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Prime Justice

Page 10

by M A Comley


  ~ ~ ~

  “Hello again, Mr. Brinck. Mind if we come in?” Lorne asked the second the dead woman’s husband opened the door to them.

  “Mind? Have I got an option?” He sneered angrily, turning his back and flinging the door against the wall before he strode up the hallway and into the lounge.

  Lorne looked at AJ and pulled a face. “I don’t think he’s pleased to see us.”

  “I’d say that was an understatement, boss.” AJ closed the front door behind them.

  When Lorne walked into the lounge, the man had lit up a cigarette and was standing in the bay window, looking out at the road. “Mr. Brinck, I think it would be better if you sat down.”

  “I don’t take orders in my own house. Just say what you’ve got to say and leave.”

  She sighed. “Very well. It is with regret that I have to inform you that we believe we have discovered your wife’s remains.”

  He turned slowly, his brow furrowed. “What?”

  “Now will you sit down?”

  The man walked towards them in a daze and dropped into a chair.

  Lorne and AJ sat down on the sofa opposite him.

  “Are you sure it’s Kath?”

  “Pretty sure. We need the pathologist to back it up with DNA results, however.”

  “Where?”

  Lorne inhaled a deep breath, preparing herself. “On the edge of a field about a mile or so from her home.”

  “So the person who abducted her likely killed her right away? Is that what you think?”

  “We have no way of knowing that at the moment, sir. Kath’s body was dismembered.”

  The man surprised her by burying his head in his hands and screaming.

  Lorne left her seat and knelt before him. “I’m sorry, I just thought you should know.”

  It was a while before he recovered enough to look at her. Tears brimming his eyes and his voice nothing more than a whisper, he said, “Please don’t tell me you’ve come here to arrest me? I could never do something as heinous as that to her—to anyone, come to that.”

  “No. We don’t suspect you. I just needed to tell you as you’re the only relative we have any contact with at present. I’m here to see if you can try and recall any of her relatives’ details. I realise it’s been a while since you were together, but something might be tucked in your mind if you dig deep enough.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t think of anyone. Maybe once the shock has died down…” He winced when he said the word died. “Give me a day or two. I’ll see if I can locate an old address book of mine. Perhaps that will be of use to you. My God, poor Kath. I know we fell out years ago, but I’d never wish anything like this on my worst enemy.”

  “It is terrible. All I can say is that we hope we can catch the person who did this soon, before he gets the chance to do it to someone else.”

  “How? How are you going to find the person? Did he leave any DNA evidence at the scene?”

  Lorne smiled at the man and returned to her seat. “We won’t know that for a few days yet, I’m afraid.”

  “Then I don’t envy your job, Inspector.”

  “Thank you. Not everyone would see a case through our eyes. Victims’ families often expect instant results from us, and following usual policing methods means that it just doesn’t happen that way.”

  “I can understand that if there are no clues to help you. So what’s the solution?”

  “There isn’t one. We wait until the forensic tests have been scrutinised and hope that something comes up in the meantime.”

  “What? Like another murder? Is this the second one you’re investigating?”

  “It is, in the same vicinity, too. It’s going to definitely be something that we’re going to look into, especially now.”

  “Maybe you should consider putting the area under surveillance, just in case.”

  Lorne shrugged. “In an ideal world, that would be the perfect answer, but with the cutbacks we’re wrestling every day, it’s just not practical. We better get back out there. I’m sorry the news couldn’t be brighter. Try and locate the information about her relatives and get back to me when you can. There are the funeral arrangements to consider, once the body has been released by the pathologist.”

  “I’ll do my best and be in touch with you shortly. Promise to do your best in catching Kath’s killer?”

  “That goes without saying.”

  Lorne and AJ left the shell-shocked man’s house and returned to the station. Upon their arrival, Karen told Lorne that Rebecca Walker-Scott had called the station, asking for an update.

  “What did you tell her, Karen?”

  “That I’d get you to ring her back as soon as you returned, boss.”

  “I’ll do that now. Anything else?”

