The Killer Inside: A gripping serial killer thriller (Detective Jessica Daniel thriller series Book 1) (21 page)

Chapter Thirty-Seven


A
re you all right
?’ Randall asked. ‘You’ve been a while.’

Jessica heard the call connect and the desk sergeant’s voice say, ‘Hello.’ In that fraction of a second she weighed up blurting out as much as she could: It’s Jessica Daniel, I’ve got Nigel Collins in my flat, send help.

Could she hold Randall off for long enough until help arrived? Would the sergeant understand everything in time? Was it worth the risk?

She hung up and put the phone in her pocket. ‘I was trying Caroline to see if she knew when she was going to be finished. There was no answer, though.’

Randall gave her a sideways stare, as if weighing her up, though she might have been imagining it. Could he know? She hadn’t said anything that could give her away.

He motioned with the scissors in his hand. They had long blades and were sharp. ‘Do you have any tape? One of the boxes broke.’

‘Hang on. Here’s your water.’ Jessica offered him one of the glasses and turned the tap off. She focused hard on not letting her hand tremble as she gave it to him, on not showing she was nervous. He took it, not saying anything, and drank. She took a few sips from her own glass and then tipped the rest away. She felt sick.

Randall emptied the glass and offered it back. ‘Thanks.’

‘No worries. The tape is in that drawer behind you.’

Jessica pointed to a cabinet next to the door. Randall turned and opened it, reaching in and rummaging. There was a knife rack above the drawer he was looking in. If he had figured things out, she was in big trouble.

She watched him, but he didn’t make any sudden movements. He pulled a roll of tape out of the drawer. ‘Got it,’ he said. ‘You coming?’

‘Yes.’ Jessica wanted him to turn around and walk out of the door first – that way, she could at the very least pocket one of the knives.

He didn’t move, but stood holding the door open for her. ‘After you.’

She moved slowly, glancing at the knives. She didn’t necessarily want to stab him but she wanted something that would give her an advantage if need be. She considered the distances. There was no way she could pick something up without him noticing, but could she grab a weapon and back him into a corner? Even if she did, what then?

Jessica walked past the knives, in front of Randall and through the open door towards Caroline’s bedroom. She could feel him moving behind her but kept her cool and returned to Caroline’s room, waiting by the side of the bed for him to move past her towards the wardrobes. He did what she expected and pulled one of the boxes onto the bed before taping it underneath where it had broken.

Jessica watched him carefully. The scissors were on the bed but he picked them up to cut the tape and pocketed them.

Pocketed them.

Why would he do that?

Randall twisted back towards the wardrobe. ‘Where do we begin?’ he said.

Jessica couldn’t believe she was going to have to make small talk. This was a man who had killed four people.

‘I reckon put all the trousers and skirts and stuff in one box, then the tops and dresses separately in another.’

‘I was going to group everything by colour. Good job you’re here,’ Randall laughed. Jessica tried to join in, but there was no substance to it. ‘Can you fold?’ he asked.

‘Okay,’ Jessica replied. ‘If you take them out of the wardrobe, I’ll fold and you pack.’

The situation was almost laughable. Jessica was looking for a way out. Could she somehow lock him in this room then make a call? She should have phoned the police in the first place.

They started working in tandem. It was like an out-of-body experience. Jessica’s body was folding the clothes but her mind was somewhere else, desperately trying to think of a way to handle things.

‘How’s the job going?’ Randall asked, out of the blue. Jessica stopped halfway through folding a pair of jeans and looked up at the man in front of her. He had put another pile of clothes on the bed and his hands were free.

‘I know you were taken off that Houdini case,’ he added. ‘It was all over the news but I wondered how things were now.’

Jessica said nothing at first, folding the trousers quickly and placing them on the bed. ‘I’ve been working on other things,’ she said.

‘Not one of those TV cops who keeps working a case, then?’

She thought she detected something in his voice and tried to laugh, but her voice cracked. ‘Not me.’

‘What’s the flyer about in your bag, then?’

Jessica raced towards the door but Randall was faster. He pinned her against the wall, forearm across her chest, shouting in her face, ‘Why couldn’t you leave it?’

She could smell his breath, his aftershave.

Jessica didn’t have time to think, and acted instinctively. She couldn’t raise her arms but had enough leverage to smash the side of her hand hard into his windpipe. He reeled back with a vicious cough and released her. She wriggled away from his arms and escaped out of the bedroom, dashing for the front door, having no idea what to do next. He was quickly on her, bringing her down in their hallway. She tried to turn over but he punched her hard across the face. She saw stars, blinking to try to clear her head while hearing him continue to gasp for breath. There was a trickle of what was almost certainly blood on her top lip.

Randall was now sitting astride her, knees digging into her elbows so she could barely move. Her legs were relatively free but she knew she wasn’t strong enough to flip him over.

