The Stranger Within Read online

  The Stranger Within

  DI Hamilton Book 4

  Tara Lyons

  Contents

  Also by Tara Lyons

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  A Note from Bloodhound Books:

  Acknowledgments

  Copyright © 2018 Tara Lyons

  The right of Tara Lyons to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  First published in 2018 by Bloodhound Books

  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  www.bloodhoundbooks.com

  Also by Tara Lyons

  DI Hamilton Series

  In The Shadows ( Book 1)

  No Safe Home ( Book 2)

  Deadly Friendship ( Book 3)

  Praise for Tara Lyons

  “All I could say when I finished this book was OMG!!! I thought I was being pretty smart and has guessed the identity of the murderer boy was I wrong, I did not see that coming – what an excellent debut it is from Tara Lyons.” Donna Maguire - Donna’s Book Blog

  “This is a must read for crime thriller fans!!” Claire Knight - A Knight’s Reads

  “An exciting chase for an unknown killer that takes the reveal to the very last pages and leaves you holding your breath. A fantastic read.” Emma Welton - Damppebbles

  “As a debut novel all I can say if the author has left herself a lot to live up to but given the quality of the writing and her ability to keep you on the edge of your seat I am sure she will rise to the challenge.” Amazon Reviewer

  “Tara Lyons has nailed it with this superb thriller.” Amazon Reviewer

  “Full of thrills and unexpected plot revelations, I found myself not wanting it to end.” Amazon Reviewer

  “Excellent characterisation and a brilliant plotline made this a five star read from beginning to end.” Anita Waller - Best selling author

  “I fell in love with DI Hamilton from the start, what a hero! I promise you this story will keep you on the edge of your seat. I WANT MORE!!” Gemma Myers - Between The Pages Book Club

  “Despite the grimness of the topic in this novel, it is an easy and enjoyable read, a fast-paced excellently written thriller.” Caroline Vincent - Bits About Books

  “No Safe Home ticked all the boxes for me It is fast paced and gritty and definitely a must read I cannot recommend it enough giving it 5 massive gold stars.” Shell Baker - Chelle’s Book Reviews

  “Tara Lyons has brought yet another cracking story to the table.” Susan Hampson - Books from Dusk Till Dawn

  “From the brilliant writing that flows throughout, to the intricate plotting that kept me guessing to the very end, this book had me hooked.” J A Baker - Author

  “Some real surprises and all wrapped up so well at the end. A thoroughly enjoyable read!” Amazon Reviewer

  “A well written novel that holds you to the end. A nice twist and well observed characters, I couldn’t put it down.” Amazon Reviewer

  “This book has a great prologue with that #killerhook right from the start and an awesome build up of suspense and anticipation that kept me wanting to turn those pages!” Noelle Holten - Crimebookjunkie

  For Nan and Grandad

  Reunited

  Prologue

  She sliced the razor blade across his throat with the confidence of an expert assassin. It wasn’t her usual method, but improvisation was needed as he had stared up at her, lovingly and unknowing. He gasped, his dark brooding eyes widening as he thrashed on the bed, his shackled hands powerless to help. A choking gurgle reverberated from deep within his chest and a splattering of blood gushed from his mouth. His face fell to the side, the continual wheezing and giant gasps of breath infuriated her, while the crimson liquid streamed down his cheek and chin, joining the river flowing from his neck.

  With his brain quickly starved of oxygen, the man’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, unconsciousness taking over. She intently watched his every twitch and shudder, wishing she could actually witness the last breath escape from his already blue tainted lips. But time was against her. If permitted, she would happily stay rooted there on top of his naked body; his arms bound to the black iron headrest in expectation of pleasure. She would feel his skin turn cold underneath her and watch the light fade from his eyes. He deserved it. But time wouldn’t allow such luxuries, and she jumped from her superior position.

  She stood in front of the small mirrored tiles above the sink in the corner of the room and inspected the splashes of blood decorating her face, neck, chest and arms. Time wouldn’t allow for a shower, either. She grabbed the white flannel from its place on the taps, ran it under the water and scrubbed the man’s stains from her skin. The plan had been set in motion. This chapter of her life had finally ended and she needed to move on.

  The woman rushed, brushing her hair into a sleek bun and then pulling a small box from underneath the bed. She slipped the cropped, black wig into place over her head and collected the man’s clothes from the floor. Dressing in his black shirt and trousers, she finished the outfit with her own black trainers and bomber jacket. She paused briefly to roll the waistband up and over a few more times; already trying to push the image of the dying fat bastard from her mind. Inside the pockets she found keys, an access card and a decent sized wallet.

