A Tapping at My Door: A Gripping Serial Killer Thriller (The DS Nathan Cody Series) (32 page)

Cody doesn’t need to look. He feels the pain, the loss of his flesh and bone. He knew what was coming next and he had accepted it. Jeff hasn’t reached that point yet. There is still a chance for him. The longer that Waldo remains preoccupied with Cody, the greater the possibility of fellow officers getting to the scene before Vance becomes the next victim. Those are the stark and clinical terms in which Cody views it, and Vance is about to mess it all up.

Vance turns his attention back to Waldo. Tosses out a few more choice nuggets of confidential information. Waldo is captivated now. He shuffles inexorably towards Vance, and although Cody can no longer see the clown’s eyes, he knows they are gleaming with anticipation.

‘Jeff! Enough! He’s not listening to you. You’re just making yourself a target. For the love of God, stop!’

The words reach home, then. Finally, they sink in. Vance’s gaze switches back and forth between Cody and Waldo. Conviction gives way to uncertainty, then fear, then abject terror. He stares up at the figure looming over him, takes in the gruesome smile, realises what he has brought down on himself. His mouth, previously so exercised, now simply quivers without sound.

Waldo lets the loppers fall to the ground with a clatter. He stands for a while, studying his prey, then reaches under his blue boiler suit and produces his next prop.

A knife. A big bastard of a knife. Seven- or eight-inch blade, wide and shiny and bellowing its sharpness. Something that belongs in the hands of an expert chef.

‘No,’ says Cody. ‘He’s talking crap. Don’t listen to him. Leave him alone.’

But Waldo seems oblivious to Cody now. His focus is entirely on Vance. He steps closer to his new victim. Closer.

‘No. Please. Leave him. Please.’

But it’s done. In Waldo’s head the decision is made, the act is irrevocable. Cody knows this, and can only watch, only listen, even though he finds himself wishing his own eyes and ears could be ripped from his skull.

What he witnesses is worse than anything he could have imagined, and at times seems beyond belief. An ordeal that seems to last longer and to be more terrible than any of the torments of hell envisaged by all those famous artists and writers of so long ago.

And Cody knows even then that, should he survive this, he will never be the same man again.

41

He is sobbing again now. It’s difficult to drag air into his lungs. Webley is hugging him, stroking him, whispering calming words to him. And she is crying too. She tells him what a poor, poor thing he is, and that it’s over now. It’s all over.

Except it’s not over. He lives with the images and the sounds constantly. They run around his brain at all times of the day and night.

He has to tell her, has to finish the story.

‘They . . . they . . . they cut his fucking face off.’

He sees her shock, but there is no way of playing this down.

‘While he was alive. Jeff sat there in the chair, crying and pleading while that insane clown sliced the face from his skull. It was the worst thing I have ever seen in my whole life. And I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t move. Nothing I said was making any difference. How could they do that, Megan? How could one human being do that to another?’

Webley has her hand to her mouth again, looking as if she is ready to vomit. It is some time before she can bring herself to speak again.

‘Oh my dear God. What happened to him, to Jeff?’

‘It was too much for him. He died. Heart attack. And you know what? Terrible as it might sound, I think he would have welcomed it. God knows what they would have done to him next.’

She takes this in, tries to come to terms with it.

‘And then? Didn’t they turn on you again?’

‘They were about to. Waldo picked up the loppers again. After what they’d just done to Jeff, I knew there was no hope for me. And that’s when it happened. Backup finally arrived. I heard the sirens I’d been praying for. A little late for Jeff, but at least they saved me. I thought Waldo would just finish me off then, but he didn’t. He bent forward and stared into my eyes, then he blew me a kiss and got out of there. He didn’t even seem in a hurry, like he wasn’t worried about being caught at all.’

‘Did they ever catch them?’

Cody shakes his head. ‘Not as far as I’m aware. Waldo and his cronies are still out there somewhere.’

‘That’s a scary thought.’

‘Tell me about it.’

She studies his face for a moment, then slips to the floor. She traces a finger over the scar tissue on his right foot.

‘Does it hurt?’

‘Not physically.’ He taps his temple. ‘Not sure about up here, though.’

