Love You to Death: An Absolutely Gripping Thriller with a Killer Twist

by Caroline Mitchell

  LOVE YOU TO DEATH

  AN ABSOLUTELY GRIPPING THRILLER WITH A KILLER TWIST

  CAROLINE MITCHELL

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Letter From Caroline

  Acknowledgments

  Also by Caroline Mitchell

  Don’t Turn Around

  Time to Die

  The Silent Twin

  This book is dedicated to the real heroes; the members of the emergency services who risk their lives to protect ours.

  PROLOGUE

  The lights of the Christmas tree twinkled in the dark space. On. Off. On. Off. Then the second set kicked in, sending an array of colours dancing on the walls of the dank grey basement. Despite the absence of windows, Emily Edmonds knew it was sunny outside. The weather forecast had warned it would be the hottest September in five years. She shifted in the cold metal chair. The puddle of urine had soaked into her skirt, casting up the stench of ammonia with every movement. Her wrists sent a sharp slice of pain through her nerve endings as the bindings cut further into her flesh. Something clicked into place and a low whirr ensued. On. Off. On. Off… the light sequence began again. Emily closed her eyes, the flashes still found their way into her vision. Her throat tightened as she sobbed, but no tears came. She was dry. Wept out, pissed out, sweated out. Dry as a bone with nothing left to give.

  Drip… drip… drip… the noise of a leaky tap teased her. Apart from the flashing lights of the artificial tree, she had been left in darkness. But over the course of the day she worked out her surroundings. She was in a basement of some kind, a windowless cave underneath the ground. Her captor seemed at ease when she entered, not looking over her shoulder for fear of being caught. The room housed a sink. Overhead, she could hear the sounds of a functioning home: footsteps, and sometimes a muffled television. Furniture screeching, taps running, toilets flushing. Life went on as normal above her head. Even if she wasn’t gagged, it was doubtful anyone would hear her screams. Her jaw still hurt from the punch she had received last time she tried it. The blood from her loose tooth had been warm, wet and left a bitter aftertaste. It was a relief to have some liquid flow down her throat. Tears finally found their way to her eyes, blurring the gaudy baubles into a kaleidoscope of colours.

  Her eyes flicked up to the ceiling, squinting at the single light bulb hanging from a cobwebbed wire cable. The switch was powered at the top of narrow wooden stairs which creaked when weight was applied. It was a small comfort to know that the noise was enough to wake her when her body fell into slumber. Struggling against her bindings only made the ropes ride higher up her ankles and wrists, and her circulation was almost cut off as it was.

  She stiffened as a door opened, flooding light down the stairs and into her field of vision. Emily blinked away the tears as the woman slowly took each step. Keep calm. Whatever she wants, please God, help me get it right. Visions of Harry, her husband, swam in her memory. How was he coping without her? He would be going out of his mind. Don’t cry. Everything will be alright, just focus…

  ‘It’s almost Christmas,’ the woman said, the childish words curling on her tongue. She looked as if she’d stepped from another era. The Victorian-style outfit consisted of a dark knee-length dress, covered by a lace-trimmed white cotton apron. Lace-up boots tapped on each step as she giggled with delight.

  The woman seemed not to notice the smell, the overwhelming stench of decay. But Emily could not think about the source. It emanated from the dirt-stained floorboards which were rotting and splintered underfoot. The makeshift flooring revealed slices of blackened soil beneath, and Emily shuddered as she inhaled the offensive smell.

  ‘I’ve got a surprise for you,’ the woman said in a sing-song voice, jumping down the last step, both feet together.

  Emily murmured a whine, her eyes wide and pleading.

  ‘Remember our little chat when you talked about Harry?’

  Emily remembered, and regretted every word. Why had she confided in this stranger? Thinking she could trust her with the secrets she held most dear? Yes, Harry could be controlling, but it was only because he loved her and wanted to keep her safe. And now look at her. This is what happened when she tried to leave him. A prickle of fear rose up from within. She would never have said those things if she had known. Lucy was deranged. And she had been wrong. Whoever this person was, she was not her daughter.

  Emily’s heart accelerated with each step Lucy took, until she was behind her, ripping off her gag.

  ‘Tomorrow is Christmas Day, Mummy. And it’s going to be just you and me. No nasty Harry anymore. We’re going to have the perfect day.’

  Emily spat out the bile in her mouth, coughing, until something resembling air entered her lungs. ‘Harry… ’ she gasped, the words scratching against her throat. ‘What have you done with my Harry?’

  Lucy’s voice thinned. ‘I killed him, of course, so we can be together. Tomorrow…’

  But her words were cut short as Emily produced a woeful, garbled scream. ‘No… not my Harry! Get me out of here! Do you hear me? Untie me right now – get me out.’ She rocked in her chair, throwing her head from side to side.

  ‘But Mummy… ’ Lucy said, her face turning dark.

