by Tara Lyons
‘No.’ He placed both feet on the floor.
‘Did you hang around Calvin’s apartment and then follow Felicity in Mel’s car?’
‘No.’ His jaw tightened.
‘Did you murder Felicity Ireland?’
‘No! I did not!’ he yelled, and slammed his fist on the table.
21
The last forty-eight hours have shocked me. I feel more alone and confused than ever before. Felicity told me nothing. Her begging squeals caused the anger inside of me to combust. I had considered freeing her, after a bit of torture, of course, you understand. She deserved it. But the drone of her voice: I haven’t done anything wrong. Donna, please stop this. I don’t understand. It drove me wild.
Can you remember a time when someone told you they saw red? The mist descended, and they attacked. “Blah, blah, bloody blah” is what I used to think to that. We all make our own decisions in life. But I understand now. I felt the mist of uncontrollable anger as I whacked her over the skull with the hammer that had been resting against the table in my shed.
It was her own fault. She unleashed the dark beast. The one I do so well to supress on a daily basis. Especially where my friends are concerned. Well, the people I consider my friends, anyway.
Becky, and then Warren, were premeditated. Planned. On both of those nights, I knew they would die; there was no other option for them. They were disloyal. I was prepared to give Felicity a chance. All she had to do was tell the truth about her friends. Instead, she whinged and wined and demanded answers. I’m in control now, stupid fucking bitch.
Why are you doing this?
Please stop hurting me.
I don’t understand.
I laughed at her. Even in the face of death, Felicity’s arrogant nature shone through. Always wanting things done her way. Always wanting something from someone else. She never gave me any credit, and that’s why she couldn’t see that I know everything.
After the spiders, I unleashed the rat. Watched with excitement as it headed straight for Felicity’s body. I’d laid a trap in the dank alleyway near my house and waited weeks. The gigantic rodent, with a tale as fat as its hairy body. Its beady, black eyes bulged, and its nose twitched, ravenous for food after being deprived. It had to wait until I had Felicity in place. Okay, maybe it was premediated, because would I have really rescued her from a flesh-eating parasite?
Probably not.
The rat punctured Felicity’s hands and arms, its thirst for blood finally being satisfied. Its squeals of delight were deafening in the small wooden outhouse, and for a second, I worried the neighbours might hear. But the botulism paralysis had already kicked in, worked its magic on Felicity’s respiratory system, and I could see the fear in her widened eyes. I smiled.
You see, I saw them together. That bastard, yanking Felicity’s T-shirt over her pert and pale tits. Their tongues entwined, as Warren’s greedy hands wandered all over her perfect body.
I didn’t care. Not really. But I knew the effect it would have on all of us.
I was prepared to give Felicity another chance. If she just told me what I needed to know. If she just told me where they’d hidden Donna’s body.
22
Hamilton strolled into the public house and made a beeline for Billy, who sat in the corner of the pub with two full pints of beer in front of him. The desire to down the contents of the frosted glass overwhelmed Hamilton. Not a vice he’d given in to for many years, but the stress of the day had caught up with him.
Frustratingly, the majority of his day had been spent with DCI Allen, who had been summoned to Scotland Yard for a press conference. As the Senior Investigating Officer on the Warren Speed and Felicity Ireland case, Hamilton’s presence was expected by those demanding answers. While away from the office, his team continued to plough through surveillance footage, phone records, and travel history, but the Newcombs still hadn’t been located. He dismissed his team from the incident room, instructing them to have an hour break before returning. His watch hit 8 p.m. as he pulled the chair from underneath the wooden table and joined Billy.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asked.
His old friend snorted. ‘What do you mean, mate? We made plans yesterday … that’s why you’re here too.’
‘Well, considering your sister-in-law was murdered last night, I think a knees-up in your local is a little inappropriate. Don’t you, mate?’
Billy’s pupils dilated, and despite the tense silence that fell between them, his eyes never left Hamilton’s gaze.
