No Right to Kill

by M A Comley

  Sara gulped, memories she had stored away for a while suddenly emerging. She drew her gaze away from the tragic couple and caught Carla eyeing her with concern.

  “Are you all right?” asked her partner.

  “Fine. Shocked, that’s all.” She walked through the room and bent down to see if there was anything lurking under the bed. The space was empty. “Nothing under the bed. Was there anything there to begin with? Did the killer find something of use?”

  “Why look there in the first place?” Carla asked.

  “I’m putting myself into the mindset of the victims. My grandparents always kept anything they deemed important under their bed. I just presumed everyone of an older generation did the same. Bearing in mind the Flowers kept their money under a loose floorboard beneath their bed.”

  “Good point. That fact momentarily slipped my mind,” Carla replied, her cheeks flaring up in embarrassment.

  Sara winked at her. “So, you reckon he tortured the woman first, trying to get the man to divulge where their loot was hidden?”

  “That’s my take on things,” Lorraine agreed.

  “What? And he killed them both once he’d found what he was searching for?”

  Lorraine shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. I suppose only a family member will be able to answer that.”

  “Twisted bastard either way. The couple must have really suffered during their ordeal, judging by the amount of blood.”

  “He stabbed them repeatedly. Sliced off the man’s ear.” Lorraine pointed at the bloody body part lying a few feet away that Sara had neglected to see.

  She sighed. “That’s sad. To feel the need to mutilate someone like that. Horrendous.”

  “I agree. I’m going to get on now, if there’s nothing else you need from me.”

  “Don’t let us hold you up. We’ll have a brief look around the lounge and then go and see what the neighbours have to say.”

  Sara and Carla left Lorraine and her team in the bedroom. On the way back down the hallway, Sara paused at the doorway to the other bedroom, noting the girly contents of the room. “My guess is the wife probably slept in here.”

  “I think you’re right. Time’s marching on, boss. We’ve got the roadworks to contend with on the way back, remember.”

  “And your shortcut to take if necessary. One more stop, and then we’ll make a move. Get on to the station for me. Organise a team of uniformed officers to come out here and do the initial house-to-house enquiries for us this time. We’ll be too busy.”

  Carla withdrew her phone from her pocket and contacted the station as instructed. Sara paused at the front door and decided to call at the house opposite first.

  A woman in a thick woollen cardigan opened the door. “Hello, there. I’m DI Sara Ramsey, and this is my partner, DS Carla Jameson. Are you the neighbour who called 999?”

  “I am. Do you want to come in? It’s a little nippy out there today. Or is it just me and the shock setting in?”

  Sara smiled. “Thank you. It is a little fresh. Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Barbara Knott. Linda was one of my closest friends. I shall miss her dearly. Damn, I’ve been trying hard all morning not to break down, and now look at me. Come through to the lounge, the gas fire is on in there. Sorry, where are my manners? Do you want a drink?”

  “No, we’re fine.”

  They walked into the brightly coloured lounge with its modern furniture. The whole ensemble shocked Sara.

  “I know. It’s a bit garish. My daughter came over last month, insisted that I needed a makeover, and this was the result. She’s delighted with it. I neither like nor dislike it.”

  Sara smiled. “Definitely a style that would take some getting used to.”

  “My worry is that she’s threatening to come over and do the rest of the house. How on earth I’m going to deter her from doing that I’m at a loss to know. Anyway, enough about my problems, which are insignificant in the grand scheme of things. How can I help to catch the warped bastard who has done this to my friends?”

  “We’re sorry for your loss. It must have been a shock to have discovered your friends like that.”

  “It was. That image will remain with me the rest of my damn life, I can tell you. Please, take a seat. At least the couch is comfy.”

  The three of them sat. Carla withdrew her notebook and began to take notes while Sara asked the woman what she knew. “Maybe you could run through what happened.”

  “It was around ten or ten-fifteen last night. That’s right, the News at Ten had just started. I thought I heard a scream outside, in the distance. I immediately muted the TV, but then everything sounded as it should, silent. We don’t tend to get a lot of noise out here at night. Most of the residents are of an older generation and respectful. It’s not like living on a new estate.”

  “Okay. So you didn’t leave your property to investigate the noise?”

  “No. I would never open my door, not at that time of night. Although, I’m regretting not doing that now. Perhaps if I’d rung the police last night, you might have caught the person responsible.”

  “Please, don’t feel guilty. There’s really no need.”

  Barbara inhaled a shuddering deep breath before she continued, “I had a restless night last night and was up at the crack of dawn. It doesn’t help with these bright mornings—I’ve not had a lie-in lately. I didn’t even have a cup of tea. I went straight over to Linda and Samuel’s house. The front door was ajar, so I pushed it open to find the place all topsy-turvy. My heart sank instantly. I knew something dreadful had happened. I called out to them both but didn’t receive a response. I tiptoed through the house, calling their names in case they were in the bathroom or bedroom. That’s when I found them.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. She sniffled and wiped her nose with a hanky. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen a dead person before. It’s affected me badly to see my friends slaughtered like that. Why? Who would do such a callous thing? Rob innocent people of their lives like that?”

