6.0 - The Face Behind The Mask

by Helen Phifer

  Will walked into his office and shut the door. Sitting down at his desk, he sighed.

  ‘I think you’re right, Matt. I can’t put my finger on it, but I don’t think he’s going to stop at this. We have no motive whatsoever at the moment and no suspects. It might take a while before he finds another victim and plucks up the courage to do it again, but that’s both of us who think that he will kill again. Bollocks.’

  Will leant forward on his desk, his head leaning on one hand to support it and the other holding the phone to his ear.

  ‘We need to find out how he knew Pauline. How did he get into her house? There’s no obvious signs of a forced entry. All the windows and doors were shut.’

  ‘What’s to say she didn’t leave a window open? It’s been warm of an evening this past week. He could have climbed through, waited for her and left through the front or back door.’

  ‘I’ll get the search team to check all the window frames again. Thanks, Matt.’

  ‘You’re welcome; that’s what I’m here for. How are Annie and the baby?’

  ‘Good, both of them are great to be exact. As long as she keeps out of this and any other murder case for the rest of our lives we should be just fine.’

  Matt laughed on the other end of the phone and ended the call. Will looked through the glass partition at the whiteboard where Pauline Cook’s picture was stuck up with a lump of Blu-Tack. Whoever had put it there hadn’t even bothered to make sure it was straight. He walked out to peel it off and stick it back much straighter. It was all about respect.

  He stood in front of her picture, staring into her kind green eyes. If she didn’t go out or have many friends and the only place she worked was at the hospice, it had to have been there that she’d met her killer. A voice in his head whispered: or on the bus, at the corner shop, in Tesco, at the petrol station. She could have met him anywhere. He went back into his office, closed the door and sat down again. Adele knocked and he beckoned her in.

  She came in and shut the door behind her. ‘Morning, are you okay?’

  He nodded. ‘I think we should go to speak with as many staff at the hospice as we can. We need a list of all the families whose dying relatives she’s sat with and the staff there. At least then Shona can check them all on the system and see if anyone rings any alarm bells, see if there’s any previous.’

  ‘It could have been an angry family member; maybe she told them to have a break and the patient died while they weren’t there.’

  ‘Could be. Would be a line of inquiry worth pursuing, wouldn’t it. Would a grieving relative be so angry they’d go and kill a good Samaritan for only trying to help them through their suffering, though?’

  ‘Will, you know as well as I do there is no rhyme or reason to any of this needless violence. People can flip over the slightest thing. Come on, I’ll buy you a decent coffee if you direct me to the nearest Costa on the way. There’s no milk in the fridge and Brad is sulking because he said it was your turn to bring some in.’

  This cheered him up and he smiled. ‘Tough, I completely forgot. Brad’s a big boy. He can cross the road and go to Asda without an adult now. I won’t say no to a proper coffee, though.’

  Chapter Twelve

  Walter sat in his room, cursing the couple who lived above him. Because of their inability to live with each other like normal people, the coppers now knew who he was. They knew his name and address. What else do they know, Walter? Do they know what you’ve done? The voice from across the room was loud and clear. He didn’t even look over at the clown suit, hoping that if he ignored it the voice would shut up.

  He stood up and began pacing, trying to calm himself down. He was overreacting. They didn’t know anything about him or what he’d done, did they? How could they? He’d never been in trouble with the police, although there had been times when his schizophrenia had almost landed him in it. But he’d always taken his medicine like a good boy so he didn’t go completely batshit crazy.

  He stole a glance at the suit. Then why are you hearing the voices coming from it? He shrugged; there was nothing to link him to Pauline. Apart from the hospice and the fact she’d been nice to his gran whenever he’d visited. Yes, Walter, what on earth were you thinking? How could you do that to a lovely woman whose only crime was wanting to help?

  He lifted his hands to his ears, covering them up and trying to block out the sound of his gran’s voice inside his head. She would be so disappointed with him; he saw his reflection in the small, cracked mirror on top of the chest of drawers and turned away. He didn’t want to look at himself. He was a disgrace. He could feel the wave of anger rising in his chest.

  He’d done it because it was the right thing to do. She was going to die anyway, wasn’t she? He’d just given her a helping hand, saved her the months of misery. When that fat, ugly fuck from upstairs came home from the hospital he was going to finish off what his stupid bird hadn’t for getting him into this mess. He was another waste of space and Walter would be doing the world a favour by getting rid of him. That would teach him a lesson.

  He just hoped he was out of hospital before the coppers realised that he’d killed Pauline, because he was going to enjoy killing the wife-beating motherfucker. See how big and hard he was when he had a six-foot clown with a huge carving knife standing over him; see if he begged for forgiveness. Walter felt the anger and rage take over, blotting out the guilt that had been wracking his body. He felt the shame slip away.

  That was better. What he’d done was done. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad about killing wankers – and if that bastard Jacko didn’t pay him what he owed him tomorrow he’d be next on the list. Walter was so angry now that all the guilt had vanished.

  He looked at the clown suit and once more wondered who had owned it. Maybe it was possessed; he’d watched countless reruns of The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits when he was a kid. There were always stories on there about stuff that had belonged to people who’d done terrible things being passed on or bought by innocent people and turning them into killers.

