Secrets of the Dead: A serial killer thriller that will have you hooked (Detective Robyn Carter crime thriller series Book 2)

by Carol Wyer

  ‘I understand from Sergeant Higham that you were out chasing a “hot lead” yesterday afternoon. Is that code for I’m desperately trying to find something so my boss doesn’t take my case away from me?’

  Robyn shrugged. ‘I actually do have something now. There are definite links between the death of Rory Wallis and Linda Upton. They are both connected to Harriet Worth, who died back in 2012. Here’s the old case file.’ She had been studying it most of the night and knew exactly what it contained.

  ‘Harriet Worth was at Bromley Hall hotel and spa with her friend Linda Upton, when she slipped and fell into the pool. The incident took place out of hours. The pool area ought to have been locked but it was not, and Harriet, who had been in the Champagne Bar all evening, found her way into the spa, where she undressed in preparation for a swim. At that time there wasn’t the security or cameras that there are today in the new extension of the hotel spa. Harriet’s body wasn’t found until the next morning, by which time she was dead.

  ‘The coroner’s report revealed that a blow to Harriet’s head, which he believed was caused by a fall, had rendered her unconscious and that she had subsequently fallen into the water and drowned. Forensics discovered blood on the tiled surround of the pool that matched the victim’s own, and deduced she had fallen into the pool, hitting her head on the surround as she fell. They also discovered the flooring by the pool was wet from a leaking shower that was due to be fixed that morning, and that a sign warning people of the danger of slipping had been placed in the appropriate place.’

  ‘Where are you going with this, DI Carter?’ asked Mulholland, wiping her nose on a tissue. She popped a throat lozenge into her mouth.

  ‘Harriet Worth’s death was declared accidental. However, her husband wanted to take the case to court and sue the spa hotel, and the couple who owned it. In the end, he settled out of court for one and a half million pounds, on the condition the spa was closed.’

  Robyn paused to make sure Louisa was following her argument. ‘It was Linda Upton’s suggestion that they took a spa break. The man serving them champagne that night was Rory Wallis. There is a connection. The notes left on both the dead bodies are invoices for a quarter of a million pounds each. If I’m right, we have a killer who is seeking revenge for Harriet’s death. Not only that, I think he will kill again, and soon. He is not hanging about.’

  ‘You believe there are possibly four more people on his hit list?’

  ‘I think so, unless Miles Ashbrook was one of those he wanted dead.’

  Mulholland’s face changed. ‘You’re not going to worry about that particular angle, are you?’

  ‘No, ma’am. It was merely a thought. I want to interview anyone who was working at Bromley Hall at the time Harriet died. I want to concentrate on the staff at this stage, but I’ll also get my team to track down any guests who were there in July 2012.’

  ‘I don’t have a problem with that. Go ahead.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am. So, I’m still in charge of this case?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Mulholland. ‘You’ve got enough to be going on with. I hear you might even have another lead.’

  ‘Mitz and Anna interviewed a witness who spotted a vehicle leaving Kings Bromley the morning Linda Upton was murdered. At the moment we don’t have much. They’re searching databases for a 2014 silver Fiat 500.’

  ‘Okay. That’s good. Can I remind you that unorthodox methods of investigating won’t be tolerated on this occasion, DI Carter? I know in the past I have turned a blind eye to you and your team’s methods, but I can’t afford to this time. You need to be seen to be adhering to protocol. Clear?’

  ‘Excuse me, ma’am, I know I have had to take the odd liberty to get results, but I have always got those results. We have a killer to catch, and if I have to follow my instincts to do so, then surely that should be acceptable.’

  ‘No, DI Carter, it is not. Not this time, and if I hear you have, I’ll have no option but to replace you. Robyn, I only have your best interests at heart.’

  ‘Is this because of Shearer? Has he threatened to report you if you don’t keep me reined in?’

  The moment of silence that followed was all the confirmation she needed. Robyn stared hard at her superior. ‘I won’t be bullied or intimidated by that man. Nor should you.’

  ‘It’s not a question of bullying. It is for your own good. You don’t want to be a DI forever, do you?’

