The Watcher : A Chilling Serial Killer Thriller

by Netta Newbound

  2.25am - Thought you might say that, lol. Goodnight, my lovely xxx

  Her mother reappeared carrying a glass of water. “Come on now, sweetheart. Try to get some sleep. You know how tetchy you can be when you’re tired.”

  “Okay, Mammy. Goodnight.” Her phone vibrated, but she didn’t look at it until her mother was out of sight.

  2.25am - Goodnight, sausage. X

  Hannah grinned, and held the phone to her chest, as she snuggled down on the sofa.

  ***

  Don decided he liked Hannah’s no-nonsense mother. There was no way Maxwell-fucking-Myers would get a look-in with her daughter while she was around.

  He’d spent the evening listening to all sorts of things about people from Hannah’s hometown. Somebody called Betsy was pregnant to Carole’s husband. Stephanie from Perth had lost her job for being rude to the customers. Hannah’s brother and his family were settling in nicely in Ireland—he loved his new job, and was thrilled he’d taken the chance.

  Of course, Don wasn’t interested in any of it, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Hannah, and the way her face lit up, as she listened to all the updates.

  He’d never been to Shropshire. It had never appealed to him, until now.

  Once Hannah had drifted off to sleep on the sofa, and her mother snuggled in Hannah’s bed, reading in the dim light with her metal-framed glasses perched on her nose, he turned off the monitors. He needed to make an appearance, or Ken would be wondering where he was, again.

  Chapter 37

  Hannah groaned, as she tried to straighten herself up on the sofa.

  “See! You should’ve shared with me.”

  Hannah glanced around to see her mother sitting in the armchair, a steaming mug in her hands. “Oh, hey! I didn’t hear you get up.” She shuffled to a sitting position.

  Her mother nodded at another cup on the carpet beside the sofa. “I made you a cuppa.”

  “Thanks. I need that. I feel as though I’ve spent the night out on the tiles.”

  “Drink up, and then, I’ll run you a nice hot bath. What time do we have to be ready by? Did you organise flowers?”

  “The funeral isn’t until two. The family don’t want flowers. They’ve requested donations to Diane’s favourite charity.”

  “That’s nice. Flowers are such a waste of money.”

  Hannah nodded. “I’m dreading today. It’s hard to believe Diane is dead. She was such a bright and bubbly person. I liked her a lot.”

  Her mother wandered over, and sat beside her on the sofa. “I know, sweetheart. I’m dreading it myself. I saw your neighbour this morning. Won’t he be going?”

  “My neighbour? Who are you talking about?” Hannah’s stomach twirled.

  Her mother pointed towards Simon’s flat. “He rushed past the window at the crack of dawn. I wouldn’t have seen him, had I not been tidying the pleat on your pelmet.”

  Hannah leapt to her feet, and ran outside barefoot. She wore only a thin nightie.

  “What is it?” Her mother followed close behind.

  Hannah banged the flat of her hand on Simon’s front door. “He’s been away in Seattle. I’ve left him lots of messages. telling him about Diane, but he’s not replied.”

  “Maybe he came home, as soon as he heard.”

  “He must have.”

  She knocked a couple more times, but there was no answer.

  “Are you sure it was him?” Hannah shaded her eyes and tried to peer in Simon’s bedroom window.

  “How can I be sure? I’ve never seen him before.”

  “What did he look like?”

  Her mother shrugged. “Tall. Short hair. Stocky build.”

  “Sounds like him. Then, why won’t he answer?”

  “He could’ve gone out again.”

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  Deflated, Hannah linked her arm through her mother’s. They headed back inside.

  ***

  After his shift had ended, Don considered going to his own flat until later, but he’d checked the monitor, and both women were sleeping soundly, so he headed to Simon’s.

  Once inside, he’d showered, and changed into T-shirt and sweatpants, before dragging his weary body to bed. He was used to everyday noises when trying to sleep. He’d lived above a fast-food shop for years whilst working nights. He had a knack of deciphering the different sounds. In a semi-conscious state, he registered Hannah’s front door opening. But, he hadn’t imagined she’d be heading his way.

