The Hangman's Hold

by Michael Wood

  ‘Who has your number?’

  He shrugged. ‘A lot of people. It’s on my Facebook page.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake.’

  ‘That will do, Matilda,’ Valerie chastised.

  ‘Danny, tell them about the third call,’ Kate said.

  ‘The third was similar to the first. He told me Joe Lacey was a murderer who was involved in a hit-and-run. He supplied all the details. I just listened.’

  ‘And the fourth conversation,’ Kate prompted.

  ‘Conversation?’ Matilda asked, aghast. ‘You mean you spoke to him?’

  ‘He called me yesterday. He told me he’s going after a child killer.’

  ‘What? He’s told you his next victim?’ Matilda almost cried out.

  ‘No. He didn’t give me a name.’

  ‘What does this person sound like? Does he have a local accent? Does he sound old or young?’

  ‘Matilda,’ Valerie gave her DCI a dark look, as if chastising a small child.

  Danny struggled. ‘I don’t know. It’s a low, deep voice. The last call seemed different from the others. It may not have been the same person. It could be someone pissing about.’

  ‘We have had a few hoaxes,’ Kate interjected.

  ‘How do you know they were hoaxes?’ Matilda asked.

  ‘Over twenty years’ experience,’ Kate smiled.

  ‘We’ll need your phone,’ Matilda said, turning to Danny.

  ‘Now steady on,’ Kate said.

  Valerie held up her hands. ‘Can we all just calm down one second, please? I think we’re letting our emotions get the better of us. Danny, you said you had a conversation with the killer. What did you talk about?’

  ‘He, er, he said he was going to murder a child killer. I asked him why.’

  ‘What was his answer?’

  ‘He said she was a criminal. He said the police weren’t doing anything about it, so he was going to instead, because someone had to make a stand.’

  ‘He definitely said she?’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a silence.

  ‘Tell them everything, Danny,’ Kate instructed.

  Danny cleared his throat and licked his lips nervously. ‘He said that murderers were being allowed to go free and Matilda Darke wasn’t doing anything to stop them.’

  The silence in the room intensified and all eyes turned to Matilda.

  ‘He actually mentioned DCI Darke by name?’ Valerie asked.

  Danny nodded.

  ‘Go on,’ prompted Kate.

  ‘I asked him how he knew she wasn’t doing anything about it. He said that she was a murderer herself, so she had sympathy for the killers.’

  Valerie almost fell back into her seat, her mouth wide with shock. Matilda went white.

  ‘Who have you killed, DCI Darke?’ Kate asked, her voice loud and clear.

  Matilda scoffed at the ridiculousness of the question. ‘I haven’t killed anyone.’

  ‘The murderer seems to think so. Who do you think he has in mind?’

  ‘I really don’t think this line of questioning is necessary,’ Valerie said, still reeling from the shock of Danny’s admission.

  ‘You see, I think it is. I’m sure the readers of The Star will too. Matilda is a highly respected detective. She was in charge of the Murder Investigation Team and is now head of CID with a very large team of detectives beneath her. If she is a killer, people have a right to know.’

  ‘Kate, do you honestly believe I would allow a known killer to be in charge of CID? A murderer to serve as a detective? This is obviously a slander to detract from the killer’s own motive, enabling him to continue while all eyes are on Matilda and this force.’

  James cleared his throat. He sat back in his seat and watched the drama play out, his eyes batting back and forth like a spectator on Centre Court at Wimbledon.

  Kate was relishing having the upper hand. ‘Matilda, if this killer is going after people who he feels haven’t fully paid their debt to society, aren’t you nervous of being caught by the Hangman?’

  ‘I sincerely hope you’re not going to be using that nickname in your papers,’ Valerie said.

  ‘Too late for that, I’m afraid,’ she smiled. ‘The afternoon edition is already rolling as we speak. So, Matilda, the name of your victim …?’

