Child's Play (D.I. Kim Stone #11)(66)

Mitch had told him that he wanted to run some further tests overnight and would get back to him in the morning. He had debated for just a minute leaving the evidence in the care of the technician but he now knew the garment held nothing they could use. All he wanted now was the truth.

Exhausted, he had agreed, left the lab and come home to a quiet, empty house. He had looked in on his mother who was sleeping soundly to the soft, background noise of talk radio, her night time companion.

Jasper had been sprawled across his bed, a carefree pile of limbs and torso illuminated by his astronomy lamp that turned and reflected stars and planets on the walls and the ceiling.

Penn had watched him for a few seconds. One moment unflinching and unreactive to the occasional sudden, jerky movements from his strewn limbs.

He’d touched his brother gently on the head before quietly leaving the room.

These were his constants, his family. He was part of a team that, while welcoming and friendly, did not yet hold the long-term familiarity he’d known at West Mercia.

His old team should have felt more familiar, more like home, yet in truth he couldn’t wait to get back to where he now felt he belonged.

Things had changed in his old team but he wasn’t sure what. There was a guardedness from his former colleagues that had not been present before.

It was like they all knew he didn’t fit any more but were doing their best to ignore it.

Despite the sadness it brought him, that wasn’t the thought that was going to keep him up all night.





Seventy-Two





‘Everyone sleep well?’ Kim asked, as they sat down to breakfast. It had taken almost fifteen minutes to get a table for four. Seemed everyone in the hotel had decided to eat at the exact same time. Hell, even the damn clown was chowing down on a plate of bacon and eggs.

‘Like a log,’ Tiff said, sipping her orange juice.

Bryant and Stacey shot daggers her way.

‘What?’

‘Tink, you snore,’ Kim said. ‘Like loud.’

‘Very,’ added Stacey who had shared a room with her.

Even Bryant had stepped out of his room carrying a pillow.

‘A bit extreme,’ she’d said at 4 a.m., from her spot on the sofa, visualising him placing it over the young constable’s face.

‘Damn, you’ve got my spot,’ he’d said, hoping the extra few feet distance would lessen the sound. It didn’t, Kim assured him before he turned and trundled off back to bed.

Although, it wasn’t Tiffany’s snoring that had kept her awake. It was her mind drawing invisible lines between everyone they’d met so far this week. Eventually she’d felt as though her head might explode.

Kim took a moment while her team ordered food to take a good look around the restaurant, full to capacity, but three sweeps of the space told her that the woman who had been dining alone the previous night was nowhere to be found. It was as though she’d simply disappeared. She’d witnessed hostility between the woman and Serena Welmsley and she wanted to know why.

‘Okay, so here’s the plan,’ Kim said, once the waiter had left the table. ‘Bryant and I will be walking around asking questions and I want you two to dig a bit deeper on Beth Nixon. I want to know if that was her only stay in an institution, and I want anything that happened for the year prior to that stay. There was some kind of family tragedy that she didn’t want to talk about.’

‘Okay, boss, we’ll—’

‘As well as that I want you to find out more about this Robinson family who recently lost their son. I don’t think there’s any connection but the timing stinks, so I want to rule it out.’

‘No probs, I’ll—’

‘And once you’re done on that I want you to identify the years all three of our victims attended this event and which kids came into contact with all three of them. Then look at any ex-contestants who are on the attendees’ list in any capacity: parents, volunteers, judges, everyone,’ Kim said, realising the volume of work she’d just thrown their way.

‘You think he’s here, don’t you?’ Tiffany asked, in a small voice, as though the idea of being in the same venue as a mass killer had only just dawned on her.

‘Absolutely,’ Kim said. ‘Where else would he be, given our victims?’ she asked.

No one argued but all three turned and looked around as though they could spot him right here in the breakfast room.

‘Folks, he ain’t wearing a bloody sign,’ she said, with amusement.

‘Could be a she,’ Tiff offered.

‘We never rule it out, Tink,’ Kim explained. ‘Trust me, we’ve come across our fair share of lady killers but for ease of reference we use the term “he”.’

‘Don’t female killers tend to use poison?’ she asked, finishing her second cup of tea.

‘So the true crime books say, but of the female killers we’ve dealt with not one of them used that method,’ Bryant answered.

‘But keep whistling those show tunes, Tiff,’ Stacey said. ‘And I’ll certainly consider it.’

They all chuckled as Stacey looked pointedly at Tiff’s tea cup.

The smile was wiped swiftly from Kim’s face as a figure she knew well appeared in the doorway.