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

by Andrea Bramhall

  “Your dad giving you that gun and leaving you alone was a very, very bad thing. So bad that Kate and her boss will have to make sure that he can never see you on his own again because he can’t be trusted to look after you properly. Do you understand?”

  Sammy shook her head. “His dad let him shoot guns when he was my age.”

  “That doesn’t mean it’s the right thing to do. You could have killed someone. You could have killed yourself. He can’t be trusted to look after you.” Gina pulled into a lay-by and tugged the sobbing child into her arms. “It’s so bad that I’m scared they might not think I can look after you either. That’s why I didn’t tell Kate what you saw. Because I’m scared they will take you away from me.”

  “I don’t want to go away.”

  “I know, sweetheart, I don’t want that either. That’s why I’m so scared.”

  “I’ll be good, Mum, I promise. Please, don’t let them take me away.”

  She squeezed tighter and kissed the top of her head over and over. “Not if I can do anything about it.”

  “I’ll be good, I promise.”

  Gina laughed and knew the little scamp would try dearly, but she equally knew she’d fail. Sammy was a magnet for trouble. Always had been. If there was one child you could guarantee to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, it was her. She may have only been doing the same as every other child, but you could bet your life that she was the one who’d get caught.

  “We’ll see, sweetheart.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Pebbles Cottage was definitely an apt name for it. The entire outer render was made of the local flint pebbles. Most of the local houses had a small amount of it between decorative brick columns, but Pebbles Cottage was entirely covered with pebbles of all different shapes and sizes. It was set in the middle of a small housing estate, little more than two hundred yards from the campsite and less than a hundred from the Coastal Path. The harbour was half a mile to the west.

  There was a short drive that led to a carport with corrugated plastic roofing and thick telegraph poles sunk into the ground. The car was a three-year-old Mitsubishi Barbarian, bearing the licence plate number MK52 UXB. The hard-covered load bed of the pickup was empty, save for some dead pine needles, off an old Christmas tree, no doubt. The back seat was also empty and the car had recently been professionally cleaned. The closest place where that could have happened was ten miles away in Hunstanton. Not something done on a whim for a guy who lives within a five-minute walk of where he works.

  She sat in the passenger seat, Tom was in the driver’s side fiddling with stuff on the dashboard.

  “Want to know something interesting about the Barbarian?” Tom asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “They’ve got built-in satellite navigation.”

  “And that’s good because?”

  “It also tracks where he’s been.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.” He touched the screen and brought up a log book of sorts. “This was where the car was at six forty on the twenty-ninth.” He pointed to a spot on the map close to a large river and some sort of bridge.

  “And where is that?”

  “On the outskirts of a town called Sutton Bridge.”

  “And what’s there?”

  “At Sutton Bridge?”

  “Yeah.”

  He shrugged. “Big power plant, not far away.”

  “And?”

  “Houses, countryside. Normal stuff for round here.”

  “So it gets us nothing.”

  “Well, Sarge, it corroborates what he was saying about not being the doer.”

  “Just because his car wasn’t here, doesn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t.”

  “Grasping at straws.”

  “Maybe, but we’d better be damn sure because he sure as shit is hiding something or he’d just tell us where he was and who he was meeting to give us his alibi.”

  “True.”

  She got out and went into the house. A laptop and tablet were being bagged. A rifle, two other firearms, and an assortment of ammunition were already packed and in a box, waiting to be carried away for forensic testing. The house was much tidier than she’d expected a bachelor pad to be. It was tidier than her own place. There was no clutter at all, no dirty dishes on the coffee table, no magazines strewn about. Just one mug was on the side, the TV remote was on the TV stand, and, while worn and threadbare, the sofa was clean and serviceable. There were photos all over the walls. Pictures of Sammy and Matt. Not one of them was in a frame, just printouts that were stuck to the wall with Blu-Tack in each corner. But every one showed him in some stupid pose with her—pulling faces at each other, Sammy grinning at the camera while he watched. It was clear that he loved her. Adored her. Shame he hadn’t thought of that when he put her in danger. She shook her head and continued to look around.

