Through the downpour, she could hear him slipping and sliding in the dirt. At first, she thought he would walk on by without noticing her, but then he stopped running. His looming figure stood a few feet from her in the darkness.
Missy felt her pulse quicken, her muscles tighten. Her breath became more heavy and rapid, while a small, girlish whine crept through. She pulled her hands closer, silencing herself as best she could.
But it was too late.
The man stepped towards her, looking over his shoulder as if he were about to reveal a big secret. Had he seen her? If he hadn’t, then he would surely figure it out soon.
Missy held herself tighter, shivering in the wet bush. She had never really believed in God, but was now silently praying that, should she make it out of here alive, she would–
The hand rocketed towards her, groping her torn dress. ‘Get over here,’ the man spat, while dragging her towards him. He was angrier now than he had ever been.
Desperate to break free, Missy kicked and screamed. Mud kicked out from under her, but it was no use. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get away from him. She had tried to run, failed, and now he was dragging her towards her inevitable end.
2
‘I want a divorce.’
It was that simple; the four words that could bring the strongest of men to their knees. Mason wanted to drop to his knees, but pride wouldn’t allow. Instead, he recovered from his shock, took a big, dry swallow and said, ‘Okay.’
‘Okay? Okay?’ Sandra screamed at him, dropping dishes into the kitchen sink. ‘You’re not even asking why?’
Mason could barely believe this. He desperately searched for an explanation. ‘You think I work too much. You honestly believe I don’t care about you? Look at the room you’re in. My work paid for this. Without that, we wouldn’t be able to have the family we have.’
‘Give it up, Mason. You’re not even a real cop.’ Although Sandra’s eyes usually held an inquisitive light, there was nothing but regret as she mumbled these words.
It stung for Mason, too. After all, he had given up his work as a detective so as he could spend more time with the family. After he’d set up a casual business as a private investigator, he could see the family becoming far happier. Perhaps that was why it shook him so much to suddenly hear his wife’s unhappiness.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘But I’m just not happy. I want you to leave.’
‘Leave? Sandra, this is my house, too.’
‘Please, just give us some space.’
Mason stood blankly, trying to figure out where this had come from. His eyes subconsciously drifted to the dining table, where a half-empty bottle of wine stood opened. That’s not enough to get her drunk, he thought, dismissing the notion that this outburst was driven by inebriation. ‘Fine. I’ll take a couple days. We’ll talk in the morning.’ He was halfway out the door when she caught up to him, nipping at his heel like an aggressive dog.
‘No, Mason. I want you out, gone. I want a divorce. Are you hearing me? D-i-v-o-r–’
‘What exactly is wrong with you, huh?’ Mason stopped and turned. ‘Why aren’t we just working things out like we usually do? That’s how it works. You tell me what’s wrong and I fix it, then you realise that it’s not enough and the cycle starts again. Why can’t we just go back to that?’
For once, Sandra was quiet, assessing him in silence. ‘No. It wasn’t making me happy. Just go. Wait until I call you. Understood?’
Mason grabbed his coat furiously. ‘Fine. Fine. I want to say goodbye to Amy.’ He pictured the hurt on his daughter’s face if she’d been here to hear all this. Thankfully, she was in her room, chilling out with music like most thirteen-year-olds.
‘No. Not now.’ Sandra edged him towards the door. ‘Just go and wait. Like I said.’
Mason was about to protest when the cell phone jingled in his pocket. A quick glance told him that it was Evelyn, his sister and best friend, but every bit his opposite. If it were anybody else he might have ignored it, but Evie was more than his sister–she was his news correspondent.
‘I’ll come by tomorrow,’ he said to Sandra, and headed out the door, unintentionally proving her point. He could picture her shaking her head behind him.
‘Don’t bother.’ The door slammed as soon as the words left her lips.
Steeling himself to head into the downpour, Mason took the call. ‘Hey, Evie.’
‘Hey. Are you busy?’ The urgency in her voice demanded attention.
‘What is it?’
‘It’s Missy Daniels… they’ve found her body.’
3
Mason pulled up to the beachfront parking lot and immediately saw the commotion. An officer recognised the car and waved him through. He parked, squeezed his way through the nosey crowd and reached the police tape.
‘Well, you have a face like thunder.’ Evie stopped him with a concerning look behind her thick, black-rimmed glasses. She looked every bit the intellectual that she was. The camera in her hand suggested she was press, but she was more like an independent blogger, made famous by publishing a hasty report on the reveal of a government agency the previous year. Entrepreneurship ran in the family.
‘It’s a long story,’ Mason told her, keen to focus on the task. ‘Have you seen Bill?’
‘Yep. This way.’
Evie raised the tape to allow him access. Mason, approached by a police officer, flashed his PI badge and flicked up the collar of his trench coat before walking on. The rain was heavy enough to soak through, but that was the least of his worries.
‘Mason.’ Detective Bill Harvey shook his hand. ‘Thanks for coming.’
It was comforting to Mason that he still had a friend in his ex-partner. Ever since leaving the force, Bill had remained as a solid and reliable part of his life.
‘I’ll give you boys a minute,’ Evie said, before disappearing into the crowd.
