Pure Cruelty
Date: 2019-09-18 17:00:00+00:00
Description: The nightmare is just beginning... A short story and prequel featuring DCI Matilda Darke, star of Michael Wood's darkly compelling crime series. Perfect for fans of Angela Marsons and Patricia Gibney. She invited the killer into her home... The body of a young woman is found in an apartment block in a Sheffield suburb. She was attacked at home, in a sudden moment of violence that sends shockwaves through the community. DCI Matilda Darke has no choice but to work with her rival, DI Ben Hales, as the investigation takes them undercover into the dark world of a serial rapist targeting innocent wo
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

Victim of Innocence

A DCI Matilda Darke Short Story

MICHAEL WOOD

One More Chapter
an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2019

Copyright © Michael Wood 2019

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2019

Cover photograph © Shutterstock.com

Michael Wood asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © December 2019 ISBN: 9780008374846

Version: 2019-10-14

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Keep Reading …

Also by Michael Wood

About the Author

About the Publisher

Chapter One

Sunday March 6, 2011

Caitlyn Brown was confused. She staggered forward and held out her arms to hold on to something, anything, to stop her from falling.

What the hell had happened?

She heard the front door closing. Was that someone coming in or going out?

‘Hello?’ She called. Her voice slurred, but she had been sober since New Year. ‘Are you still there? Can you help me? I think …’

Steadying herself on the mantelpiece, Caitlyn turned around to face the living room door. It seemed to blur in and out of focus. Was someone about to come in? That wasn’t possible. She made a point of locking and double-locking the front door as soon as she came home from work. Her mother was the only other person with a spare key, and she wouldn’t turn up unannounced, not since the discussion they had about privacy over Christmas.

Caitlyn felt sick and dizzy. She needed to sit down before she fell. She needed a drink. She needed her mother.

Flopping into the armchair, Caitlyn reached over to the telephone and lifted the handset out of its cradle. She stared but couldn’t focus on the buttons. They wobbled in front of her eyes.

She scrolled through the phone’s built-in contacts and pressed the green call button when she saw what looked like the three-letter word ‘mum’. She held the phone to her ear and listened to the echoing ring. It sounded odd, as if it was the only noise in a large empty room.

‘Hello?’ A voice Caitlyn didn’t recognize answered. It sounded slow and deep.

‘Mum? Is that you?’ Caitlyn asked, concern in her slurred speech.

‘Yes. Caitlyn? Are you all right?’

‘I don’t know.’ She ran her hand through her hair. It came away wet. ‘I think there’s someone in my flat.’

‘What? What are you talking about?’

‘Mum? Is that really you?’ Caitlyn’s voice wobbled. It sounded slow in her head.

‘Oh God, Caitlyn, have you been drinking? You promised you’d quit. You’ve been doing so well, too.’

‘Mum, I haven’t been drinking.’

‘Then why do you sound like your dad when he comes home after United have won?’

‘Mum, I haven’t had a drink in months.’ That was a lie, but there was no reason to tell her mother the truth. She would only worry more than she already did.

‘Caitlyn, I’m not stupid. I know drunk when I hear it. Look, you’re going through hell right now, but drinking won’t help. And what will Mr Jowett say tomorrow when you turn up for work hungover? He’s been very good to you lately, Caitlyn.’

‘Someone’s in my flat,’ Caitlyn said, her eyes still fixed on the doorway.

‘Yes, of course. And Tom Selleck is waiting for me in bed upstairs. Look, sleep it off and I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘But—’

‘Goodnight.’

The line went dead.

‘Shit,’ she said to herself. ‘I’ve phoned the police,’ she called out towards the doorway she could barely see.

There was no reply. Caitlyn remained in the armchair staring at the door, wondering if someone was going to enter. The walls seemed to be moving; the door to the hallway was getting further and further away. Eventually, she lifted herself up and used the wall to steady herself. It was closed and the Yale was locked. Maybe she hadn’t heard the door closing.

What did she remember? She was sat having a drink of wine—

‘Don’t tell mum. Mustn’t tell mum.’

—watching a repeat of Blue Planet on Sky when the doorbell rang. After that, nothing but a massive headache. She placed a hand on her forehead. It felt warm and clammy.

Caitlyn stumbled into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Her dizziness increased. She wanted to sleep. She began to remove her clothes; floppy fingers fumbled with her shirt buttons; tired legs kicked out of her trousers. She couldn’t be bothered to change into her pyjamas; she couldn’t find them anyway.

When she stood up, she caught her tired reflection in the wardrobe mirror. She looked a mess: pale, skinny, bad skin and crazy hair.

Caitlyn threw back the duvet and fell into bed. She started to relax straight away as her warm body was engulfed in the cool crisp sheets. She turned over to cocoon herself in the duvet and didn’t notice the blood dripping from her head onto the pillow; didn’t notice as a red stain grew like a flower across the sheets.

Chapter Two

Monday March 7, 2011

‘Table for two. Name of Darke.’

Matilda held her husband’s hand firmly while they waited for their table. His large fingers wrapped around hers. His were calloused, weather beaten, the hands of a manual worker, strong and rugged. She felt safe with this tall handsome man gripping her hand. She had no idea why she was suddenly so fixated on James’s hand, but as she looked down, she wanted to memorize every single line and cut, as if she was seeing it for the last time. She also wanted to lick it, take off his jacket and shirt, kiss his firm masculine body, run her tongue …

‘Mr Darke, your table is ready.’

‘Thank goodness. I’m starving,’ Matilda said, her face flushed with embarrassment.

It had been a while since they had dressed up and gone out somewhere posh to eat. Since the renovations on the house, they were living in a glorified caravan at the bottom of the garden. Meals consisted of takeaways, sandwiches, and things that could be cooked in one pan. Tonight was a chance to indulge in expensive food and drink over several courses.

They were shown to their table by the window and given the menus.

‘Are you all right?’ James asked.

‘I’m fine. Why?’

‘You look a bit flushed.’

Matilda smiled and felt herself blushing. ‘I’m fine. Honestly. I’ve been looking forward to this evening all day. I haven’t had lunch.’

‘I have,’ James said as he perused the menu. ‘But only a jacket potato, a bit of salad, tuna mayo, packet of crisps.’

‘Is that all? You’ll be wasting away,’ she mocked.

‘Are we having a starter?’

‘Of course.’ Matilda was almost salivating as she looked at the menu.

Her phone started to ring. They made eye contact. They both knew what this meant.

‘Luckily I hadn’t chosen yet,’ James said.

Matilda mouthed ‘sorry’ before taking her phone out of her inside pocket. She listened to the voice on the other end. All the while her bright face was falling to one of sadness and disappointment. She ended the call and didn’t dare look up at her husband.

‘You have to go,’ James said.

‘I’m afraid so. A body has been found in Heeley.’

‘I’ll drive you.’

‘No. Stay. Have some decent food for a change.’

‘On my own? I’ll look like I’ve been stood up. I’ll drop you off then go for a pizza.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, genuinely meaning it.

‘Don’t be silly. This is the cheapest meal I’ve had out in ages.’

He flashed her his perfect smile which she couldn’t resist returning. Matilda promised herself she would make it up to him.

It was half past eight. Fortunately at this time of night on a week day there was very little traffic around so Matilda arrived at Heeley on the outskirts of the city centre in good time. There was nowhere for James to park, so he stopped in the middle of the road and put the hazards on. Matilda leaned over and kissed him passionately on the lips.

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Stop apologising. It’s not your fault. Now, go on, I can see Sian’s eyes burning into us.’ He gave the DS a wave through the windscreen. She waved back.

‘Don’t wait up.’

Matilda kissed him again then, reluctantly, got out of the car. She walked over to Sian and they watched James drive away.

‘That reminds me, I need a new hoover,’ Sian said.

‘What?’ Matilda frowned.

‘One with really good suction on it,’ she smiled.

‘Cheeky sod. I’m sure you and Stuart are still passionate.’

Sian rolled her eyes. ‘It depends how well England are playing at rugby.’

Matilda took in the scene surrounding the block of six apartments and blinked at the dazzling blue flashing lights on the police cars. She ducked under the police tape and looked up at the building. Lights seemed to be on in every room. The residents were obviously interested in the attention they were receiving from police. ‘What’s dragged me away from a four-course meal, then?’

‘Flat number one is registered to Caitlyn Brown. Police were called when her mother came running out of the flat screaming at eight o’clock this evening. According to a neighbour, she was rambling and inconsolable. Caitlyn was found dead in bed with a very nasty head injury.’

‘Where’s the mother now?’

‘She’s been taken to hospital and sedated.’

‘OK. Let’s take a look.’

Sian handed Matilda a paper forensic suit. ‘Not designer, I’m afraid.’

In the foyer of the building, Matilda struggled into the flimsy white suit. She was uncomfortable and the shoe covers wouldn’t fit properly over her Jimmy Choos.

Sian looked at her watch.

‘Don’t you roll your eyes at me,’ Matilda said. ‘I’m not dressed for this.’

The long hallway had three rooms leading off it: a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. As it was only a one-bedroom flat, the bathroom was en suite. Matilda looked into the living room as she passed. It was large and crowded with furniture. Several scene of crime officers snapped photographs and took samples of blood smears on the wall.

In the large bedroom a swarm of white-suited officers dusted for prints, took photographs, and sketched the scene. Leaning over the victim in the bed was pathologist Dr Adele Kean in a forensic suit.

‘Evening,’ Matilda said.

Adele stood up and revealed the victim to Matilda. The duvet had been pulled back and the young woman lay as if asleep in matching bra and pants. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile on her lips, as if she was having a pleasant dream she didn’t want to wake up from. All Matilda could think of was what a shocking waste of a life it was.

‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought tonight was date night,’ Adele said.

‘It was but I made the mistake of telling Sian my plans, so she organized a nice murder to ruin it for me, didn’t you?’ Matilda turned to the DS who was smiling.

‘Listen, if I have to sit home every night and watch Emmerdale, so can you.’

‘Just wait until it’s your birthday,’ she said with a hint of a smile. She turned to Adele. ‘What can you tell me?’

Carefully, Adele leaned over the bed and slowly rolled Caitlyn onto her side to show Matilda the back of her head. ‘As you can see we have a single blow to the back of the head.’

‘Nasty.’

‘Absolutely. It’s fractured the skull. There’s blood on the pillow and there’s some in the living room too, apparently. However, I’d say she died from a massive head trauma.’

‘What was she hit with?’

‘I don’t know,’ Adele frowned. ‘Something blunt but big and heavy. There’s nothing in the wound to identify a weapon, but the skull has caved in. I’d say you’re looking for something round.’

‘Like a bowling ball?’ Matilda guessed.

‘Nothing that big, but, possibly.’

‘Is this how she was found?’ Matilda turned to Sian.

‘Yes. The duvet was over her though. It’s like she just went to bed and died.’

‘Any sign of disturbance?’

‘Not in here. Come into the living room,’ Sian said, leading the way.

‘I’ll see you later, Adele.’

‘OK. I’ll try and do the PM tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know. Love your earrings, by the way,’ said Adele.

‘Thank you,’ she smiled and left the room.

‘As you can see from the carpet there are marks where the sofa should be, but it’s been pushed back,’ Sian said, pointing. ‘There’s blood smears on the back of the armchair and the wall too.’

‘So, what? She was hit in here and then the killer put her to bed?’

‘Could be.’

‘I’ve got a clear fingerprint in a blood smear,’ a SOCO said, turning to Matilda.

‘Great. Check it against the victim.’

‘Will do.’

‘Any sign of a break in?’ Matilda asked Sian.

‘No. The flat was locked,’ she said.

‘How did the mother gain entry?’

‘She had a key, I’m guessing. We’ve not been able to interview her yet. Anna’s at the hospital with her. She’s going to give me a call when she finds anything out.’

Matilda looked around the room. On the floor by the door was a plastic box which contained all the exhibits. She bent down and picked up a heavy glass object in an evidence bag.

‘What’s this?’

‘It’s a paper weight,’ Sian said.

‘Where was it found?’ She asked, looking at the blood smear on the glass ball.

‘Here,’ the SOCO pointed to a gap on a shelf above a radiator.

Matilda took the paper weight through to the bedroom. ‘Adele, would this have done the job?’

Adele asked her Anatomical Pathology Technician to turn Caitlyn on her side to reveal the wound once again. The glass ball fitted perfectly into the indentation in the wound.

‘Nice of the killer to leave the murder weapon behind,’ Adele said.

DC Rita Morgan entered the bedroom. ‘Ma’am, I asked Aaron to run Caitlyn Brown through the PNC to see if she’s known to us, and she is.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. She reported a crime a few days ago. She said she was raped last year.’

Chapter Three

Tuesday March 8, 2011

By the time door-to-door enquiries had been conducted, Caitlyn had been taken to the mortuary and forensics had finished, it was almost one o’clock in the morning. Far too late to start the investigation. Matilda sent everyone home and told them to be in the briefing room by eight o’clock.

The Murder Investigation Team had been in operation within South Yorkshire Police for three months now, and, so far, they had a one-hundred-per-cent success rate and three ongoing cases.

DCI Matilda Darke was the first to arrive at just after seven o’clock the next morning. Despite only having three hours sleep thanks to James’s pneumatic-drill snoring, she looked bright and fresh and ready to face the challenges of a new murder case. She helped herself to a strong black coffee and a bar of chocolate from Sian’s snack drawer.

‘Caitlyn Brown, twenty-three, was found bludgeoned to death in her flat last night. What do we know so far?’ Matilda asked her team as they gathered around for the first briefing.

