Foul Justice (3 page)

She could tell Roberts was struggling not to laugh.

“Sums it up nicely, I’d say,” he said jovially, as he departed the room.

Why did she have the feeling she’d been duped?

CHAPTER THREE

L
orne issued her team
its tasks and set off for the crime scene with new recruit Katy Foster alongside her.

At the reception desk, DCI Roberts had left the keys to a Vauxhall Vectra that was parked alongside her small Nova in the car park. It was late September. The trees were beginning to turn rich golden and bronze. The autumn rain and high winds were bringing hundreds of leaves to the ground, making the roads and pavements hazardous.

As they headed out to Chelsea, Katy hadn’t said a word after fifteen minutes in the car. Lorne decided to speak first. “So, Katy, how long have you been down here? DCI Roberts told me you were based in Manchester.”

Staring at the road ahead of her, Katy replied, “A month.”

Her tone held an edge that didn’t sit well with Lorne, but she continued the conversation nevertheless. “You’re very young to be a sergeant. You must have impressed your superiors.”

“Yep,” came the younger woman’s abrupt retort.

Lorne navigated the heaving London traffic before trying again. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

Lorne bit the inside of her lip, forcing back the anger she feared would escape the next time she opened her mouth. Although she herself was known for her feistiness, she’d never been rude with it. Katy was striking her as rude. Glancing out the corner of her eye, she saw that Katy held her back rigid and her arms folded tightly across her chest.
One final attempt, and then if she doesn’t answer, well…‌

“So has your boyfriend stayed up in Manchester, or has he come down here with you?” Lorne made certain that the question required more than a one-word answer.

“Yep, he’s back there.”

Ah ha!
So that might be her problem; maybe she was missing him.

“Is he going to join you down here?”

“Maybe.”

Anger bubbled near the surface, but they arrived at the Dobbses’ house. Annoyed, Lorne ordered tersely, “When we get inside, I want you to stay by my side, okay?”

She heard Katy expel her breath and
tut
noisily. Lorne wanted to grab her by the shoulders and give her a good shake. She hated insubordination. She’d always run a tight ship with a supporting crew—except for Molly, but Lorne had even turned
her
around, come the end. The trouble was that she’d have to tread carefully where Katy was concerned, due to the Greenfall factor.

This situation sucks!

Pulling up to the gates a uniformed officer approached the car. She showed him her warrant card and introduced Katy.

“Very well, ma’am. If you pull over to the left there, it’ll ensure the SOCO team can leave the scene without obstruction once they’re finished.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks.”

The house was huge. Lorne guessed that the large red-bricked mansion house dated back to the Victorian era. The front garden was mostly laid to lawn and bordered with mature shrubs that ranged in colour from golden yellow to deep plum. Her father, once an avid gardener, would be in awe of this beautifully tended garden.

The two women stepped out of the vehicle. Lorne opened the boot to look for plastic shoes for them to use. She could’ve kicked herself for not coming prepared; her old car would’ve been kitted out properly. Yet another job to add to her to-do list.

“Damn it. Nothing,” she told Katy, who only shrugged in response, making Lorne’s annoyance and anger intensify.

When they approached the front door, one of the Scene of Crime officers was at his vehicle. Lorne asked him for some plastic shoes, which he retrieved from the back of his van and handed to her.

“I’m looking for Joe Wallis. Is he still here?” Lorne asked the officer, a man in his early-mid thirties, as she slipped on the blue plastic shoes.

“In the bedroom upstairs, ma’am. We’re almost finished here,” the officer told her.

“Dare I ask if you’ve found much?”

“I’d rather you ask Wallis that, ma’am,” he replied, giving her an awkward smile.

“I understand. Thanks for the shoes. Come on, Sergeant.”

Stepping through the front door, Lorne looked up at the magnificent vaulted hallway and galleried landing, decorated in a stark white that had splashes of red in the form of vases, picture frames, and curtains. The modern look was totally different to what she’d been expecting from the exterior of the property.

