No Right to Kill

by M A Comley

  “It’s a rarity around these parts, isn’t it?”

  “Totally. I thought I was coming to a quiet area when I transferred, where the only cases I would have to attend were a bit of sheep rustling or things along that line.”

  “Where have you transferred from?”

  “Liverpool.”

  “Oh my. I have a nephew who lives in Bootle. He’s always complaining about the gang culture up there and the drive-by shootings people have to contend with.”

  Sara felt the colour drain from her face.

  “Oh dear, sorry, have I said something wrong? You look a little pale, Inspector.”

  “My husband was killed during a shootout. He died in my arms.”

  Unbeknown to Sara, Carla had stepped into the room carrying a tray. She gasped.

  Sara closed her eyes, regretting her decision to open up to Katherine. She’d kept her secret from the rest of her team all these months and now she feared it would be all around the station within the next few days.

  “I had no idea,” Carla muttered, placing the tray of drinks on the coffee table.

  “I’d prefer if that information remained between us, Sergeant.”

  “You have my word, boss.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry, Inspector, forgive me. So, you’ll know exactly how numb I’m feeling right now,” Katherine said.

  “I do indeed. All I can say is that over time the numbness disperses. I still get days when I feel down, and the nightmares invade my sleep occasionally, like last night. But in the main, I cope. We have to carry on, don’t we?”

  “Did they ever find the person responsible?” Carla asked.

  Sara shook her head and swallowed noisily. “No. Please, I’d rather not discuss the subject further. This isn’t about me, it’s about doing all we can to get Geraldine back, unharmed.” Sara’s mobile rang. She hopped out of her chair and went to the window again to answer the call. “Hi, Jane. How did you get on?”

  “I had to beg, borrow and steal a time slot. They’ve all agreed to another appeal taking place at three this afternoon, and the good news is, they’re going to edit the appeal of this morning to incorporate both cases.”

  “You’re an absolute treasure. Thanks so much. I’ll see you just before three then.”

  “Always a pleasure to help, you know that, Inspector.”

  “See you later.” Sara ended the call and returned to her seat. Carla handed her a cup of coffee. Sara took a sip and confirmed the arrangements that Jane had made. “Will you be able to drive to the station this afternoon, Katherine, or would you rather me send a car to pick you up?”

  “The last thing I want to do is put you out, but would you mind if someone picked me up? I’m not sure I can trust my legs to work well enough to drive at present after what happened a few moments ago.”

  “It’s really not a problem. The appeal is booked for three. I’ll send a driver to fetch you at two-thirty, if that’s all right?”

  “Perfect. I’m already getting nervous about being in front of the cameras. What if I mess things up?”

  “You won’t. I’ll be right there beside you. I think the best way to overcome your nerves would be if you thought about the appeal as though you and I were having a chat, just as we are now. Ignore all the lights and the cameras. Do you think you’ll be able to manage that?”

  “I think so. We’ll soon find out.”

  Sara smiled reassuringly at her. “You’ll be fine. We’ll drink this then get back to the station.”

  Chapter 12

  He paced the floor, in two minds what to do for the best. He wanted to care for Geraldine, but she was refusing to eat or drink anything. He was aware that she needed to have regular sustenance. His sister had Down’s; she died when she was seven. Not many people knew that about him. He loved his sister, her funny quirky ways. Most boys hated being around their sisters when they were in their teens, but he hadn’t. He used to rush home from school every day to play with her. He loved the way she beamed at him the second he walked into the house. Sonia used to run into his arms, hugging the air out of his body with her fierce grip.

  Staring at Geraldine made his heart lurch. He wanted so much to care for her. Guilt was guiding his every move right now. Had he known that the Merediths had a Down’s daughter, he would never have gone near their place. All he wanted to do now was make amends for his actions. At the back of his mind, Mick’s warning was prominent—he had three days to come up with twenty grand. That alone was enough to prompt what he was about to do next.

