DI Lorne Simpkins 09 - Tortured Justice

by M A Comley

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional. It’s just a little off-putting to see her in that state, that’s all. No offence meant.”

  “Well, this state, as you call it, was caused by humans. She didn’t have a lot of say in that. Maybe I should reconsider doing the interview if you can’t bear the thought of being in the same room as her. You look utterly disgusted by her appearance—that is not what I expected at all when I was invited to come here.”

  The man’s chin nearly hit the floor. He looked shocked that someone should speak to him in such a way. However, Lorne wasn’t about to let someone like him look down his nose at either her or an animal she was trying her hardest to save.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just…”

  “Two minutes to air, people.” A man with headphones looped around his neck approached Green and Lorne. He bent down to stroke Onyx. “What an adorable creature. You poor baby. You’re in desperate need of a good home, aren’t you, sweetie? If only I wasn’t out of the house all day, I’d offer to give her a happy home.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your kind words. She’s a very gentle soul in need of a forever home where someone could lavish her with love twenty-four-seven until she regains her trust in mankind.” Lorne glanced up at Mr. Green, who appeared to be seething at the way his colleague was fussing over the stray. “Luckily, Mr. Green, there are still compassionate people left in this world. Let’s hope the interview will help find Onyx a caring individual willing to look past her tortured body.”

  The man with the headset answered for him, “Oh, we’ll certainly do our best. This sweet girl needs to be spoilt, not ill-treated the way she has been. Look at those eyes—she’s too adorable for words. Do your best, Mike. Let’s find this pup a good home tonight.”

  Seconds later, the camera rolled, and they were on air. When the red light glowed on the camera, Mike swung into action, and his behaviour towards the dog changed immediately.

  “I’m here tonight with Lorne Warner, who runs a small rescue centre for abandoned dogs. Unfortunately, she’s brought along a stray that has probably had the hardest life imaginable. Why don’t you tell us Onyx’s story, Lorne?”

  “Well, she was found in Golders Park down by the boating lake, along with her four pups, which someone had tied up in a black bag.”

  “Oh, my goodness, how terrible.” Mr. Green looked genuinely disgusted. Maybe his colleague had had a hand in changing his mind. “So, you took her in. Are you looking for a new home for Onyx?”

  “Not at the moment. She has a condition called demodectic mange, and she’s under the vet’s care for the next month or so. Onyx needs a lot of care and regular baths right now. That wouldn’t be fair to a new owner to take on that kind of responsibility. I have to say that her skin has improved over the last few days, so the signs are good that she’s going to make a full recovery and be available for adoption very soon.”

  “Did the authorities look for the previous owner?”

  “That’s where the general public comes into play. If anybody recognises the dog, they can call the centre and give the owner’s name in the strictest of confidence. The person probably doesn’t even realise he’s committed a criminal act, or maybe he does. Let’s try and work together and get this person arrested on animal cruelty charges that come with either a heavy fine or a prison sentence attached. Those charges are nothing, however, compared to the pain and suffering Onyx has suffered at her owner’s hands. The vet’s bills alone are crippling to a small rescue centre such as ours. Therefore, I’m desperate to get the justice Onyx deserves.”

  “So this condition cannot just appear overnight. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Oh, no. Onyx has been suffering with this condition for months. The thing that worries me is that she’s obviously been with another dog for her to have had babies. The question is, does the male dog live with Onyx’s previous owner, who dumped Onyx and her pups, or was he roaming the streets? Onyx was not a lost dog. Someone put her babies in a bag. Someone out there must know something about this. Please get in touch. I think you have the number, Mike, yes?”

  “I do. We’ll get that up on the screen now. I urge you nice people out there to ring this number with any information you have regarding this cute dog, Onyx. And if anyone is willing to give her and her pups a home in the future, they should also ring the same number.”

  “That’s right.” Lorne opened the carrier at her feet and took out one of the tan puppies, holding it up to the camera. “We’re always on the lookout for kind people to adopt our dogs. We make every effort to ensure our dogs don’t end up back on the streets. If people are okay with that, then I urge them to go ahead and dial the number. These little guys won’t be ready to rehome for at least another two or three weeks, though.”

  “But if anyone is hoping to give another dog a new home, they should also call you. I bet there are other adorable dogs in residence with you who need homes right now.”

  “There are. At the moment, we have ten other dogs searching for forever homes. They come in all shapes and sizes, from Jack Russells to German shepherds and everything in between.”

  “Thanks for coming in today, for making us aware of this issue. I’d like to thank you personally for the great job you and your family are doing to save these animals and the work you do finding them caring homes for the rest of their lives.”

  Lorne smiled, amazed at the turnaround in the man’s compassion. “I appreciate you allowing us to make our plea today. Thank you.”

  The interviewer finished up the session and went to the ad break. He shook Lorne’s hand. “I’m sorry for being so abrupt with you at the beginning. Put it down to nerves. I hope you find the bastard who did this. I truly do.”

  “Thank you. I understand completely. I couldn’t do your job as I suspect you’d have a hard time doing mine.”

  “Didn’t someone say you’re a serving officer in the Met? How do you manage both careers?”

