Cruel Justice (DI Lorne Simpkins (Book one)) (29 page)

"Toni's not here," the fat woman said, through a mouthful of doughnut.

"We'll wait for her," Lorne said and wandered around the office.

Toni marched in ten minutes or so later, looking surprised to see them.

"Inspector, sergeant. What can I do for you?"

"We've arrested Wacko, but we're still continuing our enquiries. Pete called on John Scott the other day only to find he'd moved on, six months ago, it would be great if you had a current address for him."

"You can't be serious. I would never have thought that of Wacko. Jesus, that poor girl." Toni dropped in the nearest chair and the colour drained from her face.

"We've actually arrested him on four counts of murder. What about John Scott's address?" Lorne said.

Shaking her head, Toni walked over to where Mary sat. As usual the controller gave the impression she wasn't listening. Lorne suspected the woman was soaking everything up like a sponge.

"Mary, what's John's new address?" Toni said.

"Haven't a clue."

"How many times do I have to tell you it's vital to keep personal information up to date? Is he on duty at the moment?"

"No. His address is around here somewhere, I just haven't had time to update his file."

Toni shook her head as she hunted through the pile of crap on the controller's desk. "At last. Here it is, 26 Clearmont Rd."

Lorne picked up on the glare Mary gave her boss. After thanking Toni, the two detectives stepped outside and sucked in a lungful of fresh air.

They pulled up outside number twenty-six as a man came out the front door. He froze when he saw them coming up the front steps of the large bay-fronted Victorian house.
Hmm … convenient, Lorne thought, has someone tipped him off?

"John Scott, we'd like a quick word. Mind if we come in?" Pete asked, stepping to within inches of him.

The man appeared surprised by Pete's abruptness. His hand shook as he placed his key in the lock. The old Parker jacket he wore had a tear under the right arm. Once inside he removed his jacket and laid it carefully along the edge of the sofa. His five-foot-nine inches seemed to shrivel under the detectives' gaze. His shoulders slouched and he dug his hands deeply into the pockets of his jeans. He had on an old-fashioned woollen tank-top, the type a devoted aunt would knit a favourite relative. Underneath the tank-top he wore a short-sleeved blue and white striped shirt that had a threadbare collar.

Although the furniture was old and worn, the flat was meticulously clean and tidy. Lorne walked into the room and tripped over a tiny lump in the rug. John Scott's gaze travelled with her. When she ran an inquisitive finger across the highly-polished mahogany mantel she was amazed to find it dust free. An old gas fire served as the only form of heating in the relatively large room. The large maroon coloured rug, she'd previously tripped over, covered rough looking floorboards that showed signs of careless decorating around its edges. A tatty old painting of a galleon ship hung proudly on the chimney breast over the fire.

Under the man's scrutiny, Lorne picked up a cheap imitation brass frame that showed signs of discolouration along one edge. In it was a photograph of John Scott with a woman. The couple were cuddling each other on a pier somewhere.
Is she a girlfriend, wife, a relative or just a friend
?

John looked about twenty years younger and the woman looked vaguely familiar. Lorne studied the man and then the photograph. When her gaze returned to Scott he was smirking. His eyes widened daring her to challenge him. She didn't. She felt strangely unnerved by the encounter, but why?

While Lorne took in her surroundings, Pete bombarded the man with questions. He'd assured Pete that he'd never met Kim Charlton, he'd told him that Wacko told the drivers to back off and only he was to pick the girl up.

Lorne shuddered when they left the flat and a cloud of uneasiness lingered. "Jesus, what a freak. Did you see the way he was looking at me? You asked him if he lived alone, didn't you, Pete?"

"Maybe he fancied ya." Pete laughed and Lorne shuddered again, "Yeah, he told me he lived alone, why?"

She pondered before answering him. "That's strange because I think there's evidence of a woman's touch in that room. How many guys do you know who dust every day, or plump up the cushions on their couch after they've sat on it?"

"You've got a point, not many. I know I ain't got time to do it. Maybe he's got a cleaner."

"Highly unlikely. I don't suppose you noticed the scratches he had on his neck either, did you?"

"Don't suppose I did, no," Pete admitted, tartly.

