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

by Jennifer R Hollis

  “Yes, I said that because I think someone killed Dawn,” she whispered, as tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ve been too scared to say anything. I’ll tell you everything I know, but you have to protect me, and my family, because I can’t end up like Janice and Caitlin.”

  The detectives raised their eyebrows.

  “Start at the beginning Debbie,” urged DS Harris, with a small glance at the mirror on Debbie’s right.

  “Back in September, you asked me about my colleagues and something called ‘Princesses’. Afterwards, I looked out for any strange behaviour, like you said. I noticed that some of the younger girls on the checkouts looked tired and upset all the time. I knew something awful was happening to them. I told Karen, but she wasn’t interested, so I spoke to Dawn on inspection day. She said she’d noticed the same thing.”

  “What did Dawn say to you?”

  “She said it was obvious what was going on. I asked her whether this thing with the girls was linked to something called ‘Princesses’? She nodded, and she told me she knew who was behind it all. She was going to come and talk to you later in the week, she said. She told me not to say anything, so I didn’t. Next thing I know, she’s dead.”

  Debbie heard the desperation in her voice. She’d not explained events very well, and she hadn’t told them what she saw at Dawn’s house on Halloween. But then, should she mention that? Her trip to Dawn’s road on the night of the murder could incriminate her further. She felt her heart pounding against her chest; it was too hot in the room, and it felt like the walls were closing in on her.

  “If this is true, Debbie, why not come forward to us in the last month?” asked DS Harris. “If these girls are in danger, and your friends have been murdered, why not come and speak to us?”

  Debbie grabbed two tissues from the table and wiped her eyes and face with her shaking hands.

  “I was scared that I’d end up like them, dead. I told Karen what Dawn had said to me, and Karen said to forget it and protect myself and my family. So that’s what I did, even though I felt awful every day. That’s why I said those things at the funeral, because I know what happened, and I am sorry I didn’t do something between that Monday and Halloween.”

  “But you did do something, at that time, didn’t you?” pushed DC Jameson.

  “You sent Dawn a lot of messages, which she did not reply to, and then you paid her a visit.”

  Debbie’s heart sank as DC Jameson produced two pictures of her car entering and leaving Dawn’s road.

  “I did, I can explain,” she said weakly, as her voice shook.

  “Please do, Deborah, because you are in a lot of trouble here. You’re at the scene of the crime, within the time-of-death window.” DC Jameson raised his voice and leant forward over the table.

  “I was driving home from Homestead, there were riots, and I wanted to get my children home. I had to drive a different way. Then I realised we were close to Dawn’s house. She hadn’t replied to my texts, so I pulled up outside.”

  “Did you enter the house, Debbie?” asked DS Harris.

  “No, I didn’t, the lights in the house were off, and I had the kids in the car. So, after a few minutes, I thought better of it and drove off.”

  “Come on, Debbie, stop messing us around,” DC Jameson shouted. “You realised Dawn was on to something about you, so you took the chance to silence her. You’ve done it before, right?”

  “No, no, you cannot think that, please. My children were in the car for God’s sake! Ask my son, ask Marco, he’ll tell you. I did not get out of the car! You’re looking at the wrong person; I was not the only one there that night!”

  “Wait, what do you mean, Debbie?” asked DS Harris.

  “When I turned my car lights back on, I saw someone, in black clothes and a mask, coming out of Dawn’s side gate. That’s who you should be looking for, not me. I texted Dawn when I got home, and she replied saying she was OK. That’s why I didn’t say anything until she didn’t come to work. But it was probably the person in the mask, who killed her and stole her phone to text me, right?”

  “Deborah,” sighed DC Jameson in disbelief. “It’s remarkable, and convenient that you remember this figure only once we place you at the crime scene. I think you did leave the car, you killed Dawn and then stole the phone to reply to your own message.”

  “No, no, I didn’t, please.”

  “Dawn knew your secret?”

  “No.”

  “Janice and Caitlin knew it too?”

  “No.”

