I hung my head in despair. Looking back up at me, the test stick announced one word.
Pregnant
Beth, you were going to be a big sister! The laugh I gave was a blade of both joy and pain. You should have been around for this. You would have been such an incredible sister.
The knowledge that I was bringing another life into the world hardened something in me. Suddenly I knew that I must do whatever it took to make the world a safer place for my unborn baby. Even if it meant briefly placing myself and my child in danger. I would never let her down the way I had you.
A plan began to form.
I would have to be careful. To my knowledge, Glenn had already killed once, and was planning to do it again. What’s more, he kept a machete and a shotgun in the back of his van. He probably wouldn’t hesitate to use either of them on me and my unborn child.
But doing nothing wasn’t an option. I had to protect my family and other innocent kids. I had to stop another mother suffering the pain of my grief.
Ninety-Nine
I had got too cocky, that was the problem. Melanie had broken free of the maze of lies and misdirection I had created around her, and suddenly my lab rat had the potential to bite me. I couldn’t give her time to go to the police. It wasn’t simply that I didn’t want to get caught, it was that I was so close to completing my beautiful work of art.
Melanie had provided me with the ideal way of befriending little Roza Jachowski. The kid’s parents loved me because I’d gone round to warn them about the mob coming over before they arrived.
Of course, what the stupid Poles didn’t realise was that I was the one who had whipped the villagers up in the first place. It hadn’t taken much. Merely a few comments about ‘pikeys coming to the village and suddenly there was a pretty teenage girl hurt’. Telling the yokels in the pub about Melanie’s suspicions of Aleksy and making them sound a bit worse than they were.
It had been easy, when everyone was so suspicious of foreigners anyway, and so eager to find an obvious scapegoat for Beth’s attack.
So after nipping round to warn the Jachowskis that trouble was brewing, I’d just sat back and watched the entertainment unfold. It meant the parents trusted me around Roza – after all, I was the only good guy in the village, as far as they were concerned. Getting the kid to give me her phone so that I could Bluetooth all of her contacts to my new burner was easy too. Little brat thought I was simply getting a stupid ringtone.
Of course, I would never be so stupid as to hurt Roza. She was safe, because otherwise suspicion might fall on me. Instead, I would target her pals. Send a text, do a spot of fishing, see who replied. Then reel them in, just like I’d done with Tiffany. I had sent loads of texts out that night to the numbers I’d got from Katie’s phone. Hadn’t been able to believe my luck when a girl had got back to me so quickly. Things weren’t working quite so well with the Sally-Mae kid, but I would win her over in the end.
When I finally got to be alone with her, I would be more careful of the memento I would take. Keeping Tiffany’s notebook had been a stupid indulgence, I realised. Clearly that was what had made Melanie suspicious. It was the only explanation. I raged against myself for my stupidity and arrogance. I had thought it fun to use my little souvenir in front of her. The notebook of a murdered child right under the nose of a mother losing her own daughter. It had seemed hilarious and poetic.
Now I was left with the problem of how to get at Melanie – and quickly.
The only thing I could think of was to call her and persuade her to join me. But how?
She was still vulnerable, and that made people stupid. I’d appeal to that overweening maternal instinct of hers. I would tell her I’d had awful news about my daughter. Good job Melanie had no idea who Katie actually was; it had been a genius idea to pretend I had a kid. Made Melanie trust me all the more. Two parents missing their kids, aww, how tragic.
* * *
I wandered outside to make the call. Didn’t want to risk being overheard in the pub. It was almost 7 p.m. and the cloudless night made it cold and bright. The wind was getting up too. I shivered, but didn’t bother putting my coat on. I wouldn’t be outside long.
I unlocked my phone and it lit up in the darkness. Scrolling quickly, I found Melanie’s number and dialled.
A shout came from the other side of the road. Someone hurried towards me. Just for a moment, I felt completely and utterly nonplussed.
One Hundred
Over an hour had flashed by after I had emerged from my bathroom hiding place. In that time I had confirmed a few things online and firmed up my plan. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.
Jacob had fussed around me, trying to get me to eat. In the end, I had forced down a bowl of cereal to keep him happy. My stomach was still churning.
Your dad still didn’t know why I was being ill, Beth. I would tell him everything – almost everything – eventually. Once I told him I was expecting a baby I knew he wouldn’t let me out of his sight.
So when Jacob disappeared up to your room for a while, I had felt a guilty relief.
Then I had switched the living room lights off and stared out of the window, across the road to The Poacher.
Coat on, ready, I waited impatiently for Glenn. If my plan were to work, I needed a lucky break. I prayed to all the gods that had so badly let me down when I had appealed to them over you, Beth.
Glenn stepped outside. His face illuminated from below made him look like a devil in a spooky story as he scrolled through his phone.
Hurrying towards the front door, I took one last look around my little home, which used to be full of noise and laughter. There was a strong chance that I would never see it again. Glenn might well kill both me and the life of a child who no one even knew existed yet but me. Was I making a terrible mistake, gambling that way?
I laid my hand on my stomach and felt strength flow through me. The gamble was the only way to ensure that little life stayed safe.
