Dead Inside

by Noelle Holten

  After his confession, forensics used luminol in Raven’s flat and had found a huge amount of blood, covering the floor, walls, and bathtub. However, the bleach and other industrial cleaners he’d used had deteriorated the samples so that they couldn’t state, with one hundred per cent accuracy, who it had belonged to , whether it was more than one person or if it was even human. The police had had to go by what Raven had told them during interviews and match his statement to those women reported missing at the time. Fortunately for the police The Chopper was so concerned with infamy that he gave them full disclosure of his gruesome crimes.

  Raven’s roommate, Adrian Harrison, was also questioned during the initial investigation. Both men were as odd as each other in Maggie’s opinion but, despite her gut feeling, the evidence had all pointed at Raven and eventually he confessed, leaving Adrian in the clear.

  Maggie had learnt recently that Raven had suffered a breakdown following his sentence and was currently on a hospital order until the doctors deemed him fit to return to prison.

  She sat up and ran her fingers through her knotted hair. She groaned; it was only 5:30 a.m. and way too early to head in to work. Although she was keen to start her new post with the Domestic Abuse and Homicide Unit – or DAHU – she didn’t want to appear overeager or tire herself out before the day had even begun. Maggie still cringed at the use of the word ‘homicide’. When she had queried it with her boss, DI Abigail Rutherford, she’d been advised that as homicide covers the offences of murder, manslaughter, and infanticide, the Police and Crime Commissioner, or PCC, was keen to use it to describe the newly formed team.

  Hearing the patter of tiny feet across the laminate flooring, Maggie looked down to find Scrappy staring up at her. A big meow made her laugh and she picked him up for a cuddle. Now that Scrappy knew she was awake, there was no way his belly was going to let her get another twenty minutes under the covers.

  ‘OK, cat, let’s go get you some brekkie.’

  Maggie put Scrappy down, grabbed the sweatshirt she’d thrown on the floor last night, and pulled it over her head. With Scrappy leading the way, she headed into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle.

  ‘Coffee first, Scrappy-boy, or I’m going to be grumpier than usual today!’

  Once she’d sorted the cat out, Maggie sat down at the breakfast bar and turned on her iPad to browse the news. She had this fear that Bill Raven would try to gain more notoriety with a story and she’d be pulled back into something that she was desperately trying to forget. The case was officially closed based on his confession, but if more bodies were discovered and linked to him, Maggie could find herself back with the Major and Organised Crime Department, or murder team as she preferred to call it. Maggie hated labels – keep things simple was her motto. She let Scrappy out and started to get ready. She had enough struggles of her own to worry about without repeatedly going over Raven’s case in her head. The best thing about starting with a new team was the chance to move forward and leave the past behind.

  After a quick shower, Maggie donned her usual black trouser suit and white blouse, opting for her low-heeled court shoes in case the day entailed any physical activity. She looked at herself in the mirror.

  ‘That’s as good as it gets.’

  Not really one for a lot of make-up or accessories when it came to work, Maggie pulled her shoulder-length, auburn hair back into a loose ponytail and straightened her collar.

  She grabbed her coat from the hook by the door and headed out.

  OK, DAHU – let’s see what you have in store for me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Robert Millard was what was known in the criminal justice arena as a domestic abuse perpetrator. Each agency used a lot of different acronyms, which Lucy found hard to keep track of at the best of times.

  She was currently supervising Robert on a two-year suspended sentence order, after a judge felt his years of sustained abuse against his estranged wife more than warranted the threat of custody if he breached the imposed requirements. Robert’s wife, Louise, was also granted an indefinite restraining order – which meant that he could have no contact with her unless it was removed.

  Lucy made her way to the reception area and called out for Robert. He looked exhausted and unkempt as he dragged his feet and followed her into the interview room designated for the riskier, more volatile offenders. Pointing at the chair across from her, Lucy asked Robert to sit down.

  ‘Why are we in here? We usually go upstairs.’

