CHAPTER 68
Sean had stared into Raja’s eyes as she’d told him what had really happened that day after she’d left him in the basement gym.
He would have sworn that, during that whole time, all he could see in her eyes and hear in her voice was delight and a self-confidence he’d never seen in her before. It was as if the woman in front of him were a stranger.
When she finished talking he couldn’t speak for several seconds. Then his eyes met hers once again, and he saw she was smiling.
‘You sick bitch,’ he said. Raja raised her head, as if this were an accolade to be proud of. ‘You seriously are a fucked-up bitch.’
‘You had it coming.’
Sean’s eyes widened, eyebrows raised. ‘I made a mistake by hitting you once in the heat of the moment. I’d been drinking.’
‘That an excuse I hear?’
‘It’s not meant as an excuse. I cheated on you and you try to destroy me, my reputation… My life.’
Raja’s face remained stony. ‘Cry me a river…’
‘I passed out for hours when you left me down there. I could’ve choked on my own sick.’
‘Better for you if you had.’
He couldn’t bear to look at her.
‘The police must have come looking for me?’
‘They did, but who was going to suspect me, the poor beaten and broken wife? After all I’ve gone through with Raymond Knox?’
Knox.
How could he have been so blind?
‘That was you?’ he said. ‘You killed him?’
Raja smiled.
‘And those two other women?’
A small nod.
He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to understand,’ she said. ‘You stopped understanding me a long time ago.’
Sean couldn’t argue with that. There was truth in it and he felt ashamed to admit it, even if it was only silently to himself. He made himself look at her, see her for who she really was, what she had become.
‘What are you going to do with me?’ he said at length.
She ran her hand through Sixx’s fur again. ‘Well, I can’t let you live, can I?’
The dog let out a series of barks and, too late, Sean understood Raja’s intention. Before he could turn to run, Sixx leapt forward, catching Sean’s legs before he reached the hallway, sending him sprawling to the floor.
Sixx’s teeth ripped through Sean’s trousers until he found flesh.
‘That’s enough.’
Through the pain, Sean looked towards the doorway to the kitchen as he heard Raja snap her fingers and call off the dog. She was now staring down at him as Sixx bounded back towards her, blood staining his fur.
Sean was trying to control his breathing, which was coming in short, sharp bursts. He looked at his legs, at the blood and torn fabric. ‘Raja,’ he said, voice barely above a whisper, trembling. ‘Please, baby. You have to call for help.’
Raja ignored the screams that came from his mouth when she heaved his torso up against the island unit in the middle of the room, the physical strain evident on her face.
He looked up at her, eyes silently begging.
Sixx came up beside him, teeth bared, and snarling. He sat beside Sean, bright eyes on his.
Raja grabbed a knife from the block and Sean bucked against the unit, trying to throw her off balance just at the moment Sixx struck again, snapping his jaws shut around Sean’s thigh.
He let out another scream, and Raja pulled Sixx back by his collar. She crouched down to the level of Sean’s eyes, knife in one hand, and pressed her other over his mouth.
‘Shut up.’
Sean’s face was turning red, and his nostrils flared. Her hand moved from his mouth to grip his chin, holding his face close to hers so he couldn’t avoid looking at her.
With the other hand she lowered the knife to the floor and pulled something from her pocket, unfolding it with one hand before holding it up to his face.
He looked at the image and felt sick.
Before him was a classic-looking, black-and-white, glossy 10 x 8 photograph. Creases through the image where she had hidden it inside her pocket ran through the middle of a couple, captured in all their beauty, at what was a happy moment in time.
Their wedding day.
She didn’t say a word as she lowered the photograph and let it rest in his lap.
‘So everyone will know what you had… and what you lost,’ she said as she picked up the knife, and raised it to his face until she saw it reflected in his glassy eyes.
Sean whimpered and looked back at his wife, but he saw little emotion in her eyes. What she did next was almost mechanical, something she was programmed to do.
She pushed his torso forward and manoeuvred herself so she slipped in between him and the cabinet.
Sean’s body slumped back with exhaustion against her chest.
Sixx moved around to face them both, eyes wide, tongue hanging out of a panting mouth.
Raja put her palm flat against Sean’s forehead, pulling it back with force. He knew what was about to happen and swallowed hard, shutting his eyes tight.
Raja held the knife against his throat in her right hand and shut her eyes.
She pressed down and drew the blade across his throat, from ear to ear, with force.
Sean flinched, and his eyes shot open as arterial spray erupted from his neck. Raja kept her eyes closed. She felt the wetness hit her face, her hands, her body. She gripped Sean tight as his body twitched against hers. She listened carefully to the soft sounds his body made as it began to shut down.
After several seconds he stopped moving.
His forehead slumped forward, heavy against her hand. She heard her dog pad towards her, his claws sounding on the slippery floor.
She felt him lick her face.
At last she opened her eyes and gently pushed Sixx away.
She eased herself out from underneath Sean’s body. He rolled to the side. She got to her feet. She didn’t bother to avoid stepping in his blood.
