Dead End Read online

  Praise for DEAD END

  ‘A brilliant talent in the thriller field’

  – Jeffery Deaver

  ‘ A macabre read, full of enthralling characters and gruesome details which kept me glued from first page to last’

  – Graham Smith, Crimesquad

  ‘I found the narrative well written and at times terrifyingly brutal. The tension slowly builds as the twists and turns develop and as the story unfolds I could not put this book down’

  – Ann Marie Muldoon New Books Magazine

  ‘An encounter that will take them into the darkest recesses of the human psyche’

  – Barry Forshaw, Crime Time

  Praise for CUT SHORT

  ‘Cut Short is a stylish, top-of-the-line crime tale, a seamless blending of psychological sophistication and gritty police procedure. And you're just plain going to love DI Geraldine Steel’

  – Jeffery Deaver

  ‘Russell paints a careful and intriguing portrait of a small British community while developing a compassionate and complex heroine who's sure to win fans’

  – Publishers Weekly

  ‘an excellent debut’

  – Mark Campbell, Crime Time

  ‘It's an easy read with the strength of the story at its core… If you want to be swept along with the story above all else, Cut Short is certainly a novel for you’

  – crimeficreader, http://itsacrime.typepad.com

  ‘Simply awesome! This debut novel by Leigh Russell will take your breath away’

  – Amanda C M Gillies, eurocrime.co.uk

  An excellent book… Truly a great start for new mystery author Leigh Russell’

  – Michael Lipkin, New York Journal of Books

  ‘A surefire hit – a taut, slick, easy to read thriller’

  – Watford Observer

  ‘A pretty fine police procedural, with a convincin if disconcerting feel of contemporary Britain’

  – Compulsive Reader

  ‘Cut Short featured in one of Eurocrime's reviewer's Top Reads for 2009’

  – Eurocrime

  ‘Cut Short is not a comfortable read, but it is a comelling and important one. Highly recommended’

  –Mystery Women

  ‘Well written debut psychological thriller’

  – www.stopyourekillingme.com

  ‘Gritty and totally addictive debut novel’

  – New York Journal of Books

  ‘If you're a real fan of police procedurals, you'll probably enjoy this read’

  – Sacramento Book Review

  ‘An excellent story, skilfully built and well told’

  – www.thebookbag.co.uk

  ‘intelligently written, gripping crime fiction’

  – Bookersatz Blogspot

  ‘I look forward to the second book in the series’

  – Nayu's Reading Corner

  ‘a very excellent book!’

  – The Book Buff Blog

  ‘a wonderful series’

  – http://clarissadraper.blogspot.com

  Praise for Road Closed

  ‘A well-written, soundly plotted, psychologically acute story’

  – Marcel Berlins, The Times

  ‘Well-written and absorbing right from the get-go… with an exhilarating climax that you don't see coming’

  – Amanda Gillies, eurocrime.co.uk

  ‘New star of crime fiction, Leigh Russell's chilling sychological thriller is terrific & terrifying!’

  – Clem Chambers

  ‘Road Closed is a gripping, fast-paced read, pulling you in from the very first tense page and keeping you captivated right to the end with its refreshingly compelling and original narrative’

  – New York Journal of Books

  ‘Enjoyable crime, without the graphic blood and guts so many authors use’

  – jillysheep Blog

  ‘I recommend this to all murder mystery readers and it will improve your holiday by packing a copy’

  – Nayu's Reading Corner

  ‘Keeps you guessing until the end and packs some powerful surprises’

  – Helen Hunt, Bookersatz Blog

  ‘Leigh Russell's book Road Closed had me wanting to say to heck with everyone and everything else until I had turned ever page’

  Book Place

  ‘a gritty page turner from the start’

  – Louise Purser, Star Magazine

  ‘An even better read than Cut Short!’

  – The Secret Writer

  ‘Leigh Russell does a good job of keeping her readers guessing. She also uses a deft hand developing her characters, especially the low-lifes… a good read’

  – San Francisco Book Review

  Also by Leigh Russell

  Cut Short

  Road Closed

  DEAD END

  LEIGH RUSSELL

  www.noexit.co.uk

  NO EXIT PRESS

  Dedicated to

  Michael, Jo & Phill

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank Dr Leonard Russell for his medical advice, all my contacts on the police force for their help my editor for her guidance, David Marshall for his support, and Annette Crossland with all the team at No Exit Press.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Part 1

