Foul Justice (10 page)

She could tell this was his idea of testing her, to see if she was up to the task in hand. “I have a theory. I suspect it’s some kind of copycat case, but Dad doesn’t agree.”

If she’d been talking to anyone else, her father’s name wouldn’t have been mentioned, but Sean and Sam Collins went back a long way. His advice had been instrumental in solving the case when Baldwin had kidnapped her daughter Charlie.

“Why doesn’t Sam agree?” Sean asked, looking puzzled.

“He has a point, I guess, but he reckons it can’t be a copycat case because it hasn’t appeared in the media yet.”

“What hasn’t? I’m not with you.”

“And you thought I would be the rusty one? Hmm…‌The
case
hasn’t appeared in the papers. So how could another gang copy it?”

“Ah, I see. Well I’m inclined to agree with him. Did your father have any ideas?”

“He’s thinking about it. You know what he’s like. He’ll plot it out methodically, as he usually does, leaving me to get on with the nitty-gritty of the case. I’ll give him a ring tonight and see if he’s come up with anything. In the meantime, I’m going to go over the files we brought back from the security firm, see if anything comes to light. You know Trisha Dobbs came out of her coma, don’t you?”

“Why do you say it like that? Surely it’s a good thing that she’s regained consciousness, isn’t it?”

Lorne sighed and crossed one leg over the other. “It would be if she could remember anything about that night. Mr. Dobbs is dreading telling his wife their kids were killed.”

“I can totally understand his apprehension. Let’s hope she successfully regains her memory.”

“I’ll second that. I’m going to call in on Sandra Kelly on the way to Katy’s place later, see if there’s any change there.”

“Right, I better let you get on, then. Keep me informed.”

Lorne stood up and walked toward the door but paused when she heard him say. “I knew I did the right thing asking you to come back.”

Under her breath, she replied, “That remains to be seen. I haven’t cracked the case yet.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

L
orne and Katy ended
their shift at six thirty p.m. and drove to the hospital to check on both the injured wives. Lorne thought it would be silly to drive all that way without checking how both of them were progressing.

Standing outside Sandra Kelly’s room, the detectives heard sobbing and raised voices coming from inside the private ward. Lorne knocked and waited. She knocked a second time and eased the door open a little. “All right if we come in?”

Les Kelly stood over by the window, looking out at the car park below, and his wife sat up in bed, sobbing uncontrollably. Sniffling, she reached over and plucked a tissue from the square box on the bedside table. She delicately blew her nose and dried her eyes before asking, “Who are you?”

Her husband left the window and sat in the chair beside her. “This is the detective in charge of the case, Sandy.”

Her eyes screwed up, and on another sob, she snapped at Lorne, “Have you caught the bastards who killed my son yet? The ones who did this to me?” Her voice rose into a screech.

Lorne approached the side of the bed and stroked the women’s arm. She didn’t blame her for lashing out. She would’ve done the same thing, given the circumstances. “We’re doing our best, Mrs. Kelly. Are you up to answering any questions?”

The woman’s sobs were punctuated by heavy intakes of breath. “Yes, I suppose so…‌But it won’t bring my baby back, will it?” As soon as she mentioned the word
baby,
tears started to fill and spill from her already red raw eyes.

“I understand your grief, but anything you can tell us about what happened will help us track down the intruders much quicker. We might even be able to prevent it from happening to another family.”

Sandra Kelly whipped another tissue from the box and dabbed her eyes dry. Then she pointed to her bandaged head. “As you can see, they pummelled me in the head a few times. It’s hard to remember everything.”

“I’m sorry. Anything, anything at all, you can think of. For instance, how many men were there, can you remember that?” Lorne asked gently.

The woman was quiet for a few moments. Lorne could tell she was finding it extremely difficult to search her damaged mind. Suddenly, it was like a light bulb had gone off in Sandra’s head. Had Lorne’s question sparked a memory?

“I remember. There were three of them. I don’t think they mentioned anyone outside, but I might be wrong.”

“That’s brilliant, Sandra. Do you have any idea how long they were with you?” Lorne patted the women’s arm, encouraging her to dig deeper into her confused and battered mind.

“I don’t know. It seemed like hours, but I can’t say for sure.”

