together.”
“So, no worries or concerns?”
“Well, the way this case is being run is a little unorthodox sir, but if you’re okay with it?”
Malcolm Dean leant forward, putting his arms on the desk. “I understand. Look, Nathan is a skilled detective. He knows what he’s doing. He used to have my job, before…”
“I know. Claire told me.”
Malcolm nodded. “Good. So this case should play to his strengths. It should also give you a chance to shine, provided Nathan doesn’t go off the rails again.”
“I’m sure he won’t.”
“Do your duty, that’s all you can do, and tell me if he goes off on some wild tangent. I can protect you if need be, make sure he doesn’t take your career down with him.”
“I’m certain that won’t happen.”
DCI Dean smiled. “I’m sure it won’t either. I’m being overcautious. So, other than that, is everything okay?”
“Yes, sir, I’m quite happy, not sure DI Mason is though.”
“Hmmm. I know about Mason. He’s had issues with Nathan for a while, but I know Nathan better than he does. Nathan might have some strange ideas about the world, but he is a skilled detective. He’ll do a good job on this, as will you, I’m sure.”
Kate smiled. “Thank you for the vote of confidence, sir. I’ll do my best.”
“Excellent. You can come speak to me at any time. I know Nathan can be difficult sometimes.”
Kate smiled. “Seriously, it’s fine. He’s a pussycat, really.”
The DCI raised his eyebrows at her comment. “Is that right?”
“Maybe don’t tell him I said so, sir.”
“Sure thing. Alright, you’re free to go. Get some rest, you’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 8
It was dark outside again, he realised as he woke up, his body stiff and in pain. He’d lost track of the days a long time ago.
At least, it felt like it was a long time ago. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was only a few nights. He couldn’t be sure. It all blended into one, like some kind of horrific nightmare that there was no waking up from.
He was in constant pain. Everything ached. His wrists and ankles were sore, rubbed red and raw from the unforgiving metal cuffs that held him spread-eagled to the bed. Even if he could lift his head, which he doubted was possible it hurt so much, he didn’t want to look down at his body.
He didn’t like to think about what that monster had done to him. The thought of the torture alone was enough to reduce him to a quivering wreck or make him vomit up the little food that had been given to him.
He was hungry the whole time, and there was a constant ache in his gut. He couldn’t be sure if that was the effect of his hunger or the injuries that his captor had inflicted upon him.
Mark closed his eyes, shutting out the view of the stained ceiling he knew so well, which seemed to taunt his every waking moment.
He remembered the screams and shouts from the other room. When h
ad that been? Recently. He was sure of that.
When he’d first heard the sounds of movement, when his captor had presumably dragged what Mark felt sure was another victim into the building, he’d thought he was being rescued.
He called out in desperate, blind panic. Shouting to get attention, as much as his ruined body would allow.
But it had been no use.
Later came the screams. He’d been woken up by them. They came from another room somewhere nearby after his captor had left the building.
The man's words were slurred, unintelligible, but Mark had called out all the same. He’d tried to get a name, but couldn’t be sure if he’d heard correctly.
Jaden? Jordan? Jason? It could have been any of those.
Then his captor had returned and hurt the man before either killing or removing the him from the building. Mark didn’t know which, but the screaming had stopped.
And he was alone again.
“Good evening, Mark. How are we today?” came the all too familiar voice of his captor and the sound of his footsteps on the hard floor as he approached.
Mark tensed, knowing what was coming.
“The time draws near, my friend. The time of your great sacrifice and my ascension. Ah, yes. It will be glorious. Truly glorious. But as you know, Mark, all great works require time and dedication. They require much work in order to come to fruition. Failing to prepare means preparing to fail. You’ve heard that little phrase before, right?”
Mark glanced up at the dark figure that loomed above him.
“A masterpiece requires sacrifice, doesn’t it Mark? And that’s where you come in.”
A shiver ran down Mark’s spine at those words, and he knew he looked scared.
Above him, the man lifted the camera to his face and snapped another photo, just as he had done the previous day.
“Don’t be afraid, my friend. You’re in good hands,” the man said, putting the camera down and raising a gleaming blade into view. “So, let’s get to work, shall we?”
Mark screamed as the pain redoubled, but no one heard him.
CHAPTER 9
Turning into the village of Horsley, having fought her way through morning traffic, Kate immediately noticed several vans poorly parked along the sides of the roads. There were some in the hotel car park opposite the station, and more down the right turn of the upcoming corner. She spotted the usual logos of local and national news organisations on the sides of the vehicles and rolled her eyes.
The word was out, it seemed.
Pulling into the station’s car park, Kate saw the crowd of people outside the building. A third of them held bulky cameras, the others held microphones of one kind or another and were milling about, taking notes, or delivering speeches to a camera.
The reporters eyed Kate’s hatchback like a school of hungry piranhas as she passed them, no doubt looking for their next victim to rip to shreds.
She hadn’t had much direct experience with the press, having been rank and file for the most part, but she guessed that now she was part of a partnership leading an investigation, it was probably kind of inevitable that she’d run into the press more often.
She hadn’t felt nervous coming into work today like she had yesterday, the apprehensiveness of the new posting having long since passed. Seeing these reporters though, brought it crashing back onto her shoulders as she tried to mentally prepare herself for the walk into the building.
A couple of deep breaths later, she climbed out of her vehicle and locked it, turning to face the building, only to find a couple of the reporters already approaching her.