  ‘I can only assume,’ Matilda began, her voice shaking, ‘the killer was talking about Carl Meagan. Nobody knows what has happened to him. However, from my point of view, if he is discovered dead, I will consider myself to be a contributor to his murder.’ A tear slid down Matilda’s face. She didn’t wipe it away.

  ‘I think we should perhaps leave it there, for now, don’t you?’ Valerie said, looking nervously at every one in turn.

  ‘Fear is spreading through Sheffield like the plague, Valerie. They want to know they’re safe and that South Yorkshire Police is committed to catching this killer before he strikes again. From what I’ve witnessed here, I’d say they’ve every reason to be concerned. I know I won’t be sleeping safely in my bed tonight.’

  ‘Every single officer working for South Yorkshire Police is committed to keeping the people of this county safe,’ Valerie said, standing up. She straightened her uniform, something to do to hide the shaking of her hands.

  Valerie ushered Kate and Danny to the door. Kate, however, wasn’t finished.

  ‘DCI Darke, don’t you think it’s about time you stepped down?’ she asked. ‘Allow someone with a stronger personality to take control, perhaps.’

  Matilda jumped up out of her seat. ‘Well, if you hadn’t withheld crucial evidence from the police, while two people were being murdered, maybe we would have already caught the killer. I hope you think of that when you’re sleeping in your bed tonight.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Valerie had followed Kate and Danny out of the office, slamming the door behind her. Matilda and James were left alone in the awkward silence.

  ‘You just played right into her hands,’ James said.

  ‘I know. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it, though. Did you see the way she kept grinning at me? Bitch.’

  ‘She’s a journalist. It’s what she does. Your job is to rise above it.’

  Valerie came back in. Her face like thunder. She didn’t take her eyes off Matilda until she had sat back down. She was breathing heavily, fuming at the outcome of the meeting.

  ‘What the hell were you thinking of?’ she eventually said. ‘I think I’ve managed to persuade them not to print any of that. I’ve had to promise them exclusives if any further victims are discovered. I simply cannot conceive …’ she stopped when she saw the look on James’s face. She turned to Matilda, the broken DCI to her left. The anger she felt faded away. ‘Matilda, how are you feeling?’

  ‘Sick,’ she said quietly.

  ‘James, I notice you didn’t contribute to the meeting. I’m hoping you have drawn some conclusions,’ Valerie said.

  James adjusted himself in his seat and smoothed down his tie. ‘It’s safe to say your team are in the clear when it comes to someone leaking information to the press. I can’t help thinking that the killer’s motives changed after his first victim.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, Brian Appleby isn’t from Sheffield, so nobody within South Yorkshire Police worked on his case. Not one single officer, including Matilda, knew he was living here until he was killed. However, the killer is targeting Matilda now, but couldn’t have been at the time he murdered his first victim.’

  Valerie looked perplexed as she thought. ‘Maybe he was waiting to see which detective was going to oversee the case.’

  ‘No. If the killer had knowledge of who Brian Appleby was, then he’s going to know who is working in South Yorkshire Police and who will be in charge of the investigation. He will have already known there was a high chance it would be Matilda.’

  ‘So you think that something happened after Brian Appleby was found to force him to switch his, anger, shall we
say, towards Matilda?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Maybe Matilda has already met the killer and he’s become fixated on her for whatever reason.’

  Both Valerie and James turned to look at Matilda who was still staring into the distance.

  ‘Matilda, I’m going to need a list of all the people you’ve come into contact with since all this began.’

  Matilda shook her head. ‘That isn’t going to be a long list. It’s not me who interviews the suspects. It’s not me who goes knocking on doors. The only people I see are the members of my team, the scene of crime officers and the pathologists.’

  ‘If it’s not someone Matilda already knows, James, who could the killer be?’

  James was uncomfortable. He looked briefly at Matilda before going back to Valerie. ‘If Matilda doesn’t know the killer, then she obviously has a stalker who is very good at what he does.’

  Valerie asked James to leave them both. He offered a few words of comfort to Matilda, but they fell on deaf ears.

  Valerie moved seats, so she was sitting next to the DCI.

