Be My Killer: A completely UNPUTDOWNABLE crime thriller with nail-biting mystery and suspense

by Richard Parker

  Lucas was close behind. ‘But no candles were left burning.’ He coughed and waved smoke from his eyes.

  Hazel couldn’t recall noticing an extinguisher mounted on any of the walls. Vandals had probably ripped them all down.

  ‘Need any help?’ Sheenagh was beside her.

  ‘You’d better head to the main entrance. I’m sure we can get this under control but I don’t want you breathing this in. Rena, take her outside!’

  ‘How the fuck did it catch light?’ Sweeting had joined them.

  ‘I’ll see if there’s an extinguisher in the production office.’ Hazel was already feeling her way to the stairwell door.

  ‘I’ll get the emergency services.’ Sweeting produced his phone.

  ‘No!’ Hazel snapped. ‘We can handle this.’

  Nobody responded. They knew why she didn’t want Sweeting to make the call. If the fire team were summoned, they’d condemn the location.

  Hazel found the door and pounded up the stairs two at a time. She bolted for the office but couldn’t find an extinguisher. Darting to the sleeping quarters, she stripped the sleeping bags from the cots before heading into the bathroom. She dumped them in the shower cubicle and wrenched the dial.

  She watched the jets soaking into the nylon. Jesus, what next? Perhaps the whole project had been jinxed from the beginning. She attempted to lift the soaked sleeping bags but they were double the weight. Dragging them to the other end of the corridor she yanked them down the stairs and back into the wall of smoke the other side of the door.

  Hazel made a beeline for the conflagration and joined Lucas, Sweeting and Weiss there.

  Lucas whacked the column with his jacket. ‘I smell petrol.’

  ‘Take one of these.’ Hefting one of the sleeping bags, she swung it at the middle of the shrine. It adhered and briefly the flames abated. Then it slid down, and the blaze intensified.

  Lucas slung his, and Sweeting quickly followed. They both stuck so only half the pillar was on fire.

  Hazel seized hers again and it was scorched and hissing. She could feel the heat tightening her face.

  Lucas and Sweeting’s dropped but Weiss hurled his. Hazel heaved and this time hers wrapped around the column. ‘Keep them coming!’

  A few moments later, the flames had been suffocated but they still had to retreat outside.

  ‘Put it out?’ Sheenagh had rolled herself another cigarette and lit it.

  Hazel took a few breaths and gagged. ‘It must have been deliberate.’ She straightened.

  Lucas wiped the moisture from his eyes. ‘Whoever started it, we’ve just lost our central icon.’

  ‘Did you get enough cutaways?’

  He sighed. ‘Jesus, Haze. Fossen’s split; the delivery date is yesterday, and our location has nearly burnt to the ground. D’you really need a GPS to locate the clusterfuck?’

  ‘Whatever you’ve been told about the schedule… ’, Hazel shot a glance at Rena, ‘is my problem not yours.’

  Weiss swiped a burning fragment of a Meredith photograph from his arm. ‘When were you going to level with us?’

  ‘Have you finished with me?’ Sheenagh exhaled smoke at them. ‘I’m getting dizzy from this little brush with Hollywood.’

  ‘I’ve got her cab waiting.’ Rena was eager to placate Hazel.

  ‘I’m at the motel just tonight?’

  Hazel nodded. ‘We’ll call you.’

  Sheenagh swung on her denim jacket, handed Lucas his Zippo lighter then followed Rena to the top of the ramp, where a cab driver had got out of his Chrysler and was watching the smoke being sucked out of the doorway.

  ‘Tell him not to raise the alarm and that everything’s under control!’

  Rena nodded emphatically at Hazel, clearly relieved she was still being spoken to.

  47

  Sweeting readjusted the strands of hair on his baldness. ‘You’re really expecting us to go back in there now?’ He nodded at the open main entrance as another cloud belched out.

  It wafted over Hazel, and she restrained a coughing fit. ‘Once the air’s cleared, there’s no reason we shouldn’t carry on.’

  He frowned hard at Lucas, as if passing a baton.

