With Deadly Intent

by KA Richardson

  She watched, fascinated, as they changed to a darker shade of grey and smouldered with sudden desire.

  Her lips parted slightly, and she felt her breath grow shallow. What on earth was going on?

  Alex broke the stare by stepping back from her with a small cough.

  Momentarily confused, she blinked at him.

  ‘You OK, Cass?’ he asked, his voice a little gruff.

  ‘Yeah, sorry. I … I was just making coffee. Want one?’

  He nodded and stood back to allow her into the main office.

  Alex stood for a second in the corridor wondering what had happened. He felt like he’d been hit by a freight train. For the first time since Helen, he had almost kissed a woman. He wondered if Cass knew. He thought he spotted a reaction, but he wasn’t sure, and it had made him step back in confusion. The fact she’d rushed past him to make the coffee, led him to believe she was upset. Realising he had to make it right, he followed her into the office.

  ‘Cass, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what happened. I’ll not bother you any more except in a work capacity. I’ve behaved in a manner that’s … untoward.’

  Incredulous and mortified, Cass turned to look at him.

  ‘Untoward? Which part? The part where I pour my heart out and tell you about Jameson and then you don’t speak with me for days, or the part where you completely blank me today at the scene? Or possibly the part where you just looked at me like you wanted to kiss me, then pulled back in revulsion?’

  She realised her voice had turned high-pitched, and her cheeks had flushed a deep red. ‘I know what Jameson did has … damaged me. But I didn’t think I was that repulsive.’

  She caught the sob before it escaped, breathing deeply to try to push the emotion back as Alex just stood there in shock.

  ‘Cass, what the hell are you on about? I didn’t blank you at the scene and I was most definitely not repulsed. I thought I’d gone too far. That’s why I stepped back – we’re at work and I was bang out of order.’

  He strode down the office in three large steps, put his fingers under Cass’s chin and shook his head.

  ‘You are not repulsive. Jameson has not damaged you. He is a complete prick who I would gladly wring the neck of if he ever comes near you again.’

  A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes as she said, ‘You’re the second person to say that to me. Mum said it too.’

  ‘Then your mum gets more kudos from me,’ said Alex softly.

  His thumb brushed across Cass’s cheek. She hiccupped quietly, and he was lost. His head moved closer; her breath warm against his lips as her eyes shone brightly. He was so close he could almost hear her heartbeat. Their lips were close to touching when footsteps suddenly sounded in the corridor.

  ‘Cass, you in?’ said Greg’s voice loudly.

  Cass coughed, stepping away from Alex and back into the kitchen.

  ‘In here, Greg. Just making a cuppa. You want one?’

  ‘Yes please. Am bloody knackered. Whacked off ten jobs like. Has owt else come in that can’t wait until tomorrow?’ asked Greg as he dumped a bag of exhibits on the desk, along with his work file.

  ‘No, log’s clear, Greg. If you get them put through Socard and I’ll sort the mail for tomorrow. Just leave what you need sending on your desk. I’m in the middle of it anyway.’

  Greg looked up and realised Alex was there too, ‘Oh hey, boss. Didn’t see you there.’ Redirecting his attention to Cass, he added, ‘So what’s going on with the murder?’

  ‘Various samples recovered, should hopefully be something there. Will you be OK to attend the PM tomorrow with me and Sue? I need to pop over to the city depot and speak with the staff in the morning, then I’ll be attending the forensic strategy meeting with Alex once the PM’s done. It’s scheduled to start at 10 a.m. at the Sunderland Royal.’

  ‘Yeah sure, boss,’ said Greg, popping his ID card into the computer and opening Socard as Cass placed his tea in front of him.

  ‘Strong and black, just how you like it.’

  Greg showed his thanks by taking a huge slurp, and Cass turned to get the other two cups but Alex had beaten her to it and was walking towards her.

  As they entered her office, Cass shut the door behind them.

  ‘Almost feel as if I’m in the headmaster’s office now,’ joked Alex as he set the mugs down on the table.

  Cass stayed quiet as he turned to look at her. Deciding on honesty, he said, ‘I haven’t done this in a long time, Cass. I like you. I think you like me, but I’m out of my depth. I don’t know how to deal with this.’

