A prison officer stood behind Gavin, to the side of the door.
Gavin's eyes flickered before refocusing and settling on Adam’s steady gaze.
“Are you sure you don’t want your solicitor present?” Adam asked.
“Positive, thanks.”
"I've just had a real enlightening visit with your wife." Adam held back, his eyebrows raised in anticipation of Gavin's reaction.
Nothing.
"She proved very informative, let me tell you. Are you aware she wishes you had died too?"
Adam's words hit the mark. Gavin recoiled, then shrugged. "Understandable, I suppose, considering what I've put her and the girls through."
"Very noble of you, if you don't mind me saying."
Gavin shrugged one shoulder again. "It's true."
"Yes I agree, if you were guilty. But you’re not, are you, Gavin? You know it, I know it and above all, your lovely wife knows it."
The next shrug wasn't as cocky. Gavin swallowed, staring at the table in front of him, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
"I worked out what caused your sudden confession."
A fake grin crossed Gavin's face as he fidgeted in his seat. "Is that so, Detective?"
Adam gave a slow nod and smiled back, one eyebrow raised.
"You see, what makes me a good detective, Gavin, is the fact I'm naturally intuitive. I know that regardless of all the evidence, you are no more capable of killing those men than I am."
Gavin shook his head. "Wrong, Detective. Your intuition might need to go into the shop for a service. I killed them," he sneered.
"However, for all that my senses tell me you’re innocent, the opposite has to be said about your wife."
Gavin's jaw dropped and his breathing hitched.
Adam sat back in his chair, one arm stretched behind his head and the other strummed a beat on the table. He crossed his right foot over his left knee and sighed.
"Leave my wife out of this," Gavin growled. "She's been through enough."
It was Adam's turn to flippantly shrug one shoulder.
"I'm serious. I killed those men. Why the fuck won't you believe me?"
"Because you're lying, and I plan to prove you're covering for your wife," Adam said.
Gavin jumped up, sending his chair clattering to the concrete floor.
The prison officer leapt forwards, grabbed Gavin’s upper arms and shoved him down.
Adam, now also on his feet, nodded. "Touch a nerve, did I?"
Gavin's face was pressed up against the floor, the officer's knee shoved in his back. "Leave Melissa alone!" he yelled. "I mean it, leave her be."
***
Mum wasted no time.
Certain the man was dead she yanked the knife free. It was much harder coming out than going in. Rummaging in the dead man's pockets, she pulled out his mobile phone and raced to the ladies. She washed the knife and her hands in the tiny sink.
Claude whimpered like a terrified baby, the poor thing was distraught. He cowered to the ground as Mum walked over to him. The manly growl from earlier was long gone.
She bent to undo his lead from the bench. "Shut up, mutt!" she spat, giving his lead a firm tug.
Mum, he's frightened.
"So he bloody well should be."
Mum began running and Claude had no choice but to obey or be strung up by the neck.
She took a detour on the way home. I asked her what she intended to do, but she ignored me. We doubled back on ourselves, running along a few unknown streets before dropping Brett's phone into a storm-water drain.
Arriving home, it worried me Mum still had control. We raced into the kitchen. Mum dropped Claude's lead, threw the knife into the dishwasher and ran to the bedroom where she stripped off the anorak and the rest of the clothes.
Surprisingly, there wasn't any blood. Not visible to my bare eyes, anyway. On the CSI programme I used to watch, they use specialist lights to show up even the teeniest speck of blood, but I hoped there would be no cause for a CSI examination.
After putting on my gown, we headed back out to the kitchen where Tina and Stella fussed over Claude.
"Oh, there you are," Stella said. "We wondered what happened. We heard the back door slam and found Claude still attached to his lead and you no-where to be seen."
"Stop being so dramatic, Stella. I needed the toilet that's all."
"What happened to your clothes?" Stella eyed me.
"I removed them. I'm not sure what people do in France, but over here we remove our clothes before stepping into the shower," Mum said.
