Cold Justice E-Book

Leigh Russell

• Herausgeber: No Exit Press
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: A DI Geraldine Steel Thriller
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 440

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

The stakes have never been higher for Geraldine Steel. When Alice Lewis is found murdered, the case becomes personal for DI Steel, as Alice was the niece of her childminder, Lisa. Despite Lisa's earlier pleas for help, Geraldine hadn't acted in time to save Alice. Now, driven by guilt and a thirst for justice, Geraldine dives headfirst into the case. But the deeper she digs, the more layers of secrets and lies she uncovers about Alice's life, forcing her to question everything she thought she knew. With an elusive killer watching her every move, Geraldine finds herself caught in a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Leigh Russell delivers a masterful tale of suspense, keeping readers on edge until the final shocking twist.

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CRITICAL ACCLAIM FOR LEIGH RUSSELL

‘A million readers can’t be wrong! Clear some time in your day, sit back and enjoy a bloody good read’ Howard Linskey

‘Taut and compelling’ Peter James

‘Leigh Russell is one to watch’ Lee Child

‘Leigh Russell has become one of the most impressively dependable purveyors of the English police procedural’ Times

‘DI Geraldine Steel is one of the most authoritative female coppers in a crowded field’ Financial Times

‘A brilliant talent in the thriller field’ Jeffery Deaver

‘Brilliant and chilling, Leigh Russell delivers a cracker of a read!’ Martina Cole

‘A great plot that keeps you guessing right until the very end, some subtle subplots, brilliant characters both old and new and as ever a completely gripping read’ Life of Crime

‘The latest police procedural from prolific novelist Leigh Russell is as good and gripping as anything she has published’ Times & Sunday Times Crime Club

‘A fascinating gripping read. The many twists kept me on my toes and second guessing myself’Over The Rainbow Book Blog

‘Well paced with marvellously well-rounded characters and a clever plot that make this another thriller of a read from Leigh Russell’ Orlando Books

‘A well-written, fast-paced and very enjoyable thriller’ The Book Lovers Boudoir

‘An edge-of-your-seat thriller that will keep you guessing’ Honest Mam Reader

‘Well paced, has red herrings and twists galore, keeps your attention and sucks you right into its pages’ Books by Bindu

‘٥ stars! Another super addition to one of my favourite series, which remains as engrossing and fresh as ever!’ The Word is Out

‘A nerve-twisting tour de force that will leave readers on the edge of their seats, Leigh Russell’s latest Detective Geraldine Steel thriller is a terrifying page-turner by this superb crime writer’ Bookish Jottings

‘An absolute delight’ The Literary Shed

‘I simply couldn’t put it down’ Shell Baker, Chelle’s Book Reviews

‘If you love a good action-packed crime novel, full of complex characters and unexpected twists, this is one for you’ Rachel Emms, Chillers, Killers and Thrillers

‘All the things a mystery should be: intriguing, enthralling, tense and utterly absorbing’ Best Crime Books

‘A series that can rival other major crime writers out there…’ Best Books to Read

‘Sharp, intelligent and well plotted’ Crime Fiction Lover

‘Another corker of a book from Leigh Russell… Russell’s talent for writing top-quality crime fiction just keeps on growing’ Euro Crime

‘A definite must read for crime thriller fans everywhere’ Newbooks Magazine

‘Russell’s strength as a writer is her ability to portray believable characters’ Crime Squad

‘A well-written, well-plotted crime novel with fantastic pace and lots of intrigue’ Bookersatz

‘An encounter that will take readers into the darkest recesses of the human psyche’ Crime Time

‘Well written and chock full of surprises, this hard-hitting, edge-of-the-seat instalment is yet another treat… Geraldine Steel looks set to become a household name. Highly recommended’ Euro Crime

‘Good, old-fashioned, heart-hammering police thriller… a no-frills delivery of pure excitement’ SAGA Magazine

‘A gritty and totally addictive novel’ New York Journal of Books

To Michael, Joanna, Phillipa, Phil, Rian and Kezia.

With my love.

Glossary of acronyms

DCI – Detective Chief Inspector (senior officer on case)

DI – Detective Inspector

DS – Detective Sergeant

SOCO – scene of crime officer (collects forensic evidence at scene)

PM – Post mortem or Autopsy (examination of dead body to establish cause of death)

CCTV – Closed Circuit Television (security cameras)

VIIDO – Visual Images, Identification and Detections Office

Prologue

The young woman lay flat on her back, blood pooling on the ground beside her. After so much careful preparation, the struggle hadn’t lasted long. It never did. One minute the girl was alive, the next minute she was dead. The blade had entered at exactly the right spot, in the middle of her chest, and death was swift. With practice, a quick death had become almost assured. It was better that way, reducing any risk of discovery before the job was done, and less messy. The victim had barely attempted to struggle or even remonstrate. As long as they were caught off guard, victims put up no resistance, which was crucial. Killers had been caught by traces of DNA under the fingernails of corpses, a needless blunder.

It was a pity to leave the body so exposed, only half hidden in the bushes, but the longer the delay, the greater the danger that someone would chance to appear. Regret was a waste of energy. So negative a response was as pointless as indulging in a feeling of pride that everything had gone according to the plan. That could come later. All that mattered now was to slip away unseen.

A shaft of sunlight caught The Knife which seemed to glow with a mystical red light, but there was no time to linger, lost in wonder at the beauty of the blade. A cool head and deft reactions were essential: wrap The Knife in a plastic bag, shove it in the backpack, grab the body under the arms and drag it completely out of sight before hurrying home to clean up, all before anyone came along. There was no point in taking chances. However confident the police might be, the negligence of criminals resulted in more arrests than any cunning detective work. With care, the police could be dodged at every step and any unpleasantness avoided.

