The DCI Yorke Series Boxset

by Wes Markin

  ‘We need to have a talk about Lacey Ray, right now,’ Jake said.

  ‘You want to talk about being stalked by your ex seconds after I’ve just seen my life flash before my eyes?’

  ‘Yes, there’s more to this than just stalking me; I think she could be involved with everything going on.’

  ‘And how have you reached that conclusion?’ Yorke stared at Jake, suddenly interested.

  ‘The reason that she’s my ex. She’s just like some of her infamous ancestors. Cold, calculating ...’

  ‘And mad?’

  Jake rose to his feet and dusted off the snow. ‘Yeah, although I’m afraid this one could be the maddest yet.’

  Yorke stared out at Salisbury. It was early afternoon, the sun, having acknowledged it was somewhat out of practice and lacking its usual bite, was retiring, and Salisbury was returning to its white, ghostly self. ‘I’ll interview her.’

  9

  AFTER VISITING THE crime scene, submitting a preliminary report on the chase, and grabbing a large Cornish pasty from the bakers, Yorke drove to the local station to interview Lacey Ray.

  He took a call from DI Gardner as he parked up. ‘Hello Emma.’

  ‘Hi sir, just ringing to let you know we are checking DNA on the driver of the van now.’

  He recalled Brookes’ gruesome discovery. ‘How’s Iain?’

  ‘Still throwing up. He actually grabbed hold of the carcasses’ bloodied trotter, it left him a little worse for wear.’

  ‘Strange really, you’d have thought the relief that Paul Ray wasn’t inside the potato sack would have neutralised disgust. Do SOCO have anything from the crime scene yet?’

  ‘A bloodied fingerprint on the outside of the patio door.’

  ‘Good, keep me updated. Have you spoken to Bryan?’

  ‘Yes, he took Sarah to her mother’s during the drop which is why Joe was alone.’

  ‘What a cock-up. Is he with Sarah now?’

  ‘Yes, at the safe house.’

  ‘Well, he better not move an inch from her side. Did the skaters have any connection?’

  ‘No, it was purely opportunistic. They saw our driver acting suspicious, taking the bag out of the bin and examining it. They wanted to know what was in it.’

  ‘Is all the money accounted for?’

  ‘Yes, how do you think the kidnapper is going to react to the failed drop?’

  ‘I don’t know, but I don’t think it was ever about the money. He wanted Joe Ray. There’s some kind of vendetta going on here.’

  ‘Do you think Sarah is in danger too?’

  ‘Not sure. She’s not a Ray by blood so, hopefully, no. I’m at the station, heading in to interview Lacey.’

  ‘Okay, good luck,’ Gardner said.

  On the way into the station by foot, Yorke wolfed down his Cornish pasty.

  Sheila, wearing the skimpy laser-blue nightslip Jake had bought her last Christmas, gave him the worst look she’d ever given him in their three years of marriage.

  ‘But there’s nothing going on!’ Jake said.

  ‘Bullshit.’ She yanked out a menthol cigarette. Realising she’d broken it; she threw it down on the table and reached for a second.

  ‘Before yesterday, I hadn’t seen the crazy woman in years.’

  She lit the cigarette. ‘Bullshit.’ She sucked hard and the end of her cigarette flared.

  ‘It’s ten years since we dated! I gave her a lift to the station from her parents yesterday and she picked up my fitness card from one of the car pockets – that’s how she got my number.’

  ‘Bullshit.’ She grunted out a plume of smoke.

  Jake scratched at the underneath of the wooden table as if he was trying to claw his way out of a box. It was Sheila’s turn to cook, but no food had emerged this evening. He stared over at the fridge.

  Sheila launched her burning cigarette at him. He swooped to the left and it sailed over his shoulder. Glancing back, he saw smoke rising from the carpet outside the kitchen door. Seconds later, he was on it, pounding out the threat with his bare foot. ‘You’re crazier than she is!’

