The Smoke In The Photograph (23 page)

Julia directed Pippa the short distance from the Lindum Gallery to her home. The woman driving concentrated on the road, never looking to Julia as they spoke.

'Have you lived here long?' she asked as they wound their way past the Cathedral.

'In the county, about five years,' Julia answered. 'We only moved into the house last weekend.'

'Ah, yes,' Pippa said as if she knew. Julia wondered at this, but then realised that probably everyone at the party knew. She herself had been late to arrive, meaning Fran would have spoken to everyone, probably blaming her lateness on the new house or the move.

They drove the remainder of the way with only Julia giving directions for conversation.

'It's the last driveway on the right,' Julia said. 'The one before that big oak tree.'

Pippa slowed down and signalled. Julia thought for a second she saw Wendy's car parked on the road, but they were pulling into the driveway before she had the chance to check. She saw that all of the lights were still on in the house. She was thankful for that. Even with the company, she did not like the idea of stepping into that house in darkness.

The car containing her police guards still sat in the same place. PC Tyler was stepping out of the car and heading toward them. Pippa slowed down. She looked concerned.

'Just stop here,' Julia told her, and Pippa brought the car to a stop.

Though both women got out of the car at the same time, Pippa hung back as Julia walked over to Tyler.

'Hi. I'm back early,' she said as she reached him.

'Did you have a good time?'

'Not bad. Bit boring these dos, but, at least the rain’s slowing down.'

'I think there will be more,' Tyler said, looking up at the sky. 'This is just the calm before the storm.'

Julia laughed.

'Wow, such an optimist.’

She noticed him glancing behind her, towards Pippa. Julia turned and pointed to her.

'This is Miss Johansen. She has come to look at some of my paintings.'

Tyler nodded to Pippa, who waved back.

'If you need us you know where we are. Just call out and we'll come running.’

'Thank you,' Julia said.

'Your husband is home by the way,' Tyler said. 'DCI Fluting brought him back earlier.'

'Oh, great,' Julia said, trying to cover up her unease at this. At least Pippa was here. She doubted Steven would want to discuss things in front of a stranger. That would buy Julia time to think about how she felt.

Julia walked back over to Pippa, who was still standing near the car.

'Come on, let's get inside,' Julia said, pointing towards the house. Pippa smiled and started walking with her. She glanced over her shoulder at Tyler.

'What's with all the police?' she asked.

Julia wondered how she knew they were police, but then she supposed it was obvious. After all, who else would be sitting outside someone’s house all night except a stalker, and people generally didn't go over and have polite conversations with their stalkers.

'It's just a precaution,' Julia said, waving it off. 'Just had a few threats.'

'It must make you feel better them being out here,' she said.

'Yes, it's quite reassuring knowing that no one will be able to get in the house.'

They arrived at the door and Julia unlocked it. They stepped inside. As always, the house felt cool, but at least the lights made her feel more comfortable.

Pippa stood looking around the entrance hall, and up the large staircase. Julia poked her head into  each of the downstairs rooms. There was no sign of Steven.

'It's a lovely house,' Pippa said. 'You live alone?'

'No. My husband must be in bed. He's had a…' she paused, not wanting to say too much, 'long day. Would you like a coffee?'

'Yes, thank you.’

Julia led her to the kitchen

Sam knocked on the door of the apartment on Colby Street. He checked the number on the door against the address Steven Draper had written down: 66A. It was the correct address. There was no answer from inside. Ariel must have gone out.

Branning tried the door. It started to open. She looked at Sam who quickly pulled the door closed.

'We don't have a search warrant,' he said.

'I know, sir,' the young officer said. 'But, what if Draper was lying? What if this poor woman is another victim? What if she's dead in there?'

Her words conjured up an image in Sam's mind. He saw Ariel lying on the floor, butchered in the same manner as all of the other Ripper victims.

'I think Draper is innocent,' Sam said.

'Are you sure though, sir?' Branning said. 'This door is open. It's not like we are breaking and entering. I think we ought to just take a quick look. If she's not in there, then we leave.'

Sam was well known as a detective who played by the rules. He had seen firsthand what had happened to detectives who thought they were above the law. On the other hand, though, his deadline to crack the Ripper case was looming. If there was even the most remote chance that Draper was the killer he had been hunting all of these years, he should check it out.

'Fuck it,' Sam said, grabbing the door handle and pushing the door open.

There were no lights on inside, but he soon found the switch beside the door.

'Hello?' he called in to the apartment. 'Miss Phillips? Are you home?'

He waited for a reply, but none came. He looked at Branning.

'This never happened,' he said firmly as he stepped through the door. The young officer nodded and followed.

The first door off the long hallway led to a living room. It was neat, really neat. The apartment seemed overly silent, as if their every foot step was disturbing the atmosphere of the place. It made Sam uneasy.

Sam's phone rang and vibrated in his pocket, making him stop dead. He felt his heart lurch into his throat. Branning let out a little gasp of surprise.

Sam groped into his jacket for the phone. He pulled it out and saw that it was Alex Parker calling. He answered the phone.

'Hello Alex,' he said. 'What's up?'

'Tes....ts back… that…pel… aint… it's… ish,' Alex said; the signal was terrible and the line so broken up that Sam could make no sense of it. He looked at the screen of his phone and saw he had no reception bars.

'Wait here,' he said to Branning and wandered back outside.

He crossed the road and saw two bars appear on the screen.

'Are you still there, Alex?' he asked.

'Yes,' he replied.

'Didn't catch that. Terrible signal.'

'I said we got the test results back from the red mark found on the scalpel. It's not paint. It's fucking nail varnish.'

