by Helen Phifer
‘What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be at school?’
He shook his head. ‘Sorry, felt sick. Teacher said I could come back here and see you.’
Vincent smiled at him. ‘Get yourself a drink of milk and some biscuits, then take them upstairs. There’s a good lad. I’m working.’
He did as he was told, spilling milk all over the worktop his hands were trembling that much. Carrying the glass and three digestives up to his room, he used his foot to slam the door shut. He didn’t know if his hands were shaking with excitement over what he’d just seen or whether it was because he’d been sure he was going to have one final showdown with his dad one last time. He did know that the woman wasn’t a good person and the vicar was even more of a pervert than he was. But where was his dad? He wouldn’t be happy to know what his girlfriend was doing with the vicar, would he? He’d probably beat the crap out of him and her if he ever found out.
He lay on his bed trying to imagine what it would be like to be the one giving out the punches to the people who deserved them, instead of being the one on the receiving end for a change. He knew that when he was old enough he was going to come back and do the same to his dad. He might think he’d got away with beating up him and his mum, but he hadn’t. One day he’d be standing over him, punching, kicking and spitting on him to see how he liked it. When he’d finished with his dad he’d find the woman because she’d been going with his dad when his mum was dying and that was unforgivable. Then letting every man she knew do stuff to her… she was a dirty slut. Like his dad, she deserved everything that was coming her way.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lucy sighed when she drove up the street and saw every single light was on inside the house. It meant Ellie was there and, as much as she loved her angry teenage daughter, she was too tired for any drama tonight. Walking in through the unlocked front door she had to grit her teeth – no matter how many times she told her to keep the house secure when there were no adults home she didn’t. Anyone could walk straight in, steal anything of value and be gone before Ellie, whose usual attire included a pair of earphones permanently stuffed into her eardrums – blaring out whatever her music of choice – even noticed. Although Lucy wouldn’t have a clue what to do with the Spotify that she paid for every month without Ellie setting up her playlists for her.
‘Ellie?’
No answer, but she could hear footsteps upstairs. Lucy kicked off her shoes and ran up just in case it wasn’t her daughter and she was being burgled. Ellie walked out of the bathroom and jumped to see her.
‘Christ mum, you gave me a fright.’
‘Evening to you too. Why was the front door unlocked?’
Her daughter rolled her eyes, making Lucy bite her tongue.
‘I forgot.’
‘So, to what do I owe this pleasure? Have you upset Rosie again?’
‘No, she’s a bitch. She’s even moodier than you. I wanted to come home and ask you if it’s okay if I babysit for Natalia and her husband.’
‘Natalia?’
‘The lady from the church with the really cute kid. She said she hasn’t got a regular babysitter and if I wanted to help her out she’d pay me twenty quid each time. She’s nice, and her husband has the Italian off the high street.’
‘What did your dad say?’
‘It was okay as long as you were happy.’
Ellie stared at her, arms crossed waiting for her reply. Lucy didn’t know the family, but she knew the restaurant and as far as she was aware there were no issues.
‘I suppose so. I want you to give her my mobile number, then she can ring me if there’s any problems. Promise?’
‘Really? Thanks, and of course I will. She wants me to babysit tomorrow night while she helps at Street Saviours. As soon as Tony comes home I’ll get a taxi back.’
‘What’s Street Saviours? I’ve never heard of it.’
‘It’s where they open the church hall late on a weekend night. They go out with flip-flops and lollipops, hand them out to the drunks to stop them fighting. If people are really hammered they take them back to the hall, give them a bacon bun and coffee to sober them up.’
Lucy could feel her mind begin to whir into action. Maybe Sandy Kilburn had been there or helped out, and she was pretty sure Margaret would have helped out with it. This could be their connection to the church and David Collins.
‘It’s a good idea, though I find it hard to believe Natalia spends so much time helping out at church when she has a busy restaurant to run. Have you eaten?’
