Evil Games (22 page)

Well, Alex did know where she was and doubted very much that any true measure of happiness had befallen her. She recalled a passage from Milton’s
Paradise Lost
; ‘The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.’ Alex wondered what Kim’s mind had made of itself.

Sensing there was nothing more to gain here but emotional lamentation, Alex reached down for her handbag. She stood and offered her hand.

‘Thank you very much for your time, it has been incredibly helpful.’

Henry leaned down and extracted a book. ‘Here you are, my dear, I still have a few left. You’re welcome to a copy if it will help with your case.’

Alex again thanked him and took leave of his company. The man had no idea that the spring in her step was due to the detail of his recollections. He had offered her an armoury of ammunition and she couldn’t wait to get started on the biggest challenge of them all.

FORTY-ONE

‘You alright there, Guv?’ Bryant asked, pulling up at the school gates.

Even through the sealed unit of the car the sound of the school playground could be heard. It was a universal symphony conducted around the world. Loud, excited chatter from groups that moved and changed like the tide. Playing, screaming, chasing in the last few minutes of freedom before the start of the day.

Already ties were being loosened, backpacks abandoned in the corner to be grabbed on the way in.

She knew this playground well. She looked to the oak tree that still dominated the top right corner. She half expected to see herself there, playing tag with Mikey around the tree. Just the two of them.

On cue, the bell rang and startled her. The doorway acted like a vacuum as it sucked all the little bodies inside.

‘Jeez, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Bryant said.

She didn’t need to see the ghost. It lived inside her every minute. What she hadn’t needed was the familiarity of the surroundings. It was why she’d sent Dawson to interview the teacher in the first place. It was also why they’d asked Miss Browning to meet them at the gate. Just so they didn’t disrupt the children.

‘Guv, are you …’

‘Looks like that’s our girl,’ Kim said, opening the car door. And as she walked towards the figure, Kim realised that the description of her as a girl was frighteningly accurate.

The figure wore a navy A-line skirt that fell just below her knees. Shapely legs were encased in black tights all the way down to court shoes. Her upper half was encased in a North Face jacket zipped up to the neck. The blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and little make up graced her face. Despite her understated appearance, nothing could hide the raw beauty of her features.

‘Miss Browning?’ Kim asked.

The woman smiled and the expression lifted her whole face. ‘Don’t worry, I’m older than I look.’

Kim laughed. She’d be thankful for that drawback in later life.

Kim introduced herself and Bryant who stood beside her, his hands dug into his jacket pockets.

In doing so, she’d made it clear to her partner that she intended to lead this one. Better that than succumb to the memories reaching out for her.

‘I know that Detective Sergeant Dawson spoke to you some time ago when we began our initial investigation into the abuse at the Dunn household.’

She nodded.

‘Can you tell me what alerted your suspicions in the first place?’

‘Wiggling in her seat. At first I thought Daisy was just restless but it seemed to be happening a lot. Especially when both hands were above the desk.’

Kim frowned. ‘I don’t get the significance …’

‘Itching, Detective Inspector. One of the physical symptoms of abuse, along with pain, bleeding, swelling etc. Without realising it, Daisy was trying to rub her private parts against the chair to relieve the itching.’

Well spotted, Kim thought.

‘So, I started watching her more closely for behavioural changes. There was a drop in school engagement and achievement. She interacted with her peers less and her school marks dropped from an A minus average to C plus.’

‘Any other signs?’

Miss Browning nodded. ‘Another common indicator of abuse is regression to a more childlike state. Three days running I saw her sucking her thumb.’

Kim couldn’t help being impressed by this woman’s vigilance.

‘Did you try and talk to her?’

‘Oh yes, many times, but she’d withdrawn so far into herself I could barely get a word out of her.’

‘Did she ever mention anyone else? Even before the withdrawal.’

Dawson wouldn’t have asked this previously. They had only ever been focussed on Dunn.

The teacher quickly drew a line between the dots.

‘There was someone else involved in the abuse?’

Kim nodded.

