The Optician, page 23
“Uniforms have been busy there since the broadcast went out,” DC Moore argued. “They’ve come up with nothing. All of the properties with basements have been checked and Dr Sweetman isn’t in any of them.”
“It’s only a matter of time before we find her,” Smith said. “We know who she is now, and she cannot hide forever.”
“Let’s go through what we know about Heidi Grove,” DI Smyth said.
“She was telling the truth about the Dentistry degree, sir,” DC King said. “She was taking a year out after her third year.”
“She has no family,” Smith said. “We know what happened to her twin sister, and her parents are both deceased. Hold on…”
Bridge looked over at him and grinned.
“Find out when her parents died,” Smith said.
Bridge nodded. “I think I know what you’re getting at.”
“Could you do that now please, Kerry?” Smith asked DC King.
“No problem,” DC King said.
“Have I missed something?” DC Moore said.
“We’ve been here before, Harry,” Smith said. “Heidi Grove has no living siblings. Her parents are dead.”
“Inheritance,” DC Moore said.
“Got it in one. Heidi is the sole heir. I’ve got a strong suspicion that she’s been carrying out her work in her parent’s old house.”
“It shouldn’t take long to find out,” DI Smyth said.
“Do you think the celebrity shrink is still alive?” Bridge said.
“I think she is,” Smith said. “I don’t know why, but I’ve got a feeling that Dr Vanessa Sweetman is still breathing.”
* * *
“Are you still with us?”
Dr Sweetman opened her left eye. Her right eye was swollen shut. Her nose was throbbing in time with her heartbeat, and she could taste blood in her mouth. She ran her tongue over the gaps where two of her teeth once were and focused on the young woman standing over her.
“I need you to change heads.”
Dr Sweetman had no idea what this meant. Her vocal cords wouldn’t oblige her, so she shook her head.
“I want you to lose the celebrity podcast head. I need your advice as a psychologist. Can you do that?”
Dr Sweetman managed to reply in the affirmative.
The Optician placed a hand on Dr Sweetman’s forehead. “You have a fever. You’re burning up. I’m going to give you something to bring your temperature down.”
Dr Sweetman barely felt the needle as it entered the skin of her lower arm.
“This should work quickly. I’m not a monster. Do you think I’m a monster?”
“No,” Dr Sweetman said.
She mustered some saliva and licked her lips.
“I think you’re ill.”
“Can I be cured?”
“I believe you can,” Dr Sweetman said. “But first you need to acknowledge what you did. You need to own your actions.”
“Own my actions,” The Optician repeated.
“You’ve been hurt. You have wounds that are deep, and they haven’t been allowed to heal. With help, this can be fixed.”
“Do you think what I did was justified?”
“It’s not what I think that matters,” Dr Sweetman said. “You can only begin your path to recovery when you figure out the answer to that question yourself. I can’t assist you with that.”
The Optician picked up a tablet from the table and tapped the screen.
“Look.”
She thrust it into Dr Sweetman’s face.
“I’m more famous than you now. Do you think I look better with or without makeup.”
“It doesn’t really matter. Beauty is what’s inside you.”
“You do talk a lot of nonsense sometimes.” The words were sung rather than spoken.
“They will find you,” Dr Sweetman told her. “I think you should help them.”
“Why should I do that?”
“Because you want to get caught. You’ve finished what you set out to do. You did it, and now it’s over, you have to take the next step.”
The tablet was replaced on the table.
“Did you know?” The Optician said. “You were there. Did you know what they did to Ivy?”
“I didn’t,” Dr Sweetman said. “I was just one of the judges. I wasn’t given any details.”
“Do I believe you?”
“It’s the truth. I wasn’t involved. You need to do the right thing.”
The Optician started to laugh. “Nah, I thought it would be harder than it was. Have you ever killed someone?”
“No,” Dr Sweetman said.
“Are you scared of me?”
“Yes. Your erratic behaviour frightens me. You’re unpredictable and that’s unsettling.”
“I could kill you right now.”
“I understand that,” Dr Sweetman said. “But I don’t think that would achieve anything, would it?”
The Optician nodded thoughtfully.
“I have to go out,” she said after a few seconds.
“Where are you going?” Dr Sweetman said.
“Somewhere important. If you die before I get back, I’m sorry. I really am – I want you to know that.”
CHAPTER SIXTY
“I want every officer who isn’t drunk or away on holiday over to this address now.”
DI Smyth shot up his chair.
“Hold your horses,” Smith said.
“That’s my line,” DI Smyth reminded him.
“If The Optician is there,” Smith said. “Dr Sweetman could still be in grave danger. We can’t risk storming the place. We need to do it subtly.”
“When have you ever been subtle?”
“Since the reality of reaching the age of forty has dawned on me.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Just me and you, boss,” Smith said. “We knock on the door and take it from there.”
