ROAD TO NOWHERE : DCI MILLER 3: Another Manchester Crime Thriller With A Killer Twist

by Steven Suttie

  On top of the grief, the trauma and disbelief of losing her husband, her soul-mate, she also felt embarrassed and ashamed about the things that they were saying about Jason. Rebecca Knight was a woman in complete turmoil, and she needed some space, some breathing space where she could try and come to terms with the absolutely unimaginable horrors of this past week, in her own time, in her own way. The kindness from Rebecca’s good natured, caring family was really grating on her. She felt trapped, imprisoned, and paranoid that everybody was watching her every move, analysing and discussing every facial expression she made. Every smile, every frown, every tear that dropped felt as though it was being scrutinised under a microscope.

  Rebecca Knight felt as though she’d been sectioned. It really felt that it was time to go home, and she had spent the entire day trying to pluck up the courage to tell her well-meaning loved ones that she wanted to go home. Alone. The kids could stay at Dominic’s for tonight, maybe tomorrow night too. Rebecca just wanted to curl up in her own bed. Her’s and Jason’s bed. She just wanted a big glass of wine and total, complete silence.

  “Mum, listen. I don’t want an argument. But I need to go home.”

  It hadn’t been as hard to say as she’d imagined. Her mum, and her sisters were great about it. Rebecca actually thought that she saw a flicker of relief cross her mum’s face. A deep, dark and candid discussion took place, and Rebecca explained her position in as polite and as friendly a way as she could.

  “You can go home, once you’ve had your tea with the rest of us. Please love, let me see you eat something.” Rebecca’s mum was worried sick about her daughter, naturally. Rebecca nodded. If that was all she needed to do to get her freedom, then she would try and force some food down her throat. Whether it would stay inside her for very long was another matter altogether.

  Soon after tea, Rebecca’s elder sister Georgina started gathering her little sister’s bits and pieces together. It was time to go home. The stabilisers were coming off, and the prospect filled Rebecca Knight with equal measures of dread, and relief. She desperately craved some time alone, but also wondered if she would be okay. There was only one way to find out, she considered, as she hugged her mum, and her other sister Yvonne, before heading out to Georgina’s car. There were many tears as Rebecca headed home, in the car that Georgina was driving, and also in the house where Rebecca had enjoyed a very happy childhood, and had just spent the worst three days of her life.

  Rebecca arrived home, and was quite surprised to see that all the flowers were gone. It upset her. She’d been looking forward to seeing the tributes, reading the cards, finding out what people thought about her husband, before, well… Before all this other stuff had been discovered.

  It hit Rebecca hard, as Georgina pulled up outside the house, the car headlamps illuminating the front of the house, and the drive. There was nothing there. Not a single flower, or a card. Rebecca’s mum had shown her a photograph on the BBC website, and the whole front of the house was covered in tributes. They were all gone now.

  “Where’s?” Rebecca stopped talking, as the answer to the question that she was about to ask became obvious to her. Rebecca started sobbing, and Georgina was unsure of what to do, what to say. She pulled the car’s hand brake on, and left the engine running. This was bizarre. Georgina didn’t want to say anything. They’d turned the television off yesterday, and it hadn’t been on again. Not since they’d started saying all these things about Jason.

  But this? This was a bit extreme, wasn’t it? Why couldn’t they have just left Jason’s tributes there. Not everybody hated him - that much was obvious from the amount of people that had paid their respects. Rebecca’s head was in a spin. She was making herself angry, just thinking about it. Feeling angry was good though, it certainly beat the numb feeling.

  “Right, anyway. I’m not getting stressed out tonight. No way. I’m not.”

  Georgina was unsure of what to do. She desperately wanted to put the car in reverse, ease up the clutch, and take Rebecca back to mum’s. But she knew that it wasn’t her decision. It was up to Rebecca.

  “I’m thinking…”

  “I know what you’re thinking George. But I’m fine. Honestly. I’m… I’ll be fine. I won’t be if I stay at mum’s any longer. If she does that “awwww” noise one more time, I’ll strangle her.”

