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

by Caroline Mitchell

  ‘How’s it going?’ Ruby said, taking a seat across from her.

  The flat was small and grubby, with one bedroom shared by six women who slept top to toe on a mattress on the floor. They worked the streets by rotation; their lives revolving around sex, sleep, and getting high. Ruby knew their life histories because she had tried to help them, but failed. They had all got there the same way: groomed from a young age by the charming man who would become their jailer. But Frenchie did not need bars on the windows as long as he fed their addiction.

  ‘Cheers,’ Goldie said, hastily unwrapping the tuna sandwich from its wrapper. ‘I’m starving, that’s how it’s going. Frenchie barely gives me time to sleep, fucking knobhead.’

  Ruby could submit an intelligence report: organise another raid to close Frenchie down. But it was a revolving door syndrome, and any loss in earnings would have to be paid back from him driving the women twice as hard. ‘We can help, if you’ll let us,’ Ruby said, taking a sip of her tea. Even while she was saying it she knew Goldie would never leave Frenchie: not while she depended on him to supply the drugs that her body craved.

  ‘I saw the press conference on the telly last night,’ Goldie said, failing to acknowledge Ruby’s offer of help. ‘That geezer offering ten grand for information about the killer of that Charlotte woman. You know, the hit and run under the bridge.’

  Ruby was aware of the reward. It had been sanctioned by the police. Charlotte’s husband had offered it in the hope it would provide them with information on her murderer. They also made the newspaper aware of the name ‘Lucy’, although it already seemed common knowledge in the media. She knew who to thank for that. She leaned forward in a conspiratorial whisper. ‘What have you got?’ she said.

  Goldie nodded, wiping the crumbs from her low-cut top. ‘This Lucy, she’s the same person mentioned in the press conference, isn’t she? If you want to help me, the best way of doing it is to get me that reward money.’

  ‘Want one?’ Ruby asked, offering a Silk Cut up to Goldie. It was a new packet: bought to lower the barriers between them.

  Goldie lit the cigarette, her words peppered with smoke. ‘There’s been this girl sniffing round, asking questions. Called herself Lucy; said she was looking for her mum.’

  Luddy reached into his folder and Ruby caught his eye, giving a discreet shake of the head. There was no way Goldie would sign a statement, and even a police pocket notebook entry could be enough cause for her to clam up. They would have to commit her words to memory, or not at all.

  ‘I’m telling you because you’re the only one I trust to get me that reward. I don’t want it getting out that I’ve been helping the police. Not after… ’ Goldie rubbed the nub of her thumb. Her visit with Ruby may have been cleared, but she was left with a lifelong reminder of what happened to people who grassed.

  Luddy placed his hands back on his lap, and Ruby relaxed into the conversation.

  ‘You have my word. If your information leads to a charge, then you’ll get your reward.’ She dragged on her cigarette, enjoying the hit of tobacco as it reached the back of her throat. ‘What can you tell me about Lucy? I need times, descriptions, anything you can give me.’

  ‘She came to me a couple of nights ago,’ Goldie said, ‘She was new to the area, didn’t know her way around. But she was street-smart, you know? Knew where to come for information.’

  ‘Can you describe her?’ Ruby topped her cigarette as Luddy coughed from under the cloud of smoke.

  ‘White girl. Scruffy clothes, hungry face. I suppose she was about five foot five, black hair cropped short, big eyes.’

  ‘Colour?’

  Goldie shrugged. ‘Oh God, I don’t know; it was dark. She was wearing baggy clothes, but I’d say she was skinny. She didn’t look like no junkie though. I asked what she wanted and she said she was looking for her mum. Get this, she said her mum’s name was Ruby Preston.’

  ‘Why did she say that?’ Luddy said, seemingly forgetting his promise to leave the talking to Ruby.

  Ruby inwardly groaned. She had not expected Lucy to give away any information about herself, much less have Goldie blurt it out.

  Goldie seemed oblivious to the stir she had caused. ‘She said she’d been given up for adoption when she was a kid, and now she was coming to even the score. I told her to go through the authorities. I know all about that. I’ve given up a kid myself.’ Goldie cocked a head to one side. ‘Is she yours? There ain’t many Ruby Prestons around here that I know about.’

