Walk a Narrow Mile (20 page)

‘Just think about it for a while. Reason it out. Here we have an inadequate man, obsessed with body-building and women. Women who rejected him. Women who were making his life miserable. And then, Judy Yelland, his latest infatuation, is reported as a Missing Person. What does he think?’

‘That she’s scarpered to avoid him,’ Jimmy said flatly.

‘Yes. Maybe at first, that’s all it was,’ Hillary agreed. ‘And it would have made him feel good, right? Here she was, a woman at last showing him the proper respect, giving him the kudos he deserved, by being afraid enough of him to run away. It would have given his ego a tremendous boost. But then, less than two years later, another of the many woman he’d singled out for his special attention also goes missing. Meg Vickary. Now what does he think?’

Steven frowned. ‘I’m not sure I like where this is going,’ he said quietly.

Hillary smiled faintly. ‘Welcome to my world. He’s a sick fantasist remember? A woman hater. An inadequate nobody who yearns to be a somebody. Someone to be feared and respected. Just think what it did to his psyche to have another young woman, and a beautiful, young, kick-ass, aggressive woman like Meg Vickary no less, suddenly to go missing as well. What does he start to imagine is happening? What fantasy can he start to build up with the evidence at hand?’

‘Oh bloody hell,’ Jimmy Jessop said, finally catching on.

‘What?’ Geoff Rhumer barked, realizing he was the only one still not in the loop and not liking it.

‘He begins to fantasize that he really has killed them. Judy
and Meg?’ Steven said, his wondering voice making it both a question and a statement.

‘Right,’ Hillary said firmly. ‘You get wannabe pop stars who, to fulfil their dreams, try to get onto television talent programmes and make it that way. You get wannabe football players who play for a local five-a-side and dream of Wembley. You can get wannabes who are anything you care to mention. Steam-train drivers. Plastic surgeons. So why not a wannabe serial killer?’ Hillary asked.

‘Whoah!’ Geoff Rhumer yelped. ‘Isn’t that taking it a bit far?’

Hillary nodded. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I was thinking a few days ago. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Don’t forget, Lol is on the job. He’s a policeman. He’s fascinated by crime, but since he doesn’t have the guts or the brains to be a criminal, he decides to make a sideways move into the area that fascinates him. He’s on the periphery, so to speak, never in the spotlight. He’s had a taste of the giddy heights when two of the girls he’s been stalking go missing, and then Gilly makes it three. Now, to you and me, who are all pretty sane, and have our feet rooted firmly on the ground, that makes for one hell of a coincidence. Out of the scores of women he’s had in his sights, no less than three of them go missing. But we all know that in real life coincidences are as real as anything else. Gilly simply told her family that she was going to go off, and did so. Judy fell foul of the man in her life. Lots of women do. And Meg was a girl with an eye on the main chance. Individually, there was nothing remarkable in what happened to any of them – and I don’t mean to demean what happened to Judy. But the point is, to you or me, with our rational, sound minds, we can accept that stranger things have happened. But to a diseased, excitable mind, it must have seemed like … I don’t know, some sort of a sign.’

Hillary paused. ‘And then, as if to underline it in gold, as it were, there was one more thing that happened that pushed him well and truly over the edge.’

‘What?’ Steven asked.

‘Me,’ Hillary said flatly. ‘There he is, fantasizing about having killed three women. He even goes to the families of the missing girls so that he can steal some sort of keepsake from his ‘victims’. He’ll have read all the material on serial killers, remember. He’ll know how they like to keep sick mementos. And he’ll want to fit the profile perfectly. The more real he can make the role playing, the more easy it will be to convince himself that it’s all true. Hell, I wouldn’t even be surprised if hasn’t even got himself some fantasy burial spot as well, somewhere that he can go and imagine the three girls lying under the earth, where he put them.’

Over in his corner, Jimmy shuddered.

‘But the game’s getting a bit sour, a bit old. It’s not so much fun as it once was. No more girls have gone missing. Somewhere buried in the back of his sick head, he knows that it’s all make believe,’ Hillary went on. ‘But then he spots his next victim. And everything changes, as Lol decides that his next girl is going to be me.’

Steven drew in a long slow breath.

‘It sort of makes sense,’ he agreed slowly. ‘You’re more exciting. More dangerous, and more of a challenge. You’re on the job yourself, with a reputation as a detective, and a
solve-rate
second to none. You’re more
worthy
of his attention.’

