Cold Blood: A gripping serial killer thriller that will take your breath away (Detective Erika Foster Book 5)

by Robert Bryndza

‘I always wanted to come here. Did you ever read The 101 Dalmatians?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. I saw the film.’

  ‘The book is leagues better. I love how the dogs come up to Primrose Hill for the Twilight Barking, and they talk to each other, they talk to other dogs miles away.’

  ‘That’s not true though?’

  ‘I like to think it is. And we don’t have a fucking clue what dogs are actually saying when they bark. I like the idea that when dogs bark they are talking to each other. Stupid, though isn’t it?’ he said, running his hands through his hair.

  ‘No. It’s not. It’s magical,’ I said. And it felt magical there with him. I felt like I did when I first got together with him that first night when I stopped at the traffic lights near Santino’s chip shop and he climbed in my car. He smiled and topped up my glass.

  ‘One day we’ll have a car like this, Neen. I promise you.’ I smiled and nodded, not wanting to risk breaking his mood with a question, but he answered it for me. ‘You remember that couple who came round the other night, Charlene and Thomas?’

  ‘I won’t forget her farting. That’s etched on my brain.’

  Max smiled for a moment, then he was serious. ‘She still owes me for the gear she bought.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Enough. She’s a trust fund kid, her dad owns a car dealership. I’ve taken this car as insurance: she gets it back when I get my money. And when I get my money, it will be with a hefty chunk of interest.’

  ‘You didn’t?’

  ‘What? Beat them up? No. It was her idea, stupid cow. Fucking rich kids are the worst. Daddy has cut off her allowance, but he always relents, apparently. In the long run, I’ll make even more money off the stupid bitch.’

  I nodded and bit into an olive.

  ‘These are delicious,’ I said.

  ‘They better be, they cost enough.’ He looked at me and ran his tongue around his teeth.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to do this until later, but fuck it.’ He opened the door, got out of the car and went around to the back, returning with a giant shopping bag which he placed in my lap. It was a luxurious grey, and had a bow on top and the Mulberry logo embossed in gold. He saw my shock.

  ‘Go on, open it,’ he said.

  He took my glass and I undid the bow; inside was another box, and when I lifted the lid and pulled away the tissue, there, nestling inside, was a Mulberry handbag in red. I took it out, pawing the material, the folds of soft fabric. I put it to my nose and inhaled the fresh leather; the lining inside was cream.

  ‘Oh, Max. This is real?’ I asked.

  ‘Course,’ he said, smiling. I hugged it to my chest and felt such joy. ‘And you should look inside, in the pocket.’ I dived in and searched the lining, finding the pocket and pulling out a silver key. ‘It’s for the flat. I’m sorry. I’ve kind of been a bit crazy lately about sharing everything with you. I don’t trust people easily and I trust you.’

  I felt a huge wave of love and relief. I launched myself on him, covering his face with kisses. He started the engine and we drove off and found a quiet road with a dead end. He told me to take off all my clothes and get on the back seat. The leather felt incredible on my skin, and as he pressed his warm body onto mine I truly believed that everything would be okay.

  I tried to hold on to this feeling for as long as I could.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  FRIDAY, 15th SEPTEMBER

  The Jaguar has been here for a few days. This is a rough block, but I can tell that everyone is scared of Max. Each morning we’ve got up and there it is, still shining in the car park, untouched and in pristine condition. As the days have passed, I’ve felt Max’s mood darken. I’ve wanted to ask how much money Charlene and Thomas owe him, but I haven’t dared.

  Then they showed up at the door very early this morning, when we were eating breakfast. Charlene looked out of it, and was well dressed as usual, but her eyes were dilated and there was an unwashed smell about her. Thomas was sweating, and his Man United T-shirt had damp patches under the arms.

  They sat down at the kitchen table and I got up and busied myself making tea. Max listened with his arms crossed, as Charlene cried, and Thomas explained that Charlene’s parents have cut her off.