  “What is ‘Princesses’, Deborah?”

  “I don’t know, but you’ve got this all wrong!”

  Her head was spinning. She needed time to get everything she knew in order. She needed Joe and Marco here with her, to prove she wasn’t a murderer.

  DC Jameson terminated the interview, and he and DS Harris left her alone in the room.

  On the other side of the mirror, Vincent Okafor had watched the entire interview. Despite the mounting evidence against Debbie, he still felt inclined to believe her. Her reactions were the classic ones of innocent people, not the guilty.

  “Sir,” said Joanne, as she entered the room with DC Jameson.

  “Well done in there, both of you,” praised Okafor. “Very interesting indeed.”

  “Do you believe her, sir?” asked DC Jameson.

  “I don’t think she’s lying, as it happens. But there is so much more we need to ask her. We need to check the stories with Joe and her son,” replied Okafor, with a sigh

  “And in the meantime, we should start on the others who have some explaining to do. Renee, Marie, Jade, Ethan.”

  As they left the room, a uniformed officer approached them, red-faced and breathless.

  “Sirs, Ma’am, we’ve completed the search of the Gomez house. You’re not going to believe it.”

  Okafor glanced nervously at DS Harris and DC Jameson, and then back to the officer.

  “At the bottom of a wardrobe, we found a handbag with a purse and phone in it. It’s Caitlin Murphy’s, sir.”

  Okafor felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. His eyes widened, and he had to lean on the wall of the corridor for support. DS Harris’ mouth was open with shock.

  Could Debbie have another unfortunate ‘wrong place, wrong time’ explanation for this? Or was she a triple murderer? He now had to admit that the latter was more likely.

  “DC Jameson,” ordered Okafor. “Change of plan. Forget the other colleagues. Charge her with all three murders. Prepare to question her on this handbag. And DS Harris, get the husband and son in here now.”

  Okafor and DS Harris returned to the viewing room. They watched DC Jameson charge a sobbing Debbie Gomez with the murders of Janice Locke, Caitlin Murphy and Dawn Smith.

  Excerpt: Joseph Gomez interview, Wednesday 12 December 2018, 11.15 am

  Officer: What time did your neighbours, the Millers, leave on Friday 3rd August?

  Joe: This was four months ago. I said 10 pm last time, I think, I still believe that’s correct.

  Officer: Why do your neighbours say 9.40 pm then?

  Joe: I don’t know, I honestly don’t, I suppose one of us lost track of time. But it doesn’t bloody matter, because whether they left at 9.40, 9.50 or 10, I have told you that my wife was with me after, cleaning up, and then we went to bed together. She didn’t leave my sight!

  Officer: Sir, calm down, please.

  Joe: No, I won’t, my wife is innocent, all she has done is try to find out what happened to her friends, and you’re holding her like a prisoner with no real evidence.

  Excerpt: Marco Gomez interview, Wednesday 12th December 2018, 11.45 am

  Present: Joseph Gomez (Parent)

  Officer: You’re doing very well, Marco. Now, do you remember where you were on Halloween, at about 7.30 pm?

  Marco: Yeah, we were at the Halloween party in Homestead, my sister wanted to go.

  Officer: And when did you leave?

  Marco: I don’t k
now, about 7.45 before the doors locked. Dad told Mum to take us home because of the riots.

  Officer: And did you go straight home?

  Marco: We drove to Melwood Junction, but we had to cut through the store because there were people hitting cars. The people who’d been rioting.

  Officer: And you stopped somewhere else, do you remember?

  Marco: Yeah, on a side road. Mum asked me to check on Twitter to see if our road was safe.

  Officer: And what did your Mum do, while you checked?

  Marco: Nothing, just sat in the car with us.

  Officer: Did she get out, Marco? We need to know if she did.

  Marco: No, she didn’t. I know she didn’t.

  Officer: Are you absolutely sure?

  Joe: He’s answered the question.

  Officer: OK, Marco, it’s OK, we just need to be sure. Now did anything else happen, before or as you left?

