She scrolled through lists of young offenders units, then secure mental hospitals.
‘Why is this guy on the streets?’ she said.
Shirley went to feedback to the Chief. She knocked on the glass door. She could see he had his head in his hands.
‘Alright?’ she asked.
‘Not really,’ he said. ‘We’ve just had radioed through more details about the missing elderly woman.’
‘OK,’ said Shirley.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She went out in Peckham in her electric wheelchair. She didn’t come home.’
‘Where in Peckham?’
‘The thing is, she went to Rye Lane.’
The Chief looked at his hands.
‘You mean near where we found the white van,’ she said.
‘Between me and you, sergeant, I’ve made a big boo boo.’
‘No one on the car park?’ she said.
‘Nope. We took the van, we left, I mean, we don’t know for sure that he parked in the same car park but we do know she went shopping just next door.’
‘Can we get CCTV?’
‘It should be through in a bit.’
‘Chief, I know this man. I’ve seen him in the flesh, I’ve seen him on the cameras. Please. Can I look at the CCTV?’
‘How did your research go?’
‘I’m so sure sir. I’m so sure I’ve found him.’
‘Details?’
‘Richard Henders. Violent schizophrenic. On the run from us for not turning up to parole. On parole for mugging an elderly lady.’
‘Motive?’
‘I don’t know sir. He is apparently seriously mentally ill.’
‘From the files, do you think he is keeping them alive?’
Shirley sighed.
‘He has been violent since the age of seven. He has assaulted anyone who crossed him. I don’t think he’d flinch at killing them.’
Shirley felt tears coming. She sniffed.
‘OK Sergeant,’ said the Chief. ‘You and Geoff can look at the CCTV.’
‘Thanks,’ she said.
When it came through, Shirley and Geoff set up a desk. It didn’t take long to find him.
‘Look at that man,’ said Shirley.
‘He’s a preacher, isn’t he?’
‘Preaching on the street. The audacity,’ she said. ‘Look, there’s a police officer, two yards away. He’s just standing there with his Bible.’
‘Are you sure it’s him?’
Shirley didn’t say anything. She was sure but there wasn’t a close up of his face. She scrolled ahead.
‘Here,’ she said. ‘Here’s a wheelchair coming.’
‘It’s electric,’ he said.
‘I’m pretty sure that’s her.’
Sure enough, when they scrolled ahead, she stopped and spoke to the preacher. They were there for some time.
‘I’m certain,’ said Shirley.
She fast forwarded and saw them go together down the street.
‘Shit,’ she said. ‘They’re going towards the car park.’
‘That car park is covered in CCTV. Now,’ said Geoff.
‘No manpower though,’ said Shirley.
They cut to the car park CCTV. Shirley watched as they went side by side.
‘She went willingly,’ said Geoff.
‘Up to here,’ said Shirley. ‘Now look.’
The camera showed the man take over the wheelchair control.
‘She tried to push him off,’ said Shirley.
They watched his hand smack her head.
‘Some preacher,’ said Geoff.
They watched as he used the wheelchair joystick to get her into the back of a car.
‘That’s a disabled car,’ said Shirley. ‘Look how easily he gets her in there.’
‘It’s adapted. Must be. That should make it easier to find,’ he said.
They took the registration and looked it up.
It was a hire car from a disability car company.
Shirley phoned them.
‘Yes it was returned today,’ said the receptionist. ‘Full tank, no marks, very nice young man. Said he was taking his grandmother out for the day.’
Shirley put the phone down. She moaned and hit her hand against her forehead.
‘Why is he going for frail old people?’ she said. ‘What do we do? Tell all people over the age of sixty-five to stay indoors?’
‘We might have to,’ said Geoff.
‘I feel very angry about this,’ said Shirley. ‘We should have him by now.’
‘It’s good he’s so audacious though. That will help,’ said Geoff.
‘Will you feedback?’ she said. ‘I need a coffee.’
