The Doll's House

by Tania Carver

  The kitchen wasn’t as bad as Marina had been expecting. ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘Looks just like mine when I was a student.’

  They both smiled politely. Maddy made tea for Marina, served it in the least brown mug she could find, sat down opposite her. She looked apprehensive, like she was steeling herself for a blow.

  ‘Your housemates around?’ asked Marina.

  ‘No, they’re… I don’t know. Not here.’

  ‘Partied out. Didn’t get home.’ Marina smiled once more. ‘Look. It’s about Hugo Gwilym. After I’d seen you in the café the other day, the state you were in, I guessed what had happened. I knew he was responsible.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘The way you looked and acted.’ Marina’s eyes went to Maddy’s bandaged wrist. She said nothing. Maddy covered the bandage with her dressing gown sleeve. ‘The thing is, Maddy, he did something similar to me. Drugged me. And then…’ She couldn’t bring herself to say the next few words. She closed her mouth, not trusting herself. She could feel tears beginning to well. She fought them back. She took a deep breath, another. Wiped the corners of her eyes, aimed for a smile. ‘Well, you know the rest, I’m sure. The thing is, we can’t let him get away with it. We’ve got to stop him.’

  Maddy glanced at the door once more, but there was no one there. She looked back at Marina. ‘I know. That’s exactly what…’ Another look round. ‘Exactly what I’ve been thinking.’

  ‘Good,’ said Marina. ‘We’re not the first that he’s done this to.’

  ‘I know,’ said Maddy, excitedly. ‘I heard about what he did to another girl before me. It was… horrible.’ It was her turn to hold back the tears now.

  ‘Look, my husband’s a detective in the police.’ Maddy’s eyes widened at the statement. ‘And I’ve got another friend, she’s a police officer too. She’s coming to meet me. They’ll help. But I can’t do it on my own.’

  ‘What… what d’you want me to do?’

  ‘I need you to give a statement to my friend. I know it’ll be difficult, but she’ll help. She’ll make it the best it can be for you. We can stop him. But only if you help me. Will you do that?’

  Maddy thought about it, glanced at the doorway again and nodded.

  Marina smiled. ‘That’s brilliant, thank you, Maddy.’

  Maddy smiled shyly. ‘We were already going to do something,’ she said.

  ‘We? Who’s we?’

  ‘My boyfriend and I. We were going to —’

  ‘She doesn’t need to hear all that.’

  The two women looked up. Marina saw a tall, dark-haired young man standing in the doorway. Handsome, well-dressed. He was smiling, but Marina didn’t get a friendly vibe from him.

  ‘Oh,’ said Maddy, as if she had been interrupted doing something she shouldn’t have been. ‘This is Marina Esposito. She’s a lecturer at the university.’

  Marina stood, extended her hand. He took it. His smile flicked at the corners of his mouth like blades catching the light. ‘And you are?’

  ‘My name’s Ben,’ he said.

  ‘Marina’s going to help us,’ said Maddy. ‘With Hugo. Her husband’s a police officer. He’s going to stop him.’ She smiled. ‘So we can all work together.’

  Ben kept him smile pinned in place. ‘Well thank you,’ he said, ‘but we don’t need any help.’

  Maddy looked upset. ‘But Ben, he did the same to her. She can help…’

  Ben looked straight at Marina, ignoring Maddy. His voice was soft, low, like the slithering of a snake through a jungle. ‘I said we don’t need any help. The matter is in hand.’

  Marina looked at Maddy. Saw pain, disappointment and confusion vying for space behind her eyes. Poor kid, she thought. Has she just got away from one manipulative man to go straight into the arms of another?

  ‘I see,’ she said. She turned away from Ben, faced Maddy directly. Tried to stop her looking at him before answering her. ‘Look, Maddy, it would help if you came with me. Please.’ She glanced at Ben, aware of his presence; back to Maddy, her voice low once more. Co-conspirators. ‘Please, Maddy. What I’m proposing is for your own good.’

  ‘She’s not interested,’ said Ben, moving round, blocking Maddy from her.

  ‘I’d like to hear Maddy say that herself,’ said Marina.

  Ben turned to Maddy. Stared at her. Maddy looked between the two of them, genuinely torn. Eventually she wilted. ‘I’d better do what Ben says,’ she said.

