Clever Deception Read online

  Terry fell against the wall, the air knocked out of him by the offhanded way the inspector had delivered the news.

  “Maybe we should go inside, Terry?” Alex said quickly, reaching for the man’s arm and turning him around to face the hallway. She shot her commanding officer a glare. He would reprimand her for being insubordinate later, but it was worth the risk. Terry was suffering and needed someone to show him an ounce of compassion. She steered him into the lounge and sat him down on the sofa.

  He smiled up at her, then asked, “Where? How?”

  The inspector sat down on the easy chair opposite Terry. “In the forest, at Winchcombe. The pathologist is dealing with her body now.”

  Alex cringed again at Jordan’s insensitivity. She had to jump in and say something. “Terry, we all know what this guy is capable of. Please, just try and remember Gail the way she was.”

  Terry turned swiftly to face her. “Jesus, is she really that bad?” He buried his head in his hands and sobbed openly.

  Jordan was clearly incensed with Alex’s blatant disregard of his orders for her to remain quiet.

  She shrivelled beneath his angry stare.

  “Look, Terry, there’s no point dwelling on it now. The pathologist has advised against you going down there to see her, and I have to say I’m inclined to agree with him. For your boys’ sake, I’d leave well alone, mate.”

  Alex felt like stamping her foot and slapping the DI round the head.

  Terry had stopped reacting to what either of them said, caught up in his grief and the realisation of what he’d lost.

  “Would you like me to look after the boys, Terry?” Alex asked. “Make sure they don’t come in here and see you like this?”

  Terry looked up at her, his pain and sorrow evident in his eyes. “I’ll deal with them in a minute. As for them not seeing me like this, they’re going to have to get used to that, Sergeant. I cannot—no, I will not switch off my grief so I don’t upset them. They have a right to know that their beautiful mother has left this hateful world of ours. Of course I won’t tell them the how part, because no sane person should be subjected to what this vile man is capable of doing to another human being.” His voice cracked, and he buried his head in his hands again. “My God, to think I’ll never hold my Gail in my arms again or see her face on the pillow next to me at night, is far more than I can comprehend at the moment.”

  “We will get the bastard, Terry. You have my word on that, son,” Jordan said, fidgeting in his chair.

  Terry’s head jerked up, and he looked him straight in the eye. “Tell me, DI Jordan, did you tell the first victim’s family that, too? What about the second, third, fourth, and fifth family?” His voice rose and became angrier with each mention of the victims. “What about the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth? Man, you should have this speech embedded in your brain by now.”

  Jordan raised his finger. “Now, there’s no call for sarcasm, son. I’m sorry for your loss, but as your senior officer, I’ll ask you to treat me with respect, all the same.”

  Alex shook her head in disgust. “Terry, we’re going to go now. If you need anything from us, please let us know. You have my word that we will find this killer and quickly. He can’t be allowed to keep killing people like this. I’m sorry for your loss, however for your children’s sake, I’m asking you to take a step back from the anger you’re feeling right now and to put them first.”

  Terry glanced up at her again and nodded. “They are my priority, Sergeant, always. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave so I can be allowed to grieve in peace.” He walked into the kitchen.

  Alex heard mumbled voices before the kids’ screams as she followed Jordan out of the house.

  Once outside, Jordan jabbed his finger in Alex’s chest. “You’ll do that once too often, Fox. It’s not too late for me to tear up that excellent yearly appraisal I gave you last week. The damn thing is still sitting in my in-tray, awaiting my signature.”

  “Sorry, sir, the man had the right to know that not everyone shared your insensitivity to his grief.”

  DI Jordan turned on his heel and marched towards his car, leaving Alex to chew her lip and nibble at her tongue. I need to learn how to control what I say when he’s around. He’s an arse who will be found out soon enough, without me sticking my oar in.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Alex’s working day ended at around seven that evening, thanks mainly to DI Jordan finding dozens of little jobs for her to do during the day—anything to keep her out of his hair and away from what she really needed to be doing. He knew she was eager to get on with trying to find evidence on Gail Dawson’s case.

