cold. The front door was open like an oblong slice of darkness in the front of the building. I stood before it, and with the sound of a crow squawking in the distance, I shone my torch into the darkness.
The floor was covered in mounds of bricks and rubble and there were several old beer cans and broken bottles littered about. I didn’t need to be in CID to realise that the discarded syringes said this place had been frequented in the past by drug users – Lane and co. There was a scratching sound in the corner. As my eyes became accustomed to the gloom I saw a long black shape scurry along the back wall.
Rats! I hated them. Copper or not, I made my way from the abandoned house and back down the path. I hadn’t gone far when I looked back, and already the old building was barely visible through the trees. All I could make out was that tumbled-down chimney sticking up from the roof like a broken finger.
I reached the end of the path and got back on the dirt track. I looked left and could see my car parked several yards away. Unless you knew the location well, you would never have known about that tiny path that wound its way up the hill. Whoever had dragged Kerry to her death must have been local. They would’ve known about that hidden path. Lane would have known about it. Myheart began to sink in my chest.
Perhaps Jackson had been right about him. If I’d never met Charley then I would be thinking just like Jackson. Lane would be my prime suspect too. But I had met her and she had told me something different, and I just couldn’t shake that off no matter how hard I tried.
Back in my car, I pulled my mobile from my pocket. The screen on the front flickered into life then died. I tapped it against the dashboard. The phone hadn’t worked properly in months and I knew I needed to get a new one. But it was one of those ‘pay as you go’ phones and was cheap. I liked cheap – when it worked. I hit the phone harder against the dashboard and it flickered into life.
I texted Charley. Even before I’d hit ‘Send’ I’d decided to bring Charley back out to the crime scene.
But was it a crime scene? I wondered, driving back to my flat for some much needed sleep. Had a crime been committed?
Perhaps Charley would be able to help.
CHAPTER 11
Charley – Tuesday: 01.13 Hrs.
I lay on my bed, feeling too numb to move or to even sleep. To hear that my mum had killed herself by being hit by a train just like Natalie and Kerry was like being punched in the stomach. I closed my eyes and all I could see was my father slowly walking away from me.
‘You can’t just tell me that and walk away,’ I’d called after him.
‘I never wanted to tell you, Charley,’ he said, pausing by the door to look back at me. ‘I wanted you to believe your mum had taken some tablets and fallen asleep. It was never my intention to let you know that your mum had … Well, you know now, so no more secrets.’
‘But why?’ I’d asked looking at him. ‘Why did she do it?’
‘Why did she drink so much?’ he shrugged. ‘Why would I come home from work and find you screaming in your cot, with the samenappy on that you’d been wearing when I’d left for work eight hours earlier? Why was your mum crashed out on the sofa? Why did she have to climb into a bottle of vodka every day? I don’t really know the answer to any of those questions even though they’ve haunted me for the last eleven years.’
‘You make her sound like a monster,’ I whispered, my heart feeling as if it had been crushed underfoot.
‘No, Charley, your mum wasn’t a monster,’ he said, still looking at me from the doorway. ‘Your mum was sick – she had an illness …’
‘But didn’t she love me?’ I asked, unable to stop my lower lip from trembling however hard I bit into it. ‘I’ve always wondered that. If Mum had loved me, she would never have left me.’
I could see he was struggling to find the right words.
‘Like I said,’ he sighed, ‘it
The floor was covered in mounds of bricks and rubble and there were several old beer cans and broken bottles littered about. I didn’t need to be in CID to realise that the discarded syringes said this place had been frequented in the past by drug users – Lane and co. There was a scratching sound in the corner. As my eyes became accustomed to the gloom I saw a long black shape scurry along the back wall.
Rats! I hated them. Copper or not, I made my way from the abandoned house and back down the path. I hadn’t gone far when I looked back, and already the old building was barely visible through the trees. All I could make out was that tumbled-down chimney sticking up from the roof like a broken finger.
I reached the end of the path and got back on the dirt track. I looked left and could see my car parked several yards away. Unless you knew the location well, you would never have known about that tiny path that wound its way up the hill. Whoever had dragged Kerry to her death must have been local. They would’ve known about that hidden path. Lane would have known about it. Myheart began to sink in my chest.
Perhaps Jackson had been right about him. If I’d never met Charley then I would be thinking just like Jackson. Lane would be my prime suspect too. But I had met her and she had told me something different, and I just couldn’t shake that off no matter how hard I tried.
Back in my car, I pulled my mobile from my pocket. The screen on the front flickered into life then died. I tapped it against the dashboard. The phone hadn’t worked properly in months and I knew I needed to get a new one. But it was one of those ‘pay as you go’ phones and was cheap. I liked cheap – when it worked. I hit the phone harder against the dashboard and it flickered into life.
I texted Charley. Even before I’d hit ‘Send’ I’d decided to bring Charley back out to the crime scene.
But was it a crime scene? I wondered, driving back to my flat for some much needed sleep. Had a crime been committed?
Perhaps Charley would be able to help.
CHAPTER 11
Charley – Tuesday: 01.13 Hrs.
I lay on my bed, feeling too numb to move or to even sleep. To hear that my mum had killed herself by being hit by a train just like Natalie and Kerry was like being punched in the stomach. I closed my eyes and all I could see was my father slowly walking away from me.
‘You can’t just tell me that and walk away,’ I’d called after him.
‘I never wanted to tell you, Charley,’ he said, pausing by the door to look back at me. ‘I wanted you to believe your mum had taken some tablets and fallen asleep. It was never my intention to let you know that your mum had … Well, you know now, so no more secrets.’
‘But why?’ I’d asked looking at him. ‘Why did she do it?’
‘Why did she drink so much?’ he shrugged. ‘Why would I come home from work and find you screaming in your cot, with the samenappy on that you’d been wearing when I’d left for work eight hours earlier? Why was your mum crashed out on the sofa? Why did she have to climb into a bottle of vodka every day? I don’t really know the answer to any of those questions even though they’ve haunted me for the last eleven years.’
‘You make her sound like a monster,’ I whispered, my heart feeling as if it had been crushed underfoot.
‘No, Charley, your mum wasn’t a monster,’ he said, still looking at me from the doorway. ‘Your mum was sick – she had an illness …’
‘But didn’t she love me?’ I asked, unable to stop my lower lip from trembling however hard I bit into it. ‘I’ve always wondered that. If Mum had loved me, she would never have left me.’
I could see he was struggling to find the right words.
‘Like I said,’ he sighed, ‘it
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