Desperate to keep the woman’s train of thought on the night in question, she asked, “Can you tell me what the men looked like? Young, middle-aged?”

Sandra shook her head and a pained expression wiped away the hopeful one that had settled on her face moments earlier.

“I’m sorry, their faces are blurred. I was so scared for my baby…” She broke down again, and Lorne looked at Les to comfort her.

“No problem, Mrs. Kelly. Just concentrate on getting yourself better, and give me a call if you remember anything, no matter how insignificant it may seem.”

Les smiled and nodded, then gathered his wife in his tattooed arms.

Outside the room, Lorne turned to Katy, whose makeup was starting to wear off. “One step forward and two steps backwards, as usual. We’ll just pop in to see the Dobbses, then call it a day. How are you holding up?”

“Me? I’m fine. Dying for a glass of wine, though.”

Lorne smiled and nodded as they walked up the stairs to the floor above. When they arrived at Mrs. Dobbs’ room, all was quiet. Lorne tapped on the door, and it was instantly opened by the patient’s husband, Dave.

“Inspector, any news?” His eyes widened in expectation.

Shaking her head, she told him, “Sorry, not yet. I don’t suppose your wife’s condition has improved, has it?”

“Nope, she can’t remember a thing. Not about the incident or our children’s deaths.” Tears glistened in his eyes, and his head dropped to his chest.

Lorne knew she could offer him a teeny bit of hope, so she filled him in on the snippet of information Mrs. Kelly had just divulged to them and left.

Next stop was Katy’s flat, which turned out to be less than half an hour away from Lorne’s house in Highbury. They pulled up outside the terraced Victorian house that had a tiny front garden and two front doors in the porch. Katy inserted her key in the red door on the right. Lorne saw her take a few deep breaths and jabbed her gently in the ribs.

“Be strong. I’m here with you. Just remember that.”

Katy nodded and entered the front door, with Lorne, acting as reinforcement, close behind her. They could hear music, louder than Lorne would allow her teenage daughter to have on in her house, coming from the room off to the right.

Pointing at the door, Katy mouthed, “Darren’s in there.”

Just then, as if he’d heard her, the door flew open. A fair-haired man in his early twenties, sporting a snarl, stood in the doorway to what appeared to be the lounge.

“So you’re home, are you?” He glared at Lorne and eyed her up and down. “And who’s this?”

“Darren, this is my new partner, DI Lorne Simpkins. I’m going to be staying with her for a day or two.” Katy’s voice trembled slightly.

Lorne challenged the young man with a well-practiced glare of her own. His head turned sharply at Katy, and he took a step toward her. Katy shrunk back from him, and Lorne’s fists clenched down by her side. She would bide her time. She knew better than to dive in feet first.

“Go pack your bag, Katy, while Darren and I have a little chat.”

“She’s not going anywhere. Get my dinner on,” he ordered. Again he took another step closer to Katy, but that time Lorne leapt in front of him to block his way.

“Go on, Katy. Why don’t we sit down, Darren?” Lorne pushed her way past him, nudging his shoulder with hers as she walked into the lounge.

 She heard Katy’s footsteps sound in the hallway and Darren grunt when he followed Lorne back into the room.
Phew.
She let out a relieved sigh. Step one had worked. All she had to do was keep his attention for the next ten or fifteen minutes.

“When did you arrive, Darren?”

He grunted again then mumbled, “Yesterday.”

Great. Arrives one day and knocks his girlfriend around the minute he lays eyes on her. Nice chap.

“Settling in all right, are you?” Lorne asked as she surveyed the room. Her immediate reaction was that the flat had a fully furnished agreement. She couldn’t see Katy owning all the antiquated furnishings. The room was also in desperate need of decoration. Below the picture rail, the bold patterned wallpaper had started to peel away.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. In front of the ’80s-looking gas fire was a poor excuse of a rug. It was mostly threadbare and was missing its fringe here and there.

The two-seater sofa’s wooden arms were in need of a good polish, and the beige dralon cover looked as if it had never been cleaned. Lorne almost heaved when she saw the amount of stains on it. She shuddered involuntarily. Along one wall was a G-Plan wall-unit similar to the one her parents had throughout her childhood that had ultimately ended up at the tip over twenty years ago.

