by Lee Cockburn
Stressed and worn out, Taylor left the office at 2 am and headed straight to a club that she knew would still be open. She ordered a double Bacardi and coke at the bar. She gulped it down and asked for another; this time she held it in her hand and watched the other patrons coming and going, laughing and frolicking with each other, not a care in their cosy little worlds. Taylor’s heart was heavy with failure and the events of the night; her mind raced as she thought how close he had got to Susan and the people he had injured in the process.
He could have killed them so easily and chose not to. Why? Is it because he chose who he wanted to kill and derives great pleasure from doing so, even the choice? He didn’t need to kill them tonight, so he didn’t, and he is controlling what happens, almost like playing games with life itself. Such arrogance.
Taylor jumped as a slim blonde woman came up behind her and tapped her shoulder. “Penny for your thoughts,” she said softly in her ear.
“You don’t want to know - just a totally shit day should cover everything.”
The woman pulled up a tall stool beside Taylor and dragged another over for Taylor to sit beside her. The bar was still quite busy being a Thursday night, the weekend starting early for some and a wee night out for others. The bar was Edinburgh’s premier gay night club, a far cry from the old dark rooms with bell entry systems, where people had to hide away from others to be themselves, to be gay. The bar had tasteful décor with modern furniture, booths for privacy and a spacious dance floor with clientèle from all walks of life socialising together, a real good natured atmosphere.
“I’m Sarah.” The blonde held out her hand inviting Taylor to take it.
Taylor looked at her and met her hand with hers. She gave the stranger the once over and managed a slight smile. It had not been her intention to meet anyone. All she wanted to do was unwind and have a drink and think more about the case but, in reality, thinking about it was torturing her. This situation was one Taylor used to thrive on, picking up a random woman and having a one night stand. She loved flirting and loved the chase. Being attractive had always made Taylor a prime target when she was out as people with her striking features and physical frame were few and far between on the gay scene.
Sarah ordered herself a gin and tonic and asked the barman to give Taylor another of what she was drinking. He looked at her and told her it was a double, checking whether she still wanted to pay for a double. She nodded her head casually, not bothered about the double measure. The barman, slim, well built, with a wiry physique and designer clothes, brought over the drinks and smiled at the blonde, aware of what she was up to. He winked in a camp way at Sarah, gestured towards Taylor and mouthed the words, “She’s beautiful, and she’s a cop.”
Sarah sparked up the conversation with small talk and then asked more directly about Taylor’s job. Taylor looked at her and said, “I don’t want to talk about work.” Her stare was a little hostile and she hoped that it might end the topic.
Sarah moved closer seductively and said, “What do you want to talk about then? Or is talking not what’s on your mind?”
Sarah had pulled herself closer to Taylor and before she could react, Sarah’s mouth touched hers and her hand gently touched her thigh. The kiss was soft and inviting, not forceful, just warm and tempting, so tempting that Taylor responded. Taylor’s face was already flushed with the alcohol and now with the feverish needy kiss that they were sharing, a release that she desperately needed. She needed to forget work, forget everything, just for the here and now.
After several minutes of surreptitious sexual contact, Taylor stopped and pulled away. She looked at Sarah and said, “I can’t do this. It’s very, very nice, but I can’t.”
Taylor’s head spun with the alcohol and the kiss. What was she doing? What about Kay? The Taylor of old would have been half way home by now with the blonde in tow for a night of lustful sex, or maybe it would have even happened on the way home - Taylor didn’t usually mind.
Sarah leant forward and tried to kiss her again, her soft inviting lips glistening and a subtle show of her tongue. “Yes you can do this, that kiss was real and you wanted it then, and you could want it again.”
Taylor allowed her to kiss her again. She was struggling with her old self. She was at a low ebb, tipsy and stressed and this could be the pick me up she needed. Sarah stood and pushed herself between Taylor’s legs, putting her hands on Taylor’s thighs. They moved further up her legs. Taylor’s suit trousers were of a thin material and she could feel a tingle where Sarah’s hands had been and where she wanted them to go. They gently brushed over Taylor’s pussy with a tempting change of pressure. Taylor circled her arms round Sarah’s waist and pulled her close, her face now leaning against her breast. She could feel the taut nipple on her cheek, and she could feel the need growing between her legs as Sarah’s hand rubbed against her, skilfully teasing her. She moved her head round allowing her mouth to brush against the nipple, flames of lust burning deep inside her, urging her to take what was on offer.
“I can’t do this, I won’t do this. I’m so sorry, I have to go.” Taylor created a space between them to enable her to stand. She gathered her things and headed for the door. Sarah sighed, “Your loss,” and smiled as Taylor’s statuesque figure exited the club.
Taylor wrapped her arms round herself, her work suit giving little warmth in the chilly night air. What was all that about? Why did I just do that? Hmmmm, very nice though. Taylor looked at her phone to see if there were any messages.
