Dead End

by Dead End (retail) (epub)

  ‘And I’m sure you were busy all night,’ he said. He hated himself for his childishness, but he couldn’t help it.

  ‘What? After I left yours, I went straight to bed,’ she said.

  ‘Who with?’ he asked. Kelly was puzzled.

  ‘On my own, of course. What the hell is eating you? I’m the one who was the third wheel last night, if you remember,’ she said.

  ‘I know someone stayed with you last night, Kelly.’ He couldn’t believe that he was about to beg a woman to be faithful. She’d got so far under his skin that he was turning into a jealous lover.

  He heard her stop what she was doing. A door slammed.

  ‘Johnny, where are you?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m … I’m …’ he said.

  ‘You’ve been checking on me!’

  ‘I wanted to see you to say sorry about last night, but the car …’

  There was a pause. ‘You fucking idiot,’ Kelly said. ‘That was Zachary Fitzgerald. The earl’s grandson. He was upset and I suggested he come over. His housekeeper has gone missing; it’s a long story. He’s sweet and he’s lonely and he’s grieving, Johnny. And I was pissed thanks to you, so I couldn’t go up to the hall when he called and asked for my help. He was knackered; he needed a good night’s sleep.’

  Johnny closed his eyes. He’d got the whole thing spectacularly wrong.

  ‘Fuck, sorry,’ he said.

  ‘Never mind. I’m impressed that you think I could bag a nineteen-year-old.’

  She had no idea, he thought.

  ‘Listen, I need a favour, and I think you owe me one, now,’ she said. His heart rate had steadied.

  ‘Go on,’ he said.

  ‘Will you go to my place and check on him for me?’

  Johnny had arranged to take Josie out – she needed the exercise; city living was making her lazy – but he figured he could check on the Fitzgerald boy if it meant getting back into Kelly’s good books.

  ‘He’s already left, but I can go to Wasdale Hall. What do you want me to say?’ he asked.

  ‘Just tell him I’m busy all day, but he can go back and hang out at mine if he wants, and that I’ve spoken to missing persons about Linda, the housekeeper.’

  ‘No problem. Will I see you tonight?’ he asked.

  ‘You might see me on the news; we’re about to bash in a few doors at the Sunnyside Guest House. Keep everything crossed that I’ve got this right.’

  ‘You’re always right, Kelly,’ he said.

  ‘That’s the problem. Maybe this time I’m going to screw up so big that I won’t get a chance at promotion ever again.’

  ‘OK, now that is your shoulder demon talking.’ Kelly had once told him about her special friend the shoulder demon, and he’d suggested giving it a name. He’d come up with Dylan, because he was the character in The Magic Roundabout who always hung about in a tree bringing everyone down.

  ‘Tell Dylan to go and jump off a cliff,’ he said.

  Kelly made a noise Johnny couldn’t decipher, but hung up before he could ask her about it.

  Chapter 58

  Like the rest of the country, Cumbria’s armed response vehicles were on high alert. It was deemed that the terrorist threat in the Lakes was low – non-existent even – but with the summer season about to bring in eighteen million tourists, one could never rule out an attack. Kelly knew that the resource was a precious one, and she hoped she’d got it right. The last confirmed sighting of Jack Sentry had been from a trucker at Forton Services. Interviews with some of his old climbing buddies had led nowhere. That was until they’d got hold of the CCTV footage from Manchester airport. Sentry’s car had been tracked to one of the long stay carparks, and then he’d clearly been seen making his way to the train station and boarding a train back to the Lake District. The car had been impounded.

  The adrenalin caused Kelly to doubt herself, and at the same time she was desperate to get going. Cheryl Gregory had fallen off her radar. The girl had merely stated that she’d had a past relationship with Sentry, and that she was scared of him. Now it was a real possibility that she was harbouring a suspect. It made perfect sense that Sentry would target an old flame who was easily manipulated. Other worries gripped Kelly and she told herself that things would be so much worse should Sentry turn out to be their man and she was the one responsible for letting him go. She had no choice. She had to do this. Furthermore, Sentry might know where Sophie and Hannah were.

