Never Say Goodbye: An edge of your seat thriller with gripping suspense (Detective Tom Fabian Book 1)

by Richard Parker

  ‘Routes. There’s two depending on how many people have signed up.’

  Fabian was finding him hard to read. Why had he lied about not being at home? And Fabian had to consider the aggressive incident between Cousins and a woman in The Champion that the barman had told them about. ‘Why do they differ?’

  ‘If only a few people show up, I cut it short. I can’t spend an hour and a half with one couple. It’s not worth my while.’

  ‘So, where do you go from Wells Street?’ Banner dumped the flier and took out her phone.

  ‘I head over to The Newman Arms.’

  ‘Via?’ She opened up a map on her phone.

  ‘Eastcastle Street. Why?’

  ‘What happened at The Newman Arms?’ Fabian sat forward.

  ‘Nothing. George Orwell used to drink there and it’s featured in Nineteen Eighty-Four.’

  ‘So, how’s that part of a murder walk?’ Fabian studied the map on Banner’s phone.

  ‘It was used for the opening scene of Peeping Tom.’ Cousins took in their blank features with disbelief. ‘Michael Powell? The movie that finished his career? A prostitute is murdered there. It’s a classic.’

  ‘So where from there?’ Banner enlarged the map with her fingers.

  ‘I go to Gosfield Street.’

  ‘Show us…’ She passed the phone to him.

  Cousins ran his finger along the route. ‘Up Newman Street into Cleveland then down Foley Street.’

  Fabian registered that took them into the heart of the killer’s territory. ‘What’s in Gosfield Street?’

  ‘A prostitute was killed there, for real, in a flat in number 9. Strangled and mutilated on the 11th of February 1942. Murderer was a young airman, Gordon Cummins. He killed four women in as many days during the blackout. He was caught after he dropped his gas mask while attacking another woman and she saw his number on it. Ironically, he was hanged during an air raid.’

  It sounded to Fabian as though he’d slipped into his tour dialogue. ‘How many more stops on the tour?’

  Cousins rolled his eyes up again. ‘Sixteen in all.’

  ‘Would you mind writing them down for us?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The route you’d take and the details of each incident.’ Fabian watched his face fall.

  ‘Write them all down?’ He was mortified. ‘Wait.’ Cousins reached into his pocket and pulled out some limp and folded pieces of yellow paper. ‘Notes, in case I need prompting. I’ve done it so many times though I haven’t used them in a good while.’ He unfolded and handed them over.

  Fabian took them from him. There were directions between each block of information. ‘Thank you.’ He handed them to Banner. ‘While we look these over I just need to ask you about some specific dates.’

  ‘OK.’ He nodded uncertainly.

  ‘If you can tell us exactly what you were doing we can quickly eliminate you, particularly if you were with other people who can vouch for your presence.’

  ‘I’ll try as best I can.’

  ‘The evening of the eighth of September?’

  Cousins screwed up his eyes.

  A little too tightly?

  ‘What day was that?’

  ‘A Saturday.’ Fabian watched Cousins momentarily suck in his bottom lip.

  ‘That’s a good few weeks ago.’

  ‘Does the name Candice Langham mean anything to you?’

  He tightened his mouth and shook his head once at Fabian.

  Fabian anticipated him making the connection with the street he’d mentioned. He didn’t. ‘How about Joe Middleton?’

  ‘No,’ he answered him immediately.

  ‘Think carefully. Keeley Riding?’ Fabian noticed his cheeks had flushed.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Let’s concentrate on the eighth of September then.’

  ‘Do you have anything that you do regularly on the weekend?’ Banner put down Cousins’s notes.

  Cousins grimaced as if he were in pain.

  ‘Maybe you were down at The Champion?’ she continued. ‘And there are some regulars who will remember you being in there? There are cameras in Wells Street, they’re bound to have picked you up.’

  ‘Saturday’s not usually my night.’

  ‘What about the tours? Do you not do those at night?’ Banner indicated the flier.

  ‘Good for atmospherics but bad for punters. Stopped doing them late because everyone is pissed before they leave the pub.’

