Silent Scream: An edge of your seat serial killer thriller (Detective Kim Stone crime thriller series Book 1) (26 page)

I
knew
I'd been right when I first saw her. Her diligence and tenacity had served her well. Perhaps too well.

Because it had brought her back to me.

I had initially thought that we would not meet but that was no longer the case.

My insurance, my clever misdirection, had not been enough. For some it would have been. But not for her.

Here she was, alone, late at night, gaining entry to an abandoned building, searching for answers. She would not rest until she had uncovered the secrets.

All of them.

It was only a matter of time before her methodical reasoning brought her to me. I couldn't take that chance.

Had she not been so clever I would have allowed her to live. People have to take responsibility for their own actions.

I remember when I was twelve in the lunch hall. Robbie had a chicken salad sandwich. It looked so much tastier than my ham and cheese. I asked him to trade and he laughed in my face.

A broken rib, a black eye and two fractured fingers later, I had the sandwich and it tasted good.

See, it needn't have happened. If he'd just traded, he would have been fine. I tried to explain this to the teachers but they couldn't understand. They all made excuses for my lack of remorse.

I wasn't troubled. I wasn't seeking attention. I was not acting up because my grandma had died.

I just wanted the sandwich.

It was a shame that the detective had to die. The presence of her keen mind and unerring drive would be missed but she had brought it on herself.

It wasn't my fault.

My only fault lay in the mistake I made some years before, but it was one that I hadn't made since.

But then, even the greatest minds occasionally made errors.

And as I watched her climb in through the fence, I realised that the detective had just made her last.

K
im’s feet
landed on the Formica worktop and the glass crunched like gravel beneath her boots. In the dark silence, the sound seemed deafening.

She eased herself down onto the ground and cast the torch around the kitchen. Nothing had changed in the few days since her last trespass and this wasn’t the area that held her interest.

Still, she paused for a moment, visualising the girls sneaking in when no one was around for a packet of crisps or a drink. How many times had Melanie wandered in and out of this room before she was so brutally beheaded?

Kim headed forward through the room and jumped when something settled on her face. She clawed at her cheeks, dislodging the soft fibres and raised the light to a head-shaped hole in a cobweb at the doorway. She shook her head and rubbed at her face and hair. A single thread tickled at her ear.

As she stepped from the hallway to the corridor a gust of wind howled from above, entering the building through the broken windows. A beam creaked above her head.

For a second, Kim questioned the sensibility of her own choice to enter this building alone and at night, but she would not be frightened off by insects and wind.

She moved along the corridor, taking care to mute the torch as she passed open doorways of rooms that were on the front of the property.

Although the building was surrounded by fencing she couldn’t take a chance that the light would be seen from the road or the houses opposite.

On her left she passed a utility room and on her right was the common room. She pictured Louise in that room, holding court, rallying her troops as the group leader ‒ until some bastard tried to saw her in half.

Kim headed for the room at the bottom of the hallway. The room where the fire had been started. The manager’s office.

As she entered, she switched off the torch. A streetlight next to the bus stop cast a shadow into the room.

Did you stand in here and ask him for help? Kim silently asked Tracy. Did you come to Richard Croft and seek his advice before you were buried alive? Kim suspected not.

Kim shook away the thought and surveyed the room. Two filing cabinets stood behind the open door. She opened each drawer in turn. The light from the street lamp did not illuminate that far into the room. She searched each one by hand.

Nothing.

She moved to the bookcase on the other side of the doorway. It was a heavy, wooden structure that ended six inches from the ceiling. She ran her hand along each empty shelf, standing on the second shelf up to examine the top. Although her hand was blackened by dark, dusty soot there was nothing to find. She blew away the loose blackened powder and wiped the remainder on her jeans.

She moved to the desk nearest to the window and opened each of the drawers. In the bottom she found a small petty cash tin. She shook it lightly. It was empty.

Kim stood and surveyed the room. The denture was here. She felt it. Where would it be placed to try and ensure its destruction?

Her eyes wandered back to the bookcase nearest the door. The fire had been started in the hallway outside the office door, at the furthest point from the bedrooms of the girls. Somehow the fire had chosen its own direction and headed down the hallway, leaving Croft’s office intact.

She put the torch in her pocket and stood before the bookcase. This time she examined every shelf, top and bottom and side panels. She knelt on the floor searching for any gap beneath the lowest shelf.

Nothing.

She sneezed as the dust and soot lifted from the surfaces she had touched.

She stood before the bookcase and opened her arms. She could just about manage to embrace the whole object in a giant hug. She pulled at one side and then the other, budging it forward by an inch at a time. After a few attempts, the bookcase and the wall were separated by about eight inches. Not much, but enough for her to reach behind.

Kim started to move her hand across the plywood backing, sweeping from side to side. Her face was pressed against the side panel as she reached for the furthest point.

