Dead to Me: A serial killer thriller (Detective Kate Matthews Crime Thriller Series Book 1)

by Stephen Edger

  How had he described her death? Drowned, probably held beneath the water judging by the markings around her neck.

  Kate rose from the bed and marched purposefully to the kitchen. She remembered how arrogant Underhill had been when he’d cajoled her into wagering he could close his case before her. This photograph could be the breakthrough he needed. She thought how easy it would be to lift the lid of the pedal bin, discard the evidence. She gripped the sides of the photograph. He’d have no way of knowing that she hadn’t shared it, that she knew more about his case than he did right now. But she couldn’t bring herself to deliberately slow down his investigation. Ultimately, whoever this woman was, she probably had friends and family who needed to know she’d passed away, that someone cared about finding her killer.

  Kate threw the photograph towards the countertop. She’d pass it on to Underhill in the morning. It caught a pocket of resistance, and slowly floated towards the ground, landing face down on the kitchen floor. She sighed in frustration, and stooped to pick it up, but then she saw the words scrawled on the back.

  DELIVER JUSTICE. I’M WATCHING YOU.

  28

  The large grey van parked across the street hadn’t moved since Kate had started watching it through her bedroom window, wondering how long it had been there. A day? A week?

  She didn’t know the names of many of her neighbours, and now she was racking her memory trying to remember if any of them owned a large grey van. She’d lowered the blind in the kitchen and made a point of checking the locks on the front door and windows. She’d also turned on the television in the living room, and switched on all the lights, before tentatively sneaking back to the bedroom. If he was out there, he’d think she was in the back room watching television, rather than staking out the van from her bedroom window.

  She’d phoned the only person she was prepared to trust: Patel.

  He’d told her he was out with his wife, but would call by on his way home. She’d told him not to bother and that she was probably just being paranoid. He’d suggested she call the station and request a unit to provide overnight protection, but she didn’t want anyone else knowing about the threat.

  She’d been in the bedroom for more than an hour, lifting the corner of the net curtain a fraction every couple of minutes. If someone was in the grey van, they hadn’t made any effort to leave. She went to the toilet and was checking on Chloe when she heard a knock on the door.

  She crept to the front door, the beat of her heart the only thing she could hear above the noise of the television. As she reached it, she called out. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘It’s Patel, ma’am.’

  She unlocked the door, but kept her foot behind it as she opened it a fraction and peered through the gap.

  He offered an empathetic smile. ‘Can I come in?’

  She swung the door open and pulled him in, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She’d never felt so relieved to see a familiar face. He tapped his hand against her back awkwardly, until she released him and led him to the lounge.

  She fixed him with an awkward stare. ‘How did you get through the communal entrance?’

  ‘One of your neighbours was heading out. Can I see the photograph?’

  She gestured towards the coffee table. ‘It’s over there.’

  He moved across and picked it up. ‘I see what you mean: it’s definitely the woman the guv has been searching for. He’ll be over the moon when you show him this.’

  ‘I can’t show him.’

  ‘Um, why not?’

  ‘Because he’ll want to know where I got it from, and why it says “DELIVER JUSTICE. I’M WATCHING YOU” on the back. How do I explain either?’

  He scratched his head. ‘You don’t have a choice, ma’am. Evidentially speaking, the image is worthless, but in terms of steering the investigation in the right direction, it’s priceless.’

  ‘I know. You’re right, but I can’t give it to him.’

  ‘What’s the alternative?’

  She buried her face in her hands. ‘I don’t know; maybe I could tell him I recognised her from the hospital, or maybe I could say there was a missing persons flier there or something.’

  ‘For starters, you can’t be certain which hospital she worked at, and secondly he’ll want to see a copy of the non-existent flier. No, ma’am, I’m sorry, but it’s time to tell the truth. For all you know, the person who left this is…’ His words trailed off.

  ‘Is who, Patel?’

