Deadly Focus (29 page)

‘I can’t fight them, can I?’ he asked Dawn, speaking once again as if Dylan didn’t exist. Dawn was controlled and remained silent.

‘But armed with a weapon, even a gun, you could have dealt with them easily. It didn’t have to be the kids, did it, Harold?’ Dylan was adamant he was going to make him talk to him.

‘I’ve told you once, why,’ Little snapped. He spoke through gritted teeth, his mouth hardly moving. Once again, it was directed towards Dawn.

‘So you picked on somebody small, a defenceless child, an easy target to hurt, to kill. You’re nothing but a bully.’ Dylan goaded him, enjoying every minute of his discomfort. ‘You just wanted to kill children, didn’t you? This is you wanting to become a big man isn’t it? The school incidents are just a lame excuse.’

Harold slammed his clenched fists on the desk ‘No,’ he shouted. ‘I wasn’t, I was kind. I hit them hard so they wouldn’t feel anything. They didn’t suffer like I had. It was Trevor and Martin that I wanted to suffer.’

‘But Christopher did suffer. He didn’t die till you hanged him. He died from hanging. That’s no pleasant death, is it?’

Little’s nostrils flared. His eyes were piercing as he looked at Dylan. He pushed his neck out and his head lunged forward in an attempt to frighten Dylan off. Dylan didn’t flinch. He sat perfectly still and stared him out.

‘He was unconscious,’ Little said, retreating back into his seat. ‘Knowing that would make it worse for his dad.’ He appeared to revel in that fact. His voice had become deeper, more aggressive, and more sinister.

‘Worse for his dad, or just more pleasing for you to have that feeling of power, Harold, which one was it? Where did you get the rope from, Harold?’ Dylan continued.

‘Work. The property store. Right from under your bloody noses,’ he sniggered.

‘You pulled out his brace and smeared dog dirt in Christopher’s face. That was just pure evil.’ Dylan could smell the excrement as if it were right under his nostrils.

‘No. It was necessary.’ Harold was calm, defiant in his reply.

‘Necessary? How could it be necessary? Necessary for what?’ Dylan demanded from him.

Dylan could see Little squirming, shrinking visibly before his eyes into the wizened, evil, little man he was.

‘I wanted his dad to see the dog shit. I wanted him to smell it on his son. To know what it was like for me.’ Little sneered at Dylan with pure malice.

‘You must have been planning this for some time, from before the reunion?’ Dylan questioned.

‘I’d thought about it,’ he admitted. ‘But seeing them again, laughing at me made me realise ….’

‘And the sock, you kept it in the store in a bag labelled “Wilkinson”?’

‘Under your very noses again, yeah,’ he sniggered.

‘But you didn’t expect us to find it yet, did you?’

‘Wasn’t bothered.’ He shrugged his shoulders. He was indignant.

‘Yes, you were, or you wouldn’t have hidden it.’

Harold didn’t reply.

‘So what about Trevor’s daughter, Daisy? You obviously planned that as well.’

He didn’t reply to Dylan’s question.

‘Do you know, Harold, little Daisy was going to be a bridesmaid for the first time. That little girl was so happy, and you killed her, you killed her for something that happened years ago.’

Little remained silent.

‘They may have made your life hell, but you still have a life. You’re a grown man, for god’s sake.’

Dylan appealed to him. He didn’t make a sound.

‘Come on. What’s Pauline going to say when she finds out that you stripped a little girl naked after you killed her? And then because you’d got away with that, you murdered a little boy.’ Dylan tried to rile him, to get a reaction and it worked.

‘Leave her out of it, do you hear me?’ he snarled, breaking his silence with aggression. ‘You understand, don’t you, Sergeant?’ he said softly as he turned again to Dawn.

‘No, I don’t, Harold. Inspector Dylan is right and Pauline has a right to know what kind of man she’s married to. Do you know what I think? You’ve killed for the sake of killing. You’ve read about murders and then you thought you’d do it, but it could only be with children because you’re a coward and you’re a bully, a far greater bully than the others ever were.’ Dawn spat the words at Little. The ally he must have thought he had in Dawn had just deserted him and he must have known at that moment she’d just been playing a game with him to get him to talk to her. He was raging. He jumped up from his chair.

‘You think you’re dead smart, don’t you? You think you’re always right, but you’re not. You’re just arrogant,’ he spat on the desk. His solicitor jumped. ‘Police,’ he shouted as he spat again.

