The Christmas Killer

by Alex Pine

  James gritted his teeth and tried to think, and the first thing that popped into his mind was the chilling message written on the card he’d received.

  Twelve days. Twelve murders. Twelve victims. And they all deserve what’s coming to them.

  So was Charlie Jenkins the first victim? Was his murder proof that it wasn’t a hoax after all? Or did this have nothing to do with the Twelve Days of Christmas warning? Was it simply a hideous coincidence?

  More questions came thick and fast. Where was Charlie’s wife, Sonia? If he had been here for most of the night, why hadn’t she come looking for him or raised the alarm? Was it conceivable that she was the person who had killed him, perhaps in a jealous rage over his affair with Janet Dyer?

  James looked back towards the village, which was about a hundred yards away. A number of buildings, including The White Hart pub, overlooked the field. But it was extremely unlikely that anyone would have witnessed the attack from any of the windows. There was no lighting, and as well as the dark, the falling snow would have reduced visibility.

  James hoped it wouldn’t take the forensic officers long to reach the village. The crime scene already presented them with a major challenge, and if it started snowing again their task would be even more difficult.

  He took photos of the body from various angles and a couple of the dog. Then he called Tanner and broke the news.

  ‘There’s no way I can get there today so you’re in charge of this case as senior investigating officer,’ the DCI said. ‘I’ll get DS Stevens to assist. He’s on call. And I’ll warn the press office to be ready for an avalanche of enquiries.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Meanwhile, we can only hope that it’s a one-off and has nothing to do with that message in the card. But if it is, then we’ve got a big fucking problem on our hands.’

  ‘I agree,’ James said. ‘So how do we play it, guv? Should we disclose the existence of the message at this stage?’

  ‘No way. I don’t want everyone to panic, especially since we still can’t be sure that there is a link. We can certainly issue a warning to people in the village to be on their guard, though. For now, concentrate on those who might have harboured a grudge against the victim. And it seems to me that his wife should be at the top of the list after what happened between them yesterday.’

  ‘She’ll be my first port of call,’ James said. ‘But if she doesn’t have anything to do with it then I’m about to break the news to her that her husband has been murdered.’

  James knew he should have stayed with the body until backup arrived, but he didn’t know how long that would be. He decided to head back towards the village to make the crowd aware that the situation was under control. He would also get someone to help him seal off the crime scene.

  He knew that once he made it known that there had been a murder the news would spread like wildfire. And he felt sure there would be those who would demonstrate a distinct lack of sympathy because Charlie had betrayed and humiliated his wife.

  This thought prompted James to recall another line from the message in the card.

  And they all deserve what’s coming to them.

  He knew well enough that not all killers believe their victims deserve to die. Most resort to murder for selfish reasons, driven, among other things, by hatred, greed, envy and sometimes a warped sense of justice.

  In London, fatal stabbings were all too common. James had investigated dozens of them during his time with the Met, and most were carried out by perps who did not know their victims. But Kirkby Abbey was a world away from those inner-city areas where gang wars are rife and muggers lurk around every street corner. For that reason, James believed that Jenkins would have known his killer. Perhaps they were out walking together when the attack took place. Or maybe Jenkins was taken by surprise and the knife was plunged into him before he even realised what was happening.

  Back at the square the crowd was waiting with bated breath. James gulped air into his lungs as he tried to work out how best to handle the situation. He needed to persuade them to clear the square, but he sensed that wasn’t going to be easy.

  A man broke away from the crowd as he approached and hurried towards him. It was Giles Keegan, the retired detective who used to be based at the Kendal office.

  ‘Is it true?’ he asked excitedly. ‘Is there a body?’

  Keegan was a big fella in his mid-sixties who stayed in shape by regularly walking the fells. He was over six feet tall with a barrel chest and a large, square head that rested on wide shoulders.

  James found his presence somewhat reassuring, and it gave him an idea.

