Kill Me Again (29 page)

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Authors: Rachel Abbott

BOOK: Kill Me Again
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Maggie didn’t know how she felt. Breathing seemed difficult, as if a band of steel was being tightened around her chest. Half of her wanted to reach out, hold him close and beg him to explain. The other half wanted to slap him hard across the face, to release some of the pent-up hurt, fear and anger that had been seething through her for the last few days. Once the tears started, though, she wouldn’t be able to stop them and she couldn’t fall apart yet. Not until she knew if he still loved her.

For a moment she didn’t think he was going to let her into the room, and then he stepped back and held the door wide.

Maggie walked into a small room that held not much more than a wardrobe, a hard-looking double bed and a flat-screen TV on the wall. A bedside lamp cast ovoid shadows on the beige walls. She sat down heavily on the bed and stared at her husband, who was leaning against the wall. She had been married to this man for ten years, and at that moment it felt as if she didn’t know him at all. Did anybody ever really know anybody else? Neither of them spoke for what seemed like minutes.

‘Talk,’ Maggie eventually said, setting her face in what she hoped was an assertive expression.

Duncan shook his head as if it was all a mystery to him.

‘I’m sorry, Maggie. I didn’t want to leave you. I’m sorry I left the kids alone, but I knew you’d be home soon, and Josh sometimes seems like the most grown-up of all of us. I knew they’d be safe.’

He hadn’t known they would be safe. At best, he had
hoped
they would be safe. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t want to reveal what she knew. She wanted to see how much of the truth he was going to tell her.

‘I had to go. I was putting you all in danger,’ Duncan said. He paused and looked down. ‘I’d borrowed some money, and not from the right sort of people. They wanted it back. They said they would come to the house. It was best if I left. I didn’t do it for me; I did it for you.’

She felt the first stirrings of something like disgust and pushed them away.

‘In what way would we have been safer without you there if some men were coming to collect their cash?’ she asked.

Duncan looked nonplussed, as well he might. ‘It was me they wanted. Not you.’

‘No it wasn’t. It was their
cash
they wanted. And I was probably a better bet than you, so what would have kept them away?’

He fell silent, and she waited.

‘I don’t know what else to tell you,’ he said, a look of almost defiance on his face.

Trying to control her anger, Maggie pulled her phone out of her pocket. ‘Right. I’m calling the police. They can catch these guys, and that will be the end of it.’

Duncan lunged across the room and grabbed her wrist.

‘What the hell are you doing, Duncan!’ she shouted.

‘Don’t call the police, Maggie. It’s a bit more complicated.’

She waited again, and could see his mind ticking over. He was trying to think of another, slightly more plausible lie; it was written all over his face.

‘Duncan, I know a lot more than you realise. I’ll know if you’re lying to me, so I suggest you don’t even start.’

He still didn’t speak. He looked at the floor, but she was sure it wasn’t shame she was seeing. She could see his eyes were open, staring intently down as if trying to work out what to say next.

‘I thought you’d left me for another woman, you bastard,’ she hissed at him.

Duncan lifted his head and looked at her. ‘I wouldn’t do that, Mags. You know that.’

‘I don’t know
anything
. Have you any idea what the last few days have been like for me and the kids?’

He dropped his head again, and Maggie wished she could see his expression. She didn’t want him to have time to work out what to say – to decide what would cause the least grief or anger.

‘Start talking, Duncan. And start at the beginning because I know this is not only about what’s happening now. I want to know it all.’

Duncan slid slowly down the wall until he came to rest on the floor, his forearms resting on his raised knees. Maggie waited. She wasn’t going to prompt him. Eventually he started to talk without looking at her, staring at the carpet between his feet.

‘It started when I was at university.’

‘Which university would that be?’ Maggie asked, her expression showing nothing.

‘You know where I went to university. Leeds,’ he responded.

Maggie felt as if somebody had stamped on her chest, and for a moment she thought she might actually stop breathing. He was still lying to her. This man she loved with all her heart was still lying.

‘Stop it,’ she said. ‘Stop the bloody lies, Duncan – or should I say Michael.’ She practically spat out the name and was rewarded with a look of shock on her husband’s face. He didn’t speak, and she wasn’t going to prompt him. The next step was down to him.

