Dark of Mind Page 11

  'That's how I feel, I keep thinking I should just have a termination and say nothing to anyone,' she paused, 'but then I imagine the baby and don't think I could ever go through with it,' she said as her eyes filled with tears again.

  'If your father was any use then you wouldn't be scared to tell him,' Belle said. 'The truth is you've lived your life trying to live up to his expectations and the fact is you never will, no matter how well you do in your exams.'

  Kelly watched as Faith blanched at Belle's words.

  'What are you saying exactly?'

  Belle thought for a moment before replying, fully aware of the dangers of trying to persuade Faith to go one way or the other. 'The main thing is what do you want? It's pointless asking for advice because different people will tell you different things,' she paused, 'but the child you are carrying didn't ask to be conceived. I think you're right about East, he won't stand by you, he's a totally selfish shit. I know you hate the thought of telling your father and I agree, neither of them needs to know. But can you live with the aftermath of a termination?'

  'I don't know,' Faith replied as the tears slid free.

  'That is all that matters,' Belle said. 'But you also have to consider how you would manage if you had the baby.'

  Kelly chewed her lip as she suddenly pictured Faith being cut off completely by her father, kicked out of the family home and told to ''never darken my door again''. It sounded archaic but Kelly knew it wasn't beyond the realms of possibility that Faith Hinton could find herself alone with no safety net to rely on.

  'I have no idea what I would do,' Faith admitted in a trembling voice.

  Belle and Kelly exchanged a quick glance, seeing the upset in each other's eyes.

  'If you do decide to tell your father then you don't have to do it alone,' Kelly said.

  'What do you mean?'

  'I was talking to Mum and she says my dad will come with you, or if you really can't face your father then he will go on his own and have a word with your father.'

  'He'd do that for me?' Faith asked in amazement.

  Kelly nodded. 'Believe me, Faith, he's a police officer so he won't just go steaming in there, he'll be diplomatic and perhaps your father will listen to him without losing his temper.'

  'You don't know my father, when he loses it then he goes off big time.'

  'Kelly's dad is used to that and he can be very persuasive when he needs to be,' Belle explained.

  Faith looked up at the clear blue sky and then she sighed. 'I need to really think about this, don't I?'

  Both Kelly and Belle nodded in unison.

  'Take your time, there's no rush,' Kelly offered. 'And remember, whatever you decide to do, whatever happens then you have us now to help you.'

  Faith managed a quivering smile as more tears slipped from her eyes, though this time they were tears of gratitude rather than abject fear.

  44

  Lasser and Odette stood back as Isabel knocked at the door of the small semi-detached house.

  The garden looked neat and tidy, the fence and gate had been recently painted a dull green by the council, the front window was covered by a set of floral curtains.

  Twenty seconds later, Isabel knocked again, a slight frown forming on her face when no one answered.

  'Problem?' Lasser asked.

  'Benny Foster is always at home when I call,' she explained.

  Moving forward, Lasser hammered on the door, the seconds ticked by and then he crouched down and lifted the flap of the letterbox, his face instantly turning sour as he detected the odious smell drifting from the house.

  'We need to get in there right now,' he said as he stood upright.

  Isabel could see the look of concern on his face as he stepped back.

  Half a second later, he slammed his foot into the door and Isabel winced as it crashed open.

  Stepping over the threshold, Lasser headed down the short hallway, Odette two steps behind with Isabel following in their wake, when they came to a sudden halt Isabel moved to one side and looked over Odette's shoulder, the gasp catching in her throat.

  'Oh no,' she murmured as she squeezed between them and hurried across the room, Lasser and Odette hesitating before stepping forward.

  'Bloody hell,' Lasser whispered in shock as he saw the woman on the floor, her huge bulk spread out on the carpet, crammed between the crumpled double bed and the wall.

  When Odette saw the three flies scuttling over the dead woman's legs she grimaced.

  Isabel crouched to her haunches, checking for a pulse that she knew wasn't there.

