The Ladykiller (24 page)

Elaine had been kissed until her lips were sore and her lipstick just a faded memory. She had not enjoyed herself so much in all her married life. Normally when they were invited to a party George never wanted to go. Elaine had therefore always declined. Since her newfound freedom, however, she had decided that she would get as much out of life as she could. With or if possible without George. And tonight had been her watershed. She had been danced off her feet and had loved every second of it.

She looked around the crowded room for her best friend, Margaret Forrester, and smiled as she saw her sitting on her husband’s lap. Elaine wished she could have a marriage like that. Where everything was just plain and simple, laughing and joking the norm. Her face fell as she thought about her life with George. Still, they were going to Florida and she was going to Spain, so at least this year she had something to look forward to. And this party looked as if it could go on for hours yet!

‘Would you like to dance?’ Elaine turned to face the man who had spoken. He was about fifty-five and fat, but jolly with it. She had already danced with him three times. Someone had put on a Roy Orbison album and she slipped into the man’s arms to the strains of ‘Crying’. She loved Roy Orbison, and she loved all the attention.

‘I’m ever so sorry, but I’ve forgotten your name.’

The man grinned, showing pristine but ill-fitting dentures. ‘It’s Hector . . . Hector Henderson. And you’re the lovely Elaine.’

She felt a tingle going down her spine that could have been romance or could just as well have been the drink. Whatever it was, she liked it.

George was pushed from her mind as they took to the tiny space allocated for dancing in Margaret Forrester’s front room.

Joey Meeson watched as Lizzy danced, her body undulating to the thumping rhythm of the acid house music. About an hour earlier they had each dropped an Ecstasy tab. He could feel himself ‘coming up’ now. Everything around him had taken on a rosy hue and he felt excitement in his guts. Lizzy’s hair was flying around her head as she danced faster and faster. Since he had been going with her he had been having a great time. No one would think her mother was an Old Bill. Lizzy wanted to try everything and she did it in style.

Joanie also watched her. Joanie was cold and fed up. She glanced at her watch and sighed. She was supposed to be sleeping at Lizzy’s house tonight and Lizzy was supposed to be staying over at hers. That meant they had to stay out all night whether she liked it or not. Lately Lizzy was getting on her nerves. All she was interested in was getting out and getting laid.

A black boy with extensions on his hair walked over to her and asked her to dance. Joanie bucked up. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be such a cop-out after all . . .

Lizzy went over to Joey and put her hand on his arm.

‘Enjoying yourself, Liz?’

‘Oh, it’s great. Really great. Look at the lights!’

To Lizzy, with her heightened awareness, the lights were a swimming halo of blues and red.

‘How about we go to my car for a while?’

Lizzy giggled. ‘OK.’

She was so far gone that Joey had to help her walk across the field to where he had parked. As they made their way through the throng of people, boys and girls laughed and joked with them. One boy, dressed like a refugee from Woodstock, was spinning around in circles. His hair was braided with flowers and he smoked a large joint. Lizzy and Joey laughed at him. The further they got from the rave the more bodies they had to step over. Some were making out; others were just tripping out of their skulls, lost in their own world.

Joey opened the Sierra and they both got in the back. He kissed her hard, pushing his tongue down her throat.

‘Happy New Year, Lizzy.’

She looked up, trying to focus on his brown eyes.

‘Happy New Year, Joey.’ He slipped his hand up her top and she giggled.

‘One moment, please, I’ve got a New Year’s present for you.’

‘What’s that?’ Joey was smiling in the darkness.

Then he felt his trousers being undone and her dark head slipped down on to his lap.

‘Oh, Lizzy. Happy New Year.’

She was wild all right, and he loved it.

George decided to bury the girl’s body in the gravel. Let them look for this one. Let the police earn their bloody money for once. He covered her over and ran the torch around the dirt, checking that he had not left any incriminating clues. Then he walked backwards, scraping the gravel with the side of his boot. He was certainly not going to do their job for them. Oh, no.

He scrambled up the side of the quarry to his car. The heavy thump of acid house music was everywhere. George frowned as he put his mask neatly in the brown carrier bag before driving home.

The youngsters today were like animals. What sort of parents would allow their daughter out until this time of night? There was no decency in the world any more. The family was a thing of the past. In this self-righteous mood he drove home.

Well, he would make them all sit up and take notice. 1990 was going to be his year. He would make all the parents and husbands in Grantley frightened. Then they might take a bit more care instead of allowing young girls to roam the streets like common prostitutes!

A man had to be in charge. It was a man’s duty. And George Markham had never shirked his duty.

He was back home, showered, changed and in bed by eleven forty-five. Elaine tripped in at four thirty and George was well and truly asleep. She felt a moment’s remorse as she looked down at his sleeping face. Then she thought of Hector and smiled. Hector Henderson. She said the name to herself a few times, enjoying the feeling it created. A good strong name. Hector Henderson. He had given her his phone number!

She giggled into her pillow, clenching her fists in excitement. She would ring him in the week.

Finally, Elaine slept.

Chapter Eleven

‘How long has she been missing?’

‘Since last night. Her mother’s going out of her mind with worry, and I can’t say I blame her, can you? They’ve tried all her friends. Her father had dropped her off at her best friend’s house . . .’

Kate listened attentively to Amanda Dawkins.

‘And she’s never stayed out before? Has she got a boyfriend?’

‘No to both questions, Kate. The girl seems to be the perfect daughter. Always rang if she was going to be late, always let them know exactly where she was. I get the impression from this friend, Samantha Jewson, that Louise was looked down on because of it. I think this Samantha fancies herself as a bit of a girl, know what I mean?’

‘Well, we’ll get the cars to keep an eye out for her, but I have an awful feeling in my gut that she is not coming home. Not alive, anyway.

