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

by Rebecca Bradley

  He looked at the clock on his dashboard. It was 11.10 p.m. He needed to get this done and get some sleep as they had an early start again in the morning and he was no spring chicken any more.

  The roads were quiet at this time of night. It was obvious where the driver was heading. He’d been to his girlfriend’s and was driving home for the night.

  With one last click of his indicator, the driver pulled over and parked in front of his home.

  Dominic pulled in behind him.

  A young lad climbed out of the driver’s side, unfolding himself as he was tall and willowy. Under the street light his face was pasty, a grey hue to it. His wide eyes stared in panic at Dominic, hands at waist height in case he needed to defend himself.

  ‘Hunter Lawton?’ Dominic asked as he took a couple of steps towards him.

  The boy stepped back the same amount. ‘Who’s asking?’

  He was a good kid. He wasn’t into drugs or theft as far as Dominic knew, so wouldn’t be expecting trouble from any quarter. Dominic shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out his leather wallet and flashed his ID. It was quick. Too quick for the kid to see any details other than the police crest. ‘Police. I need to speak to you.’

  The boy went rigid.

  Dominic moved closer to him. He could see acne scars on his cheeks and chin now. Some were deep. They’d trouble him through his life. Dominic and Claudia had both been lucky in that respect and had not suffered badly with teenage skin.

  ‘I haven’t done anything.’ He waved his hands about in the air as if to dismiss something that might be floating around him, pointing out his flaws.

  Dominic took the last couple of steps so he was closer to the boy. He didn’t want to have to shout his business in the street for the neighbours to hear. This was between him and the boy. ‘Your driving, Hunter. I couldn’t pull you over as I don’t have my uniform on. I had to wait until you stopped.’

  His jaw slackened.

  ‘You know why I want to talk to you?’ It was so easy.

  ‘I . . . I . . . might have gone a little . . . over . . .’

  ‘You were speeding.’

  The boy’s neck vanished as his head sunk into his shoulders, like a tortoise going into hiding.

  ‘You’re going to give me a ticket?’

  Dominic thought he could see tears glistening in the boy’s eyes. ‘No, I’m not going to give you a ticket.’

  The boy lifted his chin. His chest puffing out.

  ‘You’re going to remember there’s a speed limit on the road in future? Even at night when there’s little on the road?’ Dominic kept his voice stern.

  ‘I . . . I promise.’ Like a nodding dog.

  ‘Okay then.’ He made a show of registering the vehicle’s details but in reality he already had them. There was no need to write them down again. But he needed the kid to be afraid that he’d be stopped in the future and have his licence taken from him. ‘You know as a new driver you’re on thin ground with your licence, don’t you?’

  Again, the nodding dog.

  ‘Which is why I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt today. I don’t want to have to see you again, do you hear me?’ He made to move away, back to his own vehicle.

  The boy agreed wholeheartedly. Dominic just wanted to get out of there before any nosy neighbour intruded and butted in. Or, God forbid, his mother came out to see what was happening.

  He grabbed his car door handle and turned back to the boy, ‘Oh, Hunter, do tell your dad I said hello.’

  CHAPTER 28

  Wednesday came at the most sluggish pace. Claudia was showered, dressed and out the door before it had even barely lifted its own eyes.

  She wasn’t the only one with the same idea. The rest of the team were trailing in and grabbing drinks around her, feeling the same need to find their victim before he was hanged from the bridge and the life drained from him.

  Someone shoved a tea in her hand. She gratefully received it.

  Claudia held the morning briefing at six thirty. The earliest she could remember them starting in a long time. It was brief. A recap of where they were yesterday. Claudia tried not to focus on the day as a failure, but as a step closer to finding their man and the spot they needed.

  ‘Today we locate that area, even if we don’t find the owner of the trainers. That way we can camp out there and catch our killer in the act of stringing the victim up before he dies. Get him the help he needs and make the arrest — for the murder of Oliver and for the attempted murder of this new male.’ It was all positive energy pumping from her. This was the way she wanted to send her team back out into the world.

  ‘We only have a few hours left. Let’s get this done, guys.’ She clapped her hands together.

  Chairs scraped on the floor as everyone rose from their desks, ready to go out into the brightening day, to search for the location shown on the drawing. This was their last chance. They were well aware of that. They couldn’t fail.

  The call came in at 8 a.m.

  Claudia’s heart plummeted when the control room called it through to them.

  A stunned silence filled the room. They hadn’t been able to find the bridge in time. They had failed the man in the image. They had failed to arrest the killer taunting them. They had failed.

  The air in Claudia’s office was suffocating.

  She rose. ‘We have to head out and process the scene.’ Her voice was thin.

  ‘You want me and Dom to deal with it?’ Russ asked.

  She whirled on him. ‘No, I bloody don’t. Yes, we failed, but this is still my team. As long as I’m head of the task force then I’m in charge, I’m SIO and I’m heading out to deal with it.’

  Russ recoiled as if she had actually whipped him. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Claudia consciously relaxed her shoulders, which were hunched up to her ears. ‘Me too. I shouldn’t have reacted that way.’ She moved towards the door. ‘Shall we go?’