  The same clean and tidy theme was continued throughout the house. One bowl and one spoon sat on the drainer to go with the single mug in the front room. The fridge held nothing but a half pint of milk, a pat of butter, and a beer can with the plastic around the rim, indicating it was the remaining survivor of a four-pack. Microwave meals packed the shelves of the freezer compartment. The remaining half of a loaf of bread, two tins of beans, a box of Coco Pops, a jar of coffee, and a boil-in-the-bag rice packet sat in another cupboard. More than she had sitting at home. She had more dog food than human food in her own cupboards.

  In the master bedroom, the bed was made and clothes hung neatly in the wardrobe or were folded tidily in drawers. Everything in its place. The second bedroom resembled a bomb site and she knew it had to be Sammy’s. The third room was appointed as an office of sorts. Computer, printer, etc. Again, organised, clean, and tidy. The SOCO team were carefully bagging the contents for removal and analysis, and she didn’t want to get in the way. She turned to leave and spotted a map stuck on the back of the door. It was a huge map of East Anglia with circles in seemingly random locations. But then she spotted one just to the left of Sutton Bridge.

  She tapped the nearest chap on the shoulder. “You got a bag for this?”

  He quickly removed it and sealed it in an evidence bag before handing it to her. She took it out to the car.

  “Tom, bring up the log from where he was,” she said when she’d reached the car again. She held out the map as he did so and she pointed to the circled location. “It’s the same.” She got in and stabbed her finger at the arrowhead marking a spot near the river. She touched the screen without meaning to and the image changed. Instead of the map, she was faced with a series of numbers: 52.764, -0.192.

  “Shit, don’t touch it. We don’t want to delete anything.” Tom reached towards the screen. She grabbed his hand to stop him from changing anything, and pointed instead.

  “I’m an idiot,” she said. “Look.”

  “What am I look…fuck. You are an idiot.”

  She slapped him across the arm with the back of her hand. “You are too.”

  “We’re all idiots,” he said.

  She pulled her phone out of her pocket and dialled. “Stella, we know what the numbers are that start with fifty-two.”

  “What?”

  “GPS coordinates.”

  “You’re shitting me?”

  “Wish I was. I’ve got a map with about a dozen locations circled. I’m betting that each one of them is going to link up with one on that list.”

  “You’re a friggin’ genius.”

  “Hold off on the praise. If he was in the car, he was at one of these locations on the twenty-ninth. He couldn’t have been the shooter.”

  “It gets worse on that score.”

  “How?”

  “Wild called. He’s been doing more research on the round and this weapon, now that he has something to start with.”

  “And?”

  “There is no way on God’s green earth that gun and that round could have made a killing shot at a distance of more than eight hundred metres.”<
br />
  “Shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So what kind of gun do we need to be looking for?”

  “Here’s the real kicker, kiddo. That bullet in any gun it fits, has a maximum range of eight hundred metres. There is no way, without changing the laws of physics, that the bullet that killed her could have been fired from either of the positions identified.”

  “So, what’s Wild saying? He made a mistake with the bullet?”

  “Not possible. He said there’s a database for that kind of thing and the molecular structure of the fragments were definitely from that bullet.”

  “Could he have been wrong about the shot coming from the houses?”

  “He says no. Said he’s run the scenarios a dozen times now. For her body to have landed where it was, she had to have been looking out due west. Not west by southwest or anything else. Due west. The shot could have only come from the houses if she’d been facing south by southwest. A difference of more than thirty degrees, he assures me. So I’m taking his word for it.”

  “So there must have been a bit of land closer?”

  “Not according to your map.”

  “Stella, something along the way is wrong. If the bullet is right, the direction is right, then the map can’t be. We’re missing something.”

  “I know, but what?”

  Kate sighed. “Don’t know. Listen we’ll bring this map back and see what we can match up.”