  “I am. My daughter runs the rescue centre alongside my husband. I would be lost without their help. I left the Met a few years ago and set up the business, but I got drawn back in—I missed the force too much. I didn’t want to mention that on air. Was that all right?”

  “Of course. Oh, well, we better get you out of here and back home. Can you manage?”

  “I can. Thanks again. I’ll let the station know what kind of response we get, if that’s okay?”

  “Brilliant, maybe we can do a follow-up interview in a few months. Maybe we could even do a regular slot for you, to help re-home your dogs. I know our sister station in America does something similar with a lot of success.”

  “Sounds fantastic. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  Charlie and Lorne left the studio, each in a buoyant mood.

  “That was fun, eventually. I wish we could turn everyone’s attitude around like that. Let’s hope some good comes from it.”

  “He was a bit of a pr…‌pratt,” Charlie said, correcting the name she was going to call Mr. Green. “Do you think he was just spinning you a line about doing a regular show?”

  “Only time will tell. Let’s head home.”

  • • •

  When they arrived home, Tony’s expression didn’t do a good job of hiding how harassed he was. Running a hand through his greying hair, he said, “The darn phone hasn’t stopped ringing all night. I thought we’d get bombarded with a few calls, but this is just ridiculous.”

  The house phone started ringing.

  “Grr…‌see what I mean? Well, I’ve had enough. You two can handle them from now on. I’m out of here.” He stomped across the kitchen, swept up the car keys Lorne had just placed on the table, and walked out the back door.

  Panicked about their brief conversation before she’d left for the TV station, Lorne raced after him, issuing instructions for Charlie to answer the call and then to put the answerphone on.

  “Tony, please, don’t go.”

  “Don’t try and stop me.
I’ve had enough for one day. I need to get out of here.”

  “I’ll come with you then. We can go for a drink down the pub and have that chat?”

  Tony slumped against the car door and folded his arms. “I don’t mind. What about Charlie and this place?”

  “She’ll be fine, I’ve ensured everywhere is locked up, and I’ve told her to put the answerphone on.”

  “Doh! Why didn’t I think of that? Okay, a drink sounds just what I need.”

  The five-minute journey to the pub was conducted in silence, while Lorne wondered what lay ahead of her.

  Lorne chose a small intimate table in the bay window of the pub while Tony went to order their drinks at the bar. He joined her with a pint of bitter for himself and a vodka and coke for her.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong, love? It’s not like you to go off in a huff like that.” She reached across the table and gathered his hand in hers.

  “I just flipped.”

  She smirked. “I can see that. Why?”

  “The simple answer is, I’ve had enough, Lorne.”

  “Of what? Us?”

  His gaze connected with hers, and his eyes filled with tears. This was totally out of character for him, and the thought of him being about to tell her their marriage was over made her heart skip several beats.

  Her anxiety mounted with every passing second he delayed his answer, prompting her to squeeze his hand. “Tony, be honest with me now. Cards on the table, love.”

  Tony untangled his hand from hers and gulped down half his pint then wiped his mouth. “We’re fine. It’s just me.”

  Lorne flinched. She’d said the very same words to her first husband when she’d finally plucked up the courage to ask for a divorce. She closed her eyes, squeezing back tears. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing Tony, her soul mate. She’d spent half her life searching for him. She couldn’t—and wouldn’t—lose him. She opened her eyes to find him staring at her with his head tilted, looking like an inquisitive owl.

  “What exactly do you mean by that, love?”

  “What it says on the tin, I guess. I need more to life than this.”

  He wasn’t making it easy for her at all. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to end their marriage gently. She bit down hard on her tongue and waited for him to continue.

  “You have your job, Lorne. You’re fulfilled every day of the week. You’re challenged day in day out when you’re trying to solve your cases. What do I have?”

  “Oh, love, we spoke about this before my return to the Met. We did discuss it. Didn’t we?”

  “Yes. I hold my hands up high. I was the one pushing you to return to the force. I admit that. I never dreamed I would feel the way I do after only a few short months.”

  “What are you saying? That you want me to give up my job?”

  “No. Not at all. What I’m trying to say is that I need to feel the same genuine fulfilment you have at the end of the day, or week even. Do you understand that? I need to get myself a job.”

  “Of course I do. But what about your leg?”

  “What about it? The specialist says that the prosthetic leg has finally settled down. And I concur—I no longer feel detached from my own body, if I can phrase it like that-”

  Lorne winced. “I wouldn’t have put it quite like that myself, but, hey, that’s called making progress, isn’t it? It’s the work side of things hampering your fulfilment, not us?”

  He took her hand in both of his and kissed the back of it. “No, it’s not us. There is absolutely nothing wrong with us. In fact, if it’s at all possible, I think I can honestly say that I love you more and more each day. Is that too cliché?”

  “It might be, but I adore hearing it. Phew, what a relief. I thought our marriage was in serious trouble for a minute there. So, it’s the rescue centre that’s getting you down?”

  “Yes, I hate to bring it up, love. However, this was all your dream.”

