Chapter 41 #2
I saved my words. I didn’t want to hear hers. We didn’t need a confession; we didn’t need her words. Everything would be in this space, this dark, damp space that was acrid with the stench of death and pain.
She spat at me, a glob of saliva hitting my shoulder. Her body tensed underneath mine, trying to work out a way to move me off her, but I had her pinned.
Silence, apart from our breathing and the faint sound of birdsong, wrapped around us, a shroud.
It was then I heard it, footsteps, the sound of running, cars on gravel, my name being called repeatedly.
I didn’t shout back, knowing they’d find me, not wanting to release any of the tension I was applying on Justine, on Kelly-Anne.
Then the door opened and the space was coated in light.
I saw her face clearly for the first time, the shadows lifted away.
She was pretty, young, her eyes determined, her face full of hate.
“You should’ve gone back and killed him, you know.” She spat the words at me. “You shouldn’t have let him get away with it.”
I didn’t answer, Vinny was there with two other officers, ready with their cuffs and her rights, paramedics swarmed in, heading for Sophie, and I sunk back on my heels, my muscles slackening, the adrenaline exiting, leaving me hungover and shaky.
Vinny crouched down next to me, an arm around my shoulders, and for a second I leaned against him, not wanting to cry even though they would be tears of relief if they fell.
“Save the lecture till later. If I’d have waited, Sophie could’ve been killed.” I stood up, inhaling a drink of dank air. I needed light and clouds and the grey Manchester sky. Sophie was now on a stretcher, my phone lying abandoned beside her.
“I heard the fight over the phone. I only ended the call when we got here.” He stood up with me, his hand over my shoulders still. “Remind me never to mess with you, Mia.”
“You mess with me every day. You’re just lucky I’m a restrained person. Has someone called Mike Linwood?”
Someone had, I was informed as I walked outside, the Manchester sky that I’d craved now yellow with a sun that was itself fighting to break through the clouds.
I watched as Justine was placed in the back of a police van, ready to be locked inside somewhere again. Leaving Vinny, I ran over to it.
“You need to place her on suicide watch.”
An officer, Mark Marriott, nodded. “Gotcha. Psych eval first, I’m guessing.”
“We won’t get to interview her until tomorrow. She’ll need a full medical.” And more. This hadn’t ended yet. But Sophie was safe. We’d saved one life, although I wasn’t sure how I was going to get over the killer being under my nose.
“I’ll pass it on to the custody sergeant.” Mark gave me a nod and got in the front of the van.
I could see Jenna’s team getting out of a van that’d just turned up, Wrigley pacing out the land in front of the garages, looking at Justine’s car.
I stood in the wide open space, looking up at the sky, down to where it met the grey, decaying concrete of the halls of residence, where I’d lived myself for two years, buddleia and trees growing out from the roof, the dead eyes of the windows not caring that a killer had used their space as killing grounds.
“Are you okay?” Vinny was there again. “Wrigley wants you to give your statement back at the office. The paramedics need to check you over.”
I nodded, my body feeling wrought from running, from fighting. I was covered in grime from rolling around on the garage floor. “I am. We saved Sophie. And I’m not injured – she didn’t land that much on me, just one punch to the jaw I could’ve lived without. How’s Sophie?”
“She’s already come round. Mike’s meeting her at the hospital. I’m still mad at you for not waiting.” His words lacked the sharpness they could’ve had.
“You’d have done the same.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure I would, Mia. That’s where you and I are different.”
“You’d have waited even though you know she could’ve killed Sophie?” I didn’t believe him.
“Maybe. It’s reputation, it’s professional conduct. I’m bigger than Justine – you don’t know what else you have to lose.”
“Maybe I don’t have anything to lose.” I folded my arms, cold now. Jenna Osei walked over, kit in her hand. She was looking at me warily, as if she wasn’t sure how I was going to be now I knew about her and my half-brother.
“Mia, are you okay?” she said, pausing a few feet away.
“I’ve been worse.” I really had. “You’ve a big scene to check over.”
She looked around, surveying the task her team were about to begin. “I’ve had worse. Sophie was in the third garage from the left?”
“That’s the one. The knife’s in there.”