His breathing was tight but his blue eyes were staring right at her. ‘It was over!’ he said. His tone was lighter and he didn’t scream as he had in the bedroom. ‘It was over. I wanted to get on with things, settle down with Caroline.’

Jessica could feel the pain in her head from the blow but could just about focus. ‘Why did you do it?’

There were tears in his eyes, but he still had a fierce look on his face. ‘It was Nigel. I was getting on with things, but then two of them came to me on the stall. It was like a sign. A way to finally say goodbye to Nigel and get on with my life.’

Jessica realised he must mean the two burglary victims. They had gone to the closest place to get new keys cut after Wayne Lapham had broken into their homes, but their appearance must have reminded Randall of a part of him he had buried. The part that still remembered being Nigel and feeling helpless.

‘How did you recognise them?’ she asked. She hoped to keep him talking while she tried to think of a way out.

‘I don’t forget faces.’

‘Really?’

‘I guess that’s part of being “weird”.’

‘Why didn’t you kill the boys who hurt you?’

Jessica felt the body astride her tense. It was almost as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. He rubbed one ear, then the other, the vice grip with his knees returning to what it was.

‘Why didn’t you go after the ones who had hurt you instead of their parents?’ she repeated.

‘They didn’t kill me, did they? They made me live like this.’

Jessica couldn’t move her body enough to nod, but she understood what he meant. Because he’d killed their parents, the ones who had hurt him would have to endure the emotional pain. If he’d killed the boys themselves, it would have been over.

‘How did you change your name?’ she asked.

His volume went up again. ‘It
wasn’t
easy. It
wasn’t
only a name. It was everything associated with it: being pathetic and weak.’

‘But how did you manage to become somebody else?’

‘I lived on the streets for a while. Someone helped me; they reckoned they could get new identities sorted. Some sort of inside man.’

Jessica had a chilling memory of Harry handing over a brown envelope to a homeless man on the street. She remembered Peter Hunt’s wording in court.
Have you ever seen Mr Thomas act in a questionable way while on duty?
She had said ‘no’, but now she was not so sure. Had Harry’s act indirectly led to all of this?
Could
it have…?

Her expression must have changed.

‘What?’ Randall said.

‘What are you going to do now?’ Jessica asked.

She felt his grip lighten ever so slightly. He blinked away more tears. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t want to kill anyone else?’

‘I love her…’

He was talking about Caroline, Jessica realised. He pressed back a little and she felt even more pressure release from her elbows. She had pins and needles, but she could probably free her arms with a wiggle.

‘It’s why I wanted to get it finished,’ he continued. ‘She came along and I wanted to leave Nigel behind. Once the four of them were finished with, we could have a life together. It would all be over.’

Jessica was playing for time. If she could get him to relax further, then when the feeling came back into her arms, and with her legs already free, she could surprise him and possibly get away. ‘Why did you lock all the houses after you left?’

Randall rubbed his ears again but didn’t reply.

‘Can I ask you something?’ Jessica said. She didn’t give him time to answer. ‘Do you remember when the three of us were watching the news together that morning? You said the coverage was “sick”…’

‘I was talking about them using that old photo. My face…’

He meant the one of him as a teenager with his features bruised and swollen. At the time, she’d thought he had been talking about the murders themselves.

Her bluntness had worked. His tears stopped as he relaxed even further. The feeling had returned to both of her arms and the blurriness had cleared from her head. Jessica thought about her options. Talking to him about letting her go or anything to do with the future would most likely anger him. He must know, deep down, his chances were hopeless. The only thing he could really do was either kill her and run for it, or kill her and hope the investigators blamed it on Nigel Collins, not knowing he and Randall were one and the same.

Either way, her chances didn’t look good. She had to keep him off-balance. ‘How did you meet Ryan?’

It was a question completely out of the blue, something he wouldn’t have expected. He rubbed his ears again. ‘Ryan?’

‘He was a nice guy.’

Randall shook his head slightly and stroked his neck with one of his hands. ‘We started playing pool together and—’

Jessica lunged forward, using the spring of her free legs to propel him away. He yelled as he crashed backwards, but as Jessica turned to run the few feet to the front door, he flicked out his foot and tripped her. She stumbled into the door, fumbling for the handle. She had to take a step back to open it inwards but as she did so, he slammed into her, crushing her between his weight and the door. Her arms were free and this time she reeled back and punched him as hard as she could in the windpipe. He stumbled fully back, obviously dazed.

She released the door handle with her other hand and hammered the base of her palm upwards as hard as she could into the base of his nose, as Harry had taught her. Blood exploded over her arm and Randall’s face. She saw his eyes blink and close, and quickly she turned back to pull the door open, thinking she was free, until she felt a hand grabbing her hair. Her face was slammed hard into the frame once, then twice, and she felt consciousness slipping. She tried hard to focus, feeling her head yanked backwards.

