Authors: Leigh Russell
Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Women Sleuths
Geraldine should have been typing up her final report. Instead she sat, stupefied with relief. She thought about all the things she could do that evening: have an early night, make a start on unpacking the boxes still stacked on the floor of her living room, watch TV, or read. Or she might just sit in a chair and do nothing. She could rest. She wondered whether to call Craig, but decided against it. He wouldn't understand her uneasy triumph. Geraldine closed her eyes. Her shoulder ached and her neck hurt when she leaned forwards. They'd nailed him, and she didn't have enough energy to feel pleased. Her fingers sat motionless on the keyboard. She'd never been so tired.
'Gov.' Geraldine opened her eyes. 'DCI wants you in the interview room.' Geraldine saved what little she had typed of her report. 'Coming for a drink after work, gov?' Sarah Mellor asked as she passed her in the corridor. Forgetting her neck collar, Geraldine nodded and swore as the collar dug into her. Then she set off to meet the Woolsmarsh Strangler face to face in the harsh light of an interview room. Outside the door she paused. She was about to confront the man who had killed Angela Waters, Tiffany May and Jacqueline Ross. The terror she'd felt in the darkness of the park flooded through her and she clenched her fists until her short nails pressed into her flesh.
'It's just another interview,' she told herself, knowing her effort to appear blasé wouldn't fool anyone, least of all Kathryn Gordon.
A stale odour hit her as she opened the door.
'He won't tell us who he is,' the DCI said. 'Tells me he doesn't give his name to strangers.'
'Just strangles them,' Geraldine replied as she faced Jim Curtis across the table. Eyes glared wetly at her through a straggly fringe. She couldn't see a scar but knew they'd find it under his moustache. Staring him straight in the eyes, she sat beside Kathryn Gordon.
'DCI Kathryn Gordon. Also present DI Geraldine Steel. And – state your full name clearly for the tape, please.' Kathryn Gordon paused. 'The suspect is shaking his head.' The DCI pointed out that it was futile to try and obstruct the police at this stage. Jim Curtis didn't answer. Kathryn Gordon's face contorted with mock anger as she leaned forward. Geraldine wondered if the DCI's anger with her had also been assumed.
'All right, Mr Curtis. Let's stop playing games. We know who you are, so there's nothing to be gained by these delaying tactics. It won't help your case.' She paused. Jim Curtis stared at her, silent. She gave an exaggerated sigh. 'We've got you and you know it. So let's get a move on, shall we?' The man's lips moved under his scruffy moustache. Kathryn Gordon sighed and raised her eyebrows at Geraldine. Here we go: 'You can't talk to me like that. I know my rights.' Geraldine wanted to tell him he'd forfeited his rights the moment he laid his hands on Angela Waters, but the tape was running and the solicitor sat, mutely observing.
The Woolsmarsh Strangler didn't insist on his rights, nor did he try to protest his innocence. Stinking like a drain and crawling with lice, in a dry crackly voice he asked for a hot shower.
'But first I want my hair and nails cut short. It helps to keep them clean.' He nodded his head and the solicitor shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
'This isn't a hotel,' Kathryn Gordon burst out. 'And where you're heading, you're not going to be relaxing in the showers. You won't want to set foot outside your cell. No one likes people like you.'
The man's voice was hoarse and indistinct. 'Miss Elsie likes me,' he said. With a gurgle that might have been laughter he added, 'I think she loves me.'
Geraldine's tone was very gentle. 'Why did you stop taking your tablets, Jim? Don't you know three women have died because of it? Why did you do it?' Curtis appeared to be thinking. A smile stirred the hair on his face like a breeze rippling through grass.
'It's all right,' he said, suddenly eager to talk. 'I seen Miss Elsie. I didn't know it was her. Not at first. But it was her all right. I seen her. I seen Miss Elsie and she says I'm more clever than anyone. You don't know how clever I am. Miss Elsie knows it's not my fault. It's not my fault, Miss Elsie says. Miss Elsie's pleased with me.' His voice rose in a guttural shout of triumph. 'She's going to give me a merit star.' His eyes blazed, daring them to disagree.
Geraldine started to repeat her question but changed her mind and fell silent. Even if she could persuade Jim Curtis to explain himself, she didn't want to understand him. She only wanted to know he was securely behind bars so he couldn't destroy more lives. She didn't have the strength to think beyond that.
