Collide-O-Scope (Norfolk Coast Investigation Stories Book 1)

by Andrea Bramhall

  She filled the kettle and put it on to boil, hoping that a cup of tea would thaw the chill from her bones. Leaves rustled outside the kitchen window, drawing her attention to the ivy bushes that covered most of her garden shed, something she’d promised to take off several years ago. Now the wood inside was so rotten she was pretty sure that the ivy was the only thing keeping the shed standing. Her garden was long, but relatively narrow. The old wooden shed stood next to the solid brick utility room that extended off the kitchen, and there was a border of shrubs halfway down the garden. Beyond that was almost wild. It was Sammy’s playground. She smiled at the thought of her unruly nine-year-old daughter. The thought of having to tell her that Connie was dead made her shiver anew.

  Whilst she wouldn’t say that Connie and Sammy had been close, there had always been a weird understanding between them. Connie talked to Sammy like she was an adult, and Sammy had always responded to her with a respect she rarely showed anyone else. Connie was the one person in the village that she knew Sammy truly didn’t want to piss off. It had been amusing to watch them both together. Both wary but curious.

  A shadow crossed the edge of her vision, catching her attention before disappearing. The leaves shook again, but not a breath of wind disturbed the bare branches anywhere else in the garden. What the hell?

  She went to unlock the back door, only to find it already opened. Her heart pounded. She always locked it and kept the keys on a hook under the cupboard next to the sink. More to prevent Sammy having an easy escape than from fear of anything else. She was sure she’d hear if Sammy had to climb on a chair to get the keys in the night. But they were gone, and hanging in the back door.

  What the hell was going on? Connie dead. Her backdoor unlocked. Brandale Staithe was in the middle of a crime wave! She shook her head. She must have forgotten to lock it when she put the bins out or something. Simple as that. Still, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling and pushed on the handle as quietly as she could. She pulled the door open and listened before she put her head around the door jamb.

  More rustling leaves and a scraping sound, like metal rasping against stiff plastic, accompanied a sniffling sound that seemed to be coming from the roof of the lean-to.

  “Goddamn it, you piece of shit bastard thing, it’s all your bastard bloody fault.”

  Gina stepped out of the doorway, hands on her hips as she looked up at the roof. “Samantha Temple, get your scrawny little backside down here right now and tell me why you’re on the roof using language like that!”

  Sammy stared down at her with red-rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and the most perfect “Oh shit” expression on her face that Gina had ever seen. Even better than Sammy’s dad’s when she’d told him she was pregnant.

  “‘S’nuffink, Mum.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve while trying surreptitiously to tuck something under the leaves with the other.

  “Well, since you’re supposed to be in school, you’re swearing like a sailor, and you’re crying—”

  “I’m not crying.”

  “Okay, while you look upset, I think something is going on. So get down here, with whatever you have there, and tell me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Of course you can. I’m your mum, you can tell me anything.”

  “I can’t, Mum.”

  Gina heard a creak and envisioned the ivy-covered building that Sammy was half on top of giving way beneath her. She held her hand up. “Just give me whatever you were trying to hide.” Sammy’s face paled and she shook her head. “If you don’t, I’m going to have to come up there and get it myself. Then the building will collapse on us both and we’ll probably die. Not a good plan. Sammy, sweetheart, what is it?”

  Tears rolled down Sammy’s cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of her elbow. She said something, but Gina couldn’t make it out. She quickly grabbed the ladder from inside the utility and leaned it up against the lean-to, as far from the shed as she could and still be able to reach Sammy.

  When she climbed up, she stayed on the ladder and saw that Sammy was still trying to hide her air rifle. The one her bloody father had given her last Christmas. The child had practically slept with it under her pillow ever since. Gina hated it. Didn’t want it in the house to begin with, but Matt was a farmer and had been brought up with guns and rifles his whole life. He saw no harm in taking a nine-year-old out on the marshes with him to hunt rabbits, rats, and God only knew what else. It’s only an air rifle, he’d said, can’t do any harm to no one. It will when I fire it straight into your bloody testicles, you stupid piece of shit.

