Taunting the Dead (42 page)

‘I got to wondering if you had any property beyond the areas of the city. I trawled through the land registers but I couldn’t find anything registered to you. I did find a four-acre plot in Steph’s maiden name.’ She turned to him. ‘Do you need me to continue?’

‘You can’t prove any of this.’ Terry shook his head in disbelief. ‘You don’t have a –’

‘A body.’ Allie played her trump card. ‘Oh, but you see, I do. Because late last night, Shane Flint and Mitch Casey told me where they’d disposed of Phil Kennedy, as well as his car.’

‘Where
they
had disposed of him? But that still doesn’t –’

‘Along with the clothes that they took from you. Along with the gloves that you wore. Along with the knives you used. Along with the hammer you used. Apparently they’ve done that at every place that you asked them to dispose of a body. Steve Kennedy told them to.’ She stood up as her officers approached. ‘I was surprised that they coughed up so easily, given your reputation, but I suppose everyone has a tipping point. Or perhaps they were more concerned about what will happen to them once Steve Kennedy finds out they were involved in the murder of his brother. This way they can hang it all on you.’

‘They did a deal?’

Allie turned to smile at him now. ‘Let’s say they’re still helping us with our enquiries.’

‘You fucking –’ Terry lunged at her but Matt and Perry, steps away by now, intervened. Allie moved to one side as Terry was handcuffed and cautioned. Then, with a heavy heart but one full of satisfaction, she made her way back towards the mourners. She beckoned Kirstie over. Before she lost both of her parents, it was the least she could do to explain everything to her.

‘You okay, Sarge?’ Sam asked just before Kirstie drew level.

‘Yes,’ she told her. ‘I do believe I am.’

Allie smiled. Was it poignant that she had done this at Steph Ryder’s funeral? She would like to think so. She held her head high and felt the icy wind blow over her. Thank God she’d been strong enough to resist the charmer. Things could have been so different.

EPILOGUE – NEW YEAR’S EVE

Allie pushed open the reception door of Riverdale Residential Home and bustled in out of the cold. Music played low in the background and the lights on the Christmas tree sparkled as if trying to keep in time with the music. She’d left behind the smell of snow in the air and the sky looking full of it but for now it was only a mere promise and she relished the heat that engulfed her as she entered the building.

Miriam Walters wasn’t on reception duties today. It was Mick Irvine’s turn. Mick had been at Riverdale for a couple of years now and her sister’s face always lit up whenever he came into her room. He was a tall, gangly man in his late twenties but with the swagger of a teen. His dyed black hair suited him far more than it should and, although cut into a funky style, most of it was hidden today underneath a beanie hat. He smiled a welcome.

‘New Year’s Eve, already,’ he said. ‘Where do the years go? Karen’s in her room. She was a bit tired from her physio yesterday but apart from that she’s been fine.’

‘Thanks, Mick.’ Allie smiled back before heading down the corridor.

Karen was awake when she entered the room. Sat in her wheelchair, she’d been positioned to look out over the garden. She was wearing a jumper that Allie had bought her that Christmas. Her freshly washed hair was held back by an Alice band and she had a tiny bit of pink lipstick left.

‘Hey, chick.’ Allie leaned forward to kiss her forehead. ‘How are you doing?’

Karen smiled and blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to make a sound that was recognisable as a word. But Allie finished off for her.

‘That good, hmm?’ She checked the CD in the player, selected a track and sat down opposite her. ‘Let’s have a bit of Wham
before we can’t play it again until next year. “Last Christmas.” What do you reckon?’

She hung up her coat before pulling up a chair.

‘So, how’s tricks? You been out gallivanting with Mick lately?’ She took her sister’s hand in her own.

A knock on the door and Mick popped his head around the frame.

‘Talk of the devil,’ Allie grinned at him.

‘This has just been delivered, Allie.’

Mick handed her a white rectangular box. It was tied with red ribbon. She noticed the name Fresh Bloomers
woven into it here and there and frowned. That was the florist Terry Ryder had used to send her the bouquet of flowers after the charity event. A quick examination of the box revealed no addressee on it. There was no card, no tiny envelope.

‘How did you know it was for Karen?’ Allie shouted to Mike, who was disappearing out of view. He popped his head around the frame again.

‘It had the room number on the delivery note.’

‘Thanks.’ She nodded and let him go on his way. Karen made a noise. Allie lifted the box for her to see. ‘It’s for you, Karen. It looks a strange shape for flowers, though.’