  Marina shook her head. Handed her a card. ‘Here. My number. If you ever change your mind. If you find you want to talk to me.’

  She took it. Ben stared at her.

  ‘I’ll see myself out.’

  Marina walked out of the house into the street and away. The sky was dark and oppressive. Even that felt lighter than the atmosphere between Ben and Maddy, she thought.

  76

  P

  hil stepped over the threshold, on to the boat. Focused. Processed. Assessed the situation.

  A mess. A dead body in the middle of it. But more than that.

  Before he went any further, he spoke to one of the two anoraked women standing on the jetty. Both of them looked drained. ‘Which one of you found the body?’

  They looked at each other. One wanted to speak more than the other. ‘DC Pam Chapman,’ she said. ‘We both did.’

  ‘Has he got a name?’

  ‘Scott Sheriff,’ she replied. ‘He was on the list of local violent sex offenders. We were checking him out.’

  ‘I’ll bet he’ll be the last call you make today.’

  She smiled slightly.

  Phil thanked her and went inside, crossing to Jo Howe, the FSI team leader. ‘What have we got, then?’

  ‘White male, short, stocky, bit paunchy. Looks like an attack.’ She pointed to the body. ‘Or a sex game that went wrong. Look.’

  Phil looked. The man’s jeans and underwear were down round his ankles. A leather belt was pulled tight round his neck. It looked like he had been attacked, half his face resembling raw mince. The eye that wasn’t swollen shut was bulging, face turning purple. His fingers were at his neck.

  ‘Leave the body for Esme,’ said Phil. ‘See what she makes of it. What about the rest of the place, what have you got?’

  ‘Well,’ said Jo, ‘looks like he lived alone. And looks like he let his attacker in. No sign of a forced entry. The area of struggle was here’ – she indicated the main living area – ‘nothing on the kitchen, bathroom, anywhere else. Localised.’

  ‘That should help,’ said Phil. He thanked her, turned to the shelves. Scanned the book spines. Mostly non-fiction. True crime. Life stories of famous serial killers. A couple of encyclopedias, a dictionary. Wanted to better himself, he thought. Then looked at the serial killer books again. Maybe not better himself. But he might have had an ambition for something.

  He scanned further, gently removing tattered magazines with his gloved fingers. Extreme bondage. Mainly gay. Looked well read. He went back up to the top of the shelf, picked off a serial killer book at random. It was about Ted Bundy. The spine was heavily creased. He allowed it to open naturally. He looked at the page. It was heavily annotated. Notes in the margins, passages underlined. The section dealt with Bundy stalking and selecting victims. The notes questioned his techniques, offering variations, suggesting improvements. One comment said quite simply: More rope. Bigger KNIFE. The last word underlined so heavily the pen had gone through the paper.

  Phil put the book back, took down another one. The same thing. He got the picture. Felt a prickling on the back of his scalp.

  He looked round the room again. Something caught his eye. A doll’s house, lying on its side, furniture spilled out. Curious, he knelt, examined it. It was old, well-used, made of cheap, heavy plastic. It had been cleaned up, the felt-tip pen marks scrubbed away, the dirt erased, but it would never look good again. The furniture was in a similar condition.

  Then he saw the doll.

  Lying beside t
he man’s head, blonde, smiling. It looked familiar. Or the clothes looked familiar. He had seen someone wearing something similar recently… He placed it. It looked like Glenn McGowan. Or rather Amanda. In the DVDs, in the flesh.

  The prickling disappeared. He felt a fizzing inside him. He was on to something. He pushed the doll’s house back with a gloved finger, looked underneath. There were two other dolls there. Different to the first one. One was a male doll with its legs cut off. The other was similar to the first, female, blonde, but this one looked like it had been stabbed repeatedly. Frenziedly.

  He replaced the house, stood up. Thought. Something jarred about those two dolls. Something very specific. He closed his eyes. It was fairly recent…

  He opened them again, feeling like he had just had an electric shock. He took out his phone, called Sperring. Waited for the man to answer.

  ‘Phil Brennan,’ he said. ‘Listen. That double murder in Edgbaston you’re working. Tell me about it.’

  ‘What d’you want to know?’ Sperring couldn’t have sounded more reluctant if he’d had his tongue removed.

