The Ladykiller (22 page)

Lizzy stared at her mother and Kate could see her trying to comprehend what was being said.

‘I’d better go or I’ll be late.’

‘Hang on a sec and I’ll drop you at Joanie’s.’

‘It’s OK, I called a cab. You go to your party, Mum, just forget about me for once! I’m a big girl now.’

‘Well, Happy New Year then.’

Kate kissed her.

‘Happy New Year, Mum.’

She rushed from the room at the sound of the taxi honking and Kate watched her go with a pang of regret. Picking up her handbag from the bed, she walked slowly from the room.

‘You look a picture Katie.’

Evelyn was dressed up to the nines. She had on a bright green crimplene suit and a dark green hat. Her feet were encased in fur-lined ankle boots and she had a large brown handbag at her side.

‘Will you drop me round Doris’s?’

‘ ’Course I will. Are many people going?’

‘About twenty I think. This’ll be the first New Year we haven’t seen in together, just the three of us.’

‘I know that, but Lizzy’s right, she is growing up however much we don’t like it.’

‘Where’s your party again?’

‘Oh, just one of the guys from the station. It’s at his house.’ Kate hated lying, but she wasn’t ready to tell anyone about her feelings for Patrick.

‘Where’s Dan?’

‘He’s in the front room, you go and see him and I’ll get me coat.’

Kate went into the front room. Dan was sitting on the settee watching television. He looked at her as she came in. She watched, with some satisfaction, the widening of his eyes. He gave a low whistle. ‘You look lovely, Kate, really lovely.’ He sounded sincere.

‘Thanks, Dan. Did you see Lizzy before she went?’

‘Yeah.’ He ran his hands through his thick hair, a familiar gesture. ‘Why don’t you let me take you out, Kate?’ His voice was small. ‘You look much too good for a bunch of old policemen.’

‘Haven’t you made any arrangements?’ She raised her eyebrows.

‘Well, no. I was going to take you out - you never go out on New Year’s Eve.’ The petulant note was back in his voice.

‘Well, I do now.’ She heard her mother’s feet on the stairs and smiled.

‘Happy New Year.’

‘Happy New Year, Kate.’

He watched her go from the room and felt an urge to drag her back. For the first time ever Kate was in charge and Dan was not sure how to act. In the past it had been her coming to him. There was a man involved this time or his name was not Danny Burrows. Kate was dressed for a date, not a party. He would make it his business to find out who it was.

As the front door closed he pulled himself from the sofa and watched her drive away. Then, when she turned the corner, he went out to the hall and picked up the phone. He dialled and after a few rings a female voice answered.

Dan had a motto in life: Always have a back-up plan.

In the car Evelyn kept up a stream of chatter.

‘You really do look lovely, you know. It’s a long time since I saw you looking so well. If I didn’t know better I’d think there was a man on the horizon.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly, Mum. If there was a man on the horizon, you’d be the first to know.’

‘Well, maybe the man himself don’t know yet.’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’

Evelyn smiled vaguely. ‘Oh, nothing, nothing. Stop here, Kate.’

She pulled over to the kerb and turned off the engine. ‘Happy New Year, Mum.’

‘Happy New Year, love. And listen - if for some reason you want to spend the night with a friend, maybe you’ll want to drink and then you won’t be able to drive . . . you know . . . don’t worry about Lizzy because I’ll be home soon, should anything come up.’

She got out of the car and walked up Doris’s path, her back ramrod straight.

Kate started the car and smiled to herself. Her mother was shrewd.

She began to drive to the outskirts of Grantley. She was looking forward to seeing Patrick Kelly.

George was wrapped up warm. Although he was not as ill as he had made out to Elaine, he still felt a bit under the weather. George always liked to look after himself. He was obsessed with his health. He had the car heater on and the whirring as it blew out hot air was beginning to annoy him. He snapped on the radio.

The sound of Mozart’s Horn Concerto filled the car and he relaxed. That was more like it. He drove out of Grantley and along the road that led to the village of Woodham. He often drove out this way first; there was a small lay-by that was usually filled with cars with courting couples in them. Their steamed up windows excited George.