The tips of her fingers glided over a smooth surface at odds with the rough plywood. She pushed as far as she could, straining at the shoulder. She touched again. Tape. Her fingers had found the edge of a strip of Sellotape. With one almighty push, she forced herself into the corner.

Instantly, she was reminded of foster family number three, who had used the naughty corner as a form of punishment. She would estimate that approximately one-third of her five-month stay had been spent in that corner. And it hadn't always been her fault. Sometimes it had just been made to look that way.

Kim froze as her hand closed around the unmistakeable shape of a tooth.

The word
punishment
flew around her head and she closed her eyes. She shook her head with disbelief. Why the hell had she not seen it sooner? It had been staring at her from the wipe board. Beheading, Premature Burial and Death by Sawing; all forms of capital punishment.

She retracted her arm from behind the bookcase. The denture could wait. It no longer held the importance that it had earlier.

She had to call for back up. She now had the pieces to finally solve this case. One last visit and her girls could rest peacefully.

Too late, Kim saw a shadow in the hallway cast by the streetlamp.

And then she saw nothing.

K
im opened
her eyes to find a strip of fabric jammed into her mouth, tied in a knot at the back of her head.

She had been laid on her side and her hands and feet were bound together in a bunch of limbs, her knees wedged beneath her chin.

The pain throughout her body faded in comparison to the thudding in her head. It originated from the crown and spread like tentacles around to her temples, ears and jawbone.

An icy coldness from the concrete floor was seeping through her clothes and into her bones.

For a moment Kim couldn't recall where she was, or why. Gradually, flashes of the day started to come back to her but it was like a collage. She had a vision of Richard Croft lying face down on the floor in a pool of blood. She vaguely remembered the briefing but couldn’t recall if that had happened the previous day. She sensed, more than remembered, that she’d returned to the site and spoken with Cerys.

As the snapshots began to arrange in chronological order Kim recalled that she had returned to Crestwood to find the denture.

Through the haze, she remembered that she'd found it ‒ before the blackness descended.

She had no idea how long she had been unconscious but she knew she was in the manager’s office. Dust and soot were caked to her skin.

Her vision started to clear and her eyes adjusted to the light. The room was unchanged and the street lamp outside threw a hazy light into the room.

The silence was broken only by the sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance. The noise offered an eerie presence in its continuous regularity.

Kim pulled at the ties that bound her. They held fast but scored into her flesh. She tried again, ignoring the pain, but the rope burned into her broken skin.

She searched her memory for anything she may have seen in the room that might help her. Nothing came, but she knew she couldn't just lie still and wait.

Something scurried past her head, which galvanised her into action. She tried to inch forward, wriggling like a scorched worm. The effort brought fresh waves of pain emanating through her skull and bile burned the back of her throat. She prayed she would not throw up and choke.

Suddenly she heard a noise and stopped squirming, her senses alert and keen.

She craned her neck towards the doorway. A figure appeared. The form was familiar to her.

Kim blinked through the darkness as her attacker stepped into the shard of light illuminating the room.

Her gaze travelled from the feet, up the legs, torso and shoulders ‒ right into the eyes of William Payne.

W
illiam Payne stepped
towards her slowly. His eyes held no expression and her head began to move involuntarily from side to side. No, this was not right. Her stomach muscles revolted at the scenario before her. This was not who she’d been expecting.

He leaned down beside her and started trying to undo the knots that bound her like a piece of cattle. His fingers worked quickly but clumsily.

She tried to speak but the fabric in her mouth made her question unintelligible.

He shook his head. ‘We don’t have much time,’ he whispered.

His mouth opened to say more but a low whistling sound came from the top of the corridor.

William put a finger to his lips and stepped back into the shadows of the room. As she couldn’t make a sound because of the gag, she guessed he was telling her not to disclose his position.

The humming continued and grew louder. The gait of the visitor was not similar to that of William Payne. These steps were definite, assured, purposeful.

Again, the doorway filled with a shadow, but this time Kim did not have to wait for the owner to step into the beam of light.

This
was
the one she'd been expecting.

‘
B
ryant
, you've gotta find the Guv,’ Stacey barked into the mouthpiece. ‘It's the Pastor. It's Wilks. He killed the girls and I can't get the Guv on the phone.’

‘Slow down, Stace,’ Bryant said. The sound of the television in the background was receding. She guessed he was taking the phone to another room. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Them emails I sent out just for a punt. There was a hoohar in Bristol twelve years ago when a family got a metal pin in the ashes of their relative. The crematorium was accused of mixing up funerals but after the incident Wilks left in haste.’

‘Stace, no offence but that doesn't mean he's guilty of ...’

Stacey held her frustration. She didn't have the time. ‘I've checked the archives and two weeks before a kid named Rebecca Shaw ran away from Clifton children's home ...’