  Blinking, Cass nodded her agreement.

  ‘There hasn’t been anyone since Carl. I never have people to my cottage so you’re already closer than most people have ever been. I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling, Alex. I’m petrified of starting anything with anyone and I’m crap at dealing with emotion. But I do like you too.’

  She drew in a shaky breath – it was hard for her to talk to anyone about how she was feeling. It was like he had stripped the parts of her that were linked to emotion, leaving nothing but an empty shell. Only now something burnt inside the shell, a glimmer of hope that maybe she’d be able to move on.

  ‘So … we take it slow? Start as friends maybe? And if this leads to anything then fair enough, if not we both gain a friend? As clichéd as that sounds?’

  ‘OK,’ said Cass thoughtfully, nodding at the same time. Deciding to change the subject she added, ‘So are you attending the PM tomorrow?’

  ‘Yeah I will be. Ten o’clock you said, right? You gonna be here much longer tonight?’

  ‘No, I’ve gotta hand over the exhibits in a bit, and prepare the murder box. I’ll be away soon enough – Ollie needs his walk.’

  ‘How is Ollie? All recovered I trust?’ Alex heard the false polite tone and cringed inside. He really was bad at this.

  ‘Yeah, good as gold. Matt’s checking him over again tomorrow night. But he seems a lot better. No other seizures which is good.’

  ‘OK great. Well I’ll let you get on. I’ll see you at the Royal tomorrow.’

  Cass sighed as he walked out of her office. She still had no clue what was going on. Taking a long gulp of her coffee, she started compiling the file.

  Pallion, Sunderland

  He was sitting on the sofa in the living room when his mind suddenly wandered back to that day.

  That particular day in June 1980.

  He remembered hoping his mother hadn’t seen him watching, and he had known it would mean the beating of his life if she had.

  Strangely though, he wasn’t scared. He just hid in his room, right beside the bed, thinking about what he had seen.

  The look of utter surprise on his father’s face as his mother had dropped the radio into the water had rapidly changed to one of horror as his body had convulsed with the current running through the water and into his veins. Now, he couldn’t help but see his father’s face, twisted in a grimace with his eyes bulging as he twitched.

  And then the twitching had stopped – and his father’s eyes had vacantly stared right at him.

  Back then he hadn’t quite understood the things he had felt. To him, it was kind of like the time he had killed the dog in the garden, the satisfaction he’d felt as its life force had left the limp body, the pleasure he had felt inflicting pain on another living thing. It was almost the same feeling, but not quite.

  He supposed he should have felt sad, shocked and maybe a little afraid; most children would be. But then, he hadn’t been most children. He’d always known that.

  Still, he had hoped she hadn’t seen him watching. He still had the yellowing bruises from the last time. If she beat him again, it would be bruises on bruises, and that always hurt a little more.

  He had listened to her footsteps as she walked down the landing and sighed as she’d stopped outside of his door. There was no point putting off the inevitable, so he’d stood as she’d strode inside.

  Any
flicker of emotion had drained from his eyes as she silently bent him over the bed, pulled the cane-handled feather duster from her waistband, and raised her hand, counting the time with each stroke.

  He hadn’t yelled or cried; he’d learnt years before that crying out just made it last longer. He had become adept at staying silent, travelling to the place in his mind where he wasn’t there, and it didn’t hurt as much.

  When she was done, she’d turned him around, pulled him into her bony, flat chest, and whispered, ‘You’re such a good boy. Mummy knows you will never tell. You’re cleansed now, no more sins. The vicar will be very pleased on Sunday. My good boy.’

  He had barely heard the words, staring past her towards the bathroom instead. And he had wondered if it hurt to be electrocuted, and how he could find out for sure.

  As his mind drifted back from the past, a soft smile curled his lips as a plan began to form. He knew exactly what kill method he would use this time. It was effective, easy to plan, and he had experience with it. This would be the best show yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sunderland Royal Hospital Mortuary – 12 October

  ‘Hey, Nigel,’ said Cass, clattering her way into the mortuary with Greg and Sue trailing behind.

  ‘Everything but the kitchen sink as usual, Cass?’ asked Nigel, taking in the two boxes being carried.