  He closed his eyes in defeat. ‘I was going to say, he could be the same weirdo who’s been stalking you online, that’s all. Me and my big mouth.’

  ‘Do you really think it might be? Oh God, he’s been in my flat!’

  ‘Look at me, ma’am, it probably isn’t the same person. Forget I said that. The important thing is to make sure you feel safe in here. Maybe it would be an idea to get a hotel room for a couple of nights. Or have you got a friend you can go and stay with until this blows over or we catch whoever is doing this?’

  ‘I have my daughter staying with me for a few days.’

  He took a slight step back. ‘You have a daughter? I didn’t know that.’ He glanced around the room for a photograph of the girl he may have previously missed, but the walls were bare.

  ‘It’s only until her grandparents return from their cruise. She lives with her dad usually.’

  There was no missing the surprise in Patel’s face. ‘Oh.’

  She felt no need to explain the background of her separation to Patel, so she pressed on. ‘Have the Tech boys found anything useful from my laptop yet?’

  ‘I called my friend from that team on my way over. You know, the one who came and dealt with the junction box last night? He said they haven’t managed to find any trace of a virus on your laptop. A lot of the time, these things can have built-in self-destruct mechanisms. He described it as an ouroboros snake, you know, the ones that eat themselves? He said he’d checked the PWN switch as well, but they weren’t able to trace the signal back to its source. I’m sorry, ma’am, but whoever is antagonising you, they’re doing a good job of covering their tracks.’

  ‘Whoever he is, he knows that Saturday night’s murder victim was a nurse. By turn that could mean he’s the one who killed her.’

  ‘That’s a stretch, ma’am, and if he was, why leave the photograph here? Why give you a clue to help catch him?’

  ‘Because he’s taunting me.’

  ‘I think you should speak to the guv, ma’am. It’s his case, but maybe between the two of you, you can identify who this clown is.’

  ‘I told you: I don’t want anyone knowing about any of this. Okay?’

  ‘Ma’am, with respect, that’s ridiculous. You work in a profession created to deal with matters just like this. You have to let us help you.’

  ‘My gut is telling me that if I open this wider, he’ll simply disappear back into the shadows and we’ll never catch him. He chose to leave the photograph with me, so he clearly has a plan in mind.’

  ‘We have rules and procedures for a reason. In circumstances such as this where your life has been threatened, you need to report it to the supe. He needs to take you out of the firing line—’

  ‘I said no, Patel! I will handle this myself.’

  ‘Then with all due respect, ma’am, I don’t want anything else to do with this.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I know about what happened in London, and the real reason you transferred down here. It was taking risks like this that caused… that led to DC Spencer dying. I have a wife and children whom I love more than anything, and I’m not prepared to risk losing them or my job to save your pride.’

  ‘You know nothing about London.’

  ‘It was in all the papers, ma’am. It was your idea to put that inexperienced DC undercover; to use her as bait to try and catch that serial killer. It was a reckless move, ma’am. I’m sorry, but her blood is on your hands. You called me tonight because this freak got to you. You want
my advice? Call the supe and come clean. If you’re not prepared to do that then I’m sorry, but don’t call me again. You are withholding evidence in a major investigation, and I want no part of it.’

  Kate could feel her cheeks warming. She leaped from the chair, charged past him and opened her front door wide. ‘Fine. Get out of my flat.’

  He shook his head gently as he stepped through the door. ‘You’ll regret it if you don’t call the supe, ma’am.’

  She slammed the door. ‘Good night, Patel.’

  Kate returned to her bedroom, and lifted the net curtain so she could watch Patel drive away. The space where the grey van had been parked was now vacant. She drew the curtains and returned to the kitchen where she removed the bottle of vodka from the freezer and reached for the large kitchen knife. If he dared to come back, she’d be ready for him.

  29

  FRIDAY

  The bedroom door creaked open.

  Kate knew she couldn’t have been asleep for very long, as it had been after midnight before she’d given up waiting for the large grey van to return to the street and daylight was only just peeking through the gap in her curtains. Keeping one eye on the door, she reached silently for the knife.