‘Caitlyn’s mother, Diane, went round about eight o’clock. She found her daughter dead in bed and practically screamed the block down,’ Sian began. ‘Several neighbours came out to see what was going on.’

‘Did anyone go into Caitlyn’s flat?’

‘Yes. The flat directly next door belongs to Polly Nicoletti. When she couldn’t get any sense out of Diane, she went in to see what had happened.’

‘Anyone else?’

‘Not that we know of.’

‘Did she touch anything?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Who called 999?’

‘Polly Nicoletti.’

‘OK. Bring her in for a witness statement and take her prints too. What do we know about Caitlyn Brown?’

Rita Morgan took a sip of her coffee then put her hand up. ‘Caitlyn worked as a veterinary nurse at a surgery on Woodseats. Now, last week, she came into the station and gave a statement saying she had been raped in October.’

‘Why did she wait so long?’

‘Apparently, she saw the story in the paper about Julia Adams being raped and she thinks she was attacked by the same man.’

‘Right. Who’s SIO?’

‘DI Ben Hales.’

Matilda’s heart sank. She had a very fractious relationship with DI Hales. He believed he should have been promoted to DCI and put in charge of the Murder Investigation Team. He resented her success and delighted in obstructing her at every turn. She knew they would have to work together at some point, and she wasn’t looking forward to that happening. It would appear that day had arrived.

Matilda set her team to work before leaving the freshly decorated MIT room and heading for the cold, damp, poorly-lit, and cramped CID suite.

The open-plan room was cluttered with desks and filing cabinets. When Matilda entered she was hit by a wall of noise: telephones ringing, fingers drumming hard on computer keyboards and different topics of conversation being conducted all at once. She walked slowly through the mine field towards Ben’s corner office. His role was to oversee all CID’s cases. He spent more time behind his desk than solving crimes.

Matilda rapped on his glass door. She looked through at the dark-haired DI. Head down, he was writing on a note pad. He looked up. His brow creased when he saw her.

Did he just roll his eyes?

He nodded and Matilda took a deep breath, then walked into the room, closing the door behind her.

‘Morning, how are things?’

‘Checking up on me?’ He asked in his icy, difficult tone.

‘No. I was being polite,’ she said, wondering why she even bothered trying to make small talk. ‘A young woman has been murdered. I believe she’s connected to a series of rapes you’re working on.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. Caitlyn Brown. You know her?’

Ben’s desk was a mountain of files and paperwork. He briefly looked through it before selecting the relevant file. ‘Caitlyn Brown, twenty-three, said she was raped on October fifteenth last year. She’s dead?’

‘Yes. Serious head injury. She was found in her own flat last night.’

‘Any suspects?’

‘Not so far.’ Matilda pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Did she say who raped her?’

‘No,’ he skimmed the file. ‘She gave a good description though.’

‘Apparently she came forward because she saw a news story of a similar attack.’

‘Julia Adams. She was raped on Saturday February fifth. She came into the station the next morning, still wearing her clothes from the attack. She was a mess. She was taken to the interview suite. We got some DNA but there’s no match on the computer.’

‘Did she know who raped her?’

‘No, but the description she gave was similar to Caitlyn’s.’

‘I’m going to need to speak to the SOLO for both Caitlyn and Julia.’

‘That’s PC Kesinka Rani. I put her on Caitlyn when I heard of the similarities with Julia’s attack.’

‘Good thinking. We’re going to need to liaise on this, Ben. Are you all right with that?’

‘Do what you want,’ he said, returning to his paperwork.

Matilda sighed and left the room.

That man will never change.

PC Kesinka Rani was sitting in the station canteen on her own. Her current work as a Sexual Offences Liaison Officer (SOLO) was stressful and demanding. Her job was to be a first point of contact for all victims of rape. Kesinka interviewed them, talked them through the process of the investigation, and was with them every step of the way to recovery.

The stories Kesinka heard from victims were often harrowing and upsetting. She tried not to allow them to get to her, but it wasn’t easy.

This morning she was due to visit Julia Adams. Last night, Julia had sent a text to Kesinka asking her whether it was a good idea to return to work. The decision was entirely Julia’s, but Kesinka had offered to go around for a coffee to talk through options.

Before that, however, Kesinka needed a good breakfast inside her. Unfortunately, due to several recent late nights, she hadn’t been shopping, so she fell back on the station canteen for her meals. On the table in front of her was a cup of weak tea and a double helping of scrambled eggs on toast. She was enjoying her breakfast and didn’t notice DCI Darke walk over to her table.

‘Kesinka, sorry to interrupt, any chance of a word?’

‘Of course, ma’am,’ she said, swallowing. She put down her knife and fork and pushed her plate to one side.

‘Don’t stop eating on my account. Is it good?’

‘It is actually,’ she picked up the cutlery again. ‘Better than I can make, anyway.’

‘I may have to start having my meals in here,’ Matilda smiled. ‘Kesinka, DI Hales tells me you’re acting as SOLO for Caitlyn Brown.’

‘That’s right.’

‘What can you tell me about her?’

‘Oh. Well, she’s quite a shy person. She doesn’t have many friends. I get the impression her parents are a bit controlling. Her mother certainly is. She’s an only child. She works as a veterinary nurse. That’s about it really. Why?’

‘I’m sorry to tell you this, but Caitlyn was found dead in her flat last night. She’d been murdered.’

‘Oh my God,’ Kesinka said, dropping her cutlery again. ‘That’s horrible. I really liked her.’

‘Did she say anything to you about any unwanted attention, or if she was frightened?’

‘Well, she wasn’t handling the rape very well. She blamed herself, said she’d had too much to drink on the night it happened. She also said if she’d come forward straight away then maybe Julia Adams wouldn’t have been raped. I tried to tell her not to think like that, but she was really beating herself up about it.’

‘Was she seeing someone?’

‘No.’

‘What about at the time of the rape? Last October, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes it was. She was single then, too.’

‘Did she know her attacker?’

‘No. She says not.’

‘Kesinka,’ Matilda said, leaning forward and lowering her voice. ‘Did you believe Caitlyn when she said she was raped?’

‘Yes I did. One-hundred-per-cent. I’ve been a SOLO for a couple of years now. I’ve spoken to many victims, and some I’ve had an inkling they were making it up. With Caitlyn, and with Julia, I didn’t get that.’

‘Thanks. Will you be able to get me a transcript of her original interview?’

‘Sure. I’ll email the video to you if you like.’

‘Thanks. Are you seeing Julia Adams any time soon?’

‘This morning, actually.’

‘I don’t want you to frighten her but look into her security. Ask her if anyone has been in touch with her lately or if she’s had any inkling of being followed.’

‘You think Caitlyn’s murder could have something to do with her rape?’

‘I don’t know what to think at the moment.’

‘If Julia’s a potential target shouldn’t we offer her protection?’

‘I doubt the ACC will agree to that, until we have the facts. In the meantime, tell Julia to keep safe.’

‘Will do.’ Kesinka pushed her plate away. Suddenly, she had lost her appetite.

Chapter Four

As promised, Adele Kean performed the post mortem on Caitlyn Brown first thing in the morning. When it was over, she and Matilda changed out of their scrubs and sat in her office with a cup of tea and a packet of chocolate HobNobs to go through the briefing.

‘There were some old scratches on her arms and legs I didn’t like the look of. I’ve taken a few close-up shots. I doubt we’ll get any samples though.’

‘Shit, sorry, I should have said, she worked as a veterinary nurse. Could they have come from animals?’

Adele smiled. ‘Very probably. They looked like claw marks. I did wonder what she’d been up to. However, my estimation at the scene was confirmed. She died from massive internal bleeding in the brain. The skull was severely fractured.’

‘Would she have suffered?’

‘As she was found in bed I’d say not. She was either knocked unconscious and carried to bed, but that doesn’t explain the blood smears on the wall of her living room, or, she was hit and, while dazed and confused, decided to lie down and died in her sleep.’

‘Poor girl. Any sign of sexual interference?’ Matilda asked.

‘None. She hasn’t had sex for a while by the look of it. She was raped, wasn’t she?’

‘Apparently, yes.’

Adele shook her head. ‘Why do some men think they have the right to demand sex from whoever they like?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ Matilda said, reaching for another chocolate biscuit.

‘I’ve sent blood samples off to the lab. As soon as I get everything back I’ll send you my full report.’

‘Thanks.’

‘No problem. So, your night out was interrupted, then?’

‘Typical isn’t it? I was looking forward to a night away from the caravan.’

‘Don’t let James hear you call it a caravan,’ Adele said with a smile. ‘When I was there last week he pointed out many times that it’s a static home.’

Matilda rolled her eyes. ‘He promised me a state of the art Winnebago. The only reason I gave the go-ahead on the house renovations was because he said I’d be living in luxury at the bottom of the garden while they were carried out. I’m in a condemned prefab that shakes every time the wind blows.’

Adele laughed. ‘How much longer is it going to be?’

‘Nothing has been done on the house since mid-January, so I think we’ll still be at the bottom of the garden when the rapture comes.’

‘You’re more than welcome to come and stay with me and Chris,’ Adele said, referring to her son who was at college.

‘I may take you up on that. I never thought I’d miss things like brick walls. The romance in a marriage sort of dies when you can hear your loved one’s bowel movements in the next room.’

Tall, dark, brooding DC Aaron Connolly knocked on Matilda’s office door and walked in. His joy at being a newlywed had quickly faded. ‘Ma’am, I’ve heard back from forensics. The bloody fingerprint on the wall in the living room matches Caitlyn Brown.’

‘Thanks.’

‘There are a few other prints we can’t match.’

‘They could belong to her parents. Is her mother in a fit state to be interviewed?’

‘I don’t know. Anna’s still at the hospital.’

‘Right. Also, PC Kesinka Rani was Caitlyn’s SOLO. Her prints will probably be in the flat. You may need to talk to her.’

‘Will do.’

Aaron left the office and Matilda followed him out into the main open-plan suite where members of the Murder Investigation Team were busy at work.

‘So,’ Matilda began, clapping her hands together to get everyone’s attention. ‘It seems that Caitlyn was attacked in the living room. The blow to her head was from behind so she was facing away from her attacker. She stumbled to the bedroom which is where she died. How are we doing on the door-to-door?’

‘Everyone’s given us a statement,’ Rita Morgan said. ‘Nobody heard or saw anything that troubled them until Diane Brown started screaming.’

‘How do you gain access to the building?’

‘There’s a door entry system. You have to be buzzed in.’

‘And, just to confirm, there was definitely no sign of a break-in to Caitlyn’s flat?’

‘No.’

‘So, either Caitlyn knew her killer and let them in, or her killer lives in the apartment block.’

Sian walked over to the murder board and stared at the case information and photographs of Caitlyn. There was a map of the block and each flat numbered. ‘Caitlyn lived on the ground floor in the first apartment. Number two is Polly Nicoletti. Upstairs in three and four we have Bryce Mitchell and Hilary Fulton respectively. On the second floor in flat five we have a couple, Julie Benson and Tom Caulder. And in flat six we have Daniel Turton and Mark Salt, also a couple.’

‘That’s seven people we need to talk to,’ Matilda said.

‘We’ve done preliminary interviews,’ Rita said.

‘We need to know their relationship with Caitlyn Brown. Also, I want to know their alibis for the nights both Caitlyn Brown and Julia Adams said they were raped. Sian?’ Matilda asked.

Sian dug around on her desk. ‘Friday October fifteen last year for Caitlyn and Saturday February fifth this year for Julia.’

‘Thank you. Aaron and Rita, can you do those interviews?’

They both nodded.

‘Sian, call Anna and ask if we can speak to Diane Brown. I want statements from her and her husband. I also want someone to go to Caitlyn’s work. Talk to her colleagues, find out what kind of a person she was. In her interview, Caitlyn mentioned she was on a night out with colleagues when she was raped. Did they know about it? How was she since the attack? Sian, get someone to look at her mobile and landline too. I want to know who she last spoke to and what the conversations were about.’

‘OK. No problem.’

Matilda turned away and walked back into her office. She closed the door, sat down behind her desk and thought about the tragic final months of Caitlyn Brown’s life. Her phone rang and made her jump.

‘DCI Darke,’ she answered.

‘Matilda, could you come to my office, please?’ It may have sounded like a polite question by ACC Valerie Masterson, but it was more of a direct order. ‘On your way, stop off at CID and ask DI Ben Hales to come with you.’

Shit!

Chapter Five

ACC Valerie Masterson was a small woman with a big presence. She was dwarfed by her oversized desk, yet without her, this freshly decorated office would seem empty and quiet. At the sound of the knock on her door, she stood up and asked her caller to enter. She knew exactly who it was going to be.

DI Hales came into the office first. The fact he hadn’t been polite enough to allow a female to enter before him was not lost on Valerie. She knew the animosity which existed between her two best officers. There was nothing she could do to repair their fractured relationship.

‘Ben, Matilda, thank you for coming. Can I get you a coffee? My husband has introduced me to a new blend,’ she said, walking over to her pride and joy – a shiny Gaggia on the top of a low filing cabinet. ‘Columbian with a hint of roasted hazelnut.’

‘That sounds lovely, thank you,’ Ben replied, over enthusiastically.

‘Thanks,’ Matilda said.

The DCI and the DI sat in awkward silence while Valerie expertly went about making coffee. The subtle, relaxing aroma soon filled the room. Valerie brought the tray of coffees over to her desk and returned to her high-backed seat.

‘So, your cases are linked?’

‘It would appear so,’ Ben jumped in before Matilda had the chance. ‘However, as my team were working with Caitlyn Brown, I think we should look into her murder. I have led a murder investigation before. I’m more than capable of solving this.’