  He stopped in front of the ex-cop, and said, ‘I need you to listen in to what I’m about to announce, Giles. And then I’d appreciate your help in keeping things steady here until the troops arrive. They’re on their way.’

  ‘Just tell me what you want me to do,’ Keegan replied. ‘I’m at your disposal.’

  James thanked him and got straight on with addressing the crowd. As he spoke, he took in their worried expressions and noted that Fiona the hiker was standing between Annie and Father Silver.

  ‘First let me explain for those who don’t know me that I’m Detective Inspector James Walker, serving with the Cumbria force, and I recently moved into the village,’ he said. ‘I can confirm that there is a man’s body in the field on the other side of the stream.’

  He paused there and waited for the ripple of nervous chatter to die down before continuing.

  ‘The circumstances of this person’s death have yet to be established, and I would ask you all to stay clear of that area until it’s been processed by forensic officers. Needless to say, in these circumstances, the carol singing will have to be postponed. It would be helpful if you could leave the square immediately to make way for police vehicles that will be here shortly.

  ‘However, if any of you saw anything last night or early this morning that might in any way be relevant to this, then please make yourselves known to me.’

  Inevitably there were questions, and the first came from a man at the front.

  ‘Do you know who he is?’ the man said.

  ‘I do, but I’m not at liberty to reveal the identity until relatives have been informed.’

  ‘Was he murdered?’ someone else shouted.

  James held up his arms.

  ‘Look, I realise what a terrible shock this is to you all, but I’m not in a position to answer questions at this stage. So please be patient and do not venture onto the field. When my colleagues arrive an incident centre will be set up to deal with enquiries.’

  He turned away from the crowd and lowered his voice to speak to Giles Keegan.

  ‘You can help by making sure that nobody gets close to the body before backup arrives,’ he said. ‘The quickest way to the field is across the footbridge so that’s the best place to position yourself.’

  ‘Consider it done,’ Keegan said. ‘I take it we’re dealing with a murder?’

  James nodded. ‘The victim was stabbed at least twice and it seems to have happened while he was walking his dog.’

  ‘Is he a local man?’

  ‘Charlie Jenkins, the pub landlord.’

  ‘Holy shit.’

  James shifted his gaze from Keegan to The White Horse pub, which was thirty or so yards away to his right.

  It appeared to be still closed, but there was a figure standing at one of the upstairs windows. James was pretty sure it was Sonia Jenkins, and she was looking down on the square.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The crowd showed no sign of dispersing even as the marked police cars started arriving in the square.

  James was there to direct them along the road to the scene of the crime.

  Both Annie and Father Silver tried to grab his attention, but he asked them to bear with him as he instructed the uniformed officers to encourage people to return to their homes.

  DS Stevens arrived in a pool car behind the forensics van. James fille
d them all in without referring to the threat in the Christmas card. But Stevens let it be known that the DCI had told him about it over the phone.

  ‘Keep it to yourself for now along with the victim’s name,’ James said. ‘I don’t want his identity known until I’ve talked to the wife.’

  ‘Is she a suspect?’ Stevens asked.

  ‘Right now everyone in this village is,’ James said.

  ‘So what do you want me to do?’

  ‘Go and see what turns up when the techies start on the corpse,’ James said. ‘And get someone to coordinate a search of the area around it. I don’t expect much to come of it because of the snow, but we have to try.’

  James then pointed out Fiona Birch to one of the uniforms.

  ‘She’s the woman who came across the body,’ he said. ‘Take down her details and a statement. Then escort her back to whichever B&B she’s staying in.’

  He then took Annie to one side and told her about Charlie Jenkins. Her eyes stretched wide and she clamped her top lip between her teeth.

  ‘Oh Jesus,’ she said. ‘That’s terrible. Does Sonia know?’

  ‘That’s what I’m about to find out,’ James said. ‘After I’ve spoken to her I intend to talk to Janet Dyer, so can you text me her address and phone number?’