‘Sit down,’ Dylan told him.

‘Are you going to make me? I’ll kill your kids.’ Harold glared at Dylan.

Brenda raised her hand and intervened. ‘Sit back down, please, Harold,’ she said, trying to calm him.

‘Do you actually care about your wife?’ asked Dylan.

‘My wife?’ His eyebrows raised, he looked surprised at the question.

‘Yes, do you actually care about her?’ Dylan asked again. ‘What will she think of you?’

‘It doesn’t matter what she thinks now, does it?’

‘Where’re Daisy’s clothes?’ asked Dylan.

Little didn’t reply.

‘Why the plastic bag over her head?’

‘Recycling,’ he laughed.

‘Don’t you feel sorry for the children at all?’ questioned Dylan.

‘Did anyone feel sorry for me?’ Little pulled his hands through his greasy hair, obviously exasperated by the intensity of the questions being fired at him.

‘So all your planning, scheming, watching and waiting were all about revenge?’

‘What do they say? He who laughs last, laughs longest,’ Little whispered with a smirk upon his face.

‘You’ve shown no remorse whatsoever for killing two children. Now, looking back, don’t you have any feelings at all?’ asked Dawn.

‘No.’ His voice was matter-of-fact. ‘It’s my turn now.’ He raised his upper torso in defiance as he spoke directly to her.

‘Will you still be laughing when people see you as a horrible, evil, child murderer? Everyone will hate you. Is that what you wanted?’ said Dawn.

He made no reply.

‘Why keep the murder weapon in your van? You reckon to be so organised, why didn’t you destroy it?’ Dylan asked.

He made no reply.

‘Your school days were nowhere near as bad as you made out, were they, Harold? You’ve just tried to find excuses for being a coward, a child murderer. The school reunion was just your evil way of selecting innocent children to murder,’ Dawn said keeping up the pressure.

Harold Little jumped to his feet. ‘I’m sick of listening to you now,’ he raged.

‘No, you’re just annoyed because you’ve been caught and don’t like to hear the truth. You thought people would feel sorry for you. What they did to you at school does not justify killing two little children thirty years later. You’re an evil killer. Is that Harold Wilkinson-Little leaving his mark on the world? You’re still a nobody, Harold,’ Dylan told him.

Harold turned and screamed at Brenda, who almost leapt out of her chair. ‘I want out, now. Get me out of here,’ he shrieked.

Dylan calmly terminated the interview.

‘The feeling’s mutual,’ Dawn muttered under her breath as she slid off the chair.

Little was returned to his cell, not because he demanded it, but because they had nothing more to put to him at that moment. Dylan knew he had a vast amount of evidence against him, sufficient to charge.

Tired but elated, Dylan and Dawn walked back to the office. ‘What’re you thinking, Dawn?’ he asked.

‘Mm … premeditated murderer who chose children because they were too small to fight back. Although he used the element of surprise anyway, didn’t he?’

‘I totally agree. Do you want to charge him, Dawn, whilst his solicitor is still here?’

‘Oh, boy, do I. Thank you, Jack.’ All of a sudden the tiredness was insignificant and he smiled. Dawn’s face glowed as she took off to the cells at a pace.

‘My office when you’ve charged him,’ Dylan called after her. She waved as she turned at the cell area door.

Larry was sitting doodling on a pad in the office when Dylan walked in. ‘Contact the FLOs will you, Larry, and ask them to inform the families that we are charging him.’

‘Yeah, sure, boss.’

‘We’ll have a debrief in an hour. Let’s get it done then we’ll grab a couple of pints, eh?’ Dylan said, slapping Larry on the back as he passed him.

 ‘Boss?’

‘Yeah?’

‘You were right. I’m sorry.’

Dylan smiled wanly. ‘I suppose I’d better inform the chief constable and the force. Watch the bosses come out of the woodwork again now,’ he chortled. ‘Larry?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Thanks for that.’

Dawn read the two charges of murder to Harold Wilkinson-Little: that he did, charge one, murder Daisy Charlotte Hind, and that he did, charge two, murder Christopher Francis Spencer. He did not reply.

‘Inspector Lever, Force Control.’ A bright, clear voice answered Dylan’s call.

‘Hello, Inspector. Detective Inspector Dylan. One for the information of the Chief, all Divisions and the Press Office. A Harold Wilkinson-Little, forty-five years old, will appear before Harrowfield Magistrates’ Court tomorrow charged with the murder of Daisy Charlotte Hind and Christopher Francis Spencer.’