  He turned around to see Sheila taking off her wedding ring. ‘Here take this as well.’ Too many hours with a personal trainer had given her good upper body strength; the ring came like a bullet and clipped his top lip.

  He rubbed, but it did nothing to stop the stinging. He almost said, “I nearly died today,” but held back – it would have inflamed the situation further. Instead, he said, ‘I had an awful day and then this is what I have to put up with?’

  ‘Try telling someone who gives a shit,’ she said, flying out of the kitchen and bounding up the stairs. He was sure he felt the foundations of the house tremble.

  He shook his head. ‘Back to the sofa bed for you Jakey.’

  A shame really – she’d looked good in that blue slip.

  He jerked open the fridge door, pulled out some wafer thin ham and shoved a handful into his mouth like a Neanderthal. Then, he eyed up the rest of the packet of processed meat. Where was the harm? It was only wafer-thin. He finished it off.

  His phone rang. ‘Sir.’

  ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Just arriving at the station, you?’

  ‘Great. After you almost killed me today, I came home to find my wife on the verge of divorcing me. She’s just tried to burn the house down and guess what?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m still on that sofa bed.’

  Yorke sighed on behalf of Jake. ‘It’ll blow over – I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘Anyway, Louise Tenor just phoned me. Nothing on the mud samples so far.’

  Louise Tenor was a Crime Scene Investigator at head office that many senior officers went to for assistance; diligent, conscientious and above all, monosyllabically honest. If she thought the angle wasn’t worth pursuing, she’d let you know.

  ‘Louise was also concerned that some of the samples were either too small, or had been contaminated by other elements; one had been corrupted by oil.’

  ‘I’ll speak to my officers, ensure they’re more thorough.’

  ‘I want you to go one better than that.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Louise has managed to narrow it down to a smaller area. She’s going to e-mail you over a list of farms and I want you to check them out tomorrow.’

  ‘Great, you’re putting me to good use then! I thought that when I got promoted to sergeant, these menial tasks were for others.’

  ‘I am putting you to the best possible use. If you stumble on the right farmyard, I need someone with keen senses. You’ve got the keenest senses I know.’

  ‘Well, thanks, it’s been a while since someone said something that nice to me!’

  ‘Right, I’ve got to interview Lacey now.’

  ‘Well, don’t exchange any pleasantries with her whatsoever; she’s likely to ruin your life!’

  Yorke laughed. ‘See you tomorrow, Jake.’

  He hung up, opened up a second packet of ham and consumed it in two mouthfuls. After picking up his wife’s wedding ring, he headed upstairs to the sofa bed, rubbing his sore lip.

  After forcing on a woollen jumper, which had endured too many tumble dries and was almost child-size, Yorke led Lacey into an interview room nicknamed the ‘icebox’.

  As she took a seat, he looked through the cracked single-paned window, which split the outside world in two, and he saw the flash of new snow in the streetlights. A cold draft clawed at his face, so he hoisted down the blind to stop it dead. Out of curiosity, he ran a hand over the radiator, but quickly hauled it back ─ it felt like it was full of coolant rather than hot water.

  ‘It’s like a morgue in here, detective.’

  ‘Sorry Ms Ray, the heating’s bust in here and it’s the only room available right now,’ Yorke said, turning around.

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ Lacey said, buttoning up her quilted jacket.

  I never asked you if you were okay, thought Yorke, a
nd after what you’ve been putting Jake through – I have to say I really don’t care.

  ‘I just have to let you know that we’re filming this interview,’ Yorke said, pointing at a camera mounted in the corner of the room behind her.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You were first at the crime scene – that makes your statement very important.’

  ‘As I told the officer who brought me here, I don’t really know anything. I just went to see Joe and Sarah and ...’ She paused and looked down at the table; a tear sparkled in the corner of her left eye.

  Convincing, Yorke thought, laying a cardboard folder on the table in front of him.

  ‘It must have been a shock.’ A plume of white air billowed from his mouth.

