The Winter Killings, page 24
As she waited for it to brew, she stared out the kitchen window at the heavy snow and recalled building a snowman as a child with her father.
Whenever she stumbled on happier memories, she enjoyed spending time with them, so she did just that. She relived the moment they rolled its torso together, laughing as it grew. She recalled the moment they decorated its face with stones, and a spatula stolen from the kitchen—
‘Jess?’
Jess drew back from her memory and turned to see Laura in the kitchen doorway.
‘Sorry, I was just away with the fairies…’
‘I was just about to apologise for taking so long,’ Laura said. ‘But it was clear you hadn’t noticed, dear.’
‘No… I… that’s okay.’
Laura looked embarrassed. ‘I have to confess, Jess. Your father woke.’
‘Oh God, really?’ Jess said, she moved for the door. ‘Is he all right?’
Laura put a hand on Jess’s arm. ‘He’s fine. He’s asleep again. I merely stopped in to introduce myself. You know, he thought he recognised me at first.’
‘Strange… I guess. He gets confused. So confused.’
‘Anyway, I introduced myself, told him about how wonderful you are, Jess, and how he should be so proud of you, and off he went again. All calm now. Completely dead to the world. Didn’t look like he’d be waking again. Please, sit. I’ll carry the tea through.’
‘Thanks.’
Jess sat on the two-seater. She looked down at Laura’s bag sitting beside her and was just about to reach for it. The tea appeared over the back of the sofa.
‘Well,’ Laura said. ‘We really took our time. You with your daydream. Me with your father. The tea has gone rather lukewarm. Should I warm it?’
‘It’s okay for me,’ Jess said, taking the tea. She took a mouthful.
‘Then it’s okay for me, too.’
As Laura came around the side of the sofa, Jess finished the tea in several large mouthfuls and leaned to deposit it on the floor.
When she sat back up, she saw Laura was about to sit on the bag.
Jess reached for the strap and tugged; unfortunately, the bag itself slipped from the sofa, and the contents spilled out.
‘Sorry… sorry…’ Jess said, pushing herself from the sofa and falling to her knees. ‘Such an idiot… such an idiot.’ She stopped herself short of hitting her head, so she could reach for the contents of the bag—
Her breath caught in her throat.
Her car keys.
Then her mind flitted back to several days earlier, when Laura had offered to help carry some boxes into the storage room. Jess had been in the process of hanging shirts onto a rack. She’d told Laura that the key to the storage room was behind the counter.
Laura must have taken her car keys from her bag when she’d put the boxes into the storage room… but… but…
‘It makes no sense… no sense.’
‘Leave them… come and sit down, dear.’
Jess looked up at Laura. ‘Did you take my car keys?’
‘I did, yes. And a house key, too. Please come and sit.’ She patted the sofa. ‘I don’t want to lie to you any more. Sit and I’ll tell you everything.’
Jess stood. ‘Go away. Please go away. Now. Or I’m phoning the police. I’m an idiot… what have I done? What have I done? Who’ve I let into my house? Wait… my father… is he okay? What have you done to my father?’
‘Nigel Beaumont isn’t your father.’
‘I don’t understand… I don’t understand… I don’t understand…’ She repeated herself three times, something she did when under extreme stress.
‘But there’s no need to worry about him any longer… in fact, Jess… there’s no need to worry about much for too much longer. Things are just about finished.’
Now, she turned in a circle. Again, she couldn’t help herself. It was another reaction to stress. The need to turn. Spin as quickly as she could. Tear the poison from her mind with dizziness.
The world around her blurred.
When she got into this state, there was only one person who could pull her from it. Clutch her. Hold her tight and squeeze the poison, the stress, from her mind.
Her mother. ‘I need my mother. I need my mother. I need my mother.’
She fell back onto the sofa, her eyes squeezed shut.
‘I’m here, dear,’ Laura said. ‘I’m here.’