  Lasser could see the pack of tablets clasped in the woman's right hand, then he glanced at the bed, the sheet stained like old rust.

  'I'll check upstairs,' he said with a heavy sigh.

  Odette looked at him, she could see the sadness in his eyes, and she nodded. 'No problem.'

  Turning on his heels, Lasser left the room and headed up the stairs, reaching the landing he entered the first room on the right.

  The bed was unmade, the duvet scrunched, the woodchip paper on the wall painted magnolia, when he saw the bundle of clothes on the floor he felt the flicker of anger inside, the parka with the matted fur trim lay on top of the old dirty jeans, an off-white T-shirt poked out from the bottom of the pile.

  Walking over to the window he looked out just as Bannister pulled up at the front of the house, then Odette appeared below, and he watched as they spoke together then Bannister glanced up and raised a hand to Lasser.

  Turning away he looked around the room, his face thoughtful as he moved over to the side of the bed, the sheet looked as if it hadn't been changed in years, he could see sweat stains on the cotton and red smears that he suspected were blood.

  When Bannister appeared in the doorway, Lasser pointed down at the crumpled clothing, the DCI looked down, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the grimy parka. 'We've got the bugger,' he said in a voice devoid of triumph.

  'Yeah well, it looks as if Foster has changed his clothes,' Lasser said as he pointed to the grimy looking parka on the floor. 'The question is where is he now and what does he have planned next?'

  Bannister tried to think of a reply but in the end his shoulders slumped as he realised that they weren't out of the woods just yet.

  45

  Foster felt worn out, the late afternoon sun beat down like his own personal sunbed, sapping his energy as he tried to keep up the pace, though the traffic racing by only seemed to emphasise how slowly he was actually going.

  When he saw the bench by the side of the road, he slumped down, and gasped out in relief, his hair felt slick with sweat beneath the hood and for once he loosened the toggle and slid the phone free before putting it into his pocket and pushing the hood back.

  He could feel the heat escaping from his head as he eased back and tilted his head towards the blister-like sun, eyes closed as the muscles in his legs throbbed with fatigue.

  Seconds later, a truck went by and he relished the fleeting cool draft it made, the sweat drying on his face as he slid the zipper down on his new jacket.

  When he felt his stomach rumble he frowned as he suddenly realised he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten. Rummaging in his pocket he pulled out the two crumpled twenty-pound notes that had been left after he bought the clothes and wondered if he dared spend any on getting something to eat and drink. At the thought of food his mouth flooded with saliva and, suddenly feeling starving, he pushed himself to his feet, turned and set off walking again, the slight breeze filtering into his open jacket and cooling his fevered skin.

  Twenty minutes later he entered the park, a carrier bag held in his right hand, in the distance he could see a large lake, a scattering of ducks and Canadian geese floating on the water. Angling left he moved off the gravel path and onto the close-cropped grass, a huge bank of laurel bushes at his back deadening the sound of the traffic on the busy main road. Choosing his spot, he sat down with a sigh before lifting one of the pies from the bag and
taking a bite, smiling in appreciation as he swallowed the food. Raising his gaze, he looked over to the play area and the warning of his dead mother came floating into his mind. She had always cautioned him about going alone into parkland as if he was some paedophile looking for a child to snatch. Foster's face twisted in a scowl of disgust, how could she have ever thought that he would do something like that, something so abhorrent?

  When he saw the two women over at the play area look his way, he felt his face start to heat up, he took another bite of the pie, he could see three small children playing on the swings and slide, hear their laughter on the warm summer's air. Then surprisingly one of the women started to stride over the grass heading in his direction, and Foster felt the first flutter of unease as she approached. By the time she was fifteen feet away the unease had turned to fear as he saw the cold harsh expression on her sour face. She looked to be in her late twenties, her face framed with frizzy orange hair, dressed in jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt with an image of a daffodil emblazoned on the front, in her right hand she held a phone. When she was ten feet away, she lifted it up and pointed it at him.

