Shaping the Ripples (34 page)

Lost in these thoughts, it was a surprise to realise that Rebecca was back.

“No change?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “How was the interview?”

“It was fine really. There wasn’t that much I could tell them. They wanted to know if Katie had any enemies, what I thought of you, who knew the two of you were seeing each other, stuff like that.”

“So they’re still concentrating on me?”

“They seem to be,” a note of worry crept into her voice. “Jack, I mentioned that the two of you had split up briefly this week. I hope that doesn’t put you in a difficult position. I told them that there was no way you could be responsible for this, or for the killings.”

“Don’t worry,” I said with a confidence I didn’t feel. “I’d have had to have told them about it anyway.” Before we could continue the conversation, Laura Smith and Michael Palmer returned.

“You next, Mr. Bailey,” Michael Palmer said with what seemed like a challenging smile. “I think that I’ll handle your interview by myself.”

I looked to Laura Smith for some support, but to my dismay, she just nodded at me. Seeing no way out, I followed him down the corridor and into a small office.

He pushed the door closed behind us, and turned with a smile like that of a wolf about to devour its prey.

“You and I have quite a few things to sort out.”

Chapter Thirty Seven

I steeled myself for the coming confrontation, noting with alarm that the blinds over the windows were closed. Michael Palmer’s first words took me completely by surprise.

“It seems that I owe you an apology.”

“What?” I said in bemusement.

“An apology,” he repeated. “You are no longer on our list of suspects.”

“How come?”

He actually looked a little hesitant. “Have you been told the exact details of the attack on Miss. Dixon?”

“Just that she was hit on the head, and then wounded with a knife,” I told him, with a sudden sense of dread.

“I think that to understand the whole picture, you need to know the details,” he said. “But you may well find it quite upsetting. We believe that yesterday afternoon Miss Dixon was attacked outside the Domestic Crisis centre. She received a hard blow to the head, which would have knocked her instantly unconscious. She was then carried into a narrow alley which runs beside a nearby warehouse.”

“Is that the same..?” I interrupted.

He nodded. “Yes, it’s the same alley in which you claimed that you were attacked. Once there, it looks as if her attacker stripped Miss Dixon and then used a knife to mutilate her body.”

I closed my eyes. “What did he do to her?” I asked, not sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

“He carved the word “JACK” into her stomach.” I felt as if all the air had been sucked out of my lungs. “Then he left her in the alley. Because the wounds were quite deep, and it was a particularly cold night, it was lucky that our search found her when it did.”

“Do you think that it was an attempt to kill her?” I said.

“We’re not sure,” he said. “She could well have died, but if her attacker had really wanted her dead, then surely he would have inflicted a more decisive wound. The pattern so far suggests that he has no qualms about making sure that his victims are dead. On the other hand, it’s possible that he intended to, but something disturbed him.”

“That still doesn’t explain why I’m in the clear,” I said after a moment’s thought. “Rebecca’s told you that Katie and I had split up, and that I was trying to get back together. How come you’re not working on the theory that she didn’t want to, so I went into a mad rage but couldn’t quite bring myself to kill her?”

He smiled broadly. “I probably would have,” he admitted. “But for one small inconvenience. You see, the thing is we’ve had you under surveillance for the last two days. We know exactly where you were every minute of Saturday.”

“What do you mean, you’ve had me under surveillance?” I demanded.

“After you rang up about the note you claimed to have received on Thursday night, the one thing that DI Smith and I were able to agree on was that you should be watched. She believed that by doing so, we might catch the killer when he tried to attack you. I thought that we’d probably get proof that you were the one responsible. Instead, the only thing we’ve learned so far is that you couldn’t possibly be the person who attacked Miss Dixon. And since it seems certain that this attack is linked to the notes you’ve received, and the murders, then I have to conclude that I made a big mistake regarding you. Hence the apology.”

I can’t say that I felt any relief, just anger at the time he had wasted. “So now you trust me,” I said, my voice raised more than I had intended. “But why should I trust you?”

