Killer Princesses: Gripping and gritty, a twisty and tantalising thriller...

by Jennifer R Hollis

  “Debbie, I want to talk to you on a more informal basis. You are not under any kind of suspicion here. I wanted to talk to you because you are the person in this building who seemed to know these women best. You share my desire to catch the perpetrator as soon as possible. I need a little more insight from you on your colleagues and their behaviour.”

  He paused to let his request sink in. Debbie shifted in her seat and her muscles tensed.

  “Can we do this, Debbie? This is no more than an informal chat at this stage. Though, I must ask that you keep everything we say between these four walls.”

  “OK,” whispered Debbie, trying to steady herself so that she could be as helpful as possible.

  “Excellent, Debbie. So, I’m right in thinking that your departmental team consists of Gillian, Renee, Karen, Dawn and Marie. And, more recently, following the murders, Jade and Ethan.”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you get on with them? It’s OK if the answer is no; honesty is the most helpful response here.”

  “Well, Karen is my best friend, we’ve known each other since high school, our children get on, and we’re fortunate to work together. I get on with Dawn well enough too, though she is a very private person. I’ve dropped her home a few times, but we don’t go out together. Gillian is a bit of a machine. She’s married to the job, you know, as well as Kevin. But she’s tolerable once you get over the bossiness. She gets things done, you know. Jade and Ethan, I barely know them. They seem like good, smart kids. But I’m old enough to be their mother, so I wouldn’t say we were friends.”

  “Thank you, Debbie,” said Okafor, ticking off some names. “There are still two remaining,” he added with a hint of a smile.

  “Well, Renee, as I’m sure you’ve seen, is a bit of a character. She appeared in January this year, transferred from another store. She’s created a lot of division, I’m afraid. Either she thinks she’s better than us, or just enjoys causing trouble. Or both. She is quite funny sometimes; she’s efficient when she puts her mind to something. Perhaps, if we didn’t work together, we could be friends. But we do, and we’re not. I do not have time for Marie. I’m afraid difficult doesn’t begin to cover it,” continued Debbie, as DS Harris scribbled opposite her.

  “She seems to idolise Renee and has no qualms about stirring and gossiping. She’s mean and lazy. I know Jan and Caitlin felt the same about all the people I’ve mentioned.”

  “OK, that’s good, thank you. Now, these behaviours you’ve mentioned: bossiness, privacy, stirring, meanness. Did any of them start shortly before or after the murders?”

  Debbie paused for thought. Renee and Marie were annoying before, and their indifference to the murders wasn’t out of character. Gillian had always been bossy. Dawn quiet, and Karen a bit absent-minded, aloof.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything now, can I take some time to think about it?”

  “Of course. I have one more thing to ask if I may?” Okafor paused and waited for Debbie to nod. “Does the name ‘Princesses’ mean anything to you?”

  “No,” she replied honestly. “Should it? Does it mean something to you?”

  “Not yet, Debbie, but I hope it will soon.”

  Okafor smiled enigmatically and picked up the papers in front of him.

  DS Harris accompanied Debbie back to the shop floor. As they reached the end of one of the aisles, Debbie found Marie in the same position she’d left her in.

  “Can we speak to Karen Goldman too, please?” asked DS Harris.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can,” replied Marie, “but I’m afraid she disappeared about fifteen minutes ago after I told her you were here.”

  Debbie felt the anger towards Marie bubbling up again. Before she could act on it, Gillian appeared from underneath the Supervisor’s desk.

  “Karen missing?” she asked, in her high voice. “Shame, I was going to ask her to clean the lockers with you, Debbie. You had better find her and get going.”

  Marie snorted as Gillian held up two flimsy pairs of rubber gloves and a bin bag.

  “I can see you have work to do,” interjected DS Harris. “We’re running late anyway, and I can catch up with Karen another time. I have her phone number.”

  Debbie traipsed back upstairs again. As she reached the staff area, Karen stepped out of the Manager’s office in front of her. Her usual tight ponytail was slightly loose, her cheeks flushed.

  “Where the hell have you been?” whispered Debbie.