  After the initial series of bangs, he slid to the floor, and pinned himself flat to the carpet on the far side of the bed. Then, he heard the women discussing Simon directly outside the window. The interfering old bat had seen him.

  His sloppy, blasé attitude had almost blown his cover. He would need to be more careful. He wasn’t ready to make a move towards Hannah, just yet. Then, he heard the woman describing him in detail. How would he be able to introduce himself as Hannah’s boyfriend in the future if there was a chance she could recognise him?

  Yet another fucking problem he would need to fix, before too long.

  He spent the rest of the morning on tenterhooks, in case they returned, and he didn’t manage a wink of sleep, until he heard them leave a little after one. Then, he threw together his belongings, and scarpered back to his own flat.

  ***

  Hannah was surprised at the huge crowd of mourners gathered together outside the main doors of the Bramhall Inn Function Rooms. Several members of the group held onto large bunches of pink and white balloons.

  “Seems a strange venue for a funeral,” her mother hissed, as they approached the crowd.

  Hannah nodded.

  The first thing she noticed was nobody had dressed in black. Instead, it seemed they’d chosen the brightest clothing possible, making Hannah and her mother stand out in their dark colours.

  Hannah glanced at her mother, feeling suddenly self-conscious. But, her mother just nodded in silent encouragement.

  Moments later, the doors opened, and two formally dressed men invited them inside.

  Upbeat music reached Hannah’s ears, as they approached the doors. This was unlike any funeral she’d ever attended before, not that she’d been to many back in Shropshire, but still.

  A short, rotund man appeared in front of them. He was dressed in a multi-coloured shirt and bright orange trousers. “Welcome. I don’t think we’ve met,” he said.

  Hannah gasped when she looked into his face. His resemblance to Diane was striking. “I’m Hannah. I live in the flat next door to Diane, and this is my mother, Agnes.”

  “Ah, Hannah.” He took Hannah’s hand and shook it warmly. “I did call around a couple of times, but you weren’t home. I’m pleased you could make it. I’m Edward, Diane’s brother.”

  Edward escorted them inside, and was distracted by an elderly man, who was bent double, silent tears rolling down his face. “Uncle Ernie. We’re not supposed to be crying today.” Edward glanced at Hannah, and shrugged an apology.

  She smiled, and made her escape to the back row of seats, dragging her mother by the hand.

  “I feel as though I’ve landed in an alternate universe,” Hannah whispered.

  Her mother nodded towards two women, who were tying the balloons all around the room. “They certainly do things different in the city.”

  Once everyone was inside and seated, the surprisingly upbeat music died down. A gaunt-looking woman with a severe haircut introduced herself as the funeral director. She welcomed everyone to the celebration of Diane’s life.

  At that point, Hannah noticed the enamelled yellow casket at the side of the stage area. She was relieved the lid was fitted firmly. The thought of her friend being inside the box was enough to make Hannah feel nauseous.

  After a number of heartfelt and surprisingly amusing eulogies, the music started up again. Several boxes were passed from person to person, up and down the rows. Hannah presumed they were collection boxes, and took a twenty from her purse. But
, when theirs got closer, she realised everyone was taking something from it, not putting money in. When the young, yellow-shirted man beside her handed it over, she was shocked to see the box contained brightly coloured, felt-tip marker pens.

  Hannah took a purple one, and handed the box to her mother, who chose an orange marker, before passing it on.

  The front row of mourners, Hannah presumed were Diane’s family, including grandparents, got to their feet, and approached the casket.

  From their position at the back, Hannah couldn’t see what they were doing. But, they surrounded Diane’s casket, each of them spending a minute or two before making way for the next in line. It appeared everybody knew what was happening, except for them. Not wanting to appear stupid, she got in line, along with the rest of her row, and slowly made her way to the front.

  Several upbeat songs played, some of which Hannah hadn’t heard before, but one of them, Don’t Worry Be Happy, made Hannah chuckle – this was Diane all over.

