by Jay Gill
A woman’s voice from behind me said, “Yes, we did.”
Patti Gregory had returned and now walked across the room to kiss her husband. Her elegance, glamour and confidence belied the eyes of a mother who had suffered and cried until there was nothing left to give.
Patti said, “She sent us photos of Jacob and herself. Happy, smiling photos. There was also a note.”
“Do you have the note? Do you recall what it said?”
“No, I burned it,” she said, “along with the photos.”
Charles reached out and held his wife’s hand. “I don’t need the note. I’ll never forget. It read, ‘What a shame. Jacob beat me to it.’”
Patti added, “She’s evil. She couldn’t resist twisting the knife once more. I know exactly what that note implied.”
“Did you go to the police? Start building a case to clear his name?”
“There was no point,” replied Charles bitterly. “He was gone. He was the centre of our world, and he was gone. Nothing could change that. Although we might not be able to prove it, we knew the truth. We’ve always known the truth. And that’s all that matters.”
Said Patti, “Unlike me, my husband still holds out hope we’ll one day see justice. So, tell me, inspector: why are you dragging this up again? Haven’t we suffered enough?”
I owed the Gregorys an explanation. I had listened to their story, and it was time I laid my cards on the table. I just hoped I didn’t damage their already devastated lives any more.
I looked from Charles to Patti as I explained. I spoke slowly and clearly. “I’m investigating a woman named Kelly Lyle. She is the prime suspect in a series of murders that date back a great many years. I’m looking into her background to build a picture of who she is and what motivates her to kill. My hope is that it if we understand her, it will help us catch her.”
“Then you’ve had a wasted trip, inspector. As you’d well know, if you’d done your homework, the woman responsible was named Kelly Allerton.”
I paused before replying gently, “Kelly Lyle’s mother’s maiden name is Allerton. She took the name while at university. The woman I am pursuing is the same woman who drove Jacob to commit suicide. Kelly Lyle, or Kelly Allerton as you knew her, is wanted in at least four countries in connection with a string of murders. We also believe there are countless other cases where she aided and incited others to commit murder. I must stop her.”
Charles Gregory’s eyes brimmed with tears and his body trembled. He pulled his wife to him, and they held each other. I couldn’t return their son to them, but I had managed to throw light on some of the questions that had haunted them for years.
Only Lyle knew the truth about what had really happened between Jacob Gregory and herself. Maybe one day, once she was behind bars, I would be able to ask her.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
A bead of perspiration ran down the guard’s neck. Prison Officer Terry Farley tugged his collar with a finger. He watched as she mingled among visitors, most of them friends and family of the inmates.
Farley looked her over as she casually chatted and joked with one of the regular visitors – a wife he recognised whose husband was back in again for dealing – as though she’d been visiting every month for years.
She looked different from the last time they’d met. Her hair was unwashed and unbrushed, and she wore no make-up. The fancy, expensive-looking designer clothes were gone, replaced by faded jeans, a sports sweatshirt and battered tennis shoes.
She didn’t stand out, grabbed nobody’s interest and didn’t look out of place at all. If Farley didn’t know better, he’d think she was the wife or sister or girlfriend of one of the cons – which was just what she wanted.
As the visitors were shown through to the visiting room, Farley made sure he stood next to her. He whispered, “You promise that after this you’ll leave my family and me alone?”
She didn’t look at him. She looked straight ahead and said, “I’m going to need your help for one more visit. After that, you’ll never hear from me again.”
Farley swallowed hard and pushed out his chin. Rubbing the back of his sweaty neck, he said, “You said nothing about a second visit. We had a deal. I can’t do this again.”
“Circumstances have changed, and I’ll need your help one last time. I’ll be in touch. And one more thing.”
Farley sucked in air and said, “What?”
“Stop sweating, Farley. You look like you’re doing something illegal.” Kelly Lyle winked and left him looking anxiously around the room.
She moved through the room full of visitors and prisoners to sit down opposite inmate Tony Horn.
“Look at me, Tony,” she ordered. “Stop looking around. I need you to settle down. We don’t need any undue attention. You’re as bad as Farley. You look like you’re going to piss your pants.”
Horn whispered loudly, “What if someone recognises you?”
“Even my own mother wouldn’t recognise me.”
“What if someone does?”
“Well, let’s hope they don’t. Stop looking so nervous.”
“How the fuck do you expect me to react? You being here could bring all sorts of shit down on me.”
“Mind your language, Tony,” Lyle snapped. “Take a deep breath. Act like we know each other. Smile.”
“Where’s Tina?”
“Tina isn’t coming today. She’ll be along again next time.”
He looked around the room. He could see inmates looking; he could feel their eyes on him.
“If someone here figures out who you are they’re going to wonder why Kelly Lyle wants to see me. They’re either going to think I’m an associate of yours or that you want information from me. Pretty much everyone in here knows my background, so it’s unlikely they’re going to think I’m an associate. Which makes me a snitch, and that pretty much makes me a dead man.”
“Stop being so melodramatic. Nobody gives a damn about you. You’re a nobody. And in a place like this, if you’re smart, that can work to your advantage. Just keep your mouth shut, your head down, and you’ll be fine.”