  The Bacon Lane Canal Bridge over Sheffield and Tinsley canal was a Grade II listed building. Claudia hadn’t realised a bridge could be listed until one of the crime scene techs had advised her on her arrival.

  She knew he’d informed her so she’d be aware no damage should be committed against the bridge, but all she cared about was the man attached to it. It was his life that had been ruthlessly taken, long before he was ready. A bridge was of no concern to her. Though that little niggle of needing to follow the rules played on a loop in her mind as she approached.

  The scene was exactly as the image had depicted. It was no surprise, considering the accuracy of the last drawing with Oliver on the bed. The only difference was the body was no longer hanging from the bridge as it had been depicted in the drawing. Emergency services had pulled him down to check for signs of life. Life trumped crime scene in every single case. And unfortunately, in this case, the male in question had been found to be life extinct when he’d been examined. He’d been strung up too long.

  ‘This is the reason we couldn’t find the bridge. There are just so many that look like this. He knew what he was doing.’

  The sun glistened off the canal water as it glided gently under the small footbridge. A beautiful day, if not for the body lying on the footpath. Nadira bent over him, working. Crime scene investigators in their high-vis white Tyvek suits scurried over the scene, brightly lit by the sunlight bearing down on them.

  Claudia and Russ walked steadily up to the tape cordoning the vicinity. A uniformed officer was taking details of everyone who entered and exited, and preventing unwarranted entry.

  ‘Who found him?’ asked Claudia.

  The uniform pointed down the track some way, where a huddle of officers stood. Between them was a slim figure.

  ‘What’s he say?’ Russ asked.

  ‘That he was out running before work when he found him. Apparently this is his regular route.’

  ‘Easy for someone to know there are regular runners on this path,’ Claudia murmured.

  And it was
at that point more blue lights joined the party and an ambulance pulled up further down on the road. ‘That’ll be for the witness, I take it?’ said Claudia.

  ‘We decided we should check him over before we subjected him to anything else. He’s pretty shaken up.’

  They were good guys, thought Claudia. All she wanted was the evidence. She was desperate to get her hands on this killer, and here was a shift of uniforms who were taking care of their witness. She was glad of the fact. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  He grinned at her and allowed her entry.

  ‘We’ll get to him shortly,’ said Russ, understanding how she was feeling. ‘First step is our victim.’

  Claudia turned to the uniformed officer. ‘Once he’s been checked out and cleared that he’s okay, can someone take the witness to the station, please, so we can get a statement from him? We need to get it all organised today. No letting him run off home.’

  The cop nodded. ‘Consider it done.’

  She thanked him. ‘Russ, can you call one of the team and get them prepared, please?’

  They walked towards Nadira and the body. Russ made the call.

  Nadira turned as their heavy footsteps thudded on the dried soil pathway behind her. ‘Sorry to see you here today.’

  Claudia looked down at the body. She didn’t want to address their failure again. ‘Any identification?’

  ‘The CSI has dealt with his clothing on the footpath, you’ll have to ask them if they recovered anything.’

  ‘How long has he been dead?’ There wasn’t much room here. The towpath was narrow and Nadira was crouched over the body and needed all the space to work. Claudia and Russ stood to the side and out of her way.

  Nadira let out a loud sigh.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Claudia apologised for the question. Her anguish at his death was making her pushy.

  ‘I wouldn’t say it’s been very long, but I can’t be precise.’ Nadira sighed again. ‘Look, I know you tried to stop this one. I’m sorry you couldn’t get here in time.’ She twisted so she could look up at them. ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. He was always going to be one step ahead of you. This is his game. And when someone else is making the rules, you’re never going to beat them.’

  Nadira was right. But it didn’t help the sinking rock that was dragging down Claudia’s insides.

  She turned her attention to the CSI who was conducting a forensic search of the man’s clothing to see if he could find any identification or other items that would be of interest to the investigation team. She saw the expensive trainers they’d identified prior to his murder. A much-loved item she imagined, at the cost of them. But she had to move on now and focus on the task at hand. ‘Is there any ID in there?’

  He peered up from below his Tyvek suit hood, which was pulled so far over his forehead it obscured the view above him. He twisted his neck at an unnatural angle to get a better look at who was talking to him. ‘I’m quite surprised to find a driving licence. Obviously the offender didn’t care if you ID’d the victim.’

  ‘The details are?’ Claudia snapped in her excitement. It was always the most important step — identifying the victim.

  The CSI flicked through images on his camera until he came to the one he wanted. ‘Brendan Carter.’

  She thanked him and asked him to email her a photograph of the driving licence as soon as he could, providing her details so he could do this.

  ‘What do you think he wants?’ asked Nadira from below them. ‘With the drawings and contacting you beforehand?’

  This, of course, wasn’t the first time she’d been asked this question, and it wouldn’t be the last time she didn’t have an answer. Claudia wished to hell she knew what the nutter wanted from them. But she was as lost as everyone else.

  She turned to Russ. ‘Now to dig into Brendan Carter and find out if anyone had anything against him. See if there was a reason for this or if he’s choosing his victims randomly. We must also inform his next of kin.’ A task she didn’t relish.

