‘I just wanted to talk.’
‘What about?’
‘He did it on purpose, you know. Making sure that last stash of cocaine was found in the fuel tank.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I do. He was already getting cold feet the last time he was back from Afghanistan. You could see it. But, I’d sourced the best buyer we’d ever had – a higher price, everything. We just needed that one last supply, and he blew it. All those promises I’d made. It was an embarrassment. I was finished, as far as working in the City was concerned. I had nothing.’
‘What did you do?’
‘He wouldn’t listen, don’t you see? I had to convince him that he couldn’t confess everything to his commanding officer later that week. He was going to ruin it for all of us. I tried to make him see sense, but then he told us that we were being unreasonable, and said he was going to go back to Deepcut that night and demand to see Stephen Carterton there and then and that he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. I was desperate – I thought if I spoke to him face to face, he’d see sense and keep quiet.’
‘Were you driving under the influence of drugs?’
Natalie bit her lip, then nodded.
‘I need you to answer out loud for the purposes of this recording.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you have an accident while driving?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me.’
‘I didn’t mean to.’
‘Tell me what happened, Natalie.’
‘He was going too fast. I didn’t see him.’
‘Did you stop after the accident?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I realised someone had swerved to avoid me. I thought he was okay. I stopped a few metres down the road, and ran back. I couldn’t see him at first. Then I saw the number plate on the back of the bike, and—’
She choked out a sob, and reached out for the paper tissue her solicitor handed to her.
‘I swear to God I didn’t mean to kill him. I found him lying on the verge – his body was all twisted. I panicked. I knew I had to get out of there. If Mum and Dad found out… I didn’t mean to kill him—’
‘He wasn’t dead, Natalie.’
The woman peered over the tissue at Kay, and cringed. ‘What?’
‘Jamie didn’t die on impact. If you’d phoned for help as soon as you found him, he might’ve stood a chance. Instead, you were too focused on yourself and thought only of leaving the scene as fast as possible. Jamie died in hospital four hours later from his injuries. They might have been able to save him, if you’d helped.’
‘No—’
Kay watched as Natalie slumped in her chair, the realisation slowly sinking in.
‘I can’t lose my children,’ she wailed.
Kay closed the folder and rested her hands on the top of it before signalling to Barnes.
‘Interview terminated.’
Fifty-One
Kay pushed open the door to interview room one to see Giles Stockton lift his head from his hands, and noted that he appeared to have been crying.
She had little sympathy for the man, and avoided eye contact with both him and his solicitor while Barnes restarted the recording equipment and cited the current time.
‘Mr Stockton, we’ll be speaking to the Crown Prosecution Service with a view to bringing charges against your wife Natalie in relation to the death of her brother, Jamie Ingram.’
She heard the rush of air escape the man’s lips as he slumped in his chair.
‘I don’t know what to say. What on earth do I tell Michael and Bridget?’
‘I doubt very much you’ll have the chance to speak with anyone by the time we’re finished here. It was you who phoned Jamie that night, wasn’t it? What did you talk about?’
He sniffed. ‘He’d had enough. The fact that the drugs had been discovered in the Jackal’s fuel tank frightened him – I think he knew it was the beginning of the end. He and Natalie had argued three days before when she had gone over to the farm. She had lost her job, and she had made promises to some people in the City who were expecting to take delivery of a large quantity of that last half kilo. She had done some sort of deal with them, something along the lines of if she provided the drugs, they’d provide her with a new role. She was desperate.’
‘Are you a drug addict, Mr Stockton?’
He shrugged. ‘I only had the occasional joint. Natalie was different, though. I think it’s something in her personality – it could have been alcohol, food, anything – I think she’s one of life’s natural addicts. So, when Jamie told me it was all over, she panicked. She would lose her own supply, as well as what we were selling on. I tried to persuade him to continue, and we argued. He ended the call by saying that he was going to go back to Deepcut that night and demand to see his commanding officer to tell him what was going on.’
‘And you told Natalie.’
‘Yeah. She was staying at my flat in Maidstone, so she heard my end of the phone conversation, and when I told her what Jamie had said, she flew into a rage. You have to understand – she was Michael and Bridget’s favourite. Yes, they loved Jamie I’m sure, but Natalie was their golden child. She couldn’t bear for them to find out what had been going on. I tried to stop her, really, I did, but she was as high as a kite by then. She stormed out of the flat, saying that she was going over to the farm to talk to him herself.’
