The Killer's Girl: A completely nail-biting crime thriller (Detective Morgan Brookes Book 2)

by Helen Phifer

The journey to Manchester had taken a little longer than usual as the roadworks on the M6 slowed everything down to a crawl. As Ben finally turned the car into Southall Street, he looked for the nearest car park. For some reason Morgan felt uneasy. She’d never visited a prison before. The journey down had been a flurry of hands-free phone calls between Amy, Ben and the DCI discussing updates.

  ‘We’ll have to walk from here. There’s no visitor car park.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Make sure you have your ID on you or they won’t let you in, even though you’re with me. They’re strict about everything even the dress code. If visitors turn up wearing low-fitting tops or skirts that are too short, they don’t let them in. I bet they must be gutted if they travelled a long distance to come see the love of their lives.’

  ‘I suppose it makes sense. I can understand why.’ She was glad she was wearing a trouser suit and shirt.

  She let Ben do the talking once they reached the entrance. This was a chance for her to learn something new and fascinating. As they were let in through the doors to the security office, she wondered if she should have declined coming, if Amy with her harsh attitude would have been more suited to a prison visit with a convicted killer and rapist. Ben nudged her and she realised he wanted her ID. She lifted the lanyard over her head and placed it on the counter for the guard to study. Then they were being led through a maze of corridors and security gates to a room which didn’t look much different to the interview rooms at the station, only it was bigger. The guard pointed to the chairs.

  ‘Take a seat, they’ve gone to get him.’

  Ben sat down. His feet in front of him, he crossed his legs. Morgan sat next to him, bolt upright, her feet flat on the floor and her hands crossed in her lap.

  Ben whispered: ‘It’s okay, relax. There’re cameras everywhere and he’ll be handcuffed. He can’t do anything.’

  She looked at him. ‘Oh, I’m not afraid of him. It’s just, I feel like a fish out of water. I’ve never seen the inside of a prison, except for on the television.’

  He smiled. ‘It’s a bit of an eye opener, but at least you’re seeing it first-hand.’

  The heavy, metal door scraped open and they both looked to see Gary Marks being led in. He was flanked either side by a prison guard. His hands were cuffed in front of him. He shuffled towards the chair. After what seemed like for ever he was finally seated. Ben nodded to the guards.

  ‘Gary, I’m not going to mess around. I’m DS Ben Matthews and this is my colleague DC Morgan Brookes. I need to talk to you about an ongoing investigation that you might be able to help us with. Is that okay? Are you going to give us any trouble?’

  Gary Marks looked at Ben, then turned his gaze to Morgan, letting it linger on her. He smiled.

  ‘Nope, no trouble from me. I’m a model prisoner. Isn’t that right, Jason?’

  He turned to the guard nearest to him.

  ‘You are.’

  Ben nodded. ‘Good, glad to hear it. Do you want to uncuff his hands?’

  The guard shook his head, whilst looking at Morgan.

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir, not with the present company.’

  Gary was grinning at Morgan, who looked him directly in the eye, determined not to back down, but the fact that the guard thought he was still a danger to women after all this time didn’t go amiss on her.

  ‘Ah, apologies. I didn’t think.’

  ‘Don’t you worry, boss. They think I’m going to jump right over the table and ravage your very pretty detective. It’s been some time since I’ve had the pleasure of such lovely, attractive company. But despite what you may have heard about me, I’m not a complete animal. So let’s cut to the chase. We could spin this out for some time so I get to appreciate my visitors, but I’m due my exercise session in thirty minutes, and my hour-long walk around the yard in the fresh air is the only thing that keeps me sane. I won’t miss it no matter how much temptation you offer me.’

  Morgan felt a spark of anger ignite inside her chest. Is that why she was here? Bait, to lure him to talk. She carried on watching Marks, too angry to even look Ben’s way.

  ‘I wouldn’t expect you to, Gary, and Detective Brookes is not here as a bargaining chip. I’ll be honest with you, I’m confused. I have a serious crime scene back in Rydal Falls and the forensics came back as a match for your DNA. Can you help me understand how that could have happened?’