  ‘Yeah the mortuary boxes needed restocking. Figured since we were here, we might as well get it all done. Is Alex here yet?’

  Sue and Greg made their way through to the back of the building, leaving Cass with Nigel.

  ‘No. He rang to say he’s been held up in a briefing with the Critical Incident Manager. He said to start without him, and he would land shortly. Are you about ready? I’ve a feeling this is gonna be a long one.’

  ‘Yeah I sure am. Let’s get started.’

  Cass followed Nigel into the morgue. She inhaled deeply, knowing how strange she was. She had found comfort in the clean smell of the morgue ever since she started working for the police. It always portrayed a place of calm for her, a sense of peace.

  She left Nigel as he entered the male changing room, and quickly got changed into the sterile white suit, covering her work boots with blue covers. Immediately her temperature rose a couple of notches and for a second she remembered that warm July day last year when, to raise money for charity, she’d done a sponsored day in her crime scene suit. By the end of the afternoon she’d been so warm her hair had looked like an afro, and the suit had stuck to every inch of her exposed skin. She had literally had to peel herself out of it. She grinned to herself in the dim light of the female changing room.

  The morgue itself was set out as usual, Gordon being the ultimate professional. The metal table in the centre sat over the top of the oversized plug hole, the small trolley holding various tools was standing beside the body and Nigel stood next to it pulling his gloves on with a snap.

  The only thing that looked out of place was the second trolley carrying the mangled body of the dog. Cass stared for a moment and stopped herself getting upset as she thought about everything the scraggly dog had represented to the old man.

  ‘Been a while since I’ve seen you,’ said Gordon as he bustled about finishing his prep.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve been tied up in the office unfortunately,’ said Cass, pulling her mind from the dog and onto the rest of the post-mortem.

  ‘OK, I’m going to begin,’ said Nigel softly, his strong finger pressing the record button on his recorder.

  ‘Victim is a white male, approximately 60-65 years of age. Presents as somewhat dishevelled, with clothing dirty and well worn. Grey, neck length hair and a thick, unkempt beard. Hands show visible defensive wounds with evidence of four obvious breakages to the right digits and…’

  At the end of the five-hour examination, Nigel glanced around the morgue before making a decision.

  ‘Before we progress to the examination of the dog, I suggest we take a half hour break. Is that OK with everyone?’

  Cass looked at him in surprise, her head taking a moment to comprehend and allow her attention to detail to kick in. Sue looked exhausted, the well-used camera hanging limply round her neck as she helped Greg fill in the multitude of exhibit bags. Greg looked pale, sweat beading his forehead. For all the cool temperature in the morgue, the white suits were as warm as thermal jackets when it came to holding in body heat. Gordon looked a little frayed around the edges.

  ‘A break sounds like a good plan. Don’t know about you guys but I’d kill for a cuppa right about now.’

  She watched as Sue and Greg laid their pens down and left the room.

  ‘Thanks for that, Nigel. I was in the zone. I should’ve noticed how tired they were.’

  ‘It’s OK, Cass, we all get that way. It shouldn’t take too much longer after the break. I’ve got a Forensic Veterinarian on f to walk me through the PM on the dog. Unfortunately, she’s otherwise engaged, or she ‘d have travelled up to perform it herself. I’m not ashamed to admit I’d rather she was here but we work with what we have right? Gordon’s gonna set up the webcam in the morgue for a direct consult.’

  ‘I wondered whether you would be doing the exam, different physiology and all that. Who’s the vet?’

  ‘Sally Goodwyn. She’s always had a penchant for investigating animal crime. I was glad I pulled her name out of the National Crime Faculty hat.’

  ‘Isn’t she the vet who produced the paper on matching canine DNA and paw prints? I read it a while back. We’ll take some samples just in case.’

  ‘Yeah that’s her. Let’s get some coffee. I noticed Alex arrive as we worked. He’s probably waiting in the kitchen.’

  ‘Hey, Cass,’ said Alex, handing her a steaming cup of coffee as she walked into the kitchen. ‘I got here a while ago, but I didn’t want to disturb you guys. Nigel, your Earl Grey is on the side.’

  Nigel nodded his thanks and wandered over to the kettle.