  “That’s what we intend to find out, Barbara. I’m sorry you discovered your friends in such a way.”

  “I’ll never recover. I’m going to put the house on the market today. I can’t stay around here knowing that there is a killer on the loose. I could be next on his hit list.”

  “Maybe take a few days to consider your options. Can you stay with your daughter for a while?”

  “I’ve rung her. I have an agent coming around later this morning, and then my daughter is going to come by this afternoon to pick me up. If I stayed around here, I would never sleep again. I’d be constantly listening out for strange noises, signs of someone about to break in. Why do you think this happened?”

  “We have no idea on that at present. I have to ask if either Linda or Samuel confided in you that they had possibly fallen out with someone recently.”

  She shook her head and wiped her nose again. “They weren’t the type. Everyone in this community looks out for each other. We’re all friendly, not a baddun amongst us. Not a lot of villages or communities can brag about that these days.”

  Sara smiled. “You’re right. Do the Merediths have any family? Maybe a relative who lives close by.”

  Barbara gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She shook her head slowly then dropped her hand again. “Oh my. The thought never entered my mind. Geraldine…they have a daughter. She lives with them.”

  Sara thought back to the spare room she had spotted. “Was Geraldine in the house at the time, do you know?”

  “She’s always here. The poor girl has special needs.”

  Sara’s heart sank. If Geraldine wasn’t here, then where was she? Had the killer abducted her? Killed her and left her body in a ditch somewhere for them to find? “I need to go back to the house to obtain a photo, Carla. You stay here and question Barbara.” Sara raced out of the house and back across the road, the white suit she was wearing rustling as she moved. “Lorraine, Lorraine, are you there?”
>
  The pathologist emerged from the hallway wearing a frown. “What on earth is the matter?”

  “The couple had a daughter living with them. Have you found any signs of a struggle in the other bedroom?”

  “Shit, shit, shit! No. Bloody hell, you don’t think the bastard has got her, do you?”

  Sara nodded slowly. “I do. Damn, she’s got special needs, Lorraine.”

  “Fuck. That’s all we need. Her in the hands of a frigging maniac.”

  Sara glanced around the room from the doorway, not wishing to step back into the house in case she contaminated the scene. “I need to find a photo of the girl. Please, help me look for one.”

  Lorraine went to the bookcase, and beneath it, lying on the floor alongside all the books that had been dislodged from the shelf, was a picture frame. “I’ve got one.”

  She crossed the room and handed the frame to Sara. “Damn. I hope we bloody find her soon before it’s too late. Shite! She’s got Down’s syndrome.” She shook her head as the shock of the situation overwhelmed her.

  Lorraine rested a hand on her forearm. “Sara, you can do this. You need to put this aside and think of her as any other person who has gone missing.”

  Sara flung her arms out to the side. “How can you say that? I know deep down that I’m not going to be able to do that. Fuck! What does this guy want?”

  Lorraine issued her a weak smile and shrugged. “The signs are far from clear on this one. Again, up until now, we’ve not come across anything useful DNA-wise.”

  Sara pointed at her. “See, now that’s what convinces me that this guy knows what he’s doing. I wonder if he knew the Merediths had a daughter living with them. Jesus! What if he kills her?”

  Lorraine worriedly ran a hand around her face. “What you need to consider is that up to this point, he had the opportunity to kill her and hasn’t. I think we need to take heart from that.”

  Sara nodded. “I hear you. What if he has killed her, taken her body with him with the intention of dumping her somewhere? How do we know he’s not playing games with us? What a frigging mess. Why me? Why on my patch? The damn press are going to love this!”

  “You’re talking nonsense. Stop taking this personally, Sara.”

  Sara sucked in a breath then let it out slowly, lowering her head to her chest. “Maybe. Shit! What do I know about what kind of needs this woman has?”

  “I don’t know either. You’re going to need to seek expert advice on that one.”

  “You’re right. I better shoot off. I need to get back to the station. Do your best—I know you always do, but please, I’m begging you and your team to be extra vigilant on this one.”

  “Don’t worry about that. We’ll go over this place with a magnifying glass if we need to. I want this fucker caught as much as you do.”

  Sara walked back to her car, removed her paper suit and jumped into the driver’s seat, contemplating what she should do next. Carla emerged from the neighbour’s house, disrobed and sat in the seat next to her.

  Sara placed a call to the station. “Jill, it’s me.” She inhaled then exhaled a large breath. “We’ve got a tough one here. Another double murder. Carla and I are on our way back to the station now. I need you to do some research for me, if you would?”

  “What do you need, boss?” Jill replied.

  “I want you to find out what special needs someone with Down’s syndrome has.” Sara sensed Carla’s head sharply turn her way. She held up a finger as if to say, ‘I’ll fill you in later’, then continued, “Do they take special medication? Do they require a special diet perhaps? You get the gist.”

  “I’ll get onto it right away, boss.”

  “Thanks. See you soon, Jill.” Sara jabbed a finger at her phone to end the call.

  “Why did you want to know that?” Carla asked.

