Silent Scream: An edge of your seat serial killer thriller (Detective Kim Stone crime thriller series Book 1) (23 page)

B
ryant wound
the car through the maze of small streets to the triangle of high-rise buildings at the centre. The estate comprised a total of 540 dwellings with two key gangs responsible for instilling the required level of fear into the residents.

The ‘Deltas’ were a group of young men who hailed from the Dudley postcode. The 'Bee Boys' were from two streets over, where the Sandwell postcode began.

Bryant parked the car next to the playground. Although the area held a swing set, a see-saw and a few benches, the park had not seen a child in decades. It was known as ‘The Pit’ and it was where representatives from each group met and settled ‘business’. To Kim’s knowledge three bodies had been found in The Pit in the last two years and there had been no witness to any one of them.

By Kim’s count, almost seventy properties had a direct view of the area and still no one saw a thing.

Their access into Swallow Court was unfettered. Police presence, although unwanted, was not restricted. The community was closed off from the outside world and crimes that took place within the enclave were resolved in the enclave. Gang leaders were safe in the knowledge that any ordinary citizens would never speak openly to police.

‘Oh Lordy,’ Bryant offered, placing a hand over his nose. Kim had taken a good deep breath before entering the middle block. The foyer was dark and smelled of urine. The area was small and windowless. Two blown bulbs had not been replaced and the only source of illumination was one square ceiling grid shielding a yellowed strip light.

‘What floor?’ Kim asked.

‘Seven. Stairs?’

Kim nodded and headed to the foot of the stairwell. The lifts in these blocks were notoriously faulty and if they got stuck between floors it was unlikely anyone was coming to help.

Knackered or left for dead? It was an easy choice.

By the third floor Bryant had counted seven syringes, three broken beer bottles and two used condoms.

‘Now, who said romance is dead?’ he asked as they entered the lobby on the seventh floor. ‘Right there, Guv,’ Bryant said, pointing to flat 28C.

A fist mark was evident in the middle of a door that was opened by a girl Kim guessed to be three or four. She didn’t smile or speak and sucked juice from a baby bottle.

‘Rhianna, ger away from the fucking door,’ called a female voice.

Bryant stepped forward, moving the child out of his way. Kim stepped around her and closed the door.

‘Excuse me,’ Bryant called as they stood in the dingy corridor. ‘Police ... can we ...’

‘What the hell ...’ they heard amidst a commotion of activity.

‘Already smelled it,’ Kim called, walking past Bryant into the lounge. The curtains were closed but didn’t quite meet in the middle.

A girl with hoop earrings and a pasty expression stood and wafted the air with her hands. The atmosphere was thick with the smell of weed.

‘What the fuck yer doin in ‘ere? Yo ‘ain't got no right ...’

‘Rhianna invited us in,’ Kim said, almost tripping over a rocker holding a newborn. ‘We’re here to see Brian Harris.’

‘It’s me dad. He’s abed.’

It was after eleven thirty.

‘So, you’re Melanie’s sister?’ Bryant asked.

‘Who?’ she asked, with a sneer.

Kim heard a door open down the corridor. A half-dressed male headed towards them, raging. ‘What the fuckin’ hell yo doin?’

‘Mr Harris,’ Bryant said, affably, standing in front of her. He held up his warrant card and introduced them both. ‘We’re just here to talk to you about Melanie.’

He stopped short and frowned.

Kim was beginning to think they were at the wrong address. But Melanie had clearly inherited her height from her father. He stood over six feet tall. Every one of his ribs was evident and the waistband of his jeans rested around his skinny hips. His scrawny arms were busy with DIY tattoos.

‘What’s the little bitch done now?’ he said, looking over the back of the sofa. Kim followed his gaze. A dark brown Staffordshire bull terrier lay panting in a cage meant for a large Yorkie. Its teats were distended and red. A cardboard box next to the cage held four puppies snuggled close together. Kim couldn’t tell if the eyes on the puppies were yet open but they’d been removed from the bitch for a reason.

A puppy separated from its mother too soon would suffer behavioural problems later on; problems that could be exploited as a status symbol for The Deltas.

Kim looked into the eyes of the older dog who would be bred again at the earliest opportunity.

She looked at Bryant whose gaze also rested on the dogs. They exchanged a glance.

