Taunting the Dead (40 page)

‘Yes!’ She pulled it up the bed and quickly located her phone. Laughing with relief, she switched it on and pressed the speed dial.

‘Come on!’ she said but there was no answer.

She clicked on her contact list. The first name was Ashleigh. She answered after a few rings.

‘Ashleigh! Oh, Ashleigh, thank God.’

‘Kirstie? Where are you? Your dad called me. He’s frantic. Oh, you’ll be in deep fucking shit if you’re with –’

‘Listen, Ash,’ Kirstie interrupted her. ‘You have to call the police. I’ve been kidnapped and I tried to call my dad but there’s no answer. I’m at –’

‘Yeah, yeah. Pull the other one. I am not covering for you and getting into trouble again. Your dad will do his nut with me.’

‘Ashleigh! Please, this isn’t a game. Lee has gone mad. He’s threatened me with a knife and I’m tied up in his dad’s bedroom. Ash, you have to believe me. Lee killed my mum.’

The line went quiet and Kirstie began to cry. ‘Please, Ash. This isn’t a joke. You kept the card that Sergeant gave us, didn’t you? You have to call her, tell her where I am!’

‘What’s the number of the house?’

Kirstie cried even more with relief. ‘Number two, Georgia Road. I’m in the back bedroom. My dad will have a key.’

She heard a noise and jumped. Shit, Lee must be back. She slid the phone underneath the pillow.

A small crowd had gathered outside the gate of number eighteen when Allie came outside. While she waited for Nick to arrive, she wanted to see if Phil Kennedy was at home and find out the last time he had seen his son. She knocked on the door of number two but there was no answer. She flipped up the letter box but everything seemed as it should be at this address – thankfully no more blood to invade her dreams. Well, not in the hallway at least. The downstairs curtains were open so she looked through the window. The living room was tidy, too. She was about to knock again when her phone rang.

‘Hello. Is that Allie Shenton?’ a female voice enquired.

‘Yes.’

‘It’s Cathryn Mountford. You gave me your card yesterday and told me to call you. I’ve been assaulted and I want to press charges.’

‘I’m sorry, Ms Mountford,’ Allie replied, not really wanting to make time to talk to her right now. ‘You need to report something like that to your local police station. I can’t –’

‘It was Terry Ryder who assaulted me.’

Allie was walking back to Lee Kennedy’s house but she stopped. ‘When did this happen?’

‘Not long after your visit. He broke one of my ribs with one punch. He said that if the police came around asking questions again and I didn’t continue to lie for him, that he would do more than that the next time.’

‘Continue to lie for him?’ Allie held her breath. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I wasn’t telling you the truth. I’m so sorry. Terry wasn’t with me for all of the night his wife was murdered.’

‘But you said he was in Derby with you.’

‘He was in Derby and he did come home with me, like I said. But he was called out just before half ten, more or less as soon as we got through the door of my apartment. He said one of the alarms was going off on site. He told me to go to bed, not to wait up for him.’

‘And what time did he get back, can you remember?’

‘About three a.m.’

Nearly five hours. Allie knew it was more than possible that Terry Ryder could have driven to Stoke, lain in wait for his wife, murdered her and driven back to Derby. She held the phone between her neck and shoulder as she wrote the details down.

‘What about his clothes?’ she asked next. ‘Were there any stains on them? Did he show any signs of being in a fight or a struggle?’

‘I noticed he came back in a fresh shirt.’

He’d changed his shirt? Allie’s mind threw a million questions at her. Why had he changed his shirt? And where? At work? At home after he’d killed Steph but before heading back to Derby? Had he gone somewhere else other than where he worked? Where was the shirt he’d changed out of?

‘Why did you cover for him?’

‘I’m not sure how much time you’ve spent with Terry but he can be a very charming man. He can spin a great tale. I believed his story about the alarm because I didn’t know too many of the details.’

‘Even when you knew he hadn’t been with you all night and his wife had been murdered?’

‘I know how pathetic it sounds, Sergeant. Like I said, he can be a charmer when he wants to be. The seed of doubt was planted when you came to see me. My mistake was not doing anything about it.’

Allie could hear Cathryn crying down the phone. Was it possible that she was right after all? That Terry really had killed his wife? She needed to get back to work, think things through. But first she needed to know one more thing.