Horn looked over Lyle’s shoulder at the officer. Farley was watching them. Horn felt uneasy about a screw being involved. His head kept telling him this was a bad situation. Very bad. Very effing bad, indeed.
“Don’t look at Farley. Look at me,” said Lyle. “He has no interest in our conversation. He’s got huge problems of his own.”
Horn turned to Lyle. Did she really have prison guards in her pocket?
She leaned towards him. “Do you know why I’m here?”
Horn shrugged then decided not to piss Lyle off any more than he already had, so he blurted, “The detective’s wife? Helena Hardy?”
Her cold eyes fixed on his, and she said, “Before you answer the next question, Tony, I need you to remember that it’s me you need to be afraid of. Nobody else. I need you to give me the name of the man who sent you to kill Helena Hardy.”
Horn smiled uneasily and said, “You know who it was. Everyone does.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
“Richter. It was a guy called Edward Richter who paid me. He told me he’d pay well. I wasn’t meant to kill her. He told me to scare her, threaten her, make it clear that if her husband didn’t back off with his investigation into him, she or her kids would get hurt. But I fucked it up. Fucked it up big time. I stabbed the bitch. Can’t tell you why I did it. I’m a piece-of-shit junkie. My whole life is a fuck-up. I talked to her, then she ran, then I chased her, then I stabbed her. If she hadn’t run—” Horn began wringing his hands. “When I told Richter what I’d done, he was furious. He went nuts. Then when he’d calmed down he said he’d help me get out of the country. He said everything would be okay. But he screwed me. He never had a plan to help me. Before I knew it the police were all over me. He had set me up. The only way they’d have found me that quickly was if Richter had tipped them off. He knew I’d never grass on him or cut a deal. I was scared
of him.”
“It’s me you need to be afraid of, not Richter,” hissed Lyle. “He’s a dead man. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“What do you want from me?” Horn’s eyes began to dance around the room again.
“I want you to tell the police exactly what you just told me. Tell them it was Edward Richter. Not too obvious – I just need you to point them in his direction. Do you think you can do that?”
“Police? I don’t want them visiting me. What about the screws? Do you think they won’t let Richter know I spoke to the police? Of course they bloody well will. Someone always talks. Always. This is too much. I can’t. You need to leave me alone. Find someone else.”
Lyle ignored his protests and pushed back. “The police will visit you very soon, I guarantee it. Don’t worry about the guards. I have an agreement with our friend back there.” She nodded towards Farley.
Horn rubbed his unshaven face. “I don’t know. Can you protect me in here? I need protection. You must know some people.”
“Tony, look at me. I don’t want to threaten you to do it, but you know what will happen to you if you don’t do what I ask. Think about this instead: if I can walk in and out of one of Her Majesty’s prisons, how hard do you think it is for me to make sure no one lays a finger on you? Of course you’ll be protected.”
“I guess so.” Horn began tugging at his ear and tapping the table. Tap-tap-tap, like hitting a tiny drum. “I just tell the police what I told you, but subtle-like? I can do that. You promise I’ll be okay?”
Lyle pointed to her disguise. “I did all this for you. I’ve also bribed and threatened the necessary officials to get me in front of you. I’ve gone to great lengths to ensure nobody in this prison recognises me. And no screw, other than Farley, knows I’m here today. Would I do all that if I wanted any harm to befall you?”
“S’pose not.”
“You have my word. You do this for me, and I’ll make sure you get looked after. You also get the satisfaction of knowing the man who put you here is going to pay for it.”
Lyle got to her feet and turned to walk away. “Time for me to go. This place reeks of losers and testosterone.”
Horn looked up at her. “Why do you hate Richter so much? I mean, what did he do to piss you off so much?”
“It’s better you don’t know. If you did know, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Why is that?”
He could feel Lyle’s hot breath on his face as she leaned in close. “Let’s just say the other men who were with Richter when he crossed me were taken apart piece by piece with a filleting knife. Toe by toe, finger by finger, ear by ear, eye by eye, tooth by tooth, hand by hand, foot by foot.” She smiled. “You get the picture. I kept them alive for days just to hear their screams. When they begged me to kill them and end their suffering, I kept them alive longer.”
Horn didn’t blink. He’d heard stories about Lyle, and as her face hovered inches from his, with absolute hate in her eyes, he suddenly believed every word he’d ever heard.
He agreed he was happier not knowing what Richter had done.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I arrived home from Spain exhausted, emotional and desperately in need of some family time. It was my family that grounded me and reminded me what real life was about. I was glad to be back. I needed time to listen, share, relax, laugh and love. I was keen to spend quality time with those who were truly important in my life.
Moving from London to live on the south coast in Dorset and walking away from my career at Scotland Yard were two of the biggest decisions of my life. One of the toughest things about the move was knowing I’d be leaving my parents behind. So, it was the icing on the cake when they said that, if I agreed, they’d like to join us in Dorset.
I can recall how Mum had taken my hand and said, “We’d like to join you down south. Neither your father nor I want to miss a second of our granddaughters growing up. You know they mean the world to us.”