Ellie laughed. ‘Yeah, but I’m starving. Can we order pizza? I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I knew Nat owned the Italian.’
Lucy smiled. ‘Already have some on its way.’
Her daughter walked across the room and high-fived her. ‘You know when you’re not cranky I love you.’
Wrapping her arms around her, she hugged her and whispered, ‘Yeah, same here, kid.’
They sat on the sofa staring at the two huge pizza boxes; Lucy was stuffed and happy. Nothing made her quite so happy as a meat feast with extra cheese. Ellie stood up, groaning.
‘I think I’m about to explode, is it okay if I get a bath and go to bed?’
Lucy, who was already showered and in her pyjamas, nodded. ‘I’m knackered, I’m going to bed soon. Night, Ells.’
As Ellie ran up the stairs she shouted, ‘Night, Mum.’
When she heard the bath taps begin to run, she dragged her laptop towards her and waited for Google to load so she could begin to check out David Collins: she needed to know as much about him as possible before she let her daughter anywhere near him again. For all she knew he could be their killer. Of all the places on the list from school to volunteer why did Ellie have to pick that church? She would have thought she would have run a mile from a church, it just showed how much she didn’t know about her own daughter. Tonight had been a rare example of how their relationship should be – tomorrow, when she told Ellie to keep away from there, it was going to cause a major shitstorm. Knowing her daughter, she would do the complete opposite of what she was told, so she might have to go about it a different way. Starting tomorrow, Lucy was going to be keeping a very close eye on David until she had some concrete proof to bring him in for questioning.
Chapter Thirty-Two
He took the small gift box that her birthday present had come in from the back of the drawer and sat on the dining room chair. Placing the box on the table in front of him, he stared at it. The excitement of just knowing what was inside, it made his heart race. He knew it was wrong to have it here, in his home, but he didn’t know where else to keep it. He wanted it close; no, he needed it close, so he could touch the contents and look at them whenever he had the chance. The house was peaceful for a change, no noise, no television or radio blaring and no raised voices. It was him and his Pandora’s Box. Opening the lid, he stared at the white, plastic, vulgar button earrings. Wondering why she’d chosen to wear these or a different coloured variation of them every single day of her life. Whenever he’d seen her being screwed by one man or another she’d had a pair of them in her ears. They were vile, gaudy and cheap, which he supposed was a good description of her because she had also been vile, gaudy and very cheap. A voice in his head whispered did that mean she had to die? Shaking his head from side to side he had to get rid of his inner voice of reason because it spoke far too loudly some days. Yes, she had to die, he reassured himself. The minute he set eyes on her again that night, when she’d been helped into the church hall a drunken, sobbing mess, he’d realised who she was. Sandy Kilburn’s earrings had sealed her fate. He’d never before seen anyone else stuck in an eighties time warp and still wearing them. She was full of dirty secrets that he didn’t want exposing to the world, so he’d had to silence her. The only problem was, when he’d finished and realised what a work of art he’d created, he’d known that there was no going back to how his life had been. The thrill of killing her had been the biggest exciteme
nt of his life when he’d stepped away from her bloodied, bleeding body. Killing his father had been a murder of necessity, something that he’d had coming. Portraying to the world the image of a pious, righteous man was the biggest fuck you to God he knew of. Then home, behind closed doors, sleeping with anything in a skirt and beating his wife and son until they were bruised and bleeding. The man had been the biggest hypocrite that he knew, leading a double life until the day he’d finished it. There was something his dad had taught him well: how to live two lives without anyone raising an eyebrow or even having an inclination about it.
