Deadly Friendship (DI Hamilton Book 3)

by Tara Lyons

  ‘Inspector Bennett confirmed the victim’s identity from her dental records, and it is Becky Taylor, Holly Walker’s adoptive sister,’ she explained. ‘At this time, the pathologist can’t shed much light on the cause of death, as she’s still examining the remains, but she’s confident the time frame fits with what Holly’s already confessed.’

  ‘Any update on Todd Bell’s condition?’

  Clarke raised his hand. ‘He’s in intensive care at the moment, going through a course of antitoxin to fight the botulism. The doctor I spoke to briefly believed the treatment had been administered quickly enough to be effective.’

  ‘That’s good to know. Well done for getting to the house in time.’

  ‘If only the missing persons case had been investigated in more depth all those years ago, perhaps we wouldn’t have had this mess to deal with. More innocent people wouldn’t have lost their lives.’

  ‘Clarke, over two hundred thousand Britons disappear every year. So, despite the thirteen million CCTV cameras, the databases and Facebook, local neighbourhood watches and GPS, the MisPer department have a hell of a lot to contend with. For them, Donna Moran was a twenty-one-year-old woman, who left a note saying goodbye.’

  ‘A fake note, forged by Warren Speed, and probably not through guilt but self-preservation and fear.’

  ‘Yes, we know that now, but that couldn’t have been clear to the officers at the time. There was no threat to life, no suspicious circumstances … she was simply a young woman who wanted to leave London and start a new life. MisPer can’t check the oyster card, or contactless bank statements of every reported missing person to identify their last known location. It would be a minefield.’

  ‘In that case, I suppose it’s a small blessing Holly Walker wanted us to know the murders linked to Donna Moran.’ Clarke sighed heavily. ‘What about your mate, William?’

  ‘There’s no evidence Billy was involved in Dorinda’s crime; it appears she worked alone. However, who knows what the prosecution might try down the line. What with him having an affair with the girl … they could try and place some blame in his court, pitch the couple as co-conspirators, even.’

  ‘As for Holly, she’s been charged with three counts of murder. The story about Becky Taylor’s death is still unclear, but it appears Holly snapped when betrayal and abandonment threatened her again. She’s confessed, so it will all come out.’

  ‘Holly’s suffered a lifetime of those feelings,’ Fraser added. ‘Before her mother took an overdose, the young girl watched a downward spiral of drugs and prostitution in her own home. Who knows what she may have been forced into. As a grown woman, the rejection and neglect changed her, forced her to believe murder is acceptable.’

  Dixon placed both hands on her hips. ‘But I don’t think Dorinda was an evil woman. She’d suffered a traumatic ordeal. I suffered post-natal depression too, after my second child was born, and it’s horrific. My father always taught me that pride comes before a fall, so I reached out to my family and asked for help before it consumed me. I’m not excusing the woman’s actions, of course, but I can understand her pain.’

  ‘Clearly it was Dorinda’s rage which caused the accident,’ Rocky said. ‘But the secrets and lies following on from that is what created the monster. I mean, hiding the poor girl’s body for two years, knowing what her family and friends were going through. If only Dorinda had trusted the police all those years ago, and explained exactly what happened.’

  ‘She would have been charged with manslaughter,’ Dixon replied. ‘At the end of the day, she killed an innocent young woman, and she deserves, more than ever now, to be held accountable for her actions.’

  Hamilton stepped forward. ‘Well, justice has certainly been served, and Donna Moran can be laid to rest at long last.’

  ‘What will happen to Claire Newcomb?’ Rocky asked.

  ‘She’ll be punished for the part she played in all this, albeit a lesser reprimand for supplying us with the information which resulted in apprehending the real murderer. If we’d known about Holly Walker sooner, more lives could have potentially been saved.’

  Dixon sighed. ‘Isn’t it awful how this all started with Dorinda Ireland, a woman clearly suffering after the birth of her daughter. Perhaps, if she’d received some professional help, none of this would have happened.’

  ‘But it was Holly who murdered three people, and ultimately led Jason to his death,’ Rocky said.

  ‘Apart from Becky Taylor, Holly made those choices because of what she thought her friends had done to the woman she loved. When, in actual fact, they were as clueless as she was. Dorinda’s sister died because she covered up murdering Donna Moran. I guess we never really know who we can trust.’

  ‘Is that what you believe?’ Rocky asked. ‘I have friends and family who I hold dear to me, who have been with me through everything, and dragged me up when I needed help. I’d bet my life on them. Are you seriously saying you don’t have friends who mean the world to you? Friends you’d do anything for.’

  Dixon raised an eyebrow. ‘No one comes above my children. And while, yes, I understand we all need relationships and friendships in this world, I’ve learnt even those closest to you can betray you, eventually.’ She stopped and laughed. ‘I’m not a total bitch, by the way. I have a close circle of friends who I’d do anything for … except kill, unlike Holly Walker. But I’m just saying it’s important not to lose ourselves for the sake of others. Some friendships are toxic.’