“Shit,” Taylor sighed, Kay had sent a text and would wonder why it wasn’t answered. Fuck it! I’ll just avoid her tomorrow so I don’t have to answer any straight questions. Kay was not the sort of woman that would stand for any messing around. Taylor questioned herself again as to why she had allowed the woman to kiss her, to touch her, and why had she kept it going? Because she was human and needed comfort, any comfort. All sorts of thoughts were buzzing around in her head. Why worry now? Because I’ve never cared before. Nothing really happened anyway, she convinced herself. But it had, and Taylor had allowed herself to be tempted and she had nearly taken up the offer. What were her feelings for Kay? After all, she had stopped herself and gone home, hadn’t she? She did care.
“Got any change?” A beggar looked up from just below the cash machine, something the police didn’t take kindly to. It was a little unnerving to have someone so close when you took your money out at the bank. Taylor took a step back as she had been lost in her own thoughts and got a fright.
“Asshole! You gave me a fright.”
“Sorry lady. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just hungry an’ looking to get myself something to eat.” Taylor glared at him and told him he shouldn’t be sitting where he was.
He replied, “What’s it to you anyway? Are you the polis like?”
She didn’t confirm or deny what she was. She took out a pound coin and tossed it to him. “Buy food, not more bevy or I’ll come back and take it off you.”
“Cheers doll! Anything you say.”
Taylor got her money out, flagged down a cab and got in. She made a mental note of the cab number and then slumped back in the seat. The motion of the vehicle made her nauseous and she got out just before her house. The fresh air would do her good as she walked the remainder of the way, thoughts buzzing round her head. Her mind filled with a mixture of despair, sadness, lust and a little light headedness from lack of food and several quick drinks in succession.
¤¤¤
Kay switched off her bedside lamp. Her phone was on the bedside cabinet; she had not had a reply from Taylor. She worried a little and her heart was a little sore as she thought the worst. Why am I being like this? Taylor doesn’t owe me anything. We’re not committed, but she’s not going to make a fool out of me and I won’t be one of many, for anybody!
¤¤¤
Taylor got to her door, let herself in and went into the kitchen where she took a beer from the fridge; a cup of sweet tea would have been better f
or her. She wanted to erase the night, her old self and the case but she couldn’t do any of those. Three beers later, all in quick succession, her head suitably spinning and her mood more relaxed, she headed off to bed leaning on the walls as she went, lonely and subdued, but pleasantly pissed - just how she wanted to feel.
Taylor felt she had no sooner gone to sleep when the alarm went off. “No, no, no.” She sat up and a wave of nausea swept over her. “Why do I do it? Drink and work do not mix, not with me anyway.” Her hair was dishevelled and her make-up still on. She sighed and began getting ready. I’ll have to get a taxi into work. My mouth feels toxic. I have fumes for breath and would definitely be over the legal drink drive limit. What an asshole I am. Will I ever learn?
Marcus was already in the office, clean shaven and immaculate as always. As for Taylor, her suit was slightly askew and her hair not as neat as it normally would be.
“I need coffee,” she said. Marcus looked at her with mirth in his eyes.
“Heavy night, huh? Tell me you didn’t go out after the shift last night. Did you?”
“I did and I regret it and I don’t need a lecture from you either, just coffee and lots of it.”
“Findlay’s been out already. There have been over a thousand calls since last night. The Holmes team have been working flat out to create actions for the squad to pursue today.” The Holmes team was a special unit of officers, who took every call and piece of evidence and referenced it. They created an action for every lead and cross referenced everything to avoid missing any vital connections.
“Great, and there probably won’t be more than a handful of genuine ones with real leads to follow up.”
Taylor sat at her desk, her head pounding, her eyes heavy with lack of sleep. She stood up to go and make another coffee when Kay came into the office. She looked over at Taylor and Taylor’s face flushed as their eyes met, but it wasn’t with the usual lust, it was with guilt and remorse. Kay smiled at her although she could feel her stomach churn inside. Was she imagining what she had just seen or was Taylor acting a bit differently? It wasn’t the look she had hoped for.
“What’s with you today? It’s more than a hangover, isn’t it?” Marcus asked in a respectful way.
“I didn’t, you know. I started to and did enough to feel like a real shit house.”
“Are you fucking crazy? Kay will string you up - that’s if she ever speaks to you again!”
“I’m a fool with a needy ego. I like the thought that I can do as I like but I’ve never really had to suffer any consequence before.”
¤¤¤
Peter sat at his desk surveying the multitude of screens in front of him, hoping to spot trouble brewing before it came to anything. He jumped as John came into the room, which unnerved John as he wondered if it could be real fear. Don’t be stupid, he told himself. Act normally and avoid any suspicion.
John said, “Are you surprised to see me in here today then?” and laughed.
Peter replied, “Thought you were gonna be off sick for ages.”
“Got bored to tell you the truth. What’s been happening here, anything exciting since I’ve been away?”
“Not in here but the city is buzzing with the cat an’ mouse chase going on with that guy that’s been terrorising the city. Did you even watch the news last night John? Because they showed a photo fit on the late news and it was a bit freaky; it looks a bit like you. You would’ve shit yourself if you’d seen it.”
