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DEAD SILENT a gripping detective thriller full of suspense

Page 11

by Helen H. Durrant


  “Was there anyone in particular that she talked about before she disappeared — anyone she criticised?”

  “I suppose she wasn’t happy about Patsy — Patsy Lumis. And, yes, they were quite similar really, not just in age and interests, but in the way they looked too. They had a bit of a set-to in the refectory. I remember Madison called Patsy all sorts of names. She never said what it was about though — well not to me anyway.”

  Calladine gave Ruth a nod. “Where can we find Patsy?”

  “At this time of day she’ll be in the library. I’ll take you.”

  The two detectives followed Alice out across the main reception area and into the newly-equipped modern library. It occupied a large area, and had an IT suite off to one side. Alice looked around for a moment, and then gestured towards a girl seated in front of a monitor.

  “‘She’s not here but that’s Anna Morris, Patsy’s friend. She’ll know where she is.”

  “Thanks, Alice. Look — leave the work thing with me and I’ll be in touch soon, okay?”

  Alice nodded and left them to it.

  * * *

  “Anna Morris?” Ruth flashed her warrant card. “I’m DS Bayliss and this is DI Calladine. We’re from Leesworth CID, and we wonder if you’d mind answering a few questions?”

  Anna’s eyes darted from one detective to the other.

  “What’s this about? I haven’t done anything wrong — well not that I know of.”

  “We just want to ask you about your friend Patsy. Is she around?”

  “Well, no. She’s gone off somewhere for a day or two. Is she in trouble?”

  Calladine sat down on the empty seat beside the girl. He had a bad feeling. This was how it started. “When did she go, Anna?”

  “Last night. She has a new boyfriend and she’s gone to stay with him. He’s a little odd if you ask me. He gave her a load of funny instructions to get to his place, down to what train to get and what station to get off at. So she went — packed her stuff and left. I wasn’t happy — I mean she hardly knows him. She can’t have seen him above twice, and now she’s off spending time at his.”

  “Have you met him?”

  “Yes, once — in the pub the other night. That was the first time Patsy’d met him too. They’d been chatting online for ages before he asked to see her. She fell for his chat-up lines big time. She’s such a fool when it comes to men. He turned up dressed to the nines. He bought us some drinks and we swapped a few words, then I left them to it.”

  “What pub was that?” Ruth asked.

  “The one under the railway arch a few yards up the road from here. We always go in there. It’s not much but it’s popular with the students.”

  “Could you describe him, Anna? It’s important. It’s possible that Patsy could be in trouble.”

  “What’s she done?”

  “Nothing. But the man she’s with could be dangerous.”

  “I thought he was creepy that night. It wasn’t anything he said — it’s hard to explain really, it was just a feeling. I told Patsy but she wouldn’t listen. I mean, who goes off with some random man after knowing him less than a week?” Her voice rose to a wail.

  “Can you come back to the station with us? We’ll get our e-fit people to sit with you and see if we can get a reasonable likeness. You can give us all the details you recall about that night too.”

  “Did she have her own laptop?” Calladine chipped in.

  Anna nodded. “It’s in her room. I have a key; I can get it if you want.”

  “Ruth, you go with Anna and I’ll go tell Joanna Johnson what we’re doing. If you come with us now, we’ll have you back by the afternoon.”

  Calladine took his mobile from his coat pocket and rang Imogen. “Have you got a name for the other girl yet?”

  “I can only get a first name, sir. From what he wrote it looks like she was called Patsy. He goes on about how lovely she is, and how easy it would be to go for her instead of Madison.”

  “It looks very likely he’s done just that — not instead of, but as well as. Look, Imogen, can you have one of the e-fit boys standing by? I’m bringing someone in who can give us a description. We’ve found a young woman who’s actually met this creep.”

  “You think he’s taken another one then? Another one of ours?” Joanna Johnson’s eyes became wide with horror when Calladine told her what had happened.

