Scorned

by Denver Murphy

  ‘Clear!’ one of them called out, patting their assailant down.

  ‘Let me see him!’ Ruby said, resisting the temptation to attempt to push her way through and risk having one of the policemen turn his gun on her.

  ‘Her,’ the officer directly in front said, standing up. ‘He is a she.’

  Ruby’s confusion at what she was being told lasted the merest of seconds because, with her view no longer obscured, she could see the face angled up towards her.

  It was the girl she had first seen outside the house on Lavender Crescent; it was Lexie.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  It had been a long wait for Scott to come home but that was okay as far as Kate was concerned. She had needed some time to settle on an appropriate weapon to use. The kitchen was nowhere near as well equipped as David’s and the most solid instrument she could find was an as yet unused rolling pin her mother had given her. Thumping it into the palm of her hand, she figured that it was suitably weighty but eventually rejected it for fear it had connotations of domestic violence; something she was keen to avoid.

  But she had needed to keep on searching in a similar vein, because something more specialist like a hammer from the toolbox in the shed or the wheel wrench from where the spare wheel was kept in the car they shared, would require cleaning and replacing again before she could call the police. Kate didn’t know how accurately the forensics could determine the time of death but she didn’t want to risk blowing a hole in her story by the timeline of events not fitting.

  She needed a mundane item – either something that could have fallen to hand by the would-be attacker, or could easily be hidden to imply it had been brought into the house and taken away again when the gang fled.

  Then it occurred to Kate. In one of the spare bedrooms the was a seldom-used set of golf clubs; a gift Scott had requested a couple of Christmases ago. Now that Kate thought of it, she wondered whether his temporary rediscovery of the sport he hadn’t played since his mid-teens had merely been a way to create a suitable cover when conducting his affairs; something he had abandoned when he had decided that he need not be nearly so discreet.

  Hefting them downstairs and placing them in the hallway, as though they were there to wait for his next game, part of Kate wished her suspicion about their purchase was true because it would provide a delicious irony that a mechanism for his infidelity would see to his downfall.

  Gaining reassurance that she could now act should he happen to return earlier than expected, she slipped on some gloves before sifting through the clubs. Her limited knowledge of golf led her to immediately select the biggest but after she withdrew the driver from its fluffy cover, she was disappointed to find it wasn’t nearly as heavy as the size of the head suggested. Laughing to think that Scott’s supposed attacker would be so choosy in his approach, she reached for an iron instead. Kate couldn’t fathom why there were so many of the things, with the only differentiator she could make out being the number on the side.

  She went for a 6-iron for the simple fact it was in the middle and carried it up with her as she went to prepare the attic. She readied the steps to speed her ascent when the time came.

  Walking into their bedroom in order to find something to do that she could be in the middle of when the attack came, her focus was drawn to the bed. Although they bought it before their wedding day, it was still their marital bed. It was meant to be a symbol of their commitment, forsaking all others, but Scott had chosen to desecrate it with his despicable activities.

  Deciding that she would be in the process of changing the sheets when Scott met his doom was again another way of maintaining the synergy of what was happening. Kate couldn’t remember which of Newton’s laws it was meant to be but she could recall the science lesson when she was taught that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. ‘What’s done is done,’ she said to herself, with her only regret being that she needed to make the house look like it had been ransacked. Kate wasn’t especially house proud, but she didn’t like being forced into something so destructive on an evening that was meant to be about reconstruction. But that wouldn’t stop her doing a better job of it than she had in David’s flat; now she understood the true purpose of it she would make it appear as though the house had been given a thorough going over. That Scott had never seen fit to shower her with expensive jewellery would only add to the sense that anything of value had been taken.

  Once in position, it was another full hour before Kate heard Scott’s return. The motionless way she had sat there might have been described as meditative by anyone who had observed her, but the reality was more like a television going on standby. Neither awake nor strictly asleep, she merely existed during that time – her mind no longer needing to consider what was to come, and using the wait as an opportunity to recharge itself in preparation for what was sure to be a long night.

  * * *

  The simple sound of Scott’s key being inserted into a lock was sufficient to restore all previous functions and, without a moment’s hesitation, Kate rose from her resting position clutching the 6-iron.

  ‘It’s me,’ he called cheerily as the door opened.

  Kate didn’t allow a flicker of recognition to cross her face.

  ‘What are these doing here?’ His voice was lower and accompanied by the door closing. ‘Are you okay, love?’ Louder again, followed by footsteps heading down the hallway towards the kitchen.

  ‘Hi, Scott.’ Her own speech sounded alien to Kate’s ears; almost mechanical.

  ‘Oh, you’re…’ The words stopped as Scott turned to his wife. It may have been the sight of the raised golf club but it was Kate’s expressionless face that met him and hard stare that drew his attention.

  ‘How’s Donna?’ A simple question, almost conversational in its delivery, but enough for Kate to see the implication reflected in Scott’s face. She took the lack of his arms being raised as indication he accepted his fate.

  Perhaps he also understood the full implication of Newton’s law.