Shirley walked out of the station. She went round to the greasy spoon. She opened the door, smelt the burgers and chips cooking.
‘Hello,’ said the cafe owner. ‘How’s my favourite lady?’
Shirley couldn’t do it.
‘Gotta go,’ she said.
She walked out. She had never been in without Dave. She imagined ordering coffee for one. It was too much. How could he be gone?
She walked further down the road. She went to a pricy cafe, one she never went to usually. She paid double for her coffee and sat on the high stool by the window. She looked out at the cloudy day. People walked past with their coats done up. She hadn’t even brought her coat out. Her phone rang as she swilled the coffee around the wide cup. She thought about ignoring it. Someone looked over. She caught their eye and looked down. Then she answered.
‘An elderly couple are missing,’ said Geoff.
‘A couple?’
‘The care home said they go out for a short walk every day. She is a wheelchair user. He is frail so can’t push her far. They have been gone two hours.’
‘Peckham?’
‘No. Further afield. Streatham this time.’
Shirley downed her coffee. She walked out of the cafe and in the opposite direction to the station.
Chapter 7
I’m well pleased with this. My new premises. It’s a small warehouse on the docks. It’s surrounded by other warehouses. I won’t need too much sound insulation. There’s a train line goes past and I can time the screams in with that. Ha. I run up and down it. There’s so much space. I could have so many dead bodies in here. All paid for with that last stupid old biddy’s credit card and a bit of cash to oil the deal. If they find out after a month or two, I’ll have to move on. Plenty of time to browse for the next place though. I might even move north next. Shitting old ones are everywhere.
I lock it up carefully. I head out to the shops. I’ve seen this pet shop where they sell cages for dogs. I get in my new van, head off to do some shopping.
‘I’ve got three rottweilers,’ I say to the woman in the shop.
‘How lovely,’ she says. ‘What are their names?’
‘They are all called David,’ I say. ‘My favourite name.’
‘OK,’ she says.
She sniffs. She doesn’t approve.
‘I love them very much. They aren’t a problem at all, no problems. I just need a cage for them. Just in case. Because my niece is coming and you do hear about them getting jealous don’t you. I don’t want her head bitten off in a jealous rage.’
‘Well, I hope you’ll keep them on a muzzle.’
‘Do you have a cage large enough?’
‘Well, yes, we do. They’re not cheap but we do need to make them big enough for them to have correct space. There’s guidelines.’
I get out my credit card.
‘Not a problem,’ I say.
Bitch thinks I’ve got no money. Even with my suit on. Cow.
I smile and say, ‘Can I take it today?’
‘Yes,’ she says.
She shows me the box. It comes flat packed. I pay her and carry the heavy thing out of the shop.
Good job I hired a good sized van. I fit it in nicely and head off.
I reach the warehouse. There’s no one around. I take
the wrapped cage and unlock the door to the warehouse.
The cage is easy to assemble but that worries me. I stand back and look. I don’t want any escaping. I might need more rope. I’ll get some on the way. I want my police officer to watch, from his cage. He’ll watch all the old ones die. He won’t be able to do anything at all. I shake the cage. It seems firm enough. I’m going to pick him up now, bring him to the warehouse. Then I’ll find my next shitting bastard to avenge mother.
I head out again. I’m going to leave the lock up behind. It’s served me well but it smells now. Next time I’ll dispose of the bodies. I’m not far from the river at the warehouse. Easily done. The ones that are there already. I’ll stick them in a wheelie bin and out for the bin men. I’m not going back to Norbury again.
The traffic ain’t too bad today. It’s a nice day, bit cloudy but no rain. People are out walking. I can see a few old ones here and there. They are all with younger ones though. I’d need to kill the younger ones too. Don’t want any martyrs. The young die good.
I’m thinking I’ll leave the policeman there for a bit. He’s gone crazy anyway, he’ll never escape. I’ll pack up my tools and take them to the warehouse.
