Passion Killers (21 page)

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Authors: Linda Regan

BOOK: Passion Killers
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“I hope she’ll rally to see how much everyone loves her,” Banham said, climbing into the passenger seat and clicking his seat belt into place.

What a price to pay for the attention, though, Alison thought. But she decided, for once, to keep her mouth shut.

18

Kevin Stone’s smug grin made Alison want to pound his face to pulp. He lounged back in the chair across the table, next to the weak-mouthed, bifocalled solicitor who had represented Kenneth Stone.

Banham’s fingers were interlocked and his knuckles were white. Alison could tell he was in danger of losing his temper, but was making a big effort to stay calm.

Kevin glanced, still grinning, from Banham to his solicitor and back again. He had ignored her from the start; he clearly didn’t relate to women, she realised. But as he wiped his hands surreptitiously on his beige Armani jeans, she saw that he was nervous too. And with good reason, she thought. Detective Inspector Paul Banham, the best cop in the business, had run him to earth, and now he would dig for every last drop of evidence to ensure this smart-alec boy was put away for the rest of his life. Three women had lost their lives and a fourth lay with hers in the balance; not forgetting a man who’d given his own life to save others.

At first Kevin had refused legal representation, even when Mr William Twig, whose flat balding head made him look like a cross between ET and a used cricket ball, had turned up. Crowther, who was on a mission to get promotion and took every opportunity to impress his superiors, had talked him into allowing the solicitor into the interview room.

Alison had brought William Twig up to speed, and was delighted to see the complacent look on the man’s face turn to grave concern. Twig was well known through his connections with Kenneth Stone’s political party, and it took a great deal to knock him off balance; this time it was plain he gave little for his chances of getting his client off. When Alison told him they were waiting on news from the hospital, and Katie Faye could well be added to the list of murdered women, William Twig looked deeply worried.

Banham’s penetrating eyes blinked. He unlocked his fingers and rested his arm on the table, then clasped his hands firmly together. He obviously didn’t trust himself not to hit Kevin, and Alison understood why.

“You still want to stick with the
they had it coming
scenario?” he asked Kevin.

Kevin’s smile widened. He pushed his tongue into his cheek and nodded.

Alison heard the intake of breath. Banham clenched his fists.

“How long had you been planning the murders?”

“They had it coming. All of them.”

“Answer the question,” Alison snapped, returning William Twig’s glare.

Twig turned to Kevin and shook his head.

“We’re impressed,” Banham said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You had us all fooled.”

Kevin nodded his head regally, but this time just one side of his mouth smiled.

“You rang Shaheen from your mother’s phone, when she was on the train coming into St Pancras,” Alison said.

He nodded at them as if they were small children learning their ABC.

Alison pushed on. “You told her you were coming to pick her up.”

He nodded again and said haughtily, “When I got there, I told her there was a change of plan. I had been told to drive her to Judy and Kim’s house; the meeting was to take place there because my dad was at home. Then I drove to a quiet lane, and I cut her throat. I put her in the boot. I had to break her legs to get her in, they wouldn’t bend properly. I can’t remember the make of the car. I think it was a Ford...” He turned his hands as if he trying to wind up his brain.

“A Mondeo,” Alison prompted.

“That’s right. Aren’t you the clever one?” He’ll pat my head in a minute, she thought.

His expression darkened. “The bitch peed on the seat. After she was dead, she peed on the seat. It
stank
. I wore overalls to do the job, but it still took me three showers to get rid of the smell. I wasn’t happy about that.”

“I don’t suppose her family were very happy either,” Banham said coldly.

Kevin’s chin flicked up. “What about my family? My real dad had no life. He spent nineteen years in prison because of her. And now he’s dead. Shot down like an animal. I hope the man who shot my dad is going to hang. He deserves it.”

“That would be you,” Banham said, hands palms down on the table. “The gunshot only grazed his shoulder. It was the knife wound you inflicted on him that killed him.”

William Twig’s face paled. Kevin looked at him for support, but he said nothing.

Banham continued, “So when forensics confirm what I already know, I’ll be adding manslaughter to the three murder charges. And we mustn’t forget one attempted murder. Attempted for the moment, that is.” He raised his voice. “You’ll be spending your life behind bars, young man, and you’ll deserve every minute of it.”