  Standing over the dead was an undertaking she had come to see as part of the job. Bereaved families were another issue altogether. Their grief didn’t stay within the family member’s neat little human cubicle. No, it infected everyone within reach. That meant the cops who were informing them of the death. When the grief was at the most raw. When disbelief and anger rampaged through the body and fought for dominance. And for all the emotion spilling about, they never taught you how to deal with it in police training. Just that it wasn’t your pain, and you had to remain professional.

  Easier said than done.

  Of course, it became something you schooled yourself in the more you did it. But you were one hardened son of a bitch if the heartbreak of another didn’t touch you at all.

  As Claudia looked down at the victim her heart ached for his family. His loved ones.

  She drew in a slow and steady breath and tried to control herself at the thought they’d failed to identify the location in time.

  Nadira had said he hadn’t been dead long. Professional guidelines dictated she couldn’t provide a time of death at the scene, but Claudia had to push her fists into her pockets to hide her emotions, her fury that they’d had a chance to stop this and they’d failed.

  She would find this guy and she would lock him up for the rest of his life.

  CHAPTER 29

  Brendan Carter had lived in a luxury apartment on St Paul’s Square. A concierge directed them to the floor they needed. The door was opened by a lovely-looking man in shorts, T-shirt and bare feet. Dressed for the warmth of the day. How Claudia wished she could dress for the heat rather than in the suit she was currently wrapped up in. Sweat ran down her back. There was nothing she could do to make herself more comfortable, so she did her best to ignore it.

  Claudia ascertained the man’s name. In front of them was Obasi Chuke. Brendan’s husband. Claudia introduced herself and Lisa and showed him their identification, asking for entry to his home.

  Fear flashed across Obasi’s face and he stepped back, providing access. Claudia and Lisa crossed the threshold. Claudia was pleased to note the inside of the home was cooler than the day outside. The floors were laid with wood and the walls plastered and painted cool shades. Large, colourful prints were hung artistically around and the windows were open, allowing the air, what air there was, to circulate through the apartment.

  Claudia had a moment to recognise that this was a warm, loving home, and a monster had ripped it from its moorings. She and Lisa were about to do that monster’s bidding by passing on the news to Obasi.

  When they were all seated in the living room, Obasi anxiously wrung his hands, waiting for the information that brought the officers to his door. Claudia informed him in as calm a way as she could of the terrible loss that would break his world apart.

  He crumbled and broke in front of them. His love for his husband clear and obvious. No words were possible through the tears. He tried for questions, but Claudia could see his throat was closing up as Obasi kept swallowing away the pain, but it just cut him off.

  They quietly waited as the tears subsided and his throat loosened on him. ‘What happened?’

  How to explain the horror of what had occurred to Brendan? It wasn’t the reason for these home visits. Attending to see loved ones was to relay the information of the death and to show there was a point of contact for the investigation. That there was a senior investigating officer in charge. That everything was under control. Causing pain and distress was not the intention, but honesty was important.

  ‘We don’t know exactly what happened,’ Claudia began. Which of course was true. ‘We’ll need to ask you some questions, learn as much as we can about Brendan from you, if you’ll allow?’

  Obasi nodded. His voice still strangled by the grief that was wrapped around his throat. He scrubbed at his face with his huge hands. Then his voice broke through again. ‘You say he was killed. How?’

  It was no good. They were going to have to
give him enough information that he felt involved. But all the details were not for sharing at this point. Not least because they weren’t aware of everything themselves anyway. It also felt wrong that he be told something so brutal. Wrong or not, Claudia gently informed him of the bridge. It would be reported on anyway.

  Obasi quietly sobbed into his hands. ‘What kind of monster is he?’

  ‘This is why we need to ask you some questions,’ said Claudia. ‘We need to know about Brendan’s life. Find something in there that could catch the attention of a killer this way.’

  Obasi stood, walked out of the room and returned with a handful of tissues scrunched up in his hand. He shook his head, continuing the conversation he’d just broken from. ‘We were photographers. We didn’t have a life that would antagonise anyone. We ran a business together.’

  ‘You were both photographers?’ asked Lisa.

  ‘Yes, quite successful. We have a small shop in the city. There’s me and Brendan and Sean, who handles reception, sales and accounts stuff.’

  ‘We’ll need to speak to him, if you can give us the address of the shop, we’ll pop by and see him tomorrow. That’s if you’re opening tomorrow. Or his home address if you’re going to close.’

  Obasi dictated the shop address and checked his phone for Sean’s personal details.

  ‘When did you last see Brendan?’

  Claudia could tell that the memory of having seen his husband for the very last time had shaken Obasi further as his lips parted and tears streamed down his face.

  ‘I’m sorry. We have to ask these questions.’ It was always difficult. They were not only here to break the news of a loved one’s death but to ask the most difficult questions to aid the investigation. It was never the best time to do it for the one left behind. All they wanted to do was grieve, to deal with their shock. But for the investigation it was vital and they couldn’t leave without asking the questions they needed to. Claudia softened her tone. ‘It’ll help narrow down a timeframe for his abduction and help us identify where he was taken from so we can target our search.’