‘Who?’
‘Patsy,’ she said, worried for the dog.
‘Your other neighbour just came over. He offered to take her off our hands.’
‘Okay, good. Greg’s nice. Has kids,’ Miller said.
‘Just a few questions, all right?’
‘Of course.’ Miller took a deep breath.
‘When did you last see Li?’
‘On Sunday. We went to the Christmas parade together. She worked that Sunday afternoon – at the Kowhai. But Len fired her.’
‘What did you touch in there?’
‘Not much. I didn’t touch her body.’ An image of Li came to her again. ‘The front door. I leaned against her bedroom door. Used her phone – her landline. I think that’s it. Oh, I threw up in the toilet,’ Miller said, a hand on her mouth.
‘Was she safety-conscious?’
‘I think all women living on their own are.’
‘So she wouldn’t let someone into her house she didn’t know?’
‘I wouldn’t think so.’
‘Had she mentioned anything about threats, anyone following her, strange behaviour?’
‘No. But Len mentioned she quit her job at the Kowhai on Sunday. It sounded like that got a bit heated.’ Miller sipped her coffee, and her hands started shaking again. She looked up at Kahu. ‘How long’s this going to go on for?’ She took a deep shuddering breath. ‘He’s a day early. It’s always Thursday night. He kills them on Thursday night, and I get the letter on Friday. That’s how it goes. That’s right, isn’t it? Is he getting impatient? Are they going to come quicker and more often now?’ She knew she was rambling.
Kahu was silent, his eyes on Ash. Miller looked at Ash’s face. Eyes wide. Stunned.
‘Shit,’ Miller said, realising what she’d said.
‘You’ve been getting letters from him?’ Ash asked, frowning.
‘Sorry. Sorry, Kahu. Ash, I couldn’t tell you. It was part of the investigation. And Bull knows. I thought you should know. But Kahu said we should keep it quiet...’
‘God, I don’t care about that Mills. Shit, I can’t believe you’ve been going through all that. Why’s he writing to you?’ She reached out for Miller’s hand.
Miller looked at Kahu and he nodded. ‘I got the first letter the night after he killed Tamara. I’ve received one each time he’s killed a woman. He had this idea I can make him famous.’
‘He wants you to write about him? Why? Everyone’s already out there doing that.’
‘The whole Castle Bay thing, I think. He wants to tell me his story so I can share it with the world.’
Kahu rose. ‘I need to get back over there. Sergeant—’
‘Call me Ash.’
‘Ash, are you okay to stay with Miller?’
‘Of course.’
Ash walked Kahu to the door and Miller went into the lounge and looked out the front window. She could already see Li’s driveway being cordoned off – it was Madi Nilson all over again. Within minutes a crowd had gathered, edging against the cordon. The plastic tape could be broken through or ducked under, but it held the power to hold back the throng. People held cell phones in the air, recording suited and booted forensic technicians moving in and out of the house. An older woman was watching a young man who was recording it all, his head moving to the right every now and then to take in the scene in real time. She shook her head at him in disgust and turned back to the action. You’re just as bad, Miller thought.
Kahu appeared back at the lounge door. ‘One more thing. Did you hear anything last night?’
Miller was silent, thinking. ‘I didn’t hear anything. No raised voices, no screaming. When you told me about the other victims, I thought surely their neighbours heard something. How could something like that happen twenty metres from me and I didn’t even know it?’ She shook her head. ‘She was supposed to go to China yesterday. I thought she’d left. I never got to say goodbye.’ Miller buried her head in her hands. I don’t even know when she was killed. I saw her house closed up yesterday morning and didn’t think anything of it, just assumed she’d already left – but … she was in there … like that. I could’ve–’
‘Hey,’ Ash said, joining her on the couch. ‘Don’t blame yourself. There’s only one person to blame for this. Let Kahu and his team do their thing and get some answers.’ Ash nodded at Kahu, giving him the okay to leave.
‘Oh god, her poor family,’ Miller groaned. ‘They’ll be expecting her.’
‘Don’t worry. We’ll make sure they’re informed,’ Ash said. ‘I’ll go make you a fresh cup of coffee.’
