SECONDS TO DIE a totally gripping serial killer thriller with a twist (Detective Claudia Nunn Book 2)

by Rebecca Bradley

  With a change of subject Sharpe lit up another cigarette. ‘Have you decided what to do about Samuel Tyler yet?’

  Claudia shuffled on feet that were burning like she was on hot coals and cursed Sharpe silently. ‘As it happens, I’m visiting him today. I should have gone last week, but being early in the current murder investigation it wasn’t the right time. He moaned about it, through his solicitor, but it’s not like he’s going anywhere.’

  ‘Be careful, Claudia.’ Sharpe tapped the end of her cigarette with a perfectly polished fingernail.

  Claudia wasn’t used to such a show of concern. All she wanted, though, was to get out of this blazing sun.

  ‘I won’t allow him to play games with me. Don’t worry about that. I’m no mug.’

  Sharpe smiled. A strange affliction on her face. ‘Oh, I know you’re not. What does your dad think about it?’

  That was a loaded question. What did her dad think about it? How could she answer? She wasn’t sure herself. He’d been angry when she first told him and then . . . Then he’d tried to talk her out of it. For her own safety, he’d said. Tyler would mess with her head. Hurt her emotionally. Her dad didn’t want to see her go through that. He’d pleaded with her not to go. When that hadn’t worked, he’d given her the silent treatment. Now there was an uneven truce.

  ‘He’s not particularly happy, to say the least. But it’s not his decision. Even though it hurts him, I have to hear what Tyler has to say. Something is niggling at me. It won’t let me rest until I’ve heard him out. Hopefully it’ll be a pile of shit and I can settle and forget all about him. Allow the court system to do its thing and send him down for a very long time.’

  ‘There should be no doubt about that. The evidence is overwhelming. And as far as Dominic is concerned, he’ll get over it. Grief is a difficult emotion to process.’ She tapped on the end of her cigarette again and eyed Claudia over the top of it. ‘As you well know. But with time, and with the trial ongoing, Dominic will work his way through all the stages. You’re probably at different stages than each other, and that’s why it’s so awkward between you. Give yourself room to breathe, Claudia.’

  Sharpe was rarely kind, but when she was, she dispatched some decent words of wisdom, and Claudia was grateful.

  ‘Do you have any sense of what he wants?’ Sharpe asked.

  Claudia stared off into the distance. The heat rising from the asphalt, shimmering like silver in the air. ‘No. The solicitor says she has no idea, just that it’ll be worth my while.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t imagine anything worth my while with that scumbag. He’s already caused me no end of pain with Dominic, never mind the business that got him there in the first place.’

  Sharpe finished her cigarette and stubbed it out on the ground the same way she had her initial one, ignoring the cigarette bins that stood like silent defenders on either side of the smoking shed. The construction was called a shed, but in reality was a wooden three-sided contraption, wide open at the front so people could gather and inhale the fumes with which they were slowly killing themselves. ‘If you need anything from me, don’t hesitate to ask.’ And with that she strode away, heels clacking, towards the building that housed the control centre of South Yorkshire Police.

  CHAPTER 17

  Doncaster category B prison, also known by the inmates and locals as Doncatraz, was one of a few privately run prisons in the country. The overcrowding problem caused a high-level tension to run through the prison. Claudia would have to keep her wits about her.

  Booking in was a lengthy process. The smell of decaying meat and sweaty feet caught at the back of Claudia’s throat every time she visited a prison. She hated the places. Men locked up for hours a day. Desperate for anything new to enter their world. Leering and goading.

  As you walked through corridors, all eyes were on you, determined to know who you were. These men made Claudia’s skin crawl. She could imagine the thoughts running through their heads as she strode alongside the prison guard, he in his familiar uniform and her in jeans and a T-shirt, with a jacket over the top.

  She’d dressed down for today so she didn’t stand out as a cop as much as usual. In a suit they’d have her pegged as a cop straight away. In jeans it was nearly as bad, but there was room for doubt. They hated cops, and a female cop gave them reason to leer at her body and offer violent thoughts all at the same time. It was vicious.

