Child’s Play: A totally unputdownable serial killer thriller, page 13
Penn considered lying but nodded instead.
‘Mr Kapoor, a lot happened in court today. Not good things from our point of view. I promised I’d keep you informed and I have to tell you that we’re currently taking another look at the case.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t understand. Gregor Nuryef murdered my son. You told me so. You said you had your man.’
Yes, he had. Right after they’d received the results of the DNA test, he’d visited the man and his family straight after his shift and given them the news.
‘The tee shirt, with Dev’s blood. It was…’
‘It was, Mr Kapoor. It was right there in Nuryef’s shed, but there are inconsistencies that we can’t ignore.’
‘That man who was killed. He was going to testify that Nuryef was at home that night?’
Penn nodded. ‘It’s an easy mistake to make. His testimony was based on hearing his neighbour call the dog in at ten thirty every night. He was no threat to the case.’
‘He was a threat to someone,’ Mr Kapoor said, simply.
Penn agreed but was hoping that the team working the McCann murder case were going to turn up some indisputable reason for the defence witness’s death being unrelated to the Kapoor case. Perhaps the man had defaulted on gambling debts to the wrong person or maybe he was a drug dealer murdered by a disgruntled client. His logical mind told him that the forty-six-year-old accountant was unlikely to be either, but he had to hang on to the hope.
‘We’re investigating every angle to ensure that—’
‘Please don’t do that, sir,’ Mr Kapoor said, smiling sadly. ‘From that first night, you’ve treated me with respect. We stood over Dev’s body together,’ he said, glancing at the spot where he’d lain. ‘You explained even then that you might not find the person responsible without any CCTV, but I sensed in you the passion to do your best. You’ve always been fair and honest, please don’t give me police-speak now.’
Penn nodded and took a deep breath. ‘Mr Kapoor, we are checking to make sure we got the right man.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I can understand how that must make you feel. You’re angry at me and us as you have every right…’
‘I am angry at the person who took my son from me. I am angry at the person who robbed my wife of her first-born. I am angry at the person who has caused my young daughters to face grief, fear and mistrust earlier than they should. I was told repeatedly by the police to improve my security, and I didn’t listen to you or your colleagues and I paid a high price. I have no one to blame for that but myself.’
Penn suddenly felt sick to his stomach.
‘Mr Kapoor, I want you to know that we will do everything we can to get this straightened out.’
‘I know you will, sir,’ he said, as another customer entered the shop.
Penn nodded his goodbye and left the premises, feeling even shittier than when he’d walked in.
FORTY-TWO
‘You sure I can come in?’ Bryant asked, as he pulled the car to a stop.
‘You a vampire who can’t enter without an invitation?’ she asked.
‘You know why I’m asking.’
‘Yep, but this isn’t a personal visit.’
‘Great, I love this guy.’
Kim rolled her eyes. She had another guy at home who got just as excited when she brought him to this address.
‘Hey, Ted,’ she said, as her old counsellor opened the front door.
‘Hello, Kim, and I see you brought reinforcements.’
Kim smiled as she stepped into the house. ‘He’s got a bit of a man crush on you,’ she said, walking past him.
‘She’s right, I do,’ Bryant said, following her into the house.
‘Well, thank you. And I’m guessing this must be work related,’ Ted observed. ‘As this is not even close to the unreasonable hour you call if it’s a personal visit.’
She nodded her acknowledgment.
He tipped his head. ‘So, are we just going to pretend that the last time you were here you didn’t snap my head off and then storm out?’
‘Absolutely,’ she said. This was nothing new to them. It was how she’d grown up.
‘She did?’ Bryant asked, as they all stood in the small kitchen.
‘Indeed, Bryant, when I told her I didn’t think she should be working that copycat case.’
‘Ah,’ Bryant said.
‘Our visit did not end well.’
‘So, I’m cannon fodder?’ Bryant asked.