  When Scott had been trying to convince her to buy the house, he had extolled the virtues of older properties. Where she had seen shoddy wiring and dated units, he had spoken about character features and larger plots. But one thing she did like was the extra space the high ceilings gave; something she appreciated now more than ever as it allowed her to fully swing the 6-iron over her head, building up maximum speed until it reached its final destination.

  Kate didn’t know what she had expected as metal struck bone, but shows like The Walking Dead had led her to believe it would be more than a solid thunk, with only the merest of divots created in Scott’s skull. Although it may not have been the visceral experience part of her longed for, the effect was still dramatic, causing her husband’s knees to instantly buckle and him to collapse against the wall and slide to the floor.

  Kate moved to stand over him, keen to know whether she would find the same sightless eyes as she had experienced with David. Scott did appear to be staring into the distance at something only he could see, but as the first trickle of blood emerged from his hairline and ran down his forehead, his eyes suddenly flicked towards her.

  ‘Ug,’ was all he could utter, with his tongue lolling out the instant he opened his mouth. Kate smiled sympathetically. Just as the man she had been living with these past couple of years wasn’t the man she had married, the wretched creature before her was someone entirely different. And just as whatever horrific brain injury she had inflicted had sapped out either version of her husband, so too it had drained away all the hurt and hatred she felt.

  When she had been considering how best to stage Scott’s death, Kate’s main concern had surrounded ensuring it appeared to be the work of a professional. Her fear had been that she would get so caught in the moment that she would be unable to keep from inflicting the sort of damage he had caused her, but now she could see that the real Scott was gone she would only do what was necessary to put whatever lay before her out of its misery
.

  An additional swing was enough; indicated by the cracking sound as a fissure opened along the length of his skull.

  Kate calmly dropped the golf club, took off her gloves and rolled them up into a ball. Depositing them where they kept their hats and scarves, she slowly walked up the stairs, and climbed into the loft. She withdrew the ladder, sealing the hatch, and took a few deep breaths before picking up the mobile phone she had left in their earlier.

  ‘Which service do you require?’ came the calm tone down the line a few moments later.

  ‘Police!’ Kate whispered frantically. ‘There are… there are people in my house!’

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Lexie wasn’t sure when she had first known Jordan was fucking her over, but it had been confirmed the moment one of the armed officers pinning her to the ground got up and emptied the contents of the two bags. On reflection she should have been suspicious of how light Jordan’s had been, but then paper isn’t exactly heavy and she had been preoccupied with other things at the time.

  As soon as Jordan had got up from their table at the back of the coffee shop she had moved to follow, but leaving enough of a distance so that they didn’t appear to be together. Splitting up wouldn’t fool the coppers entirely but, with Jordan headed for the exit, they only needed it to buy themselves a little time.

  If it hadn’t been for the sudden way he had veered off into that group of students, barging through them before tripping over the collection of suitcases in the middle, she would almost have believed it to have been an accident. But as the strangers moved to determine what had happened, she caught a glimpse of Jordan staring out at her, offering another wink to go with the one he had given in the coffee shop.

  Lexie had taken it to mean that bundling into the students had been the plan all along, and she had been right, although not in the way she had understood it at the time. By then pointing at her and shouting that she had a gun, he hadn’t so much tricked her as she had allowed herself to be tricked. She still didn’t know why he had agreed to meet her at the Abbey Gateway but assumed that it had always been about providing himself with an insurance policy. But she had got so caught up in the romanticism of it all that she had failed to appreciate his words about how causing a diversion could be applied to either of them.

  And judging by the furious discussions between that bitch of a copper Lexie had first clocked outside her house, and the rest of the pigs, Jordan had been right about probably having the greater chance of resisting arrest.

  As Lexie was led towards the back of the police car, one question more than any other burned within her. It wasn’t so much why Jordan had decided to sacrifice her, but when he had made that decision. She wanted to believe he had taken the money out of the bag whilst she was preoccupied with studying the way the officers interacted with the different travellers, because that would mean he had come to the conclusion only when it appeared there to be no other way.

  The long journey back to St. Albans gave Lexie a chance to think about how she could correct the situation. Once all the fuss in the airport had begun to die down, she had attributed the subdued nature of the officers to the simple fact that they had only managed to catch one of their two suspects. But riding back with the detectives allowed her to pick up on it being more than that. Just as she had correctly gambled on them choosing to chase the boys when they turned up at the house, the few words that were exchanged between them in the car gave the impression that they felt the real culprit had got away. And it wasn’t just that Jordan was male that had led them to the conclusion. Judging from what was said, Lexie had been right in her assumption that Jordan had taken the most direct route out of Lavender Crescent. Combined with his intimidating size and how he’d clearly set Lexie up at the airport, thinking he was the leader of the gang seemed a natural conclusion.

  One that Lexie was keen to exploit.

  ‘Did you… did you catch him?’ she asked, her voice a whisper but with just enough volume to carry into the front of the car.

  ‘Not yet,’ the woman answered simply, but the frustration in her voice was clear.

