THE WEST LONDON MURDERS an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detective Rob Miller Mysteries Book 2)

by BIBA PEARCE

  “But I do. The rougher the better.”

  He paused. This was how she did it. She contacted the violent men and promised them just what they wanted, what turned them on.

  “Are you going to teach me a lesson?” She was almost purring now. “Because I’ve been a very naughty girl.”

  That’s for sure, he thought. And I am going to teach you a lesson, but not the kind you’re thinking of.

  “I’m busy tonight.” He didn’t want to be a pushover. It would be too obvious. He had to play it cool, lead her on, make her think he was a dangerous lowlife with no respect for women. “You’ll have to find your fun somewhere else.”

  “I can wait, darling,” she purred.

  Rob met Jo’s gaze and nodded.

  She continued, “How about tomorrow night? Just you and me. Your place. I promise you a night you’ll never forget.”

  “How much?” he growled.

  “Honey, for you, I’ll give you a discount. Half price. You’ll be doing me a favour.”

  “How much?” he asked again.

  “Seventy-five,” she replied without hesitation. “Everything included. Whatever you want. I’m at your mercy.” She even managed to inject some excitement into her voice. It was an excellent performance. None of the men she contacted would have any idea what she really had in mind.

  “I’ll think about it.” He was taking a chance, but at the same time, he couldn’t be too much of a pushover. He had to keep it realistic. “Give me your number and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Don’t worry, honey,” she murmured. “I’ll call you.”

  The line went dead.

  Rob placed the phone back on the table and stared at Jo. “I may have blown it.”

  “What did she say? Was that her?”

  “I think so. She said she liked it rough, that she wanted me to teach her a lesson. She asked to come over to my place tomorrow night.”

  “And you said you’d think about it?”

  He nodded. “Do you think I’ve ruined it? Scared her off?”

  “No.” Jo shook her head. “I think you played it just right. If you’d been any keener, she may have smelled a rat.” She patted his arm. “Good job.”

  Rob still wasn’t sure. “What if she doesn’t call?”

  “Did you get her number?”

  “It’s on my phone. It’ll be a prepaid SIM, no doubt, but we can try and trace it, or at least analyse the call records. You never know, she may have used it before.” It was unlikely, but worth a shot.

  “Did you recognize her voice?” asked Jo.

  He thought for a moment. “No, I can’t say that I did. It wasn’t anyone from the agency.” They could be certain that the killer was using the forum as a hunting ground.

  Jo finished her drink and this time, she got up. “I’m going to leave you to organize your sting operation. It’s getting late and I’ve got an early start.”

  He stood up too. “This has been great, Jo. Thanks.”

  She grinned. “Let me know how it turns out.”

  “I will.”

  She leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Be careful, Rob.”

  He inhaled her soft, vanilla scent. “Always.”

  Chapter 35

  “I’m glad you called,” Rob said. “I’ve been thinking about you.”

  It was mid-afternoon on Sunday and Rob was in the incident room surrounded by most of his team. Even the Superintendent had overthrown years of tradition and come in on the weekend to oversee the operation.

  Rob had called Lawrence last night after he’d left the pub and told him about the phone call. The DSI had acted immediately. He’d instructed Rob to go ahead with the sting, that he’d approve any resources necessary. “Let’s catch this woman and get her off the streets before she can do any more damage.”

  After that, Rob had assembled the team and they’d been planning the takedown all morning. They were to use Will’s apartment in West Kensington. The block wasn’t as downmarket as Rob would have liked but it was in the right area and Will, who was on the ground floor, had a back entrance leading to a small porch area, so the killer (or the cops) wouldn’t be seen by the other residents in the block.

  The phone was on the table in front of him, on speaker so the whole room could hear. No one dared to breathe while the caller was on the line.

  “I’ve been thinking about you, Peter,” she purred. “Are we on for tonight?”

  Lawrence gave an imperceptible nod.

