The man was tall and lean, with a gaunt face, reddish fringe falling across his eyes. His shoulders appeared burdened as he led them inside. They were ushered into a large and pleasant living room, with high ceilings, a broken-colour finish on the walls, and carpet that seemed to swallow feet whole. A young girl sat on the soft pale-blue leather sofa, close to a woman who was obviously her mother. Frank recognised the uniform worn by the girl: a local private day-school. Frank and Nicky sat in armchairs, while Redbridge joined his family on the long sofa.
Nicky edged forward, took out his notebook and got things moving. ‘I believe you have some information for us, sir.’
Redbridge swallowed. He sat upright, fists clenched in his lap. ‘Yes. That’s right.’ He nodded vigorously.
‘Good. Will you tell me, in your own time, exactly what happened?’
‘It was a week ago tonight. My wife and I were woken by Karen, our daughter, screaming. She was standing at the foot of our bed, shaking as she screamed and wept, quite obviously terrified. It was a terrible sound, the like of which I never want to hear again. When we had calmed her down she told us that a man had been in her bedroom. A man she described as looking like a clown. He told her he had killed both of us, and that he would think about doing the same to her if she cried out. Evidently, he just stood there for a while, staring down at her. Then he just turned and walked out of the room. Karen gave it as long as she could bear, then came running into our room. I had a good look around, of course, but eventually we decided that it must have been a dream.’
‘Why was that, Mr Redbridge?’ Frank asked. While Simon Redbridge spoke, Frank had sneaked surreptitious glances at the man’s daughter. Her likeness to Laura was uncanny. There was no doubt in his mind that the man they were hunting had been inside this house. The question was, why had he left this family unharmed?
Redbridge turned to Frank, tensing slightly. ‘A few reasons really. First of all, apart from the fact that no one was in the house, I could find no sign of a forced entry or anything out of place or missing. Secondly, Karen had said that the man had our carving knife in his hand, but when we checked the knife was still in its rack. What with that and Laura describing him as looking like a clown, well, we just assumed …’
‘I probably would have come to the same conclusion.’
Redbridge smiled gratefully. The burden lessened somewhat, as Frank had intended it should.
‘Would it be possible to speak with your daughter directly, sir?’ Nicky asked, smiling at the girl. ‘I realise that having seen and read the news it must be disturbing for you to believe this man may have been inside your home. However, it could still be that you were right. It could have been a dream.’
The man looked to his daughter. His face softened. ‘How about it, sweetheart? Do you think you can answer a few questions? These men are here to help.’
Karen Redbridge nodded. Her face was tight, pensive. She sank further into her mother, who wrapped a protective arm around her. Frank smiled at the girl. Though the same age as Laura, she was a little taller, her body maturing faster as she continued her journey into womanhood. The girls shared the same hair colouring, almost the same flowing style. Karen Redbridge fitted the pattern exactly. So why was Laura taken and not this girl? There had to be a reason.
Frank was gentle with the girl. ‘Okay, Karen. We’ll take this nice and easy. Anytime you want to stop just say so. There’s no pressure. Now, there are one or two things we need to know. To begin with, your father says that you thought the man looked like a clown. Why was that?’
‘His face was just like a clown’s.’
‘You mean painted white, with a big red nose, black shapes around his eyes?’
Karen thought about this. Then she shook her head. ‘No, not quite. And now that I think about it, his expression was sad. I thought he was a clown, but …’ She turned her face toward her mother. ‘He looked like one of the masks on your wall, mum.’
Allison Redbridge nodded and smiled at Frank. ‘Theatrical masks. You know the kind, one happy, one sad.’
‘Right. So, not a clown then, Karen, but something like the sad mask.’
‘Yes. And he said he was the dark.’
‘He said he was the dark? Are you sure those were his exact words?’
‘Yes. He said I should fear the dark, because he was the dark.’