  Marco: Mum said she saw someone, with a mask on, by one of the houses.

  Officer: Did you see it?

  Marco: I saw something, it could have been a person, but it happened quickly, and I’d been looking down at my phone.

  Excerpt: Karen Goldman interview, Thursday 13th December 2018, 4 pm

  Officer: Thank you, Karen. Now, our search of Debbie’s house uncovered a fascinating item. Might you know what that is?

  Karen: I don’t know, she has a lot of interesting items, you tell me.

  Officer: A bag, purse and phone that did not belong to Debbie. Are you with me?

  Karen: Yes, yes, I am. I can tell you how that got there, though.

  Officer: Please do.

  Karen: We were doing a locker search a few months ago, early October, the day you lot came to the store. Debbie was telling me about her chat with Vincent, and then she opened a locker and found it in there. I told her to hand it in, but she wanted to look at it, find out if there was something on the phone before she did. So, she took it home.

  Officer: Why didn’t she give it to us after she’d looked?

  Karen: I don’t know, I kept telling her to, but she was intent on finding out who’d killed them before she came to you, she thought she’d be safer that way. There was no telling her, until after Dawn died, when she finally was scared enough to stop digging around.

  Officer: Did Debbie tell you about her suspicions regarding Dawn’s death?

  Karen: She told me that Dawn had believed her theory about the girls at work and that it was linked to Janice and Caitlin’s murder. Debbie said Dawn was going to the police. And, after Gill announced that Dawn had died, Debbie told me she’d seen someone at Dawn’s house on Halloween.

  Officer: Did you believe her, about the girls, the person?

  Karen: *sighs* Well, yes maybe, but I wanted to keep out of it. I told her to stay quiet. I mean, look at what happened to Dawn. Look, Debbie is nosy, it’s the way she is, and she’s too smart for her job, so she gets preoccupied when she sees a mystery to solve. She wants to help people, and it’s got her into heaps of trouble. I know how it must look, but she is innocent. That woman is my best friend and she is not a murderer.

  22: Attack at the Garages

  Friday 21st December 2018 - Jade

  Jade clocked out after a gruelling 10-hour shift at the supermarket. The Friday before Christmas was usually one of the busiest days of the year, and today had lived up to expectations. Queues at the checkouts were long, and trolleys crunched against each other in aisles. She’d even seen violence between two customers over the last bag of carrots. Renee intervened, ripped the bag in two and gave them half the loose carrots each. Then, she told them where the carrots would go next if they continued to argue.

  She was keen to get home and rest after working her sixth day in a row. She’d finally got the overtime she wanted because they were yet another supervisor down. She could barely move around the store without hearing someone talking about Debbie Gomez, who had been charged with the murders of three of their colleagues.

  At first, Jade had thought the arrest was a mistake. Out of everyone, Debbie had been the friendliest and most supportive towards her over the last few months. It was almost like Debbie had known she was in trouble and wanted to help.

  But ten days after the arrest, rumours and suspicions about a secret past-life had emerged. Only Karen remained entirely convinced of Debbie’s innocence.

  Jade wandered out through the store and pulled her black coat tight around her. She wanted to hide her uniform to avoid any further questions from customers. She paused only to say goodbye to Gillian and Renee, who were arguing at the supervisor desk.

  “That being said, Renee, we aren’t allowed to sell carrots from those bags loose, so… ah, Jade, you’re off?”

  Gillian’s harried, pinched look from a few months ago had returned in full force since Debbie’s arrest.

  “Yes,” replied Jade. “I wanted to say goodbye and happy Christmas, Gillian, I know you’re going away to see your family tomorrow.”

  “That’s right, yes, of course, I am,” muttered Gillian. She wrinkled her nose and looked back down towards the schedule.

  Renee frowned, then turned towards Jade with a sympathetic smile. Renee looked a little tired too, but she retained a healthy glow that Gillian very much lacked.

