The Man in the House

by Emmy Ellis

  “Well, yes,” she said. “It was after midnight. Most people were asleep.”

  “So Emma didn’t scream, then, is that what we’re to believe? Same as with Callie? No one heard them cry out, so they either didn’t, or all the neighbours sleep like logs. Did he gag them first or what?”

  “We’ll find out from the PMs. Zach hasn’t sent the report yet, but if there are fibres in their mouths, we’ll know about it soon enough. I’ve got something to tell you. It’s not pleasant, so you might want to brace yourself.”

  “What for?”

  She told him what had been found inside Callie, cringing at how awful it sounded, how warped and wicked. Depraved.

  “You what?” Andy shoved a hand through his hair. “What the hell is it with the flowers and the nail varnish?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” She checked the mirror again. Nothing, not even a pedestrian or someone out on a bike. “But you can bet it’s important to the killer.”

  “Obviously, otherwise they wouldn’t be leaving it there. I thought sewing their mouth and…you know, their… I thought that was weird enough.”

  “I don’t understand it, I really don’t—the items.” She indicated to go left. “Okay, we know some people have the urge to kill, and I get that, I do. Spouses killing their abusers, people in love triangles, crimes of passion—I understand how that red mist can come down and change you into someone you never thought you’d be.” She wished she’d killed Uthway, but you couldn’t have everything, could you. “But to sew someone up, to do what was done, to leave weird clues… Callie was strangled—is that tied to her in some way? Emma…she was gutted. I didn’t see any strangulation marks, did you?”

  “No. Got to be a special kind of bastard, he has.”

  “Exactly. And that duck is bugging me. And as for the shaver…”

  “Shaver?”

  “Um, sorry, I was getting to that. It was found inside Emma, in her vagina. She had pink nail varnish in her mouth.”

  Andy blew out an extra-long breath. “Fuck me.” He gazed through the side window, then turned to look at her.

  She stared back for a moment, catching a dawning realisation in his eyes, then faced the road again. “What?”

  “They match.”

  “What do?” She glanced in the mirror and, with no one behind, pulled up to the kerb outside the flats.

  “The flowers and the polish. Red for Callie, pink for Emma.”

  “So they do.” Helena switched the engine off and removed the key. “Suzie’s got to know something, don’t you reckon? I’m not buying her saying it means nothing to her.”

  “Maybe she really doesn’t. It might just have something to do with the other two. Suzie’s married with kids—she’s not likely to be mixing with people, not with having nippers and a job to boot. Emma and Callie were single—Emma worked in a pub, plenty of chances to bump into a weirdo. They could have got messed up in some sex den or something.”

  “What, here?” Then she thought about that. Smaltern was the perfect place to run a sex den, what with the many outlying houses, some owned by the rich who might have a penchant for the unusual. Those big houses were private, closed in by tress and gates. Then there was the house in Lime Street where Uthway had kept people captive. “I seriously hope not. We’d have no clue where to start looking for people who were involved in such a thing.”

  “We did it with Uthway, so we’d do it again.”

  “Right, we should get in there and ask some questions. Suzie first, I think. She’ll have her boys to sort later, so us hanging around at bedtime probably won’t be appreciated.”

  They left the car and entered the block of flats. A PC stood in the hallway outside two doors at the end of the corridor, and Helena nodded at him.

  “Let us in then, Clive, there’s a dear,” she said. “Everything okay?”

  “Yes, guv, except some shopping’s been delivered—Jacob Walker got one of his work colleagues from Waitrose to do it under the guise of helping an old woman.”

  That got Helena’s back up. What an absolute dick. “I’ll have a word with him and make him see the importance of not speaking to anyone while they’re here. If he hadn’t used the old lady excuse, I’d have been royally hacked off.” Helena shook her head at Jacob’s stupidity.

  “I read him the riot act earlier,” Clive said quietly, tilting his head in the direction of the second door, presumably where Jacob was. “He seemed suitably sorry.”

  “It was still a stupid thing to do.”

