ONE STEP AHEAD: detectives hunt a serial killer who knows all their moves (The DCI Jeffrey Brandt Murders Trilogy Book 1)

by Denver Murphy

  As she waited in the platform’s sheltered area, refusing to while away the tedium by starting her magazine, it wasn’t for the first time she mused that the term Abbey Flyer could be considered false advertising given the near fifty-minute wait between trains. Lily now wished she had run earlier and risked the twisted ankle her shoes posed. Many of her fellow commuters wore trainers, with their smart footwear poking out of their bag waiting to be swapped at work. Lily came from the mind-set that trainers were for sporty pursuits and, although she owned a pair, a barely used example purchased to coincide with an ill-fated gym membership, donning shoes that so obviously clashed with the rest of her clothes was against her better nature.

  Knocking up a quick stir-fry would see her in front of MasterChef far quicker than waiting for a packet meal to heat up in the oven. With thoughts of supper firmly in her mind, she noticed that some of the other passengers had started moving outside in anticipation of the train’s arrival. Keen as Lily was to get a seat, despite the relatively short sixteen-minute journey, she moved to the back of the platform. She knew the front of the train would be less busy and she had unconsciously balanced out the risk of not gaining a seat, and thus being unable to rest her weary feet, with being more susceptible to suffering the effects of a head-on collision or derailment.

  With the sun setting on her journey which, not only had seen her sit down but also remain without someone neighbouring her, it was decidedly gloomy as she exited the train. It also seemed much cooler now and she buttoned up her coat to keep out the chill. St. Albans Abbey Station was little more than a platform at the end of a gravel car park, in stark contrast to the sprawl of platforms at Watford Junction and even St. Albans’ main station on the other side of town. With only four coaches, the number of people also getting off were relatively few and, as Lily started to get left behind, her progress slowed by the uneven ground, she did wonder whether she would eventually have to relax her stance on footwear.

  She came out of the station and turned right onto the slight incline which would soon become the steep Holywell Hill. At the second junction she headed into a narrow side street and, further down, she could already see her window box jutting out from the front of her bedroom window. This was always the sign for her to start rummaging in her handbag for her keys. It was merely out of habit but, on a cold evening such as this, it would also serve to allow her into the warmth of her house with minimal delay.

  She already had the key selected and pointing forward, ten yards before reaching her property. With it now inserted, she twisted the lock and the door released with a squeak from the top where the wood was slightly too large for the frame.

  Although she wasn’t aware of anyone else in the street, it didn’t surprise her when she heard a voice. Seemingly these days there was always one courier or another delivering something; if not addressed to her then requesting she accept it on behalf of a neighbour.

  ‘Yes, is it for…?’ The words died in Lily’s throat.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  It was fortunate that Brandt considered himself a patient man because events hadn’t gone as smoothly as planned. Having arrived at his destination early, through wanting to clear Westminster Lodge and all its negativity quickly, he had perched on one of the benches outside the Duke of Marlborough pub, which sat across the road from the station. From here he would be able to see when the passengers disembarked, and it would provide him with plenty of time to cross over and pick his target.

  When the train arrived, he was pleased to see that there were a number of potential candidates, and it was just a matter of using his instincts to select the right one. Of the eight he spotted, two made their way back to their own cars, one was being picked up, and a further two were waiting for taxis. That left just three. One was more casually dressed than the other two but, as far as Brandt was concerned, all were viable. He hesitated a moment when the group split, with two heading right, one of them the casual woman, and the other heading left. Although selecting the pair would keep Brandt’s options open, he went for the lone woman because she was walking away from the town centre. This meant she was far less likely to be stopping off somewhere before going home.

  Satisfied he had made the right decision, and with his hands in his pockets, he followed at a discreet distance. If luck was with him, she would live alone but whilst Brandt would rather avoid the complication brought on by others, he had no doubt he could deal with the situation. Through surprise and sudden, overwhelming force he would knock down the woman to allow him to deal with the unwelcome addition quickly and decisively. Ironically, he thought to himself, not dissimilar to when the police storm a location.

  Therefore, it was with mixed feelings that Brandt observed the woman pass the entrance to the luxury apartments and carry on. A flat would have meant she was more likely to live alone but, instead, would provide other complications. Her next move was left, onto the main road that led to some retail outlets on one side and a supermarket on the other. Given the size of the store, he would get plenty of warning if she were electing to go there, and he would hang well back and look to pick her up again when she exited.

  Believing fortune to continue to be with him, he was pleased to see that the woman quickly crossed to the other side of the road and, ignoring the shops, headed up a residential street. These were semi-detached 1970s built houses with their ugly white PVC front panels. Switching to the other pavement, he knew that she must either be nearing her house or looking for another turn off. His preference would be the latter because the road was a little busy for his liking, but the sun was well behind the buildings now and the light was murky.

  The properties technically possessed front gardens, but most people had elected to pave or gravel over them, either to make them easier to maintain or to provide additional off-street parking. As the woman turned into one of these, Brandt was not alarmed by the house having lights on inside. These days most people were wise enough to use timers and it made sense for them to be active now, especially as they were still likely to be on their winter settings.

