by Robert Innes
“N..No…” he rasped.
“Which means that someone attacked you?”
He weakly nodded.
“I know you’re finding it hard to say anything,” Nicola whispered. “Don’t overdo it. But when you can, you need to try and remember anything you can about that night. I know it’s probably the last thing you want to think about, but you’re not the first person this has happened to since the Rebecca Winters trial. You’re not even the second. Someone is after us, Gary. I don’t know who it is yet, but you’re the only person who’s survived this. The only one who might be able to tell us anything.”
Gary let out a quiet murmur as his eyes began to close again. Nicola smiled at him and stroked his hair. “It’s okay. You’re tired. Get some rest. The nurse said your family is on their way. You want to be able to see them, don’t you? I’ll come back and see you.”
Before she had even finished speaking, Gary’s eyes had closed as he fell back to sleep again. Nicola kissed him on the top of the head and stood up. As she did so, she spotted a dark mark on the back of his neck. She frowned as she examined it closer. It didn’t seem to be part of the bruising from the rope. It was a different colour and seemed to be of a similar consistency to black paint, as she gently scratched it with her fingernail and it came off in flakes. A horrible thought went through her mind, but she pushed it aside.
Leaving him to sleep, she quietly made her way out of the room, though she suspected she could have driven a car through it, and it still would not have disturbed Gary from his slumber.
She left the hospital and walked across the carpark to her car. The sun was starting to set and as she sat in her car, she watched it between the trees as the sky got darker around her, her mind racing. Even though she was relieved Gary was awake, seeing him lying there having difficulty speaking had brought home what she had found herself involved in. She was still unsure what to do with the letter. She doubted it would be of much use to the police. Even though Sylvia and probably Rebecca had lied about who Rebecca had discovered Simon was having the affair with on the day he died, it went no further in proving that Rebecca was not his killer.
Her phone ringing broke into her thoughts.
“It’s me,” Kath said when Nicola answered. “Look, are you busy?”
“Sort of,” Nicola replied, glancing at the hospital through her rear-view mirror. “Why, what’s up?”
“We’re absolutely rammed,” Kath told her. Nicola could hear the hubbub of customers now, a noise that was only audible over the phone when the restaurant was especially busy. “Do you think you could come in? Even for a few hours? Just till it dies down?”
Nicola sighed. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but Kath had an ability to stop her from saying no. “I’ll go home and shower. I’ll be about an hour.”
“You’re a babe,” Kath replied, sounding relieved. “See you soon.”
By the time Nicola returned to the flat, darkness had set over Eventide Bay. The air was cold, and the streets were empty, the residents of the town, Nicola imagined, probably sat in the restaurant waiting for her to serve them. She locked the car and walked towards the flats, mentally going through her wardrobe to think about what she had that was clean and suitable for work. As she reached the door to the flats, there was the sound of a dustbin clattering behind her. Nicola jumped and looked around. The car park was silent and still, the only sound being a dog barking in the distance.
“You’re getting paranoid,” Nicola scolded herself as she typed the number into the keypad. The door clicked open and she hurried inside.
Once in her flat, she dumped her keys on the side and stripped, before turning on the radio, followed by the shower. Her muscles instantly relaxed as she stepped inside and the hot water hit her skin. Her favourite song began on the radio and she sang along to it as she massaged some hair conditioner into her scalp. But just as she began to belt out the chorus, there was a loud bang. Nicola stopped singing and listened, turning off the shower. It had sounded like it came from just outside her flat. She stepped out the shower, frowning. All she could hear now was the radio, the song coming to an end and an advert for a window glazing company starting to play between songs. She switched off the radio and continued to listen, but after a minute or so of not hearing anything else out of the ordinary, she shrugged and turned to switch the radio back on again.