After what seemed like hours, Duncan shook his head, and he began to speak.

‘The story I’m going to tell you isn’t about Duncan Taylor.
I

m
Duncan Taylor.
Me
. This is about another boy – somebody you’ve never met. And yes, his name is Michael.’

46

‘I told you to go home hours ago,’ Tom said as he approached Becky’s desk. ‘We’re neither of us much good to anybody unless we get a few hours sleep, and we need to start bright and early tomorrow with clear heads.’

Becky yawned and stretched her arms high in the air. The incident room was fairly quiet by now, although it would stay manned throughout the night.

‘You’re right, I know. But I’m getting so frustrated with this Adam Mellor guy. Maggie Taylor wasn’t lying about him being in the vicinity of her house that day – we’ve got him on ANPR going into the area, but we can’t pick him up leaving. He seems to have disappeared into thin air.’

‘He’s a smart guy. You and I both know there are ways of fooling the cameras, or maybe he used false plates.’

‘Well that’s not all. It’s just been confirmed that Ben Coleman did leave for holiday before Hayley went missing.’

‘Bollocks,’ Tom muttered. ‘Another dead end.’

‘Not as dead as you think,’ Becky had responded. ‘We’re still waiting for confirmation that he got on the flight, so we’ll see. But here’s the thing: it seems Ben and Adam shared the same counsellor at university – well, to be precise they attended the same practice. I don’t know yet who their specific counsellors were. Julian Richmond mentioned that Adam had had counselling, so I thought I’d check it out. I got somebody to check with the university to find out which practices they recommended, and then when I’d tracked down Adam’s, I requested a list of other clients. If they had counsellors from the same practice, there’s a possibility that he and Ben met in the waiting room or something?’

Tom sat down opposite Becky, the tiredness suddenly slipping away.

‘Here we go again. Another coincidence. Did Ben’s name come up on the original enquiry? It’s not ringing any bells.’

‘No, and neither did Adam’s. I checked that too. They were never questioned, and there are no clear links between either of them and the first victims.’

‘Where’s Ben gone, and when did he book it?’

‘He only booked it a week ago, but he’s gone to Antigua.’

‘We really do need to know if he caught that flight.’

Becky pulled a face. ‘I know. That’s the one bit of information I haven’t been able to get yet,’ she admitted. ‘Sorry. We’re trying to get the airline to check the flight manifest. You’ll know the minute I hear.’

Ben Coleman knew Hayley, and Adam Mellor appeared to be following Maggie Taylor. And Adam Mellor had a somewhat tenuous link to Leo. These were no coincidences.

‘And one more thing, boss,’ Becky said as if reading Tom’s mind. ‘We’ve been in touch with Adam Mellor’s family, and nobody knows of anybody who has died.’

Tom was convinced that Adam had something to do with Leo’s disappearance. They had next to nothing to go on, but somebody had come to her with a huge bouquet of flowers, knowing that she’d had a disagreement with her boyfriend. The only person Julian had told seemed to be Adam, who suddenly wasn’t able to make it to the races, an event he had organised himself.

So where was he hiding her?

‘Becky, your Mark’s a bit of a railway geek, isn’t he?’

Becky rolled her eyes. ‘And then some,’ she said, although the corner of her mouth lifted in an affectionate smile.

‘We know Adam’s family were closely involved with transport in Manchester over the years. Think of the locations we’ve had for these murders – all vaguely transport related. Mark might only know about the railways, but can you ask if he can think of anywhere else that might be a good place to hide somebody. Pity he’s not an expert on canals as well.’

‘Oh, you’d be surprised,’ Becky said. ‘And he certainly knows plenty of other nerds who can fill in the gaps. I’m on it.’

There was one more thing that Tom wanted to do.

‘If Adam Mellor and Ben Coleman’s only connection is through a student counsellor, it might be worth having another look at that patient list, to see if any other names jump out.’

Becky picked up a sheet of A4 paper from her desk and passed it to Tom. She began collecting her things together, but Tom was only vaguely conscious of her actions.

‘Well bugger me,’ he said quietly.

Becky stopped what she was doing and the room was still for a moment. Tom didn’t speak.