  The heat of the day meant the T-shirt was clinging to her more than she’d wanted it to, but whatever clothing she’d gone with, she’d have the same problem. Claudia wriggled her back in an attempt to loosen the material, to no effect.

  She cursed the warm weather and dreamed of a colder afternoon where she could cover up in a woollen sweater. She had kept her jacket on for this purpose and it was unbearable. Her body did not embarrass her, but neither did she want to flaunt it in a place like this. A place where men wished nasty, evil acts upon you. Where all that separated you was a thin layer of metal bars in some corridors. If they so wanted to, arms could reach through and grab out at her. Corner her, like an animal. When the reality was, they were the ones locked up like animals in the worst conditions. It really was no wonder they lauded any power they could get when they saw the opportunity.

  Claudia held her head high and strode on through until she reached the room she needed.

  Tyler’s solicitor was with him already. The solicitor had secured a private legal room for the occasion. Claudia wasn’t sure how she felt about this. There were no cameras and no microphones on the grounds of legal privilege. It didn’t feel very secure to her, but she wasn’t about to back down and act all scared and give him the upper hand. She’d get this over and done with then walk out on him and never have to see him again.

  The solicitor held out her hand and introduced herself. Claudia was so focused on Tyler that she was incapable of taking anything else in, and the name completely passed her by. As they sat around the table Claudia noticed the solicitor had a prosthetic leg. She was wearing a regular-looking navy pencil skirt and beautiful ballerina pumps, and as she crossed her legs, the material of the prosthetic shined under the strip light of the prison room.

  Claudia looked away quickly, not wanting to be seen staring.

  The solicitor, whose name Claudia hated herself for not remembering, smiled to herself. It didn’t matter — she deserved that.

  So far Tyler had said nothing. He was sitting quietly on the chair on the other side of the table.

  ‘Mr Tyler has asked that I be present for this meeting,’ said the solicitor, pulling an A4-sized notepad from her briefcase.

  Claudia agreed. She had nothing against her being here. She just wanted this to be done so she could then get out of there. ‘What do you want?’ she growled at Tyler.

  The solicitor stared at Claudia, surprise showing on her face at the rudeness shown to her client.

  Surely, thought Claudia, she knows what he did to Ruth and doesn’t expect anything else.

  Tyler looked to the solicitor, who gave a curt nod and allowed him to speak. ‘Thank you for coming, DI Nunn.’

  At least he’d addressed her correctly, though after a period in prison he would become institutionalised and call her Miss, as with all female members of staff in the building. It became entrenched. When interviewing offenders at work, you always recognised the ones who had done time because they called you Miss.

  ‘Get on with it.’ She had no patience.

  ‘You know I’m not contesting the charges that have been laid against me for the murders of the women over the last year.’ He spoke well. He wasn’t a common criminal. He was a man who had supported families before his downfall. He had been a victim support officer. Victim Support was an independent charity, but one which worked alongside the police. They had taken his arrest and charge badly and had put out a statement disowning him.

  Claudia ground her teeth. Hearing what the women had been through, coming from his mouth, made her stomach ache.

  It was obv
ious that Tyler took her silence as acceptance to continue. ‘What I do contest however is the charge that I murdered the police officer, Ruth Harrison. I didn’t kill Ruth Harrison. I never met Ruth Harrison. You won’t find any of my DNA on Ruth Harrison.’

  They didn’t need his DNA, they had enough evidence against him. Her murder matched the women he was pleading guilty to. Including part of the MO that was not released to the public. There was no way it could have been anyone else, because no one else was aware of the facts. Claudia stared at him and crossed her arms tight across her body, tensing her fingers into a fist in her armpits.

  Tyler returned her look. He waited for her response, but when one was not forthcoming, he spoke again. ‘I’m sorry for your loss. I truly am. The murders I committed benefitted the children of the women I killed, so they could have better lives without having those women as mothers. You see that, don’t you?’

  The solicitor didn’t move other than to scribble notes in the pad, her pen moving silently over paper.