  ‘At the moment, I don’t care. I just want to do my job, and my job is to find whoever is responsible for killing Linda Upton and Rory Wallis.’

  Mulholland paused as if she wanted to say something else, and Robyn waited for her to speak. The moment passed and she found herself dismissed.

  She had no sooner entered her office than her mobile rang. It was Ross.

  ‘Hi, cuz. Got a few interesting bits and pieces for you.’

  ‘Hi, Ross. Your timing is perfect. I was about to call you. There’s been a breakthrough here and I have a possible link to Bromley Hall.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll keep it brief. I can’t access the CCTV footage. There’s an outside control box on the sauna wall which can be operated with a key. The temperature of the sauna can be overridden by this box, so someone could raise the temperature without anyone inside the sauna being any the wiser. The in-house handyman and the gym manager hold the keys to the box. It is therefore possible that Miles Ashbrook was unaware of how hot it was in the sauna, which would explain how he got so cooked overnight.

  ‘Miles Ashbrook was disliked by several members of staff. He’d recently begun firing individuals and there was a fair amount of bad feeling towards him. There’s speculation that Jakub Woźniak, who is in charge of cleaning the spa and pool areas, threatened to kill Miles, although that has yet to be confirmed. He challenged a decision to fire his wife Emily, and was overheard arguing with and threatening Miles. I haven’t interviewed Jakub or the person who heard the conversation yet, although we have a name of a guest who can help with that – Fiona Maggiore. It might be better if you conduct that interview on a more official basis.

  ‘I’ve been unable to talk to Scott Dawson. Sorry. He was in meetings or taking classes every time I tried to speak to him. We’re checking out in the next hour. I’ll type all my findings up for you and send them over as soon as I get back to the office. I’ve drawn some layout sketches of the spa that I’ll scan and send too.’

  ‘Thanks, Ross. I’ll talk to Jakub and Fiona. Don’t forget to bill me for your time.’

  ‘I’m happy to give you that information for free. You paid for our spa break. Besides, I enjoyed snooping about. Although it isn’t case-related, this place is full of secrets. The old spa area was dug up and the pool filled in after a guest drowned in it. You can’t get anyone here to talk about it, although one of the guests was more obliging. I’ll tell you when I see you.’ He could picture Robyn’s face, cheeks sucked in as she digested his words.

  ‘That’s very interesting. I think I might already have that information though. It was Harriet Worth who drowned. I’ve got to have a quick meeting with my team and then I’m coming over to Bromley Hall. I’ll see you at reception about two o’clock when you check out.’

  Sleep-deprived faces etched with lines rose when she spoke. The cases were beginning to take their toll on her team. Even Mitz, who was always immaculately turned out, had stubble on his chin and deep purple bruises under his eyes. ‘Mitz, you’re with me. Matt, find out what you can about Harriet Worth – track down old girlfriends and see if you can get any more information surrounding her death. David, are you okay with searching for the silver Fiat?’ He gave a mock salute.

  ‘Anna, you still have that CCTV footage from the night Miles Ashbrook died, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  ‘Please go through the entire night carefully. I still can’t shake the fact that Ashbrook’s death is somehow related to all of this. Look for anything suspicious. Check the timings for when you see Miles appear and an
y other strange activity in or around the sauna.’ Matt threw her a look that she ignored. She was not going to be browbeaten on this, and she didn’t care if Shearer reported her or caused trouble. She was going to try and establish, once and for all, that Miles Ashbrook’s death was not an accident.

  Thirty-Three

  Jakub breathed in the cold afternoon air and pedalled harder. His face was again wet from the persistent drizzle and he shivered. It had turned dark earlier than usual thanks to the heavy black clouds and he wanted nothing more than to get home and see Emily and his son, Adam. Whenever he was on an early shift he would ensure he got home in time to play hide and seek with the boy. It was his son’s favourite game, and always resulted in him being found and tickled until he cried with laughter. Soon Adam would be too old for such high jinks, but, in time, the new baby would also enjoy the game. If they had another boy they had decided to call him Tobias, after Jakub’s father. His father would be very proud.

