The Killer Inside: A gripping serial killer thriller (Detective Jessica Daniel thriller series Book 1) (10 page)

J
essica’s
first thought was that Hunt was supposed to be busy dealing with Harry’s stabbing case – and then she remembered it was Saturday. A second thought then occurred to her: how on earth had a career criminal like Wayne Lapham managed to get one of the best-known defence lawyers in the city, possibly the country, to represent him?

Then the penny dropped.

Lapham had been all over the previous night’s news and he would be in most of the current day’s papers. The chance to represent someone as high-profile as that must have been too much for Hunt to resist. Maybe Lapham had even read about Tom Carpenter handing himself in via Hunt? Or perhaps he had seen something of the Worrall case? Hunt certainly got enough coverage for most of Manchester’s underworld to be aware of him.

Jessica had a peek around Caroline’s bedroom door and saw two bodies entwined with each other, sleeping under a sheet. She left them to it, getting in a quick change of clothes before heading out.

At the station, even with a reduced staff for the weekend, Jessica could feel a buzz as she walked in. A couple of officers were hanging around the entrance and stopped to look at her as she headed towards reception. The desk sergeant who had phoned called her over and handed over an envelope with her name on it. ‘This was dropped in for you,’ he said.

Jessica ripped across the top to find a court summons inside. After the trial’s start had been delayed, her day at Crown Court was going to be Tuesday. She was not only going to be facing Peter Hunt today – but in three days’ time as well. She wanted to call Harry but figured it could wait, doubting he would answer anyway.

‘The inspector is already in his office,’ said the sergeant. ‘He said to go and see him when you got in. His royal highness is upstairs too.’

Aylesbury.

‘A full house, then?’

The desk sergeant gave her a wink. ‘Like any other day.’

Jessica visited Cole first. His office was only two doors down from hers, next to the canteen. It was smaller than the office she and Reynolds shared, but the inspector did have the space to himself. Jessica knocked once and went in. He was sitting behind the desk, typing on the computer, but stopped and looked up as she entered.

‘Hey,’ Jessica said.

‘You’ve heard, then?’

‘Hunt? Yeah, I got the call. Are we going in together?’

‘Yes. I’ve spoken to the guv already. He was fuming that Hunt was involved, but said to play it cool.’

Jessica gave him a small smile. ‘That’s a given for you, anyway.’

‘I think he was talking about you.’

Jessica went to the interview room to set up the tape as Cole went to fetch Wayne Lapham and his solicitor from the holding cells below the station. Although he had come voluntarily, Lapham was still their only suspect in a double murder and had been arrested accordingly. He had been locked in a cell all morning.

A few minutes later, he was brought handcuffed into the interview room by Cole and a uniformed officer, with Peter Hunt at his side.

Wayne Lapham was short but had broad shoulders and a fiery look about him. He was forty but looked older. He was unshaven, and had greying dark hair cropped close to his head, with a visible scar across his forehead that ended above his left eye. He was wearing a sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing two arms completely covered with tattoos of varying designs.

In contrast, Peter Hunt looked immaculate. He stood tall next to his client, towering over him in a brown pinstripe suit that appeared to be custom-fitted. He was wearing a white shirt with a wide collar and a matching thick brown tie knotted tight to his neck. His blonde hair had no traces of white or grey and was styled impressively upwards. He was carrying a leather briefcase that looked very expensive.

The two men couldn’t have been more different.

Lapham was the first to sit, Hunt taking the chair next to him. He put his case down by his side and placed a notepad on the table. Cole sat next to the tape recorder, pressed the buttons to start the recording and, as usual, introduced everyone present and formally cautioned the suspect. Jessica stayed standing while that happened, before finally taking her seat directly opposite her only suspect.

Nobody had said a word before Wayne Lapham commented: ‘Ye are pretty cute, y’know?’ He was looking directly at Jessica and gave her a wink. He had an earring in his right ear and another tattoo below his earlobe. He had a Scottish accent that had clearly mellowed with time but was still noticeable.

Peter Hunt said nothing, so Jessica let the silence hang before asking Lapham where he had been during the hours Yvonne Christensen had been killed.