He put his foot on the accelerator and clipped his headlights. He felt free, free and happy. Later on he would drive back into Grantley and go and watch the flats. He began to hum along with the music. His usually dead grey eyes were sparkling. His bushy black brows, liberally sprinkled with grey, moved up and down in time to the music. His cheesecutter hat hid the balding patch on his head.

Then he saw her. In front of him were two other cars, which was unusual for this road. Normally it was dead. But it was New Year’s Eve, and all the roads were busy tonight. George had no idea about the rave that was just beginning in Woodham Woods.

The girl had her thumb out. He saw the car in front of him slow down and slowed with it. The girl walked towards the car and it pulled away quickly, leaving her standing with her hands on her hips by the side of the road. George drove past her and into the first lay-by. Taking the carrier bag from the back seat he slipped on the mask. He felt the adrenaline begin to course through his veins, and smiled. Adjusting the holes so that he could see properly, he turned around in the road and drove back towards her.

His heart nearly stopped. A car was parked up beside her. George drove past and felt a terrible anger replace his elation.

The slut! He drove along the road, and turned again.

Louise stared into the dark interior of the XR3. There were three boys in the back and two in the front. They were obviously drunk.

‘Come on, darlin’. Jump in the motor, we’ll be there in no time.’

Louise was not sure.

One of the boys in the back wound down his window and spat on to the roadside.

‘Look, hurry up, will ya? I’m fucking freezing me bollocks off!’

The blond youth who was driving leant across the front seat. ‘Look, get in.’

Louise was frightened.

‘No . . . No, it’s all right. I’ll walk.’

‘Let the silly bitch walk then. Come on, I want a drink.’

‘You stupid cow!’

The car screeched away and Louise watched its tail lights disappear into the distance.

They were drunk, or drugged, maybe both. She did not like walking along the dark road, but she was not getting into a car with five blokes! No way.

She pulled her leather flying jacket tighter around her. No, she would walk and find Sam and the others. She began to hurry, sorry now that she had not gone home, because all of a sudden the thought of missing out on a rave didn’t seem that bad. But if she had missed this one, she would be the laughing stock of her class. She wished she was sixteen. She wished she was at hairdressing college. She wished she was at home in bed!

Another car came up behind her and she heard it slow down. Oh, please don’t let it be another car full of drunks! Let it be some dreamy boy of about seventeen with his hair cut in ‘curtains’ and some really nice gear, then she could show off to Sam and the others!

She turned as the car drew to a halt.

The passenger door opened and she walked hesitantly towards it. The dirt path she was on was flanked on the left by a steep bank. The bank sloped down about ten feet, into a large ploughed field. Bending, she looked into the car.

As soon as her mind registered what it had seen she jumped away from the car door, a scream issuing from her that cut through the night air.

Inside the car was a man in a black leather mask.

Nowhere in her wildest nightmares had she ever imagined anything like this! She stumbled backwards. Too late she remembered about the steep bank behind her and stepped into thin air. Landing with a thud on the dirty slope, her brand new Reeboks scrabbled in the dirt a couple of times before she finally pulled herself up.

There in front of her was the masked man! She dodged around him and ran into the road as he made a grab for her. In his hands she saw something glint and realised it was a knife. She felt her bowels loosen as she realised fully what was happening. She was dazzled by a set of headlights as a Volkswagen Golf swerved to avoid her, music blaring out of the open windows. She stood helplessly in the road as it shot past. With it went her hopes.

The man was standing on the grass verge watching her. On the other side of the road was another field. She bit her lip, weighing up in her confused mind where to run. It was dark, so dark and lonely.

She backed away from the man slowly, trying desperately to think of an escape. She saw him begin to walk towards her. In the distance she heard another car, and putting up her arms began to run towards it, waving and shouting.

Terry Miller had dropped a tab of Ecstasy at six that evening. He was buzzing, really buzzing. Beside him his brother Charlie was tripping out of his head. They had driven around for over an hour trying to find the rave that everyone was going on about. Inside the car the sounds of Technotronic screamed out so loudly that they could hardly hear themselves think. When Terry saw the girl in his headlights he snorted with laughter.

