Urge to Kill (1) (19 page)

Only a yard or two to go. He could see the small tree he had chosen. Its branches were strong and drooped close to the ground over the water.

‘Yes. I love my Mother and she is very good, but I don’t like to leave her alone for too long.’

‘I think that is what I love about you, Clive.’

She turned her face up, bringing her hands to pull his head down towards hers. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was expecting a kiss. He looked down at her with revulsion, but then he heard footsteps coming along the path. A couple were coming towards them, going towards Stratford. He mustn’t let them see his face. He bent his head and let his mouth find hers. Her thin lips tasted of lipstick and mouthwash. Clive thought of the passionate kisses he longed to share with Ben. This was like kissing a toilet seat, and all his senses were screaming to pull away.

The couple were moving slowly. Anne was pressing her lips into his, and he could feel her tongue searching for an opening. He wouldn’t open his lips but pressed harder needing to prolong the agony, until the couple had passed so they wouldn’t see his face.

‘Leave something for breakfast, Mate.’

The couple laughed and moved on. He unclipped his lips from Anne and glared after them.

‘Ohhhh. I always knew you felt the same as me, Clive.’

It was time to show her just how he felt. He grabbed her roughly by the arm and almost dragged her the few steps to the tree, looking around to make sure no one else was coming, letting her think his passion had been awakened. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, eagerly awaiting an attack on her virtue.

‘I want to tell you how I feel about you, Anne.’ She gave that annoying giggle again and tried to do the Diana look, glancing up at him under her lashes. At that moment, he hated her but, fighting to hide his hatred, he managed a smile.

‘I…well it’s difficult to put into words. Come down here where we won’t be disturbed, and I’ll try to explain.’ He manoeuvred himself easily down the small slope towards the water while holding onto the branches of the tree.

‘Oh, Clive. I think you are trying to seduce me.’

This was something he couldn’t do, even if his life depended on it. Clive moved to the edge of the water and held out his hand to her.

The river was high, swollen with the early morning rain, and the current was swift and taking all with it. It suited his purpose exactly as, hopefully, it would carry dear Anne far away down river. Or should that be up? But it didn’t make a difference as long as she was gone forever. He forced himself to smile up at her.

‘I just want you to myself. Are you brave enough to come to me, dear Anne?’

Clive put as much warmth as he could into those last two words, and she smiled at him shyly, while reaching out to grasp his hand. Once he had her hand in his, he would pull hard and she would go straight past him into the river. If needed, he would hold her head down for a minute and that would be it. Goodbye Anne.

Her hand was in his. Clive grasped it firmly and pulled. Anne shot down the small slope towards the water, and he saw the look of panic on her face. Putting out her other hand, she managed to grasp his jacket almost taking them both into the water. He hung on tightly to the branch to save himself, and unwillingly, her, as she clung to him.

She found her footing and held tightly onto him with both hands.

‘I thought…thought for a moment I was going into the water. If you hadn’t been here.’

‘You are going for a swim, Anne.’

‘Don’t be silly. I can’t swim, especially not in that.’

‘That’s what I am banking on.’

‘Don’t, Clive. You’re scaring me.’

‘They say it doesn’t take long—less if you take a deep breath—let your lungs fill with water.’

‘You’re crazy. Let me go.’

He let her go and watched for an enjoyable moment as she began a frantic bid to escape up the small bank. With her heels she couldn’t get a grip. Clive laughed at her efforts and reached out to grasp the hem of her coat, pulling her back towards him, swinging her round to face him. A position a little while ago she had desired but now found terrifying as she struggled to break free.

‘Please, please. I’ll do whatever you want.’

‘Oh, I know you will, Anne, and you will do it most beautifully.’ He could see what she was expecting and how she was preparing herself for the inevitable rape. The power was all his. If he wished, he could strip her naked and savagely rape her right here. They say that most women have that fantasy anyway.

Should he force her to face that reality? Clive could be as violent and cruel as he liked, make her degrade herself. It would feel good to hurt her for the trouble she had caused him. Then the faint sound of the first interval bell reached them, restoring his self-control and making him remember he couldn’t afford to leave any evidence on her body. He should finish this now before the final bell prompted them to return to their seats. People would already be drifting back into the auditorium.

