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

by Caroline Mitchell

  ‘Really?’ Ruby said, knowing she should leave while she could. But she needed to have a nose around while she still had the chance. ‘Mind if I use your bathroom?’ she said, trying to shake off the feeling that Chris was onto her.

  Chris smiled, a slow narrow-lipped grin. ‘Would you like to see it? The bomb shelter that is,’ he said, walking with her. ‘I’ll show you the bathroom on the way out.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Ruby said, taking a wobbly step forward.

  ‘Steady, are you OK? You’ve gone a funny colour.’

  ‘I’ve not eaten much today. I’ll be OK,’ Ruby said, following him out to the hall. ‘So you’ve got a bomb shelter, eh? That’s pretty cool.’

  ‘Yes, it is: good for storage, gardening tools. Handy for all sorts of things really.’ Walking to the cupboard under the stairs, he opened the door, then pulled back a rug to reveal a trapdoor underneath. ‘Here it is,’ he said as the door to an underground chamber gaped open. Ruby peered into the darkness, wrinkling her nose as the pungent smell rose up to greet her. The liberal coating of disinfectant in the hall was no match for the overpowering stench from below.

  ‘Go on then,’ he said, gesturing for her to go first. ‘You wanted to see it, didn’t you?’

  Ruby peered in. She should go down, and if enough evidence was gained she might be able to arrest him. But every fibre of her being was screaming at her not to do it. There was no way she was turning her back on Chris, who was now carrying a maddening look in his eyes. ‘You go first,’ Ruby said. ‘It’s a bit too dark for me, don’t want to fall arse over tit.’

  ‘No,’ Chris said. ‘I insist, you first. It’s what you came here for, isn’t it?’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Ruby said, unease creeping up her spine like a long-legged spider.

  ‘Come off it, Ruby, you really think I’m buying that lame story about Worrow? As if you’d come all this way just to talk about a stupid phone call. I know why you’re here.’

  ‘Chris, I don’t… ’

  ‘You saw, didn’t you? The dirt on Monica’s feet. You noticed it at the scene when you looked under the duvet. I had a feeling you did.’

  There was no going back from that admission. Ruby nodded. She didn’t want her colleague to be under suspicion for murder. She didn’t want any of this. But the sooner she could get an admission, the quicker she could trace Sophie’s location. ‘I couldn’t understand why the post-mortems were drawing a blank. So I checked and rechecked the photos. I was going to suggest soil sample analysis, because the soles of Monica’s feet were dirty at the scene. But then when I checked the crime scene photos her feet were clean. How did you do that? I know what I saw. Emma was there taking photos when we pulled back the duvet. How did she miss it?’

  Chris folded his arms. ‘Emma was thrilled when I told her your DI had a soft spot for her. So when she followed you all out to the door I cleaned Monica’s feet with some wet wipes. When Emma came back in, she carried on taking photos. People don’t question the forensic pathologist. It’s one of the perks of the job.’

  There was one last piece of the puzzle that was not fitting in. The door-knocker killer was reported to be a woman. She had to be, to be invited into people’s homes. But Chris had displayed enough guilt to warrant an arrest. They would discuss the finer details back at the station. Straightening her posture, she recited the caution. ‘Christopher Douglas. I’m arresting you on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything… ’ A wave of nausea passed over her and she swept her hair from her face. ‘You do not have to… ’ she repeated, trying to focus on the figure before her. His image split in two and he blurred in and out of focus. Ruby swallowed, taking a step back to support herself against the wall.

  ‘Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you switch the teacups? You can’t kid a kidder, Ruby; isn’t that what you always say? Oh, and by the way, they were both laced with sedatives. It’s why I didn’t fancy mine.’ Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out two black-edged envelopes and waved them in her face. I’m playing postman today. Guess who these are for? One for you and one for Sophie. Perhaps I’ll deliver them to Jack Downes instead?’

  Jack. Ruby slipped her hand into her pocket and pressed the call button on her phone. For once, she was grateful for the push button pad, and could only pray that some kind of a call went through. She had to get out, but as the sedatives hit her system every step felt like lead.

  ‘Where’s Sophie?’ she asked, her words slurred as what felt like the world’s worst headache wrapped around her skull.