  Gary, who had been leaning forward, his elbows on the desk, smiled, pushed himself back and crossed his legs. ‘You know, I honestly can’t. I’ve been a bit incarcerated, in case you didn’t notice. I’d love a chance to revisit my home town. It’s been so long since I got to stroll along the riverbank. I’d like to have a wander around for old times’ sake.’

  His gaze fell back on Morgan. She stared back at him. He leant forward.

  ‘You know, you remind me of someone. Have we met? Did you work here before you decided to become a copper?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Where do you live? Maybe I knew your momma.’ He was laughing at his own joke, and she found herself feeling more confused than ever. How could he recognise her?

  Ben stepped in. ‘Have you been out on day release at any time in the past week?’

  ‘That’s a definite no. I haven’t been outside of these walls since my trial.’

  ‘Do you have any family in Rydal Falls, a brother, cousin, son?’

  ‘I don’t believe so. I had an older sister; she’s probably dead by now. I haven’t heard from her in years. She doesn’t do prison visits.’

  ‘Have you ever given a sample of your DNA to an inmate which they could have planted at a crime scene intentionally?’

  Morgan tore her gaze away from Gary to look at Ben; as horrible as his crimes were, she found Gary intriguing. He was charming in a strange way and still a good-looking man for his age.

  ‘That’s not my style, boss. I don’t go giving away my most prized possession. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can tell you. This has nothing to do with me. Have you considered that you might have come here on a bit of a wild-goose chase? That wherever you send your forensic samples could have fucked up?’ He smiled at Morgan. ‘Pardon my language.’

  Ben shook his head. ‘I have and I’ve been assured it’s not possible.’

  ‘Well then, boss, you have a bit of a problem and there’s nothing I can do to help. It was nice to meet you, even nicer to meet you, Detective Brookes. Your hair is such a pretty colour. It matches your eyes and you really look good in that suit. It’s a nice cut, very flattering.

  ‘Guard, I’m done here.’

  The guard looked at Ben, who nodded. Gary stood up. Despite his age, he was still an imposing figure. He must use the gym to keep fit because he didn’t have the physique of someone who had given up like some lifers did. He shuffled out of the room and didn’t look back.

  They stood up as another guard came in to take them to the exit.

  She asked: ‘Did you get the answers you need?’

  Ben shook his head.

  ‘That’s a shame. I’m surprised he talked to you. He doesn’t talk much; he rarely gets visitors. So to see him interacting like that with you on the monitor was quite unexpected. I had a fiver bet he’d clam up and not say a word. He must have really liked you.’

  She laughed as she looked at Morgan, who couldn’t speak. She was furious with Ben and wasn’t sure what to do about it. She had the grace to know that this was not the time or the place to make it known. They signed out and walked back to the car in silence.

  Once they were inside where no one could hear, Ben asked: ‘What’s wrong?’

  She turned and stared at him. ‘What’s wrong?’ She shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘Yes, what’s wrong?’

  ‘I was bait. You used me. You took me because you thought he might open up more to a woman more his victims’ age.’

  She began to search on her phone, loading Google. Holding the screen towards him,
she showed images of the Riverside Rapist’s victims: one had shoulder-length dark hair; two of them were redheads. ‘I fit his profile, so you used me to get him to talk and don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you didn’t. That’s probably why he thinks I look familiar. Until he walked into that room twenty minutes ago, I’d never set eyes on him.’

  ‘I didn’t, not intentionally. I thought this would be good experience for you and that I’d know where you were and that you were safe whilst I was here, and as for recognising you, that’s easy. Your face was all over the newspapers and news. He may be in prison, but he’s a lifer: they get access to the television and papers. I bet he lapped it all up: the Potters’ and O’Briens’ murders, he was winding you up. Trying to get under your skin. What else does he have to do? It doesn’t mean anything.’

  Determined not to turn this into a full-blown argument, she put her phone away, crossed her arms and turned to stare out of the window.