  ‘Did she say where she was staying?’ Ruby said.

  Goldie looked from Luddy to Ruby and nodded her head in acknowledgement of her avoidance of the question. ‘In the homeless shelter as far as I know. I don’t think she was planning no happy reunion.’

  ‘But you don’t know where she is now?’ Ruby asked.

  ‘I have something better,’ Goldie said, shoving her hand down her pink fluorescent bra and producing a piece of wrinkled paper. ‘Her email address.’

  ‘Didn’t she give you a phone number?’

  ‘Nah. Said her battery was flat. She told me to email her when I had news. I said she’d have to pay for it, and she said she’d get the money somewhere. She was looking for work: cash in hand.’

  ‘Okay, call out the address and I’ll make a note,’ Ruby said, sliding a pen from the bun in her hair. She looked up to see Goldie smiling, her teeth looking like a carnival attraction.

  ‘You’re as bad as me, girl. What else you got tucked away in there?’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know,’ Ruby said, pulling out her notebook to take down the information. ‘I’m ready.’

  Goldie blurted a laugh. ‘You think I’m gonna hand over information just like that? Come on, girl, you know how this works.’

  Ruby frowned. ‘You said you were helping out for the reward. That’s ten grand you could pocket. What more do you want?’

  Goldie stubbed out her cigarette into an overflowing ashtray and rose from the sofa. The nub of her thumb looked angry and raw as she waved her hand in the air. ‘Don’t mug me off. There’s fuck all chance of me getting that reward, and what I know is worth a lot more.’

  ‘Goldie… ’ Ruby stood, the air of friendliness dissipating fast.

  ‘I’m in for a beating if I don’t hit my quota. It’s dog eat dog out there.’

  Ruby exhaled loudly. Goldie was pulling a fast one. She had already been paid for her time: Lenny had seen to that. But she was canny enough to pick up that she had information Ruby did not want Luddy to know. ‘Amazing. Even in your walk of life you have targets to meet,’ Ruby mused, trying not to sound pissed off. ‘Now what do you want? For all I know it’s not even working.’

  ‘A ton. I would ask for more, but I know you’re skint.’

  Ruby laughed at her audacity. ‘A hundred quid? You’re having a laugh. Do you know how much money I come out with after paying all my bills? A pittance. I could barely afford this pack of cigarettes.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that love, but we all have our sob stories and believe me, I’d swap places with you in a heartbeat. Ask that boyfriend of yours. He’s got plenty of spare cash lying around.’

  Ruby frowned. Goldie was crossing the line.

  ‘We’re not… ’ Luddy began to say, because Ruby guessed that somehow in his dream world he thought Goldie was talking about him. Ruby stood, nodding at the door. ‘Do you mind waiting outside for a second, DC Ludgrove? I’ll be right out behind you.’

  Luddy frowned, opening his mouth to speak, then thinking better of it as he obeyed orders.

  Satisfied he was out of earshot, Ruby faced Goldie head on. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at?’

  ‘Oh, so your copper friend doesn’t know about you and Mr Crosby then? I reckon this information is worth a bit more than a sandwich and a cold cuppa tea, don’t you?’ Goldie’s eyes narrowed as she smiled.

  In one swift movement Ruby grabbed Goldie’s good thumb, bending it back as far as it would go. ‘
You want to keep this one intact? Then best not to piss me off. I’ve already paid for our meeting, so hand it over. Now.’

  ‘Alright, Jeez,’ Goldie said, shaking her hand as Ruby released it. ‘I forgot what a fiery little bitch you were. Here, take it. I won’t be contacting her. People like that bring nothing but trouble to my door.’

  Ruby shoved the folded up notepaper into her pocket. ‘You shouldn’t push me, Goldie.’ She turned to glance out the window to see the reassuring form of Luddy’s silhouette. ‘I’ve got the Crosbys breathing down my neck on one side and my boss on the other. I thought we were on the level.’