  “Sure, why not?” He tried to sound casual. Was it working? He wasn’t sure. His mouth was dry and the pulse beating erratically in his neck didn’t help matters. Keep cool. The eyes of his team were on him. “What time?”

  “How does six o’clock sound?” she said. “I’ll come to you.”

  “Okay. I live in West Kensington. Clarendon Place. Flat four. Come around the back.”

  “I know it,” the caller said. “See you later, darling.”

  He hung up. There was a moment’s silence, then everyone started talking at once.

  “Get on to SCO19,” snapped Lawrence, talking about the Specialist Firearms Command. “We need them here ASAP for a briefing.”

  “You’ll need a vest,” said Jenny.

  “Did we get a trace on the phone?” asked Mallory. They’d tried to get the call logs from the phone company but there weren’t any. It seemed the caller had only used the phone to contact “Peter”.

  “No.” Jeff was tapping away on his laptop. “She turned it off again.”

  Damn. Rob had been hoping for a fix on her location so they could monitor her movements. It would give them a heads-up as to when she was approaching Will’s flat later that evening. He glanced at his watch. Nearly two thirty. They had to be in position by five at the latest, which didn’t give them much time.

  * * *

  “You can’t go back to the flat,” Rob informed Will. “When I’m there, I’ll remove the photos and any personal items that might give the game away.”

  Will’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “Sure thing, guv.” He’d come from Vice, so this was right up his alley, and he was practically buzzing with adrenalin that the sting was going down at his apartment.

  “Everything relies on us apprehending this woman tonight,” the Superintendent pointed out. “If we fuck up, Will’s been irrevocably compromised.” The team sobered for a moment as reality set in. They were using a colleague’s apartment, the place where he lived. If the killer cottoned on to the setup, Will’s life would be in danger. Perhaps not tonight, but tomorrow, or the next day, or sometime in the future. They were taking a huge risk leading the killer there.

  Rob would have much preferred to use a more neutral location, but they didn’t have the time to find anywhere else. As he’d said to Jo, a motel was riskier and an Airbnb was out of the question. It would take weeks to find a place to rent and kit out.

  “It was my call,” Will pointed out. “I set it up. Besides, don’t worry. We’ll get her.”

  Rob wished he felt as positive, but his body was fraught with apprehension. She’d outsmarted them up until this point. He prayed she wouldn’t figure out what they were up to and put on the brakes. They only had one shot at this.

  “I’ll call the firearms unit.” Mike left the room.

  “You can’t go looking like that.” Jenny inspected him from head to toe. “You need to mess yourself up a bit. Pull out your shirt, dirty your jeans.”

  Will nodded. “Yeah, you’re not really the type to hire escorts, let alone rough them up.”

  “I can’t do anything about the way I look,” said Rob. Fortunately, he hadn’t shaved this morning, just in case she rang back. He hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, but now it was all going ahead.

  “You’re too good-looking to be a punter,” muttered Jenny, ruffling his hair.

  “It takes all types,” Rob remarked.

  Will nodded. “True, we just have to make you look less like a copper and more l
ike a biker. That’s what I envisioned, anyway.”

  “Why a biker?” asked Rob.

  Will shrugged. “My neighbour’s a biker.”

  The SCO19 team leader came in twenty minutes later. He was a big, tough-looking guy with a buzz cut and biceps the size of Christmas turkeys. Despite his size, however, he moved with ease and deftly sidestepped the other members of the team as he made his way to the briefing room. He exuded professionalism and competence.

  “Bruno Travis,” he said in a deep, gritty voice. He extended his hand.

  Rob shook it. “Good to have you on board.”

  They discussed the fundamentals of the operation. Rob was to be in the flat by four o’clock, getting into character. The armed police would conceal themselves in a nearby unmarked vehicle ready to act when the time came. A lookout would be stationed in the bushes facing the back porch, observing the killer as she approached. Will would open the back door when she arrived, and they’d take it from there. They wouldn’t act until she attacked. The knife had to be in her hand before the team responded. If the worst came to the worst, they had clearance to take her out.