Attempting to heave the body into the overgrown weeds bordering the waste ground was hazardous. One tiny scratch from a bramble and it would all be over, a trace of DNA left behind like a calling card. Staring blindly up at the sky, the dead woman’s eyes jolted horribly when she was moved. It soon became obvious that any hope of concealing the body would be thwarted by the difficulty of manoeuvring it across uneven ground. It would be too risky to spend time trying to shift it any further. At least it wasn’t lying in the street and it might not be found straight away.

Sunlight penetrating the clouds illuminated a trail of blood that seemed to glow on the ground like crimson arrows pointing the way to the body. Terror struck, transforming an invulnerable killer into a fugitive. It was surprising the power one death could have, even though there had been others.

A fine drizzle began to fall. Slowly it might wash away the blood but, in the meantime, the body could be discovered. Glancing furtively around to make sure no one was watching, the killer fled lightly across scrubby grass.

The Knife dropped on the kitchen worktop with a faint clatter. It rolled over, leaving a smear of blood on the pale grey surface.

Human blood.

Irritated, the killer seized the murder weapon and flung it in the sink, before searching in a cupboard for an old rag and a bottle of bleach and setting to work, scrubbing at the bloodstained table and floor. The smell was repulsive but eventually the marks completely disappeared. Next, The Knife had to be scoured repeatedly until every trace of blood had been removed before it went in the dishwasher.

Having showered and changed, it was time to put on fresh rubber gloves, conceal them beneath thin woollen ones and take a carrier bag of clothes to the laundrette before depositing them at a charity shop. No one there was going to test garments for stray vestiges of human blood stains. A light plastic raincoat and a rag used to clean the kitchen were ditched in a bin somewhere in the centre of the city, hidden under a mess of food wrappers and cigarette packets, bottles and cans. Confident that every trace of the murder had been successfully erased, the killer felt physically and emotionally cleansed. All things considered, it had been a successful day.

That evening, there would be a steak for supper to mark the occasion. Even that served a purpose. After going through the dishwasher several times, The Knife might still retain traces of blood. Cutting raw beef would hopefully obfuscate any lingering evidence. It was very satisfactory knowing The Knife would help to prepare the celebratory steak. Everything was working out well. This run of luck couldn’t continue indefinitely, but it wasn’t over yet. All the same, it made sense to move on; more than two fatal attacks in any one location would be rash. Gratifying though it was, soon it would be time to think about bringing this killing binge to an end. But not yet. Having grown up in York, that seemed a fitting place to draw matters to a close. With the next victim in mind, it was time to go home and finish the job.

1

A louring sky had been threatening rain for several days but, apart from a few brief showers, it had remained dry. Even though they were well into May, the weather remained dull.

‘I wish it would hurry up,’ Geraldine muttered at breakfast, as a radio presenter promised ‘a warmer front’ was on its way.

Ian looked up. ‘What’s that?’

‘They keep saying the weather’s going to improve, but I can’t see any sign of it,’ she replied. ‘This time last year we were having breakfast out on the veranda.’ She glanced out of the kitchen window and scowled. The sky was overcast and it looked as though it might rain at any moment.

‘The forecasts are usually quite accurate these days,’ Ian replied, waving his toast in the air. ‘And didn’t your mother ever tell you not to pull faces. If the wind changes, you could be stuck like that.’

Geraldine laughed. ‘I wish the wind would change. And stop dropping crumbs on the floor.’

They smiled at one another and finished their breakfast in a companionable silence broken only by Tom’s spoon banging on the tray of his high chair.

‘What’s happened to our summer?’ Geraldine grumbled as she bundled the baby into his blue one-piece padded waterproof and pulled up the hood. By the time they reached the car, his mittens were already dangling from their string and his hood had been pulled back. When she asked him where his mittens were, he wriggled his tiny fingers at her and giggled. Geraldine dropped him off at his childminder’s house in Maple Grove, barely five minutes’ walk from the police station in York.

Lisa was holding a girl of about two in her arms when she opened the door. With accustomed ease, she shifted the girl on to one hip so she could carry Tom on the other. Geraldine was about to turn away when Lisa detained her. Afraid of hearing that the childminder could no longer look after Tom, Geraldine hovered anxiously on the doorstep, but Lisa seemed unexpectedly tongue-tied.

‘What is it?’ Geraldine asked after a moment, hiding her impatience. Clearly something was bothering the childminder. After waiting a few more seconds, Geraldine prompted her. ‘Is something the matter?’

‘Well,’ Lisa began, and hesitated, a troubled expression on her usually cheerful face.

Geraldine tensed, expecting bad news. ‘What’s wrong? Is this about Tom?’

‘No, no, it’s nothing to do with Tom. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine,’ Lisa hurried to reassure her.

As if to agree with her, Tom gurgled happily and both women smiled. The little girl began wriggling to be put down, but Lisa ignored her and she settled down again.

‘It’s just that I have a question, if that’s all right,’ Lisa resumed, repeating that her question was not related to Tom in any way.

‘Go on,’ Geraldine said, with a slight feeling of dismay. If this had nothing to do with Tom, then she had an inkling of what might be coming.

‘You work for the police, don’t you?’ Lisa went on, her dark eyes peering uneasily from her plump face.

Geraldine nodded and stifled a sigh. Lisa knew she was a detective inspector investigating serious crime. ‘I try to keep my private and professional affairs separate,’ she said gently.