  ‘Matilda, you spent more time with Philip and Sally Meagan than anyone else. Do you think one of them could be targeting you?’ Valerie asked, her tone was gentle.

  Matilda shook her head.

  ‘They will need to be interviewed,’ Valerie said. ‘I’ll send Sian round. Matilda, I want you to go home.’

  ‘I can’t turn my back on this. It’s one of the biggest cases I’ve had in years.’

  ‘It’s also the most personal. I’m not asking you to turn your back on it, but you’ve had a shock. We all have. I want you to take a couple of days off, have a good long think about who, in your past, is capable of doing something like this.’

  ‘No. I need to be here.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’

  Matilda started crying. ‘Shit!’ She tried to hide her tears, but it was too late. ‘I don’t want to be home on my own.’ She could barely control her emotions as the tears took over.

  ‘I’ll give Adele a ring, get her to come and collect you. I’m sure she won’t mind you spending more time at hers. I’ll also get someone to go over your house, check the security.’

  Matilda smiled through the sniffles. ‘The security’s fine. James made sure of that before he died. He knew I was going to be on my own in that big house, so he had everything alarmed.’

  ‘It can’t hurt giving it an inspection, can it?’

  Matilda wiped her eyes and composed herself. ‘Carl Meagan is going to haunt me forever, isn’t he?’

  ‘I’d be lying if I said no,’ Valerie said. She pulled her chair closer to Matilda and sat down. ‘When I was first made a DI, I was in Brighton. There was a young girl called Charlotte Knowles. She was only seventeen and so beautiful. Tall, slim, long blonde hair. She was found murdered on Boxing Day, strangled and dumped in woodland. Her parents were inconsolable. We interviewed her boyfriend, an ex-boyfriend, both of whom had alibis. We spoke to friends, tutors at her college, neighbours, family members, but nobody stood out as a suspect. We tested over a thousand volunteers for the DNA, but we came up with nothing. To this day, I have no idea who killed Charlotte Knowles, and she is constantly on my mind. I remember her birthday, the day she went missing, the day she was found, the day of the funeral. Even now, twenty-six years later, I still think of her, and her family. I have an excellent record for the cases I worked on, but I can never, and will never, forget Charlotte. Charlotte Knowles is my Carl Meagan. You’ll never forget him, and for that, I’m sorry.’

  Matilda had stopped crying. She looked at her boss. She had never seen her so thoughtful, so human, before. ‘We can’t find them all, can we?’

  ‘Unfortunately, no, we can’t.’

  The ACC and the DCI sat in silent contemplation for a while. People often thought about the families of the victims who didn’t have justice, but nobody thought of the police officers, the detectives investigating and doing everything in their power, and more, to find those responsible. They too carried the burden for the rest of their lives, but nobody gave them a second thought. They’re supposed to be above emotional involvement, but a good detective cares. Valerie cared about Charlotte Knowles, and still does. Matilda cared about Carl Meagan and will do until the day she dies.

  ‘Help yourself to another coffee. I’ll give Adele a ring,’ Valerie said, breaking the silence.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me staying?’ Matilda asked again, standing in Adele’s hallway.

  ‘For the eight hundredth time, no, I do not mind. Matilda, you’re my friend. My house is your house. Now, make yourself comfortable in the living room while I get us a drink. Not there, that’s my spot,’ she said as Matilda was about to sit on the sofa. ‘I’m joking, sit where you like.’

  Matilda perched on the edge of the sofa and looked around. Adele’s house was lived-in. It was a proper cosy family home full of gifts and items bought from holidays, with photos on the wall of Chris growing up. Matilda smiled at a framed one on the mantelpiece that she remembered taking at Halloween about ten years ago. Adele was dressed as Morticia Addams with Chris as Pugsley. Everything in Matilda’s home was sterile. There was the odd photograph of her and James, but she wanted to keep the majority of her memories private to her bedroom.

  ‘Here you go.’ Adele entered carrying two empty glasses in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other. ‘Now, tell me everything that’s going on.’

  ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You can. You know I’m not going to tell anyone.’