Frank smiled and nodded encouragement. The corpse they had left behind in a body bag only yesterday had once been soft and innocent like this young girl. A child blooming like a flower, ready to open and be appreciated by the world. Anger flared briefly in his thoughts, but he thrust it aside.
‘Okay. Good girl. You’re doing just fine. Anything else you can think of, Karen? Can you describe the man in any other way?’
Again, the girl looked at her mother, then her father. Her cheeks flushed. Simon Redbridge prompted her. ‘Go on, tell the man. It doesn’t matter what you say. It will all help.’
‘He didn’t have any clothes on.’
‘No clothes at all?’ This from Nicky.
‘No. Nothing.’
Frank moved forward in his seat. ‘Are you sure? What about his hands? Was he wearing gloves?’
Karen considered for a moment. Frank could almost hear her thoughts: the chill of his touch, not flesh against flesh. ‘Yes. I remember now. They were white, I think. Thin. Soft. Cotton, maybe.’
He nodded. ‘Okay. You’re doing a great job. This is all so much more than we could have expected. Now, is there anything else you can remember about him? Anything at all?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Well, was he tall? Fat, or thin?’ Frank didn’t bother to ask about the man’s colour. If he had been anything other than white, Karen would have mentioned it immediately.
‘He was kind of thin. Tall … maybe. I was lying down, he was standing over me. It was hard to tell’
‘And his hair. What colour was it?’
Her mouth formed into a large O. She sat up straight, became excited. ‘He didn’t have any hair. He was bald, completely bald.’
‘Good girl! That’s excellent.’ Frank decided to give her a break. Instead he turned to Nicky and said, ‘Do you want to check the back door with Mr Redbridge?’
Nicky nodded and stood. The two men left the room. When they were gone, Frank spoke to Allison Redbridge. The woman’s face was drawn, rings of recent neglect around her eyes. ‘I think you already knew this was no dream. I suppose you must be wondering why he left you alone.’
Frank noticed Karen trembling slightly, his words confirming her worst fears: that it had all really happened.
The woman nodded and shook her head in turns. ‘After reading about what this man did to that other family who lived nearby …’ Tears welled in her eyes. ‘I can’t believe how close we came.’
Frank made no mention of his personal involvement. It would serve no useful purpose. ‘To be perfectly honest with you, neither can I. You were either very lucky or he did this for a specific reason. To the best of our knowledge this is the first time he’s entered a home and left the family untouched. It may be a great help if we can work out why. Tell me, do you have a pet.’
‘No. Not now. Our cat, Timmy, died a while back.’
Karen’s head jerked up. The O was back in place. Frank got up and sat next to the girl. He took her hand in his, smiling at her. ‘What is it, Karen? What else have you remembered?’
‘He talked about Timmy. The man talked about Timmy.’
‘And what did he say? Can you remember?’
Karen bit her lower lip. ‘Not really. Something about … he said that Timmy not being around might have been lucky for me.’
Frank lowered his head until his eyes were on the same level as the girl’s. ‘Karen, this is very important. Did the man call your cat by his name? Did he actually call him Timmy?’
‘Yes.’ Definite. ‘I remember thinking it was strange, because Timmy had been dead for a while.’
F
rank again turned to Mrs Redbridge. ‘How long ago did Timmy die?’
‘About a month or so ago. Is it important?’
Just then, Nicky and Simon Redbridge came back into the room. ‘He took the lock apart,’ Nicky confirmed. ‘Clean as a whistle. Just like the others. The back door had been recently decorated. You can see where the lock was forced away from the sealed edge of paint.’ He held up a plastic freezer bag. ‘I got the knife for forensics to check over.’
Frank nodded and stood to let Redbridge take his place. He didn’t bother to sit back down. ‘We’ve really got something here. The man mentioned Karen’s cat by name. He knew it was called Timmy, but he didn’t know that the animal had died a few weeks before.’
Nicky peered shrewdly at Karen. ‘He actually said your cat’s name?’