  “Sammy, pass it to me.” She held her hand out and smiled reassuringly. Whatever was going on, it was something huge for Sammy to be crying. Her jeans were covered in muck and grime, her coat had a rip down the right arm. Another one, Gina thought. She wiggled her fingers.

  Sammy gingerly handled the gun, making sure she handed the butt to Gina and kept the muzzle pointed away from her body.

  She’s afraid of it. What the hell happened? “Good girl. I’m going to climb down now, and I want you to follow me, okay?”

  Sammy nodded. Gina slung the strap over her shoulder and started down the ladder.

  “And don’t even think about running off, Sammy. We need to talk about this and making me hunt you down will only make it worse.”

  “Yes, Mum.”

  Gina put the rifle on the table and pointed to a chair. Sammy sat down, wiping her eyes, her little face looking resigned to whatever her fate would be. Her feet swung as they didn’t touch the ground.

  “Your dad was supposed to drop you off at school this morning. What happened?” Gina set a cup of tea on the table for herself and a glass of milk for Sammy.

  Sammy frowned, obviously wondering why she was being given sustenance before the firing squad. “We got up early and went on the marsh. Dad was on geese duty and he said I could go with him.”

  “Okay.” Gina knew that Matt often took Sammy along in the early morning, setting the scarers going to keep the geese off the crops was far from the worst thing that Matt had ever done with Sammy.

  “He said I could take that gun and see if I could catch him something for his tea tonight.”

  Gina sighed.

  “So I went on the Coastal Path so I could walk to school afterwards.”

  “With your gun? Surely even your father can’t—”

  “He said he’d meet me at the gate to take it home for me.”

  “And where was he?”

  “Dunno. One of the fields over near Top Wood.”

  In other words, more than two miles away from where Sammy would be shooting. Gina tried to reign in her anger at Matt’s irresponsible attitude. Leaving a nine-year-old unsupervised with a weapon was a recipe for disaster. Christ.

  “So what happened?”

  “I was trying to get a hare. He said one in stew was good. So I was waiting and waiting, but it wouldn’t come close enough for ages. When it did, I got excited and tried to remember everything Dad told me about shootin’, but I was too excited. I closed my eyes when I pulled the trigger and I lost the hare.” She sniffed and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “But Connie was on the path and she fell down when I pulled the trigger. She fell down the embankment and never came back up.” Sammy was sobbing. Her head buried in her hands, elbows resting on the table. “I went to help her. I did. I went right round the path where she was and Merlin was licking her, and whined at me. But her face was gone, Mum.” She looked up with horror-filled eyes. “It was all gone. And I didn’t mean to kill her.”

  Gina swallowed down her revulsion as the image of Connie sans face resolved in her mind. No wonder that detective couldn’t identify Connie from a picture. “Oh, sweetie, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It was, Mum. There was no one else around. No one at all.”

  “But your little gun shoots pellets, sweetheart. It can’t make someone’s face explode.”

  “It’s Dad’s gun.” She pointed to
the rifle on the table. “It’s Dad’s, not mine.”

  Gina looked at it and saw that Sammy was right. It wasn’t the powerless air rifle she’d gotten used to seeing. It was the .22 rifle that Matt hunted with, not the little plastic air gun that he’d given Sammy. Gina had seen what she expected to see rather than what was really in front of her. I’ll fucking kill him. No wonder he was going to meet her to take it home. I’ll wring his scrawny fucking neck and then… Gina took a deep breath. She needed to be calm, she needed to think clearly. Oh, fuck. Sammy killed Connie. She wanted to throw up for the second time that day. Her hands trembled as she pulled Sammy into her arms. She’s nine years old.

  “Then what happened?”

  “I went to the school and hid near the gate to wait for Dad.” A shadow of anger crossed her face.

  “He didn’t turn up?”

  Sammy shook her head. “So I walked home.”

  Jesus. What next? “Sammy, it’s miles.”

  “I know. I went the long way too. I didn’t want to be on the Coastal Path. I didn’t want to go past her again.” Sammy sobbed and Gina pulled her into her arms again.

