Bad Moon Rising (#1 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  Paolo nodded. His vengeance could wait. He went back to the bed and looked down at his lovely Katy, battered beyond recognition. If it took Paolo the rest of his life, Matthew would pay for what he’d done.

  The paramedics seemed to take forever working on Katy. Not once did she appear to respond and Paolo, watching from the side of the room, too scared to move in case he somehow caused them to lose concentration, had to keep telling himself that she wasn’t dead.

  Dave tapped his arm and he jumped as if struck by a bolt of lightning.

  “Sir, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, but don’t you think you should let Katy’s mum know?”

  How could he have forgotten Lydia? She must be beside herself with worry. Hands trembling, he dialled her number and she answered within one ring.

  “Have you found her? Where is she?”

  “Lydia, Katy’s been attacked...”

  “She’s okay, though, isn’t she? Tell me she’s okay.”

  He opened his mouth, but couldn’t force out the words to tell Lydia just how bad things were.

  “Tell me, damn it!”

  “She’s going to be okay, but...”

  “But what?”

  “She’s in a bad way, Lydia. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. All my fault.”

  “I don’t need you to tell me that,” she spat. “Where is she?”

  “At the moment she’s being attended to by paramedics, but they’ll be taking her to the hospital soon. Do you want to meet me there?”

  “I don’t ever want to meet you anywhere ever again, but I want to see my daughter, so yes, I’ll be at the hospital. But I warn you, Paolo, I’ll never forgive you for this. Never.”

  The line went dead and Paolo felt again that sense of a freight train out of control running through him. The senior paramedic looked over, his expression grave.

  “Her condition is just about stable enough to move her now, but her injuries are very serious. I’ve already called ahead to let them know she needs immediate surgery. We’re ready to go. Will you follow or come in the ambulance with her?”

  Dave stepped forward. “Go with them, sir. I’ll take care of Roberts.”

  Paolo felt tears pricking his eyes. “Thanks, Dave.”

  He nodded to the paramedics and they carefully lifted the stretcher they’d manoeuvred under Katy’s body. As Paolo followed them out to the ambulance, Dave called after him.

  “Good luck, sir.”

  An image of his daughter’s shattered face came to his mind. “It isn’t me needing the luck, Dave, but thanks.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The ambulance ride passed in a blur. Every fibre of Paolo’s being was concentrating on willing Katy to keep breathing. The slightest beep from the equipment wired to her body sent him into fresh agonies of fear. He couldn’t lose her. Not his Katy.

  As soon as the ambulance stopped outside the hospital, the doors flew open and a team of doctors and nurses took over, wheeling Katy out of sight.

  Paolo grabbed one of the paramedics who was closing the ambulance doors.

  “Where are they taking her?”

  “Theatre. She needs urgent surgery on her face. I’m sorry; you must be going through hell.”

  Hell? It’s where I deserve to be for letting this happen.

  Inside the hospital he found the information desk and explained who he was. A kindly receptionist directed him to the third floor and told him to go to the waiting room. In a daze, Paolo followed her instructions and found Lydia being comforted by Jack. Paolo knew he should care, but he didn’t. Jealousy, regret, anger, anything would be better than this emptiness.

  He’d barely stepped into the room when Lydia launched herself at him and slapped his face.

  “You bastard! Katy said she’d be with you. Why the hell wasn’t she?”

  Paolo didn’t have the strength to defend himself.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry? You’re sorry? If Katy dies...” She broke off and brushed away her tears. “If Katy dies, you and your precious job will have killed both my babies.”

  Jack stood and put his arm around Lydia. “Come and sit down. You don’t mean that, Lydia.”

  She shrugged him off. “Don’t I?” she spat. “Ask him why Sarah died. Ask him who the driver was aiming for. Go on, ask him.” She turned back to Paolo. “Your job killed Sarah and we both know it. Now it’s going to kill Katy.”

