Dead to Me: A serial killer thriller (Detective Kate Matthews Crime Thriller Series Book 1) Read online

  Dead To Me

  A serial killer thriller

  Stephen Edger

  For my wife and children.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  A Letter from Stephen

  Acknowledgements

  1

  TUESDAY

  DI Kate Matthews slammed her hand down on the rim of the steering wheel as the minutes on the dashboard clock ticked past. ‘No, no, no, no!’ An accident on the A33 had caused delays across Southampton, and the slow crawl to the station was now being impeded further by a set of temporary traffic lights at the top of Shirley High Street. She could see the police headquarters building from where she was sitting and was tempted to abandon her car, hightailing it on foot. The supe would be pacing in his office by now. She should have phoned in sick or embellished on her ailing mother’s condition, but then she’d have felt guilty all day. She couldn’t understand why her alarm hadn’t gone off at six, as usual. She’d definitely set it when she’d gone to bed. Could she really have switched it off during the night?

  The lights turned green and, rather than waiting for the old woman two cars in front to finally figure out where first gear was, Kate pulled out and shot past, narrowly missing the offside wing of a stationary car at the opposite set of lights. At the bottom of the road she swung across the roundabout into her parking space, then hurried into the station.

  Racing up the stairs, she arrived, panting, at the third floor, and caught her reflection in the glass panel of the office door. She’d never been one for worrying about her appearance, but she stopped to quickly smooth her top, straighten her jacket, and fish in her handbag for a hair tie to pull her chocolate-brown hair back from her face. Brushing a few toast crumbs from the edge of her lips she forced a smile, revealing two slight dimples in each cheek. It would do.

  Kate stepped into the open-plan office, nodding to DS Samir Patel, who didn’t hide his irritation as he checked his watch and shook his head. She could have pulled him up for that, but there wasn’t the time. She was sure he was still frustrated that her arrival in the department had robbed him of his shot of a promotion.

  She threw her bag onto the desk and unlocked her workstation. She didn’t envy the supe having a tiny office shut away from the world: she liked being around the team; she enjoyed the banter. Not that many of them had attempted to engage with her recently. It was almost as if they saw her losing streak as a form of leprosy; they’d do anything to avoid becoming infected.

  ‘Morning, ma’am,’ DC Trotter offered cheerily, placing a mug of coffee on the desk in front of Kate, her blonde hair bobbing as she skipped back to her own desk.

  ‘Morning, Laura. Give me five minutes to get myself straight and then we can have a look at—’

  ‘The supe wants to see you first,’ Patel interrupted without looking up. He was cleaning out the coffee machine again; his daily ritual.

  Locking her computer, Kate smiled at Laura across the room, as if it was nothing. ‘You’d better give me ten minutes instead. I’ll grab you when I’m ready.’

  She tried to act casual as she strolled back along the corridor to the supe’s office, a cold dread swirling inside her. Taking a deep breath, she knocked twice and entered.

  Detective Superintendent Williams began speaking before she’d even shut the door behind her. ‘What the hell went wrong yesterday? You assured me he would go down. You said there was no way a jury wouldn’t convict.’

  Kate had asked herself the same question more than a dozen times, but still didn’t have a definitive answer. ‘I don’t know what to say, sir. The CPS said we would—’

  ‘I don’t give a shit what the CPS said! You managed the enquiry. You gathered the evidence. You oversaw the interviews. I just don’t understand, Matthews. Do you not like it here? Is that the problem? You don’t think we’re as good as the Met, so you don’t want to try as hard. Is that it?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  The vein in the centre of his forehead was throbbing. ‘You’ve been with us for four months, four months, and you’re yet to successfully secure a conviction. It’s not like you haven’t had plenty of opportunities.’ He began pacing in front of the large window behind his desk. ‘I was warned that I was taking a chance by bringing you in to the team, but I followed my gut and now you’re making me look like an old fool.’

  ‘Please, sir, what happened yesterday was unfortunate—’

  ‘Really? That’s how you’d describe that bloody shambles? Symptomatic: that’s the word I’d use. Am I wrong?’

  She sighed; there was no point in arguing with him. ‘No, sir.’

  ‘DCI Vaughn would be turning in his grave if he could see what a bloody pig’s ear you were making of his unit. He was meticulous in his case preparation.’

  Kate kept her head bowed as the supe once again waxed lyrical about the man she’d been brought in to replace. How could she ever compete with a living legend, struck down in his prime?

