Behind the Walls: A British Crime Thriller (A DCI Pilgrim Thriller Book 4) Read online

  BEHIND THE WALLS

  A DCI PILGRIM CRIME THRILLER

  BOOK 4

  By

  A L Fraine

  The book is Copyright © to Andrew Dobell, Creative Edge Studios Ltd, 2019.

  No part of this book may be reproduced without prior permission of the copyright holder.

  All locations, events, and characters within this book are either fictitious, or have been fictionalised for the purposes of this book.

  Book List

  www.alfraineauthor.co.uk/books

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my wife Louise for her tireless support, my kids for being amazing, and my family for believing in me.

  Thank you to my amazing editor Crystal Wren for her critical eye and suggestions, they’re always on point.

  Thank you to my fellow authors for their continued inspiration.

  And finally, thank you to you, the readers, for reading my crazy stories.

  Table of Contents

  Book List

  Acknowledgements

  Table of Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  Author Note

  1

  Bringing her trusty little hatchback to a stop on the residential street, Helen pulled the handbrake on. Closing her eyes, she killed the engine and took a long breath as she prepared herself for another meeting with her brother.

  Another meeting that would likely prove to be just as fruitless as the last one, but she had to try.

  He was her brother, and frankly, he deserved better than this.

  She hated what her father had done to him, how he treated his one and only son. She hated that Mark felt he couldn’t live at home anymore, that he felt ostracised by the very people who should love him the most.

  But maybe she could turn that around. Maybe she was his one lifeline, his one chance of having a family. She wasn’t about to abandon him, even if he ended up hating her for it.

  She just wanted what was the best for him and the family, and she would do what was necessary to make that happen.

  Taking another long breath, she regarded the terrace house across the street, with its tired façade and dark windows. The street was not a wealthy one, with its packed-in, cramped housing, messy three-metre deep front gardens and banged up cars parked haphazardly. There was probably a drug problem here, too, if she had to guess. It was that kind of place.

  Thinking of Mark living here made her feel sick to her stomach. But what could she do?

  Well, she’d do whatever was needed to put things right. She had to because no one else would.

  Steeling herself for the confrontation to come, she climbed out of her car and crossed the street.

  Approaching the house, she noted the single parked-up van outside the property before turning in and walking up to the front door. All the windows were dark. It didn’t look like he was here, so maybe this was a fruitless endeavour anyway.

  Had he moved on already? He’d only been here a few weeks. She wondered how that would go down with the landlord. Not well, she guessed… if she was right.

  If he had moved on, she hoped he’d paid this one and not stiffed her too. He’d end up blacklisted for good if he wasn’t careful. Shaking her head, she reached for the door and noticed it swing in slightly as she rapped her knuckles against the wood. The sight of the open door gave her pause as she wondered why on earth he’d leave the front door open on a street like this?

  Unless someone had broken in… or he was in trouble of some kind?

  Suddenly concerned for Mark’s welfare, she pushed the door wide and stepped inside.

  “Mark?”

  No answer. The house was dark and quiet. She had a feeling that no one had been here for a while, but it was strange because it also felt like she wasn’t alone.

  Someone was in here. She felt sure of it.

  “Mark? Are you here?”

  Again, there was nothing, just silence. She glanced right into the front room, but there was no one there. Just well-used furniture on worn carpet that badly needed replacing.

  Turning, she assessed the corridor before approaching the stairs and looking up. Was he in here? Had he fallen somewhere and needed her help? Or…

  She had visions of finding him dead, sitting in a seat or lying in bed. Maybe he’d overdosed? She knew he used occasionally and hoped it wasn’t that. The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine.

  No, it couldn’t be that. It couldn’t possibly be that. She needed to remain positive and think good thoughts. She’d find him asleep, maybe.

  With a frown, she turned back to the front door, the one she’d just closed. But if he was sleeping, why would he have left the door open?

  He was probably drunk. Drowning his sorrows, most likely. He could have forgotten to close the door when he stumbled back. Yeah, that felt like it fit better in her mind.

  Looking back up the stairs, she placed a foot on the first step and heard a sudden thud. But it didn’t come from upstairs. It came from down here, further in. Did it come from below her?

  Did this place have a basement?

  Helen walked around and along the hall, finding that the door under the stairs was ajar. She pulled it wide and saw a glow of light down below.

  So he was here, she concluded with a smile, swiftly followed by a frown as she pondered why he’d be in the basement.

  “Mark, are you down there?”

  There was no answer.

  Helen found herself rooted to the spot, torn between walking down the old stairs or running from the house.

  But why? Why did this scare her so much?

  She knew her brother was here just a few days ago. He was renting it, so it must be him down there for some god-awful reason. She just found herself at a loss as to why.