  It would have been simpler in London, with blues on every corner and over two thousand authorised firearms officers at her disposal. Scrutiny was always going to fall on the provinces when force was used. And it added to her apprehension. She had no evidence that Sentry was armed, but it was always a possibility: that was what rules of engagement were for. The ART would decide on that one. If it turned out to be nothing, and a wasted journey, then that was better than someone ending up dead.

  They had reasonable grounds for arrest, and the rest was up to her; she just needed a little help, and the boss agreed. She’d filed the risk assessment and suggested full kit for all officers: stab vest, cuffs, baton, and even a rabbit enforcer tool. A map of the premises was stuck to the incident board, and they discussed entry points. There’d already been three separate plain-clothes walk-bys of the hotel. They were ready.

  HQ confirmed that she could have an ARV on twenty minutes’ notice to move, and that it was on its way, heading to Junction 40 on the M6, ready to take the A66 into Penrith and on to Pooley Bridge. A rapid-entry team would meet them there. They had insisted on a risk assessment for the immediate area around Pooley Bridge as insurance, and she understood why, but it had taken another two hours to complete.

  The manager of the Sunnyside Guest House was fully compliant, although understandably nervous. They needed unrestricted access, and they needed the guests out of the way. They’d been informed that Cheryl was not on shift today, and Kelly hoped she’d be in her room, but their main focus was Sentry.

  A superintendent would be the officer in command of the ARV on the ground, and would take the final decision to pull any triggers, if it came to that. It was down to Kelly to feed information to the car’s commander to determine risk. She felt the pressure. DCI Cane wasn’t stupid: he’d left it to her. She and Rob sat in a patrol vehicle, and she spoke to the ARV by radio. Timing was crucial, and they needed to move at the same time, to secure the hotel and evacuate guests.

  Kelly’s pulse soared as she gave the order to approach the guest house. The two vehicles stopped outside, and she got out. She’d been through the rig many times before, and she’d seen it go tits up. Her biggest fear was getting the wrong man, or someone getting hurt.

  She secured a perimeter around the hotel, and three burly uniforms in bulky kit got out of the ARV. Their weapons were on safety. They moved into the hotel, and three more uniforms cleared reception and checked the other downstairs rooms. Happy that they were clear, they proceeded to the room occupied by Cheryl Gregory. Kelly gave the go-ahead to bang on her door.

  ‘POLICE!’

  Cheryl wasn’t answering.

  Kelly felt uneasy. In London, she would never approach a potentially hostile situation without the TSG. But that didn’t exist here. The Tactical Support Group was London-based and provided back-up to all potentially dangerous situations involving armed response. Then again, Jack Sentry wasn’t an arms dealer surrounded by ten cronies in a warehouse. He was just one man, out of options. She spoke into her radio and communicated with the officer who led the ARV. She needed to decide whether to bash the door in.

  ‘POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR!’

  The radio crackled. ‘Ma’am: noise from within the room, sounded like a woman’s cry.’

  ‘Go, now!’ Kelly said.

  Dazed guests milled around the car park, and were cajoled towards the front by staff, oblivious to what was happening inside. Some asked why the police were here, and others refused to be hurried. A few stumbled in haste. Some spoke into their mobile phones.
Two people recorded the whole thing; it would be on Instagram within the hour.

  From inside Cheryl’s room, a man shouted, ‘I didn’t do it!’

  But it was too late for negotiation. The door caved in spectacularly, with wood flying everywhere, and three officers shouted, ‘GET DOWN! POLICE!’ Cheryl kicked backwards, connecting with the man’s shin, and he swore. But before the words were out of his throat, he’d been picked up by two men and slammed onto the bed, where he was cuffed. Cheryl cowered in the corner, crying.

  ‘Please turn around with your hands behind your back,’ she was instructed. She did as she was told. Her whole body shook.

  The officer in charge of the ARV spoke into his radio.

  ‘Ma’am, two suspects apprehended: no resistance,’ he said. Kelly closed her eyes and made her way to Cheryl’s room. Adrenalin still pumped through her system, and her hands shook. Rob followed her.