  'What are you doing here?' she demanded.

  Benny Foster felt the fear slice through his mind as he looked on blankly, fully aware that the woman was filming him as he sat on the grass, the remains of the pie held in his right hand.

  'I'm having something to eat,' he replied in a small voice.

  'I can see that, but why did you sit down facing the kiddies play area?'

  Inside his quaking mind he could see his mother wagging a finger at him, her massive face set with a sad frown.

  'I told you this would happen, didn't I warn you, Benny Bear, didn't I say you should never go to ANY park alone?'

  'Come on, I want an answer?' the woman demanded as she took a step forward, her hard eyes narrowed in suspicion, the phone still trained on his sweating face.

  'But all I'm doing is eating my pie.'

  'I can see that, you bloody weirdo, but why eat it here? There are loads of places you could have eaten your pie and yet you chose to do it in front of the play area,' she all but snarled.

  Foster looked around the park, his hand starting to shake slightly as she came ever closer.

  'You like to watch little kids, don't you, you like to spy on them?' she asked, the harsh words firing from her spiteful lips.

  'I've be walking, and I was hungry, so I got something to eat from the shop down the road, and I just came here to sit on the grass and…'

  'Yeah, I just bet you did, you filthy bastard.'

  Foster felt the sudden flame of anger rise inside at the insult. 'The park doesn't belong to you, it's a public place and I'm well within my rights to sit where I choose, it has nothing to do with you.'

  'It has everything to do with me when you're perving my daughter,' she spat back angrily.

  Foster could feel the heat of disgust burning his cheeks at the accusation, though he was also aware that she was filming him, probably zooming in on his face, a face glowing with embarrassment and making him look guilty.

  'Just gather your shit and piss off, or I ring the police, I've got you here on my phone and you just look so bloody weird and…'

  'Who made you the arbiter of the state?' he suddenly demanded as he thrust the pie into the bag, his fingers brushing the glass bottle of pop he had bought from the shop.

  For a few seconds, the woman looked at him in confusion. 'What are you going on about, you scumbag?'

  When Benny's phone started to ring, he jerked slightly in sudden excitement as he scrabbled a hand into his pocket and pulled it out before slapping it to his ear.

  'Are you listening to me, you frigging paedo?' the woman snapped.

  'Who's that?' the voice in his ear demanded.

  'Some woman screaming at me,' Foster whispered in reply.

  'Why?'

  'Hey, I'm talking to you, I want you out of this park or I swear to God I will ring the police, and have you banged up.'

  Ignoring her completely, Foster lifted his hood over his head and slotted the phone in place before tightening the toggles.

  'Is she a common whore?'

  Foster looked up at the woman, she was now no more than six feet away, her face riven with anger, her makeup looked thick and gaudy, her purple-painted nails chipped as she continued to film him.

  'She's nothing but a dirty skank,' Foster replied derisively, still staring up at her.

  'What did you call me?' the woman demanded, her hand holding the phone started to drop, her mean eyes firing out pulses of hatred.

  'Is there anyone else around?' the man asked.

  'I'm in the park at Ince, and there's another whore in the play area with some brat kids but I can't see anyone else.'

  'Who the fuck are you talking to?' the woman demanded, her eyes widening in shocked anger.

  'Teach her a lesson but make it quick and then I want you over in Hindley.'

  'Yes, Master.'

  The woman watched astonished as the man on the grass suddenly snatched the glass bottle from the plastic bag and leapt to his feet.

  'That's it, I'm calling the coppers right now and…'

  Foster shot forward, his right arm lashed out, the bottle slammed into the side of the woman's head with a dull thud, sending her staggering to the right, the phone falling from her twitching hand, her eyes fluttering closed as she crashed to the ground, her sweatshirt riding up showing a tattooed butterfly on her pale white flesh.

  'Julie!'

  The voice rang out and Foster glanced towards the play area, he could see the other whore with her hands to her mouth, the children still playing on the swings and slide oblivious to what was happening.