Miss Browning closed her eyes and shook her head, absorbing the information.

‘Every time I tried to talk to her she was uncommunicative. On demand, she could erect this wall and I couldn’t get past it. One time I just touched her lightly on the shoulder and she jumped right out of her skin. One time I tried to speak to her sister but Daisy wouldn’t let me anywhere near her. The woman shook her head some more. ‘Those poor little girls.’

Kim got to the question she really wanted an answer to.

‘When you took the girls home did you manage to voice your concerns to either of the parents?’

‘Not even a sentence. As soon as Mr Dunn opened the door and saw me he bundled the girls in and shut the door in my face.

‘Mrs Dunn?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t even know if she was home.’

So, that theory was destroyed. From what they’d learned, Kim suspected that Wendy Dunn had been upset at his ignorant treatment of the teacher.

Kim had a sudden thought.

‘Why did you take the girls home that day? It’s not exactly normal practice is it?’

The woman smiled. ‘No, but I wanted to speak to the parents. The message I sent about my concern appeared never to have reached them.’

‘Who did you give the message to?’

‘Mrs Dunn’s brother, Robin.’

‘Her brother picked Daisy up from school?’

‘Oh, yes, he collected both girls all the time.’

Kim glanced at Bryant who raised his eyebrows in response. That was something they hadn’t known and was a very enlightening detail indeed.

FORTY-TWO

Kim unclipped the collar. Barney went to his water dish and slurped twice.

It was well after midnight and they had just returned from their long walk. Kim varied the exercise; some nights they walked the streets, other times she took him to the park and let him off the lead.

The nightly solitude soothed her. She had learned early on that Barney didn’t much like games. She’d thrown a tennis ball for him and he’d looked at her as if to say ‘well, what was the point of that?’ She’d retrieved the ball herself and tried a couple more times. It had turned into a great form of exercise for her, not so much for the dog. Eventually she had worked out that Barney was a follower. If she walked, he walked. If she ran, he ran.

This evening they had walked for almost an hour and half. She felt he must be hungry by now.

‘Come on boy, try one, just one?’

She held out one of the mini quiches she’d baked earlier. The dog backed away and jumped onto the sofa, resting his head on the cushion.

‘Go on, try just a little bit.’

He burrowed his head down into the sofa.

She sighed. ‘You know, Barney, you’re about the only male in my life who doesn’t do what I say. And for that I respect you.’

The quiches landed in the bin with a thud.

‘Alright, have one of these.’

All fear forgotten, he jumped down and took the crunchy apple from her hand.

It was disturbing just how easily he had fit in to her lifestyle. Probably more disconcerting was the amount of time she spent talking to him.

That first night had taken her to a place she rarely visited. The feel of his small, warm body nestled against her had brought back emotions that engulfed her; the guilt at not having died along with her brother, the anger at her inability to prevent his death and the rage at her mother for having done that to them.

Momentarily she had been transported back to that flat and the memory of her brother’s last breath, but she had pulled herself back from the edge. The past was a place she could visit only briefly to remember Mikey’s open, trusting face. She tried to recall only his smile or the feel of his small hand in hers but inevitably her mind pushed the fast forward button to those last few days.

She had never talked about it and she never would. Kim’s whole world depended on it.

She took a coffee into the garage and sat amongst the scattered debris of her new project.

The flutes of Beethoven’s
Second Symphony
sounded in the background.

She’d given herself the deadline of tonight to make a decision on whether to pursue the doctor any further.

Kim had the notion that their meeting at the cemetery had been engineered, but for what purpose? And how would she have known that Kim would be there? Unless she’d been followed.

Jesus, she reprimanded herself. If this continued much longer she’d be framing Alexandra Thorne for the Kennedy assassination.

She smiled to herself as her phone vibrated along the worktop. It was almost one in the morning.

The phone had lit up with a text from Stacey. She read the words with interest.

If you’re up ring me.

Kim was immediately concerned. Stacey would never contact her at this time if it wasn’t urgent.

She immediately hit the dial button. Stacey answered on the second ring.

