by Tara Lyons
‘Or unsuspecting victims,’ Rocky added.
‘Exactly,’ Hamilton agreed. ‘I could be wrong, but I’m inclined to think our murderer wouldn’t order from the States. It could take weeks.’
‘If the killer did in fact lure Warren Speed to Ambleside, time could have been on their side. So, illegally buying the Botox online may have worked.’
Hamilton rubbed his thumb and forefinger back and forth across his lips, mulling everything over. ‘It’s Claire Newcomb I’m meeting shortly, so maybe she can help us identify exactly why Speed visited the Lakes. But I think we need to delve into his group of friends.’
‘There’s nothing pointing to them as being involved,’ Dixon argued.
‘No, but they’re all we have right now. If it leads to nothing else, it will discount them as suspects.’
‘What do you want us to do then, boss?’ Dixon asked.
Hamilton was pleased with her reaction to his challenge; he hadn’t agreed with her theory, but she’d taken it professionally. He was learning more about her, and his team in general. Due to the fact Rocky had covered for Fraser earlier that morning, he saw trust forming between them. He’d sussed there was more to what the recruit told him, but, for now, he played along.
‘Clarke and I will head out to Claire Newcomb’s home address in Hammersmith. Meanwhile, I want the three of you to gather every piece of information on the four friends, namely if any of them have links to the establishments where Botox is readily accessible. Have they ever worked in these places, do their families or partners? If we haven’t already, I want a list of subjects they studied at Brunel University. Plus, see if you can ascertain if they were involved in anything suspicious during their time there … apart from Donna Moran’s disappearance, of course. By the end of the day, I want a clear understanding in my mind if they’re suspects, or potential victims.’
Hamilton cruised along The Mall towards St. James’s Park, and smiled to himself as he thought of his daughter. Growing up, it had been one of Maggie’s favourite places to visit on the weekend. Together, they’d walk below the picturesque views of the Shard and the London Eye, standing tall above the glorious greenery and the park’s lake, with its two islands: West Island and Duck Island. Maggie had always made a bee-line for the latter island, prepared to spend hours watching the ducks, geese, and pelicans, and feeling a million miles away from the concrete city just yards behind them. As much as he’d enjoyed it, he never really appreciated the time he had with her, and that regret would haunt him forever. Now, he would watch significant events, such as the Virgin London Marathon and Trooping the Colour, take place in that very park and reminisce about his daughter.
Turning right onto Constitution Hill, the monumental Buckingham Palace completely dominated his view. With its gold tipped, iron gates, more windows than he could count, and the British flag flying high at the top of the building, it demanded the attention of passers-by. He wondered how it would feel to be royalty for a day. Not for the wealth and status, but for the protection those grounds offered. Situated in the middle of London, the Royal family may know of the harrowing tragedies and worldly disasters, but what about the crimes happening right outside their front door, Hamilton thought. The life-changing impact of a child missing, a friend murdered, or a mother raped.
‘Penny for them?’ Clarke dragged him away from his thoughts.
‘Ah, just the case.’
His partner groaned. ‘Yeah, it’s a frustrating one, boss. So, what do we know about this Claire Newcomb?’
‘Not much, at present,’ Hamilton said and continued to explain how he’d met Newcomb at the crime scene.
In his eyes, Claire was the main witness in the Speed case, and therefore, he couldn’t understand why Inspector Bennett and his team had no evidence log of questioning her. If they had at all.
Outside the apartment, Hamilton hammered on the door, while simultaneously pressing the bell marked 1B. His irritation grew as it became apparent there was no one home. He stood back and glanced up at the top window of the white stone detached building. Squinting in the sunlight, he couldn’t be sure if the curtain twitched, or if he’d imagined it. Suddenly, the front door flew open.
‘I’m Detective Inspector Hamilton, and this is Detective Sergeant Clarke of the Metropolitan Police,’ he said and stepped towards the balding man in his late forties. ‘I’m looking for Claire Newcomb.’
‘I’m Mr Nelson, Detective. I live in 1A, but I could hear all the banging on our communal front door.’