  As she approached, there was a brief gap beside the casket, and Hannah whispered, “They’re writing on the coffin!”

  “I guessed as much,” her mother said.

  “But, what will I write?” Her mind was suddenly blank.

  “Just write what she meant to you. Or how you’re feeling now she’s gone.”

  Her stomach began tightening. She’d never been very good at expressing her feelings—especially in front of others. “I can’t do it, Mammy.” She grabbed her mother’s arm.

  Her mother gripped her by the upper arms, and looked directly into her eyes. “Yes, you can. I’ll be right beside you, so don’t worry.”

  She allowed herself to be propelled forwards. Then, before she knew it, she was beside the casket.

  “Come on, sweetheart.” Her mother smiled, and nodded, as she pulled the top off her pen, then she found a gap between all the scribbled messages and drawings, and scrawled, Taken too soon – AJM.

  Tears poured down Hannah’s face, as she read some of the messages. She backed away from the casket, handed her pen to her mother, and headed for the bathroom.

  Chapter 38

  Hannah splashed her face with cold water, and leaned against the sink, forcing herself to calm down.

  Somebody farted in one of the cubicles, followed by a mouthful of expletives.

  Hannah snorted, and tried to stifle a chuckle.

  Moments later, a woman who Hannah guessed was in her sixties shuffled from the cubicle, pulling on her pink, flouncy, layered skirt. “Look what they’ve dressed me in. Diane would be killing herself laughing.”

  Hannah wiped her nose on a hand towel. “Maybe that was the point.” She smiled.

  “Don’t let Edward see you blubbering—we’ve all been read the riot act this morning.”

  “I know. I let the side down, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. In my day, funerals were all about saying goodbye and mourning the passing. The wake is for sharing funny anecdotes and reminiscing. People do everything upside down nowadays.”

  “I must admit, it was different.”

  The older woman put her pudgy arm around Hannah. “Was she a good friend of yours?”

  “My neighbour, but yes, we were good friends.”

  “She was my niece. My brother was her dad. And, for once, I’m pleased he met his maker before his time—this would’ve killed him. He idolised his little girl.”

  Hannah nodded. The tightness in her chest made it difficult to say anything. She blinked a few times. “I’m sorry,” she eventually managed.

  “Let the tears flow. They’re better off out than in. Just like my windy problem.”

  Hannah burst out laughing, snot mixing with her tears. “You’re a scream.”

  “Always was the laughing stock—that’s why they dressed me in this awful lot.” She swished the skirt comically.

  Hannah wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “I feel such a fool. I don’t usually blub, but it has been a terrible week.”

  The woman nodded. “Yes, it has. Come on. Escort a poor old duck out. Apparently, they’ve organised refreshments.” She held her arm out for Hannah to take. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “I’m Hannah.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Hannah. Now, come on, take Auntie Ethel for a glass of sherry.”

  The mourners had moved through a set of sliding doors to a room beyond. They were standing in small clusters, chatting quite happily.

  Hannah escorted Ethel through to the far side of the room, where a man was waving at them frantically. “Is that your husband?” Hannah asked.

  “Lord, no. He’s just a friend. I think he has designs on me, though.”

  Hannah sniggered. “Really?”

  “Don’t know what’s so funny. I’m still a catch—got all my own teeth and a full set of marbles.”

  Hannah shook her head, her eyes wide. “I’m not laughing at you. I promise.”

  After making sure Ethel was safely seated with her cheeky old admirer, Alfred, Hannah scanned the room for her mother. She spotted her deep in conversation with Diane’s brother.

  She made her way over to them.

  “Ah, there you are, sweetheart. Are you feeling better now?”

  “I am, thanks. I don’t know what’s got into me lately. My emotions are all up in the air.”

  Her mother patted her shoulder. “Totally understandable. I was just telling Edward how upset you’ve been.”

  Hannah smiled apologetically. “No more upset than he must’ve been, Mammy.” She shook her head, and eyeballed her mother.