Tina and Stella glanced at each other and then back at Claude.
"Did something happen, Mum?" Stella asked, still fussing over the dog.
"No. Like what?"
She shrugged. "Claude's acting weird."
"Because he's the most unfit dog I've ever met. You girls ought to be ashamed of yourselves. He's a genuine canine couch potato."
In a way, I was relieved Mum still had control. Her sharp tongue would worry the girls, but I was more than happy to let things stay as they were for the time being. Without Mum, they would see straight through my act.
A tremor spread through my entire body. I'd just been party to a cold-blooded murder, one that I knew Mum had enjoyed. I'd sensed her unmistakable pleasure as the man drew his final breath.
Chapter 28
Stella burst through the back door and flung her keys and bag in the centre of the table in front of Tina, Yvonne and me.
"You'll never guess what?" Her eyes were almost bursting from the sockets.
"What?" We said in unison.
"A man was murdered in Parswood Park.”
"For God's sake! This place is going to the dogs!" Yvonne screeched.
"Who?" Tina asked.
"Dunno. Mrs Greyson from the chippie told me. She said they have cordoned off the whole of Mambers Lane and the park. I'm going to check out the news." She rushed from the kitchen.
My heart raced. I couldn't say anything for fear of incriminating myself. They wouldn't suspect me, not in a million years, and I didn't intend to blurt out what I'd done, but still, I prayed for Mum's return.
Last night, she stayed with me until I drifted off to sleep. I spent the entire night in bed for the first time in weeks. This morning, the shocking enormity of what we'd done, hit me like a kick in the stomach, and there wasn't any sign of my mother.
"You all right, Mel?"
I almost jumped out of my skin as I noticed Tina standing over me, a slight frown on her face.
"Yeah, why?" I made a feeble attempt at a smile.
"You've gone pale. Are you ill?"
I shook my head. "Just tired." I ran my fingers through my hair, then got to my feet and began clearing the cups from the table. I placed them into the soapy dishwater in the sink.
After washing up, I retreated to my room and checked Gavin's phone, vaguely aware that Mum had made more arrangements with another man last night.
When she was in control it felt like a dream, and although I remembered everything that happened, the details afterwards were somewhat hazy.
Mum agreed we should leave brand new contacts alone, but anybody that Gavin had already met up with would need to be dealt with.
I located a message from dirtidawg, aka Merv. He'd suggested Gavin meet him at a hotel nearby, 7pm Friday evening. Mum replied, agreeing to meet up.
I knew the hotel in question. I'd been there to see a clairvoyant last year and from what I could remember, you needed to go through reception to get to the rooms, which might prove tricky.
We'd have to be extra careful.
***
The next morning, Adam found a report on his desk. Frances had gone through Melissa May's statement and found Melissa had no alibi at the time of each murder. Nobody had picked up on this earlier as she hadn't been a suspect.
Until now.
However, the case against her held no substance, and Adam didn't want to haul her in for questioning until
he had something more concrete.
He had no doubts at all, she was the real killer. Nevertheless, with a signed confession from Gavin, he needed to be careful, or his bosses would haul him over the coals for wasting police time and resources on something a little more than a hunch.
He re-examined all the evidence and read the report on the computer records taken from the May's home. Nothing untoward showed up.
He went over all the original interviews with Gavin pleading his innocence. He explained about his first contact with the victims via a website designed for married, bi-sexual men.
It blew Adam's mind the kind of depravity available, courtesy of the Internet. In the past, these men would have struggled to find like-minded individuals. But nowadays, any fantasy or fetish was catered for and supported with one website or another, no matter how disgusting, depraved or sadistic.
What shocked him the most was the amount of people searching for, and dabbling in these kinds of activities.
Always choosing to be monogamous, Adam's sex life looked archaic and boring in comparison. He'd never entertain a one-night-stand. To him, the act of love-making was intimate and important and he needed a special connection to want to open himself up like that.