  “I’ve been running the coordinates on Wells’ list through Google Maps and I’ve got locations on each of them.”

  “Okay. We’ll be there soon.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Gina held a mug under the tap and rinsed the soap away. She heard a knock at the door and Merlin started to bark. She glanced at the clock. It was well after midnight. She dried her hands and looked through the peephole before opening the door.

  “I’d just about given up on you.”

  “I’m sorry it’s so late. It’s been a busy day,” Kate said. “I’ll just get her and go. Sorry if I kept you up.”

  Gina shook her head and grabbed Kate’s hand to tug her inside. “Don’t be silly. I just thought it might—” she waved her hand. “Never mind. Did he do it?”

  “I can’t talk about the case with you.”

  “Of course not, I’m being daft. Can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Glass of wine?”

  “Thank you, but I’ll just get Merlin and go.” She looked around, clearly looking for Merlin’s lead.

  “Kate, please let me explain.”

  “You don’t need to. I understand what you were trying to do. I don’t blame you for trying to protect your daughter when you thought it was an accident.”

  “And do you understand why I still didn’t say anything when I realised she hadn’t?”

  Kate looked at her for a long moment then shook her head. “I—I mean—we—the police—could have made sure he didn’t put her in danger again. We are doing that. I don’t understand why you don’t want that. Surely you can see he’s a danger to her?”

  “Of course I can. I’d already told him he wasn’t going to see her anymore.”

  “Then why?”

  “Have you informed Social Services yet?”

  “Of course. We have to let them know that she’s at risk with him.”

  “And me?” Gina felt the tears welling in her eyes. It was too late now, nothing she could do.

  “What? Why would they…oh. I see. You’re worried that because he was stupid while she was in his care you’ll be, what? Tarred with the same brush?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think they’re going to take her away from you?”

  “Yes.” The tears coursed down her cheeks and she swiped them away. “I’m sorry but she’s all I have. She’s my daughter.” She buried her face in her hands and let the tears fall. She leaned into the wall and didn’t even try to stop them. A moment later she was pulled into a strong embrace. Soft hands curled around her shoulders, gentle fingers caressed the back of her head, and Kate’s low voice in her ear whispered soothing words as she cried out all her fear and frustration.

  “They won’t take her away from you.”

  “What? How do you know?”

  “I had to write a statement this evening. It’s one of the many reasons I’m so late.”

  Gina wrapped her arms around Kate’s waist and clung on. “Please tell me.”

  Kate sighed. “They’ll want to talk to you, probably tomorrow when they get the statement through. And Sammy too, of course.”

  “Okay. Then what will happen.”

  “They’ll talk to Matt when we let them, but we’re charging him with reckless endangerment of a child. He hasn’t denied giving her the gun, or leaving her alone to wield it, so the case is pretty clear. He’ll be convicted of that and in the future he’ll only ever be granted supervised visitation. As you assisted the police, and were taking steps to ensure her safety the moment you discovered what happened, you’ll be fine. They may want to do a couple of home visits or something, just to make sure everything’s really okay, but they won’t take her away from you. They’ve got enough kids out there with bigger problems than this.”

  She felt the crushing weight lifted from her and took her first free breath in days. She gulped in one lungful after another, shuddering and swaying as each breath rejuvenated her. She leaned heavily against Kate, her hands gripping her tighter. The rush of oxygen around her body brought with it the awareness of sensations she hadn’t felt in far too long. Everywhere her body touched Kate’s, she tingled. Her arms were awash with the feel of Kate’s coat, and beneath it the skin that she was sure was soft and velvety. She turned her head and caught the scent of Kate’s neck. The scent was warm, like cinnamon, vanilla, and chocolate with a citrus aroma that mingled from her hair. Like a chocolate orange. She wanted to move her hair to one side and taste that scent on her tongue. To breathe it in, breathe her in, and let it wash over her, fill her up.

