The Christmas Killer

by Alex Pine

  Tears sparkled in Janet’s eyes and she started to slowly shake her head.

  ‘Oh God, I am so sorry, Annie. But Ron put me in an awkward position by asking me outright when he heard you were moving back here. He said he had always suspected it because of something your father told him at the time.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell him that it wasn’t true?’

  Janet shook her head. ‘I don’t know. It just came out and as soon as it did I knew I’d boobed. I swore the old man to secrecy. But he let me down just as he did after I told him about me and Charlie. I’ve got a big mouth, I know, but I beg you to forgive me.’

  ‘Did you tell anyone else?’

  ‘No, I didn’t. I swear.’

  ‘And what about Daniel?’

  ‘When he asked me about it, I told him it was nonsense and said his dad was mistaken. I thought he believed me and that would be the end of the matter.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t and I expect that sooner or later the bastard will approach me.’

  ‘Then all you have to say is that it didn’t happen. It’s ancient history, anyway, so I can’t imagine he’ll make a fuss about it.’

  When Janet stopped speaking her face folded and she began to cry. It was enough to convince Annie that there was no point in bawling her out. Janet knew she had been wrong to betray Annie’s confidence and her contrition seemed genuine. And besides, she’d had enough pressure piled on her for one day.

  ‘Look, don’t worry about it,’ Annie said. ‘I accept your apology and with all that’s been going on it doesn’t seem like such a big deal. Let’s have another drink and then I’d better be off. James will probably be home soon.’

  After some more tears were shed, Janet wiped her eyes and topped up their glasses. Then she rifled through the envelopes on the table and picked one up, passing it to Annie.

  ‘Don’t forget to take this with you,’ she said. ‘It’s to you and James.’

  CHAPTER FORTY

  James resisted the urge to phone Annie when he and Stevens moved on from the Curtis house. He wanted to know if it was true that she’d had an abortion, and if so, why she hadn’t told him.

  It wouldn’t upset him if she had. After all, it was some twenty years ago – long before she’d ever met him – and, given the circumstances, it was probably the sensible thing to do.

  But the way it had come out was a source of embarrassment for him, especially when he wasn’t able to answer the question, and could only warn Daniel not to approach Annie about it.

  ‘Two decades have passed since you and she were together,’ he’d said. ‘So take my advice and let it rest.’

  Before going back to the patrol car, James asked DS Stevens if he’d mind keeping what had been said in the Curtis home to himself.

  ‘Of course, guv,’ he replied. ‘My lips are sealed. It’s a private matter and nothing to do with me.’

  He didn’t know if he could trust Stevens – after all, they hadn’t been the best of mates since the move to Cumbria – but there wasn’t much he could do other than take him at his word. He had too much on his mind to worry about it.

  But he was annoyed. It was as though his position as senior investigating officer was being compromised at every turn. First Annie’s Uncle Bill gets thrown into the mix, and now this link between his wife and another suspect.

  As they headed towards the home of former detective Giles Keegan, James hoped that he wasn’t about to be hit for six by yet another unwelcome surprise.

  Of all the houses James had visited during the past couple of days, Giles Keegan’s was by far the most impressive.

  It was a detached converted barn, with stone walls and striking views of the dales from the back windows. James had driven past it many times without realising that it was where the ex-cop was enjoying his retirement from the force.

  When the patrol car pulled up outside it was still snowing and the wind had strengthened, but before them was a picture postcard setting, with lights from the downstairs windows glowing in the dark and flakes of snow swirling and dancing all around them.

  Keegan hadn’t been told they were coming so he was surprised to see them. And James was surprised that he appeared to be ready for bed even though it was not yet six o’clock. He was wearing a thick dressing gown and clutching a paperback book.

  ‘I was about to have a bath to try to take my mind off what’s happening,’ he said, a little flustered. ‘You should have let me know you were going to drop by.’

  ‘It wasn’t planned,’ James said. ‘But as you’re aware we’re now investigating a second murder and we’re hoping you can provide us with some information about the latest victim.’

  ‘You mean Lorna?’

  James nodded. ‘You were seen socialising with her last week and it raises the question of whether or not you were in a relationship.’

  His eyes widened. ‘Oh, I see. Well, that’s an easy one to answer. No, we were not in a relationship, but I wanted us to be. You’d better come in and let me explain.’

  DS Stevens had already told James a few things about Keegan. He was a widower, his wife having died of cancer five years ago, and he had a son who was living in London. He had spent his entire career with the Cumbria Constabulary, working his way up from a PC to DCI.

  He’d lived in Kirkby Abbey for thirty years and had married his wife in the village church. He had a commendable record, according to Stevens, and had been highly rated as a detective.

  His home was warm and spacious, the décor tasteful and modern. He took them through to a large kitchen-cum-dining room and invited them to be seated at a glass-topped table. They declined his offer of a drink and James got straight down to business.

  ‘So tell us about Lorna Manning, Giles,’ he said.

  Keegan sat down himself, placing his book on the table.

