Call It Pretending (#3 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  “The Saturday murders,” Katy interrupted. “How is Danny connected to that?”

  “I’ve just said, I can’t go into the details, Katy, but you’re on the right lines.” He looked across to Danny. “One name crops up over and over, but I don’t believe he is the killer. I want to repeat that. I don’t believe he is the killer, but the name is that of your father. Your real dad.”

  Danny shrugged as if it meant nothing to him, but Paolo had spotted the tiny twitch of his mouth.

  “Danny, we need to find your father.”

  “Join the club,” he said. “If you run into him, tell him I said thanks for nothing.”

  “You have no idea where he is?”

  Danny shook his head. “No, and I don’t want to know either. If he’d stuck around, Mark and I wouldn’t have ended up living with that psychopath my mother is so in love with. Did you know she lets him beat her senseless and still sticks up for him over us?”

  Paolo waited to give Danny time to compose himself again. Only when he was sure the boy had his emotions under control did he move on to the next question.

  “What about Mark? Has he had any contact with your father?”

  Danny laughed and Paolo thought he’d never heard a sadder sound. “Mark’s an idiot. He still thinks Dad’s going to come back and save us. You know, even when he was in such deep trouble, all he could say was that Dad would turn up and put things right. I don’t know how he thought that was going to work, but he believed it body and soul. If he’d known where to find Dad, he’d have told me to go and fetch him.”

  “Danny, do you mind if I just go over a few things with you. I’m trying to get the timeline straight in my head, but there are gaps.”

  Danny shrugged. “Sure, go for it.”

  Paolo looked at the notes he had on the Stormont children. “Okay, here’s what I know so far. When your father disappeared, your mother became dependent on drugs and alcohol. As a result the court placed you, your brother and your sister in the care of your grandmother.”

  “She’s still got Princess Celine,” Danny said. “Granny didn’t want us, but she loves her precious granddaughter.”

  The bitterness in his tone could have stripped paint from the walls, but Paolo didn’t blame him. He’d have been feeling that way himself in Danny’s position.

  “When your grandmother decided she couldn’t cope with the three of you, how come you ended up back with your mother and weren’t placed in care? You’d been taken away from your mother, so I’m surprised they agreed to you going back to her.”

  “They didn’t know about it. Granny didn’t tell them. She salved her conscience by sending Mum money and taking us out to lunch every so often.” He smiled. “It wasn’t so bad at first. Mum tried hard to stay off the drugs and booze, but then she met the monster.”

  His eyes filled with tears and Paolo handed him a tissue. He brushed it across his eyes, almost as if he was angry for showing weakness.

  “He moved in even before they got married and it changed everything. What he wanted came first and Mark and I stopped existing for Mum. I stuck it out as long as I could, but pushed off to live with a friend when he started knocking her about.” He glared at Paolo. “You needn’t think I abandoned her, because I didn’t. I tried to stop him from hitting her, but then he’d lay into me and she did nothing. Afterwards, she’d blame me for upsetting him. Said it was my fault he lost his temper. I had to get away. Mark has, or had, a rosier view of life than me. He was convinced there must be good in Carl somewhere. He thought if he was pally with Carl, maybe he’d keep his fists to himself. And look what happened to him!”

  Paolo saw Katy reach across and squeeze Danny’s hand. He wondered just how involved she was and hoped she wasn’t going to end up hurt. Danny was emotionally damaged.

  “What happened to you after you left home? You’re in care now, so at some point you moved out of your friend’s house.”

  Danny nodded. “Yes, it was after Mark was arrested. Social Services remembered we existed. They found out where I was living and came for me. I’ve been in care for six months, but I won’t be there for much longer. They can only keep me until I’m sixteen if I’ve got somewhere to go.”

  “And have you?” Paolo asked.

  Danny nodded. “At the moment I help out at the homeless shelter on weekends. John, who runs the place, is a good guy. He said one of the lads is moving out from the flat upstairs. It’ll just be a room, sharing the kitchen and bathroom with the other three living there, but I won’t have to pay any rent as long as I give them a hand in the evenings when they’re dishing out the food.”

  “What about your schooling?”

  He smiled at Katy before turning back and answering. “I’ve got plans for the future, Mr Storey. I intend to finish school and see if I can get into a university.”

  Paolo had an idea the plans for the future included Katy and had to stop himself from saying something which would alienate her. She’s a sensible girl, he told himself. Trust her judgment. Easier said than done, but he was determined to try.

  “Okay, tell me about Mark. Let me see if I can do anything to help his situation.”

  Danny kept quiet for a few moments, then seemed to come to the conclusion that Paolo might be on his side, because he nodded.

  “I wasn’t living at home, if you can call it that, but Mark was. He says Carl and Mum had cut back on their drinking and Carl had been less aggressive for a few days. He was on the phone a lot, talking about some business deal he was planning; a takeover.”

  He looked directly at Paolo. “Yeah, I know. Looking back now it’s pretty obvious, but Mark always looks for the best in people, even now. He says Carl mentioned a garage in Leicester. He used to be a mechanic, and Mark thought maybe Carl was going to rent a place to work in. Mark is really good with his hands and thought Carl might take him on as an apprentice. Anyway, Carl told Mark he needed him to take a gift to Leicester for the garage owner. He called it a sweetener against future business. What Mark didn’t realise was that the parcel he was carrying contained enough ecstasy tablets to keep a club full of ravers happy.”

