Pretty Little Things

by T. M. E. Walsh

  Iain responds but I can’t hear what he says because he’s whispering.

  ‘You need your space too,’ I hear her say. ‘. . . how she’s dealing with this . . . bad for Elle.’

  Bitch!

  How dare she bring Elle into this. Is she conveniently forgetting what I’ve been through today?

  A part of me wants to burst in there, call my so-called best friend out for talking about me this way behind my back.

  The other part of me craves sleep. I really don’t want to be saying things I might come to regret, so, rather than burst in, I will break this up another way.

  I thump my feet on the stairs, alerting them to my imminent presence.

  I hear frantic whispers and then the television is switched on. The sounds of a sitcom fill the air.

  I push open the living room door and act like I haven’t heard a single thing.

  Iain watches me as I come into the room.

  ‘How are you now?’ he says.

  I don’t answer him. Instead I stare at Savannah. She’s got her legs up underneath her, tucked up on the sofa. There is one space between her and Iain. The cushion in that space is crumpled and I have no doubt that, seconds before I came in, Savannah was occupying that space.

  I slump down there now, and she has to move further up her end.

  I sense that they are exchanging a look between themselves.

  Iain yawns. ‘It’s really late.’

  ‘I should go,’ Savannah says.

  ‘Yes, you should,’ I snap.

  I feel the air between us change. She’s so unsure what to say to me now that I actually find myself enjoying her discomfort.

  She places a hand over one of mine.

  I look down at it.

  ‘I’ll call you. We need to talk.’

  I bristle at her words. ‘Goodbye,’ I say.

  I see from the corner of my eye that she looks to Iain.

  ‘Goodnight,’ he says to her. ‘She meant goodnight.’

  ‘Night, Char,’ she says as she gets up from the sofa. I stare at her and she looks sad. I desperately want to feel something. Anything. But right now I’m hollow and unmoved by her.

  ‘I’ll call you,’ she says.

  I look to the floor.

  I feel the bond we had has died inside me today and, more than anything now, I feel truly alone.

  CHAPTER 31

  Jade Reid tapped on her phone and brought up the relevant Facebook page. Individual memorial pages had been set up by friends for each of the murdered girls.

  Jade stared at the photograph of Melissa Scott and leaned closer to show Elle.

  ‘Here’s the page I was telling you about,’ she said, handing Elle the phone.

  Jade had been pretty good friends with Melissa. They went to the same drama group at the weekends and their mothers both worked in the local council office together.

  Jade thumbed the woven friendship bracelet at her wrist that Melissa had made for her a few years ago. She’d taken to wearing it every day since Melissa had gone missing.

  ‘People have written some really lovely things,’ Elle said, handing the phone back. ‘Send me the link and I’ll join the group too.’

  Jade gave her a sad smile and perched on the chair at the kitchen table, gripping her mug of hot chocolate and focusing on the steam wafting from it. Anything to take her mind off what was happening and keep from crying in front of Jason, who had wandered into the kitchen.

  ‘Come on, Iain!’ he shouted, raising his head to the ceiling to make himself heard. He looked at both girls. ‘You two need a lift today?’

  Jade shook her head. ‘Kenzie’s mum is picking us up from here soon.’

  Elle locked eyes with Jade and then smiled as Jason looked out of the kitchen window, his back to them now. Elle gestured to his behind and mouthed the word ‘hot’ to Jade.

  Jade stifled a laugh as Elle reached across the table for the butter dish.

  Her brow furrowed as she caught sight of Elle’s wrist, her jumper sleeve having ridden up when she reached across the table.

  The sun’s rays coming in from the window caught the edges of the cutlery on the table, and the small, delicate skull charm hanging off Elle’s bracelet.

  Jade watched as Elle buttered her toast, the charm swinging back and forth.

  ‘You OK?’ Elle said.

  ‘Yeah . . .’ Jade’s eyes lingered on the bracelet. ‘Is that new?’ she said, leaning across and tapping the charm.

  Jason turned round to look at them. He smiled as Elle pulled her sleeve up a little more.

