Wild Thing (DI Ted Darling Book 6)

by L M Krier

  He looked round the office for someone else.

  'Virgil, please can you nip down to the interview room. Tell Jezza to make it a formal break for about fifteen minutes. If you were to happen to let slip in front of Morgane and her brief that I've been called away to look at some important new evidence which has just come into my possession, that would be excellent.'

  Virgil grinned at him.

  'Understood, boss.'

  Ted turned back to the screen, looking in horror at what unfolded there. In the end, he got Steve to print off just two, for now and took them downstairs with him, asking Jim to join him for five minutes, with the Ice Queen, to discuss strategy.

  'I think we now have enough here to charge her with Tyler's and her mother's murders to be going on with. I'd like to do that, shortly, but I'm changing my opinion about bail. Depending on how the next part of the interview goes, I favour going for overnight custody in a secure unit, youth court in the morning and an application for continuing custody.'

  Morgane was still looking completely unconcerned, sitting chatting to her godmother, with the occasional aside to the solicitor.

  Morgane, I'd like to show you a couple of photos now.'

  First, he slid across the table the picture of the Batman toy, propped up against the tree trunk.

  'How did you find that?' she asked, frowning.

  'How, Morgane? Not where?' Jezza again pounced on the question.

  'Detective Constable, you're putting words into my client's mouth,' the solicitor cut in.

  Ignoring both of them, Ted pushed another photo towards her. It was of Tyler Bradbury's semi-naked body, floating at the edge of the river. To his astonishment, she pointed at it and started laughing.

  'He's showing his bum, just like Gordon the garden gnome. I thought he'd sink like a sack of spuds, but he kept floating back up to the top, no matter how long I held him under.'

  'Morgane, you mustn't say anything, nothing at all,' the solicitor cut in sharply, her expression suddenly one of distaste but trying to stay professional and look after her client's interests.'

  'And your mother, Morgane? What happened there?'

  The solicitor tried again to intervene but the girl made direct eye contact with Ted and smiled, her expression one of innocent flirtation.

  'I thought the first blow would do it, but it didn't. She just kept gurgling. I had to hit her a few times.'

  The godmother had turned white and looked in danger of sliding off her chair.

  'Morgane, you're going to be taken now and formally charged with the murder of your mother, Stephanie Mason and that of Tyler Bradbury. I have to warn you that additional charges may be forthcoming.'

  Then, for the benefit of the lawyer, who was still trying to find words, 'We will be opposing bail. Quite vigorously.'

  Chapter Thirty-one

  It was not as late as he feared when Ted got home. He still felt bone-weary. The interview with Morgane had left him feeling wrung out. He'd dealt with plenty of heartless killers in his career, but he'd never come across anything like Morgane. It was made worse by the fact that she was so young and looked so angelic.

  He'd sent Trev a text with an idea of when he'd be back and asked if he needed to pick up a takeaway. He felt bad that, not only had he forgotten Trev's birthday, but he hadn't been able to take him out for a meal. Come hell or high water, he intended to do something nice for him at the weekend.

  Trev was in the kitchen and something smelt good. Ted realised he was ravenous. He remembered having bought a sandwich but he had no idea what had become of it.

  Ted held out the roses with a smile of apology.

  'Oh, thwee wed woses, how twiply womantic.' Trev laughed, adapting the line from the film. 'I'll put them in water. Supper's ready when you are.'

  It was only then that Ted noticed a huge, extravagant bouquet in a vase on the table. Beautifully wrapped, full of fragrant blooms swathed in ribbon, it must have cost a fortune. As Trev was fussing over Ted's offering, pathetic in comparison, Ted couldn't resist a sneaky look at the card which was still attached.

  'Mille baisers. Laurence.'

  He had no idea what it meant. He didn't want to know what it meant. He felt totally inadequate in the face of such competition.

  'Have I time for a very quick shower? I feel totally tainted by the interview.'

  Trev moved the big bouquet out of the way and gave Ted's gift pride of place on the kitchen table, which was set for them to eat at. It made Ted feel worse, somehow.

