by Linda Coles
The answer came a lot sooner than she thought it would, long before she got back to Oakwood Rise. Madeline smiled with satisfaction, indicated, and turned the car back in the direction she needed to go. She stopped at a petrol station along the way for a bottle of water and a bar of chocolate. Then she called Gordon and told him she was staying out with the others just a while longer, and not to wait up. One more white lie wouldn’t hurt. She carried on with her journey – back to Grey Man’s road.
Madeline was going on a stakeout.
Fifteen minutes later she was parked down Sanderson Road and watching what she remembered to be Grey Man’s house. Funnily enough, the old blue car was still sitting in exactly in the same spot, and she sniggered because she’d won that one too. She’d managed to keep that death trap off the road – her little “fuel injection” had probably clogged his engine very nicely. Madeline high-fived herself mentally, though she knew she shouldn’t be doing so – Ruth would certainly be disappointed if she saw her celebrating. She took a swig from the water bottle and settled down to wait. Who knew if she’d even see anything. Maybe she’d just fall asleep with boredom.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Bill Winters looked like a dirty old pervert. But then he was one.
With his long grey coat and unstylish hat, he knew he’d blend in. His natural appearance was so perfectly nondescript: no one would give him a second look. There was nothing remarkable about him, literally, and that’s just the way he wanted it to be. He was invisible to everyone.
With his coat sleeves covering the cigarette burn scars on both his arms, he’d got used to being hot, the sickly-sweet onion smell of stale body odour repelling people and keeping anyone from getting too close to him. He knew he repulsed the locals he came into contact with: he’d seen it on their faces, seen their wrinkled noses, though they’d stopped noticing him at all now. And that’s the way he wanted it to stay. To blend in. To hardly exist.
But he had certain needs, needs that couldn’t be fulfilled conventionally, and he’d found another way to satisfy his cravings. That’s what made him a pervert. He took what he wanted, whenever he got the urge. No matter what.
Ready to go, he opened the front door and went out into the warm evening dusk – in search of some relief. A dog barked in the distance. It must have known he was coming.
Chapter Seventy
Biting into her chocolate bar, Madeline wondered if she’d have felt more in stakeout mode with doughnuts instead. CSI style. As it happened, only thirty minutes later she saw movement from his house: the front door opened and a figure walked down the path. He wore the long coat she’d seen him wear before, and a hat – totally the wrong clothing for a warm summer evening, even at 10 pm.
After letting him walk a little way down the road, she quietly opened her car door, grabbed her mobile and set off in pursuit on foot, though keeping well back. All she planned on doing was to follow him from a distance, see where he went and what he was up to. It was possible she had it all wrong, though she was pretty sure she didn’t.
It must have been twenty minutes later when they both turned into a park area. The night was fully dark now apart from the moonlight and the orange glow from a few street lamps. The darkness and the trees gave her some cover. He wasn’t far ahead of her, and she kept him in her sights while she scanned the rest of the park as best she could in the light available. This late, Madeline assumed they would be on their own, but just in the distance and over to the right she saw a small white poodle taking a walk before bedtime with its owner, who appeared to have the gait of a woman.
“Who the hell is that out here at this hour? Silly woman,” she whispered to herself. “Is she stupid or what?”
Shush, Madeline!
Grey Man, in front of her, had stopped walking, and Madeline was thankful for a nearby bush to dart behind. Through the branches she could see him looking in the direction of the poodle and its owner. Her heart raced as she realised what might be about to happen. Suddenly this all felt a bit too real. With her heart pounding in her ears, she quickly pulled out her phone and texted Ruth, saying where she was and what she was seeing. Surely Ruth would know what to do. Madeline was sure she could distract him should she need to, and she wouldn’t get the police involved until she was absolutely sure there was a problem.
The ‘woosh’ of the text being sent reminded her to turn her phone to silent. She thumbed the button down and stayed still behind the bush. Nothing was happening. She and Grey Man both stood stock still in their respective places, one hidden, one not.
A moment later, Ruth’s text landed.
Don’t be stupid. Keep clear! Amanda and I are on our way!
“Shit,” she thought miserably. “What did you tell her for? Now I’ve got some bloody explaining to do. Shit. Shit. Shit!”
Then suddenly there was movement up ahead: Grey Man was on the move. No time to text back a response to Ruth. Madeline jammed the phone back in her pocket, crept out from behind the leafy camouflage and tailed him from a distance again. They were both in a wide-open space now, and Madeline had nothing for cover. But Grey Man was not looking at anything or anyone except the poodle woman, who was headed for the old toilet block.
“At this hour?” thought Madeline incredulously. “In the dark? Really? She must be desperate or stupid, or both.”
Hanging back as far as she dared, she watched as the woman crouched and tied her dog just outside, under a single light fixed to the corner of the building. As she stood again and passed under the full light to go inside, Madeline recognised who it was. Her eyes widened in horror.
“Oh dear Lord. Holy hell.”
She watched as the woman went into the toilets, followed a few moments later by Grey Man. No, there was no time to wait for Ruth and Amanda: she needed to do something now. Madeline covered the distance as fast as she could; her injured arm in its sling made running awkward.