‘What?’ Becky asked, clearly unable to restrain her curiosity.

‘Alexander.’

‘Who’s Alexander?’

‘Do you remember me telling you that my ex-boss Victor Elliott refused to listen when I said I thought Tamsin Grainger’s boyfriend was involved in some way? “It’s not that boy Alexander,” he used to say all the time; “he has an alibi,” which was true. But I knew there was something funny about the lad even though he couldn’t have killed either of the girls because he was definitely somewhere else on both occasions. Then I was taken off the case, and that was that.’

Tom looked at the sheet again.

‘And?’ Becky said, a note of exasperation creeping into her voice.

‘He’s here on the list. The same counselling service. Alexander. Right at the top.’

‘Alexander who?’

‘Alexander wasn’t his first name – old Victor called everybody by their surnames. His name was Michael. Michael Alexander.’

47

Duncan still wouldn’t look at Maggie. She was sure it was so that she wouldn’t spot the lies, and a wave of sadness washed over her. The fact was, she could no longer trust a word he said.

‘It all started when I went to university. And yes, you’re right. It was Manchester, not Leeds. I only lied a minute ago because it’s what you’ve always believed, and I didn’t want you to feel bad about making us move here.’

Maggie could feel her brow furrowing. That was a pathetic attempt at an excuse, and if he was trying to put the blame on her for his lies, it wasn’t going to work. And it hardly explained the original lie over ten years ago. She remembered the nights they had lain in bed, arms around each other while he told her how much he had loved university in Leeds and how difficult it had been to give it all up to go and look after his mother. The saddest thing of all was that those nights, nights that had meant everything to her, had been built on lies. But for now she had to let him speak.

‘I was studying chemical engineering, and I had a few demons to put to rest so I was seeing a counsellor.’

Maggie didn’t want to interrupt him, but she knew he had missed out a huge chunk, and she wanted the whole story.

‘What kind of demons – something from your childhood?’

Duncan raised his head and looked at her. He understood her so well, and he must have been able to see in her eyes that she knew something. He hesitated.

‘Duncan, I know your name. I know your birthday. And you
know
that I can find out anything I want to. So stop messing about, for God’s sake.’ She omitted to mention that she didn’t know his surname.

Duncan’s lips tightened, and she knew he wasn’t happy to be telling her this.

‘How do you know about my name?’ he asked.

‘You were in care. I don’t need to explain to you how I know. You need to tell me the truth. Why were you in care, and for how long.’

Duncan’s eyes narrowed and she could see he was wondering how much she knew.

‘I told you my mother was ill. She was ill for years. When she had to go into hospital, I had to go and stay with a lady called Pat. I didn’t mention it because nobody’s proud of being in care. There wasn’t anybody else, you see. Just me and Mum. That’s why it nearly killed me when she died. I was never with Pat for long – only a few weeks at a time – and I went home when Mum came out of hospital. I shouldn’t have gone to university really, but she insisted. She wanted me to have everything in life, so social services arranged for a nurse to call in every day while I was away. But I know I shouldn’t have gone.’

Maggie could feel his pain and had to stop herself from going to him. But she needed to pull him away from talk of his mother.

‘Let’s get back to the counsellor you mentioned,’ she said. ‘What happened there?’

‘The people at the university knew about my mother and the fact that I was having to live with a lot of uncertainty about the future, so I was allocated an adviser. He was good. He helped me to face things and helped me to meet – sort of – people in a similar position. Chat rooms on the Internet were just getting going, and he introduced me to one where people talked through their problems. It was anonymous, and it helped me. I was given a room in the halls of residence for fifty-two weeks of the year and treated as a kid coming out of care because basically I had nowhere to go when my mum was in hospital – no other family to turn to. I was a bit of a loner, so chatting to people online was a lifesaver. You really have no idea, Mags. Everybody has somebody. But for huge chunks of time I didn’t. I had nobody. I felt like a shadow – as if I had no substance of my own.’

The pain Maggie was feeling for the man sitting in front of her was real, but it was as if she were listening to a person she didn’t know well. A friend’s husband, perhaps. She felt detached.
How had all of this stayed hidden?

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