59
Gardner sat alone in her office, head in her hands, while Rice readied the incident room.
Her anger with him was thawing; he’d apologised twice on the way back. Apologising was quite a step for Rice; he was clearly contrite over his incompetence.
She stared down at her phone, willing it to ring. She was waiting for so many calls.
Would Ross find Cecile’s vehicle? Would Neville Fairweather call her back? Would Barnett strike gold on L. Wilson?
Not forgetting KYLO and all those bloody bigwigs!
Why were all those shareholders and leaders so bloody hard to get in touch with? Miranda hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that they were elusive. Right now, all of them were working outside of the country, and none of them were returning calls.
It was a pain in the arse going through Interpol to get law enforcement support internationally, but if she got to the end of the day and this operation was rumbling on, then that route would be a must.
There was a knock at her office door. She stood, half-expecting Marsh to swan in, with a frustrated expression on her face, declaring, ‘All of this from a bloody skull in a thespian’s treasure chest!’
But it wasn’t Marsh. It was Barnett, holding his notebook.
‘Okay… Laura Wilson is a registered nurse with training in midwifery,’ he began. ‘The number on the certificates is accurate.’ His emphasis was used to embarrass Rice.
You don’t need to bother, Ray. He’s embarrassed enough.
‘She worked at Helping Hands for that two-year period with James Sykes between 1989 and 1991. She left with him.’
Gardner recalled Col’s comments: There were rumours they were at it. Some of the other staff spotted them a few times… getting rather too close for comfort… if you get my meaning.
Is that why she helped him with his atrocities? Was he manipulating her?
‘Some background on Laura. Her mother died young and she was taken into care at eight, when her father died from his drinking and drug habit. With no other living relatives, she entered the system. Which served her reasonably well. She moved around between foster parents, but never caused a great deal of bother, and even gained training to become a nurse and midwife. After spending a year in the NHS, she took the job at Helping Hands when she was twenty-two. She was relieved of her position when KYLO took control of the facility just prior to its conversion to Bright Day. The reason cited was inappropriate relationships, and there’s a statement from her admitting to a long affair with James Sykes. She’d even admitted to sexual relations with him in the workplace itself!
‘I contacted the person who took his statement. Philomena West, who once worked for KYLO in the Human Resources department. She remembers the interview well. She said that Laura seemed rather weary, and forlorn, which is to be expected when losing your job, I suppose… but Philomena thought it strange how she remained defensive of Sykes even though the affair was over, and he’d cost Laura her job. Philomena said that Laura couldn’t drop that “doe-eyed, wistful look” that she associated with people in love, or obsessed, or… and these were the words she used… emotionally drained. You think Laura was helping Sykes abduct the babies?’
Gardner nodded. ‘Without doubt. I don’t think Sykes himself was inducing the births. Plus, someone had to tell the pregnant women that they’d lost their babies and that the birth needed inducing. Unlikely, they’d listen to Sykes on that one… however, enter the resident nurse trained in midwifery and it becomes an easier sell. Also, she’d have been knowledgeable about the pharmaceuticals required to keep the mothers out of their minds throughout the process.’ Gardner shook her head, nauseated. ‘I dread to think how these monsters sold their evil to these poor women when they came round…’ She stood, placed her hands on the table, still shaking her head. ‘Did they tell them that their children’s remains had been disposed of before they could say farewell to them? That they were too malformed for them to even hold?’
‘Surely not…’ Barnett said.
Gardner raised her head. ‘You think that evil has limits?’
He lowered his head.
Gardner stood up straight, feeling desperately guilty, having momentarily forgotten how personal all this was for Barnett. For what Amina Ndiaye had potentially gone through.
‘I’m sorry, Ray, I wasn’t thinking…’
‘It’s okay, boss…’ Barnett lifted his head. ‘No kid gloves. I’m focused. I won’t fold… I can’t fold. The truth is what Mum would’ve wanted.’