  ‘Contained?’ she asked.

  ‘Confirmed,’ he said.

  She walked quicker now, and instinct took over. She just wanted to get there, as she still had no idea if the man she’d just ordered manhandled and cuffed was Jack Sentry.

  She approached the room, and assessed the damage: the door and frame would have to be paid for. She saw Cheryl first; the young woman looked terrified, and so she should be, thought Kelly. She had to look twice at the man. His hair was long and blonde, and he had a full beard. By God, he’d done a good job, but there was no doubt in her mind that they had the right man.

  ‘Jack Sentry,’ she said. ‘Well, well, you have been busy.’

  The pair were led to the waiting vehicles outside, and Kelly stayed behind to thank the ARV officers. She hadn’t put them in danger, and for that she was thankful. Three years ago, a raid in London had gone horribly wrong and she’d given the command to shoot. Now, she looked into the eyes of the men who were trained to either apprehend or kill with one shot. They were modest and professional. She shook their hands.

  A forensic team would search the room, and until then, police would remain on site, but Kelly’s first task was to get Jack Sentry and Cheryl Gregory into custody, and keep them up all night until she got some answers.

  ‘I hope you weren’t planning a romantic evening, Rob,’ she said.

  ‘No, guv.’ He was as ready to get stuck in as she was.

  Chapter 59

  Sophie clung to the bed sheet. She could feel the strength seeping out of her body. After hearing Hannah, she’d been able to find renewed energy and the will to survive. But it was leaving her again.

  She was giving up.

  She looked in the direction from where she’d heard Hannah’s cry for help, and her eyes closed slowly. She had a fever. Her whole body was covered in sweat and she lay shivering, willing the door to open and Hannah to walk in. She dreamt that they were sitting on top of Loadpot Hill, watching the sun rise, having never been tricked into getting into that car. She was no good at cars – all she knew was that they all had four wheels and came in different colours – but she’d never forget his. The smell.

  She hadn’t really noticed it when she’d climbed in, hoping to get Hannah help for her bleeding head. She’d held Hannah across her knees all the way as he chatted to her about the sunrise, and how he’d come up here to stalk deer.

  How stupid they’d been. Now the smell came back to her. She’d smelled it before, when emptying the rubbish from a rancid bin outside her halls of residence at university. Rotting, decaying, sweet and sour.

  The door slammed and she froze. He was here. He was coming. She began to shake. She couldn’t take any more. Her body couldn’t take any more. She wanted to die, and she was ready. Nothing could be done; they were never getting out of here. She had no idea if Hannah was still here. She drifted in and out of wakefulness and jolted into reality countless times, not knowing if the sounds she heard were the same ones from a minute ago, or if days had passed.

  The door opened.

  Sophie closed her eyes tightly. She had stopped looking. She’d stopped thinking and feeling. A hand shook her and she recoiled, moving as far away as she could and turning to the wall.

  ‘Sophie.’

  It was Hannah.

  Sophie flipped over and opened her eyes. They were crusted with salt and grime. It could be a dream, or it could be another trick; she didn’t know which.

  The figure at the edge of her bed looked different. It sounded like Hannah, but she didn’t dare trust it. Bruises made the face swollen, and the voice was deeper. Dead. That was it! They were dead already.

  The relief!

  The hand shook her again. ‘Sophie!’

  It really was her. Sophie tried to focus. Hannah cupped her face and cried. Slowly, Sophie moved her arm and reached out to touch her face.

  ‘Hannah?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me. Sophie, are you OK?’

  Sophie shook her head and caught her breath. Hannah stroked her face and held her hand.

  ‘Why?’ Sophie wanted to ask what she was doing in here. She wanted to tell her that she didn’t understand.

  ‘Shh. It’s all right. There’s a woman here. He knows her. He put her in my room and then brought me here. I don’t understand, but I’m here now.’

  ‘Who is she?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ They spoke in whispers.

  ‘He knows her. He knows her well. She talked to him, telling him to stop. She said the police are coming.’

  ‘The police?’

