by M A Comley
“Thanks, Patti.”
Lorne and Sean left the house and jumped back in the car.
“That’s going to be so time-consuming, more like an archaeological dig than a crime scene,” Sean suggested, fisting the steering wheel.
“I’d say you were spot on with that assumption. Jesus, Sean, how the fuck are we going to track this bastard down? We have to pull out all the stops on this one, don’t we?”
“It certainly looks that way.”
Their second attempt to park up and enter the station was a successful one. At the top of the stairs, Lorne and Sean temporarily parted ways. “Listen up, people,” she called out as she pushed through the swing doors to the incident room. “We’ve just come back from the Platts’ house. The forensic team have discovered multiple bodies buried in the cellar. We’re not sure how many as yet. Suffice it to say, we need to put everything into finding this monster Platt.”
The team murmured their distaste at what Lorne had shared.
“The chief has gone to have a word with the superintendent to see if he can get us more men on this case. After all, we’ve got a serial killer with a high body count on the loose. Stephen, did you manage to see the driver at the hospital?”
“Yes, ma’am. They roughed him up pretty good. Saying that, it sounds like he was lucky compared to the others who have crossed Platt’s path.”
“Indeed. Could he tell you anything about what happened?”
“In between bouts of coughing up blood, he told me the make of the car—a dark old-type Merc. Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance to make out the registration number.”
“Okay. Well, we have a couple of names to run through the system. Maybe we can match something up. Is the driver going to recover from the attack?”
“In time. Might take a few months of bed rest, the doc said.”
Lorne’s eyes narrowed as she thought about what she wanted to do in retaliation to Platt and his associate. “AJ, get me all you can on Jim Porter or Jim Collins. According to Denis Platt, this man used to frequent the house often and is the most likely candidate to be the one Courtney Platt would turn to in times of trouble.”
“On it right away.” AJ’s fingers danced across his keyboard.
Lorne walked up to the whiteboard and noted down the man’s name, his alias, and the make of the car that had caused the driver to end up in a ditch. Then she debated whether she should ring Denis and Sam, to update them on what the team had discovered at the house, but she quickly reconsidered. Instead, she rang Ms. Murray at social services to give the woman a piece of her mind.
“Yes, Ms. Murray? It’s Acting Detective Inspector Lorne Warner here.”
“Detective, I’m extremely…”
“Busy? Yes, aren’t we all? Let’s get one thing straight from the get-go shall we, Ms. Murray? You will from now on take my calls seriously, or I will do my damnedest to get you fired. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”
The woman gasped. “Really, Inspector! What gives you the right to talk to me in such an aggressive tone?”
“For a start, the checks you’ve been making on the children in the Platts’ care are nothing short of laughable. You should be shot for even placing those vulnerable babies with such bloody monsters.”
“Now wait just a minute. Why on earth are you calling them monsters? What proof do you have that they’re not upstanding citizens in the community?”
“If you let me finish, I’ll tell you!” The rest of the team stared at Lorne. She motioned for them to get on with their work. “Actually, I’m going to send a member of my team over to interview you under caution.”
“What? Why?”
“Because, to be honest, from what I’ve heard today, I have every reason to believe you’re probably in on the scam.” Lorne bit her lip. She realised she’d gone too far, but her buttons had been pushed too many times over the last few days for her to care what the consequences to her actions might be. She had no intention of backing off.
“What the bloody hell are you talking about? I demand to speak to your superior officer. You’re mad woman.”
“Are you telling me you had no idea that the Platts are serial killers?”
“What a bloody absurd question. You’re really expecting me to answer such nonsense? I suggest you speak to my supervisor before you start flinging accusations in my direction, Detective. I’ve never heard such tripe in all my years in the service.”
“Maybe I’ve said too much already. Yes, you better put me on to your supervisor, and I’m warning you, Ms. Murray, don’t even consider leaving town until this case has been solved. I will be sending over a member of my team this afternoon to take down your statement.”
“Do what you wish, Detective. What you have told me is complete news to me. Why the devil you should think I’m involved in this ‘scam,’ as you put it, is far beyond my comprehension. At the moment, I feel sick to my stomach for you thinking such a heinous thing of me.”
Lorne cringed. Maybe her judgement of the woman had been clouded by what Denis had said about her predecessors. “Okay, you better pass me over to your supervisor then.” Lorne was not in the mood to issue an apology to the obnoxious woman just yet.
She heard the phone hit the desk, and she waited. Then someone picked up the phone, and the call was patched through to another extension.
“Hello, Inspector Warner. This is Karen Harborn. I’m the supervisor in charge today. Why are you going around accusing my staff of not fulfilling their duties properly?”
“Hello, Karen. Right, let me say this to begin with, I don’t want to start off on the wrong foot with you here, but I need to get Ms. Murray taken off duty until this case is solved.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have the authority to make such a request. Please give me your reasons?”