  ‘You don’t seriously think that either of them had anything to do with it, do you?’

  He shrugged. ‘Who knows? I’ve got to start somewhere, and since they both had a bust-up with Charlie yesterday, they have to be in the frame.’

  ‘But that’s crazy. What about whoever is behind those messages? Isn’t it more likely that Charlie is the first of the victims and you were wrong to assume it was a prank?’

  ‘Look, I don’t want you to mention the cards to anyone, Annie,’ he said. ‘We need to keep it to ourselves for now. Charlie’s murder will be enough to put the fear of God into people. Telling them he could be the first of many won’t make them any safer, but it will result in mass hysteria and that’ll hinder the investigation.’

  ‘But don’t you think that the villagers should know what we know?’

  ‘All we actually know is that someone scrawled an anonymous threat inside a Christmas card,’ James said. ‘As of this moment we have no idea if it’s connected to what has happened to Charlie. The most likely scenario is that his murder is simply a coincidence.’

  ‘But what if it isn’t. What if—’

  ‘Annie, just drop it for now. Please. I need to get this investigation started and then take it one step at a time. It could be that by the end of the day we’re able to identify Charlie’s killer and rule out any connection with the cards.’

  Annie drew a tremulous breath and nodded.

  ‘Okay, fair enough. I’m sorry. I appreciate you’re better equipped to handle this than I am. It’s all so scary.’

  ‘I know, hon. But I suggest you go home and find something to occupy your mind. I’m going to be tied up all day now.’

  ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘First I’ll see if I can find Bill. He still hasn’t made an appearance.’

  ‘Ah, good luck with that. And don’t forget to text me Janet’s details.’

  James kissed Annie on the cheek and then headed towards The White Hart. He noticed that Sonia Jenkins was no longer peering out of the upstairs window. She was now standing in front of the entrance and waving at him.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  As James walked towards Sonia, he saw that she was wearing a dark blue dressing gown. Her hair hadn’t been brushed and it exploded from her head in thick brown tangles. It made him wonder if she had only just got out of bed.

  ‘What’s all the commotion?’ she asked as he approached her. ‘I was expecting carol singing this morning, not a chorus of police sirens.’

  ‘I’ll tell you about it inside,’ James said. ‘Are you by yourself?’

  ‘I am at the moment. Beth and Josh, our chef, are due any minute, and I’m guessing my husband is out walking the dog. I just went to the spare room to wake him up, but he wasn’t there and the dog’s gone, too.’

  ‘So you sleep in separate rooms.’

  ‘Only when we fall out, which up until now hasn’t been very often. But I can’t imagine sharing a bed with him any time soon.’

  They stepped inside, and James pushed the door closed behind them. Sonia walked over to the bar and rested her elbow on it, turning to face him.

  ‘I appreciate you taking the time to come over and tell me what’s going on,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t get anyone else’s attention.’

  James slipped out of his coat and draped it over the nearest chair. Sonia watched him, a frown forming on her face.

  ‘So has something really bad happened?’ she said. ‘Or is it another case of a hiker getting lost on the fells? That’s usually why cop cars turn up here.’

  James looked at her and couldn’t tell whether she was putting on an act or if she really didn’t know.

  ‘I’m afraid I have some bad news about your husband, Mrs Jenkins,’ he said.

  ‘Charlie! What’s he done now?’

  James gestured towards one of the sofas.

  ‘I think we should sit down. What I’m about to—’

  ‘Just spit it out, Detective. Has my husband been involved in an accident or has he upset Janet Dyer again?’

  An image of Charlie’s body lying in the snow resurfaced in James’s mind. He felt his insides clench up.

  ‘Your husband is dead, Mrs Jenkins,’ he said. ‘His body was found a short time ago in the field behind these buildings.’

  At first she just stared at him, mouth open, forehead creased above raised eyebrows. Then she started shaking her head.

