by Amy Cross
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Where is she?” Ophelia shouted, pushing past the officers at the door and rushing into the warehouse, where several other officers were examining a patch of blood on the ground.
“Stop her!” a voice shouted, and two officers quickly closed her down, grabbing her by the arms so she couldn't get too close.
“I'll handle this,” Tricia muttered, hurrying away from Maitland and making her way to Ophelia. “Let her go,” she told the officers. “I know this girl.”
“Is she supposed to be here?” one of the officers asked.
“No, but that never usually stops her.”
As the officers let go of her arms, Ophelia took a step forward, before stopping when she saw the blood.
“Who...” She paused, as if she didn't want to ask the question.
“It's Laura's,” Tricia replied. “And Daniel Gregory's, too. A little of his, a lot of hers. When she stopped responding to messages a couple of hours ago, we ran a trace of her car and found it here, but it looks like we got here too late.”
“What the hell was she doing?” Ophelia asked, looking around the darkened space. “Has she lost her mind?”
“She was trying to prove something,” Tricia continued, “and now we don't know where she is.”
“He took her?”
“We can't find either of them. There's more blood over by one of the rear doors, so we're running on the assumption that he made her leave with him.”
“Then she's not dead,” Ophelia continued, trying not to panic. “If she was dead, he'd have just left her here for us to find. That's the whole point, it's what he does.”
“She's lost a lot of blood, though,” Maitland added, getting to his feet. “More than enough for it to be affecting her state of mind. She's quite possibly unconscious by now, and she could bleed to death without proper medical attention, which I very much doubt she's receiving. We don't have much time.”
“Her phone,” Ophelia replied, turning to Tricia. “You have to track her -”
“You mean this one?” Tricia asked, holding up Laura's phone, the screen of which was now cracked. “We don't have an active number for Daniel Gregory, either. I'm sure he has a phone, but if he does, it's unregistered and we have no way to link it with him.”
“What about his car?” Ophelia asked. “Do you have the registration number?”
Tricia shook her head. “Most likely he's stolen a vehicle for the night.”
“Then what do you have?”
“Right now, we have six dead women and one dead man, all murdered tonight by Daniel Gregory in separate incidents. Assuming there are already a few more waiting to be found, he's getting close to hitting that target of sixteen he needs if he's going to break Howard Mehlman's record.”
“So you can't track him at all?” Ophelia asked. “Are you seriously tell me you have no way of working out where the hell he is?”
“We...” Tricia paused. “We're still trying to come up with something. We've got his face on every TV screen in the city, hopefully someone'll see something and report it to us. He can't keep out of sight forever.”
“I'm going to find her,” Ophelia replied, glancing down at the pool of blood for a moment before turning and heading back to the door.
“How?” Tricia shouted.
“I don't know,” she muttered, pushing her way back outside and heading to Joe Lewis's car. Stopping before she got inside, she pulled her phone from her pocket and saw that she still had signal. “Maybe by pulling the same stunt Laura pulled,” she continued, “and hoping that he comes to me.”
***
Several hours later, with the sun starting to climb into a gray morning sky, Ophelia sat on the hood of Joe Lewis's car, watching the river as several tugboats made their way past. She'd been waiting for hours, down in a desolate part of the city where she hoped she might be able to tempt Daniel Gregory out into the open, but there was no sign of him.
Hearing her phone starting to ring, she answered.
“It's me,” Tricia said on the other end of the line. “We just...”
Ophelia waited, her heart racing as she braced herself for the worst possible news.
“We just found what we believe to have been Daniel Gregory's seventeenth victim of the night. Even if we don't find any more, he's broken his record. He's got -”
“Is it her?” Ophelia asked.
“What -”
“Is it Laura?”
There was a pause on the other end. “No,” Tricia said finally, “but Doctor Maitland says the amount of blood she must have lost during the night -”
“She's still alive,” Ophelia said firmly.
“If she didn't receive medical attention -”
“She's still alive,” she said again. “He'll want her to be his final victim, and he won't reach that point until he thinks the police have got him cornered.”
“Even if -”
“Shut up!” Ophelia hissed. “Just don't say it!”
“We've got his face on every screen in the country,” Tricia continued. “Everyone knows who he is, and that we're looking for him. Cars are being checked at key points leaving the city -”
“He's too smart for that.”
“We're monitoring email, social media -”
“None of which will get you anywhere. This guy is going to be operating off the grid by now. None of your fancy surveillance bullshit is going to help, not when it's just one man who keeps all his dark ideas in his head!”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I suggest...” Pausing again, Ophelia tried to come up with something, but her mind was blank. “I can't do this without her,” she said finally, as if the realization came as a huge shock. “If she was here, I'd bounce ideas off her and come up with some crazy idea that might just work, but right now, in this exact moment without her... There's nothing.”
“Are you talking to me,” Tricia asked after a few seconds, “or...”
“Thinking out loud.”
“I have to get back to the incident room,” Tricia continued. “I'll let you know if... I mean, I'll be in touch when I have some information. All we can do is pray.”
