Perfect Stranger: A gripping psychological thriller with nail-biting suspense

by Jake Cross

  ‘Does Dad know?’

  ‘It took him a week to notice the big birthmark on your back, Julia. He has no clue. But you can tell him. Perhaps not right now. Let’s wait for the Katie news to settle. But don’t worry about his reaction, okay? You’re our daughter and whatever you want, we want for you. I’m guessing it’s this Donna friend you mentioned, right? She’s your girlfriend? You wanted to miss the anniversary party and see her, right?’

  ‘Yes. At first. But when you guys said no, I rearranged. I’m seeing her later this morning.’

  ‘I’ll drive you. Your father always said he’d vet any boys you brought home. But since it’s now girls, I’ll be taking the reins on that one.’

  ‘You want to vet her?’ Julia was surprised, but a little happy.

  ‘It’s what parents do. But try this idea. Tonight, why don’t you bring her to the party? If this lady is going to be in your life for a little while, everyone needs to meet her. Oh, don’t look so nervous. You stand in front of dozens of drunken men in nightclubs and tell dirty jokes, you’ll be fine.’

  It was a few seconds before Julia found her voice. ‘You knew about that, too?’

  ‘That one we’ll keep from your dad for a little longer. I don’t want him to bust a blood vessel with so much shock in one day. Now, come, how about we go interrupt what’s probably awkward silence between father and daughter.’

  ‘I suppose I should go hug my big sister for the first ever time.’

  Chris led Katie into the back garden. Out there, he peered across the high fences to make sure no neighbours were in their gardens.

  All clear given Katie said, ‘She knows, doesn’t she? Julia knows already. The way she was crying on the bed. Rose told her.’

  ‘Seems that way.’

  ‘Do I still call her Rose? Or…’

  ‘Let’s just stick with Rose for now.’

  ‘How do you think she’s taking it? Julia. She didn’t look happy to me.’

  ‘She just looked dumbstruck,’ Chris said as he sat at the garden table. Katie sat opposite. ‘Just as I’d expect.’

  ‘Do you plan to tell other family members about me? And friends.’

  Chris quickly outlined the situation with his sister – errant and unreliable – and his grandparents – ancient and remote. ‘But we can tell our friends. Rose wants to do it at the anniversary party tonight. Her mother will be there, but that’s all the family Rose has. How does that sound?’

  This made Katie smile. ‘You could wrap me up. Look, a special birthday present for you all.’ She lost the smile. Somewhat nervously, she dug a perfect fingernail into the wood of the table. ‘But are you sure you want me at the party?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t we?’ Chris noticed that Katie’s finger was tracing over Rose’s name. All their names were by his hand, carved there the day they bought the table. Rose, Chris, Julia. The whole family. Back then.

  ‘I just thought… I thought the invite was thanks. You know, for finding your wallet. You being nice, but deep down hoping… Maybe you didn’t want me to be your daughter. I thought you might just want me to go away now you know… now you got the wrong answer.’

  All along her seeming ease amongst the family had been bravado, he realised. A bottling-up of nerves. Katie’s shows of vulnerability often boosted Chris’s resilience, and right now was no different.

  ‘If that was the case, Katie, I would never have allowed you in the door. I would have waited for the result. But I did that because I wanted to get a head start on getting to know you, just in case.’

  ‘But was it what you wanted? If you had the choice, what result would you have picked?’

  ‘Wait here a second.’ He got up and walked quickly into the house. He was back in his chair half a minute later. With a sharp knife. Katie eyed it with a frown.

  ‘What would I have picked? It wasn’t my choice, Katie, was it? It wasn’t anyone’s choice. It was as it was. You were my daughter or you were not. I wasn’t picking a daughter, or buying a daughter, or doing anything else that could cause regret. I was waiting to find out if I had one. I have one. Now things change according to that.’

  ‘What’s going to change?’ Katie traced her fingernail across Julia’s name.

  ‘On the day I met Rose, we didn’t know each other. There were nerves, and doubt. Now she’s my soul mate and all the awkwardness of years ago is like a half-remembered dream. In fact, it’s hard to imagine I existed on this planet for nineteen years without her.’

