Dying Truth: completely gripping crime thriller (Detective Kim Stone) (Volume 8)

She knew his attitude to performance appraisals was much like her own. He assumed he was doing a good job until he heard otherwise and not the other way around.

‘Yep, we’re done,’ she said, taking the single piece of paper from her pocket.

‘Hang on one second,’ Kim said, seeing it with fresh eyes. She narrowed her gaze and remembered what Joanna had told her. See the whole picture, read the words, read the page.

‘Fuck,’ she said, looking at Bryant. ‘It’s here. It’s right here.’

‘What is it that I’m not seeing?’ he asked, taking another look at Sadie’s poem.

Kim pointed. ‘Look closer. Ignore the words for a second and just look.’

He shook his head. ‘If I’m not supposed to look at the words…’

‘Here,’ she said, stabbing at the page. ‘Each word that starts the sentence. About. Broken. Obstructed…’

‘Aborted,’ he said. ‘If you read those capital letters from the top it spells aborted.’

‘Someone has done something they shouldn’t have done, and Sadie knew all about it,’ Kim said. Finally, they were heading towards a possible motive for the young girl’s death.

‘You think one of the students at Heathcrest had an illegal abortion?’

‘Could be,’ she said. ‘And with how everyone feels about scandal…’

‘But there are over five hundred girls at that school. How the hell are we going to find out who?’

Her excitement took a kick in the head. He was right. She suspected the girl was not suddenly going to come forward and reveal herself.

‘Hang on,’ she said, turning the problem on its head. ‘Bryant, remember everything Dawson has told us about those clubs at Heathcrest? That they were filled with powerful people, and you were a member for life?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, not yet catching up with her thoughts.

‘Where would you go if you found yourself in a spot of trouble?’ Kim asked, already dialling Stacey’s number.

‘Dawson still with you?’ Kim asked when she heard her colleague’s voice.

‘Yep,’ she answered.

‘I want you both to drop whatever you’re working on. There’s something I need you to do.’





Sixty-Five





‘Every doctor that was previously at Heathcrest?’ Dawson asked, incredulously.

‘Yeah, Kev, because twenty years of Heathcrest graduates multiplied by one hundred and ten students per year that graduate means two thousand students to check,’ she said, sarcastically.

‘But the boss said…’

‘Jesus, Kev. Put your thinking head on. The boss expects us to work out how to do this on our own, you know. We’re probably talking private clinics within a radius of say ten to twenty miles. So, we do it backwards. We look at the clinics and hospitals and see how many doctors came from Heathcrest.’

‘But that might still—’

‘And then we look at the year they graduated. If it’s someone the parents of a child knew it’s not gonna be someone who left seven years ago, is it?’

‘Why seven?’ he asked.

‘Medical training,’ she said, widening her eyes. ‘Jesus, it’s like you just hatched or something.’

Dawson shook his head as Stacey began typing, amazed at the speed and logic that lived inside her head.

‘Did she say why we’re doing this?’

Stacey offered him a murderous glance. ‘Seems Joanna Wade was interested in illegal terminations, twenty-four weeks and over if you want that explained for you too. And after all your yapping about secret clubs and lifelong societies she wants us to look in that direction.’

‘Got it,’ he said.

‘Any more questions?’ she asked.

‘Just one, Stace. Do you still love me even though I’m thick?’ he asked, with a grin.

‘Bloody hell, Kev, just crack on, will yer and get looking?’

Following her instruction, he put his head down and began to search. Except he’d had a different idea of where to look.





Sixty-Six





Kim followed Mrs Winters through to the informal lounge. Mr Winters placed his laptop beside him on the sofa.

Her stomach was still reacting to what they’d found on Joanna’s phone, but for now, she had to let Stacey and Dawson do their job. She needed answers right here.

Mrs Winters moved the laptop and took a seat beside her husband, reaching for his hand.

Kim sat opposite in a chair next to an ornate fireplace filled with cards of condolence, best wishes at this time and sorry for your loss. The wall to the left was filled with family photos displayed in a descending chronology.

‘Mr Winters, Mrs Winters, we need to ask you a couple of questions about Sadie and the medication she was taking,’ Kim said, gently but firmly.

Mrs Winters coloured and looked to the floor.

A few seconds passed before Mr Winters answered.

‘She needed help,’ he said, simply.

‘With what?’ Kim asked.

They were not going to get off that lightly.

‘Mood swings, feelings of depression, anxiety.’

‘So, you gave her your own medication?’ Kim asked, looking to Mrs Winters.

She did not raise her head, letting her husband do all the talking.

‘Did you try to get her any help?’ Kim asked. ‘Like an appointment with her GP or a counsellor?’

‘There’s no better counsellor than the one at Heathcrest but she wouldn’t talk to anyone. She just clammed up, and I suppose we just wanted to help make her feel better.’

It seemed clear they’d made no effort to get to the bottom of her withdrawal. Had it not occurred to them that Sadie’s problems had started when her sister had become the superstar of the family?

‘That’s why we weren’t surprised at the news of her—’

‘Murder,’ Kim interrupted. This couple seemed determined to believe that their child had taken her own life.

‘And you asked Saffron to hide the pills from us?’ Kim asked.

Mr Winters nodded. ‘We didn’t want anyone to know,’ he said, honestly.

‘I understand that, Mr Winters, but with all due respect you have done little to aid the investigation into the death of your daughter. You have removed evidence and withheld important information. I understand that reputation and appearances are important but is there anything else you’re not sharing with us?’

Despite her neutral tone it was clear by his face that he did not appreciate the chastisement but, grieving parents or not, it was not their prerogative to judge what was relevant and what was not.

‘There is nothing more,’ he said, glancing away. ‘And you’re right. We shouldn’t ever have asked Saffie to touch her things.’

Slightly mollified that he at least understood the gravity of what they’d done she continued. ‘And how is Saffron coping?’ Kim asked. ‘She’s still not come home?’

Mr Winters shook his head. ‘She’s busy at school. It helps to keep her mind off it. Too many reminders here,’ he said, glancing at the photo wall.

Kim wondered if these parents could see the irony in the display. The photos at the top of the wall were portraits of them all. Below were photos of the two girls together. One so dark and one so light but laughing and close. And then two lines, one of each girl vertically travelling down the wall, separate.

‘And you don’t think it’s a good idea to insist that she come home, given the death of a second child at—’

‘Oh God, poor Anthony and Louise,’ Mrs Winters said, shaking her head.

Mr Winters squeezed her hand. ‘We met the Coffee-Todds a few times, at social functions at the school.’

‘Do you know the parents of Christian Fellows, the boy left hanging in the janitor’s room yesterday?’ Kim asked.

Mr Winters shook his head. ‘I don’t think we’ve ever met.’

‘And you know that a teacher was killed last night?’ she asked.

‘Road accident, Principal Thorpe said.’

‘She was run down by a vehicle, Mr Winters,’ Kim corrected. ‘Which is currently being investigated.’

‘Clearly unrelated,’ he said.

Kim looked to Bryant, wondering if any words were actually coming out of her mouth.

‘And you still don’t think that your other daughter should be safely home here with you?’ she asked, incredulously.

Bryant sat forward. ‘Three separate deaths in one week is probably nudging above the national average, Mr Winters, so if my daughter—’

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