  “No, nothing.”

  “I’ll ring her from my office. Looks like we’ve found Kath Brinck’s body now, team. We need to keep digging into the backgrounds of all the people on our radar in the hope that something finally crops up that will point us in the right direction.”

  Lorne picked up a coffee from the machine, sat down heavily in her chair, and took a few sips of her coffee before she rang Rebecca. “Hello, Rebecca. It’s DI Warner.”

  “Hello, Inspector. I just wondered if there was any news yet. It’s been a few days since I last saw you.”

  Lorne tutted. “I know, I’m sorry. The trouble is I have nothing to report as yet. How are you holding up?”

  “The funeral is tomorrow at eleven and the arrangements have taken their toll.”

  Lorne’s brow knitted. “I’m sure they have, what with all the wedding arrangements.”

  Rebecca sniffled. “The wedding is off, Inspector. Robert said it would be better to postpone the wedding.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. So you’ve postponed it for now?”

  “That’s what he said. Although I have a feeling that he no longer wants to marry me.”

  “Has he said why?” Lorne asked.

  “He said he was too busy with work to go through all the hassle a wedding drops on his doorstep.”

  What a heartless prick! “Maybe he’ll change his mind when things settle down a little.”

  Rebecca sighed. “Maybe. Although the little sympathy he has shown me over the past week has really made me consider why we were together in the first place.”

  The plot thickens. Why now? Why call off the wedding when the bride-to-be is grieving the loss of her mother? Unless… “That’s very sad. Perhaps things will alter once the funeral is out of the way. Grief affects people in different ways.”

  “I don’t think so. Not sure what I’m going to do now. I gave my all to that relationship, and now he’s kicked me in the teeth at a time when I need him the most.”

  Lorne had no idea how to reply to such a statement. When she’d met Gallagher, he was rude and insufferable, hardly a likeable character whom she could warm to. “What time is your mother’s funeral, Rebecca?” Lorne asked instead.

  “At eleven. I better let you get on with your work now. You don’t want to listen to me wallowing in self-pity all the time. Goodbye, Inspector.”

  Before Lorne could respond, Rebecca hung up. Lorne left her desk and re-joined her team. “Listen up, guys. I’ve just had an interesting conversation with Rebecca Walker-Scott, aside from telling me that her mother’s funeral is tomorrow at eleven. AJ, you and I will be attending that, so dress appropriately. She also informed me that her heartless fiancé has called off the wedding.”

  “Wow! Seriously?” Karen asked. “That is the lowest of the low to do such a thing while the woman is grieving.”

  “My thoughts exactly. So, I want us to dig, dig, dig into his background now. I know we’ve already scratched the surface on the initial search—now I want to know where he eats, sleeps, socialises, and even where he takes a shit. Got that? Obviously, his financial records should be top priority, too. There’s got to be a reason behind his callous behaviour, and I want to know what
it is. I’m going to chase up the formal ID on the body found in the bags, and then I’ll go back to the press and openly link the two cases.”

  The team put their heads down and returned to work with a renewed vigour. So far, the case had exasperated everyone else on the team. Where do you look for clues when there are none to be had? Lorne wondered.

  At around five that afternoon, AJ came into her office, waving a sheet of paper and grinning broadly. “You asked me to dig, and this is what I found.” He placed the sheet of paper on the desk in front of her and sat down.

  Lorne whistled. “So he’s a secret gambler, is he? Well, that’s interesting. I wonder if Rebecca and her mother were aware of this little gem.”

  “Maybe the mother found out, confronted him, and he killed her before she told Rebecca.”

  Lorne’s thoughts spun off in different directions. “Well, they did have an argument just before her death. I know the gardener and Robert both said it was about the wedding cars, but maybe it was more than that.”

  “Could have been. What do you want to do about it?” AJ asked.

  “We need to confine our enthusiasm on this for the time being, if only because of who he is. We have to have everything in place, assumptions and facts, before we tackle him head-on. Let me think about this overnight and get back to you. Good work, AJ. We’ll call it a day soon.”