Suddenly, she was pushed from behind and against the wall. She cried out in surprise and horror as she quickly realised that there was someone in the bathroom with her. The next thing she knew, her attacker had taken advantage of her surprise and had thrown a large, chunky rope around her neck. Terror surged through Nicola as she struggled against the intruder, but the rope was only pulled tighter. For a few moments, they struggled in the small bathroom. The rope got tighter around Nicola’s neck as she tried to pull away, tears forming in her eyes as she began to gasp against the strain on her throat. In desperation, Nicola grabbed the radio from the windowsill and pulled it sharply towards her, throwing her hand backwards so that the corner of it landed with a loud crack on the side of her attacker’s head. Mercifully, the pull on the rope lessened slightly. Again, Nicola whacked the radio against the intruder’s head and this time she was able to pull herself free from their grip and turned, grabbing onto the side of the head and desperately pushing it into the bathroom cabinet mirror. She cried out in effort as she smashed the attacker’s head against the mirror, shattering it in the process. After the third sickening thud against the cabinet, their body went limp and she threw them away from her so that the attacker landed in the bath, the shower curtain coming away from the rail and covering the assailant, who did not move.
For a moment, her neck raw from the roughness of the rope, Nicola panted as she caught her breath, watching the figure for any sign of movement, picking up the radio again in case they suddenly lunged at her again, but it seemed that she had managed to knock them out. Clutching the radio tightly, her heart racing, she slowly slid the curtain off the body and recoiled in shock. But what she was not so shocked about was who her attacker had been. Lying in the bath, eyes closed, a trickle of blood running from a large gash from the side of the head, was Estelle Winters.
14
Estelle began to moan and her eyes flickered. With her heart still hammering, Nicola grabbed the rope that had been around her throat no less than a minute ago and wrapped it tightly around Estelle’s body, until she was incapable of moving. With her captive still lying width ways across the bath, Nicola called the police, without taking her eyes off Estelle for a moment, until she looked at her own hands. They were black from where she had been struggling with her, and as she looked at Estelle again, she realised that the same black mark on Gary’s neck had come from the hairspray that Estelle had clearly applied to herself to make her hair as black as the rest of her attire.
When she had hung up, Estelle opened her eyes and looked around her, groggily. Despite the fact that she had tied her up so tightly that Estelle could barely move anything but her head, Nicola stepped back and put her back against the wall.
“The police are on their way,” Nicola told her, hoping she did not sound as afraid as she felt.
Estelle merely nodded.
There was silence. Nicola glanced at the wound on Estelle’s head, and despite the fact that she had almost been killed a few minutes before, reached for some toilet roll and cautiously stepped forwards. “Here,” she said as she bent down to dab it on her head.
Again, Estelle said nothing. For a few moments, Nicola wiped the majority of the blood of Estelle’s face, then stepped back again, sitting on the toilet, by now satisfied that she was incapable of attacking her again.
“So, it was you,” Nicola murmured. “The one who’s been going after the members of the jury?”
Estelle did not reply.
“You’ve killed three people,” Nicola said. “Nearly five. Gary, the policeman, he’s still in hospital. He survived.”
E
stelle rested her head on the wall behind her. “Good. He put up the biggest fight. Well, apart from you.”
Nicola shrugged. “Still though, when you’re as determined to murder someone as you clearly were, maybe that’s not enough. I guess Dennis Tate, Dorothy Fountain or Geraldine McGuire didn’t have a radio handy. I didn’t think it was you. Not at first. If I had to choose someone in your family, it would have been Ross. His muscles, I don’t think anyone would have been able to fight back. You’re obviously stronger than you look.”
“He’s my younger brother,” Estelle said quietly. “All his gym equipment is stuff I used to own at some point. He’s just more visually impressive.”
Nicola nodded. Again, there was silence for a few moments. “Why, Estelle? Why did you do this?”
