Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(19)

Kim had a sudden thought and wanted to offer the woman some comfort before she left.

‘At least she came to see you in hospital.’

‘Not so sure about that, officer. Probably came to see if her plan had worked.’

Kim was genuinely perplexed. ‘Sorry, I’m not sure…’

‘I was in hospital, Inspector, because I was mugged and beaten and I’m pretty sure it was Amy and Mark behind it.’





Twenty-Six





It was almost seven when Kim handed Bryant the keys back to his own car outside the station.

‘Okay, get off home now,’ she said.

He glanced up at the squad room window. ‘Want me to come up?’

She shook her head. ‘Nah, we gotta have this conversation before she can start profiling this killer and be some use to us.’

‘Okay, but if you want a chat later…’

‘I’ll give your missis a call cos I like her more than I like you.’

He thought for a minute. ‘Yeah, can’t say I blame you,’ he replied, before getting in the car.



* * *



She headed inside, nodded at Jack on the desk and took the stairs to the second floor.

Kim had made no secret of her disdain for profiling, behavioural analysis and other hocus pocus when Alison had joined them on the kidnapping case. Kim firmly believed that people were individuals and couldn’t be generalised by the actions of people in the past and assuming that they could was dangerous.

Kim liked to profile a murderer based on the clues and events of a crime. If a victim received twenty or so stab wounds it was safe to say the murderer was angry, enraged, but it was less safe to say he was a twenty-seven-year-old male who had been bullied at school and still lived with his domineering mother while working some dead-end job.

Because everyone had access to anger. Anyone could feel enraged by a person, a situation, a circumstance. And everyone had the ability to just snap.

And yet Kim had to admit that Alison had offered some valuable insights into the mind of a killer when they had worked together before.

So, she appreciated the help of the woman but knew they would need a conversation first.

‘All caught up?’ Kim asked, entering the squad room.

Alison nodded and stood, heading over to the percolator.

Kim was amused to see her walking in her stockinged feet with her high heels discarded beneath the desk.

‘Hey, don’t judge me. They’ve been on my feet for almost twelve hours.’

Kim held up her hands in a non-judgemental way. ‘Hey, I wear biker boots an inch high so, trust me, I’m not judging,’ Kim said as Alison sat back down.

Kim took Bryant’s chair opposite. ‘So, what do you think we’re looking at?’ she asked trying to bypass the inevitable.

‘Easy tiger, cool your heels. First things first. Obviously, DCI Woodward has given me the general outline but I’d like to hear more from you,’ she said, taking out a black spiral notebook. ‘So, tell me the similarities to the events in your childhood. All of them.’

‘Boy and a girl,’ she said.

‘Hmm, hmm, ‘Alison replied, motioning for her to continue.

‘Flat three floors beneath where I lived.’

‘Yep.’

‘Boy dead, girl not,’ she said.

Alison looked up. ‘But I just read…’

‘Not dead when help arrived. Paramedics worked on her for hours.’

‘Got it. Next.’

‘Chained to a radiator with handcuffs.’

‘Yes.’

‘Coke bottle.’

‘Yep.’

‘Cracker packet lodged in the throat of Mark Johnson.’

‘Anything else?’ Alison asked, raising her head.

‘Isn’t that a fucking nuff?’ she snapped.

‘What’s your problem?’

Kim said nothing.

Alison sat back in her chair and shook her head. ‘There’s no pleasing you. You expected an emotional response from me and you got none. You’re annoyed at my coldness and yet that’s exactly what you want. You don’t want understanding, empathy, sympathy otherwise you’d have told your team by now.’

‘Oh, please continue,’ Kim growled when Alison paused. After the day she’d had this was exactly what she needed right now.

‘I intend to. Do I think your past is horrific? Absolutely. Do you gain anything by me telling you so? Not at all because you were there and, quite frankly, I’ve interviewed people so twisted and broken by past events that make yours look like a trip to the bouncy castle followed by ice cream.’

‘I’m not in any fucking competition for shittest childhood of the century.’

‘You’d lose by a mile, so please tell me if there has been anything else,’ Alison said, meeting her gaze, calmly.

‘Fairview. Mark Johnson spent much of his childhood there, just like me but I think that’s just coincidence.’

‘And you’re sure that’s it?’

Kim nodded. ‘So, when can you help out and give us your observations on the killer?’

Kim read genuine confusion in the eyes of the woman opposite.

‘Detective Inspector Stone, there appears to be some kind of miscommunication. My brief and instruction has nothing to do with the killer. I’m here to observe you.’