  But, if he’d been drinking again and fallen, maybe… maybe he needed her help. He could be dying down there, and she was just a few metres away, scared of a basement.

  She shook her head in a vain attempt to banish the silly fears that had blossomed in her mind for no good reason, and think rationally about this. This wasn’t some stupid horror film where the ditzy blonde investigated a dark barn only to find some monstrous creature from a nightmare waiting in the darkness for her.

  This was real life, and she wasn’t blonde. Instead, what she did know was that her brother needed help.

  Mark was not in a good place mentally, with everything that had been going on, and he was renting this dingy place because of her stupid ass dad. She was his one chance of getting out of here, or at least, that’s what she thought, anyway. That’s what she hoped.

  She knew he didn’t quite see it that way, that he didn’t appreciate her sticking her nose into his life, but she couldn’t just leave him. He was her brother. She had to help.

  It was a sister’s duty to stand side by side with her family and do whatever was needed to help them.

  With that thought foremost in her mind, she set off down the stairs, making for the single light source, ment
ally preparing herself for what she might find.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she turned left and looked across a mostly empty space. There were some racks along one wall. Stones and loose debris littered the concrete floor. She noted some cardboard boxes that had seen better days, rags, and little else. Certainly no sign of Mark.

  Weird.

  She felt sure she’d heard something, some kind of movement. Maybe she’d been mistaken? Maybe it was next door?

  The single bare bulb burnt bright, hanging from a cord on the ceiling with a dangling pull chain.

  Maybe he was upstairs, and she was mistaken in thinking someone was down here. Helen walked over and pulled the cord. For a moment, the world went pitch black. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she was soon able to pick out the stairs and the door at the top where dim light leaked into the basement.

  She made for it, feeling unsteady on her feet in the darkness.

  Movement. She heard something shift and looked round to see another light source as if it were… but no, that was impossible.

  What the hell?

  That hadn’t been there a moment ago.

  A shadow moved across the light. Someone was in here with her.

  “Urgh,” she yelped before someone grabbed her and dragged her kicking and screaming away from the stairs and freedom.

  2

  “Here you go, Mr Pilgrim,” the woman said as she handed over the keys to the house with a smile on her face. “You’re officially the new owner.”

  Jon took the keys and smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  “That’s it now,” Kate remarked from his left. “You’re stuck here. You’re officially a southerner. Welcome to the family.”

  Jon gave her a look with one raised eyebrow. “Hardly.”

  “You’re going to have to start talking like us, sooner or later.”

  “Says the Irish girl! To be sure, to be sure. Potatoes!” he replied, putting on an admittedly terrible Irish accent.

  Kate raised a middle finger. “We’ll get to you eventually. Then it’ll be ‘barth’, not ‘bath’ and ‘grarss’ not ‘grass’. You know it’s only a matter of time, Jon. Why fight it?”

  “I shall put up a valiant resistance to the southern taint, on behalf of my northern heritage.”

  “Oh no,” Kate said as she haunched over. She hissed her words and wrung her hands through one another. “It’s only a matter of time. Soon, you will be one of us.”

  “You can be really quite scary when you want to be. You know that?”

  “One of us, one of us, one of us…” she muttered and giggled.

  “And yet, I find it slightly arousing,” he said, suggestively.

  “And on that note, I’ll be off,” the Agent said. “I hope you get settled in soon.”

  Kate watched the agent walk off with a smile and a wave. “You scared her off.”

  “That’s rich, coming from the Tea Witch.”

  “My tea’s always rich and flavoursome, I’ll have you know. Few can withstand its charms.”

  Jon stared at her for a moment. “You’re really going all-in with this witch thing, aren’t you?”

  “Just rolling with the punches, dear. Now come on, let’s get these boxes inside. Try your keys out.”

  Jon turned to face the Guildford townhouse that was now his. The tall, three-storey, dark brick building was his. No more hotel rooms or sleeping on Rachel’s sofa. He had a home. A place of his own, and it felt good. It was a big step, for sure, and it was the first place he’d owned since the house in Nottingham, the one he’d bought with Charlotte.

  But now, here he was, over a hundred miles away, moving into a new home without her.

  Part of him felt sad that his life had moved on so completely from what it had been before, but he knew that had been inevitable. He couldn’t stay in that house, in Nottingham, moping about his dead girlfriend forever. There was so much more to life than that. And it was only a small, nagging part of him that felt that way. For the most part, he was happy. Thrilled even, that he had found his way again after being lost for so long, and part of that was because of the young woman who stood beside him, eager to get into the house and help him move in.

  And so here he was, several months into his new job on the SIU, with a new home and a girlfriend he found he loved as much as he had Charlotte.

  Life wasn’t that bad really, not anymore.