‘You okay, Stace?’

‘Fine, boss. Listen, this doctor thing yer asked me to look at. I’ve been doin’ it from home. Yer know, just in case …’

‘Cheers, Stace.’ At the station there were I.T. watchdogs everywhere.

‘The doctor’s sister, Sarah. I found a birth certificate but no death certificate.’

‘But she exists?’

Kim was mildly surprised at the fact.

‘Oh yeah, she exists all right, she’s alive and well and living in Wales.’

Kim steadied herself against the workbench. ‘You sure?’

‘Oh yeah, married with one child. A daughter. Moves around more than a bloody army wife. Took some bloody tracking.’

‘Stace, you’re an angel. I appreciate it.’ Kim checked her watch. ‘Now get some sleep.’

‘Will do, boss,’ Stacey said, before ending the call.

Kim stood for a few moments, turning the phone around in her hand.

Being beautiful and clever was not breaking any law and Kim realised that she would need to think carefully about her next move. Her own façade had been carefully and diligently constructed, course by course, over many years, but she’d never met anyone like Alexandra Thorne.

The phone dropped from her grip.

Ultimately it came down to a single question. Was she prepared to enter this arena and risk her own fragile psyche to uncover the total truth?

On balance, was there even really a choice?

FORTY-THREE

Kim switched off the engine and removed her helmet. The house was unremarkable in its row of terraced properties. The only thing that distinguished it was the ‘For Sale’ sign that protruded from the wall halfway up the property.

More remarkable was where it was placed. Llangollen was located along the A5, just over halfway between the Black Country and Snowdonia. The small town nestled at the foot of Llantysilio Mountain. From where she now stood there were stunning views of the Dee Valley, the Clwydian mountain range and the Berwyns in the distance.

Kim enjoyed the view for a whole thirty seconds before she turned and knocked on the door.

Her eye was drawn to the left as two fingers appeared to separate the venetian blind.

The door opened part way. ‘Yes?’

‘Sarah Lewis?’ Kim asked, trying to peer around the two inch opening.

‘You are?’

Jesus, she was talking to a front door. ‘Detective Inspector Kim …’

The door was pulled open and Kim almost stepped back with surprise. Before her was a woman that bore a striking similarity to Alexandra Thorne. It wasn’t a vague family resemblance. Kim would have picked her out in a line up.

Kim held up her hands to still the panic that had tensed her mouth. ‘There’s nothing wrong. I’m not local, I’m from the Midlands, an area called …’

‘How did you find me?’ she asked.

‘Umm … does it matter?’

The woman’s shoulders dropped slightly. ‘Not anymore. How can I help you?’

‘It’s about your sister.’

‘Of course it is,’ she said, without emotion.

Kim looked around. ‘May I come in?’

‘Do you need to?’

‘I think so,’ Kim answered honestly.

Sarah Lewis stepped back and allowed her in. She waited for the woman to close the door and then followed her. The house had once been a two up, two down cottage but as Kim followed she saw that a full kitchen had been added, extending the property into the sizeable back garden.

‘Sit down, if you must,’ Sarah said, leaning against the work surface.

A glass dining table looked out onto a space that held a slide, a swing set and a patio area with a barbecue. A couple of doll parts had been tossed in the grass. Those discarded limbs gave Kim the comparison her mind had been seeking.

Sarah was about two inches shorter and a few pounds heavier than her sister. And as curt as she was now, real emotion registered on those striking features. If they were toys, Alex would be the doll made of plastic perfection with a box for protection. Sarah would be the teddy bear in the spotted dungarees getting the love and the cuddles.

Kim felt her fascination grow. She couldn’t help wondering just how long it had been evident that the sisters were polar opposites.

‘I suppose it’s too much to hope that she’s dead?’

Kim was prevented from responding as a little girl gambolled into the room. Dark curly hair poked out from beneath a woollen hat and tiger earmuffs. A hand-knitted scarf was draped haphazardly around her neck and mittens dangled from the sleeves of her coat.