Killing small animals had been a hobby of his as he’d got older and angrier at the shit life he’d been cursed with. They’d filled the gap, the yearning inside of him quite well. His first murder when he was fifteen had been one of necessity; the old bastard had deserved it and had it coming in every sense. Expecting the guilt to kick in after he’d walked away, it hadn’t. The guilt never came, the same as it did with the animals. Cats were the easiest, the streets were full of them. Especially after dark – there were too many to choose from. Not once in the following years did he ever ask himself if they deserved to die, so why was this happening now? He’d done a pretty good job of keeping the doctor’s appointments and medication hidden from her over the years. But he’d thrown it all away a couple of weeks ago, flushed it down the toilet. He didn’t need it now; he was the strongest and felt better than he’d ever felt since he’d been that sad, angry loner of a teenager. His life had turned out a lot better than he’d imagined it could. He didn’t touch the earrings, afraid he might catch some disease from them, but he did pick up the delicate gold crucifix. Lifting it out of the box he held it up to the light; there were a few dark spots on it, and he knew they were blood. He needed to clean it properly: when he was next alone he’d drop it into some Coke to soak, that stuff pretty much rotted everything.
Movement upstairs made him drop the chain back into the box. Snapping the lid shut he pulled open the dresser drawer. Pushing it down at the back, pulling some papers and letters in front of it. He stood up and went into the kitchen. It was time to pretend everything was good in his life. He had to make sure she thought he was the same man she’d married. If she got a whiff of the change in him she’d be suspicious – he wasn’t sure of what, but she would definitely pick up on the change in his demeanour. He had to carry out the act of his perfect life, so he could carry on doing what he really wanted to do. Kill.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lucy arrived at the station the same time as Mattie, and he waited for her to park her car into the smallest, last space available – this was why she loved her tiny car.
‘Morning.’
‘Morning, Mattie, I spoke to Tom.’
‘What did he say?’
‘You were right – but this is just between us. He’s having an affair – or was; I have no idea if it’s all done with now, because Alison has found out and left him.’
He stared at her. ‘Christ, as if he needed that on top of everything else.’
‘It wasn’t my fault, I had to know the truth. I’d rather it was this than us dragging him in for questioning as a suspect.’
‘I suppose so. Poor bloke, I bet he’s in a right state.’
Lucy bit her tongue. She didn’t condone what he’d been doing because she knew what it was like first-hand to be the partner of a cheating spouse, but it was none of her business, and she wouldn’t let how she felt influence their friendship or working relationship. She felt sorry that he’d lost his mum under such horrific circumstances, but there wasn’t one ounce of sympathy about his marriage situation; in her view, if you play with fire you’re going to get burnt.
‘Yeah, his life is a mess at the moment. I’m sure he’ll get it back on track. I was going to ask Browning to go and speak to this Sara Cross who he’s been sleeping with to confirm his alibi, but I’d rather you did it.’ She handed him the ripped piece of newspaper. ‘Now, if possible, and you can bring me back a bacon buttie, please, smothered in tomato sauce and butter.’
‘Because you asked so nicely, I will. I’m not moving my car though, I’ll never get parked again.’
Walking in through the double doors to the corridor where the car keys were all hanging on white boards he grabbed a set and turned around. ‘I suppose you want a vanilla latte to go with it?’
She fluttered her eyelids at him. ‘Yes, please.’ She threw a £20 note in his direction. ‘Get yourself the same, my treat.’
‘You’re far too kind.’
By the time he came back she had typed up a list of everything that needed doing and gone through the intelligence system to see if David Collins was on there. He wasn’t, and she’d been more than a bit disappointed, as she’d been hoping to find something on him. Mattie sat in the chair opposite her, pushing her breakfast towards her.
‘You will be very pleased to know that Sara Cross – after having a major fucking shit fit – did confirm that yes, he was with her for an hour after he left work. She hasn’t seen him since; he hasn’t even phoned her to tell her about his mum and Alison leaving him, so she’s pretty pissed off with him as well. I think I might have to give our Tommy a lesson on keeping up with his love life and how to handle women. It’s basic rules: you don’t ignore the woman you’re having an affair with, do you? I mean if she gets too arsy she could turn up at his house and make it a thousand times worse than it already is.’