Smith’s hunch had been spot on. Heidi Grove’s parents had died within a year of one another. Her father had gone first and nine months after his fatal heart attack Heidi’s mother had suffered a stroke and died in hospital two days later. Mr and Mr Grove owned a property between Heworth and Tang Hall. The three-bedroom semi-detached house was on Fourth Avenue and even though there was nothing in the plans to suggest that there was a basement, Smith was convinced that they had the right place. The property had been transferred to Heidi Grove three months ago, and he knew it was where The Optician had carried out her macabre operations.
It was after nine when they parked down the street from number 34 Fourth Avenue. Smith got out of the car, lit a cigarette and looked up and down the road. Number 34 was on the corner of Fourth Avenue and Tang Hall Lane. The house was larger than most of the others in the street and, according to the plans it was on a much bigger plot of land. DI Smyth had insisted on backup, of course and a short phone call told him that everything was set up around the corner in Melrose Close. Smith had wanted an ambulance nearby too but that wasn’t going to happen. He was informed that it wasn’t viable to tie up medical personnel on the basis of a possible emergency.
“Ready?” DI Smyth said.
Smith put out his cigarette. “We’re going to get her tonight.”
“There’s a strong possibility that she’s seen the media frenzy surrounding her,” DI Smyth said. “Her face has been staring out from every news site in the country and it’s likely that will make her unpredictable.”
“What woman isn’t unpredictable?” Smith said.
DI Smyth scratched his cheek and walked in the direction of Tang Hall Lane.
Smith took a moment to study the house. There were no lights on inside, and it didn’t look like there was anybody at home. He knocked on the door anyway. DI Smyth reached inside his pocket and pulled something out.
“What the hell are you doing?” Smith nodded to the Taser.
“I’m not taking any chances,” DI Smyth said.
“You do realise that just by taking that thing out of your pocket, you’re obliged to file a report when this is all over.”
“Only if someone saw me draw it.”
“Are you suggesting I turn a blind eye?”
“What’s got into you?” DI Smyth said. “I much preferred the pre-midlife crisis Smith. You were much more fun to work with before you got old.”
Smith knocked again and waited. When nothing happened for ten seconds, he placed a hand on the door handle and turned it. The door was unlocked. DI Smyth indicated with a finger to his lips that they were to keep quiet. A couple of other hand signals followed, and Smith had no idea what DI Smyth was trying to tell him.
DI Smyth rolled his eyes.
“Go in slowly,” he whispered. “According to the plans, there are three rooms downstairs – a living room, a dining room and a kitchen. The dining and living room are on the left, and the kitchen is at the end. Keep your eyes left and ahead. There shouldn’t be any surprises from the right-hand side.”
“And you told me all that with a few hand signals?” Smith said. “Is that the sort of crap they teach you in the army?”
“Idiot.”
“It’s pitch black in there,” Smith said. “I’m going to turn on a light. Is that OK?”
DI Smyth nodded.
“Do not point that taser anywhere near me,” Smith told him.
They went inside. Smith found a light switch on the wall just inside the door. It took a moment to adjust to the sudden light but when he was able to see properly, he realised something immediately. The building plans they’d seen for number 34 Fourth Avenue were inaccurate. According to the floor plan the house was a mirror image of the adjacent property. The doors to the living room and dining room were wide open but there was a third door further along the hallway that was closed, and this door shouldn’t be there.
After making sure that the first two downstairs rooms were empty Smith and DI Smyth scanned the kitchen with the same result. They stood outside the mystery third door and Smith turned to face DI Smyth when there was a sound from behind the door.
“Backup,” Smith said.
DI Smyth realised that it wasn’t a question when Smith swung the door open wide and a strip of light lit up half a dozen stairs.
“Another fucking cellar,” Smith said and started to walk downwards.
“I’ll keep watch up here,” DI Smyth said.
“We need that ambulance now,” Smith shouted up.
Dr Vanessa Sweetman was slumped over in a chair in the middle of the room. Her hands were taped to the arms of the chair and there was a tube attached to her wrist. An IV bag containing a clear liquid was hanging crudely from a nail on the table next to the chair. Smith could smell blood. He freed Dr Sweetman’s hands, carefully raised her up and felt for a pulse.
“She’s still alive,” he screamed. “We need a fucking ambulance now.”
He held onto Dr Sweetman’s hand and took in her injuries. One of her eyes was swollen shut and there was swelling on and around her nose. There was no blood on her face. Her lips were cracked and slightly open. Smith could see that some of her teeth were missing.
“Hold on,” Smith said. “Help is on the way.”
He felt pressure on his hand and Dr Sweetman’s good eye opened.
“Is she still here?” Smith asked her.
Dr Sweetman shook her head, and it obviously hurt to do so. The pain was written on her face.
“An ambulance is on the way,” Smith said. “Do you know where she went?”
Dr Sweetman’s mouth opened wider. “Somewhere important.”
“She said she was going somewhere important?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to be OK,” Smith said. “You look like shit by the way.”
Dr Sweetman squeezed his hand.
“Don’t try to speak,” Smith said. “We’ll have you out of here in no time.”
“Jason,” Dr Sweetman said.