She couldn’t open her eyes because of the pain, but she could hear Randall’s furious voice shouting behind her. Jessica couldn’t make out anything he was saying – his nose was most likely broken and his throat would certainly hurt from her two blows. She could hear him wheezing, but couldn’t stop herself being dragged away from the door into her own bedroom and onto the bed. She was aware of what was going on but helpless to do anything about it, head dazed, limbs unresponsive. Jessica opened her eyes and could see him on top of her, tears running down his heavily bloodied face.

She thought she heard him say, ‘I’m sorry’, and then she felt his hands on her throat, squeezing. There was pressure and she was struggling for breath, unable to kick her legs any longer.

And then she heard the front door open.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

J
essica felt
as if she was dreaming, her head hazy, like the feeling of waking from a vivid dream and not being sure which reality is correct.

‘Rands? Jess?’

Caroline’s voice. Jessica was groggy but the pressure was instantly released from her throat. She could see a fuzzy grey, but Randall’s weight left her as he got up from the bed. She tried to sit. Everything was in slow motion. There were voices from the hallway. She could hear shouting, and thought she heard Caroline say, ‘What’s going on?’

Jessica managed to sit and eventually to stand. There were still voices. She stumbled towards the door and into the hall, vision still grey, but she heard Caroline scream. ‘Jess!’

As she looked across from her bedroom door towards the living room, Jessica’s vision began to clear, although her throat was on fire and breathing painful. Randall was standing behind Caroline with his front to her back, his left arm across her, hugging her into him. His face was a mashed-up mess. The bright red of the blood smeared across his features helped clear the grey that was affecting her vision. Jessica could feel blood on her face, too. She must be a state.

Caroline was terrified. Her eyes were wide, bag dropped by her feet, the contents spilled across the floor.

‘What’s going on?’ Caroline’s voice faltered – and then Jess saw why.

Randall didn’t only have his left arm around his girlfriend, he had the scissors in his right hand, placed next to her neck.

‘Stay calm,’ Jessica said. She couldn’t speak clearly and her thoughts were scrambled. She was speaking to Randall as much as Caroline. ‘Stay calm.’

Randall had more tears running down his face, blending with the blood, creating streaks on his cheeks. ‘Why couldn’t you leave it?’ he said.

Caroline didn’t have a clue what was going on. She kept staring across the hallway at her friend. ‘Jess?’

‘It’s him,’ Jess said softly. ‘He’s Houdini. He’s Nigel Collins. He killed those four people.’

Caroline’s body slumped. ‘What…?’

Jessica didn’t know what else to add. Caroline was in a grey work suit and Randall’s blood had started to run across her shoulder. She was shaking her head in denial, despite still being gripped by her boyfriend and having the scissors held to her neck.

Randall coughed loudly, spluttering more blood. He shifted so his back was to their front door. ‘You’re going to let me go,’ he said, though his words weren’t coming easily. He coughed loudly again and Jessica saw his head twitch once, twice.

Caroline must have felt his grip slacken. She jolted to step away, but he snatched her back, hard.

‘Where are you going to go?’ Jessica asked. Her throat was sore but her vision had more or less cleared. She knew she was pushing her luck.

Randall shook his head and blinked rapidly. ‘I… It doesn’t matter. I’ll start again.’

Caroline was whimpering, unable to process everything that was happening.

‘Let her go,’ Jessica said, taking a step forward. Her eyes were on the scissors in Randall’s hand. She saw his fingers tense on the grip but, he didn’t move the blades any closer to her friend’s neck.

‘Stop there,’ Randall said.

‘Let her go. You told me you loved her, remember?’

Randall peered up and coughed again, before another furious blinking fit. Jessica took a few more small steps towards them as he struggled. She was around eight feet away.

The man’s grip on the scissors was still tight but his grasp on Caroline had slackened.

‘No closer,’ Randall said, but his eyes were not backing up his words.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jessica asked.

She could see the confusion on Caroline’s face and shuffled a little closer as Randall tried to control his blinking. He snatched his left hand away from Caroline but moved the one with the scissors in so they were touching the front of her neck. Using his left hand, he first rubbed his eyes, then hit his own left ear a couple of times, before putting his hand back across Caroline and holding her close.

Jessica simply watched, before taking another small step.

Six feet now.

‘You need to let her go,’ Jessica said, carefully watching Randall, trying to catch his eye. He looked at her, still blinking.

‘What have you done?’ he asked.

‘There was an aspirin in your water.’ Jessica edged forward. ‘The pain you thought was from me hitting you in the throat is actually your windpipe swelling. You need to let her go and then let me call you an ambulance.’

Randall stuttered something, but Jessica could see his eyes had widened. He dropped the scissors, but put his right hand tighter around Caroline’s throat, using his left to fumble with the front door handle.

‘Randall…’ Jessica said. He launched into a coughing fit and Jessica flung herself at him, carefully targeting the left side of his body as Caroline was held to his right. She caught him with her shoulder and his head cannoned into the door. Caroline fell to the floor, free. Jessica kicked the scissors away.

Randall was on his knees, spluttering and struggling to breathe.

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