  ‘Oh Jesus, you don’t think… you don’t think he can still get to me, do you?’

  ‘I doubt that…’

  Not exactly the response Lexie had been looking for. ‘Will I be put in a cell as soon as we get to the police station?’

  The woman sighed irritably, and her partner seemed content to keep the conversation going. ‘Initially, but we’ll be interviewing you shortly. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Oh, it’s… it’s nothing,’ Lexie replied flatly, hoping he would choose to probe further. ‘Are the women’s cells separate, you know like we have different prisons?’

  ‘Er, well everyone gets their own cell…’

  ‘Oh, that’s good,’ Lexie responded, putting as much inflection into her tone to suggest she sounded anything but reassured.

  ‘You’re really worried about them, aren’t you?’ His eyes were now flicking between the road ahead and regarding her in the rear-view mirror. Lexie hung her head, not just to stifle the smile that threatened to form on her lips but also to begin the process of making herself cry. She didn’t yet know what to make of the woman but she was already certain that the man would be arriving in the interview anticipating the version of events she was planning on delivering.

  * * *

  Lexie had maintained the air of someone experiencing a mixture of shock and resignation as she was led into the police station and booked in at the duty desk. Having sown the seed in the car, she wanted to keep her powder dry until interviewed. Her demeanour in the meantime may have been staged but it hadn’t taken too much acting on her part. This wasn’t her first time in a police station but on each other occasion she knew that it was a matter of hours until she would be released; usually just with a slap on the wrist. That she was off to prison was a virtual certainty; but for how long was still very much up for debate.

  The male detective led her to the interview room barely five minutes after she had been put into her cell. She was encouraged by the delicate way he handled her, but was dismayed to find that it was the woman, who formally introduced herself as DC Knight once they were all sat down, who seemed to be in charge of her interrogation.

  ‘Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?’ DC Knight suggested, regarding her coldly. ‘We have evidence that places you at the scene of the murders. What do you make of that?’

  ‘It’s true,’ Lexie replied bowing her head, but not low enough that she didn’t notice the jolt of surprise in the solicitor she had been allocated.

  ‘Oh.’ DC Knight was unable to hide her surprise. ‘So, you admit to the murder of those people?’

  ‘I was there but I didn’t kill anyone.’

  ‘So, what was your role then?’ The man she now knew to be DC Cooper asked, and Lexie thought she caught a flash of irritation cross DC Knight’s face.

  ‘I was there to speak to the man as he entered his house; to delay him from getting inside and closing the door.’

  ‘You do realise that being complicit in the murders is as good as committing them yourself?’ DC Knight asked, taking back the lead.

  ‘Yes,’ Lexie replied, dropping her head again and closing her eyes. She squeezed hard until a tear came out and she continued to wait as it rolled down her cheek. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Her voice was now barely a whisper.

  ‘I don’t get this,’ DC Cooper responded, shaking his head. ‘We caught you trying to leave the country and now you’re just going to hold your hands up to everything?’

  ‘I had no choice,’ Lexie said, looking up imploringly. There followed a few moments of silence; silence which she was determined not to be the one to end.

  ‘No choice?’ DC Cooper asked eventually.

  ‘No,’ she replied simply.

  ‘About what?’ DC Knight interjected, causing Lexie to hope that her plan may work after all.

  ‘About any of it. I… I thought he loved me,’ she said,
inflecting as much misery into her tone as she could.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jordan. We… we started dating in school. He got himself expelled and convinced me to come with him.’

  A look passed between the two detectives. ‘I’m not sure how any of this is relevant,’ DC Knight said, but the way she leaned forward slightly suggested otherwise.

  ‘After we moved from place to place, eventually we moved in with Taylor and Cole. It was then that… then that things started to go wrong. At first I just thought he was showing off in front of his mates but then… then…’ Lexie hung her head in shame.

  ‘What?’ The concern in DC Knight’s voice was evident.

  ‘He… he started to share me around. I… I didn’t want to, but he told me I had no choice. We were unable to keep up our share of the rent and he said we’d be kicked out if I didn’t. He said it would be just the one time but… but…’ Lexie was surprised how easily the sobbing came.

  ‘Did they force you?’

  ‘No,’ Lexie said shaking her head. ‘But Taylor told me he’d filmed it and he would send the recording to my family if I didn’t do it again.’

  ‘What did Jordan make of all this?’ DC Cooper asked, shaking his own head in disgust.

  ‘He was there when Taylor told me and he… he just laughed. Said it was my fault for agreeing in the first place.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just leave?’

  ‘And go where? Even if my family would have taken me back, they would have kicked me out as soon as they saw the video. I thought that if Jordan and I got enough money together then we could leave, and everything could go back to the way it was.’

  ‘Is that why you started stealing?’ DC Knight enquired, withdrawing some documents from a file.

  Lexie could see an old mugshot of her at the top of one of them.

  ‘Sort of…. Taylor kept putting up the rent and kept lowering how much he… how much each time was worth. Jordan said I had to find other ways to earn the money we needed.’