  She could feel the paranoia and edginess emanating from him as she asked him again to sit down; the last thing she wanted was for Robert to be standing up when she confronted him with the information she now had. She waited as he pulled the chair out and sat down.

  ‘Do you want to tell me what happened the other night, Robert?’ Lucy had learnt over the years that if she gave her offenders the opportunity to come clean, they were less likely to lash out when challenged. She had been supervising Robert on and off for three years now and wanted him to be the one to tell her. This would also give her a better idea of where his risk status was at.

  Robert’s face darkened. He clenched his fists tight and his eyes began to glaze over. Suddenly he snapped.

  ‘Who the fuck do you think you are, you fucking bitch?’ The spittle from his lips hit Lucy’s face like toxic raindrops. Grabbing a tissue from the drawer, Lucy wiped her face without losing eye contact with Robert. She’d not let him get the better of her.

  Lucy raised her hands to her ears to lessen the painful sound of metal screeching as Robert pushed back his chair. He leapt towards the wall and Lucy cringed when she heard the crack of his knuckle as flesh met concrete.

  ‘You’re ruining my life! All you bitches are the same.’

  Robert obviously wasn’t going to be forthcoming about the other night. Her hand hovered over the alarm button beneath the desk. Lucy glanced at the camera in the corner and was grateful that reception would be watching. Punching the wall was meant to intimidate her, but she wasn’t impressed. Robert paced the small room then grabbed the back of his chair.

  ‘Now what the fuck is going to happen to me?’

  Lucy waited for his breathing to return to normal. ‘Are you through then, Robert?’ She let the question hang in the air and watched as he calmed down. He nodded his head.

  ‘Then take a seat and I’ll explain everything.’

  Robert reluctantly sat down again, his eyes blazing. She could tell he wasn’t going to trust a word she said, and she prepared herself for another angry outburst.

  ‘Robert, you broke the conditions of your restraining order. That means, you also broke the requirements. What did you think was going to happen?’ Somehow she kept her voice icily calm.

  ‘She asked me to come over. Why am I the one getting into trouble?’ He almost sounded like a spoiled child.

  ‘You know why, Robert. I told you this. You signed the paperwork and said you understood what you were signing. Let’s not kid ourselves here: this is not the first order you’ve been on.’ Lucy cocked her head to the left and raised her eyebrows knowingly. ‘I explained to you that even if your ex-partner made contact, you were not to reply. Ignoring those instructions, you went to her house; you were drunk, you got angry, and you smashed a window—’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! She wound me up. She was drunk too. Rubbing it in my face that she has a new boyfriend that treats her better – fucking slag. How did she think I was going to react? I didn’t even touch her.’

  This wasn’t the first time Lucy had heard this story. Day in and day out, it was always the same. Always someone else’s fault; always the alcohol or drugs that ‘made them’ do it. Not one of these men, or women, ever wanted to accept responsibility for their actions.

  ‘Look, I have no choice but to give you a warning. You know that. You’ve been charged with a further offence. My hands are tied.’ She pushed across the envelope with his warning letter inside.

  ‘Are you fucking serious?’
The chair flew back as he stood up and towered over her.

  There was no way Lucy was going to let this dickhead take control. She pushed her own chair back calmly, stood face to face with him and looked him directly in the eyes.

  ‘Whoa, whoa – you need to calm down, Robert. I don’t want to have to push the panic button; there’s no need for you to stand over me like that. Can’t you see how your behaviour could be viewed as threatening?’

  Robert once again grabbed his chair but this time he sat back down almost immediately, and Lucy watched his chest rise and fall as he took deep breaths to control his temper.

  ‘Sorry, miss, but it just seems like every time I’m getting somewhere, it gets thrown back in my face and that pisses me off.’

  There it was again. That whiny voice. For a moment it was Patrick sitting across from her. She sat back down.