  Goldie sniffed. ‘Well, in that case, I’m sorry. You can’t blame a girl for trying, can you?’

  Ruby shrugged. ‘Do you think this Lucy was involved in the murders? For all we know this might just be a coincidence.’

  ‘She never mentioned any murders to me. She just seemed determined to find out where you lived. I offered her some work to see her through. Frenchie’s always on the lookout for some fresh meat. And young girls are right up his alley.’

  Ruby inwardly shuddered. If this were her daughter, then she would have to scoop her up off the streets before she came to any harm. Goldie worked on commission and would not think twice about destroying a young girl’s life in return for smack. ‘I don’t think Nathan would be very happy with that,’ Ruby said. ‘He has a vested interest in this girl.’

  Goldie’s mouth gaped open. The last thing she would want to do would be to anger the Crosby family. ‘She turned me down; said she had some bar work lined up. I will tell you one thing though, she had a look of you about her.’

  * * *

  It was not until Ruby was clear of Goldie’s flat that she checked the notepaper she had handed over. She frowned, unsure how she should feel. It was the same email address that she had contacted earlier, which Ruby had presumed was defunct. But now she wondered if she was wrong. The ‘no longer in use’ email could have been faked to throw her off the scent. It seemed that Lucy had doubled her efforts; contacting both the journalist and Goldie while on her hunt. Ruby welcomed the contact. The thought of her daughter being connected to the case made her go cold inside. In her wildest dreams she had never envisaged such a reunion. But she had to be strong, and serve the public she vowed to protect.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Luddy said as he turned the ignition of the car.

  ‘Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,’ Ruby said, staring at the notepaper.

  ‘You always say that, Sarge. Was that an official line of enquiry or not? That stuff she said about Lucy being your daughter… ’

  ‘Is something you have to wipe from your mind. She’s a smackhead, Luddy. She’ll do anything for money. That’s why you don’t go around there alone. She used to give us some great intel, but she wasn’t past blackmailing officers either. Remember DC McGuire?’

  Luddy scratched his head. ‘I remember. He was involved in a sexual assault.’

  ‘Right,’ Ruby said as he drove away from the block of flats. ‘Who do you think made the allegation?’

  ‘But the police seized DNA evidence.’

  ‘So they did. And Goldie put it there. Shoved her fingers down her knickers and grabbed him by the hands. I told you. She’s dangerous. You need to be on your toes with that one.’

  Luddy frowned. ‘So when she said Lucy was looking for you… ’

  ‘It’s just more of the same. I don’t want you giving that shit airtime, do you hear me?’

  ‘And the email address?’

  ‘Leave it to me. If anything comes of it, I’ll update the investigation. Alright?’

  Luddy braked sharply as the traffic lights turned red. ‘I don’t mean to speak out of turn, Sarge.’

  ‘Ruby. Call me Ruby. I’ve told you a million times.’

  ‘Ruby,’ Luddy repeated. ‘I’m worried. This is a big investigation. The last thing I want to see is you getting into hot water because you’re not following police procedure.’

  Ruby’s jaw clenched as she tried to contain her annoyance. ‘How many years have you got in the job?’

  ‘Five next month,’ Luddy said, giving her a sideways glance as the lights turned green.

  ‘How about you come back to me in another five years, when you’re a little more qualified to tell me how to do mine?’ Ruby pushed up the ventilator flaps on the dashboard, allowing a gust of dust-coated air to blast its way out. It smelt of engine oil, takeaway food, and the recent shower of rain. She lived and breathed the streets, and would lay her neck on the line to protect its occupants. But how did she tell an idealist that the world was not black and white? Ruby had fought the war from both sides, and did not trust either of them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  ‘We meet again,’ Chris Douglas, the forensic pathologist said as he gowned up outside the address of the semi-detached property on Greenwood Road.

  ‘It’s becoming a bit of a habit, isn’t it?’ Ruby replied, ramming her foot through the paper suit. Her mood was steadily going downhill. After no response from the phone number, she was beginning to regret her meeting with Lenny. With the discovery of another body things were taking an ugly turn. She looked up to see Chris regarding her with some curiosity.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he said, handing her a paper mask as he followed her to the crime scene. The late afternoon sun beat down on Ruby’s back, and she was growing more irritable by the minute.