  ‘Yeah, it’s a belated birthday present. Looks expensive, doesn’t it?’ she said, looking to Jason to see if he’d noticed.

  ‘What is it with the cost of shit nowadays?’ he said and rolled his eyes.

  ‘Nothing,’ Elle said and pulled her jumper sleeve back down, ‘but it’s nice to know you’re worth spending money on.’

  ‘Who . . .?’ Jade said, trailing off. Her eyes were still on Elle’s wrist, where the bracelet was now covered. ‘Who got you that?’

  ‘Jason?’

  They all looked up as Charlotte came into the kitchen. It’d been two days since she’d found Bryony Keats and everyone had been taking care how they behaved around her. Any little reminder of what she’d seen by the canal might upset her.

  Charlotte smiled at Jason as she carried the washing basket and set it down by his feet near the washing machine. ‘I didn’t know you were here.’ She started to load the machine.

  ‘Had to swing by to grab the schedule off Iain for this afternoon’s jobs,’ he said. ‘But he’s taking for ever,’ he added and stared at his watch.

  Charlotte groaned. ‘He was up late again.’

  ‘Too much info,’ Jade said and laughed.

  ‘Eww!’ Elle said, slapping her friend’s hand.

  Jason laughed but Charlotte’s face remained stony.

  Iain came into the kitchen then, right on cue, yawning.

  ‘And here’s the man himself,’ Jason said. Elle looked embarrassed. Jade laughed.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Iain said.

  ‘Has Charlotte been keeping you up, mate?’ Jason said.

  Iain shrugged, noncommittal.

  ‘Oh, he’s been up all night but not with me!’ Charlotte said. An awkward silence filled the room. ‘Savannah’s been keeping you company these last two nights, hasn’t she?’

  Iain rolled his eyes, went to his bag and pulled out a handful of A4 printouts. He handed them to Jason. ‘This is the schedule for the next few days.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jason, avoiding Charlotte’s face.

  ‘They both think I’m too fragile to be here on my own at night.’

  All eyes were on Charlotte then.

  ‘That’s not it,’ Iain said at length.

  Jason looked at Charlotte’s tired eyes and worn features. ‘You have had a shock,’ he said. He smiled when her eyes met his. ‘You should have a break from things.’

  ‘Well, she’s not in work again today, are you, Char?’ Iain’s voice was stilted. ‘Harry will be getting his knickers in a twist that she’s using finding Bryony as an excuse not to do pretty much anything right now.’

  An awkward silence filled the room.

  ‘Sod Harry,’ Jason said, trying to lift the mood. He gestured towards Charlotte. ‘You take all the time you need.’

  She smiled as she turned the washing machine on.

  ‘She’ll do that, won’t you, dear?’

  Conscious of Elle and Jade being present, Charlotte left the room, kissing Elle on the head as she went, forcing a smile. ‘I’m off out.’ Her eyes met Jade’s, who looked at her with a degree of sympathy.

  Charlotte’s hand rested on Elle’s shoulder and said, voice choked, ‘See you later, love.’

  CHAPTER 32

  ‘Bryony Keats died the same way as the others,’ Madeleine said as she addressed her team around the table in the incident room.

  ‘She had suffe
red a deep, blunt-force-trauma wound to the back of her head beforehand, probably used to render her unconscious. Something like a bat, or a heavy-duty tool or similar has been suggested by the pathologist.’

  Charis stared at one of the crime-scene photographs of Bryony and then her eyes flicked to the photograph that her mother had provided when her daughter went missing.

  ‘Her lip ring is gone,’ she said, tapping her nail on the crime-scene photograph of Bryony. ‘It was silver, with a distinctive little green glass jewel set in the metal.’

  ‘Do we think that’s been taken by the killer?’ Alex said.

  Madeleine nodded. ‘Very likely.’

  ‘Maybe an animal?’ Hicks said.

  ‘No,’ Madeleine said. ‘There would be claw marks, signs of chewing, if it’d been an animal.’