She looked down at him, at the bloodstained photograph in his lap, then at his lifeless eyes staring towards the hallway.
She threw down the knife, wiped her hands off on the kitchen towel and then headed to the hall.
She had one more thing to take care of. She pulled out Sean’s mobile from her pocket. Looked at the text messages received from Janet.
She wanted to meet, said something needed to be discussed, something that couldn’t wait.
Raja had always intended Janet to be the next victim. Sending her text messages from Sean’s phone was an added bonus and it could buy her some time, a chance of getting away afterwards, to get to friends she still had, friends from her homeland.
Raja headed for the stairs and looked at Sixx. She would leave him and the other two, Axel and Hendrix, with water and food. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the police would come for her.
They’d find Sean dead but the dogs happy and content.
She’d clean her face up, say her goodbyes to them, then take one last journey before she left for good.
She’d already left a note for Diana in her bedroom.
Faithful Diana. She knew what Raja had done to Knox, but she wouldn’t have understood about the others.
Then there was Skye… Diana would know what she’d done. She’d try to stop her leaving and Raja didn’t want to be forced to hurt her, too.
She whistled for Sixx then.
He bounded out of the kitchen after her, leaving a bloody trail of paw prints across the marble.
CHAPTER 69
Janet choked back tears. ‘You did that to Sean… You hurt yourself like that?’
‘Smoke and mirrors,’ Claire said. ‘That’s what it was, wasn’t it, Raja?’
‘She can’t have,’ Janet said. ‘I got a text from Sean when I contacted him. He
can’t be dead.’
Raja laughed then. ‘You never were that bright, were you?’
‘Raja, you sent those messages, didn’t you?’ Claire said. ‘From Sean’s mobile? Same as the one supposedly from him to you, to help keep our attention from you. When Janet sent that text to Sean, that’s how you knew Janet was on to you – or Sean, as she’d originally thought. You switched that phone on and off at irregular intervals so we couldn’t trace it.’
Raja pointed the blade at them.
‘That’s far enough!’ she spat when she saw Claire edge forward. ‘You tell me, bitch,’ Raja said, her eyes back on Claire. ‘How’d you know it was me?’
‘The CCTV footage at the hospital,’ Claire said. ‘Something about it was never quite right, nor was the evidence at the crime scenes. The walking-shoe prints found with each dead body. Perfect prints. We naturally assumed we were looking for a man.
‘When I saw the CCTV footage of what appeared to be a man going into Skye Bradshaw’s room, I didn’t quite see it at first, but DI Fletcher did once he looked closer. He saw the hint of a female waist, the curve of breasts. All hidden under a layer of men’s clothes and overalls. Your hair tucked up under the baseball cap… The men’s shoes that slipped up and down on feet that were far too small to be a man’s.’
‘Could have been any woman under all that.’
‘Yes, but you forgot one loose end… the dog we found at the quarry. It was a stray brought into the dog kennels in Harlington, five miles from Sundon. The same kennels where you work.’
Raja jutted her chin out, defiant. Inside she regretted leaving the dog there when Skye was in the ground. She’d had to, though; she’d had to get back home, make preparations for getting to the hospital to finish Skye off in the event she pulled through her surgery.
‘The manager at the kennels took him in,’ Claire continued. ‘Put out posters in case anyone came to claim him. The dog went missing a week before Knox was released.’
A cold realisation began to filter through Janet then. ‘You. You killed those women?’ she said.
‘Skye Bradshaw,’ Raja said. ‘Sean was…’ She trailed off. ‘Sean was doing what men like him do. With her. In my house, in my bed.’
‘Cutting her face up wasn’t enough for you, was it?’ Claire said. ‘Not like the other two. They were done away with without much thought. Skye, though… Skye had to suffer.’
‘Crawled her way out of that pit, didn’t she?’ Raja said, humour in her voice. ‘I gave her a chance to get away. That’s more than any of us ever got when Knox chose us.’
‘And Sean?’
‘He had it coming.’
‘You made it took like he beat you,’ Janet said. ‘Like he controlled you. All lies. You told us what he really was.’ She paused, thinking back. ‘You cast suspicion on him, made him look like a suspect.’
Raja shrugged. ‘He had his uses,’ she said. ‘He never put a hand on me, until that day. That was over his guilt about Skye, I know it. He tried to make it all about me, said I’d provoked his anger, his outburst.’ She shook her head. ‘It was always about Skye.’
‘You had Diana to help cover for you,’ Claire said. ‘Something else you staged, for her benefit. She had no idea what was really going on, did she?’
‘Diana was always loyal,’ Raja said. ‘She believed what I told her, because she had no reason not to.’
Claire nodded. ‘That day Diana heard that terrible argument with Sean, before the other argument when he supposedly hit you, broke your nose… What did she really hear?’
Raja smiled.
‘That’s just it, isn’t it?’ Claire continued, thinking back to what Diana had said. ‘She never actually saw Sean, nor heard him either. She only ever said she heard your voice, right before you came out of the house. Just you.’
