Flowers for the Dead (37 page)

He tries to smile but nothing will work properly, although the pain has stopped. He has all the answers to all the stories now. Staring into twinkling teddy bear eyes, Adam wants to pass on his newfound wisdom. He takes a deep breath to speak at last.

Mike leans forward, straining to hear what Adam has to say. But all he can make out is a tortured groan. It is a death rattle. Adam has gone. There are no last words.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

~ Star Of Bethlehem ~

Reconciliation

FOUR MONTHS LATER

The spring bumblebees buzz deep and lazy, glinting amber in the gentle May sunshine. Mike stands looking at the small patch of grass dotted with daisies and buttercups outside Colchester Police Station, listening to the traffic go by on the busy road. Rubs his hands together against the slight chill of the early morning, and reflects that the shiny burn scars from where he had patted Adam out with them are barely noticeable now.

He sucks in a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and then blows out, the vapour hanging in front of him like smoke for a second. This had been Mike’s favourite smoking place for years, and as he turns to go inside he looks at the brick that has scorch marks on it from him repeatedly stubbing out cigarettes. Part of him laments the fact that he does not do that any more but he cannot stand the smell of smoke these days. Even burnt toast sends a shiver up his spine and brings memories of Adam’s charred body flooding back. Mike has even given up meat because it reminds him too much of the serial killer’s remains. He is dreading summer for its barbecues.

On the plus side though he has managed to make his daughter a very happy girl by quitting smoking forever thanks to Adam’s agonising demise. He pulls her latest note out of his pocket and gives a growly chuckle, his belly dancing up and down.

It is a drawing of a princess with a big smile on her face, and below her is written: “Thank you for not being smokey.”

Mike does not miss smoking, but he does miss the fag breaks, which is what has brought him outside now. He puts his hands back into the pockets of his smart tweed knee-length coat, still very much mourning the loss of the mac, which had suffered too many scorch marks to be recovered. He still misses it. But Daisy thinks he looks handsome in this coat, and who is he to argue.

Time to head back to his desk. Mike trudges inside and the desk sergeant, Biggs, instantly catches his eye.

“There’s a visitor for you,” he says, nodding towards the seated area. The movement makes the tiny strands of his comb-over fly up. Mike is not sure why anyone would choose to look like a dandelion clock, and reflexively runs a hand over his own bald patch as he looks over to where Biggs has indicated. Laura is standing up to greet him.

She looks a lot better than last time they saw each other, when he had insisted on taking her statement the day after Adam had died. This despite his hands being wrapped up like a boxer’s ready for a bout, because of the injuries he had sustained patting out the flames. His beard had looked decidedly sorry for itself too, with bare patches and frazzled ends here and there.

Laura had been in worse shape though. Her right arm in a sling after doctors had popped it back into its socket, scabs running around her wrists from the ropes that had held her in place. Her hands also covered in burns. Yet she had managed a smile, insisting that she was just glad to be alive.

Mike had really respected her strength of character for that. He had respected her even more for trying to help the man who had kidnapped and terrorised her. No one would have blamed her for running in the opposite direction when the flames had burned through the ropes holding her, and she had broken free. Instead, she had run towards her stalker. At the time she had stuttered it was what her parents would have wanted her to do.

“Hi! I wanted to come and thank you again for everything you did for me,” she says now. Her blue eyes are bright and she is looking happy and healthy.

“There’s no need,” smiles Mike.

“Yeah, well, I think there is. I might not be alive today if it weren’t for you. And it feels pretty good to be alive!

“I, umm, I had a hard time dealing with life after my family’s death. I felt guilty for being alive. But now I know it really is what they would want - and more importantly, it’s what I want too.”

“Yeah, I can understand that.” Mike is thinking about Mags and how he felt after losing her. The first time he had laughed he had been eaten up with guilt. But then he had realised how ridiculous that was, especially as he had been laughing with Daisy at the time.

“Actually, I’ve come to say thanks but also goodbye,” beams Laura. “I’m leaving Colchester for a while.”

“Oh right, going anywhere nice?”

“Yeah, I’ve sold my flat – didn’t have the best memories associated with it.” She gives a wry chuckle. “But I’m using the money to go travelling for a year. It’s time to live and experience new things, broaden my horizons, you know. And I figure I’ve had two near death experiences and survived so I think I can deal with pretty much anything life can throw at me now.

“There are so many things I want to see and do. The Great Barrier Reef, blue whales breeching the water, skydiving.” Her eyes are shining with enthusiasm as she talks. “When I get back I’ll probably finish my nursery nursing studies, make my parents proud.”

“That sounds a really great idea.”

She nods. “Have you ever been to Australia or Thailand?”

“Nah, I’m more of a caravan in Britain kind of guy,” he smiles.

While Laura’s route to happiness lies in travelling, Mike has decided the opposite. He and Daisy will be staying put in Colchester, the move to Reading cancelled. This is where his happiest memories are, and his support network is strongest; something that had really been hammered home to him when he had been injured.

Laura’s smile clouds for a moment. “I’ve got to ask,” she says hesitantly. “Do you have any idea why Adam Bourne did what he did?”

Mike shakes his head. “Don’t think we’ll ever know. We don’t even know for certain how he met his victims, they had nothing in common at all apart from being lone females.”

“I suppose some people are just born twisted,” she replies.

Mike scratches his beard thoughtfully. In his experience some people are. And some people are made that way.

THE END

AUTHOR’S NOTES & ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First, an author’s note. Although there is a private park in Moseley, I have taken certain liberties with history, and also changed the name of the company that set it up (which was actually Moseley Park and Pool Estate Company). Other details have also been changed through the novel, and it is important to remember that this is a work of fiction, not a factual book. Certainly there is no suggestion that any owners of property in that area, living or dead, have ever been serial killers!

Writing is a solitary business, and yet there are so many people who I couldn’t have done this without. My partner Paul Humphreys not only puts up with me when I am busy despairing about plots, but also creates my book covers for me. My mom has unfailing patience when listening to me talk non-stop about my books for months on end.

Thanks to Andrew Cumberworth for his scientific know-how, and my brother-in-law Terry Pryme, for their help in trying to kill Sara and Graeme Bourne in a car crash. Thanks also to my cousin, Julie, for her psychological insight into Adam, and her unstinting support.

Three of Adam’s tragic murder victims are named after real people who wanted to be part of my book: Julie Clayton, Lisa Brookman, and Sharon Humphreys, take a bow. If you fancy being a character in my next book, watch out for competitions on my Facebook page (AuthorBarbaraCopperthwaite) and Twitter feed (@BCopperthwait).

I really hope you enjoy my books – and if you do, please leave a quick review on Amazon, etc. It’s so lovely to hear from you!