  All too soon the break was over, and the team were back in the exam room. With the webcam set up, the post-mortem of the dog was much quicker than that of his owner. Cass efficiently took plaster casts of the paw impressions after Nigel had finished taking his samples. He and Sally concluded that the dog had been killed prior to the old man, meaning he had been forced to watch his beloved pet slaughtered. She could only imagine what had been going through the old guy’s head as he had watched. Had he tried to save his dog? Had this resulted in more viciousness in the attack? She felt her eyes tear up slightly and had to stop her train of thought. It was hard though, she felt an affinity with the man, couldn’t help but let the emotion show.

  Steadying her voice with a slight cough, she said, ‘You guys OK to take the exhibits back? I’ll book them through Socard if you pop them in my office. Just do your scene notes then get yourselves off home. I need to have a quick chat with Alex, and I’ll see you back there.’

  ‘Yeah no probs,’ said Sue, casting a quick glance of acceptance at Greg who nodded back.

  ‘Give me a sec to get out of my suit before my skin melts off and I’ll grab a lift back with you if that’s OK?’

  She watched as Alex nodded, then rushed off to get changed.

  ‘That was a long one. Twenty-seven blows with the hammer? That’s excessive. It tells us a lot about the offender. He’s motivated, physically fit and more than likely has no disabilities. He appears to be very controlled, however it’s possible he has devolved towards the end and the attack became more frenzied. Obviously, John Doe knew his attacker. I don’t know one homeless person who would show a stranger where he lives, assuming of course that the killer didn’t just find him on the off chance. The killer is also sadistic by nature, forcing the old man to watch as he killed the dog just exudes his power, makes him stronger. The old guy never had a chance. With the limited evidence found at the scene, I would say the killer is forensically aware too,’ said Alex as they settled into the car.

  ‘Yeah I agree,’ she sidled a glance at him, �
�Someone’s been reading psychology books? It’s been a busy month. One murder is bad enough but two in the same month in the same area. Must be a full moon or something,’

  ‘Nah not the books, just stuff I’ve picked up over the years. Am tempted to call in a profiler to be honest, I don’t want this to turn into a trend and violence breeds violence. We’ll see how it goes. And you’re right on the full moon.’

  A comfortable silence fell between them as Alex drove back to the station.

  Ryhope Police Station

  Alex glanced at his mobile as it started vibrating loudly against the desk. He felt the grin spread across his tired face as his brother’s smiling features flashed at him.

  ‘Hey, bro. You OK?’ As Ali’s voice travelled down the line, he felt a sense of calm overtake him, then suddenly realised that something might be wrong.

  Sitting up straight, he said, ‘Hey, Ali, what is it? Is Mary OK?’

  ‘Nothing wrong, bro, I just thought you’d want to know that Mary and the bairn are home. Just took them there from Mum’s. Now she’s out of the hospital your niece looks cute as a button.’

  ‘That’s brill, Ali. Thought they’d keep her in a while yet. Sorry I’ve not rung; we’ve had another murder. A bad one.’

  Alistair of all people knew what it was like. ‘Is there such a thing as a good one? I’ll message you a photo. If you need a sounding board, just ring me, bro. Sometimes clarity is just a phone call away.’

  ‘Thanks. How’s Mum?’

  ‘She’s OK. Misses you as usual. She was chuffed to bits with your visit, hasn’t stopped telling everyone and sundry how you came home. You’ll not leave it so long between visits next time I hope?’

  ‘Definitely not. Listen I’d better crack on, I’m just compiling the statements so they can be loaded onto HOLMES.’

  Alex hung up the phone and sighed deeply, knowing that Alistair had no idea how close he was to his mum really. Alex phoned her nearly every day. When she’d got into financial difficulty after he had moved in with Helen, it was him she’d come to. Alex had paid the mortgage so she could keep their family home as a base for them all. But none of his siblings knew this. With his dad gone, he was the man of the house. He had never had any doubt that it was his responsibility – it had become ingrained into him as he had grown up. He also knew if Ali and the others knew about it, they’d have all got themselves into trouble trying to raise the funds to keep their mum in the family home. It was just one of those things best kept between him and his mum.