  It was with annoyance he observed that this particular front garden had been gravelled, but the upside was the absence of a car. His move would have to be quick because his footsteps would be audible. He was poised and ready, when something made him hesitate. He noticed a flicker. As he looked directly into the sitting room window, he heard the faint sound of the key being inserted into the lock. He was wasting time; missing his opportunity. There it was again; that flicker. Instantly it registered that it must be a screen of some sort, most likely a television. Brandt could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Do it, DO IT! But his legs were frozen with indecision. As he looked back towards the woman, he saw the door was wide open. If he didn’t go now, this very instant, she would have sufficient time to hear him charging up the path and be able to slam the door behind her.

  He carried on walking up the road. In total he must have been stationary for only a few seconds and he pulled out his phone to give the impression, should anyone have observed his behaviour, that he had felt it vibrating in his pocket. This part of town was unfamiliar to him, but he guessed that once he made it to the top of the road, he could find a way to loop around and make his way back down to the station. A glance at his watch told him that it was fifteen minutes since the train had pulled in. That gave him a good half an hour before the next one. That should leave him plenty of time to get there and, just as importantly, calm himself down.

  Once Brandt knew he was heading in the right direction, he slowed sufficiently to avoid being at the station early. Knowing that waiting outside would be equally as unwise as going to the Duke of Marlborough for a second occasion, he needed to time it right. As he passed the block of flats again, he cursed his misjudgement when he saw the first people emerge from the station. He sped up his pace knowing that if he blew it again he would have to abandon, and devise a different plan for another time and place. Similarly, and against his judgement from earlier,
he would have to select someone heading towards town to avoid having to double back on himself. With a good fifty yards still to cover, the number of passengers exiting was beginning to thin. His brain was a whir, attempting to deal with a multitude of possible scenarios at once. As he got closer and the last trickle was leaving, the one that seemed increasingly best was to abort.

  Already turning towards the pedestrian crossing that would take him back to Verulamium Park, he noticed a lone figure stumbling slightly. A woman. However, any thoughts that she might be drunk, and what advantage that would give him, exited Brandt’s mind as her walk steadied as she started in the direction of the hill.

  He admonished himself for his previous lack of faith and swore that, if her next destination was a property, he wouldn’t chicken out, even if she arrived to a whole welcoming committee. If the worst came to the worst, he would quickly stab her whilst she was still in the doorway and take flight.

  Oh, this is good, he chuckled to himself as the woman turned into the second side road. He rounded the corner and saw that she was already reaching into her bag. All the houses were small, reducing the number of likely occupants.

  As she turned to open her door, the streetlight between them provided a clear profile of her face. Pretty, he thought, not without a little satisfaction. He was only a couple of yards away as she started to push through the entrance. He slowly withdrew the knife from his pocket.

  ‘Madam?’ Brandt called in a neutral tone, making sure that he didn’t allow the adrenaline that was coursing through his body to affect his voice too much.

  She turned instantly but without the speed of surprise. She started to respond but before she could finish her sentence, he clamped his empty hand over her mouth and used his body to push her into the house.

  Brandt needed to establish two things, and quickly. First, if there was anyone else in the property and, second, if he could get the door closed without having to gag her.

  He held the knife in front of her right eye; she flinched but didn’t try to pull away. That was a good sign. ‘If you make a noise, other than to answer my questions, I will blind you. Do you understand?’ She nodded slowly. ‘You’re not going to scream, are you?’ She shook her head, more vigorously this time.

  Brandt gradually removed his hand. Lily gasped, and he could detect the scent of coffee on her breath. He was increasingly anxious to get the door closed but knew he had to do this properly. ‘Is there anyone else here?’

  ‘No.’ He believed her; there was nothing he sensed about the place to suggest otherwise.

  ‘Is anyone going to come back?’

  She looked at him blankly. Her mouth flapping open as though she wanted to say something but didn’t know what.

  ‘Does anyone else live here?’ he growled impatiently.

  She shook her head.

  Brandt turned to shut them in, pleased to see the door had a security chain. Applying it meant that he would be warned of anyone else returning. Just a precaution but it paid to be cautious, even though he believed the woman was telling the truth.

  Facing her again in the dark hallway, he paused for a moment to consider his next steps. All his planning up to this point had concerned finding the right woman and getting to the stage where he had her alone.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Lily asked, trembling. Brandt found it amusing that she had voiced his very thoughts.

  ‘I want you to take off your coat, move slowly into the sitting room and draw the curtains.’ She immediately turned and, shrugging off her coat, walked through the first doorway. As with most houses in city streets, it had netting in the window, but Brandt couldn’t be sure how much would be visible from outside once the lights were on.

  ‘Sit,’ he commanded, indicating to the nearest chair. He instantly regretted selecting the two-seater sofa opposite for himself; his frame sinking into the foam more than he expected.

  ‘I don’t have much cash,’ she said, her hand bag clutched in her lap. ‘But I have some credit cards. I can give you my PIN.’ She started reaching into it. ‘The same one works for all of them.’

  ‘Stop!’

  Lily instantly froze.

  ‘Keep your hands where I can see them!’