The man threw himself into the sofa and pointed to the mismatching red-winged easy chair in the corner. “Not really.”

“Have you found a job?” Lorne perched herself on the very edge of the chair, hoping she didn’t take any of its inhabitants home on the back of her coat.

Curling his lip, he responded, “What the fuck is this, University Challenge? I know you’re the old bill, but you can cut the crap with me, lady.”

“Why the anger?” Lorne recognised the signs: He was bored, just like Tom had been bored during their marriage. That was why and when her own domestic violence experience had begun. Once Charlie was at secondary school, Tom had tried for years to find a job in the motor trade he’d left to bring up their daughter. It had been a joint decision for him to become a house husband, purely for financial reasons, as her salary was a few grand more than his.

He kicked at the tassels on the edge of the rug. “Who said I’m angry?”

“You mean a calm person would lash out the way you did with Katy?”

His face showed the tiniest glimmer of remorse, but it instantly disappeared when they heard a drawer slam shut in the bedroom. He jumped out of his chair. Lorne was quicker than him and blocked his path again. “Let her come home with me, Darren. Just for a few days, eh?”

He swept his hand through his hair and looked her in the eye. “But I love her. I need her here with me. You don’t know what it’s like to be cooped up here all day.”

Christ, he’s been by himself one day, and he’s bored already!

Lorne’s compassionate side came to the fore. “Why don’t you go back up north for a few days? Visit your parents or your mates.”

“My parents are
dead
.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Why don’t you stay with friends for a week or so then? It’s bound to be tough at the moment for both of you. It’s hard for Katy. She’s moved areas, workplaces, and had to deal with moving house at the same time. That’s three of the most stressful events a person has to deal with in their lifetime, and she’s had to do it all within a few days. Plus, she’s bound to be worried about you, too. Go back up north, take a break, and come home again when things have settled down, eh?” She watched his mouth move from side to side and his shoulders relax a little as he thought over her proposal.

That was before Katy appeared with her overnight bag. He stormed over, snatched the bag from her hand and threw it back out into the hallway. Katy looked at Lorne with pure fear in her eyes.

Lorne realised she’d have to start issuing him a warning. She yanked his arm and turned him to face her. “Calm down, Darren. We’re going to leave now. Do as I suggest, and go away for a few days.”

If she didn’t know any better, she could’ve sworn she saw steam coming out of his ears and nostrils like a raging bull.

“She’s not going anywhere,
lady
. Now get the fuck out of my flat.”

They held each other’s stare for a few seconds before Lorne attempted to make him see reason again. “Last chance, Darren. Katy, go wait in the car.”

Katy turned toward the front door, but Darren was quick. He jumped on her back and forced her to the ground. Lorne reached into her handbag to retrieve her cuffs. With her knee in his back, she cuffed one arm and grabbed at his other, which was flailing around. All three of them were either screaming or shouting to be heard.

“You’re not doing yourself any favours, Darren. Give it up now, and Katy won’t press charges. If you don’t, she’ll be forced to file a complaint for GBH.”

That grabbed his attention. The hallway fell silent. Darren pushed down on Katy and used her body as leverage to stand up. Standing virtually with his nose against Lorne’s, he eyed the cuff on his left wrist. “Okay, you win. Get it off me.”

“I’ll take this off once Katy is in the car.”

Katy got to her feet, picked up her bag and apologized to Darren before she went out into the street. Lorne heard the car door slam before she undid the cuffs.

“What a lovely girl she is. You don’t deserve her. Why the hell she felt the need to apologise to you, I’ll never know. If I ever hear you’ve laid a hand on her again, I’ll haul your arse in a cell quicker than you can say ‘I want my solicitor.’ You hear me?”

He nodded, and anger pulled his mouth into a taut line.

“Good. If Katy wants to come home, I’ll bring her back in a few days. I did say
if
.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T
he car on the
drive back was filled with deep sighs and heavy breathing but no talking. Lorne had called ahead and ordered Chinese from her favourite take-away and had just pulled up to collect it. There was no need to stop at the off-licence, as she had a couple of bottles of untouched Chardonnay in the fridge at home.