by Helen Phifer
She pushed herself to walk away from the safety of the house. The entire garden was flooded with brilliant white light as the security lights blazed into life, banishing all of the dark corners and shadows until she was nearer to the lake. She looked around; there was no one here. The lights hadn’t triggered; she was safe and secure in her own little slice of lakeside heaven. Reassured by this comforting thought, she walked down towards the water’s edge. She’d forgotten how peaceful she found the sound of water lapping against the shingle. It had been the big pull of this house when she’d first looked at it. The seclusion, the security, the close proximity to the lake; just being able to sit by it and contemplate life had drawn her in hook, line and sinker.
As she stood at the water’s edge, everything went black as the timer ran out on the security lights and, even though her pulse was racing more than usual, she felt as if she could cope. The urge to run back towards the safety of her fortress was there, but it wasn’t as strong as it used to be. She had faced the monster in her life twice; fought it and won. It was time to begin to really enjoy what she had.
A wave of sadness washed over her as she thought about Josh. All relationships had their blips, and now she knew about Jodie’s illness it was different. She understood his loyalty to her despite her betrayal; good old Josh, who wouldn’t let anyone down.
As she looked out onto the lake at the boats in the distance, she thought about Leah, Julia and now Tamara. Three blonde beauties who had all died far too young. It hit Beth hard and she whispered to the lake: ‘Three deaths makes you a serial killer. Are you aware of this, or do you not care? Leah’s and Julia’s deaths looked like accidents on the surface. What happened to make you push Tamara off the boat in a crowd? You like the excitement. You’re getting brave and taking risks. So, does that make you clever, or a coward?’
A low rumble in the distance broke her thoughts. The storm was approaching. Turning, she rushed towards the house to fire up her computer.
Sixty-Seven
He watched as Chloe drained the last drops of champagne from her glass.
‘I could get used to drinking this.’
‘Do you want some more, or would you prefer to go back to mine where we can relax? I have lots more back home.’
She paused to think about it. ‘I think I would like to go to your boat.’
‘Why? I mean you can, of course we can, but I would have thought you’d prefer to keep on dry land.’
‘I’m feeling sad for my friend Leah. She died on there. I would like to say goodbye, to raise a toast to her.’
James laughed. ‘I like a girl who knows what she wants.’ He leant across and touched a wisp of her hair which had come loose. Stroking it, he pushed it behind her ear.
‘The boat it is then.’ He was glad the police had released it as a crime scene and returned the keys to him. There was something potent about her. She set his soul on fire and he suddenly wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any other woman. He phoned a taxi, definitely over the limit by now, and even though traffic police weren’t around these parts very often he didn’t want to risk it and get caught. Not when he had too many beautiful girls to attend to. Some people had notches on their bedposts, but he preferred taking a personal keepsake from his girls: the smallest snippet of their hair – a tiny lock he would tie with a piece of silk and hide away in his bedside drawer. Sometimes, if he was lonely, he would take them out to stroke them, each small piece reminding him of the girls he’d loved or lusted over. Some men liked silk stockings; he liked silky, soft hair. He’d had his fair share of redheads and brunettes over the years, but there was something special about a girl with blonde hair.
They went outside where the taxi was already waiting. He opened the door for her, and Chloe slid inside; he followed. ‘Slow night?’
‘You can say that again. Where to?’
‘Glebe Road, the marina please.’
As the car sped off, he reached out and began to stroke Chloe’s leg. Her hand reached over to him and caressed the ever-growing bulge in the front of his trousers. He had to stifle the groan which was threatening to erupt.
‘There’s a thunderstorm coming,’ said the taxi driver.
That’s not the only thing coming, James thought to himself…
Sixty-Eight
The Internet was running unbelievably slowly. Another loud rumble in the distance echoed around the house and she wondered if the imminent storm was affecting it. Google loaded and she typed in ‘Drowning Lake Windermere since 2011’. The first page of searches told her that, apart from the recent deaths she had dealt with, all of them female, it was only men who had drowned in the lake, so she continued searching. What did it mean? She sat back. So apart from Leah, Julia and Tamara it was very rare, if not unheard of, for a woman to drown in the lake. Cold fingers of unease crept along her spine as she read on.
After a couple of pages, she saw the headline:
Last Picture of School Friends Before One Drowned
Clicking on it, she watched as the fuzzy image taken from a tabloid newspaper article began to focus. She realised it was different to the one she’d read earlier. This one had more information and it named the boys. In the photo, a group of nine teenage boys were laughing at something. Zooming in to look at their faces, she thought she spotted one who was vaguely familiar: his face was rounder, but showing traits of the handsome young man he would become. How sad and tragic, she thought, as she wondered how much their lives had changed that day. Fifteen was a young, impressionable age to undergo such a traumatic experience. Was it traumatic enough to turn you into a cold-blooded killer though?
Her phone rang and she was relieved to see Josh’s name. ‘Hi, you.’
‘Sorry, Beth, it’s been a bit crazy here.’
‘Paul said at the post-mortem you had three people in for interview. How did you get on?’