‘Why would that make the papers?’ Bryant asked.

‘Because she'd already been in the news when she got run over. Really bad damage to her knees ...’

‘That would have required pinning,’ Bryant finished.

Stacey could hear the slotting of pieces into place.

‘That's how he disposed of ‘em before,’ Stacey said. ‘But he couldn't risk it again.’

She heard Bryant sigh heavily. ‘Jesus, Stace, how many are we ...’

‘Bryant, you gotta find the Guv. Her phone died when I spoke to her earlier and she didn't sound right.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Dunno, she was distracted, agitated. I don't think she was going home. I'm worried that ...’

‘Stace, get it circulated that she's missing. It's a bollocking I'm happy to take if she's safe and sound.’

‘I will, but Bryant ...’

‘Yeah?’

‘Just find her.’

The word
alive
went unspoken between them.

‘I will, Stace, I promise.’

Stacey replaced the receiver. She believed him. Bryant would find Kim.

She just hoped that he wasn't too late.

H
e stepped
inside the room and placed a shovel against the wall.

Kim watched as his feet moved closer towards her. She could not crane her neck to look up although she desperately wanted to. She wanted to look straight into the eyes of the evil bastard who had tried to saw a girl in half.

His voice was low and jovial, as though discussing where to dine out that evening. ‘So kind of your colleagues to dig a few holes for me. That last one was very easy to re-dig. I think you’ll be very happy there.’

Kim strained against her ties and tried to spit out the gag.

She felt the tie around her right wrist loosen slightly but not enough.

Victor Wilks laughed out loud. ‘This must be a novelty for you, Detective. You’re normally the one in control, but not anymore.’

Kim felt the frustration grow inside her. One on one she could take him. She’d beat the living shit out of him. His only method of controlling her was to truss her up like a damn turkey.

He knelt down beside her and finally she could see into his eyes. They were warm with triumph.

‘I’ve done a lot of reading about you, Detective. I understand your passion, I understand your drive. I even understand the affinity you might feel towards your young victims.’

His voice was melodic as though conducting a service for the recently deceased. ‘You were one of those girls, weren’t you, my dear ... but unlike them, you made yourself into a decent human being.’

Kim strained against the rope. She wanted so badly to wring Wilks’ neck and pummel the smug expression from his face.

He stepped back a pace and laughed. ‘Oh, Kim. I knew you’d be a fighter. I could sense your spirit the first time I saw you.’

Kim gurgled against the rag.

He tipped his head and read the rage in her eyes. ‘You think I won’t get away with this?’

Kim nodded and gurgled again.

‘Oh, but I will, my dear. You see, this ground will never be touched again. Certainly not in my lifetime.’ He chuckled. ‘And most definitely not in yours.

‘This land is now the original burial site of three murdered teenage girls. No one will be allowed to disturb it again. Now, remind me again who knows you’re here?’

Kim squirmed towards him. The shadow of William Payne standing behind the open door was visible to her. She needed the minister to move around so that he would not notice the anomaly in the light.

The movement only prompted Victor to change the leg he was resting his weight on. He was still side on to the doorway.

‘And you forget one vital detail, my dear. I have done this before. At least three times – so I think you’ll find I’m relatively good at ...’

His words trailed away as the shadow to his left stepped out of the darkness.

Kim groaned as she heard the rush of air. She knew that William had made his move too early. The three steps it had taken him to get to Victor Wilks had offered the minister time to stand and get his footing.

The first strike from William was deflected easily. Although William was younger and taller, Victor Wilks hid pure strength behind his considerable girth.

Victor seized the momentum of William stumbling backwards and was upon him in a second. He raised his fist and struck William to the side of the head. William’s head flew to the side.

Victor then gave him a left hook, sending William’s head travelling in the other direction. The stance of the minister told Kim that she'd been right about his time in the boxing ring. William didn’t stand a chance.

She tried to wriggle further into the middle of the room, hoping to place herself as an obstruction that might cause Victor Wilks to trip and give William the upper hand.

Kim had never felt so damned useless in her life.

‘You should be grateful for what I did, you pathetic little shit,’ Victor said as William slid down the wall. ‘After what those little bitches did to your daughter. You should be bloody thanking me.’

William was halfway down the wall but he lunged forward, aiming for Victor’s genitals with his hand.

The motion caused Victor to step backwards out of reach. His right foot kicked her in the head, causing an explosion at the back of her eyes.

It took a few seconds for Kim to blink away the stars but she watched as Victor grabbed William by the throat and lifted him back to a standing position. Victor pinned him against the wall with his left hand at William’s neck. She watched in horror as William’s eyes rolled in his head.

Victor aimed one last punch at William’s head, then released him.

Kim cried out loud as William Payne clutched his chest and fell to the ground.