She flung open the main door and yelled the woman’s name.
Grey Man whirled around, startled, and at the same time the middle cubicle door opened. Lorna looked right at Madeline, her face a mask of fear and confusion.
And then she spotted Grey Man.
Chapter Seventy-One
Ruth shrieked. “What the hell?”
Amanda looked at Ruth and stopped her biscuit halfway to her mouth. “What’s the matter?”
“Come on – we’ve got to go. I’ll tell you on the way.”
Perplexed, Amanda set her mug of tea on the little table and started to get up.
“Hurry!” Ruth shouted. She grabbed her car keys and ran out of the front door. Amanda followed her at a trot, wondering what the hell was going on and where they were going at almost 10.15 at night. She pulled the front door shut behind her and jumped into Ruth’s car, not quite closing the car door before Ruth took off like a maniac down Richmond Road.
“Are you going to fill me in on what’s going on or do I have to guess?”
“I’ll tell you the whole story later but right now, my stepmum is in trouble and I think we might need police backup. Can you get backup out to Wandle Park? I think she’s gone after the groper guy.”
Amanda’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “She’s what? How do you know that – and how does she know? And who is she?”
There were too many questions to choose from, so Ruth took the easiest.
“She just texted me to say she was following him. Being a stupid hero or something, but either way she’s out there with him and she’s on her own. She needs help, Amanda – can you organise something?”
Amanda yanked out her mobile to phone the situation through, and then she phoned Jack, who said he’d meet them there. She relayed the message to Ruth, who felt only a little easier that help was on its way; she just hoped she could get there in time.
“Hang on, Madeline. Hang on,” she said to herself.
Chapter Seventy-Two
“Hey, what are you doing in here?” Lorna demanded. “This is the l
adies.” The grey-clad man standing by the basins like a deer in the headlights said nothing. She turned to her friend.
“Madeline? What’s going on? Was that you shouting at me just now?”
Madeline was out of breath but managed to nod yes, it was.
“But I don’t understand. What are you doing here, and who is this?” She flung a hand towards Grey Man, who still hadn’t moved. Madeline was between him and the door, and he – quite rightly – assumed she’d tear his legs off if he budged.
“This,” Madeline said, pointing to Grey Man, “is the pervert attacker, and he had his sights set on you.” Her breathing was starting to slow but she was full of adrenalin. She went on, “He lives just on Sanderson Road and I followed him tonight to see if my suspicions were correct.” Madeline looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “And I guess they were. I would have poisoned you far worse had I known back then, you filthy sodding pervert!”
He just looked at her as though she’d gone mad, but then the penny dropped and he registered where he knew her from – and what she’d done to him.
“That was you?” He sounded incredulous. She could see his mind working hard to process what she’d just said.
“Yes, that was me, you miserable excuse for a man, and now we’ve got you trapped. The police are on their way.” Madeline really hoped they were because how could two women, one with her arm in a sling, hold on to one pissed-off man? Alas, there was no sound of any police cars coming to the rescue.
Why exactly did I text Ruth instead of phoning the police? To save my own ample arse, that’s why. Idiot!
For a moment the three of them stood still, a peculiar little tableau lit by the single ceiling bulb. Grey Man was the first to react. He made a go of pushing past Madeline, but the adrenalin pumping round her veins gave her a strength she didn’t know she had. Even with one arm in a sling her legs worked fine, and she stuck one out to trip him up. He stumbled but didn’t go all the way down, grabbing at the toilet door handle behind him to steady himself. Like a trapped animal, he turned and lunged at her unexpectedly, snarling like a rabid dog, and she stepped backwards, away from his grasp. Her feet lost their traction on the damp tiled floor and, with only one good arm to save herself, she went down like a sack of flour.
She heard a high-pitched scream from Lorna, saw the light from the bulb overhead, and then saw a shocking constellation of stars as her head caught the edge of the porcelain hand basin with a sickening crack. Down she went, hard, stopping absolutely still on the dirty cold tiled floor. Darkness enveloped her. Madeline could do no more.
Chapter Seventy-Three
The atmosphere in the car was as thick as fog as Ruth sped along the empty road. She knew there’d be plenty of questions later, but right now Madeline needed her help and there was no time for discussion. They were only a couple of minutes away when, somewhere in the near distance, she heard the first siren as a police car made its way to the park to meet them.
“Which part of the park? Any idea?” asked Amanda.
“She didn’t say.”
“Well, I’m hazarding a guess that, if it’s him, he’ll be headed to the toilet blocks, so let’s start there. Though you’ll be sitting in the car and letting the police do their job. It’s too dangerous for you.”
“Like hell I’m staying in the car,” squawked Ruth. “That’s my stepmum out there!” She roared into the car park, sending gravel flying in all directions.
“Keep driving – go over the damn grass! It’s over there,” instructed Amanda, pointing. “No point trying to run.”
Ruth didn’t need to be told twice. She jammed her foot to the floor, speeding across the hard ground and towards the light of the toilet block. The only thing she could see in the distance as they approached was a little white poodle tied up outside. Over the other side of the park, she could see red and blue flashing lights through the trees.
