Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(56)

Purse – brown (unopened)

Casio watch

Ankle bracelet



Alison’s heart began to hammer as she reached the bottom.

She pointed. ‘Are you sure?’

Valerie nodded. ‘Removed it myself.’

The entry read,

Plastic earring – pink flamingo x 1





Seventy-Two





‘Hey, Bryant, knock like you bloody mean it,’ Kim said, banging harder on the front door.

It had taken less than fifteen minutes to get from the station in Halesowen to Duggar’s house behind The Civic.

The journey had been frenetic but not so much for Bryant who’d had his eyes closed. He’d asked what she and Alison had been discussing and one look had told him she wasn’t in the mood to share.

‘Let’s try around the back,’ Kim said, jogging to the end of the row. Behind the houses was a narrow gulley filled with old kids’ toys and garden rubbish.

Kim negotiated her way to the third one along, and stopped dead.

The six foot fencing was finished off with a trellis that ran the length of the wooden panels, adding another foot to the height. That wasn’t the problem. The issue was the barbed wire wrapped all the way around it.

‘Bloody hell, home from home or what?’ she said.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Bryant warned. ‘Even Bear Grylls ain’t getting over that.’

‘Hey, Bryant, what costs more, a glass panel or a fence panel?’ she asked, thoughtfully.

‘Well, fence panels are pretty cheap these—’

‘Yeah, my thoughts exactly,’ she said, raising her leg and kicking the fence panel.

‘Jesus, guv, we don’t even know—’

‘Shut up and help,’ she instructed. When he hesitated she rolled her eyes. ‘Look, Woody will be overjoyed I considered his budget restraints, and I have reason to believe the man is in danger, satisfied?’

‘Well, not really cos he’s built like a brick shithouse as my nan used to—’

‘Who doesn’t like conflict,’ she reminded him, as his second kick made the hole bigger. Two more and they were through to the row of laburnum trees that hid the barbed wire from the house.

Kim pushed through aware of the cobwebs attaching themselves to every piece of her clothing.

She headed towards the patio door but could already tell the kitchen was empty.

She tried the door.

It opened as the sound of dog barking began.

Bryant looked at her questioningly. She knew what he was thinking. Would a man who had barbed wire around his garden leave a door open when he left the house?

She stepped into the kitchen and stood beside the door to the utility room.

‘It’s all right, Mofo,’ she called out. The dog gave one last bark, a growl and then quietened down, as though his job of keeping people away had failed, so there was no point carrying on.

Bryant stepped into the lounge so that both exits were covered.

‘Police,’ he shouted. No answer and no sound of movement.

‘Police,’ he repeated. ‘I’m coming up,’ he called heading to the stairs.

Kim could see that Bryant was not going to find anything upstairs.

A cup of coffee sat in the middle of the kitchen work surface. It was still lukewarm to the touch.

John Duggar had left the house some time in the last half hour, and by the looks of it, he’d been in a bit of a hurry.





Seventy-Three





Despite the boss’s instruction to go home Stacey found herself standing outside the home of Mr and Mrs Phelps.

There was something incomplete about this whole situation. Two respectable, unassuming people had burned alive in a car fire and there’d been no one to tell.

She had established they had a son who was away travelling and she hoped there was some kind of clue here as to where he’d gone. A postcard, a letter, a computer she could check for emails.

The neighbour had given her the name of Joel and her searches for ‘Joel Phelps’ had turned up nothing on her normal searches: no police record, no social media, so wherever he was travelling he appeared to have checked out of civilisation; but surely, he was in touch with his parents.

She showed her ID and slipped under the cordon tape. A few onlookers were hanging around in small groups but there was no spectacle. Looking around at the tidy, unremarkable semis in the street she guessed the folks here didn’t really do spectacle, but there was little to see. There were no bodies being brought out, no scandalous secrets being broadcast on the news. Their home was being combed for clues.

‘Hey, Mitch,’ Stacey said, stepping into the hallway. ‘You having a break from Doctor A?’ she asked, remembering what the boss had said.

He rolled his eyes. ‘I swear, if the woman calls me an idiot one more time…’

His words trailed away as he shook his head.

‘Anything interesting?’

‘Nothing to indicate any kind of struggle. All rooms are in order, stuff put away. What brings you here, anyway?’ he asked removing the mask from the top of his head.

‘Just wanna get a feel for them. You see any computer or iPad?’

He shook his head again. ‘Folks didn’t even have Sky or cable. Freeview and a normal landline.’ He checked his watch and looked around. ‘And we’ll be sealing the property in about half an hour.’