‘An elaborate illusion, which she quite easily bought into.’
Janet was struggling to process any of it. She shook her head when she realised how they’d all been deceived. ‘Sean didn’t kill Knox, did he?’
Raja just stared at her.
‘It was you, wasn’t it? You killed him…’
31st March
Wolf Takes Prey
I feel as if my life has been leading up to this moment. All the years of pain are about to be sated, put to bed, and I can begin my life over again.
Or at least that’s what I hope for.
I entered the wood from the lesser-known route, the area that backs on to open fields, where nothing of worth ever really thrives, where only insects seem to dwell in long grass. I can hear them now, in the distance, as I sit here.
They’re crickets, I think.
I parked the van in a little street half a mile the other side of the fields. When I walked through the grass, I cast my arms wide, palms brushing over the overgrown blades.
And here I am now in the wood. Waiting.
I check my cheap, pay-as-you-go mobile, access the last text message I received. It was from Devon, telling me Knox was on his way. That was a short while ago, and what brought me here.
Devon, the others, they think some acquaintance of mine, back from the Ukraine, will be sent to kill Knox.
It’s better if that’s what they think.
I hear twigs snap underfoot in the distance.
I look up.
I can’t see him yet, but he’s coming.
I know he’ll look just how I remember him. Photographs Janet sent me show a man who’s changed very little in the last fifteen years and I hate him even more, for I feel like I have aged a lifetime in these passing years.
I’ve spent the last few weeks planning what I’d do when I saw him again. I’ve spent these last few days watching him, hidden in shadow. One thing I learned about Knox is that he is a creature of routine, of habit.
I’d noticed that he liked to take a walk in these woods.
It was easy then for Devon to get him here, with the promise that Janet would be here waiting for him.
Knox thinks he’s here for sex…
My heart beats harder in my chest. My hands tremble.
I can’t afford to make mistakes now. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and I don’t want to ruin it by being sloppy, but I know this is the day I take my life back.
I pull the lead closer to me. The dog pants, then licks my face and burrows his head under my arm. I pat his back.
The Bullmastiff was a stray, brought in by my boss some weeks ago. They didn’t really pay much attention when he went missing. They found an empty cage, assumed he’d got out because someone didn’t lock the door properly.
I took the blame willingly, and was let off because, considering what was going on in my life – Knox’s impending release – I clearly wasn’t thinking straight, my mind on other things.
I think Arno – that’s what I called him – quite liked the quarry bunker. It was like an adventure for him. He was happy enough. I’ve trained him well in a short time. He’ll do whatever I command.
His tail is wagging, hitting my leg, as if he’s anticipating this as much as I am.
Arno stirs beside me, his nose twitching. He’s caught a scent. Someone is coming this way.
Let’s get this over with.
I stand up and lean against the tree for support and peek around it when I hear the sound of footsteps and the crack of twigs.
But it isn’t him.
I crouch low, pull Arno back, and he growls at the stranger drawing closer. I hush him and he licks my hand.
Who is this man coming out from the thicket of trees? He’s wearing a satchel across his body and he’s bleeding from a cut on his head. He’s coming this way, stumbling through the undergrowth.
He is familiar to me somehow. I can’t place his face.
He’s too upset to notice me, though, as he passes within a few feet of us.
I exhale.
I wait until the man is out of sight, and the rustling s
ound of his feet has faded away to nothing.
I leave the safety of the tree and walk a few feet to the clearing where I know Knox is meant to be.
I’ve been told he stopped here before, smoking his vile cigarettes, perched on the log, kicking his feet around the burned-out metal rubbish bin, twisted, burned plastic still attached in places.
Arno has become more quiet and purposeful with each step, as if he knows this is important to me. When we hear a noise he stays beside me, ears twitching. Yes, I heard that, too, boy.
There’s Knox, entering the clearing.
He’s kicking at his feet, his ankle tangled up in dead grass and rotting nettles from walking through the thick of bushes. He’s deviated from the makeshift path.
I think of the bleeding man I saw moments before.
Knox is sucking at the knuckles of his right hand.
Whatever I missed before, I can’t let it distract me.
It’s now or never.
I step out and reveal myself.
He doesn’t see me at first. He walks over to the log beside the bin and sits, inspecting his hand. The skin is torn; I can see that even from all the way over here.
Arno smells his blood.
He growls as if he knows this is who I’ve been waiting for for the last fifteen years.
Knox turns and sees me.
Shock registers on his face at first, and now it gives way to a smirk.
Arno pads forward when Knox rises to get a better look at me, but Knox doesn’t seem bothered, despite Arno’s size.
That might change.
Arno is fierce when provoked.
Knox gestures at me with his chin jutting out. ‘Someone else come for a good look?’
I hear that voice and remember it well. It still has the sharp edge to it and I realise it still cuts me to the core.
He takes a step forward then. ‘Well, take a good-fucking-look.’
He spits on the ground.
Then he stares at me for what seems like an age, and I admit, I find it hard not to buckle under those eyes. Arno must sense my doubt because he is now circling Knox, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
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