Angels

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Angels Page 16

by Jay Gill

I adjusted the flowers a little, for no real reason. Then, I walked silently back to the car where I sat for good while before heading back to Scotland Yard.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  With Monica away in France to finalise her new position and iron out the details of her new role, I decided it would be a good opportunity to talk to Alice and Faith about something that had been on my mind.

  I booked a hotel and we drove to the south coast. We spent Saturday at the beach, building sandcastles, collecting shells and taking a dip in the sea. The girls didn’t seem to notice the icy water and they assured me that once you’d acclimatised it wasn’t so bad. I’m not so sure that’s true.

  After showering and changing at the hotel we went out again. We walked along the quayside eating fish and chips. We ate and we talked and watched the boats coming and going. We stopped and spoke to families dotted around the quay. Some were using crab-lines to catch small, angry-looking crabs.

  We found a bench and sat down opposite the Sunseeker plant and pointed out which boat we dreamed of owning – once we’d won the lottery, of course.

  ‘Must be lovely living down here,’ I said. I wasn’t sure how to start, and this seemed as good a way as any. ‘I bet the schools are good. It must be nice being able to go to the beach after school; in the summer, that is.’

  Alice and Faith started whispering and giggling.

  ‘Daddy, you’re so obvious,’ said Alice. ‘We saw you looking at the houses to rent on your phone.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I said innocently. They were on to me.

  ‘Are we moving to the seaside?’ said Faith. ‘Can we live here? Can we get a puppy as well?’

  ‘Would you like to live here?’ I ventured. ‘Wouldn’t you miss London and all your friends?’

  Alice and Faith turned away from me again and started whispering.

  ‘What does Monica think?’ said Alice.

  Faith crossed her arms and tilted her head in that knowing way she has. ‘You haven’t told her we’re moving, have you?’ she said, narrowing her eyes at me.

  I wasn’t prepared for that one. ‘I need to talk to her about it. I thought it was important we talk first.’

  ‘What you need to do is tell her you love her, Daddy,’ said Alice. ‘Then we should talk, all of us together.’

  Faith nodded in agreement. ‘Together,’ she added.

  ‘Putting aside the fact I messed up, again, can I assume then that you guys are okay with the idea in principle?’

  ‘Yes,’ they said in unison.

  ‘What about all your friends?’

  ‘They’ll make new ones,’ said Faith, which made us all laugh.

  ‘They’ll want to visit,’ said Alice. ‘Which is kinda cool. In between, we can WhatsApp or Skype. No real difference to how we hang out now.’

  ‘Will you still be a policeman?’ asked Faith.

  ‘That’s a really good question. I’m going to be a consultant for the police, and I’ll speak at conferences and train other officers. It means we can live pretty much wherever we want. It’ll be different. It’ll be quieter, I hope. Most importantly, it means more time with you two. And that is the main reason for wanting to move.’ More time with my babies was what mattered most to me right now and I just hoped Monica would join us and make it perfect.

  Alice and Faith hugged me, and that was answer enough. My mind was made up in that moment. Faith looked at me again with those big, beautiful eyes of hers.

  ‘Can we get a puppy? We can take it to the beach. We’ll get one that likes the water. I’ll look it up on the internet and do all the research. I’ll find out which puppy is best, don’t worry.’

  ‘We’ll see,’ I said.

  ‘That means no,’ said Alice.

  ‘It means we’ll see,’ I said. ‘Let’s take it all one step at a time.’

  ‘Monica is coming as well, isn’t she?’ said Alice. The two girls watched me intently. They seemed to sense something but didn’t know what.

  ‘I hope so,’ I said. It was all I could say right now.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she comes. We’ll come up with a plan. I mean, she has to come with us, doesn’t she?’ said Alice.

  ‘Monica might have other plans.’ I thought I should prepare them. ‘It’s best I speak to her first, before you do. Is that okay? It’s important you don’t say anything until I’ve talked to her.’