  Paolo said nothing. There was nothing he could say because he knew Lydia was right. As Jack led her back to the seats on the far side of the room, the sound of her sobbing brought back all too clearly the day he’d had to tell her about Sarah’s death. The driver had been aiming for him, but Sarah had seen the car and pushed him clear just in time. As he’d fallen, Paolo had heard the sound of metal hitting flesh. By the time he got to his feet the car had reversed. He shuddered, remembering the way Sarah’s body had been dragged along under the car as the driver accelerated away.

  Two hours of silence later Paolo looked up as the door opened, praying it was the doctor to say Katy was out of danger, but Dave hovered and waved to Paolo to follow him out.

  “I just came by to see how Katy’s doing. What have the doctors said?”

  “Nothing yet,” Paolo said. “She’s still in the operating theatre. I keep telling myself she’ll be okay, but I’m not sure I believe it.”

  “How’s her mum holding up?”

  Paolo shrugged. “About as well as me. Until Katy’s out of surgery we won’t know what sort of damage that bastard inflicted. Tell me you’ve got him securely locked up? You haven’t come to tell me you’ve let him go?”

  Dave shook his head. “No chance of that. He’s locked up tight. Would you like me to stay here with you? You look rough.”

  Paolo managed a smile. “No, you go on home. I’m fine.”

  He watched Dave leave and then braced himself to go back into the waiting room, but this time Lydia didn’t even look up. She was asleep with her head resting on Jack’s shoulder. Jack gave him a questioning look, but Paolo shook his head – still no news on Katy.

  He slipped back onto the chair he’d vacated earlier. He had a direct view of the door, and the frosted glass windows filling the upper half of the wall enabled him to see if anyone came down the corridor from the direction of the theatre.

  An hour and a half later his vigil was rewarded. The door opened and a tired looking man in a white coat came in. As Paolo leapt to his feet, Jack woke Lydia. She opened her eyes and gave a sleepy smile.

  “Mmm, where am... what are we... Oh, God, Katy!”

  She jumped up, reaching the doctor seconds after Paolo.

  He wanted to ask so many questions, but his throat seemed to be full of cotton wool and the words wouldn’t come out. Lydia appeared to have the same affliction, because her lips moved, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Mr and Mrs Storey?” They nodded. “I’m Doctor Blanchard, Katy’s surgeon. The injuries to her face were extensive. We’ve performed reconstructive surgery on her cheekbones, nose and jaw. She also has several broken ribs and has suffered severe trauma to her upper body, including fractures to the radius and ulna on her left arm.”

  Paolo finally managed to get his throat working. “She’s going to be okay? She’s going to live?”

  “Yes. She’s a healthy young woman and should make a full recovery.”

  “Can I see her?” Lydia asked.

  He nodded. “You won’t be able to go into the room, but you can look in from the outside. She’s in ICU.”

  “Intensive care? Why? You said she’ll make a full recovery,” Lydia said.

  The doctor gave a sympathetic smile. “She should, but as I said, her injuries were severe. We’re keeping her in ICU until her condition stabilises. After you’ve seen her tonight I suggest you go home and get some rest. You should be able to talk to her tomorrow.” He looked at his watch. “Or rather, later today.”

  Jack came and stood
next to Lydia, putting his arm round her. “Let’s go to ICU. What’s the earliest time we can come back?”

  “I suggest phoning after eight. The nurse on duty will let you know how Katy is and tell you when to come in.”

  Lydia and Jack shook the doctor’s hand. She left without saying goodbye or glancing in Paolo’s direction, but Jack turned and nodded farewell.

  Paolo held his hand out, but the doctor closed the door and pointed to the chairs.

  “Do you mind if we sit for a while? I’m exhausted.”

  Paolo dropped into a chair. “No, not at all. You’ve got something to say to me? Something you didn’t want Katy’s mother to hear? Is she worse than you said?”

  “No, don’t worry; it’s nothing to do with Katy’s condition. I simply wanted to ask you about the police report. I would normally forward it to you, but as you’re also the father of the victim, should it be sent to someone else?”