She braked to a standstill outside the toilets and jumped from the car with Amanda close on her heels and calling at her to stop. She ignored her. She could hear crying sounds coming from inside the small building, and as she flew round the open doorway, she stopped short and gasped. Madeline was lying on the floor, thick dark blood pooling around her head. A woman was kneeling over her, crying hard and willing her to wake up. Ruth stood frozen and in shock, and it was Amanda who pushed past her and took over to assess the situation.
She knelt beside Madeline and felt her neck for a pulse, calling out her name softly as she did so. She could hear Jack behind her now, calling for an ambulance, but Amanda knew it was too late. Madeline’s body was still and silent. She was gone.
She turned to Ruth and gently shook her head, acknowledging that Madeline, her stepmum, was dead. Ruth sank to her knees on the hard, tiled floor and took Madeline’s lifeless hand in her own. Amanda stroked her head as a wail, more animal than human, came from Ruth’s throat.
Jack finished his call and took charge. This was now a crime scene. He left Ruth with Amanda, and steered Lorna away and outside as best he could. The poor woman was almost hysterical. Once they were outside, Lorna untied her poodle and clutched it to her chest. Gently, Jack asked her just what had happened.
“I was out walking Bubbles before bedtime as usual,” she sobbed, “and I needed to use the ladies and then I heard someone call my name, and then a commotion outside the toilet door.” Fat tears ran down her cheeks, and she stroked the dog’s head.
Jack looked up from writing in his notebook and tried to soothe and coax her on at the same time.
“Go on,” he encouraged. “What happened next?”
“I opened the toilet door and there was Madeline, and then I noticed a man in there too and then it all got so confusing.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand, smearing her mascara. Jack handed her his handkerchief, and she dabbed her cheeks and blew her nose into it loudly.
“Can you tell me what this man looked like? Did you see where he went?”
“I didn’t see where he went,” she said, snuffling, “but he was about my height, had a hat on and wore a long coat, almost like a disguise.” She looked into the distance as though searching for the answer on a nearby bush, then turned back to Jack. A little more calmy, she added, “Madeline said he was that groper guy and he had his sights set on me. He must have been following me.” She shuddered, so Jack took his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. Another siren could be heard getting closer. The ambulance, though far too late, would be arriving soon.
“And what happened next?”
“She said something about how she’d poisoned him, and he got very angry and lunged at her but she slipped. There was such a thud; I remember that bit very clearly. When she fell he just ran off. I didn’t know what to do!”
Her tears started up again and she cried quietly into the handkerchief, wiping her eyes occasionally. The cloth was now smeary grey in places.
“I wanted to help Madeline,” she continued, “so I stayed here, and then I heard you arrive. I didn’t want to leave her. I hoped she’d come round but she didn’t.”
A moment or two passed and Jack waited for her to gather herself again. When she finally did, she asked, “Do you think you’ll catch him?”
“I hope so, and now we are looking at homicide rather than just sexual assault charges, so it’s suddenly got a whole lot more serious for him, and for us. We have officers circulating his description now. He can’t have got too far on foot from here.”
Lorna remembered something else Madeline had said and brightened. “I think I know where he lives!” She was almost jubilant. “Madeline said he lived on Sanderson Road, though I don’t know what number. She’d followed him here, and then saw him following me, I think.”
Jack scribbled down the street name then gave it to another officer to do the necessary and find the house number. Quickly. He doubted the man was there now, not if he had any sense, but you never knew.
He thanked Lorna and asked if there was anything else
she could remember and she shook her head no. She was shivering with a vengeance now. The shock of what had just happened, how close she’d come to being attacked, and having witnessed Madeline’s death were simply too much for her.
Jack looked up to see Amanda coming out of the building, her arms around Ruth, who was silent and also obviously in shock. Behind him, Jack heard the ambulance pull up and its doors open. He walked over to the crew and quietly informed them of the gravity of the situation. While they could help both Lorna and Ruth somewhat, for Madeline, sadly, it was too late.
They were once again dealing with a crime scene, a death, but this time it was Madeline Simpson herself.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Ruth sat in the back of the ambulance alongside Lorna; each was wrapped in a blanket. It was a summer night, but the shock they had both experienced had chilled them to the marrow. Lorna’s teeth occasionally rattled as she shivered uncontrollably, and Ruth sat totally mute. Madeline was gone, and as she lay there on the cold tiled floor, the crime technicians went about their work, the painstaking job of gathering evidence of what exactly had happened that evening.
“I wish I could cover her up or something,” Ruth said quietly. “It’s not a place I want her to be. I wish they would hurry up and lift her somewhere more comfortable.” She knew her words were futile, but she wanted more for her stepmum.
“I know what you mean. I feel the same,” said Lorna. “I expect they will bring her out soon. I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe what’s happened.” Her voice trailed off with the light breeze, but Ruth was barely listening anyway. Her thoughts had drifted to how she was going to tell her dad. Gordon was going to be devastated; he and Madeline were rarely apart as a couple for any length of time. She wasn’t looking forward to telling him but she’d have to find the strength somehow. He had to know soon; he’d be wondering where she was.