Chapter 59
Fifty-Nine
Kim had three missed calls from Keats, each with less than a minute in between.
It was his text message to Bryant that had sent her flying out the door. It just gave a location. She’d put Butler back on ice in the cells and would continue with him once she was back.
Efforts to call Keats for a bit more information had gone to voicemail. She was about to express her frustration when her phone lit up in her hand.
‘Aww shit,’ Kim said before putting the call on speaker. ‘Stone.’
‘Inspector, it’s Gloria Lincoln from child services.’
Kim already knew that, but her mind was working on overdrive. Penn had updated her on the Chances, and she supposed that was why she was getting a call.
‘Hey, Gloria. How are you?’
Bryant glanced her way. She only ever made small talk when she was playing for time.
‘I’m well, thank you. I’m ringing to arrange collection of Ava.’
‘Oh, have there been developments?’ Kim asked, feeling her heart sink. It could only be one of two things. Either a place had opened up at the notorious Lebworth, or Gloria had visited the Chances and been swayed by their performance. Kim wasn’t sure which scenario scared her more.
‘We’ve assessed her relatives and, in the short term, they’d be a good fit for her.’
‘She doesn’t know them,’ Kim protested.
‘Nor would she know anyone at Lebworth, Inspector, but we’d never place a child in a facility when there are family members who are willing and able to care for them.’
‘Do they have the space?’
‘It’ll be a squeeze, but it’s seven to a room in Lebworth so…’
‘I can’t do it right now,’ Kim said. ‘My colleague has taken her to Alton Towers, you know, to take her mind off stuff. It’s already late, and she’ll be tired when they get back. No point in all that upheaval tonight.’
‘Inspector, this is highly irregular.’
‘Well, the whole thing is, isn’t it? She’s safe where she is for one more night, and I will personally drop her off tomorrow.’
Kim crossed her fingers, hoping the woman wouldn’t insist on a changeover whatever time it was.
‘I suppose it is a bit late. Still, I want your assurance that Ava will be with us tomorrow morning.’
‘Thanks, Gloria. Gotta go,’ Kim said, ending the call.
She wasn’t sure if she was just delaying the inevitable, but she did know that once Ava was with the Chance family, Daniel’s odds of getting her back were about zero. Yes, she’d played for time, and she didn’t know what she’d do with that time… but that was a later problem.
Right now, she needed to focus on whatever Keats had called her out for.
‘Bloody hell,’ Bryant said as they turned into the road on the edge of the Wren’s Nest Estate in Dudley.
It was after teatime, and it looked as though everyone in the local area had turned out to view the spectacle.
It was ironic, Kim thought as she got out of the car, that by now these locals probably knew more about the incident than she did.
She and Bryant pushed through the crowd to a small, detached property on the tree-lined street. Officers were in the process of pushing back the crowds to cordon it off. Stragglers kept getting through, wanting just one more look.
It took them less than a minute to get suited up, by which time Keats was at the front door.
‘Details would be appreciated,’ Kim snapped.
‘And you would have had them if you’d answered your phone.’
‘Interviewing a suspect,’ she bit back.
‘Hmm… I’m not so sure about that, but we’ll see,’ he said, walking back into the house.
She followed him past a lounge on the left to a second living room.
She stood at the door for a minute, taking in the scene.
It was chaos.
A woman in her early fifties lay on the floor at the foot of some kind of treatment table.
Strewn around her were crystals and jars, some broken, some still intact.
The photos of landscapes on the wall had been knocked so they hung at different angles.
Books had fallen from a shelf in the far corner.
‘Karen Felton. Reiki master,’ Keats said, standing beside her.
Although there had been defensive wounds present on both Ashley’s and Nadine’s bodies, this woman had fought hard for her life.
Her hair had broken free from the elastic band that now hung limply on the end of a dishevelled ponytail.
Her arms and hands were covered in cuts and scrapes.
Two nails had been broken down to the nail bed.
The manner of death was the same, one single stab wound to the chest, but this lady had fought to her last breath. The struggle had travelled all the way around the room.
‘Who found her?’
‘Her lodger. A college kid with a room upstairs.’
Automatically, Bryant disappeared to get more details.
‘He got back at six and found her, but she was already dead,’ Keats said.
‘What time did he leave?’
‘Lunchtime. He only had one lesson today.’
‘Anything?’ she asked, knowing Keats would understand exactly what she meant.
He shook his head. ‘He’s not your man. Could barely even remember his own name.’
Kim took a walk around the body, careful to stay out of the photographer’s way. She wondered how many years this woman had been welcoming people into her home for treatment until the day she lost her life.
‘Any idea of time?’ Kim asked without looking up.
‘Two to four hours ago,’ he said, confirming her worst fears.
This woman had been murdered sometime after two o’clock.
Joe Butler had been in custody since this morning.
As despicable a human as he was, he wasn’t their killer.
How was that even possible? she asked herself.
The man had links to both Ashley and Nadine.
He was angry with both of them. They’d wronged him.
In his mind, one had cost him his kids and the other had cost him his pride.
She’d seen people murdered for far less.
But there was no escaping the fact that he had not killed their third victim.
She couldn’t help hoping that Stacey would miraculously find some kind of link from Gemma Ross to both Nadine and Karen.
After her foul messages to Ashley, she’d love nothing more than to haul in the hateful woman, but any opportunity to do that was looking less and less likely.
She turned away and texted instructions to Penn to process the man out and then stand down. It was already gone eight o’clock.
She turned back to the victim. Her eye was drawn to the woman’s left hand. Just inches away from her fingertips was a jagged-edged purple crystal the size of a tennis ball. She bent down to look closer and frowned.
On the right-hand side of the crystal, which was formed of sharp spikes, there were bloodstains. She looked at the other crystals that lay around the floor and none of those had blood spatter on them.
What if it wasn’t blood spatter at all? This woman had fought her attacker with everything she had.
Had she managed to injure her assailant?
As the techies began to bag the victim’s hands, she instructed them to bag the purple crystal too.
There was a good chance they now had their killer’s DNA.