‘Clive. Please stop this, please.’

Clive turned around suddenly so that Anne had her back to the dark water. She knew immediately what he was going to do and struggled frantically to renew her grasp on his jacket. He hooked one foot around one of the branches to free both hands.

‘No.’

It was almost a scream, and he quickly clamped a hand over her mouth while working to ease her desperate hold. She kicked out violently but the kick went wild and merely caused her to slip so that both her feet ended up in the water.

She tried to scream again, shaking her head vigorously to escape his hand. He knew she was fighting for her life and this added to her strength. He hadn’t wanted to put a mark on her in case it led back to him but this couldn’t go on.

He released his hand from her mouth. She looked at him in surprise, maybe still wondering if this was a dream. Clive brought his hands to her neck.

‘Goodbye, Anne.’ He whispered it softly as he increased the pressure, knowing he had to control his instinct to finish the job. He needed the river to do that. Death by drowning—a tragic suicide.

Her eyes closed and he felt her muscles go slack. Time to slip her into the water. For a while, the bubbles rose from those thin lips. Leaves that were racing along in the water lodged themselves against her sharp little nose and made him want to laugh. As the bubbles ceased, he let go and watched as the river carried her away.

He glanced around to see if anything had been dropped. She still had her shoulder bag on when she went into the water and he hoped it would stay with her for a while so as not to alert the police of her place of embarkation.

Then he strode straight towards the road, easily jumping the small wall and getting out his mobile, dialled while retrieving the two glasses of wine as he made his way into the foyer.

It was nearly empty; the last few stragglers were being hurried into the auditorium by the staff. In the bright light, Clive realised his right hand sleeve was wet. Before anyone could notice, he tipped Anne’s glass over that arm just as one of the staff came towards him eager to hurry him into the auditorium. Seeing his predicament, the man diverted briefly to reach beneath the booking counter, coming up with a hand full of paper tissues, which he practically threw at Clive whilst hurrying him into the theatre just as the lights were lowering. The usher guided him to his seat, indicating that he turn his mobile phone off. Clive slipped into his seat. The job was done.

CHAPTER 26

T
he theatre was about fifteen miles away in Ruislip. Traffic was much lighter now, and Matt began to think about Eppie. He knew he was avoiding facing the cracks of reality that were creeping into what, a few days before, was the most beautiful and perfect thing in the world. He wondered if all married couples went through this. Was it just a settling in period? Or maybe he just wasn’t ready for marriage. Having jumped into marriage so joyfully in love, he just expected their life to follow the same pattern as his parents, with Dad the main breadwinner and Mum the fully supporting act. But maybe the old pattern was out of date and things had to be different now. He just wished there was a manual of some kind.

Matt and Fluff were led backstage by the scruffy security guard who gave his name as Trev. Trev was intrigued to know why they wished to speak to one of the actors, although he implied that it didn’t really surprise him. He also seemed to think that his position entitled him to know why they wished to speak to a member of the cast and tried for the ‘all mates’ together act in an effort to persuade them to give him information.

Fluff already had his number and calmly repeated their request to speak to Mr Mellor on a matter that was private. Trev gave in and shuffled his way along a dingy corridor until they came to a room smelling of stale sweat and deodorant and from which several male voices emanated.

Trev moved to place himself fully in the doorway before Matt or Fluff could enter. ‘Police Inspector for Anthony Mellor,’ he bellowed so that the whole theatre must have heard, causing Matt to think Trev might have trodden the boards himself at one time.

All the men in the room turned to look at Trev, who seemed to be so enjoying this dramatic moment that Matt had to shoulder him aside to enter. Behind him, he thought he heard a grunt of pain from Trev and guessed that Fluff had ‘accidentally’ stood on his foot.

While their attention was focused, Matt introduced himself and Fluff and held up his warrant card. Then, as if as one, all eyes turned to look at a skinny youth who seemed to be in the middle of placing a curly blonde wig over his own dull, lank hair. Matt moved forward and addressed the youth. ‘Mr Mellor?’