Miller lay down on the couch, pulling her legs up to her chest. Her radio alarm clicked on in her bedroom and she heard the two perky hosts halfway through a conversation, admonishing those who hadn’t done their Christmas shopping yet and that there were only four more sleeps to go.
‘Fuck Christmas,’ Miller said in a small voice. ‘Fuck it all.’
Chapter 37
On Friday morning Cassie opened her eyes and stretched. It was past nine and she wasn’t due in at work till one. Tiff was already up from the sounds of kitchen cupboards being opened and slammed shut. She hauled herself out of bed and pulled the curtains.
‘Another glorious day in sunny Lentford,’ she thought, watching the river as it cruised past, muddy brown, on its way to somewhere no doubt more important.
She walked into the lounge to see Tiff in the kitchen, a rare occurrence.
‘Sit,’ Tiff said, pointing a spatula at her. ‘At the table.’ She turned back to the stove.
Cassie grinned and seated herself at the table where there was orange juice and a plunger full of black coffee. She poured herself a cup.
‘What are you up to?’ Cassie asked. Since they’d been living together Cassie had done most of the cooking, and cleaning come to that.
‘A treat for my love,’ Tiff said, bringing over a plate of pancakes and maple syrup.
‘What did I do to deserve this?’ Cassie said, beyond elated that Tiff was doing something for her.
Tiff shrugged, smiling and seated herself opposite Cassie.
‘Mum always used to make us pancakes on Sunday mornings,’ Cassie said. ‘How about you? Any family traditions?’ For weeks now Cassie had tried to pry information out of Tiff about her family, with no luck. A couple of days ago Tiff grudgingly admitted they lived in a ‘mansion on River Road in Hamilton. River views. Flash cars. Nice clothes. Just not much love or attention for their only daughter’.
‘Yeah right,’ Tiff laughed, her mouth full of pancake and syrup. ‘We didn’t have family traditions, Cass. From as far back as I can remember they didn’t care about me. I had two older brothers, amazing at everything they turned their hand to – sport, school – then I came along, an absolute underachiever. Not worth spending any time on.’
‘Tiff...’ Cassie said, a hand on hers.
‘So what do you think about getting out of here?’ Tiff asked, shovelling more food into her mouth.
‘What do you mean, get out of here?’ Cassie asked, going with the change of subject. ‘I’ve got work today. But like a weekend away?’ She tried the pancakes. They were amazing, soft and fluffy, still warm, drowning in syrup.
‘No, like for good,’ Tiff said.
‘Why? Where would we go? I’ve got my course starting in February. I’m guessing you don’t want to live in Hamilton?’
‘There’s no way I’m living in the same city as my parents. Why do you even want to do the course? We could leave here. Go to Wellington or Auckland, or even the South Island.’
This was completely out of left field. ‘Where would we get the money? We have no savings, even with Dad picking up the rent. We have no money to pack up and move.’
‘Your dad,’ Tiff said, as if it was a no-brainer.
It annoyed Cassie the way Tiff expected her f
ather to foot the bill. ‘I want to do the course because I’m sick of scrounging off Dad and of living in the past. I need to move on.’
‘What? You don’t care about who murdered your mum anymore?’ Tiff’s tone was accusatory.
Cassie sat back in her chair, shocked. ‘Of course I care. Why would you say that? It’s just since Mum’s body was found I’ve been at a standstill while I went on a ridiculous mission to find Karl Taylor. I want more. Mum would’ve wanted more for me. I feel I’m letting her down living like this.’
Tiff got up and took her plate to the kitchen, leaving Cassie’s empty plate where it was.
‘What? Your mum would’ve wanted more for you? Like having a job and living with your girlfriend’s such a bad thing.’ Tiff stood in front of her now, her face tense.
‘Don’t be stupid. You know I didn’t mean it like that,’ Cassie said, reaching for Tiff’s hand.
The punch came from nowhere, and left Cassie’s right cheekbone feeling as though it was on fire. She put a hand to her face, in shock.
‘Don’t. Call. Me. Stupid.’