  She inhaled deeply and unlocked the bedroom door. Now, it was time.

  The silent hallway, illuminated only by the dim spotlights running along the ceiling, greeted her. All the doors along the corridor were shut, some locked, and the occupants inside fast asleep. The darkness that surrounded her wasn’t an issue; she could walk these halls blindfolded and still find her way. Plus, the man visited her at the same inactive time every night, so as not to be found and caught — and she would do exactly the same.

  Her fingers glided along the magnolia walls in an attempt to stop her from racing down the corridor. Her heart drummed double-time and her chest heaved with her short, sharp breaths. She felt as though she stood at the beginning of a marathon, itching to hear the sound of the klaxon — the sound that would set her feet free and catapulting over the starting line. Whispering to herself to keep calm, knowing her mind and body needed to work together, she stopped at her first obstacle and reached inside her pocket. The badge holder now sat firmly on her waistband and she gripped the huge collection of keys in her hand.

  She pulled at the badge holder’s chain and rested the access card against the black box situated next to the door handle.
The light flashed from red to green. She stepped over the threshold into the main room and held her breath while her eyes scanned the area. The large TV stood idle in the corner of the room while the industrial wall clock seemed to cheer her on.

  Tick.

  You’ve got to get out of here.

  Tock.

  Almost there, not far to go.

  Tick.

  You’ve waited long enough.

  Tock.

  Although the CCTV camera focused on the main seating area, she took no chances and slowly closed the heavy door before flattening her back against the wall and sliding along it. She edged towards the lifts, willing her body and heart to slow down. A whistling tune from somewhere in the distance made her halt and close her eyes.

  Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

  The sound repeated, louder and louder, until it was the only thing drumming in her ears. Sucking in a lungful of air before opening her eyes, she continued slithering down her path. The cold wall came to an end and another CCTV camera was in place above her, monitoring access to the lifts and emergency exit. The other man, the one she had never seen, could peer at the CCTV screens at any moment. The cold bricks of the wall had offered some comfort, some security, and now, suddenly, she was too afraid to move from them. But the fear was fleeting as she thought about the naked bastard who could be found at any moment and what was waiting for her beyond this building. It was a gamble, but it was a gamble she had to take. Pushing herself from the wall and stroking the access card over the second black box, she fled through the door leading to the stairway. Panting, and without taking a moment to check her surroundings or if she was even alone, she descended the stairs two at a time; the thud of her heavy footprints and the beating of her heart deafened her.

  On the ground floor, she took a moment to catch her breath and stared at the main door — her goal. As expected, her path wasn’t clear; a bald muscular man sat in a cubicle surrounded by Perspex partitions. She couldn’t keep the grin from tugging at her lips; the fat monster upstairs had violated her but, ultimately, had been her escape route and had inadvertently set her up with all she needed to know. Now, she watched the muscular man sitting with his feet on the table, leaning back in the chair, his eyes not on the camera screens but on his phone — gambling, she had been told.

  To stay out of sight, she crouched and crawled closer to the main door. The thought of slicing his throat, too, had crossed her mind, but he was double her size — as was his weapon compared to hers. She needed to be clever. Calling on her inner logical self, she looked around, searching every inch of the area, and within seconds she was back on her feet. After racing across the corridor, she smashed the glass covering the red box with her elbow and pressed the emergency button, before dashing behind an adjacent machine.

  ‘Shit!’ the man screeched, barely audible over the siren, despite her now being so close to him that she could make out the tribal swirls of a tattoo snaking up from his shirt collar and around his thick neck.

  The alarm shrilled throughout the building and the man was on his feet, thundering into the centre of the room. He used his radio, calling out to the fat bastard, but no reply came.

  Tick.

  You’ve only got seconds.

  Tock.

  He’s going to find you.

  Tick.

  The others will be coming any moment.

  Tock.

  Muscle Man walked further away from her, towards the corridor she had just come from and reached for his access card. Chatter came over the radio; a woman’s voice that she didn’t recognise. But then, she’d seen so many people and heard so many voices.

  ‘What’s going on?’ the mystery woman squealed.

  ‘It’s the fire alarm. I’m checking it now.’

  ‘We have to get everyone out of here.’

  ‘Hang on…’ His voice was distant.