  'As long as it is quick. I spoke to Shewee. She's still enthusing about Henry's place and his parents. I think she's mentally already marrying him and having his babies, poor lamb. She doesn't know I told him that if he's just using my kid sister while he decides on his sexuality, I will break every bone in his body. Slowly. Which is a bit hypocritical of me, considering I once did the same thing. Ironically, now I come to think of it, with a girl called Henrietta.'

  He realised Ted was not paying a lot of attention to him. He was leaning against a work surface, scowling, his arms folded. His brain was working overtime, turning mille baisers round in his head, looking for a meaning. A thousand something, but what? He'd sneak a look on his laptop as soon as he could.

  He could just ask Trev. He should ask Trev. The trouble was, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

  'Planet Earth to DCI Darling. Hello?? Hey, you, go and get that shower, if you're going to. I'm starving, even if you're not.'

  'Yes, sorry, I was miles away. I won't be long. Sorry again that I forgot your birthday. I'll make it up to you at the weekend. I suggested hiking but it's your birthday, so you choose. Whatever would make you happy.'

  'Fab! We can fly to Paris for the weekend. Shopping, art galleries, maybe a flea market.'

  'If that's what you'd like,' Ted told him, groaning inwardly.

  Trev laughed.

  'Oh, Ted, you're no fun to wind up, it's just too easy.'

  He called after his partner as he took the stairs two at a time, heading for the shower.

  'And you can make it up to me later, when we've eaten. In bed.'

  'It's fine, Ted, honestly. It happens to everyone occasionally. It's not surprising, given the stress you're under. I put too much pressure on you.'

  Ted had sat up and swung his legs out over the side of the bed. He was leaning forward, his shoulders hunched, the picture of abject misery. When Trev went to put an arm round his shoulders, he shrugged it off. He looked to be poised ready for flight.

  'Ted, really, it's fine. Come on, come and lie down with me. We won't do anything. Just hold me. Talk to me. Tell me what's troubling you.'

  Trev knew his partner better than to try putting the light on. If Ted would talk to him at all, indoors, it would only be in the dark, and only if he felt safe, not vulnerable.

  Slowly, reluctantly, Ted slid back into the bed and lay awkwardly on his back, not moving. Trev propped himself up on one elbow to look at him in the semi-darkness, the only light that of a street lamp shining faintly through the thick curtains.

  'Talk to me. Please.'

  Ted took a deep breath.

  'I just keep thinking. About you and Laurence. And wondering how I can match up.'

  Trev rolled silently onto his back, putting a forearm over his face. His shoulders and upper body started to shake with emotion. It took Ted a while to realise that his partner was crying with laughter.

  'Are you laughing at me?'

  'Oh, Ted, you silly sod. I should be angry with you, for not trusting me. But it's funny. It's priceless. Honestly.'

  When he got his breath back, he sat up and leaned over Ted.

  'Laurence is French. It's a woman's name in France. Laurence is a woman. My new BFF. You know, my latest fag hag. I am so, so sorry you didn't realise that. It never occurred to me that you might think she was a man. I honestly thought you knew me better than that.'

  Feeling increasingly stupid, Ted asked warily, 'And what does mille baisers me
an?' hoping he was pronouncing it correctly.

  'It means a thousand kisses. She's very flamboyant. She's a French woman, with a gay best friend. She thought she was doing something nice for me. And I never realised you were eaten up with jealousy thinking she was my new lover.'

  'I should have asked you, shouldn't I?' Ted's voice was sounding more miserable than ever.

  'You should have trusted me, Ted. That's what the issue is here. A lack of trust. And if you were worried then, yes, you should have asked me. But you do have to see the funny side of it.'

  'Maybe one day,' Ted said glumly. 'Now I just feel a total prat for ruining your birthday and making a complete fool of myself. I'm sorry.'

  'Let me just explain it to you, one more time.'

  Trev's delivery became staccato as he punctuated each word with a kiss.

