‘Is this to do with Diane?’
‘The men paid her. They’d come over when she wasn’t there.’
‘When you were a child?’
He yelled and began hitting himself on the side of the head. ‘I can never tell. I can never tell. I can never tell.’ He scarpered to the floor like a scared animal and shuffled on his bottom into the corner of the room. ‘Don’t let them hurt me.’ Tears streamed down his face. ‘Stop talking.’ He clamped his hands over his ears.
‘Mr Leason?’ Gina shouted as she stood and walked over to him. The solicitor remained in his chair and stared at his phone.
‘Ouch, keep them away. I need you to protect me,’ he said in a childlike voice. He leaned forward and began bashing his head against the back wall, again and again. ‘Don’t let them hurt me. Don’t let them hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me.’
They’d lost him. Jacob ran across the room towards her. This man had put PC Smith’s life in danger. A part of her wanted to leave him to continue bashing his head against the wall until his own brains were spilling out. A part of her also wanted to understand him more. He’d been hurt and he’d never had the chance to process everything that happened to him as a child, and, right at this moment, he had reverted back to being that petrified child. She wrapped her arms around his head and held him with all her strength, trying to stop him from bashing his head into the wall again. ‘Call an ambulance.’ That’s all she needed, three people in hospital. ‘And make sure uniform go with him. I want the room under twenty-four-hour guard.’ She now had plenty to charge him with but on looking at him, she wondered if he’d put in a defence of insanity or diminished responsibility. He looked to be genuinely affected but when she was interviewing him, she was sure she was speaking directly to a psychopath. She might never know if his breakdown was genuine or real. If he was playing them or had genuinely regressed back into his childhood trauma. A psych evaluation would tell her more.
Jacob grabbed his phone and called for help. His phone beeped. ‘It’s an email from forensics. They have some news about the Leasons’ garden. And there’s news on Smith.’ He stared at the phone open-mouthed.
Seventy-Three
Gina ran along the hospital corridor, straight to the recovery ward and saw Smith lying on a bed with monitors beeping all around him. The wound on his neck had been packed with dressings. ‘I’m thirsty,’ he mumbled as he tried to open an eye. His wife smiled and wiped a tear away.
‘Mrs Smith,’ Gina said. The woman held his hand as she looked up.
‘The dog is in the bins eating candyfloss. Shall we see Mick Jagger before we have a wash?’ Smith closed his eyes, forgetting about his thirst for a short while.
Mrs Smith gently placed his hand on the top of the crisp white sheet and crept over to Gina.
‘How is he? We heard he’d come out of surgery.’
‘It was a success. He’s going to be fine. They missed the major artery but he still lost a lot of blood. I didn’t fully understand what they told me but he’s going to be fine.’ She turned away and began to sob. Gina placed an arm around the woman.
‘If there’s anything you need just call me or call the station. Anything? I’m going to head over to see someone else in the hospital, but I’ll be back in a while. I’ll bring a drink and something to eat.’
The woman wiped her long brown hair from the side of her mouth. ‘I’m not hungry. How can I eat when he’s like that?’
Gina pulled away and placed her hands on the woman’s shoulders. ‘Because you need your strength. When he comes home, he’s going to need a lot of help for a while.’
‘Why is the cake in the shed?’ Smith called out, his eyes still shut.
‘You’re right.’ Mrs Smith smiled and sat in the chair next to her husband’s bed and held his hand again. Another couple walked towards the bed, an ashen-looking round woman and a tall man; both looked to be in their late sixties. Smith’s parents. Gina slowly crept away. She had other visits to make and Jacob would have arrived at the hospital by now.
Seventy-Four
‘He’s one screwed up man, guv,’ Jacob said as they walked along the corridor heading to the ward at the far end.
‘I know. All those lives wasted. I don’t envy Wyre having to speak to Noah Ashmore.’ She shuddered at the thought of the conversation they’d be having now. She’d seen it before, families torn apart by violence and murder. He’d have to manage alone with his daughter, attend to her grief and heartache. She knew he’d been playing around and their relationship had been far from perfect, but the loss wouldn’t be any less because of that. Samantha Felton’s family would also have to be told about the remains in the Leasons’ garden and Richard Leason’s workshop. The bottom half of a young female body had been found under the pagoda and the top half buried in his cubbyhole in the workshop. Her stomach almost turned as she imagined the poor woman on his workbench being sawn apart. She thought he’d probably been trying to chop the body into smaller pieces but had given up. Bernard had reported saw marks on some of the other bones. Richard had obviously given up and buried her in two halves. Gina knew she had to be the one to speak to Diane.
Gina’s phone vibrated in her pocket. ‘DI Harte.’
‘Guv, the officer who went in with Aimee just called. She’s been assessed and has asked for you.’
Gina made a mental note of the ward number and headed up the stairs. ‘This way. Aimee Prowse has come around and wants to speak to us. I could seriously do with a clone.’
Hurrying along the corridor, past a row of coffee machines, Gina took a right and pressed the buzzer outside the double doors. A nurse looked up. Gina and Jacob held their identification up to the little window and the nurse released the doors. ‘That was quick.’
‘We were already here.’
‘Oh yes, I heard about your colleague, I’m sorry. Follow me.’ The woman’s loose bun bounced as she walked.
‘How is she?’