Once the call was over, Ophelia watched the tugboats for a little while longer, but her mind remained stubbornly blank, as if sheer panic was freezing her thoughts before they could perform their usual dance and become useful. She knew Daniel Gregory would have some kind of endgame planned, and that he clearly hadn't got to that point yet, which gave her hope. At the same time, she felt as if her mind, which usually overflowed with ideas, had ground to a halt. Finally, just as another tugboat came into view, she realized her phone was ringing again.
“What?” she asked as soon as she answered.
“Is that... Ophelia?” a timid voice asked.
“Who are you?”
“I'm -”
“Tell her we're sharing the car!” another voice hissed on the other end of the line.
“Keep out!” the first voice replied.
“What have you seen?” Ophelia asked, as her heart started racing faster than ever. “Do you know where he is?”
“How do we know you'll deliver the car after we tell you?”
“Have you seen him?” she asked. “Just tell me!”
“Josephine said -”
“I'll give you the goddamn car!” she shouted. “What have you seen?”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and she could just about hear the two people arguing with one another, and Josephine's voice in the background.
“That guy you wanted people to look out for,” the first voice said finally. “I think I saw him -”
“We saw him!” the second voice interjected.
“We saw him,” the first voice continued with a sigh, “about two hours ago, down at the old fishing huts by the eastern docks. You know the ones with the big crane next to them?”
“Are you sure it was him?” she asked, opening the car door
and climbing into the driver's seat. “I mean, are you really sure?”
“Pretty much,” the first voice said. “So where do we pick up the -”
Before she could finish, a scuffle could be heard.
“It's me,” Josephine said finally. “We found that man for you, now where's the car?”
“Meet me under the bridge at Vauxhall gardens,” she replied as she started the engine. “I'll bring it to her as soon as I've verified the information.”
“But -”
“I don't have time to argue! I have to get this thing launched!”
“Ophelia, if you don't -”
Cutting the call, she slammed her foot on the pedal. The car lurched forward, its wheels spinning for a moment before she swung the vehicle around and headed toward the eastern docks.
***
As soon as she saw a dark blue car parked around the back of one of the fishing sheds, she knew she'd found them. It was the same car she'd briefly spotted racing away from Laura's house as the fire took hold, and now it was parked discretely, as if someone didn't want it to be seen.
“Please God,” she whispered, with a knife in her hand as she cautiously approached the side of the building. “I'll give you anything you want, I'll quit being an idiot and I'll take up nunnery or knitting, but let Laura be okay.”
Stopping at the corner, she listened for a moment, but all she heard was the sound of planes in the distance and, a moment later, the horn of a passing tugboat. She glanced over her shoulder, keen to make sure that there was no-one sneaking up behind her, before making her way quietly but quickly along the side of the building. Stopping when she reached a rusty, halfway-open door, she waited again, but there was still no sign of anyone in the area.
Cautiously, she peered through the door, and then she stepped into the dusty, gutted old reception area, which had once been a bustling office but which was now just an abandoned room.
In the distance, a police siren briefly seemed to be coming closer, before racing away again. The city was on high alert, but people were looking in all the wrong places, convinced that their target would eventually trip one of their digital trip-wires.
“Idiots,” she mouthed, although she made certain not to actually make a sound. She'd sent a message to Tricia's phone, letting her know where she was, but she doubted the police would arrive in time. Everything they did seemed to happen at a glacial pace.
Heading across the room, she paused as he reached the next doorway. She listened, and finally she realized that this time she could hear a noise. Someone was talking in the distance, with a low, steady voice. She leaned through, but there was no sign of anyone. Taking a step forward, she was able to make out a few words.
“But now that I'm out of those,” Daniel Gregory was saying calmly, “I can't get the boost anymore. You understand, don't you? Of all people, you should know what it's like. Sometimes you just need an artificial boost, to give you a little extra energy. It can be so tiring, being brilliant.”
Taking a deep breath, Ophelia looked down at the knife in her hand. It wasn't much, but it was all she'd been able to find at short notice.
Stepping forward, she finally spotted a figure in the distance, sitting on a chair at the far end of the old warehouse, facing toward the wall. His shoulders were slumped, as if he was exhausted. On the floor in front of him, there was a crumpled shape.
“No,” Ophelia whispered, forcing herself not to rush forward.
She knew she had to be careful.
“So now I'm tired,” Gregory continued, looking down at the shape on the floor. “So very tired, and I feel as if... Twenty-nine murders in one night isn't bad. The police will still be discovering new bodies for most of the day. Do you think anyone is going to beat my record? Ever?” He nudged the shape with his foot. “I don't. I've almost doubled the previous record. You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment, for the release, to have so much happen in one night. Now the afterglow is... mesmerizing.” He paused. “I did it. Everything I've been dreaming of and more. Do you know how it feels to achieve your full potential?”
Edging closer, Ophelia realized her best approach would be to just drive the knife into the back of his head.
“I think it'll be good to live through the trial,” he added. “To enjoy the media rush. My God, people are going to know my name. Once you stop worrying about getting caught, murder is surprisingly easy and so very enjoyable.”
