Urge to Kill (1) (34 page)

The more he thought about it, the more he began to realise he might enjoy the role of a troubled soul. There would be a kindly psychiatrist who would listen carefully to his every word. He would take notes and look very serious. He would be fascinated as to what prompted Clive to kill. Everyone would be intrigued, and he could tell them, even write a book about his life. That would be worth something. Not that he would be allowed the profits, but maybe he could give them to Ben. He would always remember Clive then.

Thinking of Ben made him realise that he wanted to be free to enjoy his love, be with him, share everything, not locked away. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to get caught.

Now was the time. Clive should tell him, let him share the excitement, the sense of power. Together, they would be able to carry on forever. After each murder they would make violent, passionate love.

Clive needed to be with Ben right now.

Ben was laughing and breathless as he answered the phone and Clive could hear music in the background along with several other voices.

‘Ben Holbrook’s wedding services.’

More laughter from the chorus behind him that threw Clive into a turmoil of doubt and confusion. ‘Hello, Ben. I was hoping we could meet up?’

‘Clive. Great to hear from you. But, well, I’m a bit tied up tonight. It’s Pete and Jazz’s stag do. And as big chief organiser, I’ve got to stay around to insist they all have a great time.’

‘Oh.’ Clive couldn’t keep disappointment out of his voice at the thought of Ben giving his time and attention to anyone else.

‘Hey, why don’t you come and join us? I’m sure Pete and Jazz won’t mind and, anyway, they won’t notice, given the amount of tequilas they are soaking up.’

Clive didn’t want to share Ben with anyone.

‘We’re at Henry’s. Do you know it?’

‘No.’

‘Go past The Brown Horse, and Henry’s is in a little side street to the right.’

There was an explosion of noise from behind Ben. It didn’t sound like the sort of place Clive wanted to be.

‘Must go, Buff is climbing on the bar.’

With a click, he was gone leaving Clive undecided about what to do. If he wanted to be with Ben, he would have to suffer his drunken friends. A stag night—Pete and Jazz? Of course, he had forgotten that homosexuals could now go through a civil ceremony. Ben and he could be legally married. Everyone would then know Ben was his. Even Mother. Clive would ask him tonight.

Excited by the prospect, he set about making up a tray for Mother, who would have to be content with soup and toast. She didn’t seem interested when he took it in to her, and he giggled as he remembered that he had made her go to sleep. Clive didn’t have to try any longer to gain her love. She was asleep. He had the power to do that.

He placed the tray on the table beside her and stood looking down at her small and scrawny body, dwarfed by the high backed chair. She seemed to have shrunk into it. Clive bent to straighten the rug over her knees, pausing as he patted it into place over her lap.

‘I could sit here now, Mother, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me, no sharp words, no nasty push onto the floor. But I don’t want to.’ She took no notice.

‘I am getting married, Mother. And no, it is not nosey, interfering Anne.’ He felt the laughter bubbling up inside him at the memory of the muddy leaves piling up against Anne’s sharp little nose. ‘I will bring Ben here and he will hold me, as you never did.’

He had triumphed over them all; he was the powerful one. Closing the door behind him, he let the laughter loose to drift around the hallway and disappear up the stairs.

It was easy to find Henry’s, since the noise was shooting out across the small alleyway. Clive went towards the flashing neon sign and past the bored doorman who nodded and held open the door for him. A mass of gyrating bodies, lit by occasional vivid flashes of red and green, was all he could see. Everyone seemed to be moving in unison to what sounded like a tribal drum.

Thinking he would never find Ben in this throng, he took a tentative step forward, just as the DJ slowed the pace. Most of the bodies moved to collapse into seats, and then he saw him and wished he hadn’t.

Ben had his arm around a skinny youth who was leading him off the dance floor. Clive felt his heart tighten, as he watched the youth turn to kiss him on the mouth. Ben didn’t appear to return the kiss but it was hard to tell. Clive took a step back just as Ben turned to see him. Before Clive could move Ben was at his side.