  Edward smiled. “Don’t worry, Hannah. We all grieve differently—take your other neighbour, for instance—Diane had a lot of time for him, but he didn’t turn up today.”

  “Simon? Oh, he’s in Seattle. I’ve been trying to contact him all week.”

  “He didn’t say he was leaving for America.”

  “Why would he? When did you speak to him?”

  “Earlier in the week—Monday, I think it was. When Trish and I cleared out Diane’s flat.”

  Her mother gripped Hannah’s arm. “See, I told you. I wasn’t seeing things. Your friend’s back, after all.”

  “But, it doesn’t make sense. Why didn’t he let me know? Or come today, for that matter?”

  They stayed a little longer to have a few nibbles and a glass of fruit juice.

  But, Hannah couldn’t get Simon out of her head. Had he even gone to the States, after all? Thinking about it, it seemed funny how he’d left right after they’d spent the night together. It wasn’t as if she’d come over all heavy—declaring her true love. In fact, the opposite was true. So why would he avoid her?

  “Penny for them?” Her mother startled her from her trance, and she realised she’d driven halfway across town on automatic pilot.

  “Oh, sorry. I was miles away.”

  “That’s okay. Are we heading home?”

  “Oh, I didn’t even think, to be honest. What do you want to do?”

  “Well, if we’re not far from home, I could do with putting my feet up for an hour or two.”

  “Of course. I told Max we’d catch up with him later. He was going to bring Thai food.”

  Her mother’s lip curled.

  “Don’t you like Thai?”

  “Not really. It’s much too spicy for me. Listen, swing by the store, and we can pick up some groceries. I’ll cook dinner.”

  “Are you sure? We can just get a different takeout. Save you cooking.”

  She shrugged. “You know I don’t like fast food, sweetheart. It’s overpriced and full of salt. If we grab a few steaks and some salad it won’t take much effort to throw together.”

  “Well, if you’re sure. But, I’ll drop you off, so you can have a rest, and I’ll go to the supermarket on my way back from the office.”

  “I didn’t realise you had to go back to work. I thought you had the day off.”

  “Well, I do, but I told Max we’d call in after the funeral. You can come, to
o, if you want to see where I work.”

  “Maybe tomorrow, sweetheart. I’m shattered. So, yeah, drop me home, if you don’t mind.”

  ***

  Don finally got a couple of hours’ sleep. When he woke, he was startled to see he was in his own flat—he hadn’t slept there in quite a while.

  It wasn’t long before he was logging in to the cameras again.

  He had installed three cameras in Hannah’s flat, but only two were showing—the bedroom and the lounge. The one in the bathroom had been flickering for a little while. He’d been meaning to fix it.

  As far as he could tell, Hannah’s mother was home alone. She pottered around in the kitchen for a time, before returning to the living room. Sitting on the sofa, she began to unpin her hair. And then, she brushed the rich red waves until it shone.

  Don presumed she got the colour from a bottle, as most women were predominantly grey at her age.

  After a few minutes, she placed the brush on the coffee table, lifted her feet up onto the sofa, and closed her eyes.

  A thought struck him. This might be the only chance he got to iron out his little wrinkle.

  He quickly dressed in casual black trousers, grey T-shirt, and black trainers. Then, he shrugged into his charcoal-coloured jacket, grabbed his keys, and left.

  His only problem was finding out where Hannah was. He presumed she’d gone back to the office after the funeral, but he couldn’t be certain—she could be in the bath.

  When he parked on the street opposite the flats, he searched around for Hannah’s car. It wasn’t anywhere to be seen, which was a good sign.

  He swiftly exited the car, and ran for the staircase. He knew what he was about to do could prove foolish, but he had no real choice. He marched past Hannah’s front door and straight inside Simon’s, where he once again checked if the coast was clear on the cameras.

  Taking a few deep breaths, he began to psych himself up for what he planned to do. As before, the older woman was sound asleep, sprawled out on the sofa. He could make out her gentle snores.