‘I’m aware,’ Valerie said, sitting back and slowly sipping her coffee. ‘However, we have a dedicated MIT for that. Do we have any suspects so far?’

‘Not yet,’ Matilda answered. ‘I’m going to interview her mother this afternoon. Hopefully we can gleam something from her background.’

‘My team already knows a lot about Caitlyn following the rape investigation. It would be a waste of time starting from scratch,’ Ben said through a painful-looking smile.

‘Ben, the MIT has been going for three months. If I start having murders investigated by other departments, it’s going to seem like a waste of money. No, you need to liaise. You and your team concentrate on the rape. Once you’ve established a suspect, I’m sure he should be able to shed some light on Matilda’s murder investigation, and vice versa. Is that understood?’

‘Perfectly,’ Matilda said, sitting back in her seat with a smile.

‘As you wish,’ Ben said through gritted teeth.

Outside the office, Ben closed the door behind him with a loud thud and began the walk back to his office.

‘Ben. Ben,’ Matilda called after him. She trotted to catch up. ‘What’s the description of the man Julia Adams and Caitlyn Brown say raped them?’

‘Over six foot, short dark hair, dark eyes, medium to large build, but not fat, and handsome,’ he reeled off the list.

‘They both said the same thing?’

‘More or less.’

‘Do you have any suspects?’

‘Nope,’ he said, charging ahead.

‘Were they both raped in similar places?’

‘Yep.’

‘Are you going to tell me?’ She asked.

‘This is why I should be investigating,’ Ben said, stopping in his tracks. Matilda almost bumped into him. ‘Bringing you and your team up to speed is going to take time, time we do not have.’

‘Give me access to your files. I’ll read them myself.’

‘No.’

‘No?’ She asked, surprised.

He leaned in close, his face inches away from Matilda’s. ‘If you want to investigate this case, then you do all the digging yourself.’ He turned and walked away, his head held high.

Matilda felt uncomfortable and took a deep breath.

‘People’s lives are at risk, Ben,’ she shouted after him. ‘If he claims another victim, it will be your fault and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.’

Her threat fell on deaf ears, though others in the corridor looked at her in bemusement. She should go to the ACC, tell her he wasn’t co-operating, but that smacked of running to the headteacher and telling tales. She’d handle Ben in her own way.

Matilda was just about to slam the glass door of her office when DC Evans put her hand out to stop it hitting her in the face.

‘Oh, sorry Anna. I didn’t see you there.’

‘That’s OK. Diane Brown has been discharged from hospital and her husband has taken her home. I thought it might be best for her to be interviewed there. She’s really shook up.’

‘Good thinking. You can lead the interview and I’ll observe.’

‘Really?’ Anna looked surprised.

‘Yes. Come on.’

DC Anna Evans was something of an enigma to Matilda. She had hand-picked her due to her exemplary record. However, on a personal level, Matilda knew nothing about her. There was no doubting Anna was dedicated and hardworking, but around the office, she had no sense of presence at all. Matilda wanted that to change. She wanted Anna to have drive and confidence. The only way to do that was to give her added responsibility, allow her to shine.

Diane and Peter Brown lived in a detached house in a quiet road in the Shirecliffe area of Sheffield. The houses were all kept neat and tidy, windows washed, garden paths swept, lawns neatly trimmed. After a harsh winter, trees were finally coming into bud. It was still chilly for the time of year, but hopefully the weather was improving. In a few more weeks, the clocks would be put forward an hour and the nights would be shorter. There was something about the springtime that made Matilda happy. It wouldn’t be long before she and James were sitting in the garden at ten o’clock at night drinking a glass of wine.

At the front door, Matilda looked across at Anna as she knocked and took a step back. There was nothing that stood out about her. She was of average height, average build, mousy hair tied back in a pony tail, no make-up.

The door opened and the looming figure of Peter Brown filled the doorway. To a complete stranger, he would seem frightening with his broad shoulders, thick wild grey hair, heavy black-framed glasses, and huge shovel-like hands. Even Matilda gulped nervously.

‘Hello Peter,’ Anna smiled sympathetically.

‘Anna,’ he said. His voice did not match his build. He was softly spoken. ‘Thanks for coming.’

‘You’re welcome. This is my boss, DCI Matilda Darke. Is Diane OK to chat?’

‘Yes I think so. Come on in.’

He showed the detectives into the living room and introduced them to Diane before disappearing into the kitchen to make a pot of tea. Diane was a complete contrast to her husband. She was short and of a medium build. Her dyed blonde hair hung lifelessly around her shoulders. She looked at least a decade younger than Peter, even now with a tear-stained face and smudged eye make-up.

‘Diane, are you up to answering a few questions?’ Anna asked.

Diane nodded.

The living room was split-level with a couple of steps leading up to a dining room. It was tastefully decorated in soft pastel colours and smelled of furniture polish.

Diane wiped her nose with a torn tissue. She threw it into a waste paper basket by her feet and picked another one out of the box beside her on the sofa. ‘I spoke to her,’ she said through her tears. ‘I spoke to Caitlyn on Sunday night. I thought she was drunk.’

Anna and Matilda looked at each other.

‘Did she drink a lot?’

‘No. She liked a glass of wine with her meals but that was it until … until she was … you know … attacked. She started drinking heavily after that. She stopped at Christmas, though. It was a new year resolution thing.’

‘So you knew about the attack?’ Matilda asked.

‘Oh yes. She told us in early December, didn’t she Peter?’ She looked up at her husband who came in carrying a small tray in his large hands.

‘What’s that dear?’ He asked.

‘Caitlyn. She told us what happened to her.’

‘Yes. We noticed a change in her straight away, but she’s always been a private person. We thought we’d let her tell us in her own time. By the beginning of December, she was drinking heavily and missing work. We sort of held an intervention,’ he said, sitting down and holding his wife’s hand. ‘She told us. We were all in tears.’

‘So, you spoke to Caitlyn on Sunday night,’ Anna said. ‘What did you talk about? How did she seem?’

‘She was slurring her words. I thought she was drunk. She kept saying she thought someone was in her flat. I should have gone round. I should have driven straight there. She might still be here now.’

‘Did Caitlyn say who she thought was in her flat?’ Anna asked, leaning forward.

‘No. Just someone. I told her to go to bed. I’ll never forgive myself. Never.’

‘Don’t do this to yourself, love,’ Peter said. He pulled his wife into a tight embrace.

‘I’m sorry,’ Diane said through a torrent of tears. ‘I thought I’d be able to … that I …’ Her words were lost to her crying.

Matilda and Anna exchanged glances. Matilda nodded.

‘It’s OK. We can come back another time,’ Anna said standing up. ‘We’ll see ourselves out.’

‘Was she drunk?’ Anna asked as they walked back to the car.

‘We won’t know until the toxicology report comes back. I don’t remember seeing any bottles in her flat though.’

‘Do you think there could have been someone else there?’

‘There was no sign of a forced entry. If there was, she knew them.’

‘Are you saying the man who raped her also killed her?’

‘I don’t know. It would be a strange coincidence if not. Or just pure bad luck.’

‘Where do we go from here?’ Anna slipped into the driver’s seat.

Matilda remained outside and looked at Peter and Diane’s house. Through the window into the living room, she could see the husband comforting his wife. ‘I’ve absolutely no idea, Anna,’ she said.

Chapter Six

‘Rapists disgust me,’ James Darke said, standing in front of the cooker in the caravan. He recognized the shattered look on Matilda’s face as soon as she arrived home. He offered to cook dinner, even though he was useless in the kitchen. Surely he couldn’t ruin a packet stir fry.

‘I’m not a fan either.’ Matilda was flat-out on the seating area. She was tired, mentally rather than physically. Murder, rape, and DI Ben Hales being his usual charming self.

‘They’re cowards,’ James continued. ‘Taking advantage. Thinking they can do what they like. Is chemical castration legal in this country?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Hand me a pair of scissors?’

‘What?’

‘I need to open this sachet of soy sauce.’

‘Oh. I thought you were still talking about castration,’ Matilda smiled, sitting up.

‘Shit. I think I was supposed to defrost this first,’ he said, reading the back of the packet. ‘Do you think it matters?’

‘Probably. You have to be careful with chicken.’

‘I’ll just cook it for longer. It’ll be all right.’

‘Takeaway?’ Matilda asked.

‘Sounds good.’

‘Can I have a hug first?’

‘Now hugs are where I have a Michelin star,’ he smiled, turned the cooker off and went over to Matilda. He lifted her up and pulled her into a tight embrace.

She felt squashed, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel safe and warm, and James’s arms did the trick every single time.

‘I could eat prawn crackers until I exploded,’ James Darke said, sitting back with his feet up and munching his way through the paper bag.

‘Well, please don’t. I doubt this caravan will stand an explosion.’

‘It’s not a caravan, Mat, it’s a static home.’

‘It’s a caravan.’

‘Then where are the wheels?’

‘You had them removed so I wouldn’t think it was a caravan,’ she smiled.

He paused and crunched on a few more prawn crackers. ‘It’s a static home,’ he said quietly.

Matilda snuggled into her husband. She’d had a hard day and knew tomorrow wasn’t going to be any easier. Any detective would struggle not to become emotional when talking to rape victims. It was at times like this Matilda was pleased she had a stable home life and a loving husband.

As a freelance architect, James worked from home, and when Matilda arrived back after work, he downed tools and they spent the evenings together. They may not be in their spacious four-bedroom house at the moment, but they could still have their quiet evenings alone. That was more important to Matilda than anything else.

‘Penny for your thoughts,’ James said when he heard Matilda sigh.

‘How cheap do you think my thoughts are?’ She tried to sound cheerful, but it wasn’t working.

‘Tell me.’

‘You don’t want to know.’

‘Yes, I do. I’m always interested.’

‘It’s not the work as such, it’s sodding Ben Hales.’

Now it was James’s turn to sigh. ‘If he’s being a pain in the arse, then tell Valerie about him.’

‘I can’t go running to the head every time one of the students picks on me.’

‘Well, use your rank then. You’re a DCI. He’s a DI. Be a chief about it and burn his wigwam down.’

‘We need to share intelligence on this case. He can’t have it all his own way.’

‘Then you’re going to have to prove you deserved the promotion. Be the boss. Unless you’d like me to go and give him a good kicking.’

Matilda laughed. ‘I’d love you to.’

‘Have I met him?’

‘No. He doesn’t go to any of the Christmas do’s or anything like that.’

‘Is he married?’

‘I’ve no idea. He wears a wedding ring, so I assume so. He’s a very private person.’

‘Hmm.’

‘What?’

‘Sounds like he’s hiding something.’

‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe a double life, two families. Or maybe he’s on the take.’

‘Corrupt? No. That’s not his style. He’s just a dick, that’s all.’

‘Then he needs bringing down a peg or two. Give him both barrels tomorrow morning and show him you mean business. Now, forget all about Hales, and let’s go to bed.’

‘We’re already in bed, aren’t we?’

Matilda and James both looked around the small space they were using as a seating area.

‘I think we are, yes.’

‘That’s handy,’ Matilda smiled.

Chapter Seven

Wednesday March 9, 2011.

‘Ben. A word, please,’ Matilda said entering the CID suite first thing on Wednesday morning. She could have kicked herself for saying please.

‘Sure.’ He headed for his office.

Matilda followed and closed the door behind her but refused to sit down. She stood with her legs shoulder-length apart and her arms folded defiantly across her chest. ‘I want copies of all the interviews you’ve conducted in the rape cases of Julia Adams and Caitlyn Brown. I also want all intelligence on potential suspects and copies of CCTV footage from where the victims were last seen on the nights of their attacks.’

‘You’re not dealing with the rapes.’

‘Caitlyn’s murder is connected to her attack and to Julia’s attack.’

‘I’m not taking any of my officers off their duties to provide you with information you don’t need.’

‘Ben, I’m not asking, I’m telling. I want all that information in the MIT suite within the hour. Understand?’

She started to turn around to leave when Ben called her back.

‘You have no right–’

‘Remember your rank, DI Hales,’ she said.

He stopped talking and slumped down in his chair.

Matilda left the office and headed for the exit. She tried not to look smug but it was difficult. Once she was out of the room, she turned the corner and rested against the wall, placed her hand on her chest and let out a deep breath. She didn’t like confrontation with other officers, but sometimes it was necessary.

‘Morning Sian, you well?’ Matilda asked, entering the MIT suite and heading straight for the snack drawer.

‘Not bad, thanks. There’s been another rape.’

‘What?’ Matilda looked up. ‘I’ve just been to see Ben. He didn’t say anything.’

‘He wouldn’t, would he? He’s an arse.’

‘Very true.’

‘I’ve sent DS Richard Tanner to liaise with CID, until we know whether it’s connected. Is that OK?’

‘Yes, that’s fine,’ Matilda said, carefully opening a Tunnock’s Tea Cake. ‘I didn’t know Tanner was coming back today.’

‘Yes. He’s mumps free by all accounts. Lost some weight too.’

‘I wouldn’t mind losing a few pounds.’

‘I don’t know how you can say that with a straight face when you’ve just eaten a tea cake in two bites,’ Sian said.

‘The diet starts tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow never comes,’ Sian retorted.

‘I’ve nothing to worry about then, have I?’ Matilda smiled.

The rest of the MIT filed into the room and made their way over to their desks. Matilda waited until they’d helped themselves to a coffee, then she began the morning briefing.

‘Who spoke to Caitlyn’s neighbours?’ Matilda asked.

‘Me and Aaron went yesterday afternoon,’ Rita said. ‘We got a full statement from Polly Nicoletti. She didn’t mention anything about Caitlyn’s attack, so I’m guessing she didn’t know. She said Caitlyn was a lovely girl, a good neighbour, quiet and friendly. She was genuinely shocked by her death.’