  With Geraldine tied to the bed, he bent down and whispered, “I won’t be long. You’ll be safe here with me. Don’t fight me, Geraldine. I mean you no harm. I have to nip out for a moment or two. Do you want me to pick up some sherbet for you? Sonia used to like the way it tickled her tongue. Do you like it, too?”

  Geraldine stared at him, neither affirming nor disagreeing with him. He smiled and squeezed her hand gently. She turned her head away from him. It was then that he realised she must be scared of the way he looked, the pasting Mick had given him. He touched his face and flinched when his hand swept over his bruised cheek. Bastard! I’ll make you pay for what you’ve done to me.

  He left the house, jumped in his car and drove into town, not even contemplating that Dawn’s body was in the boot of his car. He left his vehicle in one of the multi-storey car parks and went in search of a phone shop.

  “Hello, sir. How can I help?”

  He pulled the collar of his jacket up around his face, trying to hide the bruises. “I need a pay-as-you-go phone. No damn contracts—thieving bastards, the lot of them.”

  “No problem, sir. You don’t have to take out a contract if you don’t want one. Would you like to come with me?”

  He followed the young acne-covered man to the other side of the shop.

  “What about this one? It’s small yet high on functionality.”

  “Just the basic model, none of this fancy-pantsy stuff. All I want to do is make some calls in an emergency.”

  “Then this model would be ideal for you. It’s one of our cheaper models, too, at only thirty-nine pounds.”

  “Sold. No need to bung it in a box, I’ll have it as it is.”

  “Would you like me to set up the phone and register the sim card for you?”

  “Yeah, that would be good. Thanks.”

  He stood tapping his foot impatiently while the young assistant did the necessary with the phone.

  “There you are, it’s all good to go now. Will it be cash or card, sir?”

  “Cash.” He handed over the forty pounds and waited for the phone and his change. Then he left the store swiftly and made his way back to the car, halting at the newsagent’s when he remembered his promise to Geraldine. He nipped inside and bought five Sherbet Fountains, surprised they were still for sale after all these years.

  He arrived home ten minutes later, eager to see Geraldine again. He took his bag upstairs and walked into the bedroom. She was lying down, her eyes wide open, staring at him. For the briefest of moments, he thought she was dead, but then she struggled to sit up. He let out a sigh of relief and dipped his hand inside the carrier and pulled out one of the Sherbet Fountains. He offered it to her.

  Tentatively, Geraldine took the confectionery, but instead of ripping it open like his sister would have, she studied it, long and hard.

  “Haven’t you ever seen one before? Want me to show you how to eat it?”

  He withdrew another fountain from the bag and sucked the end of the length of liquorice. His tongue tingled at the sensation of the sherbet filling his mouth. He cringed. It was far sweeter than he remembered. “Nice. Go on, try it.”

  Geraldine moved her other hand up to the one that was fastened to the bed and copied his movements exactly. As soon as the sherbet hit her mouth, she blinked, and her mouth twisted from side to side, as if she was unsure what to make of it. She threw the fountain on the floor.

  He bent down to pick it
up, unsure whether he should be offended or not, especially as he’d gone out of his way to pick up the confectionery for her. After a while he laughed. “Don’t you like it? After tasting it, I’m inclined to agree with you. It’s far too sweet for my liking. Never mind, at least I tried. Do you want something else to eat? A sandwich perhaps?” She shook her head. “You need to keep your strength up. Please, for me?”

  She flopped down on the bed again and curled into a foetal position.

  He left her and went downstairs. He threw the rest of the Sherbet Fountains in the bin and decided to switch on the news, mainly to see if his antics were the main topic on the bulletin. He wasn’t disappointed. He watched a female inspector speaking about the Flowers’ deaths but thought it was strange that she made no reference to the last family he had slaughtered. He narrowed his eyes, focussing on the young inspector, annoyed that she didn’t appear to be taking him seriously.

