The Killer Inside: A gripping serial killer thriller (Detective Jessica Daniel thriller series Book 1) (22 page)

T
he funeral had been far more
emotional than Jessica had expected. She’d sat next to Caroline, her arm around her for large parts of the ceremony. So many more people had turned out than Jessica would have expected. The marks around Jessica’s throat had already started to fade and the cuts on her face would heal in time. The mental scars her friend must be feeling would take a lot longer to fix.

Jessica hadn’t discovered if it was Harry who had provided the method for Nigel Collins to change his identity; she hadn’t wanted to know. If it were true, part of her personality as a detective – the part she had learned from Harry – would be destroyed. She had not tried to phone him again, nor to visit him, and she never would. Randall’s ‘inside man’ line was chilling. She wasn’t sure if she could take knowing for sure.

The police had steadily filled in the gaps between Nigel Collins leaving hospital nearly six years ago, and the first body turning up.

‘Thank you for coming.’

Jessica was standing with Caroline in the church’s hall, after the body had been put to rest. Paul Keegan was in front of them, offering his hand.

‘Mary would have liked it,’ he added.

‘It was lovely,’ Jessica replied, shaking his hand. ‘Are you going to be okay?’

‘I think so. Thank you… For catching him.’

Randall Anderson, or Nigel Collins, as he had previously been called, was currently in isolation and on suicide watch while on remand at HMP Manchester, formerly known as Strangeways. As he had crouched, struggling for breath on the floor in their flat, Jessica had called 999. An ambulance and what felt like most of the Greater Manchester Police force had been sent to her flat. The paramedics had arrived in time to save him, but he’d been in no state to fight or escape.

Since then, he hadn’t said a word to anyone. Jessica had been offered leave, given her injuries and the severity of the case. She was now a witness, so could no longer be involved in the case as a detective. But Randall hadn’t confessed and had offered no details of how things had been conceived, other than what he had said to Jessica during their struggle. Some of his plan would never be known.

The police had raided both his old flat and the new one. He didn’t seem to own much; what little he had was in boxes at the new place. The old one had been cleaned out. They did find a small coil of thick metal wire in the wheelie bin at the back of the block where he’d lived. Tests had shown that the wire was very similar to the implement used to kill the four victims – the assumption was that he had cut pieces off to use for each murder. The owner of the stall where he’d worked told the police that it was the exact kind of wire they used to help bind together the shoes they were fixing. Two days later, and the bins would have been emptied and the evidence lost. It seemed careless of Randall to have ditched the wire in a bin so close to his flat – but then, from Randall’s point of view, it must have seemed as if he was in the clear.

They still had the difficulty of the lack of DNA evidence at the crime scenes. They hoped that something would turn up from all the samples at Claire’s house – but the trail from the locks to the stall, the wire found in the bins, and Jessica’s evidence should be enough in court.

In terms of Jessica herself, everyone had been so concerned about her that no one had brought up anything about her having followed up a case that wasn’t hers. She didn’t know if there would be some sort of disciplinary down the line, but then again, she didn’t care, either.

Caroline hadn’t coped well. Jessica hadn’t known how to deal with things, and her friend had gone to stay with Jessica’s parents, who saw her as a daughter, for a couple of weeks.

And now, a few weeks later, the two of them were at the wake following Mary Keegan’s funeral, along with many members of the investigating force. Cole had left not long after the ceremony, but Aylesbury was speaking to the dead woman’s husband.

Jessica guided Caroline away towards some plastic seats to leave Aylesbury and Paul Keegan to it. Jessica felt guilty for her previous attitude to her boss. She could see now what an asset he was to the force. He had been terrific in the way he had looked after her following the arrest. His first instinct would have been to interview her and find out everything she knew, but instead, he had shielded her.

Garry Ashford, meanwhile, had written a string of stories about Jessica’s bravery. She didn’t know where the details had come from and felt largely embarrassed about it. Garry had been at the funeral, a few rows across from Jessica. She had seen his solemn face during the readings, and had reflected on the fact that he was someone else she had misjudged.

Caroline sat, and Jessica went to take the seat next to her. Her friend waved her away. ‘It’s okay. You mix. I could do with a few minutes on my own.’ She gave a thin smile and Jessica kissed her forehead.

Jessica turned and walked over to Garry, who was standing on his own, drinking from a plastic cup near the door.

‘You can take the piss out of
my
looks now if you want,’ Jessica said, pointing at one of the cuts on her face. ‘It looks like I’ve gone a few rounds with a heavyweight boxer, doesn’t it?’

Garry smiled. ‘Maybe a middleweight. Your nose is only horrifically deformed to one side, not fully smashed up.’

Jessica grinned. ‘Oi.’

Rowlands came over to join them.

‘Garry, this is Detective Constable Rowlands. Detective Constable, this is Garry Ashford,’ Jessica said. The two men shook hands.

‘How are you doing?’ Rowlands asked her.

‘Not too bad. Are you concerned about me…?’

‘If you’re not back fit and healthy soon, I’m going to have to find someone else to take the piss out of.’

Jessica snorted. ‘Cheers. You’re all heart. I’m surprised you’re not over there, trying to cop off with one of the nieces or something.’ She pointed towards the buffet table, where two pretty twenty-something girls were chatting to each other.

‘I’m not that low,’ Rowlands said, glancing towards them. ‘Still, they are next to the food and I’m feeling a bit peckish.’ He rubbed his belly and grinned, before giving Jessica a wink.

‘See ya, Dave,’ Garry said.

Jessica shook her head, smiling. ‘One day he’ll get his comeuppance,’ she said.

Garry shrugged. ‘So, are you okay?’

‘I’ll be fine.’

Garry took a deep breath. ‘How about a drink one night, then?’

Jessica looked back at him. ‘Are you using a wake as an opportunity to ask me on a date?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Umm,’ Jessica said very audibly, for his benefit, ‘if I say “yes”, are you going to explain to me how you know Detective Constable Rowlands’ first name?’

H
ello
! Firstly, thank you for choosing to read
The Killer Inside
. Out of the millions of books you could’ve chosen, it’s lovely that you picked mine. Well, one of mine...

This is where Jessica’s journey begins, an awkward 30-something trying to find her place and figure out what she wants to do with herself. She makes mistakes, doubts herself, probably acts a bit immaturely at times. Like most people her age, I think. Certainly like me.

Her series has been ongoing for a fair few years in the UK and I’d hope that she’s matured, that she isn’t the same person in the most recent book that she is here. I’d love it if you could join her on that journey.

If you enjoyed
The Killer Inside
, please do leave a review. For one, it’s good to hear what you think – but it’s also the best way for new readers to find my stuff. You can get in touch through Facebook or email me through my website. I’m on Twitter – but you might have to stomach some outraged reaction to various soccer results not going my way.

If you’d like to keep up to date with my future releases, please sign up on the mailing list link below. You won’t be spammed and your details won’t be shared. You’ll only get emails about my books.

Next up is Jessica’s second adventure in
Vigilante
, out soon.

Thanks for reading. Cheers.

Kerry, June 2016

• @kerrywk
  
• JessicaDanielBooks