  1: Abigail

  2: Waiting

  3: Discovery

  4: Team

  5: Scene of Crime

  6: Surfing

  7: Morgue

  8: Family

  9: Shock

  10: Briefing

  11: Interviews

  12: Waste

  13: Mistress

  14: Zoe

  Part 2

  15: Vernon

  16: Matthew

  17: Arrangements

  18: Ben

  19: Witness

  20: Hannah

  21: Agency

  22: Charlotte

  23: Whitewash

  24: Drink

  25: Evie

  26: Stalker

  Part 3

  27: Marriage

  28: Trust

  29: Alarm

  30: Date

  31: Hallowe'en

  32: Missing

  33: School

  34: Neighbours

  35: Carol

  36: Release

  37: Talk

  38: Agreement

  39: Interest

  40: Visitor

  41: Clean UP

  Part 4

  42: Guy

  43: Grief

  44: Corpse

  45: Store

  46: Impatience

  47: Identification

  48: Argument

  49: Secrets

  50: Dissatisfaction

  51: Leaving

  Part 5

  52: Daughter

  53: Panic

  54: Name

  55: Concealment

  56: Justice

  57: Escape

  58: Whitstable

  59: School

  60: Cafe

  61: Arrest

  62: Regret

  63: Proposal

  64: Journey

  65: The Truth

  66: Cellar

  67: Moving on

  68: Change

  Questions and Answers

  ‘When you kill somebody you change the universe.’

  Dr Gwen Adshead,

  Consultant Forensic Psychotherapist, Broadmoor Hospital

  Glossary of acronyms used in Dead End

  DCI - Detective Chief Inspector (senior officer on case)

  DI - Detective Inspector

  DS - Detective Sergeant

  DC - Detective Constable

  SOCO - Scene of Crime Officers (collect forensic evidence at scene)

  PM - Post-Morte
m or Autopsy (examination of dead body to establish cause of death)

  GCSE - General Certificate of Secondary Education (high school examinations)

  CCTV - Closed Circuit Television (security cameras)

  PART 1

  ‘When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.’

  Khalil Gibran

  1

  Abigail

  Abigail's head hurt. She was afraid something was wrong with her eyes. She couldn't see anything. A heavy weight was pressing down on her chest. She fought against a feeling of nausea, and tried to turn her head but couldn't.

  ‘Hello,’ she croaked. No answer. She was alone in the darkness.

  It had been raining when she left the shopping centre. Her son, Ben, had been trying out for an under-fourteen football team at his new school and Abigail had promised to be there when he came home. She remembered hurrying along the street, away from the shops. Now she was lying in darkness, unable to move.

  ‘Hello,’ she called again. Her throat hurt and there was a strange smell. By now Abigail had realised she was in hospital, coming round from an operation. Nurses of all people should have known better than to leave her lying on her back. There was a risk she might choke to death if she were sick. She seemed to lie there for hours, drifting in and out of consciousness. ‘Hello,’ she called again. ‘Is anyone there? Please?’

  The light dazzled her.

  ‘Am I in hospital?’ she asked. Her voice sounded far away. ‘Are you a doctor?’

  ‘Hello, Mrs Kirby. Mrs Abigail Kirby.’ The man smiled. ‘How are you feeling?’ He held up a syringe. Clear liquid glistened on the tip of the needle. The man leaned forward, his head framed by an aura of white light.

  Abigail closed her eyes and drifted back into dreams. She woke up in darkness. ‘Doctor?’ she called. ‘Hello? Are you there? Is anyone there?’

  Silence.

  2

  Waiting

  Matthew Kirby glanced irritably at the clock. It was half term but Abigail had gone out early as usual. She was obsessed with her work. Since her promotion to headmistress she barely seemed to spare a thought for her family. Matthew had long since forgiven her for neglecting him. He was making a life for himself, a life that didn't include his wife, but Lucy and Ben were another matter. That betrayal was unforgivable. Ben was doing well at his new school. He had settled in straight away. Lucy was a worry.

  ‘It's her age,’ Matthew's girlfriend, Charlotte, told him. He wasn't convinced. The upheaval of moving to the South of England when her mother changed job wasn't ideal for a socially awkward fourteen-year-old girl.

  Matthew frowned and checked the sausages before shouting from the foot of the stairs. ‘Lunch is ready!’

  A moment later he heard Ben charging down the stairs. Ben's grin faded as he caught sight of his father turning from the hob with a frying pan of sausages. ‘Where's mum? I want to tell her –’ He stopped, registering the expression on his father's face. ‘She's not here, is she? She promised –’

  Matthew put down the frying pan. ‘Where's Lucy?’

  Ben shrugged. ‘In her room. Where else?’ He flung himself on a chair, long limbs awry. ‘I'm starving.’

  ‘We're waiting for Lucy.’

  ‘If I heard you, she did. She'd be here if she was hungry.’

  Matthew strode out into the hall. ‘Lucy! Get down here now. Lunch is on the table!’ He swept back into the kitchen and shuffled sausages and beans onto three plates. Behind him, toast popped up.

  Lucy appeared, sullen, in the doorway. ‘Aren't we going to wait for mum?’