‘Oh yeah,’ she said, taking a custard cream from the biscuit barrel.
‘And where shall we be sitting today, my dear?’ he asked with a twinkle in his eye.
During her last visit, he had explained that she chose to sit outside when she didn’t want to speak. She chose to sit in the living room if she wanted his help, and she chose the kitchen if she wanted his opinion as it was the closest of the three to the door ready for when she stormed out if his opinion didn’t agree with her own.
‘Living room,’ Kim advised. ‘And I’ll make the coffee while you two catch up.’
Ted nodded and guided Bryant into the lounge.
She put the kettle on and pulled down three mugs from the cupboard.
‘What a lovely room,’ Bryant said, as she spooned in the instant granules. ‘So this is where young Kim talked to the only person she could trust?’
‘Not really,’ Ted said, as she poured in the milk. ‘She talked very little anywhere in the house and yet still she continued to come. Every scheduled appointment she turned up and most of them for silence.’
Kim poured the water into the mugs. She remembered each and every session.
‘She never let me help her and yet she still continued to come. Not sure exactly what she got—’
‘Hey, Bryant, that’s my seat,’ Kim said, carrying the tray into the room.
Bryant moved from the single chair by the fire to the end of the sofa.
Ted looked at the drinks, shook his head and stood.
‘Too strong, as usual.’
He returned from the kitchen and poured extra milk into his mug and at her colleague’s agreement into his drink too.
‘Wimps,’ she muttered.
‘So, how may I help?’ Ted asked, folding his hands in his lap.
‘You know anyone by the name of Barry Nixon?’ she asked, figuring that the world of child counselling wasn’t endless and that the two men might have encountered each other.
He thought for a second, his brows furrowed. ‘The name is familiar.’
Kim got the impression he was working back through his memories. Although semi-retired now he was still called upon for the occasional tough nut to crack.
‘Yes, yes, I think I recall a fellow by that name. Worked for the department about twenty years ago. Not for very long if I remember correctly.’
Kim offered Bryant a triumphant smile. This man was like an oracle.
‘Hmm… case chaser he was, I remember him now. Tall, slim, fair hair, owlish features.’
Yep, that was their guy. ‘Case chaser?’ she asked.
‘Yes, there were a few of them but he was particularly ambitious. There were certain cases that came in that caused some hands to go in the air quicker than others. He chased the juiciest, nastiest, most high-profile cases that came through the department. We’re talking the most damaged, broken, angry kids the care system had to offer.’
Kids like you, she heard in the tone behind the words.
‘But why particular cases?’ Kim asked. ‘Surely helping any child that was suffering was enough.’
‘Thought he could mend anyone. But he wanted the high-profile cases for two reasons. He wanted to write papers, journals, books. He wanted to build his CV and gain a reputation as a field leader before going into private practice. There’s a lot of money to be made in the private sector but a lot of competition too.’
‘Go on,’ Kim urged, fascinated yet horrified that treating vulnerable children had been such a calculated ambition to the man.
‘A lot of counselling work involves listening, or not listening in your case,’ he added, with a smirk. ‘Different types of trauma require different types of approach: child abuse, neglect, PTSD, abandonment, all require a different toolkit but they all require one common denominator. Patience. You go at the speed of the child. That is—’
‘She’s right, Ted,’ Bryant said. ‘I do have a bit of a man crush on you.’
Both she and Ted laughed out loud.
‘Sorry, I just couldn’t keep it in any longer,’ Bryant apologised.
‘Thank you,’ he said, continuing. ‘It was a trait he didn’t possess. He got into trouble a few times for rushing cases to conclusion too soon.’
‘Is that why he left Children’s Services?’ she asked.
Ted shook his head. ‘He left because he was asked to.’
‘Why?’ Kim asked, leaning forward.
‘Tammy Hopkins.’
‘Who?’