‘Look, Charlie, she must be well stoned!’

He grinned, trying to clear his mind.

‘Look at the geezer with her. Wild, man. Look at his headgear.’

They drove past the two figures and Terry sounded his horn that played the first few bars of the Star Spangled Banner.

‘Wicked! Did you see that bloke, man. Really wicked.’

Louise Butler watched her potential saviours drive away, their horn blaring out into the dark night. She began to cry. Looking around her as if she thought someone was going to run out of the field behind her and save her, she saw that the man was much nearer.

Turning, she began to run. Before she had taken five steps she hit the chain link fencing that was invisible in the darkness. She felt the fence give a little and then it literally threw her back into the arms of the man with the mask.

As his arms tightened around her all the fight left her body. Fear took over and she went limp. Her shoulders were racked with sobs.

Oh please, please God, help me!

George half carried, half dragged her back to the car. Inside the mask he was smiling. His secret smile that just exposed his teeth.

Kate had had one glass of wine with dinner and was now enjoying an armagnac. Patrick smiled across the table at her. It was the second time that Kate had had dinner at his house, and he was finding that he liked her being around. She took his mind off Mandy, and that was strange considering she was on his daughter’s case.

He had no illusions about the police. He had been dealing with them on and off all his life. But Kate was the first plain clothes police officer he had ever dealt with on a personal basis. Oh, he had greased a few of the Old Bill’s palms over the years, such as the Chief Constable’s, but they were both in the Masons. Kate was the first member of the Force he had met socially because he wanted to. Because he enjoyed her company.

She looked good enough to eat tonight. Red suited her. Her dark hair shone in the light from the candles. She looked softer somehow. More appealing. After all his empty-headed bimbos, he found he liked having a woman around him who demanded a bit of respect.

In fairness to the young girls who had come and gone over the years, he had deliberately picked well-stacked, dim-witted types whose only claim to fame was the fact that they were a good lay. He had not wanted to have to trouble himself making conversation. What on earth did a man on the wrong side of forty have to say to an eighteen year old? Nothing, that’s what.

But Kate, she was a different kettle of fish altogether. They discussed everything under the sun. And she wasn’t one of those pushy birds either, who wore their intelligence like a pair of boxing gloves, willing to punch a point home. Oh, no. Kate would listen to his opinions then give hers, quietly and fairly. He liked her. He knew that she was not making much headway with finding the nonce, but in fairness neither was he. The bloke was obviously a chancer. Kate had explained all that to him. He never left any clues. But she would not give up. One day he would make a mistake, then she would have him.

Only what Kate didn’t know was that when that break came, Patrick would also be after the bloke. And when he was finished with him there would be nothing left. Nothing recognisable anyway.

‘So you don’t have anything to go on, really?’ he asked.

Kate shook her head and he watched her hair ripple with the movement.

‘We’re gradually eliminating people from the inquiry but it takes time. We’re still interviewing all men with dark-coloured Orions. We should be finished with that in the next ten days. I myself will be interviewing from tomorrow along with Spencer and Willis.’

‘I see.’ His voice was gentle.

‘We will get him, Patrick, eventually. Normally when a murder is committed, or a rape, the person is known to us.’ Kate smiled ruefully. ‘I think I’ve said all this before!’

‘You have. Come on, let’s change the subject.’ He nearly burst out laughing and Kate looked at him quizzically.

‘I nearly said, “How’s work”! My head’s up my Khyber these days. Come on, let’s adjourn to the drawing room, shall we?’ His voice mimicked that of an aristocrat and Kate laughed. He was a character.

In the drawing room they sat together on the large settee. Patrick had brought the brandy decanter and two glasses.

‘This is a lovely house - eighteenth century, isn’t it?’

Patrick nodded.

‘Yeah, I picked it up for a song about twelve years ago. Seventy grand I paid for it, and that was the national debt then I can tell you. It was a ruin.’ He waved his hand.