  Hamilton nodded, acknowledging Dixon’s sentiments, but his shoulders slumped with the heaviness of remorse and regret. ‘Let’s call it a night, guys. We can finalise the reports and admin side of things after the weekend. We’ve deserved the break. And I think we all deserve a pint too. I’m buying the first round.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me twice,’ Dixon said and swung her handbag over her shoulder.

  Clarke, in hot pursuit of her to the door, called out, ‘That’s what I like to hear.’

  Fraser stood, but declined the offer. ‘I’m shattered, boss, but thanks. I need a hot bath and early to bed. See you all on Monday.’

  After she’d left the room, Rocky tapped Hamilton’s shoulder and motioned to the back of the room with his head. He called out to the other two waiting in the doorway, asking them to carry on to The Duke and Duchess across the road, and that he’d catch up with them. Alone, Rocky retold the incident which happened in Fraser’s house, and the dead flowers sent by her estranged friend, Johnny.

  ‘I know I should have explained it more to you when I gave you the CCTV image.’

  ‘Damn, I haven’t had a chance to chase that up yet.’

  ‘It’s just, with all this talk of friendships and asking for help, I thought it was the right thing to do … telling you,’ Rocky said and stared at the floor. ‘I hope Fraser doesn’t end up hating me.’

  Hamilton lightly punched the lad on his arm. ‘No, of course she won’t. I’ll be subtle with her too, because I have noticed a distance from her these past few days. I’ll use that to gauge things with her and look at that image in more detail first thing on Monday morning. You’ve done the right thing, okay?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. Thanks, boss. I feel like a weight has been lifted.’

  Rocky walked towards the door, and Hamilton hesitated for a moment, before calling him back. ‘Here, take this twenty quid and get the team a drink for me. Tell them I’ll be half an hour, or so. There’s just something personal I need to deal with first.’

  Epilogue

  Hamilton walked along the path, one he hadn’t stepped foot on in years, and tapped the gold knocker on the shiny blue door. The row of detached houses, all identical except for a few individual quirks, such as hanging flower pots or brightly painted doors, mirrored the homes three streets down, where he’d grown up. But this place had been his second home throughout his teenage years, and for quite a while after that.

  The door creaked open, and a familiar face greeted him. ‘Well, this is a
surprise,’ her friendly voice sung to him. ‘Well, don’t stand on bloody ceremony. Come in, come in.’

  He closed the door behind him, but she hadn’t moved far down the hallway, and their arms rubbed against each other. The place hadn’t changed; the same flowery carpet un-matching the paisley wallpaper. It looked just as hideous when he was growing up, but you got away with more decorating faux pas in the eighties.

  ‘Mrs Thorn, it’s lovely to see you,’ he said, attempting to sound bright and breezy, but knowing the words fell as heavy as cement.

  She pinched his cheek, and he was transported back to his late teens. Back to when he and Billy would return from a football match later than promised. Mrs Thorn would light-heartedly reprimand the pair and then offer them a toastie. Discipline never had been her strong suit.

  ‘Would you just look at yourself, Denis Hamilton. You’ve changed … but you’re still the same,’ she giggled. ‘How stupid does that sound, but do you know what I mean? It must be this new hair you’re growing on your chin. What do you kids call them, a goatee? I think it ages you.’ She continued to laugh as she crossed her arms over her large chest.

  ‘I was wondering if Billy was staying here with you, Mrs T? You know, now that his home has become …’

  ‘A crime scene? Yes, I know all about it. I still can’t quite believe what Dorinda’s done. What she put that poor girl’s family through … and now her own family? I’ve told Billy he and Amelia can stay with me forever. It’s so lovely to have some life and laughter back in this quiet house. Mind you, I must admit none of that is coming from Billy at the moment. But I was overjoyed when he told me things with you were on the mend. So sad when you had that fall out. Dear friends are important.’

  Hamilton frowned. The memory she’d mentioned unbeknown to him, but he couldn’t help smiling. Mrs Thorn jabbered on, as he remembered her always doing, and he took a minute to study her face. She’d grown so old, it scared him somewhat. The deep lines around her mouth and eyes had intensified in her grey, sagging skin. The headful of white hair, a stark contrast to the glistening ash brown he recollected. Mrs Thorn was similar in age to his own mother, yet this woman looked at least ten years older. He contemplated if it were due to the fact Mrs Thorn had stayed in London, with all its pressures and anxieties, while Philippa Hamilton relaxed and enjoyed Ambleside, the exhilarating views of Lake Windermere, and the constant flow of fresh air. Obviously, these things were not only good for the soul.

  ‘Well, I’ll stop going on,’ she said, breaking into his thoughts. ‘I promised my gorgeous granddaughter I’d catch up on Peppa Pig. Billy’s in the kitchen, you know the way. Don’t be a stranger now, Denis.’

  And with that, she sloped off and into the room on the left, closing the door behind her. Hamilton smiled again. The fragrant smell of potpourri filled his nostrils as he walked down the hallway and entered the large kitchen at the rear of the house. Billy sat at the table, which was covered in mountains of paperwork, and held his head in his hands. The shadow of his beard grew down his cheeks and neck, the flickers of grey hair more evident than before.

  ‘Can I sit?’ Hamilton asked.