  Georgina laughed, quite loudly. She knew the noise

  that Rebecca was talking about. “Bless her. She probably isn’t aware that she’s even doing it!”

  “No, she isn’t. She means well, going “awwww” every time she looks at me. But I’ll still kill her!”

  Georgina laughed again. Then there was a dramatic, heavy silence. Rebecca broke it, by unclipping her seatbelt and opening the passenger door.

  “Right, I’d best make a move. Thanks for everything!” Rebecca leaned over to kiss her sister’s cheek. Georgina embraced her.

  “Can I come in? Just for a bit.”

  “No… George, honestly. I just want… I just need to be on my own. Please don’t be offended. It’s not your B.O.”

  Georgina laughed again, her hand flew up to her mouth. Rebecca really did have a gift for putting others at ease with her daft comments and her sarcastic, acerbic sense of humour. Even under these circumstances. “No, seriously, George, thank you so much. I’m really grateful that you want to stay with me. I’d want to run a mile if it was you who’d just lost Brett. Honestly. That’s why you’re my favourite sibling. Love ya.” Rebecca leaned in again, and hugged Georgina tightly.

  After getting out of the car, and grabbing her two small bags from the boot, Rebecca opened the front door, placed her bags inside, and switched on the light. It lit up the hall and the stairs, and the light came flooding out, illuminating the drive. It felt a bit more homely now. Rebecca stood at the door and waved as she watched Georgina put the car into reverse, and her wheels started crunching loudly on the chippings on the drive. Georgina stopped reversing after a couple of feet, and rolled down the window. She gestured Rebecca over to the car.

  “I forgot to say, mum gave me this to give you.” Rebecca walked slowly across the drive, and leaned down at the window, completely obscuring Georgina’s view of the front door. As Georgina handed her sister an envelope, neither of the two women spotted the shadowy figure that had crept along the side of the house, and then darted into the house through the front door. It had all happened so quick, in the brief few seconds that Rebecca’s back was turned.

  “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “I thought I heard something?”

  “Like what?”

  “Oh, nowt. I’m losing it. Right, anyway, I’ll go.”

  “Seeya, and drive safely. Love ya.”

  “Love you too. I’ll text you when I get home.”

  Rebecca waved as Georgina reversed out onto the road, and headed off, back towards Farnworth, where she would no doubt have to report back, and give a full and detailed description of every facial expression that was made on the way here, and provide an in-depth breakdown of all conversation topics discussed, thought Rebecca. She stopped waving as soon as the car was out of sight, and went inside the house. She closed the door, and enjoyed the moment of relief, rejoicing in the fact that she was finally alone, the world was finally locked out. Rebecca Knight hadn’t been completely alone since the night that she’d phoned the police, to report Jason missing. This feeling of solitary isolation had been craved for. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the front door. Rebecca now felt that she could be herself, finally, just let it all hang out, not trying to be brave or courageous or strong. It was finally time to start the grieving process, and all that she needed to do was pour a ridiculously large helping of red wine, put hers and Jason’s favourite CD on, and just cuddle up to herself on the sofa and get completely rat-arse pissed and cry and sob and groan and laugh and howl until she had nothing left. That was the plan, anyway.

  But when Rebecca Knight opened her eyes, she wa
s in for a bowel shuddering, mind numbing shock.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “Alright? Don’t do anything mad. Don’t scream or owt.” There was a man standing in Rebecca Knight’s hall way, staring straight at her. He was holding a big hunting knife, the kind they have in corny action films. His other hand was stretched out in front of him. He had dried blood all up his sleeves. Rebecca had never seen a knife like this one before. She’d never seen this man before. Or had she? Oh shit. Was this? It was, this… it was Peter Meyer. This was the sick bastard that killed Jason.

  Rebecca Knight’s mind was racing, her head was spinning, and she realised that she was making a strange, involuntary squeaking noise, but she was saying “pleeease.” Her heart beat was banging in her chest, and in her throat, it was so loud, it was deafening her. Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” The man actually looked quite nice, quite trustworthy. He was scruffy though, he looked like he’d been living in a bush or something, he was filthy. Rebecca was scared, scared like she had never been before, not ever. She felt a hot, stinging sensation filling her jeans. She’d wet herself, and it was burning her legs. That was all she could feel, a hot, burning, itchy feeling on her skin.

