THE MURDERER'S SON a gripping crime thriller full of twists Read online

  ‘Who knows? Skye is convinced that Daniel won’t hurt her, but we’re not so sure anymore.’

  Guy placed his mug on the floor and leaned back. ‘This is my fault, isn’t it? If only I’d listened to you when I had Daniel here under my own roof, none of this would be happening.’

  ‘Forget it. Both Jackman and I agreed that we would have done the same thing if we’d been in your shoes.’ It wasn’t quite the truth, but they needed to move on. ‘So how did he seem to you? And what did you actually say to him?’

  They talked for about a quarter of an hour. At the end of it, Marie decided that Guy was reading far too much into what Daniel might have picked up from him. Daniel was flaky. He could have kicked off at the slightest thing.

  ‘Well, from what you’ve told me, I really don’t think you said anything that could have fed his delusions.’ Marie felt a resurgence of compassion. ‘And he scared you, didn’t he? I’m sure that’s why you are feeling so shaky.’

  Guy stared at his scarred hand and nodded. ‘When he went to push me, I froze. I knew it was only Daniel, and reason told me that he wasn’t going to hurt me, but hell, Marie, it could have been Paddington Bear coming for me and I’d still have freaked out.’

  Before she could reply, his mobile rang. He looked at the display. ‘It’s one of the directors of the new Frampton Unit. God knows what he wants at this hour, but I’d better take it.’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  Guy went out into the conservatory and Marie heard him speaking about some financial issue. She glanced at her watch. As soon as he was off the phone she’d make her escape. She smiled to herself. She hadn’t wanted to come here alone, but she thought she’d handled it rather well. Perhaps she was being a little hard on Guy Preston. After all, they did share a traumatic experience. Perhaps they just handled things in different ways. And she hadn’t been injured like Guy. She saw again the bleeding wound in his shocked face, and his hand skewered by Terence Marcus Austin’s makeshift weapon. She smiled at Guy Preston’s tall figure standing staring out into the dark garden and decided it was time to stop being a hard-arsed bitch and cut the man some slack.

  * * *

  Kevin Stoner poured a large splash of vodka into a shot glass. He felt drained. A great shadowy weight had lifted like a black shroud from his shoulders. Finally he had found the courage to open his heart to his father, and the bishop had suddenly been transformed into . . . his dad! They had talked together for over an hour.

  His inspector had been right. His father had known that he was gay, but had respected his son’s privacy. If Kevin wanted him to know about his sexuality, then he’d tell him in his own good time.

  Kevin had told his father as much as he dared about the reason for his suspension. His father had offered his unconditional support. The photographs were not mentioned. When Kevin left his parents’ home with a spring in his step, he had cursed himself for not coming out a very long while ago.

  Kevin took his drink through to the lounge and flopped down onto the sofa. He picked up the remote to his sound system and took a sip of vodka. Music flooded the room and relief coursed through him. He raised his glass and said, ‘Bon Voyage, Zane. Enjoy your new life inside.’ He let out a long, contented sigh. His only problem now was the fact that he’d been suspended, just as they had the biggest case that Saltern-Le-Fen had ever seen.

  He stood up, ambled to the kitchen and poured himself another shot. Tomorrow he would talk to his boss. He needed to know how long the process would take. He’d only been home a few hours but with Zane gone, he was already dying to get back into the thick of things. The Daniel Kinder case was huge, and he wanted to be part of it.

  Kevin sat down again, sipped his drink, and then a sudden thought struck him. A fragment of conversation from earlier that day came back to him. Just before leaving the station he had heard one of his colleagues talking to his crewmate about Drew Wilson and the foiled burglary. Wilson had apparently stated that they had sent a lookout in first to make sure that everything was on track, the scout had signalled them by mobile phone, and the rest of the gang had brought the lorry in.