  ‘But Ruth didn’t have children. I told you this when you arrested me. I needed you to hear it again. And this time I’ll tell you why. My own mother was a failure. Look at my hand.’ He held out his left hand, and Claudia looked down at the vivid scarring. Soft pink skin and red ridges, a visible memory of a painful past.

  ‘What happened?’ Claudia whispered, shocked at the violent-looking skin. She’d caught a glimpse of his hand when she’d arrested him, but he’d quickly been whisked away into a police vehicle and she’d thought no more of it.

  None of the Strangler’s victims had been burnt in this way. How did this link to his murders?

  ‘When I was a child, my mother left me in the house on my own. She hadn’t fed me before leaving, so I thought I’d make a bacon sandwich.’

  Claudia winced. The solicitor continued writing.

  ‘I’d seen how she made them, so I put a pan of fat on the hob to do it myself. Only I was too small to do it properly and when I was trying to turn the bacon I tipped the edge of the pan and the whole lot came over onto me. My hand caught the majority of the fat as I tried to catch it and stop it making a mess of my mum’s kitchen. I didn’t want to be in trouble.’

  He stared straight into Claudia’s eyes. ‘She’d told me to be a good boy.’

  A shiver ran down Claudia’s spine. The words thousands of mothers uttered to their children every day. What effect was it having on them? She still didn’t see how this was related to the killings. To Ruth not having children.

  ‘Do you know where my mother had gone, DI Nunn?’ He spoke quietly, as though the memory were right there in front of him. Vivid and clear and cruel in its clarity.

  This time the solicitor looked at Claudia. It was as though she were under some kind of test. One she really wished she knew the answer to. Because failing this test could mean any number of scenarios would be played out. She shook her head. Hoping this wouldn’t go against her.

  ‘My mother had gone out on a date and left me alone to fend for myself. She’d left me alone and hungry and in a dangerous situation because she wanted a fuck.’

  The last word pierced the air and hung there in front of them. Angry and vulgar. The way he thought of the woman who bore him. Little shocked Claudia though, especially language. But Tyler’s face was puce. This was where his fury had come from. The reason for his killing. He wanted to protect the children of women who just wanted to date. Women who were nothing but lonely, whose children were actually old enough to be left alone or were left with responsible adults. Only Tyler’s mind was so warped by his past he could see no further than the concept of a mother dating, and he’d wreaked his own revenge.

  ‘Your mother is dead?’ Claudia guessed.

  Tyler nearly spat at her in response to this psychoanalysing of him. The solicitor placed a calming hand on his arm and he sat back in his chair.

  A heavy quiet filled the air.

  Claudia ran through what Tyler had told her. Ruth didn’t have children, though her undercover profile did. But, when she’d been taken, she’d been taken from her own home, not from a prearranged meeting place from the dating app they’d been using. Whoever abducted her knew enough about her to know her home address, would most likely also know she didn’t have children of her own. Claudia was an adult step-child. A fully grown, functioning, police step-child. If the killer was Samuel Tyler, then he wouldn’t be interested in Ruth.

  ‘You were killing your mother every time,’ Claudia said.

  Finally, Tyler spoke again. ‘On the nose, Detective Inspector Nunn. On the nose. And if that is true, then why would I choose Ruth Harrison?’

  CHAPTER 18

  Dominic returned from his walk to the home where his wife had been murdered. People, he knew, silently wondered — and it was silent questioning, because they never dared ask him to his face — how he could continue to live in the same place Ruth had been killed. He could see it in their eyes whenever he mentioned going home or what he’d been doing on his rest days.

  But for Dominic, it wasn’t the space they all imagined it was. To them it was now a home that a stranger had entered and had fiercely taken the life of one of them. To Dominic, it was his home. A home that had seen an argument flare up, admittedly. But it was his business and no one else’s. He saw no reason to run and hide from it.

  Today he was anxious, though. Claudia had been to visit Samuel Tyler, and he had no control over what the conversation would contain. What Tyler would say to his daughter or how she would react.