Karen nodded. She melted back into her mother’s arms. Frank noticed this and immediately said, ‘I think we’ve gone through enough for one day. Thank you, Karen. You’ve been a big help to us. And thank you, Mr and Mrs Redbridge. This could be our biggest lead yet.’
‘Mister …’ The girl’s voice was weak.
‘Yes, Karen?’
‘The man. The man who said he was the dark. I thought …’ She bit her lip again, shaking her head.
‘Easy, Karen. We can leave it for another time if you like,’ Frank said. He tried to hide his eagerness. There was more to be gleaned from this girl, but he didn’t want her plagued by nightmares. The sooner she was allowed to forget her terrible ordeal, the better for her peace of mind.
‘It’s just … well … I thought he looked familiar.’
‘You mean you thought you recognised him? Like a neighbour, maybe.’
‘Not a neighbour. I know everyone around here. But I did think I’d seen him before.’
‘Around the street? In your home?’
She shook her head. ‘No. I can’t think where, I really can’t. But I’m sure I had seen him before that night.’
‘Okay. Well done, Karen. Listen, if it disturbs you to think about that night then you try your hardest to forget all about it from this point on. Sometimes that’s the best way of remembering something important. So, don’t think about where you saw him before. In fact, try not to think about him at all.’
Karen smiled and nodded. Redbridge showed Frank and Nicky out. ‘Have you had any tradesmen working here within the past two or three months?’ Frank asked. ‘Could that be who Karen recognised?’
Simon Redbridge shook his head confidently. ‘No. Thankfully, my brother can turn his hand to most things. Saves us a fortune.’
On the doorstep, Frank paused. ‘One last thing, Mr Redbridge. Did your cat have a name-tag, or a dish with his name on? Something the man could have seen inside the house before he went upstairs.’
‘No. He had nothing like that. Besides, all of Timmy’s things went to the RSPCA when he died. There’s no way he could have known.’
‘And yet he did.’
The man nodded. Fear cast a shadow across his face. ‘You don’t think he’ll be back, do you?’
Frank shook the man’s hand. ‘Don’t worry, sir. I don’t think that’s going to happen. But if you want to take a few precautions, put some dead-bolts on the door and security locks on all your windows.’
‘I’ve already arranged that. And thanks.’
‘No. Thank you for getting in touch.’
‘I’m only sorry it was too late for you and your family.’ Redbridge regarded Frank with true regret in his eyes. ‘I … I recognised you from the TV. It could have been us, couldn’t it? What happened to your family could have happened to us just as easily.’
Frank wet his lips and took a breath. ‘It could have. Yet it didn’t. You’re all here, all safe. This man briefly touched your lives, and now he’s gone. Let that be your comfort.’
‘I’m truly sorry for your loss. Sorrier still that we didn’t take Karen’s story more seriously.’
Frank shook his head. ‘You weren’t to know, Mr Redbridge. And even had you reported the incident, it would have altered nothing that followed. You’ve done fine. Just take care of your family now.’
Back in the car, Frank considered this fresh information in silence while Nicky drove. Nicky gave him the time he needed. When Frank did speak, he was all business-like once more. ‘I hope you don’t think I was out of order back there. I realise I kind of took things out of your hands. Old habits die hard, as they say.’
‘Hey, no problem.’ Nicky shook his head. ‘You’re still the guv’nor when it comes to seeing things no one else can see. You handled Karen brilliantly.’
‘Poor mite. I know kids grow up more quickly these days, but in my eyes, she is still a child. She’ll have nightmares now for sure. I feel guilty about that.’
‘If it saves the lives of others, Frank, then it has to be worth it. Just thank whatever god you pray to that Redbridge could be bothered.’
‘I don’t have a god.’
‘Oh, you know what I mean.’
‘Do you think she had seen him before?’
‘Could be. If he was checking the house out, she may have seen him hanging around.’
‘She said that wasn’t it.’
‘I know. But she’s been through an ordeal. Her nightmare turned out to be real after all. Imagine how that is affecting her sleep.’ Nicky jerked the wheel to the right just in time, as a bicycle came up on his nearside. He shook his head and glared at the cyclist as they drove past.