  She pointed at the old photograph of Bryony. ‘She had it the day she disappeared. She only had one ring and it wasn’t with her things at home, and her mother said she always wore it. She knows that for certain because she hated it. Gave Bryony shit for getting her lip pierced in the first place.’

  Madeleine circled photographs of close-up shots of Bryony’s legs, and the backs of her arms. ‘Bryony was kept somewhere else before she was moved and dumped along Roxham Canal,’ she said. ‘Here you can see the marks inflicted postmortem along the backs of her legs and arms, where she’d been dragged. As well as debris found in the cuts consistent with things found by the canal, there are traces of the wildflower red campion also found on all of the other victims’ bodies.’

  Charis rubbed her forehead. ‘We’ve yet to find the source. This plant is found in forest and woodland and there’s plenty of that in the county. It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

  ‘We’re up against it,’ Madeleine said, ‘but we will find where the killer is taking his victims.’

  ‘Hopefully before he takes another,’ Alex said.

  The hum of voices in agreement rose among the team.

  ‘All right, settle down,’ Madeleine said. ‘Have a photograph issued to the media of a lip ring similar to the one Bryony always wore. It’s only a little thing but the devil’s in the details. I think our killer is getting cocky, impatient. They might have left this ring in a coat pocket, or somewhere around where they live.’

  ‘Do we think they have a family of their own?’ Alex said.

  Madeleine nodded. ‘It’s possible, but I don’t want to get sidetracked by profiling this killer. We need to keep an open mind.’

  ‘Should we discount the age range we originally thought?’

  ‘It’s been discussed before but now I definitely think we might be looking at someone younger,’ Madeleine said. ‘The style of killing, the length of time it takes before he kills them, it’s quick. It seems like the killer has a need to fulfil their desire to kill fairly quickly. That strikes me as someone who is younger, and not in complete control of their urges . . . He’s definitely a member of the community, though. It’s his cover. It’s what’s kept him under the radar this long.’

  CHAPTER 33

  ANON

  It’s coming up to half past three when I see her. She’s walking along the footpath alongside the Linkway and I can just make her out, her long, dyed-black hair swinging in a high ponytail.

  I quicken my pace a little to keep her in my sights as she rounds a bend. The road is lined with dense trees and bushes, and it obscures the path ahead.

  She comes back into view now. She’s got her earphones in her ears, oblivious to what’s around her.

  I allow myself a smile.

  I’ve parked a little further back on another country lane that interlinks with this one. I’ll offer her a lift and see what she says, although when she sees me, she’s not likely to refuse a ride, let’s be honest.

  The folly of youth and all that . . .

  She’s off to a mate’s house, I know that much, that’s why she’s alone and walking there rather than getting a lift.

  It’d taken me a while to realise Jade Reid knew Melissa Scott. I’m a bit pissed at myself because this is something I should’ve known. A minor detail that could’ve come back to bite me on the arse, but I’ll have it sorted soon.

  That’s why I’m here, after all.

  Ah, Jade’s just looked over her shoulder. And she’s stopped. She’s squinting to see who it is.

  I wave.

  Yes, it’s me.

  She stops and waits for me to catch up.

  CHAPTER 34

  ANON

  It’s night by the time I slide the key into the garage lock.

  Today was hard, I can’t deny that.

  I pocket the key and look at my hands. My fingers are clean at least, even if the rest of my soul isn’t.

  I’m pretty unrepentant, though. Shit happens and all that.

  Still, I know I’m being watched and that means there’s yet another loose end to tie up. I’m getting tired of this, I’ll admit.

  Killing for sport is fucking exhausting.

  She thinks I haven’t seen her, lurking in the shadows, but it’s a cold night. Not quite cold enough for frost but I can still see my breath, a whitish-grey in the air when I exhale.

  If I can see my own breath, that also means, with a stroke of luck, I can see hers.

  She’s not realised that yet, but she will.

  I head around from the garages and into the street.

  She’s following.

  I can hear the thud of her trainers on the ground, even though she’s trying hard to be stealthy.

  Exhausting, as I said, but exciting too.