  Billy raised his head, but refused to make eye-contact. ‘Come to accuse me of murdering anyone else?’

  Despite the cold reception, Hamilton took a seat on the other side of the table. ‘Come on, you must understand how your actions appeared to me.’

  Billy sighed. ‘Yeah, and I suppose you weren’t totally off the mark. When I heard that Donna’s case had been reopened, I worried, always wondering if I actually was the last person to see her. But I didn’t do it to use you; I wanted your help and support. Something you’ve always given me, and I’m sorry I didn’t repay the favour.’

  ‘What happened? I can’t believe you just wandered off to find yourself after Maggie’s death … there has to be more to it.’

  Billy roughly rubbed his hand back and forth over his cropped hair. ‘It all started again, the bullying … and I feel ridiculous even saying that aloud.’

  ‘You shouldn’t. It happens, and I need to appreciate that, maybe more than anyone. And not just because my daughter suffered but because of my profession. Billy, every day I investigate people who find new and depraved ways to hurt others, even those they say they love. You shouldn’t feel ashamed or silly.’

  A slight smile appeared on his old friend’s face. ‘Despite being a grown man, in a well-paid and respected job, it was as if I was returning to the school playground again every day. It started off small, whispers and funny looks, but escalated to hateful emails and being excluded from social events. Then … Maggie died … and I watched you and hated myself more.’

  Hamilton frowned and shook his head. ‘What, why?’

  ‘Your whole world had fallen apart, but even in grief, you’re a tower of strength. For your wife, your mum; and you returned to work even more fucking hell-bent on catching the scum in this city. What was I doing? Crying in my coffee because the kids at work wouldn’t play with me,’ Billy said, adopting a childlike voice.

  ‘I wish you’d told me.’

  ‘Ha, and make myself look, and feel, like more of a tosser than I already did? It was a downward spiral for me, and I just had to get away.’

  ‘Does this have anything to do with why you’re in therapy? My mum told me.’

  ‘Christ, news really does spread between the old dears. Yes, in a way. About six months ago, Dorinda and I started discussing nurseries and schools for Amelia, and I felt sick. How could I guide my child when I couldn’t even stand up for myself? I thought if I had some counselling to fight my own demons, it might help her. But now, without her mother around to help, I’m agonising about the panic returning –’

  ‘Dada! Dada,’ a small voice called.

  Hamilton turned in the chair to watch a small girl bounce through the room and dive onto her father’s lap. Long, brown curls cascaded down her back, and rosy cheeks shone from her pale skin; the image of Maggie’s childhood favourite china doll, which had pride of place in the collection she’d kept on her shelves.

  ‘Amelia, I want you to meet my very old friend, Den,’ Billy said.

  ‘Hi Den. I’m two.’

  He held out his hand, and her little fingers clung to his. ‘Hi, Amelia … I’m much older than two, but it’s a pleasure to meet you.’

  ‘Pop back into grandma, sweetie. I’ll be along any minute now.’

  ‘Okay, Peppa and George are going to the beach. And I want to go to the beach,’ Amelia mumbled and left the room.

  ‘She looks like Dorinda, doesn’t she?’ Billy stated, more than asked.

  ‘Yeah, she bloody does, mate … but she has your eyes.’

  His old friend beamed, and something from deep inside stirred in Hamilton. For some reason or another, he’d never had the conversation with his wife, but perhaps there was a chance they could welcome another child into the world. The thought brought with it as much sadness as it did happiness, but it wasn’t something he wanted to give up on.

  ‘Look, Billy, I have to head off, but I wanted to say sorry, face to face. I’ve known you longer than I’ve known my wife, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.’

  ‘Don’t sweat it. I guess we’re not the same people we used to be.’

  Hamilton shrugged. ‘I think we are. I’ve listened to a lot of chat about friendships these past couple of weeks, and I’ve come to realise how bloody important they are. It’s who we choose to have a say in our lives, the people we want to have our backs when we need them the most and who best to have a pint with. Whether we like it or not, they’re a mirror of who we are … especially when you’ve known each other since before puberty.’

  ‘In that case, we’ll have to grab a pint together soon,’ Billy said and nodded his head, appearing far more masculine than Hamilton felt at that moment.

  ‘I think that could be arranged.’ He stood and walked towards the door, stopping briefly to look back at his friend. ‘Listen, don’t p
anic about raising Amelia. The fact you so strongly know how it feels to be intimidated and harassed, means you’re well equipped to teach her right from wrong. Besides, you’re not alone. You have your mum … and me.’

  Hamilton left the house of his childhood with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. It’d become clear to him that everyone had their own image of how a friendship should look. From the psychopaths to the ice maidens, and from the jokers to the sensitive souls, everyone craved human interaction in one form or another. He decided it was time to put to bed the demons of his past, the blame and the stubbornness, and embrace the people in his life. After all, Hamilton knew only too well how quickly things could change.

  THE END

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  Readers who enjoyed Deadly Friendship will also enjoy the first two books in the DI Hamilton series, also by Tara Lyons.

  In The Shadows

  No Safe Home.

  Acknowledgments

  Despite the thought that writing is a lonely job, it’s definitely something I’ve not done alone.