  ‘No. I mean, I can’t tell you because I’ve no idea myself.’

  ‘Oh, Mat.’

  ‘Someone is targeting me. Someone hates me so much that they’ve killed two people so far, and I know there are going to be more, I know it. Why would anyone do something like this? If they hate me then just come for me.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘Why not? What kind of an egotistical power trip are they on?’

  ‘I don’t know, Mat, but if this person is on some kind of a power trip then that makes them incredibly dangerous. I don’t like the thought of them just coming for you. I don’t want you to end up dead.’

  ‘So what do I do? Go into hiding?’

  ‘No. You fight. You fight hard. Whoever he is, he’s a coward. He doesn’t have the balls to face what he thinks is so important, so he’s committing his murders to make up for his own shortcomings. But you do have the balls. You need to find him and show him you’re not going away.’

  ‘He’s killed two people, Adele, he’s got balls.’

  ‘But he doesn’t have them where it counts. Say he is targeting you, why doesn’t he just come up to you? Because he’s scared. He’s hiding behind some kind of macho bravado he’s invented to make himself look good. Beneath it all, he’s nothing more than a schoolyard bully.’

  Adele’s words seemed to make sense. Why hadn’t James Dalziel come up with this?

  ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘I do. Don’t hide and don’t be on your own. Stand up, rally your army, and come out fighting.’

  ‘I’m not much of a fighter,’ Matilda said.

  ‘You don’t have to be. You have people on your side – Christian, Aaron, Sian, Rory, Scott, Faith, me and Chris. We’re your army.’

  Adele noticed Matilda’s face soften. She had got through to her. She put her arms around her and pulled her into a friendly hug.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Sian looked through the closed iron gates at the large five-bedroom house. There were lights on, obviously someone at home. She had no reason to turn around and go back to her car, though that’s what she wanted to do. She took a deep breath and pressed the button on the intercom.

  ‘Hello,’ came the reply.

  Sian cleared her throat. ‘My name is Detective Sergeant Sian Mills from South Yorkshire Police. I’d like a word with either Sally or Philip Meagan please.’
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  ‘Hold your identification up to the camera, please, above the speaker.’

  Sian wrestled with her warrant card and pulled it out of her inside pocket. She held it to the small lens. There was no reply, no more comment, just the gates starting to open.

  Pocketing the warrant card, Sian made her way up the gravel drive. She felt she was being watched from the house and tried to be confident and professional. With her shoulders back and her head high, she took long strides. At the solid wooden front door she raised a gloved fist to knock, but it was opened before she had a chance.

  ‘DS Mills, I’m Sally Meagan, please, come on in.’

  Sally Meagan was five-foot nine in heels. She was dressed elegantly in flowing black trousers and a white shirt with frilly collar. Her naturally wavy hair was dyed blonde and rested on her shoulders. Her understated make-up was a cover to add life to her painful face. The unknown, the grief, the worry was a permanent feature.

  She stepped to one side and closed the door behind Sian, who looked in awe at the tastefully decorated hallway.

  ‘Do you have any news?’ Sally asked, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

  Before she could answer, a large golden Labrador bounded into the hallway from the living room. With tail wagging and tongue lolling, he came to a stop by Sian and started sniffing her.

  ‘Woody, stop that. Sorry. He’ll calm down in a minute. He’s the nosiest dog in the world.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ Sian smiled, bending to stroke the dog. ‘I remember him from … well, when we first met. He was just a puppy then.’

  ‘Yes. We got him for Carl when he was six. They were inseparable. Woody hasn’t barked since the day Carl disappeared. He still pines for him in the evenings.’

  Woody had lain down and rolled onto his back for Sian to scratch his tummy. He seemed to be enjoying the attention.

  ‘Is it about Carl, why you’ve come here?’ Sally asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

  ‘No, I’m sorry, I haven’t,’ Sian quickly replied.

  ‘Oh.’ Her face fell. Another knife in the heart. ‘Would you like to go through to the lounge?’ she asked, pointing the way. Her voice suddenly cold.