Lapham’s reply was forceful, a direct challenge. ‘Pub? Home? Sleeping? I dunno. Where were you?’

Cole stepped in. ‘Mr Hunt, would you like to
advise
your client?’

Hunt had a neutral expression on his face, looking down at a notepad in front of him. He glanced at his client. ‘Please answer as best you can, Wayne.’

‘I’ll try again,’ Jessica said, before repeating the question.

Lapham said nothing but allowed himself a smirk. ‘Tuesday at twelve I was at the pub until I went home for tea. I stayed there until midday the next day when I went back to the pub. If I’m not at home, I’m at the pub.’

His attitude was already pushing Jessica’s buttons. ‘Not breaking into people’s homes, then?’

Hunt immediately cut in, looking up from his notes at Jessica. ‘Are you accusing my client of breaking into homes on that day?’

Jessica ignored him, asking Lapham where he had been between the times they thought the murder had happened.

Lapham didn’t sound angry, but he was antagonistic. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Jessica once during the interview. ‘Are you deaf?’

‘Just answer,’ Hunt said quietly.

‘Home and pub. It’s not hard.’

Jessica met his glare. ‘The problem is, Wayne, that you’re the only link we have to a pair of murders. You burgle both the victims’ houses, then a year later, they end up dead.’

Lapham slid his chair back slightly, making it screech along the floor. Finally taking his eyes from Jessica, he laughed quietly as Hunt spoke again. ‘My client has never been found guilty of a burglary. I think you should be careful when you make accusations.’

Jessica again let this hang in the air, refusing to rise to the retort. ‘Okay then,
Wayne
, let’s go back to last year. Let’s talk about this man in the pub you “bought” all those stolen items from, shall we?’

Hunt moved as if he was about to speak but simply let out a little cough. Jessica met Lapham’s gaze again. He had eyes that were a very pale blue, almost grey. His stare was unwavering. ‘I don’t remember,’ he said.

‘Come on: this mysterious man is the number one suspect in a double murder. You’re our star witness. Do you want to try again?’

‘He was a man.’

‘That’s a start…’

‘Wearing a baseball cap.’

Jessica said nothing.

‘I don’t remember any more than that.’

Jessica sighed, glanced at Cole, then Hunt, then back at Lapham. ‘I don’t believe you. I don’t believe there was a man in the pub. I think
you
stole those items and I think
you
went back to those houses and murdered two innocent people for whatever reason you could come up with.’ She wasn’t sure if she did believe that, but she had nothing else.

Hunt spoke louder this time. ‘My client has been cleared of those burglaries.
Cleared
. If you have any evidence, any single scrap at all that he was at any of those scenes back then – or at any of them last week – please produce it. If not, let him go and we can all get back to enjoying the weekend.’

Jessica ignored him. ‘How did you get back into those houses a second time?’

No answer.

‘How did it feel strangling those victims, Wayne?’

The two of them continued to stare at each other, as if Cole and Lapham’s lawyer were both invisible. ‘Did you enjoy it?’ Jessica added.

Hunt started to stand up, pulling his pad from the table as if to indicate the interview was over, but his client didn’t move.

‘Fuck ye,’ Lapham said aggressively.

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Violent man like you. Is that what you got up to in prison? Is that how you got that scar?’

‘Sergeant!’ Hunt was shouting now, standing to his full height and indicating for his client to do the same. Cole shuffled nervously in the seat next to Jessica, but neither she nor Wayne moved. Wayne didn’t say a word, continuing to stare at Jessica, neither of them wanting to be the first to look away.

Then he growled his response. ‘Yous have got nowt on me and yous know it.’

Jessica did know it and trying to wind him up was having the opposite effect. She was allowing herself to be frustrated by his lack of cooperation. ‘Who’s the girl?’ Jessica asked, changing tack.

Hunt was still standing but, with the obvious lack of movement from his client, had little option other than to sit again.

‘What girl?’

‘The one at your flat. Wife? Girlfriend? Mistress? Sister?’

‘What’s it to ye?’