‘And the others?’

Rita flicked through her notes. ‘Bryce Mitchell lives in the flat directly above Caitlyn. He’s a junior doctor and didn’t get in until late on Monday night. He doesn’t really know any of his neighbours. He didn’t hear or see anything. Hilary Fulton who lives next door is on holiday according to the couple upstairs who have a spare key.’

‘On the top floor are two couples,’ Aaron said. ‘Julie Benson and Tom Caulder went out to the pub on Sunday night. When they left the block, Julie said she thought someone was parked in Caitlyn’s space, but she doesn’t have a car and it’s always empty. She assumed Caitlyn had a visitor.’

‘What time was this?’

‘They left for the pub about nine-ish.’

‘What time did they get back?’

‘Gone eleven.’

‘Did she describe the car?’

‘No,’ Aaron said. ‘It was dark and she didn’t take much notice. She didn’t think she’d seen it before, though.’

‘OK. What about the final couple?’

‘Daniel Turton and Mark Salt. Mark is currently in hospital with a burst appendix so there’s only Daniel at the flat. He’s seen Caitlyn a few times. She’s taken parcels in for him when he’s been at work. He was very upset by the murder.’

‘Right,’ Matilda stood up. ‘Out of that lot we have Bryce Mitchell, Tom Caulder, Daniel Turton and Mark Salt. What are their alibis for the night of Claire and Caitlyn’s attacks?’

‘Well, Bryce was working at the Northern General,’ Rita said. ‘He showed me all his shifts and hours marked down in his diary. It looked more like he was planning some kind of expose on the NHS with all his comments. Tom Caulder was at home for Julia’s rape last month. Julie confirmed that. He can’t remember where he was for Caitlyn’s last year. He says it’s too far back to remember.’

‘Daniel Turton said he and Mark were in their flat all night on the night Julia was raped. They were on holiday in Madrid when Caitlyn was raped.’

‘So,’ Matilda thought. ‘That only leaves Tom Caulder.’

‘He doesn’t match the description, though,’ Rita said. ‘He’s not over six foot, and, no offence, but he’s not handsome either.’

‘Julie obviously thinks so,’ Sian said.

‘If you saw the thickness of her lenses you’d know why,’ Rita laughed.

‘OK. Well, we’ll keep Tom Caulder on the back burner. Sian, what have her colleagues at the vets said about Caitlyn?’

‘They’re all devastated. They had nothing but nice things to say about her – hard worker, funny, intelligent, lovely to be around. She really cared about the animals who came into the vets.’

‘What about the night she was raped? She was out with some of her colleagues, wasn’t she?’ Matilda asked.

‘Three of the women from the surgery. It was a birthday celebration. They were all slightly … you know …’

‘Pissed?’ Rita suggested.

‘Something like that. Caitlyn said she was going home around midnight. She told them she was getting a taxi.’

‘They didn’t go with her?’

‘No.’

‘They could have at least taken her to the taxi rank then gone back into the club,’ Rita said. ‘That’s what me and my mates do when one of us leaves early.’

‘Did they know about her being raped?’ Matilda asked.

‘Not at first, but eventually they noticed a change in her behaviour. She kept missing days, which is something she never did. Eventually, she told one of her colleagues what had happened.’

‘That ties in with what Caitlyn’s parents said yesterday,’ Matilda said, nodding towards Anna.

‘Nobody tried to get her to go to the police?’ Anna asked.

‘According to one of the nurses at the vets, they did, but she said it was too late and she was dealing with it in her own way.’

‘So, what changed her mind?’ Aaron asked.

‘I’m guessing it was the news reports about Julia’s rape,’ Sian said.

‘Right. Phone records. Sian?’

‘Hang on,’ she checked her email. ‘Still not arrived. I’ll chase them up.’

‘CCTV?’

‘None in the vicinity I’m afraid,’ Rita said.

‘OK. Well, we’re getting the intelligence from DI Hales regarding their rape investigations. When that comes through all their suspects will need interviewing again and alibis for Sunday night. I think it’s time I met Julia Adams. See if she can shed some light on a potential killer. Sian, liaise with DS Tanner. As soon as you get some information about the latest rape, let me know.’

Matilda turned to look at the smiling face of Caitlyn Brown on the murder board. She was so young, so innocent. It was shocking to think someone could have raped and murdered her. If it was the same person, why had he left it from October until March? Had he been watching her all that time? Had he been taunting her? The level of depravity didn’t bare thinking about.

Chapter Eight

PC Kesinka Rani entered the MIT and made straight for Matilda’s office. She knocked quietly on the door and waited. When Matilda called her in, she closed the door behind her and took a seat in front of the desk.

‘Ma’am, I’ve spoken to Julia Adams. I didn’t mention anything about Caitlyn’s murder, but she saw the newspaper last night, and she said something I thought you’d find interesting.’

‘Go on,’

‘Well, Julia showed me the newspaper. It had a photo of Caitlyn in it and she asked me if I thought they looked alike. I hadn’t realized before, but they do.’

Matilda sighed and leaned back in her chair. ‘Have you got a photo of Julia Adams?’

Kesinka rummaged through her file and pulled one out. She handed it across the table.

‘Wow, they really do.’

‘I know.’

‘If sodding DI Hales had given us all this information from the start we might have seen it sooner.’

Matilda moved from behind her desk and into the main room. She placed the photo of Julia Adams onto the murder board.

‘Another development,’ she said to everyone. ‘Julia Adams and Caitlyn Brown have a similar look – dark hair, quite small, slim, attractive. Is this our rapist’s and possibly our killer’s type? Somebody please tell me DI Hales has sent across all his intel.’

‘Yes, he has,’ Sian said. ‘However, on the night Julia Adams was raped she was out with friends and they went from pub to pub to pub. We’ve got so many hours’ worth of CCTV footage to go through, not just from the pubs, but from the streets too. DI Hales has three DCs on it.’

‘Right. We need to identify a suspect as soon as possible. I want images of every man who matches the description, I don’t care how grainy. Then we can sit down with Julia Adams and get her to have a look at them.’

‘Ma’am,’ Kesinka said, walking up to the DCI and keeping her voice low. ‘Julia Adams will speak to you on one condition.’

‘Go on.’

‘You don’t hide anything from her. She’s frightened that whoever killed Caitlyn is going to come after her. She wants you to tell her everything so she can take precautions.’

‘That’s understandable. OK. Set up a meeting.’

Julia Adams was ten years older than Caitlyn Brown. At thirty-three, Julia lived in a small two-bedroom house in Endcliffe. As she tentatively opened the door to Matilda and Kesinka, Matilda was struck by how closely she resembled Caitlyn. She could have easily passed for her older sister.

Julia showed the officers into her house and closed the door behind them, securely locking it. She ushered them into the living room and offered to make them a cup of tea. Kesinka jumped into action and said she would make it.

‘I’ve lost count of the amount of tea I’ve been drinking lately,’ Julia said, trying to make light of the situation. She spoke softly in a local accent. Her dyed dark hair was in need of touching up, her light roots showing. She looked tired, drawn, and her skin was dry. The last thing on her mind was taking care of her appearance.

The living room was tastefully decorated in bold colours. Minimalist furniture lined the walls, everything neat and tidy. Julia sat in the centre of a grey sofa. She seemed uncomfortable in her own surroundings.

‘I’m paranoid. I used to put the bolt and chain on when I went to bed. Now I put them on all the time. Silly, isn’t it? Like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.’

‘It’s understandable,’ Matilda said. ‘Julia, we’re currently going through CCTV footage of the pubs and the areas you visited on the night of the attack. Do you think you’d recognize your attacker again if you saw an image of him?’

‘I’m not sure. When I think about it … when I close my eyes and picture it … I get patches of what he looked like, his build, his clothes. But when it comes to his face, I’m really not sure.’

‘Anything you can give us will be very helpful.’

‘I’ll try.’

Kesinka came in with a tray of mugs and set it down carefully on the coffee table.

‘About the other victim, Caitlyn,’ Julia took another sip of tea. ‘She was … attacked before me, wasn’t she?’

‘Yes. October last year,’ Matilda said.

‘Did she say why she didn’t report it?’

‘She was frightened,’ Kesinka said. ‘She was only twenty-three. She was living on her own for the first time, she’d only been in her flat for a few months. She was incredibly scared.’

‘And the description she gave, it matches the man who attacked me?’

‘It does,’ Matilda said.

‘Was the attack the same too?’

‘Yes,’

‘So there’s a serial rapist out there.’

‘That’s what we believe,’ Matilda said, uncomfortably.

‘Did Caitlyn suffer? When she was killed, I mean.’

‘We don’t think so.’

‘Do you think the killer was watching her? Could he be watching me?’ She asked. Her voice broke and a single tear fell down her face.

‘To be honest, Julia, I really don’t know,’ Matilda said. It wasn’t the answer she wanted to give but it was the truth.

‘What should I do? Should I move out?’

‘That is entirely up to you,’ Kesinka said, placing a hand on Julia’s knee. ‘Whatever you decide, we’ll support you all the way.’

‘This is my home. I should feel comfortable here, but I don’t.’

‘Is there anyone who can come and stay with you?’

‘Not really. I have a sister, but she’s in Dundee.’

‘What about friends or colleagues?’

Julia wrinkled her nose. ‘I don’t have anyone that close I want to share all this with.’

‘Julia,’ Matilda said, leaning forward. ‘I’m going to be honest with you: we don’t have the budget to offer you round-the-clock protection. However, you have Kesinka’s mobile and I’ll give you mine. I’ll also get patrol cars to come back on a regular basis during the day and night. If you ever feel like you need help you can call us or dial 999 and we’ll be here in minutes.’

Julia tried to smile. ‘But if Caitlyn was killed with a single blow to her head it would only take minutes to kill me, wouldn’t it?’

Matilda and Kesinka exchanged glances.

‘We are doing everything in our power to catch this man,’ Matilda said. The words sounded pathetic in her head.

Chapter Nine

‘I feel so useless,’ Matilda said.

She was sitting in the static home, swirling dark red wine around in her glass. She took a sip. It was her third glass of the evening. She pulled back the curtain and looked out into the dark night. ‘I keep thinking that he’s out there, walking around like he’s done nothing wrong. Is he eyeing up his next victim? Am I going to get into work tomorrow and find out that he’s raped another one, or murdered Julia Adams?’

‘Has there been a third rape?’ James asked, taking her empty wine glass away and replacing it with a mug of coffee.

‘Yes, but it’s not connected. A woman had split up with her boyfriend and he’d been lying in wait for her after work.’

‘Bastard,’ James said.

There was a knock on the door.

‘We never get visitors,’ Matilda said.

James opened the door and Adele Ward entered, carrying a couple of boxes of pizza.

‘Hello lovers, I thought you might be hungry,’ she said with a smile.

‘Adele, what are you doing here?’ Matilda asked, an edge to her voice.

‘What does it look like?’

‘I mean, you didn’t come here on your own did you? There’s a violent rapist out there.’

Adele placed the pizza boxes down on the table and emptied out her bag next to them. ‘Whistle, small can of deodorant to spray in his eyes, a large pebble to hit him with. I’m perfectly safe,’ she said, grinning.

‘Is that a packet of condoms?’ James asked, reaching over Adele’s shoulder.

‘Never you mind, James,’ she slapped his hand away.

‘It is, isn’t it? Ooh, are you hoping to get lucky?’

‘Well, I was in the girl guides. It’s always best to be prepared for any eventuality. Besides, they’ve been in my bag for so long I think the rubber has probably perished by now.’

Matilda watched the exchange between her husband and best friend. As much as she wanted to join in the fun, she couldn’t help but worry about the women walking the streets of Sheffield alone tonight, the potential dangers they faced. Matilda tried not to take her work home with her, but, occasionally, a case pulled you in. It affected you in ways you couldn’t imagine. This was one such case. Men who raped women for their own sick pleasure were nothing more than scum.

‘Matilda, are you with us?’ Adele asked.

‘What?’ She looked up.

‘Meat feast or pepperoni?’

‘Sorry. I was miles away.’

The Darke’s hadn’t planned anything to eat. Neither of them could be bothered to cook and Matilda wasn’t in the mood to go out. She wanted a quiet evening slumped on the uncomfortable sofa bed in her jogging bottoms until it was time to fall asleep. The smell of pizza suddenly reminded her that she was hungry.

While they were eating, James showed Adele the improved house plans, which included a large conservatory to fit a full-size pool table. The look on Matilda’s face said that was never going to happen.

Once they were relaxed with another bottle of wine, the topic turned back to Matilda’s case. The subject had been on the periphery all evening; it was written all over Matilda’s face. She had an air of sadness about her that could only come from her work.

‘Isn’t there any way you can lure him out?’ James asked.

‘Where would we start? Do you have any idea how many pubs and clubs there are in Sheffield, not just the town centre either? We have a vague description and he could be lurking anywhere.’

‘That’s my point,’ James said. ‘Send in an undercover officer who looks like your victims and get him that way. Keep trying, various locations, various nights.’

‘I doubt the ACC will go for that. She certainly wouldn’t approve the overtime.’

‘It shouldn’t be about money,’ Adele said. ‘There are women’s lives at stake.’

‘But one conviction compared with thousands of hours of overtime doesn’t balance, unfortunately.’

‘God, I’d hate your job,’ James said. ‘I’d bankrupt the force in a week if I was in charge.’

Adele suppressed a yawn. ‘Well, I’d better be heading back.’

‘Not on your own, you’re not.’ Matilda said. ‘It’s pitch black out there.’