Lorne ran through what had happened between her and Murray over the last few days first and then hit the supervisor with the biggie. “It has come to our attention today that the Platts are serial killers. Unless you make a habit of placing foster children in these types of homes, I’m suggesting that you look further into Ms. Murray’s background before letting her continue in her role, as we have a witness who is willing to give us a statement, saying that social services knew and even assisted in the crimes.”
“That’s appalling. How on earth was Ms. Murray to know that the couple were or are serial killers? As for the second point you’ve raised, that will have to be taken up with my superiors.”
“Don’t worry, I will. I have no intention of letting this matter drop, I assure you. Regarding Ms. Murray, one visit from me, and I was able to smell a rat with the couple. How many foster homes in your region are spotless when there are three children in residence?”
“That’s a very illogical question, Inspector. I’m not entirely sure I understand what you’re getting at.”
“Maybe it’s my detective skills coming in to play in this instance then, but I was more than a little confused when I visited the Platts recently and found that there wasn’t a single toy anywhere to be seen in that house, neither downstairs in the lounge nor in the kiddies’ bedrooms. Wouldn’t that strike you as strange, Karen?”
“I suppose if you put it like that, yes. How is that Ms. Murray’s fault, though, Inspector?”
“Well, if anything comes across as being odd on her visits, shouldn’t that be noted down on the couple’s file? To me, it sounds suspiciously like a cover-up.”
“Yes, ordinarily, it is. I’ll look into it. Is there anything else?”
“Yes. I’m requesting that I have access to the Platts’ fostering records.”
“I think you’ll need some form of paperwork before I hand that kind of information over, Inspector, if we’re going to do things by the book.”
Lorne exhaled loudly. “Even though I’ve laid it on the table that we’re
looking at a couple of serial killers here? I can get a warrant, but that is going to take time, Karen.”
“That’s the way it has to be, Inspector. From our point of view, there are no longer children at risk staying with the couple. Our job is done. What are you hoping to find in the files, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Probably nothing, given what the son of the couple told us today about a cover-up, but it is imperative that I know how many children stayed at the residence over the years. I really can’t go into further detail about that side of things right now. I’d hate for something to be leaked to the press while there is an escaped convict on the run. That’ll be Mr. Platt, whom your department has apparently thought very highly of over the years.”
“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Inspector. I’m willing to let that remark slip by, allowing for the stress you are under at the present. Get me your warrant, and I’ll send the files over for your perusal immediately. Good day, Inspector.”
The woman hung up, leaving a seething Lorne taking out her frustration on the chair beside her. “Ugh… some people get right on my tits at times.”
“Lorne, is something wrong?” Superintendent Anne White asked when she walked into the room with an embarrassed Sean standing alongside her.
“Sorry, ma’am. Damn paper-pushers standing in our way, as usual.”
Anne tilted her head. “Who? I’ll have a word. You shouldn’t be caught up in menial tasks like this. You and the chief should be out there, searching for this killer.”
“It’s all right, ma’am. I’ll get AJ to chase up the warrant I need for gaining access to the Platts’ foster files.”
The super nodded. “You think some of the bodies the pathologist has discovered could belong to some of the children in their care?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s a total mess. I’ve heard about so many of these bloody cases lately. Children of all ages being abused by people in authority—the very people who should have their care uppermost in their minds. I never thought in a million years that I’d end up with such a case on my patch. It sickens and saddens me, bloody paedophile rings.”
Anne approached Lorne’s desk and gripped her shoulder. Lowering her voice she said, “Lorne, I completely understand what this is doing to you as a mother. What I need you to do is cast those feelings aside for a while and start thinking as a DI. Turn the disgust into anger and get out there and bring this bastard to justice. You can do it. I have every faith in you.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m trying. I assure you. But where little kids are concerned and I hear that people have abused the system in order to terrorise innocent children… aggghhh! Okay, I’m all better now.”
Anne winked at her. “That’s my girl. Now, I’ve been on the phone to the commissioner and have arranged for the surrounding police forces to pitch in and lend us a hand. It’s imperative that we capture this man ASAP, agreed?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She craned her neck around the super and called out, “AJ? Any news on that vehicle or address yet?”
“Would you believe the system is playing up? I’m trying different ways to get the info, boss. Bear with me.”
“Quick as you can, AJ.”
“What about the son? Has he assisted you at all? Does he know anything about what was going on in that house?” the super asked.
“To be honest, I think he’s suppressed the memories. And who could blame him? I’m going easy on him for the time being. He’s scared shitless that his father is on the run.”
“Does he think he’ll turn up at his house?”
“I think so. Although, I have my doubts. I’ve arranged for a squad car to sit outside the house just in case.”
“As a deterrent. Good idea—”
AJ erupted, “I’ve got it. Porter’s address, I mean.”
“Excuse me, ma’am.” Lorne leapt out of her chair and grabbed the piece of paper AJ was waving excitedly at her.
Lorne gave the super an apologetic look and glanced in Sean’s direction.
“Go!” the super shouted at them. “And don’t return without them, either of them. That’s an order,” she shouted, wagging her finger.