‘Sorry to have disturbed you, sir. When’s the last time you saw your neighbour?’
The man pushed his dark-rimmed glasses further up his nose and hummed. ‘A few days ago, I think. She said she was going away for the weekend, and I haven’t seen her since. Mind you, I’ve read the awful news in the papers about her boss. She must be distraught.’
‘What makes you say that?’ Clarke intervened.
Mr Nelson crossed his hands and arms in front of him, adopting the stance of an at-ease solider. ‘Well, wouldn’t you be, Sergeant?’
Hamilton cleared his throat. ‘Do you know where Miss Newcomb might have gone? If she has any family near-by, or friends, perhaps?’
Again, the man readjusted his glasses. ‘No, I’m sorry, I don’t know much about the girl. I mean, she’s friendly enough, but she’s always come across as a workaholic, not really one to stop for general chit-chat.’
Hamilton nodded, understanding the lack of interaction most neighbours indulged in these days. ‘Is that your blue Ford parked outside?’
‘Yes, it is. Claire drives a white Mini, if that’s why you’re asking.’
He grinned. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr Nelson, and sorry again for disturbing you. Here’s my card. Please do give me a call if Miss Newcomb comes home.’
Hamilton and Clarke turned away, but stopped when the man called out.
‘Is Claire in a lot of trouble?’
‘We don’t know if she’s in any trouble at all, Mr Nelson. But it is imperative we speak to her regarding her boss’s murder investigation.’
‘Of course. I’ll call you the moment she arrives,’ the man replied and shut the front door.
The pair walked out of the front garden and down the street to where Hamilton had parked the car. They both stopped, and Clarke leaned against the bonnet.
‘I thought you said you’d arranged for us to see this Newcomb woman, gov?’
‘I didn’t bloody well make it up,’ Hamilton replied sarcastically. ‘It’s pretty obvious she’s given me the run around.’
‘Stinks of guilt, that does.’
Hamilton frowned. ‘More lies, anyway. Let’s drive round to the local police station, see if the local PCs can at least keep an eye out for Newcomb’s car while they’re patrolling the area.’
‘I’ll call Fraser while we’re en route, and ask her to get the licence registration in advance.’
‘Great idea. Better if we can supply them with as much information as possible, if we’re asking for their assistance. Also, tell Fraser I want Newcomb added to the list of potential suspects, and we’ll need the woman’s full background checks done too.’
Hamilton thumped the steering wheel with the heel of his hand as he sat in the driver’s seat. The investigation had begun to slip through his fingers, and DCI Allen’s warning rung in his ears as loud as Big Ben’s hourly chimes. Too many crimes were committed in London on a daily basis. If he couldn’t obtain substantial evidence soon, his team would be forced to move onto another case.
16
Felicity drove away from Calvin’s estate, the group’s conversations replaying over and over again in her mind. They’d all finally agreed; their safest bet was to avoid the police and make an effort to find Donna themselves. Deciding their best course of action was to each take a few days’ annual leave from work, they’d divided the tasks between themselves. She would use her contacts in the press, those who worked closely with the missing persons depart
ment. As Holly worked from home, she vowed to research local homeless shelters and contact them with Donna’s details. Todd and Calvin promised to pair-up and visit associates they’d made during their university days. A long shot, they all concurred, especially with the years passed, but it was all they had.
Holly fiddled with the radio, flicking through stations faster than The Flash, and Felicity soon regretted offering her friend a lift home. But when Holly explained her car had broken down that morning, she hated the thought of her alone at night on public transport. She could sense Holly’s eyes continually peaking over in her direction, and could hear the occasional sharp intake of breath.
‘Spit it out, Hols.’
‘Well, are you going to tell me what happened between you and Todd?’
‘Nothing. What do you mean?’ Felicity replied abruptly.
Holly giggled. ‘Oh, come on, don’t mug me off. When I couldn’t find Calvin last night, I drove back round to your house. The bedroom light was on, but neither of you answered the door. And tonight …’ Holly blew a loud, sharp whistle. ‘The tension between the pair of you was bloody intense.’