  “Ammmmmmmmm,” she said, humming to try and calm herself down. The man was staring at her, he looked like he was confused, he didn’t seem to know what he was doing, or what he should do now.

  “It’s alright. Seriously, it’s alright.”

  Rebecca Knight was terrified, she was struggling to deal with this completely extraordinary turn of events. A strange man, in her home, the man who had abducted, then killed her husband, standing in front of her with a massive knife that looked like it was for killing bears or something. If that wasn’t mind-blowing enough, he was telling her that everything’s alright. And she’d just pissed her pants as well. She wanted to laugh, just a sarcastic, bitter scoff would have done it, but she couldn’t do anything. She was frozen to the spot. She was completely paralysed with fear, except for her jaw -which was trembling noticeably.

  “Are you…?”

  “What?”

  “Are you the man…”

  “The man who took Jason? Yes.” He didn’t smile, didn’t gloat. He didn’t seem to be scoring any points. He looked completely neutral about it, as though he was saying that he’d caught the twenty-six bus here.

  “And now… what, you want to kill me, is that it?” Rebecca’s jaw was vibrating, she was shaking so much. But she was gaining in confidence, as the initial shock of the situation began to fade, and fresh, raw anger began to take over.

  “No, no of course I don’t. You’ve not done anything to me. I’ve come here to say something, wanted to explain to you, in person.”

  Rebecca managed to laugh manically. It sounded fake, and forced, and very much like a heckle, but that was kind of the point. Peter Meyer just looked at her, he had a sympathetic expression on his face. It was almost as though he pitied her.

  Rebecca was still leaning against the front door. She pushed herself away from it, and realised that her jeans were completely saturated, and the wee was starting to cool, very quickly. She began walking towards Meyer, and he looked nervous.

  “Okay, thanks. I appreciate you doing that. I accept your apology or whatever. Now can you just go the fuck away? Really?” Rebecca’s voice was getting louder with each word. She was walking strangely, because of the weight of her jeans. But she was keeping eye contact, and she was leaving the un-invited knife-wielding mad man under no illusion that she wasn’t in the mood for this.

  “Listen, I need to…”

  There was a knock at the front door.

  Ding Dong. The doorbell was being pressed as well, in quick succession. Another knock followed. It was a friendly, familiar knock, it was somebody close to Rebecca. A neighbour, a friend. The mad man looked scared.

  “Rebecca, are you in? I saw you were home.” It was Kath from next door-but-one. She lifted the letterbox. “Becs?” The neighbour couldn’t see anything, the letterbox was filled with draft-excluder brushes. “Becs… It’s Kath. Are you alright?”

  Peter Meyer was staring at Rebecca Knight, holding his finger up to his lip. His eyes were begging, rather than ordering. The look of panic in his face empowered Rebecca, and she turned and began walking backwards, back towards the door. She reached out to open the front door. Her fingers were struggling with the lock as she started shouting at the door. “Kath, I’m being held host…”

  THUD.

  Meyer had shoved Rebecca into the door and he had his hand over her mouth, before she could say another word. She tried to bite his hand, but she couldn’t, his grip was too strong. She could only taste dirt, something foul. This man absolutely stunk, she thought, as she fell to the ground, under the force of this awful bloke. Meyer fell on top of her, his knee landed in the side of her back, and she cried out in pain, Meyer’s hand did little to stifle the sound of agony, as Rebecca wondered if her ribs had just been broken beneath the weight of him. “Get off me, you fucking… get off me. Kath! Get help, KATH!”

  Both Rebecca and Meyer heard the unmistakable sound of the letterbox slamming shut, and then Kath’s feet running rapidly over the stone chips on the drive-way.

  “You daft bastard!” said Meyer, he was furious. His gentle, timid manner was gone now. He got to his feet and started dragging Rebecca along the laminate floor by her leg. The massive knife was still in his other hand, but Rebecca seemed oblivious to it. She was wriggling and fighting, kicking out, desperately trying to shake her attacker off.

