TORN TO SHREDS

DI OLIVIA AUSTIN - BOOK THIRTY-EIGHT

NIC ROBERTS

Copyright © 2024 by Nic Roberts

‘Torn To Shreds’

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Some may be used for parody purposes.

Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

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PROLOGUE

She always enjoyed exploring the Newquay clifftops, feeling as though she was standing on the edge of the world.

She’d visited Newquay several times in her career, and no matter how many slices of paradise she’d come across, she was never able to recapture the peace and tranquillity that she found in Newquay.

She shifted her camera to capture the front of the clifftop and some of the crushing rocks down below. She’d truly made photography an art form and was sure that this latest batch of photos would be no exception.

She inhaled deeply, taking in the sea salt scent and letting it energise her. What was most enjoyable was the feeling that she was completely isolated and could leave everything behind.

She looked behind her at the lodge where she’d rented a room. With the majestic building situated next to a cliff’s edge, it was a picturesque view.

She took a few steps towards the edge of the cliff, her camera at the ready, trying to see what else she could capture.

She was glad to be away from it all. Her partner had been a suffocating pain in the arse over the few days, and she was glad to have the distance.

She hadn’t told him where she was going, only that she needed some space for a while. She might have left the county for all he knew.

She was breathing in the air when she heard the sound of someone approaching.

At first, she thought it was just another tourist coming to get a good look at the view.

“You know you shouldn’t be out here all by yourself.”

She whipped around at the sound of the voice.

“Just wanted some alone time.”

“Well, you’ll get plenty of that around here.” The stranger looked her over, eyes burning with intent.

There was something about the person’s body language, a tension that was putting her seriously on edge.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked, turning around to face the them fully.

“No, but I know somebody who has a few bones to pick with you.” Their voice was casual, as though they were commenting on the weather. But it was full of malice.

“Okay… I need to be getting back now,” she began, heading back towards the lodge.

But the intruder quickly stepped in front of her and blocked her path.

“You don’t need to be going just yet,” they declared, placing their hands on her shoulders in a vice-like grip.

“Get off me!” she exclaimed, struggling, and just as she was about to scream, they clamped a gloved hand over her mouth.

They moved forward two steps, and she was increasingly conscious of the wind blowing behind her.

Descending into panic mode, she tried to fight off her attacker, but she couldn’t break free as she was backed closer and closer towards the edge. She scrambled to catch some part of her attacker with her fingernails. She must have made her mark because she heard the assailant scream in pain.

But this small sense of victory was met with a rough shove, and as her arms flailed, grasping at nothing but air, she began to fall.

She screamed loudly as the clifftop grew smaller and smaller.

Her life flashed before her eyes, and in that fleeting moment of terror, she was grateful to be facing upwards so that she wouldn’t have to look at the rocks rushing to greet her.

1

Olivia Austin looked out from Lewinnick Lodge, feeling completely relaxed and at ease. I’ve got access to all this beautiful scenery around me, and yet I can’t remember the last time I actually stopped to enjoy any of it.

It’d been a late start to the day, Liv having spent most of the morning in bed with Dean. Though she was fully settled in the house they shared together, there was a part of her that wouldn’t mind waking up in a different slice of paradise.

They’d finally managed to get away from Newquay for a while and took their TLC routine to the Lewinnick Lodge, with special emphasis on the L part.

The trysts they’d enjoyed together were some of the most fulfilling in a long while. Granted, she’d always enjoyed the feeling of Dean’s body against her own.

And then there were those beautiful eyes. Every time she looked into them, she could see nothing but love and adoration staring back at her.

Before she’d arrived in Newquay, she’d spent so long wondering how long it would take for her to get over her trauma and start living an idealised version of her life.

Now, she felt like she already was.

They were sat at a table together having a very late breakfast.

“So, what do you fancy doing today?” Dean asked, helping himself to a black coffee. Most of his energy had been spent in the morning.

“Well, ideally, not running on fumes,” Liv replied, helping herself to a croissant. “I was thinking of a nice gentle stroll around the cliff’s edge.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing a bit of hiking,” he suggested, flexing his body, his impressive muscles prominent beneath the sleeveless shirt he was wearing. A few of the women sitting in the dining area were looking over at the pair, mouths practically watering, prompting Olivia to return a glance that screamed, ‘Back off, he’s mine.’

“What’s brought on this adventurous streak?” she asked, knowing that Dean was always too swamped with work to focus on any other extracurricular activities.

“You and me, we’ve been doing this job for a while now. We’ve both had our fair share of wear and tear,” Dean acknowledged, and Liv couldn’t help but concede the point. Over the last few years, they’d been shot at, stabbed, and beaten. Liv always told herself they would bounce back, but deep down, she knew that one day, all those injuries would catch up with her.

“I don’t want to feel like I’m not at my peak,” he continued, gulping down the coffee.

“I won’t stop loving you over a few cuts and bruises,” she assured him, using a playful tone to try to bat away the traumas they’d endured.

He smiled at this, but his face was distant.

“Something’s clearly on your mind, so do you fancy sharing?” she asked, not wanting to leap into interrogation mode but knowing that things had been rocky for them both over the past few months. Between Dean getting abducted by the kill spree sponsor, and Dean proposing marriage with Liv being reluctant to accept, the year had been nothing short of a rollercoaster. But Liv had been determined to enjoy the summer.

The scenery around Lewinnick Lodge was absolutely blissful, and just moving around it, Liv felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest.

She was determined to enjoy the time she had with Dean.

“Got to say, I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” she noted morosely, imagining how the next few days were going to pan out. “You’ll be leaving me all alone in that house.”

“Well, you’re not really going to be alone, are you?” he offered with a shrug.

“Yeah, because Briggs is great to unload to,” she retorted. It was a little unfair. She loved the dog so much, but what made each case and each pushback bearable was being able to sink into Dean’s arms at the end of the day.

“It’s only going to be for a week,” he replied, feeling like he had to justify his decision again.

“It feels longer, believe me,” she muttered, looking down at the table.

“It’s something I’ve got to do,” he insisted, his voice taking on a serious tone. “I haven’t seen my mum for a while, and I need to see how she’s doing. For years, I made a point of staying out of Italy… and that meant distancing myself from my mum.”

“You ever considered bringing her down to Newquay?” she suggested, draining the last of her drink.

“My mum’s immensely proud of her Italian heritage. I would struggle to get her out of there, even temporarily,” he began, before meeting his partner’s eyes. “But I’m going to see if I can sweettalk her into a visit. I know she will want to meet you.”

Liv felt her stomach plummet. I’ve taken on the worst the world has to offer and felt no fear, but the thought of meeting my boyfriend’s mum scares the shit out of me.

“Don’t look so worried,” he assured her, as though reading her mind.

“How do I know she’s not going to look at me as the woman who nearly got her son killed?” Liv asked, knowing the number of times Dean been targeted simply because of her.

“I’d like to think she’ll see you as the woman who’s kept me alive,” he corrected, his silver tongue once again doing wonders. He always knows exactly what to say. “It would be great if you could come with me.”

“I’d love to, Dean, but to be honest, I’ve got too many things I’ve got to sort out here,” she admitted, trying not to feel too ashamed. “I’ve got my sister’s baby shower that’s being sorted out—”

“That’s nice,” he replied with a gentle nod. “How’s she feeling about having another baby?”

“She’s very excited.” Liv beamed, knowing that her sister Mills had been a wonderful mother to little Ru. And she was showing a lot now. It wouldn’t be long before she was taking maternity leave.

“Do you think you might ever want…” Dean paused before gesturing to a mum who was rocking a pushchair. From across the room, Liv could hear the sound of gurgling coming from the pram. She smiled at the image of having a small child.

“Big question there, Dean,” she muttered, thinking back to the false pregnancy alarm she’d endured late last year. Their lives would have been changed forever as a result. And she knew that whenever she went out on a case, she always felt like she could push herself further than anyone else, physically and mentally, always taking pride in that endurance.

Could I really be able to push myself as far, knowing I’ve got a small child at home waiting for me?

But there were moments when she visited her little nephew that she could certainly see the joys of nurturing a small life. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a child—she just wasn’t sure how to fit one into her life. Especially considering that her child would be her everything.

Dean reached over the table and held her hand. “Just so you know, there’s no real rush on this one. We’ve got all the time in the world to think about it. Besides, we’re getting plenty of experience with Briggs.”

Liv scoffed at that, the lightness back in the conversation. “I don’t think you can really compare the two.”

She felt a tingling sensation as his fingers ran over the surface of her skin, his touch full of intimacy and a promise of what was to come later.

She began reaching across the table, pursing her lips, impatience overriding everything else…

…when suddenly, she heard a scream.

“What was that?” she asked, the moment instantly forgotten.

She pulled away and looked around, trying to identify the source. After a few seconds, she saw many of the guests getting up from their seats and walking up the pathway… towards the cliff’s edge.

“Oh, fuck,” she muttered, getting up from her seat.

“Do you think someone went over the cliff?” Dean asked, getting from his seat, instantly in detective mode.

But Olivia could already guess the answer. So much for a moment’s peace.

2

Liv and Dean followed the group of people up the path, conscious of the unsteady wind. There was a part of her that was frustrated that even on holiday, she couldn’t enjoy a moment with the love of her life. But those thoughts were quickly pushed aside as she moved closer to the edge, dreading the moment when she would have to look over.

“What happened?” she asked as she tried to push her way through the crowd of people, conscious of somebody else falling over.

“Somebody fell,” someone called out as everyone immediately started chiming in with their own versions.

“Okay everyone, get back!” Liv commanded, her hand instinctively reaching down to her pocket… only to realise she’d left her ID card behind in the room she was sharing with Dean. “Police, get back!”

The crowd started to disperse, Dean doing his part to keep everyone back.

Once the people had been moved away and Liv was satisfied that nobody else was going to fall, she peered over the edge and only allowed the quickest of looks to see something splattered over the rocks before she backed away.

She turned around to face the guests, all of them looking at her expectantly.

“Did anyone see what happened?” she called out to no one in particular, waiting for someone to offer up a response.

“We heard a scream, and she must have gone over,” someone in the crowd muttered. It was a middle-aged woman who was clearly bristling at the inconvenience of having her holiday interrupted.

Dean made his way through to the front, inspecting the ground around them. “I can’t see any luggage or equipment, so she mustn’t have taken anything with her.”

Liv felt a slight unsteadiness that made her recoil further and further from the edge. This is probably another case of getting too close to the edge with no caution.

She looked to Dean, sensing his disappointment that even on holiday, there was no peace for them. But she could see him grind his jaw as he focused on the victim.

“We’re going to need to speak to all of the guests staying here and determine who the victim was,” he declared, looking to the crowd once again. “I don’t suppose any of you can tell us who she was? Maybe if anyone was staying with her?”

God, I seriously hope she was staying here by herself. I pity whoever’s got to ID the body.

She knew they’d probably have to get a team down there to recover it. Despite the fleeting glance, she knew that the body would have been torn to shreds by the impact.

She put in a call to report the death while Dean went about speaking to the witnesses.

An hour later, they’d found that nobody could identify the woman, and Liv was left wondering if she’d even been a guest at the lodge. Apparently, no one had arrived with her, and all the other visitors were present and accounted for. Dean had already gone to the trouble of herding them back to the lodge to avoid anyone further interrupting the scene.

She saw a team of forensic coordinators led by Sam approaching the scene, kit in hand.

“I’m beginning to wonder if you’re jinxed, DI Austin,” Sam noted dryly as she began setting up.

“Believe me, Sam, I’ve been asking myself that same question,” she exclaimed before focusing on the task at hand. “We need to set up a cordon. We can’t have anyone else trying to get a sneak peek over there and joining the victim.”

“Agreed,” Sam replied, her tools at the ready. “So, what are we thinking? Suicide? Or maybe she took and tumble and lost her balance? She probably wouldn’t be the first person.”

“Do you think she might have been pushed?” Liv suggested darkly, imagining Dean rolling his eyes behind her at jumping to such a drastic conspiracy.

“I see your brain’s already going into overdrive,” the lead coordinator acknowledged. “I don’t think we’ll be able to determine anything until we can get to the body.”

Liv nodded, knowing that someone would probably be taking a boat down there.

“She was all the way out here,” Liv noted, looking back to the lodge. “So my guess is she was either sightseeing—which is probably the more obvious suggestion—or she wanted to be alone.”

Liv was latching onto all of these feelings, but they weren’t getting her anywhere. We need something more concrete.

“I want her checked over for defensive wounds,” she instructed, shifting into inspector mode. “Anything that might suggest she was in a struggle.”

Liv dared herself to look over the edge, trying to get a look at the victim while at the same time grateful that the worst of the damage was mostly obscured from her view.

She sighed heavily, frustration building again. Doesn’t the world owe me at least one peaceful day with Dean?

He walked over to her tentatively, and he was clearly feeling the pull of duty.

“You know, if it helps, and this does end up being more than an accidental death…” he began tentatively, choosing every word carefully. “...I can always look at rearranging my visit to my mum—”

“No,” she fired back instantly, as much to herself as to Dean. There was a selfish part of her that wanted to take Dean up on his offer, to have him stick around so that she could enjoy more time with him. “You haven’t seen your mum in a long while. You’re only going to regret it later on, especially if it turns out that this woman simply tripped. You go and have a good time with her. I promise you that whatever this turns out to be, I’ll be able to handle it myself.”

Dean smiled widely. “God, I love you, Olivia Austin,” he exclaimed, pulling her into an embrace. “I really don’t deserve you.”

“I think that’s the other way around,” she commented from beneath his grasp. “But I’ll gladly take it.”

They quickly broke apart and looked at focusing on the task at hand.

Liv knew there was no way she was getting down to the bottom of the cliff, not unless she was going to take the same route as the victim.

She did a double-check with the receptionist to find out if they’d ever seen anybody approach the woman.

She and Dean still had an extra night left on the Lewinnick Lodge, but they didn’t feel that they could slip back into an idyllic romance, not when a woman had died a short distance away from where they’d slept. It made more sense to just check out early. Dean had tried to justify it as the chance to see Briggs again a bit more before he left.

They arrived back at the house, having left the dog with a neighbour. As soon as he laid eyes on Dean, he bounded forward into his arms, almost knocking the man to the ground.

Once they were sat back in their home, Liv put aside some more time to think about all the points Dean had raised with her—marriage, children. It wasn’t that she didn’t want any of those things. She just didn’t know how to factor that into her current life, not without making big changes.

The next morning, Liv got up early, letting Dean sleep in but leaving him with a kiss on the cheek as he slept before she headed out to the station.

She knew that the case would have made its way to Newquay CID, and it was just a question of working out who the victim was and how she might have died.

Luckily, the forensics team had been able to find some personal effects on the victim that gave them an ID: Carol Newman.

The name rung a bell for Liv, and she wondered where she’d heard it before.

But once the fog in her mind lifted, she felt a chill run down her body, and all of a sudden, it was hard to imagine that her death was any kind of accident. This woman would have made a lot of enemies in her lifetime. It could be a question of who got to her first.

3

Liv walked past the row of desks and to the front of the office. Everyone was present and waiting for the next case to land in their lap.

“Right, everyone,” she declared, grabbing a marker pen and writing Carol Newman’s name on the board, waiting for the collective gasps to follow.

“You’re kidding me,” DS Nikki Harding declared, blinking rapidly as though the name were an apparition. “This is a piss-take, surely.”

“I’m afraid not, Nikki,” she replied, writing the location of the murder. “The woman was thirty-eight years old, went over a cliff near Lewinnick Lodge…”

“Isn’t that where you went on holiday?” Archie asked with his hand up, momentarily forgetting that this wasn’t school.

“Sadly so, which is why we’ve had to cut it short, and why you’ve all been graced with my presence a day early,” she noted thinly, a little shorter than she’d intended. “Now, just a little update for the uninitiated; Carol Newman has worked in a number of roles, but the one that she’s probably always going to be known for—both professionally and publicly—is whistleblower.”

“I read about that,” Nikki acknowledged, nodding her head slowly. “She was working as a PA for some up-and-coming law firm, and she grassed them up?”

“That’s the abbreviated version of it, but yes. Her report found the firm to be guilty of witness intimidation, evidence tampering, and a number of practices that skirted around the edges of legal but definitely weren’t the kind of things to enhance their reputation.”

“So, you think this could be a revenge killing?” Nikki asked, having enough pieces of the puzzle to start thinking about a full-blown conspiracy.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” the inspector replied, remembering how a lot of people had lost their jobs and their pensions on account of Ms Newman’s actions. “But that was seventeen years ago. Everyone involved in that scandal has moved on. There’s nothing to gain from going after her now.”

“Well, what has she been doing in the years since?” Tim asked, his notebook open. “I imagine it must have been difficult for her to get another job.”

“Well, I’m going to have Clara take a look at her online presence and see if that turns up anything,” she confirmed, knowing that the technician would be more than capable of getting to the bottom of any database. “Now, the post-mortem will be taking place later in the day. That will be the biggest indicator of foul play.