The ribbon slid off easily and she placed the box onto Karen’s bed. She shrugged off the lid. Wrapped in white paper tissue was a single red rose. Allie lifted it out to show her sister, careful to watch for the thorns. It was then she noticed the blank envelope underneath it. She pulled out the card inside and read the message.

Karen, until we meet again, my fallen angel.

One day you will be all mine.

And you, little sister, Allie.

Don’t you ever stop looking for me.

Allie gasped. She dropped the rose and it fell to the floor. Delicate petals came away from its base, scattering the carpet at her feet like confetti. She shuddered as realisation sank in. The rose must be from Karen’s attacker. Why now? Why, after all these years? How did he know that Karen was here? And how did he know that she would be here, too?

She raced to the window, her eyes scanning every car as it drove past. The car park to her right showed no signs of movement. On the pavement in front, a man walked past with his dog. Was it him? Would he look up? In the grounds below, a man was balanced on a ladder, pulling down Christmas lights on the outside tree. Was it him? Would he look up?

Allie stared for ages but there was nothing to be seen. It was hopeless anyway. Even if he was watching, he wouldn’t have known she would look out of the window right at that very moment.

No, he wouldn’t be watching.

Would he?

The End

The End

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ALSO BY MEL SHERRATT 

A New Series, THE ESTATE

Somewhere to Hide (The Estate, Book one)

Welcome to The Estate - a hint of SHAMELESS, a dash of EASTENDERS, a sprinkling of THE ACCUSED, plus a murder or two...

Liz, with her young daughter, runs from her husband, the man who has beaten her senseless on several occasions.
Sixteen-year-old Becky stabs her uncle before he abuses her again and makes a run for it.
Back in prison after selling her body for drugs, Cheryl will be out soon with no one to turn to.
All three are looking for somewhere to stay.
Following the tragic death of her husband, Cathy Mason opens her home to young women who need a roof over their head and a sympathetic ear. But strange things start to happen - malicious notes are posted through her door, her belongings trashed and a homeless teenager is found murdered. Cathy reckons it’s just part of daily life on the estate but when those she cares about most fall prey to violence, she begins to suspect a past mistake is about to catch up with her - and she’s unsure that she’ll ever be ready for it...

SOMEWHERE TO HIDE is psychological suspense that will test your every emotion. So pound those streets, open those doors, pull back those curtains and take a peep into the lives of the people from The Estate – because you really wouldn’t want to live there…

Behind a Closed Door

The Estate, Book Two

Housing office Josie Mellor loves the community spirit of the notorious Mitchell Estate – when it doesn’t involve benefit cheats, aggression, or murder and mayhem, that is.
But it isn’t exactly a party for some of her tenants...
Kelly Winterton thinks Josie is sticking her nose in where it’s not wanted. Her partner’s just been packed off to prison and she’s left worrying how to fend for herself and her young daughter.
Charlotte Hatfield has fled from her violent partner. With four children in tow, she lives in fear of him finding her again.
Amy Cartwright has learning difficulties. She finds it hard enough looking out for herself and her six-month-old baby without being taken advantage of.
In the midst of it all, Josie has secrets of her own. Trapped in a loveless marriage, she struggles to escape her controlling husband. And as her home life deteriorates, she realises only a thin line separates her from the people she’s trying to help. Can Josie save herself and return the estate to relative normality when a spate of burglaries causes havoc and deadly violence erupts? Or will both she and her tenants become victims of violence that no one will see?
BEHIND A CLOSED DOOR - lies, dishonesty, heartbreak and betrayal... and the feeling that you’ll never trust anyone again.

Fighting for Survival

The Estate, Book Three

When Caren Williams finds herself back on the estate she fought so hard to get away from, little does she realise she’ll be living opposite her arch-enemy, Gina Bradley. Gina thinks she and her family rule Stanley Avenue so when Caren starts to become popular, she decides to hit her where it will hurt the most – she wants her husband.

Lonely and depressed, Ruth Millington turns to drinking and self-harm to get her through the dark times but finds it’s a constant struggle. Spiralling out of control, maybe she should let Gina’s husband help her out when he comes calling.

Twins, Rachel and Claire Bradley, took control of the girl-gang, the Mitchell Mob, when their leader was sent to juvie for assault. But Stacey Hunter is out now and wants to hold the position again. No one will back down – let battle commence.