‘Right. In choosing me, he’s playing with fire, getting his rocks off, and ramping up the stakes. Which is why he has to go all out to impress me. To intrigue me. To suck me in.’

‘The crosses with the three girls’ missing initials on them,’ Jimmy said, snapping his fingers.

‘Yes. He can’t resist boasting, trying to impress me.’

‘Wait a minute, isn’t that just asking for trouble though, guv?’ Jimmy said. ‘What if you actually figure it all out? His whole crazy fantasy world comes crashing down around his ears.’

‘I know,’ Hillary said sombrely. ‘That’s why I had Gilly wear a cap before she got out of her car, and why I told the WPC taking her statement to keep Gilly’s presence a secret.’

‘Because if Lol finds out, he’s going to know that you’re on to him,’ Steven said.

‘That’s one reason yes. Also, I don’t want him alerted, because now I think we have a way of tracking him down at last,’ Hillary agreed.

‘How?’ Geoff asked. He still wasn’t at all convinced by Hillary’s arguments, although the presence of Gillian Tinkerton, alive and well, was a bit of a facer. He was a simple,
straightforward
sort of copper, and the things that Hillary Greene had been saying still made little sense to him. But one thing he was sure of. Lol existed, Lol had attacked a fellow police officer, and whatever the truth about the three missing girls turned out to be, Lol was one sick stalker, and Geoff and his team had been getting eyestrain trying to find him. Tedious, painstaking, boring work it had been too. If Hillary thought she had a way of tracking him down – now
that
was definitely something he could get his brain around.

‘If you were Lol, and you wanted to keep an eye on your “girls” what would you do?’ Hillary asked. ‘Remember in his fantasy, he’s this terrible and notorious serial killer of women. And he’s “fallen in love” with the detective assigned to find out what happened to them. You’re on the job. You’ve been stalking women for years. What would you want to have access to?’

‘Bloody hell.’ Jimmy made everyone jump by suddenly yelling. ‘Records. You’d want to have access to records.’

‘Absolutely. From time to time, I think he must have volunteered to work in admin,’ Hillary agreed. ‘It would be the only way he could get access to stuff.’

Geoff stood up. ‘I’ll get cracking on the list.’ He glanced at his watch and grimaced. ‘Damn, the day shift has gone by now. I don’t know how many of the men on our radar have had secondments to records and admin, but it can’t be that many. If we get on it right now it won’t take us long to find them, and then we can have them all in first thing in the morning.’

‘I suggest you make a clean sweep of it,’ Steven warned. ‘If
Lol is on that list, then we don’t want him to twig what’s happening. If you don’t have enough men on your team to bring them all in for questioning simultaneously, let me know, and I can get you all you need. It needs to be meticulously co-
ordinated
.’

‘Good idea,’ Geoff said, and left quite happily. Even so, he shot Hillary a slightly troubled and thoughtful gaze, as he left. Jimmy caught it and grinned.

‘I reckon our DI’s still half convinced you’re off your rocker, guv.’

Hillary shrugged. ‘Can’t say as I blame him. Just as long as he gets Lol tomorrow.’

Steven looked up at the tone in her voice. ‘What’s up? Why the urgency?’

Again she shrugged. ‘I just feel as if things are coming to a head that’s all. Remember, he’s been living it high for these last few weeks. His attack on me has given him confidence. It’s given him a taste of real blood, not to put too fine a point on it. All along he’s been a wannabe killer. By now, the urge to
actually
do it, to become the genuine article, must be almost unbearable. He’s been dreaming of being the killer of women for so long, what’s to stop him from making it a reality at last?’

‘You think he’s going to have another run at you?’ Steven said sharply. ‘That does it. I’m coming back to the boat with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight.’ He smiled across the desk at her. ‘And apart from anything else, I’ve still got a bone to pick with you, remember?’

Hillary shot him a oh-yeah smile.

‘And don’t worry,’ Steven said softly, ‘if you’re right, and I’m beginning to think that you always are, Geoff and his team will have Lol in the bag tomorrow. There won’t be that many who would have volunteered to work in admin – most coppers are sick of paperwork as it is, without volunteering to have it all day, every day. I doubt there’ll be half a dozen, if that. Once we’ve narrowed the gene pool to that extent, it won’t take you
long to pick him out. He’ll probably start drooling the minute you walk into the interview room.’

