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

by Frances di Plino

  “Jessica Carter’s practice.”

  “Could I speak to Ms Carter, please? DI Storey speaking. She’s expecting my call.”

  He waited a few seconds and then heard the psychologist’s voice. “Detective Inspector Storey? Doctor Blanchard said you’d be calling. He’s filled me in on Katy’s recent trauma. I understand you’d like me to assess your daughter.”

  “I don’t want you to assess her; I want you to help her, if you can.”

  “Yes, of course, but first I need to get some personal background information. Would it be possible for you and Mrs Storey to come to my rooms this afternoon? Say four o’clock?”

  Paolo scribbled down the time. “I can make it, but I don’t know about my wife. We’re separated. Can I find out from her and call you back?”

  “Of course. Let my secretary know if either of you are unable to make it. She’ll reschedule. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume you can both make the appointment.”

  Paolo thanked her and cut the call. Dreading it, but knowing he couldn’t put it off, he dialled Lydia’s number.

  “What do you want?” she said as soon as she answered.

  “The psychologist Doctor Blanchard recommended wants to meet us this afternoon.”

  “Fine. What time?”

  “Four o’clock. Lydia, I...”

  “I don’t want to talk. Just give me the address.”

  He’d barely finished telling her when the line went dead. She hadn’t spoken to him since the night Katy had been admitted. He didn’t blame her for hating him, but it hurt hearing the loathing in her voice.

  Five minutes later a knock on his door brought a welcome end to the thoughts running in circles; he’d been feeling as though his head might explode.

  Barbara stood watching him. The compassion on her face almost broke his self-control, but he forced himself to stay focussed on the investigation.

  “Come in, Barbara. I hope you’ve come with some solid information.”

  She sat down opposite him. “How’s Katy? Any change?”

  He shook his head and fortunately Barbara seemed to understand how he felt, because she changed the subject, answering the question he’d posed.

  “I’ve got so much information for you,” she said. “I hardly know where to start. Firstly, you’ll be pleased to know that the hair we took from Matthew Roberts matches the semen DNA found on all the victims.”

  Paolo sighed. “Barbara, I know you’ve explained it once already, but can you give me the layman’s version so that I can get my head round it? How the hell can Matthew have two sets of DNA? I’m sorry; it just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  Barbara smiled. “I can understand that, Paolo. It’s quite rare, or at least we used to think it was, but now we’re not so sure. Okay, here’s what happens. It comes from something called ‘Vanishing Twin Syndrome’ and means basically that a mother has two fertilised eggs, which would normally result in non-identical twins. The non-identical part’s important because identical twins share the same DNA. You with me so far?”

  Paolo nodded. “I understand non-identical twins have different DNA, but not how one person has both.”

  “I know, this is the technical part. The two non-identical embryos fuse into one early in the pregnancy. One embryo literally absorbs the other and the mother gives birth to only one child. The baby has two different cell types, some of the organs have the living child’s set of DNA and the other organs have the missing twin’s DNA. Not only that, but hair, for example, can have one set of DNA and saliva the other. Or semen one and blood another. Both sets are spread around the body.”

  Paolo thought about what he’d just heard. He understood more now, but it still seemed pretty off the wall. “But wouldn’t that lead to health issues? I mean, in effect, the living twin has foreign matter in his body. Why isn’t it rejected?”

  “We assume it’s because it happens at embryo stage. Because there are no physical problems, either at birth or later in life, usually the person isn’t even aware of it. Matthew might never have found out if he hadn’t attended the test that day in university.”

  Paolo pushed the papers on his desk to one side, searching for a file. When he found it, he flipped quickly through the pages until he found what he needed and passed the file to Barbara.

  “I’ve been doing some checking into the hit and run accident that killed the geneticist. I can’t prove it, but the report says he was knocked down by a car very similar to the one Matthew drives. Look at the eyewitness descriptions of the driver.”

