Broken

Broken

  Kris Stone

  PUBLISHED BY:

  Kris Stone

  Copyright © 2013

  www.krisstonebooks.com

  www.twitter.com/krisstone15

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  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

  ____________________________________________

  Prologue

  He wanted his mum. That’s all Matthew could think about as he huddled down on the bare floor of the room in the caravan. Curling up in a foetal position in the corner he hugged his legs to his chest and tried to keep warm. It was bitterly cold and all he had on was a dirty and ripped T-shirt and a pair of shorts. There was nothing in the room that he could use to help him keep warm as it was completely bare apart from the bucket in the corner, which he used as a toilet.

  As he lay there shivering he heard footsteps approach the door and stop outside. The shivering was replaced with shaking as he was gripped with fear. He heard the rattle of the padlock being unlocked and the door was pushed open.

  The man standing there did not look especially scary. He was only about 5 foot six with the lean, scrawny looking build of a racing greyhound. The eyes though were pure evil as they looked at him. In his right hand he held a lit cigarette and Matthew knew what was coming next. The fear was too much for him and he wet himself, the warm trickle of urine visibly running down his left leg.

  The man just laughed. ‘Is that any way to say hello to your dear old dad?’

  Chapter One

  Most normal people try and avoid working over Christmas but Lee volunteered for the night shift every year. It was usually quieter than other shifts, and so far this year was no different. The snow helped. Dorset, positioned as it is on the South Coast of England, is not known for its heavy snowfall. This year though we’d had some severe snowstorms and, looking out the window, it seemed likely they were here to stay for a while longer.

  Filling up his mug with coffee from the now nearly empty coffee machine, he glanced at the clock and realised it was past midnight and it was now Boxing Day. He hoped the shift would liven up soon. Patrol had been ticking over nicely with jobs. Mainly traffic accidents due to the weather but nothing had come into CID all night.

  As if on cue the phone on his desk rang interrupting his thoughts. “DS Briggs” Lee answered. It was DI James, his boss.

  “On the Christmas shift again Lee? You’re going to wish you’d had this Christmas off.”

  His tone of voice made him wish he’d been a bit more careful about what he wished for. “What have you got?”

  “A farmer checking on his cows found an unconscious woman in one of his fields. Thankfully they didn’t trample her. Uniform were sent but it’s clearly one for us. She’s been taken to Dorchester hospital barely alive. It looks like she’s been shot, though she’s still alive at the moment. It doesn’t look good though.”

  “Ok, I’ll head down to the hospital.”

  “Good man. Oh and Lee?”

  “Yes boss?”

  “Merry Christmas”

  Chapter Two

  Stamping the snow off his shoes Lee looked around the A&E department of Dorchester hospital. The drive from the station had taken twice as long as it would normally and he hoped the woman was still holding on. It may have been quiet everywhere else, but a hospital's accident and emergency department was one of those places that never seemed to stop. Going to the reception desk he had to flash his warrant card to get the attention of a harried looking nurse. She pointed him in the right direction and buzzed him through the locked doors to the major’s department, much to the disgust of those in the waiting room, who thought he was a patient taking their rightful place in the queue. Their grumbles followed him through the doors as he pushed them open and went through.

  There appeared to be eight beds in all, all of which were occupied. It was the bed at the far end which drew his attention as it was surrounded by medical personnel. As he started to make his way over to it a man stepped in front of him, bringing him up short.

  ‘Excuse me sir, who are you?’

  Holding up his identification Lee introduced himself. ‘DS Briggs’

  ‘Ah I see. I’m Dr Sharma, head of trauma. Please follow me.’

  Dr Sharma shook his hand and waved him to a small side room where he sat down with a sigh. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

  'What can you tell me?'

  'It's touch and go. She's been shot twice, once in the head and once in the back. The shot to the back doesn't appear to have caused too much damage as it looks like it ricocheted off one of her ribs and missed the vital organs, but it's the head wound we're worried about. The bullet entered her head through her right temple. The angle was shallow so it exited just above her right eye. It fractured her skull though, and this has led to bleeding on the brain.'

  'Has she said anything?'

  'She was unconscious by the time she got to us, but the paramedics said that she just kept repeating 'find my son, find my son'. Your guys had a good look round I understand but there was no one else with her.

  'Do you have any idea who she is?'

  Dr Sharma walked over to a desk in the corner of the room and picked up a clear plastic bag.

  'These are the things that were on her when she was brought in.'

  Taking the bag he looked inside a saw a purse among the jewellery and other items that had been taken from the victim. Taking a pair of disposable gloves from a dispenser on the wall, he took out the purse and opened it. There was a photo of a woman with a boy of about six inside, presumably the victim, a small amount of cash and a driver’s licence. The name on the licence was Tracey Collier.

  'Looks like we have a name then. Any idea when I'll be able to talk to her?'

  'I really can’t say at this stage. The outlook is not good and she may not wake up at all.'

  Lee handed over his card.

  'My personal mobile is listed on there, as well as my work number, so please contact me as soon as there is any news. No matter what time of the day or night.'