“Dean and…” She paused, taking care not to mention Dean’s first name too frequently lest she come across as a loved-up teenager. “DI Lawrence and I have already spoken to the staff at Lewinnick Lodge and there’s no indication that anybody knew she was staying there. She wasn’t even an official guest. That would probably explain why her name wasn’t found on the register.”

“But she wouldn’t go all the way out there just for the fresh air,” Archie suggested, sounding fairly certain of himself. “She could have been meeting someone there.”

“Well, we won’t know for sure until we’ve checked all of the personal effects,” she acknowledged, hoping that a woman who’d spent so long covertly finding evidence to use against her employers would have made some last-minute attempt to give them something that would lead to her killer… assuming she had one.

“So, if she wasn’t staying at the lodge, we need to find out what she was doing. We’ll be going through the personal effects to see if there’s anywhere she might have been staying,” Liv declared, feeling like they were trying to chase down a ghost.

“To the best of my knowledge, she was last living in the Lake District,” Tim offered, clearly having followed the case with some interest. “Whether she has any next of kin out there, I don’t know. The only people we have on file are her ex-husband—who, as far as we know, divorced her shortly after the first case shut down.”

“Do you think he would have had any part in it?” Nikki chimed in, sounding a little catty. “I mean, you can imagine the kind of scrutiny he would have endured just from being married to his wife. She would have been radioactive to him. And I wouldn’t be surprised if a dozen people gave him the stink eye in the street.”

“Let’s save the spousal accusations until we know whether he was anywhere near Newquay at the time of the death,” Liv insisted, knowing deep down that Nikki was going through some marital difficulties, and she was feeling a little vindictive on the subject of spouses.

Suddenly, the doors burst open, and PC Andrew Shaw and PC Diana Hershel burst into the office. “Boss,” Andrew panted, sounding like he’d been running. “You’re working the Carol Newman case, right?”

“Yeah, for my sins,” she replied, excited for the PC to continue.

“There’s a woman downstairs who claims to be a friend of Ms Newman. She said that she was staying with her while she was in Newquay,” he explained, speaking so quickly that it almost sounded like one word.

“Andrew, I could kiss you,” Liv blurted out before she had time to consider her words. “Tell her I’ll be down in a minute.” She looked to Tim and Nikki. “Okay, the personal effects are coming in, and I want DS Harding and DS Harris to go through them and see if there’s anything we can use. Consult with Clara if you have to. I want to know everything that she’s been up to over the past seventeen years—places she would have worked, people she would have bumped shoulders with.” She knew she was sticking them with an extensive task, but Carol Newman would have made a lot of enemies, even amongst her friends.

“DS Elmhurst, you’re with me. We’re going to speak to this woman and see if she can shed some light on why Ms Newman was in Newquay in the first place,” she told him, clapping her hands together. “Right then, people, chop-chop. You all have your roles, so let’s make the magic happen.”

The room dispersed, and Nikki and Tim were left sticking around the computer, starting to pore over all of the information.

“So, how do you know so much about this woman?” Nikki asked, turning to her friend. He’d always been a treasure trove of trivia.

“I heard about the case back when I was a teenager,” Tim explained, his voice full of admiration. “When you think about what that woman did and what she was up against, it would have been smarter for her to keep quiet. It certainly would have been easier. But for better or worse, she took a huge gamble to make sure that those people didn’t continue getting away with unethical practices. It was one of the cases that inspired me to go into the police service in the first place.”

“She sounds like a real hero,” Nikki noted morosely, knowing that the woman probably wouldn’t have had the celebration she deserved in life.

“She had received death threats from the firm,” he noted as he busied himself with research. “Big lesson I took from that was never underestimate what the people in power will do to stay there.”

Nikki looked at the computer, seeing what the search engine spat out regarding all things Carol Newman. “According to this, ever since that incident, she spent a lot of time under the radar.”

“First rule for Public Enemy Number One is to never make yourself too visible.” Tim noted, looking through some of the reports.

“Apparently, she’s been referenced in a few other cases where companies have gone bust,” he acknowledged, looking at results for three different companies, all of whom had committed some kind of malpractice.

“So it wasn’t enough for her to bring down one company, she had to bring down a few more?” Nikki exclaimed as she looked at the reports. “Well, she certainly kept herself busy. It’s like her job description was officially ‘martyr’.”

“These are only the known cases,” he noted, making notes on every company that had been torched by Ms Newman’s whistleblowing antics. “This does present a bit of a problem for us. Because if she brought down all of these companies, the managers and the employees are going to have motive for wanting her dead. And some of these are fairly recent, too.”

4

Olivia and Archie took their seats in an interview room opposite Linell Cobble, a dowdy woman in her early forties who reminded Liv of a Stepford wife. She was clutching a cup of tea and looking down at it, still seemingly trying to make sense of what was happening.

“I still can’t believe she’s dead,” Linell muttered, taking a sip of tea. “It was only yesterday that she was in my home, and we were talking.”

“Ms Cobble, I understand this must be a troubling experience for you,” Archie offered, his charm working wonders in easing the woman. “But I was wondering if you can tell us how you came to be acquainted with Ms Newman?”

“We’ve been pen pals for a while,” Mrs Cobble explained distantly. “I really looked up to the woman and everything she was doing. I know a lot of people looked down on her for her actions, but I genuinely think she should have been celebrated as a hero.”

This woman is taking worship to a whole new level.

From what little evidence she’d found so far on Carol Newman, Liv believed there was nothing to suggest any kind of history with Linelle Cobble.

“So, how did she come to be in Newquay?” the inspector queried, feeling like the victim had just sprung out of nowhere.

The woman shuffled in her seat, trying to get comfortable on the plastic chair. “When we chatted online, we were talking about the cases she’d been taking on.”

“‘Cases?’” Liv repeated the word, trying not to sound incredulous. “I didn’t think she was an official investigator.”

“She wasn’t,” the dowdy woman assured them. “For her, it was more of a calling than anything. She said that if she didn’t make any noise, then a load of people would suffer in silence.”

Liv couldn’t help but admire the victim for her strong sense of altruism. It’d already cost her a great deal and it didn’t look like she was benefiting in any way. I wonder how committed I’d be to my job if it didn’t have a paycheque attached.

“I told her that if she ever found her way towards Newquay, I’d gladly offer her a room,” Ms Cobble explained, sounding prideful at her own gesture.

“Well, that’s very considerate of you,” Liv muttered, though somehow, she didn’t think that Carol would have made her way down to a seaside town just to take in the sights. “How long had she been staying with you?”

“Ten days, give or take,” Ms Cobble offered with a shrug.

“And how long was she going to stay with you?” Archie asked, tapping his pen against the notebook.

“We hadn’t really set an end date. Maybe a month or two, give or take,” the woman replied uncertainly.

Two months staying in Newquay? She probably could have covered the whole area in a fortnight. Unless…

“Ms Cobble, did Carol say why she was staying in Newquay?” Liv asked, and to her lack of surprise, the woman suddenly fell silent.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she muttered, pushing the half-drunk tea away. “I… I don’t want to get into any trouble.”

“Mrs Cobble,” Liv began evenly, trying to sum the woman up, “Just to remind you, you are not in any trouble, and you’re certainly not under any caution. We’re trying to find out why Carol died, and any information you can give us that would help us track down a possible killer would be greatly appreciated.”

“You don’t honestly think that Carol was murdered, do you?” the woman asked, looking increasingly troubled.

“Well, you tell us,” Archie suggested, turning the question back on her. “The woman was staying in your house for a few weeks. You’ve known her for a long time. Did she honestly strike you as the suicidal type?”

The woman glanced at the ceiling, seemingly looked back on all her memories of her friend. “Not really, no.”

Liv was sure there was more to the story than what she was being told. “Mrs Cobble, Carol didn’t just come down to Newquay for a visit, did she? She had another target in her sights, didn’t she?”

The woman pressed her hands deep into her lap, clearly feeling like it wasn’t a good idea to offer anything further. “I want you to promise me that you’re going to leave me out of it.”

Liv nodded, even though she didn’t think she could maintain that promise, especially if it went to court.

“I work in a children’s home,” Mrs Cobble explained, looking down at the table, eyes off the detectives. “Kids who don’t have anyone else to go to. Been doing it for a good few years now. Not the most financially rewarding job, but I like to take comfort in knowing that I’m contributing to giving these kids a better start in life than they would have had.”

“Linelle,” Liv began, losing her patience from all the grandstanding. “What was the issue?”

“Something didn’t seem right with that place,” the woman explained, finding an edge to her voice. “There were all these repairs that needed doing, but it felt like we never had the money for any of it. There’s a loose tile on the roof that needs fixing, but no money has materialised to fix it. And yet you’ll have members of staff turn up in these flashy cars.”

“Ms Cobble,” Liv began, “are you suggesting that the children’s home was running an embezzlement scam?”

“I don’t know,” she answered, sounding deflated. “I had no way of finding out. Like I said, I had no real access to the finances and no way of getting in there, not without arousing any suspicion.”

“But you felt that Carol might be able to make some inroads based on her prior experiences,” Liv surmised, knowing that Carol would have gladly thrown herself into the ring, personal consequences be damned.

“She was just going to have a look around. I didn’t think…” the woman began gulping heavily. “Oh, God… what if I got her killed? If I hadn’t suggested she look over that place…”

If this is the case, then we could be looking at a completely separate crime.

Liv knew that whatever suspicions the woman had about the children’s home, they couldn’t afford to go storming in there without a warrant.

“Ms Cobble, I was wondering if Carol left any personal belongings behind in the room she was staying in,” Liv inquired, and Archie gave a slight nod to show he could see where this was going.

“She did, why?” the woman asked, looking like she was ready to jump from the chair and bolt from the room.

“Because we’re going to need to have a look at everything she had on her,” Archie explained, putting the notebook away.

“But…” Whatever the woman had been expecting when she went forward, it clearly wasn’t the invasion of her personal space.

“Ms Cobble, you clearly did a brave thing in reaching out to Carol,” Liv emphasised, trying to find the right balance between supporting and firm. “But whatever Carol was doing down there, it’s possible she found something she shouldn’t have and that was what led to her being killed. Now, you owe it to her to help us take this through to the end and finish what she started.” When this did little to sway the woman, she added, a little more forceful, “We can always obtain a warrant if we need to, but I’m sure you’d rather cooperate with us willingly for your friend’s sake.”

Ms Cobble gulped, knowing she didn’t have much of a choice. “Okay,” she finally stated with a heavy nod. “For Carol’s sake.”

“Thank you,” Liv exclaimed, patting her hand. “You’re making the right decision.”

While Archie was sitting with the woman and trying to provide a modicum of comfort, Liv made her way up to the superintendent’s office, thinking about how to spin this.

First, they needed to rule out foul play. But the more she thought about it, the more she was conscious there was a bigger crime at hand.

And after years of exposing people, Carol Newman’s luck had finally run out.

5

“Ialways figured that someone would finally get around to Carol Newman,” Superintendent Collins muttered, squeezing a stress ball. Liv wondered if this was his new coping mechanism for whenever she came into his office. “But why Newquay of all places?” The way he phrased the question, it almost sounded like he was begrudging her for dying on his patch and becoming his problem to deal with.

“The whole reason she was down here was because she was looking at investigating a children’s home,” Liv explained, standing to attention.

She was half-worried that Collins would tell her this was a case she needed to go steady on and to think of the politics and to not overstep her boundaries.

But instead, he looked quite pensive, and Liv imagined it was to do with the mention of a children’s home. Collins would have worked on numerous cases of child exploitation in his career, and though the man was normally a stickler for procedure, he usually batted these concerns aside when children were involved.

“We’re going to have a lot of visibility on this,” Collins explained, getting up from his chair. “The top brass have mixed feelings about the Newman case. Some of them feel that they’ve lost valuable leads to any future cases, and others think that she was a nuisance who was always going to end up dead eventually.” He stopped pacing and looked at Liv. “Do you think the two cases are connected?”

“The fact that she was killed around the same time she was looking at this home is suggestive, even borderline suspicious,” Liv noted before adding, “But hardly conclusive.”

“What do you make of this Ms Cobble?” he asked.

“According to PC Shaw, she sent several messages to Carol’s phone, and when she didn’t get back to her, she called in to report a missing person. She might not have even counted on the news that Carol had died. But…” She wasn’t sure how to phrase the next bit, still trying to work out where Linell Cobble stood in the story.

“But what, DI Austin?” the superintendent asked gently, stepping back towards his chair. They’d been working together for nearly four years, and though they hadn't always seen eye to eye, Collins fully respected her instinct.

“Well, she seems very eager to insert herself into the investigation,” she noted, seeing how the woman had been quite restrained for the most part but then practically lit up.

“I’ve known her type before,” the superintendent acknowledged, tapping his fingers on the desk. “They don’t lead the most exciting lives and jump at the chance for their fifteen minutes of fame. Having said that, if we’re talking about safeguarding children, then we have to take that seriously. Do you need a warrant to search her premises?”

“No, she said we could go and check, although with the look she gave us, you’d have thought we were pulling teeth with pliers,” Liv admitted, wondering if there was anything fishy in that. “My other concern is that because she is directly connected to the home, she could be a target herself.”

“You think that she’s going to need police protection?” Collins asked, weighing up the risks.

“I think we need to find out exactly what we’re dealing with before we go any further,” Liv suggested, crossing her arms and ready to get on with the next part of the investigation. “The next thing will be to check out Ms Cobble’s house and see if we can find anything useful.”

Liv and Archie made their way into the property with forensic gear, Ms Cobble leading them up the staircase.

“When Carol set out, did she say where she was going or who she might be meeting?” Liv asked, trying to make sense of Carol Newman’s movements throughout the day. There was nothing to indicate that she owned a car, so to get from the centre of Newquay to Lewinnick Lodge, she would have had to take public transport.

“No, she just said that she had to head somewhere for a few hours and that she’d be back around early evening,” the woman indicated as they got to the top of the stairs.

“Did she ask you to come along at all?” Archie queried, remembering how Carol had previously contacted people anonymously and used them for her reports. The woman would have been a prime candidate.

“No, she told me it was far too dangerous and that she could handle it herself,” the woman replied, glad to be a part of the case but eager to keep herself separated from any danger. “Probably just as well. Otherwise, that could have been me going over the cliff with her.”

They opened the door to the bedroom, Liv half-expecting there to be a murder map or a conspiracy web…

…but instead, the room looked remarkably well kept. There was a suitcase positioned next to the bed and a laptop computer sitting on the desk. A book was lying next to it. Liv gingerly flipped it open and there were pages after pages of handwritten notes.

“We’re going to need to bag all of this,” Liv instructed, looking over the laptop.

“What’s going to happen with the care home?” Ms Cobble asked as she was standing in the doorway. “Are you going to go after anyone there?”

Liv weighed up the possibility. On the one hand, she couldn’t ignore the idea of children in danger. On the other hand, they had no idea what they were looking for and couldn’t rush in without knowing the full scope of the accusations.

“Did she share any specifics of her investigation with you?” Archie asked as Liv handed him the large notebook. “People she suspected specifically? Means of doing it?”

“No, not really,” the woman replied with a small mutter, sounding aggrieved that she’d been kept out of the major developments.

“How did you come to stumble on potential embezzlement?” Liv asked, wanting to make sure that this was more than just a hunch. And she doesn’t strike me as an investigator.

“You just have to look at some of the senior staff to work it out,” Ms Cobble iterated with a huff. “I’ve got nothing to worry about with the tax man—all my finances are in order. But if he went anywhere near my bosses, he’d have a field day. You imagine your typical manager, he earns this much…” She indicated a small space between her thumb and forefinger. “Bugger all. And he spends this much.” She gestured a wide space between her hands. “That’s not going to make any sense unless he’s doing the dirty.”

Liv had noticed one particular detail about the woman’s assumptions. “You haven’t referenced any names directly, Ms Cobble,” she noted, feeling a little confused by the withdrawal and the forthcoming tone at the same time.

“I’ve often been torn between my integrity and my desire to avoid a bollocking,” she explained, a steely resolve in her voice. “At the end of the day, I am not going to spill the beans until I’m absolutely sure I know what I’m dealing with. I’m not a natural copper.”

“So, how did Ms Newman go about collating information?” Archie asked, thinking that if the whistleblower’s reputation proceeded her, it wasn’t as if she could just walk into the home and start asking questions.

“I would go in there and look around, and if I saw anything suspicious, I’d get it back to her,” Ms Cobble explained, looking pleased with herself.

Liv looked down at the notes. Clearly, Carol had managed to make some progress considering the streams of information.

“Whether this would have held up in court, I don’t know,” Ms Cobble continued, looking grief-stricken again. “I knew they’d try and cover their tracks, but I certainly didn’t imagine they’d kill anyone.”

Liv looked over the evidence before beginning to bag it. There would be plenty of time before they went for the child’s home. For now, they needed specific proof that Carol Newman’s death had been a murder. So far, all they had was speculation.