  “I took their phones away for now and all,” Clive said, “seeing as he can’t be trusted. I rang their bosses. Said they wouldn’t be in because of two deaths in the family.”

  “Thanks for doing that. You’re a star, mate.” Helena smiled.

  Clive used a key and pushed the door open. “I don’t know if I like that. I don’t fancy twinkling.”

  Helena laughed. “Shut your face, you.”

  She stepped inside, Andy at her heels, and called, “Suzie? It’s Helena Stratton and Andy Mald.”

  Helena walked into the living room. A man—Robbie, she guessed—slouched beside Suzie on the sofa, and two young boys sat on the floor doing a large jigsaw.

  “I’m so terribly sorry for your loss, again,” Helena said, having been unable to say so when she’d discovered Emma. Suzie had been in the car, and once other officers had arrived, she’d been taken off-scene.

  “I can’t believe they’re gone,” Suzie said, her voice meek.

  Christ, she looked a state, which wasn’t surprising. Her eyes appeared sore, and her eyelashes clumped together where they were wet. She clutched a ratty tissue.

  “Can we have a word in the kitchen?” Helena jerked her head towards the children, indicating what she had to say wasn’t for their ears.

  “I’ll stay with the boys,” the man said. “I’m Robbie, by the way.”

  He didn’t seem too hot either. Helena reckoned he’d had all the stuffing knocked out of him. What a terrible thing for them all to go through. She wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

  Except Uthway…

  “Right, come on then,” Helena said and led the way to the kitchen.

  Andy and Suzie joined her, and they all sat at the small pine table, the door closed.

  Andy got up again, as if uncomfortable being so close to a grieving woman. “Tea or coffee?”

  “Tea for me,” Helena said.

  “Coffee, please, although even having something as simple as that feels wrong,” Suzie said. “Like I can drink it and my sisters can’t. Oh God…” She barked out a sob.

  “It’ll get easier, I promise,” Helena said, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “What I can’t promise is you forgetting, because that will never happen, but you’ll smile again, believe it or not, and laugh, and the first time you do, you’ll feel guilty, but as time moves on, you’ll perhaps learn to remember them fondly and not how they died or why. Do you know why?”

  A doe about to scarper into the safety of the woods, caught in the sights of a hunter, that was what Suzie looked like.

  “No.” She shook her head. “No, I don’t have any idea.”

  “Now,” Helena said, the growl of the boiling kettle a backdrop. “I’m going to tell you something disturbing, and it’s vital that if you know what it means, you tell me, understand?”

  Suzie nodded, eyes wide, although she didn’t seem too convincing at playing an innocent person.

  What is she hiding?

  “This will be hard to hear, okay, but I have to tell you because, to be honest, we have absolutely nothing to go on. Normally, we’d opt to keep this sort of thing to ourselves, but this person needs to be caught, and if what I say jogs your memory, it may well lead us to finding them. We’re worried you and Jacob will be next, hence you being moved here.” Helena took in a long breath then let it out slowly. “Callie and Emma had their mouths and vaginas sewn up.”

  “Oh shit…” Suzie slapped a hand to her forehead, an
d her eyelids fluttered as if she might faint.

  “Deep breaths. That’s it.” Helena rubbed the back of Suzie’s hand. “Are you okay for me to go on? Do you have your inhaler?”

  Suzie closed her eyes. “Yes. In my pocket.”

  “The person who killed them put things in their mouths and private parts.”

  “What? I don’t understand…” Suzie took her inhaler out and had a puff.

  “All right for me to continue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Callie had a rose and nail varnish inside her. Both red.”

  An animal sound crawled out of Suzie, half growl, half snarl. “Oh God… And Emma? Oh, my poor baby sisters. I can’t… I want to say som…”

  “Take another deep breath, love,” Helena said.

  “Emma had a pink tulip on her person, and inside her was pink polish and a man’s electric shaver.”

  “What? A shaver?”

  It wasn’t lost on Helena that she hadn’t had the same confused reaction about the varnish and the flowers. “Do you know what those items mean?”