  A small hand appeared at the edge of the door, followed by a small head.

  ‘Chloe,’ she half-choked, hiding the knife back beneath her pillow.

  Forcing her head from the pillow, she wiped the drool from her chin, feeling compelled to make herself look more presentable, but not entirely sure why.

  ‘Morning,’ she said, adding a smile. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  Chloe didn’t speak, but nodded, using the door as a shield.

  ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to be shy. Come in and sit on the bed.’

  Chloe gave her another timid glance, before pushing the door open further and coming in. She struggled to pull herself up onto the bed, a bear of some description in her other hand. She sat up, her legs dangling over the side of the bed, as if she was ready to bolt at the first sign of danger.

  Kate found it hard to believe how much she had grown in the months since she’d spent any real time with her. That had been right after things had gone pear-shaped in London. Rob sent the occasional photograph via email, but Kate had forced herself not to pay them much attention. It was easier that way. Even so, none of the photographs really showed just what a pretty girl she was becoming. Chloe’s thin, light-brown locks were in stark contrast to her own darker, thicker hair; Rob’s influence undoubtedly. But she definitely had Kate’s eyes, mouth and ears.

  She realised she hadn’t said anything in a couple of minutes, and tried to fight through the fog clouding her mind. She glanced over at the clock. It didn’t feel as if she’d had that much sleep. If anything, she would have bet she’d only closed her eyes an hour ago. The empty bottle of vodka next to her served as a stark reminder of the evening’s events.

  Her eyes widened as she remembered the grey van and, pushing the duvet away, she lunged towards the window. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or mindful if the van wasn’t there. On the one hand if it was there, it was more likely that it belonged to a neighbour, and she’d simply not registered it before. On the other hand, if it was there, that could also mean he was back.

  The space was empty.

  ‘I’m hungry,’ Chloe said from the bed.

  ‘You’re up early this morning. How are you feeling? Any more sickness?’

  Chloe shook her head. ‘What’s for breakfast?’

  ‘Let’s go and have a look, shall we?’

  Kate straightened the mirror on the wall as she passed, catching a glimpse of her ragged appearance. The bags beneath her eyes were definitely larger. Maybe a touch of concealer was required today.

  Chloe didn’t seem to mind and took Kate’s hand as they wandered towards the kitchen. Kate put the kettle on to boil and dropped a heaped teaspoon of coffee into her mug. Then she added an extra half a teaspoon for good measure.

  ‘I meant to buy you some breakfast cereal yesterday as well, but I forgot. I know it’s a bit boring, but is toast okay for this morning?’

  ‘I like toast.’

  ‘Good. Do you want jam again?’

  Chloe shrugged.

  Kate opened the cupboard and pulled out a jar of jam, before reaching for a different jar at the back of the cupboard. She unscrewed the lid and gave it a sniff. ‘I’d forgotten this was in here. Do you fancy chocolate spread on your toast instead? I don’t think it’s gone off.’

  ‘Daddy doesn’t let me have chocolate spread.’

  ‘Oh well, that’s probably because it’s a bit of a naughty treat, but as you’re on holiday with me, you deserve a naughty treat. Right?’

  Chloe put her thumb up in agreement.

  ‘Okay. Do me a favour. Go and put your clothes on, while I get this ready for you, and then we’re going to try and drive my car to the garage for a new tyre.’

  Chloe headed off to her room, as Kate raised the blind, and looked out of the window. Still no sign of the grey van.

  Chiding her own paranoia, she checked her phone to see if Patel had called, but there were no messages. He was right to challenge her decision not to pass the photograph of the nurse to Underhill. He was also right that she should come clean with the supe and tell him about the weird online stalker and the breakin at her flat, but if she did that, he would follow procedure and remove her from active duty to take her out of the firing line, and that would mean her struggle to successfully resolve an open investigation would need to continue.

