Page 107 of Twisted Lies

She had now collated all the phone records for the victims for the twenty-four hours before their murders. She had more data but it made sense to work outwards from the last time the phones were used.

Four sheets lay before her, placed in order that the bodies had been found. Keith Phipps, Dennis Burke, Dean Mullins and Sarah Lessiter.

She looked over them all first, just a cursory glance, allowing her brain time to pick out anything obvious. She pushed all thoughts from her head and just gazed at each piece of paper in turn. She was reminded of those 3D Magic Eye posters, where you had to force your eyes to relax before your brain could do the work of showing you the actual image.

She scrunched up her eyes as they passed from one sheet to the next and stopped as a number near the bottom of Sarah’s sheet jumped out at her.

‘What the devil are you doing there?’ she asked, tapping the page.

Ninety-One

The first thing Kim noticed about Sarah Lessiter’s home was the level of security. Sited on the top corner of the property was a pan-tilt-zoom camera that covered the front and around the side. The sensor told her it was motion activated. As she stepped into the brick porch of the old Victorian end terrace, she saw another camera in the top left pointed down at the spot where they stood. There wasn’t anybody getting in her house without her getting a good look at them first.

The door was opened by a PC who nodded towards an ornate archway that led into the lounge.

Kim was relieved that for once she was not the one delivering the news.

The PC sitting on the sofa tapped the man’s arm, stood and joined her colleague at the door.

‘Mr Lessiter, may I say how sorry we are for your loss,’ she said, taking a seat.

Dale Lessiter raised a pale face with reddened eyes up towards her.

In that one glance, she felt the full force of his grief.

A brief look around had told her there were no children or pets; there were no toys or photos of anything other than the couple appearing to be laughing and happy in a number of different locations.

The lounge held one of the largest televisions she’d ever seen, and the reclining sofas were aimed towards it. Sound bars and speakers were placed strategically around the room. It was a space fashioned for adults and told Kim just how Sarah had enjoyed unwinding after a long day at work.

‘Is there anyone we can call?’

He shook his head. ‘There’s just Sarah’s mum, but I can’t call her yet, not yet. She’ll need me to be strong and right now…’

He allowed the words to trail away, and Kim understood that right now he couldn’t be any support to anyone else.

Kim idly wondered at their circle of friends. Did they keep to themselves due to the nature of Sarah’s job? Some couples existed with friends and colleagues on both sides as well as shared acquaintances, filling their spare time with the company of others. And then there were couples who existed on their own island with few friends. She suspected the Lessiters were the latter. Her sympathy for the partner left behind just went up a gear.

‘The officer…’ he whispered, nodding towards the door, ‘said she was murdered. Is that true?’

Kim nodded.

He shook his head. ‘We always knew there was danger involved but this. I mean we never really…’

‘How much did you know about your wife’s work, Mr Lessiter?’ she asked gently.

‘Not much. Only her job but never the families she worked with; I understood that and— Is that what this is about? Has someone found the people she was protecting?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Lessiter, but—’

He waved away her response. It wasn’t important. It wasn’t going to bring her back.

‘And how was Sarah with her work?’ Kim asked.

‘She had good and bad days like everyone else. Some days she came home pissed off and annoyed if people refused to listen to her, if they didn’t take their own safety seriously. Last few months have been a bit hard on her, I think.’

Remembering her previous meeting with Mona Atkins, Kim could certainly understand why.

‘She loved her job, Inspector. She did everything she was supposed to: she kept secrets; she changed her routes; she left the house in the middle of the night when needed and—’