“That’s a fair enough question,” he commented. “You’re wondering about my connection with Jennifer Carter. You certainly caused me a lot of trouble with that one.”

“You’ll understand if I’m not too sympathetic.”

“You were right,” he continued, ignoring my sarcasm. “I was a patient of hers. I hadn’t disclosed it to my colleagues or immediate superiors, because I knew that they wouldn’t let me investigate the case. They’re still fairly wary of letting me investigate cases that I have an emotional involvement with.”

“Because of what you did to Ray Miller?” I asked him.

He nodded in response. His eyes gazed off into the distance, as if staring into the past. “I suppose that you’re entitled to know about that as well. It might help you understand why I treated you the way I did.” A terrible expression passed across his face, and was then gone. His voice was now much calmer, almost as if telling a story to a child.

“I had a sister called Lucy, nearly six years younger than me. She could be a bit of a brat sometimes, like most kid sisters, but she was pretty special as well.” He paused, his eyes looking fixedly ahead, as if his will could conjure her up. “When she was thirteen, someone raped and killed her. I was away at university when it happened. I was studying archaeology, had these great dreams of travelling the world. Three months after her funeral I quit and joined the police.”

“And you found out that Ray Miller was the one who killed her?” I probed. His answer was a bitter laugh.

“If only it was that simple. No, Ray Miller didn’t kill my sister – he was in prison when it happened. I never found out who killed Lucy. But I did know who killed Susie Henderson and Dawn Michaels. It was Ray Miller.”

“So why didn’t you arrest him?” I asked.

“We didn’t have enough evidence to convict him. There wasn’t a trace of him at the scenes, and no witnesses ever came forwards. But we knew he’d done it. When we searched his house we found hundreds of photographs of the pair of them. Photos of them going past his house to and from school, photos of them taken from the bushes in the park, even photos of them in the playground at school. There was no doubt he was obsessed with the pair of them. But the prosecution service said we didn’t stand a chance of getting a conviction.”

“So you decided to take things into your own hands, did you?” I asked accusingly.

He shook his head. “It wasn’t like that. When I went to his house that day I’m not really sure what I was expecting. I probably should have realised that I was far too emotionally involved in the case, because of the similarities with what happened to Lucy. I just knew that I couldn’t let him get away with it. Maybe I thought I could trick him into giving something away, or scare him enough to get the truth out of him. But he was just laughing at me, so pleased with himself. I hit him in frustration, and then found that I couldn’t stop hitting him. I’m not proud of it – it’s something I live with every day.”

“And the investigation decided to cover it up,” I commented.

“They decided that I’d been too involved in the case because of the links with Lucy, and that had pushed me to act in a way that was out of character. The conditions of my keeping my job were a transfer to York, and getting professional help. That’s how Jennifer came into it. And that’s why I got a bit carried away when I thought you were the one who’d killed her like that.”

I was silent for a moment, trying to absorb all the information that he’d given me. His rage felt rather too close to the reaction I’d had to the killings of Jill and Sophie and the attack on Katie.

“Alright,” I said. “Apology accepted. I can see how unlikely my story must have sounded.”

“Thank you.” For the first time ever, he looked rather sheepish. “There’s something else I need to tell you. Adam Sutton has disappeared.”

“What do you mean, disappeared?” I asked in alarm.

“The last time he checked in with his probation officer was the day before his wife and child were murdered,” he said flatly. “There hasn’t been any sign of him since. He appears to have moved out of the bed and breakfast place where he was staying. We’ve also compared his probation report with the date of the other two murders, and it’s possible that he could have travelled to York on the relevant days.”

“So you think that he’s Guignol.”

“It’s certainly a good possibility. If it is him, it’s likely that he will try and get to you soon.”

“What do you suggest I do?” I asked.

“Just try not to panic,” he said calmly. “We’re going to step up our surveillance on you, and we’ll keep a guard on Miss Dixon just in case he decides to try and finish the job. As soon as he tries to get to either of you, we’ll have him. Anyway, that’s all for the moment. I should think that you’d like to get back to your girlfriend.”