  ‘It’s hard to get the sight of all that blood out of my head.’ She continued staring at the table, while dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a tissue, smearing her mascara.

  ‘In your own time, could you talk me through exactly what happened?’

  ‘Do I need a solicitor?’

  ‘Not unless you’ve done something wrong – we just need your help really. Afterwards, I’m going to have to get a signed statement.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘It was about quarter past two when I arrived. I was there to see if Joe and Sarah needed any support while Paul was being returned ... ’ She dabbed her eyes again.

  Yorke opened a pad, made some notes and waited for her to continue.

  ‘I immediately noticed there’d been a struggle – there was a picture shattered on the floor, and a glass smashed in the sitting room. I called out for them before I went into the kitchen, but no-one answered. Then, I saw it ...’ She looked over Yorke’s shoulder at the broken window. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘I know it’s hard, but could you describe it?’

  ‘Blood everywhere ... all over the floor. It stank too, almost like rotting meat. There was writing on the wall. “In the Blood” it said.’

  ‘What do you think that means?’

  ‘I have no idea. Something left in the blood on the floor perhaps? I wasn’t about to check though ... it was disgusting.’

  ‘Okay, what did you do next?’

  ‘Phoned the police.’

  Actually, you phoned Sheila, but we’ll come back to that, Yorke thought.

  ‘Where were you before you arrived at the house?’

  ‘My flat at Spire View. With everything going on, I struggled to sleep last night, so I slept in rather late. I watched TV until close to two before walking around to my brother’s house.’

  ‘Could you describe your relationship with your brother?’

  ‘We’re not close. We speak every now again, but I haven’t seen him in years, before today that is.’

  ‘Why did you come back then?’

  ‘There’s a big difference between ‘not close’ and cold. They’re going through a horrendous ordeal.’

  ‘Of course. Can you think of anyone who would kidnap Joe or your nephew?’

  ‘I live in Southampton, I rarely see or speak to them. I have no idea who would be this angry with them.’

  ‘How would you describe Joe and Sarah’s relationship?’

  ‘Strained. He’s always had problems resisting the opposite sex. She also has huge problems with OCD. I think they stayed together more for Paul, rather than for each other.’

  Tyler tapped on the window.

  ‘Excuse me, Ms Ray,’ Yorke said.

  ‘Of course.’

  Outside the room, Tyler handed him another cardboard folder. ‘Fifteen years ago, one of Lacey’s teachers contacted social services regarding her peculiar behaviour; against her parents’ wishes, Lacey was forced to see a child psychologist. The report and recommendations for treatment are in there. I’ve also included information from Southampton HQ regarding her ‘job.’’ He mimed quotation marks with his fingers.

  ‘Okay, could you go in there and have Lacey prepare and sign her statement regarding the discovery of the crime scene while I have a quick look over this.’

  ‘Of course, boss.’

  After going over the contents of the cardboard folder, Yorke returned to the icebox. Lacey was just signing the statement.

  ‘Thanks Ms Ray,’ Tyler said, leaving the room. He nodded farewell to Yorke.

  Yorke turned to Lacey, who was again dabbing her eyes with a tissue. He put the new folder down on top of the old one.

  ‘Is there really any need for me to stay longer? I think I should go and see if my sister-in-law is okay.’

  ‘There are a few more things I would like to discuss with you. Is that alright?’

  ‘Of course, but I’m feeling very tired, and emotional, and I’m sure I have been as much help as I can be―’

  ‘I cannot stress enough the importance of your statement, Ms Ray. Your nephew and brother could be in serious danger.’

  ‘I know, but I’ve told you everything.’

  ‘Do you know of anyone connected to your brother, or your family that would be capable of doing this?’

  ‘You’ve asked me that already and I told you no. I share none of Joe’s relationships, so I can’t help. Our family has never been popular, as you probably know, but I do not spend enough time in Salisbury these days to identify anyone that harbours a grudge.’

  ‘Is there anyone you have encountered in your line of work whom you’ve divulged your brother’s financial situation to?’