  ‘Robert, it’s your actions that’ve caused all this. We’ve been here before. You need to stop and think about things first. You have your group programme coming up soon. You’ll learn some more techniques that will help you recognize the triggers and avoid reacting violently to situations that anger you. We’ve also discussed alcohol previously. And before you say that if you were sober, this wouldn’t happen – just remember, alcohol doesn’t make you do the things you do. You act this way because you choose to. You know you need to keep away from your ex.’

  Lucy pointed at the warning letter in the hope that it would encourage Robert to read it. He jammed it into his back pocket unopened.

  ‘Are we done now?’ He stood up to leave.

  ‘Do you want to talk anymore about things? Maybe put a plan together in case the situation comes up again?’

  ‘Fuck that! I’m sick of that bitch getting me into trouble! Just give me my next appointment.’

  ‘It’s on your warning letter.’

  Robert tried to storm out of the room as Lucy smirked behind his back – he needed her to use her swipe card to exit the room. The power was still hers.

  ‘Open the fucking door!’

  ‘Right, Robert! Lose the bloody attitude and calm down!’ If she wasn’t careful she’d find herself facing a complaint, but she was so fed up with these men and their controlling ways. Lucy swiped her card and let Robert back out into the reception area.

  ‘See you next week, Robert.’

  Lucy couldn’t help but mutter ‘wanker’ under her breath. The receptionist briefly glanced up from her computer, and Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

  There was no response from Robert, but she hadn’t expected one. She knew he was still pretty pissed off, so she made a note to call the domestic abuse team and flag Louise’s address. With Robert in this mood, there was no telling what he might do to his ex-wife.

  Lucy needed caffeine to calm her nerves. Her job as a probation officer had her supervising some of the area’s most violent offenders and today was no different.

  ‘Hey, Lucy. Your hands are shaking, another tough session?’ Sarah asked as she made her way to the coffee machine. Sarah was a brilliant probation officer but also a very good friend.

  ‘Nah, just the usual, Sarah.’

  It wasn’t Robert Millard causing Lucy’s nerves to be on end. She knew that after work her parents and sister were coming around and she didn’t know what kind of mood Patrick would be in, considering he’d been still drunk before she’d left for work. Lucy wished she had the same confidence to deal with the situation at home as she did at work. Self-loathing crept over her as she put a false smile on her face to carry on with her day.

  Sarah looked at her in such a way that Lucy wondered if she knew. She rubbed Lucy’s shoulder reassuringly. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Lucy tapped her fingers on her desk as she stared at her computer screen, reading the Crown Prosecution documents for the pre-sentence report she had to complete. She wasn’t too keen on interviewing this guy as the offence was brutal in nature. Mr Talbot was late and bail conditions attached indicated that should he fail to attend his interview, a warrant would be issued. She would have to inform the courts. She remembered she needed to stop off at the shop on her way home and picked up her mobile phone to remind Patrick about collecting Siobhan from school.

  I know! I got your fucking note

  was the text she received back.

  Putting her head in her hands, she didn’t hear Sarah come up behind her.

  ‘Everything all right, Lucy?’

  Lucy jumped. ‘Yeah … sorry, I was in a world of my own there for a minute. Everything’s fine, Sarah. I’m just a little distracted. My family is coming for dinner – you know what it’s like.’ Lucy caught Sarah glancing at her phone screen and quickly turned it over.

  ‘Oh God, yes! Family, eh? The joys!’ Laughing awkwardly, Sarah again squeezed Lucy’s shoulder. ‘Well, let me know if I can do anything. You’re just looking a little stressed.’

  ‘Thanks, Sarah. I’m fine. Seriously. Just that bloody Robert Millard and now the guy I was interviewing for this court report has failed to show up. Not sure why I agreed to take on the domestic abuse cohort now. Sometimes I just think it would be better if they were all dead! Fucking controlling assholes.’ Lucy wished she could take back the words as soon as they left her mouth. ‘You know I don’t really mean that, right?’

  ‘Obviously. Take a few deep breaths, inform the courts and grab a cuppa. Do you want me to contact the police about Robert?’