  “Are you OK, Jade?” she asked in her low voice. “Have you heard from Junior, I mean, your Dad and the others?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Jade sighed, and remembered that Renee used to spend a lot of time with her oldest brother. “And I won’t. It’s safer that way, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sorry, Jade. You know, I’m around over Christmas, if you want to pop over, or go for a drink?”

  Jade looked up into Renee’s eyes gratefully. Gillian stood in the middle, looking back and forth between them, her nose wrinkled.

  “You can go now, Renee, Karen’s just arrived,” said Gillian. “Her and Mard – I mean Marie will have to hold the fort together tonight, there’s no other option. Off you go then, both of you.”

  Jade exchanged a final smile with Renee and dragged her heavy legs out of the store, desperate for an early night. She hoped not to get a call from the man, giving her instructions on where to go that evening. She was thankful that she was no longer forced to work at The Castle. In the last month, a new group of girls who didn’t speak much English had replaced her there.

  Jade assumed that they could get away with paying these girls less. Or, perhaps the men had started complaining about the cuts on her arms. Either way, she was now made to go out with small groups of others, usually boys, to sell drugs.

  The irony hadn’t escaped Jade. She’d hated her Dad’s businesses, because of the effect drugs had on vulnerable people like her mother. Yet now, she was working for the criminals who’d forced her Dad out of Melwood.

  She tried not to dwell on it too much. She’d escaped The Castle, her savings were building up, and she had her secret way of releasing her frustration that she controlled. She stroked her arms before letting herself into her house.

  She unlocked her bedroom door and switched on the small, second-hand TV set she’d treated herself to a few weeks ago. She lay on the bed and let her eyes close. A theme tune from a soap played, though she could barely hear it as her body was already drifting into sleep. Then her phone rang, and the familiar voice of the bald man crackled down the line.

  “Jade, we need you in South Croydon tonight, we’re going to try selling round the garages.”

  “No, I can’t, please.... I’m so tired,” she whispered, as she struggled to open her eyes.

  “Too tired to stand around and collect money? Come on, Jade. You know how this works. You can go to The Castle instead, for a lie-down, if you’re missing it?”

  Jade fell silent and rubbed her head; she felt a sharp pain behind her eyes.

  “The garages, South Croydon, one hour. The other guys are from New Grange too, you might know them,” he chuckled.

  She hung up the phone, threw it down on the be
d and dug her nails into her forearms. She took off her supermarket uniform and layered herself with T-shirts and a jumper. It wasn’t bitterly cold outside, but cold enough to shiver after a few hours of standing around. She turned off the television and bolted her bedroom door closed again.

  She paused by the kitchen, grabbed someone else’s bottle of vodka from under the sink and stepped into the night. Her body felt warm under her clothes, but the wind whipped her thin, blond hair away from her face and made her cheeks and nose tingle. She took a few welcome sips of vodka, which burnt her throat.

  As soon as she reached the row of old garages, she spotted a huddle of young boys. There were three of them, and by the looks of them, they were indeed from New Grange. She kept her distance and stood on the periphery of their crude and laddish conversation.

  “You buying, love?” one of them shouted at her. He looked a bit younger than her and had a gelled man-bun hairstyle, overbite and a spotty face. She ignored him.

  “You’re a bit early, darling,” leered another shorter, heavier boy. “But I’ve got something for you in the meantime.”

  She grimaced as he grabbed his crotch through his joggers.

  “Enough now,” ordered the third boy, the tallest one. “He’s here.”

  The bald man approached the tall boy and passed him a large package.

  “Sorry I’m late. I was talking to the boss. She’s not happy at the moment, so you had better do well tonight. Right then,” he announced, in his East London drawl. “Lay low and wait for the buyers to come to you. Everything is up by £10 a bag and no negotiation, ‘cos they can’t get it anywhere else. Alright?”

  They all nodded.

  “Look after blondie,” he gestured towards Jade. “She’s with you tonight, selling.”

  The boys turned to Jade with surprised looks on their faces, but they nodded again. After he left, she followed the boys around the back of the garages, which bordered an old housing estate.