  ‘You promise you won’t mess it up?’ said Alice, who seems to have recently taken on the role of mini-mother.

  ‘You promise you’ll tell us as soon as she says yes?’ said Faith.

  ‘I promise,’ I said.

  So far so good. Now, I just needed to convince Monica that we all loved and needed her.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  The nightmares were getting worse; at times of stress they always did. The intensity and vividness caused him actual physical pain. They took him right back to when it all happened. Cutler remembered being pulled away from Amanda as they took her body from the house.

  Sometimes, it’s the little things you remember. A female paramedic’s blonde ponytail. The wet smell of a policeman’s coat folded over the back of a dining chair. The sound of hushed voices in the kitchen, which stopped when he walked in. The taste of a sickly-sweet Cherry Bakewell when Mum was too sad to cook dinner, again.

  Most of all, he remembered the feelings of sickening sadness. The sadness of knowing his sister would never comfort him or put her arm around him and twiddle his hair. The sadness of knowing she would never again tickle him until he nearly wet himself. The sadness of never sharing his secrets with her, or hearing her slam the bathroom door or having her listen to his dark thoughts of killing Dad.

  He was taking time off from work. He had plenty of holiday time accrued and he’d not taken a sick day in almost five years, so he was sure head office would be fine about it. Right now, he just needed some space.

  He took out the box of Cassley Shoes Grand Prize Tickets and started looking for a candidate. Recent events had been a distraction. In hindsight, he felt he’d overreached and had put himself in jeopardy. For years he’d ticked along under the radar. Killing Peter, Nicole and Patrick had been wholly undisciplined. Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should, he chided himself. Just because something is a pleasure doesn’t mean it’s good for you.

  Cutler needed to return to his safe place, to keeping a low profile. He needed to put some distance between himself and recent. . . He searched for the word. Showy. Recent showy events.

  In among the tickets he hoped he’d find her. More than ever, she must remind him of Amanda. Only someone extra special would do this time. She’d help him get back to where he needed to be. Amanda had always known what was best for him. Once he’d spoken to her again and was calm inside, he could focus on getting Melanie and his boys back.

  Melanie still hadn’t made contact, and that worried him. She’d never been gone this long before without letting him know she was safe. He parked those thoughts for now. One thing at a time.

  He studied the tickets as though his life depended on it.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  I watched Rayner yawn and it made me yawn. I tried to stifle it back but couldn’t. With only seven hours’ sleep between us in the last seventy-two hours, we were dead on our feet. The problem was, we just couldn’t stop. The adrenaline was pumping and the investigation now felt like a roller coaster plunging headlong down its tracks. The more we analysed the life of Michael Cutler, the more convinced we became that this unassuming family man was our guy. I’d pulled in extra help to get the background checking done as fast as possible, and I still felt we were going too slowly. No one wanted to nail Cutler more than I did, but I knew the best way to do it was to do it right. I wanted no mistakes. Cutler had to be locked up for the rest of his life.

  Our enquiries showed that Cutler, the Angel Killer, had moved around a lot before finally marrying five years ago. At that point, he’d taken a full-ti
me job as regional manager at Cassley Shoes, and this, to my mind, was no coincidence. His job gave him the opportunity to move from town to town.

  My whole team were working on piecing together as much of his early life as possible. Making careful phone calls to his friends, girlfriends, colleagues, landlords, neighbours and employers. Checking, double checking, cross referencing and documenting.

  Anyone or anything that built the picture of Cutler’s life was important. It was painstaking work. Frustrating and slow at times, but, equally, rewarding every time one of us got a piece to help build the puzzle. Those moments lifted our spirits and spurred us on and kept us going. Each fragment felt like a big win.

  With most of the groundwork in place, Rayner and I focused on investigating unsolved murders that coincided with Cutler’s time in a given area. As soon as we heard of a town Cutler had stay at or lived in or visited, we investigated. We checked the national database and followed up by contacting local detectives. It wasn’t long before a pattern emerged, and we eventually uncovered more victims with similarities to the Angel Killer murders.