  ‘Oh God. I nearly forgot. See what I mean? Thanks for reminding me. I’ll do it now, I need to speak with PC Fielding anyway.’

  She watched Sarah walk back to her desk and noted all the tasks she needed to complete for the day. Any excuse to stay a bit longer today at work suited Lucy just fine. The last time her parents visited had been a disaster and she wasn’t sure they’d forgiven her, or Patrick, yet. The longer she left it before seeing them, the better.

  Lucy smiled as she picked up the phone to call PC Mark Fielding, she could do with hearing a friendly voice.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Maggie felt a buzz of excitement as she stepped into the room and took in her new surroundings, the open-plan office lined with modern ‘pods’ on the second floor of a grey building. She thought back to when she had first been called into the DI’s office to discuss her move from the murder investigation team. She had been advised that given her recent experience with The Chopper case, her superiors felt that a step away from the team on a temporary basis would do her good, while still allowing her to be involved with the job she’d dedicated her life to. DI Rutherford had said she thought it would help her development.

  Maggie walked through the modern office. All the new offices seemed to be set up this way now. The desks were together in groups of two, facing each other. Plain white walls lined with motivational posters preaching the higher up’s latest mantras. Although there were eight of the ‘pods’, only three desks were currently occupied. There was also a small office that looked out over the open-plan area. Maggie suspected it was the detective sergeant’s.

  ‘Hi! Are you DC Jamieson?’ One of the people in the room called out, a young male of average build. He had a bright smile which immediately made her feel welcome.

  ‘I am indeed. You can call me Maggie in the office though. And you are …?’

  ‘I’m PC Mark Fielding – Mark. The guv said you were starting today. How about I give you a quick tour of the place? No doubt DS Hooper will sort out the formal side of things when he arrives and give you a rundown of the murder case that just came in. Start as you mean to go on and all that.’

  ‘Murder?’ She swallowed, then recovered her composure. So much for a break from homicide. ‘Thanks, Mark, it would be great if you could show me around.’

  With Mark making the introductions, Maggie learnt that PC Kat Everett was a feisty one and suspected that they would get on well. Maggie could smell the cigarette smoke from Kat’s clothing and noted her colourful nails. The other officer was P
C Pete Reynolds. Pete looked to be in his late thirties or early forties. He barely looked up from his computer screen as he said a strained, ‘hello’.

  ‘Don’t mind Pete.’ Mark laughed. ‘He’s just joined the team and is fairly new to the police. DS Hooper is making him read all the policies for a test at the end of the week.’ He winked, and Maggie understood the implied message – there was no test, his colleagues were just winding him up.

  ‘Ah, right then. I’ll leave you to it, Pete.’ Maggie gave him a quick nod.

  ‘We can grab a coffee and I can take you through to DI Joseph Calleja if you want?’ Mark headed towards what Maggie assumed to be the communal kitchen.

  ‘Hmmm … OK, but maybe that’s something DS Hooper will want to do? I don’t want to step on any toes, my first day and all.’

  ‘Good point! Right, let’s get the brews in. Hooper’s in a meeting at the moment. He’ll be back for the briefing at 11 a.m.. Why don’t you take the desk across from me? I’ve left the details of the other agencies on your desk. We’re what they call an integrated team and have probation, the Independent Domestic Violence Advocate, Drug and Alcohol services, as well as a few other agencies involved with our team on varying levels. I’m sure the guv will explain more. Sorry, you probably know all this, right?’

  Maggie smiled. Having never worked directly with other agencies as part of one team, she wondered if they ever pulled rank or allocated blame on each other when things went wrong. She followed Mark into the kitchen hoping to pick his brains, but before she had the opportunity, a phone rang, and Mark dashed past her to answer it.

  ‘Domestic Abuse Unit, PC Mark Fielding speaking. How can I help you?’

  Mark’s voice was a welcome sound considering the way today had started, Lucy thought.