by Joy Ellis
They all peered at the image, hoping to see someone they recognised, but the face was that of a stranger. Spooky printed it off and grinned at their disappointed faces.
‘Hey, you guys! This is just the first try! I can alter things like weight, skin tone and hair at the touch of a key. So shout if you see anything even vaguely familiar, and I’ll concentrate on that, okay?’
The second attempt was no better. Nikki felt panic beginning to stir. This was their lifeline, hers and that of other potential victims.
Spooky altered the variables and continued to produce possible likenesses from the basic bone structure. More weight, less weight, hair long, hair short, black, blonde, red, crew-cut, curly. Each slight alteration produced a singularly different-looking woman.
Spooky was the first to make a connection.
‘There’s something I recognise here. It’s the mouth.’ She reshaped the upper lip a fraction. ‘No, that’s not it.’ She went back, then tweaked it again. ‘Yes, that’s more like it. Now, the forehead, and there’s something about the eyebrows too.’ She sat back and stared at the monitor. ‘There is definitely something here. I just can’t quite get to it.’
Joseph moved closer. ‘This is someone I’ve seen recently.’ He groaned. ‘But who?’
Spooky smoothed and reshaped the face to fit slight changes in weight.
‘Spooky! Hold it there!’ Yvonne’s voice was excited. ‘It is the mouth. This is certainly someone we should know.’ She held her hand over the screen so that only the chin and mouth could be seen. ‘Who the hell is it?’
‘I haven’t a clue,’ said Cat despondently.
Nikki too felt a jolt of recognition. ‘You’re right! But who is it? Listen, I’m going to get the list of all thirty odd women. I’ll call out the names, and everyone try to put a face to them. Especially you, Spooky. You should know these women far better than any of us.’
Seconds later, Nikki reappeared with the list and began to read out the names. She got to twenty-one and still there was no spark of recognition.
‘Celia Kenington, lawyer.’ They shook their heads.
‘Harriet Page, Zena Paris’s manager. Well, I know for a fact that it isn’t her.’
‘Sammy Cohen.’ More shaking of heads.
‘Hang on, Nik!’ Spooky bit her lip, ‘sorry, I mean, DI Galena, I think I’ve got it! She’s a Briar Patch woman all right! Look, if I just give her shoulder-length red hair, styled like this.’ She added the new feature. ‘And change the eye colour completely. Yes, it’s Charlene Crawford! She works at Greenborough Hospital, the path lab or somewhere like that . . . God, yes, it’s Charlene!’
‘But Cat and I interviewed her!’ Ben’s voice rose, ‘And she had long dark chestnut hair and glasses.’
‘No, she doesn’t. She’s got medium length red hair. I saw her just the other day.’
Ben peered at the screen. ‘Yes! It’s her face! Damn it, she must have been wearing a wig. And she does work in the path lab at the hospital. We saw her hospital security ID badge.’
‘Close up? Did you check it thoroughly?’
‘No,’ said Cat. ‘She was fiddling with it all the time, I saw her name, but not her department.’
‘Oh, she works there alright,’ Joseph added tautly, ‘but not in the path lab. Can you give her short cropped blond hair, a bit like Cat’s?’
Spooky tapped the keyboard.
Nikki gasped. ‘Oh, my God! She doesn’t work in the path lab at all! She’s one of Rory Wilkinson’s two mortuary technicians! Spike and Charlie! Charlene is Charlie!’ She exhaled. ‘Richard Foley said she’d have a job that would help to relieve her cravings! Shit! She’s been working in the morgue with her victims!’
‘Oh Lord! Including her own father!’ Cat spoke in a whisper.
Nikki thought of the last time she had called in at Rory’s laboratory. Charlie had been standing gazing at the bleached bones of Gordon Hammond. Her murdered father. She grabbed at the nearest phone and called the lab. ‘She’s off duty for two days. Rory’s office are phoning back with her address.’
‘No need. She lives in a rambling old house on the corner of Viking Crescent and Foster Way.’ Spooky shook her head in amazement. ‘And she told me her father left it to her in his will.’