  I called Rayner over and showed him what I had. ‘That’s it. I’ve got Cutler in Edinburgh and Glasgow eight years ago and during that period alone, three women disappeared. The cases were never solved. The lead detective I spoke to in Glasgow remembers one of the victims had her wrists slit for her and then her arms were folded over her chest, post-mortem. He’s making some calls for us and checking the other two cases.’

  I could see Rayner was ready to go pick Cutler up. ‘I’ve got him in Carmarthenshire, Swansea, Aberystwyth and about a half dozen small towns dotted all over Wales between 2009 and 2011. So far there are eleven possibles that fit the profile of our Angels. How the hell did this nobody fly under the radar for so long?’

  ‘That’s just it – he’s a nobody. Mr Beige, Mr Average. To look at him and speak to him, you’d never guess he was any different to anyone else.

  ‘Then again, how many times have we said the same thing? The killers with an ego or with something to prove are the easiest to catch. They can’t resist putting on a show. This guy, though – whatever’s motivating him, it isn’t for anyone else’s benefit. The compulsion is for his own very personal need.’

  ‘I don’t care what his motives are. Let’s go and talk to him. I’m ready to sit him down and squeeze him,’ insisted Rayner.

  I was ahead of Rayner on this one but I had concerns.

  ‘If we’re going to do this, let’s do it quietly, just you and me. A big operation risks alerting him. If this guy gets a whiff of what’s going on and gets nervous, he could vanish. Then he could go on killing, undetected, for another ten or twenty years. Neither of us wants that on our conscience.’

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  I was on edge as we sat across the street watching the Angel Killer’s house. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to get Michael Cutler off the streets. How he’d managed to go undetected, killing at will, for at least a decade was a question we’d ask ourselves another day. There would be time enough later to identify investigative mistakes, and right now that was of no interest to me.

  I kept the car ice-cold. We were both fighting exhaustion and we needed to stay alert. The strong coffee and Mars bars helped, but we were really feeling it as we sat idly watching the house.

  ‘Do you think his wife had any idea?’ asked Rayner.

  ‘I doubt it. Probably not. How could she?’ I didn’t like to think she was a party to what Cutler was capable of. It was especially hard to imagine she knew anything of his crime when she was a mother of two young boys.

  ‘I’m just wondering why she left him. Why now?’

  Rayner had a good point; it did seem like a coincidence. ‘Maybe his behaviour has changed and she didn’t like what she was seeing. She felt scared, perhaps? Maybe for herself or for the boys? Don’t know. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’ I looked at my watch. ‘Where is this bloke?’

  Rayner smiled. ‘I was just thinking about the saying: It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for. I reckon Cutler is a good example of that, wouldn’t you say?’

  Before I could answer, we both caught sight of a blue Ford Mondeo approaching from behind.

  ‘I think this is our boy,’ I said.

  The car slowed as it approached the house, then stopped. Rayner and I sank down in our seats. But instead of parking, the car started moving again and then began to gather speed. We watched as it paused at the traffic lights at the end of the road and then took a right turn.

  ‘He’s made us,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘How the hell did he see us? Did something spook him? We need to stop him.’ I sat up in the seat, put the car in gear and pulled out onto the road.

  This was the worst possible outcome. We couldn’t leave him free to continue his killing spree. All I could think now was that I’d made a mistake; perhaps we should have looked at a large-scale approach to take him down. I shook it off. I accelerated up to the junction and, ignoring the lights, took a right turn. I could hear Rayner calling for backup and giving the description and number plate of the Mondeo.

  ‘There – three cars ahead, in front of that dark grey Peugeot,’ he barked at me.

  ‘I see him.’ I accelerated again but got blocked by a cyclist and couldn’t get round. I didn’t want to hit the siren yet, as I wasn’t close enough. And if it wasn’t us that had spooked him, I didn’t want to give away any element of surprise we still might have. Instead, I leaned on the car’s horn. The cyclist turned and looked at me. Quite possibly with justification, he gave me the finger. To his credit, he did give me space to get round, and as we passed, he left me in no doubt of what he thought of me and my driving.