  He seized it. ‘Look, Haze, we know you’ve got a lot invested in this project… ’

  It was the last thing she needed to hear. ‘D’you have somewhere else to be?’ She fixed him coldly, any afterglow of their fleeting intimacy gone.

  ‘Matter of fact, I’ve put another gig on ice for this.’

  ‘So what are you saying? You wanna leave?’

  He puffed his cheeks and rolled his eyes. ‘Look, just take a breath for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I can’t do.’

  ‘You’ll find another distributor.’

  ‘No, Lucas, I won’t.’

  ‘After Isil Brides, there’s going to be no end of open doors.’

  ‘I’ve already given up on that delusion. Criteria’s it and there’s no latitude with the delivery. I’m already way behind.’

  Anticipating fireworks, Weiss clapped his hand on Sweeting’s shoulder. ‘Come on, let’s rescue the equipment.’ He dragged him back through the entrance.

  Hazel reacted a second too late. ‘Wait for the smoke to clear… ’

  But they’d disappeared back inside.

  She shook her head and watched Sheenagh getting into the cab. ‘So that’s it: you’ve all discussed this?’

  ‘Nobody’s got it in for you. Maybe the schedule’s impairing your judgement.’

  ‘Don’t you trust me?’

  ‘Of course I do. I just think you’re under a lot of stress, and that’s not good for thinking straight.’

  ‘I won’t close this down, Lucas.’

  ‘If you don’t have a crew, you might have to.’

  48

  April had returned the black sports bag to the microwave but had kept hold of the red ball on the strap and the folded pieces of paper she’d found in the front zipper. As soon as she’d seen the top photo she knew the other two would be of things she wasn’t meant to see so had walked out of Apriltown and into the cover of the trees.

  How long had she been wandering? She felt tempted to keep going, further and further into the forest, until she was positive the grown-up who had left the bag couldn’t possibly have followed her. Or was it because she wanted to put off inspecting the pictures?

  They were in the back pocket of her jeans, which were made of her dad’s old ones that her mother had cut up and adapted when he said he was throwing them away. They smelt of him, and the pockets were deep, even though her mother had shortened those as well. Wearing them made her feel like a grown-up.

  April didn’t feel like a grown-up now. Being alone with the photos made her think she might be sick. Was it because she’d taken the printouts without asking and feared being caught with them? Or was it because she knew they’d been hidden away for a reason? But even though she was frightened, April still wanted to look.

  There was no wind in the trees, only the sound of her circulation bumping her ears. April slid them out of her pocket and sat cross-legged on a cut trunk.

  The top one was of a man’s face. He had red hair, and his eyes were closed. He was her dad’s sort of age, maybe younger. The red ball was in his mouth. It was held in place by the strap, and his teeth were half-closed over it. That explained the dents and the strange smell. Was this a sport? Why wear something that made him so uncomfortable?

  But April knew she was studying something like her parents watched when she’d been put to bed. She lay awake sometimes, trying to work out what was making the sounds coming from the TV. Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the next one.

  It was the same man. His eyes were rolled in his head like one of the boys did at school to frighten her. And now he was wearing black lipstick. Was he sleeping? April examined his mouth closer. It wasn’t lipstick. His mouth was ragged and burnt. A tiny alarm sounded in her head.

  She opened th
e third. She knew she was seeing things that would give her nightmares. It was a skull, and it was burnt as well. And there were frazzled bits still clinging to the bone.

  April put the three images down beside her and gazed up at the still trees. Everything was the same. Maybe if she stopped now the pictures couldn’t do her any harm. She got to her feet and walked around them, keeping her gaze locked on the image of the man with the red hair. April ignored the skull.

  She needed to go now. Wanted to hear her parents’ voices, even if they were arguing. April picked up the photos and carefully folded them. Hiding them beneath the overhang of a bush with the ball and strap, she memorised their position. She broke two of the branches for good measure and, even though she still had hours of playtime left, headed for home.

  49

  Hazel surveyed the blackened shrine. ‘So, we’re agreed: this didn’t start by itself.’

  Lucas waved away one of the embers floating about. ‘I can still smell petrol.’

  The dead flowers and happy photographs had been scorched from the pillar. Cracked votive holders and pools of dirty set wax were the only remnants of it ever being a memorial. The sight chilled Hazel. It was a final violation of Meredith.