Hillary nodded, ignoring the unsavoury imagery his words provoked. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she agreed.

So why didn’t she feel quite as sanguine as she should?

That evening, Vivienne Tyrell had just got in from work when she received Tom’s latest text, and she grinned as she read the message.

Quickly, happily, Vivienne texted back:
COME AND GET ME LOVER
.

T
he next day, when it was only just beginning to get light, Hillary drove into work, checking every now and then in her rear-view mirror to make sure that Steven was still behind her in his car. Naturally, he was. He had spent the night, as promised, on the
Mollern
, and she’d begun to feel as if his
presence
there was becoming definitely significant.

Not only were some of his clothes beginning to take up a little of her limited wardrobe space, and his spare razor to sit on the shelf of her tiny bathroom, but he seemed to be moving into her world in ways far less demonstrable, and yet no less real. She knew at some point that they were going to have to address the issue head on, but now hardly seemed the right time to start discussing where their relationship was heading.

Down in CRT, she went first to her own office to check her messages and was surprised to find, so soon, an email with an attachment from Dirty Dick over in Spain. He’d obviously worked quickly, and she was grateful as she quickly printed off the attachments and took them through to Steven’s office.

There, Geoff Rhumer and Jimmy were already waiting.

‘Before we start, these are through,’ she began, and handed Steven the photographs from Spain, and then Meg Vickary’s case file. All three men crowded around for a look, but it was obvious that the woman photographed, variously, lounging around the pool at Hardwicke’s villa, shopping at a Gucci store in town, and lunching al fresco at a restaurant, were all Meg
Vickary. A little older, maybe, but still with a perfect figure and immaculate make-up and clothes.

‘Well, that’s one thing ticked off the list,’ Steven said, leaning back. ‘Not that there was much doubt. OK, we all set for this morning?’ He checked his watch. It still wasn’t yet six o’clock.

Geoff Rhumer nodded. ‘As I was just saying, there were five men on the list who fit the bill. We’ve got the manpower to bring them all in at seven-fifteen exactly. You want to come in on it, sir?’ he asked, with more politeness than enthusiasm, it had to be said.

Steven thought about it and then shook his head. He knew that to have a superintendent in on one of the collars would be unsettling for men already uptight at having to bring in one of their own. ‘No, I’ll stay here and co-ordinate the interviews. We have any that look more promising than the others?’

‘Two,’ Geoff confirmed at once. ‘Of the five, one is forty-two years old, which is a little long in the tooth to be described as youngish, I would say. Two others are nearly bald, or have those shaved-head haircuts that seem so popular nowadays. Mind you, both of them were, or have been, dark-haired, so they could still be our man, if he’s had a bit of a hair-loss problem since he last spoke to Mrs Tinkerton.’

Steven nodded. ‘But?’

‘But there’re two others – a PC called Tom Warrington, and an acting-sergeant Faulkner who both stand out. Faulkner’s a hulking rugby player, and Warrington works out. Both are dark, could be described as good-looking, and have the reputations of being loners. And all five, as I said, have worked admin or records.’

‘OK. Well, I’ll let you get on with it then, Geoff,’ Steven said, and then held up a hand as Hillary opened her mouth to speak. ‘And before you ask, no, you can’t go along. This is strictly Geoff’s pigeon, remember? If we have trouble identifying our man from the interviews then we might have to bring you in to try and get him to react. But that’s strictly a last-ditch resort.
Think what his defence barrister will say if they find out you were allowed to sit in on the arrest and initial interviews.’

Hillary closed her mouth with a snap, and nodded
reluctantly
. He was right, damn him. He usually was.

‘Besides,’ Steven said, understanding her frustration, and sympathizing with it. ‘You have your own agenda. I’m going to get straight on to the search warrants for Christopher Deakin’s house and places of work. Your priority right now is Judy Yelland. Right?’

Hillary nodded. Again, he was right, damn him. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said.

Steven shot her a don’t-you-bloody-yes-sir-me look, and then deliberately smiled at her dazzlingly. She scowled back at him. As she got up and walked to the door, however, Hillary’s lip’s twitched. She was definitely going to have sort out Steven Crayle before long. The man was getting too damned big for his boots.