‘I came by car. It’s in your drive. I can see it from here.’

‘I don’t care. James can take you.’

‘But that means leaving you here on your own,’ Adele said.

‘Well, how about we both go to Adele’s, see her in her house, then come back?’ James said.

‘You’re talking about me like I’m a child,’ Adele smiled.

‘Come on,’ James stood up and held a hand out for Adele to hold. ‘Let’s get you home safe and sound and tucked up in bed.’

Adele laughed. ‘Ooh, it’s been years since I was tucked up in bed by a man.’

‘Bring those condoms with you,’ he joked.

On the way back to their home, Matilda dozed in the front passenger seat, feeling the effect of five glasses of wine. She glanced across at James driving, keeping his eyes on the dark road ahead, and was thankful she had someone to protect and look after her. In the twenty-first century, she felt she should be independent, she didn’t need a man by her side, but at times like this, it was comforting to know she had someone like James in her life. It was a shame Adele didn’t too.

‘Have I got pizza on my face?’ James asked.

‘No. Why?’

‘I can feel you looking at me.’

‘I like looking at you.’

‘Well, I am a vision,’ he smiled.

Matilda laughed. She turned away and glared out at the darkness of the steel city. James’s words from earlier in the evening echoed in her head. Couldn’t you lure him out? She immediately thought of DC Rita Morgan – small, dyed black hair, attractive. She had a similar appearance to Caitlyn Brown and Julia Adams. Matilda wondered if she was interested in some undercover work.

Chapter Ten

Thursday March 10, 2011

From her glass-walled office, Matilda stared out into the Murder Room, as it was affectionately nicknamed. Her eyes were on one person – DC Rita Morgan. The more she looked, the more Rita seemed to resemble Julia Adams and Caitlyn Brown. If the rapist was attacking a certain type of woman, Rita fitted that bill. Matilda called her into her office and asked her to close the door.

‘Have a seat, Rita,’ Matilda said. ‘How are you getting on in the MIT?’

‘Fine. Very well, actually. I’m enjoying it,’ she said with a nervous smile.

‘Good. You requested to be considered for a role here, why was that?’

‘I like the idea of a specialist department, ma’am. I feel we can concentrate all our energies on a specific crime. It gives us more time to investigate thoroughly,’ Rita said. Her eyes were wondering around the room. She had the edgy look of someone about to be chastised for something she hadn’t done.

‘Rita, you’re a very dedicated officer, and although the MIT has only been in operation for three months, your hard work has not gone unnoticed. Now, this hasn’t been cleared with the ACC yet, so keep it between us, but how would you feel about doing some undercover work?’

Rita visibly relaxed in her seat. She stayed silent for a moment and then the penny dropped. ‘Is this because I look a bit like Caitlyn and Julia?’ She asked.

She’ll go far.

‘It is,’ Matilda smiled. ‘I’d make sure you had full back-up, and you’d be wearing a wire. I’ll also put undercover officers in the pubs and clubs with you. At no time would you be alone,’ she added quickly to reassure the wide-eyed detective.

Rita didn’t give the matter any thought at all. ‘I’ll do it,’ she replied confidently. ‘I can’t stand the thought of a bloke out there terrorising women. If this will help catch him, let’s do it.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Absolutely not!’ Valerie Masterson exclaimed. ‘I don’t know how you can even conceive of such a notion.’

Matilda looked shocked. She genuinely thought the ACC would back her up. The expression on Valerie’s face and the stern tone in her voice told Matilda how disappointed she was with her.

‘Why?’

‘If you really need to ask that you’re not showing your team any respect. You’re honestly considering placing a DC in danger at the hands of a rapist? Not to mention the logistics of officers being taken off their existing duties to act as back-up. One,’ she began, counting the options on her fingers, ‘the overtime bill would go through the roof. Two, you don’t know which pub or club your victims were targeted in. Three, this isn’t a one-night operation, it would take days, weeks. And four, DC Morgan has been out of uniform for just four months. She has no undercover experience whatsoever.’

‘There is a man out there raping and murdering women,’ Matilda said, raising her voice. ‘He needs to be stopped.’

‘You don’t know the rapes and the murder of Caitlyn Brown are connected.’

‘Oh come on, of course they are,’ Matilda scoffed.

‘Until you have evidence, until you have a suspect, the answer is no.’

Matilda took a deep breath. ‘Fine. Can I make an appointment to see you on Monday morning, first thing?’

Valerie frowned. ‘Why?’

‘To repeat this conversation following the vicious rape of another innocent girl over the weekend.’

‘Don’t be flippant, DCI Darke. The answer is no.’

Matilda turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her. Outside, in the corridor, she swivelled and raised two fingers at Valerie’s door. Yes, it was childish, but there was nothing to kick.

Richard Tanner had lost a lot of weight while he’d been away with mumps. He looked better for it, too. The once rotund DS, with a double chin and moobs, now had a sharp jawline and flat-ish stomach.

In the CID incident room, he stood behind two DCs who were sitting in front of three monitors. Next to them were Matilda Darke and DI Ben Hales.

‘We’ve identified fifty-six different images of men who match the description,’ Richard said.

‘Fifty-six?’ Matilda asked.

‘It’s a lot, I know, but, some of them aren’t great. A few could be the same bloke.’

‘Do we have clear facial pictures?’ Ben asked.

‘I’d say about twenty percent could be identified.’

Matilda blew out her cheeks. ‘Disappointing.’

‘However, if Julia Adams were to look at these, something might trigger a memory – the style of his shirt, his hair, I don’t know,’ Richard said.

‘OK. Get them on file and send Kesinka to Julia’s house to go through them,’ Ben said.

‘Will do.’

‘Ben, can I have a word?’ Matilda asked DI Hales as he headed back to his office.

He continued walking into his office and allowed Matilda to follow him. She rolled her eyes. Was he just going to allow his anger and bitterness to fester and mutate? She’d hate to be around when it finally exploded. Fingers crossed she and James would be living somewhere rural by then, where he could design in inspirational surroundings and she could oversee several divisions as Chief Constable.

Matilda closed the door behind her and filled Ben in on her undercover idea.

‘I like it. Valerie will never agree, though.’

Did Ben just agree with something I suggested?

‘Maybe if you had a word with her, too, backed me up,’ she said.

‘I don’t think so.’

Spoke too soon.

‘Why not? You just said it was a good idea.’

‘It is, but Valerie’s right. The logistics aren’t sound. There are so many pubs and clubs in Sheffield we could be out every night for six months.’

‘We have a list of the places Julia and Caitlyn visited. We’ll start there.’

‘You mean I have a list of the places they visited. My team have done the leg-work.’

Matilda said, rolling her eyes. ‘This is a shared operation.’

‘Do you honestly think the rapist is going to be sat at home thinking “I’ll go back to the Red Lion on Saturday. I had success there once, I might get another chance?”’

‘No need for sarcasm.’

‘He’s clever. He hasn’t been caught because he’s not taking any risks by shitting on his own doorstep.’

‘All the more reason to send Rita Morgan undercover.’

‘And she’s all wrong, for a start.’

‘Oh, you think it should be someone from your team?’ Matilda scoffed.

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to,’ she said, her hands on her hips.

‘She’s too green. If things went wrong, she wouldn’t cope—’

‘You don’t know her!’ Matilda raised her voice. ‘Rita Morgan is one of my best DCs. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this task.’

Ben stared down at his desk, as if summing up the evidence. He took a deep breath then looked up at Matilda. ‘No,’ he said firmly.

Chapter Eleven

Matilda needed to get out of the station before she said something she’d later regret. She found Kesinka getting into her car to visit Julia Adams and said she would accompany her. Neither of them spoke on the journey. Matilda was more than happy to allow the PC to lead the conversation, once they were inside Julia’s house and sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in their hands.

‘Julia, we’ve been through the CCTV footage of the places you visited, and we’ve managed to identify several people who fit the description. Unfortunately, the images aren’t that great, but we’re hoping you’ll be able to find the culprit. Are you up to taking a look?’

Kesinka was perfect at putting people at ease. She had a warm, gentle voice, and the friendly manner of someone who genuinely cared. Sitting next to Julia on the sofa, she was more like a friend offering comfort than an out-of-uniform PC seeking answers.

‘I’ll try,’ Julia said.

As Kesinka reached down for the laptop in her bag, Julia took a deep breath. The thought of coming face to face with her rapist was obviously stirring up all kinds of conflicting emotions.

‘You don’t have to do this,’ Matilda said, leaning forward in her comfortable armchair.

‘No. I need to. I wouldn’t feel right if he went on and did it again.’

‘Don’t think like that,’ Kesinka said. ‘Don’t force yourself if you’re not comfortable.’

‘That’s the thing: I’ll never feel comfortable until he’s behind bars.’

Kesinka opened the laptop and turned it on. She clicked the file and waited until Julia gave her the nod to go through the photos.

‘Any time you want me to stop, just say.’

Kesinka placed the laptop on the coffee table and the first photo appeared on the screen. It was an image of a tall thin man in profile, and not a great one at that. He had dark hair and wore a checked shirt and skinny jeans. He was leaning against a wall in a pub, drink in one hand, talking to another man.

‘It’s not him,’ Julia said straight away. ‘Too skinny.’

Kesinka pressed the right arrow key and the image changed.

‘Nope,’ Julia said.

They went through another fifteen images, each time Julia said an emphatic no.

‘I’m sorry,’ she sat back on the sofa and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘I know what he looks like when I close my eyes; I can see him. It’s just … it’s difficult to put it into words. Saying he’s tall and well-built is very … vague, isn’t it?’

‘Julia, you’re doing great,’ Kesinka said. ‘I don’t think I could even sit here looking through these pictures.’

‘Kesinka’s right, Julia,’ Matilda said. ‘If he’s not in any of these images, don’t worry about it. We’ll still find him.’

Julia smiled. ‘OK.’

Kesinka took Julia through the rest of the gallery, but she didn’t find him. She hesitated on a couple but wasn’t confident enough to give an affirmative answer.

‘I’m probably about seventy percent positive on a couple of the pictures,’ she said, ‘but this is accusing someone of rape, isn’t it? If I’m wrong, I could ruin his life. It’s bad enough my life has been ruined without anyone else’s.’ She wiped a tear away.

‘Julia, do you have anyone to stay with you?’ Matilda asked.

She nodded. ‘My sister is going to take some time off to come down and stay with me.’

‘That’s good. It’ll take time to come to terms with what happened, but you’re a very strong woman, you will survive this.’

‘I know,’ she wiped her eyes. ‘I’m trying to think of him as pathetic and worthless, that I’m much better than him, but then I remember him … on me. I can feel his breath and his hands and I feel so dirty and sick. I can’t get that thought out of my mind.’

Matilda made a note of the two images Julia Adams had hesitated over. She didn’t think any of the men had raped her, but with these two, she said they sort of looked like him.

Once back in her office, Matilda printed off the pictures and put them side by side. Both men were handsome-ish, in their late thirties and well-built, dressed in jeans and a shirt, one of them more chubby that fit. The pictures had been taken from two different pubs in Sheffield city centre, but they were from the same night.

Matilda sent Rita Morgan and Anna Evans to the pubs with the print-outs to interview the staff and see if they recognized them. She knew it was a long shot, especially judging by the state of the image, but she kept her fingers crossed.

By the time of the evening briefing, she had her answer. No one had recognized the blurred people in the images. Matilda had been expecting as much.

‘So, where are we then?’ Matilda asked.

‘CCTV footage has drawn a blank,’ Rita Morgan said. ‘You’d think in this day and age the images would be better.’

‘I had a word with Julia Adams again,’ Kesinka said. ‘She’s going to sleep on it then have another look at the images, and I’ll see her in the morning.’

‘Excellent,’ Matilda said.

‘I’ve been speaking to Forensics,’ Sian said. ‘Finger prints belonging to her mother and father, and the neighbour, Polly Nicoletti, have been found, but they all had legitimate reasons to be in there.’

‘Are we still saying the paper weight was the murder weapon?’ Richard Tanner asked.

‘That’s what Adele thinks,’ Sian said.

‘If that’s the case, why leave it behind? Surely you’d take it with you.’

‘From the killer’s point of view,’ Matilda said, ‘if he or she was wearing gloves they’d have had no reason to take it with them. They’ve left no prints and it’s much harder to throw a murder weapon away then just leave it where it is.’

‘True.’

‘He or she?’ Anna Evans asked.

‘It was a blow to the back of the head; anyone could have done it,’ Matilda said.

‘I thought we were working on the assumption that the killer was the man who raped her.’

‘Not necessarily. Caitlyn Brown claims she was raped in October last year. It’s now March. Why would he wait five months?’

The room fell silent.

‘So we need to look elsewhere in Caitlyn’s life. Who had a motive?’ Richard asked.

‘I like to think you’ve all been doing that already.’

Sian went back over what the neighbours and co-workers had said about Caitlyn.

‘What about family? Surely there’s more than just her parents.’

‘No. She’s an only child,’ Anna said. ‘Her parents said she was always a quiet person.’

‘Phone records? Mobile phone?’ Matilda asked, getting slightly annoyed at the lack of progress.

‘The last person to call her landline was her mother on the Sunday morning. Caitlyn called her mother herself on Sunday night, which matches what her mother said in her statement,’ Aaron said, reading from his notebook. ‘As for the mobile, there’s very little activity on there. She rarely makes calls, it’s all texts, and that’s to work colleagues.’

‘What about social media?’

‘She had a Facebook account, but that’s all,’ Aaron said. ‘Again, she hardly used it, and only had twenty-three friends. I’ve looked at them, and none match the description of her attacker. She rarely updated her status or posted pictures.’