‘Nothing… But when she phoned to tip you off about us looking for you yesterday, that was what we call “obstructing a police constable in execution of their duty”. It’s a criminal offence, something I know you are very familiar with.’

Cole shuffled nervously and Jessica knew she was on thin ice. ‘We’ve already checked the phone records,’ she lied. ‘I could send an officer around to pick her up like that.’ She snapped her fingers.

Lapham finally looked away, peering towards his Hunt. ‘That true?’

Hunt stumbled over his words. ‘I, er, well, I don’t know. It
could
be an offence…’

His client was suddenly angry, his cool expression and steely stare gone. Jessica had the feeling she was finally seeing the real Wayne Lapham. ‘Why won’t ye lot leave us alone? I’ve not done nothing wrong. Every time I get out and try to get clean I have ye lot banging on my door, stopping me in the street. It’s not right.’ He was finally animated, banging on the desk with his cuffed hands, any pretension of coolness gone.

‘“Not done nothing” is a double negative, Wayne. Can I take that as a confession?’ Jessica smiled.

Hunt cut back in. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He turned to Cole. ‘Are these questions going anywhere? If you’ve got anything at all on my client, then charge him. If not, let’s end this.’

Even Hunt’s demeanour had slipped. Jessica knew she was pushing it. She didn’t even know where she was going but hoped her superior wouldn’t shut her down. ‘The problem is, Wayne, that you
don’t
go out and get clean, do you? At the very least you go out and buy a load of stolen gear from some bloke down the pub.’

Lapham was back to staring at her; the calm had returned. ‘Ye are even cuter when ye are angry.’ He winked at her again.

Cole cut in even before Hunt could. ‘Right, this is going nowhere.’ He gave the time and said he was terminating the interview before stopping the tape and getting to his feet. ‘Mr Lapham, you are free to leave. I will find the keys to those cuffs and you can go out with your legal representative. Check with the sergeant on the front desk on the way out. He will give your lawyer further instructions regarding police bail. You may have to return.’

Cole left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Hunt was also standing and packing his notepad into his briefcase, shaking his head while making tutting noises. Jessica and Wayne remained sitting, weighing each other up. Jessica finally relented, scraping her chair back, turning around and walking towards the door. Before she could get there, Wayne spoke. ‘Sergeant…’

Jessica turned around.

‘That is one mighty fine arse ye’ve got there. I would
love
to have a go on that.’ He used both hands, still handcuffed, to grab his crotch. ‘I’ll bet ye are a real goer, yeah?’

Hunt went to say something but Jessica acted on instinct. She took two strides across the room and leant over the table so she was at eye level around a foot away from him, calm and steady now: ‘You think you’re a real hard man, don’t you, Wayne?’

He eyeballed her as Hunt said something about the interview being over. Jessica ignored him and stared directly into Wayne’s eyes. ‘It must take a
really
hard man to break into people’s houses and take their possessions before getting some slimy shitbag like this to get you off.’

She heard Hunt splutter as Wayne’s gaze flickered away for a fraction of a second, perhaps unnerved by how close they were.

‘I don’t think you’re hard, Wayne. I don’t think you’re hard at all. I think you’re a pathetic little man who’s pissed his life away. And do you know what else? I think you’re all talk.’

Jessica finally moved backwards, albeit only half a step. There was silence. Hunt hadn’t moved and Wayne was staring back at Jessica, not knowing what to say. ‘So there you go, Wayne. You think I’m a goer, how about you try me?’

Jessica saw a visible bead of sweat appear on his forehead. She held out her hand towards him. ‘Touch me and let’s see what happens, shall we?’

J
essica was
in the ladies’ toilets at the station. She locked herself in a cubicle after checking the rest of the facility was empty and sat on the closed seat. Her heart rate had only now started to drop and she felt a mess. Something had come over her in the interview room that had never happened before.

She sat with her head in her hands and sobbed silently to herself. She didn’t remember everything she had said to Wayne Lapham. It was less than five minutes ago, but already she could see only flashes of the incident. It was as if she had watched herself from the corner of the room: an out-of-body experience of sorts. She remembered Peter Hunt shouting for an officer and calling her ‘out of control’. She remembered Cole returning and looking bemused as she stomped out of the room, past the uniformed officer and down the hallway into the toilets where she sat now. The stretch of time between Cole leaving the interview room and him returning was patchy.