Jimmy followed her out and to the general office. Sam looked up hopefully as they came in, and Hillary nodded at him. ‘Right, Sam, as soon as the super has the warrants, we’re going to turn Christopher’s Deakin’s life upside down. You ever conducted a fingertip search before?’

‘No, guv,’ Sam said eagerly.

‘Well, there’s a first time for everything. I doubt there’s nothing that Jimmy here can’t teach you about it, right, Jimmy?’

‘Guv,’ Jimmy rolled his eyes. ‘If I had a tenner for every time I tossed a gaff….’

Hillary nodded, her eyes going to Vivienne’s empty chair. ‘Is Vivienne not coming in today?’ she asked absently.

Sam, who knew that she
was
due in, and was just running late again, coughed. ‘Er, not sure, guv,’ he prevaricated. He didn’t want to drop her in it. He didn’t think even Hillary’s patience with her could last forever.

Hillary, amused by the lad’s inability to meet her eyes, smiled. She was going to have to teach him how to lie much better than that!

‘Right,’ she said flatly. ‘Well, update the case files while we’re waiting. I’ll be in the office if anybody wants me,’ she added, glancing at her watch. Right now, Rhumer and his teams should be gearing up and heading out in five different locations to nab their suspects.

It was, she felt instinctively, going to be a long, long day.

Geoff Rhumer and a PC on loan from Juvenile Crimes had been allocated Phil Faulkner. He’d chosen Faulkner personally, because he and Tom Warrington had to be prime contenders for being their stalker, and he wanted at least a fifty-fifty chance of being the one to bring him in. Although Rhumer and his team had the job that had been the least rewarding, in that it had consisted mainly of computer work, interpreting statistics, and using a painstaking process of elimination, the pay off came in moments like this. And he wouldn’t have been human if he had not wanted to nab one of the plum roles for himself.

Feeling a little buzz of adrenaline-induced excitement, he made sure his voice was calm as he directed Robert White to Faulkner’s address on the outskirts of Kidlington. White, Geoff was glad to see, was a beefy young lad, and he made sure that they were both equipped with pepper spray and a taser when they walked up to Faulkner’s door. He was well aware that the stalker was known to be young, fit and muscular, and if it was indeed Faulkner, and he did try and make a fight or a run for it when he realized the game was up, Geoff had no intention of being caught unprepared.

Besides, he was too damned old and too damned wily to get a fist in the gut or any of his precious remaining teeth knocked out.

He checked his watch, made sure it was 7.15 exactly, and then let PC White take the lead and knock on the door.

Faulker lived in a typical council-house semi, painted a pale cream, in a pleasant enough cul-de-sac.

Geoff was fairly sure that it would be Faulkner himself who
answered. It always made for complications when it was the wife, or even worse, one of the kids, who opened the door when you came to nab someone, but in this case, Faulkner had neither. He was, Geoff knew, divorced and currently living alone.

The door opened abruptly. ‘Yeah?’

Faulkner was still half-undressed, and had obviously been caught in the act of shaving. He looked surprised at finding a uniformed copper on his door, but his eyes went straight to Rhumer, being the man in civvies. He frowned, clearly not liking what he was seeing.

‘What’s up then?’ he demanded.

‘Acting-Sergeant Faulkner?’ Geoff asked pleasantly, fingering the pepper spray in his pocket.

‘Yes.’

‘I’m DI Rhumer, this is PC White,’ Geoff said, using his left hand to show his ID. ‘We just have a few things that need clearing up back at the station. Could we come in? You need to finish shaving and get dressed.’

Faulkner’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, then he shrugged. Like all coppers, he didn’t feel comfortable being on the receiving end of having his collar felt, and was clearly unhappy about it. But he stepped back from the door and let them inside. Geoff was careful to keep himself out of arm’s length, but Faulkner merely turned and headed back upstairs.

Geoff nodded at White, who followed him up. He waited in the hall, tensed and ready to act should there be any sound of a scuffle or a dull ominous thud. But barely five minutes later, Faulkner came back down and followed them outside and got into the back of the car with Rhumer without a word.

He hadn’t asked what it was all about, which intrigued Geoff slightly. Then again, it was becoming clear to him that Faulkner belonged to the strong, silent group. Either that, or he just knew enough not to volunteer any information, and to hold his fire until he was sure in which direction the battle lay, and
then
scream for the representation to which he was entitled.