  I rub my thumb gently, minimum pressure, on the flat of the blade in my inner coat pocket and I wait for her to come into the darkness around the corner beside the electrical station.

  *

  ‘I see you, Ruby Tate.’

  That’s what I said, my actual words.

  She almost had a heart attack when she realised she’d been caught. I was too quick for her, though.

  ‘Into the back of the van, mind your head,’ I’d said. It’s nice to be kind sometimes, don’t you think?

  All I had to do was show her the knife – show her that I was serious – and she knew it was pointless to run, to scream.

  That will come in good time, I tell myself.

  Another detour, but I have my excuses all ready and relatively watertight. I take her to the cabin, because I plan to take my time with her.

  That’s where I stand now. In the cabin, boots shuffling over the plastic as she writhes on the floor like a bug caught out, scrambling on its back, trying in vain to right itself and scuttle off.

  But you won’t be scurrying away any time soon, will you, Ruby?

  She looks at me now with defiance in her eyes, her teeth gnawing on the duct tape around her mouth like a rat, teeth yellow and sharp.

  I think it’s good she’s got some fight left in her now she realises the full gravity of the situation she now finds herself in.

  I like that, I really do. Reminds me of Bryony. Oh, dear, sweet Bryony . . . just food for the maggots now.

  I don’t think Ruby here is that scared of me right now. Maybe a little but not enough. She doesn’t believe I’m serious.

  She’s cornered, though, and a cornered animal is just too dangerous to be kept alive for long.

  I rip the duct tape away and she screams.

  And screams.

  The sound is like heaven. It might seem cruel killing Ruby, but let’s be honest, she’s brought it on herself.

  After all, someone’s got to protect poor Charlotte.

  Who else is there but me?

  CHAPTER 35

  Madeleine pulled her messy, unbrushed hair back into a ponytail as she entered the incident room and saw that Charis had already pinned a photograph to the wall that had long since become a symbol for the grim and macabre.

  It had been 23.46 on the dot when Madeleine had got the call to say that another teen had been reported missing. She’d rolle
d back out of bed, much to Nick’s disapproval, and come straight in.

  She made herself a black coffee and wiped her eyes, eyes that were gritty and sore.

  ‘What do we know so far?’ she said, sitting down hard in her chair in front of her own desk. ‘How do we know this is related to our killer?’

  ‘Similar MO, Guv,’ Alex said. ‘Jade Reid, sixteen years old. Last seen walking out of Harold Green school at around three-twenty, where she left her friends to walk in the direction of the Linkway. Her mother said she never arrived at her friend’s house, her mobile is switched off and there’s nothing to suggest that she’s run off by herself. In fact, it’s completely out of character.’

  Madeleine paused. ‘Why do I recognise that name?’

  ‘It’s a local school in Kennington,’ Charis said. ‘We had some DCs go there to talk to the head and the teachers, staff and students.’

  ‘No, that’s not why it rings a bell with me.’ Madeleine closed her eyes, tried to think. How did she know that name? From the fog in her head, caused partly by tiredness, and partly by anxiety at the knowledge that yet another young life was in danger of being brutally cut short, it came to her.

  She snapped her fingers. ‘Elle Monroe.’

  Alex looked at her. ‘You mean Charlotte Monroe’s daughter?’

  ‘Yes, she’s friends with Jade Reid. I remember her mother telling me that when we took her statement when she found Bryony. She gave us a list of people she knew that attended the charity fete. Jade was on that list. It’s also in the paperwork, on HOLMES, when we did the house-to-house interviews and looked at everyone who owned a van in the surrounding villages.’

  ‘You think Elle might know where Jade is?’ Charis said.

  ‘She might be one of the last people to have seen Jade.’

  ‘We’ve had reports come in from local uniform doing a house-to-house that a white van was seen in the area just off from the Linkway around three, shortly before school finish time,’ Hicks said.

  ‘Can you try and get me some CCTV or traffic-camera footage from the surrounding shops and roads, and petrol stations, for around that time?’

  ‘I’m on it, Guv,’ she said.