Love You to Death: An Absolutely Gripping Thriller with a Killer Twist

by Caroline Mitchell

  The faces of the dead stared from the whiteboard: Harry Edmonds, his nose crushed from the unprotected fall; Emily Edmonds, her expression locked in terror – mouth torn from being force-fed the baubles now exhibited in a glass jar; and Charlotte Lockwood: her crime-scene picture made the grimmest viewing of all. Above the picture of the blood-splattered pavement was a blown-up passport photo. Pale and unsmiling, the bags under her eyes suggested sleep was a luxury she had seen little of. Ruby glanced at Monica last. She could not help but feel she had let the woman down. Despite the warnings on TV and appeals to the public this intelligent career-driven woman had opened her door to a complete stranger. Ruby had thought about what she would have done without the benefit of hindsight. It was always the same conclusion. If she had received such a visitor claiming to be her daughter, she would have invited her in too.

  ‘Right,’ DI Downes said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Are we starting or what?’

  They were back in hell; Ruby’s least favourite place. At least today she had remembered to leave the briefing room door ajar before their meeting. And morning briefing was preferential to evening when the lingering heat drew out the sweaty odour and magnified it tenfold. In the absence of Worrow, Downes took the lead. Unbuttoning his shirt sleeves he rolled them up his forearms. Given the way his tie was swinging loosely around his neck it was only a matter of time before that came off too.

  ‘Go ahead, boss,’ Ruby said, carrying out a quick headcount. ‘We’re all here.’

  It took only minutes for the team to be brought up to speed because, despite the overwhelming number of enquiries taking place, they were yet to turn up any solid leads. The television appeal had brought in hundreds of calls and valuable police hours were spent chasing up dead ends. The frustration was evident on Downes’s face as he spoke. He moved his hand to the picture of Emily’s address on the whiteboard and prodded at the image of her front door.

  ‘Why here?’ Downes said, casting his eyes around the room. He reached to the picture of Monica’s home, pressing his finger to the door. ‘And here. Out of all the homes in London, why did our suspect come knocking on these doors? These are the questions we need to be asking if we’ve any hope of solving this case. Were the baubles found in Emily’s stomach Christmas decorations, or were they used for another reason? And why were Emily’s and Monica’s bodies staged, but not the others’? Luddy, how did you get on tracking down the origin of their clothes?’

  ‘The nightgown was the most distinctive piece of clothing. It was from The White Company. They’re online as well as being dotted all around the UK. We haven’t been able to narrow it down any more than that. We’ve spoken to friends, family, colleagues; they all say the same thing: that both Emily and Monica seemed relatively happy with their partners. Both husbands had clean records. But that’s where the similarities end. Friends say that Emily was timid and barely left the house, while Monica was career-driven and outgoing and hardly ever in.’

  ‘And what about Charlotte? Anything new?’

  ‘Crimestoppers have come through with calls to say a man was seen in the area prior to the attack. But there’s no description other than someone walking down the street in a hoodie.’

  ‘Which could just as easily be a woman in disguise. Yes, I saw that,’ Downes interrupted.

  Ruby interjected, shifting the attention from Luddy, who was sweating from more than the humidity in the room. It was clear that the pressure of holding back their visit to Goldie was getting to him, and Ruby felt guilty for bringing him along. ‘We’ve had a vast number of calls reporting neighbours acting suspiciously, noises in the night, strange comings and goings. We’re still going through them.’ She fanned her face with her paperwork. ‘We’re also trawling through the nearest CCTV leading to and from the address. Vehicles are being checked against ANPR, and we’re liaising with other forces for similar incident reports. Our prolific offenders are being monitored and spoken to. We’ve checked the history of Emily’s home address, as well as her neighbours and anything else that could lead to it being a case of mistaken identity.’

  ‘It’s too much of a coincidence that Emily and Monica gave up children for adoption. No leads on their real daughters? Any relatives with some warped sense of revenge?’

  ‘No, boss. Emily’s daughter, as you know, has since passed on. She was an only child, a high achiever who was popular in school,’ Luddy said. ‘We’ve spoken to her friends; none of them stand out as being capable of murder.’