The DCI nodded at the officer standing by the door ready to escort the suspect back to the holding cell. As Jim Curtis clambered to his feet, Geraldine saw the hands that had crushed the life out of three women and almost ended her own life. They were unusually large, with long fingers that twitched as though playing an imaginary piano. Geraldine swallowed hard, resisting the urge to reach protectively for her throat.
In the doorway, the Woolsmarsh Strangler twisted round and stared straight at Geraldine. 'I seen her,' he repeated rapturously, 'I seen Miss Elsie—' the door closed on his hoarse babbling.
The DCI looked at Geraldine. 'You look worn out. You could do with a good sleep. But I need you to finish all your reports tonight before you leave.'
'Yes, ma'am. And … thank you, ma'am.'
'Better to confront him face to face,' Kathryn Gordon replied as she rose to her feet. She spoke brusquely, but there was understanding in her eyes. 'You'll sleep better for it,' she added, and left the room without a backward glance.
65
Celebration
As she walked into the pub Geraldine regretted joining the team for a drink at the end of the case. Her neck was aching and she was too tired to think straight, but they'd all seen her and she couldn't back out without looking churlish. Forcing a grin, she joined her colleagues. Several officers who'd been drafted in from other stations had already gone home, but Peterson was there, and Sarah Mellor, and the other DIs. For once, Merton was smiling. It was the first time Geraldine had seen his uneven yellow teeth. Kathryn Gordon was laughing.
Geraldine didn't feel like celebrating. She hadn't paid attention to a telephone message and, as a result, Tiffany May and Jacqueline Ross had died. If only Geraldine had listened more closely, those two teenagers might still be alive. However hard she tried to block the image of Mr and Mrs Ross from her mind, she couldn't forget their reaction on hearing of Jim Curtis's arrest. She'd found them sitting side by side on a sofa, locked together in solitary misery.
'We've made an arrest,' Geraldine had spoken as brightly as she could but had faltered almost at once, her words an intrusion in the silent house. 'His name's Jim Curtis. He's mentally ill. He didn't want his victims to suffer … it was over very quickly … she wouldn't have known …' She'd stopped. There were no words. If she closed her eyes she was powerless in the dark, hands trapped behind her back, one leather glove pressed, unyielding, over her mouth, while another closed around her throat. She could try to put it out of her mind but it would be there, waiting to catch her in restless dreams. There was no comfort she could offer them. She knew their daughter's death had not been easy. Mr and Mrs Ross had stared at her with empty eyes. 'I'll let myself out,' she'd muttered and left them disconnected, side by side.
'What's yours, gov?' someone asked; a brief reprieve from memory.
'This one's on me,' the DCI butted in. 'Name your poison, Geraldine?'
'A half, thank you, ma'am.'
'Get her a pint,' a voice called out.
Carter manoeuvred his way to her side. 'Don't beat yourself up over the victims, Geraldine,' he muttered. She could barely hear him above the hubbub. 'We'll never know how many lives we saved. Look over there.' He nodded at a boisterous group of young women occupying a corner of the bar. One of them was wearing a flashing headband with a small veil attached to it, announcing: 'BRIDE' in bright pink letters. Several of her companions had long blonde hair. All of them were laughing. Geraldine turned to Carter but he was already moving away from her. Over the top of his glass his eyes met hers for an instant. Then the DCI was back, thrusting a pint at her.
'Cheers, Geraldine,' she bellowed, 'and well done. You have the makings of a good officer.' Rare praise from the DCI. 'I'll be keeping an eye on you,' she added. Geraldine smiled, hoping she wouldn't be assigned to Kathryn Gordon's team again straight away. 'Just watch your step,' Kathryn Gordon added, 'and you'll be all right.'
Angela Waters, Tiffany May and Jacqueline Ross hadn't watched their step. But perhaps Carter was right. The noisy group out celebrating their friend's wedding were safe because of the team who'd worked tirelessly to find the Woolsmarsh Strangler. None of the girls at the hen party looked in her direction as Geraldine raised her glass. She drank to them.
First published in 2009
by No Exit Press
an imprint of Oldcastle Books
P O Box 394,
Harpenden, AL5 1XJ
This ebook edition first published in 2011
All rights reserved
© Leigh Russell 2009
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You can read the opening of Leigh Russell's other books at:
http://www.noexit.co.uk/features/road_closed_first_chapter.php
- Road Closed first chapter
http://www.noexit.co.uk/features/dead_end_first_chapter.php
- Dead End first chapter
http://www.noexit.co.uk/features/death_bed_first_chapter.php
- Death Bed first chapter
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