Urge to Kill (1)

by Franklin, JJ

  All of them together would be no match for Clive. Eppie knew she couldn’t stay here and moved back into the porch, keeping close to the cold stone walls. She watched for any movement out there in the dark.

  There was nothing. No torch, no footsteps, no movement. He could be waiting until she made a break for it. Or maybe he would think she had found help and wouldn’t be expecting her to come out. As she waited, wondering what to do, she became aware of footsteps behind her. In a burst of laughter and chatter, the youngsters were leaving. Soon the lights would be turned off leaving her alone. Using this thought to give her courage, Eppie shot out into the dark, hidden amongst the crowd. The children turned left towards the car park, so she ran up a small path leading away from the car park and to the right.

  No one reached out to grab her, but she knew she couldn’t relax. Somehow she had to get to the spa. Fluff needed help to stop Clive killing M. With no money or phone, she wasn’t sure how she could do this. The temperature was beginning to fall and she started to shiver.

  The small path came out onto a street of small shops, all of which seemed to have shut up for the night. She turned left heading towards the houses and a sign, which said Kenilworth Castle.

  Some of the houses had lights on promising warmth and safety. Would it be better to knock on someone’s front door, or stop one of the cars rushing by? They might think she was mad, wandering about with no coat on in the cold, and race on by or shut the door in her face.

  Eppie turned as a car slowed behind her, ever fearful that it would be Clive. But the driver was waiting while the car coming the other way passed a parked van. Relieved, she took a step forward, giving a wave, but the driver kept his eyes rigidly forward refusing to notice her.

  Disappointed, she stepped back on the curb, only to jump forward again as a taxi slowed on the other side of the road. In response to her frantic waving the taxi stopped. Eppie ran across the road and scrabbled in to sink back relieved in the warmth.

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Oh. Police station. No, Heath Stone Spa please.’

  ‘You all right?’

  ‘Yes…no.’

  ‘Think we had better make it the Police Station then. That’s unless they have shut up for the night. Think they’re a bloody shop or something they do. Closed when the burglars and all the other buggers start work. Don’t make sense does it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Here. How you gonna pay me? You’ve got no purse or coat.’

  ‘I don’t know. I just had to get out of there.’

  ‘Oh like that is it. Can’t abide a man who hits a woman. But it still don’t pay my bill, Love, does it?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Eppie toyed with the idea of telling him everything and that a young girl was in danger, unless he took her to the spa, but he would probably think she was mad. Although she was now safe, M and possibly Fluff were still in danger. Maybe she could persuade him to ring the police on his radio, although it had been hard enough to get through last time. It would be best to go straight to the spa and warn M, just in case Fluff hadn’t understood her notes.

  The taxi waited at the traffic lights indicating to go right. Eppie realised that they were going to pass the parking lot and slumped down in her seat.

  There he was. Pulling out in front of them. He couldn’t have seen her, could he? Was he on his way to the spa?

  The taxi stopped.

  ‘Can’t go on, Love, sorry and all that but need the money.’

  Eppie knew she must do something. Inspiration struck and she leaned forward.

  ‘Could you take my watch as security? Please.’

  She handed it over. He put on the cab light and turned it over in his hand. She knew she had won when he put it in his pocket.

  CHAPTER 56

  Sam was parked about a hundred yards from the house when Matt joined him.

  ‘Dead as a doornail here, Boss.’

  A mental picture of Clive Draper’s frail mother came to Matt. ‘Don’t say that, Sam.’

  As always, Sam picked up the undercurrent. ‘Why, you don’t think…?’

  Matt had just filled Sam in about Clive Draper when his mobile rang.

  ‘Affirmative with the wheelchair. It has a squeak. Bring him in, Matt.’ Jenny’s voice sounded energised, almost excited.

  ‘Any news from Harry yet?’ Matt asked, trying to control the answering excitement he was feeling. This was it. At last they had a lead. Could take action.