  ‘Yes, everything will be over soon. Hang on, Sophie. Don’t go to sleep. You need to stay awake.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Yes you can.’ Hannah climbed onto the bed and lay next to her. The warmth of her body convinced Sophie that her vision was real, and she leant in towards her. Hannah held her and rocked her, whispering to her that she was safe. Sophie put her hand up to Hannah’s face and touched her cheek.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Hannah said. ‘You’re so hot.’

  ‘I have a fever.’

  ‘I can feel it.’ She looked around the room. A bottle lay on its side on the floor, and she got off the bed to see if there was any water in it. There was about an inch in the bottom, and she brought it to the bed and poured it over Sophie’s face. Sophie opened her eyes.

  ‘Stay with me,’ Hannah whispered.

  The two girls looked at one another and held hands.

  They both jumped when they heard raised voices. One was a man and one was a woman. They recognised the man as their tormentor.

  ‘That’s the woman who came.’

  ‘She’s arguing with him!’

  ‘Yes, and he’s listening.’

  They heard a bang, and a scream.

  Chapter 60

  ‘You take Cheryl and I’ll take Sentry, then we’ll swap after about thirty minutes. Ready?’ Kelly said to Rob.

  ‘Yup,’ he replied.

  Kelly entered the interview room. Jack Sentry looked tense. He appeared so different to the last time she’d seen him, and it was a strange sensation. It was as if she was interviewing a completely different person. A uniform stood in the corner and nodded to her.

  ‘Could we have the table removed, please?’ she requested.

  It was always better to see a suspect’s whole body; a table gave them places to hide. Sentry looked worried by this development, and sat up straighter. His hands were in cuffs.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Kelly. She’d watch his feet and his posture. She sorted various bits of paper at the table, which had been moved to the edge of the room, and took her time.

  ‘Jack, good afternoon,’ she said. She sat down opposite him. ‘Let’s get the housekeeping out of the way, shall we? Please state your full name and date of birth for the record.’ He did so. Even his voice had changed.

  ‘So tell me about your climbing.’

  ‘What?’ He floundered, which was exactly what she wanted.

  ‘I know you’ve been hiking these hills for years; tell me about it. Is it a hobby or part
of your work?’

  ‘My work?’

  ‘Abducting, torturing and killing young blonde girls.’

  ‘No! I … You’ve got all of this wrong. I didn’t touch them,’ he said.

  ‘Them? We’ve only got one body. Would you like to tell me where the others are?’

  ‘No! I mean … I don’t know! I didn’t do anything wrong,’ he said. He was almost believable.

  ‘Really? OK. Let’s just pretend that I believe you for a second.’ She let this sink in. ‘Why did you run?’

  ‘Because I knew you’d think it was me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Killing Freya.’

  ‘Freya? So you knew all along that she was dead?’

  ‘No! I don’t know!’ He put his head in his hands. ‘I didn’t kill anyone. I saw it on the news like everyone else,’ he said.

  ‘So tell me about Hannah Lawson and Sophie Daker. Did they reject your requests for payment in kind? Which of them did you prefer?’

  ‘It was a joke! I didn’t mean it,’ he said. He’d begun to sweat, and Kelly could feel his discomfort. His feet tapped and he pushed back hard on his chair.

  ‘It’s not a particularly funny joke, though, is it? Did Freya reject you too? Is that why you killed her?’

  ‘I didn’t! You have to believe me. I didn’t touch her! OK, so I like women, but I never do anything they don’t want!’ His eyes filled with water, and he tried to spread his hands. In cuffs, it accentuated the gesture.

  ‘Why should I believe you, Jack? I have a dead girl – who you were screwing – and two more missing who stayed at your campsite, and then you go missing. I’ve got others who’ve gone on record about your sexual harassment of them at the Peak’s Bay. I’ve also got the cold case of Abi Clarence who turned up dead three years ago having worked with you. Give me another explanation. I’m listening,’ she said.

  Silence.

  ‘Jack, we know you were seeing Freya when she went missing, and it’s looking likely that you were the last person to see her alive. You have put a lot of effort into evading me, and I’d like to know why. Give me an alternative. I need something. If it wasn’t you, tell me what you know.’