  ‘Victims. Details. What they looked like, what they had done to them, that kind of thing.’

  A sigh. ‘Keith Burkiss. Male. Mid forties. Lost both legs to diabetes, had stage four cancer —’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Stage four cancer.’

  ‘The bit before. Lost both legs to diabetes?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘How was he killed?’

  ‘Smothered with a pillow, it looked like.’

  ‘And the other one?’

  ‘His wife. Well, estranged wife. Kelly Burkiss. She was a right mess.’

  ‘Was she cut?’

  ‘Yeah. Loads of times. Whoever did it didn’t like her.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What’s this about?’

  ‘Tell you when I see you.’ He hung up. Looked back at the dolls. Then round at the room again. ‘Have the cupboards been gone through?’ he asked Jo Howe.

  ‘Not yet,’ she said.

  ‘Fine.’ He crossed to a small chest of drawers placed up against one wall. Began pulling them out in order. The top two contained clothes, but the ones nearer the bottom didn’t. Restraints. Dildos. Big black ones. Whips. Nothing wrong with that, thought Phil, not in and of itself. And not proof of anything. He pulled open the next drawer. Smiled. A knife.

  ‘A big knife,’ he said aloud. ‘Bigger than Ted Bundy’s.’

  He knew better than to touch it. He tried another drawer. His smile got wider. A black wig and moustache. Identical to the ones in the video.

  ‘Gotcha,’ said Phil.

  There was one more thing he had to check. He crossed to the body, knelt beside it. Pulled back its right sleeve.

  ‘Careful,’ said Jo Howe. ‘Leave that for Esme.’

  ‘Oh I’m being careful, don’t you worry,’ said Phil. He peeled back the sleeve a little more. And there it was. A double helix tattoo.

  He let the sleeve drop back into place, stood up. Or as much as the cramped interior would allow him to.

  ‘I think we’ve got our man,’ he said. Then looked round the room again, taking everything in one more time. The books, the doll’s house, the wig, the knife… Perfect.

  Or at least that’s what someone wants us to think…

  77

  M

  addy walked up the pathway to Hugo Gwilym’s front door, trying to remember all the things Ben had told her she should be. Strong. No bullshit. In charge. She kept trying, saying those words over and over in her head like a mantra, but other thoughts kept creeping in, getting in the way.

  The way Ben had behaved in front of Marina. The way he had made her behave. She had felt useless when Marina left, pathetic and weak. She had also felt like she had done the wrong thing. Or been persuaded to do the wrong thing. And she disliked herself because of it.

  But Ben had talked her round. ‘Don’t listen to her,’ he had said. ‘We don’t need her. I’ve got it all sorted out. It’ll be fine.’ He had taken her face in his hands then, turned it up so she had no choice but to look at him. It was the first time she’d realised just how strong his grip was. He had smiled. ‘You just do as I say, and everything will work out for the best. OK?’

  And Maddy had nodded and agreed.

  But now she felt anything but OK. Doubts were hammering at the certainty Ben had tried to instil in her. She thought she should listen to them. Even act on them, maybe. But as she approached Gwilym’s front door and felt her hand go towards the bell, she realised she wasn’t going to. It was easier to do what Ben wanted. Less trouble. Safer. For her.

  She kept her hand on the bell. He could ignore it at first, but if she was insistent, he would have to come down and see who was there. He did so. Opened the door wearing his dressing gown and an angry expression. Which changed to shock and bewilderment when he saw who it was.

  ‘Maddy? What are —’

  She didn’t give him time to finish, just swept past him, down the hall and into the living room.

  ‘Maddy, you can’t just…’ He followed her in.

  She stood in the centre of the room, turned to him. ‘I need to talk to you, Hugo. Urgently. Now.’

  He looked round. His hair was unkempt, his stubble a little more than designer, coming in very grey. His eyes dark-rimmed, sunken. He looks old, she thought. What did I see in such an old man?

  ‘Maddy, it’s… it’s not convenient right now. Come back… Look, why don’t we —’

  ‘Not convenient?’ she said, finding the strength to go with her words. ‘You mean you’ve got someone here, is that it? Didn’t take you long.’

  He began to make a half-hearted protest but soon stopped.