John froze inside. His guts tightened into a large knot and it took him every ounce of strength to hide the sick feeling he felt deep inside.
He smiled at Peter, “You’re kidding me right? Surely there can’t be another great looking guy like me about in the city.”
This confirmed it in Peter’s mind that John was just John. Nobody could be that cool about what he’d just said, if he had been the actual killer. Satisfied, Peter dropped that subject and started talking about football as usual. John had a coffee and was patient, biding his time before heading out of the room.
Sweat beads formed on his forehead as the reality of the situation hit home. Fuck, they’re closer than they think. The filth is in here all the time, it won’t take them long before they work out who’s who.
He went to the lift, his stride confident and not in the least bit shifty, and headed for the car park beneath the building. He had made the decision that he had to get some cash and leave his work, his house, and lie low for a while, or maybe forever. He stepped into the underground parking lot an expansive, desolate space with room for over 300 cars, where the sound of your footsteps echoed eerily when you were there on your own. His heart was pounding; he felt like a trapped animal. For the first time since he had started to kill, he experienced fear and terror of being caught. Nausea drifted over him and he felt physically sick. The feelings were short lived when he heard the clacking of heels heading his way. He looked up and saw a woman 20 metres away. She stopped and froze on the spot. The fear in her eyes was clearly visible and she began to shake. What’s wrong with her? he thought to himself. Who is she anyway? Only as she turned away and started walking quickly back towards her car did he remember that she was the female from the lift the other day, the one with the tidy little ass that quite clearly didn’t like him. If Peter was right and that photo fit was good, who knows what she is thinking? Does she suspect me? I can’t take the chance. He moved quickly towards her.
Terror engulfed her as she heard heavy footsteps behind her. Lucy Millar wished she hadn’t been so obvious in her change of direction; she should have just walked past him and not even given him a second thought, not even glanced up at him. Too late now, she thought, kicking off her shoes and running towards her car as fast as her legs would carry her. Big mistake! Her petite frame and lack of height gave John an instant advantage and he closed the ground between them quickly as he was tall and still quite able. Lucy fumbled frantically in her pocket for the key to her car. It seemed to take ages, her fingers grasping around, hysterically hunting for its familiar shape. Got it! Elation overtook her as she thought she stood a chance to escape. Lucy reached the door of her car; she’d managed to unlock it as she ran, her trusty Ford Focus sounding a comforting beep, beep. She grabbed the door handle, pulling the door open as fast as she could, scraping her leg on its the bottom edge, only to have her arm wrenched away with such brutal force it dislocated instantly and pain seared into her shoulder joint.
He stared into her eyes. Pain pulsed down her arm as the truth about her recognition of him and what he was bore down on her. As he stood ominously over her, there was no hiding it. Tears welled up in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled as John raised his hand up in a clenched fist above her head, realisation dawning of the futile situation she was now in. She was about to plead with him but before she could open her mouth, punches rained down on her fragile being. Her head and body were pummelled relentlessly and brutally until she was completely unrecognisable, face deformed, bruised and bloodied. He kept on until he was sure her life had passed from her body. He looked around him, his breathing heavy with the exertion, checking for any witnesses to the savage slaying. Scooping up her tiny body, he popped the Ford’s bonnet and dumped her in the boot, shoving her legs round cruelly to fit, showing no emotion or remorse for taking another innocent life. There was a bottle of mineral water in the front drinks holder and a cloth in the door of the car that he used to try and clean up some of the blood from the car and the ground nearby. This would at least conceal enough to buy him a little time to sort things out and possibly prevent detection or pursuit for a while longer, enabling his escape.
He turned and walked towards his own car, which was parked 50 metres away, locking Lucy’s as he went. He sighed and thought how lucky that turn of events had been. The girl had known who he was, who knows what she could have done to him? Apart from him stopping her blabbing, she had given him a thrill he hadn’t expected today. It was a pity he couldn’t treat her to the full package. She had been
quite a tidy wee thing and it was a shame to waste the chance of enjoying a body like that. She would have loved what he had to offer. He got in his car and was about to drive away when he remembered her shoes and got back out of the car to retrieve them when another car pulled into the parking lot.
“Shit,” he exclaimed, knowing he would have to leave them behind and hope no one missed her for a while.
He drove slowly as he left the car park, deliberately not drawing any attention to himself. He stopped a short distance away, he called his boss at work to apologise for his premature return to work, saying he would need to go off sick again as he had not fully recovered from his illness and had come back too soon. Another believable ploy, which would add legitimacy to his comings and goings and again give him more time to do what was necessary before they caught up with him; he needed time to have one more special evening with Susan. He was a bit bewildered at how quickly things had unravelled so badly for himself. One minute he was untouchable and the police didn’t have a clue and the next they were practically breathing down his neck; all of this because of Susan. How could he have been so careless? He should have made sure she was dead. He thought to himself about the night they’d spent together and his final blow, which would have killed a buffalo, but didn’t kill her. Susan’s will to live must be very strong, but not as strong as my desire to kill. I’ll have the last laugh and you’ll wish you had died that night, you useless bitch. I’ll make sure of that.
