On his tour around the property for signs of life, Dominic decided the rear kitchen window was his way in. Screw procedure. Screw waiting for a warrant. It didn’t take long to obtain one through the day, but at this time of night they’d have to wake a judge up at home to get it signed. It was so much more time-consuming. Trying to find out which judge was on the rota for these kinds of calls. Locating his address. Getting there and back.
Dominic didn’t have the time.
Claudia didn’t have the time.
He’d pay for it later. It was something he was willing to do.
The window had been left open a little. Probably because of the weather they’d been having and the fact that it was at the rear of the property. The idiot didn’t think burglars came round the rear where it was quieter?
All he had to do was slide his hand in, unhook the latch and open it.
Dominic shook his head.
He’d have thought a killer would have been a little more security conscious. The guy was obviously too arrogant and didn’t think he needed to consider these things. Dominic just had to hope there was something inside worth breaking in for.
Once in the premises he lit the torch app on his phone and looked around. It was reasonably neat and tidy. What was he looking for, though? Plans? If he was drawing his murder scenes then maybe he was also writing down the rest of his plans. There had to be some kind of workspace.
A quick look downstairs told him there was nothing down here. Dominic moved swiftly up the stairs and checked behind each of the closed doors, being as gentle as he could in case there was actually someone sleeping who hadn’t heard him knocking. How he’d explain himself he didn’t know, but he’d deal with that when faced with it.
The first room was a bedroom. There was little in there. A bed, a set of drawers and a narrow wardrobe. It was definitely a male-only room. Bland. No sign of a feminine touch. The colours muted.
Dominic moved into the next room, which was the bathroom.
The next room was what he was searching for.
There was a desk with a laptop in one corner and a large artist’s pad in the centre. Different kinds of pencils, for shading, Dominic imagined, laid on top of the pad. A bookcase, and a printer on a small set of drawers. On the walls were two large pinboards, and this was what drew Dominic’s eye. Printed off and fixed to the pinboard were maps and locations, stuck with pins for the final detail.
Dominic searched the printouts. He found the one for the warehouse and the lad with the dagger in his back. Then the bridge that they’d struggled to identify.
His fingers walked along the papers, searching out the one piece of paper he was truly searching for. The one he had printed out for Claudia’s final resting place, as he would have assumed it to be. But in reality, now Dominic was here, it was going to be his own resting place if Dominic had anything to do with it.
Stress bunched at the base of his head as his eyes and his fingers moved between the printed maps. It had to be here.
Unless, of course, he had taken it with him.
But there were so many. This guy had plans. Dominic had to check them and cross them off when they didn’t match the drawing he had seen. When it wasn’t woodland.
Slow down, he told himself. The stress was preventing him from seeing what he needed.
He would be able to work faster if he actually slowed down and took a deep breath. The faster he worked, the quicker he would be out of here, before his team came in after him with the warrant. Breaking the door down. Not caring about making a noise or a fuss. They’d slam their way through the house and tear it apart, looking for signs of where Claudia would be.
And if he ever found the location, Dominic would leave it for them. They could follow him there. He wasn’t that stupid. It was possible he could need backup, and he wasn’t going to risk Claudia’s safety by being too proud and taking the evidence.
Then he found it. A map with a pin in a wooded area.
It was the ruins of the Lodge Moor prisoner of war camp. He did know it. On the drawing, what they’d all thought were fallen trees were in fact rectangles of cement. Yes, they were covered in moss, so easily confused for fallen trees. There was not much left of the camp, just the small cement walls and some basements.
Dominic took a couple of photographs of the map with his phone then left the property the way he had arrived.
It was still quiet outside. The rain was falling heavier.
Dominic didn’t wait around. He climbed in his car and headed towards the camp, not knowing what would be waiting for him.
CHAPTER 74
Claudia was getting soaked. She was cold. Deep into her bones, cold. Her shoulders ached and her head felt like she’d had a run-in with a lump hammer.
The last thing she remembered was running from the Artist after she’d climbed from the boot of his car. He’d grabbed her, and she’d struggled, but then it all went black.
She was alive still. There was that.
She supposed she should open her eyes and see what predicament she was in. As long as she had breath in her lungs, she would not give up the fight. And he hadn’t killed her yet.
Was he waiting for her to wake up? Should she sit here with her eyes closed for a little longer? Figure out what state she was in?
Her arms were fastened behind her now. He’d obviously figured out she had too much control with them in front. She was sitting upright, leaning back against something solid, like a wall. The ground was damp. It was raining heavily. They were in the woods. She could hear the rain as it hit the leaves on the trees. The soft pitter-patter above her in the tree canopy.
She wasn’t dressed for this weather, and she was shaking from the cold. It was wrapped around her and seeping up from the damp ground she was sitting on.
Claudia wiggled her fingers to see if there was room to get out of the bonds she found herself in. If he’d been in a hurry when applying them then maybe he hadn’t done a good job. But no, they were tight enough.
But as she moved her hand, her wrist caught on something metallic sticking out of the wall she was leaning against. It was narrow. Her fingers probed it. Feeling down the shaft of it, the ridges, the head of it, the lip. It was a screw.
