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

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Love You to Death: An Absolutely Gripping Thriller with a Killer Twist Page 26

by Caroline Mitchell


  ‘Someone could have sent it for her,’ Downes said.

  ‘But it’s not just the notice, is it? She’s been with him all morning. Anita’s out there waiting to be discovered. It would have taken time to stage the body, put it in place. They’d need transportation too. It couldn’t be her.’

  ‘As you said, she’s been with her father. How far would Nathan go to keep her out of prison?’

  ‘You’re so bloody cynical. It wasn’t Nathan, alright?’ Ruby snapped, unwilling to allow the thought to cross her mind. As far as she was concerned, her ex would never hurt a woman. Growing up in a cycle of domestic abuse repelled him from any such act.

  ‘Steady on, girl, I’m just saying keep an open mind.’ Downes lumbered towards the door. ‘I’m heading to the Park Royal Hotel. It’s on the watch list as a possible dump site. You coming with me?’

  It was the name of the fictional hotel featured in the movie. There were a few variations of the name in several London hotels: The Park Royal, The Royal Park; police were attending them all, and judging by the updates Downes had received they had all turned up blank.

  ‘Has it been under surveillance?’

  ‘Yes,’ Downes said.

  ‘And it’s a no-show so far?’

  Downes nodded in affirmation.

  ‘Then there’s got to be another location.’

  For once, Ruby asked Downes to drive. He negotiated the traffic with as much haste as he could while Ruby tapped on her phone, seeking out possible dump sites.

  ‘The hotel in the movie: it could be any number of places. How would someone dump a body, if they’re all on high alert?’

  ‘Don’t ya think we’ve been asking ourselves that? How did they get into those houses and leave Emily and Monica for us to find?’

  ‘Those houses were empty… ’ Ruby’s voice trailed away, unwilling to admit that they were all on the Crosby Estate Agents’ books. ‘Of course! Turn left here.’

  ‘Where are you taking me? This isn’t the way to the Park Royal,’ Downes said.

  Ruby tapped on her phone, indicating he take the Marylebone flyover. ‘Bear with me, boss; I have a theory. Emily and Monica, they didn’t know the movie. That’s why they suffered violent deaths. But Anita did. In fact, she probably knew it off by heart – her husband said she used to watch it over and over again. So the happy ever after wouldn’t be the reunion in the hotel: it’s where they drive off together into the sunset.’

  Ruby was referring to the final scene. It wasn’t set in a grand house or hotel but a car. Having found her daughter, the mother of the little girl sat behind the steering wheel waiting for Lucy to jump in beside her, before driving away.

  ‘Except it’s not a happy ending, is it?’ Downes said in a gravelly voice. ‘We’ve just been served a death notice.’

  ‘I know. But maybe the killer’s come to the conclusion there’s no happy ending to be found.’

  ‘Where does this leave Sophie? Is she a replica of the adopted child? Are we going to find her in the car too?’ Downes said.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ Ruby replayed the final scene in her mind: mother and child driving away; Lucy’s suitcase on the back seat of the car. A chilling thought surfaced. Emily had been found in the foetal position, the forensic pathologist surmising she had been kept in a box-like space. What better way to transport a body in broad daylight than in a suitcase?

  ‘All the local hotels have been on high alert,’ Downes said. ‘I can’t see how our killer could just turn up and dump a body in a car with people walking by.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ Ruby said. ‘That’s why we’re going to a derelict hotel. It’s empty, just like the houses where the other bodies were found. It doesn’t matter if it’s no longer in use. They can park outside and still be in keeping with the theme.’

  ‘I never thought of that.’

  ‘I could be wrong. But it’s worth checking out.’ She could have asked a local unit to attend, but she had an unofficial ownership of the case and could not relinquish it now. The hotel in the movie was grand: the building looming into the view looked anything but.

  ‘The Magnat?’ Downes said. ‘Why have you brought us here?’ The Magnat Polish Pub had been derelict since 2012, closing down after numerous reports of violence. The drab two-storey building was a shadow of the once beautiful 1930s hotel.

  ‘It hasn’t always been a pub,’ Ruby said. ‘It used to be called the Park Royal Hotel.’