  Lacey sat up straight in her chair. ‘Define ‘line of work’ detective?’

  ‘I am led to believe you work as a model for a company called “Nightlight.”’

  ‘That’s correct, but why would you assume that people I work with are unsavoury and may be drawn to my brother’s wealth?’

  ‘Southampton officers have evidence that this company moonlights as an escort company.’

  ‘What evidence?’

  ‘Are you a prostitute, Ms Ray?’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Do I need that solicitor now?’

  ‘Entirely up to you. I have time to wait, but every minute you leave it will count against your missing family.’

  She looked down at the table, deep in thought. Come on, thought Yorke, you’re going to have to at least pretend you care. Yorke chewed his bottom lip as the wait became unbearable.

  She lifted her head. ‘Just because I make a good living modelling, people always assume you’re selling your body.’

  ‘So, that’s a ‘no’ then?’

  ‘Yes, it’s a ‘no’.’

  He made some notes and without looking at her said, ‘When you were younger, your parents took you to a child psychologist.’

  She started to tut.

  ‘You remember then?’

  She leaned forward. ‘Sounds like you suspect me for my missing family?’

  Yorke looked up. ‘Please answer the question, Ms Ray, it is my duty to cover everything. And, if you think about it, you will realise it is your duty too.’

  She reached up and adjusted her fringe; it looked as if it’d been cut with the aid of a ruler. ‘Yes, I saw a child psychologist.’

  ‘Can you remember why?’

  ‘Because I was an angst ridden teenager?’

  ‘Your parents were concerned about you bullying others, and your incessant need to dominate every situation.’

  ‘Yes, as I said, angst ridden teenager.’

  ‘The psychologist identified narcissistic tendencies; an incredible thirst for attention and a feeling of supremacy.’

  ‘Did they? News to me! I never read that report.’

  ‘Can I point out something else in the report, Ms Ray?’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘The psychologist claimed these tendencies were ‘malignant’ and included a disregard for human life which needed to be addressed urgently by a psychiatrist. Unfortunately, according to your file, they never were. How do you feel about that?’

  Lacey smiled. ‘Hopefully, I’ve grown out of it.’

  I hope so too, thought Yorke, beca
use sadism and joyful cruelty are common behaviours with malignant narcissism.

  Yorke tapped the folder. ‘It says in here, your father killed your auntie when they were children.’

  Lacey shrugged. ‘By accident.’

  ‘Still, it must be upsetting.’

  ‘It was before I was born, and I never found out until after he died!’

  ‘Did you like your father?’

  ‘No, and neither did Joe. He was an animal.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘He used to hit us, and mother. Hard.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, Ms Ray.’

  ‘No you’re not. There must be thousands of people around here with a similar story.’

  ‘It must have been hard for you being in a house with a man like that. You must have had a torrid time.’

  ‘Yes, we did, where is this going exactly?’

  ‘How did your parents die?’

  ‘Car accident. Is that not in there?’ She nodded down at the file.

  ‘I’ve not had chance to read it thoroughly yet.’

  ‘I can assure you, detective, that I have nothing to do with Paul or Joe’s disappearance. Your attempts to profile me are distracting you from better lines of inquiry.’

  ‘One thing really bothers me, Ms Ray. Why did you phone DS Jake Pettman from the house?’

  ‘We go way back. I knew he was a policeman and so when I panicked, I phoned him.’

  ‘Except you didn’t, you phoned his wife first.’

  Lacey leaned back in her chair. ‘It was his phone I called. When his wife answered, I apologised and then phoned the station to be put through to him.’

  ‘Sheila Pettman reported that you were quite rude to her on the phone.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. She said that you accused her of being feisty and then you started to insinuate that Jake still had feelings for you.’

  ‘Well - she was rude to me first, and I was very emotional, considering what was currently happening.’

  ‘What did she say to wind you up so much?’

  ‘She was very abrupt with me over the fact that I had Jake’s number.’