Perfect Intentions: Sometimes justice is above the law (24 page)

Holt was furious as he drove. How could he have been so blind? She’d tricked him; she’d led him to believe she was helping with the case when all the time she’d been using him to make sure she’d always be one step ahead. Tears started rolling down his face at the betrayal. He’d started having feelings for her and believed she felt something for him. And what about all the victims, tortured and murdered so callously while he’d enjoyed dinner made by the same hands that had caused all the carnage? He’d almost had one of his own thrown off the force because of this woman

His mind was filled with snippets of past conversations and distracted,  he had had to swerve hard to avoid a car pulling out in front of him. He cursed the driver quietly under his breath and then resumed his thoughts. By the time he got to Loretta’s office car park, he was practically foaming at the mouth. He was shocked to see Henson’s car sitting outside the front door. The surprise of seeing it forced him to recompose himself. Leaving the car and straightening his tie and jacket, he strode purposefully through the door. The receptionist was nowhere to be seen and he continued through to Loretta’s office. The door was open as he approached.

Inside at her desk, serene as ever, sat Loretta. In front of her Henson had his hands on the desk, almost shouting a series of questions at her. Loretta, who had been quietly regarding the young DC, looked up slowly, catching Holt’s eye.

“Hello, Inspector.” Her voice sounded different somehow, cold.

As soon as Loretta had spoken, Henson swung around to face Holt.

“Inspector?”

“How did you get here before me?”

“Wright radioed me and told me about the phone call; I figured you’d be coming straight here. Also it turns out that the good doctor here was responsible for the shutdown of Adam Woodacres website.”

As Holt went to query the statement, he faltered. Loretta, who now had Henson’s back to her, had picked up the fountain pen she had been using, and in one fell movement plunged it deep into the side of Henson’s neck
.. Holt ran forward and held Henson as he slid to the floor, trying to keep the pen steady so as not to make the wound worse. Cradling Henson’s head in his lap, he called for an ambulance and additional support. He looked at Loretta with contempt as she settled back into her chair. As Holt looked up at her, his voice was barely a whisper as he spoke.

“Why?”

“Don’t worry, he won’t die. You have to admit he was irritating, and I don’t appreciate being barked at. This should quiet him down some. Maybe now he’ll have a little more empathy for victims of violent crimes. You know, you should be thanking me; that pen cost a lot less than sensitivity training courses, and the benefits will stay with him for his whole life. Maybe you could put the idea forward at your next annual review.”

Holt knelt, staring at Loretta with incomprehension. Was this really the same woman he had relied upon? She had seemed so understanding and made him feel at home in her apartment. He watched her as she sat calmly regarding him.

“Why aren’t I trying make my escape? Is that what you were about to ask?”

“Yes.”

“Very simple: I don’t want Dean to die.”

“He’s still alive?” Holt was amazed; never would he have believed that that boy wasn’t dead already.

“You’re surprised. You know, I’m not a complete monster, and besides, I want to spend some more time with you before my inevitable carting off to some secure wing.”

“What do you mean spend some more time with me? As soon as this comes to light, I’ll be taken off the case for personal involvement.”

“So you’d agree we’ve become close, Holt? You know, I’m actually quite fond of you.”

“Exactly—they certainly won’t allow you to be interviewed by me.” Holt paused then, looking down once more at the wounded Henson.

“And besides, I don’t ever want to see you again.” Holt’s voice was flat.

“You surely don’t expect me to volunteer the information to anyone else? This is our investigation. I want to see if you’ve learnt anything from me these last few months.”

Holt sat staring at her.

“I’m not patronising you for the sake of it; I believe we can all take something from this experience. Whether they allow it or not is inconsequential to me in the long term. I fear Mrs Matthews and the delightful press might think otherwise, however.”

As she finished speaking, police and ambulance crew burst into the office. Quickly the paramedics rushed to Henson and removed him. The PCs waited for Holt to acknowledge them. Holt, still stunned, turned to face Loretta.

“Loretta Armstrong, I am arresting you for the murders of Simon Reeves, Matt Reynolds, Jon Hamilton, and Richard Abbott, for the abduction of Dean Matthews, and for assaulting a police officer”

Holt turned to face PC Bannerman.

“Read her
her rights and get her to the station."

Holt turned and left, leaving a confused PC Bannerman to deal with Loretta.

Holt found himself back at his car, and opening the door he got inside. Sitting there, he contemplated what had just happened. In his rear view mirror, he watched as his one-time ally was shepherded into the back of a squad car. He felt almost lightheaded as he put the key in the ignition. Following the squad car out of the car park, he proceeded back to the station.

At the station, Holt went to the interview room where Loretta was waiting.

“Hello again, Jimmy.” Loretta’s voice had become warm once more, and this irritated Holt.

“My name is Inspector Holt.” Holt kept his voice flat.

Holt was aware she was mocking him, but he ignored it. Holt felt exhausted, even though he’d heard that Henson was going to be ok.  He now knew, sitting in the same room as the local serial killer and his once close friend that he didn’t think he could deal with the upcoming interview and interrogation.

“Where is Dean?”

“He‘s safe. So tell me, Inspector Holt, have you missed me?”

Holt was caught off guard by the question. He decided to be honest, hoping that this would please her enough that she would let him know where Dean was.

“Yes, I did.” Holt had his elbow on the table with his hand supporting his head.

   “You are still shocked, aren’t you? That a woman could have done this.”

Holt forced his face up to meet her gaze.

“To be honest, yes.”

“Well, I have no sympathy for you, then.”

Holt was confused by the statement, but decided to leave it and try another line of questioning.             

