by M A Comley
The group gave Hero his answer by turning their backs on him and walking away, with their heads down.
Shit!
The woman shook her muzzy head. It had just turned seven thirty in the evening. She had been asleep since lunchtime after being on the prowl the previous night. Coming down from her power rush had taken her until one o’clock in the morning. She was ready to slot the next piece into her gory puzzle.
She went to her wardrobe and picked out another suitably tarty outfit. After showering, she dressed then carefully applied her makeup, covering all the imperfections in her late-thirties skin. She pulled the blonde wig onto her head and admired her reflection. No one would guess. No one could tell she was older than she looked. She smiled. No one could tell.
The taxi pulled up at the corner of her road, and she jumped in the backseat, ignoring the interested gaze of the driver as he studied her in his rear-view mirror. She didn’t speak. She’d already told the taxi controller her destination, so she had no need to enter into a conversation with this man. Her thoughts were filled with what lay ahead of her as well as her plan of action. She had confidence in her ability to pull off her daring scheme. She knew what drove her to succeed. And succeed, she would, without doubt. Failure was not in her vocabulary.
Her tummy twisted into knots as she handed the driver a tenner and got out of the taxi. She waited for him to pull away before she moved into position. She could hear the usual banter between the girls as she approached. She wasn’t familiar with these particular girls because she’d never been this far east of the city before. She was of two minds about how to proceed. She really didn’t want to kill any more prostitutes. It wasn’t their fault she was angry with the Krull Gang. It was the gang she wanted to take out, not the girls.
She rubbed her hands together to ward off the evening. Was that a drop of rain? Looking up at the sky, she felt two more fat drops make their marks on her ruby cheeks. Damn! She looked around for any sign of cover and ran to the small bus shelter halfway up the road, just making it before the heavens opened on her. A car slowly crept past the shelter, but she kept her eyes trained on the road ahead of her. The same car drove past her a second, then a third time, within a matter of a few minutes. A punter. Shit! How are you going to get out of this one, girly?
“Hey, darlin’, fancy a ride?”
There was no escaping. She plastered a big smile on her face and approached the car. Bending down, she leaned on the window and was taken aback when she recognised the driver, even in the dim light.
“Might do. What did ya have in mind?” she asked in a little-girl-lost kind of voice.
“Jump in. There’s a hotel I know nearby.”
She nodded and jumped in the passenger seat beside him. His hand automatically reached out and squeezed her thigh. The thought of killing him there and then swiftly filled her mind, but she pushed it away. Wait! Bide your time.
The hotel, if she could call it that, was a two-minute drive away. She and the mystery man ran up the steps and into the dingy reception area. She shyly pulled her hair across her face and started sucking at the ends. She glanced down at the guy’s crotch and saw evidence that the action had turned him on. She cringed at the thought of him touching her again.
The man behind the reception desk shared a joke with the punter before he handed over the key to their room. She followed him up the stairs. He stormed ahead of her, but she strolled along behind him, walking gingerly on her heels, afraid of turning her ankle. When he reached the room, he ordered her to hurry up. However, she continued to take her time as with every step she took, another piece of her plan fit into place.
He’d switched on the bedside light and pulled back the quilt by the time she reached the room. Eager little shit, aren’t you? He sat down on the bed and beckoned her towards him. She closed the door behind her and gulped before she walked over to stand in front of him. His hand ran up her shapely thigh, and her right hand sought out the knife in her bag while her other hand still held the clump of hair over her face.
“Come on, baby, drop ’em. Let’s see what you’ve got to offer. Hey, I’m out recruiting girls tonight. If you show me a good time, I’ll have a word with the boss to take you on full-time.”
“Really? You’d do that for me? Well, I’d better show you my goods then. Why don’t you help yourself? You seem a capable man.”
His eyes stood out on stalks, and he grabbed either side of her knickers and yanked them down to her ankles. One of his hands reached around to her backside and slapped it as the other reached up the front of her skirt and sought out the warm core of her slim body.
“What the fuck?” he said, withdrawing his hand as if it had just been consumed by fire.
She didn’t hesitate any longer. She slashed the knife across his throat. The wound was deep, and his reaction was to cover the gaping hole rather than to lash out at her. She slipped her feet out of her knickers and stepped back. She didn’t have to wait long before he collapsed on the bed, dead.
Nonchalantly, she replaced her underwear and left the room. The alarm went off as she went through the fire escape at the end of the hall. She slammed the door shut behind her, took off her shoes, and ran down the metal staircase on the outside of the building, not bothering about the rain lashing down on her.
When she reached the bottom, she ran, harder and faster than she’d ever run before, until the hotel was a fleck on the horizon behind her. She flagged down a passing taxi to take her home. Slipping on her shoes, she searched in her bag for her compact. Fear touched her heart when she realised she had drops of the man’s blood on her face. She wiped it off with the sleeve of her blouse before the driver had a chance to notice.