Lorne's phone rang. "DI Simpkins."

"Hello, ma'am it's Tracy."

"Yes, Tracy, what's up?" Lorne picked up how nervous her colleague sounded.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am but you're needed back at base ASAP."

"Enlighten me?"

"Umm … It's important ma'am."

"I understand, Tracy. ETA ten minutes."

Lorne's heart raced and an ominous feeling swept through her.

Chapter Forty-Three

They barged through the swing doors of the incident room, both gasping for breath. The two distraught children sitting at Tracy's desk immediately caught Lorne's attention.

Tracy hurried towards her and filled her in.

"They arrived about an hour ago, ma'am. We've rung their parents, they're on their way. We haven't asked any questions yet, not until the parents arrive."

"I don't understand, Tracy. What's going on?"

"Sorry, ma'am I should've said. The little ones ran into the station screaming. Apparently their teacher called for a cab, she was going to drop them off on the way home. Out of the blue the teacher said something to the driver. The kids said he blew his top and struck out at her. The kids got scared and jumped out of the car when he pulled over. They started shouting to draw attention to themselves and the driver sped off with the teacher still inside. They knew the station was close by and came here straight away to tell us. Up 'till now we've given them a drink and called for a doctor to check them over."

"Jesus, have they said anything? Like what type of car it was?" Lorne looked over at the kids.

"I tried to ask them without it sounding like I was questioning them, ma'am and the girl thought it was dark green but the boy seemed pretty sure it was a black Peugeot."

"Good girl. Ring Toni's Taxis, make sure you only talk to Toni, no one else. Ask her what type of car John Scott drives."

"Right away, ma'am."

Lorne wandered over to the children and smiled broadly at them. "How are you two doing? I gather you've had a bad day." She pulled up a chair and sat between them, Pete stood behind, notebook at the ready.

The children were about eleven. The girl had swollen red eyes and was fiddling with a tissue in her lap. The boy had a glazed look in his eyes as if he was reliving his ordeal in his mind.

Before the kids had a chance to answer, a WPC brought in the girl's frantic parents. The mother hugged her daughter as tears ran down her face. "Sharon, my God … Thank goodness you're safe."

"Don't fuss, Mum, I'll be all right. But the man … he took Miss Sedark. What's going to happen to her?" The young girl's eyes pleaded with Lorne for the answer.

"The more you can tell us, Sharon, the quicker we can find Miss Sedark. Do you know why the man hit your teacher?"

"He picked us up from school. She lives around the corner from us and sometimes gives us a lift. At first he was quite chatty and he asked Miss Sedark how long she'd been a teacher at school. She said about thirty years. Then the man kept asking her questions like, did she remember this and that from years ago?" the girl paused.

Lorne said quietly, "Then what happened?"

The girl let out a long breath and said, "Miss Sedark said she remembered the man — that was when he hit her. Lee and I jumped out of the car when the driver pulled over. I made as much noise as I could, Mum, just like you told me to, and no one came to help us. We knew the station was just round the corner so we ran all the way. But he's still got Miss Sedark, Mum. We couldn't get to her."

The girl's mother hugged her again. "There, there love, you did the right thing. So you do listen to your old mum after all? I'm so proud of you, sweetheart."

"I know this must be hard for you, Sharon, but was Miss Sedark still conscious, I mean awake after the man hit her?" Lorne leaned forward and rested her elbows on her thighs.

"No. I don't know if she was unconscious or dead," the girl replied, as a sob caught in her throat.

The doctor performed a brief exam and concluded that both kids were suffering from a touch of shock, but felt they were tough enough characters not to have any lasting side effects.

Lee's parents arrived soon after, which meant that Lorne could direct her questions to both children now. "Can you describe the driver to us?"

"He had brown hair …" Lee said, before Sharon cut him off.

"No, I'm sure it was blond."

"How old would you say he was?" Lorne smiled at the kids.

"I'd say he was about forty," Sharon said, and this time Lee agreed with her.

"Did he have an accent or do you think he was from around here?"

"He was definitely from around here, 'cos he said Miss Sedark taught him years ago." Sharon said, looking pleased with herself.

