Dead Memories (D.I. Kim Stone #10)(94)

‘Okay, start looking at CCTV for the times she arrived and left this week. I want to know if she came in any vehicle other than her own.’

Stacey nodded and started tapping away to access the station cameras.

‘Penn?’ she said, as he ended the call.

He shook his head. ‘Still a few minutes out. They’ll call as soon as they get there.’

‘Okay, where else can we look? What do we know about her?’ Kim asked.

‘She eats a lot,’ Stacey offered while Penn just shrugged.

‘So, this woman has been working alongside us all week and the best we’ve got is she’s not keen on dogs and has a healthy appetite?’

Her colleagues said nothing. Kim wasn’t only angry at them; she was just as angry at herself.

‘I don’t think it matters,’ Bryant said, staring at the board.

‘Bryant, I swear if you’re gonna try and tell me this is all some weird coincidence, that Duggar is our man and Alison is off at an all-you-can-eat buffet, I’m gonna…’

‘I’m not saying that, guv,’ he said. ‘I’m saying that I’m not sure it matters where she’s been or what she’s been doing up until this point. All that matters if we’re right, and I mean we, is where she is now and the only person who can tell us that is you.’

All the tapping in the room stopped.

‘Me?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘The first crime was Amy and Mark, staged to look like you and Mikey in a place identical to where you used to live. The second murder was a middle-aged couple designed to replicate the death of Keith and Erica outside a place that was special to you. The assault on Billie Styles…’

‘Make your point, Bryant,’ she snapped but she had a rough idea where he was going.

‘If this goes true to form we’re looking at a traumatic event that involved one of your colleagues.’

‘Dawson,’ she whispered.

Stacey swallowed, and Penn looked to the ground.

The sound of Penn’s phone ringing startled them all.

He grabbed it quickly and listened.

‘Nothing, boss,’ he said. ‘Her car’s in the drive but no answer from the house.’

‘Give them my authority to force entry,’ Kim said.

Penn relayed the message as she turned to Bryant.

‘Throw us your keys. This I want to see for myself and this time it’s my turn to drive.’





One Hundred Twenty-Two





Kim said nothing as she negotiated the traffic at speed while Bryant hung on and prayed for his life. Not once had he told her to slow down.

She pulled up almost kissing the rear bumper of the squad car.

‘Thanks for that, guv. The not smashing us into an oncoming vehicles bit,’ Bryant said getting out of the car.

The front door was open and two constables stood in the doorway.

‘No one here, Marm,’ said one.

‘No sign of a struggle,’ said the other.

‘Thanks, guys,’ Kim said, walking past them.

She glanced into the living room as she passed and did a double take.

She always headed for the kitchen as it was the best indicator of recent activity, as they’d seen with Ernest Beckett who had been in the throes of preparing a snack and had evidently rushed from the premises.

The lounge often indicated the personality of the owner and boy did this room have personality. The room was a chic tribute to the Sixties. Plush carpet with orange swirls that reminded Kim of a kaleidoscope. A gramophone and cabinet occupied the furthest corner with vinyl albums stacked beside it, but the wall-mounted TV was state-of-the-art curved with a speaker cut into the wall and a subwoofer at the back of the room. A long square sofa with two cushions placed on four thin, spindly legs faced the TV, with a single chair statement piece shaped like half an egg sat to the side. Kim just knew that chair was going to twist and tilt.

The fact that she could not place Alison for one second in this room brought a smile to her face. The woman had surprised her and she liked it. This one room told Kim that Alison lived for herself and no one else. She wanted retro furniture but high-tech viewing. She hadn’t tried to fit a style, she simply liked what she liked. Her own home was furnished sparsely and was clutter free but that’s how she liked it and she wasn’t into buying ornaments and trinkets to make other people feel at home.

She headed to the kitchen which was dominated by a bubblegum pink American-style fridge freezer.

Without room for a table, kitchen units had been removed from beneath the marble countertop and two stools completed the self-made seating area.

The unit to the right was an integrated dishwasher containing glasses, cups and a dozen small plates. Stacey was right, looked like this woman was a grazer living on snacks but with few proper meals.

‘Nothing upstairs except for a few weird furnishings,’ said Bryant. ‘Which I can see is a recurring theme down here.’

Kim nodded her agreement as her phone signalled the receipt of a text message.

She took it out and saw it was from a number she didn’t recognise.

She opened it and read the words as her blood ran cold.

Bryant was opening cupboard doors as she turned away and read it again.

‘What’s up?’ Bryant asked, noticing her silence.