Kimberley Owens was Adam's favourite computer geek. He gave her the website details he'd got from Gavin days ago, and left it with her.
She said she'd leave the findings on his desk by morning.
On his way home, he picked up a Chinese takeaway, looking forward to an early night.
Halfway through his meal, the phone rang.
"Adam, I think you may want to get back here. I've got something to show you." Kimberley's voice was breathy and excited.
Twenty minutes later Adam strode into Kimberley's office.
"You were quick," she said.
"It sounded urgent."
"It is. Here, grab a seat and look at this." She turned the computer screen in his direction.
Adam shuffled his chair up beside her.
"I got into Gavin's profile."
"Aha." Adam nodded, eager to get to the reason she'd called him back.
"Well, Gavin met up with hundreds of guys on here, including the first two murder victims."
"Okay."
"Dozens of messages in the past few weeks have gone unanswered."
"Of course, Gavin's locked up."
"I know. Which is why I thought it odd he'd arranged to meet a man a couple of nights ago. At a park.” Kimberley glanced at him. “In Surrey." Her eyes widened, as if waiting for the penny to drop.
Adam shook his head. "What am I not getting? Firstly, Gavin couldn’t have arranged the meeting and secondly, why are you looking at me like that?"
"Don't you listen to the news, Detective?"
"When I get a chance. Why?"
She pulled up an image of a middle aged man. "This man, Brett Graham, arranged to meet Gavin in Parswood Park in Surrey at 7pm last Tuesday."
"Yeah, you said."
"This same man was found outside the toilets in Parswood Park at 7.45pm on Tuesday. He'd been stabbed to death."
Chapter 30
I woke up in the same position on the sofa. It was morning already, considering the sounds made by the bird community who were going about their business outside the window.
I loved having the house to myself again, although I still worried about the argument I'd had with the girls.
They'll live.
"Oh, hello. I thought you'd bailed on me too."
No chance of that. We've got work to do.
"I don't know. Can't we just—?"
For the last time, these men need to be stopped. Especially the ones we know are spreading their disease.
I couldn't argue with her. She gave me a headache.
I'll do everything. You're not much help anyway. Never was.
"Stop being nasty, Mother. I don't think I've done so bad considering the start in life you provided."
Go on, same old broken record.
I shook my head. "Just leave me alone."
My pleasure, but first we need to do some research for tonight.
"What research?"
You'll see.
"Go! You're spoiling my peace and quiet."
I stomped into the bathroom, slammed the door behind me and turned on the shower. After stripping off my clothes, I stepped underneath the hot jets, closing my eyes as the soothing water pummelled my exhausted body.
This was the perfect time to cry, and I knew I should want to, but I didn't. It was as though a layer of cotton wool had been wrapped around my feelings, buffering my emotions and reactions.
Afterwards, I felt much better. For the first time in ages I applied some moisturiser, followed by eyeliner and a dab of lipstick which seemed to lift my face and my mood.
I smiled at my reflection in the mirror and suddenly Mum's face appeared in front of my own. Although similar, her eyes had a hardness to them, and her lips formed a tight firm line.
"I thought you'd gone."
You'll never get rid of me, girl. Don't you forget that.
Her image faded and I was left staring at my own face once again.
Going through to the bedroom, I threw on a shirt and pair of slacks.
After coffee and a slice of toast, I was ready. "Right, Mother. What is your plan?"
The hotel had a huge conference room off the reception area where the clairvoyant had performed.
I approached the main desk and it seemed to take all the young, blonde girl's energy to tear her eyes away from the computer screen in front of her. I guessed she was in the middle of an on-line game or chatting with her friends on Facebook.
"How can I help you?" She glanced up, feigning interest. Her mouth was pursed as though I was an inconvenience.
"I have some friends coming to town next week, and they'll need somewhere to stay. I wondered if I could have some information about what you offer?"
"Yes, no problem." She glanced back at the screen and clicked the mouse a few times before standing up and picking a glossy coloured brochure up from a pile. "We have standard rooms, superior rooms and executive rooms. The main difference in these is the size of the bed—standard has a double, superior, a queen and executive, a king," she said, pointing to each of the pictures with a pen, her voice reminiscent of a recording. She’d clearly memorised the spiel word for word.
I nodded and smiled.
"All our rooms include a full English breakfast in our Quartz restaurant, and a full a la carte menu is available for dinner. We also offer a twenty-four hour room service menu."
As she spoke I let my eyes wander around the room, glancing back at her with a smile. A camera faced the double front doors and another faced the reception desk. There would be no way of entering without being picked up by both of them.
"Any chance of looking at the rooms?"
"We don’t have any spare staff to show you around at the moment, but I can give you a couple of room keys if you don't mind?"
"No, not at all." I offered her my sweetest smile.
She swiped two cards into a machine and punched in some numbers then handed them to me.
"Room 803 is a standard and 620 is an executive, which should give you a good idea."
"Lovely, thanks for that."