  The first thing she did upon arriving at her one-bedroom flat was pour herself a large glass of red wine from the bottle she’d picked up at the off-licence on the way home. Then she went through to her tiny bathroom to run a bath, intending to spend at least an hour in the tub, washing the smell of the scene out of her pores.

  Alex debated whether she was truly cut out to do her job any more, with the restrictions Jordan had imposed on her. She was no one’s lackey—she was an intelligent woman with an eye for delving deep into cases her male colleagues often couldn’t solve. All they seemed keen on was having a laugh at most of the female officers’ expense down at the station.

  Alex stripped off her smelly clothes, shoved them in the linen basket sitting in the small hallway, grabbed her glass of wine and her phone, and slipped into the luxuriously lavender-scented bubbles. She closed her eyes as she physically and mentally relaxed for the first time since she’d risen that morning. Ten minutes into her soak, her mobile rang. She dried her hands on the towel beside her, flipped open the cover, and smiled when her sister’s name filled the tiny screen. “Hey, sis, how’s it going?”

  “Thought I’d better ring you before I head out for the evening. How are you holding up, hon? I’ve just seen the news; I take it your notorious serial killer has struck again?”

  “Yeah, it’s been a bitch of a day. Jordan dragged me along to tell the husband, just so he had a witness to what an insensitive arse he really is. I’m in the tub now, trying to relax and rid myself of the stench at the crime scene. Where are you going tonight?”

  “A few of us are off to the theatre to see Les Mis. I didn’t bother asking you to come because I know how you feel about musicals.”

  Alex chuckled. She found musicals a total waste of good time. “I appreciate that. Maybe we can do something nice together at the weekend instead, depending on the autumn weather, of course.”

  “Sure, sounds good to me. Fancy a game of squash? It doesn’t matter what the weather is like for that, does it?”

  “Deal. Hey, be careful out there. Is someone picking you up?”

  “Alex, what have I told you about being overprotective? I’m fine, and my judo skills will come in handy if anyone tries it on with me; you know that. Besides, Rhys is pretty macho when he wants to be.”

  “Okay, I’ll stop nagging you. Have fun. Sorry I couldn’t tag along with you. Call me tomorrow?”

  “Of course. Enjoy your soak. Love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Alex hung up, tossed her phone on top of the fluffy towel sitting on the toilet seat then relaxed into the bubbles once more. Over the next fifteen minutes, she felt the day’s tension leave her weary body. Her plan had worked. She just wished her plans during her working day worked equally well.

  Dressed in her black-and-white fleecy PJs, she settled down on the sofa with another glass of wine and the notes that she had created over the months since these abhorrent attacks on young women had begun. The Escape Artist had a penchant for women connected to authority—like Gail Dawson, the wife of a serving police officer who happened to be connected to the case.

  He was laughing at them. The constant phone calls he made before and after he had captured these women... then the final call he made once he’d killed them was what made him so heartless. The three Cs, she called him: cold, calculating and callous.
She closed her eyes, and one by one, the victims’ corpses drifted into her mind. With each victim, his defacing of them had intensified.

  The victims had been seven wives of serving police officers, a judge’s wife, and the wife of a prosecutor. The very first victim was the wife of a serving councillor. What had been the trigger that had set the killer off on such a destructive path? If she knew that, maybe she could find him. Maybe the first killing had a reason behind the attack, and now he kills just for the thrill of it.

  Every tiny lead they had on the Escape Artist had fizzled out before they were close enough to arrest him. The serial killer was quite skilled at leading their investigations astray. Alex had never dealt with such a devious mind before, and that was incredibly frustrating. He was always one step ahead of her.

  The more she studied her case notes, the more tension began to rise in her shoulders again. “So much for benefiting from having a relaxing bath. You bastard, you see what you do to me?”