  Paolo thought about having to read in precise detail what Roberts had inflicted on Katy and his stomach heaved. Words from the autopsy reports on the other victims danced in his mind. A few minutes later and Katy’s injuries would have been in an autopsy report, not a surgeon’s. As much as he didn’t want to read it, he knew he had to. Not doing so wasn’t fair to Katy.

  “Send it to me. Thank you for not asking in front of Lydia.”

  “No problem,” the doctor said. He stood and held out his hand. “I’m off to get some sleep. I strongly advise you to do the same. You look as if just standing upright is more than your body can take.”

  “It is,” Paolo agreed, shaking the doctor’s hand. “I have one last question. I know it’ll be in your report, but I need to know before I read it. Was she... was Katy... did that bastard...”

  “Sexual assault?” Doctor Blanchard finished for him. “No, there was no sign of vaginal trauma.”

  Relief flooded Paolo’s body and his legs gave way. He collapsed onto a chair.

  ***

  Paolo barely slept. All through the night, images of Katy connected to tubes and support machines had appeared each time he closed his eyes. He looked at the clock for perhaps the hundredth time, only to find that it was only just after six. Realising that he wouldn’t sleep regardless of how hard he tried, he got up and showered. That took the time to six-thirty, still an hour and a half too early to call the hospital. Having too much time on his hands and nothing to stop his mind from dwelling on how close Katy came to death, Paolo did what he always did when life became too hard to bear – he went to work.

  He had just dialled the hospital’s number when Dave came in. Signalling for him to sit, Paolo waited to be put through to the right person and then explained who he was and asked about Katy.

  “She’s comfortable,” the sister said. “Her condition improved during the night.”

  “Her condition’s improved?” he repeated, hardly daring to believe he’d heard correctly. “Can I see her? I mean, actually go in the room?”

  “Yes, but not this morning. The doctor’s advice is to leave visiting until later today. I’d suggest coming in this afternoon. Say about two?”

  Paolo agreed and shut off the call. He felt as if all his bones had turned to liquid. Funny, he’d thought relief would give him strength, instead it seemed to have sapped the little he’d had left.

  “Are you okay, sir? You don’t look too good. Not bad news about Katy, I hope.”

  Paolo forced himself to sit upright. “No, good news, actually. I’m fine, Dave. Just tired. You wanted to see me about something?”

  Dave looked so uncomfortable, Paolo’s heart dropped. What now?

  “It’s Roberts, sir. He, er, he wants to see you.”

  “Does he? Well he can go to hell. I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off him.”

  Dave fidgeted with a paperclip he’d picked up from Paolo’s desk. “You’re not going to like me saying this, but I think you should see him.”

  Anger closed Paolo’s throat, but he forced the words out. “You do, do you? And why’s that? So that he can tell me he thinks my daughter’s a whore? Fuck that.”

  Dave didn’t answer.

  “Okay, spit it out. Why do you think I should see him?”

  “Because he’s waived his right to legal representation and says he’ll explain about Sean Andrews, but only to you. He won’t speak to anyone but you.”

  “Why?”

  “He won’t say. Just keeps repeating that you are the only one he’ll talk to.”

  “Dave, I’m not sure I can trust myself. You saw what the bastard did to Katy. I bet this is some trick to get me to attack him so that he can claim we beat a confession out of him.”

  “I know, sir, I thought so too, but I’ll be there with you and we can have a couple of uniform in the room as well. I promise I won’t let you touch him, no matter what he does.”

  Paolo nodded and got to his feet. “Come on, then, before I change my mind.”

  Matthew smiled at Paolo when he entered the interrogation room. Paolo had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from lashing out.

  He sat down, glad the table was between him and Matthew. He flicked the switch on the recorder.

  “DI Storey interviewing Matthew Roberts, who has waived his right to legal representation. Also present are DS Johnson and constables Beech and Smith.”

  He finished by giving the date and time, then looked up at Matthew. “Where is Sean Andrews?”

  “Don’t you want to know about my work,” Matthew asked. “God’s love covers me. I’m doing his will.”

  Paolo couldn’t tell if Matthew was deliberately goading him, but was determined to keep his temper.

  “Tell God you’ve officially retired. Where’s Sean? Are you two in this together?”