  “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

  “I didn’t mean to, Mum. I didn’t mean to.”

  “I know.” She kissed the top of Sammy’s head. “It was an accident.”

  “Yeah.”

  “This is why I don’t like guns. You understand that, right?”

  Sammy nodded. “I don’t like ’em no more, neither.”

  “Okay. So no more playing with guns. Ever. Okay?”

  “Promise.” Sammy sniffed and pulled away. She stared up at Gina, her little blue eyes a replica of Gina’s own, so sad, so solemn. “Will I have to go to jail now?”

  “No, sweetie. We’ll explain what happened and the police will know it wasn’t your fault. It was most definitely your dad’s fault.”

  “I shot her, Mum. Not Dad.”

  “Your dad should never have left you alone with any gun, never mind a dangerous one. The authorities will have a field day with this. They’ll stop you from—” Oh fuck. They’d stop Matt from seeing Sammy. He’d been negligent to the point of endangering not only Sammy’s life but other people’s as well. Social Services wouldn’t let him see her, the police would charge him—may be even with manslaughter or unlawful death, or whatever it would be called. But whatever they called it, Connie was dead, and Sammy shot her because Matt was an idiot. And she let Matt see Sammy. She knew he was a pillock, and she still let Sammy stay with him. Would Social Services deem her an unfit mother? Would they take Sammy away from her? It was Gina’s greatest fear. Losing her daughter. If the authorities got involved—and they would, they had to—they’d say she was a bad parent. Her daughter had just shot someone, after all. They would take Sammy away from her. She pulled Sammy back into her arms. She wasn’t going to let that happen. No way. She couldn’t help Connie now. She was already dead, but there was no way she was going to risk losing her daughter for it.

  “Mum, why are you crying?”

  Gina swiped at the moisture on her cheeks, not even realising it was there. “I’m just sad about Connie.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mum. I know she was your friend.”

  “She was. But you’re my daughter. I love you. Now, you have to promise me something else, okay?”

  Sammy nodded.

  “Never, ever, tell anyone what you’ve told me today. Not your friends, not your dad. No one.”

  “Not even Dad?”

  “Especially not your dad.”

  “But what if he asks me about his gun?”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it. If anyone asks why you weren’t at school today, you were at home, being sick. Okay?”

  “But you told me not to tell lies.”

  “I know, sweetie. And you never, ever, tell lies to me. Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “But this one time, you have to tell this fib.”

  “But you said I won’t go to heaven if I tell fibs.”

  “Sammy, this time it’s okay, because I said it is.” Sammy opened her mouth to object again, Gina put a finger over her lips to quiet her. “I’ll take the blame with God.”

  Sammy’s jaw closed so quickly her teeth clicked and she nodded. “Okay. Sick. Puking. Got it.”

  “Good. Now I have to call the school and tell them why you aren’t there, and tell them I forgot to call earlier because of everything that’s happened at work today. Go upstairs and get a shower, put your pj’s on, and bring your clothes down.”

  “But why?”

  “You’re grounded, kiddo. And don’t argue with me. You’ve skipped school, you were up on the roof swearing like a sailor, and shooting a real gun without an adult to supervise. Do I need to go on?”

  Sammy’s head dropped to her chest. “No.”

  “Good, now scoot. I need to tell some more lies and hope I can still get into heaven after all this.”

  Gina watched Sammy walk out of the room with a much lighter step than she’d had earlier. She picked up the phone and called the school, blaming Sammy’s tummy bug and Connie’s death for her late call and letting them know that Sammy wouldn’t be in tomorrow either. Slowly, it was actually starting to sink in. Her daughter, her sweet, mischievous little girl, had accidentally killed her boss, her friend, her confidante. And now she was going to make sure she got away with it.

  And maybe, just maybe, I’ll kill Matt in the process.