  ‘What time is the last one then?’ She frowned.

  ‘Six is my cut-off now. Except for Halloween ghost walks.’

  ‘So, no immediate recollection of your whereabouts on the eighth?’ Banner waited.

  ‘I’m thinking.’

  But it didn’t look to Fabian as if he were. ‘What about the fifteenth? That was a Saturday as well.’

  ‘Saturday?’

  Neither Fabian nor Banner spoke while he puffed out his cheeks.

  ‘I could have been at my sister’s then.’ He nodded but registered their sceptical expressions.

  ‘Like you were tonight?’ Fabian consulted his phone. ‘Then we’re looking at the twenty-seventh, a Thursday.’

  ‘Thursday,’ he mouthed.

  ‘Any good? Or the seventh of this month. Sunday.’

  ‘It’s difficult to think on the spot like this.’

  ‘Do you have anything at home, calendar or diary, that might jog your memory?’ Banner folded her arms.

  ‘Or photos you took with your phone?’ Fabian suggested.

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t do that. I keep it switched off most of the time.’

  Fabian couldn’t see him as a social media freak. ‘Except for tonight. Which was fortunate for us.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Could I ask you to try a little harder, Mr Cousins?’

  His face went redder. ‘I think I should definitely call a solicitor now.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fabian and Banner left Cousins in the interview room and ducked into the admin office next to it.

  Fabian closed the door. ‘Thoughts?’

  Banner rubbed the back of her arms and her jaw chattered. ‘Using murder to educate people. We can’t possibly let him go.’

  ‘As soon as a solicitor arrives they’re going to ask us to charge or release him.’

  ‘If he can’t account for any of the dates we gave him…’

  Fabian stuck both hands into his pockets. ‘He’s concealing but I’m not sure if there’s something else going on here.’

  ‘Maybe his sister is about to become a convenient alibi. His body language is very erratic.’

  ‘This is somebody who has researched every murder in the area.’

  ‘If we do eliminate him he might be useful to have around anyway.’

  The thought had already occurred to Fabian. ‘Get McMann to follow up on every incident on the tour.’ He indicated the paper Cousins had given them in Banner’s hand. ‘One of them could be relevant even if Cousins isn’t.’

  ‘You really believe that now?’

  ‘Even though he mentioned Langham, he seems too convenient.’

  She opened it and leafed through the pages. ‘Only two of the roads that are on the route so far are part of Cousins’s tour.’

  ‘He mentioned a shorter one for smaller parties.’

  ‘Can’t see that here.’

  ‘Let’s get that from him as well.’

  ‘Would he really make it that obvious though?’ Banner bit her lip as she scanned the spidery handwriting. ‘Perhaps he didn’t believe anyone would make the link between the victims’ names that quickly…’

  ‘Maybe he thinks the route being on his own doorstep makes him a less likely suspect.’

  ‘But he could have done that by choosing an area entirely unconnected to him.’

  ‘Or he gets a buzz from sitting in plain sight.’ Fabian turned to the blank wall Cousins was behind. ‘I’m sure he’s hiding something at home. Why else tell us he wasn’t there?’


  ‘Good luck getting a warrant.’

  ‘He’s got no alibi. Yet. Key is to keep him in that room, let him think we’ve got a warrant and see if he implicates himself. As soon as his solicitor arrives that road is closed.’

  ‘But he’s not answering questions until they turn up.’

  ‘So we capitalise on the short time we have while still letting him think he’s not answering questions. Get Finch onto the warrant.’

  Banner nodded and turned to the door.

  ‘Wait.’ Fabian fished out some release documents from the bin beside the copier, gave one to her and kept the rest. ‘Give me a couple of minutes with him and then come in with that and hand it to me.’

  She folded it in half, understanding. ‘Clock’s ticking.’

  Fabian paused at the door. ‘Your best “cat’s got the cream but doesn’t want Cousins to know it”.’

  ‘It’ll be a performance of rare subtlety.’