  “Are you mad?” Matthew spat. “God would never have entrusted his sacred work to someone like Sean. I dealt with him as God wanted.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Matthew laughed. “It means Sean is dead. There’s no need to swear, Paolo. Sean was not worthy of God’s love. He tried to blackmail me.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s in a very peaceful place.”

  “Skip the riddles, Matthew. Where is he?”

  “When you find him, you’ll be at peace,” Matthew said and laughed again, more of a giggle this time. Paolo wondered how much of an act Matthew was putting on.

  “Did you kill your natural mother?”

  “I killed a whore. Sean contacted me and told me our so-called mother was a whore. The bitch wanted me to touch her. Can you imagine that? I went to see her and she wanted to fuck. I killed a whore who was so wasted on drugs she didn’t even know I was her son. She touched me, Paolo. She made me want to defile my body. Jesus told me to kill her.”

  “Christ, Matthew, all you had to do was walk away.”

  Matthew laughed again. “You’re so holier than thou, always have been. Even more self-righteous than Greg, and that’s saying something. He knew about my work. Did you know that? He kept on at me to stop, but how could I when God Himself told me who to save?”

  “Greg knew?”

  “Of course, I told him in confession. Not because I wanted forgiveness, I hadn’t done anything I needed to confess, but I wanted him to know how close I was to the Lord. You know Greg started hanging out with the prostitutes? Trying to keep them from me. The idiot thought he could stop God’s work. But I had him removed.”

  “What do you mean, removed? He’s in rehab.”

  Matthew laughed again. “Who do you think told his superiors that he was a troubled soul who needed help with his demons? He was back on drugs, Paolo. I did him a favour getting him sent to rehab, but I can’t take the credit for the idea. Jesus told me how to get rid of Greg. When you’ve got the son of God on your side, everything is easy.

  “Did you know where I found your daughter, Paolo? On the streets. I wonder how long she’d been a whore. You never guessed, did you? Of course, she sa
id she was only there looking for Greg, but the Lord told me she was a liar.”

  Paolo didn’t trust himself to answer.

  “I tried to save her soul for you, Paolo. For old time’s sake. I couldn’t let your daughter fuck for money, now could I?”

  Paolo stood so quickly his chair flew backwards. He had never wanted to kill before, but now he wanted to wipe Matthew from the face of the earth. Dave jumped up and moved in front of him, blocking his view of the scum on the other side of the table. Paolo sidestepped, determined to get to Matthew, but then he saw the bastard smirk. His head pounded, but he couldn’t give in to his rage. Don’t give him what he wants, the tiny sane part of his brain that was still functioning told him.

  Pull yourself together.

  Taking a deep breath, he forced his anger under control.

  “Sorry, Matthew, that won’t work. You’re not getting me to lay a finger on you.”

  Matthew’s smile faded, leaving disappointment in its place. The change in Matthew’s expression told Paolo he’d guessed correctly.

  “This interview is terminated,” he said and flipped the switch to stop recording.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  A week later, Paolo sat at his desk staring into space, thinking how strange life could be. Everything seemed to turn on luck in the end. If Leanna hadn’t decided to add her name to the genetic trial; if she had never dated Matthew Roberts; if she hadn’t been a close friend of Barbara’s; if Sean Andrews hadn’t tried to blackmail Matthew Roberts – so many ifs. How would things have turned out if even one of those things hadn’t happened? But the most important if of all: if only he’d told Katy about Greg’s call she would never have gone looking for him. Never have fallen into Matthew’s clutches.

  Physically she was out of danger, but mentally? She hadn’t communicated with anyone since coming round from the operation. Not that she was able to speak with her jaw wired, but she wouldn’t even make eye contact. He and Lydia took turns sitting with her, but Katy wouldn’t look at either of them. She stared up at the ceiling in her own private world, keeping everyone else out. Even when the nurses came in to check her vital signs, or wash her, she stared at the ceiling. Forcing back the tears that always seemed to be on the verge of falling these days, he picked up the phone and dialled the number Doctor Blanchard had given him.