Strange Blood (27 page)

Chapter 20

Megan ran out to the prison car park, punching out Dave Todd's number as soon as she got a signal. As she waited for it to answer she spread out the newspaper on the bonnet of her car. A sentence in quotation marks jumped out at her: ‘All she was wearing was a pair of red stilettos and a smile.'
Red shoes.
A terrifying thought occurred to her. Ceri's address was there too. 23 Church Terrace, Stockhall.

‘Dave Todd.' His voice startled her.

‘Dave,' she began, her voice shaking. ‘I've found something in Nick Stern's room. It's a pentagram drawn on a newspaper – next to an article about my sister.'

She heard him take a breath. ‘Right,' he said, his voice even. ‘I'm with Fitzsimmons at the moment, in the manager's office. I'll find out what's happening at the café and get back to you.'

As soon as he'd gone she rang Ceri's number. It was engaged. Megan jumped into the car. She had to warn her sister. Perspiration dripped down the back of her neck as she sped along the country lane that led to the Wolverhampton road. She punched the redial button on her phone. This time she got the answerphone. ‘Oh God, Ceri,' she said aloud, ‘why aren't you picking up?'

As she neared the turn-off for Stockhall her phone rang out. ‘Ceri?' It was Dave Todd.

‘Listen, Megan, Stern's not at the café.' She could hear something very like panic in his voice. ‘They said he'd got an appointment with his probation officer, but we've just phoned the guy and Stern didn't show.'

Megan felt sick. What if he was at Ceri's?

‘Where are you now?' Todd asked.

‘I'm on my way to my sister's. She's not answering her phone, Dave – I'm really worried.'

‘Okay, I'm coming,' he said. ‘Whatever you do, don't go inside on your own.'

A minute later she was pulling up outside Ceri's house. Her sister's yellow Peugeot was in the drive. She looked up and down the road. No sign of Neil's Volvo. She tried Ceri's number again. Still the answerphone. Megan got out of the car. Why would she not answer when she was clearly at home? She walked up the path to the front door. Dave had told her to wait for him, but how could she? What if Stern was in there? A few more minutes could be the difference between life and death for Ceri.

She had the front door key in her hand and as she reached for the lock she caught sight of something sticking out of the bushes at the side of the house. It was the handlebar of a bike. She stared at it. Was it the one she had seen before? Could it possibly be Justin inside the house with her sister? She hovered on the doorstep, the key inches from the lock, trying to make sense of it. Would Ceri really have invited Justin to the house with Neil due back any minute? She slid the key into the lock and inched the door open. Her instinct was to call her sister's name, but she stopped herself. Instead she listened. The house was completely silent. She stepped inside, leaving the door open for ease of escape. Then she heard a sound that froze her blood. A muffled sound, like someone trying to talk with a mouthful of food. She glanced around for something to use as a weapon. There was a bronze Art Deco statuette on the hall table. She picked it up, hiding it behind her back.

As she crept up the stairs she heard the sound again. It occurred to her that her imagination might be playing tricks on her; that what she could hear was the sound of her sister and Justin making love. She paused halfway up the staircase. Her sister's bedroom was directly opposite the top step. If the door was open she would be able to see inside; creep away without them seeing if she had got it wrong.

Her hand shook as she grasped the banister rail, trying to distribute her weight in case the stairs creaked. As her eyes drew level with the top step she saw that the door was wide open. Ceri was crouching on the floor, her back to Megan. Beside her was one of the red stiletto shoes she had worn for Justin. And nearer to the bed were a pair of legs in blue jeans; someone standing by Ceri. As Megan climbed the next step she saw at a glance it was not Justin. He was shorter and stockier and his dark brown hair was cropped close to his head. He was leaning over Ceri, who was groping behind her for the red shoe. As his hand moved something glinted in the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. It was the blade of a knife.

Megan's hand tightened on the bronze statuette. What should she do? If she stormed in there and lunged at him he would stab Ceri. She had to distract him; confuse him. Keep him talking until … what?