  * * *

  It was three thirty. Rob left the office, drove to Will’s flat and got changed, attempting to get into character. He’d decided against the biker facade and instead wore dirty denim jeans with a grey hoodie over a Kevlar vest. The added layer bulked him up and made him appear more like the brutal bastard he was supposed to be. It was freezing outside, so he’d hiked up the heating. He hoped Will wouldn’t mind. He’d also taken Jenny’s advice and messed up his hair, using gel to make it stick up in all directions. By now, his stubble was a decent length, giving him a dirty, uncouth look. Hopefully it would be enough to fool the killer.

  The wait was excruciating. The closest he’d ever got to being undercover was when he’d posed as a shopper to apprehend a credit card thief. This was an active sting operation to ensnare a homicidal serial killer. Talk about jumping in at the deep end.

  He took all Will’s personal photographs down. It wouldn’t do for the killer to see a different man on display. It could raise some awkward questions. He messed up the apartment, cringing as he did so. He knew Will hated mess. He bounced on the bed, pulled some food wrappers out of the bin and scattered them on the kitchen countertop, left an empty coffee cup on the living-room table without a coaster and messed up the scatter cushions. He turned the television on to a game show, the false laughter filling the room and setting his nerves on edge.

  Five o’clock.

  Rob paced up and down the apartment. What the hell was he supposed to do for an hour? He pulled out his phone and called Travis to check his armed response team was in position.

  “Do you have a visual on the back porch?” Rob asked.

  “Not a hundred per cent,” came the terse reply. “The road doesn’t extend far enough around the block for a direct view. The best we can achieve is side-on, but the approach path around the back is in full sight, so we’ll see her coming.”

  That would have to do. Rob had watched them get ready and had been impressed by their attention to detail. The team were dressed head-to-toe in black, and with their kit on they looked very intimidating. Beneath their long-sleeved tops they wore Kevlar vests with ceramic plates that were knife and bullet resistant — identical to the one he was wearing. They had walkie-talkies on their shoulders attached to a microphone for communication to and from their team leader. They were armed with specialist mid-rifles with optical sights and magnification for both close-range and distance shots. Every man wore an additional sidearm in a thigh holster for close combat. Completing the terrifying picture were the fire-resistant face masks and lightweight Kevlar helmets that not only protected their faces and heads, but also hid their identity from their target.

  Rob felt this covert display of force might be overkill for one woman, but then she had murdered four men, overpowering several that were bigger and stronger than she looked in her hazy CCTV photo. It was better not to take any chances.

  They tested the listening devices one more time. They’d been set up so that Travis and his team could hear everything that was being said in the apartment. “Reading you loud and clear,” Travis confirmed.

  Rob knew there was also a sniper hiding in the treeline surrounding the property. He would hole up and wait for further instructions. If they couldn’t apprehend the attacker for any reason, the sniper would take the kill shot — and he wouldn’t miss.

  A chill went down Rob’s spine. The next hour would be agonizing.

  * * *

  Rob glanced at the wall clock in the kitchen. 5.47 p.m. Thirteen minutes to go, assuming she was on time. Hopefully, the icy weather wouldn’t put her off. So far, he’d avoided thinking about what could go wrong with this operation and it took all his willpower not to go there now. He was protected. There was an entire squadron of armed police out there. The revenge killer wouldn’t get away.

  Rob was tempted to switch off the telly. The beeps and pings from the game show were driving him mad. There was a beer bottle on the table. He’d poured himself a drink but hadn’t had any. He’d even swirled some around in his mouth and spat it out so that when he breathed on her, she’d smell the booze. That was a tip Will had given him.

  Finally, when the knock came, Rob’s pulse skyrocketed. She was here! He peered through the glass door that led out on to the back porch and saw a slim, shadowy figure standing under the porch light. Pasting a lecherous smile on his face he opened the door.

  Chapter 36

  “You Peter?”