‘I … How? I just …’
‘What, Billy, what do you want to know? How I found out? I’m a fucking copper, you idiot. I saw you let yourself into Dorinda Ireland’s home, after I’d told her Felicity was brutally tortured and murdered. I contacted the Family Liaison Officer earlier today, and she confirmed Dorinda’s partner, William Thorn, also lived at the address. Now you know what I know, care to tell me what the hell you’re playing at?’ Hamilton pushed the pint of beer to one side, leaving his clenched fist on the table.
Billy’s chest rose and fell at rapid speed, but his face remained calm. ‘Yes, what you’ve discovered is correct. But I had to come and see you, regardless of what’s happening. Maybe even more so.’
‘Stop with the riddles. I don’t have time for this. Where were you the night Felicity was murdered.’
His old friend flinched. ‘What? I was at your house. You spoke to me, for heaven’s sake, Den. Do you really think if anything dodgy was going on, I’d approach you? Don’t forget; I came to you before Felicity was murdered.’
‘No, you came before her body was found.’ Hamilton paused, searching Billy’s face, witnessing nothing but sadness. ‘Okay, so why? Why now?’
‘I’ve been with Dorinda for three years, and we have a beautiful daughter called Amelia.’ Billy glanced away and cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, in that time, I’ve sorted my life out, and I’ve got a great job helping other people. I want us to be in each other’s lives again, Den. I mean, come on. We’ve been mates forever.’
He straightened up and stared hard at Billy. ‘I’ll only ask you one more time, why now?’
‘What the hell do you mean, why now? I just explained myself, didn’t I?’
‘No, that was no explanation. It sounds like the last few years of your life have been pretty cushy, but you wanting to be friends again seems to have come right at the same time you could be mixed-up in a bloody murder investigation.’
‘Wait a minute. It’s not like that.’
‘You turned your back on everyone you knew four years ago, without a word, without a reason. I was going through the toughest time of my life, and you up and left. You know, I looked for you, just for a few weeks. I suppose it took my mind off the heartbreak I was suffering. Then, I found out you’d moved back home, with your mum. All fine and dandy. So, I left you there and forgot all about you.’
‘Den, you’re being unfair. You know I had some issues … I have had since school, and things just … got worse.’
‘You were bullied, and I was always there for you back then.’
‘It’s not always something that leaves you when you finally get out of school, mate. The bullying shaped the person I became. How hard do you think it is for a grown man to say he’s being bullied? To say he’s depressed, because the big boys picked on him at school.’
‘Depression. Are you being serious? You never once mentioned that to me. In fact, you never mentioned anything. You just disappeared from my life without telling me what happened. What kind of a mate is that?’
‘This may be hard to believe, but not everything is about you, Detective Hamilton. There’s me thinking you’d have a bit of empathy considering what happened to Maggie.’
Hamilton flew from his seat, chair crashing to the floor. He stooped over the table, shoving his face inches from Billy’s, and gritted his teeth.
‘Don’t you ever mention my little girl again, William.’
‘Denis, I�
�m s–’
‘Shut it! You better bloody watch yourself; if you think for one minute you’ve got a friend on the inside, you’re mistaken. If I find out you’ve got anything to do with these murders, I’ll happily slap the cuffs on you myself.’
Hamilton marched back through the pub, his fists balled so tightly the whites of his knuckles looked ready to burst through his brown skin. He drank in the cold air the moment he stepped outside and jogged through the car park. In the stillness of the car, his mind whizzed and bounced between the words he and Billy had just exchanged and scenes from their youth.
Billy had been bullied throughout secondary school by a gang of boys who, when they could be bothered to attend classes, always honed in on the skinny lad with the stutter and thick-rimmed glasses. He’d kept it a secret for a long time, but he noticed Billy recoil whenever the bullies were in the vicinity. It wasn’t the first time he’d started a fight to protect his friend, and it gave Billy some cooling off time. Hamilton confided in Mrs Thorn, and Billy soon attended speech-therapy classes and the opticians for contact lenses. He became Billy’s security, and with Hamilton there, his friend was never harmed. It never occurred to him to ask what happened when he wasn’t around.