“We’ve bagged it. Nate’s expecting it – he’ll look this evening to see if it’s consistent with the murder weapon for the five victims.”
“And Charlie Mason. Don’t forget Charlie Mason.” I wanted justice for him, however cold it was.
“He’ll check. How did you see the connection with Charlie?” She looked curious. “It was years before.”
“And he wasn’t at Aberwyn, was he?” Vinny asked. “He wasn’t involved.”
“She was friends with him when they were at Lindridge – the psychiatric hospital. My guess is that she talked about revenge when they were there together and he was a loose end when she planned this.” I knew we might never know her motivation for killing Charlie.
“We know the knife was purchased on the dark web before his murder.”
“Intent,” Vinny said. “She’s planned all of this.”
“Every bit.” I nodded, noticing Jenna’s odd expression.
“Mia, can I have a word? Although this might not be the best time.” She stepped closer.
Vinny made himself scarce, heading over towards Wrigley.
“I’m okay about everything with Nate. Just don’t hurt him.” The words were there without thinking about them.
She gave a half-laugh, looking away from me towards the garages. “I wanted to say something a while ago, but I didn’t know what. I know things with you are complicated.”
“Everything’s complicated. Nate especially.” I was glad he was here now though, in Manchester. For the first time in our lives we were in the same city. Common ground.
She shook her head. “He’s not that complicated and he wanted to be closer to you. I was just the excuse, whatever you might think.”
“It’s a big thing though, either way.”
“It is. I’m hoping it’s the right one, whatever his main reason for being here was. I’ll leave you to it. I have a crime scene to comb.” She gave me a smile and backed away. “Everyone’s saying how brave you were, Mia. You did well.”
“Thank you.” But I could’ve done better.
Wrigley made his way over, Vinny still with him, giving me a nod of approval, slight enough that it could go unnoticed. “Boss.”
“Mia. Well done. Although we need to talk about the years you just took off my life when I knew what was happening.” He patted me on the shoulder. Me, him and Vinny standing in a triangle, still, while the mania of CSI and coppers and helicopters stirred a maelstrom around us.
“Yeah. Well, it was the only thing I could do.” I looked at Vinny as I said the words. “I know I need to give a statement, but I really need a shower first. Can I go home and shower and get changed?”
Wrigley nodded. “Vinny can give you a lift. We won’t be interviewing Justine Bellamy till tomorrow morning at the soonest. You’re certain that she’s Kelly-Anne Marsh?”
“Completely. We’ll be able to track that back.
The real Justine Bellamy’s in Maryland. Kelly-Anne wanted a fresh start; she knew Justine was moving abroad so she assumed her identity.
At some point she’d have been in an office with an opportunity to find out Justine’s personal information.
She restarted here, with Daniel Fletcher as one of her tutors, probably all the while finding out what happened with the Aberwyn girls, planning revenge.
We need to find out from Sophie exactly what happened when they locked her in that cellar.
” I needed to find out Daniel’s part in this.
My blood ran cold thinking about him. Thinking about his lecture, his upcoming study into women who kill, the notes I’d glanced over that recorded conversations he’d had with Justine.
With me.
A confession, years ago, the first person I told that I’d been sexually abused by my gymnastics coach, but I’d never said a word, terrified that my foster parents would be accused of not having safeguarded me and I’d be relocated to a children’s care home, because no one wants a fifteen-year-old foster kid.
The coach had said that to me, manipulated me, picked on the scab of vulnerability that I was a burden and no one wanted me anyway.
So I stopped gymnastics and for the first time in my life, asked Stan for something. Muay Thai lessons. I wanted to learn how to fight and then I never stopped.
I’d told Daniel at the end of my first year, when I struggled with the second thing Stan had given me, tuition fees and a sum of money to cover rent, food and books, no conditions made.
Dirty money. Money that had killed my mother. Money that’d seen me brought up as a charity case.
Daniel had convinced me that the best way to get my revenge was to follow my plan to join the police and be the very thing that Stan wouldn’t want, only that didn’t work.
He’d told me he was proud of me, because I was following my dreams, and all a parent wants is for their child to be happy.
“Let me get changed. Freshen up, and Vinny and I will go to the hospital.”
We continued to move forward, in search of what might bring us peace.