‘Whatever that girl’s done is fuck all to do with me. I gid ‘er away years ago.’

The baby beneath them started to cry.

The female sat down and placed her right foot on the back of the rocker. She took out a iPhone and began texting with one hand.

Brian Harris sat beside his daughter. He nudged her, hard.

‘Put kettle on, Tina.’

‘Do it yerself, yer lazy bastard.’

‘Do it or sling yer hook and tek yer damn kids with yer.’

Tina offered him a filthy look but headed into the kitchen. Rhianna followed closely behind.

Harris leaned forward and lit a cigarette, blowing smoke all over the baby’s head.

Bryant forced calm into his voice as he took a seat on the sofa opposite. Kim remained standing.

‘Can you tell us the last time you saw your daughter, Mr Harris?’

He shrugged. ‘Couldn’t say exactly. She was a kid.’

‘How old was she when you gave her away?’ Kim asked.

Brian Harris showed no emotion at the dig. ‘I cor remember, it's been a while.’

‘Was she a troubled child?’

‘Nah, she just ate a lot. Gutsy little cow,’ he said, smiling at his own humour.

Neither Bryant nor she said a word.

‘Look, I had two kids to tek care of when their slag of a mother walked out and I did the best I could.’

He shrugged as though his ‘Father of the Year’ title was just around the corner.

‘So, she was just the unlucky one?’ Kim asked.

He scrunched up his face showing a row of yellowed teeth. ‘She was a funny looking kid. All legs and no meat. She weren't no oil painting.’

Bryant sat forward. ‘Did you visit her at all once she’d been placed into care?’

He shook his head. ‘Woulda just made it harder for ‘er. Had to make a clean break. Don't even know where they shoved her. It mighta bin that place being dug up,’ he said, drawing on his cigarette.

‘And you didn’t think to contact police to see if one of the victims at Crestwood might be your daughter?’ Kim asked, exasperated. One shred of emotion would have restored her faith in mankind.

He sat forward. ‘Is Melanie one of the dead ‘uns?’

Finally, Kim thought, a flicker of interest in the wellbeing of the daughter he abandoned fifteen years ago.

His expression turned to a frown. ‘It ain't gonna cost me anything, is it?’

Kim clenched her hands deep into her pockets. There were times she wished she could lock them in there for her own sake.

Tina returned and handed her father a steaming drink. With the look on her face Kim wouldn’t trust anything in that mug.

‘Mr Harris, we are sorry to inform you that pending a formal identification we do suspect that Melanie is one of the girls recently discovered.’

Brian Harris attempted to look solemn but the selfishness in his eyes won through. ‘See, I gid her up years agoo so it ain't really nothing to do with me.’

Kim watched as Rhianna walked around the sofa to the cage. She put her fingers through the bars and began pulling on the jowl of the dog, who had nowhere to go. Kim moved sideways and nudged the child away with her right foot. The child moved towards the puppy box but Kim was saved from acting.

‘Tina, get her away from there.’

Tina growled again and stood. She reached for her daughter’s hand and led her to the bedroom. With the child out of the room, Kim could bear it no longer. She couldn’t use her fists but she had other tools available.

‘Mr Harris, I’d like to leave you with a picture in your head. A final memory, if you like. Your fifteen-year-old daughter was murdered horrifically. The bones in her foot were smashed so that she couldn’t run away while some sick bastard chopped off her head. She struggled and cried and possibly screamed out for you while the bastard hacked her into bits.’ Kim leaned down into the face of the disgusting excuse for a father. ‘And that information didn’t cost you a damn penny.’

She looked to Bryant. ‘We’re done.’

She stepped past him and headed to the door. Bryant followed but hesitated before closing the door behind them. ‘Wait here, I just wanna ask him one more thing.’

While she waited, Kim realised that hadn’t exactly been textbook practice for informing the family of the death of a loved one. But if she had detected just one ounce of love or attachment, even regret, she would have stuck to the rulebook. She decided that the other families would be notified by someone else. She didn’t trust herself to remain calm if she were faced with such familial indifference again.

The door to the flat opened again and Kim looked on in shock as her colleague exited the property.

‘Bryant, you really have got to be kidding me.’