“We need to get this over to the tech people,” she decided, gesturing to the laptop. “And then we’ve got to pay Elliot a visit.”

“Is there anything more you need from me?” Ms Cobble asked, but the detectives were busy bagging up the leads and were barely listening.

“We’ll be in touch if we need anything else,” the inspector responded absently, focused on gathered the information that might lead them to the answers they sought.

6

Liv couldn’t help but appreciate the irony that a visit to the pathologist’s office was always able to put her at ease.

Dr Elliot James approached offering his hand, though Liv couldn’t help but wonder where the hand had been.

“It’d be good if we could meet up under lighter circumstances,” Dr James noted with a soft smile, the kind that assured people everything would be all right and their worst troubles were behind them.

“I will say,” Elliot noted as they followed him down the corridor. “Having seen the state of the body, I’m actually pleased I didn’t bother with that bacon butty this morning.”

They took a look at the body for a direct look for the first time.

The woman’s head, chest and shoulders had just about survived the impact; everything else had been pulped. The left side of her face had been shattered, her jaw hanging at an uneven angle, and Liv wasn’t sure if the recovery team had been so successful in scooping up all the brain that’d fallen out of her cracked skull. Archie had to cover his mouth, and Liv did not envy the people who had the job of scooping up the shattered remains.

“For starters,” Elliot began, carefully turning her over. “I found that the bulk of the injuries—the laceration, the bruising—was found on her back, which means that unless she was literally twisting in the wind, she landed back first on impact.”

“Which would imply she was facing towards the lodge when she fell,” Archie added, imagining the scenario of Carol falling backwards of her own volition and finding it ludicrous.

“That’s not all,” Elliot continued, returning her to the face-up position. “I had a look at the clothes she was wearing, specifically the boots. She kicked up a lot of dirt on the toes of her boots, which would indicate she was trying to get a foothold for some time.”

Okay, this is definitely sounding interesting.

“I’ve found plenty of stone fragments embedded in the skin,” Dr James continued, frowning as he spoke. “And I have spent the bulk of the morning picking them out of the victim. There was a deep incision on the cheek, and somehow, I don’t think it was done by any of the rocks.”

A defensive wound, maybe?

“I also found some bruising around the forearms and the ribs, which would suggest either that she’d been in a fight—”

“Or someone had tried to manhandle her off the cliff,” the inspector finished, now regretting not detaining all of the guests at the lodge. For all I know, one of them could have been the killer.

“Based on the angling and where the bulk of the injuries originated, I think it’s safe to assume that this was neither an accident nor a suicide. Someone pushed her off the cliff,” Dr James concluded ominously. “I also found defensive wounds under her fingernails. She knew she was going to die so clearly she gave as good as she got beforehand.

“Any idea where she would have left the wounds?” Liv asked, thinking that if they could find someone who’d had a chunk clawed out of their face, then the case would be easily solved.

“Not particularly,” Elliot replied, embarrassed that he didn’t have more to offer.

At least we have definitive proof she was murdered.

Liv walked into Clara’s workstation to see the technician, as ever, nose-deep in in the equipment that she’d been bought.

“How are you getting on with that?” Liv asked, ready for the mountain of clues that only she would have picked up on.

“Well, I’ve gone over her computer, and I’m trying to get a sense of her MO,” Clara responded without turning her head. “She has a folder of favourites devoted specifically to news articles detailing the companies she’s brought down. She likes to look back on her own achievements.”

“Might be veering on the egotistical side, but maybe she wants to be able to look back on her accomplishments with a sense of pride,” Liv suggested, though she struggled to see the point. I don’t need to decorate a shrine to myself to know I’m making a difference.

“Or maybe she has them all here so that she can tell herself it was worth it,” the technician suggested, opening up a tab on the computer.

The tab showed a number of email exchanges between Carol and her ex-husband Ted. In the messages, she’d been arguing for shared custody of their children, but Ted had argued repeatedly that she’d chosen this line of work, and she’d chosen to make their kids a target. He said that the only way they’d ever be safe would be if she wasn’t a part of their lives; a point she’d seemingly conceded because there hadn’t been any more exchanges between the two for a while. There were pictures of the children decorating the desktop background, but she wasn’t present in any of the photos. If anything, it looked like they’d been pulled from social media and posted onto the laptop.

“Maybe this is why she threw herself into this whistleblowing gig so much,” Clara suggested empathically. “Maybe it was her way of telling herself it was worth it.”

Liv silently nodded along. It pained her to look at the images of Carol’s family, knowing that there would never be a time for reconciliation.

“How far are you getting with the care home?” Clara asked, having a lot of information on hand, but wanting the inspector’s input before she put the picture together.

“Well, they’re currently suspect number one,” Olivia explained, feeling that they certainly had means and motive. “While I can definitely see them organising something like this, it definitely wouldn’t be their smartest move. It’d just shine a spotlight on them.”

“I’ve taken the liberty of looking through the last few cases she’s worked on,” Clara explained, gesturing to a spreadsheet she made on her own computer. “I think that assuming it’s someone from one of her previous incidents doing a bit of belated revenge, the more recent the incident, the more likely they will want some kind of payback.

“So, these are the last three cases that she was working on,” the technician continued, pointing to some locations on Google Maps. “There was a case in Scotland, a pharmaceutical company that was rolling out heavily addictive painkillers.”

“They’d be travelling a long way to get their payback,” Liv observed, hoping that no one would put in that kind of effort.

“There’s also a case which dealt with labouring migrant workers without decent pay,” Clara added, looking over some of the images. “I believe these were sweatshops that had pisspoor health and safety conditions. And there was also a case where a restaurant owner was taking liberties with the younger female staff. All of these cases happened over the last five years.”

“Bloody hell, she definitely kept herself busy,” Liv exclaimed, folding her arms, impressed by the carnage the woman had wrought.

“Do you think any of them could have done it?” Clara suggested, bringing up the profiles of all the participants in the case.

“Chances are, if these were high-profile cases, then they would have been in the media,” Liv noted. “Try cross-referencing what you see in the computer with anything you find in the news. See what you can come up with.”

There was a knock on the door, and both women turned to see who had requested entrance. “Come in,” Liv directed as Sam stepped into the room.

“Just thought you should know we’ve been looking at the images on Ms Newman’s camera to see if we could get anything related to her killer.”

“And what did you find?” Liv asked, thinking that for someone who lived life on the edge, surely Carol Newman would have taken precautions if someone ever got the drop on her.

Sam pulled out a series of photographs recovered from the camera. “For the most part, we’ve got a load of wildlife, but it was the last images that were particularly interesting.”

She handed a photo to Liv who studied it.

The sun was casting a long shadow on the lodge, and there wasn’t anyone present in the photo, save the silhouette of one person.

7

“Shit,” Liv muttered in a low voice, realising that she could be looking at Carol Newman’s killer… or she would be if the sun hadn’t been obscuring any details.

She passed the photo to Clara, hoping that the technician would be able to apply her eagle eye. “Any way of telling whether that’s a man or a woman?”

“Can’t really tell,” Clara responded, unable to determine whether the shape surrounding the figure was their clothing or whether it was the person’s body itself.

“Can you get the image enhanced?” Liv asked, handing it back to Sam.

“I’ve already sent a copy to the team,” Sam responded, putting on a grimace as if to say, ‘don’t get too hopeful’. “They aren’t making any promises, but they said they hope to have something for us before the end of tomorrow.”

“I’ll take that,” Liv replied, realizing that they had several leads in progress, but at the moment, it looked like they’d taken it as far as they could for the day. “Well done, everyone. This gives us something to work with.”

She walked back into the main office as everything started winding down and everyone was heading home.

All except one.

“As much as I admire your enthusiasm, DS Harding,” Liv began, walking over to the sergeant’s chair. “I think they’re trying to cut back on overtime.”

“Oh, everyone else can go home, I don’t mind the extra hustle and bustle,” the sergeant commented, putting on a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I actually find I work a lot better when I don’t have a load of constant noise going on in my ears.”

Liv brushed aside the defensive comment and took in Nikki’s slightly dishevelled appearance. I’m fairly sure that she was wearing that same shirt the day before.

And now that she thought about it, Nikki’s car hadn’t changed position in the station car park over the last few days.

“Is everything all right, Nikki?” Liv asked, taking a seat next to her colleague.

“Yeah, it’s going to be fine,” Nikki replied, though the weariness in her voice suggested otherwise. There were dark rings around her eyes and Liv was pretty sure she’d lost weight.

“Nikki,” Liv replied with a cautious tone. “As someone who’s mastered the art of bottling things up, I strongly recommend you avoid making the same mistake.” When Nikki kept on tapping away at the computer, Liv took a firmer approach. “For this case, I need everyone to be on their A-game. I cannot risk any of you falling asleep on the job. Otherwise, the top brass is going to come down on me for getting you to that stage.”

“Your concern is overwhelming,” Nikki replied sardonically, holding a hand to her chest. But there was a sadness present in her face.

“Tell you what,” Liv decided, getting back to her feet and knowing that Nikki was probably too prideful to admit her own issues. “Why don’t you come back to mine and we can crack open a bottle of wine and talk about the case?”

She watched the sergeant weigh up her options—spend the night at Liv’s or another night in the station car park.

“Yeah, I guess we can discuss a few theories,” Nikki suggested, trying not to make it sound like she was giving in. She grabbed her coat and flung it over her shoulders.

As soon as they arrived back at the house, it was clear Nikki needed the rest. She fell onto the sofa, and for a moment, Liv assumed she’d conked straight out.

But a moment later, she straightened herself up. “Sorry,” she offered sheepishly, and Liv remembered all the times she’d seen the sardonic piss-taking mask in place. And now it was slipping. “Thanks for this. I really needed it. Enzo filed for divorce.”

Shit, Liv thought, clearly seeing that the sergeant’s mask was not as airtight as she’d been led to believe.

“Sorry to hear that, Nikki,” Liv replied, taking a seat on the sofa next to her colleague, trying to think of a gesture that wouldn’t come across as patronising.

“Don’t be,” Nikki replied, waving her hand and taking a swig of wine. “And before you say anything, it wasn’t the dalliances with the guv that did us over.”

Liv remembered the number of times she’d come into Collins’ office under the pretense of ‘consulting’ with DS Harding, but she always left with a flustered and sweaty expression, and he hadn’t been able to hide the lipstick marks and love bites decorating his neck.

“Enzo was spending far too much time at work,” she explained, helping herself to another healthy glass of red wine, as Liv accepted that she’d be playing the role of therapist for a while.

Please God, don’t let her turn up for work the next day smelling like a pub.

“I think he wanted a traditional wife and mother, buying into the ‘stay in the kitchen’ mentality,” she continued, letting years of hurt pouring out of her. “Every time I headed out into that station, I might as well have been pissing in his face. You know the worst thing about it?” she continued, getting off all the hurt. “I am not even that cut up about our marriage. I think there was always a part of me that knew we weren’t going to work out, but the real casualty in all this is my daughter Francesca.”

Liv remembered all the talks DS Harding had given about her five-year-old daughter. Regardless of what she thought about everyone else, Nikki loved her daughter unconditionally.

“I grew up in a broken home,” the woman explained, sounding completely fragile. “And I told myself that Francesca wasn’t going to witness that with me or Enzo. That she was going to get the best childhood. That she wasn’t going to grow up seeing her parents fighting each other.”

“So, why are you here and not in the family home?” Liv inquired, drinking her own wine.

“Because this may come as a surprise to you, DI Austin, but I have a bit of a temper on me,” she commented with a crooked smile.

“Really!?” Liv exclaimed sarcastically. “I didn’t know that. Tell me more.”

Nikki held up a playful middle finger. “Anyway, I just know that if I stick around in that house, I’m going to flip out at him, and I’m going to call him every name under the sun. I don’t really want my daughter to see all of that, so I told her that Mummy had to go away on a work trip… which sounded a lot better than saying, ‘I can’t go ten seconds without wanting to throttle your dad.’”

Liv nodded along. “Well, that’s very decent of you,” she noted sincerely, hoping she’d never find herself in a similar position with Dean.

“So, currently, we’re in a back and forth over who gets primary custody,” she continued, letting some of the anger come out as she gripped the wine glass so hard that Liv thought she was going to shatter it. “I would have thought that as the mother, I would have that responsibility. But instead, the bastard is trying to claim that I’m an inattentive parent who works long hours, doesn’t make any time for my child, and practically sleeps at the office.”

“Well, he’s not too far off on that last one,” Liv suggested, prompting a hearty laugh from the sergeant.

“So, where’s Dean in all this?” she asked, looking around the room as though expecting him to pop up.

“He’s away on a trip to Italy to see his mum,” she replied, feeling heavy and that his absence really impacted the atmosphere of the house. Even Briggs was a lot less energetic than usual.

“Ah, that makes sense,” Nikki muttered, setting the glass down, wisely deciding that she’d had enough. “I imagine if he were here, I probably wouldn’t be.”

Liv gave a little shrug in response.

“Well, either way,” Nikki replied with what looked like the first genuine smile in a while. “Thanks for putting me up for the night. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need it.”

The two remained sat on the sofa for a while and Liv felt herself relaxing more and more.

8

The next morning, Liv went in for work alongside the clearly refreshed DS Harding. It’d been a good night, and Liv had felt that the barriers that had once been between them were now practically non-existent—although she could have done without the snoring.

It had rattled through the house, and there were moments when Liv imagined herself standing over the sofa with a pillow in her hand. All the while, Nikki had been completely oblivious. However, she’d told the sergeant that she could stay until Dean got back from his trip, which would give her some stability and meant that Nikki could turn up for work feeling her best.

“Right, then, team,” she announced as they all assembled around the board. “I think we need to look at the care home. Tim, what do we know about this place?”

Tim quickly consulted his notes. “It’s called Joyce Home,” he stated. “It’s been around for about four decades, has changed hands at least three times. Home to at least twenty kids.”

“Is there anything to indicate a bit of shady shit?” Liv asked, knowing that the worst killers often hit behind altruistic facades.

“Nothing in the media, and as far as I’m aware, we haven’t got records for any of the staff members down for anything,” the DS continued, “A few of the kids they’ve had under their care have probably got a few crimes to their name.”

“That’s not surprising,” Archie chimed in. “Fifty percent of kids who grow up in care end up in prison.”

“Well, I’m going to look at getting down to the care home and speaking with some of the staff, and DS Elmhurst, I want you accompanying me,” she instructed, pointing to Archie. “DS Harding and DS Harris, keep looking through the files, and also see if there’s anything on the kids that are staying there.”

“You don’t really think a child could have shoved her off the cliff, do you?” Tim asked, taken aback. “Surely, if she was uncovering signs of neglect, they’d think she was on their side.”

“Well, we won’t know for sure when we head down there,” Liv commented, not wanting to consider the possibility that a child could have been behind the attack but feeling she couldn’t rule it out altogether.

The building looked like it hadn’t been renovated for some time, some of the decor stuck in the late twentieth century.

The man who appeared to greet them did not look like the kind of man one would find working in a children’s home. His tan glistened so much, Liv was sure she could see her face in his shiny forehead.

“I’m Bob Bailey,” the man announced, shaking Liv’s hand. “I hope none of the kids have been caught red-handed in the street…”

Liv raised an eyebrow. A simple shoplifting case would have been Andrew’s territory. She made a mental note to check in with him later.

“Actually, Mr Bailey, this is about a woman who died two days ago,” she explained, releasing herself from the shiny hand. “Carol Newman?”

The manager pursed his lips. “No, I’m sorry, that name doesn’t ring a bell.”

Liv reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph of Carol Newman. “Have you seen this woman around before?”

Mr Bailey’s eyes lit up with recognition. “You mean Betsy? Yes, she’s come here a few times already.”

Liv and Archie exchanged a look. Clearly, the woman was smart enough to use a fake identity.

“And what was the nature of her business?” Archie queried, thinking of the numerous ways Carol could have embedded herself into the narrative.

“She said that she was a reporter and was doing a piece on care homes and the stress that staff members undergo,” Mr Bailey told them with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll be honest, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it, but I figured it was more publicity for the home, so why not?” His eyes suddenly widened as though the implication of the inspector’s words finally fell on him. “Wait a minute, she’s dead?”

“She was pushed over the cliffs at Lewinnick Lodge,” Liv explained, remembering how her own holiday had been disrupted by the murder. “We’re trying to trace her last movements, and apparently, she visited this place a lot in the days leading up to her death.”

“Right,” Mr Bailey replied, looking down at his watch. “I’m very sorry, but I’ve got a meeting in fifteen minutes. If you could walk with me…”

As they walked down the corridor, Liv looked around at the building, trying to see if there was any proof in Carol’s claims. She wasn’t exactly expecting a rat-infested tenement straight out of a Dickens novel, but she’d thought of a bit more wear and tear. How can I bring Linelle Cobble into this without putting her in the firing line?

“So, somebody killed her?” Bob asked as they came into an office that was less an office and more of a cupboard with everything clustered together.