‘It’s a confirmed match, Mason. Missy Daniels. Apparently you were working the case?’
‘I was.’ Mason looked down at the body and felt immediate sadness. ‘What happened here?’
‘Strangled to death. We think the body was moved here afterwards.’ Bill knelt and pointed at the lacerations. ‘These cuts were made before, we think.’
The scene before him was a bloody mess. The girl was naked, her body spread into the shape of a star. The small finger of her left hand had been removed with either surgical precision, or one swift swipe of a blade. Her eyes were wide with fear and her skin was already paling, but the most concerning of all was the message.
‘None for the dame?’ Mason asked, reading the arranged pile of rocks by the girl’s feet.
‘That’s why I called you, buddy. We think it’s him.’
Mason felt his heart skip a beat, his face heating with rage and panic in spite of the cooling shower from the rain. ‘I thought he’d stopped. I hoped…’
‘I know, but it matches the pattern. So, look, this is Baa, Baa, Black Sheep, right?’ Bill went on. ‘So, I was thinking that it might be because the girl is black?’ But he was a detective of the San Francisco Police Department and should have been smart enough to know better.
‘No. It’s just a stupid lullaby. His own twisted way of showing off.’ Mason turned and began to stalk off.
‘Where are you going?’
‘I took the case. I want to tell the girl’s mother before she sees it on the news.’
Bill simply nodded as a gust of wind swept across the ocean and blasted rain at them in a furious wave. Drenched, freezing and disturbed, Mason headed back to his Mustang, where Evie stood with her back pressed to the door.
‘Get off.’ Mason waved a hand. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘What does it look like? I’m coming with you.’ She removed her rain-speckled glasses. It was her usual signal that she was ready for action. ‘I need a ride home.’
Mason sighed. ‘Get in. I need to make a stop on the way.’
‘Sur
e,’ Evie said. ‘Whatever it takes to spend time with my brother.’
If only she’d known what was really happening.
4
Look at these morons. They’re nothing but sheep.
The Lullaby Killer stood among the crowd, but he wasn’t one of them. The way they pushed and shoved at each other to see the body first only repulsed him.
How sick can somebody be? How eager to share the news that they’d seen a dead girl? Did they want to show off to their peers, and then go to sleep at night feeling as though they’d been let in on a secret? It’s fucking insane!
But he had seen it first, and nobody could take that away from him.
There was a small gap in the crowd, just enough to see his own masterpiece. He couldn’t deny it; leaving a message in the rocks was a nice touch. It was just enough to make it look like a signature, but not enough to lead them to him. There was no real meaning to it, only the first thing that had come to his mind: sheep.
And everybody would pity the bright and beautiful young Missy Daniels. Oh, but she wasn’t poor. That was how they always described the kids: Poor Missy Daniels. Truth was, there had been nothing poor about her. She’d been smart and pretty, and everybody had loved her. Top of her class. A real bitch.
As if to break him from his moment of pride, the killer saw something he hadn’t seen in years. The black Shelby Mustang parked to the side of the road and the detective climbed out. His blood thickened as he watched him stroll towards the scene, prepared to tackle the crime once again.
I thought he had retired from the police force.
Considering how close Mr Black had come to catching him all those years ago, the Lullaby Killer was going to have to be more careful. Any move he was yet to make would be inspected closely by the detective, and he wouldn’t be stopped now.
Determined to get out of the rain, the killer moved away from the crowd. What else could he do tonight, if not go on the prowl for his next victim? It would be the perfect distraction for him, that euphoric sensation of power as he made the little fuckers beg and scream.
Why can’t these people see that I’m helping them? Isn’t it obvious that I only target the douchebags, the privileged, and the kids with spoilt upbringings? I’m making the next generation a better one, too. They bring it on themselves.
Still, he would have plenty of time to show them, to make them understand.
The killer headed back to his vehicle, started up the engine and began his search for the next victim.
5
Evie – as small as her brother was big – sat reclined in the passenger seat. If Mason knew her as well as he thought he did, she was fighting the urge to put her feet up on the dashboard. She was learning, and that was good.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, sensing that something was wrong.
‘I have to swing by Missy’s house. Somebody needs to tell her parents.’
‘Sure, but it doesn’t always have to be you.’
Mason said nothing.
‘So, do you think it’s him? Is he back?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, his eyes fixed on the road. ‘Could be.’
‘You don’t suspect a copycat?’ Evie persisted.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘I just don’t.’ Mason huffed just loud enough to make the hint, but it seemed not to land.
‘Come on, you must have some–’
‘Look,’ he snapped, ‘I don’t know any more than you at this point. I have enough on my mind without having to worry about leaking details to the press.’
‘The press? Is that all I am to you? Geez, thanks a lot.’
They sat in silence for the rest of the journey, the car speeding through deep puddles. When they arrived, Mason took a deep breath, climbed out of the Mustang and prepared himself.
‘Sorry,’ Evie mumbled, but Mason shut the door. If she wanted to apologise, he would have rather she’d done it when he didn’t have his back turned.
Shaking off the uneasy mood of the conversation, Mason stepped up to the house, an upmarket place, surprisingly nice for an unemployed single mother. He rapped upon the door, unsure of exactly how to phrase what he had to say.