  Suddenly, the filming was interrupted by another update. “That appeal was made earlier today. Since then, another heinous crime has taken place. It is with regret that I have to inform you that this morning Linda and Samuel Meredith were found murdered in their home. The attack was far more brutal than the first incident. This is Linda’s sister, Katherine. Unfortunately, not only did the murderer kill two innocent people, he or she also appears to have kidnapped a third member of the family, the couple’s daughter, Geraldine. Katherine would like to share with you all a little bit about her niece.”

  Katherine cleared her throat then took a sip of water from the glass by her side. “Thank you, Inspector.” Holding up a framed photo, she added, “This is my beautiful family. My sister and her husband were kind, sincere and the most generous people I’ve ever met. They didn’t deserve to die the way they did. To be cut down in the prime of their lives.” She paused to wipe away the tears brimming in her eyes. “Their deaths will haunt me for the rest of my life, but my concerns lie with this young lady. My niece, Geraldine, has special needs. As you can probably tell from this picture, she has Down’s syndrome. Up until now, Linda and Samuel ensured their daughter, my niece, led as normal a life as possible, but they were always there to guide her if she drifted off course. This morning, when the police arrived at my sister’s home, Geraldine was missing. We’re presuming that the murderer has kidnapped her. Unthinkable to even consider, but that appears to be the truth nonetheless. We need her back. Geraldine will be in a confused state without her parents being around her. If she witnessed their deaths, I dread to think how desperate she must be feeling right now. Please, I’m begging you, the person who is holding her, not to hurt her. She’s the kindest, gentle soul. She doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this.”

  Katherine reached for a small tube in front of her. Holding it up, she rattled it a little. “These are the tablets she needs to take daily. If she doesn’t, you will have her death on your hands as well. Please, please let her go. Bring her home to me. She has a heart defect that needs to be carefully monitored at all times.”

  A lump formed in his throat when the woman broke down in tears. He had no idea that Geraldine needed constant supervision. All he’d seen when he’d spotted her in her bedroom was an older version of his sister. Something deep inside was urging him to care for her. Fraught, he ran his fingers through his hair. “What the fuck do I do now?”

  He walked across the room and, still staring at the screen, he punched in the number running across the bottom.

  “Hello, this is DS Jill Smalling. You’re through to the incident room. How can I help?”

  “I have her. The girl.”

  “Geraldine Meredith? Is that who you mean, sir?”

  “You know damn well who I’m talking about. I want money for her safe return. Fifty grand.”

  “Would you hold the line, sir? I’ll transfer your call to the SIO in charge of the case.”

  “Do that and I hang up. I want that money by tomorrow morning. I’ll give you until midday to come up with the funds. It shouldn’t be difficult, the aunt looks wealthy enough. If she wants her niece back as much as she’s saying she does, then she’ll be prepared to cough up the ransom, right?”

  “I need some details from you, sir. Such as where you want us to drop off the funds.”

  He slammed a fist into his thigh. He should have thought about that. He’d placed the call without thinking through his plan thoroughly. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow morning at ten with further instructions.” He ended the call before the bitch copper could ask him anything else.

  A heart defect! What if she goes downhill overnight without her medication? What the fuck am I going to do then?

  He fixed himself a sandwich and a cup of coffee, but his throat was too restrictive to eat. He pushed the sandwich aside. He tiptoed upstairs to check if Geraldine was all right. Glancing at her from the doorway, the way he used to watch Sonia sleep, he felt a peacefulness he hadn’t felt in a long time. He wasn’t a murderer, not really. He was a man who had been driven to extremes out of desperation to pay off the debts that had mounted up. Mick—it was Mick’s fault! He was the one who had turned him into a killer. His greed to have his money returned plus an exorbitant percentage on top.

  What the heck was I thinking taking the money off him in the first place? Drugs, the be all and end all of so many people’s lives, that’s my downfall. The one thing that is truly behind turning me into a killer. I never wanted this to happen. Never.