He knew this attitude was unheard of in this day and age, but he didn't care. Luckily Amanda seemed of the same mind. She did confess to a promiscuous episode, trying to find herself after all the sordid sexual acts she'd been subjected to as a child.
Now she was only interested in giving herself to one man wholeheartedly.
Thoughts of Amanda created a quickening sensation in his stomach. Normally, Sarah filled his every idle thought, which was why he tried to keep his mind busy. Now, when he got the chance, he found himself daydreaming about Amanda instead.
His heart sank as guilt enveloped him. He felt like he was betraying Sarah's memory, their marriage and the wonderful life they had shared. But he wasn't. He couldn't bring Sarah back and she wouldn't want him moping around for the rest of his life. She would have approved of Amanda, he was certain of that.
He planned to take Amanda and the children for a picnic on Saturday if the weather held up. Afterwards, Michael was to take Emma and Jacob for the night and Mary would stay at Sandra's. They would be free to do whatever they liked for the rest of the evening.
He only hoped he'd be closer to closing the case by then. He didn't want a repeat performance of last week, him being too distracted to relax and enjoy every second in her company.
He picked up the phone and hit one of the pre-programmed numbers. "Cal, I need you to get me a photograph."
He knocked at the door of the late Carl Pilkington. His widow opened the door. Adam could tell she'd been crying.
"Hi, Mrs Pilkington. Remember me?" He smiled, showing her his badge.
She nodded. "Yes, Detective, come on in." She beckoned for him to enter the tiny hallway and closed the door behind him. Then she awkwardly manoeuvred herself around him and opened the lounge door, leading him inside.
"What can I do for you, Detective?"
"I won't keep you long—I just have a couple of questions."
"Sit down." She gestured towards the sofa.
"Thanks." He took a seat.
"Can I get you anyfing? Tea? Coffee?"
"No, I'm good." He reached into his pocket and produced a photograph of Melissa May. "Can you tell me if you've ever seen this woman before?"
Sandy took the image from him and looked at it. Her eyebrows screwed together. "No, I don't fink so." Shaking her head, she handed the photo back to him.
"Are you sure, Sandy? This is important." Adam held the image towards her again.
She scrutinised it once more. "No, I don't know 'er, who is she? Is she connected to Carl's murder? I fought you'd already charged someone."
"We have. I'm just checking out another theory, that's all." He smiled, standing up to leave. "Oh well, never mind. Thanks anyway."
Next he called in to see Bethany Bates and showed her the photograph.
She too shook her head and handed it back to him. "No. Never seen her before."
Adam suspected she was highly medicated. He had first-hand knowledge of how that felt. He’d spent the first three months after Sarah, drugged to the eyeballs.
He sighed. "Okay, thank you, Mrs Bates."
He got the exact same reaction from Denise Stubbs, Joe Bates' receptionist, Mrs Kingsley, and the two witnesses who saw the silhouette of the cap-wearing person who mowed Anthony Kingsley down. No one had set eyes on Melissa May before.
His last stop, The Mirage Motel. The owner, Peter Lynch, was the man Adam had met the night they arrested Gavin May.
When Adam showed him the photograph, Peter recognised her right away. But Adam's initial excitement fell flat once he discovered she had called in to collect her husband’s belongings after the murders.
Today had proved a complete waste of his time.
On his way back to the station, Adam's car phone rang.
"Stanley."
"Detective, it's Peter Lynch from The Mirage."
"Yes, Mr Lynch. What can I do for you?"
"I wanted to check that Mrs May gave you the mobile phone we found in her husband’s unit. I told her I intended to hand it in to you guys, but she insisted she did it instead."
"Very interesting, and no she didn't hand it in. Thanks for that, I'll chase it up."
Chapter 29
Yvonne had agreed to go home. I followed her upstairs to help pack her belongings before Keith arrived, when the phone rang.