  ‘They always pay her monthly allowance, even in the past when they’ve said they’d cut her off, they haven’t meant it…’

  ‘So. I get to keep the Jaguar, that was the deal,’ said Max.

  ‘Nooo!’ cried Charlene. ‘My Dad would get the police involved if you did that.’

  ‘So that car you left, as insurance against what you owe me, is worthless?’ said Max.

  ‘It’s from my dad’s dealership!’ shrilled Charlene, her eyes wide and chin gurning. ‘He’s minted, a millionaire! Max, I can get the money from him!’

  ‘But they’ve cut you off…’ She was lost for words and turned to Thomas, but he looked at the floor. ‘So, what are the chances of them handing over £6,000?’

  ‘Six thousand! The gear was only, only £2,000!’ said Thomas.

  Max tilted his head, and I could see them both shrink back. He got up, and I moved out of the way as he opened the cutlery drawer and took out a large carving knife. Grabbing an apple from the bowl, he came back to the table. Charlene and Thomas couldn’t take their eyes off the blade.

  ‘I need my money,’ he said softly, the knife glinting as he sliced and twisted, the red peel growing in a long ribbon from the flesh of the apple. ‘Now, you’re not going to sit there crying. You’re going to come up with a solution. Fast.’

  ‘Max, that’s why we came here,’ said Thomas, forcing a smile to his lips. He had beads of sweat on his forehead, and his large hands were shaking. He put them under the table. Charlene rummaged around in her bag,

  ‘Max. I have a key to my parents’ house,’ she said, holding it up. ‘They’ll be away today at my brother’s. Looking after his kids. They always keep money in the house… I know the combination for the safe, and there’s jewellery.’ Max put a piece of the apple in his mouth and chewed slowly. Her eyes were wide and she gave him a manic smile. ‘What if I gave Nina my Mulberry bag?’ she added, holding it up. It was now scuffed and a little grubby. I went to say something but Max put up his hand.

  ‘Nina is not having your scaggy old bag as part payment. She’s got her own.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ve got my own bag. In red,’ I said. Charlene lowered her head, and looked like a beaten-up dog. She started to cry again.

  ‘I’m immune to druggie’s tears,’ said Max. ‘But we will come and collect the six grand you owe.’

  ‘You will?’ said Thomas, taking Charlene’s hand in his.

  ‘Yes. Right now, but you two try any funny business and I swear to God, I’ll kill you,’ said Max. He looked at me, and I nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of power.

  Max was in charge, and I was with him.

  It took a few hours to get over to Slough, where Charlene’s father had his car dealership. We parked the Jaguar outside the front gate and got a minicab to her parents’ house. I thought this was all too risky, but Max said that where rich people were concerned the rules were different. Her parents would be out, and we would be letting ourselves in with a key, and as Charlene was the only one with a key, she would be the one to take the blame.

  ‘How can you rob a place where you have the key?’ he’d said. ‘I want you with me if anything goes wrong, it will look like we’re guests. A couples thing…’

  I wasn’t sold on it, but things had been good between us: he’d given me the bag, and the memory of that picnic on Primrose Hill was still warm in my stomach.

  When we got to the house, it was seriously posh. Iron gates, a long driveway. At the top of a driveway was a huge fish pond, and it was a really beautiful garden. I could see how mad Max was getting when he saw all of this.

  ‘She grew up amongst this? Had all this opportunity? I fucking hate her even more,’ he hissed in my ear
. When we got to the front door she put her key in but it didn’t work.

  ‘They must have changed the locks,’ she said, looking back at them all.

  ‘What about the back door, babe?’ asked Thomas. He was now sweating, and the hair was sticking to his bald patch. ‘Wait here,’ he added to me and Max, and they disappeared around the back. The minicab driver was waiting in the car, parked up by the fountain, and he was absorbed in his phone. I walked over to the fountain and peered down into its depths where some huge fish swam, covered in blotches of red and white.

  Suddenly an alarm went off. I looked up and a blue light was flashing on a box on the front of the house. It was very loud, and it cut through the silence. Max looked agitated, and went to the windows and peered inside. He pulled out his phone and tried a number, but there was no answer.