  It was then that it dawned on him what he’d done. By making that call, was it possible the police could trace the call back to him? Yes, he’d bought a pay-as-you-go phone, but his dilemma remained the same: did he really know enough about the workings of the police’s abilities to trace calls?

  Scared, he picked up the phone and left the house. Pulling his hoodie over his head, he sprinted to his car and drove twenty minutes away to dump the phone. “Brilliant, now what do I do about getting the extra dosh I need to pay off Mick?” The answer came to him swiftly. He would need to find yet another victim, one with plenty of money lying around the house. He reached into the glove box and withdrew the Flowers’ address book. Flicking through the pages, he chose his next victim. He started the engine and drove around the city for a couple of hours until darkness fell to shield his next movements.

  He sat in the car and watched the house. The lights went on in different rooms periodically as the couple moved around inside. He clenched his hands tightly and unfurled his fingers as his nerves jangled. Although he’d carried out the same crime twice already, there was no denying how scared he was about taking someone else’s life. If only the others had handed over the money, they would still be alive today. He wondered if this couple would be different or if they would be foolish enough to tackle him instead of handing over the cash he presumed they had in the house. He pulled the gaffer tape and the ten-inch knife from the carrier bag he kept under the passenger seat. He carefully slid the knife into the back of his jeans and placed the tape in the pocket of his jacket, then waited.

  At ten-fifteen, he slipped out of the car, closing the door gently behind him. He crossed the road, surveying his surroundings every inch of the way until he reached the front door of the house. He peered through a gap at the side of the curtain and saw a man sitting in one of the easy chairs—he’d seen a light go on at the end of the house and presumed his wife had gone to bed. He knocked on the door, avoiding ringing the bell to alert the wife.

  Not long after, the man opened the door. “Yes, can I help you?”

  “Sorry. I appear to be lost. I saw your light on, I hope you don’t mind me knocking.”

  “Not at all. Where are you looking for?”

  “Bodenham. It’s on this road somewhere, I know it is, just can’t seem to place the right turning in the dark.”

  The man smiled and stepped towards him. “Is that your car?”

  “It is.”

  “In that case, you’ll need to turn the car around and go back to the end of the road. Drive for about two m
inutes, then you’ll see a crossroads. Take the first on your right.”

  “That’s where I went wrong. Thanks ever so much.” He withdrew the knife and pushed the man back into the house.

  “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”

  He struck the man with his clenched fist. The man toppled backwards, lost his balance and stared up at him from the floor. “Please, don’t hurt us.”

  “I have no intention of hurting you if you hand over the money.”

  The man’s brow creased into a frown. “What money? We don’t keep any money in the house.”

  He leaned closer, getting in the man’s face, and with a menacing sneer, he said, “I always kill the wife first, just so you know. She’s in the bedroom, right? I might even have some fun with her before I kill her—that is unless you reconsider what you’re telling me. Now, where do you keep the cash?”

  The man sighed. “In the wardrobe, in a safe. Kill us, and you’ll never get your hands on it. Let us live, and I’ll give you the money and say nothing to the police.”

  “Are you bargaining with me?”

  “All I’m trying to do is save our lives. Please, we don’t want to die. We’ve only just retired. We have so many plans for the future—granted, those plans will go out the window once you take the money in the safe, but I’m willing to sacrifice our hard-earned cash in order to save our lives.”

  He threw the roll of tape at the man. “Tear a strip off and place it around your mouth and the back of your head.”

  “Please, there’s no need for this. My wife and I are sensible people, we won’t cause you any trouble, I promise you.”

  “That’s as may be. Do it, now! I haven’t got all night.”

  “Laurence? Is that you? Who are you speaking to?”

  “It’s all right, Tina. I just turned the TV up by mistake, love.”

  “Be more careful next time,” his wife called back.