The Sister(122)

It was already just after 3 p.m. Caulson had deferred their meeting until the afternoon and Brady was dreading it. After spending all day following up what little he had – every avenue had turned into a blind alleyway – he was just finishing his tea. He held the cup against the side of his face for warmth and comfort; an old habit picked up from his father, his thoughts about nothing in particular, when he experienced a eureka moment. Pulling the telephone towards him, he dialled a familiar telephone number. The operator came back to him.

‘I’m not getting an answer from that extension, is there anyone else who can help you?’

‘Can you try John Tanner?’

She put him through.

‘John, it’s Michael Brady.’

Through gritted teeth, he said, ‘What can I do for you?’

‘This is a long shot, but I don’t suppose for one minute you'd know if Kennedy owns a baseball bat.’





He knocked on the DCI’s door, just as he always did, even when expected. The DCI called, ‘Come in.’ He opened the door and stepped inside. Kennedy looked up from his desk. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes heavy. ‘You wanted to see me?’

Tanner rolled an empty chair back on its castors and sat down. ‘Your phone is off the hook.’

‘Yes, I know it is,’ he said, sounding weary.

‘Sir, have you ever owned a baseball bat?’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Of course, I have.’

‘Stars and Stripes, American style?’

‘Yes, I have one like that. Why are you asking?’

‘Did you carve your initials—?’

‘Tanner, stop pissing about. Get to the point.’

He took a deep breath and explained.

Kennedy couldn’t remember seeing the bat when he’d stayed with his parent’s recently. With a look of consternation, he picked up the telephone and dialled home.

‘Dad, can you look in my bedroom for me and see if my baseball bat is still there?’ He listened with incredulity. ‘You thought I had it? No, I left it there with the gloves and ball. Are they still there? They’re not? No, no – don’t worry, I must have misplaced them, that’s all – Yes – no, don’t worry – thanks, I’ll call you later – Yes, I will.’

Tanner looked at him expectantly.

‘Gone,’ he said. There was a thoughtful silence as the two men considered the implications. Finally, Tanner spoke, ‘Where were you on the night of—’

Flushed with anger, Kennedy slammed his hand down hard on the desk. ‘This is no time for joking.’

Tanner caught a glimpse of something else in his eyes. Just for a moment, he thought the chief looked afraid.





Chapter 106



When Bletchley’s DNA test results came back, they cleared him as a suspect in the Natasha Stone rape case.

They had to let him go; all along his lawyer had argued there was no evidence he actually intended to commit rape – he’d not gone equipped and was entitled to keep the items found within the confines of his own home for his own use if he chose to do so. The decision on whether to prosecute over the illegal possession of chloroform rested with the Director of Public Prosecutions.





Bletchley had waited a few days before returning to his original plan, reasoning the police would never suspect him after his earlier brief incarceration. I mean, who would be so stupid? After a few days of painstaking attention to detail, which included setting up alibis for the whole evening, he was at last ready. Dressed all in black, with a yellow fluorescent belt and shoulder strap underneath his outer clothes, he left the house and drove a short distance before parking the car. He stripped off his jacket and jeans and left them inside the car, looking for all intents and purposes like a jogger out for an early evening run.

At the time of his arrest, number twenty-eight on the list did not exist. She’d be home at 8 p.m. and he’d be waiting. Tonight, he wouldn’t just watch her through the windows; he would be inside her.

With fifteen minutes to go, he took up his position. From his vantage point, he’d see her get out of the car and walk to the front door. Once her key was in the lock, he’d pounce. Bletchley checked his watch, 7:47. He felt excitement building. Just a few more minutes.

A familiar voice suddenly spoke from behind. Kennedy!

‘You should have left it while you had the chance, you piece of shit.’ Bletchley froze, just long enough for a surge of adrenalin to kick through his body. His attempt at breaking into a sprint took too long. He did not move quickly enough to avoid the first blow and, after that, he was a sitting duck.





At just after 8 p.m., number twenty-eight found Bletchley’s battered body on her doorstep. Her screams quickly attracted the attention of her neighbours.





Chapter 107



‘It looks like we have another vigilante murder, this time on our doorstep.’

Kennedy regarded Tanner with disdain. ‘If that was an attempt at humour, it wasn’t funny.’

It took a moment for the penny to drop. ‘No, sir, of course it wasn’t.’ He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘Preliminary reports show he was beaten to death, just like the victims up North. He had bits of glove leather and a baseball rammed down his throat along with half his teeth while he was still alive by all accounts. The MO seems to indicate it could be the same guy.’