Lucy couldn’t help roll her eyes. ‘How kind of you, what a thoroughly decent person you are. Thanks for that, at least we can leave him alone now to grieve. Not sure how he’s going to sort his love life out; though, to be fair I don’t care. It’s his mess, let him clean it up himself; the last thing you want to do is get involved.’
‘You know this is my last shift, don’t you? I fly early hours; but if you need me to stay and work the case I can cancel.’
She felt her heart sink. She’d forgotten all about his impending holiday. ‘Don’t be daft, I can manage without you for a couple of weeks.’
‘Sure about that? Because I’m not. Promise me you’ll at least try and keep yourself out of trouble.’
‘Positive, you have a great time. I want you to drink lots of cocktails for me. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get my own breakfast though, I’ll probably starve to death and be dead by the time you come back.’
He laughed. ‘You better not, as much as you’re a pain in the backside I’d rather work for you than anyone else. So what’s the plan for today? You might as well use and abuse me before the end of my shift.’
‘Today I want to find out as much about David Collins as possible. We need to go back and speak to the lovely couple about a project they run from the church hall. Have you heard of Street Saviours?’
He nodded. ‘Aren’t they the God squad who go out helping the piss cans of a weekend?’
‘Why has everyone heard of them but me? Ellie told me about them last night. I think if we can link Sandy Kilburn to them and Margaret we’ll have our connection to the vicar. Then we can bring him in for questioning.’
‘You really think he’s good for it?’
‘I think he’s up to something. I don’t trust him. I’d like to get him in for interview and ruffle his feathers. See how he reacts when he’s questioned.’
‘Risky, he’s a pillar of the community. His ferocious ferret of a wife isn’t going to be too happy about it either. You could cause uproar, not to mention upset his loyal parishioners.’
‘Tough, I don’t care about his reputation. I care about finding the sick bastard who killed Sandy and Margaret. Up to now we haven’t had any other leads, so it’s better than nothing.’
Mattie left her to finish her breakfast in peace. Lucy needed to get things moving and fast before it happened again.
Chapter Thirty-Four
October 1994
The streets were filled with little kids dressed up as ghosts and witches, running around screeching and knocking on doors.
He’d never really celebrated Halloween. He’d always wanted to, but his dad wouldn’t let him. Said it was against God’s wishes and it was like celebrating the Devil’s existence. How he’d had the cheek to dismiss Halloween because of his ‘religion’, yet beat up his wife and child was beyond him. He hadn’t had a lot of friends to go out with anyway; there were none his father approved of, and each year he’d watch the kids wearing cut-up sheets from his bedroom window. It was different now; the costumes were much better. More and more kids were out walking the streets while trick or treating; it was the perfect cover for what he had to do.
The train had taken longer than he’d expected to get back to Brooklyn Bay; he had to be back at the children’s home by ten. The foster parents he’d lived with had told the social worker they couldn’t cope with his unruly behaviour and he’d been sent to a home. He couldn’t afford to be late; he needed to do what he had to do then get back there so they didn’t wonder where he was. As he turned into the street with his coat zipped up to his nose and the black beanie hat on, the only things you could see were his eyes. He felt his heart hammering inside his chest, a combination of fear at facing his dad for the last time and excitement that he was finally going to give the bastard what he deserved making it hard to keep calm. As the house came into view, his house, where he’d spent most of the time a quivering wreck, he paused. Staring at it, he noticed a single light bulb was burning in the upstairs bedroom. He reached the front gate which wasn’t shut because it was hanging off its hinges. The house looked even more run-down and shabby than when he’d lived there, which didn’t surprise him because his dad hadn’t maintained it when his mum was alive. After she died, he didn’t even bother replacing light bulbs that burnt out. Checking the street until he was satisfied that no one was paying any attention to him, he crossed the road. The only people around were a bunch of young kids knocking on doors further up, laughing and screeching as they shared out with each other the crappy sweets they’d been given.