As we both got up to our feet, he stretched out his right hand. I hesitated for a moment, and then shook his hand. There didn’t seem to be any point in bearing grudges.

Back at Katie’s side, there didn’t seem to have been any change. Rebecca had managed to pinch a couple of chairs so that we could both sit down while holding on to Katie’s hands, and that’s how we stayed for the next couple of hours. From time to time, one of us would try talking to her in case that helped, but it was a struggle knowing what to say.

It was nearly lunchtime when the miracle happened. The readings on the machine began to jump around, and her eyes were visibly flickering around under the closed eyelids. Then Katie’s bright green eyes opened and focussed, first on Rebecca and then on me. Her mouth formed into a beautiful, if tired, smile. Before anyone could speak, her eyes closed and she was asleep again.

Rebecca ran to get the doctor, and returned with him a few minutes. He spent some time checking and noting down the various readings before he spoke.

“She’s clearly gone off again now. In cases like this, the person often flickers between a conscious and unconscious state for several days. It is a good sign that she’s woken up so soon, though. And you’re both sure that she seemed to recognise you?”

Rebecca and I exchanged a glance for confirmation, and then nodded in unison.

“Well, that’s a very good sign as well. It will probably be several hours know before her next spell of being awake. Why don’t the two of you go and get something to eat, and take a break for a little while?”

To my surprise, once he’d said the words I realised that I felt starving. We went down to the canteen together. They were serving a very tempting smelling roast meal, but neither of us felt happy leaving Katie for long, so we just got a sandwich and a drink to take back with us.

Early in the afternoon, Katie’s parents arrived. They were clearly very fond of her, and very frightened. The news of her improvement lightened their spirits a lot, and they visibly relaxed. They weren’t exactly the circumstances that I’d have chosen to meet my prospective in-laws, but we seemed to get along OK.

We’d all been talking for some time, when a nurse came up to insist that only two visitors were allowed to be by the bed at any time. Since Rebecca and I had been there all the way through, we offered to leave. Katie’s mum and dad were planning to go home at about seven o’clock that evening, so we agreed that we’d come back then. We said our goodbyes to them, and both Rebecca and I got an emotional hug from Katie’s mum.

Back at my flat, I realised what a state I looked, still in the clothes I had worn since Saturday morning. I had a shower and a shave, and changed into some fresh clothes. I tried to distract myself with the afternoon football, but my mind was filled with the sense that Guignol’s game was drawing to a close. Michael Palmer’s confidence had given me some reassurance, but deep down I doubted that he would be trapped so easily.

Katie’s parents had taken my phone number and promised to call if there was any change in her condition, but the phone remained stubbornly silent all afternoon.

By a quarter to seven, I had eaten and was getting ready to go back to the hospital when the silence was broken. I was a little surprised that they were ringing me on my mobile phone, rather than the flat number. Possibly they thought I might already be in the car, heading for the hospital. Hopeful of hearing the news that Katie was now properly awake, I snatched up the phone, and pressed to answer.

The voice that greeted me wasn’t the expected one. It was a hoarse, rasping voice, the words even more shocking.

“Jack, it’s Guignol here. I think it’s time we met.”

Chapter Thirty Eight

The shock kept me silent for a moment, hearing only his shallow breathing. “Adam, is that you?” I demanded as my composure returned. This clearly reduced him to surprised silence as well, but then the voice spoke again.

“I take it that I have your full attention now?”

The anger inside me was threatening to overwhelm. “I’m going to kill you for what you’ve done to Katie and the others,” I hissed.

He laughed, a mocking insincere sound. “So the worm has finally found a bit of backbone has he? You’re welcome to try. That’s why it’s time for us to meet face to face.”

“When and where?”

Again the laugh. “Don’t be so eager to die. There are a few things that we need to get straight. This is between you and me. You don’t contact the police, and you make sure that you’re not followed. I’m going to be watching you, and if I have any suspicion that the police are with you, I’ll just disappear. The next time you’ll hear from me is when I send you your girlfriend’s heart in the post.”