Mr Mellor looked back at his fellow actors reflected through the mirrors before taking a gulp, as he scraped his chair along the stone floor and stood turning to face Matt.

‘Yes,’ he replied.

‘We think you may have some vital information about a case we are currently working on, Mr Mellor. Are you able to spare us a few moments, Sir?’ Matt noted the relief on the actor’s face and guessed that he had a misplaced fear of the drug squad paying any attention to his petty misdemeanours. Once this fear had been laid to rest it was apparent that Mr Mellor enjoyed the idea that he might be important to the enquiry.

‘Of course, Officer, I shall be glad to help.’

Matt suspected that the actor might have felt that he was playing a role in one of those popular crime series on television.

Fluff led the way out of the dressing room and down to the end of the corridor, since there seemed nowhere else to go. Matt was sure that Trev would be lurking and listening somewhere, but they needed to carry on, so he nodded at Fluff to begin.

‘Mr Mellor, we understand that you helped out at a costume sale in Birmingham on the tenth and eleventh of July this year?’

The actor thought for a moment in an obvious effort to make believe that his social and work calendar was so full that he couldn’t quite remember.

‘That’s right. Just a little side job my agent came up with, still connected to the theatre of course. I wouldn’t consider anything else. Ended up I only did the Thursday. Then I was called to audition. This role was just made for me,’ he preened.

Before he could continue, Matt intervened, throwing in a dose of flattery for good measure. ‘As an actor, you must have a very good memory. Can you possibly remember anyone buying several little girl party dresses, ones which would fit adults?’

Mr Mellor thought for a long moment. ‘No, I don’t think so. Besides, what on earth would anyone do with such things?’

Matt sighed and tried again. ‘Like I said, Mr Mellor, this is really important and could possibly save someone’s life.’

The youth put his head on one side in a portrayal of a character thinking while both Matt and Fluff held their breath.

‘Wait a minute, wait a minute. There was a silly old bloke, not that he was old, but he was dressed that way, if you know what I mean?’

Fluff had her notebook out and nodded encouragingly. ‘Very astute. So do you think he was trying to make himself look old?’

‘Yes, that’s it,’ the youth replied, aiming to look wise.

Fluff wrote this down in her notebook before continuing. ‘So, how did he do that? Could you possibly describe what he was wearing?’

‘Well, he looked a bit like a country gentleman, all tweed cap and jacket. Like you would see in one of the old farces. The sort that gets locked in a cupboard or runs around without his trousers on. You know?’

Neither Matt nor Fluff knew, but they nodded anyway.

‘And this man bought several dresses? Did he say what he wanted them for?’ Fluff kept up the pressure.

Infuriatingly, they were treated to the thinking pose again, and they waited patiently, hardly daring to hope that this might be a real lead.

‘Yes. Although I wasn’t really interested, I remember now, he rambled on about some village show. Written by some local show off. You know the sort of ghastly thing they have on the village hall circuit. Whatever turns you on, I guess. I’m just thankful I’ve left that all behind. Well behind,’ he finished on a flourish indicating the peeling paintwork around him as if it were the Palladium.

‘Did he say which village?’ Fluff questioned.

‘No, or if he did I can’t remember. It was not one I recognized anyway.’

‘Was there anything about him, way of walking, hair, anything which would help you recognise this man again,’ Matt cut in.

‘No, I’m sorry, I don’t think so. Although, maybe if he were dressed in the same costume then I might have a chance.’

‘Did he have an accent at all, Mr Mellor?’ Fluff asked.

Matt inwardly congratulated her on choosing such an ideal question to ask the actor.

This time there was no hesitation. ‘Midlands. South of Birmingham so definitely not Brummie—more refined, almost posh. I did voice with Cecily at the RSC,’ he boasted. ‘So I do know my accents.’ The youth’s voice dropped slightly, and it was obvious he was remembering his expert tutoring.

‘How many costumes did he buy, Mr Mellor?’

Matt was aware that both he and Fluff were holding their breath as they waited for the answer. It represented how many young women might lose their lives.