  ‘Erm, how about some jewellery? I have some nice stuff. I don’t wear it to work but I could go and get it for you if you’d like.’

  Brandt didn’t like this. The previous women hadn’t spoken to him. Rather than increase the intimacy of the situation, this woman was unnerving. More unsettling was the way she was looking at him. It was similar to how his wife had done, on the occasions when he used to return home drunk. He had never really understood what it had meant; in fact, all it had done was anger him but, in the cold reality of sobriety, rather than being deliberately awkward it was the look of someone desperate to say the right thing but not knowing what that was.

  He felt sick.

  ‘Are you okay, sir? Is there something I can do to help?’

  The woman’s question seemed to snap Brandt awake. ‘Yes, yes, you see I do need your help with something.’ His tone was light, almost conversational. ‘I’m doing something really important. It’s hard but it’s really important. Do you understand?’

  ‘Erm, I think so,’ Lily replied willingly.

  ‘That’s good. No, that’s really good. I’ve had to do some things… some things that people think are wrong. But I’ve done them to do good. Have you ever done that?’

  ‘Well, yes, of course.’

  He was feeling happier. The woman had calmed down and seemed genuinely willing to help. Perhaps this could still sort itself out. ‘I have to make this look like something it’s not,’ he explained.

  ‘Okay. Like what?’

  ‘I need to… I need to do some things…’

  ‘Sure, take as long as you need. If you need to make a call, I have a mobile or, if you prefer, you could use the land line.’

  ‘No, no,’ Brandt said, shaking his head. Anger crept into his voice. ‘I have to do some things… some things… to you.’

  ‘What?’ Lily called out loudly. ‘I don’t understand, what do you mean?’

  Brandt hefted himself out of the sofa. Whereas the woman hadn’t recoiled when he put the knife to her eye earlier, now she was attempting to push back her chair with her feet, as though to maintain the distance between the two of them.

  He held up his hands in an attempt to reassure her. Seeing her eyes glance to the knife, he dropped it, so it was just his palms on view. ‘See, I don’t want to hurt you. I promise to be gentle, but they have to find evidence.’

  ‘Who? What evidence? Gentle?!’

  She’s going to scream, Brandt thought suddenly and launched himself across the room, knocking her off the chair. They both landed together on the floor. With his left hand he found her mouth again and with his right he started pulling at her shirt. It took a few tugs before the material ripped to reveal a plain white bra underneath. She was writhing, and he positioned himself so he could pin her down with his legs. Now sitting on top, he could feel her continued movement in his groin. He was surprised but not displeased that his body was reacting positively to it. Perhaps this won’t be as difficult as I thought, he smiled to himself. As he began to paw at the bra, unable to move it into a position where he could see her breasts, he considered whether a punch to her face might knock her unconscious and allow him to use both hands. But although her struggling was weakening, he didn’t want to deny himself the feeling of her body moving underneath him. No, instead he would go for her pants. If he couldn’t manage to rip the material, he was sure he could yank them sufficiently away or just push them to the side. Reaching behind him he managed to pull the skirt halfway down her thighs, but he couldn’t get at the knickers themselves.

  Brandt leaned to one side, attempting to reposition himself. Lily must have interpreted the lightening of the pressure on her as presenting her with her only chance. She swung her left arm up to meet with his shoulder. The force wa
s enough to tip him off balance and he fell to the side, smashing his head against the window ledge.

  Lily rolled onto all fours, the material of her skirt bunched up around her knees, causing her to slip a little. She shuffled forwards in the direction of the door before trying to gain her feet. Her skirt ripped as she planted one shoe on the floor and, as she rose up and put down the other heel, her ankle twisted, and she collapsed to the ground, falling on to her back.

  Brandt was dazed but could not allow the woman to escape, with her back on the floor he managed to pull himself up and crawl onto her; gripping her throat as soon as his hands reached it. She brought up her hands and, unable to loosen his grasp, reached up to claw at his face. Brandt leaned back and her flailing arms only managed to brush his nose.

  It was some time before Brandt released his grip. His fingers seemed locked in place and unwilling to extend. He knew he had to go but the shock of what had just happened was preventing him from getting up. He moved her head to the side to stop her sightless eyes looking at him. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, which he found even more appalling.

  The act of standing up brought a little clarity to Brandt’s thoughts. He was bound to have left some physical evidence here, but he was equally sure that he hadn’t with his other victims. If he stuck to his old methods with the next one, there would remain nothing to connect him to this. He certainly doubted those hapless idiots in the police would realise without him leaving any clues. You only receive what I choose to give, he thought smugly.

  Feeling reassured he decided to turn out the lights but leave the curtains drawn. He was already outside and pulling the door to, when he felt a moment’s hesitation. For some reason he had an urge to check his pockets. Propping open the door with his foot, he patted down his front. Nothing. Nothing! He pushed back through into the hallway, unconcerned at the slamming noise behind him. He flicked on the lights in the sitting room and frantically started scanning the floor for his knife. ‘Shit! Where is it?’ Brandt cursed out loud. He hadn’t checked under the sofa yet, but suddenly became aware of a more likely location.