Dazed, Cassie got up and moved to the other side of the room. She felt the tears coming. How could Tiff do that?
There was silence in the room with just Cassie’s sobs echoing around the lounge.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tiff said, walking towards her, arms out as if trying to placate a stray dog. ‘Shit, Cass, I’m so sorry.’ Cassie heard her choke back a sob. ‘I can’t believe I did that.’
Cassie looked into Tiff’s eyes, seeing the hurt and confusion there. She knew Tiff didn’t mean to hit her.
Tiff enveloped Cassie in a hug, and Cassie wrapped her arms around Tiff and held on. Because if she didn’t, who knew where she’d end up.
Chapter 38
Miller sat at the kitchen table on Friday morning staring at the bottle of wine in front of her. She felt suitably numb. Not from the alcohol – none had touched her lips, not yet – but from lack of sleep, shock. She’d talked with the police after they went over Li’s house yesterday and took away her small, lifeless body. She’d given her statement. They didn’t need her fingerprints: those were already on file from last time. Madi.
She thought of Kahu, couldn’t imagine the pressure he was under. The need for the Scarf Killer to be caught was taking up every part of his life, as well as Miller’s. He had to be caught. Miller knew, one way or the other, it would be over soon.
She’d dozed on the couch and had woken up sweating under the throw in the lounge. Grabbing her keys, she’d driven to the supermarket, filled her basket with ready-meals, even thinking to get a special frozen roast meal for Christmas Day, which was pathetic, and found herself in the wine aisle. She’d grabbed the nearest bottle, looking left and right, as if she was shoplifting, and paid at the checkout. She’d eaten her macaroni and cheese last night with the wine in front of her. She’d gone to bed soon after, leaving the wine where it was and tossed and turned for the rest of the night, realising that this was it. She’d reached a point where the need for it was so strong, she couldn’t talk herself out of it. The reasons to drink were starting to outweigh the reasons not to.
She ran her finger down the edge of the bottle. It was a pinot noir from Central Otago. A good one. Was she going to ruin the last one hundred and eighty-seven days of sobriety? They’d been so hard, every single one of them. But she’d done it and on her own. But who could blame her now? Wasn’t she allowed a slip-up every now and then?
Just a glass. Just a sip.
She looked at her mum’s photo in front of her. Tried to imagine what she’d say. What words of comfort would take the painful craving away, but that didn’t help. She eased herself up from her seat and went into the bathroom. Looking at her reflection she ignored her cut lip, the sad eyes and the dark smudges below them and looked at her scar.
Nothing.
That little twinge of guilt wasn’t there today as it had been since she’d got it.
It’s because nothing matters.
Li was dead. Emmeline, Tamara, Madi. He was playing with her now, teasing her. He had total control and she was well aware she was losing any control she possessed. She ran back into the kitchen, grabbed the bottle by the neck and twisted the screw cap off. She closed her eyes, breathing in. The sweet, citrus notes made her mouth water.
There was a knock on the door, and she froze, caught in the act. Was it Kahu? She couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face. She listened. Maybe they’d gone away. She looked at the bottle in her hand then started as there was another knock, one after the other, getting louder and louder.
‘Fuck.’ Miller put the lid back on the bottle and pushed it to the back of the pantry and stalked down the hallway. ‘This better be fucking good.’ She wrenched the door open and came face to face with Cassie, head down, hands playing with the bracelet on her arm.
‘Cassie? Are you okay?’ Back into caring mode, thought Miller. Cassie’s upset. You can help. It’s what you do.
‘Sorry to come round like this,’ Cassie sniffed as Miller ushered her inside.
‘Cassie, what’s happened to your face?’ Miller asked, noting the red mark on her cheekbone.
Cassie touched her face and she winced. ‘I didn’t realise it left a mark. I just threw some clothes on and came here.’
‘Tiffany?’
Cassie nodded, and fresh tears started. ‘She hit me. She started talking about moving away and me not doing my course next year. I told her she was being stupid and—’
‘Come on, come into the kitchen and we’ll get an ice pack on that.’
