(Here is chapter 10. As the story progress things will become more interesting. So I hope everyone is enjoying my story so far. I know it's dark but I hope my story has kept the readers interested so far. Let me know what you think.)
Chapter 10
"Hello, I'm DCI Helen Stewart and this is DI Dominic McAllister," She said. "Could we have a word with you?"
"All right, what's going on?" he demanded as soon as they were through the front door.
"I'm afraid we have some bad news," replied Helen. "I didn't think it was something you wanted to discuss over the phone."
Mrs. Blood gasped. "Is it Daniella?" she whispered. "Did something happen to her."
"Why would you think that, Mrs. Blood?" Dominic asked.
"Because," she replied, darting a look at her husband, "she didn't call past Monday when we came back from our holiday vacation. She always calls us so it was strange that we didn't hear from her, but we assumed she was busy with school work. She attends a Private College and lives on campus so we only see her over the weekends."
"Do you know where she was, Mrs. Blood?" Helen asked. Judging by the Blood's house, they were rich.
"She usually locks herself in her dorm studying or spends time with her girlfriend," Mr. Fisher answered for his wife. "Of course, she doesn't always tells us everything."
"Girlfriend?" Dominic replied quickly.
"Yes, her girlfriend, well don't stand so shocked." he said. "Enough about the questions. Please tell us what this is all about?"
Helen cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry," she said gently. "There's no easy way to say this…your daughter was found dead a week ago."
Mrs. Blood began to wail, an eerie sort of sound that rose to an unearthly shriek as she stared first at her husband then at the Dominic, and finally at Helen. "Daniella's…dead? I think you're mistaken. She could not be?"
Mr. Blood assisted his wife into the nearest chair. "What do you mean she's dead? How?" He then demanded, turning on Helen, his face ashen. "How do you know she's dead?"
"I'm sorry. I know this must be a shock, but her body was identified yesterday," Helen told him.
"Found?" He repeated, not comprehending. "What are you talking about?"
"Her body was discovered down by the river, off a dirt road." Dominic said carefully. "She was raped and strangled to death."
"Of course, we don't know all the circumstances yet," Helen, added. "We're still going through all the evidence."
"Strangled?" Mr. Blood said slowly, as though it was a word with which he was unfamiliar. with He stared at Helen. "You mean it wasn't some kind of accident? You're saying that someone actually…murdered our daughter? Why would anybody want to hurt our baby?"
Helen nodded in agreement. "I'm afraid so, Mr. Blood" she murmured. "I'm really sorry that this had to happen, but these are the facts."
The starch seemed to drain from Mr. Fisher's body. He clutched at the high back of his wife's chair to keep himself upright. "How could this have happened?" he managed to cry. "Why?"
"We don't know yet," Dominic said with a leaden sigh.
"But we intend to find out," Helen declared. "I am sorry to ask this, but did your daughter know someone by the name, Shaz Wiley?"
"Why yes of course," Mr. Blood stated. "That's her girlfriend. They attend the same school. Does she have something to do with this?"
Dominic and Helen looked at each other before she turned her attention to Mr. Blood. "I'm sorry, but Shaz Wiley body was found the same area as your daughter." Helen knew that they were killed the same time which meant there had to be two killers involved.
Mrs. Blood fell to the ground crying widely as her husband went over to comfort her. "We're they killed together?"
"Sorry, I am not liberated to say. But I will need you to sign some papers." Was all that Helen could mustered. She knew it was a parent's worst nightmare finding out your loved one was murdered.
"What kind of papers?"
"For the autopsy." Helen replied trying not to sound insensitive.
He gave Helen an agonised look. "Autopsy? He chafed. "I don't want an autopsy performed on her. I don't want some stranger cutting up my little girl. This is immoral." He glanced down at his wife. "Are you trying to kill us in the process?"
"I'm afraid it's necessary, sir," Helen told him. "An autopsy is essential to our investigation. Whether we like it or not, a crime has been committed. In order to find out who did this awful thing, we have to be allowed to collect every possible piece of evidence."
"I can appreciate your position, Miss Stewart," he replied, "but I refuse to sign any papers that will disfigure my daughter."
"Well, the thing is, you see, we don't really need your permission," Helen said kindly but firmly. "Signing the papers is just a formality. In homicide cases, an autopsy is mandatory."
Mr. Blood face froze in anguish. "Then go ahead and do whatever it is you have to do," came the abrupt reply. "Obviously, I don't have any say. It's funny how the killer gets more rights than victims." Helen could sympathize with Mr. Blood. She couldn't image how it would feel to have someone knock on your door and completely change your world.