  ‘She’s safe. For now. But the question is, what are we going to do with you?’

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  ‘What do you want?’ Downes said, his eyes narrowing in distrust.

  The last person Nathan wanted to turn to for help was a copper, much less the one Ruby had taken to her bed. But the phone call he had received left him no choice, and he used the swiftest way to get the man on side as he uttered three words: ‘Ruby’s in trouble.’

  ‘How did you find my address? No, don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.’ Downes led Nathan into the living room of his two-bedroom London townhouse. It still carried the feminine touch of the wife who had passed on a year earlier. Floral patterned wallpaper, soft furnishings and a collection of Swarovski crystals in a cabinet. Hardly the décor of a bachelor pad. Nathan knew all about Downes, because he made it his business to investigate Ruby’s closest friends. The two men eyed each other warily as Nathan dipped his hand into the pocket of his black combat trousers. Not his usual weekend attire, but the concealed pockets were effective for carrying weapons and he had a feeling that he might need them.

  ‘I got a voicemail from Ruby. Listen.’ Ruby’s muffled voice came into life as Nathan pressed the speaker button on his phone. He had listened to it three times now, and the slur in her voice set him on edge.

  ‘Where’s Sophie?’ A rustling noise ensued. Phone against cloth. Or a pocket, Nathan thought.

  A voice responded. ‘She’s here. Would you like to meet her?’ Downes frowned as they leaned into the phone. Nathan caught his expression and mouthed, ‘who?’

  Downes pushed his finger against his lips as the conversation continued.

  ‘Why, Chris, why did you kill those women?’

  Nathan tensed as he caught a glint of recognition in Downes’s eye. He wanted to get going, but he didn’t know who Chris was. Was it a male or female name? It was impossible to tell. The conversation continued as Chris spoke in a taut voice.

  ‘It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s over. Now down you go like a good girl; it’s OK, you’ll have company.’

  ‘I’m not going down there,’ Ruby replied before the phone went dead.

  ‘Where’s Ruby?’ Nathan said. ‘And who the hell is Chris?’

  ‘Chris Douglas, by the sounds of it. He’s our forensic pathologist. I wondered what Ruby was up to when she requested that credit check.’ Downes rubbed the stubble on his chin. ‘But how? All this time we thought it was a woman… ’ Lacing his shoes, he craned his neck up at Nathan. ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘You’ve had a drink,’ Nathan said, eyeing the half-empty decanter of whiskey on the coffee table before him. He would have gladly left without him, but he needed Chris’s location. Nathan gave him a wry glance. ‘We’ll get there quicker in my car.’ Downes did not argue. Nathan’s Mercedes SL 400 was far superior to Downes’s Ford and having a detective inspector in the front seat would negate any police stops along the way. It would not do his street cred any good, but Nathan was beyond the point of caring.

  All he wanted right now was to find Ruby. And if he could trace the location of the missing child, then all the better. But as he tore up the streets he had a feeling it would not end well.

  The car purred under pressure, attracting admiring glances from pedestrians as the grey metallic paintwork gleamed under the grimy street lights.

  ‘When did you last see her?’ Nathan said, flipping on the wipers t
o negate the shower of rain.

  ‘A couple of hours ago,’ Downes replied, ‘at work,’ he hastily added. ‘But she’s been getting death notes addressed specifically to her.’

  ‘Shit,’ Nathan said, his voice softening. ‘Ruby… we have a daughter together. She thought she was to blame. But when I last spoke to Ruby she said she was on someone else’s trail.’

  ‘I know,’ Downes said.

  ‘You know?’ Nathan repeated, his eyes fixed on the road. It added a new layer to their friendship. Ruby rarely confided in anyone, unless she was at a low ebb. So either Downes and Ruby were getting closer, or she was in a bad place.

  ‘I was digging into local adoption records so she knew I’d find out anyway,’ Downes said, easing Nathan’s concerns. ‘She was getting emails. She thought Lucy was stalking her.’

  His daughter had admitted to Nathan that she had rung Ruby once and visited Joy in the care home, just to say hello. Oakwood’s address had been provided by Lenny: an effort to stir the pot. But further probing revealed that that was as far as it went, and no emails had been exchanged.