“Why the mask?”

“We all wear masks every day of our lives, we pretend to be different people to different people. Why do we do that?”

Holt was becoming frustrated; he wasn’t sure he was capable of getting a straight answer out of her, and exhaling loudly, he sat back in his chair

“Do you think you could give the pop psychology a rest for a bit? You know you can help yourself—you can tell me where Dean is.” Holt quietly hoped that the directness of the question might elicit a useful response.

“Tell you? Why would I tell you? It’s up to you to work it out; believe it or not, you are capable. Think about it.”

Holt sat thinking for a minute, the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. He had to force his mind to calm down enough for logical thought to return.

What did he know about Dean? He was young and reckless, not averse to mixing with the less acceptable side of society, but still living at home with a mother and younger sister. He was only nineteen and had a hot temper, not helped by binge drinking and occasional drug use. For all intents and purposes, he was a CHAV.

“He’s a CHAV.”

Completely ignoring the statement, Loretta looked up at Holt.

“Do you know what I do? I help people—I protect them from themselves. True, recently I have become a little more hands-on in my approach to therapy, but the results are undeniable.”

“What? Butchered bodies littering the landscape—that’s your idea of good therapy, is it?”

“You aren’t listening to me, Inspector. Maybe you should go and find Dean.” Loretta’s voice was friendly, almost advisory.

Holt got up and left the room. It was the first time in his career he had been dismissed by a serial killer.

PC Bannerman was waiting as Holt left the interview room.

“So where should we start searching?”

Holt thought back to his previous meetings with Loretta.

“Bannerman, do you know what CHAV means?”

“CHAV? Trouble, as far as I’m concerned”

“But does it mean anything? A shortening of something?”

“Well, the word CHAV is an acronym.”

“What for?”

“Council Houses And Violence.”

“Council houses? But Dean doesn’t live in a council house, but maybe that’s not the point.” The last part was spoken quietly, as if underlining the point to himself. Suddenly Holt’s gaze snapped up to meet PC Bannerman’s eyes.

“Bannerman, what’s the biggest council house or building you can think of?”

“Well, the council offices, obviously, but they haven’t even laid the foundations for them yet.”

“Maybe somebody’s already started with our Mr Matthews. Notify the ambulance crew and let’s get over there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Just over an hour later, Dean had been discovered in a porta-loo on the council offices building site. The relief of finding him had had a noticeable effect on the mood of the entire police force. The ambulance crew had checked him over and he seemed fine, although still a little groggy from the effects of the anaesthetic that had been administered, the packaging for which had been found, quite helpfully, with him. Holt decided to go with Dean to the hospital, and as Holt got into the back of the ambulance, he turned briefly to PC Bannerman.

“Could you go and pick Mrs Matthews up and bring her to the hospital, please?”

“Of course, sir.”  Bannerman’s face split into a wide smile; the relief of going to tell a relative good news for a change was evident.

In the ambulance, Dean was drifting in and out of consciousness; clearly the strain of the last four days had taken effect. From what Holt could make out, after the initial anaesthetic had been given, Dean had found himself awake a little later with no idea of what time it was, as it was dark. Dean had started to panic. In that moment of panic, Dean had felt something knock against his leg, and he realised water had been left for him. He hadn’t wanted to drink it, but given his circumstances, he hadn’t had much choice. After that, Dean had drifted in and out of consciousness until the police had found him. The water bottle was coming to the hospital with them for analysis; Holt wasn’t sure exactly what they’d find, but if it turned out the water had been laced with sleeping tablets, he wouldn’t be surprised.

Just over a mile away on the other side of town, a squad car pulled up outside Lauren Matthews house. PC Bannerman got out of the car and replaced his hat. Looking across at WPC Wright, he smiled.

“I never thought I would going to be giving good news to Mrs Matthews.”

“I know, it is a bit unreal, isn’t it? I can’t believe we caught her. Finally I can get a proper night’s sleep.”

Walking up to the front door, Bannerman took a deep breath and knocked. After a few moments the door swung open. Mrs Matthews’s face was drained of colour and the look in her eyes told them they were the last people she wanted to see.

“Have you found him? Is he dead?”

She was so consumed by her own terror that she had failed to notice that both the officers were smiling.

“No, Mrs Matthews, far from it. We’ve come to take you to him, he’s at the hospital.’

“Hospital? Oh my God, what happened to him?”

“As far as we can tell, nothing; he’s in one piece.”

“Oh thank God, thank God.” She broke down into sobs and WPC Wright took her by the arm and led her to the car. As Wright opened the door for Lauren, Alice came running up the street, a look of confusion and fear on her face as she saw her distraught mother being helped into the back of a squad car. Seeing this, Bannerman moved quickly.

“It’s ok, love, your brother’s been found alive and well, and we’re just taking your mum to see him now—do you want to come, too?”

Nodding at Bannerman, she followed her mum into the back of the car. Bannerman pulled the Matthews’ front door closed, making sure the latch had dropped, and he went to join the crowd now waiting patiently in the car.

At the hospital Holt waited at Dean’s beside until Bannerman and Wright arrived with the Matthews family. Lauren Matthews practically ran the length of the ward to her son; she barely noticed Holt sitting on the other side of the bed. Eventually she looked up.

“So you’ve caught him, then?”

“Yes. The killer has indeed been apprehended.”

Lauren sat for a moment, digesting all that had happened in the last few days. Holt got up to leave, and as he did, Lauren caught his eye.

“Thank you.”

The words had barely been a whisper, and Holt felt his demeanour starting to crumble. He nodded at Lauren and left the ward.