  After AJ left the room, Lorne rang the pathology department. “Hi, Patti. It’s Lorne. Any news on the body in the black bags?”

  “I can confirm the ID and the cause of death but nothing more than that at this stage, Lorne.”

  “Kath Brinck, right?”

  “Yes. I believe she was alive when the killer started dismembering her body. Not pleasant, I know, but that’s a fact. Not sure what else I can tell you, except that.”

  “Thanks, Patti. Can you send the file over to me when you can?”

  “Of course. How are things with Charlie?”

  “Thanks, she’s getting there. Brandon was due to be released today. His mum is a nurse, so they’re sending him home for bed rest under the proviso that she looks after him. Poor boy, his confidence has taken a battering, excuse the pun.”

  “Only to be expected when you come that close to death, I suppose. A punctured lung and internal bleeding isn’t exactly a stroll in the park for a body to contend with.”

  “He’s got plenty of support, and Tony is doing his best to find the culprit. I’m calling it a day. Have a good evening, Patti.”

  “Ha, some hope of that happening. It’s all hands on deck around here. I’ve just been notified to expect several fatalities from a multiple pile-up on the M25. People will never learn to kill their speed before they end up killing themselves.”

  “Ain’t that the truth? Oh, by the way, AJ and I are attending the funeral of Nadine Walker-Scott tomorrow.”

  “Good luck with that. Not sure I would have the patience for that type of thing.”

  “Part of the job. Speak soon. I hope the evening isn’t too congested for you.”

  “Thanks, have a good one. Give my love to Charlie and Tony.”

  Lorne hung up, hitched on her jacket, and switched off the light to her office. She drove home to find Tony, Charlie and Carol sitting around the kitchen table, having a cuppa.

  “Can I join in?” she asked, smiling wearily as she flopped into a spare chair.

  Tony leaned over, kissed her cheek then made her a cup of strong coffee. He was a very perceptive man; knew her better than she knew herself at times. “Rough day?”

  “Is there any other type at the moment? I’m getting too old for this crap. How are you, Charlie?”

  She waved a dismissive hand in front of her. “I’m fine, Mum, no need to worry there. Brandon came home today. I thought I’d nip over and see him later.”

  Lorne stopped breathing, her heart pounded violently in her chest, and she turned sideways to Tony, who placed his hand over hers. “It’s all right. I’ve said I’ll play chauffeur for the evening.”

  She exhaled a deep breath. “Phew, that’s a relief. I know I can’t expect you to stop using your car and stay at home all the time, Charlie, but I’m not going to stop worrying until we’ve caught the madman who ran you guys off the road.”

  “No need to make excuses, Mum. I totally understand. I’m not confident to venture out alone anyway.”

  “He’ll be caught soon enough,” Carol said.

  “Help with his identity would do the trick,” Lorne said, hinting at Carol.

  She stood up. “I’m going home now, have some dinner, and then work on doing just that this evening. I’ll ring you if I come up with anything new.”

  “You don’t have to rush off. Have dinner with us this evening.”

  “No, I need to get back to feed the animals. Look after each other; I’ll be here at eight in the morning.”

  Lorne showed Carol out to her car and gave her a hug. “Thanks for keeping this place going while Charlie isn’t a hundred percent. We all really appreciate it.”

  “Nonsense, it’s my pleasure. Hopefully, I’ll have some news for you tomorrow, or later perhaps, if it’s not too late. Let me say one thing. You’re going to the funeral tomorrow, aren’t you? Be alert; things are likely to kick off.”

  “In what respect? I found out today that the victim’s daughter’s fiancé has dumped her and the marriage is off.”

  “Just keep an eye open. That’s all I can give you right now, love.”