  Paolo nodded. “I remember the story now. The police had received a tipoff from a rival gang that a delivery was going to be made. They watched your brother walk in with the goods and then raided the garage. He was caught red-handed. The garage owner went down, but I can’t recall how long for.”

  “Not long enough,” Danny said. “And Carl should have gone to prison as well, but he claimed he knew nothing about the drugs. Said he’d been worried about Mark and had been going to talk to him about his,” he made quote marks with his fingers, “wayward behaviour.”

  Danny’s eyes once again filled with tears. “It’s not fair. He stays free and Mark gets put away in a remand home in Leicester. Can you do anything?”

  “Please, Dad, say you can help,” Katy begged, taking Danny’s hand again.

  “Danny, I’ve met Carl and I believe every word you’ve told me, but whether or not I can get others to see things the same way, I just don’t know.”

  “But you’ll try, Dad, please say you’ll try.”

  Paolo nodded. “I’ll try, but don’t get your hopes up. This has already gone through the courts, so it’s highly unlikely I can get any conviction overturned without new evidence, but I might be able to do something about Mark’s incarceration.”

  Katy jumped up, rushed round the desk and hugged him.

  “I knew I could rely on you. You’re the best.”

  When they’d left, Paolo reflected on Danny’s story. He could imagine how a young man in Mark’s position could get suckered into dealing drugs without even realising he was being used as a mule. It was a crying shame if Danny’s version of events was true, but just because his brother believed in him, that didn’t necessarily mean Mark was innocent.

  On a positive note, at least Paolo now knew where to get hold of Conrad Stormont’s other son. If nothing else, he’d find out whether or n
ot Mark knew where his father was hiding out.

  He got up and went to find Dave. It was time for a trip to Leicester.

  Paolo shifted on the seat. It was one of the most uncomfortable he’d ever had the misfortune to sit on. He glanced across at Dave, also fidgeting in an effort to find a better position. Not only were the chairs hard, unyielding plastic, but they had to have been designed by a sadist. No one had a body shape which would fit into a seat that turned up at the sides and dipped at the front.

  The door opened and he was able to force his mind off his numb posterior and take in the scared face of a youth who was undoubtedly Danny’s brother. He was a year or two older, but his attitude was one of a kid much younger. He had that desperate to please look that came with spending time with other offenders. Some of the youths in detention were hardened criminals, had been since they could hold a knife. Mark looked more like a victim than an offender. Maybe Danny’s version of events was true after all.

  “Take a seat, Mark,” Paolo said. “I won’t tell you to make yourself comfortable because that’s impossible on these chairs.”

  Paolo had expected a smile at the very least, but Mark’s face looked, if anything, even more haunted.

  “Why am I here?” Mark said.

  “Do you mean why are you in this room, or why are you in the detention centre?”

  “Here, in this room. What have I done now?”

  He lifted his left hand and chewed at his thumb nail as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

  “I wanted to ask you a few questions about your dad.”

  “Carl’s not my dad, and I did take that parcel to Leicester for him without knowing what was in it, whatever he says.”

  “I believe you,” Paolo said, surprised to realise it was true.

  He made up his mind to see if he could at least get the boy moved to Bradchester under supervision. “It’s not Carl I want to ask you about, it’s your real dad. Have you seen him in the last year or so?”

  Conrad Stormont had proven so elusive, Paolo had virtually given up hope of anything other than a negative answer. He was astounded when Mark said yes.

  “It was about five months before…before I ended up in this mess. I thought I’d seen him earlier in the year. This man was staring at me. Or, maybe he wasn’t, but it felt like he was. At first I didn’t think of Dad, because he didn’t look the way I’d remembered him.”

  “If he didn’t look like your father, what made you think that’s who it was?”

  Mark shrugged. “I know this sounds mad, but it was the way he was standing. Sort of leaning a bit to one side and his hands in his pockets. I can’t explain it properly, but my brother stands in exactly the same way. That’s what made me think it was Dad. He reminded me of the way Danny stands.”

  Paolo thought back to earlier that day when Danny had been waiting for him and Katy to say their goodbyes. He had a vivid image of Danny’s stance and knew what Mark meant.

  “Did you approach the man?”

  Mark shook his head. “He was too far away. By the time it registered who he was, he’d gone.”

  “But then you saw him again?”

  “Yes. I was going into the train station and there was an argument between one of the porters and this bloke in a dirty tracksuit. I didn’t even realise at first it was the same man as before, but when he turned round I saw it was Dad. He was close enough this time that I could make out his face. He nodded as if he knew who I was, then turned and ran off towards town. I ran after him, but he dodged down a side street and when I got to the end of it, I couldn’t see him anywhere.”

  Paolo stood up and held out his hand. “Mark, I am going to try to get you moved to Bradchester. No promises, but I’ll do my best. Keep out of trouble in here in the meantime.”