Sean ran ahead of Lorne down the stairs and called over his shoulder, “No pressure there then!”
“She wants him off the streets as much as we do, Sean. I have one regret about this.”
Sean paused and turned to look at her. “What’s that?”
“That I haven’t had my Taser training yet. I’d love to zap the little fucker with fifty thousand volts.”
Sean continued down the stairs two at a time, laughing and shaking his head, which made her laugh, too.
They pulled up at the rundown address, which was situated in the shittiest road in the area. An unsettling feeling squeezed Lorne’s stomach muscles; she suspected they were wasting their time.
“No car of that description around here,” Lorne said.
“No garage, either. Let’s knock on the door anyway.”
“You knock. I’ll scoot around the back just in case.” A few steps into the trash-filled alleyway made Lorne regret her decision. She squeezed past a sodden stained mattress and the ripped easy chair blocking her way. Then she counted the houses to make sure she was heading for the right one. Looking up at the second floor window, she saw no sign of life inside. She eased open the gate, which teetered on one hinge, and covered her nose and mouth with her hand at the unbearable stench that greeted her. Disgusting pigs! No, I take that back. Pigs are far cleaner than this mob.
She placed her other hand up against the kitchen window and reeled back at the state the occupants had left the kitchen in. How long the pile of dishes had been sitting in the sink like that was anybody’s guess. The question was if any of the mess had been freshly made. Lorne scanned the top plates and came to the conclusion that the stains on the green plates were anything but fresh, more than likely a few days old. She doubted the men had visited the address for at least forty-eight hours. After picking her way gingerly back through the debris-filled garden and alley, Lorne found Sean coming away from the front door.
“Nothing. You?” Sean asked.
“Negative. Is it worth asking the neighbours?”
“I doubt it. Seems like an area where people keep their noses to themselves or risk being done over.”
“That’s true enough. What now?” Lorne asked, casting her eyes first one way up the street then the other.
“Jump in. We’ll think about that in the car.”
Sean drove around the area a few times, searching for the suspect’s car, but it proved to be a pointless exercise.
Lorne’s mobile rang. “Hi, AJ. What have you got for us?”
“First, I wanted to tell you that the warrant you requested to obtain the paperwork from social services, will be available later this afternoon.”
“Brilliant news. What else?”
“We’re getting sightings coming in about the car.”
“Where?” Lorne put her thumb up to Sean. He pulled the car over as she continued her conversation with AJ.
“Heading down to Brighton.”
“Shit! We’ll get after it. Patch through the route it’s taking to my mobile when you receive further reports, AJ. Okay?”
“Will do, boss.”
Lorne hung up and mulled things over for a moment.
Sean nudged her with his elbow and put the car in motion again. “What are you thinking?”
Lorne sucked in the air between her teeth. “Whether I should ring Denis or not.”
“Why?”
“If I tell him their location, it might jolt a memory of a place they used to visit in the area during his childhood.”
“Okay. Why the doubt?”
“What if he informs them we’re closing in on them?”
Sean indicated and filtered into th
e traffic on the main road. “Listen, I got the impression that he’s totally shaken up about this. I didn’t pick up any vibes that he shouldn’t be trusted, but if you have doubts about that, then you need to trust your instincts.”
“To be honest with you, Sean, I’ve never been so confused about a person. Logically, I’m thinking the guy is a mess with reason, but then I’m thinking if my parents had abused me like that, would I still be in contact with them today? The answer categorically would be no.”
“I hear you on that, Lorne. I’d feel the same way. However, put yourself in his shoes. Knowing that your mother and father are still fostering kids, wouldn’t you do everything you could to save those kids?”
“Granted. So why hasn’t he dobbed his parents in to the authorities? Or better still, run off with the kids? That would be my first choice.”
Sean nodded as he thought of a response to her dilemma. “But then, to be fair, he has been letting the kids stay with him and Sam. Maybe that was his way of helping them, giving them a few days respite from the abuse.”
“All right, taking that on board, would you be willing to hand those kids back after their stay with you?”
“No. But again, who knows how people’s minds work in such circumstances?”
She sighed wearily. “Decisions, decisions. I need someone to guide me.” Lorne clicked her fingers and rang Carol. “Hi, love. It’s me. How are you feeling?”
“Sometimes good and at other times, not so good. What can I do for you, Lorne?”
“Sorry to hear that. I need your advice. I’m in a quandary what to do for the best, Carol.”
“I’m rusty at the moment. Hang on. Let me see what I can come up with.” Carol started humming, and Lorne imagined her rocking back and forth in her chair as she tapped into her spirit guide. “Sorry, Lorne. I can’t add to what I told you the other day.”
“That’s too bad, hon. I know I don’t usually give you any hints, but we’ve had a call that the car we’re after is on its way to Brighton. Does that help?”
Carol inhaled and exhaled a few times then said vaguely, “A cottage. I can’t tell you any more than that. Sorry, love.”