  The shake of her head came too quickly, too forcefully. This woman was keeping something to herself, Helena was certain of it.

  “Why do you think a killer might want to leave those behind?” Helena pushed.

  “I…I don’t know.”

  “I’m going to take a punt and say you do, Suzie. You know what they’re in relation to. Maybe not the shaver, but the flowers and the varnish…yes, you know. Emma knew, too. That much was obvious when we spoke to her yesterday but, like you, she wouldn’t say. She said she didn’t want to talk about it, which indicates there was something to talk about. Red roses and polish for Callie, a pink tulip and polish for Emma. Do you have a flower and polish, Suzie?”

  Christ, have I gone too far?

  “No. No, I don’t. What a ridiculous thing to say.” She sucked on her inhaler and closed her eyes.

  Can’t bear to let me see the lies in them?

  “Okay. If you’re frightened, if you’ve been threatened, you can tell me, and I will keep you safe, you know that, don’t you?”

  Suzie nodded, eyes still shut. “I can’t…”

  “You can.”

  “No, I can’t.” Her answer was strident this time, and she glanced around the room, gaze landing on the door. An escape route—get me out of here.

  “That’ll do for now. Take your coffee and sit with your boys. And have a think about whether the killer will come for them next.” Low blow, but what the hell.

  Suzie flinched and got up, walking to the door.

  “Can you send Robbie in, please?” Helena asked, turning to look at her.

  “Robbie?” Suzie’s mouth dropped open, and she darted her gaze around, as though the walls were closing in, pressing on her. “What do you need to speak to him for?”

  “Standard procedure. We speak to all family members. Friends. Acquaintances. We have uniforms out there now doing just that. Myself and Andy here are dealing with your family. I’ll go next door to speak to Jacob after.”

  “Jacob. Right.” Suzie took the mug Andy handed to her and left the kitchen, shuffling, head down.

  Andy raised his eyebrows then brought Helena’s tea over. He went back to the side to make Robbie a cuppa, and Robbie himself came in, closing the door behind him. His skin was grey, a vast difference to when they’d first arrived. Perhaps he’d been listening to what they’d been talking about.

  “Take a seat.” Helena gestured to the chair Suzie had vacated and gave him a smile in the hopes it would put him at ease.

  Robbie had been at work at the times of both murders. Olivia had rung his boss and checked; Phil had accessed the company’s CCTV. Robbie had been doing two shifts lately, six hours during the day, then going back for ten at night until two a.m. Helena supposed it was to help pay off the council tax bill Suzie had mentioned.

  “How are you bearing up?” she asked.

  Robbie sat and shrugged. “I’m poleaxed, to be honest. Their mum died recently, and now this. For Suzie to lose her parents and her two sisters…”

  “Yes, this family has had a fair few tragedies, I have to say. Life can be cruel sometimes.” She gave him the same warning she’d given Suzie, then told him about the sewing, flowers, varnish, shaver, and duck.

  Robbie’s face paled, white painting over the grey, and he looked like he might be sick. Andy handed him a coffee, and Robbie accepted it, seeming grateful to have something normal to do. He wrapped his hands around the mug and stared at Helena.

  “I don’t…I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Nor do we. Has Suzie confided in you at all, about items like those I mentioned?”

  “Why would she? Why would anyone know the reasons those things were put…there?”

  “This is what we need to find out. It’s significant, important to the killer. It means something. Suzie says she has no idea.”

  Robbie frowned. “Well, the only thing I can offer is all the girls hate flowers and nail varnish. I just thought it was a quirk, you know, sisters banding together to dislike the same thing. They’re all a bit tomboyish, so I put it down to that. Then there was Emma with her not digging colours—I admit I find that bloody weird. Who hates colours, all of them?”

  “Do you know why a pair of rose-patterned gardening gloves with false nails on them would be left at Callie’s?”

  “Pardon?” Robbie blinked, and his hands shook, sloshing some coffee over the rim of the mug. He flicked one hand to get rid of the spillage, then wiped his fingers on his jeans.

