by M A Comley
He slumped back into his chair, his brow furrowed. “I was asked to keep it quiet, ma’am.”
“Any specific reason?”
“The person wished to remain anonymous. I wouldn’t want to break that promise, ma’am.”
“Not even to save your own skin?”
“Sorry, I’m not with you.”
“What if the evidence in this case suddenly pointed in your direction? If your name rocketed to the top of our suspect list, would you divulge the name then, Constable?”
He sat upright again and wrung his hands nervously on the desk in front of him. “If that’s the case, then I suppose I wouldn’t have an option. Is it the case, ma’am? Am I your number-one suspect?”
“Who was it?” she asked, ignoring his question.
He gulped noisily and looked down at his hands. “If I tell you, is there any way you can keep my name out of it? I’d hate for the person to think I couldn’t be trusted in the future.”
“You have my word. Who was it, Patrick?” she asked, her voice softening a little.
He covered his face with his hand and whispered, “Caroline.”
Sally glanced at Jack, her eyes widening as it dawned on her that Caroline was a redhead. Jack leapt out of his chair and left the room.
Looking worried, Patrick watched Jack exit the room and turned back to Sally. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Sally shook her head. “How naïve could you be, Patrick?”
“I’m not with you, ma’am...”
“Two people during our investigation have referred to a redheaded woman. How well did your partner know your wife?”
“They’d met occasionally at the odd police function, nothing more than that.”
“Can you think of any reason why Caroline would visit Aisha on the day of her death?”
“What? No. Is that what happened? She never told me. Why would she visit Aisha and not mention it?”
Sally rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. “I can think of one reason in particular. How well do you actually know your partner, Patrick?”
“No, she wouldn’t have... I thought I knew her well. We’ve always got on together. I admit it was a little strained for a little while.”
“Strained? What do you mean?”
He sighed heavily. “No one knew around here. If they’d found out, we would have been forced to work with different partners. Caroline and I used to go out together.”
Sally tutted and ran a hand through her hair. “For Christ’s sake, and it never crossed your mind to mention this to me at the beginning of this investigation? Are you nuts?”
His eyes watered, and he shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Not Caroline.”
Jack burst into the room. “I’ve put her next door.”
“Thanks, Jack. Constable Thomas here has just told me something very interesting—he and Caroline used to be lovers.”
Jack banged his fist on the table. “What the fuck? You didn’t think we should know about that?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I don’t believe it... I’m in shock right now. I want to see her.”
“No way. I can’t allow that. Go back to work. We’ll be in touch later today. Not a word to anybody about this, all right?”
The three of them left the room. Jack stood in front of the door to the interview room next door, blocking Patrick’s way just in case he had a rash notion to barge into the room and confront his partner.
Once they felt Patrick was far enough away, Sally and Jack entered the room and sat down opposite a startled Caroline. “Hello, Constable Hawk. Thanks for taking the time to see us today. We have a few questions we’d like to ask concerning the cold case we’re working on. I’m going to tape this interview. Jack, if you’d like to do the honours?”
Jack started the recording and announced the date, time, and who was present in the room. Sally didn’t take her eyes off Caroline, whose gaze was pinned to a point on the wall above Sally’s head.
“All right if I call you Caroline?”
The constable nodded but still kept her gaze fixed in position.
“Wonderful! I know how busy you are, so I’d like to get straight to the point. How well did you know Aisha Thomas?”
Caroline’s gaze dropped to Sally then swiftly returned to the wall. “I didn’t. Met her a few times. Why?”
“Well enough to call at her house for an occasional cuppa, perhaps.”
The constable shook her head in defiance. “No, never. Oh wait, yes, Patrick and I called in once when we were in the area. No other time.”
“Ah, now this is where we have a problem. You see, one of Aisha’s neighbours said they saw you enter the back garden of the Thomas house on the day of the murder. Can you explain why?”
Her gaze dropped to Sally, and her eyes expanded with what appeared to be fear. “Impossible. It couldn’t have been me.”
“Oh dear, that’s not so good. In that case, you wouldn’t mind standing in a line-up once we’ve apprehended the suspect, right?”
“Are you for real? I’m a serving police officer. There’s no way I’m standing in a line-up.”
“You’re refusing to help us with our enquiries? May I ask the reason behind your objection?”
“I’ve just told you. I’m a serving police officer, and I don’t have to do it,” she replied through gritted teeth.
“Not even when a superior officer has instructed you to do so?”
“No. Look, your time would be better spent investigating the case properly rather than hounding me to take part in some Mickey Mouse line-up.”