“It looks that way,” Liv replied as she helped herself to a seat. “When did you last see ‘Betsy?’”

“About five days ago,” he replied, mulling over the question as though it required quite a bit of thought.

“And how did you leave things with her?” Archie asked, conscious that Mr Bailey wasn’t as guarded as they expected.

“Well, we were talking about her story, and we got her to interview some of the kids who talked about the care they received,” he explained, sifting through paperwork on his desk as he spoke. “She said she’d heard some interesting things about this place and felt it’d make a great piece. So, she came to visit us about seven times over the last few weeks.”

“Did she ask any specific questions?” Liv asked, angling towards the till stealing Ms Cobble had mentioned.

“She asked us about the resources we put into the home and whether we did anything differently from the other care homes,” Mr Bailey told them, taking a certain pride in what he felt was a forward-thinking mentality. “We try to work on life skills, homemaking stuff, all the things that aren’t typically covered in the classroom. Sometimes, we even organise trips to theme parks for them.”

If Olivia hadn’t possessed prior knowledge, she would have been full of admiration for the work he was doing. He certainly doesn’t come across as a man who has something to hide.

“And how did your guest respond to all of this?” she queried, knowing that Carol would be fishing for anything out of place or taking a ‘too good to be true’ mentality.

Mr Bailey’s face broke into a frown. “Well, I’ll tell you this, she seemed hard to please. We were showing her all of this stuff that none of the other care homes are likely doing, and yet it didn’t seem any of it was good enough for her. I mean, I’m not saying we were offering these kids a razzle dazzle lifestyle, but we weren’t going to settle for doing the bare minimum. A bit of acknowledgement wouldn’t hurt.”

“So how did you leave it when you last saw her?” Liv asked.

Mr Bailey had a perplexed look on his face. “It was a surprise, really. She looked a little forlorn at the end of it all. She said she’d be in contact over the next few days but needed to take a break to get her head around things. When I asked her about the story she was writing, she said that the story would definitely run… but it probably wouldn’t be the story she’d been expecting.”

Liv and Archie exchanged a look as they digested this. “Did she give any indication of what the story would be about?”

“She said she couldn’t say anything yet, but she said we’d need to have a chat about our staff. She was a little dodgy on the details,” he replied, looking a bit put out by the secrecy. “A few days went by, and we thought that she’d forgotten about us. But obviously, she died.” He looked at the two. “You don’t think it was anything to do with us, do you?”

Neither Liv nor Archie was able to provide a definite answer.

9

“Well, if I’m honest, that’s not the way I thought it was going to go,” Liv muttered as they made their way back to the car.

“He seemed like a fairly upstanding guy.” Archie noted admiringly. “Okay, so the man probably spends a bit too much time under the sunbed, but he sounds like he genuinely has those kids’ best interests in mind. He seemed surprisingly at ease.”

“Suspiciously at ease?” Liv, asked with a raised eyebrow. “Though I would suggest that you can be chatty without being a murderer,” she added, having been doing the job long enough to get a good read on people.

“You know that a simple way of dealing with it is to take a look at their finances,” Archie suggested. “If they are skimming off the top, then it won’t be that hard to pick out.”

“On what grounds?” Liv asked, feeling like they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. “The only evidence we have that there was any kind of embezzlement going on is Linelle Cobble’s accusation. Clara is still looking through all the relevant information on the laptop and phone, so hopefully, we’ll have something we can use.”

Archie nodded slowly. “So, it’s basically a waiting game until then.”

“More or less,” she replied, settling into her seat and taking a moment’s rest.

But no sooner had she started to relax, her phone started ringing. Without even looking at the caller ID, she lifted the phone to her ear with a weary sigh. “DI Austin.”

“Liv, it’s Andrew. You’re not going to believe what’s just happened,” he exclaimed heavily. There was no trace of humour in his voice, which was always worrying, given that PC Shaw was practically the class clown at the station. “I need you to get down to the town centre right away,” he continued, speaking rapidly. “Me and Diana have picked up one of the kids from the care home you’re looking into.”

They pulled up in the town centre and got out of the car, crossing the street to where Andrew was stood outside his service vehicle. Diana was sat in the car in conversation with a young girl in the back who couldn’t be any older than thirteen or fourteen.

“You seem to be finding yourself in all the right places at the right time,” Liv noted, wondering if Andrew had been assigned the role of ‘lucky charm’ for the case.

“I’m beginning to think I might be jinxed,” he joked before the conversation turned serious again. “We’ve picked up a girl who was caught shoplifting from an off license. I honestly can’t understand why some people are willing to brave prison for a Mars Bar.”

Liv was looking at the girl in the car, and she was having a difficult time imagining that her stealing at the same time the care home was being investigated could be a coincidence.

“Do you want to have a word with her?” Andrew suggested, gesturing to the car.

“Can’t hurt,” Liv offered with a shrug and walking over to the car, opening the door, prompting the girl to flinch back from her. “My name is Liv, what’s your name?” she offered softly.

When the girl didn’t offer any answer, Diana chimed in with, “Her name’s Melanie Edwards, and I believe this is her first offence.”

Liv looked the girl up and down. She was wearing torn jeans, a t-shirt advertising some brand she’d never heard of, and her black hair was showing what looked like some haphazard attempt at highlighting.

“Melanie, my name is Olivia,” she said gently, clearly seeing that the girl needed space. For her part, Melanie pulled at the sleeves of her top, and Liv wondered if the girl had been a victim of abuse. She was certainly showing a lot of the signs.

“Melanie, do you mind telling me why you stole from the shop?” she asked, suspecting this wasn’t a simple robbery.

“You aren’t going to arrest me and put me in a cell?” she asked, her voice sounding hopeful. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she wanted to get banged up.

Liv flexed her jaw as she tried to consider the right approach. “Well, considering that this is your first offence—and as my colleague says, you have no prior convictions—I see no reason why we can’t let you off with a slap on the wrist and drop you back at the home.”

Those last few words triggered something in the girl, and she instantly went into panic mode. “No, you can’t take me back there, please.”

This wasn’t a hardened thug who had a rough life of crime ahead of her. Liv could see clearly that she was a frightened girl in fear for what the future held.

“Is there something you want to tell us, Melanie?” she asked gently, wanting to get in the car and reassure her but knowing she could take any attempt at physical contact as a sign of attack. But the moment of panic had passed, and the girl was clamming up again.

“If you’re worried about something, we can protect you,” the inspector pleaded, daring to move closer. As she did, she noticed that the girl had a cut lip, possibly having been in a fight. “But if you don’t talk to us, then we can only do so much.”

It was a harsh stance to take, but Liv wanted to get through to the girl.

Melanie looked Liv up and down, trying to build herself up to trusting the woman.

“Over at the care home…” she began in a low voice, “there’s a member of the staff who keeps on trying to… do things with me.”

Liv felt like she was going to be sick. “What kind of things?” she dared herself to ask hoarsely.

“Do you really need me to tell you?” Melanie asked, looking haunted and suddenly appearing to Liv so much older than her thirteen years. Something had clearly happened to her that meant that she’d never look at the world the same way again. There was a piece of innocence she wouldn’t be able to recover.

“You don’t have to tell us anything about those… details now, but do you think that you can tell me who’s been doing it?” the inspector pleaded, silently praying that this was one sick individual acting alone and not an institution of abuse at work.

But the girl was not ready to part with that information yet.

Liv tried to find an angle that would get her to open up.

“Do you know if anyone else has been threatened with the same abuse?” Liv asked, knowing that in these settings, victims would often stick together and go out of their way to protect one another.

“There’s another girl there who’s four years younger than me. They say that if I’m good for them, then they’ll leave her alone. And when I tried to refuse, they did this.” She gestured to the cut on her lip. “And they reminded me that it’d be even worse if I tried to speak to anyone.”

“Have you told anyone else about this?” Liv asked, recognising the abuse for what it was but not wanting to bombard the girl with terminology.

“There was one person,” Melanie admitted, allowing the faintest of a smile. “A nice woman who noticed something was up. She told me that she’d done this many times before and that she could make sure that me and all the other girls were safe. And I believed her. Two days ago, the care worker came up to me and told me that she wouldn’t be coming around here for much longer and threatened me to keep quiet.”

This could possibly be the same person who killed Carol. At the very least, we know now it was someone from the care home.

Liv pulled out the picture of Carol and showed it to Melanie. “Is this the woman in question?”

Melanie took the picture with a trembling hand. “Yes, it is,” she gasped, blinking back tears. “She said that she died because of me, because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

“Let me make something absolutely clear, Melanie,” Olvia barked sternly, sitting down in the car and locking eyes with the girl. “What happened to this woman was absolutely nothing to do with you. It was because of some sick creep who has no place being near…” She trailed off as she picked up on the specific pronoun used. “Wait, it’s a she?” Who is it?”

“If I tell you, do you promise not to take me back to the home?” Melanie pleaded, and after a nod from Liv, she almost whispered, “Her name’s Miss Cobble.”

10

The knuckles on Liv’s skin whitened as she digested the information. That bitch has been laughing in our faces since the moment she first walked into the police station.

“Firstly, Melanie, I just want you to know that you’ve been very brave in telling us this. I’m so sorry that you had to endure something like that, but I promise you that I am going to find the woman who did this and make sure she doesn’t hurt anyone ever again.”

She looked to Diana. “Take her to the station and get her something to eat. No charges are to be brought. And keep her there until I decide otherwise.”

“On it.” Diana nodded, getting back in the car.

She looked to Andrew, who’d been listening in to the conversation from nearby. “Do you need me to come with you in the form of backup?” he asked, no trace of humour in his voice.

“We’ll handle this, Andrew,” Liv insisted, trying to think of how to best play it. “For now, I need you to go back to the station with Diana and see if you can get the girl to open up. We need to find out the full scope of what we’re dealing with.”

Andrew didn’t need to be told twice, simply nodding and getting into the police car.

Liv marched back to her own car, almost stomping the ground as she did so.

“Liv,” Archie began, trying to keep up. “Maybe we should think this through…”

“How could I have been so fucking stupid?” Liv exclaimed as she got back in the car. “She turns up playing the good Samaritan, desperate to get involved with the case. Should have realised something was wrong.”

“It sounds like she was playing everybody for a long time,” Archie noted as they drove through traffic. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“We’re going to go to her house, and we’re going to throw her where the sun doesn’t shine,” Liv fired back, taking comfort in knowing exactly what happened to child molesters in prison.

“Just don’t be rash,” Archie advised, though he suspected there was more to her ire than being fooled by Linelle Cobble. Her brother Alex had been a victim of grooming when he was a child which had resulted in an unexpected pregnancy. Although Liv would never begrudge her nephew Daniel the circumstances of his birth, she still felt nothing but outrage for the bitch who’d taken advantage of Alex.

Archie knew better than to bring it up directly in conversation and instead tried to get his friend to focus on the case. “We still need to work out how this connects to the embezzlement case. I mean, why would she hire someone to look into the care home if she were only going to come under scrutiny herself?”

Liv couldn’t provide an answer to that. But then again, she had no real wish to break into the mind of a pervert.

Liv’s phone suddenly started ringing, and she saw it was Clara. “DI Austin,” she began, her voice a low growl.

“Liv, I’ve been looking through the files on Carol Newman’s computer, and there are a few things that don’t add up,” the technician replied in a cautious tone.

“You don’t say,” Liv snarled before catching herself and asking softly, “How so?”

“Carol did originally start looking at the care home for possible embezzlement, but she writes in her notes that the evidence she was given was forged.”

Liv looked to Archie. “Three guess who gave her the evidence.”

“It goes on to say that the embezzlement accusations were likely to be a cover for something else.” Clara gulped heavily. She was obviously following the same train of inquiry as the detectives, and it revolted her. “She says there were allegations of sexual abuse.”

“We’ve already heard, Clara. You don’t need to go into any more detail,” Liv offered before adding, “We’re going to nab the bitch right now.”

“Make sure you throw everything you’ve got at her,” the normally timid technician insisted before ending the call.

“So, it looks like the evidence for the embezzlement was forged,” Liv reported as they hit a red light.

“I’m still at a loss as to what her game plan was,” the sergeant noted, scratching his head. “Carol is only aware of the case because of Linelle Cobble.”

“She must have been worried about the information getting out and everyone knowing that she sexually assaulted minors in her care,” Liv surmised, trying to put all the pieces together. “I’m guessing she invented the embezzlement story because she thought that any possible accusations would get drowned out.”

“But she’d threatened the girls into silence,” Archie pointed out, thinking back to Melanie’s petrified expression.

“There’s always the risk of slipping up, and that was clearly the case here,” she continued. “She probably didn’t count on Carol actually speaking to any of the girls at the home and picking up on the signs. So, she would have changed gear on the story, and Linelle must have got wind of it because afterwards, the only option was to kill her.”

“That wouldn’t have made any difference,” he retorted. “You can’t put the genie back in the bottle.”

“Maybe she thought that she could control the situation and come out looking like a hero,” Liv suggested, shuddering at the woman’s possible thought process. “She gets the place shut down, gets lauded for her efforts, and practically becomes the new Carol Newman. Just think… if Melanie hadn’t tried to get herself arrested, we’d probably still be chasing a non-existent paper trail.” She shuddered to imagine how long it would have gone on for if Carol hadn’t got involved.

“Once we’ve got Linelle Cobble in custody, I think we need to look at getting the place shut down,” she concluded, nearing the house. When Archie gave her an incredulous look, she added, “Every second that goes by without any action, those kids are at risk.”

“Surely, once the bitch is in custody, we don’t have to worry so much,” he suggested, feeling like he needed to step into the role of Olivia’s minder. “We don’t know the full scope of the abuse.”

“Well, there are a few possibilities,” Liv concluded. “Either Ms Cobble is acting alone as the sole abuser, there are other people participating in the abuse, or there are staff members who aren’t actively involved in the abuse but will happily turn a blind eye to it to avoid jeopardising their own careers.”

“You really think they’d actually ignore the suffering of those children?” the sergeant asked.

“You’d be surprised what people will do in the name of self-preservation,” Liv muttered.

They parked up outside the house and marched towards the door.

“You aren’t going to take it too far, are you?” Archie asked.

“I’m not going to pass judgment. That’s the court’s job,” she retorted. But this time I’m tempted to do the job myself.

She banged on the door. “Ms Cobble, open the door, please!”

There was no reply. Archie peered through the window, trying to glimpse any sign of life. He turned to his colleague and shook his head.

“Linelle, we know you’re in there, open up!” Still no reply.

Liv tried her luck with the door handle, surprised to find it unlocked.

She started racing through each room, looking for any signs of life. But Linelle Cobble was not there.

“I want this house searched from top to bottom,” she instructed, not caring if they didn’t have a warrant. After the fear she’d seen in Melanie’s eyes, she would gladly unload on the twisted woman, consequences be damned.

They made their way to Linelle’s bedroom, all the items in the house seeming to indicate that the care worker had no life whatsoever outside of work. Liv darkly wondered if she brought her work home with her.

The answer came after a search underneath the bed. She pulled out a shoebox and looked inside. There were dozens and dozens of photos of Melanie in a state of undress.

Liv dropped the box to the ground as though it were a live bomb.

11

As forensics descended on the scene, Liv left the house in a daze, wandering as far away from the house as possible before stopping at the side of the road where she fell to her knees and started retching. Every time she felt she knew what pure evil looked like, a fresh reminder came along to shatter her.

“You feeling all right?” Archie asked, having followed her out to the street.

“I will be when that bitch is behind bars,” Liv spluttered as she got to her feet. “Where the fuck has she gone?”

“Maybe she worked out we were gaining traction on her and decided to make a run for it,” Archie suggested, looking back at the forensic people carrying stuff out of the house. “Which begs the question of how she would know we were onto her. We only picked up Melanie half an hour ago.”

“Maybe someone else warned her,” Liv suggested through gritted teeth. “Someone who was working with her.”

“Well, maybe once we get all this down to the forensics, we can find out if anyone else was involved,” Archie suggested with a grimace. “I do not envy the poor soul that has to look through those pictures.”

It was rare to see Superintendent Collins rendered speechless. Liv and Archie had since updated him on the developments of the case and were deciding the next course of action.

“We actually believed she was helping this investigation,” he muttered under his breath, his whole body going limp in the chair. “How could we be so stupid?”

“I think she led everyone down that line of thought,” Liv offered, having spent enough time kicking herself for not seeing the predator for what she was.

“What’s happening with the girl downstairs?” Collins asked, having been told about Melanie. “I’m not sending back into that place knowing what I know. And we still don’t know if anyone else is involved or if there are any other kids in jeopardy.”

“Personally, sir, I think we’ve at the very least got enough grounds to interrogate the staff,” Liv suggested, eager to get back out there. “Until Linelle resurfaces again, we should at least focus on the care home, especially now we know the angle Carol Newman was aiming for.”