  ‘And now she’s been drugged by some psycho posing as our daughter. Fuck it!’ Nathan said, smacking the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. ‘All these years I’ve been keeping an eye on her and the moment I step back this happens.’ He jabbed a finger at Downes, taking him by surprise as fury raged in his eyes. ‘You were meant to be looking after her. Where were you tonight? She’s being stalked by a nutter and you let her find her own way home?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that. She said she was working late. She was meant to get a taxi.’

  Nathan returned his gaze to the road. ‘You should never have left her alone. You’re all the same you lot, no loyalty. Well, let me tell you, if anything happens to her… ’

  ‘Ruby’s not an ornament that you put aside to look at. She’s her own woman.’ Downes turned his attention back to his phone as units called to say they were en route.

  ‘ETA in five minutes, that means… ’ Downes said.

  ‘I know what ETA means.’ Silence fell between them as Nathan navigated the road.

  Downes frowned, lowering his window to take in some air. ‘Your family have caused Ruby nothing but grief. I know what you and your brother have been getting up to. The sooner he goes back to prison, the happier I’ll be.’

  ‘Don’t give me that,’ Nathan said. ‘Ruby knows the score. If we weren’t there to keep a lid on things there’d be anarchy. If my brother’s been involved in anything, it’s been restoring order upon his return.’

  ‘Is that what you call it? Restoring order? And what about Ruby? Was he restoring order when he put a knife to her throat?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘So you don’t know? Is that how you do business then? I thought you two were tight.’

  Nathan’s jaw tightened. ‘If you’ve got something to say then spill it now.’

  ‘Lenny’s got a screw loose. Ruby was going home when he pulled a knife on her in the lift. Threatened rape, by all accounts. So why don’t you look closer to home before you start lecturing me about looking after her?’

  Nathan shifted in his seat. He had no reason to disbelieve what Downes was saying. That must’ve been the night that Ruby went to the flat, and it explained why she took a knife to bed. Yet she had not told him. This was all his fault.

  ‘I wanted to have him arrested, but she wouldn’t allow it. Lenny threatened to pay her mother a visit and finish her off. Such a kind and compassionate man your brother: picking on women and the elderly. Yeah, I’d say he’s a real asset to the community.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ Nathan said, pulling up to a set of traffic lights.

  ‘Sort him out. If you won’t, we will.’

  Nathan inhaled a deep breath; his fists clenched over the steering wheel. He needed to regroup, focus on the task ahead. ‘What’s the killer’s MO?’

  Downes silently stared out the window, seemingly incapable of relinquishing the words. Finally, he cleared his throat to speak. ‘The victims have died from stab wounds, with attempts at asphyxiation. They had ligature marks on wrists and ankles. Splinters of baubles were found in Emily Edmonds’s stomach.’

  ‘What kind of weird shit is that?’

  ‘It’s the kind of weird shit we’re dealing with.’

  Nathan negotiated the traffic until the streets of Inner London melted away, bringing them to a tree-lined avenue on the outskirts of Greenwood. Thoughts spun in his head like a fairground waltzer as he tried to concentrate on the road. Why had he gone for Ruby like that when she was only doing her job? He’d come so close to giving up everything to be with her. Was he self-sabotaging because he was scared of letting her in? It was obvious Lenny was pulling his strings and had set the whole thing up. If he hadn’t got to his daughter in time… And she was his daughter. The DNA test had made that clear. She was holed up in a spa with his mum now, trying to comprehend the situation. As much as Frances proudly referred to her as a Crosby, she carried her mother’s dark features. Eyes you could fall into, never to return. Ruby. He needed her more than ever. He couldn’t do this on his own.

  ‘Turn left here,’ Downes said, his ear glued to his phone.

  Nathan recognised the houses from his estate agent’s listing. It was the same street Monica Sherwood had been discovered: one of the latest victims of the door-knocker killer. It had not taken Downes long to find out Chris Douglas’s home address and they’d arrived on par with the police units he had alerted. The strength of Nathan’s heartbeat swished in his ears as he abandoned his car to run up the driveway to Chris Douglas’s front door. The steady thump of his 9mm Glock pistol thumped against his thigh as he ran.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  A vice-like pain gripped Ruby’s forehead as she raised her head from the unforgiving floor.