At the end of the first corridor was a sign for the car park. The door opened freely to exit, but needed a swipe card to enter. Another camera pointed at the door from the outside. I dragged a rubbish bin from the corridor and wedged it to prevent the door from closing while I went to check out the rest of the car park.
I scanned the entire area and only found one other camera positioned to catch anybody coming in via the ramp from outside.
I nodded, satisfied I'd found them all and scooted back into the corridor, putting the rubbish bin back where I'd found it. I didn't need to view the rooms but was unsure if the girl would be able to tell, so I located each room and spent a moment inside both.
Back in the reception, I placed the cards on the desk in front of the blond girl, who now chatted on the phone.
She nodded and smiled at me.
I gave her the thumbs up and left.
"Bugger!" I said as I climbed into my car.
Don't worry, I have a plan.
"No way, Mum. There are cameras all over the place—it's impossible."
There's no such thing as impossible—just different degrees of difficult.
***
Dressed in the same dark clothing as Tuesday, Mum took control.
She drove to the hotel and parked a few minutes’ walk away, down a side street.
Pulling on the hood of the anorak, Mum tightened the cord ties, fitting it around my face.
We'd received a text message earlier from Merv, the man we were due to meet, telling Gavin he was in room 201.
Mum checked the phone for any more messages. Nothing. She slipped it back into the pocket and patted her sleeve to check the position of the knife before getting out of the car.
We walked along the back streets, approaching the hotel from the rear.
The car park entrance had a barrier arm that was operated using a swipe card. Mum approached the barrier, keeping her back to the camera and ducked un
derneath. Stepping into the shadows to the side of the wall, she waited to see if she'd triggered any alarms. Nothing happened.
The air stank of car fumes, a mixture of old motor oil and petrol.
Mum walked the perimeter of the car park until reaching the two hundreds, pleased to find a white Hyundai parked up in 201.
She approached the car and scanned the area one last time, and slid the knife from her sleeve. She leaned against the driver's side of the car, placing the handle end of the knife against the side window. With one last glance around, she whacked the glass with the handle.
The deafening crack echoed off every wall in the enclosed space. Yet Mum, unperturbed, continued.
It took several attempts before the window shattered, showering thousands of tiny glass beads all over the seat.
Mum sought out the shadows once again and waited, hardly breathing.
Once satisfied nobody had been alerted, Mum took Gavin's phone from my pocket and dialled a number she had entered earlier.
"Swainston Manor, Trudy speaking. How may I help you?"
"Room 201, please."
"Of course, madam."
After a brief pause and two long rings reminding me of an overseas call, the phone clicked.
"Hello?" A deep male voice said.
"Reception desk here, sir. It seems security have reported a broken window on a vehicle parked in the car park bay allocated to your room. They need you to meet them at the car."
"What? Oh shit, I'll be right there."
Mum positioned herself behind the vehicle next to Merv's and crouched down as she watched the internal door.
Within a few minutes, a tall man appeared wearing a heavy grey overcoat. He headed straight for the car, then stopped, his hands on his hips, shaking his head.
Once again, Mum slid the knife from her sleeve, and, still bending, crept up behind the man. She raised the knife past her shoulder, preparing to put all our weight behind that first thrust.
All of a sudden, floodlights lit the whole car park.
The surprise gripped Mum to the core.
The man turned to face her, smiling.
The shock was immense. I struggled to work out what the hell had just happened.
"Hello, Melissa," Detective Stanley said.
Chapter 31
Adam pulled his car into the traffic and followed the police van to the Surrey station.
"Are you okay?" He glanced at Frances, who seemed spaced out, in the passenger seat.
"I'm fine." She gave him an unconvincing smile.
"You’re not hurt?"
She shook her head. "No. Honestly, I'm fine."
Adam shrugged.
It had been all systems go since last night. After contacting the Surrey station, they'd joined forces in order to catch Melissa red-handed. The only hitch had been Merv the Perv, as they'd all christened him, who refused to help them at first, petrified his wife would find out what he'd been up to. Adam promised total discretion and he eventually agreed to cooperate.
The hotel provided two adjoining rooms for their use. The Surrey police set up cameras and one of their detectives planned to play the part of Merv.
However, earlier today, Adam almost bumped straight into Melissa, which would have blown the whole thing. Luckily, she didn't see him. Adam managed to dart back into the room, slamming the door in time, but it shook him up. They had been so close to ruining everything.
He never even considered Melissa might check the place out first, and that hadn't been the only mistake. All their hard work went tits up when Melissa tried to trick Merv out of the room.
Adam refused to allow their Merv substitute to go down to the car park. If any risks were to be taken, he would be the one to take them. So he donned the overcoat, pulling the collar up tight around his face and made the call to go down himself.
Time seemed to stop the moment he turned around.
Melissa froze, arm raised and eyes wide open.
Adam watched the confusion and then the realisation dawn on her.
The disbelief rendered her speechless and her mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
Moments later all hell broke loose.
Frances came out of nowhere, pouncing on Melissa from behind, wrestling the knife from her hand. They both crashed to the floor, sending the knife skittering across the concrete and underneath Merv's car.
