Urge to Kill (1) (38 page)

‘Interesting.’

Sam came to join him. ‘Good looking.’

‘Work colleague of Clive’s. Name of Ben. Looks like he thinks a lot of him.’

‘Which could be why the girls weren’t—’

‘Molested. Yes, his interest lies elsewhere.’

By the time they had finished, Jason and then Jenny had arrived. Jason was in a hurry to secure his crime scene, so after signing them in, he banished them to hold a brief conference outside the front door.

‘He will know we are onto him, but looking at his pattern, I think he will want to show us that he can still outsmart us. I think he will head back to the spa,’ Matt said.

‘Uniform are still there. I’ll alert them. You and Sam go to the spa. I’ll ring it in and arrange backup.’

Matt turned towards his car only to find it hemmed in by the forensic team’s full complement of vehicles. Even if he went over the neat flowerbed, he couldn’t see how he could manoeuvre it out of there in a hurry. It would have to be Sam’s old banger, which was still parked on the road.

‘Take the response car.’ Jenny indicated for the uniformed officer to give up the keys. He was reluctant, until she clicked her fingers impatiently. Matt was already moving towards the car when she shouted after him. ‘You’ve done the course?’

Matt nodded as he jumped into the driver’s seat. He did not intend to tell her it was over six years ago.

CHAPTER 57

T
he light from Clive’s torch hardly pieced the shadows. It was as if the memorials to the dead were ganging up to protect his quarry. He had always felt ill at ease when passing through graveyards and was finding it hard to force himself forward.

Then he saw her run towards the lighted church and hesitated. Her gods might give her temporary shelter, but his were more powerful. They would bring her to him at the right time. Clive would let her think she was safe for now, and then, when he had her husband and his team distracted by his next masterpiece, he would seek her out again. Eppie Turrell would keep until later. Besides, he had to attend to Mika.

He pulled into the lay-by and turned off the engine. It wouldn’t be long now. The sun had lowered behind the trees and dusk was turning rapidly into night. The birds were in their nests, twittering to each other. Mother always sent them to bed when the birds were in their nests.

Mother was asleep now. Asleep like the birds. The thought made him smile. He had made sure she was warm, like a little bird in the nest. Except she had no one to cuddle. This made him laugh.

Even to his ears, the laugh sounded odd, as it reverberated around the parked car. Maybe he was going mad. No. No. This would mean that they had won. Father, Blake-Spencer, and all the others who had tried to bend him to their will, order him about, like DI Turrell.

Clive pulled back, forcing himself to concentrate. He ran his hands over the patterned leather of the steering wheel, the cold hardness of the side window, felt the smooth roundness of the gear leaver. She would be here soon, and he wanted it to be perfect. This one was for Ben. For their love. He imagined telling him what he had done in his honour. It would bind them together forever, and Ben would hold him and love him.

A car swished by, rocking his car and disturbing his thoughts. He glanced at the dashboard clock. It was time for him to become Detective Inspector Browning again and to get into position to meet her. He checked the ‘warrant’ card, sure that in the dark it would pass muster. She would feel it a privilege to be escorted into work, to be protected.

Clive locked the car door and hurried the five hundred yards to the place he had chosen, just a few feet from the main driveway to the spa. He had worked out that she would come from the left, so he concentrated on the road with only the occasional glance towards the right, just in case she had decided to come a different way.

Eight minutes to go if she was on time. What if she was sick or had swapped shifts? No, he wouldn’t even think about it. This was meant to be. He had planned it all too carefully. He had proven that he could fool them all, that he was invincible. She had to come.

The deepening dusk was now infused with light swirls of fog that seemed perfect for his purpose. Even nature was working with him. She must come to take her role in destiny.

At last, headlights glanced off the hedges as a car approached. Soon the black and white mini was driving towards him, slowing down and indicating that it was turning into the spa drive. Clive stepped into the road and held up his hand. She braked but stayed in the car. He moved to the driver’s window and performed the motion of winding it down while holding up his warrant card. She obeyed him without question.

‘Detective Inspector Browning, Ma’am. We are taking no chances after the recent events here at the spa and are escorting all lone females into the building.’ Clive made his voice sound serious and official, modelling it on DI Turrell. She gave a little giggle.

‘Oh. How nice, Inspector. Thank you.’

‘I will ride with you. It will be safer that way.’ He moved around to the passenger side of the car and waited for her to click open the door. Then he was inside and indicated that she should proceed.

Clive glanced at her as they wound their way up the driveway towards the car park. She would fit into the yellow dress he had chosen, and it would highlight her dark hair. He wanted this statement to be perfect. The excitement was building within him. Eager to do their work, his hands itched and tingled. But he must be patient, must wait until they reached the darkest side of the staff car park, when the job could be done without fear of discovery. Where even the CCTV didn’t reach.

The Mini’s headlights swung around a curve in the drive and caught the patrol car full on. Two uniform officers, coffee in hand, turned momentarily towards them. Clive tried not to hold his breath and instead gave a brief nod. The Mini passed by and continued up the driveway, while Clive congratulated himself on his plan. It was obvious they would have stopped him if he had been a lone male but a couple would not pose a threat.

His confidence was shaken seconds later, however, as the patrol car sprung into action. Its siren shot through the stillness of the night and the blue light glanced repeatedly across the back of their heads. Was he found out?

As they listened, he was relieved to realise that the sound was moving away.

‘Will it be him?’ Mika asked, nervously.

‘I wouldn’t think so,’ Clive assured her in a calm, but authoritative voice. ‘Probably an accident or a domestic.’