“I’d be happy to come down there and help you round some of them up,” Nikki called out from her office. This didn’t surprise Liv, considering Nikki’s volatile attitude reserved for the sickest of criminals on top of being a mother herself.

“I think our next port of call would be speaking with the manager and finding out what he knows, if anything,” Archie suggested, doing his best to keep a level tone despite his obvious rage.

“Okay.” Collins nodded approvingly. “And if you don’t like what you hear, then I want those kids out of that place.”

Bob Bailey hadn’t expected to see the detectives again so soon and was immediately unnerved by the steely looks on their faces.

“Is this about the journalist?” he asked impatiently, clearly eager to get back to work.

“No, Mr Bailey,” Liv snapped back, having no time for any bullshit, “this is about one of your staff members sexually abusing one of the children in your care.”

Mr Bailey went completely white and looked like he was going to faint. “No, you’ve got to be mistaken—”

“We’ve spoken to one of the girls who was regularly coerced into sexual activities,” Archie declared, his fingers curled into fists. “This had been going on for some time, and she went along with it apparently to spare some of the younger children experiencing similar abuse.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, walking up and down in the room, his whole world vanishing. “Which staff member was responsible?”

“Linelle Cobble,” Liv responded, almost wishing she had some of the photographs on her to hammer the point home.

“And which girl has made the allegation?” he asked with strangled breath.

“We’re not at liberty to discuss that,” Liv replied, feeling that Melanie needed safeguarding more than ever considering how the system had let her down.

“But we’re going to need to speak with all members of your staff and definitely some of the children to see if there have been any other examples of abuse.”

“I swear to you…” he stammered, the energy pouring out of him. “I didn’t know anything about this. I’m a dad myself. If I’d known what she was doing under my own watch…”

Liv wasn’t sure if she was ready to believe him just yet.

“Why don’t you tell us a bit more about Linelle Cobble?” she suggested, hoping they could at least fill in the blanks.

“She’s been working with us for five years now,” Mr Bailey explained, clearly trying to be helpful as compensation for not realizing what had been occurring right under his nose. “Before this, she was a social care worker.”

“What was she like with people? Staff and kids?” Liv asked, an involuntary shudder going through her at that last bit.

“With the staff, she was fairly courteous,” the manager responded, drawing back on half a decade of mostly forgotten memories. “She wasn’t the kind of person who’d go down the pub for a pint at the end of the day, but she could be counted on to do a good job. And the kids seemed to respect her… or at least, she was able to get them to do what she wanted.” He closed his eyes at such a poor choice of words.

“Was she close with anyone in the home?” Liv asked, thinking of possible co-conspirators.

“No one that I can think of. She pretty much kept to herself,” he replied, angry with himself for not seeing the signs. “I swear to you both, I had no idea that she was doing any of this. If I had, I would have put a stop to it.”

She looked him up and down for any hint of bluff. If this was a performance, it was a very convincing one.

“I talked with her so many times… and I never saw anything to suggest she was doing…” His voice trailed. “The girl she was abusing, how is she? I don’t expect you to tell me anything about her, but is she all right?”

“She’s in police custody,” Liv explained, feeling she needed to give him this at least. “Apparently, she was so terrified that she felt like the only option open to her was getting arrested.”

“I… I failed her,” he muttered softly, the weight of his blindness falling on him. “I’m so sorry…”

“You want to put it right?” Liv asked, not having time to dispense with niceties. “Help us find Linelle Cobble. There’s got to be somewhere she could have gone. She’s not just wanted for sexual abuse of a minor, but also for murder.”

“Murder?” he repeated, sounding horrified. “Who is she supposed to have…”

“Carol Newman,” Liv replied, finally laying all the cards on the table. “She was a professional whistleblower looking for companies to torch. We believe that Ms Cobble was concerned about allegations of abuse becoming known, so she contacted Ms Newman about possible embezzlement in the home. But now, we think that she did that so that any allegations would get swallowed up by rumours of embezzlement. But she didn’t count on Carol getting so close to the truth, and that’s why she killed her.”

“Fucking hell,” Mr Bailey exclaimed, looking like he’d taken a prolonged beating. “I honestly thought we were giving these kids a good start in life…”

She watched the guilt turning over and over in his head. He was clearly looking back on all the situations and imagining how he might have done things differently.

“You can’t be too angry with yourself,” Archie offered, having concluded that his remorse was genuine. “The best thing any of us can do right now is to find Linelle and make she sure goes down for this. Nothing else matters.”

Mr Bailey nodded in weary defeat.

12

That day had been one of the most straining days in all her years in the service. She’d always known that there were people who’d gladly take advantage of others, and she knew all about child abusers, but there was something about seeing those bastards upright and centre that hammered home the depravity.

She needed to find herself a distraction for the evening. She’d given Nikki a spare key to the house while she went off to do her own stuff.

Normally, she could rely on Dean to lift her spirits. They’d shared a brief video call, so she knew he’d gotten there all right. She hadn’t mentioned any of the discoveries she’d made that day, as she didn’t want it to seep into his visit to his mother.

It wasn’t enough for her to look at his face. She needed him there in the room with her, holding her. But in the absence of Dean, she needed to find solace elsewhere.

Alex and Tara were still in the process of doing up the flat they were staying in. Even though it was a fairly small flat consisting of four rooms—a kitchen, bedroom, living room and a tiny bathroom—the two were already in the process of making it a proper home.

Tara was busy heating some pizzas up in the oven. “I hope you don’t mind,” she noted sheepishly. “I’m not exactly Gordon Ramsay, so I hope you don’t go in expecting a gourmet dinner.”

“Trust me, I went through a period in my life living on takeaways,” Liv chortled. “If I was in charge of the Last Supper, it probably would have been a chippy tea.”

“Hey, whatever works for you,” Tara responded as she pulled out all the pizzas.

“Flat looks really nice,” Liv commented, looking around the place.

“It’s feeling more and more like a home,” the young woman replied before going into the main living room where Alex was waiting.

Liv couldn’t help, but smile. Her brother had been lost to her for so many years, and even when she finally got him back, she never thought he would be where he was now, his mind intact, the trauma ebbing away day by day, in a steady job with his own home and sharing his life with a woman who loved him. It was the ending he deserved but that she never thought he’d get.

“Have Mum and Dad been round to visit lately?” Liv hadn’t seen much of her parents over the last few days, and the only time she saw her siblings was when she needed to decompress. I really need to make more time for my family.

“They’ve actually been good enough to give us some old furniture for the place,” Alex told her, pointing to an armchair that Liv recognised from her parents’ living room. “It saves us having to raid IKEA.”

There was a knock at the door, and Tara immediately sprang from her seat. “I’ll get it!” she chirped, ever the dutiful host. A few seconds later, Tara stepped back into the room with Mills in tow. She was wearing a large summer dress suited to her pregnant frame.

“You all right, Mills?” Liv asked, remembering how much pregnancy had taken out of her sister the first time round.

“Believe me, I’d much rather be getting out and about while I still can,” Mills offered with a small smile as she eased herself into a chair. “I’m expecting a lot of pampering to come my way.”

She patted her bulging belly, having since received the confirmation that it would be a girl. Liv knew that her nephew Ru was excited at having a little sister to play with and had already been starting to throw possible names around.

“Thought Ru was going to be coming with you?” Alex asked, looking for any sign of the squalling child.

“That was the plan,” Mills acknowledged wearily, “but Max had a cancellation at work at the last minute, so he wanted to take advantage of the chance to spend some proper time with his son. Couldn’t really deny him that.”

“Am I still on for the baby shower?” Liv asked, knowing that while Max tolerated Liv for his wife’s sake, he wasn’t too fond of her, dismissing her as a danger magnet that would only bring trouble their way. She couldn’t bring herself to disagree with him.

“Yes, you are,” Mills assured her.

As much as Liv loved her little nephew, she was grateful that he hadn’t turned up at the flat that night. Finding out the full extent of Melanie’s abuse, she couldn’t think of any child without thinking of the horrors that they’d endured.

Even now, as she tried to relax, there was a part of her that was determined to see Linelle Cobble pay, whatever that looked like…

Linelle Cobble wanted to scream in frustration at the complete dissolution of her life.

She’d been coming back from the shops when she saw the police officers hard at work outside her house. She wanted to tell herself she was there because of what had happened with Carol, but she knew why they were really there. That little brat must have said something to someone. Linelle chided herself for not coming down harder on the girl. She’d have thought the threats of violence would have been enough to cow her into submission.

There was even a small part of her that hoped the police wouldn’t take Melanie seriously. After all, she was just some waste of skin bouncing around the care system. Nobody wanted her, so why would they care so much about her?

It was hard to believe that one kid could cause so much trouble.

And then Carol Newman had got involved.

As she walked down the street, aware that there must be a warrant out for her arrest, she tried to think of her next move. The smartest thing to do would be to get the fuck out of Dodge. But she knew that they’d be watching her phone and any credit transactions she made, and she didn’t have enough money on her to just settle down anywhere.

She briefly considered going to the police, trying to think of a way to spin the situation to her advantage, perhaps painting herself as the victim. But considering the police were at her house, it was possible they’d discovered her personal keepsakes from their ‘games’.

She was gripped by intense terror, knowing exactly what kind of fate would await her in prison. Once people heard about what she’d done, she’d be begging to be put on the protection block permanently.

Whatever way she turned, she was trapped.

In the end, she dialled a number, thinking this was perhaps the only remaining person who could help her.

“What do you want?” the voice came through, taking her aback with how short they were. After all, she thought they were friends.

“Listen, the police know about that little Melanie bitch. They’re turning my house upside down. They’ve probably already spoken to the people at the care home.”

She finished unloading before waiting for a response.

Finally, the voice replied, “What are you looking for, a shoulder to cry on?”

“I need you to help me fix this.”

“I’m sorry, I missed the part where that’s my problem.”

“This is just as much your problem as it is mine!” she exclaimed loudly before looking around the street to see if anyone else heard her. “It was your idea to get Carol involved in the first place.”

“And it was your idea to start touching up that kid,” he refuted, leaving her wondering how much disgust he’d been sitting on for all that time.

“Don’t forget that I know all about you, too,” she tried, thinking that she could definitely get the advantage over the guy. “I’m sure the police would be very interested in what I’ve got to say.”

There was a pause as he considered this threat. “Okay, tell me where you are, and I’ll come and meet you. See if we can find a way to get you off the hook.”

She turned off the phone, feeling satisfied with herself. Maybe there was a way out from all of this.

She had no idea that with that phone call, she’d sealed her fate.

13

He made his way through the streets to see her, trying to think about how he’d approached the situation. He’d promised her his help after all.

In truth, Linelle Cobble represented everything he hated about people. She was one of life’s losers who had nothing to offer anyone, and her only joy was finding somebody she could exert a little bit of power over so that she felt better about herself.

The woman had only been a means to an end for him, a way of getting what he wanted. And he knew that there was no way she’d go to the police because whatever he was guilty of would be nothing compared to her own sins. He’d even related a story of a few sex offenders getting regular beatings in prison just so she didn’t forget what was at stake.

But now things had gone all tits up, and the stupid bitch had got herself incriminated. It was only a matter of time before the police got hold of her, and she’d drag him down with her.

So when she called him begging for help, it was practically a gift, and who was he to turn it down?

He arranged to meet her at an isolated area, somewhere where they wouldn’t be disturbed.

She looked completely dishevelled, but there wasn’t a hint of shame on her. He could see that the incident had done little to make her sit up and realise what she was doing was wrong or to think of the damage she’d inflicted on other people. He knew that if something wasn’t done now, she’d keep on doing it for years to come, finding kids to use and abuse, scarring them for life. So in a way, he was doing the world a favour. Sure, she’d been useful in getting Carol Newman down to Newquay, but now she had nothing more to offer.

Except one thing…

“I hope you have a bloody good idea for how to get me out of this,” she spat, even then unable to relinquish her sense of entitlement.

“The way I see it, with the crimes you’re accused of, the police will move heaven and earth to catch you,” he stated matter-of-factly. “And good luck finding anyone who will offer you safety. They won’t want anything to do with a child molester.”

He used the words specifically to see if they resonated with her and got her to demonstrate a semblance of remorse. But she offered no reaction whatsoever, and it was clear her only concern was that she’d been caught out.

“So what is your big plan, genius?” she asked impatiently.

“Well, firstly, we need to get the police off your back,” he explained, having rehearsed his words several times in his head. “And I’ve found that they will find you… unless they think you’re already dead.”

She listened carefully; she had no other choice.

“So here’s what I’m thinking… The police find your body, all broken and beaten, possibly stabbed to death, and then they call off the investigation,” he outlined.

“And how do you plan on faking that?” she asked, checking the time on her phone.

“Who said I was going to fake it?” he asked before he brought out the knife and plunged it into her gut.

She looked down dumbly at the blade sticking out of her and then looked up at him, the full horror of what was happening finally occurring to her.

He yanked the blade out of her and stabbed again, this time in the chest. He pulled the blade out and repeated the motion, over and over and over.

She held up her hands in defence only for the knife to impale her palm. She fell to the ground, and it was only then the begging began.

He thought about the service he was doing, seeing the fear in her eyes and how many times she must have inflicted that same fear on her charges.

Nikki wasn’t sure what she was doing and was 90% convinced it was going to backfire, but the alternative was sitting on Liv’s sofa twiddling her thumbs and waiting for the problem to go away. She had a small bag clutched in her arm.

She walked into the house she owned with Enzo and didn’t bother to knock.

Enzo was sat at the table grading papers from his students and looked up at her questioningly.

“I wasn’t expecting you to come around,” he stated, his work abandoned.

“Last time I checked, I still co-owned this house,” she retorted, refusing to be browbeaten.

“If you’ve got a point to make, then you can do it through my divorce lawyers,” he insisted, and it was clear he wasn’t looking to be reasonable.

“We still have a chance to work this out amicably,” she suggested, the last word sounding foreign on her lips. “There’s no need to drag it out through the courts.”

“This is about Francesca, isn’t it?” he asked, sizing up his wife as though she were something to be dissected. “You’re worried that you’re going to lose custody of Francesca.”

“She’s my daughter, Enzo. I have a right to see her,” she protested.

“But you barely do,” he replied, and she couldn’t bring herself to completely disagree with that one… even if he were trying to paint it in the worst possible light. “You’re always away working long hours on your job. You barely want to look at me, let alone touch me when you come back home. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a fancy man on the go.”

Nikki gulped. Over at the station, her on-off affair with Superintendent Collins was pretty much an open secret. She didn’t necessarily care what her colleagues thought of her most of the time, but she’d taken great pains to make sure Enzo didn’t find out. If he did, that would give him a huge advantage in the divorce case.

“We can squabble over finances, the house, whatever you want,” she demanded, finding her nerve. She looked at the man before her, now wondering what she’d ever seen in him to begin with.

“Mummy?” Both heads turned to see Francesca standing in the doorway wearing pink pyjamas and clutching a plushie rabbit.

Any steely resolve on Nikki’s part immediately disappeared at the sight of the little girl, and she knelt down to scoop her daughter up in her arms.

“Oh, sweetie, I’ve missed you so much.” she whispered, kissing Francesca on the cheek, and not wanting to let her go.

“Are you moving back in now?” the child asked hopefully.

Enzo immediately moved to say something. “Mummy is…”

“Mummy’s just doing some important work stuff,” Nikki replied, not wanting to get into the inner workings of divorce with a four-year-old. “But once I’ve got it all sorted, I’ll come back and spend time with you. Maybe at some point, you can come and see me…”

“That might be a bit difficult,” Enzo cut in, clearly having no interest in keeping up any pretence for his daughter’s sake. “You have all your books and your toys here.”

“Well,” Nikki interjected, not one to be outdone. “Mummy will make sure you have your own toys and books when you come. Okay, sweetie?”

The small girl nodded, not quite grasping what was happening but clearly picking up on the discontent.

“So, what have you been doing?” she asked, deciding she didn’t want to risk slipping up in front of Francesca.

“I’ve been playing with Mr Mopsy,” she replied, holding up the stuffed rabbit.

“I’m glad you mentioned that,” Nikki replied, reaching into her bag and pulling out a stuffed koala. “I saw this in the shop today, and it immediately made me think of you.”

Francesca’s eyes immediately lit up at the sight of the stuffed toy and she held it close to her chest. “Mummy, thank you so much!” Then she went to hug Nikki, sandwiching the toy between them.

“If you want, we can go upstairs and play with them, maybe even think of a name for him,” Nikki suggested and Francesca giggled at the suggestion, rushing out of the room.

“Giving her the occasional stuffed toy doesn’t renew your maternal rights,” Enzo said darkly from the table, but Nikki ignored him and followed her daughter upstairs.

14

The father kicked a football around the park, watching as his seven-year-old son chased after it. It’d been a regular routine of taking his boy to play around here while the summer holidays were going. An idyllic past-time.

The son happily kicked the football to his dad, who didn’t anticipate it in time and lashed out, sending the ball hurtling into one of the bushes, prompting the boy to run after it.