“Thanks for the advice. I’ll do things my way, if it’s all the same to you, as I’m the only inspector in this room.”
“Whatever.”
“We have the DNA found at the scene anyway that we need to sift through. I’ll be needing a sample from you before this interview has ended, if only to exclude you from our enquiries, you understand.”
“And if I’m not prepared to give you a sample? They’re voluntary, after all.”
“Then that would make me delve into your background to see what you’re hiding and what you’re afraid of showing up. Why are you trying to hinder my investigation, Constable?”
“I’m not. Why don’t you leave well enough alone? Patrick has been beside himself since the day he heard his wife’s case had been reopened. Why would you put a colleague through all that pain and anguish?”
“Simple. To get to the truth. Anyway, I dispute what you’re saying. We’ve just interviewed Patrick. Here’s the thing: he told us something that really sparked our interest.”
Caroline glared. “What?”
“Any idea what he might have told us?”
“Haven’t got a clue. I’m not into guessing games.”
“Why did you do it, Caroline? Jealousy? What was your motivation?”
“Do what? You’ve lost me.”
“Kill Aisha. Was it because Patrick dumped you?”
Caroline’s mouth twisted as if she were busy chewing on the inside of her cheek. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. What is this? You’re pissed off with not being able to find a plausible suspect, so you come banging on my door? This is just too bizarre for words, ma’am,” she said angrily, emphasising her final word.
Sally ignored her outburst and pressed on. “So, let me walk through the scenario playing out in my mind. Patrick dumped you, fell in love with Aisha, and they got married quickly. By all accounts, they were head over heels in love, so you thought you’d get rid of her and be there for him during his grief. How am I doing so far?”
“With respect, ma’am, you’re talking a load of shit.”
“Am I? Okay, I’ll continue with the scenario. However, things didn’t pan out for you as expected, did they? Patrick was so wrapped up in his grief that he neglected to see how desperate you were for him to confide in you, to see you as something more than just work colleagues again, but that boat had sailed out onto
the wide blue yonder, hadn’t it?”
Caroline chewed her bottom lip, and her eyes screwed up into tiny slits. “Wrong. Try again.”
“Am I? What’s it like for the man you fell in love with all those years ago to end a relationship, Caroline? It hurts, doesn’t it? Damages the heart, never for it to recover, right? I am right in thinking that you’re single now?”
“So what’s that got to do with anything? You’re talking shite.”
“I don’t think so. You had the ideal opportunity. Patrick had volunteered to work extra hours that evening, and you knew the likelihood of him coming home early was zilch. Therefore, it was the ideal opportunity to make your move. How am I doing?”
“Ever thought of being an author, ma’am? That’s a pretty vivid imagination you have. It would be a shame to waste such a talent.”
“And that’s a pretty sarcastic tongue you have in your head, Constable.” Sally heaped on the pressure, hoping to see a chink in Caroline’s obstinate façade. “I’m intrigued. Did the conversation ever arise between you?”
“What conversation?”
“About you and Patrick getting back together again. You sharing his bed once more, now that his wife was no longer an obstacle?”
She shook her head and laughed. “Are you sure you should be an inspector, ma’am? Because you’re saying things a shrink would say.”
“And when was the last time you visited your psychiatrist, Caroline? Recently?”
The constable’s glare intensified. “That’s none of your goddamn business.”
“So, you admit to seeing one then. May I ask why?”
“No. It’s personal.”
“Was it hard dealing with the rejection? Working alongside him every day, not being able to touch him, to whisper sweet nothings, unable to hug him when he needed a hug?”
Tears welled up in Caroline’s eyes. “He was even more out of reach when she died.”
“Sorry, can you repeat that louder for the recording? Are you saying that you were hoping to rekindle the love you once had with Patrick?”
She threw herself back in the chair and placed her hands on her head. “Yes. We were soulmates until the day he met her, then everything changed between us. She wasn’t good enough for him. She hounded him for a child he didn’t want, even took out that damn loan without his knowledge. What sort of devotion is that from a wife?”
“So you killed her?”
“Yes! All right? Yes, I killed her. I couldn’t take it anymore. Listening to him complain about how he couldn’t perform in bed and that she had been driven to seek out fertility treatment because of his inability to father a child in the normal way.”
“Really? She said that? He told you that? Or was it all up here?” Sally prodded her temple with her finger.
Caroline fell silent for a moment.
“Where did Wilson and Jenkinson enter the equation? You are the one who ended their lives, too, yes?”