  ‘Mate, I’m out of here,’ said the minicab driver, starting the engine.

  ‘Wait!’ said Max. He pulled me around the fountain and we got in.

  ‘What the fuck is going on?’ said the driver as he floored the accelerator, spraying up the gravel in the driveway.

  ‘We thought she had a key; it’s her parents’ house,’ I said.

  We zoomed down the long drive with the sound of the alarms still ringing behind us. We came to the large iron gates, and he slowed.

  ‘If these don’t open automatically,’ started the driver, but there was a pause and they swung inwards. We were halfway along the smart avenue when two police cars passed us, but Max didn’t look relieved.

  ‘They still owe me six fucking grand,’ he growled in my ear.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Monday, 16 October 2017

  Erika sat in front of the TV with a cup of coffee and a cigarette. She was watching it side on, glancing out of the window periodically at the leaves falling from the trees into the car park. It was almost like she couldn’t quite acknowledge the fact she was enjoying watching television mid-morning on a weekday. It was a show about botched plastic surgery procedures. She’d seen it last week, and it occurred to her when she was making coffee that the show was on and she was eager not to miss it. She lit up another cigarette and grimaced as on screen a woman was showing the two plastic surgeons how her butt implant surgery had gone wrong, leaving her with one cheek bigger than the other.

  A week had passed since she’d been discharged from the hospital, and she was feeling a little more like herself again. The swelling had gone down on her face, and she was able to manage the pain. Moss had called around a couple of times with food, and despite Erika’s protests, had cleaned up a little, done a load of washing for her, and even been shopping for fruit, ready meals and cigarettes.

  ‘I’m happy to help, but I draw the line at putting you in the shower and washing your naughty bits,’ she’d said on her last visit. It had been the first time Erika had laughed, and with her cracked rib, it had really hurt.

  The surgeons on screen were about to operate on the woman’s vast misshapen bottom, when the front door bell buzzed. She heaved herself out of the chair with a wince, and shuffled through to open it. She was surprised to see Peterson outside.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. He was holding a casserole dish.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘Ouch, Moss said you’d been in the wars.’ He peered at the bruising on her face and she put her hand with the cast up self-consciously.

  ‘Did she?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s been keeping me in the loop. You broke your wrist?’

  ‘And fractured my ribs.’

  He was dressed in blue jeans and a smart black winter coat with a red scarf. He was clean shaven, and his face was still thin, but he seemed to have more energy.

  ‘Come in,’ she said, standing to one side.

  ‘Are you going somewhere?’ he asked, stepping into the hallway and seeing a suitcase by the front door.

  ‘Yeah. I’m going to see Lenka in Slovakia. Stay with her for a bit, see the kids. The baby is now walking, well, she’s not a baby anymore. I’ve been signed off for a few weeks, and I’m going a bit crazy, so I thought it would be a good time to go.’

  They came through to the living room. The woman on screen was lying face down on the operating table and the surgeon was pulling a large silicone implant from one of her buttocks. Erika picked up the remote and switched it off. The flat was silent, and they could hear the wind whistling around the building and the rustle of the piles of dry leaves being whirled around the car park. ‘I’ve never spent so much time in this flat. I didn’t realise how dead and quiet it was during the day.’

  ‘Tell me about it. When are you off?’

  ‘This afternoon.’

  He put the casserole dish down on the kitchen counter. ‘So this is no good?’

  ‘I can freeze it.’

  ‘Mum made it. She sends her love…’ There was an awkward pause. ‘Can I make you a coffee?’

  ‘I’m fine, do you want one?’ she asked.

  ‘Still can’t have it…’ he said, patting his stomach lightly. They were both still standing, and Erika indicated for him to sit.

  ‘I’ve thought about you over the last week, in the silences in this flat…’ She shook her head. “That sounded more morbid and weird than I meant it to. I’ve been thinking about all those weeks and months you were stuck at home.’

  ‘Now you see how it feels.’