  He had no doubt that whoever had worn the suit hadn’t been the sort of happy-go-lucky clown that paraded around in front of the circus ring. No, he knew for a fact that the man who’d worn this had been evil. He wished he’d never brought it home with him and tried it on. It was as if it had a hold over him; maybe he should get rid of it, but he didn’t want to – at least not yet.

  He’d see how things went. Hopefully the police wouldn’t come looking for him. He’d been careful. He’d never been arrested for anything in his life; his DNA wasn’t on any databases – or his fingerprints. He’d never even had his name taken when he was a kid for anything. They would have their work cut out looking for him. For the first time in a couple of hours he smiled, feeling much better about it again.

  Lifting the suit off its hanger he undressed until he was in his boxers then stepped inside of it. It felt like a second skin and seemed to stick to him as if it was fusing with him, making the costume and himself one. He sat down in his chair, in the clown suit, and began to rock himself backwards and forwards, soothing away the anger, which was threatening to disperse and leave him with the heavy burden of guilt.

  __________________________

  Annie grabbed her phone off the table where she’d been charging it. Her new rule was never go anywhere without a fully charged phone. How many times had she needed one and had no battery? She bent down to turn the socket off and felt an icy cold blast of air cross the back of her neck, making all the tiny hairs stand on end and making her shudder.

  She paused. Was that her breathing or was there someone standing behind her? The temperature had definitely dropped. Forcing herself to straighten up, she turned around, expecting to see someone there. She was on her own, but it was so cold. Blowing out, she saw the white fog as her breath clouded in front of her eyes. She held her hand out in front of her. Pretending that it wasn’t shaking and that she could handle this, she passed her hand through the cold spot.
She moved her hand from side to side. Either side of the spot was warm. It was just the space directly in front of her.

  ‘Who are you and what do you want?’

  It didn’t matter how many times these incidents happened, they still scared her until she knew who it was she was dealing with. The air felt as if it was full of static electricity.

  ‘If you want me to help you, you have to tell me who you are or at least show yourself.’

  If she could have kicked herself she would have. It was as if she just invited whoever it was to make themselves at home. The tension in the room was so fraught she wondered if something terrible was going to happen. A wave of helplessness washed over her and then it was gone. The temperature rose as fast as it had fallen and everything felt normal once more. She looked around, hoping to see there was no one standing in her house who shouldn’t be, and then she ran to the front door and threw it open so hard it put a dint in the smooth, plastered wall.

  Shit. What do I tell Will? Sorry, darling, we’ve got another resident ghost who just happens to be a bit shy. But don’t worry – as soon as they introduce themselves we can all hang out together. She walked over to her car, not turning around to look back at her house. The last thing she wanted was to see the shadowy figure of a complete stranger inside her home.

  Not realising how badly her hands were shaking until she tried to get the key in the ignition, she managed to start the car. Pressing the call button on the steering wheel she decided it was finally time to ring Derek Edmondson and see if he could help her. The phone began to ring through the speakers, filling the entire car with the sound of his voice.

  ‘Hello.’

  Annie paused. Should she drag him into this? Hadn’t she caused him enough heartache in the past? Yes, she had, but she had to make sure her home was safe for Alfie. She couldn’t put the most precious thing in her life at risk in any way whatsoever and she knew Derek would understand. Besides, she only wanted his advice. She didn’t expect him to come and sort it out for her.

  ‘Derek, it’s Annie Graham. How are you?’

  ‘Annie, how are you, my dear? Are you still chasing criminals?’

  Guilt set in. She hadn’t bothered to tell him about Alfie when she was pregnant, yet here she was expecting him to come to her rescue.

  ‘I’m good, thanks. I’ve had a baby. Well, he’s not so tiny now; he’s eight months old.’

  ‘Oh my goodness, has it been that long since we’ve spoken? Well, that’s lovely news and congratulations to you both. I read about that dreadful man escaping, but not until it had all ended and he was dead. I was in hospital; I haven’t been very well. My old ticker gave me a bit of a fright, but I’m on the mend and very bored. My sister won’t let me do anything strenuous, which includes most of my favourite activities.’

  Annie heard his sister muttering in the background and she smiled.

  ‘Oh, Derek, I’m so sorry to hear you’ve been poorly. Why didn’t you let me know? I would have come to visit you.’

  ‘That’s precisely why I didn’t. You are a very busy woman and even more so now. You don’t need to be worrying about an old bugger like me.’

  Annie felt terrible and decided she wasn’t even going to mention her house and what had just happened. Whatever it was, she would have to sort it out herself.

  ‘Tell me, did you need my help with anything?’

  ‘No, I wanted to speak to you and see how you are.’

  ‘Well, that’s very kind of you. I’m good and I’m glad to hear that you are.’

  ‘I am, thanks. I’ll let you go then. I won’t leave it as long next time and please don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything. I’m still on maternity leave and very bored so I can always come and visit.’

  ‘That would be lovely; thank you, Annie. Oh, and Annie, before you go, if you need me I’m here. You know that, don’t you?’

  ‘I do. Thanks, Derek.’