  ‘First, you should know that I went over to the crime scene earlier hoping to speak to you, but you weren’t around and none of the other officers would talk to me,’ Keegan said. ‘I didn’t like to bother you after that as I knew how busy you’d be so I came back here and climbed into bed because her death has hit me hard. I feel like I can’t function.’

  ‘So what, if anything, was going on between you and Lorna?’ James asked.

  Keegan leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and James could see the grief clouding his features. The pain in his eyes was palpable, and his voice cracked when he spoke.

  ‘We’d known each other for six or seven years,’ he said. ‘My wife and Lorna were friends and when Christine died she was one of the people who helped me get through the worst of it. More recently we tended only to see each other at events in the village organised by the church and the school.

  ‘But then just over a week ago I was out on one of my regular walks across the fields when I spotted her sitting by herself next to the stream. I noticed she was crying so I went over to see if she was all right. She said she was, apart from being terribly embarrassed. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong and she asked me not to keep asking. So I didn’t. But I did persuade her to come back into the village and I walked her home.

  ‘She invited me in for a cup of tea and we talked for a while. I realised then that she was just as lonely as me, and I thought we got on really well, so I invited her out for a meal on Wednesday evening at The King’s Head, which I’m guessing is where we were seen together. It was really great and we agreed to do it again before Christmas. I was hoping it might lead to something more serious.’

  His eyes were glazed now and James could tell he was on the verge of losing it.

  ‘When was the last time you saw her, Giles?’ he asked.

  ‘That would be yesterday. We’d agreed to meet at the carol singing, but got split up after Charlie’s body was found. I popped round to her house later in the afternoon to see if she was okay.’

  ‘And was she?’

  ‘Not really. Like everyone else, she was shocked and upset.’

  ‘So ho
w long did you stay there?’

  ‘A couple of hours, I think. I left about five because she said she had some school work to do.’

  ‘And how was she when you left?’

  ‘Much the same. She was struggling to understand what’s going on in the village and she kept saying how worried she was for the children.’

  ‘Do you know if she intended to meet up with anyone else later in the evening?’

  ‘She told me she was going to bed early. I asked her if she was planning to go to the church service for Charlie and she said she was.’ There were tears in his eyes now and phlegm rattled noisily in his throat. ‘I assume you’re linking the two murders. But please tell me you’re making some headway. The villagers are rightly terrified.’

  ‘Well, as you more than others can appreciate, it’s early days still,’ James said. ‘But we do suspect the same person is responsible.’

  ‘So we’ve got a serial killer in Kirkby Abbey.’

  James shrugged in a noncommittal way. ‘I don’t suppose you have any idea who it might be?’

  Keegan took offence at that, shaking his head and fixing James with a belligerent stare.

  ‘Don’t you think I would tell you if I knew?’ he said. ‘I’ve been racking my brain but getting nowhere. None of it makes sense. This is a small village in Cumbria, for Christ’s sake. It isn’t crime-ridden London.’

  Keegan fell silent for a few seconds, his wet eyes distant, his lips trembling.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said eventually. ‘But this is all so close to home. I had feelings for Lorna and I can’t believe what’s happened to her.’

  Stevens asked him if he had managed to find out why Lorna had been crying that day by the stream. The DS also pointed out that several people, including Father Silver, had mentioned that she had often appeared depressed.

  He nodded. ‘I’m sure there was something bubbling beneath the surface, but she wouldn’t tell me what it was, and I wasn’t inclined to push it. I wish now that I had. Do you think it had something to do with why she was killed?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ Stevens said. ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘We’ve just come from interviewing Daniel Curtis. He told us you had an encounter with him on Friday evening,’ James said. ‘Can you explain what that was all about?’

  Anger flashed across Keegan’s features. ‘Sure, I can. That pervert was standing outside the school. I saw him when I left the nativity play. He must have been waiting to ogle the girls.’

  ‘So what did you do?’

  ‘Told him to shove off. The guy’s a nonce, and I should know because I was part of the team that helped get him convicted.’

  ‘And did he resist?’

  ‘He started to but then thought better of it and left. I hate it when he comes back here to see his old man because I don’t trust him.’

  James had no intention of telling him that Daniel claimed he had been waiting outside the school to speak to Annie. The fewer people who knew about that the better.

  He was about to wrap up the interview when Keegan’s expression changed.

  ‘Hold on a minute,’ he said. ‘Something has just occurred to me. What if the git was waiting for Lorna? She was in the school and would have left there soon after me.’

  ‘There’s no reason to believe he was, unless you know something we don’t,’ James said. ‘Did Lorna have reason to even know the man?’

  He thought about it while shaking his head. ‘I’m certain that she didn’t. But it could be that she got on his bad side. Maybe she’d seen him before outside the school and warned him to stay away and he didn’t like it.’

  ‘It’s hardly a motive for murder,’ James said.

  ‘That man has an evil streak running through him, and to my mind he’s capable of anything. You need to look into it and find out if he’s had any issues recently with Charlie Jenkins. If it was me leading this fucking investigation I would—’

  ‘Stop there, Giles,’ James interrupted him, his voice stern. ‘You are not in charge, and I don’t appreciate you telling me how to do my job. We’ll be following up every lead, you can be sure of that. In the meantime, I’ll expect you not to get involved. And that means staying away from Daniel Curtis.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The two detectives came away from Giles Keegan’s house feeling more than a little disappointed.