  ‘Yeah. Even though I saw what you were going through, I didn’t get it. I’m sorry, James.’

  ‘Erika. We’ve been through this.’

  ‘But I want you to know how sorry I am, about everything.’ She gave him a smile and then winced. The side of her face was still sore. He smiled back.

  ‘Can I just get a water?’

  ‘Sure.’

  He got up and moved to the kitchen, finding a glass and filling it. She thought how different he was from the last few weeks. He was moving normally, and had a spring back in his step. He sat on the sofa, took a sip of the water, and then had to push aside a pile of books and magazines to find a spot on the coffee table for the glass.

  ‘You seem better,’ she said.

  ‘I am. The doctor says I’ve turned a corner. I’ve started eating properly. My appetite came back with a bang a few days ago, and the difference is remarkable. I’m sleeping again… Having regular bowel movements,’ he added, jokily putting a hand to the side of his mouth and pulling a face. ‘I never realised how important these things are to your wellbeing and happiness, until they were gone.’

  ‘That’s great. When do you go back to work?’

  ‘Still a few weeks, but I’m still taking it easy. I hope to start training in the gym soon. Low impact stuff.’

  He noticed her arm in the cast resting on the side of the armchair.

  ‘I didn’t come here to… to gloat, or anything. I came to repay the favours.’

  ‘What favours?’

  ‘You came to see me all those times, you brought food, and you dealt with my bad moods.’

  ‘Those weren’t favours, James. I came as, well, it doesn’t matter now.’

  ‘My girlfriend,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah. Although, I think I stopped being that to you long ago.’

  Peterson didn’t say anything, and he looked past her out of the window. Erika wished she’d left the TV on. The wind moaned and wailed as it blew around the corners of the building.

  ‘You don’t want to…’ he started.

  ‘Get back together?’

  He swallowed and rubbed his hands awkwardly. ‘Erika. I thought we were just friends?’

  ‘We are. But thanks for the update. I now know how you feel,’ said Erika, recoiling at his tone, which indicated that he was letting her down gently.

  ‘Did you think we were getting back together?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Then what?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know. You’re British. I thought it was part of the deal that as a British person you never talk about your feelings. I thought we were just going t
o let it fizzle out.’

  He nodded. ‘OK. Good.’

  ‘OK, good? Did you come here to put the official stamp on things? To dump me?’

  ‘No! But you brought this up.’

  ‘No. I didn’t,’ she said.

  ‘Erika you just did, I was coming here just to give you some food and say hi.’

  ‘Well, you brought the food. You said hi. You can fuck off.’

  He shook his head. ‘You can be such a bitch.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I’ve been called worse.’

  He got up, and went to leave then stopped.

  ‘Erika. We are going to have to work together, and, I want to put on the record that I don’t blame you for what happened. Things have changed between us, that’s all. Our relationship just wasn’t meant to be. Can we just move on, be friends?’

  ‘You just called me a bitch and now you want to be friends.’

  ‘I said you can be a bitch. I didn’t say you are one.’

  ‘Well, seeing as we’re putting things on the record. You are an arsehole to come here when I feel like shit and start this!’ She felt tears prickling her eyes and she put a hand up. ‘Just go… GO!’

  He stood his ground for a moment longer, went to say something, but then changed his mind and left.

  Erika looked at the clock and willed the hours to pass. She wanted to get away, to leave everything behind for a while. It was all too much.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  SATURDAY, 16th SEPTEMBER 2017

  Max has heard nothing from Charlene and Thomas. He came home late last night, drunk, and demanding food. I gave him a plate of pasta. I’d made it earlier in the evening, but after a few hours in the pan it had dried out. He shoved a forkful in his mouth and then spat it out.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘I made it earlier. I didn’t know when you’d be back,’ I said. I was sitting opposite him at the kitchen table, and I had that familiar sinking feeling of dread when I knew things were about to turn bad. It’s like the air starts to buzz around my ears, and a cold trickling feeling starts in my stomach. I begin to sweat and shake, because I know, whatever I do, however I answer, it will be wrong.