Sam thanked him for the call and ran back across the road. When he re-entered Ariel's apartment, Branning wasn't in the living room.

'Branning?' he called out. She emerged from a door at the far end of the hallway.

'You need to see this, sir.’

Sam felt sick to his stomach. Branning had been right; Draper was the killer, and Ariel was dead. He walked down to Branning.

'That was Alex Parker in forensics. The stain on the scalpel was nail varnish, not paint.'

'I think it's her, sir,' Branning said as he reached her. 'I think she's the Ripper.'

Sam thought this was a ridiculous statement. Just because the mark was nail varnish didn't mean the killer was a woman. It could have been from one of the victims. Even if the Ripper was a woman, why would it be Ariel?

Then he stepped into the room. It was a spare bedroom he guessed. One wall was plastered with photographs of him taken without his knowledge. Others were of both Doctor and Mrs Draper.

She had been following them all. Why? He looked down at the desk. On it sat a bottle of red nail varnish. He saw a piece of paper next to it. Written on it was the address of the Lindum Gallery where Mrs Draper was showing her work.

'What kind of a woman could do this?' he said out loud. 'What kind of woman could do these things to another woman?'

Branning walked up to him, and looked him in the eye.

'A jealous one, sir.’

Tyler sat in the driver's seat of the car watching the house. Addle had put the passenger seat back and was now snoring next to him.

They had agreed that he would take the first watch. In an hour he would wake Addle and they would do a perimeter check, and then it would be his turn to sleep for a while.

Addle could be annoying, that was true. He was opinionated and often spoke without thinking. Despite this, the job hadn't been so boring when he had been awake.

Now all Tyler had for company were his own thoughts and the house lit up in front of him. Still, it was part of the job, and he was honoured to have been chosen for the duty.

The rain began to fall again, making a gentle pitter-patter on the roof.

The radio squawked into life. Addle woke with a start.

'Addle, Tyler. Pick up. Over,' DCI Fluting's voice crackled through the radio.

Addle picked it up and pressed the button to talk.

'Addle here, sir. Over.’

'Is Mrs Draper there? Over,' Fluting asked.

'Yes, sir,' Addle replied. 'She got back about thirty minutes ago. Over.'

'Right, listen to me. The suspect is a woman. I repeat, the Ripper is a woman. Late twenties, slim, dark hair in a bob. Keep your eyes peeled. Over.'

Addle looked at Tyler. Tyler felt his heart sink. DCI Fluting had just described the woman Mrs Draper had brought back with her.

'Oh shit,' Addle said into the radio, then realised what he had done. 'Sorry, sir, it's just that Mrs Draper came home with a woman fitting that description. She's in the house with her now. Over.'

'Damn it!' Fluting shouted. 'Get in the house now. We're on our way. Over.'

'Yes, sir,' Addle said.

He dropped the radio without signing off properly. He and jumped out of the car, and Tyler followed.

Julia had led Pippa up to the attic and walked her over to the paintings. The other woman viewed them intently, for some time without speaking. She inspected every detail. When she looked at the painting of the house and saw the woman, Helen Swanson, screaming at the window, a smile crossed her face. Something about it made her uneasy. Not a single person who had seen this painting so far had smiled at that.

Julia looked around the room, not wanting to watch Pippa any longer. She noticed the door to the darkroom was ajar.

'Excuse me a moment.’

'It's fine,' she said. 'Wonderful work.'

'Thank you,' Julia said before crossing the attic to the darkroom. She was about to shut the door when she felt a cool draught blow across the back of her neck. It was strong enough to move her hair. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise in response.

Her first thought was that the window had flown open again. However, when she looked across she could see it was still nailed shut.

She was convinced she had felt it. She looked over at Pippa, who was still staring at the paintings.

She went to close the darkroom door once more, and this time an icy cold gust blew so hard on her back she thought it might move her.

Helen. It had to be Helen. The poor woman was trying to tell her something. Did she want her to look in the darkroom? It seemed the most feasible answer.

Julia flicked the switch on the outside of the darkroom and saw light emerge from the small amount that the door was open. She pushed it further.

There on the floor lay her husband. He was bound at the feet and wrists with cable ties. He was gagged. He was still, and lying in a pool of blood.  He looked pale. He looked dead.

'Oh my God, Steven!' Julia yelled as she rushed to his side. She knelt down, feeling the thick blood soaking into her dress.

She removed his gag and heard faint, rasping breaths, like the ones that elderly people in nursing homes made just before they left this world behind.

There was a loud hammering sound from downstairs. She turned to look in that direction.

'Mrs Draper. Open up!' Tyler shouted from outside, though his voice was faint at this distance.

Julia got up and began to run for the door. As she did Pippa came out of nowhere and clotheslined her, knocking her to the floor.

Julia struggled to get up, but before she could, Pippa was on top of her. The other woman gripped each side of Julia's head with furious strength and tried to lift it to bang it back down on the floor.

If she succeeded, Julia would undoubtedly lose consciousness. Her only option was to strike then. Julia summoned all of her strength and punched Pippa in the face. The impact was brutal, and Julia felt something crunch under her fist.

Pippa fell off her backwards, clutching her nose which had instantly begun to spurt blood in geyser like jets.

Julia rolled onto her front and scrambled to come up. The blood from Pippa's nose had made the wooden floor like an oil slick, and she found it hard to find any purchase.

As she managed to get to her feet, she felt a hard blow to the middle of her back that sent her back to the floor. She rolled onto her back and saw Pippa standing over her. Her eyes burned with hate, and the blood from her nose spread across her maniacally-grinning mouth. A picture of insanity. She held in her hand a shining scalpel.