The Stalker's Song

by Georgia Brown

  Despite myself, I laughed. ‘Is this what we’ve been reduced to? Playing scrabble during the day? Whatever happened to studying and running a business?’

  It was three and a half weeks since we’d had to move to the safe house, and it was purgatory. Our lives were on hold. We were incommunicado and felt cut off from everything to do with our normal day to day lives. Added to that, we were trying to come to terms with, and deal with, everything that had happened. To be fair, we were receiving a lot of support, from the doctor, psychiatrist, the new Family Liaison Officer and Victim Support counsellor. Without them, we’d be in real trouble.

  In the past, I’d hardly had a cross word with Julia, but since we’d been incarcerated in this house, we were having screaming matches and more than once we nearly came to blows. The most trivial thing could set either of us off. Just the other morning, Julia had used my hairdryer and failed to put it back in my bedroom. The furious and totally unjustified reaction that had evoked from me when, with dripping hair, I couldn’t find my dryer, was akin to road rage.

  ‘You selfish little bitch!’ I’d screamed at her. ‘Typical. No thought for anyone but yourself. Don’t borrow my things if you bloody well can’t be arsed to put them back.’ I’d caught sight of myself in a mirror, as I was screaming at her, brandishing the hair dryer aloft, and was shocked at the twisted fury on my face.

  What on earth was happening to us? Fiona was a gem, as always, but I think the strain of it all was getting to her too. Her usual bouncy optimism was missing these days and, as her tan faded, she looked increasingly pale and drawn.

  I didn’t want Julia to see the tears that I constantly felt perilously close to shedding. All I wanted to do was hide under the duvet, curl up in a ball, and weep. I felt so worthless. Despite remembering what Dr Quayle had instilled in me - that it was not my fault in any way that I’d been raped - I did feel a deep sense of guilt. Had I invited it in any way? What was it about me that made him target me? Did I unknowingly encourage him in any way? Was there anything I could have done to prevent it? What did I do to bring such danger, not only to myself, but to my beloved Peter and Julia and my dearest friend, Pauline? It was all a bitter price to pay for my forgotten two minutes of fame. Whenever I thought about what he said he was going to do to Julia, I went cold. If I hadn’t managed to get away from him... I couldn’t bear to think about what he would have done to my precious daughter. Oh why the hell can’t they find him? Where is he? Is he nearby? I was going out of my mind with worry, fear and frustration.

  I was torn. If I only had myself to think about, I would take my chances and move back to my house. With sensible security precautions, maybe even hiring a bodyguard, I would have felt reasonably safe from Green. But, I couldn’t take a chance on him getting to Julia. No, all things considered, despite the fact that it was driving us mad, we had to stay in the depressing safe house, until he was caught. If only it would happen soon.

  Kia, was helpful, but she wasn’t Gayle, whom I’d become very fond of. Despite Kia’s best efforts, we just couldn’t establish the same rapport, and I missed Gayle... I felt myself beginning to tear up again.

  ‘Come on, Mum, snap out of it. We’re playing scrabble. Either that, or a walk on the beach. But it’s freezing and chucking it down, so I think Scrabble wins, don’t you?’

  Julia set up the board and, after each taking our seven tiles, we drew a further tile each, to decide who would start. I picked an ‘A’, so went first. My heart wasn’t in it, but for once Fiona and Julia were in light-hearted mood and there was plenty of joking and innuendo.

  ‘Is there such a word as ‘wank’? Fiona asked. Julia laughed, but it turned out to be a valid word, and as Fiona put the K on a double letter square, and a triple word square was included, she got a score of 45.

  ‘Wow,’ said Julia, ‘Who’d have thought a wank was worth so much?’

  Despite myself, I laughed. Normally I would have told Julia not to be so crude, but these were not normal times.

  We were interrupted by the doorbell chiming and looked at each other nervously. Although we knew there was no way Justin Green could find us there, nevertheless we were always fearful.

  ‘I’ll go,’ I said. ‘It’s probably Kia.’ I went to the heavily-locked door and peered through the spyhole.