  ‘I’m not your mother,’ Emily screamed. ‘You’
re a monster. I don’t want you! I want my Harry.’

  Lucy turned to the tree, her words cold. ‘After everything I’ve done. You’re not my mother. You’re just a selfish cow.’

  Emily’s chest heaved as she drew in lungfuls of air. She had vowed to stay calm. What had she done? ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I didn’t mean to… Lucy? Please, don’t be cross.’

  But Lucy was ripping the baubles from the branches of the tree, too consumed by anger to hear Emily’s pleas for forgiveness.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucy, please,’ Emily said, her words laced with panic.

  Her heart beat wildly as fear wrapped itself around her, and she strained against her bindings, desperate to escape. And then she saw it. The flash of anger in Lucy’s eyes. Spittle had formed in the corner of her mouth, white and frothy. She was beyond reasoning. The urine Emily was holding trickled once more down her thigh.

  Darkness enveloped them as Lucy ripped the lights from their socket, her tortured wail filling the lightless room. Emily finally deciphered the source of the smell. Inhaling one last shuddering breath, she closed her eyes and prayed.

  CHAPTER ONE

  With one swig Ruby knocked back the fizzy concoction that promised to ease your pounding head and provide a burst of energy. Her team were still jubilant from yesterday’s result and the post-celebratory drinking session that had followed. They had taken some major players off the streets, but, just like always, there would be more lining up to take their place. She pulled up a chair, preparing to pick over the bones of the case with the familiar faces gathered around her.

  ‘Morning all.’ DI Jack Downes’s voice boomed a greeting in his Northern Irish accent, his broad, lumbering frame making itself known. Coffee in one hand and croissant in the other, he spoke mid-bite, sending flecks of pastry flying onto the foot-worn carpet. Shoreditch Serious Crime Unit took up residence in the third floor of the drab grey concrete building. A man with a big voice, DI Downes had no problem being heard. His eyes lit on Ruby, and he shoved down the last of his pastry before marching over and giving her shoulder a little shake. ‘Alright mucker? How are yous this fine morning?’

  Ruby winced, feeling every bone in her body rattle. ‘Tender, so handle with care.’

  Downes sucked in air between his teeth as she turned to greet him face on. ‘Ouch. That’s come up in the night.’

  Ruby winced as she touched the pad of swollen flesh. High cheekbones may have been a blessing in her teenage years, but not so when she found herself on the receiving end of a left hook. ‘It’s only a couple of stitches,’ she said, the side of her mouth jerking up in an involuntary smile. ‘He came off a lot worse.’

  ‘Well, don’t let me interrupt you,’ he said, taking a seat. The faint smell of mint and whiskey vented from her DI’s breath. Since his wife’s death, his fondness for ‘a wee dram’ had become more frequent, and Ruby had warned him more than once that he was putting too much at risk so near retirement.

  Yesterday’s post-incident briefing had been a time for backslapping. But today they would discuss ‘learning points’ in more detail, or what she preferred to call the ‘fuck-up round-up’ of the day before.

  Luddy, also known as DC Owen Ludgrove, handed her a mug of sweet tea to wash down the bitter taste of Alka-Seltzer on her tongue. A likeable guy with tousled black hair, Luddy had the character of a young man who would go places one day. ‘Keen but green,’ Downes called him, but Ruby could not fault Luddy’s enthusiasm for the job.

  Ruby slid the intelligence pack from the desk she was leaning on and thumbed through the pages. ‘Great job last night, guys, but there’s a couple of things we need to cover before we can move on.’ Her dark eyes roamed over the group of satisfied faces. All except one.

  DC Eve Tanner was shrinking into her chair, her head bowed.

  ‘This isn’t a matter of naming and shaming,’ Ruby added. ‘It’s learning how we can do it better next time. So who’d like to get started? Silence fell, and for a few seconds all she could hear was the sound of the traffic outside. A siren blared in the distance, reminding Ruby that their time was limited. Crime didn’t stop just because they had a good result. ‘OK, I’ll make a start. What we expected was a group of young dealers believed to have been involved in a kidnapping. What we got was a small army, including five out of ten of our most wanted. You’ll have seen their faces on our wall. Violent bastards with a string of offences to their names. It was a great collar, but the fact there were firearms in the flat makes us lucky we came away with just cuts and bruises.’ Ruby glanced around the room, grateful her team were all present to recount the event. Battle-scarred and still wearing yesterday’s crumpled shirts, they were a scruffy band of officers. All except Eve, who was immaculately dressed in her black trouser suit; her blonde hair pinned neatly in a bun.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Eve said, her voice low. ‘I should have delved deeper into the source of the intelligence.’

  ‘And had better eyeballs on the premises,’ Ruby added.