‘Not as good as I’d hoped. The last one has just walked out of the station with his solicitor. We have nothing apart from the fact all three of them were present when or before two of the three victims went into the water.’
‘Was James Marshall one of them?’
‘Yes, along with Marcus Johnson and Ethan Scales. Why do you ask?’
‘Those names are familiar. I think one of them might be a serial killer.’ She paused.
‘Go on.’
‘Well I think we’ve been looking at it the wrong way. We’ve been thinking that maybe the victims were drunk and fell in or that they’d been pushed or it was some kind of accident. All three girls have long, blonde hair, all are young and pretty. Up to now, my suspicious mind aside, there isn’t an awful lot apart from minute specks of marine varnish under two of the victims’ nails to suggest the drownings were anything other than tragic accidents.’
‘But…’
‘Well for a start, I’ve searched pages and pages on Google. Women don’t drown in Lake Windermere, at least not very often, and none in the last few years. It’s all men and teenage boys. So it’s unusual for a woman to drown. But we have had three drownings in one week. The trace evidence recovered from both Leah and Julia has been confirmed as originating from the same boat; I can’t confirm which one, though. When I went to the marina to look at The Tequila Sunrise there was one of those old-fashioned rowing boats tied up behind it. But when I went back there this evening it had gone.’
‘What were you doing at the marina, Beth?’
She could hear the concern in his voice. ‘Just making some gentle enquiries. I might have spooked James Marshall a little on my first visit.’
‘You spoke to him? Do you know how dangerous it could have been?’
She bit her lip. ‘I was a little reckless.’ She paused again; he didn’t speak so she carried on.
‘I thought the boat was empty, so I went on board to get a paint sample to send off for comparison. Only I realised when I was on board that the boat was fibreglass, but then I noticed the wooden boat behind.’
‘What did y
ou do, Beth?’
‘I climbed down the ladder to get a sample. Then… then I fell into the lake.’
The sharp intake of breath was so loud her ear popped.
‘Luckily for me James Marshall was on board, heard the splash and rescued me. When he asked what the hell I was doing I thought I owed him an honest answer. I told him I wanted a paint sample from his boat and then I left.’
‘I honestly don’t know what to say.’
‘Well there isn’t a lot to say. Luckily for me he was there to drag me out. I did get a sample but it wasn’t a big enough one to compare, so I went back tonight but the boat was nowhere to be seen. He’d moved it, which kind of tells me he’s guilty of something. Anyway, regardless of how good his alibi is or his lawyer, I think you should be watching him very closely. Whoever this is isn’t in it for the glory, they’re doing it for the thrill and now they’ve reached that level I don’t think they’ll stop. You also need to find out why they took such a risk to push Tamara into the water with so many potential witnesses around. Something must have happened to force his hand in some way.’ She paused, but Josh was silent, taking it all in. ‘There is one other thing. I found an article from eight years ago, with a photograph of a group of teenage boys on a school trip. One of those boys, Tyler Johnson, drowned after a race in the lake. James Marshall was there, and so were two others you said you interviewed today, Marcus Johnson was Tyler’s twin and Ethan Scales. They were all there that day.’
‘Thanks, Beth, but you need to leave the investigating to my team. What you’re doing is dangerous and to be honest it’s crossing the line. I don’t want to have to be worrying about whether or not you’re safe. Let us do our job, okay. I’ll see you later.’
He ended the call, and she felt marginally better after confessing everything to him.
Only she couldn’t settle. She wondered where Ethan Scales and Marcus Johnson were. Would they be willing to talk to her about the incident years ago? Not having the luxury of a police national database to do an address search, she did the next best thing; she logged on to Facebook, deciding to try and find Ethan first. It might be easier to speak to him rather than Marcus, given that it was Marcus’s twin that had died that day.
Sixty-Nine
Josh was furious with how reckless Beth had been, but he also held a grudging admiration. She’d make a bloody good detective and he’d have her on his team in a heartbeat. Though he was annoyed she hadn’t told him about her near miss, he realised that she hadn’t had the chance. He hadn’t spoken to her properly for days, except for their argument the previous night. He rushed up the stairs back into the office, where the DCI was zipping up his coat ready to leave.
‘Sir, there’s been some developments. I think you need to hear this.’
Paul perched himself on the corner of the desk and everyone else looked up from what they were doing to pay attention.
‘I’ve just spoken to Dr Adams and she told me the trace evidence from the first two victims is a confirmed match, and Dr Adams thinks it likely came from a wooden rowing boat. She also confirmed that James Marshall had such a boat tied to the back of The Tequila Sunrise only it’s not there now. He has moved it out of sight.’
Paul spoke. ‘The same boat?’
‘Yes, I believe so. Which puts James Marshall back in the frame. We need to find that boat and keep a close eye on him. Dr Adams thinks he’s doing this for the thrill and won’t stop until he’s caught.’
‘Bollocks.’
Josh smiled despite the bleakness of the situation; it took a lot to make the DCI lose his cool.
‘We need a warrant to search Marshall’s addresses to find the boat. Sykes, can you do some background checks to see what properties, boats, houses, etc he owns or has access to?’
‘On it.’
She bent her head and began to type on the computer.
