Play Dead (D.I. Kim Stone, #4)(75)

‘Anyway, it’s only the really famous that can carry off having only one name,’ she said, glancing at the nameplate above her bed that stated simply ‘Isobel’.

Isobel smiled at the statement as the detective squeezed her arm. ‘I’ll be back to check on you again, okay?’

Isobel nodded her thanks. She found the prospect reassuring.

With a final smile, the officer turned and walked away, her gait confident and assured.

Immediately the ward felt empty and dark, like a light had gone out.

Isobel had the sudden urge to shout after her to tell her she didn’t want her to go. She wanted to beg her to stay.

For just a short while, she had felt safe, as though nothing could reach into this ward and get her. But as the police officer walked away she felt exposed, vulnerable.

She realised that she would feel that way until the bastard was caught.





Sixty-Seven





‘How is she?’ Bryant asked as she got back into the car.

‘Looking better than yesterday. Despite her improvement I’ve asked the ward to hang on to her for a bit.’

‘You think she’s still at risk?’ he asked, pulling out of the car park.

Kim knew that the ratio of staff to patients dictated there was always someone close by. Unknown visitors did not get to walk around at any time of the day.

‘She’s not dead. So definitely not safe yet. Isobel keeps hearing the name Mandy,’ Kim said doubtfully. ‘I’ve already called Stacey to see what she can find, but it’s hard to know what’s real with her.’

‘Any nurses or staff members by that name?’ Bryant asked.

Kim shook her head. ‘No, I checked and no patients either.’

Bryant sighed. ‘Are you thinking we’re looking for another one, as well as Tracy?’

Kim tried to make sense of what she’d heard from Isobel. ‘If he had another one at the same time then where is she? We know that Westerley is his dumping ground so…’

‘Could be another old one, yet to be found.’

That was exactly what she’d been thinking.

‘Isobel also said something about one for you and one for me. She said it plays on a loop in her head.’

Kim sighed with frustration. The words meant nothing to her.

‘I can hear it,’ Bryant offered in a sing-song voice.

‘What?’ she asked.

‘That change in your voice. It’s very telling.’

Kim frowned at him. She wasn’t aware of any change in her voice.

‘It’s when a case stops being a case and becomes a personal mission.’

She shook her head and looked out of the window as the car headed towards Pedmore Road. ‘You really do talk some rubbish.’

‘It’s true. You begin each case with a desire to see justice done. Eventually, and it always comes, your motivation changes as you become more familiar with the victims and—’

‘Hang on, my visit to Isobel—’

‘Is not what I’m talking about, because I don’t only mean the living ones. It’s the same with the dead. You somehow manage to create an affinity and then the change occurs. You no longer want the killer for the sake of justice. Now it’s for Jemima, Louise, Isobel and even Tracy. It’s personal now. And your voice changes, that’s all I’m saying.’

Kim opened her mouth to argue and then had another thought as he drove along Reddall Hill towards Cradley Heath high street.

She turned to look at him. ‘How are you driving when I haven’t even told you where I want to go next?’

He pulled into the supermarket car park and nodded to the other side of the street. ‘Got a call from Stacey while you were in the hospital. Elsie Hinton, ex-dinner lady at Cornheath, works there.’

‘You know, it would be good to tell me these things as there’s a filthy rumour going around that I’m actually in charge,’ Kim snapped.

She was still smarting over his inference that she was emotionally involved.

She watched as he passed space after space in the supermarket car park.

‘Bryant, what the hell are you doing?’

‘Looking for a parent and baby spot.’

‘Just park the bloody car,’ she growled.

The café sat opposite the supermarket and was wedged between a family-run carpet shop and a building society. The area inside was small, holding six tables, but was brightly decorated with black-and-white photos of Cradley Heath high street on the wall.

The smell of bacon, sausage and coffee grew stronger as they approached the counter. Kim could tell immediately that neither of the women they could see was the one they were after.

‘Elsie Hinton?’ Bryant asked doubtfully.

‘Not here yet,’ said the younger woman. ‘And who are you?’

The question was direct but not rude.

‘We just need a word with her. Got an address?’

She smiled as though he’d tried to catch her out. ‘Nah, mate, not happening. She’ll be here in about ten minutes. Park yourselves if you want.’

Bryant looked to Kim and she nodded. She took a few steps back and sat beneath a photo of the old Christ Church that had once towered over the Five Ways intersection. It had been demolished to make way for an access road to the new supermarket.