  ‘The same name as the one in the movie,’ Downes said. ‘Good thinking.’

  ‘I’ve found it on a site on my phone: Derelict London.’

  Downes pulled up a small distance away. ‘Let’s walk,’ he said. ‘We don’t want to spook them if they’re already here.’

  But as Ruby’s heels echoed on the gritty pavement all she could see was a lone, rusted Fiat Panda. And in it was a blonde woman wearing sunglasses, her face tilted in the direction of the road ahead. Her hands gripped the steering wheel as if she was waiting to drive away. Ruby’s heart plummeted as she drew near. Dressed in a black netted hat and skirt suit was the body of Anita Devine.

  ‘Don’t touch anything,’ Downes said, signalling he was returning to his car. ‘There’s crime scene tape in the boot. We’ll cordon the area off and call for backup.’

  Soon the street would be buzzing with crime scene investigators and police. But for now it was deathly calm. Nobody had noticed that the woman sitting behind the steering wheel was a corpse.

  Ruby peered through the dust-streaked car window. Her pallid face, her bloodless lips; it was a heart-breaking sight to see such a young woman trussed up in this way. Cable ties looped around the steering wheel under the black leather gloves tied Anita’s hands into position. A thin rope looped under a neck scarf attached to the headrest kept her upright. Blood bloomed from the centre of her suit jacket, difficult to see against the dark fabric. ‘I’m sorry,’ Ruby whispered, her words sticking in her throat as she noticed a thin layer of fog on the inside windscreen. Could it be?… Wrenching back the door she pushed her two fingers against Anita’s carotid artery. The faint soft pulse of a heartbeat. ‘Shit,’ Ruby whispered, ripping open her blouse. The wound was superficial, but the bruises on Anita’s neck told a different story. Had an attempt at asphyxiation brought her to the brink of death? Ruby swivelled her head to call for Downes. ‘She’s alive. Call for an ambulance, she’s alive!’

  Downes raced towards her, his radio pressed to his ear. Wasting no time they performed emergency first aid. But one thought was drowning out all others in Ruby’s mind. Where was Sophie?

  Ruby felt a jolt in her chest as she caught sight of the oversized suitcase on the back seat. Please don’t let that be what I think it is, she thought, as Downes’s radio broke the silence behind her.

  Death had almost touched Anita, but what about her child? She thought about what Anita must have gone through, and the panic she must have felt for her daughter. ‘We’ve got to get that suitcase open,’ Ruby said, turning to her superior for permission. ‘Sophie could be in there.’

  Downes nodded, handing her a set of PVC gloves. ‘Do it.’

  Pulling back the door, Ruby forced herself to take cool steady breaths. She didn’t know if the killer had meant to finish Anita off, but after seeing what she did to Emily’s husband, Harry, little sympathy would have been afforded to her child. Kneeling on the seat, she leaned over the brown canvas suitcase, her heart sinking as she felt its weight. Her internal voice shot a warning down the corridors of her mind. Prepare yourself. It’s a dead weight. She glanced around the car, her heart beating against her ribcage. She was encompassed by the promise of death; the tar-stained ceiling felt like it was closing in. She tugged the zip across the jagged silver teeth. Discovering Anita was harrowing enough – the thoughts of finding her dead child was horrific.

  Ruby pulled the zip harder, cursing under her breath as it jammed. These were the times she wished she worked as a school teacher, or in a supermarket checkout. To ha
ve the luxury of falling asleep in bed worrying about simple things, such as telephone bills and if the bins had been put out; not whether the suitcase she was opening was going to house the corpse of a murdered child.

  Finally, the zip became free. She opened the suitcase preparing for the worst.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  ‘Fucking Bastard.’ Ruby exhaled as a pile of bricks wrapped in a blanket tumbled out. Lucy had done it to taunt her: weighing-down the suitcase to mimic the weight of a child. A pinprick of light lit her troubled mind. Sophie may still be alive. Staggering from the car, Ruby took Downes’s arm when it was offered. The paramedics were here now, talking in urgent voices as they worked on getting Anita from the car onto an awaiting stretcher. Evening was closing in, and people were gathering behind the police tape. This was not the time to fall apart. ‘I’m OK,’ Ruby said gratefully, taking a couple of deep breaths. iPhones were lifted; her distress filmed for other people’s viewing pleasure. Ruby’s glance fell back onto Anita. She wanted to tell her that everything would be alright and she would save her little girl. But there were no guarantees in a world where God did not listen.