  ‘Do you want to go get some lunch?’

  ‘No.’

  Ben shrugged. ‘Suit yourself, you can wait in the car whilst I do. I’m starving.’

  He drove until he found a McDonald’s. Parking up he went inside, leaving Morgan sitting there. She had no idea what was going on with her, or why she was so angry with Ben, and she was frustrated that this trip hadn’t got them any closer to catching Gabby’s killer. Closing her eyes, she began to breathe deeply, calming herself down.

  By the time he came back to the car with a huge grease-spotted bag and two coffees, she felt a little better. He got inside and passed her a burger. She wanted to tell him to shove it where the sun didn’t shine, but it smelt so good that she took it from him.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I’ve been thinking, it has to be a family match. I’m pretty sure he had a kid, although they would have only been a baby when it happened; but you know, it might be hereditary.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Being a sick bastard. We need to be looking into his family and relations. I don’t think the lab screwed up at all.’

  He phoned Amy and asked her to begin the process of intelligence checking Gary Marks and his associates, relations. When they finished eating, he set off driving.

  Morgan couldn’t stop thinking about Gary Marks and the horrendous crimes he’d committed. Yet he hadn’t come across as a monster; in fact, he’d been quite the opposite.

  THIRTY

  As they reached the A591, Morgan retrieved her police radio from her bag and turned it on. Ben was having a hands-free conversation with Darcy about Morgan’s text messages.

  ‘Good news is we’ve triangulated the area where the messages were sent from. Well, it’s a three-kilometre area but still. Bad news is the location: it’s basically in the middle of the A590, somewhere between Newby Bridge and High Newton.’

  ‘Crap, the houses are spread out far and wide.’

  ‘My best suggestion is that you do an intel check on anyone with a criminal record that might fit the parameters of the case who lives in that area.’

  ‘Yes, that’s mine too. Thanks, Darcy.’

  ‘What we need is for him to get sloppy. The phone provider said they’d notify us when the phone connects to a mast. Unfortunately, he’s kept it switched off, so he’s either got spooked or is biding his time. I’ll let you know the minute I get a notification. Good luck.’

  Morgan heard the shout from the call handler for an available patrol to attend an immediate response to a suspicious death and turned the volume up on the radio so they could both listen. She waited for the address to be passed to the unit who had responded and felt a dagger of fear slice through her heart.

  ‘Oh my God, that’s the block of bedsits where Stan lives.’ Grabbing her phone she rang his number; it rang out.

  Ben put his foot down and began to drive as fast as he could to get to the scene.

  ‘How many flats are there, Morgan?’

  ‘Three. Stan said there’s a drug dealer who lives in the ground-floor flat.’

  ‘Well there’s a good chance it’s them. Don’t panic.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  But she knew that she was, and she knew Ben could tell it too by the way the colour had drained from her face and her shaky voice.

  The sky had been getting darker all the way back from Manchester, and as they approached the narrow street where Stan lived, large spots of rain began to hit the windscreen. The street outside the flats was full of police cars and an ambulance. All of them had their blue lights flashing, casting an eerie glow on the row of empty shop windows opposite.

  Morgan’s mouth felt dry and her heart was racing. She just needed to know Stan was okay. Ben slowed the car, and before he’d even parked she was out of the passenger door and racing to the front door. She saw Dan blocking the entrance to the flats. He held out his hands to stop her. She pushed past him; there was no activity outside the ground-floor flat, so she bounded up the stairs. Voices were filtering down from the top, echoing in the narrow space. The undigested burger she’d eaten lay heavy in her stomach. She reached the second floor, which was also empty. That left Stan’s. Suddenly, the fight had gone from her and her knees felt weak. Ben was behind her. Reaching out for her, he shook his head.

  ‘Morgan, you don’t want to do this.’

  She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find her voice. She forced herself to walk up the remaining flight of stairs to where a paramedic was talking to an officer. They looked at her. She pointed to the front door which was ajar.

  Ben’s voice behind her addressed the officer.