As White drove them back into HQ, Geoff glanced at his watch. So far there’d been no calls either on his mobile or over the radio to indicate that any of the others had had any trouble.

So at least, that was something.

Hillary Greene, Sam and Jimmy were just pulling out of the HQ car-park lot as Rhumer drove in. They didn’t quite pass, and Hillary was too busy looking for a break in the traffic to notice them. The search warrants had come in, and she was headed for Summertown.

‘So what exactly are we going to be looking for guv?’ Sam asked from the back seat, clearly excited.

‘Now that’s the question, son,’ Jimmy responded for her. ‘And the knack to conducting a successful blind search.’

‘Blind search?’

‘Yes. There’s three kind of searches,’ Jimmy explained patiently. ‘You have a suspect you think knifed someone in a bar-room brawl. So you’re looking for a specific item – a switch blade or whatever. That’s one of the most common ones, and straightforward enough. Then you have a suspect, say a suspected rapist, and a victim, and you’re searching his house for any signs that the rape took place there, or signs of the victim’s presence – like her ripped panties, or torn-out ear-ring, or what have you. A bit wider in scope, but still fairly
straightforward
. Then you get something like this – where you don’t really know what you’re looking for, but just hope like hell that you’ll recognize it when you find it.’

‘Oh,’ Sam said. Behind her, Hillary heard the lad gulp.

She smiled. ‘Don’t worry, Sam. We’re looking for anything that can help us find out what might have happened to Judy Yelland. When I’ve got a better idea of how the land lies, I’ll direct you to look for something specific – maybe a diary, or women’s clothing, something specific anyway. Jimmy and I will do the
blind
bit.’

Sam sighed. ‘I don’t know if I’m ever going to be good enough for this job, guv,’ he said quietly.

Hillary smiled again. ‘Don’t worry. We all thought the same thing, at some point. You can only do so much studying and training. The rest is just experience and time served. You’ll do fine,’ she reassured him. Which was more than could be said for the still absent Vivienne.

She was going to have do something about Miss Tyrell, Hillary realized with an inner sigh. It was clear she had no place in the police, and she’d have to make her feelings clear to Steven.

Not that she liked ensuring that anyone got the push, but in Vivienne’s case the writing was on the wall.

Back at HQ, Geoff Rhumer and Steven Crayle had a problem. All the teams had returned to HQ, only one of them had come back empty-handed.

The team assigned to pick up PC Tom Warrington from his parents’ house had to report that Warrington had not returned to the family home the night before. His parents, however, weren’t either worried or particularly surprised, since their son had recently purchased a caravan, and had left last night to set up a site for it.

Unfortunately, they had no idea where that might be.

Hillary paused at the Summertown roundabout and tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘You remember what Ruth Coombs said, Jimmy, about her following Christopher the day that she knew the case had been reopened?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Didn’t she mention him going to one of his storage places, or something?’

Jimmy grunted and twisted around to get the file off the
backseat
. Sam quickly passed it over. Jimmy rustled through the pages for his notes. Behind her, an impatient git in a flash BMW blared his horn and Hillary shot him the finger in her mirror.

‘Right, guv. To a storage place in Headington. Apparently,
television equipment can be bulky and costly, so a lot of TV production outfits rent space like it.’

‘But do you remember how Deakin made a point of saying how he was running into scheduling problems recently?’ she asked, ignoring the BMW driver as he made a point of
manoeuvring
around her and roaring away up the Banbury Road.

‘So?’ Jimmy asked.

‘If you were a busy and harassed television exec, would you take time out to go and check on camera equipment in storage?’

Jimmy shrugged. ‘You want to start with the lock-up?’ He wasn’t much fussed where they began, and if the guv had a hunch, he was more than happy to follow her lead. Though it seemed a bit thin to him.

Hillary shrugged. ‘We’ve got to start somewhere. And I really can’t see that he’d keep anything incriminating in his office, do you?’

Jimmy nodded. ‘Fine by me.’

Hillary indicated to take the next left and headed towards the Oxford suburb of Headington, high up on the hill.

It turned out to be an inspired choice.

The storage facility was manned, but the security guard checked their ID and read the search warrant carefully and then let them straight in without a fuss. Unit 48, when he opened it with the pass key, was indeed large and full of equipment. Jimmy found the switch for the overhead strip lighting, thanked and dismissed the guard, then stood peering into the cavernous space gloomily.