  He’d got into her flat once, but that didn’t mean he’d try, or succeed, again. She could mitigate that risk by improving her own security. In between looking for the van during the night she’d searched the Internet on her phone for companies that could fit burglar alarm systems, and had requested a couple of quotes.

  The toast popped up, and it served as a welcome distraction to apply the chocolate spread. Kate carried the plate through and was surprised to find Chloe dressed and in the living room. Not only had she managed to turn on the television, she’d also found the cartoon channel. Kate handed her the plate, before returning to the kitchen. The thought of eating made her own stomach turn, so she drank her coffee instead.

  There was a chance that Patel would go behind her back and tell Underhill and the supe anyway, and she wouldn’t blame him if he did, but that would be a nail in the lid for their working relationship. Things had been tenuous since she’d joined the unit, and she couldn’t work with someone she couldn’t trust. Time would tell where his loyalties lay.

  The photograph was face down on the countertop where she’d left it after Patel had gone home.

  DELIVER JUSTICE. I’M WATCHING YOU.

  If the purpose of the message was to scare her then it had worked, but she knew she’d done the right thing in not reporting it. Deep down she knew Patel was just trying to look out for her, though she also knew how the rumour mill worked in the force.

  She needed to get into the office quickly, she decided, but wouldn’t be going anywhere until she got her tyre fixed. Locating the number of her breakdown company, she pressed dial.

  30

  ‘Laura, have you seen Patel this morning?’ Kate asked, as she entered the office and hung her jacket over her chair.

  ‘No, ma’am. I can check if you’d like—’

  ‘No, don’t worry about it. I’ll speak to him later. What are you up to?’

  ‘Trying to get hold of Eleanor Jacobs’s Chambers. Their website lists their address as Carlton Crescent, across the road from Southampton Crown Court, but nobody’s answering the phone. I thought I’d see if I can get an appointment to speak to some of her colleagues today, but, of course, it depends who’s in court.’

  ‘Good. Have we managed to find a home address for her yet? I’d like to take a look around, and try to get a better idea of who she was.’

  ‘I think Santiago might have done. Sorry, ma’am, I haven’t been into the
Incident Room yet to check for updates.’

  ‘No worries. Good luck with your call.’

  ‘Ma’am, are we ready to confirm her death?’

  ‘Not yet. We need to find a next of kin to make a formal identification first. If you do manage to get through to her office, make an appointment to see whoever’s in charge. We can break the news to him or her and then seek his or her help in arranging interviews with the rest of their team.’

  Kate headed into the room next door, and reviewed the notes she’d written on the board the night before. The air felt warm and stale as her team gathered around the board.

  A large woman squeezed herself out of a desk chair and approached her. ‘Ma’am? I’ve spoken to the pathologist’s office and they’re going to check whether the victim’s dental records match those on file for Eleanor Jacobs.’

  ‘Good. It’s DC Rogers, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Vicky.’

  ‘Thank you, Vicky.’

  ‘Oh, also, there is a Mrs Betty Jacobs listed as next of kin. She’s down as the victim’s mother, but the telephone number is out of date. I tried calling it, but the person who answered said she hadn’t lived there for more than five years. I asked if he knew where she’d moved to, but he said he didn’t know. He had a strong Scottish accent, and the area code is for Dumfries.’

  ‘That doesn’t surprise me. Eleanor wasn’t from around here; she spoke with an accent.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll see if I can find a new number or address for her mother and let you know when I do. The distance is going to make formal identification more complicated.’

  ‘The dental records should be enough. I’ve confirmed she is who we think, but I’ll see if I can find a hairbrush when I visit her home later so a DNA test can validate formal identification. There’s no need for Mrs Jacobs to travel all the way down here for ID purposes, unless she specifically wants to see her daughter. Make her aware of that, will you?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Also, find out as much information as you can. When did she last speak to her daughter? Was Eleanor worried about anything, or anyone? You know the kind of thing.’

  ‘Understood, ma’am.’