‘What made you change your story, Cathryn?’

‘It was the look in his eyes.’ Allie heard Cathryn’s voice waver.

‘And you’re prepared to make a statement?’

‘Yes, I am. Believe me, Sergeant. Terry Ryder is not going to touch me ever again.’

Allie disconnected the call and stood for a moment. That had been a turn up for the books. She’d thought Cathryn would have stood by Terry, no matter what. But she had sounded frightened on the phone and it looked like he’d left her in the same mess as he’d left Carole Morrison.

Blue lights up ahead catching her eye with their repeating flashes, she ran a hand through her hair. Was everything that Terry had told her a lie? Had he gone to Vegas with Steph or had that been a ploy for her to think their marriage was better than it was? Had he bought her the watch? Or could it have been Phil Kennedy? She could have worn it out on nights when Terry was away and she knew she’d be meeting up with Phil. After all, if he had bought it for her, when would she have had time to wear it?

She looked again at number two. She’d have to come back to it later.

Kirstie held her breath but all was quiet. She picked up the phone again but Ashleigh had gone. She disconnected the call. Seconds later, the phone rang.

‘Dad!’

‘Kirstie! I tried to call you. Who were you talking to?’

‘Dad, you have to call the police. Lee’s kidnapped me. He’s tied me up and I can’t undo the rope.’

‘Do you know where you are?’

‘He brought me to Phil’s house. He said he needed to see his dad but he tricked me,’ she sobbed. ‘He said – he said he killed my mum. It was Lee. You have to call the police.’

‘Is he there?’

‘No, but I – I don’t know when he’ll come back.’

‘Are you upstairs or downstairs?’

‘I’m upstairs, in the back bedroom. Come quick, Dad. I’m so scared.’

‘I’ll be with you in no time. I’m just around the corner. Stay put and don’t worry. I’ll sort that bastard out.’

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Up in the loft, once his eyes accustomed to the darkened area, Lee trod carefully, walking over to the far wall. He climbed through the hole where the bricks were missing at the side of the chimney and stepped into number four. He walked across the loft boarding and through into the next space until he came to number six. He was about to search out the bag hidden in number eight when a beam of light pointed in his direction. He stooped down quickly and stayed as still as possible.

‘I thought I heard something,’ a female voice said a few moments later. ‘These shadows give me the creeps.’

The torch flashed in the opposite corner of the space. Lee groaned inwardly; he needed that money. Cautiously, he crawled forward on his hands and knees. One shuffle, then another. The sole of his boot scraped against a wooden rafter. The torch beam shone back again. He froze. On all fours, he was vulnerable. One slip and he could find himself falling down into the room below.

‘I’m going to walk them, see how far I can get.’ That voice again.

Lee shimmied back slowly and stooped down, hidden behind a pile of boxes. His hands felt around for anything to use as a weapon. Fingertips reached out into the dark, finally clasping around a thin plank of wood. The torch and footsteps came nearer. He held his breath when someone climbed through into the loft space he was in.

The woman stood inches away from him. Having the element of surprise, Lee smacked her across the shin with the plank and made a run for it.

‘Argh!’ The woman shouted out in pain but it didn’t stop her giving chase. Lee felt a hand grab at his jacket as he tried to scramble to his feet. He threw his fist back, punching at her arm until he was free. Hearing another female voice shout behind him, he retraced his steps back to number two. Fuck, that had been close. And he wasn’t out of danger yet. They were on to him. There was no time to get the money. He had to get out of there and fast.

There was so much going on at the front of Georgia Road that it was easy for Terry to slip into the yard of number two and in through the back door of the house unnoticed. Surprised to see them searching Lee’s house, he wondered if what he’d told him about Shaun Morrison could be true. Had he killed him? If he had, Terry had vastly underestimated the younger member of the Kennedy clan.

He stepped into the kitchen. The house was in silence, nothing out of place. He crept along the hall, checked the living room. Quietly, he opened the cellar door but still no noise. Then, keeping his back to the wall and his eyes upwards, he went upstairs.

Back at number eighteen, Allie had been coming up the stairs towards the loft hatch when she heard the commotion. She climbed halfway up the tinny ladders so she could see into the gap.

‘Sam? Sam? Are you okay? What’s going on up there?’