  ‘It’s Gayle,’ I shouted in disbelief, then quickly unlocked and opened the door. ‘Gayle. How lovely to see you.’ I impulsively hugged her.

  ‘I have news, she announced,’ as we both walked into the sitting room, where Julia and Fiona looked just as surprised to see her as I had. They both jumped up and welcomed her like an old friend, with hugs all round.

  ‘I didn’t think you were allowed to come here?’ Julia said.

  ‘Well, normally, I wouldn’t be. But there’s been a development.’ She grimaced. ‘I think we should all sit down. How are you all doing?’ she asked.

  ‘Never mind how we’re doing, Gayle. Get on with it. We’re dying to hear about this new development,’ I said impatiently. I was tingling with anticipation; hoping it was good news, but scared in case it was bad.

  ‘Well, there are two major developments. Firstly, I have to tell you that we’ve found Justin Green. Or rather, his body. He’s dead.’

  ‘His body?’ I was astonished. ‘He’s dead? But how...?’ I hadn’t yet started to feel the relief that would kick in later. It was such a shock.

  ‘His body was found in his car, hidden in Kielder Forest. The post mortem shows that he died from the wound to his eye...’

  I interrupted. ‘What...? I killed him? But how... how could he get to Kielder?’

  ‘Let me tell you what happened, and I’ll answer your questions later’ she said, raising her hand.

  Gayle went on to tell us what had happened, from the young lovers finding the car in Kielder Forest, to the results of the post mortem.

  ‘Without treatment, he couldn’t possibly have survived,’ explained Gayle. ‘But he was able to function for a period of time. Piecing the picture together, after you got away from him, we think he drove his car back to the cottage, packed a few things and headed north. According to the coroner, he would have felt progressively unwell and his vision would have gradually worsened. We think he found a secluded place to stop and rest, keeping the car out of sight, possibly not realising that he was dying.’

  I began to feel the tension drain away from my body. We were free. He couldn’t get to us any more. I looked at Julia, whose mouth was hanging open.

  ‘We’re safe. Oh, thank God. We’re all safe.’ I shouted jubilantly.

  They both looked shocked at Gayle’s news but were soon smiling with relief. Julia started jumping up and down with excitement, clapping her hands and chanting ‘We’re safe. We’re safe. We can go home.’

  ‘What about Pauline?’ I asked quietly. ‘Was she still in the boot?’

  Gayle nodded. ‘Yes, her body was still there. The post mortem showed she died of a massive brain haemorrhage following a blow to the back of the head. The pathologist said death was instantaneous; she won’t have suffered at all.’

  ‘Thank God for small mercies. How’s Charlie? I feel terrible that I haven’t been allowed to contact him.’

  ‘Well, I think now he has Pauline’s body to bury, he’s coping a bit better. And the fact that she didn’t suffer is a big comfort to him. He does understand why you haven’t been able to get in touch. But, in any case, all that will change now. It’s over.’

  Julia, still jumping around the place, wrapped her arms around me. ‘Oh, Mum, we’re free. We can go home.’

  Fiona joined in the hug, ‘Group hug.’ she shouted. ‘Thank God, Thank God. Thank God.’

  Gayle watched us, a look of tenderness on her face, if I wasn’t mistaken. Then, she clapped her hands, before ushering us towards the stairs. ‘Right. Pack your things. I’m taking you all home.’

  Throwing clothes into a suitcase in my bedroom a few minutes later,
I had a chance to talk quietly with Gayle, who was sitting on my bed, watching me. ‘I’m glad he’s dead,’ I told her. ‘He didn’t deserve to live. I’m glad I killed him. I know I would never ever have been able to forgive him. Some people are evil through and through and he’s one of them.’

  ‘I can’t disagree with that sentiment. Now, come on,’ she said, rising from the bed and opening a drawer, ‘I’ll help you get the rest of your things together. Time to go home.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  Home. We were home at last, and it was so good to be free of the huge cloud of fear that had hung over us for so long. Relief was mixed with apprehension about how we would cope with the future.