  'I. Love. You. And. Only. You. Goodness knows why; you can be the most annoying bundle of angst and low self-esteem. But I do. Very much.'

  Ted turned on his side to kiss him back.

  'Well, Mr Policeman. I may not be a clever detective, like you are,' Trev said, 'but I do think your self-esteem is rising again.'

  Morgane Edwards was due to appear before the youth court at ten o'clock the following morning for remand. On a charge of murder, her case would have to go before the Crown Court for trial at a later date. Ted had an early morning briefing arranged with Jim, the Ice Queen, and someone from CPS to discuss the grounds for opposing bail.

  Before it was due to start the Ice Queen drew Ted aside for a quiet word.

  'This is your golden opportunity to gain maximum points from your reporter friend. The press and media will be all over this like a rash, of course. They'll know already and you can't give him any real information before the hearing. But you could at least phone him on the pretext of making sure he knows about the hearing and drop hints that the identity of the accused may well surprise a few people.

  'Ad lib, keep him on side. Give him a sweetener. We may need to use him again in the future.'

  She was right, Ted knew, but he never contacted him with good grace. It went against the grain.

  'Morning, Ted, you saved me the bother of having to call you. So, who have you got in custody?'

  'You know I can't tell you that, Alastair. I just wanted to make sure you had the timings and details of the hearing. What I will tell you is that it's going to surprise a few people.'

  'It can't be the ex-husband, if it's youth court. So is it the daughter? It's more likely to be family than a stranger.'

  'You'll know at ten o'clock. I just wanted to give you the heads up.'

  'I've got news for you, as it goes, Ted. I'm moving to Liverpool. Getting a bit same old, same old round here. I needed a change of scene and a better job came up. I'll miss our little chats in The Grapes, though, I must say.'

  'Yes, me too,' Ted said, crossing his fingers for the lie. 'Good luck to you, Alastair. Do look me up if you're ever this way again.'

  Then he added, without really knowing why, 'As a leaving present to you here's something that you're the first to know, but keep it quiet for now. Although our suspect will appear on two counts of murder this morning, I'm hoping there will be more to come. But that's all I can say for now.'

  The news of Pocket Billiards' departure put him in a surprisingly good mood. He hoped it was just the first in a series of good news for the day.

  'I come with fresh and surprising news for you,' the Crown Prosecutor told them as he accepted coffee and sat down for the pre-hearing meeting. 'Our accused has undergone a change of legal representation overnight. We understand that her late mother's law firm no longer wishes to represent her.

  'The father is apparently livid and threatening them with all sorts. But we all know they've built their reputation on winning tricky cases. They don't want to handle one which looks like a complete lost cause from the start, based on what they've seen of their young client so far. The official line is that they fear a conflict of interest, defending the daughter of a late colleague. But I think we all know that that's a load of bull. It's quite heartening, too. If their side is already seeing it as not worth fighting for, it looks more promising for us.

  'You've talked to her, Ted. Do you think she'll confess? I mean a proper confession, not what she's said so far. I can't see even a third rate legal team letting her enter anything other than a not guilty plea.'

  'As Dr Hopkins explained it, it wouldn't be a confession, as such, as she doesn't recognise that she's done anything wrong. But she may well tell us all about it when I next question her. I'd say there's still a possibility we'll get a guilty plea. I intend to put more charges to her. Mrs Murray, the bus victim, quite probably Luke Martin and possibly the arson fatality, from four years ago.

  'I don't want to get Mr and Mrs Martin's hopes up, but I might tell them that we do, at last, have a suspect for Luke's death. It's high time we put that one to bed.'

  'You really think she did that one? A random stabbing in an alleyway?'

  'From talking to her, and from Dr Hopkins' assessment, I think she's capable of anything. Once we get the rest of the forensic results, we'll charge her with the animal tortures, too. We'll be looking for life with a recommendation that she's never released.'

  'Do we have any idea of motive?'

  'Read the psych assessment. I suspect if I asked her why she killed any of them, she might say why not?'