‘Oh, this isn’t for me,’ Lisa replied, as though that justified any imposition. ‘It’s for my niece, Alice. She needs help. Please wait and listen to me,’ she added, as Geraldine took a step backwards. ‘She really needs your help.’

Geraldine hesitated. ‘Tell me what the problem is,’ she replied. ‘But please be brief. I need to get to work.’

‘Have you got time to come in? I called her and told her you’d be here. She’ll be here any minute. Please. You’ve met her here,’ she added with an air of desperation. ‘You remember her? My niece, Alice.’

Geraldine recalled meeting a woman of around twenty on Lisa’s doorstep. She was slim, with fair hair cut in a short bob, and a long fringe that reached her widely spaced pale eyes. Under her raincoat she had been wearing faded jeans. Geraldine had noted nothing remarkable about her appearance, but remembered thinking that she had seemed like a pleasant girl.

Lisa smiled eagerly at Geraldine. ‘You remember her, don’t you?’

‘I can’t stay long,’ Geraldine replied. Seeing Lisa’s dashed expression, she added apologetically, ‘I have to get to work, but I can wait for a few minutes.’

Hoping that the childminder would tell her it wasn’t really important, she was disappointed when Lisa’s frown cleared. ‘That would be wonderful,’ she cried out. ‘Thank you so much. She should be here any time now.’

Geraldine was slightly irritated, but the childminder was reliable and Tom was settled with her, so she was reluctant to upset her. After living for so long as an independent woman, her peace of mind was now completely dependent on her son’s happiness. Lisa handed Tom to Geraldine who removed his outer clothing and lay him on a mat where he gurgled happily and reached out to her. She bent her head and pretended to nibble his fingers and he squealed with delight.

‘I don’t know what’s happened to Alice,’ Lisa said uneasily after a moment. ‘She isn’t answering her phone. I left her a message earlier, insisting she come round. She should be here soon.’

Geraldine shifted in her seat.

‘I’ll call her again,’ Lisa said, and hit a speed dial button on her phone. ‘The friend I told you about is here and she needs to get to work,’ Lisa said. ‘Are you coming round or not? Please, call me back right away.’

Lisa rang off and turned to Geraldine, her eyes darting around the room, as though searching for reassurance. She was clutching the arm of her chair so tightly her knuckles turned white.

‘Alice refuses to talk to me about her boyfriend, but—’ She began and hesitated. ‘The fact is, I think he’s abusing her physically.’

Geraldine considered what Lisa had said. ‘Would she be prepared to make a statement? These situations can be dealt with discreetly, but they are always difficult to investigate, and it’s almost impossible when the victim is unwilling to come forward.’

‘What if she’s in danger?’ Lisa blurted out.

‘What makes you say that? Lisa, in what way do you think she may be in danger?’

Lisa drew in a deep breath before answering. ‘What if things get out of hand and he kills her?’ she murmured.

‘Do you really believe that’s going to happen? If you’re genuinely concerned, you have to persuade her to report him to the police. Or she might want to talk to someone? Perhaps her GP might be able to help?’

Lisa shook her head. She seemed close to tears. ‘I don’t know what to do. This is driving me to distraction.’ She sounded desperate. ‘Alice is a nurse,’ she added, failing to repress a faint note of pride. ‘She works in intensive care, so she’s not one to panic or become hysterical. But she’s seemed – oh, I don’t know – overwrought lately. And she refuses to talk to me about her boyfriend.’

The bell rang and Lisa leaped to her feet.

‘That’ll be her now,’ she cried out. ‘At last!’

Lisa hurried out of the room and the two-year-old girl followed her. Geraldine heard voices in the hall and a moment later, Lisa returned. She was alone, apart from the little girl toddling behind her.

‘It was the postman,’ she said, flopping down on a chair with a sigh. ‘I don’t know what’s happened to Alice.’

‘She should take her concerns to the police station,’ Geraldine said gravely. ‘If she has a violent partner, a few words from one of my colleagues might be all it takes to calm the situation down. And if that’s not enough, we can advise her about keeping herself safe. If necessary, she can apply for a restraining order against her partner. But if she’s suffering abuse, I would strongly advise her not to ignore it, not if there’s a chance she could be at risk. I don’t want to prejudge anything, but these things can sometimes escalate.’

Lisa lowered her voice, although no one but Geraldine could hear her. ‘What if she won’t do anything? What can I do to protect her from him?’

Geraldine hesitated. If this was anything other than a vexatious claim, such an accusation needed to be investigated properly, through the right channels. It was not something to chat about in private behind closed doors. But it was possible Lisa simply didn’t like her niece’s boyfriend. There could be several reasons why she might hold a grudge against him. Perhaps she was possessive over her niece. Clearly devoted to her, she might think no one was good enough for her. Even if the boyfriend was treating her niece badly and was making her unhappy, that did not mean he was abusing her. So far, this was all very vague.

‘You are making a serious allegation,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you have any evidence to support your suspicions?’

Lisa shrugged and shook her head. In spite of her reservations, Geraldine was bothered. Lisa had not struck her as someone who was prone to exaggeration.

Lisa leaned forward in her chair. ‘Can you help her?’ she asked.

Geraldine spoke very carefully. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to instigate an official investigation unless your niece chooses to come forward. If she does, she needs to take any proof she has to the police station so we can look into this properly. But it’s unlikely anyone will do anything about unsubstantiated accusations you report.’ She sighed. ‘There’s nothing we can do if your niece herself denies your allegations. You’d be surprised how often that happens and there’s nothing we can do. I’m sorry, but I need to hear this from her.’