  She ended the call and felt bad. She’d been so self-absorbed and wrapped up in her own world she hadn’t even bothered to check if he was okay. She parked in the car park next to the police van where Jake was sitting, head bent down and typing away on his phone. He didn’t even notice her until she’d got out of the car, fed her loose change into the machine to get a ticket that she’d attached to her window, and then walked around to his side of the van and slammed her hands against the glass. Jake swore, jumping and letting his phone fall from his hands into the footwell. Annie was laughing so hard at the look of shock on his face she had to cross her legs.

  ‘What the fuck you doing? You gave me a heart attack.’

  ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help it. What were you doing that had you so engrossed?’

  He held up a big black phone that looked like a cross between a phone and a tablet.

  ‘Trying to update this pile of shite. Cathy was on one this morning about us not keeping them up to date.’

  ‘What the hell is it?’

  ‘Your worst nightmare come true, that’s what it is. It’s our new pocket notebook. You can get the current logs up, search PNC and get your emails up as well as use the phone. It’s brilliant when it works; only problem is, working around here with such shite coverage, it’s a ball-ache. You are going to love it when you come back to work.’

  Annie let out a groan. She was a complete technophobe.

  ‘Great, so as well as not being able to pair up with anyone I’m supposed to use that thing on my own without supervision. You know you’re not selling me on coming back to work at all, Jake.’

  ‘Aw, don’t say that, kid. We’ll sort something out. By the time you come back these will have all broke and we’ll be back to using pens and paper. Nobody can keep us apart. It would be like splitting up Morecambe and Wise. We come as a pair and they’ll just have to accept it. Cathy won’t let you out on your own anyway because you’re too much of a liability, so I’ll make her assign me to be your bodyguard.’

  ‘I’m quite capable of working on my own. I managed quite well before I had Alfie and you know I did. None of what happened was technically my fault and a couple of times no one was there to save my arse anyway and I had to save myself. So thank you for the offer, Captain America, but I’ll manage.’

  Jake pretended to look as if she’d just mortally wounded him. ‘Yeah, I suppose so. Come on, I need sustenance. I’m starving.’

  Annie smiled. That was what she loved about Jake. He would put his foot in it and she would tell him off and then they’d be straight back to being best friends. There was nothing complicated about their relationship. It was simply friendship at its best and she was glad she had him in her life. A life without Jake wouldn’t be worth living. She pushed his arm and he shoved her back.

  ‘You’re always starving.’

  ‘And you always want coffee.’

  ‘Aren’t we just a match made in heaven?’

  Both of them started laughing as they walked the short distance to the quaint coffee shop in the village. They looked quite a sight: the huge policeman in full uniform with the much shorter woman dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt. The tourists couldn’t help themselves from looking at the pair of them laughing and chattering away, all of them smiling to themselves. It was refreshing to see a policeman who looked as if he was normal and not afraid to be himself.

  As they walked into the shop they were greeted by the sight of Jo standing behind the counter, slicing up a huge chocolate cake. Jo looked up and smiled at them both.

  ‘Well, what a glorious sight you two are.’

  Jake winked at Annie. ‘Thank you. I have to say you look pretty impressive yourself standing there.’

  A faint blush rose up Jo’s cheeks. She was much quieter than the pair of them. Annie nodded her head in agreement with Jake. It was amazing to see the woman who had saved her life and almost lost hers in the process standing there, looking a picture of health. Jo wore a blouse, buttoned up almost to the top to cover the large, puckered, angry scar where her
husband, Heath, had buried the axe into her neck, almost killing her. Unable to stop herself, Annie threw herself at Jo and hugged her tight.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Because you’re too cool and I’m always going to have to hug you for the rest of your life whenever I see you.’

  Jo laughed. ‘People will talk about us, Annie.’ She winked and Annie started laughing. Jake began to unzip his luminous yellow body armour and slip it off his shoulders.

  ‘The usual please, Jo.’

  Jo nodded; she didn’t need telling. These two were her favourite customers in the whole world.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Will squeezed into the small parking space on the street in front of the hospice. He didn’t relish having to go in and disturb the staff. They were busy enough without having them intruding. As if reading his mind, Adele smiled at him.

  ‘Come on, we don’t have to put them out too much. We can ask to speak to the manager or whoever is in charge, and if they’re busy we can make an appointment to come back another time.’

  ‘Yes, we can. That’s a good idea.’

  He walked up the path, wondering why on earth someone would want to murder someone so kind and caring like Pauline Cook. It didn’t make any sense. As they opened the glass-fronted door Will was expecting it to smell like a hospital and was pleasantly surprised that it didn’t. He’d been expecting the smell of death to linger in the air and everyone to be walking around crying into tissues. Instead he was greeted by a friendly receptionist, who listened to his request and asked them to take a seat while she bleeped the manager.

  He looked at Adele who nodded. Both of them sat in silence waiting until a woman who looked around the same age as Annie came rushing up the corridor and stopped in front of them.

  ‘Hello, you must be the detectives? I’m Diane Porter, the manager; would you like to come into my office? We’re all in shock about Pauline. She was such a lovely lady. I can’t believe it.’