  Barbara read for a few minutes and then looked up. “It does sound remarkably like Matthew. Pity none of the witnesses thought to take down the number plate. Why would he want the guy dead though? I mean, why now after all these years?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that, Barbara. I think Sean getting in touch and telling him about their mother sent Matthew over the edge. His adopted mother, Mrs Roberts, was a first-class bitch. From what I can make out, she instilled one of the great Catholic myths into him from a very early age, which was that sex is wicked. Apparently she lived and died a virgin – refused to have sex even after marriage.”

  Barbara sat up straighter. “You have got to be joking. You said they were married for decades.”

  Paolo smiled. “Apparently Mr Roberts senior used to get what he needed from prostitutes and Mrs Roberts eventually found out. Matthew told Dave he used to listen to the arguments, which always ended up with Mrs Roberts screaming about how truly evil prostitutes were. She used to get so worked up she needed to be sedated to stop the hysteria.”

  “That must have been a difficult house to grow up in,” Barbara said. “No wonder he’s messed up.”

  “You’re not kidding. From other things Matthew told Dave during their last interview, I have a feeling she might have been completely deranged where sex was concerned. Anyway, it seems that finding out his own birth mother was a prostitute was bad enough, but apparently when he went to see her she was too far gone on drugs to realise who he was and thought he was a trick. It must have been more than his mind could cope with. Add to that his knowledge of being, in effect, two people, plus a lifelong friendship with Azzopardi who treated prostitutes like cattle, it’s not surprising he lost his marbles.”

  “You think he’s really off his head?”

  Paolo sighed. “I don’t know. I think he killed Jed Lawrence, his old university pal, after he’d killed Sean. At that stage he must have been at least partially sane because he wiped out Sean who knew his birth mother and Jed Lawrence, the only person who knew about his genetic makeup.”

  Barbara nodded. “I suppose that makes sense – as much as anything makes sense with Matthew Roberts. I mean, how do you think he reconciled the good work he did on all those committees and charities with being a killer?”

  “His psychologist tried to explain this, but I’m not sure I get it. Apparently Matthew really thinks even now that he’s two people. Not a split personality as such, but he believes he has the bad twin inside him, or the good twin, depending on how you look at things. Anyway, the good twin tries to make up for the bad one and the bad one wants to destroy the good one. Not sure if he still does, but apparently he believed that Jesus walked at his side through all this, so he never expected to get caught. On the other hand, I think he left the DNA behind to put the blame on Sean should he ever need to cover his tracks.” He forced a smile. “Which begs the question: why would you need to cover your tracks if Jesus was there to protect you with a miracle whenever you needed one?”

  “Phew, and I thought I had issues!” Barbara said. “He’s sick, sick, sick. Right, on to the next bit of news, although it’s not really any surprise. The remains found in the cottage garden under the peace rose are definitely those of Sean Andrews.”

  Paolo shrugged. “As you say, no big surprise there. We’ve had feedback from Liverpool. Matthew’s fingerprints have matched those found on some of Sean’s possessions. We can’t be sure, but it
seems that he met with Sean, then went on his own to visit his real mother Catherine Andrews, presumably to find out the truth. She came on to him, which freaked him out, and he killed her. Then he called Sean and arranged to meet him. It appears that he brought Sean down to his cottage and strangled him.

  “As for Sean Andrews, he must have thought all his Christmases and birthdays had come at once when he spotted Matthew on television and saw how alike they were.”

  Barbara looked up from the files she’d been studying. “You think Sean contacted Matthew intending to extort money to keep quiet about their birth mother?”

  “That’s what Matthew claims. If there had been another reason, I don’t suppose we’ll ever find out what it was.”

  Barbara rose. “You’re most probably right.” She walked over to the door, paused and looked back. “Oh, by the way, Sharon called me yesterday. She and Larry are going to marriage guidance counselling and Larry is starting anger management classes. It seems that a visit from an old school friend made him rethink his life. Thank you for stepping in. I’d hoped that you would, but didn’t want to push it. What did you say to him, Paolo, or is it a secret?”