  She made herself a tea and took it to bed with her, leaving her notes strewn across the coffee table in the lounge. She switched off the light, hoping that sleep would quickly take hold, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. She tossed and turned, with the victims’ faces running through her mind, for hours. Alex was just about to drift off to sleep, her eyelids very heavy, when her mobile rang. She groped around for it in the dark then quickly answered it. “Don’t start singing to me, sis. I was just losing myself.”

  “Ah, there’s no fear of that, Foxy.”

  At the sound of the man’s voice—his voice—Alex sat bolt upright and flicked on the light switch. She looked at the number on the phone. No number recognised, as usual. “What do you want? We’ve found your latest victim. You must be so proud of your work.”

  He laughed. “I wouldn’t say proud, but I’m getting better. You must agree with that.”

  “You’re sick. Why? What did any of these victims ever do to you for you to carry out such barbaric crimes against them?”

  “Perhaps it isn’t their crimes I wish to punish, and it’s all merely a clever deception. I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet.”

  Alex sat up straighter.“One of these days, you will slip up, and I’ll be there to pounce on your mistake. I can guarantee you that.”

  He sighed. “And that, my dear Foxy, is what I feared. I thought I would give you one warning. A chance to back away and leave the investigation. Don’t make me punish you.”

  “You punish me every day you breathe, you bastard. Every time you call and taunt us. We’re closer than you think,” she lied.

  He laughed—a full belly-laugh that seemed to go on for minutes. “Not sure who you’re trying to fool with that statement, Foxy. You or me?”

  “Stop calling me that! Take my word for it. The net is closing in, and soon, you’ll be locked up in a secure wing, never to see the light of day again. I’ll make sure of that. I just wish we had the death penalty here.”

  He sighed again. The sound grated on her nerves. “Your colleagues are delusional, and inept. I was hoping you were different.”

  She snorted. “I think you’ll find there’s only one delusional person in this conversation, and it’s not me.” She winced as fear gripped her insides. Her smart mouth had a tendency to run away from her. Alex knew how important it was to remain calm, however this guy really got under her skin, more than any other criminal she’d had the misfortune of dealing with.

  “You could have prevented half the deaths by capturing me sooner, when you had the chance. So angry, and yet so sad. Why are you so sad, Foxy? And why do you let that ignorant Jordan speak to you as he does?”

  Alex swallowed hard. How could he know how Jordan speaks to me? “I know how close we were to you. I was the first at the scene and saw your car drive away from the farm building where we found Donna Walcott.”

  “Then why didn’t you arrange some kind of roadblock to cut me off from leaving the area?”

  She could hear the smile in his voice. Alex covered the phone and inhaled and exhaled a few times, trying to calm her racing heart. “Because I thought I might be able to save the victim. I know better than that now because you never show your victims any kind of mercy, do you? It’s just not in your vocabulary, is it?”

  “I had hoped perhaps you would see the truth. But alas, you’re right—once I have a victim in my grasp, I will not let her go until I hear the last breath leave her body and see the light go out in her eyes. Have you ever watched the light fade from someone’s eyes, Foxy? The pigment slowly, ever so slowly, disappear?”

  “You callous bastard.”

  There was silence for a moment, then he said quietly, “You know what? Once upon a time, I dreamed a dream, and now I’m fulfilling that dream.”

  “And you have no consideration for those people who stand in your way?”

  “You should rest now. Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day for you.”

  Alex frowned. If he’d really been watching her, he knew every day was a busy day for her. “What do you mean by that?”

  “My sincerest apologies, Foxy. Perhaps you should dream a dream, and maybe someday, I’ll let you fulfil it.” He ended the call.