“Because my mum should not be in that prison,” Estelle replied angrily. “I saw you all at the trial. About ten minutes you took to make that decision. Ten minutes! It took me longer than that to kill that horrible prosecution barrister, who belittled me, and Mum. Yet it took barely any time for you lot to decide that my mum should just rot in a prison cell for the rest of her life and then you can all go back to your comfy little lives, not having to think about the effect it’s had on any of my family. You destroyed our lives!”
Nicola shook her head. “You’re wrong, Estelle. I didn’t think your mum did it. I never have. But my argument wasn’t enough. Why do you think I’ve been trying to find out what really happened?”
Estelle let out a harsh, humourless laugh. “Nothing to do with that blog of yours, then? Yeah, I found it. I typed your name into Google when you left our house that first day. Nothing about you being a private investigator, funnily enough, but there was a site dedicated to you and your grubby little blog. You just wanted to get famous through my mum’s case. It didn’t matter to you whether she’d done it or not. You’re no better than any of the papers or newsreaders who earn their money from other people’s pain. It couldn’t have been more obvious you didn’t know what you were doing.”
Her words hit Nicola hard. The worst thing was that when put to her like that, Nicola did not feel like she could defend herself. “I did want to help,” she said at last. “Bernice Stockport didn’t kill your dad though. She wasn’t anywhere near your house at the time of the murder.”
Estelle shook her head. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“What I don’t understand is how you did it,” Nicola continued. “You would have had to find all of your victim’s addresses.”
“Because I did something you were apparently incapable of,” Estelle snapped. “That little thing called research. I’ve got a photo of you all. I know you saw me with my phone in the courtroom.”
“I thought you were recording the result,” Nicola murmured.
“Yeah, well I wasn’t. I was taking a picture of you all. Every single one of you. From there, it took some digging around on social media, and the rest was easy. I knew what I was doing. You’re lucky. I had you in my sights first. I followed you all the way to Eventide, and then I saw you on your cosy little date with that policeman. I knew I couldn’t get you that night, so I went after that horrible old witch Dorothy instead. She was frail, it was easy. The only thing was that her death got your boyfriend suspicious. He came ‘round our house just after you and started asking awkward questions. I got the impression he hadn’t started any official investigations at that point, so I figured he’d have to go sooner rather than later. I was running out of his house when I saw you arrive.”
“Pretty careless of you to leave black hair spray on him though,” Nicola remarked. “Your time was probably up after that. Even if he hadn’t woken up, they would have been able to trace it to you.”
The sound of sirens filled the air from outside the flat. Soon, Nicola’s flat was filled with police officers, and Estelle was untied.
“We’ll need you to come to the station and make a statement,” the officer said to her. Nicola recognised him as the same one who had interviewed her when she had discovered Gary after his attack.
“Sure,” Nicola said as Estelle was taken away. “If you don’t mind if I make a quick phone call on the way. I think I need to ring work and tell them I’m not going to be in tonight.”
***
Estelle confessed to all five of the attacks in her police interview, which was fortunate as Nicola suspected she would have been there all night answering questions otherwise. She had been seen by a medic in case she had sustained any injuries, but it seemed that Estelle had fared worse, though it was nothing a few stiches would not cure. It was getting close to eleven pm when Nicola was allowed to go home, Estelle having been charged. She walked into the reception and was surprised to see Kath, Alex, and Dominic waiting for her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, glad to see her friends after the events of the evening.
“We would have been here sooner,” Kath replied, hugging her. “But it was that busy, we couldn’t get out any earlier. Are you okay?”
Nicola nodded. “I am now.” She looked up at Alex. “Seems we’ve got our man. Or woman.”
“One of them, yeah,” Alex replied. “At least that part of it is over.”
“What do you mean?” Dominic asked as he dramatically pulled Nicola into a tight hug. “The other woman, Rebecca, she’s safely behind bars, isn’t she?”
“She is,” Alex said. “But…”
Before he could continue, the doors to the station flung open and Sylvia Moorcroft walked in. She looked absolutely furious as she strolled up to the reception desk and hit her fist on the bell. “Hello?” she shouted. “I demand to speak to someone! I want to see my granddaughter!”