‘That’s bloody great. Fantastic news. I’ll do that with pleasure.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, as he replaced the phone, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

The packed room at the debrief was jubilant, like a room full of lottery winners all waiting for the presentation of the cheque.

Dylan spoke to them, his voice strong and triumphant. ‘This has been a long and hard enquiry for all of us. It seems to have gone on for ages without any luck at all and then out of the blue this breakthrough. That’s policing. You’ll be pleased to know he’s admitted both murders. He blames the fathers of the murdered victims for bullying him at school, thirty years ago. I have my personal thoughts on that and anyone who knows me can probably guess them.’ The crowd jeered. ‘He’s been charged with both murders. I want to thank you all for your work over the past few months. This was a team effort and you can be proud of yourselves. Please thank your other halves for me. I know they will have had to be patient too. Well done everyone.’

A cheer went around the room.

‘Just one more thing. Don’t forget we still have a hell of a lot of work to do over the next week to collate the file, but the bar is open for those who wish to have a drink on me. Once again, thank you.’

The room emptied as quickly as if a fire alarm had just gone off. Everyone was on a high and was ready to celebrate the success. Dylan telephoned the cells to thank them and ensured that Harold Wilkinson-Little was on suicide watch; he didn’t want him taking the easy way out.

‘Cheers, everyone.’ Dylan raised his glass as he turned from the bar.

‘Cheers.’ The shout echoed around the room. It was noisy. Everyone was loud.

Tomorrow he, Dawn and Larry would have to speak to the families, but first he had to contact the Crown Prosecution Service. They needed to know Harold Wilkinson-Little would be appearing in court, so they could prepare for the remand. He felt good.

The courtroom would be packed and there would also be Press and people outside. Local uniform would need to be increased in the area for the duration. Dylan’s head was buzzing. He loved this part of the job best and at last the family had some sort of closure. The pints went down well and he felt his worries fall from his shoulders.

‘Jen? We’ve charged him,’ Dylan shouted in the noisy bar. Ecstatic in his drunken state, he wasn’t bothered who knew about their affair. He’d even called her from the bar’s extension.

‘I’m sorry, Jack, I can’t talk right now.’ Jen’s voice was sombre.

‘What? Oh, come on, Jen, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been there for you. But you know what it’s like when a job’s running, love. We can spend some time together, now. I’ve missed you so much. I’m not bothered who hears me. Let’s tell the world … we’re together,’ he announced splaying his arms lavishly. He felt like he could take on the world. He’d got everything he wanted, a wonderful job and a wonderful woman. Dylan pulled the extension cord into the corridor so he could hear Jen better.

‘Jack, you don’t understand. Mum’s died.’ Jen’s voice was sobering as it cracked with emotion.

‘Oh, my god. I’m sorry … I love you …,’ he stuttered, realising in that instant that his triumph meant nothing without her.

‘Jack?’ She jumped in before hanging up.

‘Yes?’

‘Jack, I … I think you should know … I don’t know if I’m coming back.’

Jack Dylan arrived at Cowes Red Jet passenger terminal early the next day, a very unexpected visitor, and Jen’s face said it all. Wonders would never cease. He wanted her to know that he needed her as much as she needed him and right now he knew where his place should be. Then, and only then, could they both decide what their future held - together?

CONSEQUENCES by RC BRIDGESTOCK is the second in the series of Detective Inspector Jack Dylan’s books.

Detective Inspector Jack Dylan’s list of things to do is getting out of control. He has two unconnected murders to solve of a small child and a young woman, plus a missing detective to find. Long hours are part of the job but does he have the time to figure out the pieces to the crime jigsaws, and save his relationship?

Top of his list is to find out who has used a toddler for target practice. The list of the boy’s injuries is horrific and his team of detectives won’t stop until the murderer or murderers are found. Their only solution is to find the culprit and put the murderer behind bars for a long, long time.

Detective Inspector Dylan also has to deal with a serial jumper – a man who keeps threatening to jump off high buildings; will he do it one day and is he involved with the child’s death?

With the pressure mounting Dylan has to solve the murder of Liz, a young woman found burned alive in a public park. He also has to find out where half a million pounds of the young woman’s money has gone and how his missing sergeant may be involved in the whole sorry mess. Usually the search for the murderer begins with the immediate family but the dead woman’s husband is in prison. CONSEQUENCES shows the steps the detectives must take to find the answer to the question - who killed Liz?