Lisa looked at her, dismayed, and Geraldine stood up and took her leave.

Apologising profusely, Lisa followed her to the front door. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned this to you,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t appropriate, I know, but I’m desperate.’

Geraldine reassured her that she had done nothing wrong; it was understandable that she would want to help her niece.

‘The thing is,’ Lisa added, ‘she’s usually such a level-headed girl. Nothing spooks her. Like I said, she’s a nurse and she works in intensive care, so she’s not one to get hysterical about anything. But this boyfriend…’ Her voice petered out. ‘I can tell the situation is bothering her. And she’s such a lovely girl.’ She was close to tears again.

‘I wish there was something I could do,’ Geraldine said. ‘If you can persuade her to take her concerns to the police, hopefully that will help. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.’

Lisa nodded miserably and Geraldine left, feeling dissatisfied. Ian noticed her deflated mood when she arrived home that evening, and asked her what was wrong. When she told him about her conversation with the childminder, he shook his head, frowning, and his fair hair flopped forwards.

‘She had no business thrusting her niece’s problems at you like that,’ he said.

‘She didn’t thrust anything at me,’ Geraldine protested. ‘I said I’d listen to her.’

‘And you did,’ he replied. ‘But that’s all, and even that was more than she should have expected. We pay her to take care of Tom, not to use you as a private police force for members of her family. If she comes on to you like that again, tell her in no uncertain terms that you can’t listen to any more domestic problems.’

Geraldine was tempted to laugh at his overreaction. He had a point, but she couldn’t shake off a nagging anxiety about Alice. Lisa was a sensible woman and it was hard to believe she would throw out accusations against her niece’s boyfriend without good reason. Still, so far the allegations were nothing more than speculation on Lisa’s part and, besides, the police were powerless to take any action unless Alice herself came and asked for help. With a sigh, she tried to dismiss what she had heard as a domestic falling-out.

2

Geraldine was having lunch in the police station canteen with two of her colleagues, dark-haired Ariadne and blonde Naomi. Geraldine enjoyed mulling over issues at work, and swapping rumours about colleagues, with two women she considered her close friends. She had worked with her sergeant, Ariadne, for several years. Almost the same age, they had developed a strong bond. Naomi, the youngest of the three, was also a detective sergeant. While Ariadne was happily married and readily admitted she had never wanted to rise above the rank of sergeant, Naomi was ambitious, and Geraldine and Ariadne were both confident their young colleague would do well. Geraldine had become an unofficial mentor to her and the young sergeant was quietly devoted to her.

‘How’s Tom?’ Ariadne asked, brushing her long, loose curls off her face.

‘Tom’s fine,’ Geraldine replied, smiling. ‘He’s settled down well with his new childminder, thank goodness.’

‘I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending all day looking after other people’s children.’ Naomi pulled a face, making Geraldine and Ariadne laugh.

‘Yes, spending time with little children must be far worse than questioning vicious criminals,’ Ariadne said, laughing. ‘I think you may have been working here too long and it’s warped your perception of humanity.’

Chatting about how pleased she was with Lisa, Geraldine held back from mentioning the childminder’s concerns for her niece. After all, what sounded like nothing more than a family disagreement was hardly a matter for the police to discuss. They began talking about their holiday plans. Ariadne told them she was keen to go back to Greece, where her mother had grown up. She still had family there. Naomi fancied a trip to Cuba and Geraldine encouraged her to travel while she was still young and childless.

‘That’s assuming I want to have children,’ Naomi replied, with a grin. ‘We’re not all born with a maternal instinct.’

Geraldine nodded. ‘To be honest, I wasn’t either. We never actually planned to have Tom. I was always too focused on work to have time to even think about starting a family. Yet here I am, a doting mother.’ She shrugged, smiling. ‘These things happen. It’s impossible to explain, but it changes everything.’ Before she had Tom, she would never have believed what a difference one small life could make to her.

While Geraldine was talking, Ariadne focused quietly on her food. Glancing at her, Geraldine wondered whether she was talking about Tom too much and quickly changed the subject. Back to talking about holidays again, they were discussing the benefits of going away for a weekend as opposed to a longer break, when they were summoned to a briefing. They all exchanged a grave look. Unless they were mistaken, this might mean there had been a murder. Gulping down a final mouthful of coffee, Naomi jumped to her feet.

‘Come on,’ she said eagerly, before she turned and hurried away.

Ariadne stood up as well, as Geraldine downed the dregs of her coffee and clambered to her feet.

‘Let’s go and see what’s in store for us,’ she said, her usual burst of adrenaline at the prospect of starting a new investigation clouded by a faint sense of foreboding.

Detective Chief Inspector Binita Hewitt was waiting in the major incident room, impatiently tapping one gleaming shoe on the floor. Like Geraldine and Ariadne, the DCI had dark hair and bright black eyes. With her slender figure, trim bob and penetrating stare, her neat jacket seemed to reflect the precision she demonstrated in her work. Geraldine, Ariadne and Naomi were the last to arrive, and Binita began straight away by announcing that a woman’s body had been discovered in the street, not far from the police station. Seeing an image of the victim appear on the screen behind Binita, Geraldine bit her lip to stifle a cry.

‘Her name is Alice James,’ Binita said.

The name confirmed what Geraldine already knew. The murder victim’s aunt had asked her for help only the previous day and she had refused. All her adult life had been dedicated to seeking justice for the dead, but on this occasion she had failed to save the living.

‘She was discovered just after eight this morning, stabbed in the heart,’ Binita went on. ‘It looks as though she was killed at the site where her body was found. She was on her way out or on her way back home, as the body was found at the entrance to an alley only a hundred yards from where she lived.’