  She threw her phone down on the bed, his words echoing around the inside of her head. Frustrated, she went back into the lounge and pored over the case notes once more. It was almost three o’clock when she went back to bed to see if she could catch up on some sleep.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Alex drove into work the following morning on autopilot. Her eyes were sore, and her head was fuzzy due to lack of sleep. Even the heavy make-up did little to disguise how tired and frazzled she felt.

  DI Jordan was addressing the rest of the team when Alex walked into the Murder Squad room. He stopped and waited for her to take her seat. “Nice of you to grace us with your presence finally, Fox. See me in my office after this meeting. I think I need to drum into you how important it is for all my team members to be here on time.”

  Alex’s head dropped to her chest. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” She needed to meet with him anyway and tell him about the call she’d received the previous night. She still didn’t know how the bastard had obtained her private number.

  Jordan addressed the team once more, handing out instructions to each team member on what he expected that day. Then he ended the meeting with the task ahead of him: attending the post-mortem of Gail Dawson. He walked past Alex and sneered. “My office. Now.”

  Alex stood and searched her messy desk for her notebook. The envelope bearing her name caught her eye, and she ripped it open. She read the contents and slumped into her chair once again, her heart hammering loudly.

  Bob Bachelor called over to her. “Alex, what are you playing at? You better get in there right away. He’s in no mood to be messed about, love.”

  She waved the note in her hand, unable to voice the horror.

  Bob left his desk as DI Jordan stormed out of his office to see why Alex hadn’t joined him. Bob took the note from her hand, read it, sat down on the desk next to hers, and handed the note to Jordan.

  “Shit!” Bob’s hand grasped Alex’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Alex shook her head as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I was going to tell everyone after I talked with Jordan. He rang me last night and warned me off the case. I guess I know now how he got my number. He told me today would be a very busy day for me. He never gave me any indication that he would do this. We have to find her, sir. Scarlet is all I have left in this world.”

  “We will, Fox. You have my word on that. Now, I think you should go home. You’ll be no use to us here.”

  Alex stared at him then shook her head. “I can’t do that, sir. I’d go insane. I need to be here, on top of the investigation.”

  “It’s not going to happen, Fox. I’ll make sure one of us brings you up to date on things as the investigation unfolds.”

  Alex couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She dug her heel
s in. “Then you’ll have to escort me off the premises personally, sir.” She folded her arms obstinately and glared at him through her tears. “I’m not leaving.”

  Jordan returned her glare, tapping his foot impatiently.

  Bob intervened. “Sir, it makes sense for Alex to remain on the case. I know it goes against regulations, but there must be some way round that.”

  “Thank you, Bob. Sir, I’m not being awkward, but the killer did go out of his way to contact me. I think that will only increase now that he has my sis...” A sudden lump blocked the words in her throat.

  Bob placed a hand on her shoulder. “Alex is right, sir. Can I make a suggestion?”

  “I’m listening,” Jordan said, his foot still tapping.

  “What if one of us goes home with Alex, acting as a kind of witness protection officer? That person could ring us when the killer makes contact with her and go from there.”

  Jordan shrugged. “Why waste manpower? Why not simply put a trace on her phone?”

  Bob nodded. “That would make sense, too, sir, but I, for one, would feel happier if someone was with Alex twenty-four-seven.”

  “Are you volunteering, Bob?”

  “Why not? I’m pretty handy with my fists and can run fast, too, thanks to my daily runs through the park every morning before I show up for work.”

  “Is that a fact? Well, you’ve just talked yourself into the role of babysitter. Set up the trace, and then get out of here. I don’t want to see either of you on these premises until this shithead has been apprehended, hear me?”

  Alex’s shoulders slumped. She feared for Scarlet’s life—she needed to be around to gather and scrutinise every vital clue they stumbled across.

  Jordan broke into her thoughts by clapping his hands. “Go, get outta here, and let us get on with the investigation.” He turned and walked back into his office.

  Alex was seething under the sympathetic gazes of her other colleagues. She picked up her handbag and headed for the exit, with Bob close on her heels.