She realised as she was feeling her way around the screw that her body would be moving slightly. He’d know she was awake. She’d have to open her eyes and confront what was happening. But fear kept them clamped shut.
As long as he wasn’t shouting at her, she was doing okay. Claudia listened for his activity. He was in front of her somewhere. There was shuffling in the mulch on the woodland floor.
Very gently, Claudia rubbed her ties against the screw. If she released her hands, she was in a better position to help herself.
‘I know you’re awake,’ he said. ‘I can see you fidgeting. You can open your eyes.’
Terror gripped Claudia hard. She continued to rub at the screw. Very gently to not cause too much movement with her body. But if she opened her eyes, would it all be over? He wasn’t going to stand out here all night with her.
‘Open your eyes!’ he shouted.
The sound, loud in the quiet of the woods, made Claudia jump and her eyes flew open.
Trees towered above her. She was leaning against a small wall of some description, water pooling in front of her. She was in some kind of rundown enclosure.
In front of her, the man they had been hunting and who had gone by the name the Artist was crouching with his phone, taking photographs of her. Keeping memories of his kills? Her team would be able to catch him and convict him with evidence like that. She was glad of that, at least. Even if the worst happened.
But she wasn’t going to be his next victim. The screw was working against her ties, breaking bits off, releasing her binds. Freedom was slowly coming her way. All she had to do was keep him talking. Prevent him sticking a blade in her chest.
He had an ominous smile on his face as he took his photos. He wasn’t holding a knife, so th
at was a good sign. She still had time. All she had to do was engage him in conversation.
All? What did you say to the man who was planning to kill you? While at the same time keeping him distracted from the fact you were sawing at the ties that bound you.
She recognised him. Sean. He was the guy from Brendan and Obasi’s photography shop. They’d talked to him. He’d seemed to know very little, when all along he’d used someone close to him as a victim.
‘My name’s Claudia,’ she said, for somewhere to start. Not knowing if he would remember her from their brief meeting.
He looked over his phone at her. ‘I know who you are.’
That had gone well.
‘Why are we here?’ Straight to the crux of the matter.
He took more photographs. ‘You’re my next exhibit.’
‘Exhibit?’
‘I’m an artist.’
Had he taken the media name to heart, or was he actually an artist? She had dismissed him simply as the receptionist when she spoke to him, as Obasi had called him. When all along he cried out to be something more. Maybe it was this desire to be more that had driven him to kill Brendan.
The ties behind her were slowly loosening. She had to keep sawing at them on the screw, being careful not to draw his attention to her movements. ‘I’ve seen your drawings. They’re very good. How long have you been drawing?’
He paused what he was doing and looked at her. ‘Drawing isn’t my real love. It’s something I can do on the side. My real love is modern art. Installations. Something that people can walk round and talk about. Something I can create that causes people to think.’
Claudia nodded, as if she understood what he’d been doing these past few weeks. Her concentration was on her wrists. There was little holding her in place now. The screw had gradually worn through the ties. A little more sawing and she’d be free.
‘I’m sure we can talk about this.’ She needed to connect with him and at the same time distract him. ‘We met at the photography shop, didn’t we?’
He stared at her.
The rain poured down on them. His hair slick on his head. He tilted his face sideways as he contemplated her.
She was free. The binds snapped apart. It took all her strength to keep her arms still and not break them out to the side of her in relief. Her shoulders ached so much. But she needed a plan. She had to decide what she would do next. Because her next steps would determine if she made it out of this or not.
‘Why me, Sean? Why am I here?’ Her mind whirred. Where was the knife? She had to keep him occupied while she studied her surroundings.
He twitched. As if she had asked him something deeply personal that no one should ever ask. That she should know better than to ask.
‘You ruined the last exhibit.’
She’d taken Zach to safety, but ultimately she hadn’t saved him. Sean had done what he’d needed to.
Sean’s distress with his recollection of the event rubbed up against her own. The loss of Zach. Her inability to prevent his death.
She had to do better this time.
‘I might have taken him away, but you still managed to get to him.’ She didn’t understand his logic. Why was he sending the drawings if not for them to try to save the victims before he killed them?
Claudia scanned the ground around Sean while they talked, looking for the blade from the drawing. She imagined he would keep it close, ready to use.
‘You interfered. And from there it all went wrong, they found him too early. The timing was out.’
Claudia thought she saw something to the side of him. Buried in the grass. She needed to get to it before he did. Or get to him before he could use it. Disable him. ‘Why send us the drawings if you didn’t want us to act on them?’
With the slightest of movements, she readied her body. Tried to prepare it to pounce from this uncomfortable position on the ground. She just needed to choose her moment.