I didn’t shout anything to Jacob; I’d no idea how to say goodbye, and didn’t want to risk losing my courage.
‘Stay,’ I whispered to Wiggins.
I slipped from the house, knowing I might not return.
Glenn looked confused for a second as I ran over to him, shouting his name. That innocent smile was skilfully slipped on, though; his eyes so wide, so blue, so twinkly. No one would ever guess his truth by looking at him.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
Now I could hear the slightly guarded nature of the question, could see the tiniest tension in the corners of his boyish grin. ‘You still look really pale, a bit feverish.’
‘Yes, that’s why I thought I’d get another breath of fresh air. Do you fancy going to the marsh? It’s a beautiful clear night.’
As I spoke, my breath floated into the air before me. It was a freezing night, not a cloud in the sky. A full moon gazed down to watch my fate unfold, as it had watched yours. It felt serendipitous, as if you were somehow backing me up, Beth.
I had rehearsed my excuse, trying to make it sound as natural as possible. After all, Glenn had no reason to suspect that I was up to anything. Still, I held my breath while waiting for his reply.
Glenn raised his eyebrows and positively beamed at me. ‘Of course I’ll come to the marsh.’
I shivered as we walked towards his van, and it wasn’t simply from the cold.
One Hundred One
How stupid was Melanie? I almost laughed in her face. She was clearly up to something, but that was fine because she equally didn’t realise that I knew. She had no clue that I’d spotted her going through my things.
As we walked to my van, I glanced around, pretending to look at her to see if she was okay. In reality I was making sure there were no witnesses. But it was a cold, dark Monday night. Everyone was at home, curtains drawn. No one to see Melanie Oak jump into the passenger seat of my van. No one to see us drive off in the direction of the marsh.
We didn’t speak much
on the journey. I put the radio on loud to drown out any noise and give me a chance to think, uninterrupted.
I definitely wouldn’t use the shotgun, I decided. Too noisy. Too messy. Too easy to trace back to me.
Perhaps I could somehow set her death up to look like suicide. People would totally buy that. If she caused me trouble once we were on the marsh, though, I could still just bash her head in, strangle her, whatever it took. Even if she were obviously murdered, it didn’t really matter. Suspicion would fall on others well before me. After all, Melanie had annoyed a lot of people. The Youngs, the Clarkes, the Daughtrey-Drews, even that James Harvey bloke – though he seemed to lack any bottle at all. All of them appeared to have a lot more reason than I to kill Melanie Oak.
Murdering Mel had never been part of my plan, but now it was happening, I was looking forward to it. It wouldn’t be as big a prize as killing a child, but it was way better than an animal. The longing that had been growing inside me these last months was finally going to be sated. My heart started to thrum, my blood singing with anticipation. I could barely keep the smile off my face.
Step into my parlour, little fly.
One Hundred Two
As usual, Glenn had chucked his coat onto the passenger seat rather than wear it. I pulled it over me like a blanket. This was crazy. Was I really going to face down a killer? But I thought of Tiffany, so casually murdered by this man. I thought of you, tossed aside like rubbish by your best friend. I thought of my unborn child.
I had to go through with this.
‘It’s freezing!’ I gasped. ‘Look at me, I’m shivering!’
I pulled it up under my chin, too busy doing that to bother with my seat belt for such a short journey.
‘Help yourself,’ laughed Glenn, watching me wriggling and trying to get warm despite my own coat, hat and gloves.
The weight of both phones in his inside pocket bumped against my body. Yes! It was the pocket on the side furthest from Glenn. Blindly, I slid my hands inside, hoping he wouldn’t spot my fingers wriggling.
‘Could you pop the heaters on full blast, please?’ I asked.
He turned the ignition, the engine roaring immediately. We plunged into darkness as the cab light went out. Glenn leaned over towards me – I fought the urge to lash out, to scream in panic – and pointed the air vents at me.
‘Better?’
‘Hmm, much. Thank you.’
He flipped the radio on too. Good – the noise would stop any conversation. The local station blared out tunes for lovers as we headed into the inky night. No time for nerves. I used the cover of darkness to get hold of the phones and slide them down towards my own pocket.
My heart was hammering. If Glenn saw me, anything could happen. A punch to the head to knock me out. Chopped into pieces with the machete, my dismembered corpse scattered across the marsh for the animals and birds to feast on, and the tide to steal my bones.
I thought of the police. I thought of the evidence they would need to convict a child killer. I thought of my plan.
The phones slid closer to my pockets. I fumbled at them, hands clumsy in my woollen gloves. In the dark, the mobiles slithered from my frantic grasp, skated down my leg onto the floor. If they made a thud it couldn’t be heard over the sound of the fans going full blast and the radio station’s advert jingles. I shuffled my feet desperately. The phones got pushed further under the seat.
That was my only shot.
My heart seemed to thud in my throat now. I reached for the notebook with frenetic fingers. Managed to hook it into my pocket and told myself that it was enough. That everything would work. It had to.
There were no tears. Only steely resolve. I was resigned to my fate now. No turning back.