  ‘And Monica’s daughter?’

  ‘We found out today that she’s a travel rep in Greece. She’s had no contact with her mother.’

  ‘Crack on with your enquiries in local care homes. I want you to speak to anyone you can find who worked there ten, twenty years ago. Find out if any of the children had an obsession with death and Victorian traditions, or if anything significant took place around Christmas Day. We can’t leave any stone unturned.’

  ‘I’ve also had some possible evidence turn up on my desk in the form of two letters. They’re currently with Bones… I mean, Crime Scene Investigators,’ Ruby corrected herself. ‘It may be a hoax, but they were addressed directly to me.’

  ‘Letters? Why wasn’t this brought to my attention?’ Downes said, looking harried. He despised being out of the loop when it came to briefing. His macho pride did not appreciate being shown up in front of his colleagues. Ruby felt a flush rise to her cheeks. Because of her visit to Oakwood she did not have time to inform him. ‘They’ve only just been discovered,’ she said, before describing the card. She hoped he wouldn’t ask about the postmark and the fact the first envelope was delivered days ago. Friend or no friend, he would chew the arse off her for that. Best to inform him in a less public setting. ‘The envelopes were black rimmed, and the letter inside was a kind of death announcement. It’s in line with the Victorian mourning tradition.’

  ‘So they’re some kind of death notice?’ Downes said, tugging at the knot on his tie. Ruby shoved on her glasses and peered at the list of traditions Eve had placed on the board. Information on death notices was listed near the top.

  ‘Yes,’ Ruby said. ‘The envelope was marked so back in the day; people knew it was a death announcement before they opened it. It gave them time to prepare themselves.’

  ‘And what’s the significance to our case? Have you worked that one out too?’

  Ruby glared down her glasses at Downes. It was a look telling him to back off. ‘I’ve been informed that the second card is exactly the same, apart from the name. Monica Sherwood.’

  Eve raised her hand. ‘But what about the other victims? Emily’s husband, Charlotte Lockwood? Why haven’t you received notifications for them?’

  ‘I think it’s because they’re bit players who interfered with Lucy’s plans. Which makes this killer even more dangerous, because they’ll kill anyone who gets in their way. Safety plans are in place for the victim’s family members, but it’s more likely the killer will move on to someone else, and this is why we need to warn such women before she strikes. Their whole family could be in danger.’

  Ruby sighed. She couldn’t sit on it any longer. ‘I’m currently researching an email address provided by an anonymous source. They said the owner was acting suspiciously, saying they were searching for her mother and had a score to settle. Luddy has located the IP address to an internet café, and we’ve got a vague description of the suspect which I’ve added to the briefing notes. I’ve put an intel report in.’

  ‘Good. Well, keep me updated. It may be more valuable than you think.’

  It was close enough to the truth. As much as Ruby wanted to catch the killer a small part of her was scared. Her emotions were tied up in knots as she worked with her team to hunt Lucy down. But it felt like she was in a room where the walls of her life were closing in. With her job pressuring her on one side and the Crosbys on the other, she was left in no doubt – no matter what she did this was not going to end well.

  CHAPTER FORT
Y-EIGHT

  ‘Out of all the places you could have asked to meet, why on earth did you pick here?’ Ruby said, glancing around the shelves of the local library.

  ‘Because we won’t bump into anyone from the nick,’ Downes replied, leading her to a table at the far corner of the room.

  It was a good choice. Ten minutes into lunch time and there were only a handful of people there. Ruby slid a book from a shelf as she soaked up the peaceful atmosphere: so unlike her office where she sweated over files, overtime sheets and fresh leads. They sat in a shaft of morning light which peeped through the blinds above. She could see herself coming somewhere like here, if only she had the time to read.

  Downes peered at the novel. ‘Wuthering Heights?’

  ‘Uh huh,’ Ruby said, flicking through the pages. ‘We’re in a library, aren’t we?’