Felicity rolled her eyes. She’d forgotten how much Holly could pick up on, even while looking uninterested. ‘He tried to kiss me … well, he did kiss me, kind of. Anyway, I told him to sling his hook.’
‘Ah ha,’ her friend said, with raised eyebrows. ‘I bet he didn’t like that.’
‘Well, no, I guess nobody would.’
‘Flick, this is Todd we’re talking about. He’s always loved you, don’t try and deny it. It must have squashed his heart when he found out about you and Warren getting engaged.’
She sighed. ‘Yeah, well … I never felt that way about him, and I always made it clear. Don’t go rubbing salt in old wounds now.’
Holly lifted her hands, posing surrender. ‘Hey, I’m saying nothing more on the subject.’
A bright light distracted Felicity. The oncoming car flashed its headlights before racing by, well over the speed limit. Momentarily blinded, she raised an arm to shield her vision. Holly angrily shouted a few obscenities, not that the driver could hear her, Felicity thought. As she turned the corner, driving through a residential neighbourhood, she watched the car perform a U-turn in the road and speed up behind them.
‘Fucking hell, Hols, the car’s coming back after us.’
‘Don’t be such a drama queen. It’s probably just kids messing around. Slow down and let the bastards drive on by.’
Felicity followed Holly’s instructions and assumed the car would overtake, but instead the silhouette behind the wheel shunted into the back of her car. She pressed hard on the accelerator, speeding down the quiet road; her white knuckles gripped the steering wheel. The dark vehicle behind them mirrored her speed until they were bumper to bumper.
Holly twisted around in her seat. ‘I can’t see who it is, or how many are in the car, it’s too dark.’
Her friend’s shaky voice reflected the fear which now grabbed tight on to her chest. As she reached forty miles per hour, Felicity’s eyes darted from left to right, desperate for an annoyed home owner to come out. But as they continued to drive, they reached the last house, and either side of their view was replaced by greenery and trees. The full moon shone onto an opening in the road; she could continue straight or turn around at the island and double back on herself. Holly’s yells filled the car now, but Felicity couldn’t make sense of what she said.
The attacking car jerked into Felicity once again, thrusting her further down the road. Guided by the light of the moon, she braked hard and spun right around the island. Attempting to stay on the road, she lost control of the car and smashed into the large trunk of an oak tree. She whirled around just in time to see the mysterious vehicle continue straight.
‘What the fuck!’ Holly yelled.
‘Get out of the car.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Let’s say my parking isn’t what it used to be. I’m pretty sure nose-diving into a tree isn’t the way it works, Hols.’ She twisted the key in the ignition to be met with a low rumbling from the engine; the car well and truly asleep. ‘We ain’t going anywhere in this thing anyway, and what if that maniac returns?’
The sound of a perfectly working engine could be heard revving in the distance. Felicity grabbed the keys from the ignition and screamed at Holly again. She clicked the lock button while she ran away from the car and down the road.
‘Wait for me,’ Holly panted. ‘This body wasn’t built to run. My chest feels like it’s on fire.’
‘Someone is chasing us. We just need to get to the last house we passed. It can’t be too far,’ she yelled over her shoulder.
A piercing scream filled the silent street, and Felicity froze. The blackness of the night blinded her, offering only a limited vision as she slowly turned around to face her friend. Holly lay on the floor, screeching, the pain evident on her pale face.
Felicity rushed back to her. ‘What happened?’
‘I tripped. My ankle is busted.’ Holly pulled herself up, yelping the entire time, and leaned back onto the iron fence separating the park from the road.
The roar of the car engine moved closer. The dimness of the headlights came into view. Felicity held her breath, as the black vehicle glided towards them and then screeched away again. Its two red backlights glowered out of the darkness like the devil disappearing into hell. She exhaled.
‘They’re just fucking with us, Flick,’ Holly stuttered. ‘I told you. It’s just kids messing around.’
Unconvinced, Felicity glanced up and down, the hotness in her chest taking over. ‘Okay, have you got your mobile?’