"Mum, phone," Stella yelled.
I made my way down the stairs.
Stella stood in the hallway, the phone held to her breast. "A Detective Stanley."
My stomach dropped to the floor as a white light settled all around me, accompanied by the familiar, awful noise.
Stella's mouth opened and closed, but I couldn't hear a word she said. She dropped the phone and gripped both my shoulders, shaking me roughly.
All of a sudden, Mum returned.
"What? Get off me." She lifted both arms, shoving Stella away from her.
"Are you okay?"
"Course I'm okay." Mum shook her head, before reaching for the dangling phone.
"Yes, Detective?"
"Mrs May, is this a bad time?"
"Not at all. What can I do for you?"
"I believe you have your husband's mobile phone."
"No. I don't."
"Are you sure?"
"The motel manager told me he intended to pass it on to you."
"Strange. He said you took it."
"Certainly not!"
"I see. That will be all for now then, Mrs May."
Mum hung up, noticing Stella still hovering behind her.
"What did he want?" she asked.
"He's looking for Dad's phone."
"Then, why lie?"
"I didn't. I don't have it!" Mum glared at Stella.
"You do. Dad's phone is in your bedroom."
Mum, walking towards the kitchen, stopped and spun around to face Stella, fuming. "Keep your fucking nosey beak out of my business. I'm sick of the lot of you snooping into things of no concern to you."
"Sorry, Mum, I …"
"Sorry, Mum—Sorry, Mum." She mimicked. "Change the fucking record will you?"
"Mother!" Yvonne said racing down the stairs.
A rapping at the door made everyone stop in their tracks. Yvonne opened the door and Keith stepped inside pulling his wife into his arms.
"Hey, baby, what's the matter?" he asked.
"Just take me home, Keith." She sobbed into his neck.
Mum scowled at her and continued to the kitchen where Claude began to whimper.
"You can fuck off and all! You stinking mutt."
Tina, sitting at the dining table, had witnessed everything. She jumped to her feet. "Hey, don't be like that, Mel." Her voice quivered.
"You don't like it? You know where the door is."
"
Fine! Come on, Stella. Nobody needs to put up with this abuse."
Within half an hour everyone had gone, including Mum.
I sat on my bed feeling sorry for myself. Not sad they'd gone, I wouldn't miss any of them. Well, maybe Claude, I'd grown quite fond of him. It was how it all came about that upset me. Apart from the odd spat, I'd never had an argument with my girls.
I stayed in my room until the sun had gone down, and I found myself sitting in darkness.
I heated a bowl of soup for dinner, I went through to the lounge and turned on the TV.
I'd watched very little TV the past few weeks. The noise that accompanied it seemed to drive me demented, but the quiet of the house after everyone being there also disturbed me.
I muted the sound and flicked through a few channels but nothing caught my eye until I stumbled upon a photo of Brett, the guy from the park.
I turned on the sound and listened to what the newsreader had to say.
… Police have ruled out robbery as a motive because Mr Graham's wallet and other valuables were found on his person. The only item that appears to be missing, at this stage, is his cell phone.
What Mr Graham was doing in the park is still a mystery, although CCTV footage from the car park shows he arrived of his own volition.
Surrey Police appeal for any witnesses to come forward. Even the smallest piece of information could make all the difference …
I muted the TV. My whole body trembled. I'd not even considered there might be CCTV cameras operating in the area. And depending on where they were positioned, Claude and I could well have been picked up by them too.
How could I have been so stupid to allow Mum to do this?
***
Adam hung up the phone and scratched his head. Now why would she lie about having Gavin’s phone? There must be something she didn't want him to see.
Gavin told him he accessed the website via his phone, one of the reasons he wanted to get his hands on it. But there was more than one way to skin a cat, as his Mum used to say.
Psychological Thriller Series: Adam Stanley Boxed Set: Behind Shadows, Positively Murder and Mind Bender Page 38