Geraldine felt she could no longer conceal her knowledge of the dead woman. Briefly she told her colleagues about the concerns shared with her by the victim’s aunt only the previous day.

‘I advised her aunt to tell Alice to come here and report her situation,’ she concluded. ‘I did what I could to persuade her to encourage her niece to come forward, but it seems I didn’t do enough.’

‘What more could you have done?’ Ariadne asked.

Geraldine shrugged. ‘I could have spoken to Alice myself.’

‘If her aunt couldn’t persuade the girl to report her boyfriend, she was hardly likely to listen to you,’ Ariadne replied.

‘She might have taken exception to learning that her aunt had made these allegations to you,’ Binita pointed out. ‘And, in any case, I doubt your intervention would have made any difference.’

‘If I’d acted sooner, she might not have been killed,’ Geraldine muttered wretchedly.

Binita assured her that she had done nothing wrong. No individual officer could be expected to follow up every complaint and accusation immediately, especially not when it appeared to be a domestic problem. If they did, they would never have time to investigate serious crimes.

‘I didn’t think it was worth mentioning,’ Geraldine explained to Ariadne as they were driving to the crime scene. ‘But I should have taken action more quickly, done more to help her.’

‘You need to stop thinking like that. You can’t blame yourself,’ Ariadne insisted. ‘You didn’t know what was going on, and you could have had no idea what was going to happen. How many women argue with their boyfriends, and how often does it end in a fatality? Haven’t you ever argued with Ian? In any case, even if you were planning to speak to her later on, it would probably have been too late. There’s nothing you could have done to save her.’ She paused. ‘I think it’s going to rain,’ she added, in a transparent attempt to change the subject.

Ariadne’s attempt to draw attention to the weather was pointless as they had already arrived in Wenlock Terrace, where the body had been found. They were only round the corner from the police station.

‘It would have been just as quick to walk here,’ Ariadne grumbled.

Geraldine didn’t answer. She was wondering if Lisa had heard the devastating news yet and, if not, who would be tasked with telling her Alice was dead.

3

Binita had hesitated to put Geraldine on the investigation team, since she knew the victim’s aunt and had discussed the victim’s situation with her. Geraldine had argued quite forcefully that she had met Alice only once, and then just for a matter of a few seconds, so she couldn’t claim to have any real connection with her. As for Lisa, Geraldine pointed out that she was the victim’s aunt, and so not even immediate family. After some persuasion, Binita had finally agreed to allow Geraldine to be part of the team investigating Alice’s murder. Geraldine was pleased. For once her reasoning wasn’t entirely rational, but she felt she somehow owed it to Lisa and to the dead girl to track down this killer and make sure he faced the full force of the law.

Alice had lived in one of a row of old terraced cottages in Wenlock Terrace. The properties had been split into apartments which appeared to be well maintained on the outside. The brickwork was in need of repointing on some of the house fronts, but the paintwork generally looked reasonably fresh, at least from a distance. There were several magnificent trees on the opposite side of a street which would have looked like any other pleasant residential area, were it not for the white forensic tent casting a shadow over its immediate surroundings.

A light rain had begun to fall by the time they arrived at the crime scene, which was located at the entrance to a narrow lane running between Wenlock Terrace and the next parallel street, Ordnance Lane. The far end of the alley was closed, and the pavement and road on either side of the tent were cordoned off. Uniformed officers were on duty at either end of the alley, preventing members of the public from entering the lane. Pulling on a protective suit and shoe covers, Geraldine entered the tent where officers were busy collecting evidence. Markers had been placed by several dark patches on the ground. Closer examination revealed them to be blood stains presumably left when the victim had staggered, or had been dragged, into the alley. A scene of crime scene officer greeted her and explained that the forensic tent had been erected before a light rain had started, so fortunately the ground around the crime scene was still more or less dry.

‘A stroke of luck for us, eh?’ he added cheerily.

Geraldine nodded without answering. Whatever good luck there was at the scene had not extended to the victim. Having looked around, she asked if they had established when the attack had taken place.

A second scene of crime officer shook her head, her eyes wrinkled in a cautious smile of greeting. ‘The doctor placed the time of death at between three and seven this morning. It’s lucky she was reported in time for us to get here before the rain,’ she added. ‘That could have complicated matters.’

Geraldine frowned on hearing a second officer refer to the good luck the forensic team were enjoying at the crime scene. Wondering whether Alice’s death had been the result of a targeted attack, with a tremor of guilt she remembered how Lisa had begged for her help. If only Geraldine had acted on Lisa’s concerns, perhaps Alice would still be alive. But Ariadne was right. There was no point tormenting herself with speculation about what might have been. Whatever had happened to lead to this tragedy, the fact remained that Alice was dead. All Geraldine could do now was concentrate all her efforts on finding the killer. Nothing could be allowed to distract her from that objective, certainly not any emotional response to the murder.

Reluctantly, Geraldine turned her attention to the body. As a rule, she was curious to see a victim whose unlawful death she was investigating, but she found it disturbing to see the face of a woman whom she had recently seen alive, however briefly. Alice was lying on her back. A scene of crime officer confirmed that was the position in which she had been found, just at the Wenlock Terrace end of the short alleyway. She lay sprawled on a bed of dirty weeds and litter that had been dropped in the alley, or had blown in from the street. It was a depressing scene. Everything looked empty: a discarded beer can, a crumpled cigarette packet, a small plastic water bottle, a dead woman’s eyes. Other than the team of officers in their protective clothing, a few straggly weeds provided the only signs of life.