  Paolo thought back over the threats he’d made to Larry, both spoken and implied, and shrugged. “I just suggested he might like to make a few life changes – and that I’d be dropping by from time to time to see how Sharon was getting on.”

  “Whatever it was you said, it’s worked like a charm. Sharon is convinced he’s transformed into Mr Nice Guy. Me, I’m not so sure he’s capable of it, but we’ll see. If he keeps his fists to himself I can most probably put up with him being a jerk in other ways. Sharon loves him, God knows why. I don’t want to lose her friendship, so I’ll pretend I don’t mind his smutty comments. Men! There isn’t one of you who isn’t a pain in the proverbial arse,” she finished with a grin.

  Paolo managed to smile back, but it was an effort. He stood up. He had a meeting with the chief in half an hour and needed a coffee fix before then. Barbara hesitated in the doorway, then closed the door and came back. Standing next to him, she rested her hand on his arm.

  “Paolo, if there is anything I can do, anything at all, just call. I know you must be going through hell right now.”

  Emotion welled up. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t even see as the tears he’d been holding back flooded. She opened her arms and he walked into them, put his head on her shoulder and wept.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Paolo took a deep breath and nodded to Dave. He was ready. Matthew was brought into the room and made to sit down. Paolo waited until the prisoner’s handcuffs were attached to the chair, then flipped the switch on the recorder and stated the date, time and who was in the room. When he’d finished, he looked up and locked eyes with Matthew.

  “This interview is taking place at the request of Matthew Roberts, who has, once again, waived his right to legal representation. Mr Roberts, would you please confirm this to be correct?”

  “It is. How are you, Paolo? And how is Katy?”

  Paolo kept his hands under the desk. He didn’t want Matthew to see he’d touched him on the raw.

  “Say what you’ve got to say, Matthew. Let’s get it over with.”

  “Apparently I’m insane, Paolo. My psychologist is going to recommend a spell in a secure psychiatric unit. He seems to think I can be cured. I simply wanted you to know that I wouldn’t be averse to receiving a visit from you occasionally.”

  “Very funny, Matthew. CPS doesn’t think the same way about your sanity. I heard this morning they’re going to prosecute. They think you’re sane. You’d better hope your shrink is up to the job of convincing a jury otherwise.”

  Matthew’s smile faltered, but he recovered. “He’s the best money can buy. But let’s not talk about the trial and what might happen in the future; let’s talk about now and your lovely Katy. I’ve heard on the grapevine that she isn’t talking. That’s going to make it difficult for her to tell her tricks how much she charges.”

  Paolo’s body went rigid. Rage made his head throb. He was on the verge of lashing out when Dave touched his arm. Paolo glanced at Dave and nodded. He waited until he had his emotions back under control. He knew just how to deal with Matthew.

  “It’s an interesting theory, Matthew, claiming insanity. It might have worked, too, except that you refined your act after killing your birth mother. You see, you made sure you never left any evidence behind apart from the semen which we think you’d known since your university days wouldn’t match your saliva or blood.”

  Matthew shrugged. “You can’t prove that.”

  “No, but we can prove that you killed Sean.”

  “While my mind was unbalanced due to the shock of finding out about our whore mother.”

  Paolo allowed a smile to escape. “That might have worked if you’d killed him in a fit in Liverpool and dumped his body up there, but you didn’t. You brought him down here, strangled him, and buried his body in the cottage garden.”

  Paolo tapped the file in front of him. “You did that so Sean would never be found and could always be blamed if you needed a scapegoat – that action alone blows the insanity plea. One other thing, I couldn’t figure out for a long time why you gave the voluntary DNA sample. Then I realised it was because you knew it would appear to be a sibling’s. Killing Sean was a calculated act, Matthew, whether you admit it or not. A rational, calculated act that is going to get you put away for a very long time. And no, I won’t be coming to visit you in prison.”