  Chapter Twenty

  ‘While we’re waiting…’ Fabian breezed back into the interview room and took his seat opposite Cousins again, ‘can we just check a few details?’ He studied the release documents and picked up a pen from the tabletop.

  ‘My solicitor has instructed me not to answer any more questions until she gets here.’

  ‘Yes. I understand that. But just so we can move things along on her arrival I need you to confirm the information we already have.’

  Cousins frowned.

  ‘The sooner we can log things onto our system the quicker we can be finished.’ Fabian leaned back with the papers on his lap.

  He nodded once.

  ‘So it’s 8 Plumber Row?’

  ‘Eight “a”,’ he corrected, irritably.

  ‘Eight “a”.’ Fabian pretended to add the detail to the paper. ‘And that’s WC1N…?’

  ‘One, DN.’

  ‘One, DN. And you say you’ve lived there three and a bit years?’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘Just you living at the address?’

  ‘Yes.’ Cousins made his chair creak as he folded his arms.

  ‘Do you own the property or rent?’

  ‘Rent.’

  ‘So does the landlord live nearby?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Why?’

  ‘Just for our reference.’

  ‘You can’t go onto my property without my permission,’ he blustered.

  ‘Of course. I’d need a search warrant for that. Do you have a landline there?’

  ‘No, I said. I only use my mobile.’

  ‘And we have that already. OK…’

  At that point, Banner entered the room with the paper and stood beside Fabian.

  She held it out to him; he didn’t immediately take it but continued running his pen down the page. Eventually he feigned noticing Banner’s folded document, raised his eyebrows and took it from her.

  ‘They expedited it for us.’

  He opened it, closed it quickly and stood. ‘OK. Somebody else will be in to finish this.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Just wait here for your solicitor to arrive. Has she given you any indication as to how long she’ll be?’

  ‘In the next ten minutes.’

  ‘Excellent. Banner?’ He gestured her to follow him.

  ‘Nothing can happen until she arrives.’ Cousins sounded panicky.

  ‘We’re following procedure, Mr Cousins,’ Banner chipped in.

  ‘You won’t be going onto my property in the meantime?’

  ‘I think we’ve established, only if I have a warrant.’

  ‘I’ve nothing to hide.’ His dark eyes darted.

  ‘Good.’

  Cousins seemed to wrestle with himself. ‘Are you not going to stay here until my solicitor arrives?’

  ‘We don’t have time, Mr Cousins. There’s plenty we can be doing in the meantime.’ Fabian grabbed the door handle.

  ‘Please, wait.’

  Fabian and Banner paused.

  ‘What is it, Mr Cousins?’ Looked like the ploy had worked. He turned from the door.

  Cousins grunted, as if he were in pain. ‘There are some things I need to explain.’

  ‘We’ve given you ample opportunity to do that.’ He rattled the handle again.

  ‘Please,’ Cousins begged sharply.

  ‘What is it you’d like to tell us?’ Fabian knew the solicitor wouldn’t be coming through the door in the next few minutes but that they still only had a small window to work in.

  ‘They’re personal things.’

  ‘We’ll have to record this.’ He and Banner returned to the table.

  Cousins looked terror stricken.

  ‘Are you OK with that?’ Fabian couldn’t lose him now. ‘If it helps us eliminate you…’

  ‘I’ll tell you. Not her.’ He didn’t look at Banner.

  ‘My colleague will be sitting in with us. Make the choice or you can explain later.’

  ‘All right,’ Cousins snapped and didn’t look up from the table. ‘OK.’ He inhaled and the colour drained quickly from his features.

  Somebody rapped twice on the door.

  Fabian went rigid. Surely not the solicitor. ‘Yes?’

  Finch put his head around the door. ‘A moment?’

  ‘Is this important?’

  Finch nodded and his grave expression left Fabian in no doubt.

  ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ Fabian swiftly stepped out.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  ‘Another body’s been found,’ Finch said in a low voice as Fabian closed the interview room door behind him.

  Fabian walked a few steps away and Finch followed. ‘Where?’