  * * *

  By the time she got back to the station, Ruby knew where her focus lay. Taking a sip of tea that had gone cold, she worked her way through the recent updates on the case. The list of keyholders for the body dump sites had been spoken to, but there was one name that stood out from the rest. Her brow furrowed as she turned her attention once again to the post-mortem photos. And now, peering at the images, a piece of the puzzle fell into place. The truth was, she had had a suspect in mind. The idea had seemed preposterous; she had kept pushing it away. But how many times does someone need to pop up on the periphery before you start taking them seriously?

  She could not ignore the facts. But what if she was wrong?

  * * *

  Ruby knew exactly where she had to go. An unknown number flashed up on her mobile phone as she climbed into her car. Her finger hovered over the answer button. She could not rule out the possibility that the killer was on her tracks. She answered, breathing a terse ‘yes?’ down the line. It was ten p.m. This was not the time for pleasantries.

  ‘Where are you? We need to talk.’

  Ruby did not see the point in taking Nathan’s calls. He had made his feelings perfectly clear during their last meeting. ‘I don’t have time for this, I’m in a hurry.’

  Nathan replied flatly as if she had never spoken at all. ‘You’re wrong about Cathy. I’ve spoken to her about the movie. She’s no murderer. So don’t come looking for her.’

  ‘I know. And I’d like to point out that you’re the one calling me. So why don’t you let me get on with finding the real killer?’ Ruby took a breath to accommodate the words erupting in her throat. ‘And you can tell our daughter, if she is our daughter, that she can come and find me as soon as she’s seeing sense. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.’ Ruby terminated the call, pushing aside her anger.

  It was pointless hoping for a reunion. Nathan, Frances and Lenny had made it quite clear that it was over. She had been silly to think things would work out any differently. As for her daughter? Trust had to be earned in the Crosby family. Nathan may have readily taken Cathy in, but when his mother Frances got over her shock she would not waste any time in having a DNA test completed. Ruby turned the ignition of her car. She couldn’t think about that now, not while a little girl’s life was hanging by a thread.

  * * *

  The closer Ruby came to her suspect’s home the more she doubted herself. She thought about ringing Downes to voice her suspicions. But that’s all they were: suspicions. What if she was so desperate to find the killer that she was plucking suspects out of the air? But a work colleague? Would they really be capable of such horrific acts? The idea seemed ludicrous, and the last thing she wanted was to be made a laughing stock. She pressed down her indicator; her mouth dry as she approached their home. She was just going to talk to them, get some feelers out there. A quick call wouldn’t look out of place given they were so heavily involved in the case. But as she parked outside the address she had almost persuaded herself that she was wrong. What would the others say if they could see her now? Surely this was not the home of a murderer. She must have been mistaken. But killers took many guises. Far removed from the bogeyman, or horror movie villains. Many were people you wouldn’t look twice at on the street.

  She pressed hard on the doorbell, the shrill ring drilling into her brain. Ruby was tired. She hadn’t eaten in hours and sleep was just a memory. Every day she hated her flat a little bit more. Would there be another letter waiting for her when she got back? The thoughts of going home alone made her flesh creep.

  The door opened, cutting into her thoughts. In front of her stood Christopher Douglas, the forensic pathologist.

  ‘Ruby,’ he said, his eyebrows raised. ‘What are you doing here at this hour?’

  ‘I was passing and… ’ Ruby sighed, ‘actually that’s a lie. I came here because I need some advice. Can I come in?’

  Chris paused at the door; his features clinging to a smile that did not reach his eyes. ‘What am I like? Of course, come inside.’

  Steady, Ruby told herself. He was surprised to see her that’s all. Being shifty was not a prelude to guilt. It certainly was not enough to gain access via a warrant, which was what was needed to search his house. Such an old building was bound to have lots of hiding places. She sniffed the air as she entered the hall. Isopropanol. The smell of the morgue.