  CHAPTER 5

  Kate knocked on the door of the small wood-clad building. It had the appearance of an aged shack but she’d seen the wall-to-ceiling windows on the rear side that overlooked the harbour and out to sea. One bedroomed it may be, but like they say, location, location, location. Kate was pretty sure the property was worth at least half a million pounds. She wondered what Ally the Cat did with her life, besides sleep around and shoot a pellet gun towards the marshes, but she’d not thought to ask before Tom had set off to knock on doors and she and Jimmy stood waiting for this one to open.

  She could hear scuffling sounds inside, but it seemed no one was heading towards the door. Kate knocked again and listened closer. She could hear muffled swearing, a pitiful groaning, and the sound of breaking glass. But still no answer seemed forthcoming, so she knocked again. This time, she shouted through the door too.

  “I’m Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon, and Detective Constable Powers is here with me. I need to talk to you about Connie Wells.”

  “Fuck off.” The voice on the other side of the door was gruff and cracked, like it didn’t belong to a person.

  Kate snorted, cast a quick glance at Jimmy, and knocked again. Harder. “Not going to happen.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” The disconnected voice shouted and the angry sound of furniture scraping across a wooden floor reverberated through the door. The barrier swung away as Kate raised her fist to knock again. Instead, she stood face to face with a very naked, very dishevelled blonde. Her short hair was stuck up at odd angles, and her blue eyes were red rimmed and clearly having trouble focusing as she squinted at the light. The room beyond the door was in darkness. The smell of stale beer, slumber, and morning breath caused Kate to wrinkle her nose slightly as she tried to figure out if it was coming directly from the woman in front of her or farther inside the room.

  “What the fuck does the bitch want now?” the woman asked.

  “Are you Ally or Leah?”

  “Why do you want to fucking know?”

  “I’m Detective Sergeant Kate Brannon. This is Detective Constable Powers,” she said, waving her hand towards Jimmy, “and we’re investigating a murder that occurred on the Coastal Path this morning. Are you Ally or Leah?”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Don’t make me say it again. Ally or Leah?”

  The woman stared at her like she was still trying to understand English. “Leah.”

  “Thank you. Do you think I could come in and you could
put some clothes on while we talk?”

  She moved away from the door, leaving it open in her wake. “What do we need to talk about?”

  “We suspect that the victim was Connie Wells.”

  Leah dropped to the floor like the pins had been pulled from her knees. “What the fuck?”

  Kate mentally shook her head but didn’t speak again. Instead, she peered through the dimly lit room and caught a good look at a small empty wrapper of foil on the coffee table next to a mirror and a rolled up £10 note. Well, at least now Kate knew why no one saw her around the campsite and possibly why Connie wanted rid. It also gave Kate reason to have her taken in for questioning. She looked at Jimmy to make sure he’d spotted it too, and wasn’t just staring at the very naked woman in front of them. He nodded to indicate he’d seen what she had. Kate grabbed what looked to be a sweatshirt off a chair and flung it at Leah. “Put that on and sit on the sofa.”

  “You can’t treat me like that. You’ve just told me my partner’s dead.”

  “Ex, Leah. I’m well aware of the fact that your relationship with Connie was over and that the split was far from amicable.”

  Kate could see the moment the penny dropped and Leah realised that Kate suspected her. Her mouth formed a perfect circle, her eyes widened so much that Kate could see the whites completely surrounding the irises…well, they should have been white. Instead, the bloodshot eyeballs gave her a really freaky appearance.

  “Wait a minute—”

  “Sit there,” Kate said pointing to the sofa, “and start answering my questions.”

  Leah stared at her, clearly weighing up whether or not trying to incapacitate Kate in some way and make a run for it was a feasible option. Kate squared her shoulders and straightened up to her full height. Not so much to ready herself in case of an assault, more to show Leah that she’d be bloody stupid to even try it. Apparently, Leah saw the folly in her assessment and instead hoisted herself gracelessly onto the sofa, sweatshirt draped over her knees where she picked at the lint that covered the fabric. She ran a hand through her hair and then reached across the coffee table for a pack of cigarettes. She paused as she pulled one from the pack, and Kate knew Leah had spotted the wrapper and mirror when she visibly swallowed and her hand began to tremble.