  Eve would have worked closely with the intelligence support unit, but the covert human intelligence sources had been hers. However, CHIS weren’t always wholly reliable, and Ruby wasn’t about to publicly flog her only female DC. The fact Eve stood and watched her colleagues getting pummelled worried Ruby more than her lack of preparation for the raid. Why hadn’t she supported them by getting stuck in? All the same, it had been good to blow the cobwebs off. She hadn’t been in a hands-on brawl for months and had come away feeling exhilarated, barely conscious of the blood running down her cheek. But there was no point in going over old ground when they had so much to do. ‘Besides not taking intel at face value, what else can we take from this?’

  ‘To have each other’s backs, and the ability to use a pair of handcuffs,’ DC Ash Baker said, linking his bruised knuckles and resting them on his rotund stomach.

  Ruby had a vague recollection of seeing him holding a thick-necked skinhead in a headlock, swearing at Luddy to cuff him from behind.

  ‘Did you see the width of his wrists?’ Luddy protested. ‘Besides, modern handcuffs aren’t as flexible as the ones back in your day.’

  Ash took a breath to retort, and Ruby raised her hand to cut him off.

  ‘Excuse me,’ DI Downes said, skirting past her to answer his phone.

  ‘Who was it that moaned about having TSU along?’ The presence of a team from the tactical support unit, equipped with shields and Tasers, had undoubtedly saved the day.

  ‘I was going by the intel provided,’ Ash said, glaring at Eve.

  ‘Well, it’s a good thing I erred on the side of caution. If the suspects had made use of their firearms, some of us might not be here today.’

  Ruby could see her words were having an effect on Eve, whose neck seemed to have disappeared completely as she shrank like a tortoise in its shell. Ruby had a couple more points to go over, but decided to leave it for another time.

  ‘This morning we’re homicide-free, so we can get on with our backlog of work. We’ve got a suspect in the bin for armed robbery; Ash I’d like you to deal with that. You can pair up with Luddy in interview.’

  ‘Why can’t Eve?’ Ash said, making no effort to hide his reluctance to work with the newest member of the team.

  ‘Because I asked you.’

  Ash mumbled some retort about babysitting, while Ruby delegated the workload to the rest of the group. It consisted of drug-related violent crimes and a gang-related grievous bodily harm. Being based in central East London, it was nothing out of the ordinary for the team.

  Heads swivelled as Downes strode from his office holding a scrap of paper with illegible writing. His eyes were bright, as if he had just picked the winning lottery numbers. Ruby recognised the look, which could only mean one thing.

  So much for being homicide-free.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Ruby took the wheel of the grey Ford Focus to enable Downes to speak to officers over his police radio. She had left her team setting the wheels of
investigation turning.

  ‘What have we got?’ Ruby said as she negotiated a shortcut to the scene of the crime.

  ‘It’s a domestic murder by the sound of it. Neighbours called it in, saying they heard a couple arguing. Uniform have just got there and confirmed a body at the scene.’

  ‘Husband and wife?’ Ruby said.

  ‘Seems that way, although there’s no sign of the missus now.’

  ‘She’s probably panicked and ran off. Sounds pretty straightforward. Why are we dealing with it?’

  ‘The other teams are up to their necks in it. We haven’t had any homicides on our patch in a couple of days so… ’

  ‘Any intelligence on the couple?’

  ‘Her name is Emily Edmonds, married to Harry Edmonds. His identity has been confirmed, and neither is known to us. He owns a café on Well Street.’

  ‘That must be Harry’s Café, the one across from Lidl. There’s a few of them dotted about the place.’

  Downes tapped his palms against his lap in a restless drumbeat. ‘This is all I fecking need,’ he muttered. ‘If this involves a local businessman, Worrow will be crawling over it like a fly on shite.’

  Ruby nodded emphatically. She used to get on with the Chief, but lately she had borne the brunt of her temper on more than one occasion. Sloppy workforce, disgusting conditions, and what was the last one? Oh yes, insubordination. There had been times when she wondered if her superior was in possession of a pair of balls. You had to be to reach promotion at Worrow’s tender age. Ruby’s knuckles whitened over the steering wheel. Their office might not smell of pot-pourri, but they were real coppers and they got things done. She took a deep calming breath through her nostrils and exhaled slowly as she parked up behind a police car.

  The red-brick townhouse on Tresham Walk looked nothing out of the ordinary, but given its location in London, the three-bedroom abode on the quiet residential street could fetch three quarters of a million pounds on the property market. Her own recent property search had proved fruitless, and the thought of spending another year in her hovel of a flat was too depressing to face. She noticed the blinds twitch next door and smiled. Nosey neighbours were welcome, particularly in domestic murders. She listened as DI Downes received updates via his police radio. Intelligence stated there had been previous calls by concerned neighbours. Mr Edmonds had told attending officers that he was a member of the local dramatics group and had been practising his lines. Ruby rolled her eyes. Amateur dramatics indeed.