Shit. There’s two of them! I can see this old woman in a wheelchair and she’s being pushed by a man who looks ninety at least. I think I might make a detour.
I shadow them in my van. I feel like a curb crawler. The woman sees me. She looks over. I see fear in her face. I stop the van. I get out.
‘Get away,’ says the man.
He knows I’m going to hurt him. He knows who I am.
‘I’m the notorious killer,’ I say. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
The woman screams.
I push the man to the ground. I take the wheelchair and push her out, into the van. She falls onto the floor where I’ve taken the seats out. The man tries to hit me. I grab his arms. I pull him round, spinning him in a circle. His arms feel like they might break. Then I throw him in on top of her. I shut the door. I run round to the driver’s seat and get in.
I can hear the man talking to his wife.
‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ he says.
‘No it’s not,’ I say. ‘You’re here for a reason. Now, so far, none of my oldies have admitted to their crime. That’s why they died. Are you going to admit it?’
I looked at the man’s pale face in the mirror. I could see he was thinking of escape. I should have tied him up. I haven’t got my rope. I spin the vehicle round and head back towards the warehouse. I want the policeman to see this. The lock up ain’t the best place. The warehouse has windows.
As I drive I keep an eye on the man. I can see him trying the doors, the windows. They’re all locked. I can see him looking for something to hurt me with. He’s taking something out of his pocket. A knife?
I stop the van.
‘What have you got?’ I ask.
‘Nothing,’ he says.
I climb into the back and search him. Nothing. I search the woman too. She has mints in her pocket. I take them and throw them out of the van.
‘Tell me what have I done?’ says the man.
‘You killed my mother,’ he says.
‘I didn’t,’ he says. ‘My wife and I were teachers. We taught children.’
‘Teachers! I hate teachers. That is why you have lived this long. I bet you told the government which parents to murder, which children’s lives to ruin.’
‘No,’ he says. ‘Did you lose your mother?’
‘Of course I did,’ I say.
‘I lost my mother when I was very young too,’ he says. ‘It’s very hard.’
I stop. This man is trying to reason with me. He is trying to talk me into letting him go. He was clearly a government worker. He was clearly a top dog at the scheme to kill mothers.
I climb back into the front. It’s bad he isn’t tied up. I’d better get to the warehouse fast.
At the warehouse, I leave them locked in the van while I sort things out. I’ve got no tools, no rope. They’ll have to go in the cage for now. I find some cloth. I tie the man’s hands behind his back and march him through the door into the cage. Then I get the woman. She’s the loud one so I wait until the train comes. While I’m waiting, I see a man walking. He’s walking his dog. I’d better wait.
He walks along. And the train goes past. It’s so noisy he won’t hear a thing. I get her out of the car. I hear the dog bark.
‘Make a noise and you’re dead right now and you won’t see your husband again.’
She gasps. She’s quiet.
I carry her in. She’s pretty much dead already by the looks of her. I hate touching her. I can see the varicose veins on her legs through her tights. Nasty.
I throw her in the cage. Her husband holds her tight.
‘I’m diabetic,’ says the man.
‘So,’ I say.
‘We both need our medication at 2pm. We’re due back at the care home. They’ll report us missing.’
I laugh at him. As if it matters. They won’t find me.
Then I leave them. Hope the rats eat them before I get back. I’ll bring the policeman. He can watch them die. I set off in my van. I wonder if I should return this to the rental place and get another. You never know. Better to be safe than sorry. I’ll do it after.
I drive to Norbury. I stop at the chippy.
‘Fish and two chips,’ I say.
I look up at the TV in the corner. There’s me. I can’t hear what they’re saying but it is definitely me in the photo. They’ve found me. I suppose that was going to happen anyway. A runner across the bottom of the screen says ‘Do not approach this man. Call the police.’ I’d best change my clothes, find a new face somehow. The man behind the counter looks from me to the screen to me again.