  “Oh, here and there, you know,” Karen replied, breathlessly. “What’s that in your hand? Why have you got a bin bag?”

  “We have to do the locker cleaning, Gillian’s orders. I need to get the master key from Steve then let’s get it over and done with.”

  “I’ll get it!” said Karen with a smile. She re-entered the Manager’s office and closed the door behind her. Debbie stood outside, perplexed.

  They began opening and closing lockers, searching for rotten food and wiping down the insides. After fifteen minutes, Debbie turned to Karen with a mischievous look. “The police were here, Karen,” she whispered.

  “I know. Mardie said.”

  “You’ve got to stop calling her that,” giggled Debbie. “They were looking for you after they spoke to me.”

  “Me, why?” asked Karen, as she pulled out a mouldy lunch box and rotten banana with a grimace.

  “Same as me, I expect,” whispered Debbie. “I’m not allowed to say anything at all, so don’t tell anyone. But they think the murderer could have been someone who works here.”

  “No way,” gasped Karen.

  “Shh. And, Okafor asked if I knew about anything called ‘Princesses’. What do you think that could be?”

  “Isn’t that Renee’s cat’s name, ‘Princess’?”

  “Oh God, you’re right, I forgot,” hissed Debbie. “Do you think Renee has something to do with it?”

  “Well her cat certainly doesn’t. Now don’t go running away with this Deb. I know we don’t like her, but... come on!”

  But Debbie was frozen to the spot, her eyes wide in shock. Inside the locker she’d just opened was a small designer bag. The owner had shown it to Debbie around three months ago after her new boyfriend had given it to her.

  She unclipped the clasp, revealing a mobile phone and a small purse. She opened the purse and took out the credit cards, which all had the same name on them: Caitlin Murphy.

  Excerpt: Interview with Deborah Gomez. Thursday 9 August 2018, 12:30

  Officer: Thank you, Debbie, that was a thorough interview, very helpful indeed. I have just one more question, which I’m afraid I have to ask. Where were you on Friday 3rd August, between 9.30 pm and midnight?

  Debbie: I was at home. The children were in their rooms upstairs. Joe, my husband, and I had two of our neighbours over for drinks. They left around 10 pm, Joe and I cleared the kitchen and went to bed ourselves.

  Post-interview officer’s notes: Alibi confirmed. Joseph Gomez has been interviewed and has confirmed his wife’s whereabouts.

  6: Anything For You

  Friday 5th October 2018 - Marie

  A repetitive, high-pitched beeping sound woke Marie at 9 am on the dot. She turned towards the noise, stuck her short arm out from under the duvet and hit the snooze button.

  Her head was fuzzy, her mouth paper dry. She shuddered as she opened one eye and saw the near-empty wine glass and full ashtray on her bedside table. She was very thirsty, so she hauled herself out of bed and shuffled on heavy legs into the kitchen.

  The mess made her heave. Piles of soiled pans and plates were stacked next to the sink, and the bin was full to the brim. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and some paracetamol from a drawer.

  Light streamed in through the windows of her converted loft flat. Usually, this brought the artwork covering the walls to life. But this morning it reflected off the surfaces into her eyes and worsened her headache. Back in bed, she gulped the water and swallowed three painkillers.

&n
bsp; She picked up her phone and saw three missed calls; one from Gillian, two from Renee. A message from Renee appeared.

  I can’t work today. Don’t say you’ll cover my shift. Jade can do it - I’ve already asked her. I need you to come over and help me with something.

  Marie smiled to herself. Spending time with Renee was the only thing she enjoyed as much, if not more, than her painting. Before she could respond to the message, the phone vibrated.

  “Hi, Gillian,” answered Marie brightly.

  “Marie, hello. Renee has decided not to come in today. Can you cover?”

  Marie took a deep breath and made a hissing sound through her teeth.

  “Sorry, Gill. I’m looking after one of my elderly relatives, to give the usual carer a break.”

  “I see,” Gillian replied coldly. Marie wondered whether her boss had somehow detected her lie.

