Sleep Tight

by Caroline Mitchell

  ‘Three’s a crowd,’ Ruby said, ‘and there’s not enough room in my flat. I thought we could bring her to your house instead.’

  Luddy paled. ‘You are kidding, aren’t you?’

  ‘Wouldn’t your mum approve?’ Ruby said with a grin. She nodded towards the traffic lights, which had turned green. ‘Of course I’m kidding, you numpty. Now put your foot down, we’ve got work to do.’

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Noses twitching, the furred creatures stood on their hind legs, their beady black eyes following the doctor as he walked. Nightly, he strolled in the derelict hospital, led by the street light filtering through the insect-littered windows. He passed the rows of bed frames standing sentry in the wards. Each one interspersed by wall lamps, their rusted necks craned towards the doorway as if watching him pass. On the walls faded cartoon characters guided him through the winding corridors and abandoned wards – but their smiles were macabre, their teeth sharp. Sometimes, as he passed, he could almost hear their whispers as they conspired against him. But then the air was different at night. That was when the shadows came to life and the walls began to breathe. Glass splintered underfoot as he returned to his surgery. The haunting smell of antiseptic filtered through his nostrils, but it was the memory of a scent from days long gone. He did not see the crumbling plaster, the missing ceiling tiles, nor smell the sour rodent urine laced with rotting brick. His mind brought him to a happier time – when he was respected and of value to the world. And now he was sure that time would come again. He froze, his feet temporarily stilled as he strained to hear a siren wail. Was it police or ambulance? In London, such sounds were part of the cacophony of city life.

  People noticed less in the city. Plugged into the latest technology, like automatons, they filtered from work to the tubes. But he still drew the attention of those engaged with the world. Children would squeal and point, recoiling as he cast his one good eye in their direction. They were the most perfect creatures of all. But these days they were also the most guarded. Yet here he was, reduced to snatching dirty whores off the street. He licked his lips, a smile rising on his face. But then he did turn them into such pretty little girls.

  His armpits damp with sweat, he unbuttoned his military coat and hooked it onto the rusted drip stand. He did not need it for his latest victim because he was no longer afforded the luxury of time. His newest victim had presented the greatest challenge, and he had come close to being discovered. It was a long time since he had made a house call, but they were next on the list. With the police investigation gaining momentum, they were hardly likely to come to him.

  He smoothed the blanket over the sleeping form, his raspy breath cooling his parted lips. Excitement blossomed inside him. Escaping the tower block unnoticed had not been easy, but the drug he administered had been enough to make his latest guest appear drunk as they wobbled on their feet. In that estate, such behaviour did not raise an eyelid. All the same, it was a blessing that he had use of a lift because he couldn’t have dragged them all the way down the flights of stairs. Like an addiction, his compulsion was demanding and would have forced him to try just the same.

  The pleasure he derived from creating his works of art dissipated all too quickly, leaving him thirsting for more. He clamped a hand on his chest, slowing his breathing and taking comfort as his heart relaxed into a steady beat. Why was he putting himself through all this? The answer lay in the full-length mirror before him. He forced himself to look at his reflection: it was a face where pain and anger were laid bare. He glanced at his milky left eye through the vision of his right. They had not just taken his sight, they had taken everything. His revenge would not be complete until each of his victims was struck off the list.

  He glanced down at the sleeping form, taking in its potential. He had art to present to the world, but sometimes it felt like the world wasn’t listening. But many artists felt that way, tortured and undervalued. He was following in the footsteps of the greats. It was such a shame that fame had not come until their passing. Perhaps it would be the same for him. It gave him comfort to know that he would continue living long after his body had crumbled to powder and bone. He placed a hand on his victim’s warm brow as if he could absorb their energy for what was to come. They were sleeping now, at peace with their pathetic life. He glanced at his watch: it was time to get to work.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  ‘Tweedy,’ Ruby said, with more than a hint of concern. She had come in the front way, not expecting to see her old school friend standing in line. ‘What brings you here?’ A sliver of panic rose within as she wondered what was so wrong that he had to drag himself to the front counter of Shoreditch police station to ask for her.