  He lowered his voice. ‘House on the edge of Green Park. A woman.’

  ‘Same mutilation?’

  ‘Multiple stab wounds to the face.’

  ‘Name?’

  ‘Waiting for confirmation but it appears to be the homeowner, Emily Mortimer.’

  ‘Mortimer. The next street.’ Fabian had hoped but doubted the route had ended with Janet Wells. And so quickly after the last. ‘Any idea how long she’s been there?’

  ‘Forensics have only just gone onto the property.’

  ‘Another break-in?’

  ‘Looks that way.’

  ‘OK. Have a car waiting. We’ll head over there as soon as I’ve finished up here.’

  Finch nodded and trotted off.

  Fabian pushed back into the interview room and did his best to regain his composure. Banner was seated opposite Cousins again.

  Their interviewee was looking very jumpy.

  She looked up at Fabian, her eyes questioning. They still had limited time until Cousins’s solicitor arrived.

  ‘I’ll only talk to a male officer,’ Cousins stated flatly.

  ‘OK. You can talk to me but Banner will be present. Make it quick, I need to be elsewhere,’ he added, knowing that Cousins was edgy because he thought his property was about to be searched.

  ‘OK.’ Cousins briefly screwed his eyes shut.

  Banner activated the recorder and stated the time they’d recommenced.

  Fabian seated himself next to her. ‘What is it you need to say?’

  ‘I have things at home that, out of context, might seem…’

  They both waited for him to find the word, but he didn’t.

  ‘I’m a very private person.’ His waterproof sleeve squeaked as he lifted an arm to scratch nervously at his grey curls.

  ‘Just tell us, Mr Cousins,’ Banner prompted, her tone conciliatory.

  ‘If I’m implicated though – even when I’m cleared – my privacy will have been breached. Details will be documented.’

  ‘We’ll do everything we can to minimise your exposure if your innocence is proved.’ Fabian assured him. ‘But, currently, you’ve given us nothing to help us do that.’

  Cousins filled his lungs but then the door behind him opened and a forty-something woman in a smart suit and large lensed specs enter
ed.

  Fabian immediately recognised her.

  She removed her green beret to reveal a dyed blonde bob that seemed more severely shorn than usual. ‘Detective Fabian…’ Lauren Reid’s strong Scottish accent always sounded combative. ‘You know better than this.’

  ‘Your client was conversing with us voluntarily.’

  ‘Mr Cousins, I got here as soon as I could.’ She took off a leather glove and quickly shook his hand. She returned her attention to Fabian.

  ‘Mr Cousins was about to offer us some significant details.’

  ‘Mr Cousins will not be saying another word until I’ve been brought up to speed.’ She put her leather case on the table.

  ‘Is that right, Mr Cousins?’ Banner pressed.

  His pupils darted between Reid and the officers.

  ‘Not another word,’ Reid said categorically.

  Cousins nodded uncertainly and sat back.

  Banner halted the recording.

  ‘I’ll need some time alone.’ Reid raised her eyebrow at the officers. ‘If you don’t mind.’

  Fabian sighed and they both rose. He knew Reid would assuage whatever uncertainty they’d implanted in Cousins. Temporarily, their interrogation was suspended and progress would now be severely hampered by her presence.

  ‘Thank you, officers.’ Reid unzipped her bag and began extracting papers.

  Banner followed Fabian out into the corridor. ‘What did Finch have to say?’

  ‘We’ve reached Mortimer Street. Come on, he’s waiting for us in the car.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Despite its slim, brown brick frontage, the townhouse target property on Mount Street was an exclusive address. There were still a good few hours before daylight but a handful of neighbours were assembled outside the closed garage door below the property.

  Finch parked his car up behind the police vehicles opposite.

  Fabian scanned the upscale neighbourhood for TV vans. ‘Good. No cameras yet.’ And nothing on the radio. The biggest stories on Capital FM were an acid attack in a nightclub in Covent Garden and an attempted suicide at Monument Tube. A group of early morning commuters had managed to restrain a man before he could step under a train approaching the platform.