The decision was taken away from her as he wheeled round, as if sensing her presence. Their eyes locked. For a second no one moved.
His name,
a voice inside her head whispered.
Say his name.

‘Nick?'

The blue eyes flickered with surprise, then narrowed as he recognised her. ‘So you've come for your sister?' He sounded younger than thirty-seven. There was a hint of a Wolverhampton accent. He cocked his head on one side. ‘Well, she's not here.'

Megan stared at the figure on the floor. ‘Ceri?' The woman's head turned with a muffled grunt. Megan could see that it was her sister's profile. There was white cloth poking out between her lips. Suddenly it dawned on her. To him she was not Ceri. She had become the woman he hated; the one he wanted to kill. That was why he was making her sister put on the red shoes. To become that woman she
had
to be wearing the red shoes.

‘What's her name, Nick?' Megan took a step towards the bedroom door.

‘Nicky.' He brought the knife up against Ceri's throat. ‘She looks like Dorothy, but her name's Nicky.'

‘Nicky.' Megan nodded slowly, frantically trying to work out what was going on inside his head.

‘You don't know what I'm talking about do you?' He grabbed Ceri by the hair as she tried to edge away from the knife. ‘People like you – psychologists!' He grunted. ‘Everyone's always needling me; trying to find out what I'm about!'

‘I know you like red shoes, Nick.' Megan took another step towards him. As she did so she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. It was Dave Todd. He was on the half-landing below her.

‘Don't come any closer!' Stern's voice rang out. Megan froze. He had raised the knife above her sister's chest. ‘And drop that!' He jerked his head at the statuette. Megan let it go and it landed with a thud on the pale blue carpet. ‘Now get up,' he screamed at Ceri, kicking at her feet in their red shoes. ‘Get on the bed!'

Megan knew she had to get further into the bedroom; do something that would lead Stern's eye away from the door so that Dave Todd could get at him without being seen. ‘Nick, please,' she cried out, ‘I want to help you!'

‘I told you to stay where you are!' His eyes were fixed on her as he pushed Ceri onto the bed.

‘Let
me
wear the red shoes,' she pleaded, stretching out her hand
‘I'm
Nicky, not
her!
' He stared at her, transfixed, as she moved slowly round the bed. ‘Tell her to take the shoes off, Nick,' she said softly. ‘I want them. They're for me.'

‘Take them off!' He pressed the flat of the knife against Ceri's neck and she kicked off the shoes. Megan bent to pick them up, moving to the opposite side of the bed as she put them on. Lifting her right leg onto the bed she extended her foot, pointing her toe like a ballet dancer. ‘Look at me, Nick,' she whispered. ‘Doesn't my foot look beautiful in this shoe?' She looked at him. His eyes were full of horrified fascination, like a child watching snakes in a zoo. ‘Does it make me look like Dorothy?' Megan taunted him, willing him to move towards her. ‘Will you tell me who she is?'

With a howl of rage he lunged at her, but Todd was on him, knocking the knife from his hand as he rugby-tackled him to the floor.

*   *   *

The house was swarming with police officers. The place had been surrounded when Dave Todd broke the rules to go in, unarmed. Megan was glad she hadn't known that. She wasn't sure she'd have been quite so bold if she'd realised Dave didn't have a gun.

She could see him now through the open bedroom window. He and two other officers were bundling Stern into a waiting squad car. As she watched she caught sight of Neil. From the look on his face, he had just arrived. What a thing to come home to, she thought grimly.

Ceri was sobbing uncontrollably and wouldn't move from the bed. Neither Megan nor the woman police officer sitting next to her had been able to calm her. Megan stroked her sister's hair. What Ceri had been through in the past few days was enough to turn anyone into a basket case.

‘I'll go and get her some tea or brandy or something,' Megan said when Dave came back into the room. He followed her downstairs.

‘What about you?' he said, shutting the kitchen door behind him. ‘Are
you
all right?'

‘I'm fine.' Her fingers trembled as she flicked the switch on the kettle and she felt his hand on her shoulder. She wheeled round and he took his hand away. ‘You were very brave up there.' She could see her eyes reflected in his glasses. For a moment neither of them spoke.