In the far corner, Sam stepped through the hole in the wall and back into Allie’s line of sight. Allie climbed up next to her.

‘There was someone back there,’ Sam said, taking a moment to catch her breath. ‘Took a crack at me but I’m okay.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yes.’ She brushed Allie’s concerned hand away gently.

‘Was it Kennedy? Did you get a good look at him?’

‘No. I grabbed his jacket but he punched back at me.’

Allie’s phone rang again. ‘Hello?’ She listened intently. ‘What? Are you sure? Look, don’t worry. We’re already there. Yes. Thanks.’

Allie looked at Sam. ‘That was Ashleigh Stewart. She’s had a call from Kirstie. Lee Kennedy has her. She’s here, at number two.’

Sam gasped. ‘It
was
him, back there, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, quick. Let’s get after him.’

‘Sarge, after seeing what was left of Shaun Morrison, do you think Kirstie will still be alive?’ Sam’s voice was low as they made their way through the loft spaces.

‘I’m not sure.’ Allie stepped over a box and pushed another to one side. ‘Let’s hope their love is sweet and innocent.’

‘And Ryder? Do you still think he’s innocent in all of this?’

Allie quickly filled Sam in on the phone conversation she’d had with Cathryn Mountford.

‘But if he wasn’t in Derby,’ said Sam, ‘that could mean –’

‘That he could have been here in Stoke.’

‘Which means that Carole Morrison might not be lying.’

Allie agreed. In all honesty, she had always believed Carole Morrison’s side of things.

‘It still doesn’t make sense,’ Sam continued. ‘Why would he want to be here? Wouldn’t it have been better for him to be in Derby rather than near to where the murder took place?’

Allie stopped abruptly and shone her torch round at Sam. Sam squinted and shielded her eyes.

‘He didn’t come back to kill her, did he?’ said Allie.

‘Ohmigod,’ said Sam. ‘He came back to –’

They spoke in unison.

‘Watch her die.’

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Slowly, Terry inched up the stairs. He could see the loft ladder pulled down. He peered up but couldn’t see anything. Directly in front, the bathroom door stood open. He could see that the room was empty. The door next to it was shut to but not closed. He pushed it open with the side of his shoe, inch by inch until he could see the bottom of the bed. Another few inches and he could see Kirstie’s feet. He pushed the door open with his hand and it hit the back wall. A step forward and he could see all of the room. Lee wasn’t there.

Relief washed over Kirstie as she spotted him. He put a finger to his lips.

‘He hasn’t come back,’ she told him and burst into tears.

‘Did he say where he was going?’ Terry dropped to the floor beside his daughter.

‘No.’

He saw dried blood on her hands and checked her over quickly with his eyes.

‘Did he hurt you?’

‘Not really,’ she replied.

‘He didn’t…’

‘No, he didn’t touch me,’ Kirstie reassured him. ‘But he’s psyched up, Dad. He really scared me. We have to go. Right now.’

Terry pulled a knife from his pocket, flicked out the blade and began to hack at the rope.

‘He killed my mum,’ Kirstie sobbed as he worked to free her. ‘He told me to take the blame. He set me up and…’

They heard a noise. Footsteps down the ladder. Kirstie froze with fear. Terry stood up and quietly pushed the door back to its previous position. Then he hid out of view.

Lee walked in and Terry smashed a fist into the side of his face before he had chance to speak. The force of it slammed Lee onto the bed. Kirstie moved out of his way. Then she grabbed the knife and hacked at the rope.

‘You!’ Lee ran at Terry, fists flying. ‘You killed my dad, you bastard!’

Terry dodged him. ‘Don’t be so stupid,’ he cried.

‘But you told me you had!’

‘That was to get you to tell me where Kirstie was.’

‘Then where is he?’

‘What does he mean, Dad?’ Kirstie asked.

‘You’re lying!’ said Lee.

‘No, you’re the liar!’ Kirstie shouted. ‘You were only out for yourself. You tried to set me up.’

‘I never! Kirst, you have to tell him that it was you! You were the one who killed your mother.’

Seeing that Kirstie was now through the rope, Terry snatched the knife from her. He pushed Lee up against the wall and held it to his throat.

‘Leave me alone!’ Lee pawed at Terry.

Kirstie screamed. ‘No, Dad!’ Free at last, she grabbed Terry’s arm.