  “I’ve spoken to Renee, and she said Jade was able…”

  “Yes, yes I know about that,” said Gillian, cutting across Marie. “I was checking if you were free too. More experienced pair of hands, you know.”

  “Sorry, Gill.”

  “OK. I’ll see you over the weekend.”

  Marie turned back to Renee’s message and responded.

  Told G I can’t cover. She’s not happy. When and why do you need me? Hope all OK xxxx

  The reply came straight away, which was a pleasant surprise. Sometimes it took Renee days to respond to her messages, and at other times she didn’t respond at all.

  Soon as you can, like now! Need some help with something.

  Marie rolled her eyes. Asking for ‘some help with something’ was vague. Perhaps the cat had gone missing again.

  She gulped down some more water, showered and blow-dried her hair. She rarely bothered to wear make-up, but when she saw Renee, she tended to add a bit of lipstick and mascara. Today, she added a spray from a perfume bottle she’d had on her dresser for over ten years.

  Marie left the flat, pausing only to grab a croissant from the fridge, and hurried down to her car.

  Ten minutes later, Renee Beck flung open her front door to let Marie in.

  “Ohhh my God, Marie,” cried Renee dramatically. “Thank goodness you’re here at last. I am having the most terrible time and I desperately need a favour. A big favour.”

  Marie took in the scene. Renee didn’t look or sound ill at first glance, but her usually tidy house looked as though someone had rifled through it. Drawers and cupboard doors were open, DVDs and books had been removed from the shelves and piled on the floor.

  Renee had no make-up on and was wearing leggings and a baggy old jumper. She beckoned Marie further into the living room.

  “Renee, what’s going on?” asked Marie with trepidation.

  “Sit down, Marie,” ordered Renee, and she ushered her into the armchair. Princess the Persian cat appeared from behind the chair and jumped onto Marie’s lap. She pawed at her shoulder and looked back and forth from Marie to Renee.

  Renee remained standing and turned to address Marie.

  “Marie,” she announced, with the look and tone of a Shakespearean actor ready to break into a monologue. “I am afraid I am ill. I do not feel well at all, and I am very sick.”

  Princess tilted her head slightly as Marie’s eyebrows narrowed.

  “You don’t look very ill, Renee, what’s wrong? Not something serious?”

  “Well, no Marie, I’m not dying,” answered Renee, and Marie breathed a sigh of relief. “But trust me. I am ill, and I need to sort things out.”

  “OK, so what can I do to help? Do you need a lift to the doctors?”

  “I need you to go shopping for me, Marie. I am going to be quite ill for around three days.”

  “How do you know?” asked Marie, as Renee paced around the living room.

  “Write this down, Marie, I need healthy things. Fruit, you know. Smoothies and one of those vape things.”

  “Juice and a vape?” asked Marie, incredulously, as she lifted an anxious Princess off of her lap. “Renee, can you please sit down?”

  “And comfy things,” continued Renee, ignoring Marie’s request.

  “A blanket, new books, because none of these are suitable,” Renee added as she kicked over a pile of them on the floor.

  “OK...OK! I’ll go shopping. I need to pick up some bits too. But will you promise to rest while I’m gone? Whatever is wrong with you, this,” Marie gestured at Renee, “can’t be good for you.”

  Renee stopped mid-pace, allowing Marie to stand up and grab her arm.

  “Come and sit down for a minute. Has something happened with Kevin? Or, I’ll tell you about work yesterday and the police coming in?”

  “No, Marie, I don’t have the time. I need to go out, you see.”

  “Out? But you’re ill, that’s why I’m here, and I’m going out for you.”

  “Oh, Marie, won’t you just do as I say and stop questioning me!” shouted Renee as she raised her hands to her head and closed her eyes.

  Marie raised her eyebrows, sat back down with her arms crossed and sighed.

  “Sorry. I’m so sorry!” purred Renee, as she wedged herself into the armchair next to Marie and put her arm around her.

  “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent. I promise we’ll do something fun together soon.”

  Marie could smell Renee’s perfume and as she turned around to look at her, their faces were quite close. Close enough for Marie to notice the dark shadows under Renee’s eyes, which seemed a little bloodshot.