  Kate was now persona non grata with Morgane's father. The enemy. Worse, the enemy within, who had been in their lives only to seek to frame his precious daughter. He was refusing even to entertain the idea that Morgane might have committed the crimes with which she was now charged.

  He'd been advised to stay at the hotel until the last minute as the press pack currently had his flat under siege, waiting for his return. They'd be on him like hyenas at the court.

  It was more a quick get-together than a morning briefing and Ted had called it slightly earlier than usual to prepare for court. He wanted to remind the whole team, including those from South Manchester, that in line with tradition, he would be in the chair for the first round at The Grapes after work.

  They might have their prime suspect in custody but there was a long way yet to go to build the case, especially with the other charges still to be brought.

  'Kate, I want you at court and I want you keeping an eye on Mr Edwards, please. I know he thinks you're the enemy now but if Morgane is remanded in custody, and it's likely that she will be, until a trial date, he's going to need someone he knows to support him, if necessary. I'd just like to take the opportunity to thank you for your work. Do please join us in The Grapes at the end of the day. I'm buying.

  'Right, I need to get my files together and get myself sorted out. Well done, everyone, good job. Make sure all your notes are up to date. Jo, you're in charge. Let's build solid cases for Tyler Bradbury and Stephanie Mason first, then see where we go from there.'

  Trev had supervised Ted's wardrobe for the day as there was a good chance he would be appearing on television, if only locally. Youth court was not open to the public, but the press were allowed in, and cameras would probably be hovering outside hoping for some glimpse of human tragedy they could share with a public avid for such stories. Nothing could be said or shown to reveal the identity of the accused through the youth court process, although that could be changed when it went to Crown Court for trial. That was likely to be some time in the future, and Ted and his team would be working flat out until then to provide every detail CPS needed to get a solid conviction and the right sentence.

  Morgane's father was there and was allowed to sit next to his daughter. She looked, if anything, even less concerned than before. The way she was looking about her, staring intently at faces, made Ted feel sure she was mentally drawing those present and, as soon as she had access to pen and paper, she would be capturing their likenesses.

  Her new legal representative was a real come-down from the previous one. If her mother's colle
ague was Premier League, the young man with the cheap suit and unfortunate speech impediment who was with her for the hearing was from the subs' bench of a lowly town club.

  The new defence team had clearly had no time to put together any kind of case for bail. Faced with the impressive report from Anthony Hopkins, they had simply rolled over to show their underbelly. Morgane was remanded for a week in secure youth custody. It was a pattern which would be repeated a few times before the trial, unless the defence could find the teeth to fight convincingly for her release on bail.

  Ted could feel Edwards' eyes boring into him like lasers as a composed and smiling Morgane was led away from him. He took Kate's arm to hurry her outside.

  As they reached the doors, they were confronted by press and TV cameras anxious to get something, anything, they could use.

  From behind them came a wordless bellow, more the sound of an animal in torment than that of a human being. Ted instinctively whirled to face whatever danger was approaching and to put himself directly in front of Kate.

  Clive Edwards flew at him in a fury of whirling fists, inarticulate sounds of rage spilling from his lips, frothy saliva flying from his open mouth. He was stocky, heavier than Ted, and the earlier impression of a rugby player was accentuated by the head lowered into a thick neck, in which the veins stood out.

  A passing uniformed constable stepped forward, drawing his baton, reaching for his spray.

  'Leave it!' Ted said sharply.

  When the younger man hesitated, he barked, 'I said leave it!'

  Ted simply side-stepped neatly out of the way, his skills and timing at martial arts no match for an enraged hooker from a local club. He pushed Kate safely out of range then, almost gently, got Edwards in a restraining arm lock which saw him effectively immobilised but in no pain unless he struggled.

  All fight left him in an instant. His face simply caved in on itself in a flood of grief, tears and snot. He made to turn and Ted let him, allowing him to collapse against his shoulder, his body torn by sobs. Kate moved closer, holding out tissues.