  ‘Where am I?’ she said, her voice echoing in the darkness. Waking up disorientated was not unusual, but the blackness of her surroundings grew fresh fears as she failed to seek out the chink of light that spoke of home. Groaning, she struggled to rise. A wave of dread washed over her as she realised her ankles and wrists were bound. Groping in the darkness, her fingers traced the outline of woollen fringes. It was a rug. Was she in the basement of Chris’s home? She needed to think quickly in order to get her bearings.

  Sliding into a sitting up position, Ruby scooted back until she felt a bare brick wall, leaning against it long enough to ease the dizziness penetrating her brain. A dry bitter aspirin taste permeated the roof of her mouth, but the full memory of her most recent event was slow in coming. She desperately needed to regain some focus. There had to be an opening, she thought, a doorway out. A sudden breath made her heart work double time. She was not alone. ‘Who’s there?’ she said, her voice echoing against the oppressive brick walls.

  Torchlight seared her pupils and she blinked as she focused her gaze. Ruby recoiled as the memories finally returned. Chris confessing to being the killer, then admitting to drugging her tea. How long had he been sitting in the darkness with her? The figure chuckled as it watched her flounder.

  Ruby leaned against the wall, forcing herself to her feet. The room was a cavernous chamber, long and bare, with furniture cloaked in dust curtains further down. To the left was a staircase leading to a closed door. Slime laced the walls, and Ruby inhaled a fetid smell. Somewhere on the periphery the urgency of the case made itself known. Sophie. What had he done with the little girl? Ruby gained enough composure to challenge her captor. ‘The police are on their way so you’d better untie me now.’

  Another low laugh. But this time, Ruby made out a feminine lilt. She blinked in quick succession, her eyes darting around the room for a weapon. The echo of footsteps filled the hollow chamber as her captor flicked on the light overhead. It was not Chris before her, but a woman; the white smock covering her dress like a butcher’s apron was decorated in a smattering of dried blood. She stepped under the dim light bulb re
vealing her identity, and in doing so she stole the air from Ruby’s lungs.

  ‘Goldie? Is that you?’ Ruby whispered, peering around the darkened room for her accomplice.

  At least she had been spared a gag. But then why would her captor gag her when she had gone to so much trouble to reel her in?

  Goldie’s smile lacked the gold-plated teeth and the beehive hairstyle. Now, with her shaven head, hastily applied make-up and peculiar dress, she didn’t look like herself at all. ‘Hello, Ruby. Would you like to play a little game?’

  Ruby wanted to launch herself at her to pin her down and extract Sophie’s whereabouts. But she was in no position to fight; the only thing holding up her shaking legs was the firmness of the brick wall behind her. ‘Where’s Chris?’ Ruby said, seeking out Goldie’s accomplice in the darkened room.

  ‘Serving a higher purpose,’ Goldie said, still wearing a fiendish smile. ‘I thought it would be cosier with just us girls.’

  ‘And Sophie?’

  ‘Asleep.’ She tilted her head to one side as she examined her nails. ‘How is Cathy by the way?’

  ‘Cathy? Just what’s going on?’ Ruby said. If she could get answers to the smaller questions, perhaps she would get clues to the bigger ones too, such as Sophie’s location.

  ‘You’re dying to know, aren’t you?’ Goldie smiled.

  ‘You were placed in care,’ Ruby said, pre-empting her response. Just like with Anita, time was ticking, and she might not be as lucky this time. She bit the inside of her gum and was rewarded with a sting of pain that brought with it sharp focus.

  ‘Cathy and I were fostered by the same parents after her adoptive mum died. I’d forgotten all about her until she found me on Facebook and asked to meet up.’

  ‘Oh,’ Ruby said, feeling a pang of sadness. Goldie was a born liar, but that piece of information made sense. ‘That’s how you saw her birth certificate, wasn’t it? How you knew my name, and the time of birth.’ She knew by the glint in Goldie’s eyes that she had been responsible for the death notes, as well as the murders.