He shook his head violently. ‘You’ve got it all wrong. It wasn’t for you to act on. The drawing was an invitation. To the exhibition. My installation. The papers had it right, I’m an artist. It’s my calling. I needed to find something that no one else had ever done. And what better than the human form?’ Sean was smiling. ‘But someone had to see it. It was no good creating it and leaving it alone where no one would find it and experience the wonder of what I’d created. So I had to send invitations. And you were the ideal person. I’d read about you in the paper. I knew your name. You seemed nice. Leaving my exhibits in your hands was the perfect way to go. You were supposed to share the invitations with the world, to tell people about the exhibit.’
The rain was torrential now. The darkness all-encompassing. Sean was a mere outline. His features lit up in the glow from the phone in front of his face. The blade she’d spotted, a faint indentation in the ground. If she was wrong, she was risking her life. If he had it on him, maybe in a back pocket, her life would be over. But if she did nothing, her life was over anyway.
Sean lowered his phone. He was finished with the photography it seemed. This was her moment. She had to act. If Sean put his phone away his next step would probably be to pick up the knife. Claudia had to stop him.
The adrenalin surged through her body. Claudia tensed her muscles. She needed all the power inside herself, and with everything she had she launched herself up and forward.
CHAPTER 75
Dominic pulled up at the lay-by with speed, angling Claudia’s car in and screeching to a halt behind the vehicle that the team had identified was registered to Sean Marlin.
He climbed out of the car into the pouring rain and listened for any sound that would tell him which direction his daughter and the man who had her had travelled in. But all he could hear was the water as it hit the ground and fell through the trees at the side of him.
Dominic opened the boot, lifted the bottom shelf and located the wrench. He picked it out and closed the lid.
He was close now and needed the team as backup. There was no time to wait for them to search the house and identify this as the location Claudia was at. He dialled Sharpe. She picked up immediately.
‘Where the hell are you?’
He told her.
‘What’s there?’
‘Claudia.’
‘We’re on our way.’
He thanked her, and before he hung up she spoke again. ‘Dominic?’
He didn’t have time for this. ‘What is it?’
‘Don’t do anything stupid, but make sure you save our girl.’
With that, he ended the call. Dominic didn’t need telling to save Claudia. Nothing was going to stop him.
Dominic didn’t have a torch, save for the one that came with his phone, but it would do no good to go into the woods with it lit up. It would alert Sean Marlin to the fact he was on his way. With the night fallen and the added tree cover it was going to be difficult to see his way around in the woods, but his daughter was in there, so he was heading in.
The wrench was cold and heavy in his hand as he stumbled over tree roots and tried to keep his balance. Rain water ran down the neck of his jumper, washing down his face and blurring his vision.
He had no idea of the direction to take, but continued to push himself deeper into the wooded area.
Panic cleaved him in half as he thought of his daughter with the blade in her chest as the darkness surrounded him and he struggled find her. He knew Marlin had taken her to the POW camp, but Dominic had never been himself. He didn’t know the directions. It might have been easy to find in the day, but in the night, with the rain pouring in your face, it was an impossible task.
He continued to stumble forward. Then a high-pitched scream pierced the air. Like a wild animal who had been caught in a trap — or stabbed in her chest.
Dominic picked up the direction of the sound, lifted the wrench to shoulder height ready to use and ran through the trees, terror hitching his every breath.
CHAPTER 76
As she�
�d pushed off from her position on the floor, up towards Sean, something animalistic escaped from Claudia’s lungs. A primal rage and power combined. Her wide-open mouth shrieking in his face as she grabbed his shoulders and took him down with the weight of her body.
The shock of her sudden movement sent the phone flying from his hand to the sodden ground, and the pair tumbled after it. Sean released a grunt of air as he landed on his back and Claudia flew on top of him. Her knees pushed into his chest. Her hands clawed into fists and pummelled at his face.
She had to take his capacity to control away from him. Stop him from reaching out for the knife.
It was slippery on the woodland floor and Sean attempted to slide out from under her, using his forearms to push her off. But she was furious and determined. This was her life she was fighting for. She only had one chance to get this right, to defend herself from certain death.
His face turned to the side. His arm started to snake out from under her. Was he reaching for the knife?
She had to stop him.
Her punches were not enough.
Claudia tried to grab his arm, but she couldn’t keep hold. His fingers reached forward. Something shifted under his hand. He nearly had it.
They both twisted their bodies in the direction of the knife.
The fight was on.
The rain continued to pour down on them. Thunder clapped and the sky above the tree tops lit up for a moment. The knife was clear to see as the blade glinted for a second.
In the distance Claudia heard what sounded like a shout. But they were both grunting heavily in the battle to retrieve the knife.
Claudia tried to crawl up Sean’s body and his right arm, but he was stronger than he looked. She’d had the element of surprise, but now he was fighting to win and he was in this as deep as she was.
She used her knees as weapons as she clawed for the knife. Digging them into his body, sticking her boots in. Then his hand wrapped around the handle.
Time froze. It was as though the pair of them had made a silent pact that this deserved to be savoured. They were in a bubble. The breath stopped in her chest. The rain was no more. Nothing else existed. There was only Sean and Claudia, wrapped in an embrace on the woodland floor.
SECONDS TO DIE a totally gripping serial killer thriller with a twist (Detective Claudia Nunn Book 2) Page 27