‘Listen, let the papers know about it, ask if any of the readers can remember seeing her. After she was at Samantha Jewson’s house, she seems to have disappeared. Someone must have seen her. What’s happening with the door-to-door? Anything suspicious in that department?’

‘Not really, there are eighty uniforms on the job. Each has been allocated a certain number of streets, but like everything else it takes time. We had a couple of suspicious characters but their alibis are watertight. Oh, before I forget, we’ve received all the names of sex pests, perverts and fully fledged rapists. We’re trying to locate each and every one of them. Most of the uniforms and CID from all over the county are offering to work in their spare time.’

‘We could do with them as well. Right then, I think the best thing we can do now is try and calm Louise Butler’s parents. If she was at a rave, how come we haven’t had anything from the patrol cars about it?’

Amanda breathed out heavily.

‘There were no patrol cars there.’

Kate looked aghast.

‘You’re joking! On the news this morning it said that over eight hundred kids turned up!’

‘I know. There’s more than one red face in the mobile division this morning, believe me. The old man was like a raving lunatic, apparently.’

‘And can you blame him? Jesus wept! If we’re not careful we’ll have the heavy mob down here offering to hold our hands!

‘Well, I’d better get in to see Ratchette. Do me a favour would you? Find me a decent cup of coffee.’

Amanda nodded.

Kate made her way to the Superintendent’s office, her mind whirling. No mobile units at a rave? It was bloody laughable. The barn where it was held was owned by a local farmer, John Ellis, and if Kate knew anything about it, he had known exactly what was going on. He would sell his own mother for a profit. She knocked on Ratchette’s door.

‘Hello, sir.’

‘Ah, Kate. Bad business this. What do you think?’

‘In all honesty, sir, I don’t think Louise Butler’s coming home. It’s just a case of looking for the body really. Once we ascertain her movements, we’ll know more. Someone somewhere must have seen her.’

‘True. Now listen carefully. I’ve had the big boys on to me today. They’re sending a Chief Inspector over to work with you. I must stress that it’s to work
with
you, OK? He’s a good man, you’ve probably heard of him. Caitlin.’

Kate groaned. Oh, please, not Kenneth Caitlin!

Ratchette saw her face and snapped at her: ‘Look, Kate, whether you like it or not, the man’s coming. You are a Detective Inspector, I am a Superintendent. You take your orders from me and I take mine from the Chief Constable. Just try and work with him. Whatever his reputation, he gets results.’

Kate looked at the floor. Her heart had sunk down into her shoes.

‘All right?’ Ratchette’s voice was still hard.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. Now before he arrives, have you any thoughts on this that you want to talk to me about?’

‘Actually, yes. In 1984 at Enderby in Leicester two young girls were raped and murdered. There was nothing to go on at all. The police took blood samples from just about every male in the vicinity. The only thing we’ve got here is the DNA of the murderer. I think, if nothing else, we should try and eliminate as many men as possible by DNA testing in the area.’

Ratchette’s wrinkled face was incredulous.

‘You’re joking. Do you know how much that would cost?’

‘A little over half a million pounds. I know it will be expensive, but for Christ’s sake we’re dealing with a maniac.’

‘You realise that some men won’t allow us to take their blood?’

‘Then they will immediately be under suspicion.’ Ratchette shook his head.

‘I don’t know, Kate. This is something I shall have to discuss with the Chief Constable. It’s already going out on this month’s
Crimewatch
. Hopefully someone will have their memory jogged. The man isn’t invisible, he must have been seen.’

‘Well, up till now, sir, he’s done a pretty good job of eluding us.’

‘Leave it with me. Caitlin will be here in about an hour. Make him welcome, won’t you?’

The fact that the Superintendent could not look her in the eye was not lost on Kate.

‘Of course, sir. Now if there’s nothing else?’ When he didn’t answer, she rose from her seat and walked from the room, giving the door a satisfying slam as she closed it. Bloody Caitlin! Bloody hell!

Elaine had a hangover and the shrill ringing of the telephone made her head ache even more. She heard George pick it up.

They did not get many phone calls and any other time she would have rushed out into the hall to see who it was. Today though she just wanted to curl up and die. Her mouth felt as dry as a bone and her eyes were closed against the intrusive light. She wished George would hurry up with her cup of tea.

‘Hello?’ His voice was quiet. Who could be ringing them? The only people to phone were Joseph and Lily, and now and again a friend of Elaine’s from work.

‘Hello? Mr Markham?’ The voice was rough and coarse.

‘Speaking.’ George was bewildered.

‘This is Anthony Jones from Sexplosion in Soho. You asked me to give you a ring like.’

George felt his heart begin to beat a tattoo against his ribs. He dropped his voice.

‘I said I would ring you. How did you get my number?’

He heard the man laugh.

‘You paid by Barclaycard, remember? I got your address from your driving licence - you gave it as further proof of your identity. I got your number from inquiries like. Listen, mate, I wouldn’t drop you in it. If your wife had answered I would have given her a load of old cods. Said I was selling double glazing or something. So calm down, for Gawd’s sake.’

‘What do you want?’

‘What do you think? I’ve got some new films in and they are
hot
.’

Despite his fear, George felt a tiny shiver of excitement.

‘These are from Thailand, and you know what those chinky birds are like, don’t ya?’ The man chuckled and the action caused him to start coughing. George held the phone away from his ear as the man’s phlegmy voice carried on: ‘This new film makes the last one I sold you look like Noddy and Big Ears in Toytown!’

‘How much?’

‘Three hundred smackers.’

The man was aware that George was a bit too quiet at the other end of the phone and hurried on, ‘But to you, two-fifty, being as how you’re a regular customer like.’