What on earth had happened?

Jessica heard the main bathroom door open as someone entered. She held her breath and lifted her feet off the ground, though she didn’t really know why she was doing it. She listened to the person enter one of the cubicles and waited for the flush and the sound of water gushing from the sinks. Eventually, the door went and she was alone again.

She had never really been an emotional person. The last time Jessica remembered crying was when Caroline’s parents had died, almost a decade ago. She was struggling to figure out why she was crying now. Was she upset, embarrassed or even fearful for her future after what had happened? And why had she let Wayne Lapham wind her up so much?

She took a deep breath. Jessica didn’t believe Wayne was the man they were looking for. His list of crimes was long but didn’t have anything on it that indicated he was capable of two brutal murders. She also did believe that his life was as pathetic as visiting the pub and going home, probably with a little bit of criminality on the side. He didn’t seem intelligent enough to set up the scenes, either. Someone had very cleverly and deliberately covered their tracks by not only making sure they left no trace of themselves with the bodies, but also by hiding the very way the murders had even been conceived.

Could Wayne Lapham really have figured out a way to get into a house and out again undetected? He was a thug and a bully and Jessica had no doubt he’d broken into those houses a year ago. Sneaking in through partially open windows was his style. Subtlety, however, was something she doubted he could spell, let alone pull off.

That left her wondering about her own behaviour. Why had she threatened him? Whatever her reasons, and whether she had indeed simply lost it, she had at least achieved one thing. She had seen it in Wayne’s eyes as he’d panicked and looked to Peter Hunt for assistance. He hadn’t touched her; he wouldn’t have dared. He was the most scared person in that interview room and, despite his bravado, he was no murderer.

Jessica dried her eyes and unlocked the cubicle door. She checked herself over in the mirror, smoothed her hair down and retied it into a ponytail. Then she straightened her suit and left the room.

The hallway was unnervingly quiet. It was a weekend, but even so, the silence boomed in Jessica’s ears. She wasn’t due to be in that day, but given the nature of her job and the case itself, was pretty much always ready to come in at short notice. She walked along the hallway towards her office, wondering if she should go home or if there was anything else she could do. Lapham had been released and there would be paperwork to go with that.

As she rounded the corner that would take her to her office, she almost walked straight into Cole. They both stepped back. ‘You okay?’ he said.

‘Fine.’

‘What happened in there? Hunt was fuming. He practically ran up to see the chief inspector and then stormed out with Lapham a few minutes later.’

Jessica had pretty much expected that would be the lawyer’s reaction. ‘Not much. We exchanged words.’

Cole gave her a sideways look as if to imply he knew it must have been much more than that, but he said nothing. ‘I think the DCI wants a word.’

‘Right.’

Jessica went to head towards the stairs but, as she half-turned, Cole added: ‘Do you reckon he’s our man?’

She looked back towards him. ‘Do you?’

Neither of them said anything but Jessica could tell from her superior’s look that he was thinking exactly what she was.
No.

She made her way up the stairs and could see Aylesbury in his office through the window. She knocked and he waved her in.

‘Sergeant Daniel,’ he said, indicating for her to sit. She did so, but said nothing. They looked at each other as if waiting for the other to talk first. Aylesbury eventually broke the silence. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’

Jessica paused for a moment. ‘No, sir.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Aylesbury nodded slowly, his eyes darting across her as if trying to read her thoughts. ‘Jack says Wayne Lapham has been bailed. I think we all know we don’t have enough to keep him in.’

Jessica nodded but said nothing.

‘I think you should go home for the weekend and then we might need to talk again on Monday, yes?’

‘Yes, sir.’

J
essica was back
in the exact position she had been in what seemed like barely hours ago – on the sofa in her flat. It was early afternoon and the flat was once again empty. Caroline had left a note on the coffee table in the living room.