  ‘Yes?’

  Patel’s head had popped around the door as the supe answered his knock. ‘Apologies for the interruption, sir. We’ve just taken a call about a fire at a dockside warehouse. Uniform are on scene with paramedics and the fire brigade.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And, they’ve just found a body inside; sir, it’s missing its head and feet. Inspector Bentley wants us down there straight away.’

  ‘Okay. Send DI Underhill in as
SIO.’

  ‘He’s still tied up with that body they found on Saturday night, sir.’

  DSI Williams glanced down at Kate, who looked pleadingly in his direction. He narrowed his eyes, and sighed.

  ‘Very well, Matthews, get yourself down there and secure the scene. Make sure everyone knows what they are doing and report back to me at the first possible opportunity. That’ll be all, DS Patel.’

  He waited until Patel had closed the door and then leaned in towards Kate. ‘I want regular updates on your progress, you hear me? Do not drop the ball on this one.’

  2

  Kate parked the Audi next to one of the patrol cars and rested her spare ID card on the dashboard so nobody would have reason to question its presence at the scene. Patel and Laura pulled up in a squad car.

  A rush of adrenaline swept over her. Nothing ever quite compared to the buzz of a new crime scene, an untouched puzzle fresh out of the box. She locked her car, and walked over to join them.

  ‘Patel, tell me everything you were told over the phone.’

  He opened his notebook. ‘An anonymous 999 call was placed just after four this morning reporting flames at the dockside. A police community support officer was first on scene, swiftly followed by the fire brigade, but by this point the warehouse was inaccessible. Due to the size and contents of the warehouse, it has taken until now to extinguish the blaze. On entering the structure, fire crews located a scorched body, hanging from a hook and chain in the ceiling. On closer inspection they discovered the victim’s head and feet had been severed; they have not been located yet.

  ‘Inspector Bentley set up the perimeter, but you might want to move it depending what the Fire Service Incident Commander says.’

  Kate looked around; it was just possible to imagine what the warehouse had originally been: the stanchions that had survived the blaze were black with soot, with great steel struts bent and twisted from severe heat exposure. It was like a giant gothic sculpture. A cocktail of steam and smoke billowed into the sky where the corrugated plastic roof had once rested. The air was thick with ash. Beneath her feet, water pooled in small waves as the swarm of firefighters, their beige uniforms damp and creaking, battled to put out the last of the flames. She had a deep respect for those men and women who risked their lives with every fire they tackled. Her great-grandfather had served during the Blitz, and she could remember him telling her stories as a child. He was her first hero; she’d even considered following in his footsteps.

  Kate identified the three of them to the uniformed officer guarding the perimeter. He showed them where they should sign in and change into protective polythene suits. Ducking beneath the cordon tape, she then located the FSIC and walked over to introduce herself. He was talking on the phone and looked up as she presented her badge.

  ‘What can you tell me about the fire? Was it deliberate?’

  ‘It’s too early to say,’ he half-whispered, covering the mouthpiece.

  ‘Can you offer an informed guess?’

  He waved Kate away and, tempting as it was to yank the phone from his ear and hurl it into the nearby waves, she bit her lip and looked around, to find Inspector Bentley beckoning them over.

  He looked sharp, as always, his dark uniform freshly pressed and his pointy chin showing the sting of a razor. ‘Morning, Matthews. I take it you’re SIO?’

  She nodded, the supe’s warning still ringing in her ears.

  Bentley walked them closer to the smouldering pillars. ‘We believe the fire started just in there.’ He pointed an outstretched finger towards the gap where the aluminium walls had once stood. ‘The warehouse was being used to store a number of accelerants. It looks like bottles of whisky or similar, but there were also pressurised gas canisters. The first responders said the rear of the building was ablaze when they arrived, but it quickly spread.’

  ‘Where was the body found?’

  He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Follow me,’ he said, leading them around the outside of what used to be the main building but was now a mess of twisted metal, melted plastic, and ash. He pointed at a chain hanging down in the middle of the shell. ‘There. That’s where the body was hanging. The spike was buried deep in his back, like some kind of sick piñata.’

  Kate’s eyes stung from the smoke in the air, but she could still make out the steel chain, blackened and dripping. Even from a distance the sharp hook that hung from the chain looked menacing. ‘Christ,’ was all she could muster, winning her a disapproving look from Patel that she chose to ignore. ‘And where’s the body now?’

