Page 13 of Twisted Lies
‘Great. Leave it with me and I’ll get the ball rolling, okay?’
‘O… Okay, boss, thanks,’ Stacey said, rising from the seat.
Kim logged into her computer to start the process.
She had been lucky enough to witness the growth of the constable, but the time had come for change.
Nine
‘I know what that was about, you know,’ Bryant said, once they were in the car.
‘Good work, Sherlock,’ she retorted. ‘If this chauffeuring thing doesn’t work out, you could always try—’
‘You do realise that if she makes sergeant, one of us will have to go.’
‘And you’d better hope I don’t get to choose which one,’ she snapped, knowing full well that he was right; but the choice would not be up to her. A team of four wouldn’t contain three detective sergeants. The likelihood was that Stacey would be moved on to another team. Not a thought that appealed to her, but the woman had too much potential to be ignored.
‘It’s the right thing, Bryant,’ she said more to herself than anyone.
He paused for a moment and then continued. ‘On a lighter note, it was kinda funny that Frost passed out, don’t you think?’ he asked with a devilish smile.
They had chosen not to share that detail of the crime scene with the rest of the team. Funny as it was, it only served to remind them that Frost wasn’t quite as tough as she’d have them believe. It was about the only funny thing at the crime scene, she thought, looking out the window as Bryant continued to drive in silence.
There were many aspects to this murder to consider. The logistics of the crime told her their murderer was organised. He’d scouted a location where he could torture and kill at his leisure. He had planned exactly how he wanted to do it, got all the equipment there and sat and watched. And that was what she kept coming back to. It had to be one of the most horrific crime scenes she’d ever witnessed. What kind of monster were they dealing with and why this victim? There were few crimes that deserved such punishment.
‘I think it’s just up here,’ Bryant said as he turned off the main Halesowen Road onto a side street in Old Hill.
A line of six small, terraced houses backed onto a chip shop and a small fastener supplier.
‘Never even knew this was here,’ she observed as Bryant pulled into a space at the end of the road.
‘Yeah, it is kind of hidden.’
Kim got out of the car still weighing up just how much she was going to share with the family members.
The question of whether a victim suffered came up with most grieving relatives. There were times she could dodge the question and avoid the truth, but there was no way of sugar-coating this one. Eventually they would have to know. Pain upon pain.
‘Ready?’ Bryant asked before knocking on the front door.
‘No, but best do it anyway.’
The door opened before Bryant’s arm rested back at his side.
The woman who answered was tall and slim, similar to Kim’s own five foot nine height. She wore faded jeans, ankle boots and a sweatshirt. Her hair was a short, sleek, chestnut helmet.
‘Mrs Phipps?’ Kim asked, and wasn’t surprised at the shake of the head.
‘I’m her sister, Leanne. Who are you?’ she asked without stepping aside.
Both she and Bryant offered their identification. Panic shot into her eyes but still she didn’t move.
‘Is Mrs Phipps here?’ Kim asked.
‘She is but what’s this about?’
Kim had patience for a grieving family, but it wasn’t an endless supply. Especially for people who were delaying her efforts to do her job.
‘It concerns her husband, but I’d rather speak to Mrs Phipps.’