  ‘No. According to the redoubtable Mrs T, he goes to his daughters on a Monday. She is pulling his next of kin form, so we are working on that.’

  ‘Good,’ he said, eager now to be taking some action and already starting the car.

  There was no answer as Sam rang the buzzer, just an echoing silence that set Matt’s hairs on end. There was something wrong. Signalling Sam to keep ringing, he moved to look through the large bay windows. There were no lights on in the house, and at first it was difficult to see.

  Eventually he could make out a figure near the fireplace. It was Mrs Draper but she appeared to be asleep. Matt was certain she didn’t have a problem with her hearing yesterday. He knocked loudly on the glass but there was no movement. Now certain Mrs Draper was in trouble, he had the right to force an entry.

  It wasn’t easy, since the house was protected against burglars, but a plant pot through one of the panes of the kitchen door soon afforded them an entrance. As they entered the living room, Matt moved to Mrs Draper’s side, lowering his voice in case she was asleep.

  ‘Mrs Draper, it is Inspector Turrell. We met yesterday.’ There was no response and now he could see she was dead. Her face had that dull whiteness which showed up the bruises around her thin neck.

  Matt hardly needed to check but he followed the routine. She hadn’t seemed a very pleasant woman, but even so, Matt felt a certain sadness, for she had died at the hands of her own son. No one deserved that.

  Sam was already calling it in and soon this whole house would become a crime scene with Jason and his team taking over. Matt and Sam had a responsibility to make sure that Clive Draper wasn’t still in the house, although Matt was sure he was long gone. It gave them the chance to find something that might tell them where he had gone. Jenny would be putting out the APB right now, but this killer was too clever to let himself be seen walking down the street. They needed something else.

  Drawing on their forensic gloves, he and Sam began a quick search of the house, starting at the top. The house had three stories, and the top rooms were used for little more than storage. The light overlay of dust showed that nothing had been disturbed for a while.

  They continued down to the main bedrooms on the second floor. The rooms were large. Matt was standing in the doorway of what was certainly Mrs Draper’s room when Sam gave a shout.

  The excited, ‘Here, Guv,’ was what Matt had been hoping for and he hurried to the large front room. It was a tasteful, if simply furnished, room. Sam was standing by the row of built in cupboards, which took up an entire wall. At one end, besides the immaculate suits, jackets, and shirts that hung in neatly arranged rows were three garment bags. One was open, showing five empty metal hangers. On the sixth was an oversized child’s party dress in lilac with a deep purple sash. Matt heard Sam’s intake of breath.

  ‘Oh no. Guv, he’s on his way to do another three.’

  As Sam opened the other two garment bags to reveal more dresses, Matt was already on his mobile to Jenny. He could hear the response car’s siren in the background and the conversation was difficult. She was on her way to join them but what he had to say couldn’t wait.

  Clive must have known that his mother would be discovered. Even if he had been rational when he had started out on his killing spree, he had just killed his own mother. Surely, that would tip him over the edge. And he wasn’t the sort to leave the country. No, with nothing to lose, he would want to show off, show the world just how clever he was.

  Matt thought back to what the professo
r had said. He wanted everyone to understand why he had been driven to take this action, or something like that. Maybe Clive wasn’t thinking clearly at all, but really believed that he was invincible. Sam counted the dresses in the other two bags; each contained six dresses. So maybe Clive had accepted this might be his last killing spree. Matt was certain he would want to make it count, thumb his nose at them all.

  But he had taken three dresses with him. Three women were in danger.

  Thank God Eppie was safe. Matt had a sudden moment of doubt. Was there anyway Clive could have found out where she was this time? He consoled himself that Fluff would be home by now and she was no fool. The siren stopped, and he could hear Jenny clearly.

  ‘Did I hear that right, Matt? You think he is about to commit another three?’

  ‘Yes. Hold on.’ Sam was trying to get his attention. Matt watched as Sam slid out a stout cardboard box from the bottom of the wardrobe and eased the lid upwards. Inside, thrown together in an untidy mess, were over a hundred model soldiers.