  “Possibly, but we need to investigate further. In the meantime, if Patsy Lumis turns up, let me know straight away. I’ll send another of my team down to speak to Serena Hall’s friends. I don’t have time to see them today because it’s more important that I get back to the station and speak to Anna. Don’t forget what I advised about speaking to your students. By tomorrow it’ll hit the press, so I suggest you get in there first.”

  Chapter 14

  They had an image. Anna Morris had been able to give a reasonable description of the young man she’d met in the pub two nights ago. But they still had no proper name — just ‘Jack.’

  “It’s time to call in the press. We no longer have a choice. You know how I feel about those harpies, but they could help — and right now we need all the help we can get. If we get this image circulated, particularly around Leesworth, it could pay dividends.”

  “You’d better clear it with Jones first.”

  “As long as it doesn’t cost it’ll be fine.”

  “The travel instructions he gave Patsy are weird,” she said, reading through the statement. “Why send her to the other side of the Pennines? Why not just get off the train in Leesdon?”

  “He didn’t want to be seen. There are cameras at Leesdon Station and all down the High Street. He’s clever. He studied his route, so I doubt we’ll get anything, but we’ll go take a look anyway.”

  “It takes about forty-five minutes from Manchester Victoria. I wonder if she spoke to anyone? We could ask — include it in the press briefing; ask for anyone to come forward who might have seen her, or struck up a conversation.”

  Ruth’s idea wasn’t bad. Calladine left the incident room and went to find DCI Jones. He should tell him how things were progressing, and what he intended to do. Calladine also needed to know what Jones had decided about the phone calls to the States.

  “Frankly it’s not on, Tom. Can’t allow them all I’m afraid. Far too costly.”

  “That’s stupid, sir. We know there are others, and we could do with knowing which of those young women are safe at home and which aren’t.”

  “Not our problem. Try going through the embassy — they can do the work. Then if the authorities in the States ask, we’ll give them what we know — that’s all I can do.”

  The man was a first-class fool. Going through the American embassy would take ages. One way or another, Calladine decided he’d get the information he wanted.

  “The press briefing’s arranged for tomorrow morning, sir. And Alice Bolshaw’s been on the phone. She wants to know if you’ve made a decision yet.”

  Joyce’s head came up from amidst her paperwork. “That the young woman Ruth said was looking for work experience?”

  Calladine nodded. “But, given she was Madison Benneti’s friend, I’m not keen. Can you imagine what her reaction will be when she sees that?” He nodded at the board, which was now covered in grisly pictures of the two bodies. “No, I don’t think so. Not while this case is ongoing.”

  “Well if you change your mind, sir, I’ll take her. I’ve a pile of simple routine stuff I can give her to do.”

  He’d think about it, but even working with Joyce, there was no avoiding the hideous photos on that damn board.

  “When do you want to go look at the railway station, sir? It’s getting late, so do you want to leave it until tomorrow?”

  “Might be better to weigh things up in daylight, and the press release will have gone out by lunchtime tomorrow. If it brings anyone in who saw her get off the train, then we can meet them there — get the full picture.”

  “Rocco
has gone to get the CCTV footage from the pub, and ask a few questions. We’ll give it to Julian and see what he comes up with. Imogen — would you make sure Julian knows what Patsy Lumis looks like, so that he can log anyone she spoke to?”

  * * *

  Ruth was pleased to put the drive to Slaithwaite off until the next day. She had one or two bits and pieces to see to, and then she’d be off home. Jake was coming round and they needed to talk. It was make or break time for their relationship.

  “I think I’ll call it a day. See you all in the morning!” Calladine reached for his coat.

  “With any luck you’ll get that ‘downtime’ that’s proving so elusive, sir. A bite to eat, a warm fire and a drop of good scotch — the perfect evening,” Ruth smiled.

  If only her evening could be so enjoyable. She sighed. Was it all worth it? Could she survive without the job if she had to choose between it and Jake? Financially, she could; Ruth was not a spender — she saved, and had done since she’d been a child. She’d inherited money when her parents had died. No, it wasn’t the money she needed — it was the job itself. She loved it.