As William Twig opened his mouth to object, Kevin leapt across the table and flew at Banham’s face. “You set me up, you bastard.”

Quick as a flash, Alison was up and round the table, pinning his hands behind his back. “Sit down,” she shouted, “unless you want to add assaulting a police officer to the list. Or would you prefer we just locked you in a cell?”

Kevin obeyed, breathing heavily.

“My client needs a break,” William Twig said.

“Fine by me,” Banham said, straightening his shirt.

“I’m all right,” Kevin said, subsiding into his chair. “I’m glad I killed those slags. I enjoyed cutting that brown woman’s throat.”

“Because she was brown-skinned?” Could he get any worse, Alison wondered.

“No. Because she caused Ahmed Abdullah’s death and let my real dad take the blame. She thought she was a cut above, but she was the worst of them all.” He pushed out his lower lip. “She asked for it. My dad spent his life in prison because of her. And now he’s dead too.”

“Where did you get the red g-strings?” Alison asked, more from curiosity than from any real need of the additional evidence.

“They were in the skips Kenneth bought at that auction. We were looking for videos of Mum and Auntie Katie, and I rooted through the other stuff and found the bags of red g-strings. Mum suggested Kim might like the other costumes for her dance productions, and sent me round to her house with the skips. I took the thongs out and gave the rest to Kim and Judy. Mum had mentioned that Auntie Katie’s stripper name was Honeysuckle, so I wrote HS on them to make her the main suspect.”

“Did you write anything else?” Banham asked quickly.

He nodded. “Nobody was quite sure which of them was Honeysuckle. Brian thought Mum changed hers from Candyfloss to Honeysuckle, and Katie was actually Strawberry. Then I realised there was an S in just about every name, so I drew the strawberry on a couple of them to throw the blame on Auntie Katie again. It was just fun really. Giving you lot a puzzle to solve.” He wiggled his fingers. “Not that you were very good at it. You found the bag of g-strings I buried under the shrub with the knife, but you missed the others, under the lining of the boot of my car with the overalls. I still had enough left for the other three.” He shook his head sadly. “Not now, though. I’ve blown it. I won’t get the chance.”

“I don’t understand why you wanted Katie to get the blame,” said Banham.

“She did a lesbian act with my mum.” He looked vulnerable suddenly. “That really turned me over. My mother, a dyke.” He shrugged. “No matter really. I was going to kill her anyway. I was leaving her till last.”

Alison and the pallid William Twig made eye contact. Alison couldn’t help wondering how he thought he would defend this one.

“Something’s puzzling me,” Alison said. “The day Shaheen was murdered a call was made to her from Katie Faye’s mobile. Was that you too?”

He smiled. “Yes. All part of my plan to make you suspect her. They were all waiting at our house. Katie’s bag was with her coat; I took her mobile and dialled Shaheen’s number.”

“You worked out every little detail, didn’t you?” Banham said.

Kevin’s grin was back. “Clever, aren’t I? I was going to use Katie’s car too, to meet Shaheen at the station, but I couldn’t find the keys. So I had to steal one.” He grinned again.

“What about Susan?” Alison said.

“What about her?” His face twisted with disgust. “Fat slag. She smelt of cheap perfume and cat’s pee.”

“Is that why you left her unrecognisable?”

He shook his head and looked serious. “She was responsible for it all. She taught my mother to be a stripper. She was ghastly, and I hate cats.” His bottom lip turned down. “Even her clothes smelt of them.” He laughed humourlessly. “I enjoyed hacking her to bits. She was a piece of shit.”

“One thing I really don’t understand,” Alison said. “If you were so fond of your real dad, why kill Theresa? He really loved her.”

Kevin hunched in on himself, drawing his shoulders together as if to protect himself. “I saved him from her,” he said, almost apologetically.

“You broke his heart. She had his child. Your half-sister,” Banham reminded him.

He wiped his hands on his trousers again. He looked at William Twig and said in a low, confidential tone, “He didn’t know.”

Alison was running out of patience. “What didn’t he know?” she demanded.

His eyes narrowed. “Bernadette’s father wasn’t my dad. She just said that to get money out of my mother.”

Banham and Alison exchanged glances.