‘Now this is great. I need someone sane. You’ll be able to help me with this mad lot.’

He leant forward for a kiss, but Clive’s face must have told him and he held back.

‘Hey, you’re not worried about Pete are you? He’s getting married to Jazz, so there is no need. Come and meet them all. Mind you, they’re not at their best.’

He took Clive’s arm and led him through the few dancers smooching around the floor.

Although there were only four of them, they were generating most of the noise in the room. Clive was embarrassed to be part of the group. One was climbing onto a chair, glass in hand, and he guessed he must be Buff.

‘Toast—that’s it. To…to…’

The others were shouting at him to get down as he tottered. Ben moved towards him and Buff flung himself forward, arms tightly around Ben’s neck.

‘You’re…the best…my Benny best…’

The others picked up the chant. ‘My Benny best…Benny best,’ as they crowded around to enclose Ben in a group hug.

Clive stood alone watching them, jealousy burning a hole in his heart, until he felt he would choke if he didn’t get some air.

Out in the alley, the air was cold, but he knew it wouldn’t cool how he felt inside. Ben’s so-called friends, drunken and lewd, how could he bear to be with them?

Clive had to prove himself, show Ben that he was all-powerful; then he would want to be with Clive instead. Tomorrow’s murder would go exactly as planned and that would impress Ben.

But what if he added something special, just for Ben. What if he laid the inspector’s woman at his feet as a trophy, just like ancient warriors threw down the heads of their enemies at the feet of a queen. He knew just where she was hidden and could find a way past their silly security measures.

By the time he reached home, his plan was almost fully formed with just a few minor details to be worked out. He had just checked on Mother, who hadn’t moved at all, when the doorbell rang.

‘So who’s the scaredy cat then?’

Clive couldn’t hide the shock of seeing Ben standing there, but as he strode past him into the hallway, he was overcome with pleasure. ‘Just not my scene, sorry.’

‘Not mine either, but someone has to be the dedicated driver.’

‘Have they finished?’

‘Some chance. I’ve just dropped them at Gabriel’s—they stay open till the last man standing. Pick them up later. They’re too drunk to get into much trouble now. Except chucking up of course, and I’d rather not be there for that stage.’

‘Can you stay for a drink? Oh, sorry. It could be tea or coffee.’

‘Coffee would be great. Thanks. In here?’

Ben was about to push open the door to the living room. Should Clive let him see how clever he was in putting Mother to sleep, in stopping her interference in his life? But no, he wanted the whole package in place first, so he could present it to Ben as a magnificent token of his love.

‘No. Shush. Mother is sleeping.’ He managed to stop the giggle in his throat and turned it into a cough.

‘In there?’

‘More comfortable. For her legs, she says.’ Clive moved down the hallway and encouraged Ben to follow him to the kitchen.

‘Maybe we should check on the old lady. I’d like to meet her?’

‘No.’

‘Oh.’

‘She gets a bit crabby if she doesn’t have her sleep. I’ve just made sure she is comfortable.’
And sleeping forever
, he wanted to add. But he could tell him that tomorrow.

Clive wanted Ben to stay, wanted to experience the loving once more. Yet he knew Ben must be persuaded, honoured. Once he realised how clever and powerful Clive was, he would only want him, not his idiot drunken friends.

He wanted to touch him, to slide his hands over those powerful shoulders, down to his hips. But if Ben loved him now, he would be lost, unable to concentrate on what must be done to capture and prepare the trophies he must lay at his feet.

Ben lingered over his coffee and with the temptation growing in him, it was Clive who said he was going to turn in.

‘And, I need to collect the revellers. I sure hope they’ve finished heaving.’

Clive experienced a flash of intense anger that he should be leaving him for those so unworthy. If he chose, he could be here with him forever, like Mother. But Mother was asleep. Hearing her lullaby in his head, he giggled and tried to stop as Ben looked sharply at him. Clive needed Ben awake, so he could be naked in his arms, could love and hold him.