  Jake didn’t understand. He couldn’t get his head round how she could be so into chasing lunatics and apprehending killers. Mind you he didn’t understand her hobby either. According to him it took her away far too often. She had been planning a trip to the Isle of Lewis in the Hebrides, birdwatching, well raptor watching really, but he wasn’t keen. If she wanted time away he’d prefer to go somewhere warm — together.

  * * *

  Zoe was at home with Jo. Not that Calladine minded — not really. But it meant that the downtime would have to wait a while. They had music playing — alien noises filled his sitting room, and Jo was singing at the top of her voice. Both girls looked at each other and laughed as he appeared in the doorway.

  “Oops — thought you’d be late.” Zoe turned the volume down. “Hope you don’t mind, but we thought we’d eat here for change — spend some time with you.” His daughter smiled.

  Did that smack of wanting something? News to reveal that he might not like? Calladine didn’t have much experience of fatherhood, but he was a fast learner.

  “I’ve cooked,” she announced. “Well — Jo has, and it’s one of her specialities — spaghetti bolognaise.”

  “Made the way my granny used to make it. She was half Italian and practically brought me up.”

  There was an appetising smell coming from his kitchen. She was telling the truth then. The log burner had been stoked up, making the small cottage warm and cosy. This was a much better homecoming than the empty house he was used to.

  “You look fed up, Mr Calladine.” Jo gave him a sympathetic smile. “Is something bothering you? I hope it’s not us being here.”

  “No — definitely not you. But something’s usually bothering me; work mostly — and please, call me Tom. ‘Mr Calladine’ just doesn’t sit right.”

  “Work?”

  “That and my DCI — penny-pinching sod that he is. I need to make some phone calls to the States — to check on the whereabouts of a number of young women, but he won’t allow it because of the cost. How in this world he expects us to get the job done — well . . . it beggars belief. Then, of course, there’s my murdering rogue of a cousin.”

  “Perhaps I could help — well not with the cousin thing. I don’t do families. But I do come from the States, and I have a friend — a policeman who works for the NYPD. I’m sure if I asked him he’d make the enquiries for you.”

  “Won’t he be too busy? They must have quite a workload in New York.”

  “You’re not wrong! He’s based in Queens — a borough of New York — and there’s never a dull moment. But he won’t mind, Devon’s one of the good guys.”

  “Devon? Is that his surname?”

  “No. His name is Devon DeAngelo. Devon’s his first name.”

  “Isn’t the name a little flamboyant for a detective?”

  “Not where I come from.” She laughed. “You’d like him, he’s a cool guy.”

  “Serena Hall — one of the girls — came from Queens.”

  “Then Devon has a vested interest; so much the better. I’ll ring him and set up a meeting. Once that’s done you can speak to him on Skype.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea at all. They could use Skype at work too. That’d cut out the costs completely, and they’d finally be entering the twenty-first century!

  Jo checked her watch. “Just after six here, so it’ll be about twelve noon in the US. I’ll ring him later. He’ll be working now.”

  She was turning out to be okay. She had contacts — ones he could use. And judging from the smell coming from the kitchen, she could cook too.

  “That’s very good of you, Jo. I appreciate the help.”

  “Wait and see what Devon comes up with first. He’s okay; he’ll do what he can. Here’s his email.” She scribbled it on a card. “Do you guys want to eat now?”

  * * *

  She could see lights twinkling in the darkness. Patsy Lumis squinted slightly, trying to make out what they were; candles, she thought. There were dozens of them all around the room and they gave off a sweet aroma — roses. She tried to raise herself up off whatever she was lying on. It wasn’t easy. Her head hurt, and every muscle in her body demanded rest. She was lying on an old, lumpy mattress on the floor. Why was that? At the very least she expected to wake up in Jack’s bed. Why had he left her here like this?