  Once again, I put my foot down. For a moment I thought we’d lost Cutler but as we approached, I could see he’d stopped up ahead at another set of traffic lights. I slowed up, and as I did so Rayner flung open his door, leapt out and ran alongside the traffic to the blue Mondeo.

  I abandoned the car and followed him. This was it: I could feel it. We had him. I was running as fast as I could on the left side of the traffic, and I could see Rayner on the right side of the Mondeo, pulling open the driver’s door.

  As I arrived at the car, I could see Rayner with his hands on his head, looking in all different directions.

  ‘He’s gone. The bloody car’s empty. He’s taken off on foot. Shit.’

  All around us car horns started blaring. Police sirens wailed some way off as squad cars approached. Rayner and I ignored everything around us as we ran back and forth, frantically trying to find any sign of where Cutler had gone. It was no use. We’d missed our chance. I’d messed up. He’d vanished. All I could think now was that if he killed again it’d be on me. I could have stopped him, but I’d screwed up.

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Cutler got out of the car and ran. As he’d approached the house, something felt wrong. It had been instinct, a sixth sense, luck, divine intervention, call it what you will. Something had told him to go once more round the block. If he hadn’t made the decision to keep going, he’d most likely been in a cell right now.

  Looking in the rear-view mirror, he’d seen the car following him. He saw it swerve to avoid a cyclist and he knew instantly it was the police. At the traffic lights he’d tried to edge out into the road, to keep moving, but it was no use. The road was gridlocked. Instead, he grabbed his bag and got out. He ran as fast as he could while lugging everything he had. He didn’t know where he was headed and that didn’t matter. All that mattered at that moment was to put space between him and his pursuers.

  He was sitting at the counter of a coffee shop now, catching his breath.

  ‘Are you okay, honey?’ said the waitress. ‘You look like a little lost lamb.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. Are you wanting to close?’

  ‘We’re open for another hour, sweetheart. You’re fine. Can I
get you anything?’

  ‘Another coffee would be great. Thank you. Americano please, no milk.’

  ‘Coming right up.’ The waitress, who reminded him of a plump, motherly Susan Sarandon, cleared tables around him before returning a few minutes later with fresh coffee. ‘You know, whatever it is, I bet it isn’t half as bad as you think it is.’

  ‘Unfortunately, I think I’ve come to the end of the road. I’ve now just got to figure out which of all the poor choices ahead of me to take.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that, honey.’

  ‘Don’t be. I’ve been a bit of a monster, and knowing it’s almost over is somewhat of a relief.’

  The waitress laughed and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m sure a sweet-looking young man like you could never have been that bad. Perhaps you just need to go home to your family and talk it over. Let them know how you’re feeling. Most of us don’t share our feelings half as much as we should, not even to our nearest and dearest.’

  Cutler nursed his coffee and stared out into the high street. It took him a while to figure out what he had to do, but eventually he understood. It was time to pay Melanie and his boys one last visit.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Alice and Faith had kept the secret. They whispered advice, tactics and instructions before Mum and Dad whisked them away. They also made me promise I’d call them as soon as I had any news, good or bad.

  Monica was back from France and I had somehow managed to organise cover with Rayner so I could take her to Dorset. She assumed this was nothing more than an opportunity to relax together by the coast. We both hoped for some grown-up time; a nice meal and a romantic walk or two.

  I think Monica assumed I was visiting Dorset to speak to local police. I’d recently been part of a team aiming to arrest serial killer Vladimir ‘The Wolf’ Kastrati, who was living in a luxury home in Sandbanks. During the raid things had gone a little sideways, and I think Monica believed my choice of Dorset had something to do with that. She didn’t like to ask too many questions about my work, and that worked in my favour right now.

 

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