  She ushered him into a side room. Devoid of CCTV cameras, it was a functional square block. Windowless, it held a table and chairs, a computer for taking statements, and a black panic strip, which ran horizontally against the walls.

  ‘I was in the area, thought I’d pop in. . . see how things are going.’

  Tweedy dragged out the hard plastic chair from beneath the table. Its rubber feet screeched against the flooring as he shoved it back to allow for his girth. He was casually dressed, wearing his usual tweed jacket and jeans. His jumper rode up as he sat down, exposing a generous midsection. One of the hazards of being six foot seven, Ruby thought. The small box room was free from the distractions of the busy main desk, and at least it afforded them some privacy. All the same, she felt uncomfortable with his presence at her place of work, particularly when he was there to discuss Nathan Crosby.

  Her eyes were drawn to the slice of light under the door, blotted by the shadow on the other side. She frowned, glancing at Tweedy and then nodding silently towards the bottom of the door. This was not a safe environment to discuss incriminating details.

  She was not the only one who looked uncomfortable. Tweedy rubbed his beard, a light sheen of sweat lacing his forehead.

  Ruby tried to keep her tone light, but inside her stomach was twisting as she tried to figure out the reasons behind his impromptu visit. ‘Obviously, I can’t discuss details of the case. . .’ She reeled off the textbook response just in case anyone was listening. ‘But the investigation’s progressing at a decent pace. I expect we’ll be making an arrest very soon.’ She leant forward, her voice barely audible. ‘Is Nathan OK?’ she whispered, followed by a louder: ‘I trust everything is OK with you, nothing to add since your last statement?’

  ‘No, all’s good here,’ he said, stuffing his hands deep in the pockets of his tweed jacket. ‘I only wanted an update.’

  ‘As soon as we’ve made an arrest I’ll inform you.’ Ruby glanced back at the door. Whoever was listening in was still out there. ‘I have to ask you,’ she said, shaking her head before he returned the response, ‘have you heard from Nathan Crosby at all? We’re very keen to eliminate him from our enquiries.’

  A conspiratorial smile touched Tweedy’s lips. ‘He’s away on business. He has an alibi for that day, hasn’t he?’

  ‘Oh yes, he has. As I said, it was just to go over a few minor things. We’ve a lot of enquiries to get through. I’d like to clear this up sooner rather than later.’

  ‘For sure. From what I’ve heard, he’ll be back in a couple of days. His property business has been manic. One of the district managers walked out. He’s hiring a new guy, and he’s meant to be shit hot. But that’s Nathan for ya. You can’t keep a good man down.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Anyway, I’d best shoot off. I don’t want to keep you any longer.’ As he pushed back his chair, the shadowy figure hastily slid away like a fleeting ghost just as dawn was about to break. Ruby wondered who had been listening in on their conversation. ‘Know of any good places to eat around here?’ Tweedy said, laying his hand on the door handle.

  Ruby smiled. Like her, Tweedy had grown up in the East End. It may have changed in the past few years, with food chains replacing the restaurants that could not afford the increase in rent, but regardless of the chang
e, he knew this place like the back of his hand. ‘Sure. Do you like Nando’s?’ she said, playing along.

  ‘Sounds good. Can you point me in the right direction?’

  ‘It’s just around the corner. I’ll show you out.’

  Ruby scoped the reception area as she left. Apart from desk staff sitting behind the glass counter, the once busy space was now empty. Taking a breath of evening air, they walked past The Eagle pub as they made their way down the street. Satisfied she was out of earshot, she glanced up at Tweedy as she spoke. Even in her heels he towered over her. ‘Bloody hell, mate, what brought you to the nick? You do know we had an audience in there, don’t you?’

  Tweedy gave her a sheepish grin. ‘Sorry, um. . . Nathan wanted an update. He’s itching to go home.’