She smiles at him. ‘You were never right up there, Cody. Seriously, though, you’ve got to do something about it. Your behaviour is all over the place. You’re becoming a danger to yourself and to others. Didn’t you get counselling, after what happened?’

‘I had a psychological assessment. I told them I was okay.’

‘Cody—’

‘And actually, I was okay then. I felt a little numb about things, and I had nightmares, but other than that I didn’t feel too bad. The psychologist told me there is sometimes a delayed reaction when it comes to traumatic events. She said it could be weeks or months before it really hit me.’

‘And that’s what happened?’

‘Yes. My sleep pattern became even more disturbed. The nightmares got worse. Sometimes I would hallucinate. I started getting angry at the most trivial of things. One time, I hit a guy for jumping into a parking space I was about to take.’

‘What about Devon? Did you take it out on her, too?’

Cody goes silent. He knew this question was coming, but he’s still not sure how to answer it.

‘Cody?’

‘I, er, yeah, I did.’

‘Cody.’

‘Okay. If you want the truth, I tried to kill her.’

‘You did what?’

He finds it hard to believe he’s just told her this. He’s never mentioned it to anybody before now.

‘We were in bed. It was the middle of the night. I woke up, feeling that something was very wrong. My hands were clammy and my heart was going like the clappers. I turned to look at Devon. It was almost pitch black in there. All I could see was a vague outline. My brain filled in the rest. It told me it was Waldo lying next to me.’

‘Oh, shit.’

‘Yeah. I lost it. I went for Waldo. I put my hands around his throat. I was going to choke him to death, and nothing was going to stop me.’

‘Cody, please tell me that something
did
stop you.’

‘She struggled. We fell out of bed. She started screaming at me. That’s when I realised it wasn’t Waldo.’

Webley is silent while she tries to get her head around this information.

‘Shit, Cody. That’s . . . that’s awful.’

‘She kicked me out the same day. She’d been going on at me for ages to get help. This was the final straw. She couldn’t live with me the way I was, and I don’t blame her.’

‘So, why not just get help? Why allow it to destroy your relationship? I don’t understand the logic.’

‘Because I can’t risk it, Megan.’

‘Risk what?’

‘Losing my job. I can’t have some quack saying I’m unfit for work. It’s all I’ve got left.’

‘They won’t sack you. They’ll get you the proper treatment.’

‘They won’t let me do what I’m doing now, though. Not until I’m fixed, and who knows how long that could take? At best they’ll stick me behind a desk. At worst they’ll suspend me. I can’t cope with that.’

‘You don’t have to see a police shrink. Go to your GP. Get a referral. Go private if you have to.’

He shakes his head. ‘Not that easy. We’re supposed to be mentally and physically fit for police duties. If I get diagnosed with a mental health problem, I’m under an obligation to disclose it to the force. And if I don’t, they’ll find out anyway, and I’ll be sacked on the spot.’

‘Why will they find out?’

‘Come on, Megan. Every case of ours that gets to court leads to some hotshot defence lawyer looking into the background of the officers involved for a reason to get the case dismissed. And then there are people like Dobby on my back, constantly looking for stuff to write about me. No way could I keep it under wraps. Far as I’m concerned, if it’s not diagnosed, then I haven’t got it, and nobody can say otherwise.’

‘I see. The old head in the sand approach. Fat lot of good that’s done you, Cody. You’ve lost your fiancée because of it. Was that really a price worth paying?’

‘It wasn’t an either–or, Megan. If I’d been unable to carry on doing the work I love, Devon and I wouldn’t have lasted anyway. At least this way, there’s still hope. Maybe she’ll have me back when this is all over.’

Webley gets to her feet. Goes and sits back on the sofa.

‘How, Cody? How is it going to get any better if you don’t do something about it?’

‘I don’t know. They say time is the great healer, don’t they? And there’s one other possibility.’

‘What’s that?’

Cody gestures towards his mutilated feet. ‘They catch the bastards who did this to me. If I had that, if I knew they were behind bars for the rest of their miserable lives, unable to hurt anyone else, then I really believe my problems would disappear.’

‘And how likely do you think that is?’

He shrugs. ‘Not very. But stranger things have happened.’