  ‘Inspector,’ Jenny demanded.

  ‘Sorry. Sam has just found the soldiers. We believe Clive took three dresses with him, so have to assume that he intends to kill again, Ma’am.’

  ‘Oh, God. Then we have got to stop him. I’m one minute away. Keep searching.’

  Matt could hear the urgency in her voice and decided not to mention that they could be too late already.

  Sam was pulling out other boxes that contained hair bows, lollipops, and dolls. Matt moved to go through the dressing table drawers but they yielded nothing interesting, so he continued to the bedside cabinet to pick up a small picture frame.

  ‘Interesting.’

  Sam came to join him. ‘Good looking.’

  ‘Work colleague of Clive’s. Name of Ben. Looks like he thinks a lot of him.’

  ‘Which could be why the girls weren’t—’

  ‘Molested. Yes, his interest lies elsewhere.’

  By the time they had finished, Jason and then Jenny had arrived. Jason was in a hurry to secure his crime scene, so after signing them in, he banished them to hold a brief conference outside the front door.

  ‘He will know we are onto him, but looking at his pattern, I think he will want to show us that he can still outsmart us. I think he will head back to the spa,’ Matt said.

  ‘Uniform are still there. I’ll alert them. You and Sam go to the spa. I’ll ring it in and arrange backup.’

  Matt turned towards his car only to find it hemmed in by the forensic team’s full complement of vehicles. Even if he went over the neat flowerbed, he couldn’t see how he could manoeuvre it out of there in a hurry. It would have to be Sam’s old banger, which was still parked on the road.

  ‘Take the response car.’ Jenny indicated for the uniformed officer to give up the keys. He was reluctant, until she clicked her fingers impatiently. Matt was already moving towards the car when she shouted after him. ‘You’ve done the course?’

  Matt nodded as he jumped into the driver’s seat. He did not intend to tell her it was over six years ago.

  CHAPTER 57

  The light from Clive’s torch hardly pieced the shadows. It was as if the memorials to the dead were ganging up to protect his quarry. He had always felt ill at ease when passing through graveyards and was finding it hard to force himself forward.

  Then he saw her run towards the lighted church and hesitated. Her gods might give her temporary shelter, but his were more powerful. They would bring her to him at the right time. Clive would let her think she was safe for now, and then, when he had her husband and his team distracted by his next masterpiece, he would seek her out again. Eppie Turrell would keep until later. Besides, he had to attend to Mika.

  He pulled into the lay-by and turned off the engine. It wouldn’t be long now. The sun had lowered behind the trees and dusk was turning rapidly into night. The birds were in their nests, twittering to each other. Mother always sent them to bed when the birds were in their nests.

  Mother was asleep now. Asleep like the birds. The thought made him smile. He had made sure she was warm, like a little bird in the nest. Except she had no one to cuddle. This made him laugh.

  Even to his ears, the laugh sounded odd, as it reverberated around the parked car. Maybe he was going mad. No. No. This would mean that they had won. Father, Blake-Spencer, and all the others who had tried to bend him to their will, order him about, like DI Turrell.

  Clive pulled back, forcing himself to concentrate. He ran his hands over the patterned leather of the steering wheel, the cold hardness of the side window, felt the smooth roundness of the gear leaver. She would be here soon, and he wanted it to be perfect. This one was for Ben. For their love. He imagined telling him what he had done in his honour. It would bind them together forever, and Ben would hold him and love him.

  A car swished by, rocking his car and disturbing his thoughts. He glanced at the dashboard clock. It was time for him to become Detective Inspector Browning again and to get into position to meet her. He checked the ‘warrant’ card, sure that in the dark it would pass muster. She would feel it a privilege to be escorted into work, to be protected.

  Clive locked the car door and hurried the five hundred yards to the place he had chosen, just a few feet from the main driveway to the spa. He had worked out that she would come from the left, so he concentrated on the road with only the occasional glance towards the right, just in case she had decided to come a different way.