The dad felt a little hesitant watching his son disappear into the bushes. He hadn’t seen anyone else enter the park on his way in, but that didn’t stop him from feeling nervous.

He waited for his son to re-emerge, ball in hand, but there was no sign of him.

“Danny?” he called out, starting to get worried. He walked over to the bushes, hoping that his son would still be there. He moved through the brambles to see his son looking down at a bloodied woman on the ground, her eyes wide open.

“Oh, Christ,” he exclaimed, pulling his shellshocked son close to him. “Don’t look, Danny, don’t look.” He took out his phone and immediately dialled 999.

Liv drove along the pathway with Nikki in tow. It was still early in the morning, and since they’d left the house together, it made sense they would attend the latest crime scene together. By the time they got to the park, the forensic people were already on the scene.

“What have we got?” she asked Sam, who was clad in forensic gear.

“We’ve got a middle-aged female,” she replied, looking back at the sectioned-off area. “Found dead behind the bushes, multiple stab wounds. I tell you, it’s not pretty.”

“The scene or the victim?” Nikki asked sardonically.

“Both,” the forensic coordinator noted, though she didn’t seem to be too horrified, especially considering the potential identity of the victim.

They walked around to the bushes and took in the sight before them.

Linelle Cobble was lying on the ground with multiple stab wounds in her body. It looked like she hadn’t been so much as knifed as she had been torn open.

Nikki whistled loudly. “I guess there is such a thing as karma in the world.”

“DS Harding!” Liv admonished, though there was a large part of her that couldn’t bring herself to disagree. Nobody was going to shed any tears over a child molester.

“There’s a part of me that feels like we should be in a celebratory mood,” DS Harding added, clearly letting her feelings cloud her judgment.

Okay, now she’s just taking the piss. “DS Harding, can I have a word in private?” she asked, taking the sergeant to one side. “What the hell is all this about?”

“I’m having a hard time mustering any sympathies for that piece of filth down there, considering what she did to that girl. If that’d been my daughter, I’d have done the job myself.”

This was a dangerous way of thinking, and Liv was conscious of any members of the public listening into the conversation. “Believe me, I feel the same way as you do. My brother was a victim of grooming, but we don’t have the luxury of investigating the murders of the decent alone. We have to uphold the law to everyone, and the last thing we need is any of this getting back to the public. If somebody hears this, it’ll give people even more—”

“So you’re saying it’s all about the optics?” Nikki asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Pretty much, yes,” the inspector replied bluntly. “Believe me, I’m not shedding any tears over this woman, but we don’t need anybody getting wind of this.”

“Fair enough,” the sergeant replied, apparently conceding the point. God forbid I get to a point where I need to muzzle this woman.

With that matter resolved, they returned to look at the corpse, and Liv found herself agreeing with Nikki’s assessment, albeit silently. Rest in shit, you bitch.

“There isn’t as much blood here as one would expect,” Sam noted as she examined the blood that’d soaked into the dirt. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was moved.”

“I don’t suppose you have any way of telling where she was killed?” Liv asked, glancing down at the body.

“Well, there are bits of gravel attached to her sleeves, so I think it’s safe to assume it was likely an industrial site,” she muttered, before looking up at the inspector. “Sadly, I’m not a gravel expert, so I couldn’t say which one.”

She wondered who could have wanted the woman dead. Given her proclivities, it could be anyone from a former victim taking revenge to a vigilante taking the law into their own hands. Either way, it would be much easier to find somebody in Newquay who didn’t want the woman dead. And she had a feeling it was connected to Carol Newman’s death.

“So where do we stand on Carol’s murder?” Superintendent Collins asked once they were back in his office. “Did someone kill Linelle after she killed Carol, or were they both killed by the same person?”

“We’re still working it out, sir,” Liv replied, feeling the pressure for a result. “I’ve got Clara going through CCTV around the park, and I’ve got uniformed officers out looking for any eyewitnesses.”

“Well, I’m not expecting people to come forward quickly,” he muttered, clasping his fingers together. “Most people will be happy to see the likes of her gone. But me, personally, I don’t like the idea of somebody taking the law out of our hands. I’ve already had my higher-ups on the phone telling me that the public don’t want to be seen as doing the police’s job for them. And that’s an exact quote.”

“Of course,” she muttered with an air of disappointment. Because nothing said pressure like top brass breathing down her neck. As much as she toyed with the prospect of career progression, there were times when she wondered whether she should rise above the rank of Inspector. From what she’d heard, from that point onwards, it was an ongoing bout of bureaucracy that wouldn’t let up. I’d be expected to be less a police officer and more a politician. She shuddered at the very idea.

“I think we’ve got grounds to investigate the care home even further,” Liv suggested, knowing that everything in this case always came back to that building. “I'm hoping we shouldn't have too much trouble securing a warrant?”

“At the moment, my main priority is the welfare of those children,” Collins insisted, and Liv was relieved that unlike the rest of his superiors, he had his priorities in order. “I've been in touch with Dr Helen Pike, and she's agreed to come in and speak to Melanie and any other children who might have been victims of abuse.”

“Is there any way we can sit in on any of these sessions? Liv asked before jumping into an explanation. “I mean, the girl is technically helping us assist in an ongoing criminal—”

“Dr Pike had a feeling you’d be singing that tune, DI Austin, and she told me to pass on a message to you,” Collins replied with a firm expression. “Absolutely no way.”

“You’re kidding me!” Liv exclaimed, willing to fight her point. “We’ve already spoken to—”

“The girl will have endured a tirade of emotional and sexual abuse, and from what I understand, she barely volunteered any information of her own. Helen says that the questions have to be properly phrased to get certain responses. So, unless you can get four years of training in the next half-hour, you can’t be present.” Noticing his inspector’s visible disappointment, Collins assured her, “Look, you’ll still get the write-ups from the meeting and any information that could be relevant. I’m sure you’ll act on.”

Liv conceded the point, though she didn’t like it.

Having got everything she could out of the gaffer, she headed down to Clara’s tech station. “Clara, please tell me you’ve spun us gold,” she pleaded, needing something that would break the case open.

“What kind of things are you looking for?” she asked, her dreadlocks whipping around as she turned to face her visitor.

“Are there any specific names mentioned in Carol Newman’s report, any possible staff members?” she queried, almost hoping that the answer was no, if only because it would mean that Linelle Cobble had been the sole abuser.

“Nothing specific, but she did mention this a few times.” She pointed to highlighted initials—C.W. “And based on the wording of the report, that not a worker. That’s a resident.

Another possible victim who decided to get pay back?

15

Liv and Archie headed to the care home where Bob Bailey was standing outside, having awaited their arrival.

“Have you found Linelle?” he asked hopefully, and they suspected he would swing for her too if given the chance.

“Oh, we've found her, all right,” Liv explained darkly. “She was killed last night and her body dumped in a park.”

“Good,” Bob growled, folding his arms. Liv felt a pang of envy that he was able to express himself without facing any kind of blowback. “I’m still feeling fucked off with myself for not spotting it sooner.” He shook his head, and Liv could see his face line with regret.

“Mr Bailey, despite what has happened to Ms Cobble, we have been made aware of serious allegations of sexual abuse. And we’re still trying to find out if Linelle was acting alone or if somebody was helping her.” She looked at him pointedly.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve,” he exclaimed, his nostrils flaring. “I would never touch kids. I’ve got children of my own.”

“No one is saying that you were involved,” Liv assured him, though secretly, she didn’t think she could rule him out just yet. “But for all we know, Linelle could be just one of the employees engaging in abuse. And if that’s the case, then we need to take steps to safeguard the kids. We’re going to need to conduct interviews with staff and—”

“Every single one of those staff members was checked and vetted by me personally,” he replied stiffly, obviously feeling like his personal integrity was being questioned.

“Was Linelle one of those personal vets?” Archie asked with a raised eyebrow.

His gulp told them all they needed to know on that front.

Archie took out a photograph of the evidence Clara had shown earlier. “I don’t suppose you know anyone with the initials C.W., do you?”

Mr Bailey took the photo and examined it. “That could be Carl… Carl Wincott.” He looked at their expectant eyes, holding out for more. “He’s one of our long-time residents. He has been in care for much of his life, since he was a baby, I believe.”

Both officers felt sympathetic to the kid for coming into the world without anyone loving him. “What is Carl like?” Liv asked, though she didn’t think the question would have much merit, considering that people in this home developed duplicity as a tradecraft.

“He’s a good kid,” the manager explained, his tone becoming more protective. “He always looks out for the younger kids, and they look up to him. Sometimes, I think they felt a lot more willingness to listen to him rather than us. So, it’s lucky for us that he doesn’t give us any grief.” It was clear to all present that he had a fondness for the young man.

“Do you know if he spoke to Linelle much?” Liv asked, knowing that predators like Linelle would often go after the most emotionally vulnerable.

“Not that I saw. He spent a lot of his time with the younger kids. I think he was always worried about then and wanted to make sure that they could look after themselves. We even had talks about him possibly becoming another member of staff here.” Speaking about someone so young, Mr Bailey’s tone could be best described as hero worship.

“Can we speak to him?” Liv asked, and before Bob could offer up any protestations, she added, “His initials were mentioned in the whistleblower’s notes. Now, I think it’s a safe bet you don’t have anyone else around here with those initials. If he’s as good as you make him out to be then he’ll have no trouble helping us with our enquiry.”

Bob grunted in a tone that said, ‘I’ll play ball, but I don’t like it.’

The two sat in reception and waited, watching as children came running past playing games. It’s times like this I’m lucky to have had both parents in my life.

After twenty minutes, a young man approached them. He was roughly sixteen years old, a mop of dark-brown hair on his head, and an athletic build. He certainly knows how to take care of his body. He wore a long-sleeve shirt, navy jeans, and slip-on trainers.

“I’m Carl. You both wanted to see me?” he asked in a surprisingly deep voice. As Liv got up to shake his hand, she noticed how sunken his eyes looked, an expression he tried to cover with a wide smile.

“Carl Wincott?” she began, and once he nodded in confirmation, she stated, “I’m Detective Inspector Austin and this is Detective Sergeant Elmhurst. We were wondering if we could ask you a couple of questions.”

“Am I supposed to have done anything wrong?” he asked, his face darkening.

“No, but we wanted to ask you a few questions about one of the recent visitors to the care home,” Liv explained, taking out the photo of Carol Newman. “Did you see this woman at all?”

He took the photo and studied it. Although he tried to bluff his way out, the recognition was clear all over his face. “Yeah, she came here a few times, she said she wanted to ask me a few questions.”

“What kind of questions?” Liv asked, thinking back over the notes on the woman’s computer. C.W. had had a constant presence in the notes, so she assumed they would have had to speak to each other regularly to build up that rapport.

“She said she was here to do a piece on the care home, and rather than let the adults tell their story, she wanted to get a more direct perspective,” Carl told them, sitting in a chair next to them, knowing he was probably going to be there for some time.

“And how are you treated?” Archie asked, hoping they could find another student to correlate Melanie’s claims of abuse.

“Pretty well, all things considered,” Carl replied, offering a ghost of a smile. “Most grown-ups don’t see you as a person, more of a stat that can make them look better. But Bob is always giving me opportunities, encouraging me to excel. He’s getting work experience set up for me at a local garage as a mechanic so that when I do walk out of here, I’ll at least have some direction.”

“From what we’ve heard, you’re something of a hero to the younger kids,” the inspector noted, mixing in some of her own admiration.

“A lot of the kids are fairly harmless and can’t fight their way out of a paper bag,” Carl explained, his voice turning into a growl. “And there are plenty of vicious shits who will take advantage of that.”

“So, how often did you see this woman?” Liv asked, guessing based on the dates, she would have met with him personally at least eight times.

“Eight times, give or take,” he answered as a piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

“How would you describe your relationship with Linelle Cobble?” she asked, feeling they’d built up enough of a rapport to move onto some of the more provocative questions.

“I wouldn’t say we had a relationship,” he replied, more defensively than they had anticipated. “She struck me as one of those moody bitches who didn’t have much life outside of these walls and got a power kick while she was in here.”

“Carl…” Liv paused, trying to find the right turn of phrase. Despite everything her training had taught her, there was still no easy way to ask someone so young if they’d been violated. “We’re not sure if you heard, but before she died, Ms Cobble was being interrogated for allegations of sexual abuse against at least one girl.”

“The girl who spoke up,” he asked with pursed lips. “Is she going to be all right?”

“She’s safe,” Liv answered in a noncommittal manner. Though it’ll probably be a long time before she’s all right again. “We are trying to work out whether she was the only victim or whether there were others who might be involved in it.” She lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in close to him. “Carl… has any member of the staff ever abused you? If so, then don’t be afraid to speak up. We’re building a case, and we can protect you.”

“You mean like you protected Melanie?” he asked in an agitated voice, and she was taken aback by the silent fury. There was something inside him building, and she wondered what it might look like if he decided to turn all that anger on her. “Look, I can’t help you. And believe me, if I’d known what she was doing, I’d have stopped her myself. I did have an idea that the bitch was a bit touchy-feely with some of the younger girls, but I didn’t see anything beyond that.” Before she could ask him for full clarification, he suddenly bolted from his seat as though spring-loaded and left, leaving the detectives dumbfounded.

“That’s peculiar,” Archie noted as he watched the boy disappear down the corridor. “We didn’t volunteer Melanie’s name. So how would he know she was abused?”

16

It was an exhaustive day with Liv and Archie speaking to everybody at the care home, trying to work out which workers worked which rotas, who was more likely to come up with certain children, and if there were ever any incidents when they were alone with them.

But after four hours of questioning, there wasn’t anything to indicate that anyone other than Linelle Cobble had committed the abuse.

When they left later in the day, Liv assured Bob Bailey that they’d be back, but in truth, she didn’t know what she’d be coming back with. They had no further leads, and none of the young children were up for being questioned without an appropriate adult present. It was as though they were geared to remain silent under any questioning.

They made their way back to Newquay Station where Liv had one last appointment for the day. Dr Helen Pike, esteemed psychiatrist and Andrew Shaw’s current girlfriend, was stood in the reception area adopting a brusque manner that looked like it was on the verge of crumbling. She was getting a coffee from the machine… or trying to as her hands kept fumbling, splashing coffee onto the floor and her clothes. DS Elmhurst, ever the gentleman, rushed forward with a cloth, which she gratefully took.

“I’m guessing you have spoken with Melanie?” Liv asked, and whatever confidence Helen had conveyed in her message to Liv via Collins had sapped away much of her confidence. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to share your findings with us?”

“You certainly don’t waste any time, do you, DI Austin?” she replied, agitated. “I’ve just come out of a three-hour session with that girl, and now you want me to head back into that headspace before I’ve even had a chance to apply the brain bleach?”

Liv bowed her head, looking ashamed of the turmoil she was forcing the woman to endure. “Normally, I’d say ‘go home and sleep it off’,” she offered, though deep down she didn’t think it was possible to sleep off exposure to childhood sexual abuse, “but we’ve spoken with some of the residents and most of the workers, and so far, we’ve got nothing. No pattern, no conspirators, and no possible suspect for Linelle Cobble’s murder.”

“You’ll find my heart doesn’t really bleed for that last point,” Helen replied, and the inspector imagined that her session with Melanie had given her the biggest insight into the kind of person Linelle Cobble had been. “I kept on trying to tell Melanie that it wasn’t her fault, that what happened to her says more about Linelle than it’ll ever say about her, but how can I expect her to believe it when I don’t believe it myself? She might always carry those scars.”

Liv and Archie guided the psychiatrist into one of the spare rooms and sat her down, Archie in particular picking out a specific chair, figuring she probably wouldn’t want to sit in one previously occupied by a child molester.

“Here’s where we’re at, Helen,” Liv offered, clasping her hands together in a ‘all cards on the table’ gesture. “We have no way of knowing how she picked out her victims or what kind of MO she employed. Any information you can give us will go a long way towards finding a suspect. Please.” She hoped her plea would resonate.

“All right,” Helen replied, taking a large gulp of her coffee, which seemed to be the only thing keeping her active. “What do you want to know?”

“How did it start for Melanie?” Archie asked, taking the lead. “The abuse, I mean.”

“Originally, it didn’t start as abuse. In fact, I can’t think of many cases that do,” Helen reiterated, reflecting on Melanie’s numbing testimony. “She said that Linelle originally started taking an interest in her, doing her small favours. This would originally be small things like giving her some chocolate or buying her a top she liked from the town centre or a bit of extra pocket money to spend on whatever she wanted. The woman was grooming her.” The psychiatrist’s hands balled into fists as the last sentence ricocheted through Liv’s ears. “And she didn’t ask Melanie for anything… at first. She said that Melanie deserved it because she was a ‘good girl.’” At this, a collective shudder went through the room.

“What changed?” Archie asked, his voice going dry.

“She said that she wanted Melanie to do her a few favours in return. Said that she was always thinking about Melanie when she went home and asked Melanie if she could have a little…” She choked out the word. “...memento.”