After the driver pulled up at the end of her road, she paid him and got out of the car. She waited until he had disappeared around the next corner before she went to her house. The rain had subsided a little by then, but she was already soaked to the skin. She let herself in and ran upstairs before the rest of the household realised she was home. She ran a hot bath and scrubbed away the man’s blood and the feel of his hands on her legs. She lay back to reflect on her evening’s good work. One more down. Two to go.
She dried herself, tore her clothes to shreds, and concealed them in a carrier bag at the back of the wardrobe. She placed her wig on its hook and dived into her bed. Sleep came quickly that night. But her dreams were still filled with the evening’s events. She woke herself up crying at around two o’clock and slipped downstairs to fetch herself some warm milk, which she laced with a tot of whiskey to ease her back to sleep. She slept the rest of the night and dreamed pleasant dreams instead of reliving the nightmare of her evening’s activities. She told herself over and over that she wasn’t a killer, let alone a serial killer.
This would all end soon enough. Then she could get on with her life in the knowledge that she had rid the world of these despicable men. She would give up her nightly kills then and return to her simple life. Or will I?
Chapter 21
Hero walked into the station the next day, deep in thought. He’d had a restless night because of the Krulls. He needed to find a way to arrest them. Even if he did that, he knew that the gang’s expensive solicitor, whom they kept on the payroll, would get them off just by snapping his fingers. He needed something concrete and someone to speak out about the Krulls in court. Even then, there were no guarantees the gang wouldn’t get off scot-free like they usually did.
The second he saw the faces of his team as he pushed through the door to the incident room, he knew that his day would be long and troublesome.
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
“Well, late last night, there was yet another murder,” Julie said, looking up from her computer screen.
Hero exhaled an exasperated sigh. “Prostitute or gang member?”
“Another gang member. Correct that, another Krull Gang member.”
“Really? Now I am surprised by that. You’d have thought, after what they did to
Munroe, that the gang would have gone underground for a while.”
Julie shrugged. “I suppose that just shows what kind of psychos we’re dealing with, sir.”
“Where did it happen?” Hero sat on the desk next to his partner’s.
“This is where it gets interesting. The crime scene wasn’t on the streets like the others, but in a hotel room.”
“I see. Are we talking about the woman killer? Did she entice the gang member into the hotel? Who is the victim, by the way?”
“It’s Johnson, and yes, the woman was definitely involved.”
“Right, we’ll head over there and question the manager. Anything else I should know about?”
“No, sir. Only that the chief wanted a word with you as soon as you got in. Thought you’d want to hear about the murder first before I told you that piece of news.”
“You did right, Julie. I’ll see what he wants. Be ready to go when I get back.”
“Okay, sir.”
Hero made his way along the corridor to Cranwell’s office. The chief’s secretary asked him to take a seat for a minute while the chief finished an important call. Instead of sitting, Hero paced anxiously around the secretary’s office and noticed her grinding her teeth in annoyance.
Finally, she showed Hero into the chief’s office. The chief didn’t even acknowledge his arrival.
“Morning, sir,” Hero said, his voice faltering slightly.
“Is it?” The chief picked up the paper beside him and threw it across the desk at Hero.
Having not seen the morning paper, Hero skimmed through Dave Wheeler’s article about Trevor Munroe’s death. Hero’s gaze met his chief’s. “I had no idea this story was going to run today.”
“So you knew about this?” the chief shot back at him.
“Of course, sir. I attended the scene yesterday. Tried to get the witnesses, the other gang members, to give statements, but they refused. No one is willing to speak out against the Krull Gang.”
“So, what do you intend doing about that, Nelson?”
Feeling defeated, Hero slumped into the seat opposite his boss. “My hands—our hands—are tied, sir. Without evidence or witnesses, the CPS would laugh at us. Actually, you probably haven’t heard the rest of the story.”
The chief sat back in his chair, clasped his hands together, and steepled his fingers in front of him. “You have my full attention, Inspector.”
“At the moment, we’re on the trail of a woman. She’s been killing off prostitutes—”
“Stop right there. What has that got to do with this notorious gang?”
“Well, the prostitutes were all on the Krull Gang’s payroll. The thing is that in the last few days, things have escalated, in that, it appears this woman is now intent on killing off the Krull Gang. At least, that’s how it seems to me.”
“And you’re sure about this? Do you know who this woman is?”
Hero shook his head. “We have a poor CCTV picture of the woman and have showed it around to several people, but no one recognises her. When I arrived this morning, I learned of yet another one of the Krull members being killed. It’s all a bit sketchy right now. As soon as this meeting is over, I’m heading out to question the hotel manager.”
“This isn’t good enough, Nelson, not in my area. I want this woman caught ASAP.”
“Yes, sir, I’m doing my best, but the cases are mounting up, and my team are already under pressure. If…”
“Spit it out, man. What do you need?”
“Can you sanction some more overtime, sir? Another eight hours maybe. I was going to send the team out tonight. The murders are happening in a specific area and more frequently. We need to be out there on the street when there is a possibility of her striking again.”
“What makes you think she’ll strike again so soon?”
“I just do. She’s shown no signs of backing off, even when the stories have hit the news. She’s one gutsy lady. I’ll give her that. If I can get my team out there on the streets, it just might be the deterrent we need until we find some evidence to proceed with.”