‘Quite a sad life for a young woman,’ Rita said.

‘Some people prefer the quiet,’ Sian said.

‘Yes, but not usually at her age,’ Rita said.

Matilda told everyone to go home. She waited until the room was empty before she went over to the murder board and looked up at the photograph of Caitlyn Brown in her veterinary nurse’s uniform. She had a sweet face, an honest, trusting smile, yet, looking deep into her light brown eyes, Matilda saw a hint of sadness.

Matilda knocked on Valerie’s door. When she entered, she saw the ACC with her coat on, tidying up her desk.

‘Ma’am, Julia Adams has taken a look at the images we’ve obtained from various pubs and clubs around Sheffield city centre. She’s identified two possible hits.’

‘That’s good.’

‘Now, we’ve interviewed the staff at the places they were in and although they don’t know these men by name, apparently they’re regulars. Surely that’s enough to send Rita in undercover,’ Matilda said. She hated having to lie, but the thought of a rapist getting away with his crime made her blood run cold.

Valerie paused in what she was doing and looked down at her desk. ‘I don’t like this, Matilda.’

‘There wouldn’t be any danger. Rita will be given strict instructions. She’ll be wired up. I’ll have other officers in the pubs with her.’

Valerie sighed; her expression pained.

‘If there was another way, ma’am, I would, but there is a rapist out there and he’s going to strike again.’ Valerie didn’t say anything so Matilda continued. ‘Maybe he has done it before. We only know about Julia and Caitlyn, but who knows how many women are out there suffering in silence?’

‘Fine. OK. Do it. I don’t like it, but if it gets results. Just make sure Rita is aware of the risks.’

‘I will. Thank you, ma’am.’

Matilda left the room and smiled as she headed for the car park. There is no way this bastard is going to claim a third victim.

Chapter Twelve

Friday March 11, 2011.

DI Ben Hales was not happy to have most of his officers stolen from his team without being consulted. He had stormed into ACC Masterson’s office and demanded to be part of the operation. Unfortunately for Matilda, the ACC had caved, which is why Matilda was spending Friday night in the back of an unmarked 4×4 with Hales alongside her for company.

In the front were two DCs. They had equipment to record all of Rita Morgan’s conversations for evidence. Matilda had two airwave radios. One was solely so she could talk to Rita through her earpiece. She had spent the day training her, drumming the rules into her: how she must remain in contact with Matilda at all times, how she must not embark on a course of action that could risk her physical or mental wellbeing, or allow any potential target to lead the conversation. There could be no sign of entrapment coming from the side of the police. Rita was also reminded that at any time during the operation, if she felt uncomfortable or simply changed her mind, she could ask to withdraw. The role of an undercover officer was voluntary, and her safety was paramount.

The other radio was so Matilda could talk to the other undercover officers who were dotted around the pub.

Ben sat with his arms folded. His officers were being used and he was not allowed to direct them. The anger and frustration radiating from him filled the car with a heavy and awkward atmosphere. The Land Rover sat in a poorly-lit car park on Holly Street, just behind the City Hall.

‘Plenty of CCTV,’ Ben said, angling himself to look out of the window.

‘The ones in the car park are probably dummies,’ Matilda said.

Ben rolled his eyes.

‘Going into Lloyd’s now, ma’am,’ Rita said over the radio.

‘Great. Remember, you’re on a night out. Smile, have fun, and relax.’

Rita wasn’t alone. She had DC Anna Evans with her. They were two single, young women having a Friday night out. Rita had her dark hair down, just like Caitlyn and Julia on the nights they were attacked. She also wore similar clothes: short black skirt and a light-coloured top, revealing but not too obvious. Her lips were painted a vivid red, her eye make-up understated. She needed to be bold enough to draw attention, but not memorable to other drinkers. The attacker would want her alone and isolated as quickly as possible.

‘Remember what he looks like,’ Matilda said. ‘Take care.’

‘I hope this works,’ Ben said.

‘It will,’ Matilda replied with confidence she didn’t feel.

He sat back and folded his arms again. ‘I don’t know why I’m so worried, it’s not my operation. It’s you who’ll get bollocked if this goes tits up.’

‘Thanks. Have you considered a job in motivational speaking?’

There were sniggers from the front seat. Ben remained silent.

Rita ordered two vodka and orange juices from the barman and looked across at Anna who seemed more nervous that she did.

‘You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself,’ Rita said quietly.

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

The drinks arrived and they both had a good long swig to settle their nerves.

‘Let’s mingle.’

Across the pub, Aaron Connolly was with Sian Mills, who was relishing the fact she was on a night out for the first time in years. She had told her husband all about the undercover operation and he was fine with her being seen with the handsome, brooding Aaron who was almost a decade younger than her. Richard Tanner and DS Christian Brady were posing as two blokes on the pull. Christian had gone for a black shirt with the top two buttons open and dark jeans. Richard looked like a drunken British tourist on the Costa del Sol, his shirt so bright it could have powered the entire pub. PCs Rory Fleming, Faith Easter, Scott Andrews, and Melanie Fletcher were a party of four. All bases were covered. There was nothing for Rita Morgan to worry about.

Rita turned to Anna and lowered her voice. She made it look like she was talking to her companion, but she spoke into her earpiece. ‘A potential suspect at the opposite side of the bar to us. Tight white shirt, dark hair. He’s on his own drinking a pint.’

‘OK, Rita,’ Matilda instructed. ‘Finish your drink then go towards him and order another. Make it appear you’re on your own. Everyone else, standby.’

Rita took a deep breath and drained her glass. She placed it on the table and gave Anna a nervous smile.

With as much confidence as she could muster, Rita strode over to the bar. She was inches away from the potential suspect. As he took a drink, she had a quick glance at him. He was well over six foot, with a rugby player build, and he was incredibly good looking.

‘What can I get you, love?’ the barman asked Rita, making her jump.

‘A vodka and orange, please.’

‘What about your friend?’ He asked.

‘Oh, she’s a light weight,’ Rita said, quickly. ‘I don’t know why she comes out. A couple of drinks and she’s ready for bed. I’m just getting started,’ she said flirtatiously to the barman, but loud enough for the handsome man to overhear.

‘My kind of girl,’ he said.

‘Girl? I bet I’m older than you,’ she said to the barman who barely looked old enough to drink in the pub, let alone serve.

He placed the glass on the bar, and she handed over a five-pound note. ‘I’m twenty-three,’ the barman said. ‘And I bet you’re not much older.’

He went over to the till. Rita tutted loudly and turned. She made eye contact with the potential suspect. ‘Can you believe some people?’ She said to him.

He smiled and gave a guttural chuckle.

‘Too young for me, anyway,’ Rita continued. ‘It would be like dating my little brother.’

He repeated the chuckle and took another drink. He didn’t seem to be interested in her at all.

‘Sorry I’m late. Traffic on the ring road was just crawling.’ A tall man with blond hair walked up to the potential suspect, put his arm around his shoulder and kissed him firmly on the lips. ‘Want another or shall we go?’

Rita smiled to herself, picked up her drink and headed back to Anna. ‘He’s not our guy.’

By two o’clock in the morning, Rita, Anna, and the undercover crew had been in pubs up and down West Street and Division Street. It was obvious they weren’t going to meet the rapist tonight. Matilda called off the operation and instructed Aaron and Sian to take Rita and Anna home. Everyone was to have a good night’s sleep and be in the incident room for a briefing at eleven o’clock tomorrow morning. They would repeat the operation tomorrow night.

‘How long are you going to do this for?’ Ben asked.

‘Until we catch him.’

‘What if he’s gone on holiday?’

‘Then we’ll get him eventually.’

‘The ACC is going to love all this overtime.’ His reply dripped with sarcasm.

Matilda didn’t respond. Ben wasn’t worth talking to when he was in this mood. She instructed the DC in the driving seat to take them back to the station. She couldn’t wait to get home and climb into bed beside her sleeping husband. Five hours trapped in the back of a car with Ben Hales was enough to have anyone reaching for the vodka bottle.

Chapter Thirteen

Saturday March 12, 2011

‘I’m not used to going out drinking all night,’ DC Anna Evans complained as she entered the Murder Room wearing a short black skirt and white shirt. ‘My feet are killing me in these heels.’

‘Blimey, Anna, how old are you?’ Rita asked.

‘Same as you.’

‘Well you sound about twenty years older. Don’t you go out anymore?’

‘Yes,’ she almost snapped. ‘I’m not into clubs though. I usually go for meals with my mates or the theatre.’

‘Oh,’ was all Rita said. Most weekends Rita could be found in Paris or Forward until the small hours of the morning. It was her way of unwinding, forgetting the violence people inflicted on each other, the horrors of witnesses and disturbing crime scenes. Loud music vibrating through the floors and copious amounts of alcohol rushing through her. ‘You didn’t enjoy last night, then?’

‘Five hours going from pub to pub looking for a rapist? Oh I had a ball.’

‘That bloke in the Frog and Parrot was all right. He was well into you.’

‘Do you think so?’ Anna asked, trying, but failing, to hide a smile.

‘Absolutely. He wasn’t bad looking either.’

‘I do like guys with red hair and stubble.’

‘There you go then. Not a wasted evening. You should have given him your number.’

‘He gave me his,’ Anna said. She rummaged in her impossibly tiny handbag and pulled out his business card, then handed it to Rita.

‘Thomas Beaumont,’ she read. ‘Sounds a bit posh. What’s a banking facilitator?’

‘I’ve no idea. He did say but it didn’t really make any sense.’

‘I bet he’s worth a few quid. Are you going to ring him?’

‘I don’t know,’ Anna blushed.

‘Go on, live a little. Send him a text at least.’

‘Do you think I should?’

‘Yes. Don’t do it now. Give it until tomorrow evening. Don’t let him think you’re desperate.’

Matilda entered the incident room wearing jeans and a thick sweater. She ushered the two DCs to follow her into her office. Rita closed the door behind them, and they all sat down.

‘OK,’ Matilda began. ‘Last night was a good effort. I didn’t think we’d find him straight away, but we got to see how things worked. You both did great, and the other undercover officers didn’t let you out of their sights. That shows you’re always going to be safe. Now, I want you to go a bit further tonight.’

‘What do you mean, ma’am?’ Rita asked.

‘You need to come across as more … what’s the word?’

‘Slutty?’ Rita finished Matilda’s sentence.

‘That wasn’t what I had in mind, but you’re in the right area.’

‘More available?’ Anna asked.

‘Yes. That’s it,’ Matilda said. ‘I’m not asking you to blatantly offer it on a plate. There’s a fine line between flirting and entrapment. I want you to come across like you’re out for a good time. Let your hair down. Last night you seemed a bit uptight. I’m guessing you were both nervous, which is understandable. But we need to raise our game.’ Matilda paused as she saw the frightened looks on the DCs’ faces. ‘Are you both comfortable with this?’

‘I will be once I’ve got a vodka inside me,’ Rita said.

‘I don’t want you getting pissed, Rita.’

‘I won’t. Trust me. I’m an expensive date,’ she sniggered.

‘Anna?’ Matilda asked.

‘I’m not really into the whole bars and club scene, but I’ll try.’

‘This is just between us, OK?’

‘Yes boss,’ they replied.

‘Good. Now, we’re going to start on West Street tonight. Have a couple in the Locker Room to begin with. It’s Saturday night so there should be more people out.’

‘Last night was pretty dead for a Friday night,’ Rita said.

‘Really? Any particular reason?’

‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged. ‘Maybe there was an England match on or something.’

‘Fingers crossed for a bigger crowd tonight.’

Matilda’s wish was granted. After the girls had relaxed with a couple of vodka and cokes in the Locker Room they moved on to the Maida Vale which was packed. Rita and Anna had to shout to be heard. It made monitoring their conversation in the 4×4 difficult, but at least it kept DI Hales quiet.

PCs Rory Fleming, Scott Andrews, Faith Easter and Melanie Fletcher were acting as a foursome again, while Sian had changed partners and was now with Christian. Aaron and Richard were posing as two mates eyeing up Sheffield’s talent. For the newly-married Aaron it was an act, but Richard was genuinely scouring the crowds for someone to take home.

Rita and Anna had loosened up slightly. After three drinks, Anna was bordering on tipsy, while Rita was still in control. She was used to drink. She did it every weekend.

‘Much busier than last night,’ Anna shouted, even though she was sitting on a stool next to Rita.

‘That’s good.’

‘Seen anyone of interest?’

‘There’s a few potentials, but, I don’t know, they’re not standing out for me.’

‘Who?’

‘Bloke behind me by the door. Tall, dark hair, blue shirt.’

Anna strained to look behind Rita, almost falling off her stool. ‘I see what you mean. He’s a bit chubby.’

‘I know. He’s not fat but you wouldn’t say he was fit, would you?’

‘No.’

‘Drink up. We’ll move on.’

‘OK everyone, get ready. Rita and Anna are going to move on,’ Matilda said to all the undercover officers over the radio.

‘Anna’s knocking them back tonight, isn’t she?’ Ben asked, a worried frown on his face.

‘She’s getting into character.’

‘She’s slurring.’

‘She’s only had three.’

‘If they get pissed, a prosecutor will tear them apart. Not only will they accuse us of entrapment, but they’ll blame Rita if she is attacked. They’ll say she was asking for it. I mean, does she have to wear a skirt that short?’

‘They’re two twenty-six-year-olds on a night out. That’s how they dress Ben,’ Matilda raised her voice.

‘I don’t like this,’ he said, folding his arms.

‘We’ve got all of my team, a large part of yours and dozens of uniforms undercover. Last night they weren’t out of sight for a single minute. Even when they went to the toilet one of the other women went too. There’s nothing to worry about.’