‘And if it gets worse? If you go completely off the rails?’

‘Then I’ll lose my job anyway. I just have to hope that doesn’t happen.’

She nods. Checks her watch. ‘I’d better go home. We’ve got work in the morning. Both of us.’

He says, ‘Megan, about that favour. The one that keeps growing . . .’

‘I know. You don’t have to say it. It just got a million times bigger, right?’

‘What I’ve just told you – about the way it’s affected me, I mean – nobody else knows about it. Nobody. You mustn’t tell anyone. I’m not even sure why I told you.’

‘Come off it, Cody. Do you really think you had a chance of keeping it from me?’

‘Not really.’

She stands up. ‘I left my stuff in your kitchen.’

He leads her back there. She picks up her bag, rummages around in it, brings out her phone.

‘Damn!’

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Parker’s been trying to get hold of me for the past hour. Listen, I’ve really got to go.’

‘No problem. I’ll take you downstairs.’

He escorts her to the front door.

‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘For everything.’

She gives him a hug, and a peck on the cheek.

‘Take care of yourself, Cody.’

Then she flies out of the door.

As she disappears into the night, Cody realises it’s the first time he’s allowed anyone else into his apartment.

And certainly the first time since Devon that he’s allowed anyone into his life.

42

He wonders where Webley is.

Despite the beer, he got a good night’s sleep. Best he’s had in a long time, actually. He reckons that it probably had something to do with his opening up to Webley. Maybe he should start paying her to act as his therapist.

At his desk now, he finds it hard to concentrate. Webley is too keen to be late like this.

She flies in a few minutes later, obviously aware that she’s not punctual. She looks harried, and perhaps in need of a bit more sleep herself.

Cody watches her, hoping to catch her eye. But for some reason she seems determined not to look his way. When she finally relents, and he shines a smile at her, she declines to reflect any warmth.

Cody turns back to his work, but again fails to engage with it. He starts replaying the events of last night, trying to analyse where things might have gone wrong. Did he say or do something out of line? Should he have kept his problems to himself after all?

Half an hour later, he hears Webley on the phone.

‘Yes,’ she is saying, ‘I know you don’t live near to Hoylake police station, but your car was seen in the area and . . . What? No, we’re not being intrusive at all. This is a murder inquiry, and we’re just trying to eliminate . . . No, we haven’t got the number plate wrong because it was caught on camera. Now if you could just tell me what you were . . . Look, you’re going to have to account for your movements one way or another. I’m trying to make this easy for you . . . Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, I’m sending a car round to pick you up and drag you into the police station . . . Yeah, well, same to you!’

She slams the phone down. Says, ‘For fuck’s sake!’ Gets up and storms out of the room.

Cody watches her go. When the door closes, his eyes shift to Ferguson, who indicates his puzzlement with a shrug.

Cody leaves his desk and goes after her. He sees her striding down the corridor like she’s on a mission to throttle someone.

‘Megan,’ he calls, but she doesn’t slow down.

He has to break into a jog to catch up with her. When he gets in front of her, he sees the wetness in her eyes, the redness in her cheeks.

‘Megan, wait. What’s wrong?’

She halts then. Flips him the finger. Except that it’s not the middle digit. This is her ring finger. Without a ring.

‘That’s what’s wrong.’

She starts marching off again. Cody overtakes.

‘Wait. Talk to me. In here.’

He opens up the door to an interview room. Bundles her inside.

‘What are you doing, Cody? I don’t need to be interrogated right now. And those cameras had better be switched off.’

‘They’re off. Now calm down and tell me what the hell’s going on.’

‘Nothing’s going on. My engagement isn’t going on. My wedding won’t be going on. And it’s all your fault.’

‘My fault? Why is it my fault?’

‘Because you had to go and be more in need of my company last night than Parker did. Or at least that’s what I thought. Turns out, though, that Parker was very much in need of my company. So much so that he turned up at my house after work. So much so that he tried ringing me, and then texting me, and then panicking about me. Only I didn’t know all this because I was too busy listening to your bloody problems.’

‘Well . . . it’s nice, though. That he was worried about you, I mean.’

She stares at him like he’s just landed from space.