  As he waited, the images of that night replayed in his mind. The argument where Ruth had threatened him. The potential loss of all he knew. Ruth at the kitchen sink. His decision as she stood with her back to him. The anger with her gradually manifesting itself and growing until he could no longer ignore it. And there was the feeling of his hands around her throat. The life as it slowly slipped from her. Her eyes losing focus until there was nothing left but a plan ahead of him.

  Now Claudia was returning from visiting the very man who could bring him down. His brain wanted to explode.

  Eventually there was a knock at the front door and he heard it immediately open.

  Dominic took a deep breath, shuddering as the walls closed in on him. Claudia was here.

  He walked from the kitchen, where he’d been pacing, to greet her.

  ‘Hey, Dad.’ There was a gentle smile on her face.

  That wasn’t the smile of someone who wanted to wipe the earth with you. He let out some air, the tension leaving his muscles.

  ‘You’re back.’ It was all he could offer. He could barely speak to her. He was still furious. She was putting his life at so much risk. Little did she understand that.

  Claudia moved past him towards the living room and he followed like a lost puppy. He had no choice. He needed to know what had been said. He studied her face as she passed. It was neither angry nor upset.

  He had loved his daughter her whole life and had witnessed a whole gamut of emotions from her in that time, but at this moment he had no idea how she was feeling.

  ‘What happened?’ He couldn’t hold it in any longer.

  ‘Are we having a drink?’ she asked.

  Dominic clenched his teeth. He just wanted to get on with it. Was she dragging this out to punish him?

  ‘Wine?’ It was what she drank.

  ‘Half a glass. I drove over, but I could really do with one.’

  He stomped to the kitchen and returned with half a glass of white, as requested, and a can of beer. If she needed Dutch courage, then he definitely needed it. He slugged back a mouthful and waited for her.

  Claudia took a sip of her wine and swilled the rest around the glass. ‘It was difficult seeing him, Dad.’

  He supposed it was. After all, she believed he had murdered her step-mother and best friend.

  ‘Tell me about it?’ He sat on the sofa. Attempting not to show his anger or his fear. To be the caring father she needed. To show their unity in grief.
/>
  Claudia was still standing. Her shoulders tense and her jaw tight. ‘He told me the reason he killed those women.’ She’d been staring into her wine glass but looked up at Dominic now. ‘You saw his hand?’

  ‘I saw it.’ Dominic had met Tyler before he’d been identified as the Strangler.

  ‘It’s all to do with that and his mother. When he was killing the women, he was ultimately killing his mother. Each and every time.’

  ‘It must have been hard to hear.’ So far he hadn’t heard anything about Ruth. He’d go along with her.

  There was silence. Was she expecting more from him? He didn’t dare speak in case he said something that would trip him up. That had been his problem when talking to Claudia about this before. It had been close to unbearable when Sharpe and Connelly had instructed Claudia to interview him when Ruth went missing.

  Their tactic that Claudia would be the one to unnerve him if he’d done anything wrong was the right move to make. So many times he’d been on the edge. The slightest extra push and he’d have tumbled over. But something had always saved him.

  The fact that Claudia was there to unsettle him had also had the opposite effect. He was her father, and she could never push as hard as she would any other suspect. She had even taken him to the crime scene after he had planted the idea in her head, and it was there he had managed to show her how human he was.

  Yes, Sharpe and Connelly’s plan was so close to working. So very close, they just didn’t realise. But now he had to keep it up. Now it was Claudia who was unaware she was keeping him on the knife edge. His every word, his every emotion, he had to hold them in check, terrified they were going to leak out and the net would close in around him and take his life away.

  ‘Dad?’ Claudia had been speaking to him.

  He focused on her. ‘I’m sorry. I was a world away. Did you say something?’

  ‘Do you think there’s a chance he didn’t kill Ruth?’

  His nerves jumped, and it took all his power not to fly at her in fury for even following this train of thought. Dominic slid his free hand behind his back and closed his fist. ‘No. No, I don’t, Claudia. Samuel Tyler is guilty of killing all those women. The evidence backs it up. Don’t fall for his games. I don’t know why he’s doing this to you, but don’t allow him to do it.’