‘Then why do you look so tense?’ Ben asked.

‘Because I’m spending a Saturday night in the back of a car with you, when I could be at home shagging my husband, if you must know.’

Ben blushed and turned away. The two DCs in the front of the car struggled to hide their chuckles.

That’s shut him up. Finally.

As the night wore on, Matilda told Anna to cut back on the vodkas and stick to drinking coke or orange juice. She was more than tipsy now. As they left Varsity and made their way to The Swim Inn, Rita was practically holding Anna upright.

Ben wasn’t happy. He wanted to pull them both off and call it a night. Matilda refused. Seeing two inebriated women may be all the attacker needed to strike.

‘A bottle of Prosecco,’ Anna said, practically falling into the bar.

‘Stick to juice, Anna,’ Matilda warned.

‘I think you’ve had enough,’ Rita said. ‘Orange juice for her and I’ll have a vodka and coke,’ she said to the barman.

‘I thought you were fun, Rita,’ Anna slurred. ‘You talk about drinking until four in the morning and falling out of cabs, but look at you – stick to the juice, Anna. Boring!’

‘Shit,’ Rita said quietly, but loud enough for Matilda to hear.

‘Anna, go and sit down somewhere quiet,’ Matilda said into her ear.

‘Yes, boss. Anything you say, boss,’ Anna spoke loudly and gave an exaggerated salute.

‘Oh my God,’ Ben lowered his head.

‘OK Rita, make this your last drink. We’ll call it a night,’ Matilda knew it had gone far enough.’

‘Will do.’

‘Sian, go and sit with Anna. Make sure she’s all right.’

‘We’re already there,’ Sian replied.

‘Rita, stay at the bar on your own. Aaron, Richard, standby.’

‘This is going well, isn’t it? You must be so proud,’ Ben said with an air of sarcasm.

‘As a team they’re working fine together. I didn’t expect to catch him on the first weekend. It’s not like he’s out raping every night. We’ll get him, eventually.’

‘You won’t be using Anna again though, will you?’

‘I’ll see. I think she’s doing great.’

‘Of course you do.’

‘Why are you even here?’ Matilda asked.

‘Because you’re using my officers.’

‘And you want to claim the glory.’

‘It’s not about that?’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘No. I want to make sure my officers are safe.’

‘And keep an eye on me at the same time. Is this about the MIT again?’ Matilda asked.

Ben didn’t reply.

‘Jesus Christ, Ben,’ Matilda exploded. ‘Can’t you let it go?’

‘OK, no, I can’t. I should have been promoted to DCI over you. I’ve worked so much harder than you, yet I wasn’t even considered.’

‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ said the DC behind the steering wheel, ‘but we’ve lost radio contact with Rita Morgan.’

Rita finished her drink and headed for the toilets. She pushed her way past the packed pub and into the ladies’ loos. They were just as busy as the bar and she had to wait for a cubicle. Why did women seem to always congregate in the toilets to have a chat? All she wanted to do was pee and leave. She washed her hands, checked her hair in the stained mirror and left. She turned right and was halfway down a dimly lit corridor when she realized she’d gone the wrong way. All that was ahead was the fire escape. She turned back and jumped when she saw the silhouette of a man in front of her.

Rita clocked his appearance straight away – tall, dark hair, very handsome, solid build, fit, not fat. Shit.

‘Hello,’ he said, his accent deep, thick Sheffield.

‘Hello,’ Rita gulped. She tried not to look nervous but couldn’t help it. She tried to pass him, but he blocked her way.

‘On your own?’

‘No. I’ve got a friend in the bar. And my boyfriend’s joining me in a bit,’ she quickly added.

‘Your boyfriend?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t think so. I’ve been watching you all night. It’s just you and that lightweight. You should ditch her.’

‘She’s my best mate.’

‘What are you doing hanging around with her? Look at you, you’re well hot. Dark hair, gorgeous eyes, great tits.’

‘Well, thanks. I should be getting back.’

She tried to push past him again but he blocked her path.

‘No. I think you should have a drink with me.’

‘Thanks, but I’m really not interested.’

‘Why not? Plain Jane your lesbian lover, is she?’

‘No. I’m just not interested.’

‘Well I’m very interested.’

‘Not my problem, sorry.’

Rita pushed past him and was almost at the entrance to the bar when her hair was grabbed from behind and she was pulled into the shadows. A large clammy hand was slapped over her mouth.

‘One word from you and I’ll slice your fucking throat open. Understand?’ He whispered into her ear.

She nodded as tears began to fall. She hoped DCI Darke and the team were listening to all of this. Where was Aaron? Where was Richard? Surely they should have come to her rescue by now.

The man was much stronger than Rita. She didn’t stand a chance. He lifted her up off the floor and pushed the bar of the fire door open with his back. The cool night air was a shock. They were out in a poorly lit car park. There was no-one around, nothing but silence and the distant dull beat of music coming from the pubs and clubs.

The attacker threw Rita onto the cold hard ground. She quickly scrambled to her feet and tried to run but he lunged for her hair, grabbed it, and yanked her back.

‘I love a girl who puts up a fight. It makes it more fun,’ he said into her ear before licking the side of her face.

He pushed her onto the ground again, bent down, and slammed her head onto the concrete to daze her. Her stood over her, unbuttoned his jeans, pulled them down and forced himself on top of Rita.

The fire door opened and slammed against the wall of the pub. Aaron Connolly ran out into the night and stopped when he saw the man on top of Rita.

‘Hey,’ he shouted.

The attacker turned. ‘You can have her after me if you want?’ He winked.

‘You bastard!’

Aaron slapped his hands onto the man’s solid shoulders and tried to pull him up.

‘Fuck off!’ The rapist elbowed Aaron in the face.

The pain was indescribable as he felt his nose crack and his vision blur. Aaron stumbled backwards. He held his hands to his face and looked at his red palms. He tasted blood as he swallowed.

The rapist had turned back to Rita. He lifted her up. She was no match for his strength. ‘Fancy a gangbang do you, love?’

Rita tried to break free of his hold. He had one beefy arm around her neck and dragged her along the pavement. She kicked her legs to try and break free, but the grip around her neck tightened and she almost lost consciousness.

She opened her mouth to try to scream for Aaron, but nothing came out. She saw him bent double, his hands on his face.

‘Please,’ she cried. ‘Please.’

They came to a stop at the back of a white van in the corner of the car park. The attacker took a bunch of keys out of his back pocket and began to unlock the door.

‘I’ll take us somewhere nice,’ he hissed into Rita’s ear. ‘You’ll be able to scream as loud as you want; no-one will hear a word,’ he smiled.

‘Fuck you,’ she spat in his face.

He grinned. ‘Love a tough bitch.’

‘Then you’re going to love me,’ a voice said from beside the van. He turned and was about to respond when Matilda punched him hard in the face.

He stumbled backwards, releasing his hold on Rita. Matilda grabbed for the DC and pulled her to safety. The rapist tried to get up off the cold hard ground, but Matilda placed a foot on his chest and pushed him back down.

‘Don’t even think of moving, you fucking prick,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Aaron, cuff this bastard.’

Aaron stumbled to them, blood pouring down his face.

Rita took the cuffs from the back of Aaron’s jeans. She knelt down to the man who’d tried to rape her. With Matilda’s help, they turned him over and cuffed him.

‘You’re going to be very popular in prison,’ Rita whispered in his ear. She patted his bum. ‘This is going to see a lot of action. I hope you enjoy it.’

Chapter Fourteen

Monday March 14, 2011.

Matilda Darke knew she was in for a roasting; Valerie Masterson hadn’t offered her a coffee. She wondered if the ACC had refilled her cup purposely before she entered the office so she wouldn’t have to offer.

‘I’ve just got off the phone to Rita Morgan’s parents. She’s going home today.’

‘That’s good. Probably kept her in as a precaution.’

‘That’s beside the point. She should never have been in that position,’ Valerie said, her lips were pursed. ‘What happened?’

‘It was a radio black spot,’ Matilda said.

‘And that’s excusable, is it?’

‘We had eyes on her. Both Aaron and Richard were watching her. She even signalled to Aaron she was going to the toilets. When she’d been gone a while, he jumped into action.’

‘I’ve had Ben Hales’ report. He said Anna drank too much and wasn’t in a fit state for undercover work.’

Typical.

‘I had a word with Anna yesterday. She is very sorry for her actions.’

‘Ben also said he told you to call off the operation.’

‘No. He advised. It was my decision. Rita was the main target from the attacker’s point of view. We had eyes on her. I knew she was safe.’

‘She wasn’t though, was she?’

‘Apart from a slight concussion, she was fine,’ Matilda sighed.

‘It could have been so much worse, Matilda.’

‘I’m aware of that, but it wasn’t.’

‘Tell me about the interview,’ Valerie said, sitting back in her large seat and picking up her coffee cup.

‘Ah.’

Rita Morgan’s potential rapist was Wesley Bennett. A thirty-nine-year-old garage owner from Walkley in Sheffield. He was married to Sophie and had two young children. Once he had been arrested and charged, he was processed and dumped in a cell at HQ until a reasonable hour, when he was interviewed by Sian and Christian. Wesley had called his solicitor, the rotund Marcus Balham, whose restricted breathing due to his weight and tight collar was caught on the recording equipment, like an ever-present faulty air conditioning unit.

Wesley sat upright. He looked shattered following an uncomfortable night’s sleep on a thin mattress in a cold police cell. His light blue shirt was heavily creased, as was his once handsome face.

‘Mr Bennett,’ Sian began. ‘Can you tell us what you were doing with Rita Morgan in the car park of The Swim Inn in the early hours of this morning?’

‘We were, you know, going to have some fun.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes.’

‘She consented, did she?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you often bang the head of a potential partner onto concrete, incapacitating them?’

‘No,’ he half chuckled. ‘She slipped as she went down. She was still up for it.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. If she’d had said no, I’d have left her.’

‘For the benefit of the tape, I’m showing Mr Bennett image C182 from CCTV footage from The Swim Inn. Can you tell me why you have your hand over Rita Morgan’s mouth and you’re dragging her along the car park?’

‘It’s what she wanted.’

‘She asked you to grab her forcibly from behind?’

‘We don’t know that’s what he’s doing,’ Marcus Balham chimed in.

‘For what other reason would you grab someone like that?’ Sian asked Wesley and Marcus.

Christian picked up a small remote control and aimed it at a television screen on the wall. ‘I’m showing footage caught on camera from the car park of The Swim Inn.’

The camera was far away from the back doors of the pub, but it showed the whole car park. All four looked at the black and white image. Everything was still and silent until the door opened and Wesley stumbled out with his arms wrapped around Rita Morgan. He had one hand clamped over her mouth. She was kicking her legs to try and get free. She was thrown onto the ground where Wesley leaned over, lifted her head up, and slammed it back down on the ground. Christian stopped the footage.

‘Can you explain your actions here, Mr Bennett?’

‘We were just playing rough. Taken out of context, anything can look dodgy.’

‘Mr Bennett, can you tell us where you were on Friday October fifteenth last year?’ Sian asked.

‘How am I supposed to know that? It’s five months ago.’

‘How about Saturday February fifth this year?’

‘I work Saturdays.’

‘And in the evenings?’

‘I was probably out.’

‘And on March the sixth this year?’

Wesley was just about to shrug, when he seemed to remember something. ‘I was in Stockport at a funeral.’ He leaned back in his seat with a smug smile on his face.

‘Has that been confirmed?’ Valerie asked Matilda.

‘Yes. It was his mother’s funeral. Wesley Bennett even helped to carry the coffin into the church. There were more than one-hundred people attending and they all confirm Wesley was there.’

‘How long was he in Stockport?’

‘He stayed with his aunt from Sunday until Wednesday. He has an alibi for Caitlyn Brown’s murder.’

‘But not the rapes?’

‘No. We’ve taken DNA swabs and we’re waiting for the results. Kesinka Rani is seeing Julia Adams to see if she recognizes Wesley Bennett as her attacker.’

‘Let’s hope she does.’

‘At least we can charge him with the rapes.’

‘But you’re still no further forward with Caitlyn Brown’s murder?’

‘No, ma’am,’

‘Well, you’ve solved Ben Hales’ case, perhaps you can concentrate on your own now.’

Chapter Fifteen

‘Has there been a murder spree that no-one’s told me about?’ Matilda asked looking down on a row of three dead bodies in the mortuary.

‘Suspected carbon monoxide poisoning,’ Adele said. She walked past the bodies, not giving them a second glance and entered her office.

‘Can’t we go out for lunch? I don’t fancy eating with an audience.’

‘Don’t worry. You don’t have to share your sandwich with them.’

Sitting in Adele’s cramped office, they made themselves comfortable with a shop-bought sandwich and a takeaway latte from Costa.

‘So, you’re back to square one then?’ Adele asked.

‘It would seem so. I mean, what are the odds of someone getting raped, then five months later, murdered in her own home by a completely different person?’

‘I call it bloody unlucky.’

Matilda took a large bite of her bland tuna mayo sandwich and chewed it thoughtfully. ‘It wasn’t a premeditated murder because the killer used whatever came to hand – the paperweight. So, it sounds like an argument that escalated.’

‘I thought the neighbours didn’t hear anything.’

‘They didn’t. Maybe a heated discussion then. Oh, I don’t know,’ Matilda said, frustrated. She threw the sandwich down on the paper bag.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m not sure. I was convinced that once we found the rapist, we’d have the murderer too.’

‘Look, why don’t you go home, relax, and have a long night’s sleep? Approach it tomorrow with a clear head.’