  “And what about you?” Gina said, her voice scratchy and raw.

  “What about me?”

  “Can you forgive me?”

  Kate shrugged and pulled away. “Like I said earlier, I understand.”

  “But?”

  “But nothing, Miss Temple—”

  “What happened to ‘Gina’?”

  Kate spotted Merlin’s lead hung up on the coat rack and picked it up. Merlin came at the sound of the clasp being flicked. “I trusted Gina.” She clipped the lead to her collar and pulled the door open. “Thanks for looking after her. Good night, Miss Temple.”

  The soft words, the frosty politeness, and the withdrawal of the friendliness that had been growing between them—it couldn’t have hurt more if Kate had slapped her.

  CHAPTER 23

  Kate parked in the car park of the sailing club, despite the warnings that non-members’ vehicles would be towed. Better to be towed than write off another car. It was eight o’clock in the morning and the tide was out, but she’d learned already that it paid to be careful around here.

  She opened the door and Merlin followed her out of the driver’s door, offering her a doggy grin when Kate unclipped her lead to let her wander wherever she wanted and sniff to her heart’s content. Kate looked around her. The sun had not long since risen and the muted colours of the marsh were cast in shadows, making the greens murky and drab, and the mud look grey. The vast plain would soon be under water. Not as much water today as on the twenty-ninth, but enough. Every plant that grew was adapted to growing in the salt water of the ocean. Every creature that lived on it had a way of going with the flow. Home was different from one tide to the next, with nothing more permanent than a few hours.

  The husks of forgotten and damaged boats littered the heather and samphire-strewn landscape, offering a speck of variety against a backdrop of flat sameness. In the distance, she could just make out what was left of the houseboat. They were still waiting to see who it had actually belonged to. Perhaps today, they’d
get that information and it would lead to a breakthrough.

  She watched as the first trickle of the tide started to slink into the channel. A flutter of wind rippled the steel cables and set them rattling against masts all along the harbour. It was pretty, in a desolate, barren kind of way. She could see the appeal. The seemingly endless sky made her feel small, insignificant, and it helped her put things into perspective. Her mind drifted from the endless sky to the sky blue eyes that had tormented her last night. Blue eyes and long dark hair that smelled of coconut. Shampoo she presumed, or maybe it was body lotion on her skin rather than in her hair. Oh for God’s sake, stop it. It’s never going to happen. There had been something in Gina that had appealed to her on a level that made her want—no, need—to keep going back. Gina eased the loneliness that always lingered, and sometimes overwhelmed her. She seemed to fit into the space that Kate couldn’t fill, no matter how hard she worked, or how fast she ran. It was ridiculous to think that. She knew it was. She’d only met Gina four days ago, and circumstances had been less than ideal. But somehow Kate knew that there could have been something wonderful between them. Could have been. Three words that only made her feel lonelier than ever. Had she been too hard on her? She really did understand Gina’s reason for doing what she did. Love.“What do you think, Merlin?” she asked. The dog pricked up her ears and came to Kate’s side. “Was I too hard on her? Should I go and say sorry, see if she’d have coffee with me?”

  Merlin tipped her head to the side, whined, then yipped a short bark.

  “Simple as that, hey girl?” She stroked her head. “Maybe you’re right.” She sighed. “Maybe I will. Other people find happiness, why shouldn’t I?”

  Could it really be as simple as that? Just like turning on or off a light switch? Could she really just shift her thinking from expecting to be unhappy, expecting to be lonely, to something else? Just a little twist in perception, right?

  She took a seat on the bench between the sailing club launch and the harbour proper, squirming when the hard wood pressed uncomfortably against the stitches in the back of her thigh. She didn’t sit because she was tired or it was a long way. It wasn’t. No more than fifty yards. She just wanted to watch. To stare at it all. To see if any spit of land jumped out as being a possible position for the sniper. Nothing did. The only things she could make out were the two spots they’d seen before. The ones that were too far away for the bullet to have been shot from.