  ‘I think I understand. You’re saying that we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘I know I wasn’t there when you were young, but think about Julia. All my memories of Julia when she was young, they’re just feelings and pictures in my head. If some scientist scanned my brain and told me most of it was dreamed, how could I know the difference? That make sense?’

  Katie nodded and dragged her finger around Julia’s J. ‘I think so. In the future, it won’t matter that you missed me as a young girl. By then you’ll know everything, and that information will be in your head. Like real memories.’

  Chris nodded. ‘I’ll think of them and it’ll be like remembering the good times.’

  ‘And the bad,’ Katie said, sitting up straight.

  ‘We’re going to get past that.’

  ‘That’s why I’m bringing it up. I’m already over it. I was reading online about something Julia mentioned. Benign Violation Theory. Have you heard of it?’

  Chris nodded. He remembered the printout he’d seen in Katie’s diary, but he wasn’t about to admit that. So he said he recalled something from some Open University programme on TV.

  ‘It’s fascinating,’ Katie said, almost gleeful. ‘Part of what those researchers were saying was that, over time, humans come to accept and are able to laugh about tragedy. It’s been years since that abuse, and I’m no longer bothered by it. Now that we know I’m your daughter, I don’t want you to dwell on that. I want you to think of that abuse as a remembered nightmare, that’s all. Like your saying, “white noise”. Just background chatter, or something I dreamed. It’s nothing, so we’ll treat it as such. Those researchers said that it takes thirty-six days to get over tragedy and be able to joke about it. Starting now, try to put it out of your mind. To accept it. Thirty-six days from now it won’t bother you, same as it doesn’t bother me.’

  Chris doubted it was all so cut and dried, but he agreed, just to get Katie off the subject. Then he put the knife on the table. Katie looked at it, then at the names scraped into the wood. Then at Chris, who gave another nod.

  Katie picked up the penknife and jabbed the blade into a spot below the bottom name, Julia’s. She started to cut a straight line. The letter ‘K’. There was a smile on her face.

  Thirty-Seven

  Katie was deepening the ‘T’ in her name when she caught a stiffening from Chris and looked round. Julia and Rose came into the garden, holding hands. In Rose’s other hand was the letter. Katie stood up. ‘Julia, I’m sorry for all the secrecy, but I—’

  There she stopped as Julia reached out to grab her in a giant hug, tearful. ‘Sister,’ she said. ‘God, that sounds so weird to say. I lied, by the way. I don’t think having a sister would be a living hell.’

  ‘I lied, too. I wasn’t at your college to find a computer course. I went there to see what my possible sister looked like.’

  They broke the hug and Rose went next, clutching Katie tightly to her. Into her ear, she whispered a warm welcome to the family. The four of them sat at the table. Rose put the letter down and tapped it. ‘We’re going to reimburse you for that, Katie. It’s a lot of money.’

  Katie shook her head. ‘The best money I ever spent.’

  The wind tried to take the letter, but the driving licence weighed it down. Noticing, Julia pulled the plastic card away and held it up. ‘It says here Katherine Jane Hugill. Is your name not Levine?’

  Katie took the licence from her and looked at each of them in turn. ‘My mother ch
anged my surname to Hugill when she realised she would be spending the rest of her life with Ron. But they never did marry, so strangely, she always remained Levine. Far as I remember, I always was Hugill. I was too young to remember anything else. But since I found out Ron wasn’t my dad, I started using Levine again. Not officially, but it’s the name I used. It didn’t feel right to stay as a Hugill, so I never told you it was my actual name. Not until today. I’ll have to officially change it back soon, I guess.’

  Julia pulled her mobile. ‘Maybe you could go for Redfern.’

  Rose said, ‘From a very young age? Didn’t you say that your mother had other boyfriends?’

  Katie glanced at Chris, for unloading information told in confidence. He couldn’t think of an excuse.

  ‘My mother and Ron split for a while when I was older. She had other boyfriends. But I don’t want to talk about that.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ Rose seemed embarrassed by her error. ‘Look, we’ll leave you two alone to chat. Julia, come on inside and help me with the washing now that Katie has magically fixed the washer.’

