by Helen Phifer
‘Is that, I’ll think about it you can bugger off or I’ll think about it maybe?’
Lucy grinned, her daughter was one of the most perceptive people she knew. ‘It’s an “I’ll think about it maybe”, but if you keep pestering then it’s a definite no.’
Ellie jumped up and hugged her. ‘Thanks, Mum, I hope your head gets better soon. If I don’t have to babysit can I go and see Amber tonight instead?’
‘Yes, but I’ll drive you there and get your dad to pick you up.’ What she really wanted to do was to tell her she wasn’t allowed to leave the house until they’d caught the killer, but she couldn’t. Her job made her far too overprotective as it was. There was nothing to suggest he would even know who Ellie was. He had an agenda and a reason for who he was killing and why. She just prayed he stuck with the older people and didn’t start working his way down the younger end of the list.
Chapter Sixty-Two
June 1995
He sat at the small desk in his room staring at the notebook, trying his best to ignore the voices in his head which were telling him how special and untouchable he was. He’d just spent the last hour drawing a detailed plan of how to murder Sharon in the back of it. He called it his murder book; on each page was a different murder weapon and method of death. He preferred it when he could watch them bleed and see the blood. That was why he liked slitting the rabbits’ throats; he could watch them as their life pumped out of them. He’d like to do that to Sharon who was nothing but a complete bitch to him. He’d had to be nice to her since the other week when she’d accused him of being a freak in front of Paul. Her time was coming though; until he could kill her without getting caught the next best thing was to dream about the different ways to do it. He hadn’t showered for days or changed his clothes – it seemed like too much hard work and who really cared? Why should he bother? No one talked to him at school anymore. What friends he’d had were as bad as the rest of them, all talking about him and laughing. He did his best to not go, but the school had phoned the home and Paul had gone mental about it. Angie had come back off her holidays, and he’d had to explain to her that he’d lost the rabbit. Her eyes had been so sad that it had made him feel a little bit bad; she was always so nice to him. She’d looked at him funny and hadn’t really bothered with him since, only talking to him when she had to.
Paul’s loud voice woke him from his trance.
‘You better be ready to go because I’m not going to be late for my appointment.’
He stood up, forgetting to hide his notebook like he usually did. Leaving it on his desk for anyone to find. He hated Paul as well, maybe he should kill them all. Slit all their throats, one by one when they were sleeping and set fire to the home to get rid of the evidence. This made him smile to himself as he walked down the stairs and out to the waiting car with its engine revving. He got into the back seat.
‘Don’t you go skiving today either; if I get called to that school one more time about you not attending your classes I’m not going to be very happy. I haven’t got the time to listen to them moaning about what a freak you’re turning into. Oh, and when you get home get a shower and a change of clothes wouldn’t go amiss, otherwise I’m going to stand you out back and run the hosepipe over you. Understand?’
He nodded, not speaking because he couldn’t be bothered. He didn’t really speak to anyone now, just the occasional grunt or nod of his head. The car stopped at the school gates, and he got out, wondering if he should go to the library instead. They pretty much left him alone in there, where he’d sit reading the books and making notes. Forcing himself to go inside, he made his way to the form room.
Today’s teacher was an arse; she was a supply teacher with an attitude on her that made him want to ram his fist down her throat and choke her to death. All she did was pick on the kids like him, the freaks, the Goths, the quiet ones; Andy who was about the only person in the whole school he felt sorry for was sitting next to him, his head bent, and he knew he would be hoping that she didn’t single him out. He had a stammer and when put under pressure it was painful to listen to. She left Andy alone and went for him instead, which brought a smile to his face.
‘You, what homework were you given last time?’
He shrugged.
‘What’s the matter, don’t you speak? Cat got your tongue? I’m asking you a question and I expect an answer.’
Sharon who was watching them, chewing her gum and blowing bubbles, laughed. ‘Miss, he’s a freak. I wouldn’t wind him up, he might kill you like he kills all the pet rabbits.’
