Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (107 page)

“What? Are you telling me he killed Blackie?” Ami asked before her mouth fell open.

Fiona could have kicked herself for her stupid slip of the tongue. “Lorne and I were desperate to keep that from you and Linda.”

Anger replaced Ami’s shock. “You don’t have to explain, Fiona. Despite what he’s done, he didn’t deserve to die. You scared me. It was as if you had become possessed by the devil. He didn’t deserve that, Fi. However much a bastard he was, he didn’t deserve to die,” she stated, her voice quivering.

“I know. I’ll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life. What I won’t be able to live with is your and Linda’s unwillingness to forgive me.”

Before Ami could respond, Linda came bounding into the room. Breathlessly she told them, “In the back bedroom there’s a rug. Can one of you help me bring it down?”

Ami left the room before Fiona answered. Linda ran after her, leaving Fiona alone with Gibson’s tortured body and the unsatisfactory feeling that she’d damaged not one, but two relationships, because of her over-the-top actions.

Still, she couldn’t worry about that now. She had to come up with an idea where to dump the body. A passing thought told her that it would be best to cut Gibson to pieces and scatter his remains around London, but she knew she wouldn’t have the stomach or courage to do that.

When the girls returned carrying an eight-foot rug, Fiona untied Gibson’s hands. His body immediately slumped forward and toppled off the chair onto the floor. The girls screamed before Fiona ordered them to be quiet. “Help me get him on the rug.”

The three of them, positioned Gibson’s body at one end and rolled the rug towards the other end.

Fiona handed Ami her car keys. “Bring the car to the front of the house and open the boot. As soon as you pull up, we’ll bring him out.”

Ami left the room.

Linda asked, “What are we going to do with him?”

“I’ve been trying to think of somewhere we can dump the body. The last thing we want is someone to discover it. Any ideas? What about an empty house out in the country or something? Do you have anything like that on your books?”

Linda contemplated the question for several seconds before she clicked her fingers together. “I’ve got it. Last week, we were instructed to sell a vacant farm. The family put it on the books at an extortionate price. I doubt they’ll be selling it any time soon. It comes with six hundred acres of land. What if we bury him there?”

“That’s a great idea. Is it very far?” Fiona tried to remember if she had a shovel in the back of her car. Her father had told her years ago to always carry one in case she had the misfortune to get snowed in anywhere.

“On the outskirts of the city. About twenty to twenty-five minutes, I suppose.”

“Perfect. I think I have a shovel in the car. We could take it in turns digging, if you’re up to it?”

A car door slammed.

Linda went over to the window. “Here’s Ami now.”

“Right. Grab that end. Oh, and sis—I love you, and I’m sorry.” Fiona’s eyes welled up with tears.

“I know you do, Fiona. We’ll get through this together. Come on.”

They heaved the rug off the floor and struggled through the house to the front door. Ami supported the rug in the middle. It took several attempts to wedge the body into the medium-sized boot, but finally Gibson’s body was tucked up and secure.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Lorne pulled the car into the curb and put her hazard lights on. “Anything, Katy?”

“Nothing, as far as I can see. How far away are you?”

“I estimate about two or three minutes. Wait outside for me.”

“Will do. I’ll take a quick look round the back—see if I can find anything round there, first. See you soon.”

Lorne hung up. “Not sure whether we have the right location or not. Katy’s there now, and all is quiet. We’ll take a look ourselves and then decide what to do next.”

Carol nodded and seemed to go off into one of her meditative zones.

A few minutes later, Lorne drew up outside the Georgian mansion with the for sale sign outside. “Do you want to come, see if you can pick up any vibes or anything?”

“I’ll do my best.”

The second they got out of the car, Katy, carrying a torch, came around the corner to meet them. She greeted Lorne with a smile and a slight shrug. “Can’t see a thing round the back.”

Carol breezed past Lorne and Katy in a daze. She peered through the window at the front of the house and called out, “Here. They were here.”

Both Lorne and Katy rushed to her side and looked through the paned window at the empty room beyond. Well, almost empty. “How can you tell, Carol?”

She pointed at the chair in the middle of the room. “In my vision, that’s where Gibson was tied up.”

“Really? If that’s the case, where is he now?” Lorne asked mystified.

“I have no idea. Everything comes to an abrupt halt at this house,” Carol said sadly.

“Please try, Carol. It’s important we find them.”

Katy tried the front door. It was locked. “How should we play it? Should I call it in? Without proof of a body, I’ll be a laughing stock if nothing is found at the scene.”

“I understand, Katy. Let’s see if we can gain access to the house first, and then go from there.”

They split up and tried the windows without success.

In the end, curiosity outweighed their sense of right and wrong. Katy picked up a small rock she’d found lying amongst the roses in the front garden. She tapped at the corner of the window with a pointed edge of the stone, and the windowpane shattered.

Lorne took her coat off and bashed at the glass, then she put her hand through and felt around for the window catch. She released it, and they hoisted the sash-window up.

Lorne turned to Carol. “Stay here and keep lookout. Call us if anyone comes.”

“Be careful,” Carol warned as first Katy then Lorne went through the opening.

Katy turned on her torch and scanned the room as the pair of them walked over to the chair. The beam from the torch highlighted the blood pooling on the floorboards behind the chair. Lorne saw something else glisten to the side of the blood and pointed to the spot she wanted Katy to shine the light.

“Is that vomit?” Katy asked, screwing her nose up.

“Looks like it—or a small amount of bile, at least. I think we have the right location. The question is, what do we do about it?”

“Have you tried contacting the girls?”

Lorne nodded. “No reply. All calls go directly to voicemail.”

“Okay, what about if you call their bluff? Tell them you know what’s happened and urge them to do the right thing?”