  Weiss circled the column. ‘Could it have been tweakers?’

  ‘I haven’t seen a sign of them yet,’ Sweeting replied.

  Weiss nodded. ‘Maybe Henrik? Or Jacob?’

  ‘So, we’re looking at arson and we’re still not calling the cops?’ Sweeting kicked a smouldering vase. ‘What about Sheenagh?’

  Hazel picked up a blackened teddy. ‘Didn’t see her within six feet of it. Look, I know you guys aren’t comfortable with everything we’re doing here but we only need a couple of days before we’re done.’

  ‘A couple of days?’ Weiss sounded sceptical.

  Sweeting gestured around. ‘And this is a crime scene we’re walking all over.’

  ‘Look, it’s your call.’ Hazel knew she had no leverage and had to make it their decision. ‘We can pull out now, regroup in the edit and see what’s left to shoot.’ She didn’t want to leave that option in the air too long.

  ‘We still have to come back here though.’ Sweeting sighed.

  Hazel nodded. ‘And whether or not I’ll be able to recall our interviewees is another matter.’

  ‘Aren’t we done with most of them?’ Lucas peeled a fragment of sleeping bag from the pillar.

  ‘We’ll still need their reactions when we reveal the face we showed them was our actor.’

  ‘And when were you planning to do that?’ he asked warily.

  ‘When they’ve all seen it. The responses so far certainly throw doubt on some of them.’

  ‘You mean Eve Huber? She’s just happily performing for you because she wants to keep exploiting her involvement. Henrik reacted as anyone would; Needham didn’t care; the Hickmans think it’s the police, and Sheenagh O’Connell had to be evacuated before she’d even seen it.’

  ‘I’d still like her to view the clip.’

  ‘What the hell for? She’s convinced her brother was killed by another junkie.’

  ‘Which reinforces the lone tourist theory. If I can confront the others about the fake footage and eliminate them I can focus on who really killed Meredith, Denise and Caleb.’

  Weiss halted. ‘But Henrik is still missing. And how are you aiming to find this lone tourist?’

  ‘I can already prove one individual could have flown between each of the remaining three states. An FBI flight manifest search for fake ID could be narrowed down.’

  ‘Simple as that,’ Lucas snorted. ‘What if they drove?’

  ‘Unlikely over those distances.’

  ‘And what if it really is more than one individual?’ Weiss slid his hands in his pockets.

  ‘I still don’t buy the idea that Henrik Fossen could have motivated three people to kill in one week.’ Hazel rubbed soot from her fingers.

  ‘Four. If you scratch O’Connell there’s still the European victim,’ Sweeting reminded her.

  ‘He’s already been dismissed because his killer never accessed social media.’

  Lucas took out a cigarette and slid it behind his ear. ‘But one of our participants could still be hiding something.’

  ‘Exactly, which is why we need to do our follow-up interviews. We have to exonerate them all.’

  ‘Think you can exonerate Eve Huber and the Hickmans?’ Weiss asked dubiously.

  ‘They’ll have to justify their reactions to the doctored clip.’

  ‘But the Hickmans didn’t know I’d concealed a mic. They genuinely believe Officer Soles was to blame.’

  ‘And I intend to get him on camera again, which we can’t do if we split now. Like I said, I want to make proving the theory as difficult as possible, and I’m keeping an open mind about everyone.’

  ‘But if we do carry on, are we comfortable working with an arsonist about?’

  Weiss had a point but at least he’d put it in the context of them continuing. It was the tiny opening Hazel needed. ‘Why did we stop shooting?’

  Lucas shook his head but the others shifted uncomfortably.

  ‘Whoever did it, this is a reaction to what we’re doing here. We should’ve kept recording.’

  Sweeting chimed in. ‘Has anybody considered that it could be this lone tourist Hazel’s talking about?’

  That had occurred to Hazel. Maybe it wasn’t Henrik Fossen or Jacob Huber at all. If so, she had to consider that somebody else didn’t like what she was doing at Fun Central. And she couldn’t think of a better reason to continue.

  ‘Just calm down, Sweeting. Nobody knows we’re here,’ Weiss placated.