  'MAKE HER PAY!'

  Foster nodded at the demand before raising the bottle and driving it down into the woman's face, glass shattered, her nose crumpled under the impact, the cherryade mingling with the blood.

  When the woman in the play area screamed, Foster gasped.

  'Time to leave, Benny,' the voice chuckled in his ear.

  Foster strode away across the grass, his body shaking with adrenalin, his mind singing in joy.

  The sound of screaming fading as he made it back to the road and set off walking, the traffic zipping by as he continued on his way, destination Hindley town centre.

  46

  'There's no sign of violence,' Doc Shannon said as he stood up and turned away from the body of Tricia Foster. 'I suspect she had heart problems, the tablets in her hand are specifically for high blood pressure.'

  Bannister had his arms folded, his eyes laced with sadness as he glanced at the woman on the floor, when he saw a fly appear out of her left nostril he grimaced.

  'Any idea how long she's been dead?'

  Shannon's beard twitched as he pondered the question. 'Well, rigor mortis has nearly gone, but coupled with the heat in this room and her obvious obesity it would make this just a wild guess. I can give you more a specific time when I've done the autopsy, though what I can say is lividity is fixed so she died in this position.'

  'What about the flies?' Bannister asked.

  'Believe it or not if a fly can gain access then they can land on the body and start to lay eggs within ten minutes.'

  'Ten bloody minutes?' the DCI barked in disbelief.

  'Often less, let's face it that's what they're designed to do.'

  'Well, we've checked with the neighbours and the one on the left said she saw Benny Foster leaving the house early this morning.'

  'Which means he knew she was dead and never raised the alarm,' Shannon suggested.

  Bannister grunted in agreement and then sighed. 'It can't have been easy for Foster trying to look after his mother, no real life of his own, probably no friends or family.'

  'Do you think he's the guy you're after?' Shannon asked just as Monty Marsh, the crime scene photographer, ambled into the room with a camera slung around his neck.

  'We'll get out of your way, Monty, but don't ask
her to say cheese,' Bannister said darkly as he moved out of the room and down the hallway, Shannon following closely behind.

  He was halfway down the path when Odette appeared at the gate. 'Sally Wright's just been on the phone, a woman was attacked in Ince Park about half an hour ago, the paramedics are on scene now,' she explained.

  Bannister glanced to his left to where Lasser was talking to Isabel Cander.

  'Attacked how?' the DCI asked.

  'The victim's name is Julie Chantry, she was in the park with her friend when they saw some guy sitting on the grass, according to the friend he was watching their kids in the play area, so Chantry went over to ask him what he was doing and he attacked her with a bottle.'

  Bannister shook his head in disgust. 'Right, you and Lasser head over there and get the full story and I want to be kept in the loop, is that clear?'

  Odette nodded as Lasser walked across the garden then they turned and headed towards the Audi.

  Ten seconds later the siren was wailing as Odette pulled away and vanished down the road.

  Doc Shannon lifted a pack of extra strong mints from his pocket and popped one into his mouth before offering the tube to Bannister who shook his head.

  'I'd sooner have a smoke.'

  Shannon sighed as he clapped a hand on Bannister's shoulder. 'Sorry, but I gave up the demon weed ages ago.'

  'Some bloody use you are.'

  'Though I do have a cigar in the car, you can have that if you want?'

  Bannister flicked him a glance. 'And how would that look, me puffing away on a King Edward with Benny Foster's mother dead in there?' he asked, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.

  Shannon shrugged his huge shoulders. 'Suit yourself,' he said as he walked over to Isabel leaving Bannister at the front of the house, his face set in a sour frown as the craving for nicotine steadily grew.

  47

  The man drove past the park, over to his right he could see an ambulance on the sun-dried grass, a small crowd of people had gathered to see what was going on. The smile flickered on his angular face as he turned his eyes back to the road, concentrating on the constant stream of traffic heading out of Wigan as workers finished for the day and made their way home.