Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(76)

Kim found herself having a strange reaction to this man. He was almost thirty yet there was a sense of hopelessness about him that she couldn’t fathom.

‘How many times you been inside?’ Bryant asked.

‘Six, seven and I’ll be back again,’ he said, honestly.

‘Were you not close with your parents?’ she asked.

He shrugged. ‘Not really. Don’t get me wrong. I loved them but we didn’t understand each other. They couldn’t understand why I was always in trouble and I didn’t get why they were so happy to toe everyone else’s line. They loved me but I wasn’t exactly what my mother hoped for.’

Kim found herself wanting to know more.

‘Go on,’ she urged.

‘Well they worked their whole lives at average paid jobs, living in an average house with average friends and neighbours. Nothing wrong with that. It’s clean, tidy, respectable. Everything I don’t want to be. I want to be rich and I’m happy to try and get there by breaking the law. It’s how I live my life, how I want to live my life. I’ll get released and I’ll reoffend. I know that. I may get caught or I may not but that’s what they couldn’t accept about me, that I actually didn’t want to change.’

Kim admired his honesty even though she now wanted to follow him on release day and nab him when he did reoffend.

‘So, can you think of anyone who would want to hurt them?’ Bryant asked.

He looked at them incredulously. ‘Now I know you’re joking. Neither of them ever offended anyone in their lives. I bloody wish they had but they were the most inoffensive people on the planet. You can ask most of these guys. When they came to visit they spent more time buying sandwiches and coffee and chatting with other visitors; it was easier for them than sitting here talking to me.’

Kim sensed she was getting nothing further. Their lives had been worlds apart.

‘We’ll release the bodies as soon as we can and you can apply for a day pass.’

‘I won’t be going to the funeral,’ he said, quietly, turning his head away. He swallowed deeply, twice, before turning a face with reddened eyes back towards them. ‘Imagine if I turned up attached at the wrist to Egor over there. It would give their friends and neighbours gossip fodder for months and they’d hate that. I wouldn’t do that to them. I’ll say my own goodbyes.’

Kim wondered if Joel Greene understood the core of decency that ran through him.

Kim thanked him for his time and stood.

She saw that team leader Gennard had joined Officer Surly next to the vending machine.

His eyes were sweeping the room efficiently, assessing the situation, ensuring all was as it should be.

‘Just the man we’re looking for,’ Kim said to Bryant.

It wasn’t until she reached the other side of the room that she realised Dale Preece and Symes were nowhere to be seen.





Ninety-Nine





Stacey closed the front door behind Charlie and Barney. The neighbour had come to collect the dog for an afternoon walk.

‘It’s okay, Alison, you can come down from the bar stool now. He’s gone,’ she said.

‘I’m fine up here,’ she said, stubbornly. ‘Although I do need a quick pee,’ she admitted.

Stacey chuckled. The woman had been up on that stool for almost six hours without venturing into the shark-infested waters occupied by the saft as tuppence dog.

‘Where is it?’ she asked.

‘Door next to the garage.’

Having found it herself earlier, Stacey had been unable to resist a sneak peek into the garage. The boss’s Ninja had gleamed at her from the furthest point, right by the roller shutter door. Between her and the bike was a sheet covering the concrete filled with what looked like scrap metal.

Stacey had known her boss restored classic motorcycles in her spare time but she’d assumed they came in kit form with glue, fixings and instructions, like the Airfix aeroplanes her dad had spent hours on when she was young. She hadn’t thought the garage would resemble the back of a scrap man’s van.

‘Oh for goodness’ sake,’ she said as the doorbell rang again. ‘Boss needs a flipping butler. Oh, it’s you,’ she said, opening the door to Penn.

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ he said, rushing past her. He removed his jacket, sat and looked around. ‘Err… we lost a dog and a profiler?’

‘Both gone wee wee,’ she said, taking her seat opposite.

‘So, what did you find out?’ she asked.

‘Duggar and Billie were definitely a couple, as we thought, but she broke it off months ago. Had enough of being a prison wife. He didn’t take it too well. Harassed her a fair bit.’

‘Violence?’

Penn shook his head. ‘Strangely not. Looks like Duggar was telling the truth when he said he didn’t like fighting.’

‘Yeah, but given the brutality of the attack on Billie…’

‘I know. I mean Duggar’s all over this but he never laid a hand on his girlfriend and none of his crimes are violent. Never been in possession of a knife or any other weapon.’

‘What do you think about Duggar, Alison?’ Penn asked, as she retook her place on the stool.

‘We have a situation where the evidence says yes. He viewed the flat where Amy and Mark were killed, so he had access to the key. He was the person who took the car into the scrapyard and he could have met the Phelpses at the prison. We know he’s linked to Billie Styles. But, and it’s a really big but, he doesn’t even come close to fitting the profile. And we’ve all agreed that whoever is doing this must hate your boss very much. He was pleasant, co-operative and honest, so, quite frankly, my opinion is… I have no clue.’