Drawing closer, Geraldine gazed down at the dead woman’s ghastly white face. Her eyes appeared to be staring fixedly at anyone who leaned over to look at her. She had no obvious injury, other than the one blazoned by a large blood stain showing almost black against the pale fabric of her shirt. The front of her jacket was streaked and blood had dripped down her jeans, suggesting that she had been upright when she was stabbed.

‘No defence wounds,’ the scene of crime officer said grimly, as though the victim’s failure to resist her assailant was somehow more shameful than the attack itself. ‘She didn’t even try to fight back.’

‘It probably happened unexpectedly and too quickly for her to react,’ Geraldine replied, feeling compelled to defend the victim. At the same time, she made a mental note that Alice appeared to have made no attempt to fight off her attacker. ‘Hopefully she managed to scratch her killer and we’ll be able to find something under her fingernails,’ she added. ‘There’s always a chance.’

‘If we’re lucky,’ the scene of crime officer agreed.

Geraldine stiffened on hearing the word ‘lucky’ again. Tempted to yell that nothing could be considered ‘lucky’ at a time like this, she looked away and kept quiet. There was nothing to be gained by carping at the use of an inappropriate word. It wasn’t as though Alice could hear them talking and take offence at any disregard for her feelings.

‘I hope so anyway,’ her colleague went on. ‘I really hope so. Poor woman. What a way to go. Let’s hope you catch the brute who did this soon, and we can all go home and die peacefully in our beds.’

‘I’m not sure I’m ready to go home and die quite yet,’ Geraldine said, attempting to speak lightly. ‘And before I do, I want to know I’ve helped put the monster who did this behind bars,’ she added, with sudden intensity.

‘Amen to that,’ her colleague replied fervently. ‘Prison’s too good for some people, if you want my opinion.’

‘How did she die?’ Geraldine asked. ‘It looks like a chest wound?’

Her colleague confirmed that Alice had been fatally stabbed in the chest. ‘By person or persons unknown.’

Geraldine nodded. A stabbing was certainly what the state of the victim’s clothes suggested. She stared down at the dead woman, but there was nothing more to be gained from standing there, so she went to question the man who had reported finding the body to see if he had anything to add to what she had already learned.

‘I was on my way to work,’ a bespectacled young man told her, wiping the back of his hand across his brow. ‘I cycle to school along the lane. It’s a short cut. I’m a maths teacher,’ he added apologetically, as though his job was somehow embarrassing. ‘Well, as I told your constable, I was cycling along this morning, minding my own business, as usual, when I saw her lying in the alley. I nearly went straight past. To be honest, I thought she was drunk or on drugs or something. My wife’s not happy about my cycling in the alley but you don’t expect to run into trouble in the daytime, do you?’

Geraldine thanked him for stopping and reporting the body.

‘That’s quite all right. It’s what anyone would do. I told them I’d get to school as soon as possible, so I wonder if you still need me here? I mean, I’m more than willing to stay if you think I can be of any further assistance. To be honest, if I had to choose between finding a dead body and facing Year Nine first thing in the morning, it would be a hard decision.’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry. That must have sounded very flippant. I didn’t mean any disrespect to the poor woman. It’s just that behaviour seems to be at an all-time low at the moment and we’re all struggling to keep control in the classroom. And they think Lord of the Flies is fiction. Well, good luck in your job when these kids are let loose on the streets with nothing to do all day, that’s all I can say.’

The witness had given his contact details to one of Geraldine’s colleagues and he had nothing to add to what they already knew. Thanking him again, she let him go and he cycled off with an air of desperate determination.

4

Alice had been living with her boyfriend, Rob, who was a builder, decorator and all-round handyman. He was at work that day, so Geraldine had Ariadne drive her to the site where he was currently employed as a plasterer. The stocky foreman of the building site looked faintly puzzled when Geraldine asked to speak to Robert Stiller.

‘Robert Stiller?’ he repeated, literally scratching his large bald head. Geraldine was about to explain, when his bewildered expression cleared. ‘You mean Rob? Rob Stiller. Yes, of course, Rob Stiller. Well, I’m sorry, but he’s busy. Plastering is skilful work and time-consuming, and on a job like this time is money.’ He winked, before continuing earnestly, ‘I don’t suppose you realise this, but if I were to call him away from what he’s doing and let you hold him up, the mixture would start to set and that could be an expensive blunder for us. Listen, Miss, why don’t you come back about ten to five? He knocks off at five so you can catch him then.’ He turned away.

‘I’m afraid this can’t wait,’ Geraldine replied, holding up her warrant card. ‘I need to speak to him right away.’

The foreman stared at her. ‘What’s this all about? Is he being arrested? What’s going on?’

‘He isn’t being arrested,’ she reassured the foreman. She didn’t add ‘for now’, instead saying, ‘We’d just like to ask him a few questions. It won’t take long. But we do need him to come with us right now, plaster or no plaster.’

‘Plastering is skilful work,’ the foreman bleated. ‘He can’t just abandon a wall halfway through. He has to finish the section he’s working on or it will end up all uneven.’

‘I’m sure you can manage,’ she replied firmly. ‘I’m sorry, but we do need to speak to him right now. If the work can’t wait, you’ll have to ask someone else on your team to take over from him. There’s a patrol car parked just outside your fence and another officer waiting at the back of the site, so you can tell him there’s no point in him trying to avoid us. It really will be much easier all round if he comes with us quietly.’