  ‘What have you got?’

  ‘Elderly male, dead behind the door. He’s been there a couple of hours. There’s a rope around his neck.’

  ‘Suicide?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  Morgan didn’t trust herself to speak. More footsteps ran up the staircase and this time it was Dan’s voice.

  ‘Morgan, do not go inside that flat, please.’

  She turned, both Ben and Dan were watching her and she knew that she should turn around and let them deal with this, but she couldn’t. She needed to see this for herself. On automatic pilot, she asked the paramedic and officer standing next to her on the small square of landing: ‘Gloves?’

  Both of them began to pull gloves from their pockets. The paramedic got his out first, and she took them from him. Tugging on the bright blue gloves, she took a step forward. Ben’s voice was louder, behind her.

  ‘Morgan, please. Let me, don’t do this, you don’t have to do this.’

  She couldn’t; she could not turn around now and walk away. She owed it to Stan to be the one to identify him. She owed it to Stan to be there for him now like he’d been there for her when her life depended on it. Shaking her head, she squeezed through the narrow gap and let out a sob.

  Dan looked at Ben.

  ‘Shit, why didn’t you stop her?’

  Ben had the authority to have ordered her to leave the scene immediately, but he hadn’t. Instead, he shrugged.

  ‘Why didn’t you? Neither of us could have stopped her and you know that.’

  He followed her inside and saw Stan’s lifeless body on the floor, his glazed eyes, staring into the distance and a piece of rope wrapped several times around his neck. Morgan was staring at him. She hadn’t touched him, which was good. Ben tenderly took hold of her arm. ‘I’m sorry, Morgan, but you need to step outside now. I’ll take it from here.’

  A barrage of tears was building behind her eyes but she knew she wouldn’t cry now, not in front of her colleagues. She shrugged her arm from Ben’s grasp, gave one last look at the body of Stan, the man she should have called dad, then turned and went back down the stairs to wait outside in the car.

  She was numb from head to toe and cold, so cold. She realised that for the first time in her life she was entirely alone.

  THIRTY-ONE

  Ben phoned Amy. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘Grabbing lunch
, do you want some?’

  ‘No, I need you at this scene, please. As soon as you can. Did you hear the log get passed over the radio?’

  ‘No, sorry, boss. It’s loud in here.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’m at Church Street, you can’t miss all the police vans. There’s been a murder.’

  ‘Another? I’m on my way.’

  ‘Thanks, I owe you. This one is difficult; it’s Morgan’s dad.’

  He heard her gasp. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘In the car. She insisted on going in.’

  ‘Christ.’

  ‘Yeah, something like that.’

  He walked out of the flats to see Dan bending down at the side of the car, talking to Morgan, and he felt a twinge of something in his chest. Have a word with yourself, Ben. Stop letting him wind you up, what’s the matter with you? He nodded; the voice of reason was right. What was up with him? They were friends before he’d come along. He shouldn’t be surprised to see him comforting her. He crossed to the car. Morgan looked as if she was in shock.

  ‘Dan, can I have a word?’

  Dan reached out and squeezed her hand then stood up and came towards him.

  ‘Who was first on scene?’

  ‘Me and Jack. I went in first had a quick look then waited for paramedics. It was pretty obvious he was dead, but you know.’

  ‘Yeah, if Jack stays here, please can you take Morgan back to the station. Get her a cup of tea or something and try to keep her out of the way for a while.’

  He nodded and Ben thought he actually looked miserable, which shouldn’t have cheered him up but it did.

  ‘It would be even better if you can get her to go back to my house. Tell her to take the rest of the day off.’

  The look of surprise on Dan’s face made Ben feel even better.

  ‘Why your house?’

  ‘She’s stopping with me for a few days.’ He didn’t go into specifics and he knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t help it.

  ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not promising. You know what she’s like.’

  Ben did know.

  She was fiery, stubborn, hard-working, motivated and he’d realised in the last ten minutes that he had feelings for her that ran a lot deeper than for most of his colleagues.