  Kevin blinked. But that wasn’t right, was it? As he had hidden in the bus shelter waiting to blow the whistle on them, he had seen two men go into the grounds of the Kinder property. He closed his eyes and thought hard. He had wondered about it at the time, but then the truck had pulled in and the robbery was about to get underway, and he had forgotten all about it. And that wasn’t all. He had also heard that one of the police squad who went in after Drew Wilson had believed that it was Daniel Kinder who made the anonymous call. And why? Because he was certain he had seen Kinder slip out of the gardens as they arrived.

  Kevin tried to sort out his thoughts with another slug of vodka.

  So had he seen Daniel Kinder that night? It was possible. The figure had the right height, the right build. If he had, then Kinder had not been asleep at Skye’s place at all. He had been out on the streets, and hence had no alibi for the time when Sue Bannister was murdered. ‘Oh fuck,’ he murmured softly. How was he going to let CID know about that vital piece of evidence without dropping himself straight in the shit?

  Kevin stood up and began to pace. As he did, another thought hit him. If it was Daniel that he saw, where had he been when the gang arrived? And how had he managed to avoid them and then escape unnoticed? When Kevin had seen the man enter, he was heading in the direction of the path that led to the back garden. He frowned. Maybe he had been in that covered spa area where the hot tub was housed. It was a chalet-style wooden structure with a bar, pool table and comfortable seating. And it wasn’t on Zane Prewett’s list of rooms that contained valuables, so it wouldn’t have been of interest to Drew Wilson’s gang.

  Kevin’s copper’s brain accelerated into top gear. So why was Daniel Kinder going there? To hide a murder weapon? To conceal bloodstained clothes?

  Kevin slowly sat back down and drew in a deep, shaky breath. He needed to share this information with the detectives, but how the hell could he do it without losing the job that he was already only hanging onto by the skin of his teeth?

  He could think of only one thing to do, and that was to go and check out the chalet himself. That way he’d know for sure whether it was worth risking his career.

  Kevin stood up. Time to put his dark clothes back on. He wasn’t happy about it, but if it meant catching a killer, then he had no choice.

  * * *

  As Marie waited for Guy to finish his call, she checked out the apartment. Apart from what she had already seen, there appeared to be two double bedrooms off the wide hallway, probably both with en suite showers, a bathroom, and a small office. The door to this stood open, showing a desk with a computer, printer, and more packing boxes.

  Marie wished that Guy would hurry up. Impatiently she stood up, picked up the empty coffee mugs and took them into the kitchen. She really didn’t have time for this.

  She located the dishwasher and popped the two mugs inside. She gave a little smile when she saw it filled with coffee mugs. Guy really wasn’t into cooking.

  Glancing at her watch, she decided that she couldn’t wait for Guy to finish his call. She would just grab her helmet and wave to him, saying she’d ring him when they heard something.

  As she moved out of the kitchen she saw Guy putting his phone back in his pocket. There was a preoccupied look on his face, and she wondered if all was well with his new project.

  ‘Sorry that took so long. The finance director of Frampton has no regard for what time it is. I guessed from your pacing that you need to be getting away.’

  ‘I do.’ Marie took up her crash helmet and slipped it over her arm. ‘And I’m sure you have nothing to worry about regarding what Daniel might have assumed.’

  Guy nodded and turned towards her. ‘I do appreciate you coming here. I don’t think anyone else would have understood why I was so freaked out by Daniel shoving me down a bank.’ He paused, then added, ‘But then I always could t
alk to you.’

  Marie turned to go. ‘No problem. Look, I’ll ring you if we find Daniel or Skye. And you must ring me if you hear from them, okay?’

  ‘I will. I promise.’ He walked past her to the door. ‘I’ll let you out. I need to buzz you through the front security door.’ He lightly touched her arm, and the hand lingered just a little too long. ‘And thanks for understanding.’ He looked at her with an odd bleakness, then moved towards the security keypad. As he did, Marie leaned forward and pecked his cheek with a fleeting kiss. ‘You have to let the past go, Guy. You’re an unbelievably brilliant psychologist, but don’t they say, “Physician, heal thyself?” When this is over, take your new position at Frampton and build a new life. Move on from Terence Marcus Austin.’ She paused, silently adding, and from me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Jackman stood in the doorway to the recovery suite, fretting. It was taking much longer than he had anticipated to bring Lisa Hurley round. Twice, the doctor had come out to him and apologised for the delay. Lisa was out of the woods, but she hadn’t taken the anaesthetic well and needed considerably more aftercare than they had expected.