Cursing, the foreman went to find Rob. He returned with a tall man at his heels. Rob was wearing a black baseball cap and his blue dungarees were speckled with white paint and flecks of plaster. He smiled at Geraldine as he asked what she wanted with him. She asked him to confirm his name without returning his smile. His relaxed manner made it seem almost unbelievable that he could have stabbed his girlfriend that morning before coming to work, but she reserved her judgement. No two murderers were alike, and it was impossible to tell whether the man facing her was completely innocent or a violent killer. She couldn’t even tell whether his insouciance was genuine. He could be adroit at concealing his feelings, or he might be a psychopath, able to kill without a shred of remorse. It was even feasible that he had some kind of dissociative personality disorder that rendered him capable of killing without understanding or even remembering exactly what he had done.

‘We’d like to talk to you at the police station,’ she said quietly.

Watching him closely, she saw him display irritation but no fear. He removed his cap, revealing close-cropped fair hair, and gazed at her with long-lashed blue eyes. His response made him appear innocent, but once more she was aware that his reaction might be misleading.

‘The police station? Whatever for?’ he asked, sounding surprised rather than defensive.

‘This way, please,’ she replied.

Whatever her impression of him, he was the main suspect in a murder enquiry, and it did not harm to let him wait and wonder what evidence had been gathered so far. Not until they reached an interview room did Geraldine explain the reason for questioning him.

‘I’m sorry to tell you that your girlfriend’s body was discovered in an alley near your lodgings at eight o’clock this morning,’ she said quietly.

‘Alice?’ he blurted out, his air of bewilderment turning to shock. ‘Alice’s body found in an alley? My Alice? I don’t believe it. You must be mistaken. There was nothing wrong with her. You’re making a mistake.’ He shook his head in apparent disbelief.

‘I’m afraid there’s no doubt about it,’ Geraldine replied, keen to give away as little as possible.

If Rob let slip anything that confirmed he knew how she had died, it would be tantamount to a confession.

‘What makes you think it’s her?’ he asked, his shock turning to perplexity. ‘It can’t be Alice. I don’t believe it. Found in an alley? What was she doing in an alley?’

His reaction was exactly how an innocent man might respond, but also how a careful killer might behave if he was covering up his guilt. Noting how he seemed to remain in control of himself, Geraldine wasn’t convinced either way.

‘I’m really very sorry,’ she said gently. ‘I’m afraid there’s no doubt the victim is Alice James. We have evidence confirming the identification.’

Geraldine didn’t add that she herself had recognised the dead woman. Meanwhile, Rob had turned pale. He kept shaking his head, as though trying to throw off what he had heard.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked in a voice that was suddenly hoarse. ‘What are you talking about? Is she ill or was there an accident? Is she going to be all right? Where is she?’

‘I’m sorry to tell you Alice is dead.’

‘I don’t understand. What’s happened to her?’

‘What were you doing between three o’clock and seven o’clock this morning?’ Geraldine asked him.

Rob stared at her with a stunned expression. ‘Are you saying she was murdered?’

Geraldine repeated her question.

‘Are you seriously asking me for an alibi?’

Geraldine wondered if he was playing for time while he decided what to say. His next words were even less helpful.

‘Do I need a lawyer? I think I need a lawyer, don’t I? I’m entitled to a phone call and a lawyer.’

Unable to continue with the interview until the duty brief arrived, Geraldine went to speak to Naomi, who had been looking into Rob’s history. Ariadne came over to join their conversation, and they went to the canteen for a quick coffee while they discussed what Naomi had discovered.

‘I think he would have been more demonstrative if he was guilty,’ Geraldine told Ariadne and Naomi. ‘If anything, I think he was in a state of shock and struggling to believe what he was hearing.’

‘Shocked that his girlfriend was dead, or shocked that he had been picked up so quickly?’ Ariadne asked.

‘Perhaps he just hadn’t had time to work out his defence,’ Naomi agreed.

‘That’s what we’re going to have to find out,’ Geraldine replied. She turned to Naomi. ‘In the meantime, what have you come up with?’

‘He was charged with assault seven years ago, but that was a fight with another man, not a domestic. He was on probation for a year after that and doing community service. Apparently he was influenced by an older lad who ended up in prison. It was Rob’s first offence and he was still a teenager, so the court were lenient. There’s been nothing since. Either he’s a reformed character, or he’s been more careful not to get caught.’

‘So he’s capable of violence,’ Ariadne said thoughtfully.

‘Everyone is capable of violence,’ Naomi pointed out acidly, before dropping her gaze and reaching for her coffee.

Geraldine wondered whether to report what Lisa had told her, but decided not to mention that Alice’s aunt had suspected Rob of abusing her. Without any supporting evidence, such speculation might only cause unnecessary confusion.

‘Could this incident have been a mugging that went wrong?’ Geraldine murmured, studying the report on Rob’s earlier assault. ‘It took place outside on the street. Perhaps it was a mugging that went wrong, and he panicked. There was presumably no evidence of premeditation.’

‘And it was a few years ago,’ Ariadne chimed in. ‘But even if he tried to rob someone on impulse, the fact is he broke his victim’s nose and it looks like he wasn’t going to leave it there. If a couple of lads hadn’t seen what was happening and intervened, the victim could have been seriously injured.’

‘We don’t deal with speculation about what might have happened,’ Geraldine said. ‘It was a first offence that could have been an opportunist mugging that went wrong. He was a teenager when it happened.’

‘That was his defence,’ Naomi said sourly. ‘They argued at the time that his victim put temptation in his way and he was too hard up to resist. If you ask me, the courts are far too lenient with casual street crime. It was only by chance he didn’t seriously hurt his victim.’

‘Innocent until proven guilty,’ Ariadne said.