  ‘No, that can’t be right,’ she said, her voice cracking. ‘Please tell me it isn’t true.’

  ‘I wish I could, Mrs Jenkins, but I’ve seen your husband’s body myself and there’s no mistake.’

  She seemed suddenly unsteady on her feet, so James held onto her arm and guided her to a chair. He sat down next to her and studied her expression. It didn’t appear that she was faking it. The shock seemed genuine.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘When did it happen? And how?’

  ‘The exact time of death has yet to be established,’ James said. ‘But it seems certain that he was killed late last night. When was the last time you saw him?’

  Tears were clouding her eyes now and the words rasped in her throat as she spoke

  ‘After we closed up. It was almost midnight. We weren’t talking and I’d had a lot to drink so I went to bed. I heard Charlie say he was taking Daisy for a walk, which he does every night.’

  ‘And you didn’t hear him return?’

  ‘I crashed out as soon as my head hit the pillow. So no, I didn’t.’

  ‘I see. Well, we—’

  ‘What about Daisy?’ she cut in. ‘Our dog. Where is she?’

  ‘I was about to tell you, Mrs Jenkins,’ James said. ‘A Yorkshire Terrier was found close to Charlie’s body. I’m sorry to say she’s also dead, probably from the cold.’

  A great sob escaped her, and suddenly her face was red and distorted.

  ‘I c-can’t believe this,’ she stammered. ‘It feels like I’m dreaming. That none of this is real.’

  ‘Is there someone I can contact who can come and be with you?’ James asked.

  Sonia ignored the question and shot to her feet. ‘Take me to him,’ she blurted. ‘I need to see for myself. I can’t just take your word for it. What if it’s a mistake and he’s still alive?’

  James stood to join her and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  ‘That won’t be possible, Mrs Jenkins. The field is now a crime scene and forensic officers are working there. But I can assure you it’s not a mistake. You will be asked to formally identify your husband, but not yet.’

  She sat back down and started crying, sobs wracking her body. She produced a tissue from her dressing gown pocket and started to dab at her eyes.

&
nbsp; ‘You still haven’t told me what happened,’ she said, her voice laced with despair. ‘How did Charlie die?’

  There was no easy way to tell her, so James just came right out with it.

  ‘It appears he was attacked while walking across the field and stabbed at least twice,’ he said. ‘I suspect he died from his wounds almost immediately.’

  More tears came then and this time she buried her face in her hands.

  James’s heart went out to her, but at the same time he knew he had to keep an open mind. He had interviewed people in the past who had convinced him at first that they were innocent through performances worthy of an Oscar.

  So, despite the tears, Sonia Jenkins had to be their prime suspect for now. Just hours before her husband was killed, they’d had a serious row over Janet Dyer, during which James had witnessed Sonia telling Charlie that she wished he was dead.

  Was it possible that she had followed him when he left the pub last night? Had she gone armed with a knife, intending to get revenge?

  She stopped crying abruptly and stared at him, as though reading his mind.

  ‘Do you have any idea who did it?’ she asked.

  ‘Not yet, we don’t,’ James replied.

  ‘Please don’t tell me you think it was me, because it wasn’t,’ she said. ‘Of course, I was angry with him and deeply hurt. He had an affair three years ago and it almost split us up. He swore to me it wouldn’t happen again. But I would never kill him. In fact, I know I would have forgiven him again in time.’

  ‘You must appreciate that I have to treat everyone as a suspect until they can be ruled out, and that includes you, Mrs Jenkins,’ James said.

  ‘I’ve told you exactly what happened last night, and you have to believe me. I could never hurt anyone, especially not Charlie. And Daisy meant the world to me. Do you really think I would leave her out there to freeze to death?’

  ‘I hear what you’re saying, and I can assure you I’m not jumping to any conclusions, Mrs Jenkins. But let me ask you this: Have you any idea who might have wanted to kill your husband?’