  At last, as midnight approached, a thin-faced nurse beckoned to him.

  ‘You can come in now, Inspector. Just a few minutes to begin with. She needs rest, then she’ll be able to talk to you properly.’

  Jackman breathed a sigh of relief and hurried forward. What he wanted from her would not take long. Someone else could sit with her and get the finer details. He only had three important questions. He sat down by the bed, close to her side.

  ‘Do you know who did this to you, Lisa?’

  The woman swallowed painfully. ‘No. He wore those things.’ She pointed to one of the theatre assistants who stood a little way away talking animatedly to a nurse. ‘Scrubs. Hospital greens, with a face mask.’

  Jackman’s face creased into a confused frown. So was the hospital really at the heart of all this? ‘Was there anything else you noticed about him? Height or build? Eye colour? A particular cologne?

  ‘I was running for my life, Inspector. I didn’t stop to take notes.’ She attempted a smile, then sighed and said, ‘I was certain that it was going to be Daniel. Skye had said he was going into fugue states, and that he was worried he might be violent. Then I saw him in some kind of stupor myself, and I was convinced that she was in danger. I was terrified for her.’

  ‘So you tried to trap him?’

  ‘She rang me and told me you were about to come and collect her, as you’d arranged a video call to Ruby Kinder. So I knew that she would be out of the house, but Daniel didn’t. I tried to make it look as if she was at home and in the shower. And then I waited.’

  ‘And Skye is your natural daughter?’

  Lisa’s eyes opened wide. ‘How did you know that?’ Her eyes darted around the room.

  ‘Hush, it’s okay. No one else knows. You told us yourself, just before they took you to theatre. They’d given you morphine for the pain, so I guess that’s what did it.’

  ‘Oh no! I don’t believe it. But you can’t tell her, please, Inspector! Don’t tell Skye. She mustn’t find out, it would ruin everything.’

  Jackman glanced around too, hoping her outburst hadn’t attracted attention. ‘That’s not our business, Lisa. I won’t be saying anything.’ Not that I could anyway, she’s bloody well missing, he thought morosely.

  The nurse gave Jackman a warning look and held up three fingers. Three minutes.

  ‘Lisa? Did your attacker have a dressing on his forearm, or a recently stitched wound?’

  Lisa frowned. ‘No. I didn’t see much, but I would have noticed that because the tunic top had short sleeves.’

  So it wasn’t Daniel, thought Jackman. And if it wasn’t, who was it? He closed his eyes and tried to think. They needed to find Mark Dunand. And with Skye still missing, Jackman’s fears were mounting by the second.

  ‘You get some rest, Lisa. We’ll talk again, but right now I need to get back.’

  She sank back into her pillows. ‘One thing, Inspector.’ Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. ‘I tried to hit him with a cast-iron frying pan. I think I only winded him, but it must have hurt.’

  ‘Where did you hit him?’

  ‘I aimed for his head, but he moved and I’m not sure where I made contact.’

  Jackman gave her a reassuring smile. ‘We’ll get him, Lisa. And we’ll have police officers here with you constantly, so don’t worry. Just get well.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me. You concentrate on keeping Skye safe.’ She closed her eyes.

  Jackman leaned forward, squeezed her hand and moved away from the bed. After a few words with the two constables who were going to keep watch, he hurried from the recovery ward and out into the night. He found Marie’s number on his phone and breathed a sigh of relief when she answered almost immediately. He told her briefly what Lisa had said, then asked her how long she would be.

  ‘I’m just leaving Guy’s place now. I’ll be back to base in ten.’ She paused, and added, ‘And just to let you know, I’m certain Guy never said anything to upset Daniel, okay?’

  ‘Okay, Marie. See you soon.’

  Jackman flipped his phone shut, and as he ran towards his car he prayed that they would find Mark Dunand before Dunand found Skye.