‘Looks like me,’ I say.
He looks at me cautiously.
‘If I wasn’t working those hours I bet the police would be asking me and everything.’
‘You’re a good customer,’ he says. ‘Always a pleasure to serve you. I can’t imagine you’d want to abduct old ladies.’
‘Imagine,’ I say. ‘It’s awful.’
‘The latest was in Streatham they say,’ he says. ‘Getting closer.’
Shit. The old couple. They’re reported already.
I think I manage to keep a straight face.
‘Hope my old granny is OK,’ I say.
He gives me my chips. I’d better get out of Norbury ASAP. I drive to the lock up. I reverse into the driveway for easy escape. Something seems different. I put my ear to the door. I can hear the policeman’s voice. What’s he saying? I can’t hear but it seems close.
Ah, he’s probably just talking to his imaginary friend again. I wonder if he’ll take him along to the warehouse too. I unlock the door. I pull up the shutter.
Chapter 8
Dave knew he needed to keep the elderly lady alive. He needed to keep her talking somehow. He asked her name.
‘My name is Betty,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t remember,’ said Dave. ‘But I think I was in the army.’
‘Can you remember your training. For situations like this, I mean.’
‘Not yet. I’m hoping it’ll come back to me. I need to be a magician to get out of these ropes he’s got me in.’
Betty laughed a little.
‘It’s a hopeless situation isn’t it,’ she said.
‘Not completely. I think you did well to keep quiet. He thought you were dead.’
‘I thought I was.’
‘Is there anything within your reach?’ asked Dave.
He could hear her feeling around.
‘Something,’ she said. ‘My eyes aren’t good at the best of times.’
‘I seem to be blindfolded,’ said Dave. ‘I can’t remember how I got here. Can you?’
‘I was a silly old fool,’ said Betty. ‘He told me he was a preacher, looked all smart in his suit. He said he’d take me
home in his car as his good deed for the day. I thought he was ever so kind.’
They were silent for a bit.
‘Why do you think he targeted you?’ asked Dave.
‘Well,’ she said. ‘This is why Betty is a silly old fool. I knew there was a few missing elderly people. I heard about it on the news. They were looking for a man in the area. They said don’t approach him. I thought I would be fine. Who would capture and kill little old me?’
‘He seems to have a conspiracy theory from what I can tell,’ said Dave. ‘I would imagine he’ll need locking in Broadmoor when they find him.’
‘If they find him,’ said Betty.
‘I think they’ll find him,’ said Dave. ‘He’s not being discreet, standing on the streets like that. And he’s greedy. He’ll be looking for more victims. It seems to give him a high. Regular serial killer if you ask me.’
‘It might be too late for us though,’ said Betty.
Dave sighed. She was right.
He wondered where Stephen was being kept. He couldn’t work it out from his voice. Betty’s voice was ahead and to the left. Stephen’s voice seemed to come from everywhere.
‘Stephen, where are you?’ he called.
There was no answer.
‘Tell me you’re alive,’ said Dave.
‘I’m here,’ said Stephen. ‘I’m trapped.’
‘Can you think of an escape route?’
‘I’d untie you if I could,’ said Stephen.
‘Thanks Stephen,’ said Dave.
Dave could hear Betty crying quietly.
‘Are you OK?’ he asked. ‘Betty?’
‘It’s you I’m worried for,’ she said.
Dave felt his stomach sink. He tried to remember his name. The smell of dead bodies was strong. Why did he have images of dead people in his head. He tried to see more. He could see policemen. He could see himself telling a policeman to make inquiries about witnesses.
‘Betty?’ he asked. ‘In the news did they mention the police? Was a policeman missing?’
‘I only caught the last of it. They said he was very dangerous. Yes, I think they did mention an officer, one of their best, well, there was something about it. Are you a policeman now?’
Only the Good Die Young Page 6