Kevin continued. “It was Ahmed Abdullah. She told me, last year. I was going to go to the social services about Bernadette; she was always drugging the poor kid so she would sleep and Theresa could go out. I told her I wanted to make sure she was properly looked after, and since she was my sister the social services would listen to me.” He rubbed his face, and his eyes grew distant. “The silly bitch said she wasn’t my sister. She begged me not to tell Brian, because it was the only thing keeping him going in prison, and it would break his heart.”

He wiped his hands on his trousers for a third time. “I thought he ought to know, but he died before I could tell him.”

No one spoke. Kevin stared at the table. After a few seconds he slowly raised his head and met Banham’s eyes. “She was a calculating, manipulative bitch and she deserved what she got. She would have used anyone to get money. Mum kept paying out because she felt responsible for the kid not having a father.”

“And now she hasn’t got a mother either,” Banham said.

“She had it coming. I enjoyed cutting her throat and breaking her face with my fist and making her eat the g-string. She set my real dad up.”

“They all did,” Banham told him. “Your father told us the truth. I think he was the only person who did.”

“He was a decent bloke. Not like all those slags. I did it all for him, you know.”

“Did Brian have any idea that you were carrying out these... these revenge killings for him?” Alison asked.

Kevin shook his head. “Dad wouldn’t hurt a fly. He got beaten up in prison, and he wouldn’t fight back in case he hurt someone. And in case it added to his sentence. He just wanted to get out and look after Theresa and Bernadette.”

“If you cared so much for your real father, how could you have planned to kill your mother?” Banham asked him. “And what about your little sister? Didn’t you think about her feelings?”

“I would have been doing her a favour. And as for Mum – she would have been better off dead than having to live with Kenneth Stone for the rest of her life. Ianthe and I have grown up with his violent temper. Every time he had too much to drink or had a bad day in Parliament, one of us got it. We lived in fear of him – but at least Ianthe and I knew that one day we could leave. Mum would never have left. What would she have done – become a stripper again?” His nose wrinkled. “I’d have been doing her a favour. Putting her out of her misery. Wouldn’t you do that for your mother?”

“Now it’s up to the courts,” Banham said a short time later, as they made their way back to the incident room. “That tape proves how intelligent and calculating he is.”

“And he’s old enough to get four life sentences,” Alison added. “I hope they don’t ever let him out.”

Banham rolled his shoulders. “I’m going back to the hospital. There are hordes of press gathered there. I’ll make an announcement – take some of the heat off Katie.”

Alison nodded, looking at the floor. She realised she was wearing her brown lace-up boots – the most unfeminine footwear she possessed.

“Do you want some company?” The words were out before she could stop them.

He looked at her with those sad, dewy blue eyes. “Yes, I do, very much indeed. Will you drive me?”

Olivia Stone was sitting in an empty interview room. Her right eye was still swollen from the punch she’d taken from Kenneth, and the bruising was growing more lurid. Black eye make-up had mixed with tears and crusted over her face, and she had had been chainsmoking for more than two hours.

The door opened and Judy Gardener walked in, followed by Kim. They sat down one on each side of her.

“You don’t have to wait here, you know,” Judy said gently. “It’s all over now. You’re free to leave whenever you like.”

“I haven’t anywhere to go,” she said quietly. “My husband is locked up because he’s violent. My son has been arrested for the murder of my friends, and his defence is that we put his real father behind bars for a crime we should have paid for.” She dropped her cigarette in the ashtray and ground it out. “The hospital says Katie’s chances of pulling through are very slim. And Kevin was planning to kill me.” She turned to look at Judy. “You know what? I wish he had.”

Judy put an arm around Olivia. “Ianthe needs you,” she said. “You’ll get through this. You just have to take things one day at a time.”

“Tell that to Ken.”

Kim covered Olivia’s hand with her own. “You don’t have to go home. You can come to ours. We’ll go and get Ianthe, and you can both come home with us.”

Olivia didn’t move. She picked up her packet of cigarettes and flicked another one out. “Ken will lose his job,” she said. “He’ll blame me, and he’ll probably kill me anyway. What will happen to Ianthe then?”

“If you have him charged with domestic violence you can get an injunction to keep him from coming near you,” Judy told her.

Olivia lit her cigarette and blew the smoke out. “What about Ianthe? He is her father after all.”

“She has offered to give evidence against him,” said Judy.

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