  * * *

  Once again Kevin Stoner stood in the graffiti-covered bus shelter and watched the Kinder house. This time a squad car was parked out front, although the occupants seemed happy to remain inside it.

  He was in no rush. He knew that he had only one stab at this, and he couldn’t afford to get caught. If he found anything incriminating, then he would decide on the proper course of action to take. As he prepared for his late night sortie, he was confident that he would find a murder weapon, bloodstained clothing, or maybe even Daniel Kinder himself.

  Kevin decided that the crew in the car were there for the long haul. And as he knew there would be officers patrolling the river walk along the back of the properties, he needed to find an alternative way in.

  He stared at the front gardens and devised a plan. There were only two things that could cock his idea up, and there was little he could do about dogs loose in the gardens or concealed sensor lights. He had not heard barking either tonight or on his previous visit, and no surrounding lights had gone on when Drew Wilson and his gang had arrived. So, he’d better get on with it.

  A slight bend in the road concealed his dark figure from the police car, and in a few seconds he was safely hidden in a small area of conifers in the front garden of a house three down from Daniel’s.

  Luck stayed with him as he moved over low walls and through shrubbery, until he was in the garden next door. Between this and the Kinder place was a sturdy wooden fence. He surmised that it was about five feet high, as he could just see over it and get a fairly good idea of the layout in front of him.

  Kevin tested the strength of the wood, and was grateful that the residents had paid for quality. He was slim, but years of swimming had given him considerable upper body strength. He breathed in, flexed his arms, grasped the top of the fence and pulled himself up and over in one fluid movement.

  He landed almost silently in a bed of ground cover plants, and without glancing round, sprinted across a few yards of neglected flowerbed and into a thick cluster of trees. There he sank down on one knee and did a quick recce.

  The house was in total darkness but in the garden, filtered light from the street lamps lit up some areas while others were pools of black. Kevin followed the black areas around the house and out of sight of the road.

  He was moderately certain that there would be no one stationed on watch in the back garden. There would certainly be two cars observing both the entrance and the exit to the river walk, and officers would patrol the lane every so often, but the river formed a barrier between the walk and the rest of the town.

  A weak moon, shrouded in thin wispy cloud helped him make his way across the garden, and
in moments he was on the patio outside the timber chalet that housed the hot tub.

  Kevin slipped into a narrow space between a brick-built barbecue and a high, open-fronted log store and took stock. The hot tub area was like a three-sided chalet, the front being a run of folding doors that could be pushed right back to open the tub to the garden. In front of the doors was a spacious decking area and adjoining that, the patio where he now was. The chalet itself was attached to the house and from his hiding place, and in the strengthening moonlight, Kevin could vaguely make out two doors at the back of the long, spacious room. He also saw a bar, a pool table, bar stools, several reclining sun-loungers, large potted palms, and another wooden cabin close to one side of the tub, something that he supposed was a sauna.

  For one horrible moment he had a mental picture of Zane Prewett and some big-breasted women cavorting in the steamy water. He watched the room for some ten minutes, but heard nothing and saw no movement inside. There was a small personnel door in the side of the chalet. It might be unlocked, people got blasé about things like that. Hoping that he wouldn’t have to force the lock, he crept from his hideout and across the wide expanse of decking.

  He stopped at the door and tentatively grasped the handle. It turned easily, and Kevin Stoner stole silently inside.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jackman entered the CID room and was immediately set upon by Charlie Button and Max Cohen.

  ‘It’s coming together, sir. We’ve made a few finds regarding the dead women.’ Charlie’s expression was wide-eyed and eager, despite the midnight hour.

  ‘Yeah.’ Max didn’t look quite so awake, but his brain clearly was. ‘Sue Bannister’s old man was having an affair with a young nurse, and Sue found out.’

  Charlie took over. ‘She was absolutely gutted but couldn’t face seeing the family GP. A friend of hers has told us that she confessed to “seeking help elsewhere,” as the friend put it.’

  ‘And did this friend know where she obtained that help?’