  She wasn’t what Rob had expected. The woman standing outside on the porch was of average height with a curvy body and enormous breasts, obviously enhanced. He didn’t recall that from the CCTV photograph, but then the trench coat and grainy quality of the video could have hidden it.

  The goth make-up surprised him. Her lips were a dark plum, almost black, and she was wearing a tight leather skirt and a low-cut top under a faux fur coat that left little to the imagination.

  Is there a knife under there?

  “Yeah. Angelique?”

  She gave a sultry grin, her eyes raking over him. “In the flesh, baby.”

  Rob eyed her warily. At what point was she going to launch her attack? A scary thought shot through his mind. What if she wanted to have sex with him first? What if that’s what got her going? Sleeping with her victims before she slaughtered them? But no, that wasn’t her MO. He mustn’t panic.

  “You gonna invite me in, handsome?” Frigid air was seeping into the room.

  He stood back to let her through knowing full well she was now out of sight of the sniper. “Yeah, you want a drink?”

  She stepped inside and gazed around the open-plan lounge and kitchen area. In the light she looked older than he’d first thought. Maybe late thirties. “Sure.”

  He got a beer out of the fridge and handed it to her, careful not to turn his back. His senses were on high alert, braced for impact, but she accepted the bottle with a small nod of thanks and took a big gulp.

  “Nice place you got here.” She walked around admiring the quality of the sofa and the flat-screen television mounted on the wall.

  “Thanks.” What was she doing? Lulling him into a false sense of security? They hadn’t prepped for this scenario. He’d been certain she’d attack almost immediately. Conversation had not been part of the plan.

  Angelique, who was obviously used to such situations, sauntered over to him. She put her hands on his chest and smiled. “Do you want to get started? I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

  Rob hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Had she felt the vest beneath his hoodie? It appeared not. He glanced at the open porch door. The team outside wouldn’t react until he was threatened.

  He had no choice but to play along. But for how long? At what point did he call it quits? What if she didn’t attack and he had to go to bed with her? Would he go that far to catch a killer? Maybe she was testing him?

/>   Her eyes narrowed. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” He cleared his throat and grabbed her by the arm. Maybe she needed a display of violence before she lost it and started stabbing him. “Come here.”

  She obeyed, dropping her coat on the floor as she did so. Nope, there was no knife under there. His eyes roamed over her body. Nowhere to conceal it on her person either.

  Rob pulled her towards him and kissed her, hard. Hell, he hoped she was buying this. He let his hands roam over her waist and buttocks, ending with a hard squeeze. He heard her grunt in satisfaction. What he was actually doing was body-searching her. There was nothing hidden under her skirt, either. No concealed holster, no protruding weapon of any kind. She was clean.

  The woman leaned back but he could feel her breath on his face. It was heavy, like she’d enjoyed his show of dominance. “Take me to the bedroom,” she whispered.

  Rob was about to lead her down the passage when there was a knock at the front door. Thank God.

  “Leave it,” she said huskily, reaching for him.

  He pretended to hesitate. “I won’t be a sec,” and nodded towards the bedroom. “Get in there, I’ll be right back.”

  Another knock, louder this time. Rob opened the door and saw Travis standing there.

  “What’s going on?” the SCO19 officer asked. He’d left his helmet and visor in the van but was still carrying his automatic rifle.

  “It’s not her,” Rob hissed. “It’s a false alarm. She must be a genuine caller.”

  “Bloody hell. Now what?”

  “I’ll get rid of her,” Rob said.

  “How?” asked Travis.

  “It won’t be hard. I’m Peter the prick, remember.”

  “Shit. This was all for nothing.”

  Rob felt his frustration. “It looks like it.”

  “Okay, we’ll wait until she’s gone before we stand down.”

  Rob nodded. “Thanks.”

  “You coming, babe?” called a voice from the bedroom.

  Rob took a deep breath. “Hey, I’ve changed my mind. I’m going out with my mates. Get out.”