One Hundred Three
As I drove over the hump of the sea bank and pulled into the car park, my stomach rumbled. I’d have pizza and chips for tea, and there was a film on television later that I fancied watching, once I’d dealt with Melanie’s body. This really was turning into the perfect night.
How best to kill her, though? My last kill had been planned for years, and now this one had sneaked up on me. It was a wonderful gift the world had decided to give me, in recognition of my power.
Keep things simple, I resolved.
I couldn’t be bothered with the hassle of trying to set things up cleverly to look like suicide. Not when I was this excited. I was like a child, eager to tear the wrapping off my present. My blood was pounding; my fingers twitching for the kill.
I was going to punch Mel, strangle her, then dump her in a creek. Not one of the meres, like those idiots the Clarkes had used for Beth; they were too shallow for the purpose. But the hidden fissures of the creeks were perfect. Overgrown. No one would notice her body. And if they did, well, hopefully she would have decomposed a bit by then; enough to disguise her injuries and confuse any possible forensic evidence. It would be particularly handy if some wildlife had a nibble at her.
Oh, to hear that last exhalation of breath as life slipped away. To feel the pulse quivering beneath my fingers, then stilling. To look into eyes begging me for mercy, and not to give an inch.
Melanie’s pale skin would turn a beautiful shade of blue, I decided, stealing a glance at her as I pulled into the car park. I bit my lip in delight at the joys to come.
One Hundred Four
When Glenn turned the van’s engine off, the silence was infinite. The isolation of the marsh was hammered home to me.
No one came here at night. No one would hear any screams for help.
Glenn shifted in his seat and turned to me. Hooked his coat away, exposing my body, and pulled it on. Then rested one elbow nonchalantly on the top of the steering wheel.
‘Well, I’m ready for anything. So, what now?’ he smiled.
It was not his usual boyish grin. It was slower, more calculated, and cold enough to freeze my bones. He knew. Oh God, Beth, he knew.
I was not ready to die. I would not let him take my child’s life the way he had stolen Tiffany Jones’s.
I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was 7.02 p.m. Time was running out.
Closer, closer, closer crept death.
I yanked at the door handle, just as I heard the central locking sliding into place. I was trapped.
A movement in the corner of my eye. I flung my body forward, thanking God I hadn’t done up my seat belt, and threw up my arm to ward off the expected blow. I struck out. Years ago I’d done a brief self-defence course, and had always remembered that instead of trying to hit a man where it obviously hurt, the best place to thump an attacker was his throat. My fist connected. Not hard, but enough to draw a gasp, a desperate struggle for breath.
I grappled for the lock, yanked it up and burst from the van, falling on all fours to the ground. The wind whistled a welcome that I ignored.
I only had minutes left. I knew that, Beth. I had to make them count.
Up on my feet I jumped, pelting straight out across the marsh. The ground firm at first, as I crashed through long, soft grass, giving way to low, coarse blades. Next was springy vegetation, up around my calves, trying to trip me up. The land got wetter. I slipped off a hummock, ankle turning, but kept going, the full moon lighting my way.
Must get away!
A splash of water as I hit boggy ground, feeling the ground sink beneath me in other parts. But I was swift, too swift for the sucking mud to grab me.
Still not swift enough, though.
There were footsteps behind me. Rapid, wheezing breath. Glenn had longer legs than me, and a killer instinct.
I forced myself to go faster. I was no gym bunny, but the endless walking of the past weeks had made me stronger and fitter. I carried less weight. And fear for my unborn child lent me wings, despite the headwind coming from the ocean trying to hold me back.
Throat burning with effort. Adrenaline pushing me forward. The ground was more uneven now, the hummocks twisting my ankles. I couldn’t see clearly enough to leap from o
ne to the other; all I could do was run, despite the pain. Ahead of me, the sea looked like mercury in the distance, out on the mudflats.
I ran for my life. I ran for my child’s. I ran for Jacob. I ran for you, Beth.
The footsteps, the breathing, they were catching up. Then fingers of steel would grab me. Choke the life from me. I would look up at the huge, remorseless sky, and it would be the last thing I would ever see.
Just a little bit further. Please, just a few more seconds of life.
Any. Minute. Now.
I hit a hummock; flew into the air, limbs flailing. Landed with a thud, helpless on the cold ground, the breath knocked from me. Twisting where I lay, I looked up into Glenn’s face. The friendly mask was gone, replaced with something as hard as metal in the cold moonlight.
‘Argh!’ I heard a cry of shock and pain.
Glenn had disappeared. Tumbled into a hidden creek. He gave a second roar, only the top of his head showing. I lay frozen, unable to tear my eyes away from his hands grasping at the vegetation as he tried to pull himself up. Another agonised yowl echoed high into the air, but the wind caught it before it could reach the unflinching moon.
I crawled forward, panting. Glenn’s enraged eyes met mine. He looked like a rat caught in a trap. He lashed out, but he couldn’t reach me.
He was in the creek you had led me to the other day, Beth. The one with the rusted oil drum and the barbed wire at the bottom of it. The one I almost fell into myself, until the egret you sent flew up and stopped me.
The Darkest Lies: A gripping psychological thriller with a shocking twist Page 32