‘What happened when she came back?’
Stockton raised his hands to his mouth and blew on them, as if he was afraid to let the words pass his lips. After a moment, he sighed.
‘After an hour, I was beginning to panic. I knew better than to phone Jamie’s mobile – the way our conversation had ended, he wouldn’t have answered anyway when he saw my number. I tried phoning Natalie’s number, but it kept going to voicemail. She came back about an hour and a half after she left, and I knew straightaway something was wrong. She was pale – so, so pale, and she was shaking; it was as if she were going into shock. I got her to sit on the sofa next to me, and eventually she told me what had happened.’
He broke off, and wiped the tears that streaked down his face.
‘She’d been so high on drugs, she’d forgotten to switch on the car’s headlights when she left my flat. It didn’t matter driving through town and then out towards the farm; the streets are well lit until you reach the roundabout for the Leeds turnoff, and by then she was having enough trouble keeping the car on the road to notice. She said she didn’t know how it happened – she was driving around the curve, then got blinded by a single light moments before she realised what had happened.’
He broke off, unable to speak as sobs wracked his body.
‘Why didn’t you report her to the police?’ said Kay.
‘I was too scared. I didn’t want to lose my job. I was scared I’d lose Natalie.’
‘Whose idea was the rehab clinic?’
‘Harrison.’
‘What?’
Giles sighed. ‘I think he knew she was a high risk by then, incapable of anything except thinking about where her next fix was coming from. I think he was a bit afraid of her as well, and what she might tell people while she was high as a kite. He said he’d ensure Jamie’s crash was ruled as an accident, but in return Natalie had to get cleaned up – and stay clean.’
‘Did he blackmail you?’
‘Money, you mean?’
‘Yes.’
Stockton shook his head. ‘The knowledge was enough. He knew about us, and we knew about his scheme to siphon off money from other drug deals going on around the county. You could call it a stalemate.’
‘So, you, Natalie, and Harrison kept it a secret for all these years.’
‘Yes. In a strange sort of way, it brought Natalie and me closer together. Of course, then we had even more to lose if anyone found out.’
Kay shook her head, and then listened to Barnes as he concluded the interview wh
ile she pondered her next task.
She had no idea how she was going to tell Michael and Bridget Ingram that they had solved the case, and arrested Jamie’s killer.
Fifty-Two
Twenty-four hours later, Kay threw a pile of manila folders into the tray on her desk, and sighed.
After charging Giles Stockton with profiteering from the proceeds of money laundering, the sale of illegal substances, and perverting the course of justice by failing to raise his concerns about his wife’s involvement in Jamie Ingram’s death, she’d returned home close to midnight and had fallen into an exhausted sleep in Adam’s arms, too tired to contemplate dinner.
For once, he hadn’t nagged her.
He had forced her to eat two slices of toast before allowing her to leave the house that morning though, and she smiled at the memory.
She’d been fifteen the last time she could remember eating breakfast.
They had made arrangements that she would leave work early – she and Adam were to meet Rufus’s foster family at a favourite spot on the Pilgrim’s Way where Graham wanted to scatter the retired police dog’s ashes. He wouldn’t let Adam say “no” when he called round to their house on the way to take his daughter to school.
‘He was one of the best dogs Kent Police had, so we’d be honoured,’ said Adam. ‘He had quite a track record for catching burglars, I hear.’
Graham had choked out a laugh. ‘Just as well. He was useless at chasing rabbits.’
Kay rubbed at her right eye, and then pushed back her chair and wandered into Sharp’s office.
There was still no word on when the DI might return to work.
Larch had been pleased with the result she and the team had obtained, and to Kay’s amazement had personally congratulated her on a case well managed. His sabbatical had begun the day before, and the chief superintendent was rumoured to be keeping a close eye on the station in the absence of a senior officer.
Kay picked up a cloth and began to wipe away the scrawled notes from the whiteboard, removing the photographs she’d tacked up, and clearing the detritus left behind by her and the team.
A sense of pride filled her. It was the first time she’d led the team without having to defer to a senior officer, and she was surprised at how much she enjoyed the responsibility.