  “Because Geraldine Meredith is Down’s, and it looks like the bastard has abducted her.”

  Carla bashed her clenched fist against the dashboard. “Fucking shit, that’s all we sodding need. Christ, you better hold me back when we eventually catch up with this shit.”

  “I think you’ll need to join a long line of people who’ll be wanting to dish out punishment on this one, Carla. Christ, I feel sick. That poor woman. She’s going to feel lost and alone, confused, and Lord knows what other emotions will be running through her if she bloody witnessed the deaths of her parents.”

  “Don’t, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Let’s go. This case has just notched up a little to a must-solve-swiftly case. I hope for his sake he doesn’t hurt her. I don’t profess to know what goes on in some of these bastards’ twisted minds.”

  Sara nodded. “I agree. Let’s not dwell on that side of things. Think positively. We will get her back unharmed. Damn, I should’ve asked Jill to put out a missing person alert for Geraldine.” Sara reached in the back seat for the photo she had thrown there. “Take a photo on your phone and ring Jill back for me. The sooner we get that actioned, the better.” She started the engine and put her foot down in her haste to get back to the station in record time, whether there were roadworks in the way or not.

  Chapter 9

  He paced the floor in front of the frightened woman. Her eyes were bulbous with fear. She stared at him, making him feel uncomfortable under her gaze. What the fuck was I thinking about taking her? I should have killed her along with her parents. The truth was, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  Running a hand through his short black hair, he secured her to the bed. She didn’t attempt to fight him or struggle against her confines in the slightest. She just continued to stare at him confused.

  He rushed downstairs and rummaged in the fridge. There were a couple of eggs in there, a few tomatoes and a manky pepper that should have been destined for the bin. Instead, he chopped up the tomatoes and pepper, beat the eggs with the last drop of milk in the carton and placed it all in a pan. Omelettes were the only decent meal he had the aptitude to muster up at short notice for the woman.

  After ten minutes, he plated up the omelette that had split when he’d tried to get it out of the pan. He took it upstairs and handed it to her, pleased with himself that he’d shown a willingness to care for her properly, even if he had tied one of her hands to the bed. “Eat. You must be hungry.”

  Her gaze drifted from him to the plate he was holding and then back up to him. Slowly, she shook her head. In the hours he’d held her captive, she hadn’t spoken a single word. He had no idea if she could even speak.

  He forced the plate under her nose, hoping the smell would entice her to pick up the fork. It didn’t. She simply stared at him with those large, lost eyes. Her expression cut him, tore his insides apart. He’d killed five people in the last forty-eight hours and only felt a smattering of guilt, but having this woman stare at him like this was tearing him to shreds. “Please, eat. You need to keep your strength up. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. Eat.”

  She shook her head slightly and gently pushed the plate away with her free hand. “No. Not hungry. I want my mummy.”

  Unexpected tears pricked his eyes. What the fuck have I done? “I’m sorry,” he muttered, feeling genuine guilt for the first time since his quest had begun.

  “Want my mummy.”

  “I’m sorry. Eat the damn omelette. You need to keep your strength up.”

  She shook her head and squeezed her lips tightly together.

  He gave up, sat on the bed beside her and tucked into the omelette himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the woman watching him place every mouthful in his mouth. Once or twice he offered her a bite—she refused each time.

  After he’d finished, he took the plate downstairs and boiled the kettle. He kicked himself when he realised he’d used the last of the milk in the omelette. He put on his jacket and left the house. The corner shop at the end of the street was handy for what he needed. He bought two pints of milk when he usually opted for a single pint. He returned to the house and continued to
make the coffee for two people, in the hope the woman would relent and at least have a drink with him.

  He returned upstairs and offered her the mug of coffee. She made no attempt to take it from him. Instead, she turned her face away to stare at the wall beside her.

  “Please. You have to drink. I mean you no harm.”

  She faced him and said only one sentence, “I want my mummy.”

  He threw his mug against the wall and instantly regretted his actions when she curled into a ball beside him and rocked back and forth. She was crying, large tears. As each one fell, his heart squeezed a little more. He was at a loss what to say or do next so left the room.

  He paced the lounge downstairs, pondering what his next move should be. He was light by nine and a half grand. He’d need to make another hit before Friday. Two days to source another victim and come up with the goods. He flipped through the Flowers’ address book for more of their friends who lived locally.

  Chapter 10

  Sara and Carla made it back to base by the skin of their teeth. Sara ran through the station, stopping off at the loo to assess herself. She ran a comb through her hair and came to the conclusion that she looked half-decent. Then she left Carla to fill in the rest of the team while she ran back down the stairs and into the press room. Outside the room, she was surprised to see DCI Carol Price pacing the area.

  “Crikey, you’ve only just made it.”

  “Ma’am. Sorry, we had another murder scene to attend to this morning.”

  “Crap. I hadn’t heard. Are you going to mention that one at the same time? Is there a connection, do you think?”

  “Hard to discount a connection when both incidents happened within a few miles of each other, ma’am. There’s something else.”

  DCI Price inclined her head. “Quickly, we don’t have much time, what is it?”