With her warrant card in hand and Katy behind her, she made her way up the grand sweeping staircase towards the master bedroom at the end of the hallway, passing by several open doors
en route
. Lorne glanced in the rooms as she passed and marvelled at how beautifully decorated they all were, even the two children’s bedrooms. One room was bubble gum pink and had a canopied princess bed along one wall, while the other had a mural of a castle painted on the wall. The bed had chains on either end, as though it were a drawbridge that lowered and rose when required by its keeper, who sadly was no longer with them.

Several of the SOCO team, dressed in white paper suits, were still hard at work in the main bedroom when they entered.

“Joe Wallis?” Lorne asked the suited man nearest the door.

“Over here. And you are?” The goatee-bearded man was in his mid-forties, his hair on the cusp of turning grey. His brown eyes glistened in the artificially lit room.

Lorne proffered her hand, but he held his gloved hands uppermost and shrugged.

“I’m Detective Inspector Lorne Simpkins, SIO of the case. Can you tell me what you’ve found?”

“Sure, I’m almost done here. Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll walk you through the house.”

“Thanks.” Lorne stepped back into the hallway and stood against the wall. Katy stayed in the doorway, watching the SOCO officers carry out their work.

“Have you worked on a murder case before, Sergeant?”

“Once or twice.”

Lorne eyed the younger woman, trying to figure her out. Katy was fairly pretty, didn’t wear much makeup, and had olive skin with what Lorne thought were acne scars. She was slim, about the same size as Lorne in height and build, but Lorne noticed that her mahogany brown hair had the look of being pampered and cut by an expert hairdresser.

“You want to be more specific about your experience?”

Katy shrugged and kept her eyes trained on the room in front of her, another thing Lorne hated and considered rude. Finally, Katy replied, “We have murders up there, too, you know.”

“Did I say you didn’t? Look, Katy. If we’re going to wor—” Lorne stopped when Wallis came marching out of the room and down the hallway.

“Come along, Inspector. I haven’t got all day,” he called over his shoulder as he disappeared downstairs.

“Never mind. Come on.” Lorne trotted after Wallis.

The two women walked through the double glass doors into the lounge. Wallis stood by the French doors that led out onto the terrace and pool area. At his feet, the cream carpet had a bloodstain the size of a large beach ball.

“This is where the boy child died, Jacob Dobbs. His hands were tied behind his back, as were his mother’s.”

Wallis walked to another area and indicated another blood spot on the carpet half the size of the last one. “Trisha Dobbs was stabbed here, at least ten times—how she survived, I’ll never know, but she did. And over there—” Wallis pointed to the white couch approximately ten feet away. “That is where the little girl, Rebecca Dobbs, was found. Like her brother, the poor mite’s throat had been cut.”

“Don’t you think that’s odd? That both children were killed like that, and yet the mother only had stab wounds. I say
only
, but you know what I mean.”

“I agree, most odd. Maybe the intruder wanted to make the mother suffer before and after,” Wallis said frankly, as if he’d already thought deeply about the circumstances and possible motives of the criminals.

Lorne looked at all three spots again, her mind racing with probabilities. “You mean, you think the mother was
intentionally
left alive?”

Wallis’ mouth turned down, and he nodded. “That’s how it looks to me. Otherwise, why didn’t she suffer the same fate as her children?”

Lorne’s brow furrowed. “Do you think the intruder knew the family? Was it some kind of punishment, perhaps?”

“Now that, Inspector, is something you need to find out. The place was torn apart, both in here and upstairs in the bedrooms. I’d say they were after jewellery, but it’s possible they could’ve been after something else. The best person in a position to answer that would be Mr. Dobbs.”

“Have you found any fingerprints?” Lorne asked.

“Yes, but we won’t know if they’re the family’s until we run the tests. There’s also a glass. Looks like brandy in it; maybe the intruder poured a drink while he was here. Again, we’ll run the usual tests on the glass and get the results back to you ASAP. That’s as much as I can tell you, Inspector.”

“Who’s the pathologist on the case, do you know?”

“Patti Fletcher. She took over from that French guy…‌Jacques Arnaud, dreadful situation.” Wallis’ expression was pained.

Unfortunately, Lorne knew all too well whom he was talking about and the case he was referring to. Baldwin, otherwise known as The Unicorn, had blighted her life for almost nine years before she had resigned from the force. Not only had he killed her partner, Pete, and abducted and raped her daughter, Charlie—he’d also put an end to the relationship she had considered leaving her then-husband for.