‘But he wasn’t innocent!’ Naomi protested. ‘He was caught, red-handed, in the act of mugging someone. If he’d been dealt with severely enough at that point, while he was still young, who knows what future violent crimes might have been prevented?’

Geraldine sighed. She had been through that argument with Naomi before. Her young colleague was adamant that light sentences for minor infringements encouraged offenders to go on to commit more serious crimes.

‘You could be right,’ Geraldine conceded, partly to draw the argument to a close before it had really started, ‘but we’re not responsible for the courts’ decisions, and who can say whether their ruling was misguided? Anyway,’ she went on rapidly, seeing Naomi opening her mouth to protest, ‘in the meantime, we’ve got a job to do. Let’s hope the pathologist’s report will give us something definite to go on. If there’s any evidence Rob was present at the time of the murder, we’ll have this wrapped up in no time, with or without any history of mugging.’

But she had an uneasy feeling the case might not be resolved so easily.

5

Hoping Rob would be more willing to talk after a night in a cell, Geraldine left the police station. A few of her colleagues were setting off for the nearby pub for a quick pint before going home, but she declined Naomi’s invitation to join them. Before Tom was born, she used to enjoy the opportunity to unwind with colleagues at the end of a day’s work, but today it was her turn to pick Tom up from the childminder. For once, she wasn’t looking forward to collecting him, but she couldn’t avoid Lisa indefinitely. Even if Ian agreed to swap with her and collect their son that afternoon, Geraldine would still have to face the childminder the next day. She was afraid Lisa would say she could no longer look after Tom. It was difficult finding someone suitable to take care of him and, having found someone they liked and trusted, it would be devastating to have to move Tom now he was settled and happy with her.

Rehearsing what she might say when she arrived, Geraldine drove slowly to the small house in Maple Grove where Lisa lived. All along the street, the front yards were narrow, with space for little more than large rubbish bins in front of the windows, but they all looked neat and well kept. A few had large flower pots displaying shrubs and flowers placed near the step up to the front door. There was no pot on the ground in the yard outside Lisa’s house, but a basket of bright red geraniums and trailing blue lobelia hung beside the door, brightening up the appearance of the house. Usually Geraldine paused for a second to admire the display, but today she had no interest in Lisa’s flowers with their blood-red petals.

When Lisa came to the door, it was obvious she had been crying.

‘I’m so sorry about Alice,’ Geraldine blurted out clumsily. ‘Would you like me to come in? If you want to talk?’

Tears slid down Lisa’s cheeks as she nodded. ‘Thank you. Daisy’s not here today, so it’s just me and Tom.’

She led Geraldine into the living room and they both sat down.

‘Now,’ Lisa said, pausing to blow her nose, ‘I want to know what happened. She was my niece, but she was more like a daughter to me. When she was growing up she spent more time in my house than her own. My sister works and I used to help out, picking Alice up from school when she was small and bringing her back here for tea.’ A ghost of a smile crossed her face. ‘She still used to come to me for advice, even—’ She broke off again to look at Geraldine, her face pale and taut. ‘I know I shouldn’t have asked you for help, but I was desperate. When your colleague came and told me… I couldn’t really take it in. I just wish I’d been more assertive. I should have made you understand the danger she was in.’

‘Please,’ Geraldine interrupted her firmly. ‘Don’t go on. You have nothing to apologise for. You did everything you could to help her. And you certainly don’t need to apologise to me. It was perfectly understandable that you would want to reach out for any help you could find. I’m just sorry I couldn’t do anything to help.’

Tom gurgled happily and nuzzled Geraldine’s neck as Lisa murmured that she had been told Alice’s body had been found near where she lived.

‘They told me she was murdered,’ Lisa added. ‘Is that true?’

‘We’re investigating the circumstances of her death,’ Geraldine replied carefully.

‘They said she was stabbed,’ Lisa said. ‘Tell me, please, is that what happened?’

Geraldine nodded. A press release would soon be going out, with a request for any witnesses to come forward. There was no point in keeping anything from Lisa that would be reported on the local news channel before long. ‘We suspect she was killed in the early hours of this morning by one stab wound to her chest. It would have been over very quickly,’ she added helplessly, aware of how futile any attempt at comfort was in such a situation.

‘How quickly?’ Lisa asked woodenly. Her expression had become fixed, as though she had been turned to stone. Only her eyes betrayed her anguish as she struggled to process what she was hearing.

‘She wouldn’t have suffered,’ Geraldine assured her, although they both knew there was no way of knowing whether that was true or not.

‘She wouldn’t have suffered,’ Lisa repeated flatly.

‘There was just one stab wound that pierced her heart.’

All at once, Lisa lost control and burst into noisy sobs. ‘Her heart,’ she wailed. ‘Her poor heart. Oh, Alice, Alice. She was such a good-hearted girl. She would always do anything for anyone.’

Tom stopped wriggling on Geraldine’s lap and turned to blink sleepily at the childminder.

‘I’m sorry,’ Lisa mumbled, still sobbing. ‘It’s such a lot to take in. I can’t believe she’s dead. She was always so healthy. So fit. She went for a run every morning and joined a gym. She should have lived a long life. I know she was worried, but I never really took her concern seriously.’

You took it seriously enough to ask me for help, Geraldine thought, but she kept that to herself, instead asking whether Lisa had a friend who could keep her company until her husband came home.

Lisa turned a stricken face to Geraldine. ‘I’ll be all right, but what about my sister? Do I have to be the one to tell her?’

‘A family liaison officer will be with Alice’s mother now,’ Geraldine replied.

As she spoke, the phone rang.