She was looking scared, and he couldn’t afford to have her getting skittish at this point.

‘We still have a team on site,’ he added. This seemed to reassure her and she drove through the main guest parking lot and into the smaller staff one beyond.

Clive directed her to park just where he wanted her, close to the hedge where he had hidden his props. She switched off the engine and turned to thank him. He reached out, as if to pat her shoulder, but instead grasped her around the neck and pulled her towards him.

By the time she had realised what was happening, he had brought up his left hand to enclose her neck. She was struggling frantically, fighting for her life. And she was strong. Her hands had found their way to his face and were scrabbling to reach his eyes. The confined space within the car was hampering his hold, and he could feel his grip loosening. He tried to move his head away from her probing fingers but felt a sharp scraping of nails across his right eye. His hands went instinctively to his face.

She used this moment to kick open her door, stagger from the car, and disappear into the dark of the car park.

Momentarily blinded and in pain, by the time Clive got out of the car, she was yards ahead of him, halfway across the staff parking lot and dangerously close to the well-lit guest parking area where the CCTV would pick them both up. She mustn’t be allowed to get away, to spoil his plan.

Ignoring the pain in his eye, he began to run after her. She was running wildly, fuelled by terror. Clive made a supreme effort and closed the gap, but then she glanced back and added a desperate spurt.

She was his. This couldn’t be happening. No one was allowed to refuse their place, their role in his statements.

Even Mother. Mother. Mother, who had let him place his head in her lap, had stroked his hair, sang to him. He should go home to Mother. But Mother wouldn’t like it if he let this girl go. She would be cross.
‘Always finish what you start, Clive.’
He could hear her voice echoing through his head.

He heard a twig snap. She was trying to take a short cut through the bushes that bordered the car park. Should he run through the parking lot and cut her off or follow her? Mother was silent. Maybe she didn’t like him killing off her favourite ones. The ones she loved and cuddled. But she no longer had the power. He did.

The thought added renewed energy, and he dived into the bushes behind Mika, hearing her laboured gasps just ahead of him. He was catching up. Could reach out and grasp her.

She turned to lash out at him. He made his move to end her freedom but felt his arm held. Mother? Mother had come back to restrain him. As the girl stumbled out onto the forecourt of the spa, Clive realised it was just a thorn tearing into his jacket. The girl had almost reached the front entrance. He must stop her.

He raced after her, but she had gone inside as he approached. The light seemed blinding, painful to his eyes.
‘Always finish what you start, Clive.’
Mother was right; he had to go on.

There she was in Reception. Clive moved towards her, but someone was blocking his way. The matron woman, solid and sure, feet rooted to the ground in front of his girl.

‘Back off. I warn you, the police are on their way.’

Clive moved to the left in an attempt to get behind her, to the girl, his girl, but she turned again to face him, shielding his prize behind her.

‘She’s mine.’

‘Not this time.’

‘No, no, you can’t stop this happening. You can’t stop me.’

‘We’ll see about that.’

She altered her stance and brought up her hands as if she was going to box with him. This made Clive laugh, and he moved forward. The girl screamed. The Matron dropped her arms and looked behind him.

‘Thank, God. You got here in time.’

He turned, expecting a regiment of police, and then sniggered as he recognised the little smart-ass police officer who had tried to trip him up.

She held up her warrant card and took a step towards Clive.

‘Detective Constable Meadows. Clive Draper, I am arresting you for the murders of Sandi Tomlinson and Amy Metcalfe. You do not have to say anything.’

Exhilarated, he laughed again and heard it reverberate loudly around the lobby to bounce back at him in a thousand high-pitched shards. It was as if he had multiplied, become even more powerful, invincible. Fate had sent this woman into his hands. She was meant to pay for her crime. He could see that now.

‘But it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court.’

Clive moved towards her and she held her ground, although he saw she was positioning herself for his attack. Not that she had a chance.

‘Anything you do say may be given as evidence.’

He was within two feet of her now and held out his hands, as if in supplication to her wishes, but she was wary. He stayed that way and waited. She looked at him hard and long before continuing.

There was a moment’s silence. This was fun, letting her think she could have the slightest power over him. With fate and the gods on his side, she had no chance. She stepped forward.

‘Turn around and put your hands behind your back.’

Clive half turned, as if to obey, waiting until she reached one hand back for the handcuffs. Then he swung round and struck hard, felling her with one blow to the side of the neck. He heard a cry from behind.

Given her colouring, the lilac dress would have been better, but the yellow would have to do. He must prepare her, take her to the car park. As he bent to lift her, he thought there was a slight flutter of her eyelids. He must finish the job.

A feeble blow caught him across the right shoulder. He turned to find the matron woman backing away armed with a hard file of some kind. She wasn’t worth bothering with, and he only needed to wave his arms and shout ‘boo,’ to enjoy watching her as she scuttled back to the girl, nearly falling over in her hurry. The girl stepped forward to steady her.

Giggling to himself, he turned back to collect the Constable. Someone else stood in the doorway. His gods were rewarding him.

Mrs Eppie Turrell. They had presented her to him. He was truly blessed.

She paused to take in everything before rushing towards the Constable, kneeling at her side feeling for a pulse. And then she looked Clive directly in the eye. ‘Leave her alone.’

Clive knelt and leant towards her. ‘Oh I will. Now that you are here.’ He reached across to take her warm neck into his tingling hands, but she was too fast and stood, aiming a kick at his head. Still half-kneeling, he caught her foot and twisted, hearing a crack, as she landed face down on the marble floor.