Cassie sat at the kitchen table while Miller wrapped an ice pack in a tea towel and handed it to her, then put the kettle on.
Cassie sighed as Miller deposited teabags into two mugs. ‘I feel like nothing’s going right. Ever since I’ve been in Lentford I’ve told myself I’m happy, that Tiff’s great. I didn’t see what she was really like. Because, believe me, there were signs. I didn’t think it strange that I’d chosen to live in some backwater where my mother’s body was discovered. I knew Dad thought it was, but he let me get on – I was always good at talking him into stuff. But I’ve talked myself into believing all this is normal when really, it’s so far from normal it’s laughable. I don’t even know who I am, Miller.’
She took the mug from Miller and placed it on the table. ‘With Mum, and then all the craziness over Karl Taylor, then hooking up with Tiff who, I might add, I thought was the love of my life, but I’ve just had a bit of sense knocked into me, literally. I have no idea who I am – Cassie whose mum was murdered. Cassie who can’t function without a girlfriend. Cassie whose girlfriend beats her up.’
Miller placed her hand on top of Cassie’s. ‘I get it,’ Miller said, wondering if she actually did. ‘Look, I may have some news.’ She remembered Karl Taylor and her trip to Shady Oaks on Wednesday. So much had gone on since then she’d completely forgotten about what he’d said.
Cassie looked up, hopeful. ‘Karl Taylor? Did someone come forward?’
‘Kind of. I still need to look into it. But remember Karl Taylor from the old people’s home that you visited? He read the article and I think he might have recognised the identikit. He went a bit strange, started rambling about his grandson, how he was a bad seed and he was even frightened of him. I questioned him, tried to get a name, something, anything from him, but I think he realised he’d said too much. He became worried I was going to call the cops.’
‘So you honestly think this Karl Taylor’s grandson could’ve killed Mum?’ Cassie said, eyes wide.
‘I don’t know,’ Miller said, not wanting to get her hopes up. ‘I’ve got an address for his daughter, Amanda, so I’m going to go see her. Today,’ Miller said, a plan forming.
‘Thanks for this.’ A wave of Cassie’s hand encompassed the tea and ice pack. ‘I’d better get going. I’
ve got work this afternoon.’
‘Cassie, if you need a place to stay, you’re welcome here. If you need to get away from Tiff for a bit.’ Or forever, thought Miller.
‘It’s okay. It was a stupid fight. I do have some things to think about, though.’ Cassie got up from the table and Miller walked her out. ‘Let me know what happens, would you? No matter how small, even if it turns out to be nothing.’
‘I’ll let you know,’ Miller said.
Cassie stopped at the front door, bending down. She held an envelope out to Miller. ‘For you?’
Miller froze, then frowned. She thanked Cassie and took the envelope.
‘Catch up soon, Cassie,’ she said, already preoccupied with what might be inside the envelope.
She grabbed a pair of latex gloves from her satchel and took the letter into the kitchen and opened it at the dining room table. This time she didn’t feel scared – she felt angry. The gall of him. He’d delivered this letter during Cassie’s visit. There were still cops coming and going from Li’s house next door. Miller had always thought he’d show his hand, want to be captured at some stage, because how else would everyone know who he was. In his mind he was a criminal mastermind, managing to kill four women while evading the police.
Miller, it wasn’t me. This one wasn’t me. Someone’s copying me. What do they say, ‘Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery’? I don’t buy that. It’s a cop-out. Unoriginal. I’ve done all the work. I’ve certainly made myself a name – and not just in Lentford – but all around New Zealand people are gagging to find out who I am. And I know you are too. I’m done. It’s over. I’m not an animal. This was never going to go on and on. There were only ever going to be three. See you soon.
Miller refolded the letter and put it back into the envelope. She grabbed her phone and satchel and set off to track down Kahu.
She entered the police station and smiled with relief when she saw Ash on the desk. ‘I’ve had another letter.’
‘Shit.’ Ash’s eyes flicked towards the double doors and back again.
‘Is Kahu here?’
The Murder Club (A Miller Hatcher Novel Book 2) Page 25