‘Sir, can you sort out the warrant?’
‘Myself, Paton and Sam will go and see if we can find Marshall. Once we’ve located him, I’ll request a POLSA team to come and take over until we’re good to go.’
Josh didn’t wait for Paul to say yes, he just grabbed his jacket and began to head out of the door, closely followed by Sam and Paton. It had only been a couple of hours since Marshall had left the station, so he would have either gone home or to his boat. At least that was what Josh hoped, though in reality he could be anyplace including Manchester Airport waiting to catch a flight to anywhere in the world.
He rang Sykes as he walked. ‘Can you get a wanted marker put on James Marshall for me and make sure it’s distributed to all the airports?’
He hung up, knowing it would be done before they’d even got as far as the marina. Next he rang Karen Taylor and asked if she could get Cal to meet them with the lake warden’s boat at the marina. He didn’t know if they were going to need it, but he was covering all bases. He just hoped they weren’t too late, and that Marshall thought they were all too stupid to figure out what was really going on.
Seventy
Ethan opened the door to his cabin, sniffed, then stepped to one side for Grace to enter.
‘Sorry, it really is a bit of a shithole.’
She laughed. ‘I like it. You know what it reminds me of?’
He shook his head.
‘Have you ever watched the movie The Parent Trap? Not the old black-and-white one? The one with Lindsay Lohan when she was a cute kid.’
He shrugged. ‘No, I don’t think I have. I’m more into superhero kind of stuff like Batman and X-Men. I’m also quite partial to a Teenage Ninja Mutant Turtle, but that’s between you and me.’
She giggled and her face lit up.
He thought she was beautiful.
‘Well in it she goes to a summer camp and they have to stay in these cute wooden cabins by the lake. I always wanted to go to a summer camp and stay in one.’
‘Well your wish is my command. Welcome to autumn camp, where the accommodation has seen better days, but the views are pretty good and the company is even better.’
She followed him inside as a distant rumble of thunder erupted over the lake. ‘I love a good storm. I bet you get amazing views from here.’
He nodded. ‘I suppose we do. I’ve never taken much notice of them before. We’ll be able to watch it from the window.’
He went to the kitchen area and put the boxes of pizza down, then he got some plates out of the cupboard. He began to fish in the drawers for cutlery, and Grace shook her head.
‘Fingers are fine, pizza tastes better when you eat it with your fingers.’
Laughing, he picked up a slice and took a huge bite. Strings of hot, melted cheese dribbled down his chin and he scooped them up with his finger, shoving them into his mouth. ‘Sorry, I eat like a pig.’
Grace tore a piece of the spicy meat feast off and took a bite. They ate in silence until there were only crusts left in the box. Ethan didn’t have any nice wine glasses, just two chipped glass tumblers, which he took from the cupboard and rinsed under the tap. He opened the bottle of rosé they’d picked up at the off-licence and filled the glasses. He passed her one.
‘Sorry, I don’t really have company over often.’
She took it from him and clinked the glass against his. ‘I’m not like the others, you know.’
He looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The other girls on the boat: the rich, bratty, spoilt kids. My mum and dad both work; we don’t have money. Well, we have money, but not Claudia’s kind of money.’
He nodded. ‘Not many people do have Claudia’s kind of money. I’m the same. I got a scholarship and met all my rich friends at school.’
‘I met her through a friend of a friend; it’s not really my scene to be fair. I mean, it’s nice, the posh parties and stuff, but it’s not my reality and it sometimes makes me mean and ungrateful about the things I do have.’
‘Yeah, I guess it does. I’m the same.’
A huge flash of white light filled the
sky followed by a rumble of thunder. Grace ran to the door. Throwing it open, she stepped outside. He followed, and they stood there looking up at the cloud-filled sky waiting for the next flash of lightning.
‘One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine…’
A burst of light flashed over the mountains in the distance.
Grace turned to Ethan.
‘I wish we had a boat. Could you imagine being on the lake watching it? I’d be able to get some really cool photos for my Instagram page.’
He laughed. ‘I think it might be dangerous to go out on the water in a thunderstorm. Especially armed with a mobile phone.’
‘Why? You don’t believe everything they tell you, do you?’
He shook his head, embarrassed. ‘No, I don’t. I have a boat we can use if you really want to, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
She ran inside to grab the wine and glasses. ‘Come on, scaredy-cat, let’s go out a little bit. If the storm gets too close for comfort, we can go back to your cabin. It’s going to start raining. If we get wet, we might need to strip off and get dry.’
She winked at him, and Ethan decided being reckless and impossibly stupid might just be worth it.
Seventy-One
Josh and Sam went to James Marshall’s apartment. Paton took the marina. The apartment was in darkness. They got out of the car and checked the area, looking for his car. It was parked in the underground car park. They could see it through the locked gates.
‘What now, Josh?’
He radioed Paton. ‘Any luck?’
‘No, the boat’s in darkness. Everything is in darkness.’
‘Crap. We’ll hang around for a while and see if he turns up. You do the same.’
Huge splotches of rain began to fall and the sky vibrated with a loud clap of thunder. Sam looked at Josh.