  “Get! Off! Me!” The energy that Rebecca had, the power in her struggling was too much for Meyer. He was having a hard time keeping hold of her, and he let go as she kicked him in the leg. “You sick fuck!” she hissed as she tried to get to her feet. Meyer was out of breath, that brief wrestle had completely worn him out, and the realisation made Rebecca Knight feel even more confident, and even more determined to beat this fucking freak. She turned and headed once again for the front door, slipping on her own puddle, and falling to the ground again. She quickly scrambled back up, still spirited to get to that door. Still determined to get through it, and to get as far away from this lunatic as she possibly could.

  But Peter Meyer was not prepared to be beaten. There was far too much at stake. He simply couldn’t lose this battle, and so, if he had to get nasty, if he had to be vicious, then so be it. There was absolutely no alternative. Meyer walked quickly towards her with the knife on full display in front of him. “Do that again, and I’ll stab you in the stomach with this. Right?” Meyer grabbed at Rebecca’s hair and dragged her head to his chest with all of his strength. She screamed out in pain, and that familiar smell, that weird, musty, rotting smell was stinging her nostrils. And then, things really started to get serious. Rebecca’s hair was pulled again, her head was being yanked away from the man’s chest, and she could feel a hard, solid object pushed firmly against her throat. A cold, hard piece of metal was pressed right over her voice-box. It made her gulp, and the gulp was difficult and painful.

  “There was no need for that. But, if you want to be a dick about it, I’ll be a dick as well. Now listen to me, right? One turn of this knife and your whole throat will explode, right? You’ll be dead in seconds. It’ll look like that big massive waterfall in North Wales in here, but red. Now if you just simmer down, and stop being a weirdo, I’ll not twist it. Right?”

  Rebecca didn’t have a clue how to respond to that. She couldn’t nod, in case it made the knife blade dig into her throat. She didn’t want to risk speaking. She just made a very quiet “yaah” noise through her teeth.

  “Right, that’s better. Okay, so we need to go to the front window, yeah? We need the light on, so when we walk through that door there, you put the big light on. Right?” Meyer started walking, shuffling backwards towards the door that was half open. He pushed it with his bum, forcing the door to open fully. Rebecca grabbed the light switch and turned i
t on, spinning the dimmer switch to full. “Nice one. Right, over to the window, grab that chair. Can you see it?” Meyer was trying to nod in the direction of a high-backed dining chair, Rebecca was crying, the tears were sliding down her cheeks, and she felt beyond scared now. That blade at her throat was terrifying her, mainly because she could quite clearly see, and hear, that this man was insane. He’d lost it, and that fact made her feel so much more vulnerable and scared.

  “Right, pull that chair to the middle of the window. Right, nice one, now pull the blinds open, fully open so everyone can see in. Perfect. Right, sit down now on that chair, and don’t try and do nothing stupid or this knife will burst your throat open like a bag of sausages.”

  *****

  “DAVE! DAVE!”

  The front door slammed shut, and Dave practically jumped out of his skin.

  “Wha…”

  “Dave, shit, something’s going on at Rebecca’s.” His wife, Kath was out of breath, she looked terrified. He’d never seen her looking so frightened, and she wasn’t one for making a drama.

  “Wha…” He jumped up off the settee and began walking towards his wife. He looked scared himself.

  “It sounds like somebody’s attacking her. Come on!”

  “Well, what, have you rung the police?”

  “I’m doing it now, come on!”

  Dave ran into the hall, he was in a panic, looking for his shoes, whilst Kath was trying to hit the right buttons on her smart-phone. “Shit!” she said, under her breath. “Dave, come on!” She opened the front door and the family dog, Barney started barking, he wasn’t comfortable with the stress on his owners faces. “Shush Barney, shush!”

  Within moments, Kath was talking frantically to the police operator while Dave was running around to Jason and Rebecca’s house, just one house away from his own on the busy main road. He was clutching a hammer that he’d grabbed from his tool box. His intention was to bang on the door and force his way in. He wasn’t a fighting man, not by any means, and he was scared, and confused - but Dave was running around there with his adrenaline racing and he was prepared to face whatever lay in his path.