Ted took a sip of his drink. ‘That’s not her real name. We all called her Tammy Hopkins so we knew who we were talking about and didn’t slip-up and reveal her true identity. Tammy was the eleven-year-old daughter of the singer-songwriting couple from Glasgow.’
‘I remember something; about fifteen years ago?’ Bryant asked.
Ted nodded.
‘Murder suicide of parents. Mother stabbed father and then cut her own wrists. Tammy was ten years old and saw it all. Terrified, she hid in the outside shed for two days until a neighbour stopped by with a wrongly delivered parcel and found the whole bloody mess.’
He shuddered. ‘Well, Tammy was moved down here to live with her aunt and you can guess who was first in line to take that case. Anyway, it became clear after a while that Tammy had been abused by her father making her a rape victim and…’
‘Giving her lifelong anonymity.’
‘Meaning he would never be able to write about or mention the case outside of the service again. He couldn’t capitalise on her misery and so cut her treatment short claiming he’d helped her as much as he could.’
‘And?’
‘She cut her own wrists two weeks later. She died.’
Kim felt the rage build inside her for the pain of that little girl.
‘How the hell was he not prosecuted?’
Ted shrugged. ‘One of the most subjective areas of counselling is when to let a patient go. There’s no way of knowing for sure if you’ve done enough. To be safe you’d have to treat them all for life,’ he said, looking at her pointedly.
She laughed and felt the tension ease out of her.
‘I have no idea what happened to him after that.’
‘Have you heard of some kind of event called Brainboxes?’
His frown returned. ‘Don’t tell me he’s been involved in that? If so I’m sure there are plenty of poor damaged souls there to keep him busy. Not that I know a lot about it. Some kind of mental gladiators’ thing but for kids. I wouldn’t like to say more as I’ve never been.’
She sipped the last of her drink and stood. Bryant reluctantly followed her lead.
‘Can I come back without her and just listen to you?’ Bryant asked, offering his hand.
‘Of course,’ Ted replied, smiling and patting him on the arm. ‘I’m surprised you don’t need extensive counselling yourself given the hours you spend with…’
‘Hey, enough,’ she said, turning. ‘And thanks, Ted.’
‘You’re welcome, as ever, my dear.’
Kim followed Bryant to the car. He got in. She did not.
She went back to where Ted stood on the doorstep.
‘Peace,’ she said, meeting his questioning gaze. ‘You told Bryant you didn’t know why I came to every session to be silent. I came for peace. I came for a rest from this,’ she said, tapping her temple.
‘I don’t understand…’
‘I came because I knew that while I was here you’d never let anyone hurt me.’
She saw the emotion gather in his eyes before she turned and headed back to the car.
FORTY-THREE
‘You know, that guy just makes me want to open up and give him all my shit. He’s like Yoda.’
‘I know,’ Kim said, taking out her phone. Bryant started the car and waited as she pressed Stacey’s number.
‘Hey, boss.’
‘Appears our guy was a bit of a glory hunter. Went after big cases only,’ she said. ‘You got anything on Brainboxes?’
‘Only what the website is showing me so far. It’s a two-day event for the brightest kids in the country. Been going for years. All kinds of competitions culminating in a quiz at the end of the event between the brightest boys and girls. There’s prizes and everything. Lots of photos of kids enjoying themselves on the website. Current organisers are a husband and wife team who I can’t get hold of at the minute as they’re on their way to the venue, which happens to be The Village Hotel in Stourport.’
‘Okay, Stace, call it a night,’ she said, remembering Woody’s warning. ‘But we brief at seven,’ she said ending the call.
‘Guv…’
‘Yep, you too, Bryant, so drop me back at the station.’
He grumbled but put the car in gear and pulled away from the kerb.
Stacey’s assessment of the event seemed at odds with what they’d just learned from Ted, and yet his description had ear-wormed into her brain.
Gladiators for Kids.
FORTY-FOUR
‘Okay, kids, how are we feeling this morning?’ Kim asked.
‘Like we’re starting work at the right time of the day for a start,’ Bryant offered brightly.