You shouldn’t be anywhere near this, Ray. Jesus, Emma, you shoot Phil down for his incompetence and then display a fair amount of it yourself. Hypocritical.
But when Barnett continued with his detailed findings, Gardner soon remembered why she was throwing caution to the wind.
‘We know Laura agreed to give her name and ID to the birth certificates for the fictional home births,’ Barnett said.
‘I expect that agreement was part of a healthy severance package after Robert came in to clean house?’ Gardner suggested.
Barnett nodded. ‘Sounds workable. Still, Laura was anything but healthy. She fell into a depression. A bad one. Her father’s demons became her own, it seemed. She abused drugs and alcohol and when she became broke, she ended up homeless.’
Gardner stood and paced, thinking out loud. ‘Maybe, once the cloud of manipulation rose, the horror of what she’d been part of must have hit her like a train?’
But was she being too kind to Laura Wilson here? Was she giving her excuses for her heinous behaviour?
Maybe she just got what she deserved?
Barnett looked at his notes. ‘No one hears from Laura again until 1995. Four years after sleeping rough, she rented a house in Leeds and took some nursing refresher courses.’
‘Moving from the streets to rented accommodation and study? Who funded that?’
‘She did.’
‘Wow, that was some skilful begging,’ Gardner snorted.
‘Maybe she had some of that money left from KYLO?’
‘After four years on the streets? Doubt it.’
‘Stolen?’ Barnett asked.
‘Carry on for a moment, Ray, and then I’ll tell you what I think.’
‘Intriguing! Laura hired herself out, freelance, to private companies that serviced the wealthy elderly in their homes,’ Barnett continued. ‘No marriages or children. She hasn’t worked in over ten years and, at fifty-six, is still too young to qualify for a state pension.’
‘And yet she still has money?’
‘She owns a property. An expensive one at that. Shall we take a drive out there?’
Gardner smiled. ‘Nice try, Ray. You’re still due one bollocking, and you’re officially off this case – so you’ll be staying here.’
Barnett looked disappointed, but he gave a brief nod of acceptance. ‘You were going to tell me what you think.’
‘Hear me out before you shake your head, Ray. Laura Wilson had no money, yes? Four years after being on the street, she comes back with enough to build a new life. I don’t think Laura ever built that new life. I think someone else built it in her place.’
Barnett didn’t unknot his brow. ‘So where’s Laura?’
‘Dead… she died in a hospital bed this morning.’
‘Died… when…’ Realisation opened his brow. ‘Elizabeth Sykes. She died this morning. I—’
‘According to the list we recovered, Elizabeth Sykes had a child stolen, too.’
Barnett rubbed his temples as he thought and then fixed Gardner with a stare. ‘Elizabeth Sykes. The woman that died this morning, never had a child.’
Gardner nodded. ‘Someone wants us to know that. The person who left that list. The person who put this whole thing in motion. I think that’s Elizabeth Sykes. Because Elizabeth Sykes was never lying in a hospital bed. If you need an identity… why not take the identity of the person who ruined your life? And why not kill her too? Just like you’d eventually kill your brother – the other person who ruined your life.’
Barnett was nodding now. He saw it too. ‘The house fire… Do you think Elizabeth somehow got Laura there, intending for her to die?’
‘Yes, I do… except, Laura didn’t die. With the state she was in, Elizabeth felt no need to finish her. She was probably happy to let her suffer.’
‘But Elizabeth would’ve killed her own parents in that fire, too… Really?’
Gardner nodded. ‘It’s the hardest part to get my head around, but listen, what if they knew? What if they were aware that Sykes had taken her child? What if they were in on it? For social workers, they retired into a big, lovely house, and seemed well-off at the end.’
‘I looked into their pensions. Wasn’t a king’s ransom. They retired early.’ Barnett said. ‘They’d have struggled to cover their lifestyle, especially with the mother’s health. I assume Sykes was giving them money?’