But, looking back, Hamilton realised it was thanks to Billy that he even considered joining the Metropolitan Police. The sheer injustice his friend faced on a daily basis at school, and him becoming the shelter from that prejudice, had unintentionally placed him on his career path. A stab of remorse pierced his chest as thoughts turned to his daughter. Thinking of the numerous times he’d witnessed Billy being taunted, should he not have identified Maggie’s bullying before it was too late? How could he have saved his friend but not his daughter? And the fact Billy had discarded their friendship, was he really the protector he thought he was?
The vibration from his inside pocket removed Hamilton from his internal reflections.
‘DI Hamilton.’
‘Gov, it’s Rocky. I’ve just got back to the office, and I think you’ll want to as well. They’ve pulled another body from the Thames.’
Rocky jumped up from his desk the moment Hamilton burst into the office. He hadn’t had the chance to give his boss any further details over the phone, as the line went dead as soon as he’d uttered the word Thames. Pleased Hamilton arrived back to the incident room before the rest of the team, Rocky hoped he could share more than one intriguing piece of information with his superior.
‘Who is it?’ Hamilton demanded. ‘Which of the friends have been targeted now?’
‘None of them, gov, but the body has been identified as Jason Newcomb.’
‘Shit,’ Hamilton muttered. ‘What else do we know?’
‘Quite a bit,’ he replied and gestured for Hamilton to follow him to the computer monitor. He pulled up the clips he’d watched just ten minutes previously. ‘Thanks to various passers-by filming different aspects of the scene, we know Jason Newcomb stopped his car in the middle of the Albert Bridge, near Battersea Park, climbed the railings, and jumped to his death. It’s all over the news and social media already.’
Hamilton nodded. ‘Any sign of his car near the Embankment last night, or Claire Newcomb’s?’
‘Yes, I eventually found Jason’s car on Craven Street, just up from The Playhouse Theatre. It’s yards from the Embankment, maybe a five-minute walk. But how the hell would he have got Felicity’s body from the car to the Thames, without anyone noticing?’
Hamilton rubbed his forefinger and thumb across the dark stubble, which Rocky thought had long grown past his superior’s usual tidy length. He could see Hamilton mulling over everything he’d just shared and wanted to step-up his game and be noticed.
‘We have to remember, gov, Felicity Ireland was found rather late. That could be a factor in the transportation of her body.’
‘London never sleeps, Rocky. If someone hauled a dead body even five minutes down the road, someone would have noticed.’
‘But would anyone have given a second glance to someone pushing a wheelchair?’ he said, a thrill bubbling in his stomach.
‘What are you getting at?’ Hamilton asked, the lines on his forehead furrowing deeper.
‘An hour before Felicity Ireland’s body was found, there was a hooded figure guiding a wheelchair along the Embankment. I lost sight of it, but picked it up again further down at a step entrance, not too far from the pier. Laura Joseph confirmed with Dixon that Felicity Ireland did have a high concentrate level of botulinum toxin in her system. Passers-by could have mistaken her for a patient, or ill woman, being aided for a stroll along the Thames at night.’
Hamilton clicked his fingers, and the noise sparked a sense of achievement inside Rocky. ‘Jason abandoned the body in plain sight. He would have only needed a small window of time when no one was paying any attention, and he slipped the body from the wheelchair into the water. Felicity would have sunk, initially, giving him enough time to get back to the car and disappear. But then what happens the following night? He feels so guilty he decides to top himself?’
‘Maybe he thought we were on to him and believed it a better fate than life in prison.’
Hamilton hummed, and Rocky was unsure if it was a sound of agreement, or not. ‘I’ll get Fraser to try and access Jason Newcomb’s phone records. Perhaps we can get an idea of who he was speaking to in the hours leading up to him jumping from the Albert Bridge. If he had a contact at all, that is.’