  Downes gently closed the book and rested his hand on the cover. ‘I’m worried about you. I’ve just spoken to Bones. I know that letter’s been sitting in your tray for a few days.’

  ‘Any joy with forensics?’ Ruby asked, hoping to change the subject.

  Downes shook his head. ‘Not yet. Look, I’m willing to overlook the delay in finding the letter, but I’ve been hearing other things… your night vigil in the hospital being one of them.’

  Ruby’s fingers drummed the table for the want of a cigarette. It was the second time in as many days she had been pulled up by a superior officer, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she said, thinking it safer to deny all knowledge.

  Downes rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t give me that bollocks. I had a phone call from the matron. You stayed there overnight.’

  Ruby forgot how well Downes knew the staff from attending the hospital when his wife was ill.

  Downes sat back delivering a weighty gaze. His hair was tousled from running his fingers through it, his shirt creased. ‘I’m worried about your association with the Crosby family. You’re compromising your position in the police.’

  Ruby pursed her lips. ‘Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s raining. You want to know if I’m seeing him, don’t you?’

  Downes shot her a glare. ‘You’re in no position to be making jokes.’

  ‘I’m sorry, that was out of order,’ Ruby flushed. ‘But don’t you think we should be focusing our efforts on our serial killer instead of my personal life?’

  ‘I just don’t want you to be the next job I’m investigating,’ he said. ‘What’s going on with you, Ruby? If you’re in any kind of trouble then tell me now, and I’ll do my best to dig you out.’

  ‘I appreciate the offer, but there’s nothing to sort out. Now can we get out of here? I really need a drag on my vaporiser. Or are you going to tell me they’re bad for me too?’

  Jack slid his hands across the table, cupping them over Ruby’s. They were warm to the touch. Strong. His gravelly voice was laced with concern. ‘Just be careful, that’s all I’m saying. People are beginning to talk, and if you don’t have a legitimate purpose to be speaking with the Crosby family, then you should give them a wide berth.’

  Ruby snorted. ‘You were asking for inside info the other day. You can’t have it both ways.’ She tried to pull her hands away, but Downes was not letting go.

  ‘There’s a difference between making discreet enquiries and putting your job on the line.’

  The words stung, because Ruby knew he was speaking the truth. But she was far too guarded to allow him to tell her what to do. ‘Look, Nathan and I go back a long way, and as much as it pains me to say it I do care about him. But I would never put my job in jeopardy. We live in two separate worlds.’

  ‘C’mon Ruby,’ Downes said, with a hint of reproach. ‘You’re not kids playing with your Lego any more. Lenny Crosby is a vicious bastard and his brother isn’t far behind him. How do you think they’ve gained so much control? Do you know what happened to the last person who pissed off the Crosbys?’

  Ruby drew back from his gaze. She knew about Goldie, and there had been several more victims since then. But she had enough on her plate dealing with the murderer now labelled by the media as ‘the door-knocker killer’. She did not want to hear what Downes wanted to say, but he was not letting her go until he had said his piece.

  ‘Turns out that one of their own was a snout. Lenny and his brother went around there and nailed him to the door. I mean they actually nailed him – hands and feet. Crucified this poor guy and left him to bleed out. Is this the sort of associate you want while you’re in the police?’

  Ruby stared at the cover of the dog-eared book, her heart sinking.

  ‘You know what they did to the guy who testified against Lenny before he went to prison? Scooped his eyes out with a spoon.’

  She glanced around as a photocopier whirred in the background. Satisfied they were not being overheard, she turned back to her boss. ‘Is Nathan wanted for any of that stuff?’ Ruby asked. ‘Is he actually wanted by the police for any offences?

  ‘Of course not,’ Downes said, shaking his head. ‘He’s as slippery as Teflon. But I’m telling you now, keep as far away as you can from that lot.’

  ‘You don’t need to worry about me. Besides, Nathan distanced himself from that sort of violence a long time ago.’

  Downes snorted. ‘Take off the rose-tinted glasses and step into the real world. If you keep trying to merge the two, you’ll be up to your neck in it.’