He stared at her, daring her to say anything else. She laughed at him, and he knew then that her time was almost up.
The teacher stared at him. ‘That’s not a very nice thing to say, Sharon. You don’t kill pet bunnies, do you? Have you heard what they say about kids who kill their pets? They’re weirdos who turn into serial killers. Do you like serial killers? Do you lie in bed at night dreaming about being best friends with the Yorkshire Ripper?’
The whole class, apart from Andy who looked horrified, burst into laughter. He was up and out of his chair before anyone even realised. He had his hands around the bitch of a teacher’s neck and was choking the life out of her, pinning her against the whiteboard. The laughter had turned to screams as his classmates watched on as the teacher’s face began to turn purple, and then it was over. He was being dragged off by the head teacher and deputy.
They dragged him out of the class and down the corridor to the empty isolation room, threw him in and locked the door. He looked at their panicked faces through the small glass window and laughed. That would teach the silly cow to mess with him. He didn’t care if he’d killed her, although he doubted that he had. Strolling over to the empty teacher’s chair he flopped down onto it, put his feet on the desk and gave them both the finger.
It was some time before they came back for him, this time with two coppers following behind them. He was completely unfazed by it and had managed to rip apart every book and piece of work he could find in the room. He was pacing up and down, when they opened the door and the coppers stepped in.
‘You have to come with us, you’re under arrest.’
He turned to stare at them. The next thing he knew he was running towards them as fast as he could yelling: ‘kill you all; you can’t touch me I’m the prince of darkness.’
The head teacher looked at them and shrugged. Stepping out of the line of fire, he pushed the copper nearest to him towards the angry, young man. There was a lot of shouting and the next thing he knew he was on his back. One of them sitting on his chest, the other handcuffing him. He carried on lashing out until he felt something heavy smash against the side of his head.
Chapter Sixty-Three
For the first time since the discovery of Sandy Kilburn’s body Lucy woke up feeling refreshed. She’d dropped Ellie off at her friend’s then gone home and gone back to bed. George had promised to pick her up, and she knew that he would. He was a lot of things but a complete pushover when it came to his daughter. Well almost; it would have been easier if he’d agreed to her having a cat. Lucy didn’t really want one; she was too lazy to be responsible for a pet. Being a parent was bad enough and that had been her choice. Grabbing her phone off the bedside table she was surprised it hadn’t rung or vibrated, and she felt as if she was redundant. She’d give Browning a chance to get to work and then she’d ring; if it was Mattie she’d have phoned him at home now. He’d have gone mad, but updated her, even better he’d have called in to see her on his way. She couldn’t do that with Browning because they didn’t have that sort of friendship. His wife might not appreciate his boss ringing him all hours of the day and night. She got up and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked awful. Her face didn’t look much better, though the swelling had gone down a little. The bruising was darker this morning. At least she didn’t need to worry about people seeing her because she had no intention of leaving the house, despite the fact that she wanted
to be back at work, there in the middle of it all, hunting down the killer, only she knew she couldn’t. She needed to keep her mind occupied because otherwise she’d drive herself mad.
Halfway through the second episode of Luther her phone finally rang. She paused it on Idris Elba’s face, so she had something worthwhile to stare at. It wasn’t Browning’s voice.
‘How’s my favourite police officer this morning? I missed you yesterday afternoon.’
‘I’ve been better, thank you, Catherine. I think you’re probably the only person to ever say that. How did it go?’
‘It was a long one. I think Simon was wishing he’d caught up with you after the post-mortem, if you get my drift.’
This made Lucy chuckle. ‘Yeah, kind of serves him right in a way. Although I suppose he was only doing his job.’
‘Well, the cause of death was the two wounds to the neck, and the slash wounds were post-mortem as I suspected. His clothes, although saturated in blood, had no cuts or tears in them. Do you want the good news?’
‘If you have any, yes please.’
