Class Murder

by Leigh Russell

  Eileen grunted. ‘We need to speak to the brother.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Geraldine said straight away.

  Her eagerness would probably be interpreted as an attempt to curry favour, but the truth was that she was curious to hear what Stephanie’s brother had to say.

  She called ahead to say she wanted to speak to Mr and Mrs Crawford and their son.

  ‘You’d best come over in the afternoon. He’s never up before midday.’

  ‘I’ll be round this evening.’

  ‘Come early, or he’ll be out drinking with his mates.’

  ‘Please ask him not to go out until I’ve spoken to him.’

  Mrs Crawford responded sourly that she had no control over her son. With the self-absorption of a twenty-year-old, it seemed he would happily ignore a request from a police officer investigating his sister’s murder if it interfered with his social life.

  ‘Please make sure he knows I want to speak to him,’ Geraldine insisted. ‘If he refuses to see me at home that’s going to raise serious questions, meaning my senior investigating officer is likely to arrange for him to come to the police station in York. Obstructing a murder enquiry isn’t very sensible.’

  ‘I’ll do my best to keep him here,’ Mrs Crawford agreed grudgingly.

  Instead of waiting until the evening, Geraldine decided to arrive at four. She had already spoken to Stephanie’s parents, who had in addition spoken to several other officers. No one had yet questioned the dead girl’s brother, Freddie. He was the person she was most interested in seeing. If he went out she would have to chase around looking for him, and it might be more difficult to get much sense out of him once he had started drinking.

  Mrs Crawford looked surprised to see her. ‘I thought you said you were going to be here this evening.’

  Geraldine nodded. ‘I decided to come earlier.’

  Without any further explanation she asked to see Freddie. Mrs Crawford showed her into the neat front room again and a few seconds later Geraldine heard her yelling up the stairs for her son to ‘get down here now!’

  There was a muffled buzz of someone calling back an answer. Mrs Crawford shouted again. After a few more exchanges, Geraldine heard footsteps clomping down the stairs and a young man burst into the room. Cut short above his ears, his straw-coloured hair had been left to grow longer on top of his head and hung down over his eyes in a style fashionable with some youngsters. He peered suspiciously at her through his fringe.

  ‘What?’ he demanded, a stereotype of a sullen teenager.

  ‘Please sit down.’

  ‘I’ll stand thank you. And can we make this snappy as I’m going out soon.’

  Geraldine was tempted to request that he accompany her to the police station in York for questioning. But he wasn’t a suspect, and for all his posturing he must have been deeply distressed by his sister’s murder. Besides which he was only twenty, and clearly frightened.

  ‘Please sit down,’ she repeated quietly. ‘I’m sorry for your loss. I’m here as part of the investigation into your sister’s death. We’re all very sorry about what happened.’

  The boy grunted. She wondered if she had got through to him.

  ‘I came here to ask if there’s anything you can tell us that might help us to find out who committed this terrible act?’

  There was a pause. The young man perched on the arm of a chair.

  ‘Was she raped?’ he blurted out. ‘They won’t tell me anything, and the media just spouts all sorts of shit. What happened?’

  Geraldine told him his sister would have died quickly. ‘She wouldn’t have known anything about it after the first stab wound.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you just saying that to make me feel better?’

  She shook her head and he paused, thinking. She waited.

  ‘So what do you want with me?’ he asked at last.

  ‘We know what happened to your sister, but we don’t know who did it. And we believe the killer might have claimed another victim.’

  ‘That guy Peter.’ Geraldine nodded. ‘I saw it on the news. I wondered if it was the same killer. Everyone’s saying it was. They’re saying there’s a serial killer in the area.’

  ‘Freddie, is there anything you can think of that might help us?’

  He dropped his eyes and shrugged, clamming up.

  ‘Anything at all. Can you think of anyone who was angry with your sister?’

  Without warning he jumped to his feet. ‘I didn’t know that guy Peter. We had a row, she was always bugging me. But it was nothing to do with me. I was here in Uppermill. You can ask anyone. And anyway I wasn’t angry with her, not any longer, not after she’d gone to live in York. You want to know the truth? I wish she’d never gone there. I’d rather have put up with her living here than what happened. She was stupid, all right, but she was my sister. I would never have done anything to hurt her.’

  ‘Freddie, no one’s accusing you of being involved in what happened to your sister.’

  ‘But you’re all thinking that if I hadn’t been here, she might never have gone to York.’

  ‘Nonsense. She was ready to move out, that’s all. It was nothing to do with you.’

  Freddie looked sceptical. ‘That’s what they think,’ he muttered angrily, sitting on the arm of the chair again.

  Geraldine pressed him but he said he couldn’t think of anyone who might have wanted to kill his sister.

  ‘It’s crazy to think anyone did it deliberately,’ he said. ‘She wasn’t that sort of person.’

  ‘What sort of person?’

  ‘The sort of person anyone would want to kill. She was way too boring. She was…’

  He covered his face with his hands, but not before Geraldine had seen tears glistening in his eyes. His air of bravado vanished, he slipped off the arm of the chair on to the seat without uncovering his face, and sobbed. After a few moments he sat up, rubbing his eyes with his fists, like a child.

  ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, embarrassed by his display of emotion. ‘But she was my sister.’ His voice rose in anguish. ‘I’m on my own now. There’s no one else…’

  His mother came into the room, and sat beside her son, rocking in her seat and wailing. Feeling helpless, Geraldine slipped away. There was nothing she could say that would alleviate their grief or soften the finality of their loss. But she would do everything in her power to track down the person who had caused their cruel suffering.

  21

  Ashley was surprised when one of her former school friends, Beth, phoned to invite her round to another old school friend’s flat the following evening. It seemed an inappropriate time to throw a party, not to mention very last minute, but Beth was insistent.

  ‘Sorry Beth, I’m just too tired to be sociable right now. I’ve not been feeling up to anything much since…’ she hesitated. ‘You heard what happened to Steph?’ Her voice wobbled as she said her dead flatmate’s name. ‘To be honest, partying is the last thing on my mind right now.’

  Beth muttered that she knew about it. ‘That’s why we have to meet. It’s not a party. We need to talk about what happened to Stephanie and Peter.’

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Listen, Ashley, you have to come. Everyone who still lives in the area and was in our class has to. It’s all organised. Leah’s in touch with Robin and he said he’ll give you a lift. He lives near York and he’s driving over here for the meeting.’

  Ashley’s head was spinning. ‘What are you talking about? What’s been organised?’

  ‘You know me and Leah are both still living here in Uppermill?’

  Ashley mumbled something.

  ‘And there’s you and Robin in York. There are bound to be a few more of our year group still living in the area, but if the killer is focusing his attacks on our class, we can’t just wait aro
und like sitting ducks. We need to get together and talk about what’s happened.’

  Ashley thought she understood, but she wasn’t keen on that kind of amateur group therapy.

  ‘Listen, Beth. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, really I do, but my GP has referred me for bereavement counselling if I need it, so I’ll leave it at that. I’m sorry, but I just don’t think us all getting together is going to help. You don’t know what it was like for me, finding her like that…’

  ‘This isn’t some kind of support group. I mean, in a way I suppose it is. But we need to talk about what we’re going to do. What if one of us is next?’

  Ashley felt a sudden rush of blood to her head. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Beth explained that she and Leah were concerned there might be a connection between the two recent deaths. If that was the case, it might have something to do with their time at school.

  ‘I know it sounds unlikely, put like that, but we’re worried someone might be targeting our class, picking us off one by one. I don’t want to sound melodramatic, especially not after what you’ve been through, but Leah thinks we might all be at risk. If there’s even the slightest chance she’s right, we need to talk about what we should do. The others agree with me. So we’re meeting to discuss the situation and decide what we’re going to do about it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Maybe between us we can think of a reason why someone seems to be targeting our old classmates. We have to put our heads together and try anyway.’

  ‘You don’t think it’s coincidence, both of them being in the same class as us?’

  ‘Well, it could be, but we thought we should get together to discuss what’s happened, just in case we can come up with something. So you’ll be there at Leah’s, won’t you?’

  Ashley hesitated. ‘Shouldn’t we leave all this to the police? What can we do?’

  ‘Of course it’s a matter for the police, but they don’t know anything about us, do they? If we can come up with a plausible reason why this is happening we’ll go straight to the police. We’re not suggesting we try and deal with a homicidal maniac ourselves! But the police have questioned me and Leah and asked us if we can think of anyone who might have had a grudge against Stephanie and Peter.’

  ‘Well? Can you? What did you say?’

  ‘Neither of us could come up with anything just like that. How about you?’

  ‘Same.’

  ‘But Leah thinks – that is we both think – if we all get together we might be able to think of something. It’s got to be worth a try anyway.’

  Ashley wasn’t keen, but Robin had offered to give her a lift so there was no good reason for her to refuse.

  ‘Great. I’ve given Robin your address and he’ll pick you up on his way. Can you be ready about seven?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘See you tomorrow then.’

  Ashley regretted having given in as soon as she hung up but there was no way out of it, short of pretending to be ill. If she did that it would be obvious she was just making an excuse. The following evening she showered and changed, and was ready by half past six in case Robin was early. She sat on her bed, nervously checking her reflection and wondering what everyone else would be wearing and then hating herself for caring what her former classmates would think of her. It was only a week since Stephanie had been horribly killed and here she was, fretting over her own appearance. It made her feel like a monster. Regretting having allowed herself to be bullied into accepting Beth’s invitation, she struggled to hold back her tears.

  As it turned out, she needn’t have worried because Robin never showed up. Too late she realised he must have gone to the wrong flat. She hadn’t mentioned to Beth that she was staying with a neighbour. If she had been watching through her front window in her bedroom, she would probably have seen his car draw up. ‘Freudian slip,’ she thought with miserable satisfaction. She hadn’t wanted to go anyway. Beth and Leah were right. The killer could be targeting her class. But if that was the case, there was no guarantee the killer wasn’t one of the people going to Beth’s flat that evening. The thought was terrifying. She wondered who else was going to be there, and what conclusion they would draw from her absence. She hoped they wouldn’t suspect her.