‘No, you were the hero.' She broke away, reaching for mugs on the shelf above the microwave. The kitchen door opened and a man in white overalls appeared.

‘Could you come and talk to the SOCOs, Dave?'

‘I'll catch you later, okay?' Todd's expression made her crumple inside. It reminded her of the way Patrick had looked at her when he was a student and she was his supervisor.

As Todd went through the door Megan caught sight of Neil. He was standing in the hallway, his mouth open and a dazed expression in his eyes. He looked completely out of his depth. She left the tea and ran to help. But before she could get to him he turned towards the stairs. Ceri was stumbling down them, clinging to the banister rail for support. Before she reached the last step she fell into his arms.

There was nothing Megan could do but leave them to it. The trauma that Ceri had been through had obviously turned her feelings about Neil on their head. It was something they were going to have to talk through themselves and her presence was not going to help matters.

She blinked as she walked through the front door into the bright sunshine. The police had sealed off the road and beyond the striped tape groups of curious neighbours had gathered. She spotted a TV camera mounted on a tripod. Delva was standing close by. She looked as if she was interviewing somebody, but her height prevented Megan from seeing who it was. Moving down the path, Megan drew closer to the camera. It was Steve Foy. She could hear his voice.

‘I'm very pleased it's ended without further casualties,' he was saying. ‘And it certainly shows the value of good police work.'

As Megan stepped behind the camera she caught Delva's eye. Delva raised her eyebrow half an inch. Megan shook her head, a wry smile on her face.

*   *   *

The next morning Delva called at Megan's house, minus the cameraman.

‘I just came to see how you are,' she laughed. ‘I
would
like to do a background piece in a few months' time, though, when the case comes to court. And don't worry, I'll make sure you get the credit you deserve for catching the bastard.' She leaned forward in her seat as Megan poured coffee. ‘Why did he do it? I heard a copper muttering something about red shoes…'

Megan nodded slowly. ‘It's a really bizarre story.' And it was a story she was safe to tell. She knew Delva was legally bound not to report a word of it until Stern had entered his plea of guilty to all three murders.

She told Delva what Stern had told the police last night at Tipton Street station. About the mother who had wanted a girl so desperately she had made him wear dresses as a child and told people his name was Nicky. About the Christmas when she had dressed him up to look like Dorothy from
The Wizard of Oz
and told him he was going to be famous, just like Judy Garland. And about the beating he received when his father discovered the two of them, all rigged out, watching the film.

‘That was where the obsession with red shoes came from,' Megan explained. ‘All through adulthood he'd tried to cultivate a macho image. But at university he got into drugs and ended up a heroin addict. He turned to burglary to fund his habit and ended up in prison. That made him worse.' She paused to take a sip of coffee. ‘He was afraid of ‘turning gay', as he put it. In prison he developed a desperate urge to crush the female persona his mother had foisted on him as a child.' She shook her head. ‘From what I can gather the people he was mixing with in jail encouraged him in this fantasy of attacking women. He conned everyone in the system into believing he was a model prisoner, but when he got out on day-release this rage he'd been building up just boiled over.'

‘Was that why the women were stabbed so many times?' Delva's cup was perched halfway between the table and her mouth. She had been hanging on Megan's every word.

‘I think so,' Megan replied. ‘There's a term for that kind of frenzied attack. They call it overkill.'

‘So by stabbing the women in red shoes he was trying to kill the little girl his mother had tried to turn him into?'

Megan nodded.

‘But all this black magic stuff,' Delva frowned. ‘Where the hell did that come from?'

‘He carved a pentagram on his victim's heads.'

Delva's jaw dropped. ‘My God! I knew there was something really horrible going on that no one would talk about, but…' she broke off, her hand across her mouth.

‘I know.' Megan shrugged. ‘It completely threw the police. I thought it might have been done deliberately to make it look like some kind of black magic ritual. But as it turned out, we were both wrong.'

‘What was it, then?'