‘I found a single cat hair, which, in my opinion, is the same as the previous two samples I’ve taken. That’s not confirmed yet. I’ve just got off the phone to my friend who is testing them; he’s sending me a photo of the kind of cat they’re from. Apparently it’s an expensive breed. Not your average kitty. He said that there will be a register of the local owners of that breed on the Active Register. So if you contact all the vets in the area they should be able to give you the addresses. How am I doing?’
‘If I was standing next to you I’d bloody kiss you, that’s amazing news. It’s going to help narrow down the suspect list. Thank you so much. I’ll get Col on with that.’ Lucy stopped, remembering she wasn’t in work to tell Col.
‘You can phone him, or do you want me to?’
‘It’s okay, I’ll phone him. I know you must be busy. I’ll tell him it came from you if anyone asks.’
‘Well it did, so don’t worry about it. I’ve got your back, Lucy, someone needs to look after you. What’s your home email address? I’ll forward the picture of the cat on as soon as it arrives. Your boss never told me I couldn’t speak to you about it. So we’re not doing anything wrong; anyway when was the last time he actually ran a case? He seems a bit rusty.’
‘He’s been an office guy for as long as I can remember. I suppose he’s a bit out of his depth.’
‘Yes, that’s a polite way to put it. Oh, did Collins have a dog collar on at all when you arrested him? Because he had a black shirt, and in his trouser pocket was a long silver chain with a cross on it but no collar. I’d have thought he’d have one on him if he was wearing that kind of shirt.’
‘When we arrested him he was stark naked and tied to a bed. He did get dressed in that black shirt, but I don’t recall seeing him wearing his collar. Then again if you were getting marched out of a prostitute’s house in handcuffs I don’t suppose you’d want to be wearing that for the world to see. I’ll find out. I’m surprised the cross was still in his pocket, because the killer took trophies from both Sandy and Margaret.’
‘That’s why I’m asking about the dog collar. If you killed a priest, what would be the best trophy you could take from him?’
‘His collar?’
‘I think so, it’s more personal. Anyway, just a thought. When you find him it will be interesting to see if he has it in his collection. I know you’re probably bored already, but I think it’s a good idea that you’re having a few days off.’
‘I’ve got Idris Elba keeping me company, so I’m good for a couple of hours.’
‘Lucky girl, I’ve got three corpses and a Mr Maxwell. I don’t know who I prefer at the moment. Take care, Lucy, I’ll be in touch.’
Catherine ended the call, and Lucy didn’t know whether to jump up and down for joy or scream in frustration because she wasn’t at work now that things were beginning to heat up. She stared at the screen and whispered we’re getting closer; I hope you’re ready to go to prison for the rest of your life, you bastard.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Ellie came breezing into the house and stared at Lucy who was lying on the sofa, no make-up and her hair in a loose bun. She wasn’t used to seeing her mum look so off-duty; all the years for as long as she could remember she’d either been in uniform or the smart suits that she now wore for work. Even on her days off she made an effort.
‘Why aren’t you at work?’
‘Sick leave because of the state of my face, too scary for the public to look at.’
Ellie laughed. ‘Yeah, you have a point. I can’t stop staring at you.’
‘Thanks, kid, makes me feel a whole lot better. Why aren’t you at school?’
‘I don’t have to be in until eleven. I came to show you a photo of Bella’s cat, so you know which one I want. I don’t want you going out and buying any old moggy.’
Lucy arched an eyebrow at her. ‘Erm, I haven’t decided yet. The jury is still out on that one.’
‘Ah, come on. It’s not like it’s a dog, they look after themselves. All you have to do is feed them and give them a stroke.’
‘And get them vaccinated, flea treatments, neutered, litter trained.’
‘Please, Mum, it can be an early birthday present.’
Lucy sighed. ‘What sort of cat is it then?’
Ellie bounced onto the sofa next to her and began to scroll through the photos on her phone. She shoved the screen in front of Lucy’s face. She pushed it away.