Lorne stood up and took Pete to one side. "Look into John Scott's background, find out which school he went to, and when. See if he's got any siblings too, will you, Pete? Jesus, I've just thought of something, Scott lives in Clearmont Rd."

Pete looked puzzled and then the penny dropped. "It backs onto the railway line. Shit. You're right, it's gotta be him."

Before Lorne could respond, Tracy interrupted them. "John Scott drives a black Peugeot, ma'am. He was due to start work at five. Guess what, he neglected to turn up."

"Is Wacko still in custody?" Lorne asked the Sergeant.

"He is."

"Do you know if Dr Arnaud rang the Chief?"

"I haven't got a clue, ma'am. I could find out for you."

"No, it's okay, Tracy, I'll go and see the Chief myself after I've finished with the kids."

"I'll crack on, see what I can dig up on J.S.," Pete walked towards his desk.

"Tracy, you come with me, we'll take down the kids' statements. I don't want to keep them hanging around here any longer than necessary, they've had a traumatic day."

* * * *

Chief Roberts arrived as Lorne was recapping Sharon's statement with her.

"Can I have a word, Inspector?" he asked abruptly.

"I'm just about finished here, anyway. Thanks for all your help, Sharon, now go home and get some rest. I don't want you worrying about Miss Sedark. You have my word that we'll find her, okay."

"What's going on? Why wasn't I informed of this incident the minute it occurred? Why did I have to hear about it from my secretary?" Roberts demanded, anger making his mouth twitch.

"It all happened so quickly, sir. I didn't have time to tell you."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you, Inspector. Was it your idea to rush Wacko's prints over to forensics? I've had an irate pathologist on the phone, some guy with a French accent. He told me in no uncertain terms, he believes we're holding the wrong man for these murders. I smell a rat. Did you have anything to do with that call, Inspector?"

"First of all, we found prints at a couple of the scenes. I thought it only right we should check those prints against Wacko's. They didn't match. I didn't think they would. We've carried out all the relevant background checks on the guy and nothing untoward has popped up. His alibi checked out. This guy's so innocent he hasn't even had a shit in the wrong place. If he had, I'd know about it." Her voice rose out of frustration. "Secondly, I
didn't
tell Dr Arnaud to ring you. It's his responsibility to ensure he gives us the evidence he finds. He also, presumably, wants to make sure
innocent
people don't get thrown in prison due to aggressive policing."

"When you've quite finished, Inspector. It'd be wise for you to adopt a more respectful tone when you're speaking to a superior officer. I realise our situation must be unsettling for you, but the fact remains, that's exactly what I am,
your
superior. Do I make myself clear?" His eyes widened and the angry twitch grew more intense.

"As clear as a nun's conscience, sir." Lorne said.

"What happened to the kids?" the chief asked sternly.

"Before I answer that, I'd like to know if I'm still the leading investigator on this case?"

"Have I told you otherwise?"

"No, but you ordered me to take the weekend off at a crucial time in the case."

"I think you'll find that decision was down to my predecessor. Although, I did agree with his decision. We hoped giving you the time off would flush the killer out into the open."

Holding back her temper, she said, "Are you aware he contacted me at home and his car was seen driving away from my house? Had I remained on duty over the weekend as planned, maybe, just maybe my family wouldn't have been put at risk."

Roberts, now looking sheepish cleared his throat and said, "It was a regrettable mistake and I can only apologise for the way things have turned out. Are Tom and your daughter all right?"

"Tom and I decided it'd be better if he and Charlie stayed at his mum's for a while. At least until we've caught the killer." She hoped the lie convinced him.

"Good idea. Look, I'll let Wacko go but you need to bring in other suspects. Have you got any solid ones, yet?" he asked, mellowing for the first time since his return.

"Just the one. Pete and I questioned one of the taxi drivers today, John Scott. Just being in the same room as him gave me the willies." Lorne explained what happened and how she felt when Scott's eyes followed her around the room. "Pete's in the process of looking into his past now." He nodded, and Lorne felt he was, at last, taking her seriously. "One final thing, when we were at Scott's house I noticed some scratches on his neck. One of the victims, Doreen Nicholls, fought with her attacker, the pathologist found samples of skin, from the assailant, under her fingernails."