  Eight minutes to go if she was on time. What if she was sick or had swapped shifts? No, he wouldn’t even think about it. This was meant to be. He had planned it all too carefully. He had proven that he could fool them all, that he was invincible. She had to come.

  The deepening dusk was now infused with light swirls of fog that seemed perfect for his purpose. Even nature was working with him. She must come to take her role in destiny.

  At last, headlights glanced off the hedges as a car approached. Soon the black and white mini was driving towards him, slowing down and indicating that it was turning into the spa drive. Clive stepped into the road and held up his hand. She braked but stayed in the car. He moved to the driver’s window and performed the motion of winding it down while holding up his warrant card. She obeyed him without question.

  ‘Detective Inspector Browning, Ma’am. We are taking no chances after the recent events here at the spa and are escorting all lone females into the building.’ Clive made his voice sound serious and official, modelling it on DI Turrell. She gave a little giggle.

  ‘Oh. How nice, Inspector. Thank you.’

  ‘I will ride with you. It will be safer that way.’ He moved around to the passenger side of the car and waited for her to click open the door. Then he was inside and indicated that she should proceed.

  Clive glanced at her as they wound their way up the driveway towards the car park. She would fit into the yellow dress he had chosen, and it would highlight her dark hair. He wanted this statement to be perfect. The excitement was building within him. Eager to do their work, his hands itched and tingled. But he must be patient, must wait until they reached the darkest side of the staff car park, when the job could be done without fear of discovery. Where even the CCTV didn’t reach.

  The Mini’s headlights swung around a curve in the drive and caught the patrol car full on. Two uniform officers, coffee in hand, turned momentarily towards them. Clive tried not to hold his breath and instead gave a brief nod. The Mini passed by and continued up the driveway, while Clive congratulated himself on his plan. It was obvious they would have stopped him if he had been a lone male but a couple would not pose a threat.

  His confidence was shaken seconds later, however, as the patrol car sprung into action. Its siren shot through the stillness of the night and the blue light glanced repeatedly across the back of their heads. Was he found out?

  As they listened, he was relieved to realise that the sound was moving away.

  ‘Will it be him?’ Mika asked, nervo
usly.

  ‘I wouldn’t think so,’ Clive assured her in a calm, but authoritative voice. ‘Probably an accident or a domestic.’

  She was looking scared, and he couldn’t afford to have her getting skittish at this point.

  ‘We still have a team on site,’ he added. This seemed to reassure her and she drove through the main guest parking lot and into the smaller staff one beyond.

  Clive directed her to park just where he wanted her, close to the hedge where he had hidden his props. She switched off the engine and turned to thank him. He reached out, as if to pat her shoulder, but instead grasped her around the neck and pulled her towards him.

  By the time she had realised what was happening, he had brought up his left hand to enclose her neck. She was struggling frantically, fighting for her life. And she was strong. Her hands had found their way to his face and were scrabbling to reach his eyes. The confined space within the car was hampering his hold, and he could feel his grip loosening. He tried to move his head away from her probing fingers but felt a sharp scraping of nails across his right eye. His hands went instinctively to his face.

  She used this moment to kick open her door, stagger from the car, and disappear into the dark of the car park.

  Momentarily blinded and in pain, by the time Clive got out of the car, she was yards ahead of him, halfway across the staff parking lot and dangerously close to the well-lit guest parking area where the CCTV would pick them both up. She mustn’t be allowed to get away, to spoil his plan.

  Ignoring the pain in his eye, he began to run after her. She was running wildly, fuelled by terror. Clive made a supreme effort and closed the gap, but then she glanced back and added a desperate spurt.

  She was his. This couldn’t be happening. No one was allowed to refuse their place, their role in his statements.

  Even Mother. Mother. Mother, who had let him place his head in her lap, had stroked his hair, sang to him. He should go home to Mother. But Mother wouldn’t like it if he let this girl go. She would be cross. ‘Always finish what you start, Clive.’ He could hear her voice echoing through his head.