‘Bloody hell I’m not short-sighted. Let me have a look.’
Taking it off Ellie she studied the photo and felt her heart begin to race: this breed of cat looked like it was the perfect match for the cat hairs taken from each victim. Trying to keep her voice calm and not give anything away to Ellie, she said, ‘That is pretty cute, it’s like a little fluff ball. Who’s going to clean its backside when it’s got shit stuck to it?’
The thought was racing around in her head: Natalia was connected to the church and both victims. Was this the break she’d been so desperately hoping for? For once she didn’t want it to be, because if it was, she didn’t know how she’d live with it.
‘Urghh, trust you to think of that. Cats clean themselves; you won’t have to follow it around with a packet of baby wipes every time it goes to the toilet.’
‘I hope so. Give me a few more hours, I’m at sixty per cent. When I get to one hundred I’ll let you know.’
Ellie rolled her eyes at her. ‘Well don’t take too long, will you, at least you’d have something to cuddle up to in bed when you’re here on your own. I have to go, I’ll see you later. Don’t overdose on the television, you’re not used to it.’
She stood up and grabbed her school bag.
Lucy shouted after her. ‘By Ells, thanks for visiting.’
The front door slammed shut, and Lucy forced herself up off her comfy bed of cushions. It was time to ring Col and Browning, both of them should be in work now.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Lucy checked her emails to see if Catherine’s had come through. Relieved to see it had arrived, she opened the attachment and inhaled. Her hunch had been right. The cat was a dead ringer for the one Ellie had just shown to her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. It was a coincidence, it had to be. There could be hundreds of those cats in Brooklyn Bay. How many do you think are owned by people connected to the church? Natalia knew all three victims – it could be her. She shook her head, surely not. She was normally a pretty good judge of character. She didn’t buy it; the woman was far too nice. She was pacing up and down waiting for Col to answer his phone; he finally did. Breathless.
‘Sorry, boss, was at the printer. Had to run back to my desk, is everything okay?’
‘Well it would be bloody great if I was allowed in work.’
‘Ah, yes. I forgot about that.’
‘Catherine sent me a photo identifying the type of cat the hairs would have come from t
hat were located at each crime scene. It’s an expensive breed, a blue Persian; I’ve sent it to you. When you get it can you ring around the local vets and see if they’ll give you a list of local owners? If they won’t, go there in person and tell them you’ll arrest them for obstruction. It’s vital we know so we can start crossing them off the list. Cross reference it to the list of volunteers and see if any of them have connections to the church.’
‘I’ll do it as soon as it hits my inbox. Anything else?’
‘I want you to let me know if you get any matches before you tell anyone else. Please.’
‘You didn’t have to ask. You’re still my boss whether you’re in the station or not. I answer to you, not that knob jockey they’ve sent through to cover. He’s sat in your office trying to get up to date on everything we have. At the rate he’s going it will be Christmas.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Some DI called Weston from the city. They’ve borrowed him until the killer has been caught and you can come back. He keeps rubbing his head like he’s wishing he’d never walked in.’
Lucy laughed. ‘Yeah, I’ve never heard of him. Good luck to him. I want you to make sure anything that comes in you bring to me first. You can tell him after I’ve evaluated the situation.’
‘No problem. I’ll be in touch.’
He hung up. Lucy wasn’t mad about the replacement. It was pretty obvious they couldn’t leave such a huge investigation without a DI, but she just hadn’t expected it to be so soon. She felt a bit sorry for him – to be brought into an investigation at this late stage would be a nightmare. It would take him days to get up to speed with it. Well hopefully she would have it cracked before he got the chance and save him the bother. She jumped up, thinking she had no idea how long it was going to take for Col to get the details from the vets. If they were arsy and refused it could take days, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Bella had a cat which looked as if it was a similar breed. Of course it might not be, they might be two completely different types, just look similar. There was only one way to find out and that was to pay Natalia a visit. Grabbing her car keys and phone she decided there was no time like the present.