  Rose stood, but alone. Julia was playing on her phone.

  ‘Julia, come on.’

  Julia looked up now, grinning. The child in her was back. ‘I know how you got your scar, Katie.’

  ‘Not now,’ Rose warned her.

  ‘Trying to rescue people from a burning building.’

  ‘Julia, ceasefire,’ Chris said.

  ‘You cut your face escaping from a burning building! The story is on the Internet.’

  Katie took a long swallow of water. ‘I was going to tell you all. You deserve to know everything about me.’

  ‘No, Katie,’ Rose said, stern. ‘You don’t have to respond to Julia’s rude outburst. This is a story you can tell us when you’re ready. And when we’re ready to hear it. Which isn’t today.’

  ‘It was a Saturday night, years ago.’ Her eyes were on the table. ‘A building on an industrial estate was on fire. I saw it while walking past a parallel street, and I rushed over there. By this time the fire brigade was already there, and a mass of onlookers. The flames were high, loud, vicious. All any of us could do was watch the professionals trying to extinguish the inferno. But then we all heard what was unmistakably a scream from inside.’

  Rose leaped into Katie’s pause. ‘You really don’t have to tell us this. Not right now.’

  ‘Loads of us rushed forward, wanting to help, but at that point a large window on the first floor seemed to explode due to thermal mismatch of materials. The frame basically warped and broke the window. A number of people, myself included, were in the cascade zone. And when we heard the sound, I couldn’t help but instinctively look up.’ She touched her scar. ‘I didn’t rescue anyone, but the reporters who turned up realised a number of us had been about to enter, in response to the scream, and they painted us as heroes. Maybe the others were. I wasn’t. I failed to rescue her.’

  ‘Katie, you can stop right there.’

  ‘No,’ Julia barked. ‘Who? Who did you fail to rescue?’

  ‘Julia!’

  ‘Everybody got out except one,’ Katie said, fingering her own carved name in the wood. ‘A woman in the bathroom. Too scared to exit. Until the room literally heated up so much she had to try to flee. That was the diagnosis, after the investigation. By the time she got over her fear and knew she had to run, the doorframe had warped. The door wouldn’t open. Not until the fire brigade had broken it down long after the fire was out.’

  Silence. Katie broke it when she saw long faces. ‘Hey, it was a long time ago. I’m over it.’

  A few moments later, a new conversation had started, and smiles had returned. Chris didn’t miss the fact that Katie had witnessed a family argument, but nobody had felt embarrassment about it. Was that because they all felt Katie was no longer a guest? That she now lived here, belonged here as much as any other member of the family?

  He was surprised to find he didn’t mind that idea.

  Before Rose and Julia left for Julia’s meeting with a ‘friend’ they both hugged Katie again. Julia handed Chris the letter. Alone with Katie, Chris found the nerves creeping back. He was relieved when his phone beeped with a text message.

  ‘Just a second, got to answer this,’ he said. He got up and walked a few feet, his back to Katie, then read the message. It was an update from Lionel Parrott.

  Now the cops were saying that Louise hadn’t been attacked the previous evening. It had happened the night before, on Thursday. Because of the reporter’s story, which named Louise, the police had been forced to divulge information a little quicker than they would have liked. They’d released Louise’s boyfriend: no charge, cast-iron alibi for the attack period. In proud capital letters, Lionel reckoned there could be two serial killers out there.

  SO COOL. Oh, and don’t forget the milk.

  ‘Louise,’ Katie said.

  Chris jumped and the letter slipped from his grasp. The wind took it into foliage at the back of the garden.

  Katie was right behind him, staring over his shoulder. ‘Was that who you went to see? Late on Thursday night?’

  Chris put his phone away and took a step away from her. He gave a long pause before he answered. ‘Yes. She must have been attacked later that night.’

  Katie glanced back, as if to make sure they were alone. ‘The day of that argument. When she threatened you.’

  ‘I didn’t speak to her. I didn’t even go to her house. I just sat outside in the car. What are you trying to say, Katie?’