Liv’s mind flashed to the box of photos found under the bed. It hadn’t occurred to her that Melanie might have been prompted to take the photos under duress.

“But Melanie was a little creeped out by this and said no. And Linelle apparently played it off like it was no big deal, but shortly afterwards, Melanie stopped getting extra pocket money or any special treatment.” They all knew it was a common tactic for groomers to get their victims completely dependent on them. “And then one day, someone had brought Melanie a sandwich and left it by her bed. But when Melanie bit into it… she found there was glass in it.”

Liv looked for the nearest waste bin, wondering how long she could go before she ended up being sick.

“And on the sandwich was a note saying, ‘there’ll be more where that came from,’ and if she wanted it to stop, she was to send a photo of herself to a private number. One a day at 8pm without fail. Melanie was scared of what could happen if she said no, so she did as she was told.”

The sick bitch actually got the girl to get her own hands dirty.

“At first, the pictures were merely suggestive, but the requests got more and more lewd, going to ‘reveal a shoulder,’ then…’” Helen broke off, obviously disturbed despite her experience sometimes dealing with such cases. “Please, don’t make me say any more.”

“Don’t worry,” Liv assured her hoarsely. “We get the picture.”

“Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Linelle to simply be observing Melanie. She wanted more than that, and this led to…” Helen refused to say anything more.

Despite her earlier admonishment to Nikki, it pissed Liv off no end that their job entailed protecting the rights of scum like Linelle Cobble.

“How long did this go on for?” Archie asked, having lost all colour in his face but determined to see this through to the end.

“About four months,” Helen gasped out, and they tried to put themselves in Melanie’s shoes, wondering how she must have felt enduring that hell from someone she was supposed to trust and feeling no respite from it.

“Eventually, Melanie fought back and said that she wasn’t interested anymore and to leave her alone, threatening to tell someone. But Linelle had turned it around saying that Melanie was the one who’d taken the images, and she could see to it that she was arrested for the production of underage images.”

“No court in their right mind would ever throw the book at a girl for making those images under duress,” Archie exclaimed angrily, wishing he’d been there to reassure Melanie personally.

“Well, try telling her that,” Helen retorted, feeling the girl’s pain intently. “And to top it off, one day, Linelle brought another girl into the bedroom, a ten-year-old. And they didn’t do anything, but Linelle had told her while looking at Melanie that she and Melanie had been ‘really good friends’ and she could be ‘really good friends with her too if Melanie ever fell out with her.’ The message was clear. Keep on submitting to me or I’ll turn my attention elsewhere.”

Liv felt tears in her eyes for the girl who’d felt like it was impossible to get it right and had willing subjected herself to even further torment to protect someone else.

“Then, when Carol Newman came to the home and started asking questions, Melanie took that as her chance to tell all after Carol assured her that someone would believe her. After Carol was found dead, Linelle came into Melanie’s room and slapped her around the house, telling her that she was not getting out of her situation and that she had no idea what she’d let herself in for.”

Though Liv knew she’d never be allowed to admit it, Linelle Cobble’s killer had probably saved the girl’s life along with the lives of several other children.

“Personally, whatever you want to do from here on in, Inspector, my biggest priority is going to be safeguarding that child and making sure she gets the support she should have received long ago.”

Just as the detectives were nodding their heads in agreement, there was a knock on the door and Tim Harris burst into the room. “Liv, Archie? You’re going to want to see this?”

17

“If it were our absolute goal, could we look any more unprofessional?” Collins demanded as he brought up an image on his computer screen and turned it around so that everyone else could see. It was a news article boasting the headline COPPERS CELEBRATE PAEDO MURDER!

“The article goes on to suggest that two senior members of Newquay Police were at best indifferent to the murder of a sex offender and at worst outright celebrating,” he continued, his voice calm, and they all knew it was a precursor for the rage that would follow.

“Well, I can imagine quite a few people will be celebrating,” Nikki chimed in, trying to put a humorous spin on the situation as usual. “It’s a common social law that when a pervert dies, everybody else holds a party—”

“It’s not bloody funny, DS Harding!” Collins shouted, taking her by surprise. Clearly, whatever leniency Nikki had hoped her affair with the superintendent would bring her was now non-existent. “I don’t care if it’s true. I care about how it looks to the public!”

Archie leaned forward to get a better look at the article. “The whole thing is clickbait, whipped up by a media motivated by scandal and looking for any excuse to tar the police service. I’m sure the whole thing will be forgotten by the next day.”

“Oh, really? Well, thank you, DS Elmhurst, that’s very comforting,” Collins replied mockingly. “Why don’t we start doing some victory laps? Because until this goes away the next day, I’ve got to deal with the titanic clusterfuck today! So I will ask you all, and no bullshit, how the fuck did this happen?”

Liv, Nikki, and Archie looked amongst each other, trying to offer a rational explanation. “With all due respect, sir, it was a private conversation, and the only people who were about were the forensic team,” Liv offered as something resembling an excuse.

“So, none of you saw any press hanging around?” Collins asked, knowing that on a bad day, journalists would be hanging around a crime scene like crows feasting on leftovers.

“We didn’t see anyone at all,” Liv insisted honestly. The only civilians who could have heard were the man and his son who’d found the body, and they were out of earshot when the exchange happened.

“They’ve managed to get the name of the victim, the place the body was found, and her work history. They’re framing it as a fucking witch hunt!” Collins exclaimed angrily. “For Christ’s sake, how are you expected to conduct an investigation with these bloody vultures hanging around? And let’s be honest, I know these journos. I’ve spent enough time fending them off. They’re more interested in your favourite seaside resort or ideal ice cream flavour. They don’t have the skill to connect all the dots and will run around with their dicks in their hands.”

None of the officers present thought they’d ever seen Collins so irate and profane. It would have been amusing were it not for the circumstances.

“And just when I think my blood pressure can’t take any more, I read this—'sources close to the investigation.’”

The whole room went quiet, knowing the next words that came out could spell the end of somebody’s career.

“So, I’ve been trying to get my head around all the ways they could have phrased that, and the only explanation that makes any kind of sense is that one of you lot must have told them.”

Now it was the detectives’ turn to shout irate protests and varying forms of refusal.

“Sir,” Nikki demanded, trying to sound deferential for all the good it might do her. “Why the hell would we go speaking to the police, personal opinion aside?”

“I’ll tell you why—extra pocket money,” he explained. “We know how to keep these bastards at arm's length and keep them away from all ongoing investigations. So, if someone was willing to part with confidential information pertaining to an ongoing criminal enquiry… well, a small fortune can be made.”

“Are you seriously accusing one of us?” Nikki asked, and Liv suspected that general decency was the only thing preventing her from leveraging their time together as proof of her integrity.

“DS Harding,” he growled in response, “you wouldn’t be the first officer who has earned a few extra quid tipping off the local paper. All coppers do it from time to time. And someone has clearly done it here. So, I’m going to ask you one more time: who told them?”

Liv couldn’t help but feel a little stung. She’d spent so much time building up an understanding and respect for Superintendent Collins, and now that had gone out the window at the first sign of an unauthorised comment on a story.

“So, did any of you tip off the journalists?” Collins repeated, his voice lowered. “I need you all to tell me the truth now. And believe me, if I find out it was one of you and you didn’t come forward when you had the chance… Well, then your days in Newquay Police will be numbered. I’ll personally make sure of that.”

Now it was Liv’s turn to speak up in defence of her team.

“Guv,” she began, talking evenly, “we’ve known each other for three years. Four in March, actually. All those years, we’ve worked together, and we both know I’m not above marching to the beat of my own drum, but do you honestly believe that I would jeopardise the integrity of an investigation into sexual abuse for a few extra quid I don’t even need? If you seriously think I or anyone here would part with our principles so easily, then clearly, we aren’t operating on the levels of mutual respect that I’d hoped.”

Now it was Collins’ turn to look aghast, but he wasn’t willing to back down just yet. “The leak came from somewhere in the team, I’m sure of it. So if you didn’t do it—and if you don’t know who did it—then I suggest that after that case is done with, you should make it a top priority to find out who is responsible before they jeopardise any further criminal investigations. I do not want to see witnesses or evidence getting their fifteen minutes of fame.”

He collapsed back in his chair, spent from the emotional effort, and closed his eyes, unable to face the world for the foreseeable future. “You can all go.”

They couldn’t get out of the office fast enough.

“Well, I’m definitely feeling supported by that vote of confidence,” Nikki muttered, casting a dirty look back in the super’s direction.

“I might be at risk of playing devil’s advocate, but he’s not wrong about a potential leak,” Archie noted, bringing the women down to earth. “Now, I know I didn’t tip off the press.” He gestured to Liv. “And I’m pretty sure you didn’t do it.” Finally, he looked at Nikki. “And I’m positive that we can trust you.”

“Wait a minute!” Liv protested. “You’ve been my partner for years! How do you trust her more than me?” It was a childish attitude, but she couldn’t help the words that came out of her mouth.

“I don’t believe it was Nikki because, let’s be honest, the woman has a questionable sense of self-control. If we ended up in the press every time Nikki… expressed herself, we’d probably have a daily column.”

“Oh, thanks!” Nikki huffed, folding her arms and looking put out.

“Do you not understand that this is precisely what the leak wants us to do?” Archie insisted, stepping into the role of peacekeeper. “If we get riled up arguing with each other, it means we take our eyes off the leak.”

“So, have we got any ideas who it could be?” Liv asked, trying to take a practical approach. She was frustrated with herself for getting drawn into the leak’s trap. She’d built strong working relationships with DS Elmhurst and DS Harding since meeting them, and all of that goodwill had almost been undone on account of some outside source lining their pocket.

“We will have plenty of time to work that out, but for now, I think we need to focus on finding Linelle Cobble’s killer,” Liv suggested, though the mission statement didn’t feel like justice. If anything, the woman had deserved to spend the rest of her life scorned by people in prison. But though her last moments had been filled with such horror, as far as Liv was concerned, she’d got off lightly.

18

Liv pored over all the paperwork that they’d gathered on Carol Newman, Linelle Cobble, and the care home. A part of her was tempted to throw it all up in the air in the hope that when it landed, everything would all make sense.

More than anything, she wished that Dean were here. He’d know exactly what to say and tell her which angles to pick up on.

But instead, she’d have to sort this out herself.

Though she was loathe to admit it, there was a part of her that was tempted to just leave the case unsolved. It wasn’t like Linelle deserved any justice. The woman could rot in hell for all Olivia cared. But she knew that she probably wouldn’t be able to look back on this day without thinking she could have done more.

She knew that Carol had been the catalyst for everything that’d happened, but she felt like there was something she was missing that she couldn’t put her finger on. And it would probably kill her when she worked it out.

She poured over Carol’s entire backstory before realising there was one angle she hadn’t tried. She sent an email and a Zoom link and waited for a response. The reply came through thirteen minutes later.

Liv could barely contain her excitement. Why didn’t I think of this before?

She waited for the Zoom link to load up, and a bald man in his early forties stared back at her. He tried to put on a good smile for appearance’s sake, but it still looked like he was missing something.

“Mr Newman?” Liv asked, addressing Carol’s former husband.

“Yes?” he asked, rubbing his eyes, looking like he was ready to start nodding off.

“My name is DI Austin. I take it you’ve heard the news about your ex-wife?” she asked,

“Yes, I have,” he replied with a shrug. Liv’d seen a lot of grieving spouses in her time and had expected more of a reaction, even if they had been separated for years. “I’d be lying if I told you it came as a shock. They say that she fell off a cliff, but I knew she’d been killed.”

“And how did you work that one out?”

“Because of the life she led,” he replied. “I always knew it was going to catch up with her eventually… and clearly it did. I suppose the fact that she went out doing what she did best should count for something.”

Even though it wasn’t out of the rulebook, Liv felt a desire to elevate Mr Newman’s opinion of his wife. “Mr Newman,” she began, speaking gently. “I don’t know what happened between you and your wife, and it’s probably not any of my business, but I thought you should know that your wife was a hero to the very end. She often investigated dangerous people at great personal risk to herself. And even now, the evidence she has gathered has allowed us to crack down on child abuse.”

She hoped that the impassioned words would be enough for the man, but it was as if they’d bounced off him.

“I’m sorry, am I supposed to be impressed?” he demanded, leaning directly into the camera, and Liv knew she’d have to choose her next words carefully lest she prompt him to hang up on her. “I know that everyone is going to be praising my wife as a saint to the stars, and you know what, maybe she was. Maybe she deserves all the praise she’s going to be getting. But nobody’s going to bother with what she gave up for her fame.”

“And what exactly did she give up?” Liv asked, checking around the office to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed.

“Me and her kids,” Mr Newman replied, rubbing his eyes, all the memories of heartache flooding back to him. “I mean, yes, she was a good investigator, but she was a shitty wife and an even shittier mother. She felt that she needed to be this all-knowing whistleblower, always making the right moves, taking down the big heads. And I won’t deny, the first time she did it, I was proud of her. She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. So I was pleased for her.

“But the notability… It was like a drug to her. You know how quickly the news cycle turns. One day, she’s the talk of the town, people wanting to do talk shows with her… but then the next, they’ve moved on to the next big thing. She was determined to find something else to pour her energy into, and maybe she did think she was doing the right thing, but I think a huge part of her was doing it for herself. She thought nothing about outright abandoning her own family just so that she could go and play the hero over and over. It’s a lot easier to put yourself out there when you don’t have to think about your kids.”

She could sense he’d held onto this bitterness for years, and he probably wasn’t going to let it go any time soon.

“You know, in the years since she left the house, she never once came home? Once she walked out of this house, she never looked back. There were no visits, no phone calls, no texts, nothing? Our eldest daughter’s graduation ceremony was earlier this month, and when I asked her if it was worth inviting her mum, if only for her sake, she just shrugged. She has had no presence in their lives. You know how hard it was to bring up two kids alone? There were times when I thought I was going to fuck those kids up all by myself.”

Liv wanted to assure him that Carol still held her family in a special place in her heart, and even though she’d cut off contact, she hadn’t stopped thinking about them. But she knew it was pointless. The man had experienced far too much hurt and abandonment to see his wife as anything less than a deserter who’d left her family to fend for themselves.

“You know, I could have forgiven a lot of things she did,” he muttered, looking away from the camera in deep reflective mode. “I could have dealt with her needing to do this… I could have dealt with her wanting to play the superhero, all of those things… but giving away our child without even talking to me about it.”

Liv sat upright, taken aback by the new information. “What… child?” From what she remembered, there were two kids on the screensaver.

“Shortly after she had her first major bout of success, she went away for a few months, said she needed to do some travelling. I didn’t realise at the time, but she was looking up big case number two, the thing that would keep her name in the papers. She came home nine months later looking completely out of it, and I assumed that this was down to some kind of emotional trauma. But then I heard her having all of these phone calls, asking if something had got there all right, and if they could give him a good home.”

Please tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going.

“I later found out that she’d been pregnant when she went away on the trip, leaving before she really started showing. I asked her why she hadn’t told me she was pregnant and where the baby was… and she told me that she’d given him up. That it wouldn’t be fair on any of us to have another child with her ‘career’ taking off. But she never even consulted with me, never asked me whether I might have wanted a younger son. Instead, she took me out of the equation and gave him away. I have no idea where he is. I’ve tried tracking him down and had no luck. And Carol wasn’t exactly forthcoming. She refused to tell me anything, saying it was for the best. That was the problem with Carol. She always thought she knew what was best for people, regardless of whether they agreed with her or not. So you might celebrate her, you might treat her as God’s gift, but I’ll never see her as anything less than the bitch that stole my son from me.”

He looked away from the camera to rub his eyes, sixteen years of resentment pouring out of him. But Liv wasn’t paying much attention to the tears. She was taken in by another detail. Could it be…

“Did she ever tell you the child’s name?” Liv asked, trying to maintain a level poker face.

“Not to me directly, but I heard her talking about it with people on the phone. Apparently, she called him Carl, after my granddad. Like that was any comfort.”

Liv’s eyes went wide as she digested this information.

Thankfully for Liv, Mr Newman didn’t seem so forthcoming anymore, looking emotionally spent from dredging up old wounds. “Thank you very much for your time, Mr Newman,” she offered sincerely before quickly ending the Zoom call. So many questions had been thrown up, and she knew she needed to speak to Carl again…

19

Carl Wincott no memory of his mother. She’d left him as a newborn infant, abandoned to the social services system.

After that, he’d spent a lifetime of being shunted from care home to care home, foster family to foster family, no one really invested in him as a person, just seeing him as a statistic that everyone else needed to worry about. He’d got used to the barrage of non-existent names they’d assigned him like ‘boy’ or ‘child,’ or the common ‘you’. There were times when Carl had wondered what he’d done to deserve that kind of life. Surely, someone must have wanted him.

But the only value foster families had seen in him was the extra money they’d be receiving from social services. He actually found he preferred it in the care home.

So, he’d spent a lot of time lashing out, doing things like petty crime and assault. If people were only ever going to see him as a bad kid, then what was the point in him trying to be anything else?