‘
H
ere
, you carry the puppies and I’ll grab the mother.’

Bryant thrust the box into her arms. The four puppies started moving around and Kim could see that their eyes were open. Just.

‘How the hell ...’

‘Told him I’d be prepared to overlook the level of criminal activity in his residence on this occasion if he gave me the dogs.’ Bryant followed her down the staircase. ‘But I never said anything about social services.’

Kim hurried down the rest of the stairs and paused at the car. ‘Erm ... what now Doctor Doolittle?’

He placed the bitch onto the back seat of the car and the box right beside her. ‘You drive.’

‘To where?’ she asked, getting in the car.

‘Come on, Guv, you know where I live.’

‘Jesus,’ she exclaimed, putting the car into gear. She negotiated her way out of the estate and then managed to take a quick look behind. The bitch was peering over the top of the box. One of the puppies was straining to reach her nose.

‘Don’t you ever call me impulsive again, Bryant. What is your missus gonna say about this?’

He shrugged. ‘Tell me what choice I had.’

Kim said nothing. Much as they wished to, they knew they were incapable of saving the whole world – but sometimes you just had to deal with what was right in front of you.

Kim paused at a set of lights.

‘Guv, look,’ Bryant said.

Kim took another look behind. The bitch was licking at the puppy it could reach. The others were trying to claw at the side of the box.

Five minutes later, she pulled up outside his three-bed semi in Romsley.

He stepped out of the car. ‘Okay, if you get hold of ...’

‘No chance,’ Kim said. ‘You’re on your own with this one.’

‘Chicken,’ he said.

‘Damn right.’

Bryant grabbed the lead of the adult dog. She jumped out of the car of her own accord and stood still. Bryant put the box under his left arm and headed to his front door.

Kim said a silent prayer. Having seen Bryant’s missus in a bad mood she feared she might never see her colleague again. She’d give him ten minutes and then she'd be on her way.

She took out her mobile and placed a call to social services. She spoke for a few moments and ended the conversation. An ‘at risk’ call from a police officer galvanised an immediate response. A case worker would be knocking on the door within the hour. Kim suspected Tina was lost but Rhianna and the baby had a chance.

Bryant’s front door opened and he exited. She couldn’t be totally sure, but his limbs appeared to be intact.

‘Still married?’ she asked, moving over to the passenger seat.

‘Mum and pups are reunited on a blanket by the kitchen radiator. Chicken and rice is on the stove and the missus is on the internet looking up puppy care.’

‘You gonna keep them?’

He nodded. ‘For now, until they’re old enough.’

‘How’d you swing that?’

He shrugged. ‘Told her the truth, Guv,’ he said, simply.

Kim visualised the dogs in his home being fussed over and spoilt.

She shook her head with despair. ‘Okay, now drop me off at the station then get to the hospital. One of us needs to be there to question Croft if the opportunity arises.’

‘You not coming?’

Kim shook her head. ‘Probably not a good idea. It may be just paranoia on my part, but I don’t think Mrs Croft likes me all that much.’

T
he roar
of the Ninja died as Kim pulled onto the dirt track. She removed the helmet and placed it over the right handlebar.

She surveyed the site from the top of the hill. Site one and two had been handed back to the landscape and the utility tent had been removed. The heras fencing no longer lined the property and the press had left the area. The police guard was gone and a few bits of equipment were gathered in the top corner of the site. Once again, it was a piece of spare council land where the travelling fair rested annually to entertain the estate.

Only a few teddy bears and weather-beaten flowers left at the foot of the hill offered any hints to the events of the last few days.

This part of the investigation was over. The clues from the dead had been uncovered and now it was up to her and her team to fit it all together.

One day the names of these three girls would be plastered across a Wikipedia page. It would be a link from the main article depicting Black Country history. The triple murder would forever be a blemish on their heritage.

Readers would skate past the article describing the achievements of the Netherton chain makers who had forged the anchors and chains for the
Titanic
and the twenty Shire horses that had pulled the one hundred tonne load through the town.

The metalworking trade that dated back to the sixteenth century would be forgotten in the face of such a sensational headline.

It would not be a record of the area’s finer moments.

‘Thought that might be you, Guv,’ Dawson said, exiting the tent.

