Page 103 of First Blood

She could hear the excitement in his voice.

‘Oh, Stacey wants you back,’ he said, and she could hear the dip in his voice.

Too late she realised she should have forced the words out. She had allowed her feelings about his earlier performance in the week to colour her view.

‘Boss, I’ve got an address,’ Stacey said.

‘Text, it to me,’ she said, thinking only of finding Carl Wickes.

Dawson would just have to wait.

Chapter Ninety-Four

There was no van parked in the street of Carl Wickes’s address in Tipton.

The flat was on the ground floor of a large house converted into four separate dwellings and from what she could see the only window visible to them had the curtains drawn.

‘But what the hell did he have to gain?’ Bryant asked, as they approached the front door.

‘We’ll be sure to ask him once we find him,’ she said.

When asked to explain the attempt at subterfuge, Curt had explained that Carl had a hot date and needed to get away. He explained they’d done it loads of times in the past. When asked if any of those occasions had involved talking to police officers working a murder investigation he seemed to finally grasp the gravity of the situation.

Curt had tried to get his brother on the phone but it had gone straight to voicemail.

Neither she nor Bryant believed the hot date story. She believed the man was on a mission.

‘I think that our killer was abused himself. Perhaps his abuser read nursery rhymes to him before inflicting the abuse. He experienced something that should have been so innocent followed by absolute horror. That’s why he’s acting out the darker meanings to the nursery rhymes because that’s his association. The darkness.’

‘Makes sense,’ he agreed. ‘So, you think the twins were sexually abused as young boys?’

She nodded. ‘I think one of them was. Louella was clear that Marianne collects lost souls who have suffered just as she did.’

‘But how does that help us? Cos I don’t think he’s here, guv,’ Bryant said, as they approached the front door. He covered his mouth to stifle a yawn.

She checked her watch. So far it had been a thirteen-hour shift.

Sometimes, she had a tendency to forget the limitations and commitments of her fellow team members, especially when she felt they were on to something.

‘Let’s just confirm he’s not here and then we’d best call it a night and start fresh in the morning.’

Bryant knocked on the door and they waited.

He knocked again.

Nothing.

Kim leaned down and tried to look through the letter box. The brushes located on the other side obscured her view. But she could hear the eerie sound of empty silence beyond the door.

She suspected Bryant was right and the man was not at home.

‘Just try his phone again,’ she said, wondering if he’d turned it back on and if it would sound beyond the door.

She couldn’t rid herself of the vision of him hiding in the wardrobe.

Bryant did as she asked and shook his head. ‘Straight to voicemail.’

She pushed at the door.