Page 76 of Twisted Lies

At the southern border of an eight-acre field was an area of scorched earth and sodden ash. In the bush line was a discarded fuel can.

The ashes had been painstakingly collected and removed for analysis.

Although the weather and local wildlife had played havoc with the forensic collection, they had managed to sift enough to find remnants of clothing and jewellery, handbag and purse, and bones from the forearm and teeth that had both matched Trisha’s DNA.

Morley had been arrested and had not spoken except through his lawyer ever since. He’d been charged with the murder of his wife two days later.

Frost couldn’t help putting herself in Trisha’s position. The constant fear she must have felt every day, the physical pain she endured.

Frost found herself wondering if she’d known that the violence was escalating to the point where she would lose her life.

She hobbled to the kitchen for a coffee refill, willing her muscles to loosen up. She’d started this week wanting only to give Trisha a voice, a whisper amongst the shouting from Nick’s camp. She’d wanted to remind people that there was a victim, a woman who had suffered horrifically at this man’s hand, but the injustice of the situation was growing more ferocious inside her. Trisha had been with her for every waking moment, and just the thought that the bastard responsible was most likely going to walk free and resume his life was now abhorrent to her.

She no longer wanted to report the outcome. She wanted to change it. She just didn’t have the first clue how.

Sixty-Four

‘Nothing yet on victim three, boss,’ Penn said as she walked in the door.

Kim nodded as she took her jacket and hung it up in her office. Bryant took the opportunity to update them on the crime scene they’d just visited.

Stacey’s eyes were wide as she listened. Even Penn wore an expression of shock, but the statue at the spare desk showed no trace of emotion.

Kim couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her for her to either ignore or close off her emotional response.

‘Okay, enough on that,’ she said, pouring from the pot. It wasn’t an image she wanted to revisit over and over again.

‘Did you get photos?’ Penn asked.

And sometimes she worried about Penn’s emotional response more than others.

She raised one eyebrow in his direction before turning her attention to Stacey.

‘What do we have on victim two in Somerset?’

She glanced at Stacey’s screen, which linked directly to the case in Clevedon and was updating in real time.

‘His name is Dennis Burke and lives about three miles from the crime scene. The team down there has informed his wife and teenage daughter and are now doing door-to-door enquiries and visiting his workplace at a sheet metal manufacturing plant. His post-mortem is due in about half an hour and Forensics are still at the scene.’

Kim nodded her understanding. Now she knew what Lynes was dealing with, she wanted to know what they were dealing with.

Kim turned her attention to Leanne. The woman stared back at her.

‘If I look at you, you speak.’

‘Sorry, I’m not as well trained as the rest of your team.’

Kim bit back any reply. It didn’t do her team good to see her being petty. She continued to stare. Waiting.

‘Dennis Burke was previously named Adam Hawthorne, a graphic designer from Manchester. Out one night with some old college friends, he got separated from his buddies and witnessed the gang rape and murder of a twenty-year-old girl. His testimony secured convictions against two of the four attackers.’

‘Leaving two still free?’ Kim asked.

Leanne nodded. ‘He was placed in protection after his young daughter, who was eleven at the time, came home with a broken arm and a warning.’

Who the hell would use an eleven-year-old girl to send a message? Kim asked herself. Clearly people who were prepared to do a whole lot worse.

‘Graphic designer to sheet metal worker?’ Kim asked.