As she got to within a couple of meters of him, Ophelia saw that there was a large patch of blood around the shape on the floor.
“I wouldn't come any closer,” Daniel Gregory said suddenly, “if I were you.”
She stopped.
“You can't see it,” he added, “but I have a gun pointed at your friend's head. She's so close to death as it is, and my finger is on the trigger. She's going to be number thirty for this little spree and then -”
“Leave her alone,” Ophelia said firmly, with tears in her eyes.
“Or what?”
“Take me instead.”
Slowly, he turned and smiled at her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Let her live,” Ophelia continued, “and... I'll be your thirtieth victim. Let me take her place.”
He frowned. “Are you absolutely serious?”
“Let me talk to her.”
“She's barely capable of anything anymore,” he replied. “I've been talking to her for a while now, and I'm not even sure she's heard a word of it. You can make your way around and take a look, but don't come too close. I don't need an excuse to pull the trigger, although personally I'd rather not. Guns are a coward's weapon, at least in a situation like this.”
Stepping to one side, she made her way around until she could see Laura clearly. A cold shiver passed through her body as she realized the extent of the injuries Daniel Gregory had inflicted, and the sheer amount of blood that had been spilled. All over Laura's coat, there were glistening crimson patches where a knife had sliced through, and one of her hands was reaching out across the dirty concrete, as if it had frozen just as she was trying to reach for help.
“She got me,” he said after a moment, indicating the bloodied patch on his shoulder. “I didn't think she'd try, but she did. Another inch in the right direction and she'd have dropped me, but I was lucky. Really, she barely grazed me, although even that was quite impressive given that I moved so fast.”
“Is she -”
“She's alive, for now,” he replied. “Or at least she was, a few minutes ago. I check every now and then, and I'm sure she doesn't have much longer to go. The blood loss has slowed. If I want to hurry her up, I could always speed it up again.”
“You don't need to kill her,” Ophelia told him. “You've already broken the record. You've shattered it.”
“But killing someone from the police would be a fine way to bow out, wouldn't it?” he asked. “Especially the woman who bungled the original case against me. I never expected to make it all the way through the night, but now here I am, and the incompetence of the police has gifted me an unexpected opportunity to make one final stand. Frankly, I'm spoiled for choice. I just wish I wasn't so tired, but the last of my steroids is all dried up.” He looked down at Laura. “I read about her career, you know. She was a real high-flier, someone who was expected to be at the top by now. Now look at her. She crashed back down.” He nudged Laura's shoulder with his foot, although she didn't respond at all.
“Leave her alone,” Ophelia said, stepping toward him.
“I wouldn't do that,” he said firmly, leaning the gun closer to Laura's head. “You don't seriously think I'm bluffing, do you? I'm so exhausted, it's a miracle I don't just shoot you both and take a nap. Still, I'm enjoying all of this far too much.”
“If you kill her -”
“She'll be dead.”
“And then I'll -”
“You'll kill me. Fine. And then what?” His smile returned. “Will you weep? Well done for getting out of the farmhouse, by
the way. It wasn't part of my plan for you to escape, but I'd factored it in as a possibility. That's how it works with plans, you always have to be willing to adapt. I imagine Mr. Lewis is spilling his guts to the police as we speak.” He paused for a moment. “I've achieved everything I wanted and more. All that's left now is for me to manage the final act. I think it should be something appropriately grandiose, don't you? A real show-stopper.”
Getting down onto her hands and knees, Ophelia looked at Laura's face and saw that her eyes were closed.
“Let me speak to her,” she said, looking up at Gregory. “Please.”
“You'll just draw out her suffering.”
“Let me speak to her!”
“Fine. I'm not a monster. I'll let you say goodbye. It might be fun to watch.”
“It's me,” Ophelia said, reaching out and putting a hand on Laura's shoulder. “Hey, can you hear me?” She waited, but Laura remained ominously still. “Talk to me!” she hissed, nudging her shoulder gently. “I gave away my car in a prize draw to find you! I found you! Can you imagine how hard that was?”
Slowly, Laura's eyes flickered open, but it took a moment before she was able to focus.
“You're an idiot,” Ophelia continued, “do you know that? What the hell were you thinking, going into this by yourself? If you'd just let me in on what you were planning, we'd have had this idiot in cuffs by now. Or, even better, in a body bag. I don't know about you, but I've finally realized that, for whatever messed-up reason, you and I work better when we're together. Why'd you have to come and try doing this without me, huh?”
Laura's lips moved, but her faint whisper was too quiet to make out.
“What was that?” Ophelia asked, leaning closer.
“Did I...” Laura paused. “Did I get him? Did more people die?”
“You...” Taking a deep breath, Ophelia wiped a tear from her cheek. “Don't worry about that right now.”
“I didn't,” she continued. “You have to... save yourself...”
“I'm not going anywhere without you.”
“Don't let him... You have to... keep going...”
“No way,” Ophelia said firmly. “I'm not going anywhere without you. When one of us goes off and tries to do something alone, shit like this happens!”