  ‘I’m your daughter. Dad. I can help you.’

  Now Chris glanced around to make sure nobody could overhear. ‘Help with what?’

  ‘This must be a scary time for you.’

  ‘Scary? Why? I’m not sure I like your tone, Katie. What can you think I need help with? What are you trying to say?’

  She put a hand on his shoulder. ‘I understand your worry. You can’t shake the horrible thought that you might have sat outside her house, while inside dangerous men hurt her. Is that it?’

  Chris said nothing.

  ‘You didn’t know,’ Katie said. ‘Cancel the guilt. There was nothing you could have done. And even if you had gone inside, it’s not as if you could definitely have saved her. You’d probably be in the news, too. And maybe never able to read about it. This is a tragedy, and we need to get you through it. Perhaps you could read up on Benign Violation Theory?’

  ‘I don’t need help, Katie. But I need to get to work. Louise isn’t part of our lives. We should concentrate on our family.’

  Katie nodded. But her eyes were unable to meet her father’s.

  Thirty-Eight

  The police wanted people seen around the area of Louise’s home two nights ago to come forward with information. A process of elimination, they called it. Get rid of all the innocent ones until the guilty sod remained. Dog-walkers would give their tales, and taxi drivers would submit to DNA tests, and pedestrians would volunteer that they’d walked down the shops, and they’d be eliminated one by one. But not everyone would come forward. Burglars weren’t likely to admit they were out and about casing targets, for instance. Some people would need finding, including the owner of a brown Ford Mondeo seen parked on Louise’s street right around the sweet time.

  A horn snapped him out of his reverie. He was surprised to find himself parked in a bus lay-by, and a bus was waiting to pull in and pick up people who had worries no bigger than avoiding shop queues today, or to drop off people who had no police interrogations planned for the near future. He cleared the space and drove on.

  The satnav. There would be a record of all his journeys. He snatched the device out of its cradle, ready to start deleting entries, and then he tossed it onto the floor as if it was burning hot.

  ‘You can’t take two spaces.’

  He was standing by his car in the hospital car park, and a woman in a Mini was motioning at him out her window. She repeated her moan: can’t take two spaces. He r
ealised he’d parked across a dividing line. But she drove on and he left the car where it was.

  What the hell was he doing? If he deleted information from the satnav and the police got it anyway, from a server perhaps, then they’d see his actions as suspicious, as evidence of something.

  ‘Chris?’

  ‘Sorry. What?’

  ‘I said how’s the kid?’

  He seemed to have time-jumped again. Now, he was in the microbiology lab’s doorway with his coat half off, and Lionel Parrot, the MLA he would be alone with today, was staring at him.

  ‘You mean Julia or my new daughter?’

  ‘New daughter? What?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Whatever. There’s an urgent joint fluid for you. Hey, did you get milk?’

  ‘I’ll get on that joint fluid. And there’s some milk jiggers in Alan’s bottom drawer that he nicked from the canteen. Alan’s already said I’m gone at five, okay? You’ll have to stay if we get anything urgent and last minute. Five, I’m gone from here. Understand?’

  Lionel nodded. He didn’t press on the new-daughter news. Chris had considered trying his big secret out on a colleague, but as a lab rat this lab guy was all wrong. He’d either not care or paste it across social media. Chris sat at his bench and tried to get his mind off dark things.

  * * *

  The wanted man was trailing another vehicle towards the train station and Sheffield Hallam University. He’d been following the car from the house. At first, he’d kept far back to avoid being spotted, but in the city centre he knew red lights and side street injections of traffic into the main veins could thwart him in seconds, so he hugged the target car’s ass and hoped the two women inside were only paranoid about the dangers lurking ahead.

  The target car pulled into a bus lay-by between the Wagon Bistro and the Coachlight Bar, and the target got out of the passenger side. Dark hair, tall. And matching the picture he’d seen on her Facebook profile. Julia Redfern. The train station was a hundred metres away, but there was nowhere legal to park down there. He pulled in in front of Julia’s car, which was a bad idea because she would have to walk past his vehicle and might see him. Bad if this all went wrong and she was alive to identify him.