The door popped open and a tired-looking black woman stood watching him. She must have sensed something was wrong, as she didn’t say a word. Shaking, she retreated into her house and Mason let himself in, shutting out the rain behind him. He didn’t want to take another step, worried that he would drench her hallway carpet, so he stopped her there.
‘I’m sorry, Joanna.’ It was all he could find to say.
Joanna turned and stared coldly at him. It wasn’t long before her lip began to quiver and she fell to her knees, exhausted of all hope.
Mason had never been good at this kind of thing. Regardless, he stepped forward and knelt by her side. ‘I’m really sorry. I did everything I could.’
‘No…’ Joanna sobbed. ‘You didn’t. If you’d tried – really tried – then you would have returned my baby girl.’ Her words became snivelling noises as she buried her face in her hands.
‘The police will be here shortly to give you the official statement. Would you like me to wait with you until then?’ On some level, he was hoping she would say no–he had his own problems to deal with, anyway.
‘Get him.’
‘Pardon me?’
Joanna lifted her face, mascara streaming down her cheeks. ‘Whoever took my little girl. I want you to get him and kill him.’
Mason had dealt with reactions like this before, although it never got any easier. ‘I can’t do that. The police have far more power. I suspect they’re doing everything they–’
‘Then go!’ she screamed. ‘Go, if that’s all you’re good for. Just take your ass outta here!’
Standing to leave, he put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off violently. Mason took the hint and went for the door.
‘You didn’t even try,’ Joanna whimpered just before the door closed.
Stepping out into the rain, Mason traipsed slowly to his car, not caring whether he got any wetter. You don’t know the half of it, he thought.
6
Mason stopped the car outside his sister’s apartment and shut off the engine.
‘Why don’t you team with the police on this one?’ Evie asked, only trying to help.
‘The case is done. I told you, I failed.’
‘You know this wasn’t your fault, right? What that guy did…’
‘I know.’ Mason hated to think that she was giving him sympathetic attention. ‘It’s just that I have some problems with Sandra. She kicked me out earlier.’
Evie sat forward and turned to him. ‘Oh. I’m… do you want somewhere to stay?’
‘No. No.’ Mason waved his hand. ‘I’ll head someplace else.’
‘You sound unsure…’
Mason stared out the window at the rain. San Francisco had never looked as gloomy as it did right now. Grey clouds lurked above them as the sun was setting. Rain drizzled down and pattered the puddles, and the swishing of the windshield wipers was hypnotic.
‘I really think you should consider it.’ Evie sat back, determined not to leave.
‘Consider what?’
‘Joining the SFPD. It’s better pay, right? Some structure to help you through your dark times? I mean, if you’re working the case anyway.’
‘I’m not working the case. I told you that.’ Mason was getting riled up now. He hated to be badgered into doing something he didn’t want to do. At any other time in his life, he may have considered going after the killer. But as long as Sandra was causing him grief, he knew that he couldn’t give the case his fullest attention.
‘But you should.’
Mason got out of the car, walked around and opened the passenger side door. ‘Goodnight, Evie,’ he said firmly, soaking in the downpour.
Evie stared at him blankly, got out and whispered in his ear, ‘Keep me in the loop.’ And then she was gone,
leaving Mason regretting his overreaction.
With everything weighing him down, he drove back to his office, which he barely used these days–the study at home made just as good an office. Inside, it was cold and musty. Dust motes floated around under the dimly lit bulb.
‘What a dump,’ he said to himself, looking around the room. It felt like it belonged to a different man now. He approached his liquor cabinet, took the bottle of Jack Daniels and slumped into the clients’ armchair.
Six glasses and two hours later, Mason drifted into an uncomfortable sleep, in which he saw nothing but the tears of Missy Daniels’s mother and the message made from the arrangement of rocks.
None for the dame.
7
Mason woke up in the afternoon with a severe case of cottonmouth and a series of missed calls from Bill. I know exactly what he’s after.
Noting the time, he sprang up and quickly washed himself in the office’s bathroom sink and headed out the door. For a minute, he’d considered taking his car, but despite the heavy rain, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. The alcohol was still giving him a headache.
When he got to the school, he waited by the buses. He probably looked suspicious but he really didn’t care. There was one thing he wanted and he was going to get it.
‘Dad?’ Amy stepped away from the bus line, barely believing her eyes. She was a beautiful girl, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Small and thin – especially for a thirteen-year-old – but not unlikeable. She had nothing of her father’s rugged features or her mom’s dark-haired Greek complexion.
‘Hey, honey. I thought I’d walk you home. Maybe get some pizza?’ He took her in his arms and waved to his daughter’s friends, who had been round for sleepovers many times in the past few years.
‘Sure. Here.’ She popped open an umbrella and handed it to Mason, who held her close and sheltered them both as best he could.
When they got to the pizza parlour, they took a seat by the window and watched the rain. It was one of his favourite things to do, since he rarely saw such terrible weather.
Mason Black (The Complete Collection): 6 Gripping Crime Stories: The Complete Collection + BONUS Story Page 2