  Gayle came to see me a couple of days after we’d settled back in. ‘I wanted to let you know. Green’s half-brother has been charged with perverting the course of justice by giving Green a false alibi in a murder case five years ago. Green’s DNA taken from the cottage, matches that found at the murder scene in London, when a young girl was raped and murdered. Without the alibi, Green would have been found out then, and you would have been spared all this.’

  ‘If only,’ Julia whispered.

  ‘He’s got a lot to answer for,’ Gayle said. ‘If he hadn’t pretended to be Justin Green when Tim called, none of this would have happened. And Pauline would be alive. He’s as bad as his brother. He’ll pay for it now.’

  Over the next few days, Julia and I made some decisions. She agreed to go back to University in a couple of weeks, at my insistence. The only way to put all this behind her is for her to get on with her life. Resume her studies, have fun with her friends. She told me she’s not seeing her boyfriend any more, but she wouldn’t be drawn on why. I expect there’ll soon be another on the horizon. It won’t be easy for her to carry on as normal, and she’ll continue to need counselling and support for some time, but it will be a good start for her to try to get back to her normal life.

  They’re re-opening the inquest on Peter, soon, and the verdict will be changed to one of murder. Just for the records. Nothing will bring Peter back. When I told Tim, that Green had murdered Peter, he was incandescent with rage and I think if he’d been able to get his hands on Green at that moment, he would probably have killed him. After he calmed down, he told me he’d always been puzzled by Peter’s fall, knowing what a competent climber he was. Now things made terrible sense to him.

  Tim took a long time to forgive himself for not sussing out that the person who’d answered the door to him at Dan Smithson’s flat, was in fact ‘Smithson’s’ half-brother, Rob Wilkinson. Rob told the police that he’d done as his brother asked, and pretended to be him when the landlord’s agent knocked at the door. He’d done so, with no questions asked, in order not to jeopardise a twenty grand loan his brother had agreed to give him. Justin Green had looked out of a window and spotted Tim at the door. Not wanting Tim to recognise him, he persuaded his brother to answer the door and masquerade as him.

  As for me, I’m determined not to live as a victim. I’ve decided that I will learn to live with the memories. The mental scars will fade over time and eventually become barely visible. I refuse to dwell on events or let them dominate me and spoil the rest of my life. I know that I will continue to need help, probably for quite some time, but I also know I’ll beat these feelings of wretchedness that ambush me when I least expect it.

  The mind is a funny thing. At first, when I learned that I had killed Green, I was glad. But within a couple of days, I began to have nightmares. I see myself stabbing the stick into his eye and I see him lying on the back seat of his car, writhing in agony. Dying the most horrific death. My heart feels heavy with the guilt of knowing that I have killed a man, no matter how much I tell myself that he deserved to die. Nothing eases the heaviness inside me, and those feelings, added to everything else that happened, makes me a complex case for the psychiatrists and counsellors.

  Simon came over from Barbados for a few days, and eventually persuaded Fiona to go back with him. She’s just been the best, sticking with me through all of this and she needs a period of calm tranquillity herself. I hope they find it together.

  Charlie came to see me yesterday, but it was a bit awkward. I sense, deep down, he resents me, because it was me who was being stalked, yet I lived and Pauline died. We hugged and cried together and parted on good terms, but, sadly, I don’t think we’ll be keeping in close touch.

  I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about the plight of some women in this country and have decided to set up a trust fund to support a network of Womens’ Refuge Centres in the north of England. To my delight, Linda has agreed to head it up. It will be named Sanctuary and will provide safe places, where frightened women can find shelter from predatory men. According to Gayle, I will be shocked by the demand for safe places, there being no shortage of abusive men in the region. Women, apparently, are violated on a daily basis. I want to help every one of them to be able to say ‘I won’t let him win.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

  (Two Years Later)

  The shrill, insistent ringing of his phone drew Chief Superintendent Jensen reluctantly back into his office with a groan of frustration. He was just about to escape for the weekend and was almost out of the door, when the bloody thing rang.

  ‘Shit,’ he muttered. Turning back, he dumped his coat and briefcase on the desk, and snatched up the receiver, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Call for you sir,’ the receptionist announced. ‘Detective Superintendent Fisher, Dallas, Texas.’