I didn’t hesitate for a second. “Of course I want you with us. I just didn’t know if I should ask.”
With her tongue firmly planted in her cheek, she’d added, “Also, Monica and I have spoken, and we are in agreement that it will take both of us to keep you on the straight and narrow.”
“Is that right?” I’d said, delight still on my face. “Scheming behind my back? I’ll have to watch myself.”
Mum and Dad had settled into a lovely home just down the road from us. And every day without fail, they visited us. Sometimes it was just a quick hello; sometimes they popped in to help out or share a meal. Occasionally, they came by just to check up on me and make sure I wasn’t considering going back to taking the kind of risks I’d taken back at Scotland Yard.
Everyone was at the house when I arrived back from Spain. I’d received my welcome-home hugs and kisses, unpacked my travel bag and showered off the dirt of travelling. Now, happy and clean and smelling of soap, I was putting the kettle on to make tea when Mum took me to one side.
Never one to dance around a question, she asked, “How are things between you and Monica? You two look so perfect together. Are things working out?”
“Incredible – she’s the most amazing woman. I’m completely in love. And the girls are over the moon that Monica and I have finally made things permanent between us.”
“I don’t need to tell you how close you were to losing her. I’m so glad you came to your senses.”
“There isn’t a day goes by I don’t think of Helena,” I said. “I miss her – of course, I do. I remember all the good times we had together. My memories are happy ones. They’re not tainted by regret, anger and grief like they had been.”
“And tell me truthfully, Jamie, how are the girls adjusting to life on the coast? They seem happy – are they?”
“They love it here. The new house, living by the beach, new friends, new school. They adjusted easily, the way children do. The move was what we all needed. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long to see it.”
Mum said, “Well, you mustn’t beat yourself up about it. Sometimes things happen when they’re meant to. You’re here now, and I haven’t seen you look so happy in a very long time.”
“And here is my beautiful Monica,” she said as my love came into the kitchen, “radiant as ever. Is this son of mine looking after you? He’d better be; otherwise, he’ll have me to answer to.”
“I think so,” said Monica with a cheeky grin. “There’s always room for improvement, but with a little time I’ll whip him into shape.”
“I hope you’re listening, son. I just hope you’ll soon be putting a ring on this poor girl’s finger.”
“Mum, for God’s sake, do you ever stop?” I said awkwardly.
“I brought you up to always do the right thing and to speak your mind. If I’m not speaking the truth, you just let me know.” When she didn’t think I was looking, she winked at Monica. They both had a little laugh at my expense.
Alice appeared at the back door, her face pale and her eyes wide with fear. I could see something wasn’t right.
We all stopped our laughing.
“What is it, Alice? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s Grandad. He’s fallen over. He’s holding his chest.”
“Oh, my dear God, no,” said Mum.
Monica took her hand and put an arm around her to keep her steady.
“Show me,” I said. “Where is he?” I grabbed my phone and followed Alice.
We ran to the back garden and found Faith with her small hands holding her grandad’s head as he lay on the grass
Faith said, “We were playing hide and seek. We were having fun.” She looked up at me, her eyes full of fear and questions, her lips trembling. “Is Grandad going to be okay?”
Mum stepped forward. Crouching beside her husband, she placed a hand on his cheek. “Henry, can you hear me, darling?” She looked up at Monica. “Aspirin – do you have any aspirin? Quickly, Monica, quick as yo
u can.”
Monica ran to the house in search of aspirin.
I phoned for an ambulance. As I spoke, the words felt like they weren’t coming from me, that none of this was real, that this was a nightmare I was desperate to wake from.
“It’s my father,” I told the dispatcher. “I need an ambulance right now, please. I think he’s had a heart attack.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I found the ward, and the nurse pointed me in the direction of Dad’s bed. Behind a privacy curtain, Mum was clutching his hand as he slept. He looked like he’d aged twenty years. He looked pale, frail and vulnerable, not at all like the strong, tireless man I knew.
Who was this man in front of me?
It was hard to comprehend what I was seeing. My dad, the man I always thought of as invincible, was lying in a hospital bed connected to a heart-rate monitor. The tough, uncompromising, retired and highly decorated chief superintendent, known at New Scotland Yard for his straight talk and zero tolerance on crime, had just gone toe to toe with death and, for the time being, come out on top. We needed to make sure it stayed that way.
I spoke to Mum in a hushed voice. “What did the doctors say?”
“It was a heart attack. They’re doing tests. He’ll need an operation to put one of those stent things in. Right now, they’re stabilising him, and he’s on thinning medication for his blood.”
“Where’s the doctor now? I want to speak to him.”
“The doctor said she’ll be back as soon as she has more news. Don’t make a fuss, Jamie. Your dad’s stable and they’ll let us know as soon as their tests are completed. Come and sit here beside me.”
“Do you want me to phone Brad?” I hadn’t spoken to my brother in a few months. He’s a Royal Marine who, when I spoke to him last, was heading out on operations off the coast of Africa. I wasn’t sure how I intended to get hold of him, but I felt like I needed to do something.
“No, not yet. No point worrying Bradley until we know more.”