‘You do remember where I’m living at the moment, don’t you? My home is made out of papier-mâché. It’s hardly relaxing.’

By the time Matilda turned the car onto her road at five o’clock, it was dusk. The street lights were just turning on. As she approached the driveway, James was already waiting for her. He was filthy, head to toe covered in dust. She smiled. He had obviously been working on their house. About time too.

‘Hello sweetheart,’ Matilda said as she climbed out of the car. ‘It’s not often you meet me at the door,’ she kissed him on the lips then wiped the dust off her face. ‘You need a shower.’

‘There’s been an incident.’

Matilda’s smile dropped. As if her day hadn’t gone badly enough.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know how to tell you,’ he ran his fingers through his hair, disturbing a cloud of dust.

‘Just tell me.’

‘It might be better if I show you.’

He took Matilda’s hand and led her down the side of their house towards the back garden. She was half-hoping the tin can they were living in had been blown away. Unfortunately, when it came into view it was how she had left it that morning.

James stepped down onto the garden and looked up at the house. Matilda joined him. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. The back wall of the whole left-hand side of the house had collapsed, exposing the kitchen and part of the living room to the elements of a cold Sheffield spring night.

‘What the hell?’ Matilda asked.

‘I think there may be a subsidence problem.’

Chapter Sixteen

Tuesday March 15, 2011.

‘So the whole house just collapsed?’ Sian asked.

‘Just one side of it.’

‘Oh my God!’

Matilda had gone into work early. As soon as it was light she gazed out of the window of the caravan and stared at what was left of her beautiful home. It looked like the aftermath of an earthquake. She could see the tiles on the far wall in the kitchen from the bottom of the garden. There were no words she could use to describe how she felt.

James tried to soften the blow. There was a surveyor due out later today to check the rest of the foundations. Worst case scenario was the whole house would have to be demolished and built from scratch. He didn’t think it would come to that, though.

‘So we have to live in here for a few extra months. It could be worse,’ was James’s parting comment. She didn’t reply.

Sitting in her office, she sipped the strongest coffee she could stomach. Sian was opposite, listening to the story, trying not to laugh. She had brought her boss a KitKat from her snack drawer to make her feel better.

‘How long will it take to get the house back into some kind of order?’

‘No idea. I wouldn’t be surprised if we still weren’t living at the bottom of the garden this time next year, like a couple of trolls.’

‘I suppose, looking on the bright side, it’s a good job you found the problem with the foundations now, rather than once you’d made all the renovations.’

Matilda hadn’t thought of that. ‘Possibly. Right now I wish we’d never bloody started. Who wants a walk-in wardrobe anyway?’

‘I’d love one,’ Sian said, sipping her coffee.

‘Me too, actually,’ Matilda smiled.

Kesinka tapped on Matilda’s glass door. She was still wearing her coat and carrying her handbag. She had obviously come straight from the car park.

‘Morning, ma’am. I’ve been to see Julia Adams this morning, to see if she could identify her attacker. She pointed out Wesley from a series of images straight away. There’s no doubt in her mind it’s him.’

‘That’s wonderful,’ Matilda smiled.

‘She’s coming in later to give a more formal statement. I think we should be able to charge him with Julia’s rape at least.’

‘You’ve done brilliantly on this.’

‘Thank you, ma’am.’

‘PC Rani.’ The unmistakable deep voice of Ben Hales boomed out from the entrance to the Murder Investigation Suite.

‘Sir?’

‘I believe you were going to see Julia Adams first thing this morning.’

‘I have done, sir.’

‘Who is leading the investigation into Julia and Caitlyn’s rape?’

‘You are, sir.’

‘Yet you come straight here to DCI Darke’s office.’

‘Ah, yes. Well, you see, the thing is—’

‘You really need to figure out where your loyalties lie, PC Rani,’ he said. ‘Your sergeant will be hearing about this. My office, now.’ He turned on his heels and left the room.

‘Don’t worry, Kes. I’ll square things with your sergeant.’

‘Thank you ma’am. I’d better …’ she left the office, closing the door quietly behind her.

‘She’s a good officer. She’ll go far,’ Sian said.

‘Yes. I wouldn’t mind having her in the MIT in a few years.’

‘Hales will love that,’ Sian smiled.

‘The man’s a nob.’

Just before lunchtime, a round of applause burst out among the detectives in the MIT suite as the door was pushed open and Rita entered. Matilda quickly got up from behind her desk and went to greet her.

‘Rita, what are you doing back so soon?’

‘My mum’s decided to move in while I recover. She’s doing my head in.’

‘How are you feeling?’ Matilda looked at Rita, trying to find any bruise or cut or mark from the attack. She seemed as fresh-faced as ever.

‘I’m fine, honestly.’

‘Come into the office.’

Matilda took her inside and closed the door.

‘I am so sorry with how far things went,’ Matilda said. ‘We lost radio contact.’

‘That’s OK. I understand. I knew Aaron would have my back. He gave me a good talking to before we started the op on Friday night.’

‘Did he?’ She smiled.

‘Yes. He was acting all big brother.’

‘You’re going to need to give a statement.’

‘I know.’

‘You did well. I’m so proud of you.’

‘Thank you,’ Rita beamed.

Matilda watched as she made her way to her desk. Everyone was patting her on the back, shaking her hand, wishing her well. Anna went over to her last. She looked earnest as she whispered something into her ear. Rita hugged her firmly.

Matilda spent the afternoon in her office with a worried look on her face. Her frown weighed heavy and by the time the light outside began to fade she was suffering with a dull headache behind her eyes. Why would Caitlyn Brown, a woman who didn’t make an impact on people’s lives, be a murder victim? It wasn’t a robbery gone wrong as there was nothing taken from her flat. Was it just a random murder? Had someone seen her and decided to give in to homicidal urges?

Matilda sat up straight. Something in her mind fell into place. She grabbed her phone and made a call. ‘Kesinka, it’s DCI Darke. I need to talk to Julia Adams again tonight. Can you ring her, let her know we’ll be coming over?’

An hour later, Matilda, Kesinka, and Sian were sitting in Julia’s living room. Julia went into the kitchen and returned with a tray laden with tea mugs and a steaming tea pot.

Julia’s appearance had changed since the last time Matilda had seen her. During their conversation, Julia had looked tired and drawn, scared of her own shadow. Now, she seemed the embodiment of life. She wore make-up, she was dressed in jeans and a light-weight sweater. Her hair was neatly combed and there was a spring in her step.

‘You seem to be doing much better,’ Kesinka said.

‘Well, you’ve caught him, haven’t you? I’m not scared anymore. I’m going back to work tomorrow.’

‘What do you do?’ Matilda asked.

‘I work at HSBC in town. I’m in the contracts department. It’s all very boring, but the people are great.’

‘Are you sure you’re ready?’ Kesinka asked.

‘Absolutely,’ she smiled. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘Julia, have you ever used a vet?’ Matilda asked, trying to find some link between Julia and Caitlyn.

‘A vet? No,’ she scoffed. ‘As you can see, I don’t have any pets. I’m allergic to cats anyway.’

‘Do you go into Woodseats much?’

‘Not really. I used to, years ago. It’s all charity shops and hairdressers now.’

‘What about Heeley?’

‘I think I bought my TV from Currys at the retail park. Why are you asking?’

‘But you haven’t been there recently?’

‘No.’

‘Tell me what you were doing on Sunday, March the sixth,’ Matilda said.

‘Last Sunday? I was here all day. Kesinka was for most of the day too.’

‘That’s right,’ Kesinka confirmed, looking as confused as Julia.

‘You didn’t go out at all?’

‘No. I’d been raped the day before. I wasn’t in a fit state to go out.’

Matilda looked across at Sian.

‘On Sunday night at half past seven, your car was picked up by a traffic camera on Gleadless Road turning into Carrfield Road. That is your red Seat on the drive, isn’t it?’ Sian asked.

Julia stared at Sian with wide eyes. She quickly turned her gaze to Matilda then back to Sian. ‘Yes. Yes it is.’

‘You didn’t lend it to anyone, did you?’

‘No,’ she said, swallowing hard.

‘And it hadn’t been stolen?’

‘No.’

‘Julia, when we spoke the other day you asked if Caitlyn had suffered when she died. You said that she was killed by a blow to the head, yet I didn’t tell you how Caitlyn had died.’

‘Didn’t you?’

‘No. The only people who knew were the police, and the killer.’

There was a heavy silence.

Julia stared straight ahead into the distance, not looking at anyone, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap. She bit her bottom lip hard and her nostrils flared as she breathed rapidly in and out. She suddenly exploded. ‘If that stupid woman had reported her rape when it first happened, you could have caught him, and it wouldn’t have happened to me.’ Tears began to fall, but she didn’t wipe them away.

‘How did you even know about Caitlyn?’ Sian asked.

‘I spent the majority of Sunday with Kesinka. She told me all about a second victim. When she went to the toilet, I rummaged in her bag and found Caitlyn’s details. I saw her picture. As soon as I saw her, I didn’t feel sadness or pity, I felt anger. She looked pathetic. Because of her fear, I was raped.’ Julia’s entire body was shaking.

‘What happened?’ Matilda asked.

‘I went round to talk to her. I told her I’d been attacked too and wondered if she wanted to talk. She let me in straight away. I could have been anyone. She told me all about her night out, the man who raped her, his description. I knew it was the same guy. I asked her why she hadn’t reported it sooner and she said she was scared. Scared? How did she think I felt when I went to the police? She was a silly little girl trying to be a woman.’

‘Did you have to kill her?’ Kesinka asked.

‘I didn’t intend to. I didn’t go round there to murder her. She said something,’ Julia frowned. ‘She said I didn’t know what it was like for her, that I’d get over it quicker. What does that even mean?’ She stared at Matilda. ‘I was so angry with her. She was allowing this man to turn her into a victim. I could see what would happen if he was ever caught and it went to trial. His lawyer would destroy her in the witness box, and he’d get off. I couldn’t allow that to happen.’

‘So you killed her,’ Matilda said.

‘I’d hit her before I even realized I had the paperweight in my hand. I put it back on the shelf and just left the flat. I didn’t think it would have killed her. I hardly touched her with it.’

‘You fractured her skull.’

‘But I didn’t hit her that hard.’

‘It was a solid glass paperweight. You didn’t have to hit her hard with it.’

Julia sniffed back her tears. ‘What’s going to happen to me? I’m a victim here.’

‘I’m going to charge you with Caitlyn Brown’s murder,’ Matilda said.

‘But I’m a victim.’

‘So is Caitlyn.’

Chapter Seventeen

‘What will happen to her?’

‘If she gets herself a good solicitor I’m sure the charge will be lowered to manslaughter. Also, she’d just been attacked herself. She could argue the balance of her mind was disturbed.’

‘Will she go to prison?’

‘I don’t know. It depends on the judge.’

Matilda and James Darke were standing in the back garden with a mug of tea, looking up at the shell of their house.

‘What will happen to the rapist?’

‘Wesley Bennett? He’s been charged and placed on remand until trial. Since then another four women have come forward, saying he has sexually assaulted them in some way.’

‘Bastard. I suppose Caitlyn was unlucky to come first.’

‘It seems like it. Poor girl. All she wanted out of life was to look after animals. She wasn’t interested in getting married or having children. Her mum said she was a simple girl. She just loved animals.’

James Darke turned away and made to scratch his eye. Matilda knew beneath his hard, masculine exterior he was respectful of other people and their plights. He was genuinely saddened by Caitlyn’s death, a woman he had never even seen.

‘So, what’s happening with the house, then?’ Matilda prompted, changing the subject.

‘Ah.’

‘It’s all going to have to come down, isn’t it?’

‘I’m afraid so. The technical term for the state of the foundations is royally fucked.’

‘There is no way I am living in a glorified cardboard box until the house is built from scratch.’

‘I have an actual static home being delivered on Friday. I’m going to lay a concrete base for it tomorrow. It’s a proper home. It even has a balcony.’

Matilda smiled. ‘Lovely. I can sit out and eat my breakfast and look up at this shell of a house.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I’m only joking,’ she giggled and put her arm around him.

They turned around and headed back to the caravan without wheels. Once inside, they relaxed on the sofa. Matilda laid in James’s arms, her head on his chest. As she closed her eyes and sank into the warmth of her husband, all she could think of was Caitlyn Brown’s sad life, the wasted opportunities, and the cruel way it was tragically stolen from her.

Keep Reading …

If you enjoyed Victim of Innocence, pre-order the new book in the series …

They were the perfect family. It was the perfect crime.

The morning after a wedding reception at a beautiful suburban home in Sheffield, the bride’s entire family are stabbed to death – in a frenzied attack more violent than anything DCI Matilda Darke could have imagined.

Forensics point to a burglar on the run across the country. But cracks are starting to appear in Matilda’s team, someone is playing games with the evidence – and the killer might be closer to home than they thought …

Order your copy here

Start the series at the beginning …

DCI Matilda Darke has returned to work after a nine month absence. A shadow of her former self, she is tasked with re-opening a cold case: an unresolved homicide. Then a dead body is discovered, and the investigation leads back to Matilda’s case. Suddenly the past and present converge, and it seems a killer may have come back for more …

Click here to order a copy of For Reasons Unknown

Also by Michael Wood

The Fallen

Outside Looking In

For Reasons Unknown

A Room Full of Killers

The Hangman’s Hold

About the Author

Michael Wood is a freelance journalist and proofreader living in Sheffield. As a journalist he has covered many crime stories throughout Sheffield, gaining first-hand knowledge of police procedure. He also reviews books for CrimeSquad, a website dedicated to crime fiction.

@MichaelHWood

/MichaelWoodBooks

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