  In spite of the bad weather, Jakub felt satisfied with his lot. He had a fine family, and although they struggled at times, he was lucky to have them. Emily had sent a text that afternoon to say she had an interview for a new job. Suddenly the pressure was easing off. He only needed to get the wretched car fixed and all would be fine. The garage had promised he could collect it the following day. He’d be glad to get it back. He was fed up with riding the bike morning and night in all manner of weather conditions.

  He looked forward to some warmth, a cooked meal and sitting in front of the television, watching football once Adam was in bed. He freewheeled down the stretch that passed a disused glider field. Only the year before, he had watched the white planes as they passed overhead soundlessly, and wondered what it would be like to be in the cockpit of one. He imagined it would be akin to being a bird in flight, swooping and diving, catching the thermals and gliding high above the fields and the Hall. The gliding school had since shut down and now the land was for sale.

  He passed the crossroads, changed gear and was preparing to pedal up the slope when he lost control of the bike. It skidded on the incline and, catching it in time before it toppled over, Jakub dismounted and swore loudly. His front tyre was as flat as could be. How had that happened? He’d only checked the bike that morning. He must have ridden over something sharp. He pulled out his mobile to alert Emily and get assistance when he spotted headlights approaching from the direction of the Hall. Thinking he might be able to catch a lift or some assistance, he stood in the road and waved his hands. The car was travelling very slowly, almost too slowly. In his high-visibility jacket, the driver would be sure to spot him. Jakub smiled to himself as the vehicle approached. He recognised the car and knew the driver. He wouldn’t have to walk home after all. He waved again to make sure he’d been seen and waited for the car to halt beside him. The car, however, did not stop. Jakub’s smile faded as the car suddenly accelerated and headed towards him at speed. He knew he should dive out of the way yet he was frozen to the spot, helpless, unable to move and, although his brain screamed at him, he stood, arms dangling by his side, mouth open in surprise as the car drove at him. He felt absolutely nothing as he rose high into the air, fields spinning below him as he soared. His felt like a bird flying. At last he understood the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that birds experienced.

  He dropped back on the tarmac, broken and unconscious. The driver checked his rear-view mirror before reversing the car. He got out and bent over Jakub’s prone form, kicking it lightly. When it made no noise, he pushed a rolled-up piece of paper into Jakub’s trouser pocket, before returning to the car and speeding off down the road.

  Thirty-Four

  The rain was falling steadily as Robyn drove out of Stafford. Traffic was incessant, and the oncoming vehicles cast gloomy yellow lights on the large puddles forming in the roads. She cursed as they were held up at yet another set of traffic lights and crawled slowly to the junction.

  Mitz had been quiet since they’d left the station and she had initially believed that he too was feeling the weight of the case. She had jollied him along, asking about his latest blind date; Mitz had an endless stream of blind dates that invariably ended disastrously. He smirked for a moment.

  ‘I went on one last Friday. I thought I’d cracked this one. She was very beautiful. It went well, or so I thought until the end, when we parted. I went in for the kill and she patted me on the shoulder. Patted! I ask you,’ he joked. For a moment some sparkle had returned to his eyes.

  Robyn had a great deal of respect for the young man. He had worked tirelessly and had recently been promoted to sergeant. Silence fell as she navigated the cluttered roundabouts of Stafford, now filled with anxious shoppers getting their early Christmas bargains. It seemed to start earlier every year. That reminded her, she had to buy Amélie a gift, and she still had their day out to arrange. She finally gathered some speed on the road past Cannock Chase. Brown bracken and the soggy branches of trees added to the gloomy picture.

  She glanced at Mitz, whose mind seemed elsewhere. ‘Everything okay?’

  Mitz shook his head slowly. ‘Not really. My super Granny Manju passed away yesterday afternoon.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Robyn was deeply saddened by the news. Not only was Manju a truly unique lady who was incredibly proud of her grandson, but she knew how close Mitz was to her. This would have shaken him badly. ‘You should take some time off.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, boss. Granny Manju taught me many things and was proud of what I had achieved. She was so happy when I made sergeant this year. She would want me to find this killer, not mope about at home.