‘Well, we know that was a lie. Her poor father owned nothing. Brilliant work, Spooky! Okay, it’s time to go, at last! I want everyone in the main murder room, on the double!’
‘I’ll get DI Mercer.’ Dave ran from the room.
‘And I’ll get Superintendent Woodhall,’ said Joseph, and followed him out.
‘Can I do anything?’ Spooky looked all set to don a stab-proof vest and join the police officers.
‘You’ve done enough for one day! Get home to Bliss and that pooch of yours. Once we’ve picked this woman up, we’ll all be able to sleep at night, or in your case walk the seabank again. And thanks for what you’ve done, you’ve been a diamond.’
* * *
The windscreen wipers swished across the rain-splashed glass, and Nikki’s heart pounded in time to their rhythmic thump, thump, thump.
Viking Crescent was only a five minute drive from the station. In four, several police cars and vans screeched to a halt outside the tree-lined driveway. The house was dark, and as empty as it looked. It was now six o’clock, and Nikki had been right, the sky was already dark with gathering night clouds.
‘What do we do? Seal it off and get the SOCOs in, or back off and wait to see if she comes home?’ Joseph looked at his boss.
‘Gill?’ Nikki turned to her. ‘What’s your feeling on this?’
‘Let’s clear all the uniforms out of sight and leave a covert presence here. Then we’ll put a watch on all roads in.’ She looked at Nikki. ‘I don’t think she’s coming back, but we can’t risk it. Do you agree?’
‘One hundred per cent. Now, if she’s not here and not at work, where is she?’
‘Hunting down another victim?’
‘Her swansong maybe?’ The thought made Nikki shudder. ‘Look, Gill, will you organise everything here? I want to get back to the station and get a team together to check out all her possible targets. I want to make sure the more vulnerable ones are safe.’
‘Go ahead. I’ll be back as soon as I’m through here.’
* * *
‘Richard? Sorry to bother you. We’ve identified Avril Hammond, but I need your help. I want to know who she might target if she only had one last opportunity to kill.’
On the other end of the line, the psychologist took in a ragged breath.
‘Don’t do this to me, Nikki.’
‘You’re my best hope, Richard. Sod it, you’re my only hope. I have to predict her next move, or someone else will die.’
‘Okay, but whatever I say, just remember she’s a psychopathic killer and normal logic doesn’t apply.’
‘Deal. So let’s just say she conforms to type, who is she after, Richard, for her final act?’
‘From what Sally King tells me, and from your reports, she hates weakness in any form. She believed her original victims were weak, and that her father was a weak man. The youngsters she’s abused recently have been the same, too easily manipulated. She thinks she’s very clever, well, she is. So if I had to guess, I’d say she’ll choose a much stronger adversary this time. Someone that caused her problems, fought back. Someone who would not be sweet-talked with promises of sexual fulfilment. Someone quite like yourself, Nikki.’
‘Me?’ The thought horrified her.
‘Or Sally. She has been fighting Avril Hammond every day of her life since she was eight years old.’
‘Do you want me to arrange for some officers to come out to the clinic?’
‘Our security is good here, but as we are dealing with a real threat, a little extra help would not go amiss, thank you.’
‘So, someone who has been a thorn in her side, someone who may have had a part in her downfall . . . ?’
‘Exactly. But she could al
ways surprise us. She might disappear and reinvent herself in another part of the country, or choose some random person. Remember, Nikki, no rules.’
‘Thanks, Richard, and I’ll sort you out some protection.’
Nikki arranged for backup to go to Richard Foley’s clinic. She made a list of anyone Avril might believe was standing in her way. She stared at the names and her blood turned to ice.
‘Joseph! Everyone! I need your help.’ She threw each of her team a note with a name and a telephone number scribbled on it. ‘Ring them now! Tell them to lock their doors and windows and not to go out for any reason, okay? Even if the caller says it’s a matter of life and death, because that’s just what it could be — theirs! And if they hear from, or see the woman they know as Charlene or Charlie Crawford, they must dial 999 at once.’
She lifted her receiver to phone Spooky. She heard Joseph asking for Dr John Draper, Dave requesting a word with Sammy, and Cat already talking to Zena Paris.