  ‘We had to move it. The FSIC had concerns over the stability of the frame.’

  ‘What can you tell me about the victim? Male? Female?’

  Bentley shrugged. ‘Toss a coin and take your pick. It looked like a lump of well-done barbecued meat to me. The pathologist will know.’

  ‘Is it safe now? I want to get the Scene of Crime Officers in as quickly as possible.’

  ‘I’ll have to check with the FSIC. They’ve been testing the frames for rigidity.’

  ‘We need to treat this area as the primary crime scene. What evidence there is – if it hasn’t all been burnt or washed away – needs to be collected and processed.’ She turned to Patel. ‘See if you can get a floorplan or blueprints for this place. It would be good to know how it looked before the blaze.’

  Patel nodded and moved away, pulling out his phone.

  She turned back to Bentley. ‘Can you tell me anything at all about the victim? Was any identification found?’

  ‘We couldn’t even tell clothes from flesh, I’m afraid.’

  Her skin prickled. ‘So, we’re thinking the victim was lured here, decapitated and feet amputated, then strung up like a piece of meat?’

  ‘You’re the detective…’

  They both gazed up at the hook. ‘Find out when we can get Scientific Services in there, will you? We need to act quickly, before there’s no crime scene left to explore.’

  Bentley nodded, and Kate signalled for Laura to follow her, stopping when they reached two uniformed officers standing with their backs to a white sheet over a large mound. The women covered their mouths as the stench of burned flesh overpowered the thick smoke in the air. Kate showed the uniforms her identification and they were allowed through.

  She gently peeled a corner of the sheet away.

  Laura gagged.

  Taking a breath, Kate lowered the sheet and stepped back, allowing her eyes to wander across the scene, blurring out the individuals in protective clothing and headgear going about their duties.

  ‘Remember to always apply the “ABC” principle, Laura: assume nothing; believe nothing; check everything. Until we know more, we are going to treat this as a Category-A murder enquiry. I want you to find out who owns this warehouse, whether that person is our victim, and if not, whether they might have an idea who our victim is—’

  ‘Ma’am,’ Patel interrupted, rushing over. ‘The warehouse belongs to Danny Fenton.’

  Kate’s head snapped round to where Patel stood panting. ‘The Danny Fenton?’

  He nodded, a grin starting to spread. ‘The very same.’

  She stared at the covered mass before her. Could it be?

  She turned back to Laura. ‘Confirm that for me, will you? I need to get back to the station and set up the Incident Room. Get yourselves back there as soon as you’re done. I want to brief the team within the hour. The supe will want to know if Southampton’s most wanted has just been killed.’

  3

  DSI Williams removed his reading glasses and nibbled one of the legs. ‘And you’re sure the warehouse belongs to Fenton?’

  Kate nodded. ‘DC Trotter just confirmed it on the phone.’

  ‘And you think the victim could be Fenton himself? Retaliation for what happened with the smuggling operation earlier this year?’

  The two orange fish on the filing cabinet fought over a coloured stone at the base of their bowl. Kate’s eyes wandered to them, and then back to th
e supe.

  ‘Your guess is as good as mine, sir. There’s nothing to suggest it was Fenton, other than the body being found on his property.’

  ‘Have you briefed your team yet?’

  ‘Not yet. I’ve got them gathered in the office, and we’ll set up a Major Incident Room as soon as you give the green light.’

  DSI Williams sighed. ‘Two murders in a week is not what we need with our overtime budget under scrutiny.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure the victim didn’t remove his own head and feet, sir.’

  He didn’t pick up on the sarcasm. ‘Very well. I want you to speak with DI Hendrix from the Organised Crime team. Her lot have been investigating Fenton and his syndicate for years. I don’t want you treading on anyone’s toes, and she could provide valuable insight into his recent movements.’

  Kate had only met Hendrix once before, on one of those ‘Stress in the Workplace’ courses. It had been a waste of time, of course, but the two of them had shared a bottle of rosé on the first night, discussing their roots. Hendrix’s parents had escaped apartheid and moved to the UK when she was only four, so although she didn’t have a South African accent, her pronunciation of certain words was heavily influenced by her birthplace. Her stunning looks and short cropped hair endorsed her formidable attitude. Kate had heard the stories about her tearing strips off her team in public, but knew her to be someone who got the job done.