  ‘Texas? Put him on.’

  ‘Detective Superintendent Jensen?’ a voice asked in a Texan drawl.

  ‘Yes, this is Mike Jensen.’

  ‘Hi, Mike. This is Ben Fisher, Detective Super with Dallas Law Enforcement. Got me some interesting news for you. Courtesy of Interpol, we have a DNA match with a felon you had two years ago. The intriguing thing is, you have him as deceased at that time.’

  ‘Really? Who is it?’

  ‘Guy by the name of Justin Green. Don’t know if you remember the case?’

  ‘Green? I remember the case very well. Silly question, but could you be mistaken? Green’s body was identified by his brother and there were other indicators that pointed to it definitely being Justin Green.’

  ‘Sorry. No mistake. I’ll send over the documentation and a photo straight away. You’ll get them on your screen soon.’

  ‘I’d appreciate that. What has this person done over there?’

  ‘Same thing. Rape and murder of a young woman. Her boyfriend walked in on him and gave chase. We had a couple of officers nearby, and between them, they cornered him. Open and shut case.’

  ‘You’ve got the death penalty in Texas, I believe?’

  ‘We sure do. This guy’s gonna get a lethal injection. Guess you guys got some investigating to do over there, to find out who the John Doe is that you burned.’

  ‘Indeed we do. I’ll arrange to send a couple of officers over to interview Green. See if we can find out whose body was found in his car.’

  ‘Sure thing. We’ll give them every assistance.’

  ‘Well, thanks for that, Ben. Much appreciated. Under the circumstances, we won’t be seeking extradition. We’re happy to let you guys deal with him – unless of course he’s found not guilty. Then we’ll have him back over here for trial.’

  ‘Mike, there aint a snowflake’s chance in hell of him getting out of this one. Mark my words, he’ll be on death row in a few months.’

  ‘We’ll follow the trial with great interest.’

  ‘I’m sure you will, Mike. You have a good day now.’

  Mike slowly put the receiver down, before opening his laptop. He picked up the phone again. ‘Ask DCI Mayne and DI Jones to come to my office immediately, please.’ Bloody hell, he thought, gazing at the DNA data in front of him.

  Gayle bumped into Patsy in the corridor, en route to the Super’s office.

  ‘Wonder what this is about?’ she q
ueried, with a grimace. ‘Something tells me my weekend’s up the spout.’

  ‘Come in, come in,’ the Super shouted, impatiently at Gayle’s tentative knock on his door. ‘Come over here,’ he said, indicating his computer on the desk. ‘There’s something I want you both to see.’

  They gathered in front of the blank screen and, after a bit of fiddling with the mouse, the Superintendent brought up a photograph.

  ‘That’s Justin Green,’ Gayle immediately volunteered. ‘Obviously an old photo, from when his hair was dark and he had a beard.’

  ‘This photograph was taken last week.’ He turned and looked from one to the other, ‘In Dallas, Texas.’

  ‘What? But it can’t have been, sir.’

  ‘I’ve just had a call from the Dallas Police Department. They arrested him following the rape and murder of a young woman. Interpol has matched his DNA with that of Justin Green.’

  ‘Christ,’ exclaimed Patsy.

  ‘Couldn’t have put it better myself, Patsy,’ the Superintendent remarked.

  ‘But... his brother ID’d the body. The wound to the eye matched Carol Barrington’s account...’ Gayle was thinking aloud. ‘Pauline’s body was in the boot... Is it possible he inflicted the same wound on someone else? Was he that sick?’

  ‘That’s what I want you two to find out,’ said the Super. ‘And we need to know who the poor sod is that was cremated. Use whoever you need in the office, but not a word to anyone else about this until we know where we are with it. You’ll need to go to Dallas to interview Green.’

  ‘The press will have a field day if they get hold of this,’ said Patsy.

  ‘Yes, I want to keep it as quiet as possible, for as long as we can. I don’t relish the thought of having it splashed all over the papers and social media that the wrong body was burned.’

  ‘Yes sir. Will we extradite him?’

  ‘No. We’ll let the State of Texas try him. They’ve still got the death penalty over there.’