  Shaking Dr Sharma's hand Lee turned and left.

  Stepping outside he stood under the concrete canopy outside the hospital and considered his next steps. Although he had the victim's name it was not a lot to go on. He had no idea where this woman was from, or how she had come to end up in that field. He decided to head back to the station to run the information he had about her through the system and see what that threw up, if anything.

  Chapter Three

  Making a fresh cup of coffee to warm myself up Lee sat at his desk and picked up the plastic bag he had taken from the hospital. He carefully placed everything into an evidence pouch, and signed the seal. He would need to pass this on to forensics and didn’t want to risk any cross-contamination. Having made a note of the details, he entered the name and date of birth from the licence into his computer and waited for the results. Several files immediately popped up. Opening them one by one it became clear that all the files showed the woman as a victim of domestic violence at the hands of her husband, a Mark O’Connor. Copying over his details to another screen he entered his details in the system. Even he was surprised at the length of his conviction record, mostly for violence related offences. Several of those were domestic violence offences against his wife and against his son who, from the details in front of him, Lee realised was only eight years old.

  From both the files he was
able to build up a picture of his victim. She and her husband were travelling gypsies and had had extensive contact with the police across the country. The files dated back several years and he couldn’t help but wonder why on earth she had stayed with him so long. Her husband was currently wanted on warrant as he had failed to appear for a court hearing. A hearing where he was due to be sentenced for yet another assault on his wife and son. The warrant was about a year old, so he had obviously not been picked up in the last twelve months. He counted no less than fifteen instances where she had been admitted to hospital as a result of her husband battering her, and those were just the times they were aware of.

  Checking his watch he realised it was nearly 6am. As it was Christmas social services wouldn’t be open. There would be someone on the out of hours number though who may be able to give him a bit more information on the kid. Picking up the phone he dialled the number he knew by heart.

  'Hi Jan, its Lee over in Dorchester' over the years he had come to know most of those working for social services in Dorset.

  'Hi Lee, so you got the Christmas shift did you?

  'Indeed I did. Listen, I may have a missing kid and was hoping you might be able to give me a bit of background on him. If you've had any contact with him that is. His family are travelers so he may not have crossed your desk.'

  'What's his name?'

  'Matthew Collier, 8 years. His mum is Tracey Collier and dad is Mark O’Connor.'

  ‘Hang on a tic.’

  Lee heard the tapping of keys as he waited.

  'Yep here we go. We had quite a lot of contact with him around this time last year. He was assaulted by his father who broke his nose. Proceedings were instigated to have him taken into care, but they disappeared before we could action it. It seems the mother got assaulted during the same incident trying to protect him. He was arrested by police, and released on bail, but didn't show for the hearing. From the notes I’ve got here it seems that both mum and the boy were terrified of him.'

  'It would seem they had good reason to be. Mum turned up in a field this morning with two gunshot wounds, she may not make it. There was no trace of Matthew or his dad anywhere.'

  'You need to find him Lee, from this file I'd say it wasn't the first time the boy had taken a beating, and it probably won't be the last.'

  'I intend to. Ok, thanks for your help Jan and Merry Christmas.'

  Putting the phone down he could feel anger and determination start bubbling inside me. He was going to find this kid. There was not much more he could do tonight. Uniform were canvassing the area, CSI were dealing with the scene and the files had been updated with the events of the night. He decided to go home, grab a few hours sleep, and come back at lunchtime when the gypsy liaison officer would be on duty.

  Letting himself into his cottage on the outskirts of Dorchester he felt emotionally exhausted. Cases involving children were always hard, and these days he felt that impact much more acutely. It was cold in the cottage as the heating had been off overnight so he went into the lounge and switched on the living flame gas fire, which quickly warmed the frigid air. The cottage had been a real find. They’d been looking for something close enough to work that commuting wouldn’t be a nightmare, but far enough away from the town that Josh could enjoy the countryside. They’d stumbled upon the cottage by accident, on their way to viewing another property, and had fallen in love with it immediately. It was barely visible from the winding country road it was on as it was surrounded by high trees that offered privacy. It had an acre of land, and the views from the back garden stretched for miles across country fields. They’d been there barely a year before disaster had struck and now he couldn’t bear to part with it. Taking a photo down from the mantelpiece he sat on the sofa and allowed himself to feel the pain of his loss. Tracing his finger over the photo of his wife and son, he made a promise. ‘I couldn’t save you but I will do everything in my power to save this kid.’

  Taking the throw of the back of the sofa he pulled it over himself and, holding the photo to his chest, he drifted off to asleep.

  Chapter Four

  When he woke up a few hours later he felt refreshed and keen to get back to work. He put the coffee machine on and headed upstairs to get out of the clothes he’d fallen asleep in and have a shower. Grabbing some clean clothes from the wardrobe he got dressed and went back downstairs. Opening the fridge he was reminded that he really did need to do some food shopping. His options being limited, he made himself a cheese sandwich, poured a cup of coffee and settled at the kitchen counter. While he ate he wrote a note for Cynthia, his housekeeper, thanking her for the stew she had left for him on her last visit. He was in a hurry to get back to the station so he just left the dirty dishes in the sink and headed back to work. He was keen to speak to the gypsy liaison to see if she had any intelligence on Mark O’Connor, or the group he travelled with.