Frank let out a dispirited sigh. ‘How did he know the cat’s name, Nicky? Somehow, he found out. But he didn’t know it was dead. He must have been researching them at least a month before he went in there. But who told him the cat’s name? Who?’
No answer came. He’d expected none. Frank lapsed into another thoughtful silence, and Nicky drove on without a word. An earlier storm had long since passed over. The roads were sticky once more, hot tar pulling at tyres. The Mondeo’s air-conditioning was working overtime. Frank’s mind was on a continuous spiral, leading him time and again into dead ends. In silence, he asked himself the same questions over and over. By the time they pulled alongside his Renault, he still had no answers.
22
Within minutes of being left alone, Frank was restless once more. Nicky had a meeting to attend at the annexe, where he would update the team on what they had found out from the Redbridges. He would be gone for the remainder of the working day, and it was unlikely that there would be any news in the next few hours. Edgy and anxious, Frank made a call. Less than five minutes later he was out of the house and heading towards the coast.
An hour and fifteen minutes later he pulled into the drive of a beautiful detached red-brick bungalow that was set back off a quiet road in Canvey Island, Essex. Frank sat with the engine idling for a few minutes, uncertain now as to why he had come. Eventually he got out of the car, walked across to the front door and rang the brass bell.
‘Hello, Peter,’ he said, when the door was pulled open. ‘It’s been a long time.’
Once inside, seated in a large room long-since turned into an office, with a mug of steaming coffee by his side, Frank began to relax for the first time that day. The man he had come to see had retired from the force at the rank of chief inspector some five years previously. Peter Forsyth had been Frank’s mentor and good friend. Despite that, the two men had not spoken since Frank had quit the job.
‘It’s good to see you, Frank,’ Forsyth said, a gentle smile crinkling the flesh around his eyes. Now fifty-nine, he looked as fit as he had the day of his retirement party – a bash they still talked about in his old stamping-ground of Shoreditch. Grey hair was now almost white, but it was thick and there was still plenty of it. ‘I realise it’s in dreadful circumstances, but I hoped you’d contact me.’
Frank met the man’s even gaze. ‘Didn’t you think of calling me?’
‘Of course. And I would have, had you not come here. I was waiting for the right moment. Perhaps I misjudged when that would
be. The assessment of timing is always so much more accurate in retrospect, my friend.’ He frowned, tilted his head. ‘Why are you here, exactly? Why now?’
Frank sipped from his cup, the coffee strong and hot. ‘I was at a loose end, my mind getting bogged down. I needed some clarity. I thought of you.’
‘I’m only glad I was home when you called.’
‘I’d probably have driven out here, anyway. Blown away a few cobwebs. But you were home. You are.’
The older man nodded, eyes now hooded with sadness. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss, Frank. I understand you and Janet were no longer together, but you must be hurting, my friend.’
‘I am, Peter. If it weren’t for the fact that Laura is still alive, well …’ He let it hang there, the implication obvious.
‘How’s the investigation coming along? I’ve been following it in the media, wondering what’s happening behind the scenes. I was going to make a few calls, actually, but now you can bring me up to date.’
Frank told him about the killer making contact, the call from Simon Redbridge, his own official connection with the investigation, the re-opening of the annexe.
‘Why aren’t you there now?’ Forsyth asked, frowning.
‘Nicky thinks the less time Foster and I spend together the better. I have to agree. I’ll get involved when it suits me best, but Nicky will feed back the everyday items.’
‘I imagine that worm Foster will be beside himself with rage. He’ll hate having you breathing down his neck.’
‘Exactly. I’ll keep away when it’s not necessary for me to be there. Foster doesn’t worry me, but he can be such a vindictive little shit.’
Forsyth raised his eyebrows. ‘After what he did to you and not forgetting what you did to him in return, I think he’s afraid of you for more reasons than just your ability to crack this one before he does.’
Degrees of Darkness Page 12