  The ex-police officer had shed some light on Lorna Manning’s private life, but he hadn’t helped them move any closer to solving the murders.

  James had no reason to doubt what Giles had told them and he couldn’t help but pity the guy. His hopes of a more fulfilling future with Lorna had been dashed and the full impact of it was hitting him hard.

  ‘It’s a shame she didn’t confide in him,’ DS Stevens said in the patrol car. ‘Something had obviously been troubling the poor woman for a long time. I would love to know what it was. It could be key to this.’

  ‘In my mind I keep coming back to the Christmas cards,’ James said. ‘If the perp is planning on killing twelve people then what links them? Were they involved in something together at some point in the past? Something nefarious, perhaps, and it’s backfired on them all? Maybe there’s no connection and they’ve been picked at random?’

  ‘And why is the killer being so brazen about it?’ Stevens said. ‘It’s as though he wants to draw attention to his actions and cause a shit storm.’

  James’s unease was growing by the minute, causing his temples to throb and ache. He was frustrated by the lack of progress and shocked at the pace at which things were moving. Two murders on two consecutive nights. Did it mean the killer would strike again tonight and another body would be discovered in the morning?

  The more James thought about it, the harder it was to ignore the panic that was churning in his stomach.

  James decided to make two stops before calling it a day. The first would be the crime scene at Lorna Manning’s house to see what progress the SOCOs had made. He’d then call in at the village hall to check that it was proving effective as a remote hub of operations.

  He told Stevens to go home so as to avoid being stranded by the weather. It was agreed that he’d head straight to Kendal HQ on Tuesday morning where he would look into Daniel’s alibi for Saturday night, stage a briefing for the team, and arrange for somebody to attend the victim post-mortems.

  ‘We’ll play the rest of it by ear,’ James said. ‘What we do tomorrow very much depends on what happens overnight. But for now, assume I’m staying here, and you might need to come back as well.’

  When they arrived in Willow Road, Stevens headed to his car and James didn’t envy him the twenty-mile journey to his home in Burnside. The snow was still coming down and it was bound to make it hard going on the roads.

  The street was clear of people but there were still police and forensic vehicles outside Lorna’s house.

  As James entered, his phone rang with a call from Tanner. The DCI wanted to know if there were any updates before he fronted the press conference at seven o’clock.

  ‘I’m afraid not, sir,’ James told him. ‘You know all there is to know.’

  Tanner groaned. ‘Unfortunately, that’s not enough to quash fears that the killing spree has only just begun.’

  James knew his boss was right, but he didn’t bother to tell him so. Instead he wished him good luck and said he would try to catch coverage of the presser on TV.

  The house had been turned upside down, testimony to the thorough job the SOCOs had done. They were still at it, but there were fewer of them now. Two were searching for clues in the back garden, aided by halogen arch-lamps on stands, and two others were in the kitchen scrubbing at the floor where Lorna’s body had been found.

  The chief forensic officer told James that they hadn’t come across anything significant, but they’d be returning tomorrow.

  He pointed to a small, black, wheeled, carry-on suitcase. ‘We found this under the victim’s bed,’ he said. ‘It’s
filled with personal documents and diaries. One of the other detectives was supposed to take it away with him but he must have forgotten.’

  ‘Have you been through it?’ James asked.

  ‘No, we haven’t. There’s a lot of it and I don’t reckon it will throw up any forensic evidence pertaining to the murder.’

  ‘But it might provide us with some useful information on the woman herself. Leave it with me and I’ll sign it out.’

  James took the case with him to the village hall. There was a uniformed officer outside who James didn’t know so he had to show his warrant card. A sign had been stuck to the door that read: POLICE NOTICE. TEMPORARILY CLOSED TO THE PUBLIC.

  Inside the hall, the desks had been moved around and a bunch of laptops, phones and a couple of TVs were now on top of them. Photos of the crime scene, including the bodies in situ, had been pinned to the board on the wall, along with names of potential suspects and printed copies of the messages in the Twelve Days of Christmas cards.

  There were five uniforms present and they all looked busy. James quickly briefed them and was told who would be manning the fort during the night.

  He then checked his watch and saw it was almost seven. He sent a text to Annie to say he’d be home soon and settled in a chair to watch live coverage on BBC News of the press conference in Penrith.

  He was still waiting for it to start when his mobile rang. He answered it without checking the caller ID.

  He recognised the voice immediately and it sent a chill through his body.

  ‘Andrew Sullivan,’ he blurted. ‘Is that you?’

  ‘It’s nice of you to remember my dulcet tones,’ came the reply.

  ‘How did you get this number and what the fuck do you want?’

  Sullivan laughed. ‘I got the number from one of your former colleagues at the Yard. He rang to tell me you were urgently trying to find out where I am and what I’m up to. So, for old times’ sake, I thought I’d give you a bell to let you know.’