  PC Stokes was the local gypsy liaison officer and, as luck would have it, she was on duty that day. Her office was located on the floor above his so, taking the stairs two at a time, he headed up to talk to her. Cathy Stokes had been in the job for nearly 30 years and there was very little she hadn't seen. She was perfect for the liaison role as her years on the street had turned her into a tough cookie, who wouldn't take any crap from anyone. A definate must when dealing with some of the gypsy population. He knocked on the door to her office and went in.

  'Hi Cathy.'

  Wiping what appeared to be whipped cream from her top lip, presumably from the half eaten cream horn sitting on her desk, she waved at him to sit.

  'Morning Lee, what can I do for you? I'm guessing you're not visiting because you've finally realised that I'm the woman for you?'

  'Of course you're the woman for me Cathy, but how could I possibly crush the dreams of so many other men who live in hope that one day you will be theirs?'

  'Cut the bull Lee' she said laughing

  'Did you hear about the shooting last night?

  'Sure did, sounds like a nasty business. That yours is it?'

  'Yeh. Victim is a Tracey Collier. Wife of a bloke called Mark O’Connor. Does the name mean anything to you?’

  'Oh yeah. I had the pleasure about this time last year when he laid into his Mrs and his little boy. He's a nasty piece of work. I tried to talk the wife into leaving but she was having none of it. The little boy was terrified though. Damn near broke my heart leaving him there.’

  'Well they've moved on now and I was hoping you may be able to give me some idea of where he may be headed?’

  'Not offhand but he travels with a group of about twelve families so he shouldn't be too hard to track down. Give me a bit of time and I'll see what I can dig up.'

  'Time is the one thing I'm not sure we have. If he's done that to his wife, assuming it was him, then god only knows what he'll do to the kid.'

  'I'll get on it straight away Lee. As soon as I get anything I’ll let you know.’

  Cathy watched as Lee turned and walked out of her office. She’d known him since he was a probationer about ten years ago. He’d joined up after leaving the army when he was already in his late twenties. They’d become fast friends and she had been there when he married his wife. And when he’d buried her. She knew a lot of the female officers would jump at the chance of getting to know him better. Not surprising really, he was not only a very handsome man but a kind one too. Despite Cathy’s encouragement though, he had not shown any interest in any of them. With a sigh Cathy put her worries about him to one side and picked up the phone. Time to start making some calls.

  Chapter Five

  The caravan was moving. Whatever position he put himself in with every jolt came more pain as he banged into the floor and the walls. The cigarette burns on his back were excruciating and tears streamed down his face. The trailer suddenly lurched to a stop and he wondered if they had arrived at wherever they were going.

  It was several h
ours later, and getting dark, before his dad came for him. Without a word he grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the caravan. As he looked around he could see they were on some sort of the farm, though from the dilapidated state of the buildings it appeared to have been abandoned several years ago. The other families they travelled with were there too, but they also seemed to have picked up several more along the way. As his dad pulled him stumbling towards a barn, he could hear voices and shouting coming from within. The big doors had been pushed open and he could see old bales of hay had been used to create makeshift seating. There must have been forty or fifty people sat facing towards the centre of the room, where ropes had been attached to traffic cones to form a rough square. When the crowd saw him they erupted with whistling and foot stamping.

  ‘Now you can earn your keep’ said his dad and, without warning, he shoved him into the ring. Matthew lost his footing and ended up sprawled face down on the floor. Dazed and confused he tried to get up but, before he could, he felt a hard kick to the ribs. He heard the crack and instantly felt an excruciating pain shoot through him. Sobbing he tried to scrabble away but the blows kept falling. He managed to roll onto his back and he got a look at his attacker. The boy wasn’t much older than him probably ten or eleven, but physically they were as different as night and day. It was obvious that this boy was used to fighting and even at his young age, he was quite muscled. Just then the boy lunged at him again and this time his foot connected with the side of his head. Just before he lost consciousness he could hear his father laughing.

  Chapter Six

  Lee got back into his car and slammed his hand on the steering wheel. Thirteen farms and not a single lead. He had nothing. Forensics had come up empty at the original scene, it looked like the shooting had taken place somewhere else and the body dumped in the field where she was left for dead, and there had been no sightings of the group. He had hit a dead end. They didn’t even know what kind of vehicles the group were travelling in, or even if Mark O’Connor was still travelling with the others. Looking out of the car window he realised it was getting dark. He had been at this all day and was no closer to finding the kid. For all he knew, they could be hundreds of miles away by now. A rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since the sandwich he’d grabbed at home earlier. He decided to check in on the victim at the hospital before calling it a day. On the drive back to Dorchester hospital he put a call in to Cathy to see if she had had any luck at her end, but she had nothing new to report. He was getting increasingly frustrated. The first twenty four hours were crucial in any investigation but this time it looked as though the odds were against him.