Lorne pulled her mobile out of her pocket and dialled Fiona’s number. It immediately went into voicemail. Lorne spoke calmly, “Fiona, it’s Lorne. We know what you’ve done. Ring me ASAP to discuss the issue.” Her mouth twisted as she hung up. “Not sure that’s going to help any. What do you think about taking a ride out to the girls’ flat?”

“Fine by me,” Katy replied, already turning to leave the house.

“Katy, what about this?” Lorne pointed back into the room.

“Let’s see what the girls have to say and then decide. If I had my way, I’d be willing to brush this incident under the carpet. As far as I’m concerned, he got what was coming to him—if he’s dead.”

Lorne attributed Katy’s coldness to her own unscrupulous ex-boyfriend who had constantly knocked seven bells out of her. Brushing the idea aside was something that had crossed Lorne’s mind; she just hadn’t had the nerve to voice her opinion out loud.

The more she thought about it, the more the idea appealed to her. At the end of the day, the only people who knew about this incident were people she knew and felt she could trust.

The three of them drove to the girls’ flat. Carol stayed in Lorne’s car while Lorne and Katy walked down the street to the girls’ flat, which unsurprisingly was in darkness. “My guess is that no one is home,” Katy said.

“Hmm… You could be right there. We’ll give it a try anyway.”

Their first observation proved to be correct. Lorne kicked out at a nearby stone. “Nothing else we can do but call it a day.”

“I could see if the station can locate their vehicle,” Katy said, looking equally disappointed.

“That would only draw attention to them. I think we should go home and see if Fiona has the guts to contact me. Thanks for taking the trouble to come out, Katy.”

“No bother. Let me know either way. See you soon.”

Lorne drove Carol back to her house, and then, deep in thought, she drove home.

Tony was waiting anxiously at the door to meet her. “Any news?”

“Nothing. Something happened at the house we located. What that was, I have no idea. I tried calling Fiona but have yet to receive an answer. I don’t suppose she’s called here while I’ve been out?”

“Sorry, love, no. I’m sure she’ll be in touch when the time is right.” He hooked an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into the house.

#

It was several days before Fiona finally plucked up the courage to contact Lorne.

“Hi, Lorne. It’s Fiona.”

“You took your time getting back to me. How are things?”

“Sorry, I’ve been out of town on business. The girls and I are bearing up. How are things there?”

“Cut the crap, Fiona. What have you been up to?”

Fiona cringed at Lorne’s angry tone. “In what respect?”

“I’d advise you to stop messing with me, unless you plan on spending the next twenty years in prison. All of you.”

Panic set in, and Fiona tried to bluff her way out of the situation. “Not sure what you’re getting at, Lorne. Things have been a tad hectic at work since the trial.”

“Here’s another word of advice for you, Fiona: Never kid a kidder. Oh, and just in case you hadn’t heard the latest news, our friendly rapist has gone missing. You know his parents won’t stop looking for him until he’s found, don’t you?”

Fiona was glad that Lorne’s anger had dissipated, but her warning didn’t go unheard. She felt safe in the knowledge that where Gibson had been laid to rest, he would never be found.

“He has? Let’s keep our fingers crossed that he’s gone for good, then.”

“I hope, for your sakes, that you’re right.”

“Thanks for your support, Lorne. We’ll be in touch should we need your investigative skills in the future. I’ll also be glad to recommend your services—both the rescue centre and the PI business—to my friends and associates.”

“Thank you. That means a lot. Look after Linda. And Fiona…”

“Yes.”

“My door is always open, should you need a chat to unburden at any time.”

“You’ve been a wonderful friend, Lorne. We’ll be in touch if we need to. Good luck to you for the future. I hope your businesses go from strength to strength,” Fiona said, and she meant it.

#

A month later, Lorne, Tony, and Lorne’s fully recovered father were sitting at the breakfast table, going through the papers.

“Hmm… This is interesting,” her father said before he read out the article that had caught his attention: “The search goes on for the missing stockbroker Graham Gibson, last seen around five weeks ago. We managed to track down the last person to see him, a Ms Linda Carter. She told us that in her role as an estate agent, she showed Mr. Gibson around a vacant property. He seemed excited at the prospect of owning the beautiful Georgian mansion and had promised to meet her at the estate agency the following day to sign the necessary paperwork. Unfortunately, he neglected to show up.

“Meanwhile, Mr. Gibson’s car was found abandoned in the car park at Paddington Station. Lead detective in the case DS Katy Foster told us that it looked likely that Mr. Gibson had gone missing intentionally. Maybe life had become too stressful for the high-flyer, and he’d thrown the towel in and walked away from his life as he knew it. ‘It’s not uncommon. We hear of these sort of cases happening more and more frequently. Mr. Gibson will remain on the missing list indefinitely.”

“Good riddance, I say,” her father said as he lowered his hand to stroke Henry, who was sitting alongside him. “After the cowardly way he came after you in that car park, he deserves what he got.”

“To be honest, Dad, I couldn’t care less what he did to me—or tried to do to me. What matters are the lives he ruined and tried to ruin.”

“You mean Blackie?” Tony asked, reaching across the table for her hand.

“Yeah, and the girls, of course.”

Tony squeezed her hand. “It’s funny how his body has never turned up though, isn’t it?”

“Maybe the girls carried out the perfect crime after all, huh?” Lorne winked at her father as her mind retraced the events of that night again. She had gone back to the house and cleaned up Gibson’s blood from the floor with some of the disinfectant she used to clean out the kennels. Katy had set up a priority search to locate Gibson’s car. A patrol car spotted it a couple of days later at the station. The case had then become one of a missing person.

Returning a wink, her father replied, “With a little help from their friends.”

The three of them raised their mugs of coffee and clinked them together.

Smiling, Lorne said, “To friends and family.”