Shutting out the thoughts of their lovemaking, he allowed Ben to kiss him, pulling back before the taste of him set fire to the smouldering within. He would allow him to go, so that he could stand triumphant before him tomorrow. Then he would never leave.

‘Come round tomorrow?’

‘OK. About seven?’

By then, Clive should have added Mrs Turrell and DC Meadows to his trophies, but he might still be engaged in his work with Mika, so it would have to be later. ‘Make it eight.’

‘Sure.’

With that, he was gone. Clive stood at the door and waved as Ben drove off before going in to tell Mother. He took delight in taunting her.

‘Tomorrow, dear Mother, I will bring my Ben in to meet you. Two men together, think of it, Mother. You will die of shame. But, no, you can’t do that can you?’ His laughter rang about her. ‘We will strip each other naked and make you watch, as we arouse each other. Then you will see me happy and loved at last.’ He moved towards the door, turning only to add a final echoing, ‘At last,’ before skipping into the hall.

Aware that he was becoming over excited, Clive decided to take one of Mother’s sleeping pills. She wouldn’t need them anymore, and he needed to rest before battle.

In the morning, wonderfully refreshed and not having to prepare breakfast for Mother, he allowed himself the luxury of bacon and egg. Mother couldn’t tolerate fats, so she hated even the smell. He decided to open the living room door so the aroma could drift in to her. Maybe he should eat his breakfast in front of her. But the sight of her was starting to offend him, so Clive shut the door and enjoyed his breakfast in the kitchen. It would be a long day, and he didn’t know when he would be able to eat again.

Next, he checked the warrant card he had prepared for the evening. He had meant it to be shown outside in the dark, when a quick flash and an arrogant attitude would get him by. During the day, the showing would have to be less and the attitude more.

Gloria said she would pass on his message when he rang to say he was taking Mother out for the day. Next, Clive rang Mrs Sinclair and told her that he was going to spend the day with Mother so she could take a paid day off.

Having chosen the yellow dress for Mika, the deep rose for Eppie, and the blue one for DC Meadows, he laid them carefully in the boot, together with all the accessories he needed. He hoped they appreciated the trouble he was taking to make sure they were dressed in colours that suited them.

Time to say goodbye to Mother. She seemed to have shrunk even further into her chair, and he tried to make her more comfortable. As usual, she was unappreciative and Clive gave up in the end. ‘Goodbye, Mother. I’m going to finish what I started.’ She should be pleased at that, even if she couldn’t show it. Not that she had ever seemed pleased with anything he did. But it didn’t matter. He declined to kiss her forehead. There was no need now to go through the charade that she could ever love him.

Clive could see DC Meadow’s house from the Abbey Fields car park. With the DC’s car gone, Eppie Turrell would be alone just as he thought. Attending to Mrs Turrell was going to be easy. DC Meadows would be harder, but Clive was convinced that once he showed the gods he was worthy, she would be directed towards him.

Everything was on his side, as it was always meant to be. And soon the constable could have a go at solving her own murder. The thought amused him. Maybe after she was dead she would be able to whisper clues in the inspector’s ear. That is, if he wasn’t too devastated by his wife’s death.

Laughter escaped, shocking Clive with its loudness. Something slinking through the undergrowth stopped still, green eyes turned towards him and made him realise he would need to suppress his joy and excitement.

CHAPTER 52

S
am came up to Matt as he locked his car. Matt was suspicious that Sam had been waiting for him.

‘She wouldn’t go for it, Guv. Said we were too busy to go chasing rainbows only not so politely as that.’

‘Jane Doe from the river?’

‘Yep.’

‘Well, maybe she’s right. Although I would at least like to find out who she was.’

‘Want me to go undercover, Guv?’

Matt laughed at Sam’s imagination.