“Miss, are you a detective here?”
“Can we ask you a few questions about the death of Jordan Donaldson?”
Fixing her gaze at a point on the ground a short distance ahead of her, Kate strode towards the building, ignoring their questions.
“What can you tell us about Mr Donaldson’s death, Detective?”
“Are the reports of occult influences accurate?”
She pressed on, walking through the small crowd, approaching the doors and the relief of escape from their questions.
“Do you have any suspects?”
“Is this killing linked to the disappearance of Mark Summers?”
This last question caught her a little off guard, and she glanced back at the man who asked it as she pushed open the door to the building. An intense looking man with slicked-back blonde hair fixed her with his steely gaze. He was quite striking in appearance. Kate recognised him from TV and knew his reputation, without having to read the press badge that hung around his neck.
Chester Longstaff. A man who she’d heard a few officers talk about in a range of tones. Some spoke highly of him, but most disliked him intensely. He was, according to many, a weaselly little slimeball who always knew entirely too much and wasn’t against any tactic to get the story he wanted.
Chester noticed her look, and she caught the slightest smarmy grin on his face before she was through and free of them.
She made her way up to the Murder Team’s incident room, and while she wasn’t the first in for their shift, she wasn’t the last either.
Nathan, however, had beaten her in and was already at his desk, working on his computer.
“Morning,” Kate said as she approached their little corner of the room where she noticed a free-standing whiteboard had been set up with photos and notes about the case stuck to it. “Did you go home last night?”
“Briefly,” he replied.
“You’ve been busy, I see.”
“I’ve not got anything better to do really, so why not? There’s always paperwork that needs filling, and investigators that need directing. I’ve got some uniforms doing some door to door and looking into the Estate Agents, just in case it flags anything up.”
“You should have said, I would have been in earlier, and maybe missed the guys outside.”
Nathan smiled. “Survived them, did you?”
“Got nipped a couple of times, but I made it through.”
“Heh. Well, some of them were here when I arrived, but I imagine it’s worse now.”
“It’s pretty bad, yeah.”
“Hmmm, might see if we can take the back way out.”
“Good idea. So, how do they know about this?” Kate asked.
“Our media office put out a brief statement yesterday, but it’s likely someone probably leaked a few extra details to them.”
“Money talks,” Kate said with a shrug. She’d yet to be approached by the press asking for information in exchange for money, but she knew it happened. Given the pay that a police officer—even a detective—got, she wasn’t surprised that some supplemented that income with pay-outs from the press.
Still, she wondered about the conscience and morals of the officers that did that kind of thing.
“We’ve had reports of them at Joanna Donaldson’s house as well, so we put an officer outside to keep them at bay,” Nathan stated.
“Good plan,” Kate replied as she settled into her seat. She looked up at the board and the happy smiling photo of Jordan Donaldson they had pulled from somewhere online. It contrasted starkly against the shots of the crime scene next to it and his strung up corpse. Kate sucked in a breath of air-conditioned oxygen, pulled a sticky note from the pad on her desk, and stuck it over the image of Jordan’s body.
No need to show it off to the whole office.
“Sleep well?” Nathan asked her as she retook her seat.
“Fine, all things considered,” she answered as she noticed DS Claire Watson walking over.
“Good morning. How are you?” Claire asked her.
Kate smiled back, warmly. “Hi. Yeah, good thanks. You?”
“Yeah, great. Just to let you know, there are cakes in the break room. Help yourself.”
“Oooh, excellent. Thank you,” Kate replied as she noticed Claire glance over at Nathan with a wary expression on her face.
“Nathan,” she muttered in g
reeting.
“DS Watson,” Nathan replied with a nod, and little in the way of good humour.
Kate watched the small interaction with interest, remembering her conversation with Claire and Sam in the break room, and got the feeling that Claire didn’t usually come over to tell Nathan about what she’d been baking or to offer him any.
Claire smiled back at Kate, her expression immediately warmer and bid her good day as she stepped away. Kate smiled to herself, pleased that she had initiated some kind of contact between Nathan and the rest of the office. She made a mental note to make sure she had one of Claire’s cakes, and make sure Claire saw her have it. She wanted to encourage that kind of friendly contact.
Kate logged into her PC and started to review the updates on the case and the actions the HOLMES system was suggesting.
“Going to keep me informed today, are you?” said a male voice from nearby.
Kate turned to see DI Mason stood a short distance from their two desks.
“Of course,” Nathan replied to him.
Mason nodded and looked over their desks, and then at the Big Board. “Can’t say I approve of this being out in the office.”
“Assign us an incident room and we’ll move it,” Nathan answered.
“Do you think this team is made of money?” Mason replied. “We might be in a shiny new building, but we only have a few rooms available. You know how the budget is.”
“Then this area here is our MIR, and we need a crazy wall,” Nathan said, nodding to the whiteboard.
“Crazy’s right,” DI Mason replied, the insinuation clear in his voice as he looked at Nathan.
Kate sighed. “Alright boys, stop waving your cocks about, comparing sizes.”
Sam looked over at her, a little shocked by her words.
“We’ll keep you informed DI Mason, you have my word,” Kate assured him.
Sam Mason’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. “Alright, let’s see how this goes. I’m watching you,” he finished, looking at Nathan before turning and swanning off back to his desk.
Nathan gave a mocking salute as he walked away and then relaxed into his chair. “Ballsy,” he said, and then looked back at her with a wicked grin. “I like it.”