Spooky was not back yet. Not wishing to alarm Bliss, Nikki simply asked if she would get her partner to ring her on her mobile as soon as she came in. Dr Draper and his wife were both at home, and took Joseph’s warning very seriously indeed. Zena Paris took a little more persuading but finally promised to cancel her supper engagement and stay at home. She also said she would contact Harriet Page.
‘Who’s next, ma’am?’ Cat held up the receiver.
‘Dr Sylvia Caulfield. Here’s her number. And, Cat, don’t let her bully you. Tell her that she must not go out on any house calls tonight. Another GP will have to cover for her. Got it?’
‘Yes, boss.’ Cat began to dial.
Joseph, Dave and Ben were all looking at her.
‘Dave, will you ring Professor Anna Blunt. Joseph, do a very tactful call — no, we can’t phone them with news like this. I want you to go to the Lawson house, you know where it is. This should be done in person, okay?’
‘Quite right. How much do you want me to tell them?’
‘Play it by ear, Joseph. There is no doubt in my mind that Charlene Crawford is the killer, and Maria Lawson probably knows that already. I’m sure that as soon as forensics get to her home and take something personal, the DNA and fingerprints from the crime scenes will tie up immediately. You can tell them whatever you feel appropriate.’
Joseph left, and Nikki sat wondering who else should be contacted.
‘Your so-called Professor Blunt has a guest staying tonight.’ Dave ticked the name. ‘No doubt she’s safe at home, impressing some innocent woman with her bogus academic credentials. I don’t think Cat is having much luck with Dr Caulfield, though.’
Cat covered the receiver with her hand. ‘This is not good, ma’am. She’s already out on a call and her mobile is switched off.’
Nikki’s heart sank. ‘Does her surgery know where she has gone?’
‘They said she had two calls, one from a patient, and then a personal one, some friend in trouble. I’ve rung the patient but Sylvia has been and gone, with no mention of her next destination. I’m getting back to the surgery now, but it’s engaged.’
‘Hang up, Cat. Vonnie, Ben and I will go out to West Salterby. This really doesn’t sound good. You stay here and organise a telephone check on calls to Dr Caulfield’s practice number. Find out from her receptionist what time she received those two calls, and take it from there. I want to know which “friend” is in so much trouble that Sylvia drops everything and dashes off into the night with her mobile switched off.’ She grabbed her bag and coat. ‘Christ! Contact the butcher’s daughter, Delia Roberts. Get word to her when you’re free, okay? And ring your old friend, Cyril, too. Avril might remember that the old boy was her father’s best friend. Yvonne and Ben, come with me!’
While they were running through the car park, Nikki heard her mobile. She grabbed it from her pocket and saw that it was Spooky.
With a sigh of relief, she told Spooky what had happened.
‘Don’t worry, Nikki. The boys across the road are bringing in a takeaway tonight, and we are well locked up. We’ll even take the dog out in twos, I promise.’ Nikki was about to end the call when Spooky said, ‘What about Rosemary and Denise?’
Nikki swore. How could she forget to ring her own cousin? ‘Ringing now, Spooky. Luckily they don’t rate too high on the “at risk” register, do they?’
Spooky agreed. ‘As far as I know they have never had much to do with Charlene. I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t very comfortable around her.’
Nikki tapped Denise’s name as she climbed behind the wheel. Luckily her cousin answered immediately. After she had assured Nikki that they were both at home and going nowhere, Nikki threw her phone to Ben and accelerated out of the station.
She sped along the empty road to West Salterby. She had to reach Sylvia Caulfield. The more Nikki thought about that self-assured woman in her swirling skirts, the more certain she was that Sylvia was Avril’s next target.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
A receptionist at the doctor’s surgery had stayed to take calls, and one of Sylvia’s partners was still there, waiting for news of his colleague.
‘There’s a couple of cars on their way, Dr Tulley. We believe that Dr Caulfield is in grave danger. We have to locate her, and fast. You’re sure she said absolutely nothing to anyone before she left?’ Nikki said.