‘Yes.’
‘I left mine in my handbag in the car. Do you think you could hobble back?’
‘To the car?’
‘Yes!’ Felicity snapped, peering back to her dented car.
‘Oh, Flick, I don’t know.’
‘Holly, stop being an idiot. This is deadly serious. When will you realise that?’ Holly’s discomfort was clear, and Felicity almost felt sorry for shouting. But as the grumble of the car returned, she realised they were in no position to take any chances. She grabbed her friend’s hand. ‘Listen, take the keys and hop like mad back to the car. Lock yourself in, and call the police immediately. We’re not far from Calvin’s place, a few miles, if that.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m going to carry on back to the houses. Someone has to answer the door. From there, I can ring 999 and get the location from the home owner. With everything that’s happened, we can’t be too cautious.’ Felicity’s voice didn’t waver, despite her legs feeling as unsteady as a new born deer.
Holly finally agreed, and she helped guide her friend away from the fence. Holly stood unaided, one foot taking all her weight, the other foot hanging awkwardly inches in the air. Felicity pressed the keys into her hand, and before the tears in Holly’s eyes could stop her, she turned and raced away.
Felicity shrieked as the iconic Scream face came into full view. She immediately recognised the person behind the mask had to be someone who knew her well. Only those close to her understood the terror that gripped her when confronted with the white, elongated ghost face and the black emptiness of a mouth and eyes.
She remembered one Halloween party, and the Brunel campus rife with students dressed in the iconic attire. The black material flew in the wind as the wearer wildly ran from student union to halls of residence, wielding a fake knife. Most onlookers had screeched and yelped, but laughed and encouraged the behaviour all the same. Felicity froze, the fear paralysed her to the spot. She’d thrown up the first time she’d watched the movie, and since then, never again watched a horror film. The thought of not knowing who, or what, was behind the cloak of darkness made her stomach turn.
Now, the panic rose in her chest and lodged in her throat. She could barely breathe. Her shouts for help were mere croaks. The wearer of the mask smiled underneath, of that she was certain
; no one dressed in a disguise made of pure evil without gaining pleasure for themselves. The urine leaked through her underwear and trickled down her thigh. It was only then she noticed the ropes strapped to her wrists and ankles, firmly securing her to a wooden table.
The coldness whipped around, while the stinking damp travelled up her nostrils. She strained to take in the surroundings. Dim, but just enough light shone from behind her to illuminate the tall figure lingering over her. The dirty, small windows and low, wooden beams revealed she must be trapped in some kind of shed, or outhouse. The tears gushed silently as she gasped for air.
The costumed figure stepped forward. Gloved hands peeked out of the black robes and picked up various instruments from the metal stand next to Felicity. The ghost face tilted slowly from one side to the other, examining the different tools on offer.
‘Why are you doing this?’ Felicity whispered. ‘Donna, I know it’s you … it is, isn’t it? I’ll understand, I’m sure I can help you … but let’s talk about this first.’
Ghost face laid down the instruments and bent over Felicity. She closed her eyes, willing her captor away. Warm breath escaped the mesh mask and flooded her face. She whimpered.
‘Please, Donna, just tell me what you want. You don’t have to hurt me.’
‘I want answers!’ yelled a distorted voice.
Felicity clamped her eyes shut further, realising ghost face had the same voice changer the killer used in the film. Her nightmare had come alive.
‘I … I don’t understand,’ she stuttered. ‘Why? And … What about Holly? Did you …’
‘That bitch has been taken care of, don’t worry.’
The sobs caught in Felicity’s throat. A long, rumbling sigh travelled through the device and out of the mask, before her abductor stood and grabbed her left hand.
‘Journalists need their fingers, don’t they?’ Ghost Face sneered. ‘How about I cut one off every time you don’t answer a question?’ The tears continued to flow while Felicity’s hand was squashed together with such force, she thought the bones inside would break. ‘You must hear so many different stories and gossip … trying to make yourself famous by other people’s misfortune.’