  ‘I get the message,’ Ruby said, her heart heavy. ‘You’re right, Lenny is a psychopath, and I’m under no illusion as to what they do for a living. But there are rules. And they do instil order on the streets.’ She raised her hand as Downes opened his mouth to speak. ‘I’m not for a second condoning their behaviour.’ She rose from the table, her cheeks flushed. ‘I think it’s time we got back to work, don’t you?’

  Downes clamped a hand on her shoulder as he stood. ‘You’re a good copper Ruby, but you need to catch yourself on. There’s no happy ending with that lot.’

  As Ruby left the library his words rang in her ears.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Nathan stood firm, hands deep in pockets, his brow lined in a deep frown. ‘I’m sorry, Leona, but I want us to finish.’

  The smile slowly melted from Leona’s face. ‘Finish what?’

  Nathan cupped his hand over his eyebrows, briefly closing his eyes. He wanted this over with. He wanted her out. ‘This. Us. I’m sorry. But I don’t want to see you anymore.’ He realised how cruel the words sounded, but he could not find better ones. He had no point of reference, because in his world people were direct and to the point. But she was staring at him now; her eyes brimming with tears as she waited for an explanation. Nathan cleared his throat. ‘I need some space. I want to be on my own.’

  Leona stared, open-mouthed, her chin trembling as the words slowly rose from her throat. ‘I don’t understand. Is this some kind of joke?’ Then she nodded, quickly wiping away the tears that were beginning to form. ‘It is, isn’t it? It’s some weird joke. Is this how you do it in your family?’ She laughed, but it was a hollow sound, and Nathan knew she was fooling herself.

  ‘How we do what? he asked, wishing she’d just leave.

  ‘Propose, of course; that’s what you brought me here for, isn’t it?’

  Nathan pulled in a terse breath. Just what had Mum being saying to her? ‘I don’t know where you got that idea from, but it wasn’t from me. I’ve no intention of proposing to anyone. Right now I just want to be single.’

  Leona pulled a tissue from her clutch bag and began to dab the mascara-stained trails running down her cheeks. ‘No, that’s not true. Frances said that we were going to get married, that we could have kids of our own.’ Intermittent sobs bounced between her words.

  Nathan stepped back, distancing himself from the source of his irritation. His anger rose like hot steam searching for release. ‘You know what I’m sick of? Everyone telling me what to do. You, Lenny, Mum, all plotting what’s bes
t. I never made you any promises.’

  Leona opened her mouth to speak, and he raised his hand for silence.

  ‘I can see you’re not listening so I’ll make it really simple. We had a bit of fun together, but that’s as far as it goes. I think it’s about time you left.’

  ‘You bastard,’ Leona sniffed. ‘You just used me, just like all the others.’

  ‘Well, maybe if you didn’t make yourself so available there wouldn’t be such a long list. Now get out.’ He regretted the words as soon as he uttered them, but they had the desired effect. Most men would get a slap on the face for such a derogatory comment, but his reputation ensured he would remain untouched.

  Turning on her heel, Leona slammed the heavy oak door as she left. Nathan wished he could have handled it differently and had hoped they could have parted on better terms. But cruel words came easily, whereas heartfelt ones had to be dug around for in the darkness of his soul – in places only Ruby could reach. His family had been whispering promises that were not theirs to keep, all for their own selfish needs. He would deal with them later. He would send Leona some flowers, try to apologise for his unkind words. But now he needed to get his life back on track. Without his family’s interference.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Getting her hands on tranquillisers had not been as difficult as Lucy had thought it would be. You could buy anything on the dark web if you had enough money. It was the same place where people traded their services for money. Obtaining access to restricted records was one of the many services available if you were a trustworthy source of payment. The challenge was making sure it could not be traced back to you. But it was worth taking the chance for Anita. Lucy sat in front of her, having brought down a chair from the kitchen so they could spend time together. Not that Anita was aware, as she was gagged and bound in the chair, her blonde hair trailing down her face. Lucy stared, her head full of dreams for the future. She was smitten, and she could not bear to hurt the object of her affection.