  ‘Your mother's not here.’

  ‘I can see that.’ Lucy made no move to join her father and brother at the table.

  ‘Come and sit down,’ Matthew said. ‘Mummy's working today.’

  ‘She's always bloody working,’ Ben complained. ‘It's Saturday.’ His chair scraped on the floor as he pulled himself closer to the table. ‘I wanted to tell her about football training.’

  ‘You'll have to tell her tonight.’

  ‘She doesn't want to come home. It's his fault.’ Lucy glared at Matthew. ‘Him and his friend.’

  ‘Come and sit down,’ Matthew repeated in an even tone.

  ‘I'm not hungry.’

  ‘Lucy –’ he began but her feet were already pounding up the stairs.

  ‘All the more for us, dad,’ Ben grinned.

  Matthew sat down and picked at his food while Ben shovelled beans into his mouth. After a few minutes, Matthew put down his fork. Ben listened to his father's footsteps on the landing above. He heard knocking at Lucy's door. Silence, followed by the muted buzz of voices. Ben stood up and helped himself to more sausages, picking out the ones that weren't charred. By the time his father came down, Ben was seated at the table again, wiping his plate clean.

  ‘She never eats,’ he told his father cheerfully. ‘Any chance of seconds?’ He jumped up and began scraping the last of the beans from the pan.

  ‘Use a wooden spoon,’ Matthew protested. ‘You're scratching the saucepan.’

  ‘I'm done.’ Ben turned round. ‘What did she mean, dad?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘About you and your friend. What was she talking about?’

  ‘Nothing. You know your sister.’ Matthew sighed. ‘What does she do up there on her own in her room all the time?’

  ‘She's on the internet.’ Ben left the kitchen and raced up the stairs, two at a time. Matthew watched him go. Slim and lithe, Ben reminded Matthew of himself as a youngster. They had the same straight nose and blue eyes, an unexpected combination with their black hair. Matthew cleared the plates off the table and dumped them in the sink. Abigail could clear up when she came home or, more likely, leave it for the cleaning lady to do in the morning.

  Matthew closed the kitchen door before phoning Charlotte. ‘It's me. I'll be over later on this afternoon. You weren't planning on going out, were you?’

  ‘What time will you be round?’

  ‘Soon.’

  ‘The sooner the better.’

  Matthew grinned and rang off. He threw a glance at the dirty plates in the sink then went upstairs and tapped on Ben's door. No answer. He knocked more loudly.

  ‘Come in.’

  Matthew looked at the clutter of clothes and school books that littered the floor of Ben's bedroom. ‘I'm going out.’

  ‘OK.’ Ben turned back to his computer game.

  ‘I have to see someone from work.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘I won't be back late but don't wait up,’ Matthew added. Ben wasn't listening.

  ‘Go away!’ Lucy shouted out as soon as Matthew knocked on her door.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Are you deaf? I said, go away!’

  Gingerly, Matthew pushed the door open. Lucy was sitting at her computer, typing.

  ‘Lucy –’ he began.

  Lucy minimised the screen and spun round, her face twisted in fury. ‘Get out of my room! You've got no right to come in here without permission.’

  ‘I just wanted to tell you I'm going out.’

  ‘Good. Don't bother to come back.’ She turned her back on him and sat waiting for him to leave.

  Matthew closed the door softly. His daughter's resentment was just part of being adolescent, he told himself. He wasn't sure how Lucy had discovered he was seeing Charlotte. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing; his children had to find out sooner or later. In the long term he knew it wouldn't be a problem, because once they met Charlotte they were bound to like her. It would all work itself out in the end. Right now he was on his way to see her and life was good. He drove away from the house, whistling.

  Abigail had moved South, taking the children with her, which meant Matthew had to go too. He had tried to explain to Charlotte that he couldn't split his family apart so soon. He felt responsible for the children whose mother was absent even though she came h
ome every night. The only possible solution had been for Charlotte to follow him South. She had found a job in Faversham, on the understanding that Abigail would agree to a divorce as soon as she was established in her new post.

  ‘Once she's busy with her new school, she won't worry about getting divorced. She'll be glad to be rid of me,’ he assured Charlotte.

  Only things hadn't worked out as Matthew had planned. When Abigail had been appointed headmistress of Harchester School in Kent, Matthew had been working for a partnership of surveyors in York. Several local firms had already folded with the collapse of the building trade, and he had the impression his colleagues were relieved when he resigned after nearly twenty years with the firm. Their reaction hardly made him feel valued. It didn't help when he had to settle for a tedious job in Faversham, where he spent most of the day biting his tongue, bored and depressed, taking instructions from a woman half his age. He wasn't the only one who had sacrificed a career. Charlotte had given up nursing to follow him. Matthew had suggested she apply for a transfer, but she seemed happy to leave nursing.