‘Glad to oblige,’ Kim said, feeling the exact same way. Her day had started at five with a brisk walk around the park with Barney while the coffee brewed, and no one else was around.
The dog had chowed down a bowl of dried food with added chicken pieces while she’d drunk said coffee and then they’d both stepped into the garden to watch the sky lighten as the sun came up.
Her best friend had been left munching on a carrot and his buddy, Charlie, from down the road would come pick him up later for an afternoon walk and a shift of squirrel hunting in Charlie’s back garden.
Bryant referred to it as ‘dog share’ but it was a great arrangement that suited them all.
‘So, we know our second victim was planning to attend the Brainbox thingy today. His services paid for by the organisers who we definitely want to speak with,’ she said, glancing at Stacey, who nodded.
‘But I would like to know why Veronica didn’t share where her sister was going.’
‘You think she knew?’ Bryant asked.
‘She knew everything else about her sister, so I’m guessing so. Carry on digging on the sisters, Stace. There’s a lot there we don’t know, and I want a meeting with the Brainbox folks as soon as possible. And don’t forget the cross-referencing of the dates that both victims attended.’
‘Will do, boss.’
Kim was aware of the workload she was throwing in Stacey’s direction and glanced longingly at Penn’s empty chair.
‘Keats is going to let us know if there’s anything more to note about Nixon once he’s done the post-mortem later this—’
‘Hiya,’ said a bright voice from the door.
All three of them glanced towards the beaming elfin figure dressed in a constable uniform. Kim guessed her to be around five and half feet with her blonde hair pulled into a bun on the back of her head.
Kim hadn’t realised it was dress your kid and bring it to work day.
‘Are you lost?’ Kim asked, trying to keep the edge from her voice. The door was clearly marked CID.
She shook her head, still beaming, as she stepped into the room.
‘I’m Tiffany, like the singer, Tiff. I was told you were expecting me.’
‘To do what?’ Kim asked.
She shrugged her delicate little shoulders. ‘Help out, I think.’
Kim looked to her colleagues to see if she was missing something. Their expressions said not.
‘Tiffany, I’m not sure?…’
‘DCI Woodward requested me,’ she said, barely able to keep the joy out of her voice as though she’d been promised a trip to Disneyland. ‘He said you’re a team member down and I’m so excited to be asked to help.’
And still her smile hadn’t wavered.
‘I’ve heard so much about you all. You do such exciting work and I can’t believe I’m here right now.’
Kim looked to Bryant who was staring with the same bewilderment as Stacey.
‘I think there’s been a mistake, Tiffany. If you return to your normal duties, I’ll sort this with the DCI once—’
‘He said you might say that,’ she said, smiling even wider as though she was in on some kind of joke. ‘He told me to remind you of your conversation yesterday, and oh my God, this office is fab,’ she said, looking around before taking a seat.
An action that prompted Stacey’s expression to change from amused curiosity to panic-stricken.
‘Please use me however you want,’ she offered, brightly. ‘I’m just so…’
‘Yeah, we get it,’ Kim said, glancing at Stacey whose eyes beseeched her to remove the interloper.
I can’t, her expression said back.
‘I’ll speak to Woo… DCI Woodward and clarify the arrangements,’ she said.
Tiffany nodded enthusiastically and beamed.
‘But in the meantime, I’m sure Stacey will find something you can help her with.’
‘Oketty doketty,’ she answered.
Kim gave Stacey an apologetic look as she grabbed her coat. She had to get out.
Suddenly their small office was way too bright for her eyes.
FORTY-FIVE
They had almost reached Veronica’s home when Woody finally answered her call. It may have been the twenty-seven attempts in quick succession that had told him she wasn’t going away.
‘Good morning, Stone,’ he answered.
And his cheery greeting told her he knew exactly why she was calling.
‘Is she my punishment, sir?’
‘I remember explaining that every action has a—’