  Matthew lunged forward, but the handcuffs prevented him from rising.

  “I think we’re done here,” Paolo said. “This interview is terminated.”

  ***

  Paolo arrived at the psychologist’s rooms nearly twenty minutes early, but the receptionist said Lydia had already been waiting for ten minutes. He wasn’t surprised. He also wanted to get this part over with so that Katy could get the help she needed. The receptionist directed him to the waiting room, where he found Lydia, staring into space. She glanced over at him as he entered, but quickly looked away and snatched up a motorsport magazine from a side table next to her chair. She seemed to find the content fascinating, because she didn’t look up again.

  Knowing how much she hated anything to do with motor racing, Paolo took her interest as a sign that anything was preferable to talking to him. Sighing, he sat on the other side of the room and waited for Jessica Carter to call them in. Not wanting to read about flower arranging, golf or hiking, the only subjects available on the table next to his chair, Paolo looked around the room, trying to get a mental image of the woman they were to meet. Judging from the pastel shades and old-fashioned watercolours on the walls, he imagined someone in their late fifties, maybe wearing tweeds and with a pair of glasses suspended from her neck. Her voice on the phone had been ageless, she could have been any age from twenty to sixty, but if this decor was anything to go by, she’d be closer to the upper age.

  Finally the door opened and Paolo realised his guess had been way off. The woman smiling and inviting them to enter her office couldn’t have been any older than early thirties. Short dark hair stood up in a spiky style that suited her elfin features. There were a few laugh lines around the most vivid blue eyes Paolo could remember seeing. She was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. All in all, she was nowhere near what he’d been expecting, but he could imagine Katy warming to her. No wonder Doctor Blanchard had recommended her.

  “Please come in.”

  Paolo allowed Lydia to go in first, then followed and sat in the chair next to her.

  “Doctor Blanchard has given me details on Katy’s medical condition, but if I’m to help her, I need some background on how she came to be in hospital.”

  “Ask him,” Lydia said.

  Jessica turned her attention to Paolo.

  “What she’s saying is that it’s my fault. What happened to Katy was my fault. She got involved in one of my cases and ended up in hospital. Lydia’s right.”
<
br />   Jessica opened a pad. “Okay, let’s take things from the beginning. I’d like to start with some insight into Katy’s personality before this happened and we’ll go on from there.”

  ***

  Paolo went straight from the psychologist’s to the hospital, giving Lydia chance to go home for a couple of hours to rest. He sat next to Katy’s bed, trying to convince himself that Jessica Carter would be able to help her, but right now he wasn’t sure anyone could break through the barrier Katy had erected. She stared at the ceiling, not acknowledging in any way that he was in the room. He forced himself to keep talking, keep telling her about his life, her school, anything that might spark some interest and bring her back from wherever her mind had gone.

  “So, let’s see, what else can I tell you about? I’ve finished painting your room, so when you’re out of hospital it’ll be ready for you any time you want to visit. I expect you’ll want to change the colour scheme, but that’s fine. We can do that.”

  He watched her as he spoke, praying for a flicker of interest, but there was none.

  “Anyway, most of my boxes are unpacked now...”

  He broke off as the door opened and Lydia looked in.

  “I want to speak to you,” she hissed and then closed the door.

  “Your mum’s here, Katy. She wants to chat to me, but then after that I expect she’ll be coming to sit with you.” He reached down and dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead. “See you tomorrow, kiddo.”

  Lydia was waiting for him in the corridor. She nodded at him, then walked off to the waiting room. He followed and shut the door behind him. Looking at her face, this was going to be yet another conversation he’d rather not have.

  “Paolo, I’ve gone over and over everything we talked about in the psychologist’s today. I know I’m never going to be able to forgive you for what’s happened to Katy, but I realised this afternoon that for Katy’s sake I’ve got to find a way to be in the same room with you without wanting to lash out all the time.”