Jessica didn’t fancy either lunch or shopping. She wondered how many more times she could mess something up before someone stepped in to remove her from the case. There were already rumours the Serious Crime Division were looking to swoop in to hunt the ‘Houdini Strangler’. The SCD had been set up a few years previously and dealt with a wide range of crimes. No one in CID was ever really sure whether what they were working on would fall under the remit of the SCD. Any larger gang crime would usually be referred to them, but a lot seemed to come down to how busy the SCD were at any given time.

It was often felt that, if the SCD were having a particularly quiet month, they would look for anything decent CID were handling and then take the case on themselves in order to not have their budget cut. They were one of many confusing layers of law enforcement. Everyone fought hard to make sure their own departments looked busy and successful when the time came for budgets to be allocated.

Jessica only knew two things about the upcoming week. First, she would be in Aylesbury’s office first thing on Monday, probably for a dressing-down, possibly to be taken off the case and maybe to be suspended outright. Second, she was due in court on Tuesday to face Peter Hunt again. She hoped she would make a better go of it second time around.

Thinking ahead to her court date, she figured now was as good a time as any to try phoning Harry again. It was pushing six months since they had last talked. She flicked through her phone’s list of contacts and pressed the call button when it got to ‘Harry Thomas’.

It rang once. Twice. Jessica was about to leave a message, as she had done many times, when the line clicked and went silent for a moment.

‘Hello,’ came a mumbled voice from the other end.

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s Jessica… I… I didn’t think you’d answer.’

Silence.

‘Are you okay?’

‘How’s the case going?’ he asked.

She figured he’d seen coverage of the ‘Houdini’ case in the papers or on the news.

‘Not great,’ Jessica replied.

‘Aye, it’s a weird one…’

Jessica had no idea what came over her but, for the second time that day, she broke out in tears. ‘Oh, Harry…’ He didn’t say anything, but she tearfully continued. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. Things are a mess. We’ve had no leads, no idea how these killings link together and then, when we finally make a connection, I blow it. I let Lapham get away and, even when we got him back, I screwed it up and he’s back out again.’

‘You got him back?’

‘He walked into the station with Peter Hunt this morning.’

‘Hunt?’

‘Yes.’

‘What a shitbag.’

Jessica laughed slightly through the tears. ‘That’s what I said.’

‘You said that?’

‘Yes.’

‘To him?’

‘Yeah.’

Jessica could hear Harry laughing. Huge belly laughs and snorts. And then she was giggling, too. She had barely heard Harry that happy, even when they’d worked together.

‘What did he say?’ Harry managed to ask in between the guffaws.

‘Nothing, really. He didn’t get a chance to say anything.’

Harry continued to laugh. ‘That is bloody fantastic.’

Jessica grabbed a box of tissues from the table and blew her nose, the tears now gone. She smiled and tried to stop herself joining in, but Harry’s laugh was infectious. It was a while until both of them had finally stopped.

‘Are you okay, Harry?’

‘Me? Yeah, I’m a stubborn, silly old man. Don’t you worry about me, Detective Sergeant.’

He had never had the chance to call her that before, Jessica thought. It sounded good. He was proud.

‘We all worry…’ Jessica began. Harry said nothing, so Jessica swallowed before continuing. ‘What happened in court?’

Harry didn’t reply for a few moments and Jessica wondered whether he would, but then the answer came. ‘Nothing. He wound me up.’

‘He winds everyone up.’

‘Kid’s gonna get off.’

Jessica didn’t want to acknowledge that, not knowing if it was true. ‘What would you do with my case, Harry?’

‘Link the bodies. People don’t kill at random, not really.’

‘We thought Lapham was the link.’

‘Do you still think that?’

‘No.’

Harry paused again. Jessica didn’t know if it was deliberate, or if he didn’t have anything to say. ‘Some people will do anything to get themselves ahead, Detective Sergeant. Or to get revenge. Everyone has a dark side. You’d be surprised what can bring it out.’

His statement sounded ominous and Jessica didn’t know how to respond directly, so she changed the subject. ‘Do you know I’m in court on Tuesday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you fancy a drink afterwards?’

‘You buying?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll see you there, then.’