  ‘Except Criteria, the local police and our interviewees,’ Hazel reassured. ‘And they’ve signed non-disclosure agreements. Despite Griff Needham’s attempts, we’ve kept a lid on it.’ Sweeting was getting paranoid but, she had to admit, Fossen’s disappearance and the fire were starting to put her on edge as well.

  Lucas blew air into his fist. ‘As Weiss says, it could have been Henrik or, more likely, Jacob Huber. We did kick him out of here, and he clearly has an axe to grind with us.’

  The crew looked nervously about the concourse.

  ‘After what we all experienced shooting Isil Brides, I assume none of us are going to be intimidated by him.’ Hazel searched their expressions.

  Sweeting put up his hand. ‘I wasn’t on that shoot and I am intimidated by him.’

  ‘Duly noted.’ She indicated the shrine. ‘But this has now become part of our investigation. We can talk further but, for the moment, can we please get some footage?’

  Nobody responded to Hazel’s attempts at marshalling them.

  ‘There’s barely enough smoke left. If we hurry, I can do a piece in front of it.’

  Lucas folded his arms. ‘What do you want to do? Set it on fire again?’

  Before she could respond, Rena trotted into the concourse from outside.

  ‘Eve Huber’s just rolled up. Says it’s urgent.’

  50

  Hazel followed Rena to the main entrance. ‘What does she want?’

  ‘She won’t tell me,’ Rena replied, peeved. ‘Says she only wants to speak to you.’

  They hurried outside, and there was a taxi idling in the parking zone, leaves circling it as if readying for attack.

  Eve had the back window rolled down. ‘What the hell’s happened here?’ She looked beyond them to the last wisps of smoke drifting out of the doorway.

  ‘Amateur pyromaniac; nothing we can’t handle.’

  ‘I’m looking for Jacob. He headed out yesterday morning, and I haven’t seen him since.’

  ‘He was here yesterday morning. Came looking for Fossen. We had to ask him to leave.’

  Eve’s expression curdled. ‘That skunk.’

  ‘We haven’t seen him since he walked out of here drunk. Could still be hanging around though.’ Hazel waited for the significance of that to sink in.

  ‘He�
�s always drunk. Had so many hairs of the dog it’s completely bald. But he’s always around to help me take my meds. Took my car, so this cab’s going to cost me a fortune.’

  ‘He was pretty aggressive to the Hickmans and my crew. And now we’ve had our mini inferno… ’

  The penny dropped, and Eve nodded with resignation. ‘Well, I’d like to say he isn’t capable, but I’d be lying.’

  ‘He’s set fires before?’

  ‘He’s damaged property in the past.’

  ‘What about his phone?’

  ‘Only getting his answering service.’

  ‘Rena, can you take a good look around for him?’

  She gaped. ‘Now?’

  ‘He could be sleeping it off somewhere. Maybe check the pond.’

  ‘Is this a punishment?’

  ‘Rena – no time.’ Hazel turned back to Eve. ‘We’re in the middle of a set-up. D’you mind waiting here while Rena scouts around?’

  ‘This isn’t like him,’ Eve said to herself and distractedly tucked a ringlet under her headscarf.

  ‘Can you do that for me, Rena?’

  Rena sighed heavily, swivelled and strutted off.

  Hazel ignored her tantrum. ‘Give me ten minutes, Eve. That’ll give Rena time to search for him. Have you taken your meds?’

  ‘Of course I have. I’m not brain-dead.’

  ‘OK. Ten minutes.’ Hazel strode quickly back to the crew.

  51

  Hazel paced slowly around the sooty pillar while Lucas walked backwards in front of her with the camera. Weiss and Sweeting were crouching out of shot.

  ‘Someone resents our presence here. Two seconds, I’ve still got to catch my breath.’ She did so and composed herself. ‘It appears our presence in Broomfield has provoked an extreme reaction. Midway through recording an interview, the crew had to quickly exit because of a sudden fire. Thankfully, everybody was in a different location when this memorial was set ablaze but we’re convinced it was no accident. Now, this is all that remains of the place where Meredith Hickman lost her life, the place her friends left their messages and tributes.’ Hazel looked down at the debris, and Lucas followed with the lens.