  Ruby frowned. If Nathan wanted an update, he could have called her on their private phone. ‘You gave me a fright. I thought something had happened to him.’

  ‘God, no, he’s fine. I’ll be glad when things can get back to normal. He keeps beating me in Call of Duty.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Ruby said, giving him the eye. She was still not convinced he was telling the truth. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing else?’

  ‘I hear you’re going after Doctor Tanner,’ Tweedy said, changing the subject.

  ‘I am. Why?’ Ruby raised her voice against the steady stream of traffic and pedestrians.

  ‘I just wanted to say, well, to warn you, just be careful. I meant to say it when you were down last, but you were gone before I realised, and Nathan probably didn’t think to tell you.’

  ‘Tell me what?’

  ‘He was a nasty piece of work. I’m surprised he managed to stay out of trouble this long. I stayed out of that side of things because I don’t have the stomach for it, but the doctor was very handy with a scalpel, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I know he was employed for more than bandaging up cuts and bruises,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah, there was that,’ he said grimly. They were both referring to torture – the side of the business that Lenny employed to bring people around to his way of thinking. ‘Tanner was an evil bastard, cunning. Liked to set people up. Sometimes he’d loosen people’s bindings then wait around the corner and slit their throats as they tried to escape. I just wanted to let you know what you’re up against. Don’t underestimate him. He was a slippery fucker, quick on his feet.’

  Hands in her trouser pockets, Ruby arched an eyebrow, giving Tweedy a look that said she could take care of herself.

  ‘I know you’re capable, but he’s a trap setter. Don’t go bundling in or you’ll get hurt.’ He sighed, his words trailing away on the exhale. ‘I wouldn’t want that on my conscience.’

  ‘What do you mean, on your conscience?’ Ruby said as small alarm bells began to activate in the back of her head.

  Tweedy’s gaze swivelled up the street and back to Ruby. ‘What? Oh, nothing, just that I’d blame myself if I hadn’t warned you. Anyway, it’s time I was off. See ya round, yeah?’

  ‘Sure. Thanks, mate, take care.’

  She returned to the station, lost in thought. Tweedy was her friend, she shouldn’t doubt him, but someone had planted the evidence in Nathan’s home – and someone knew more than they were letting on. As she approached the front counter, she was pleased to see the face of Bob, a member of staff she had known since her probationary days. His small stout frame took up residence behind the glass, and with his balding head and greying beard, he reminded her of a garden gnome. She leant on the counter; she had to ask. ‘Sorry, mate, but do you remember who was waiting to use the statement room while I was in there? I think someone else had it booked, but, you know what I’m like, I just went straight in.’

  Bob raised his bushy grey eyebrows. ‘Ah, I see. I did wonder why he was standing there. It was DI Downes. I told him the other room was free, but he said it was OK.’

  ‘No worries, I’ll speak to him now.’

  Possibilities raced through her mind as she took the stairs to her floor. Why was DI Downes listening in, and how did he know Tweedy was there? Unless. . . she paused, chilled by the thought that greeted her. Unless Tweedy wasn’t there to meet her. She made the presumption and ushered him into the room – but what if she was wrong? From the second they began talking, he seemed on edge. She had put it down to him being in a police station. But what if she had interrupted another meeting? One between Tweedy and her DI?

  Chapter Forty-Five

  For the next couple of hours, Ruby threw herself into her work. She hated delegation but for now, she was happy to relinquish the hundreds of lines of enquiries to the various officers who were experts, specialising in their field. DI Downes and DCI Worrow were coming into their own, working together as a strong team. They had a band of dedicated officers, and enquiries were being rushed through. But she could not stop the creeping sense of unease. Someone close to her was lying; she just had to work out who.