  “Thanks, Carol. In this instance, I hope your instincts are wrong; I can do without the hassle. Have a good evening.” She watched Carol drive away then walked back into the house, contemplating her psychic friend’s warning.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Lorne snuggled into her black woollen coat. The cold, damp air and mist made her shudder. It was an ideal day for a funeral. AJ and Lorne surveyed the mourners with renewed interest after Carol’s warning. She was surprised to see Robert Gallagher there. Maybe he wasn’t a heartless bastard after all. She also noted that he kept his distance from Rebecca until the last moment. Rebecca stood alongside a few female friends, and just behind her were Mr. and Mrs. Davey. They appeared to be very upset, and Mrs. Davey in particular kept dabbing at her eyes. Her husband stood next to her, whispering words of encouragement in her ear.

  The hearse pulled up, and the congregation took their places inside the church. Lorne and AJ sat at the very back, mainly so they could have an excellent view on proceedings. Robert Gallagher wasn’t a pallbearer, as Lorne had suspected he would be. He sat on the bench next to Rebecca, staring straight ahead, not offering any words of sympathy to her as the coffin was transported up the aisle to where the priest awaited it.

  “How can someone turn up and be so cold towards Rebecca?” Lorne asked out of the corner of her mouth.

  “At least he turned up,” AJ whispered back.

  She kept an eye on the couple throughout the service, but things didn’t get heated until the group moved to the burial site.

  “Did you see that?” Lorne asked AJ.

  “No, where? Oh, I see. Hmm… seems like something is about to kick off. Should we get closer?”

  “Definitely.” Lorne discreetly inched towards Robert Gallagher, who was talking to a man in a black suit. Nothing unusual about that at a funeral. However, the man looked totally out of place. His head was shaven, but he was sporting a ginger goatee beard. “Damn, I can’t hear. Can you get closer, AJ, without them noticing you? Try and get a photo of the guy on your phone if you get a chance.”

  “I’ll try.” AJ slipped through the crowd and stood in front of the men. He had his back to them and was facing Lorne.

  AJ soon got involved when the men raised their voices and started pushing each other. He turned around and stood between them. “Do we really need to create a scene here, gents?” Lorne heard AJ say as she walked closer to the three of them.

  “Mind your own business. Who the fuck are you anyway?” the bald-headed man demanded.
<
br />   Lorne produced her warrant card and shoved it in his face before he could aim any punches in AJ’s direction. “DI Warner, and the man you’re aiming abuse at is my partner, DS Jackson. You might want to tone down your voice and show a little respect, given your surroundings. If not, we’ll arrest you for disturbing the peace.”

  The man laughed. Lorne felt all the mourners’ eyes on them. “Robert and I were just having a friendly chat, until you stuck your unwanted oar in.”

  “Sorry, but if that was a friendly chat, then I’m Scooby Doo’s mistress. Why don’t you calm down and leave your discussion for another time, eh?”

  “Whatever.” The man shrugged. He glared at Robert and snarled. “This discussion ain’t finished. You owe me, man, and I’ll be collecting what’s due soon. Ta-ta for now.”

  Robert Gallagher’s eyes narrowed when he turned to face Lorne. “Did you have to interfere?”

  “I’m sorry? You are aware that this is the funeral of your fiancée’s mother—sorry, I should correct myself. Your ex-fiancée. Why cause a ruckus here, of all places? Who was that man, and what did he want?”

  “I’m aware of what day it is, Inspector. As to the man, I think you’ll find that is no concern of yours.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Gallagher. Anyone causing a scene at a murder victim’s graveside is very much our business. I repeat, who was he?”

  “I’m not prepared to say.”

  Lorne smiled, remembering her recent chat with Tony about renewing her kick-arse attitude. “Maybe a trip down to the station will loosen your tongue.”

  “And maybe you should reconsider bandying about idle threats to a barrister, Inspector.”

  Before she could challenge him further, Rebecca approached them and stood beside Lorne. “What’s going on? How dare you create a scene, Robert—today of all days? How could you?” Rebecca’s voice shook, and tears cascaded down her flushed cheeks.

  “It wasn’t intentional. Turn the tap off, Rebecca. You should be all cried out by now,” Robert sneered, his irritation evident in the way he was looking at his ex-fiancée.

 

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