When she’d mentioned it to Adam the night before, he had rolled his eyes.
‘Told you,’ he’d said.
She grinned. Sometimes, she wished her emotions weren’t quite so transparent. Often, her veterinary partner knew better than she did when it came to how far she was willing to push herself to get a result.
She turned at movement at the door, to see Barnes leaning against the frame.
‘Do you and Adam want to come over to dinner tomorrow night? Sorry it’s short notice, but I figured we haven’t caught up properly for ages, and Emma’s back from university. I know she’d be keen to see you.’
‘Sounds great, thanks. What time?’
‘About six suit you?’
‘Fabulous. We’ll bring the wine.’
She turned back to the now clean whiteboard, and wondered if Larch had brought Sharp up to speed with the events of the past few days.
Larch had elected to go and speak to the Ingrams with Kay regarding the arrest of their daughter, and in hindsight she’d been thankful.
Bridget had been distraught, and Michael had simply shaken his head before showing them to the door.
He’d called out to Kay as she’d been making her way to the car.
‘Don’t come back here again, Detective. You’re not welcome.’
On the way back to the station, Larch had informed her that Giles and Natalie’s children would be moving in with their grandparents for the foreseeable future.
Kay had watched the orchards pass the car window as they’d left the farm, and hoped the presence of children on the farm once more would go some way to ease the Ingrams’ pain.
Her emotions had been buoyed by the news that Simon Harrison would now face further charges, and would receive a custodial sentence that would put him behind bars for a number of years.
She gathered the last of the stationery and case files into her arms before placing them on a trolley to be passed on to the administration team for processing, ignoring the persistent ache in her arm, and then frowned at the sound of a commotion at the main door to the incident room.
She pushed the trolley to one side, and stuck her head out of the door of the office.
Devon Sharp was making his way through the room – a slow process, as every officer greeted him, shaking his hand or slapping him on the shoulder.
She noticed that the beard had gone, and his hair was shorn back to its skull-hugging style that he preferred from his military days. His posture had changed, too. Where a few weeks ago she’d seen a shrunken man, he stood tall and proud as he laughed and joked with the team.
She leaned against the doorframe and watched as he crossed the room, her heart racing.
After all, her insistence at helping him had uncovered the truth behind the death of his godson, and destroyed the family of his closest friends.
Would he ever forgive her?
He seemed to make a point of ignoring her as he weaved between the desks, laughing with Barnes, teasing Carys, and shaking Gavin’s hand, and paranoia clutched at her chest.
Had she made a mistake?
He turned then, and seemed to notice her for the first time.
She swallowed, and tried not to panic.
After all, with Larch on leave for the foreseeable future, DCI Devon Sharp was now her senior officer.
His face relaxed into a broader smile as he stopped in front of her.
‘Guv.’
The skin at the sides of his eyes crinkled, and then he held out his hand.
‘Good work, Hunter.’
She breathed a sigh of relief, pushed away from the door frame to his office, and then waved him inside.
‘Welcome back, guv.’
* * *
THE END
From the author
Dear Reader,
* * *
First of all, I wanted to say a huge thank you for choosing to read Call to Arms. I hope you enjoyed the story.
For Kay’s first investigation as a newly-promoted detective inspector, I wanted to show that she was still vulnerable after the events in Hell to Pay. It’s always been important to me to depict her as realistic, and so you see her raw emotions as she battles with both making her mark in her new role and dealing with what that entails.
I also wanted to convey the camaraderie within the team. Kay Hunter has never been a lone wolf, and so this story was an opportunity to bring them together to save one of their own.
If you did enjoy Call to Arms, I'd be grateful if you could write a review. It doesn't have to be long, just a few words, but it is the best way for me to help new readers discover one of my books for the first time.
If you'd like to stay up to date with my new releases, as well as exclusive competitions and giveaways, you’re welcome to join my Reader Group at my website, www.rachelamphlett.com. I will never share your email address, and you can unsubscribe at any time.
You can also contact me via Facebook, Twitter, or by email. I love hearing from readers – I read every message and will always reply.
Thanks again for your support.
* * *
Best wishes,
Rachel Amphlett
Copyright © 2018 by Rachel Amphlett
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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