“Bloody idiots. They were a nuisance to society. Patrick and I had picked them up a few times, slapped their wrists, and always sent them on their way. It didn’t prevent them from robbing someone else’s home in the neighbourhood. I put paid to their shenanigans because no one else was prepared to bang them up. The opportunity arose to point the investigating officer in their direction, and I jumped on it.”
“How did they end up dead?”
A huge smirk developed on her face. “That was easy. I made out I was a bent copper, dangled a lucrative job under their nose. They hopped in my car, and I drove them out to the forest to a supposed meeting with a top man. The gullible idiots took my word for it, and I finished them off.”
“You thought you had got away with three perfect murders, but the thing is, you screwed up, Caroline. If you’d only killed Aisha and gone on your way, this case would never have been reopened. Once Wilson and Jenkinson’s bodies were discovered, it blew the case wide open.”
“Not sure how.”
“You’re forgetting one minor detail—the bite mark on Aisha’s arm. It didn’t match either burglar.” Sally aimed an imaginary gun at the constable and pulled the trigger. “Pow! Game over.”
Suddenly, the door burst open and Patrick stormed into the room, heading straight for Caroline. Jack tipped his chair in his haste to prevent Patrick from getting to Caroline, but it was too late.
“No, Patrick!” Sally shouted when she saw something glinting in his hand.
Jack tussled with Patrick, grabbing his arm when he broke free. But by that time, Caroline was lying on the floor, blood spouting from the wound in her neck where the knife was embedded. “Why? You crazy fucking bitch, why did you have to kill her?”
Tears trickled from Caroline’s eyes. She lifted her head two inches off the ground, and the movement took her breath away. “Because I loved you,” she managed to say before the light faded from her eyes.
EPILOGUE
Over the coming few days, Sally and her team tied up all the loose ends to what had been a heartbreaking and frustrating case.
A search of Caroline’s flat had uncovered several pieces of Aisha’s jewellery and numerous pictures of Patrick pinned to a notice board beside her bed. Poor Patrick didn’t have a clue. Sally felt sorry for the man who had lost the love of his life through someone else’s obsession with him, but that didn’t excuse the fact that he had punished his partner by killing her before she had been brought to justice. Sally promised to put in a good word for him with the Crown Prosecution Service. She was prepared to plead with them to go with a lesser charge.
Another force had finally arrested the paedophile Drake, who was on remand, awaiting a court appearance after admitting that he had touched up several pupils at Highfield School. He’d warned the kids that if they spoke out against him, terrible things would happen to their family members. The children were receiving counselling at the school.
The man guilty of vandalising her car and torturing Dex, Frank Little, was picked up the day after the warrant was served, and he was also awaiting trial at the remand centre.
After sitting down with their colleagues for a celebratory drink, Jack dropped Sally home on Friday night. He and Donna were heading off for the weekend without any kids in tow. Sally had her own exciting weekend to look forward to—she was about to meet Simon’s parents.
Sunday lunch came and went without a hitch, and Simon insisted on dropping her home. He pulled the car to a stop at the end of her road and switched off the engine.
“Okay, what’s going on?” Sally asked, tilting her head.
He turned in his seat to face her. “Well, now we’ve both met our respective parents, where do we go from here?”
“I thought you were driving me home,” Sally said, feigning confusion.
“Sally Parker, you would bloody drive a nun into prostitution.”
“Really? Not sure how you work that one out.” She sighed heavily. “All right, yes.”
“Yes?”
Sally leant forward and kissed his open mouth. “Yes, I’ll move in with you... on one proviso.”
“Name it.”
“We have joint custody of Dex. We have him at the weekend. How’s that?”
“Of course, it goes without saying.”
“Right, take me home. You can break the news to Mum and Dad.”
His mouth dropped open again.
“I’m kidding, you bloody idiot. They’ll be delighted for us, I promise.”
He kissed her, pulled away, and held her face between his hands. “I promise you only good times from this day forward. I will never disrespect you or mistreat you. I give you my word on that.”
“I know. I love you, Simon Bracknall, for being the type of man every woman is desperate to have in her life.”
“I love you, too, Sally Parker, just for being you.”
THE END
NOTE TO THE READER
Dear Reader,
What a heart-wrenching read that was.
The question is; did Sally
and her team enjoy tackling a cold case enough to investigate more of them in the future?
There are some tough decisions on every front to challenge Sally in the next book.
Yet another case that will touch your heart, I guarantee it.
Get your copy today.
Deadly Encounter
Thank you for your support as always.
M A Comley
Reviews are a fantastic way of reaching out and showing an author how much you appreciate their work – so leave one today if you will.