  “Didn’t Suzie tell you about that?” Helena asked.

  “No!”

  “I see.” Why didn’t she? “Do you know why a rubber duck would be left at Emma’s?”

  “No!” he said, drawing out the O. “That’s just plain weird.”

  The man honestly seemed as perplexed as Helena. If she was any judge, he wasn’t bullshitting. He had no idea at all. But all the women disliking flowers and polish… She wouldn’t badger Suzie about it again today, but she’d be asking Jacob in a minute. Maybe he’d be more forthcoming.

  “Okay, thank you for your time. I gather you’ve been told you have to stay here until this is all over, yes?” She stood.

  Robbie got up, too. “Yes. What about the kids going to school?”

  “I’ll get Clive, the officer outside, to contact the head and sort out some work they can do from home. It’s best neither you, Suzie, nor Jacob are seen. You’re aware, what with two sisters being murdered, what that might imply?”

  He nodded. “That Suzie could be next.”

  “Or Jacob, you… Your children.”

  “What?” His eyes bugged.

  “Do you know of anyone who has a grudge against you?” she asked.

  “Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll have a think about it.”

  “You do that. Here’s my card.” She ferreted in her pocket and took one out, handing it to him.

  He held it in both hands, turning it around repeatedly. “I…I don’t know what to say or think.”

  “I can imagine it’s dreadful.”

  “Suzie’s going to go mad with the boys home all day. They’re…a bit naughty.”

  “Then you’ll have to get creative and keep them occupied, won’t you. Better than being dead,” she said.

  He stared at her, the reality of what she’d said obviously sinking in. “God.”

  “Indeed. Let’s hope He keeps you safe, eh?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Suzie sat in the living room, staring into space. The boys were being good for once—maybe they’d picked up on the tension and had thought it best to behave. They’d managed a quarter of the jigsaw, a farmyard scene with chickens and whatnot, a horse or two in a paddock behind a three-bar fence.

  Stratton was getting too close to the truth, and Suzie was crapping her damn self. She’d wanted to say something in the kitchen, the words had been right there on her tongue, but the thought of him find
ing out meant she’d kept the secret, same as she had all these years. But to find out her sisters had been sewn up and those…things had been placed inside them… He’d gone to a whole new level. He’d never been a nice person, she’d disliked him even before he’d started their sessions, but now? He was mad. Had to be.

  If she kept her mouth shut, he wouldn’t come for her.

  But what if she said something out of turn and he came for her next?

  A chill swept through her at the memory of the sessions. She thought back to her first encounter. God, she’d been so content that day, then he’d come along and ruined it.

  Ruined everything.

  * * * *

  Suzie had laughed so hard all day her tummy hurt. It had been such fun so far, what with it being Emma’s birthday, and on a Saturday, too.

  It was July, so that meant a beautiful, sunny day, temperatures soaring into the nineties. Emma’s friends were just arriving, and Suzie stood on the bottom step of the stairs and watched the parade of guests walk by then go through into the back garden. Such pretty dresses, everyone dolled up in their finest, nice shoes over lacy ankle socks. Many a head had ponytails, so severely tight the kids’ eyes looked squinty, and others had Alice bands holding curly locks off foreheads. Presents, clutched in small hands, had bright paper, so many different colours, and some even had glittery bows. Cards were Sellotaped to the sides or tops, and Suzie couldn’t wait to see what Emma had got. They’d have to wait until after the party for that, though, when the family sat round the dinner table and squealed every time a new gift was revealed.

  The front door closed at last—everyone had arrived—and Mum bustled off to follow the bunch of girls. Some neighbours had come round to help with the rabble, and adult voices filtered inside, chased by the chatter of several girls all talking at once.

  Emma bounded in from outside to tug Suzie along, out into the glorious sunshine. Dad had set the boom box up, propping it on a stack of bricks he’d bought to build a nice wall around a fountain once he found the time to do it. Music blasted, all the girls squealing then singing along. Suzie watched the melee in fascination, happy the party was going exactly as they’d hoped it would.