Rocky saw his opportunity and grabbed it, knowing the rest of his team were due back shortly. ‘Speaking of Fraser, gov, I’ve got something I wanted to show you.’
He continued to explain the reason why he hadn’t left the office with the rest of them, and how he’d used the time to delve into a request Hamilton had asked of him a few weeks previously. While making an arrest in Stratford, Fraser had been struck from behind by an unidentified person, momentarily knocking her out.
‘I couldn’t find anything from the local street CCTV, but I approached a small boutique which I noticed had a south facing camera outside their shop.’
‘What did you find, Rocky?’
‘Sadly, nothing too conclusive, but I do think it’s important, gov,’ he said and handed Hamilton a grainy image of Fraser lying on the ground, and a tall man stepping over her.
He tried to read Hamilton’s face, but not having worked with his boss long enough, he couldn’t tell what was meant when the man arched his right eyebrow, or chewed on his bottom lip. He desperately wanted to add the details about Fraser’s drug-addicted friend, but there was no way he’d break her trust.
‘I haven’t shown this to Fraser yet, gov. I didn’t think I should.’
‘Yes, you were right to come to me first. It’s best not to worry her just yet. And thanks for this. I’ll look into it further,’ Hamilton agreed, and pocketed the photograph into the inside of his jacket, just as the others entered the office. ‘Ah, good, you’re all here. We’ve got some catching up to do and not a lot of time. Let’s get to it.’
A wave of exhaustion wrestled with his fleeting moment of achievement, and won. Rocky knew the dark circles under Clarke’s eyes mirrored his own, and the tiredness crept through every muscle. But he took strength in Hamilton’s speech as he brought the rest of his team up-to-date with the investigation. Working through the night had only ever happened once while stationed at Welwyn Police Station, but he was determined not to allow his inexperience to become a factor. Hamilton had given him a chance by pushing for his promotion to Detective Constable, and he wasn’t about to let the team down. Although it was a bonus he’d unearthed a flicker of a clue with the wheelchair, Rocky still believed they were far from the finishing line with this case.
23
Despite the late hour, the incident room continued to thrive. With no off-switch for the city of London, the Metropolitan Police never rested either; always an officer somewhere working on an unsolved case. Hamilton glanced over the still CCTV image Rocky had given him earlier, before placing
it into the top drawer of his office desk. He wondered if there really was any significance it in, but didn’t want to dismiss the new recruit’s eagerness, and promised to give it his dedicated time, when they solved their current perplexing case.
Hamilton read the case files repeatedly, until the black letters on the white pages began to merge together. Adamant he was missing something, he swigged the dregs of his cold cup of tea and rummaged through the statements for the umpteenth time. Although Warren Speed had been in the public eye, Hamilton dismissed the murderer as being a stalker fan due to the connection with Donna Moran and the lure to Ambleside. With a heavy head, as the same names and evidence swirled through his mind, Rocky’s knock on the door was a welcome break.
‘Gov, thought I’d let you know, Fraser managed to get hold of Jason Newcomb’s phone records,’ the young lad said from the doorway. ‘He called two numbers before he jumped from the Albert Bridge, an untraceable number and his sister, Claire.’
He sighed. ‘We need to find that woman. Any updates or sightings?’
Rocky shook his head. ‘Sorry, gov.’
Hamilton’s eyes wandered over the mountains of paper on his desk, before addressing Rocky again. ‘Work with Clarke and Dixon. I want you to revisit Claire Newcomb’s home and see if she’s hiding out there. She may think that, at this late hour, no-one will come knocking. Also, touch base with Mel King; we’ve not interviewed her yet, but she’s Todd Bell’s girlfriend and works at the hospital. These people seem so twisted together. Dixon could be right about the crime of passion.’
He stopped briefly to grab a pen and sheet of paper from his desk and jotted a name down, before handing the paper to Rocky.
‘What’s this, gov?’
‘Nothing at the moment. But pass that on to Fraser and ask her for a background check. Tell her to report back to me immediately.’
‘Sure thing. Where will you be?’