She had not even noticed Nicola and Alex until she turned around in her search for an officer and saw them. If anything, her expression turned even darker. “You,” she fumed. “This is your fault! My granddaughter doesn’t belong here!”
“Oh, I think she does, Miss Trunchbull,” Dominic quipped as he took in Sylvia’s attire and pinned back bun on her head. “She tried to kill my friend here. She won’t be getting away with that.”
“You’re making it up,” Sylvia growled, pointing a finger in Nicola’s face. “Admit it! You’re making this up to make up for the fact that you have no idea how to get my daughter out of prison!”
“Oh, your daughter will get out of prison,” Alex replied. “Once the real killer of Simon Winters is arrested and sent down in her place. And the motions for that can start as soon as these officers put their handcuffs on you.”
Nicola stared at him in surprise.
“I beg your pardon?” Sylvia exclaimed, her eyes wide.
“It was you, wasn’t it, Sylvia?” Alex continued. “It’s okay, you can be honest now. We know it was you that Simon was having the affair with.”
Behind Nicola, Kath and Dominic gasped.
“I don’t know what you think you –”
“We found the letter, Sylvia,” Nicola told her. “God knows you can’t help who you fall in love with. But I mean there’s keeping it in the family, then there’s you and Simon. An affair with your mother in law. You own daughter’s husband. Frankly, if Rebecca had killed him, there’d have been a few more people on her side if they’d known the truth.”
Behind them, the two officers that had been interviewing Nicola stepped out into the reception area. Suddenly, Sylvia seemed a lot less keen to see them. “Alright,” she said quietly. “So, we were having an affair. We had been for months. It certainly doesn’t explain why you think you can throw such slanderous accusations at me.”
“And of course,” Alex continued. “Rebecca said in court that it was Bernice that she had caught your husband having the affair with. So why would she lie about you? Unless of course, she was lying. And she was, wasn’t she? Because one thing you taught her, above anything else, was that the kids are all that matter. She didn’t want Estelle and Ross finding out about her husband’s grimy affair with you, anymore than she was pre
pared to admit it to a whole court. So, it was easier to just pin it on someone he’d had another little dalliance with. Certainly wasn’t keen on the idea of monogamy, was he? But, not only had he fallen in love with you, contrary to all expectations, you’d fallen for him.”
Nicola was amazed by how much sense he was making. She glanced across at Sylvia and knew by the expression on her face that everything Alex was saying was absolutely right.
“You were just that little bit too passionate about the notion of love, as far as Simon was concerned,” Alex told her. “Remember when we first came to see you? You were very keen to point us in the direction of Bernice. After everything that had been said in court, if it was possible for anyone else to have killed him, it would have been her. Unfortunately for you, Bernice was nowhere near the house on the day of his death. But you were, weren’t you?”
Sylvia remained silent. Alex pressed on, speaking directly to her and ignoring his captive audience behind him. “We thought it was possible that he had just let someone in to the house when Rebecca had left to get that wine, an ex-lover, an irate business associate, but of course you were the one who pushed in that direction. You didn’t want us to land on the possibility that there was more than just Rebecca and Simon in the house that day. But where could you have been? Did Rebecca know you where there, listening to everything they were arguing about? Or were you there in secret? And the only other person who knew you were there was Simon?”
Again, Sylvia said nothing. She seemed far too aware of the mounting police presence around her and was watching them, with a nervous expression.
“When we went to see Rebecca in prison,” Alex went on. “She told us about what a good mother you’d been. Protecting her when she was frightened, making sure she’d never have to ask for anything, she even told us about when she’d have nightmares about monsters under the bed, and you’d comfort her till she fell asleep, telling her that monsters under the bed didn’t exist. Thing is though, Sylvia, they do, don’t they? Because there was one there that day.”