  Her priority was arresting the killer. As much as she wanted to clear Nathan’s name, she was doing it for the victims first. That first night she had found Lisa Caldwell lying naked on the grass – hair splayed, lips slightly parted – she could not get her image out of her mind. And then there was Ellie, one of life’s unfortunates, ending up cold and lifeless on a graveyard tomb. As for April. . . her unnatural red hair floating in the water, mingling with the blood of the cavity from which her tongue had been ruthlessly plucked. Ruby blinked tightly, the memories like wisps of smoke floating into the ether, but she needed them to drive her on to solve the case before he killed again.

  She busied herself with reading through the online enquiries to date, tutting as each one drew up a blank. It seemed as if Doctor Tanner was a ghost – everywhere at once, yet impossible to find. Officers had updated the result of their investigations in turn and lines and lines of enquiries flooded her computer screen. Tanner’s flat had been empty for so long that the electricity supply had been switched off due to unpaid bills. The benefits he once claimed were no longer being drawn, and his debit card was found, unused, on his kitchen table by searching officers. A warrant for his arrest had been granted, and he was not someone who would slip through a crowd unseen. But still, there were no signs of his existence. The newspapers were less than understanding, only too keen to point the finger of blame.

  DCI Worrow had updated the system too, asking the question: what was he doing for food, heat, money? After researching his bank statements, officers revealed that Doctor Tanner had drawn out a large sum of cash right before this all began. The bank CCTV corroborated this information as he was seen making the withdrawal. Yet his passport was still in his flat and, apparently, he did not drive. CCTV was being interrogated, but such vast areas took time to download and view. Time was a luxury they could ill afford.

  The next urgent line of enquiry was to safeguard the people on the list. The thought of Sharon being at her flat gave Ruby’s stomach another excuse to churn. Sharon hated the police, and could just as easily pick up the phone and make an accusation against her. But would she hang her out to dry for trying to save her life?

  Tomorrow she would continue the search for Mandy, one of the girls on Crosby’s list. An ex-prostitute, she had dropped off the radar. A public appeal had been denied. Thanks to the press, the fact the murderer was targeting prostitutes was known to all. Ruby seethed as she had read them. The portrayal of the working girls as opposed to university student Lisa had left her stunned. Mandy would not appreciate her former life being splashed in the tabloids. Ruby could see the screaming headlines now.

  Former prostitute on serial killer list.

  And even if they used her first name in the appeal, how many Mandys were ex-prostitutes from the city centre?

  She thought about her last case, and the grim basement reserved for the victims. How many basements were there in central London? How many homes with bunkers since the war? Local hospitals had been checked, along with their spare rooms, mortuary and basements. Derelict buildings wer
e next on the list. And then there were graveyards, sewers and more. Ruby took a deep breath as her emotions swelled. It felt as if she were staring out to sea as she sat in a tiny lifeboat waiting for a tsunami to engulf her. She thought of Sharon waiting in her flat. What if she wasn’t there? What if Lenny paid her another visit and found her guest lying in her bed? What on earth would she say to that? As the last of the lights in the office were extinguished, she knew she could not delay it any longer; she had to go home.

  Standing at the office door, Ruby glanced back at her desk, wondering if she would be there tomorrow, or up to her neck in disciplinary proceedings. She switched off her desk lamp, gathering up all her resolve to deal with what was waiting at home.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  As Ruby approached the front door of her flat, she pressed her ear to the wood. People like Sharon were unpredictable, capable of turning on the one person who tried to help because nobody had ever offered anything for free. She checked under the door for shadows. Such was her mistrust that it was becoming a habit. But all that seeped out was the orange glow of the lamp she had left turned on. She smiled to herself as she wondered if the music Sharon had left blaring on the TV had irritated her neighbours that day. Inconsiderate sods, she thought, pulling out her keys. It gave her a certain satisfaction to feed them a bit of their own medicine. Pushing open the door, she stood to one side before kicking off her heels and padding inside.

  Releasing her breath, she glanced around the room. ‘Sharon?’ she called out, her disappointment growing as she realised she had gone. Shards of glass littered the linoleum floor, the remnants of the glass of milk she had poured her before she left. Ruby shook her head, slipping into a pair of old flats as she grabbed a dustpan and brush.