“Inspector, are you all right? You’ve gone very pale.” Wallis pulled her out of her reverie.

“I’m sorry. Jacques Arnaud was a dear friend of mine. As for the bastard who—let’s just say I got my revenge, and he got what was coming to him.”

Wallis chuckled and slammed the heel of his gloved hand against his forehead. “Of course. I should’ve recognised your name. It’s an honour to meet someone as famous as yourself, Inspector.”

“Ha! I hardly think fame comes into it, Joe. At the end of the day, I was just doing what I was paid to do. Let me correct that—actually I wasn’t on the payroll then, but it was still a pleasure to track the bastard down. Can you let me have the results as soon as you get them back?”

“Of course, Inspector. Right away. I’ll be on my way now, glad to know that London is safe in your hands once again.”

“I doubt that’s true, Joe. There will always be some lunatic out there trying to outsmart the police.” She looked around her and swept her arm over the scene. “See what I mean?”

“You’re right about that. Speak soon, Inspector.” Wallis turned and marched out the front door.

Lorne spotted Katy’s expression. “What’s the puzzled look for?”

“What did he mean?” Katy asked quietly.

“About what exactly?”

“About you being famous. Are you some kind of celebrity?”

Lorne couldn’t help laughing, but her face straightened when the images of Baldwin’s contorted, vile face shot through her mind. Then she jumped on the chance to pull the moody sergeant into line.

“Let’s just say when people double-cross me, they live to regret it.”

CHAPTER FOUR

L
orne and Katy returned
to their vehicle an hour or so later, after they had walked the crime scene, which hadn’t told them much apart from where and how the victims had died or—in the mother’s case—been beaten.

“What are we going to do now?” Katy asked as Lorne eased the car out of the Dobbses’ long drive and through the gates.

“You tell me.”

Katy sharply turned to face her. “What?”

“Come on. If you were lead investigator on the case, where and what would you do next?” Lorne asked, her eyes locked on the road ahead of her.

Katy shifted uncomfortably in her seat for a few seconds, then sat bolt upright. Out of the corner of her eye, Lorne saw the younger woman extract something from her jacket pocket: a black notebook.

“Well, I think our next stop should be the mortuary.”

It was the longest sentence Katy had strung together since they’d met, and although going to the mortuary was the wrong course of action, Lorne was pleased that Katy seemed at least to be taking her role seriously and thinking about the case, despite her moodiness.

“Why?”

“Excuse me?” Katy retorted.

“You heard, Sergeant. Why?”

After another couple of minutes shuffling in her seat, Katy mumbled, “Because I thought it would make sense to get the post results first.”

Lorne could tell Katy was downhearted, so at the earliest opportunity she pulled the Vectra into the nearest lay-by. She pivoted in her seat to face Katy. “It really wasn’t a trick question, Sergeant. If we’re going to be partners, I’ll be expecting you to contribute to the partnership. Yes, I’m your superior; but as the saying goes, two heads are better than one.

“There’ll be times during a case where your knowledge will be greater than mine. Don’t forget I’ve been out of the force for nearly two years. Things change, procedures change. I’ll be expecting you to voice your opinions, however daft they may seem. In my experience, it’s normally the daftest ideas that prove to be the most important part of solving the case. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Katy’s voice was subdued, and her eyes never left the road in front of her.

That lack of reaction frustrated Lorne. “Another thing: I don’t do moods. Yes, I might throw the odd hissy fit now and again, but I don’t put up with moods from my colleagues. Got that?”

Katy shot her a look that said ‘I don’t give a damn what you say; I’ve got Superintendent Greenfall behind me.’

And in that instant, Lorne knew she would have more than a few problems ahead of her until she managed to turn the new recruit’s way of thinking around.

“I said, ‘
Have you got that
?’”

“Yes, ma’am. Message received.”

“Right. Oh, and while we’re having this little discussion, I’d also like to say that my door is always open. I don’t expect any member of my team to go through problems alone, but I draw a line at personal problems affecting the workplace and the equilibrium of the team. You got a problem inside or outside of work, I want to hear about it first, not second-hand, okay?”