His eyes were being propped up by dark circles. His jeans were dirty and his jumper creased but his hours on site and the commitment to the case had earned him the right to look a little worn.

Kim wanted to compliment him on a job well done but somehow the words stuck in her throat. Normally the day after she gave him a pat on the back he found some new way to piss her off again.

‘Dawson, I’ve gotta say, you frustrate the bloody life out of me. You’re a damn good detective but sometimes you act like a three-year-old.’ She stopped. This wasn’t coming out quite how she’d intended. ‘Look, I know this week has been difficult for you but in spite of that you’ve been a bloody star.’

Dawson threw back his head and laughed. ‘Thanks, Guv. Coming from you, that means a lot.’

‘I mean it, Kev.’

Their eyes met. He knew it.

‘Listen, take tomorrow off. We’ve all worked eight days straight. Saturday morning we’ll spend a few hours over coffee and muffins, Bryant’s shout, analysing what we have, and make an action plan for next week.’

‘It’s been a week, Guv. You still framing me for it?’

She shook her head. ‘Nah, I’m thinking Bryant’s a better fit.’

She entered the last remaining tent to find Cerys alone at the fold-up table beside the grave.

‘Lost all your friends, Cerys?’ Kim asked.

Cerys turned and smiled. ‘My staff are at the hotel packing up to hit the road. It’s been a full-on week.’

Kim nodded her agreement. ‘And you?’

Cerys sighed deeply. ‘Not quite. This grave will be completed in a couple of hours. I don’t think there’s anything left to find. Our third victim was not buried as deep as the others but I like to be thorough.’

‘So, you’ll be leaving later?’ Kim asked.

Cerys shook her head. ‘No. I’ll be here completing the paperwork until quite late.’ She reached for a small Tupperware tub. ‘Beads again, but of course you already knew that. There were remnants of clothing attached to the body but Daniel has those back at the lab. The garment was too delicate to remove on site.’

‘Anything else?’

Cerys pointed to a corner of the grave about one foot square. Her face was drawn and weary. ‘Unless there is something of interest just there then I’m afraid not.’

‘Did you find a denture?’

Cerys frowned. ‘No. Should I have done?’

‘It’s the final form of identification I was looking for.’

‘It certainly hadn’t come free from the body, if it was in there at all.’

Damn, without that final piece she couldn’t be sure of the accuracy of Nicola’s identification.

Kim nodded her understanding and stepped out of the tent. She paused and stepped back in.

‘Cerys, are you okay?’

Cerys turned, either surprised by the question or the person asking. She smiled but it was forced and without warmth.

‘You know what, Kim, I honestly don't know. My body is filled with a rage that I just can't shake. See, I don't care what these girls did or didn't do. I only know that they were treated as less than human. They were tortured and put into the ground and left to rot and they were only fucking kids. I want to be there when you catch the bastard that did this. I want to do the exact same things to him and what's worrying is that I feel capable of inflicting the same cruelty.’

Kim watched as her body deflated. She sometimes forgot that Cerys had not worked many crime scenes and one as harrowing as this was one hell of an initiation.

The woman looked at her and shook her head. ‘How do you do it, Kim? How do you wake up to this every day without going out of your mind?’

Kim considered the question. ‘I build stuff. I take a heap of rust and dirt and I build it into something beautiful. I create something that balances the ugliness of what we do. It helps. But do you know what really makes a difference?’

‘What?’

‘The knowledge that I'll catch him.’

‘Do you think so?’

Kim smiled. ‘Oh yes, because my passion to do so far exceeds the energy he'll need to avoid me. I won't stop until he's punished for what he did. And, everything you've done here, every clue you've uncovered, every bone you've removed will help me do that. It's bloody hard, Cerys, but it's worth it.’

Cerys nodded and smiled. ‘I know and I believe you. You'll get him.’

‘Oh, I will. And when I do, I'll give him your regards.’

Silence settled between them. Kim had nothing more to ask of the woman who had worked tirelessly for days at great cost, both physically and emotionally.

Kim moved closer and offered her hand. Although the skin was rough in places the grip was gentle and warm.

‘Thank you for everything, Cerys, and have a safe journey home. I hope we meet again.’

Cerys smiled. ‘Same here, Detective.’

Kim nodded and left the tent.

She had a denture to find.