  ‘Now, Hugo. It has to be right now. Say no and you’ll be sorry. Very sorry.’

  He saw something in her eyes, her manner, and knew he would have to do what she said. ‘Give me… give me a minute.’

  He left the room, going back upstairs. Maddy went into the hall, unlocked the front door, left it on the latch, went back into the living room where she had been standing. She heard voices from upstairs, a woman’s raised, his placating. Soon, a young woman came hurrying down the stairs, still fastening her clothes. She looked into the living room, saw Maddy. Wasn’t happy.

  ‘You’re well out of it,’ said Maddy.

  The young woman grabbed her coat and left, slamming the door behind her.

  Gwilym re-entered the room. ‘This better be good.’

  ‘Oh it is, Hugo.’ She knew what she had to say next. Ben had rehearsed her. ‘I’m going to go to the police, Hugo.’

  ‘The police? Why?’

  ‘Tell them you raped me.’

  ‘Oh Maddy, that’s just rubbish. There’s no need to do that.’

  ‘Yes there is, Hugo.’

  ‘Look…’ He crossed towards her, smile in place, arms outstretched. ‘Let’s talk about this. It ended badly, I know, but —’

  ‘I’ve got proof,’ she said, cutting him off.

  His mood changed suddenly. ‘Proof? What kind of proof?’

  She smiled. She enjoyed seeing his reaction. Enjoyed having the upper hand with him for once. ‘Proof that you were the father of our child.’

  ‘You can’t prove that. It’s… it’s gone.’

  She remembered the lines she had rehearsed. ‘It’s not, Hugo. I couldn’t go through with it.’

  Gwilym’s face had drained of colour. He looked like he had aged ten years in as many seconds. ‘What d’you mean?’

  ‘I kept it, Hugo.’

  ‘You’re… you’re lying.’

  ‘No I’m not.’ She rubbed her stomach, advanced towards him. ‘Here it is, Hugo, here’s your child… Want to feel?’

  He backed away from her, letting out a moan that sounded like the final breath of a wounded animal.

  ‘A simple DNA test,’ she said, still advancing. ‘That’s all it’ll take. I’ll show them the marks o
n my wrist. I’ll tell them that you raped me.’

  Gwilym looked round frantically, like he was trapped.

  ‘And I wasn’t the first, was I, Hugo? You like to do this. Take a young woman, seduce her to get her pregnant, or worse…’ Maddy kept advancing. She could feel anger rising within her. Rage at what he had done to her, at how she had been so stupid as to let him. She wanted to lash out, hit him. Hurt him.

  ‘What… what are you going to do?’ he said. ‘What d’you want from me?’ His voice small and pathetic. Defeated. ‘What d’you want me to do?’

  ‘Hand over all your research about deviant personalities for that book you’ve been working on,’ said a male voice.

  78

  M

  arina drove. She had her iPhone set for hands-free, and called Anni. It went to voicemail.

  ‘Hi, Anni, listen, it’s me. I know you’re on your way but I just wanted to get the ball rolling. I didn’t want to sit around waiting and do nothing, it would have driven me mad. So I decided to pay a call on Maddy Mingella, another of Hugo Gwilym’s… I don’t know, victims? I could be polite and say girlfriends or conquests, but, you know. Anyway. Long story short, she wanted to help but her boyfriend didn’t. Said they had something already in place. I didn’t like him, Anni. Got a very bad vibe from him. So I stuck around afterwards. Just in case.’ She laughed. ‘You taught me well. Always follow a hunch. So I’m following them. And he’s driving a very unstudenty car, which makes me even more suspicious of him. No one I was at college with drove a Lexus four-by-four. I’m rambling again and I’m sure this is going to cut me off, so, to the point. Judging from the route they’re taking, they’re on their way to Gwilym’s place. I’m going after them. We can’t let them mess things up, or tip him off. So. I know you’re on the way. I’ll meet you at his. I’ll text you the postcode when I’m there and you can stick it in your sat nav. See you soon…’

  She hung up. Kept driving.

  79

  G

  wilym turned. The voice had come from the doorway to the living room. Ben was standing there, leaning against the door frame. He smiled. Maddy thought she should have been glad to see him, but she didn’t feel that way. She thought this would have gone better if he hadn’t been there. Or even if Marina had been here.