  ‘The funeral will be next Tuesday. The Indian ceremony will be at one o’clock, and the cremation at two. Just like my gran’s home, everyone is welcome, so if you have a chance…’

  ‘I’ll be there. She was a wonderful lady.’

  There was silence again. Eventually Mitz spoke. ‘Boss, I left the scene of an investigation yesterday. I left my junior officer in charge. It was most unprofessional of me. I was going to remain quiet about it, then I thought that was wrong too.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I got the call from my mother saying Granny Manju was dying and I rushed off to see her for the last time. I phoned Anna and she took over. I’d been waiting to interview a bus driver. He had information on the man spotted at the bus stop. Instead, Anna got the information and acted on it. I should have been there. It could have gone horribly wrong and Anna could have been hurt worse than she was.’

  ‘You assisted with the man’s capture, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did. When I got to the house, Manju had slipped away. I’d missed my chance. I paid my respects and had a few words with my parents, after which I immediately rejoined Anna.’

  ‘There were extenuating circumstances for your departure and you did absolutely the right thing by returning. That shows dedication. Is Anna okay?’

  ‘She got thumped in the nose, but she’s all right. The medical officer checked her over. I insisted. Anna knows she shouldn’t have gone off after a suspect like that. I didn’t want her disciplined. She’s a bright officer. With hindsight, I ought to have reported it. I feel bad about the whole episode, and I don’t like covering up stuff.’

  Mitz looked deflated and miserable. Robyn threw him a kindly smile. ‘I wouldn’t give it a second thought. I’m quite satisfied you behaved appropriately. Now forget all about it.’

  ‘But what if I had stayed at the house longer? Anna could have been seriously injured.’

  ‘There are no “what ifs”. All is well. You apprehended a potential suspect and obtained information that will prove useful. We are a step closer thanks to your actions. Now drop it or I’ll be forced to play you my collection of eighties dance music.’

  They left the main road and sped down wide lanes towards their destination, unimpeded by traffic, and fifteen minutes later, at two thirty, drew up outside Bromley Hall. Virginia creeper covered the façade. In autumn its l
eaves turned flame-red, setting the Hall on fire, but it was in its winter state now, a huge network of dark veins that spidered up the brickwork to the very top of the building. She turned to face her colleague, an elbow on the wheel. ‘Come on, Sergeant Patel, let’s see if we can make some headway.’

  A serious-faced young man in a porter’s outfit stood by reception, waiting to assist any guests. He saw Robyn and Mitz enter, and scooted forward. Ross intercepted him.

  ‘It’s okay, Dan. They’re with me.’

  The man bowed his head with a deep-throated, ‘No problem, sir.’ Robyn tried not to stare at the young man’s right ear, which was rather large and stuck out, and instead gave him a tight smile. He nodded at her.

  ‘Dan!’ A young woman on reception beckoned to him and he darted off.

  ‘He’s a porter-come-dogsbody,’ said Ross, when Dan was out of earshot. ‘He’s bit of an oddball. Doesn’t like chatting and spends most of the day staring into space. He’s the first young man I’ve ever met who isn’t always on his smartphone. Inoffensive though.’

  They moved into the Long Galley with its plush furnishing and thick embroidered curtains, and found a quiet corner near a cabinet of china. They dropped down onto the elegant sofas and chatted in low voices as Ross imparted all the information he had uncovered. Mitz made notes while Robyn sat forward, listening intently to Ross’s every word.

  ‘This place used to be owned by a wealthy family – the Bishtons – who sold out in 2013. They kept the large mansion near the Hall and still spend time here, although they spend the greater part of the year travelling and have a place in Thailand. No one is in the house at the moment, so I couldn’t talk to either Lord or Lady Bishton. However, I learned Lord Bishton is returning for an annual hunt ball that takes place this coming Sunday. He’s rarely around, so if you want to interview him, you’ll need to get an appointment with his secretary. He’s due home Friday morning but is only staying until Tuesday.’