  ‘I’m fine.’ Ruby pulled the elastic over the back of her head. ‘They said the body appears staged?’

  ‘Yes. Complete with crepe on the door. Given its connection to Emily Edmonds I thought I’d take a look.’

  Ruby ducked under the flapping crime scene tape. She wanted more than anything for Chris to be wrong. At least the Emily Edmonds’s case had been contained. Emily, Harry, and even Charlotte all belonged to the same story. But an unrelated victim meant the potential for future bloodshed was strong. The length of black crepe billowed on the front door, acting as a warning for those who entered.

  She gazed around the property. A four floor Victorian home. It was currently vacant, having been placed up for sale the month before. Just like the last time, DI Downes had beaten Ruby to it, but on this occasion the body was situated in an upstairs bedroom. She craned her neck as she followed his voice, being careful not to touch the banisters while she climbed the narrow stairwell. Spread out over four floors, the rooms were small and box-like, but lavishly furnished. Once again, Ruby found herself comparing it to her poky little flat, but consoled herself that at least her flat did not currently house a corpse.

  ‘There ye are,’ Downes said. ‘Any luck with your enquiries?’

  Ruby shook her head. She’d barely had time to drop Luddy off at the station before being made aware of another body.

  The team were working flat out, but here she was, concealing intelligence about a possible lead. A lead which could provide vital clues to the team. But questions would be asked about its origin, and after this afternoon’s encounter she did not trust Goldie not to squeal. She wanted to believe that the person claiming to be her daughter was not the same Lucy responsible for the murders, but the email address suggested otherwise. And now there was a new victim to add to the list. The weight of responsibility never felt heavier.

  ‘May I?’ Ruby said, switching on the light with her gloved hand. The thin curtain fabric did little to blot out the strength of the late afternoon sun, but Ruby wanted the clearest picture possible of the crime scene before her. She gazed at the mirror which was shrouded in a thin veil of black gauze. On the dresser, a small quartz travel clock lay devoid of batteries like a creature with its internal organs removed. Ruby turned it over. ‘One p.m.: the same time that was on the clock at Emily’s dump site,’ Ruby said. Somewhere in the corridors of her mind she felt a whisper of familiarity to this scene, yet it was faint: too faint to draw upon as she tried to drag it into her mind.

  ‘They’ve unplugged the digital cloc
k too,’ Downes said. ‘Did you catch the briefing on the victim?’

  Ruby shook her head, having missed radio updates during her heated debate with Luddy.

  ‘Her name’s Monica Sherwood. Works in banking. Her husband reported her missing yesterday. He came back from a conference to find the house empty. Her phone, wallet, everything was at home, which is several miles from here, by the way.’

  ‘No sign of forced entry?’

  ‘Nope, neither here or at home. Like Emily, she gave a daughter up for adoption over twenty years ago.’

  ‘Which means we’ve got a serial killer on our hands,’ Ruby said solemnly, approaching the body.

  Monica’s hair was draped over the pillow; her lips coated in what looked like a fresh application of red lipstick. Her long brunette locks appeared recently brushed, but the clump of matted hair at the back of her skull suggested something more sinister. An application of ivory foundation masked the bruises darkening her skin. Her face lacked the terrified expression of her predecessor, Emily Edmonds, which still haunted Ruby’s nightmares.

  ‘Death was quicker for this one,’ Ruby said, voicing her thoughts aloud. She cleared her throat, realising that the forensic pathologist was staring at her. ‘Any idea of cause?’

  Chris bent over the body, lightly moving Monica’s head to one side. ‘There’s obvious trauma to the back of the skull. She has ligature marks to her wrists, and from the lesions around her mouth I’d say she was wearing a gag. She doesn’t seem to have the same lacerations to the tongue as the previous victim. Body appears to have been washed and staged like before, which won’t help with forensic recovery. I’ll be able to tell you more after the post-mortem.’