  Chris turned to catch her eye as he led her inside. ‘Excuse the smell. I’ve been looking after the neighbour’s cat. She’s been shitting everywhere except where she’s supposed to. I brought home a couple of bottles of disinfectant from work. You won’t tell on me, will you?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Ruby said. ‘Gone back now, has she?’

  ‘She’s at the vets. Stomach problems. They’re keeping her overnight. Can I make you a tea? Coffee?’

  ‘A cup of tea would be lovely,’ Ruby said, her senses on high alert. She had smelt enough decomposing bodies to believe he was lying through his teeth about the cat.

  Two flowery teacups were placed on the table in the living room, where Chris insisted they sit.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, wishing she had not set her phone to silent. Her unease was growing by the second. She shouldn’t have come here. If he had the slightest suspicion the police were onto him, all evidence would be destroyed.

  ‘Biscuit?’ Chris said, pouring the milk.

  ‘Oh go on then,’ Ruby said, although her stomach was churning.

  The second his back was turned she swapped the cups of tea. It seemed silly, suspecting her colleague of poisoning a harmless drink, but the minute she had entered the hall he had become someone else. Ruby took a sip, smiling at Chris as he took a seat across from her. But her stomach was doing butterflies, and she forced herself to nibble on the ginger snap as he watched.

  ‘So what brings you to my humble abode?’ Chris said, sitting bolt upright in the chair. He looked ready to jump up at any second, and his jitteriness was catching.

  ‘Sorry, just let me check my phone,’ Ruby said, turning on the sound. No calls. She frowned before returning her attention to Chris. Her mind was racing as she tried to formulate a reason for her visit. ‘It’s Worrow. I was hoping for some advice, but it’s a sensitive issue,’ she said. ‘You’re friends, right?’

  Chris nodded slowly. ‘Sounds ominous. Well, I can assure you, anything you have to say won’t go beyond these four walls.’

  ‘I know.’ She took a mouthful of tea to ease the dryness in her throat. ‘It’s just that I overheard her having a heated phone conversation the other day. She mentioned her job being compromised. I’m worried something’s wrong.’

  ‘Why didn’t you ask her?’

  ‘It’s not my place. Besides, I got the feeling she was trying to distance herself from whatever mess her friend was in.’ Ruby swallowed back another m
outhful of tea. ‘I dunno, I’ve been thinking of asking her about it, but I don’t want her to take me up the wrong way.’

  ‘In my opinion, if you’ve something to say you’re best off not pussyfooting around. You never struck me as a game player, Ruby. Why start now?’

  Ruby fell silent. His words were leaden, delivered with a double meaning she could not ignore. He knew she was onto him. She raised her hands in mock surrender. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. I came here with every intention of being upfront with you. I know it was you on the phone.’

  Chris gave two slow nods of the head. ‘So you’ve been snooping in on our private conversations. And the real reason for your visit is?’

  ‘To offer my help, of course. It was just the once, but you both seemed really stressed. I promise it won’t go any further if you need to talk,’ Ruby added.

  Chris crossed his legs, squirming in his seat. ‘I’ve had some unexpected outlays, but it’s under control now. So you can bury that little problem. It won’t raise its head again.’

  Ruby was well aware of his finances. Chris was in debt for a considerable amount of money, and it had come on suddenly, plunging his credit record from full health to being in the red.

  ‘Thanks, Chris, I didn’t mean to pry.’ Ruby glanced at her watch. ‘Gosh, look at the time, I’d best be off.’ She wobbled as she stood, blinking at the pinpricks of white lights which dotted her vision. The adrenalin rush that flowed through her veins had come to a halt, making her feel out of kilter. She glanced around the messy room, taking a breath to regain her strength. ‘This is a nice big house. Have you lived here long?’

  ‘Oh yes, quite a few years. I was very fortunate to inherit it. I could sell it for a packet and live a bit further out, but I’m attached to the old place. It’s got a bomb shelter you know; I even found bits of memorabilia down there.’

 

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