  It had to be now. She took flight from her hiding spot, darting towards the door like a soldier at war. The siren was a mere drone in the background as she slipped between the metal detectors.

  Access card swiped at the third and final machine, her hand steady and balanced, she then outstretched her hand holding the keys. She had five to choose from, but the decision was easy. The gold key slid in and turned the main lock with ease. She slipped out of the door and exhaled.

  The night sky was black; not one star glistened down as a beacon of hope, but at this point, hope was insignificant. The cameras no longer mattered. The keys dug into her flesh as she ran towards the iron gates — the largest silver key holding her freedom. The whistling wind mingled with her short and erratic breaths as she slammed her free hand against the cold steel.

  No one expects you to escape through the front door.

  Like a wild dog, she sprinted down Lambeth Palace Road towards Albert Embankment; the River Thames sang to her, the city she grew up in calling her home, away from her prison. For ten minutes she ran, never looking back, but her ears pricked for the slightest hint that someone was following her. She stopped at Lambeth Bridge, not to catch her breath — she could run for miles after preparing her body — but instead to appreciate her victory. She gulped in the cool air and groaned while releasing it slowly. Closing her eyes, she titled her head back and allowed the breeze to wash over her face.

  She was free.

  1

  Denis slid the blade across his cheek and flicked the excess foam peppered with fine, black stubble into the sink. Despite only approaching his fortieth birthday, Denis was old-school and preferred the traditional cut-throat shaving razor with its wooden flip-style handle and snapped-in-half razors over the modern electronic tools advertised everywhere for men these days.

  The single beep from his mobile phone did nothing to disturb his concentration as he whisked away the last few strands of stubble with military precision. Tilting his face from side to side, checking the short beard was as perfect as he could manage, Denis then wiped a towel over his face and stared at his reflection. He hated to admit it, but he knew his features mirrored those of his estranged father — the big dark eyes, the chiselled jawline and the light-brown complexion of his skin. He shook his head, discarding the image of the man he had to remind himself had no impact on his life, and instead pictured his mother, Philippa, the born and bred Londoner now enjoying retirement in the picturesque Lake District. Philippa had raised Denis single-handedly, guiding him along the crossroads of life — never forcing his direction, but always encouraging him to do his best and help others whenever he could. It was one of the reasons he had decided to join the Metropolitan Police. His mother was an inspiration to him, and one of the strongest women he knew. With the exception, of course, of his wife Elizabeth. And with the faces of the two women in his life staring back at him in his mind’s eye, his thoughts naturally wandered to Maggie, his daughter.

  A hollow pain attacked his chest, and he sucked in a lungful of air as though he’d just narrowly escaped the overwhelming aggression of a tidal wave. Flashbacks of that night assaulted his brain, causing him to grip onto the cold steadiness of the bathroom sink in the hope of keeping himself grounded. A heartache that never dulled or subsided, never healed with time or became a distant memory. His one demon in life, the shadow that followed and haunted him every single day, was that he hadn't saved his only child. He was forced to live with an injustice that he would never be able to forget or move on from. Heartbreaking, he thought, how the simple task of shaving brought Maggie to his mind — how so many menial tasks did every day — and yet how, before she died, he was a stranger to the life-changing experiences taking place in her life.

  Denis’s mobile sprung to life again, this time, two text messages and a phone call in quick succession succeeded in piercing his thoughts. He grabbed it from where it sat on the closed toilet seat and, recognising the station’s number, swiped at the green bar on his phone.

  ‘Detective Inspector Hamilton.’

  ‘Guv, it’s me,’ replied the voice on the other en
d.

  ‘Clarke, what are you doing in the office this early?’

  ‘My car’s gone in for a service, thought I might as well come straight in, although I haven’t had breakfast yet—’

  ‘I’m assuming you didn’t call to update me on your eating schedule,’ Hamilton interrupted as he walked out of the bathroom and downstairs.

  Detective Sergeant Lewis Clarke, the suave bachelor of Hamilton’s Murder Investigation Team, had been his partner for four, coming up five, years. Although polar opposites in personality, looks and character, they worked well together, sharing a balanced bond between conventional and quirky. Recently, however, Hamilton had made more of an effort to work closely with the two newer members of his team, Detective Constable Robbie “Rocky” O’Conner and DS Yasmine Dixon; but, he had to admit, he missed his partner’s laid-back attitude in the face of tragedy — something they were presented with on a daily basis.