The doctor ran a hand through thinning hair and tried to recall exactly what his partner had said. ‘She said that she had to call on one of our long-term patients, a lad with MS who has picked up a chest infection. Then she had to . . . what did she say? Ah yes, she had to pour oil on troubled waters. A friend in trouble was all she said. She said nothing about having to travel to see this mysterious person, so I wondered if they were meeting at her home. Have you tried her place?’
‘There is no answer on the phone, and a patrol car told us that her drive is empty. We are going out there as soon as we have more men to cover us.’
‘This is about the killer, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Dr Tulley. We believe Sylvia is the target,’ Nikki said
He sank onto a chair and shook his head. ‘Sylvia, of all people. Well, Sylvia will give as good as she gets, Inspector.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of, Doctor. And she won’t have the slightest idea of what she is up against.’
Outside, a siren screamed through the night, followed by another, and then a third.
Great, thought Nikki. So much for the subtle approach. She turned to Ben and Yvonne. ‘Come on. Grab a couple of uniformed units and let’s check her home.’
* * *
The rain had eased into a fine misty drizzle that seeped through clothing and chilled the skin. Sylvia’s house looked dark and empty. Unannounced by sirens or blue lights, and in absolute silence, policemen crept through the shrubbery.
Greg Woodhall appeared at Nikki’s side. ‘We’ll go in on your word, Nikki. Gill has armed officers back and front, and we’re all ready to go.’
‘Right, sir. They know who they are dealing with, don’t they? She has nothing left to lose, she likes knives and we don’t know how she’ll react. She could give herself up, sit back and enjoy the media attention, or she may try to take out every officer who goes near her. Doc Foley says that in a case like hers, there are no rules.’
‘And of course, she may not even be in there.’ The super sounded as if he were trying to convince himself.
‘I have a feeling she’s there, sir. With Dr Caulfield. We must do everything we can to keep her safe.’
If we are not too late.
‘At least she’s easy to spot, with her bright clothes—’ His radio spluttered and crackled. He looked at Nikki. ‘We’re ready when you are.’
She, Ben and Yvonne moved closer to their armed colleagues at the front line.
‘Let’s go!’
* * *
Their search of the ground floor revealed nothing but empty rooms. Gill Mercer, Ben, Yvonne and Nikki, with three uniformed officers,
gathered at the bottom of the stairs. At a nod from Nikki, they charged up, two at a time. The first two bedrooms were empty.
They burst through the third door.
The only light came from their torch-beams. Nikki later saw that all the lamps had been smashed.
The shafts of light illuminated two figures. One of them had a knife in her hand, and stood frozen like an animal caught in a car’s headlights. The other woman lay huddled at her feet, her skirts flashing a brilliant scarlet and emerald. She let out a cry of anguish and relief and tried to crawl away, all the time looking up in dread at the tall figure looming above her.
It was all over in an instant. An armed officer dashed forward and dragged Sylvia to safety. Another officer threw a blanket around her, and helped her from the darkened room.
As she went, she called out to Nikki. ‘She’s mad! She . . .’
Ben Radley was screaming. ‘I said, put the knife down! Now!’
Nikki turned back to the room and heard a cry. ‘Ma’am! Come here!’ Ben’s voice was full of horror. Instantly she knew that something had gone terribly wrong. She saw again the figure in the hall being helped down the stairs, and the fleeting glimpse beneath the swirling colourful skirt, of . . . black trainers!
Ben and Yvonne were still with the woman they had believed to be Avril Hammond.
‘Get a proper light in there, for fuck’s sake!’ yelled Gill Mercer.
‘And tell the others to keep hold of that first woman! I think she’s our killer!’ Nikki’s voice was hoarse.
Nikki ran to Ben’s side and realised that Avril Hammond had faked a horrible tableau to confuse them.
Sylvia Caulfield, dressed in her captor’s clothes, stood like a statue, her ankles and legs bound tightly together and secured to the wooden frame of a heavy bed. One arm had been bent up from the elbow and taped tightly to her upper arm. The knife was tied firmly into her clenched fist, and Sylvia’s lips had been taped shut. It hadn’t been madness in those eyes. It had been utter terror.