Within seconds, they were surrounded by at least a dozen detectives. They picked Melissa up, restraining her before reading her her rights. She was then bundled, kicking and screaming, into the back of a police van which was headed for the Surrey station.
Adam made it clear to the other officers that he had first dibs on her. There was no way he would let them get to her first.
At the station, Melissa was taken to be booked in.
Adam took Frances for a bite to eat. No doubt it would be a long night once they began the questioning.
The canteen was typical of any police canteen he'd ever been in. The basic food and drinks were better than nothing, marginally. Frances ordered a Jacket potato filled with beans and cheese. Adam chose liver and onions with mashed potato and gravy. His stomach growled in anticipation.
They sat down with a cup of coffee while waiting for their food.
"You seem distracted. What's wrong?" Adam asked.
"Just thinking, about how I accused you of being crazy when you suggested Gavin could be innocent."
"I know you did, but that's all right. You’re not the first and won't be the last." Adam smiled and leaned back in his chair, glancing round. He was starving.
"Doesn't make me a very good detective though, does it?"
"You’re a great detective, you fool." Adam touched her hand and shook his head.
"But you're obviously better."
"Obviously." He laughed.
Frances joined in, giving him a playful nudge.
They found Melissa in the interview room when they got back from the canteen.
Gone, the timid, slight woman they’d met at her home. Instead, she almost filled the room with her indignant attitude. He glanced at Frances and realised she’d noticed the change too. He took a seat opposite Melissa.
Frances sat next to him and stated their names, date and time into the recorder.
"Melissa, I want to confirm you were read your rights and if so, understood them," Adam said.
Melissa sneered at him, her nose screwed as though he was a stinky hunk of shit on her shoe.
"Mrs May?"
"Wrong name, I'm not his wife."
"Sorry, my mistake. Gavin told us you were married." Adam glanced at Frances again. "So what would you prefer we call you, then?"
"Maureen will do."
"Maureen? What about Melissa?" Adam asked.
"I already told you, my name's Maureen."
"I'm confused. Please explain. Where is Melissa?"
She stared at him, her eyes filled with defiance. She said nothing.
"At our last meeting, you said your name was Melissa May?"
"No, I didn't, Melissa did."
"Are you her sister? Her twin perhaps?"
The sneer deepened. "Don't be so stupid," she spat. "I'm her mother."
Once again, Adam glanced at Frances, who looked as confused as he felt.
"Do you know why you’re here, Maureen?"
She nodded.
"Please speak up for the tape," Frances said.
"Yes. Of course I do. Because I tried to kill you."
"Not forgetting the other murders, including the ones your husb … er, Gavin confessed to."
"This is all his doing, if he'd kept his dick in his pants none of this would have happened."
"You killed the victims because Gavin slept with them?"
She nodded. "Yes. For spreading his disease. He's already infected my daughter and Lord knows how many other innocent people, but that wasn't enough for him."
"I get you. You wanted to stop these men infecting their wives, but what a
bout the man you killed in the park and the one you intended to kill tonight? They didn't sleep with Gavin." Adam shook his head.
"He'd already slept with them, many times. Do you know how many bisexual men are married with children? Gavin's phone is filled with hundreds of them. They live a lie and spread their disgusting, contaminated seed."
"Where does Melissa fit into all this?" Frances asked.
"Melissa, bah! She's useless. I told her to kill her putrid husband when she had the chance."
"Why didn't she?"
Maureen's face screwed up. "Because she loved him," she said.
"Maybe you need to tell us the whole story, from the beginning. What happened?"
After Melissa’s full and frank confession, Adam was clueless as to where the hell they stood. It was obvious Melissa May, or Maureen Clark as she called herself, had lost her grip on reality. She needed a psychiatric evaluation, and it may well turn out her confession wouldn't be worth the paper it was written on.
They drove back to London in the early hours of Saturday morning, exhausted and ready for bed. Adam still had a mountain of paperwork to get through before knocking off. Frances slept most of the journey, and Adam insisted she go home for a well-deserved rest.
He sat down at his desk, relieved to finally prove Gavin's innocence after all. Well, partial innocence. Gavin was guilty of having unprotected sex knowing his HIV status, and showed no remorse.
In a way, he applauded Melissa. In her own befuddled mind she had been protecting other innocent people, although he couldn't condone the way she'd gone about it.
Anthony Kingsley had been a tragic mistake. The poor guy had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he hadn't forgotten the paperwork, he'd never have gone back to Gavin's unit. Instead, he would still be enjoying life with his wife and twins.
But that was the problem with crime. Breaking the law, albeit with good intentions, inevitably escalates out of control. Lies create more lies—deceit more deceit.
In Melissa's case, Carl Pilkington's accidental death had managed to flip her over the edge mentally.
Chapter 32
Driving home, Adam was greeted by the most amazing sunrise. He squinted as he watched the blinding orange sphere rise from the horizon taking its place in the cloudless blue sky.
Psychological Thriller Series: Adam Stanley Boxed Set: Behind Shadows, Positively Murder and Mind Bender Page 39