“This is all very frustrating for me, Inspector. Very well, eight hours, and that’s your lot. Report back to me with good news tomorrow morning.”
And I’m not frustrated? You want to live in my shoes for one day a week!
Hero stood up and left the room. He made his way back to his team and told them to cancel any plans they had that evening and explained his decision. The majority of them didn’t seem happy about the extra work, but they understood. He added Johnson’s name to the board before leaving the station, with his partner in tow.
They parked the car in the hotel car park and walked up the side alley to the main entrance. “Nice place,” Julie mumbled.
“We’re not here to book a room, Sergeant.” When he turned to look at her, she shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I apologise. That was uncalled for.”
“Accepted,” she said, giving him a brief smile.
The hotel had remained open. Only the bedroom where the murder had taken place was off limits to the general public, not that it looked as if the hotel had customers breaking down their doors to rent a room.
Hero approached a man in his late thirties who was sitting behind the tiny reception desk his head buried in what appeared to be a porno magazine. He quickly threw it in the drawer when he glanced up at them.
Showing his warrant card, Hero introduced himself and his partner. “Are you the manager?”
The man gave him a toothless grin. “I’m everything around here. Are you here about the murder?”
“Yes. Were you on duty when the man and woman paid for the room?”
“Yep. Saw him, but she was kind of shy. Had her face hidden behind her hair and stood over there against the wall most of the time.”
“So, you wouldn’t be able to identify her in a line-up?”
The man’s lip turned up. “Nope. After she’d killed the bloke, she ran out of the fire escape, so I only saw her the once.”
“I see, mind if we take a look at the room?”
He shrugged. “Why not? People in white suits have taken root up there anyway.”
“Are SOCO still there?”
“Yep. Any chance you can hurry them along? That’s my best room they’re tearing apart up there.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” He and Julie started up the stairs and heard the man grunt and mutter something.
Inside the room, three people in protective clothing were dusting and collecting hairs from every surface. Hotels were notoriously time consuming for scenes of crime officers to process. Unlike private houses, hotels had hundreds of fingerprints and fibre particles hidden in the carpet for them to deal with. The person in charge equipped Hero and Julie with blue paper shoes and white paper suits. Once they were suited and booted, they entered the room.
Hero didn’t hold out much hope of the manager getting his room fit for letting out again anytime soon. Arterial blood spray patterns stained the walls and the ceiling. The room would need half a dozen coats of paint before another customer could set foot in it.
“Is it proving pointless?”
The officer in charge, whom Hero had seen before at various scenes, nodded and led Hero and Julie over to the hundreds of evidence bags resting against the wall.
“Shit! You can’t tell if any of the evidence is fresh or not?”
“There was some surface hair on the carpet, from at least ten different people. Let’s just say that if I employed the chambermaid responsible for cleaning this room, she’d be fired on the spot.”
“I don’t suppose the killer left the weapon behind, did she?”
“No such luck, I’m afraid.”
Hero surveyed the room and then bent down to inspect the brown paper bags. Without opening them, he read the content notes written on the outside of each one. Most of them contained hair samples and different fibres from the carpet. He saw really nothing of interest that would tell him who th
e murderer was.
Deciding they were wasting valuable time at a scene throwing up such varied and useless evidence, Hero signalled to Julie that they were leaving.
“Why?”
“Our skills are needed elsewhere. Let’s leave these guys to do their jobs. Looks like they’ll be here for hours yet. Come on, time’s a wasting.”
They shrugged out of their suits and headed back to the station. When they reached the incident room, Hero called the team together.
“To make use of the eight hours overtime the DCI has offered us, I’d like you all out on the street tonight. Let’s use the time wisely. Looking at the times of death on all the murders, each one has taken place between nine and eleven.”
The team nodded as they listened to Hero.
“We’ll split up into teams. Concentrate on the four corners of the Brickfields Estate where the girls hang out. If anybody needs to go home for a few hours, I’m not averse to that. However, I’m not saying tonight is compulsory overtime. What I am saying is let’s take this opportunity to wrap this case, these cases, up once and for all.”
“Where the fuck is that piece of shit?”
“I don’t know, Crabbie. The last I heard, he was going out recruiting girls. I ain’t seen or heard from Johnson since. You don’t think anything’s happened to him, do you? Like Jez.”
“How the fuck should I know? He probably shagged some bird last night, and she offered him seconds and thirds this morning.”
They both laughed for a moment before Stuart got serious again. “I’m not so sure. Maybe the Tidy Gang have kidnapped him or something. Payback for doing over Munroe, maybe?”
“Nah, you’re worrying for no reason. Anyway, they wouldn’t have the balls. None of the gangs will have the balls to mess with us after what we done to good ol’ Trevor. I’ll tell you what we need to do tonight, though.”
“I’m listening, bro.”
“We need to get out there and grab the money off the girls. You’ll have to take over Jez’s role doing that. Plus, we’ve gotta get some more girls on board. Our income has been sliced by a third since the girls got topped.”