But that had changed when Bob Bailey had taken him under his wing. At first, Bob had seemed like the kind of adult who be patronising and give him a half-arsed lecture about what life held for him. But instead, Bob hadn’t made any attempt to change the young man. He simply give him avenues to better himself, such as working with cars and engineering, a career that Carl could easily feel himself growing into and enjoying. For the first time in a long while, Carl could feel like there was a life stretched out for him.

But he found himself growing into another role unexpectedly. As Bob continued looking out for him and giving him support, Carl felt a pressing need to do the same for the younger kids in the care home. Like him, most of them didn’t have anyone looking out for them, and he wanted to be able to protect them. Unlike him, they would be defenceless.

So, he protected them from school bullying and helped them with their homework, but most of the time, he was giving them a friend. He actually found he enjoyed the back and forth, realising he needed them as much as they needed him. He imagined that this would be what it felt like to have brothers.

That had all changed when Linelle Cobble had arrived at the care home, and immediately, he knew there was something he didn’t like about her. There was a smarminess and bloated sense of superiority, the way she acted as if everyone should obey her. Carl had figured she was just another authority obsessed figure, and that would have been better than the truth.

He’d not actually seen any of the younger kids being abused, but he could pick up on the signs—the haunted expressions that lined their faces, the way they withdrew from any kind of physical contact. But he didn’t have any proof of this and so was powerless to do anything. And Mrs Cobble had already demonstrated considerable influence over the care home. Even Bob Bailey had seemed taken in by her.

It was during this time that Carl had been researching his own heritage, finding his birth parents. Bob had also been making the enquiries for him, though Carl had sworn him to secrecy, not wanting anyone else to know.

And then he found out who his mother was: Carol Newman, a woman acclaimed for her exposure of corrupt enterprises. And though there was the inevitable pang of resentment for her having given him up, he felt a surge of admiration when he read about all of her exploits, and he started considering ways in which he could get close to her.

While also dealing with Mrs Cobble, he decided to kill two birds with one stone. He made out he was unhappy with the system and suggested the prospect of getting some of the managers convicted for false embezzlement claims. He knew that deep down, this idea would appeal to her, no matter how ridiculous. She would have relished the opportunity to have more control over the place and more opportunities to use and abuse the children in her care. He successfully sold the image of them as two vicious peas in a pod. At the very least, it took her attention away from some of her targets… a lot of the time.

But there were some moments where he’d had to draw a line. On one occasion, she’d asked him to install a camera in the girl’s showers, and though he’d made the pains of installing it, he angled it in a way so that the camera would be permanently damaged by the splashback, rendering it useless. Linelle didn’t suspect a thing, so sure that she had him under her thumb. It was surprising how easily she could be manipulated when she thought she was in control.

When Carol had arrived at the home to start her investigations, Carl had to fight to keep his cool, while she was unaware and treated him as just another kid. That hadn’t stopped him from following her around, meticulously taking in every detail, and he could see how the younger kids might look to her as a person of trust. He could see where he got that protective instinct. Like mother, like son.

When he felt that Mrs Cobble wasn’t watching them, one night, he unloaded everything on Carol, telling her about the suspected abuse… and that he was her son.

It wasn’t until the words had left his mouth that he realised how terrified he’d been of her rejection, that she might turn around and decide to hightail it out of there rather than be reunited with the child she’d given up for adoption. He’d been blunted to the feeling of rejection over the years, but that night had brought all those feelings back to the forefront.

To his surprise, she’d embraced him and told him she was sorry for abandoning him, suggesting that maybe when all this was over, she’d have the chance to get to know him better, something he’d gladly take advantage of.

But he never got the chance.

A few days after they’d had the talk and Carol felt that she’d got enough from the girls to start putting together a report, she’d died, pushed off a cliff. Everyone assumed it was a tragic accident, but Carl had known that it was because of Linelle. She’d been the one responsible.

And he couldn’t even grieve his mother properly without letting Mrs Cobble know that he knew all about her. He was left with the crushing realisation that his mum was dead, and he was responsible for it. If he hadn’t got Linelle to invite her to the home, lured her into one of her investigations, she might still be alive. In one fell swoop, he’d crushed the one thing he didn’t even know he wanted.

After that news had come through, something inside Carl had snapped. Everything he’d been, everything he’d waned to be, was all gone now. And the life that he had laid out for himself, he wasn’t sure he even wanted anymore.

And all of it was because of Linelle Cobble.

So, he’d suggested to Melanie that the best way for her to leave the abuse behind altogether was to run away and get herself arrested. He knew that that would bring the police into the situation, something that he should have done from the beginning. But Linelle had realised that the police were onto her and had absconded.

Carl was determined not to let her get away, so still playing the part of the bastard supporter, he called her and arranged a meeting to help her out. And it was there that he took out the knife and killed her.

Every single stab seemed to yield a different reason for killing her. One stab could be for her abuse of her charges, kids that he’d come to consider his friends, if not brothers. One stab could be for making him pretend to be someone he wasn’t. One stab could be for being a pisspoor excuse for a human being. But most of the stabs were reserved for robbing Carl of his mother and any chance to get his family back. Even after she was dead, he’d kept on stabbing her.

Afterwards, a numbness had overtaken Carl, and he’d gone through the motions, speaking with Bob, the kids, the police. But there was nothing for him afterwards. He was sixteen, but he felt like he was in the epilogue of his life.

There was just one more thing he needed to do; a last bit of business that he could resolve for the sake of the kids who’d been the only family he’d had.

And afterwards, he’d taken the blade that’d slayed his mother’s killer and turned it on himself. It wasn’t the ending he’d envisioned for himself, but he felt it was the only option he had. All he felt right now was the crushing feeling that he should never have been born. That his mum would have been better to abort him.

But at least he could put a few things right before he died.

20

Liv had just finished the Zoom call with Carol Newman’s ex-husband when Clara burst into the room, shattering the tranquillity. “Liv, sorry to bother you,” the young technician blurted out, and rather than wait for Liv to respond, she grabbed Liv by the hand and dragged her from her seat like a child pulling their parents along on a day trip.

“What is it, Clara?” Liv exclaimed, letting herself be pulled along, still reeling from everything she’d learned from the call.

“I’ve been looking over the CCTV,” Clara told her as they made their way towards her workstation. Once the initial shock had worn off, Liv pulled her hand out of Clara’s grasp and walked on her own, unsupported.

They came into the workstation where Clara had several screens up. She inserted herself into the chair and gestured to a paused image.

“Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t find the site where Linelle Cobble was killed,” she offered before unpausing the image. “So instead, I decided to focus on some streets near the park where she was found.

She played the feedback, and Liv recognised the street. It would only be a five-minute walk to the park, if that. There was a car parked next to the road, number plates clearly visible.

“Now, before you ask, yes, I did run a check on the number plates just to be sure.” She clicked on a tab, and it showed a driver’s license belonging to Bob Bailey.

“Bailey?” Liv exclaimed, having pictured him as many things but definitely not a murderer.

“No, it isn’t. It’s just his car,” Clara explained, letting the video play, and it showed a figure getting out of the car and pulling a black bag that looked suspiciously long out with him.

“Shit,” Liv muttered, realising who it was. “It’s Carl…”

“Who?” Clara asked, having been oblivious to all the drama on the call.

“Never mind. Well done, Clara,” she offered hurriedly before rushing out. She dialled Archie’s number as she rushed down the corridor. “Archie, is Helen Pike still here?”

“She’s just finishing up another session with Melanie, why?” Archie asked.

“I need you to get her to come with us right now. I know who killed Linelle Cobble. It was Carl Wincott. And he killed her because she killed Carol Newman—who was his mother.”

“Excuse me?” Archie asked, unprepared for the revelations that were flying left, right, and centre.

“She gave him up for adoption when he was a baby. They must have seen each other when she was investigating the place.”

“Should we be worried?” Archie asked, as there was the sound of rummaging in the background, clearly Helen gathering her things together to come along for the impromptu interrogation.

“You saw what he did to that woman,” Liv offered, which wasn’t much of an answer. “We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else.”

Archie and Helen met her in reception, Helen looking like she was grateful to be out of the room being populated with childhood horrors.

“Right, we need to head to the care home, now.”

Bob Bailey had been getting ready to leave work when he’d received the knock on the door. He was exhausted by the last few days. Not only had one of his most trusted staff members been revealed to be a serial abuser and killer, but the entire home and all of his life’s work was now under scrutiny. It was like everything he’d worked for had been for a waste.

The only silver lining to come out of all of it was Carl. The lad had not had the best start in life, but Bob was proud of the man he was shaping up to be, and he was hopeful that when all this was over, Carl would go on to have his own life, maybe even carry on some of Bob’s good work.

He went into his office to collect his car keys from the drawer he always deposited them in… only to find that they weren’t there.

Suddenly, the door closed behind him, and Bob nearly jumped out of his skin, only to immediately relax when he saw it was Carl.

“Jesus, kid, you trying to give me a heart attack?” he muttered with a smile.

“You know, I keep forgetting about Mrs Cobble,” the youth stated in a dry monotone voice, a tone that Bob realised he hadn’t used for years since they’d first met and established those building blocks of trust. “I mean, a woman like that, there’s no way she could have got away with it for so long, what she was doing to all those kids… Someone must have seen something. Unless they were in on it.”

“Carl, I swear to you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Bob replied, unsure what the point of all this was… And then he saw the knife stained with blood.

At that point, his phone started vibrating in his pocket.

Liv called the phone several times, her gut tightening every single time it went to voicemail.

“What do you think is happening?” Archie asked, but Liv brushed it off. She didn’t want to give into speculating.

They pulled up outside the care home and rushed inside. “Do you think we should have taken firearms?” Archie whispered to Liv.

“Absolutely not,” Helen retorted as they stepped along the corridor. “We’re talking about a troubled kid, not a master criminal.”

Tell that to Linelle Cobble.

They heard the sound of shouting in the distance, and Liv recognised it as coming from Bob Bailey’s office. They made it there to find him pressed face-down against his desk, Carl holding a knife to his throat.

“Carl… put the knife down,” Liv pleaded evenly, gesturing for Helen to step into the office space, knowing she’d probably have a better job at getting the young man to see reason.

“He must have seen that those kids were being hurt!” Carl screamed, pressing the knife into Bob’s throat, who was trying to remain still through it all. “How could he not?”

“Linelle was very good at pulling the wool over people’s eyes,” Liv assured him.

“Carl,” Helen started, stepping forward, having been fully updated on the situation on the drive over. “I know that things have been difficult for you, and I know you’ve spent your whole life being let down by people. You don’t know who to trust… but you’ve got that person kneeling in front of you. He’s a good man and a good father. He’s only ever tried to do right by you.”

“That’s right, Carl,” Bob offered, wanting to reason with the lad he’d taken under his wing, regardless of the cost to himself. “Whatever you do, don’t hurt him,” Bob pleaded with the inspectors.

Carl stepped away and held the blade handle to his temple. They didn’t see a psychopathic killer but a scared boy who’d been moulded by life into something he didn’t even recognise.

A single tear rolling down his cheek, he plunged the blade into his own chest.

“No!” Liv screamed as she rushed forward, grabbing him before he fell to the ground.

All four adults crowded around him, trying to see what they could do to stop the bleeding. Archie took out his phone and dialled an ambulance.

Liv kept pressure around the wound. “Listen to me, kid, you are not going to die. Do you hear me?”

But Carl’s only response was a gurgle, and she could see the light starting to leave his eyes. But she was not going to give up that easily. Too many lives had been destroyed. She was not going to see his name added to the list.

Working together, the four adults managed to stabilise the boy until the ambulance arrived, and Liv could only hope that they’d been successful. Please, give me something positive I can take from all of this.

EPILOGUE

Carl Wincott had been rushed to hospital where he’d been stabilised. Due to the severity of his injuries, he’d been kept in a coma. They weren’t sure when he’d come out of it or what kind of future he’d face, but Helen had stressed repeatedly that the boy needed help, having been put in an impossible position where he’d tried to take on his mother’s work of protecting people without even knowing it. Mr Newman had been notified of the circumstances and was in the process of travelling to Newquay to be by his son’s bedside.

A widespread investigation into the care home had been launched, and it’d been discovered that there were at least three more staff members who’d been complicit in the sexual abuse of some of the residents.

Bob Bailey had resigned from the home, blaming himself for having a culture of abuse that had festered under his leadership. Liv felt for him more than anything, as she’d seen despite her initial suspicions, he was a good man who’d only wanted to give those children a decent start in life. And she knew that the events of the last week would haunt him for the rest of his days.

Ironically, being dead hadn’t stopped Carol Newman from being the talk of the town, her story being circulated around the media that was less obituary and more sensationalistic. Liv had even heard whispers of a true-crime documentary based around her exploits being in the works.

When Dean arrived home later that week, she hadn’t told him the full details of what’d happened. Just living it had been hard enough. She simply wanted to take comfort from being back in his arms again. Finally, the tears started falling.

“Christ, Liv,” he muttered. “I go away for a couple of days, and everything falls apart.” He meant the comment in good humour, feeling that what she needed right now was a bit of lately. He sniffed at the air around the sofa. “I’m pretty sure that’s not your perfume.”

Ah. She hadn’t got round to telling him that Nikki Harding had been kipping on their sofa for the last few nights. From what she’d heard, the DS was now renting a flat until things could move forward with her divorce.

Collins had offered an extensive apology to the team for his outburst earlier in the week, stating that he should have known that none of them would actively jeopardise an investigation. They’d all graciously accepted, feeling there was no point in holding grudges.

But that still left the question of who the leak was.

Liv went over all the suspects in her head… no. They weren’t suspects. They were her closest friends.

And she was increasingly conscious of what damage they could do if they were left undetected. Would they have to get to a point of policing the police? How could they possibly run investigations without worrying about outside interference?

PC Katie Gibson sat in the bar enjoying her lemonade. She was worried that she’d be placed too far away from the action to really get anything, but the murder of Linelle Cobble had provided an ample opportunity, as uniformed officers had been required to cordon off the area and seek out eyewitnesses.

And she’d been lucky enough to overhear the conversation between DI Austin and DS Harding.

It wasn’t exactly celebrating the murder of a molester—everybody coped in their own way. But to have the police outright doing it? That was the kind of thing that would bring in news stories.

She was sitting alone for fifteen minutes before she was joined by another person, a thin man with close-cropped hair and a black beard with flecks of grey, wearing a cream-coloured blazer.

“Well, I’ve got to say, you really know how to run with a good story,” the man stated, smiling proudly at his protege.

“Well, I like to think I have my ways with people,” Katie replied, enjoying the praise while it was still coming.

“But we need to talk about next steps,” the man explained. “I’ve got to take something to people that they can use. Because that story, as good as it was, is useless to us now.”

“You’ve got to give me a bit of time,” Katie protested. Her editor had always been very strenuous when it came to deadlines, and though she appreciated the urgency, it was like he expected her to pull a story out of her arse.

“At the moment, the public are invested in the idea of an inside look at the police and all the things that are wrong with it,” the editor explained, presumably having spent the last hour rehearsing his sales pitch to her. “This could be the making of your career, but you need to remember that getting there first is everything.”

“I work in a competitive environment,” she retorted, downing her lemonade and wishing she had something stronger. “I don’t really think you need to school me on the importance of getting there first.”

“Most publications are going to be chomping at the bit to get their own spin out there,” the editor insisted, blocking out the reasoning that didn’t align with his vision.

“Most publications don’t have a reporter on the inside,” she retorted, proud of her position. Why shouldn’t she be, considering the hoops she had to jump through to get it, to find a way to blend in with everyone else?

“What about that PC you are sometimes working with? PC Shaw? From what I hear, he can be a bit of a mouth. Maybe you can squeeze him for all he’s worth.”

“Maybe I will,” she replied with the first hint of uncertainty. Andrew had shown himself to be a decent bloke, far more so than any of the other men she had in her life. And she would have to think hard before she threw him under the bus.

“We’re in a great position to be showing the police at their most incompetent,” the editor smiled smarmily. “You push from the inside; I’ll push from the outside. And remember the golden rule… If you can’t find a decent story worth following, just make one up.”

THE END

TO BE CONTINUED…

Find out more in Book Thirty-Nine here: Town Under Siege - Book 39

Looking for Book Thirty-Nine? Don’t worry, it’s here!

Town Under Siege - DI Austin Book Thirty-Nine

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Sins Evoked - DS Leah West Book One

Missed Book One? Don’t worry, it’s here!

Find the Girl - DI Austin Book One

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I’ve always had a passion for writing stories and loved being able to create a world and have my characters live inside it. Being able to do this has been a dream come true and I’m so grateful that you could join me on this journey .

I live in the United Kingdom with my Husband and four young children who keep me busy and who I wouldn’t ever be without.

I hope you enjoy reading my books and please feel free to join me on social media where I love to interact with my readers!

mrsrobertswrites@hotmail.com