  It took a little effort, but she got groggily to her feet. Most of her clothes had gone — well, from the waist down they had. Patsy looked for something to wrap around herself but couldn’t see anything. She hauled at the hem of her blouse, trying to pull it down over her hips. She wasn’t cold; there was heating somewhere. She couldn’t see a fire, so radiators perhaps. But where was Jack?

  He’d rendered her unconscious and taken her clothes. But why? As she took a few tentative steps, she realised that she was terribly sore between her legs — and then she understood. They must have had sex, rough sex, and more than once from the way she felt. Why would he do that? Why would he drug her? Surely he must have realised that she was more than happy to sleep with him. Why else would she have come away with him in the first place? The questions accelerated the panic.

  She tried to rationalise her situation, perhaps this was some sort of game. Perhaps he’d appear any second and make everything right. But the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach was saying something else. This was no game. This was horribly serious, and she needed to get out.

  Patsy Lumis felt her way around the room. The candles didn’t emit enough light for her to see her surroundings properly. She took hold of one and carefully walked around the perimeter. The room was a narrow oblong and the walls were stone. There was the mattress on the stone flags, but no carpet. The only piece of furniture was what looked like an old dentist’s chair in the far corner. There was nothing else. She shuddered; she hated going to the dentist. She opened a wall cupboard above the chair and shuddered again — dental instruments, a whole array of them in gleaming steel. Where the hell was she?

  “You really are a nosey girl, aren’t you, Vida?”

  The voice seemed to come from the far wall. Was there a door there? She hadn’t heard anyone come in.

  “Jack! Is that you? Can you switch some more lights on? I don’t like the dark,” she said, still trying to maintain some hope that this was going to turn out all right.

  The room filled with manic laughter that echoed inside her head. What was so funny about asking for light?

  “No, Vida, and you’re not going anywhere, so get used to it. You’re going to stay here for a while. If you’re good, I’ll let you keep those perfect white teeth of yours for a little longer. If not, then they’ll go into my collection.”

  Patsy burst into tears. He was frightening her and she was shaking. Surely he couldn’t mean what he said. Why was he being so cruel?

  “So now you know my little weakness, Vida. I enjo
y playing at dentists. Perhaps you’ll disobey me, and then you can play along too. I’d like that. But even my weakness for dentistry pales beside my weakness for you, Vida. You are my major failing, my true path. My nemesis.”

  “I’m Patsy, not Vida. Patsy Lumis! Remember me, Jack?” She was screaming and weeping. “I’m at college! I’m not Vida — whoever she is.”

  “Don’t you dare! You stupid bitch! Vida is my life; my one true love. Do you understand, slut? So if I say you’re Vida, then that’s who you are — is that clear?”

  Patsy Lumis nodded furiously. He was crazy; totally insane. She wanted to scream again, run, grab hold of something and hit him around the head until she knocked him out. But she couldn’t. She was too weak, and she was frozen to the spot with fear.

  Chapter 15

  Day Six

  “CCTV’s in from the undertakers,” Rocco told Calladine, as he entered the incident room the next morning. “We’ve got a blurry image of a bloke wearing dark clothing and a face mask — Mickey Mouse, I think.”

  “He went prepared, then.” The DI shook his head. “We’ve possibly got another one now, so get the image enhanced — anything that helps, because we could really do with a break on this.”

  “Well he’s tall and young, I’d say. It’s the way he moves, and the weight of the girl doesn’t seem to bother him.”

  That was something at least.

  “Her laptop’s full of conversations she had with him, sir,” Imogen reported. “But there’s nothing to pinpoint who he is or where he’s from. He gives nothing away. Madison writes loads, but gets only short messages back. He must have something else, because his messaging skills are rubbish.”

  “Did he send her any photos?”

  “I don’t know. She has such a lot of stuff on here — photos she’s taken and stuff from the social networking site — and I’ve no idea who I’m looking for.”

  “Order them by date if you can. That might help, given we have a rough idea of the timescale.” He turned to Ruth.

  “What time’s the press briefing?”

 

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