  “Fine,” agreed Marie. “Of course, I’ll go then. Anything for you.”

  “Marvellous!” exclaimed Renee, jumping out of the armchair and pushing her long hair away from her face. “We’ve both got our little missions then. Drop the shopping back off here when you’re done. Oh, and here’s some cash,” she added, and handed Marie a couple of £20 notes with a smile.

  Marie raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips. Renee quickly rearranged her face into a frown and coughed unconvincingly.

  Marie drove past the supermarket towards the town centre with her shopping list. Her head was starting to hurt again. She felt like there was an elastic band around her temples, tightening against the dull ache behind her eyes. Marie wondered where her frantic friend was going. Renee had taken a different turning at the Melwood Junction and sped off into the distance.

  Marie had heard stories about Renee’s behaviour on her nights out. Her affair with Kevin was the tip of the iceberg, considering her history. But Marie had never seen her like she was today. She was usually so happy and confident, the life and soul of any party.

  She parked the car in a little-known car park and walked up towards the High Street, past a row of tatty, boarded up shops. She noticed Ethan sitting in a café as she passed it, but didn’t stop to say hello. Small talk wasn’t her strong point and she wanted to get started on Renee’s shopping straight away.

  She reached the end of the High Street two hours later and sat down in a café with heavy bags of healthy food and drinks, new books, cat food and art supplies. She’d also bought Renee a few gifts, including perfume, aromatherapy candles and bath oils. If Renee was in the midst of a mental health crisis, they might help.

  As she ate her panini and chips, Marie ran through Renee’s list to check she hadn’t forgotten anything. She remembered Renee saying something about comfy things, so she decided to make one final stop.

  It was another warm day outside and it was far too hot inside the large department store. Marie felt the heat inside her jacket, and she struggled to keep hold of all the bags. She grabbed a couple of plain knitted jumpers in size ten and headed towards the pyjamas.

  As she bustled through the underwear section, she looked up at the skinny mannequins dressed in matching sets. She started to imagine Renee in them and began to feel even hotter. She turned away and bumped into a tall, thin woman, with very straight, shoulder-length blonde hair.

  “Marie?”

 
; “Oh, hello,” she mumbled. Her face reddened as a smartly-dressed Karen gazed down at the jumpers.

  “I’m not sure they’ll fit you,” commented Karen, with a smirk.

  “They’re for Renee, not me.”

  “Doing her shopping too?” asked Karen, as she looked down towards Marie’s many bags.

  “Bloody hell Marie, have you won the lottery or something?”

  Marie shuffled the bags between her hands and shook her head. She was desperate to get away from her least favourite colleague.

  “If you must know, prints of my paintings have been selling well, and I sold an original last month. Now I had better get on.”

  “I didn’t know you painted,” said Karen, who seemed unable to take the hint.

  “You’ve never asked. Now, I really must go.”

  Marie’s face was burning red, and her arms ached from the strain of the bags. She turned away from an intrigued looking Karen and hurried towards the till to pay for the jumpers. She hated getting caught off-guard, especially by the likes of nosy Karen. She and Debbie both seemed incapable of thinking before they spoke or keeping anything to themselves.

  Back in the car park, Marie loaded the bags into her boot, caught her breath, and drove back towards Renee’s. However, when she reached the house, Renee’s car wasn’t in the drive, and nobody answered the front door. Marie sighed and returned to the car. She lit a cigarette and cracked open a can of gin and tonic from one of the shopping bags.

  Excerpt: Interview with Marie Webster. Monday 13 August 2018, 16:00

  (nb the interviewee has requested legal representation for this interview)

  Interview resumed 16.18

  Officer: Thank you for agreeing to continue Marie. Of course, it was not my intention to upset you, though I recognise this is a very distressing time. *Pause* Now, I only have a few things to clarify. Earlier, you said you weren’t particularly close to Janice and Caitlin. *Pause* So I’m a little surprised that talking about what happened has prompted such a strong reaction from you. Were you friends with these women?