  He missed Charlotte. He felt he probably always would. Those thoughts of ‘what if’ would never go away. But he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, dwell on them. That way lay madness and loneliness, and he would not go there.

  Stepping up to the house, he pushed the key into the lock. He jiggled it around a bit before looking back at Kate, putting a worried expression on his face.

  “Oh…” he said, rattling the key again. “Oh no.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t… it won’t…”

  “You’re kidding! But, she’s gone,” Kate replied, looking along the road to where the agent had driven off.

  With her gaze averted, Jon unlocked the door and opened it, waiting for her to look around.

  “You could jump in your car quickly. I’m sure you could catch her up…” she said, before looking back.

  Jon looked quite amused as he held the door open.

  Kate gave him a look, sticking out her bottom lip. “Git.”

  “I know, but I’m your git. Come on, let’s have look inside.”

  “I wonder what I see in you sometimes, you know?” she grumbled as she followed him in.

  The house was basically identical to how it had looked on his previous visits. He spotted a few more cobwebs than before up in the corners, but they would be easily dealt with. Jon stood in the hall and smiled as he took a breath, satisfied. This would be a good home, he thought. A new start, and a place to make new memories. His old life up in Nottingham seemed like it had all happened so long ago now, as if it had happened to someone else, and he realised that a clean break had been just what he had needed. Others had told him this back up north, including Damon, but he’d resisted. He’d felt like he would be betraying Charlotte by moving away and starting afresh.

  But now he knew he’d been wrong in that assessment, and he also knew that Charlotte would never have wanted him to mope about the rest of his days, lamenting what could have been. She might have been his partner and had loved him dearly, but she’d also been quite a practical woman in certain regards and would want him to live a rich and fulfilling life.

  As these thoughts raced through his mind, while his eyes scanned over the hallway and the rooms, he started to feel a little emotional, but in a good way.

  “Are you alright?” Kate asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

  “Yeah. I’m fine,” he replied, with a sniff, blinking back the tears that were threatening to well up.

  “It’s a big step, I guess,” Kate said, looking up at him. She probably realised what he was thinking about.

  “Yeah. It is. But a good one.” Kate was well aware of his past and the shadow of Charlotte that hung over him sometimes.

  “Come on, we’ve got a load of stuff to move in. Let’s get on with it.”

  Jon nodded, knowing she was trying to distract him and stop him from becoming melancholy, but it was the right thing for her to do, and he appreciated her attempts to keep him on track.

  He followed her back out to the rented van he’d been using to ferry his stuff from the storage place. He’d probably need to make a couple more trips. Plus, there were all the white goods to get delivered and installed too. He was going to be busy working on the house for weeks. Actually, it was probably going to be months, given the nature of his work.

  Setting himself to the task, he started lifting boxes and furniture from the van and into the house. Trying to make sure he put the right bits in the right rooms to minimise work later.

  They ended up taking another trip to the lockup to pick up more stuff and set to transferring tha
t load into the house as well. It was back-breaking work, but there was an element of fun to it, as he figured out which room was which and where things were going to live.

  He’d never been a fan of moving house. The whole thing was just so much bother and hassle when all Jon wanted from his life outside of work was peace and quiet. His and Kate’s work lives were so full of drama and chaos that he wanted to keep that at arm’s length as much as possible.

  Of course, that wasn’t always possible, but he did his best.

  “Cup of tea?” Kate asked, holding the kettle aloft, having plucked it from a box.

  “Yeah,” he replied with a sigh. “Aaah, oi. Hold up. This is my house, and I want to make the first cuppa, and it’ll be a proper brew, made the way it should be made, too.”

  “And how’s that? With gravy and Whippet piss?”

  “Aye, something like that, lass,” he said, walking over and taking the kettle from her hand. “Watch and learn, Barry, watch and learn.”

  “Oh, I am. Dating you has been a constant education, believe me.”

  “It’s good to learn about different ways of life, though, right?”

  “I guess. At least I know how not to live mine.”

  “And yet you bought into it by agreeing to date me.”

  “What can I say? I could see you needed a guiding hand, someone to look after you and show you what you were missing out on.”

  “What, like humous, and quinoa?”

  “Something like that.”

  “What about these?” Jon asked, pulling a packet of Fig Rolls from the shopping bag he’d brought in with him.

  Kate gasped. “Oh, well, now you’re talking. If you keep feeding me those, I’ll be here all night.”

  “You really are a sucker for them, aren’t you?”

  “They’re like mana from heaven. You like them, right?”

  “I do, actually,” Jon admitted. “Unlike Nathan.”

  “See, my positive influence is rubbing off on you. Now, gimmie!” She snatched the packet from him as Jon returned to making tea. Kate pulled out a Fig Roll and took a bite as if it was the most amazing thing she’d ever tasted.