  “I know.” She lowered her head in shame. “I realise it wasn’t fair to burden you with my business. At the time, we both agreed it would be a good idea. Money was tight. That’s why I went back to the Met and took the demotion, if you like.”

  He placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “I know you sacrificed a lot. You gained a lot, too, like self-esteem.”

  “Oh, Tony, I thought you were happy. This has all come as a shock to me. So, what’s the answer? How do we get your life back on track? Close the centre down. Is that really the answer?”

  “No, I’m not saying that at all. Charlie is more than capable of running that place by herself. I could still do the odd maintenance job when needed. I wouldn’t run out on you totally. I was wondering—you’ll probably laugh at the suggestion—if I could take over your role in the PI business.”

  Lorne collapsed back in her chair. “What? You’d really want to do that? What about the danger?”

  His left eyebrow hitched up, à la Roger Moore. Although when he spoke again, he sounded more like Sean Connery. “You’re talking to an ex-MI6 operative, young lady. Danger is, sorry was, my middle name.”

  Lorne laughed. “Another cliché?”

  “Maybe a tiny one.” He laughed with her. “Do you fancy something to eat?”

  “Yikes, I forgot I hadn’t eaten. I’ll share a bowl of chips with you, unless you want something more?”

  “No, I ate earlier. I’ll order some chips to nibble on.” He rose from the table and bent down to kiss her forehead. “Although, given the opportunity, I’d rather nibble on you.” His comment earned him a swipe on the backside when he walked towards the bar.

  She watched him in awe, thankful that she had avoided a devastating announcement. Thinking back over the months, if she were totally honest about things, she had seen the signs long ago, but she’d been so wrapped up in her cases that she had chosen to ignore things she should have confronted. She narrowed her eyes at him.

  “What’s that look for?” he asked, rejoining her.

  “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

  His hand covered his chest, and he winked at her. “Moi, think you stupid. Never!”

  “I should have realised what would happen the second you got involved in one of my bloody cases. It was that run to France that did it, wasn’t it? Your help getting those ghastly men of Luigi’s back, that’s the real reason behind your change of heart, yes?”

  “You got me. It made me feel worthwhile again, if you can understand what I’m getting at? I didn’t enjoy playing my part in that case just because Luigi and Jade are family. It was to rid the streets of scum like that. I’ve been mulling things over ever since. You can’t hold that against me.”

  “Sweetheart, I totally understand where you’re coming from. Honest, I do. Why don’t we have a sit down chat with Charlie over the weekend?”

  “Sounds great.”

  “She’s going to love running the place on her own. I know someone else who’d relish getting involved, too.”

  His brow furrowed. “Who?”

  “Carol. I think she’s doing less and less psychic work now. She’s always hinting that she would love to help out now and again. This will be her chance to jump on board. We could come to some payment arrangement, I’m sure. In fact, she’ll probably tell us to forget it.”

  “Good call. I think she’d be happy about the opportunity, too.”

  The barman placed a bowl of chips on the table between them.

  “We’ll find out what Charlie thinks about it later. I’m starving. Dig in.”

  Lorne sighed in relief. She much preferred Tony leaving the business to him leaving her. Her life would end if Tony ever walked out on her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lorne breezed into work the next day to find Katy chatting and flirting with AJ at his desk. “Morning, both of you. What a beautiful day it is today.”

  “Get your oats last night, Lorne?” AJ asked cheekily.

  She could do very little about th
e colour rising in her cheeks. “No. Did you?” she retorted, surprising herself, as well as everyone else present. She chuckled, but no one else did. “Anything new regarding the Alder case?”

  “Nope, except…” AJ searched a pile of papers on his desk then held up a scrap of paper. “This caught my eye when I arrived first thing.” He winced at Katy. “Sorry, I forgot to mention it.”

  “Other things on your mind, AJ?” Lorne teased, to her own amusement again.

  With a creased brow, Katy took the paper from his hand. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at, AJ.”

  “Okay, I didn’t at first, either. Look at the address.”

  Katy passed the paper to Lorne. “Killington Industrial estate. Sorry, I’m still at a loss. What about it, AJ?”

  “Thinking outside the box, I’m kind of making a loose connection to the Don Alder case. He was found about a mile away from there, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, he was.” Lorne’s head tilted as she thought. “But then, we’re talking about the London area here, AJ. Just how many crimes do you think happen in a radius of a mile or two every week?”

  “I see your point, but you’re totally missing something here, Lorne. Look at the other details.”

  “Two men reported missing, possibly missing.” She glanced up at him, and something began to tick over in her mind. “I’m seeing a faint connection. You seriously think it’s worth checking up on?”

  Katy answered for him, “What other leads do we have? I can’t spend another day sitting around here, twiddling my thumbs. Can you?”

  Lorne shook her head, thinking she would detest another day like the previous one. “Maybe we should head out there? At least ask some questions? Who knows where it will lead? Like you say, we’ve got nothing better to fill our time at present.”

  “Okay, let’s grab a quick coffee. I’ll deal with any emergency post, and then we’ll head out. How’s that sound?” Katy levered herself off AJ’s desk and crossed the room to her office.