“Don’t speak.”
“What took you so long?”
CHAPTER SIXTY ONE
Smith shivered and rubbed his hands together. It was almost midnight, and the temperature had fallen below zero. He crossed the bridge over Tang Hall Beck and headed for the dim lights in the distance. He stopped when he was halfway. He could hear a woman’s voice, and it was a familiar one.
Heidi Grove was sitting cross-legged in front of the memorial wall. Smith stayed where he was and let her talk. After a minute or so, he approached and stood a few metres behind her.
“Do you mind if I sit down?”
Heidi nodded without turning round. Smith knew that he should feel afraid right now – this was a woman who had mutilated and killed four people, but Smith felt no fear as he sat down beside her with his hands on his knees. The Optician was gone, and a sad young woman had taken her place.
“We found the diary,” Smith said.
Heidi looked at him now. “Did you read it?”
“I read enough. I’ll read the rest later. You know you have to come with me now.”
“What will happen to me?”
“That’s not my department,” Smith said and regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth. “I mean – it’s not me who gets to decide. You’ll be evaluated and then it’s up to the people who make the hard decisions.”
“Is Dr Sweetman still alive?”
“We got to her in time,” Smith told her. “You didn’t have to do that to her. She played no part in this.”
“I told her I was sorry. I needed her to tell my story.”
“She didn’t get to finish it,” Smith said. “Do you want to do that now?”
“It’s all in the diary.”
The diary she was referring to was her sister’s. They’d found it in one of the bedrooms. Smith had only read a few paragraphs, but he suspected that Catherine Grove’s journal would fill in the remaining gaps left in the investigation.
“You didn’t know that Catherine kept a diary, did you?” Smith said.
He guessed that Heidi had only stumbled across it when she inherited her parents’ house.
He was right.
“I found it when I was clearing some things out of the house,” Heidi said. “I didn’t know my sister at all.”
“I didn’t really know my sister either,” Smith said. “The diary is behind everything you did, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t even know. I didn’t know how deeply Catherine was hurt by what happened to Ivy. I didn’t even see it, and I should have done. What those girls did destroyed her. It tore her apart.”
“They were young girls, Heidi,” Smith said. “They were drunk and none of them deserved what you did to them.”
“I’d do it again if I had the time over again. I’d change nothing.”
Smith knew he was probably going to get into trouble for what he was about to do next, but he didn’t care. He didn’t think Heidi was going to change her story when she was inside an interview room and he needed to hear that story now.
“When did it start?” he asked. “When did you decide to kill them?”
“Not long after I first read Catherine’s diary,” Heidi said. “I wasn’t there for her when she was in hell, and I needed to make things right. You wouldn’t understand.”
This was an understatement. Smith didn’t understand at all.
“You came to see me shortly after Gemma London went missing,” he said. “Why did you do that?”
“I wanted you to find her,” Heidi said.
“That was important to you, wasn’t it? You needed us to see what you’d done.”
“Of course I needed you to see. I needed the whole world to see – to really see.”
“You took Casey Plant next,” Smith said. “Was the order of the abductions important?”
“No. Stacy had to be the last one, that’s all.”
“Because you think what happened to Ivy Grogan was Stacy’s fault?”
“I know it was her fault,” Heidi said. “It’s all in the diary.”
There were still a lot of questions Smith needed answers to.
“How did you manage to steal Dr Cooper’s car?”
“It wasn’t difficult. Greg and I had a thing for a while, and I knew about the holiday. I also knew where he kept the spare key to the car. I took it one night when I stayed over at his place.”
This was probably something they should have looked into, but they didn’t even consider a connection between The Optician and Dr Cooper.
“How did you get Dr Sweetman to go with you?” Smith asked. “I saw her get into the car, and she did it willingly.”
“Uber,” Heidi said. “She thought I was an Uber driver.”
“She got in even after I’d warned her about Uber drivers.”
“It was still when you were under the impression that the killer was a man. She saw me and didn’t hesitate.”
“It’s freezing,” Smith said. “Shall we go?”
“Don’t you want to hear the rest?”
“Not really,” Smith said.
He was feeling a bit ill already. He decided he would read the diary and wait until Heidi was formerly interviewed to see how the rest of the story played out.
He got to his feet and held out his hand.
“Come on.”
Heidi got up without his help.
“Are you going to handcuff me?”
“Do I need to?” Smith said.
“I like you,” Heidi said. “I liked you the moment I met you. You’re one of the good people on this planet, and there aren’t many of them left.”
Smith didn’t think the words of a psychopathic serial killer could really be considered a compliment, and he didn’t take them thus.
“There are police officers everywhere,” he told her. “If you try to run, you’ll be caught within seconds.”
“I’m not planning on running,” Heidi said. “I didn’t do this so I could run when it was finished. Surely, you can see that.”
CHAPTER SIXTY TWO
“Thank God that’s over and done with.”
Bridge sipped his coffee, and it was clear from his face that he would have preferred something a bit stronger.
