Flesh and Blood (A DI Amy Winter Thriller) by Caroline Mitchell (best love novels of all time .TXT) 📗

had underestimated Susi. It seemed she wasn’t as harmless as she portrayed herself to be. The recordings were her insurance and now she was ready to play ball.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Amy had been the subject of much back-patting after her interview with Susi. She had laid the groundwork for the Professional Standards Department to tease out enough information for Bickerstaff to be charged. Now the ground had crumbled beneath him, PSD were confident he would plead guilty, perhaps even name the people who helped him commit his heinous crimes. April had been treated in hospital. Her fractured nose would heal quicker than her internal scars but at least she was reunited with her mother now. Donovan had personally overseen the reunion and said many tears had been shed. The rest of the group were in the hands of social care.

Amy did not have far to go to update the wife of Chesney, victim number one. Sharon was still in Clacton, ringing her team for regular updates on the case. Amy rapped her knuckles against her hotel room door. She was in for a hell of an update now.

Sharon rubbed her eyes as she answered. Her skin was blotchy, her tracksuit stretched to its limits over her chest. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, with some surprise, smoothing back her hair.

‘I’ve got an update,’ Amy said, as the woman stepped back to allow her inside.

Blinking, Amy removed her sunglasses, adjusting her vision to the gloomy hotel room. The curtains were half-closed, the chill of the air conditioner raising goose bumps on her skin. A rerun of EastEnders blared from the flat-screen TV on the wall.

‘Mind if I turn this down?’ Amy scouted the room for the TV remote, finding it under a mascara-stained pillow. It was a relief to silence the particularly vocal argument taking place as the on-screen landlady shouted at someone to ‘Get outta my pub!’

Sharon dragged her feet, grabbing a wad of tissues from a box next to her bed. ‘Sorry about the mess,’ she said, before blowing her nose. The hotel room was functional, with a bed, table and TV. But the table was taken up with empty takeaway boxes, dirty clothes and magazines. Sharon cleared a space on the bed. ‘I thought if I hung around . . . I thought . . .’ She plopped down on the mattress, heaving a weary sigh. ‘I don’t know what I thought. Why are you here, anyway?’ She spoke with no malice, just curiosity.

‘I’ve got an update on the case,’ Amy repeated, unsure if she had heard her the first time around. ‘We’ve made an arrest.’

The mention of this news brought Sharon’s head sharply up. ‘You have? Who?’

‘I can’t say, but it’s in connection with a child sex ring operating in the UK.’ Amy paused as she delivered the bombshell. ‘It’s possible Chesney was paying for sex with one of the girls.’

‘Right.’ Sharon cleared her throat, the colour draining from her face. The bed wobbled as she got off it, her bare feet thumping against the carpet as she ran to the en-suite and slammed the door. Violent retching followed, in between gasps for breath.

‘You OK in there?’ Amy picked up her phone from where it had fallen on to the floor. Sharon’s home screen featured a picture of her children, their ice cream-stained faces wearing broad grins. Now they would grow up without a father. The devastation was hitting so many young lives.

‘Just a sec,’ Sharon called from behind the door. This was followed by the flush of the toilet and the taps being turned on.

Amy waited as she cleaned herself up, providing snippets of information on the case.

‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ Sharon turned off the air-con as she rejoined Amy. ‘At least now I can go home.’

‘Sorry, no,’ Amy said. ‘The man we arrested didn’t kill Chesney. He was facilitating him.’ Amy watched Sharon stall. It was obvious this had taken a lot out of her. ‘New evidence has just come in. Tina, one of the girls being trafficked, is responsible for the men’s deaths.’

‘Oh . . .’ Sharon stared, her expression vacant. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘It’s tragic,’ Amy replied. ‘She was protecting the group. Which is why she fought back.’

‘Surely that can be taken into account?’ Sharon asked. ‘I mean, they’ve been through so much.’

‘Maybe, if the crimes weren’t premeditated. But it looks like she’ll be going to prison for a long time.’

Another tear trickled down Sharon’s face. But this time Amy knew it wasn’t for her husband, but his victims.

‘She was abused by her uncle when she was just thirteen,’ Amy continued. ‘She felt worthless. Suicidal. Then she got in with a group of people who made her feel that she belonged.’ Amy had obtained a full intelligence run-up. Her sympathies went to the girl whose life had fallen into a spiral of drugs and abuse. ‘They made her feel important for the first time in her life. But by the time she was sixteen, she was working on the streets.’

Sharon twisted the damp tissue between her fingers, punctuating Amy’s words with a sniff.

‘She was damaged,’ Amy continued. ‘Psychologically and physically. I don’t know how she found the strength to carry on.’ She glanced at Sharon. ‘But she did, and she made a life for herself. She thought she’d put it behind her.’

‘Until something happened to bring it all flooding back.’ Sharon’s words were barely a whisper as a sob caught in the back of her throat.

Amy nodded. ‘The person she married represented every man who had hurt her in the past. But she didn’t stop there. She downloaded an app and posed as a punter to keep track of other men like him.’

‘And then she killed them,’ Sharon continued. ‘Because it was all they deserved.’

‘She could have called the police,’ Amy said. ‘She had a choice.’

‘But she knew they’d get off, just like the ones who hurt her before.’ Sharon turned to Amy as an understanding passed between them. ‘We’re not talking about Tina, are we?’

‘No,’ Amy