  22

  ‘Well, this is a complete waste of time,’ Leah burst out, following Beth into the kitchen.

  ‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Beth replied.

  ‘For a start, Ashley hasn’t showed up.’

  Beth squirmed and looked away. She knew very well Leah blamed her for what had happened.

  ‘Didn’t you even think to ask her for her address?’ Leah demanded, her plump face reddening with barely controlled anger.

  Beth made a feeble attempt to defend herself. ‘That is her address.’

  ‘Well she isn’t living there any more so no, it isn’t.’

  ‘But everyone else is here.’

  Leah grunted. ‘We need Ashley here. She was sharing a flat with Stephanie which means she’s the only one of us who knows more than the police are telling us. We need to hear what she has to say.’

  Beth tried to convince Leah that Ashley had been reluctant to join them and would probably have found a reason not to turn up anyway, but Leah was having none of it. Privately Beth thought that even if Ashley had been there, the evening would have been a disaster. Robin and Ned didn’t appear at all worried about their own safety, following the deaths of their two former classmates.

  The two girls were more or less in agreement that they ought to be concerned, although Leah was far more strident. ‘There are, that is, there were, seven of us living in the area,’ she said. ‘Two of them – of us – have been murdered. That’s more than thirty per cent of us. You can’t just ignore that.’

  ‘Twenty-eight per cent,’ Robin corrected her. ‘Two out of seven is actually twenty-eight point five per cent.’

  He was equally dismissive of the idea that the rest of them might be in danger.

  ‘But what are the chances that two people from the same class would both be killed in the same week?’ Leah insisted.

  With Robin and Ned both convinced the closeness of the two deaths was a coincidence, Leah’s suggestion they all put their heads together and try to think of any reason someone might be targeting their class fell flat. Beth and Leah threw a few ideas around, while Robin and Ned drank beer and swapped jokes as though this was any ordinary social gathering.

  ‘I don’t know about you,’ Leah said, ‘but I’m scared to go to work next week.’

  Beth thought about what to say. Admittedly Leah had a tendency to overdramatise things, but Beth had already annoyed her by failing to find out where Ashley was staying. She didn’t want to provoke Leah further by openly disagreeing with her.

  ‘I think we should be OK during the day, but I’m not going to go out alone after dark,’ she fibbed, backing Leah up. ‘Not until they catch the killer.’

  ‘We don’t know if anyone else from our class has been killed. We only know about the two who still lived around here,’ Leah pointed out. ‘I think it’s time we insisted on police protection.’

  ‘It couldn’t do any harm,’ Beth agreed.

  Robin continued to scoff at their fears. ‘For goodness sake, don’t be so naive. Don’t you think the police have enough real crimes to deal with? They’re not going to take any notice of any of us.’

  Ned nodded. ‘You can’t report a crime that hasn’t been committed and expect the police to do anything.’

  ‘So you think we should just wait until someone else – one of us – gets killed before we go to the police for help?’

  ‘Have any of us received any death threats? I know I haven’t. Have any of you?’ Robin asked.

  They all shook their heads.

  ‘Exactly. So where’s your evidence that you’re in
any danger, any more than everyone else with a killer running around the area?’

  ‘That’s hardly the point,’ Leah said.

  ‘That’s exactly the point,’ Robin told her firmly.

  ‘Two people have been killed, both from our class at school,’ Leah insisted, her voice rising in frustration. ‘How much more of a threat do you want before you start taking this seriously?’

  Robin put his glass down. ‘Listen, Leah, there’s nothing to suggest those murders were related in any way, and no reason to suppose they were connected to any of us. I honestly think you’re getting in a tizz over nothing and winding yourself up needlessly.’

  Robin and Ned left soon after. With a sigh, Leah opened another can of beer. ‘So it’s down to us to find out what’s going on,’ she said.

  ‘There’s not a lot we can do.’

  ‘We need to be thinking about how to protect ourselves,’ Leah continued, ignoring Beth’s interruption. ‘And we need to find out who’s doing this, and why, so the police can track him down and lock him up.’

  Beth said nothing. She was beginning to think that Leah was getting unnecessarily worked up all over again. Of course it was deeply shocking that Stephanie and Peter had been killed, and it was natural that Leah would be in a state about it. They were all upset. Looking back on the evening, it seemed to Beth that everyone had been venting their emotions in different ways. But she agreed with Robin that Leah was exaggerating the danger to the rest of them, and becoming hysterical in the process.

  ‘Robin’s right, none of us has actually been threatened,’ she ventured.

  Leah rounded on her. ‘So you’re siding with them now, are you? Do you think whoever’s doing this warned Stephanie or Peter about what was going to happen to them? We’re not talking about someone who goes around making threats. We’re talking about someone who actually goes out and kills people. I can’t believe you’re taking this so calmly. We have to do something to stop this killer before he gets us, too.’ She paused. ‘I’ve been making enquiries.’

  ‘What do you mean? What sort of enquiries?’