‘He most certainly was,’ Gardner said. ‘But would they have been oblivious to where it was all coming from? Maybe they didn’t ask questions? But if they did, and they knew, and they knew about Elizabeth, too, then we’ve a motive for her rage. For the fire. For the murders.’
‘I don’t know, boss…’
‘You need more,’ Gardner said. ‘Elizabeth was institutionalised for two years. Her treatment programme included lithium and ECT. This suggests complete mental instability. Also, who signed off on having her committed? All three of them. Mum, Dad and James. Think about that. It’d be hard not to feel betrayed. Also, how do we know the family didn’t push this to get her out of the way until she calmed down? Maybe she’d discovered what was going on?’
‘It’s all very messy,’ Barnett said.
‘Yes… precisely… far too messy… which is why you need someone to put it all together. Seems Elizabeth Sykes has taken it onto herself to do just that. Why else has this all suddenly exploded again?’
‘But wouldn’t she set out to find her child?’
‘Maybe she did. Maybe she has. Everything would’ve been easier with a new identity, a nurse’s qualification and some money in the bank.’
‘Money in the bank… wait… James Sykes. He must have earned a fortune. No doubt, KYLO probably clawed some back, but let him keep some for his eternal silence. Yet… he ends up a factory worker for the rest of his days? Why? Why did he not seek a Caribbean island? Because she stole that money from her brother before she burned the house?’
Gardner nodded.
‘But why didn’t she burn him, too?’
‘Maybe she needed him alive because he knew where her child was… Perhaps he was just out? If she’d killed him the next day, after the house fire, imagine the questions that would be asked. The links that could be made?’
Barnett shook his head. ‘It’s such a long time ago now, though. If it’s Elizabeth, why wait almost thirty years for revenge?’
‘Patience? Fear of KYLO closing ranks if she chased them immediately? Pushing the truth even further into the darkness? No, letting everything return to the status quo, over time, would’ve helped.’
‘But thirty years?’
‘I know… I get that… Seems so long. It may have taken that long for her to untangle it all. Elizabeth vs KYLO? Wouldn’t be an overnight fix. I suspect she needed to find out who her child was first.’
Barnett said, ‘But how do we verify or prove any of this until someone starts answering questions?’
‘Agreed… so give me her address, and I’ll go and ask them.’
60
1993
Elizabeth watched her alarm clock until the LED display switched to 01.00.
Suitably wired on Pro Plus, she rose from her bed.
Her parents would be asleep now, and her brother was at his girlfriend’s, so she moved through the house, removing the batteries from the fire alarms and the carbon monoxide detectors.
In the kitchen, she prepared a warm meal, and a hot drink, which she set at the dinner table. She sprinkled the contents of several sleeping pills, taken from her dying mother’s supply, into some soup.
After checking the time again, she went to the front door to wait for Laura.
It’d be a disaster if anyone saw her lingering around outside.
As she waited, she thought of all those years as a child in which she’d admired Laura Wilson.
Despite being underweight, and quietly spoken, rather like herself, Laura had carried herself with great poise. Some saw it as a stern, almost aggressive demeanour, but Elizabeth believed it to be a steely determination in a man’s world.
Laura had been broken by her involvement. She’d spiralled into addiction, and eventual homelessness. Not that Elizabeth felt any sympathy.
After being released from her institution last week, Elizabeth had located her, sleeping rough in Leeds City Centre. Elizabeth had paid for some accommodation and food for several evenings.
Laura, wracked with guilt, had confessed all, in detail, to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth had nodded sympathetically to coax everything from Laura, but inside, her heart was in flames. It was then, at that moment, she wanted Laura to experience, like her, how it felt to truly burn.
You should have known better, Laura. You were orphaned, bounced between foster homes… yet, even with nothing, you carved out chances…
The world gave you hope, Laura, and how did you repay it?
By destroying the lives of others. Lives that shared similarities with yours.