  Mark’s bottom lip trembled. He reached out and grabbed Paolo’s hand. “Is there really a chance, sir?”

  “There should be if I vouch for you, but that won’t work unless you’ve got a clean record here. Okay? I’ll keep in touch.”

  In the car Paolo’s hands clenched and unclenched as he thought about Carl Hunt and the way he’d let the boy take the fall for his crime, but his real anger was at Mark’s mother. What sort of woman would believe someone like Carl over her own son? Whatever happened, Paolo vowed two things. He would get Mark a transfer and he’d watch and wait. One day, Carl Hunt would put a foot wrong. On that day, he’d find Paolo Storey standing right behind him with a pair of handcuffs ready for use.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Week five – Friday 22nd August to Thursday 28th August

  Paolo pulled into the railway station car park and turned off the ignition. He looked at the clock on the dashboard. Only nine-twenty. Jessica’s train wasn’t due for another twenty minutes, but he hadn’t wanted to take a chance on being late.

  He’d missed her more than he’d thought possible. From what she’d said on the phone, she felt the same way. He smiled. The thoughts in his head would be more at home in the mind of a teenager. Then again, why should teenagers have all the fun? He got out of the car and locked it. As he made his way to the main station entrance he remembered Mark’s comment from two days earlier. Was it really his dad he saw?

  Paolo had arranged for posters of Conrad Stormont to be put up all over town, but the only image they’d had of him to work on was ten years out of date. With Mark’s help, they had been able to enhance the image, but Paolo wasn’t certain it was close enough to do the job.

  Where had Stormont been living? More to the point, what had he been living on? He hadn’t drawn any benefits or paid taxes since he dropped out of sight, but if he was still alive and living in the area, he had to be getting money and food from somewhere. Paolo had checked with the shelter where Danny volunteered, but although a couple of drunks said the man in the picture owed them money, neither could say where they’d last seen him or when.

  He’d had a similar reaction at the other shelters. People thought they knew him, but couldn’t say where from or when they’d last seen him.

  And he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind that someone might be in danger tonight. The killer usually struck on a Friday for the body to be found on Saturday. But who would be the fifth victim? And why? Even if the killer was Stormont, they were no closer to getting inside the man’s head.

  Paolo’s musings came to an abrupt stop when he heard the sound of an approaching train. He rushed forward, down the stairs and along the tunnel to the far platform, climbing the flight up just in time to see the train come to a halt.

  He stood waiting, feeling for all the world like a kid at Christmas about to receive the present he’d been hoping for all year. As people alighted, his view of the platform was blocked by passengers eager to get home, or wherever they were headed for the night. Eventually he was able to get a clear sight along the platform and saw Jessica walking towards him, pulling her suitcase behind her.

  His mouth dried out, his feet weighed him down like lead and his chest felt as if it would explode, but somehow he managed to close the gap between them.

  When they finally broke apart, Jessica laughed.

  “Wow, if I’d known I was coming back to that, I’d have caught an earlier train.”

  Paolo took the handle of her bag in one hand and slipped his arm round her on his other side.

  “Have you eaten? We could go to the Italian place.”

  Jessica smiled and shook her head.

  “I’m hungry,” she said, “but not for food. You wanna come home with me?”

  Paolo’s heart fluttered so heavily it seemed to be full of moths dancing a tango.

  He grinned. “I think I could force myself to do that.”

  ***

  The pretender looked down at the sleeping man. Another step on his quest for justice. The man looked almost graceful in repose. The pretender laughed. Graceful – full of grace, how apt and how ironic. This one hadn’t required any planning. He’d simply had to follow the man and wait until he
passed out.

  He squatted on his haunches to make it easier to reach the man’s leg. As he depressed the plunger to send the liquid into the man’s system, his mind was already moving on to his final execution.

  He pulled an envelope from his pocket and placed it on the man’s chest. Five out of six dealt with. Only a week to go and then he would be face to face with the last name on his list.

  But before then, he had another one to exterminate. One whose name had never occurred to him until recently. One he’d always seen as a victim, but not anymore. Instead of six, there would be seven to suffer. He laughed again. Maybe that was a sign. One for every day of the week. Pity the extra one couldn’t go on a Friday like the rest, but he was determined to stick with his plan. Next Friday would be the last time he’d pretend to be someone he wasn’t. After his final execution he’d stand proudly and tell everyone who he was and why he’d killed the six who’d hurt him so badly. Plus the extra one. He needed to be taught a lesson before he died.

  In a way, he was now pleased Jessica Carter hadn’t been available for the day he’d originally planned for her. Having a woman as the final act in his tragedy now seemed so incredibly right that he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before. A female’s death to close the circle.

  Perfect.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Paolo opened his eyes and looked over at the bedside clock. Nine in the morning and no call from the station to say another victim had turned up. He gave a contented sigh and moved closer to Jessica, who was gently snoring next to him.

  He knew he should get up, get dressed and go home, but just lying here in the comfort of Jessica’s bed made him feel like a normal human being for once. He allowed himself the luxury of another hour in bed and promised he would then go into the station as he’d intended.

  Jessica gave a small moan and stirred. As her eyes fluttered open, she smiled.