"I want to see my baby," Mrs. Blood wailed suddenly. "Take me to see my baby. Maybe it isn't
Daniella. Maybe you've made a horrible mistake."
Helen felt shaken. This part of the job was the one thing she hated. Having to tell someone that a loved one was dead, worst murdered. She sighed heavily. "I understand how shaken you are, but I promise we are going to do everything in our power to find the killer."
"When can we see the body," Mr. Blood spoke calmly, giving in to the realisation that his daughter was murdered.
"If you like I can arrange for someone to take you there now." Helen said, trying to bring some small comfort. "I have to warn you though, her body took an awful beating and you might not even recognise her."
Mr. Blood sighed heavily then said, "Thank you for your concern. Will you please keep us inform? Promise me that you and your department will do everything in your power to bring justice to our beloved daughter."
Helen nodded. "Of course, sir. I promise you we will catch the killer and bring you closure. I will keep you updated and you can call me anytime." Helen said, handing him her business card.
"Thank you," Mr. Blood said holding onto his wife and wondering how he was going to go on with his life.
Helen watched the grieving parents of Daniella Blood and wondered how she would have reacted if it was her daughter. She felt sick and disgusted that she couldn't stop the killings. How do you explain to someone that a serial killer is out there hunting, preying and murdering innocent girls? The sad reality hit her like a ton of bricks. Crime and murder were part of her daily routine. She lost count of the bodies she had encountered, probed, and dissected. It was all too familiar. This was the part of her job that she detested.
Helen willed herself to relax into the distant and began thinking about how horrible it must have been to die like that. She wondered if the dead girls knew they were going to die before they were violated. Did they know who killed them? Did they cry out for help? She wondered what caused their deaths. How long did they suffer? Did someone betray them? Someone they loved? Someone they trusted? These were all questions Helen couldn't answer. Questions that lingered in her mind.
"I've looked through the files. I can't find a connection." Dominic said.
"Well then go look over them again. Right I want every part thoroughly investigated. No stones unturned. Go back over the statements. Something connects these killings. Find out if these girls were lesbians. We know Daniella Blood and Shaz Wiley were was gay and possibly Roisin. And while you're at it, find out if these girls all went to a Private College. Check to see if they all come from money. There's a chain of evidence that will lead us to them. We just need the first link." Helen said, clearly frustrated at the lack of evidence. She hoped that the crime lab would get back to her soon. She needed answers.
"I know exactly the type of person who's doing this. The organised killer. This type of killer is the most difficult to identify and capture. They are usually highly intelligent and well organised to the point of being meticulous. Every detail of the crime is planned out, and the killer takes every precaution to make sure they leave no incriminating evidence behind. This killer believes that no one is listening to him. The murders are his way to say to the police that he is in charge and he will decide who lives or dies." Nikki said.
"Go on, Nikki." Helen said curious.
"White male, early to mid-thirty. He'd be a product of discipline and most likely abused by his father. Father figure could have been an authority type. His profession suggest he works in a prison system or in law enforcement. He would likely suffer from obsessive disorder, neat, gem freak. He'd be convinced in his own views of right and wrong. He believes he is an arbitrator of justice." Nikki said. "These young girls represent sexual abnormalities that he believes is immoral. A sense of cleansing the world from impurity."
"How can you be so certain," Jim sneered at Nikki. "What, it takes a dyke to know a dyke?" Jim couldn't believe that Nikki was working with them. He knew that she didn't like him dating Karen. What pissed him off more was her brush off with him. She was a babe, and yet he couldn't believe someone as gorgeous as Nikki was a lesbian.
"Well maybe I don't like your plumbing, Jim. And unlike you, I have the background for this kind of behaviours. But if you have a better description of our killer, than by all means, do tell us what you think you stupid twit." Nikki spat. What a sodding git she thought.
Jim just shrugged his shoulders. "I was just asking. You don't need to be such a cunt."
"Well if you weren't so busy putting your snout into others peoples business, then maybe you would get things done, Jim." Helen said, mocking Jim lack of knowledge. "Why don't you just piss off and do something worth value?"
"Look, our killer has a problem with rejection from women. Somewhere along the line he was rejected by someone he loved and now he kills these girls as a way to justify his killings." Nikki stated. "I don't believe he acts alone." She said still annoyed with Jim. "Our killer was probably humiliated often – and when his father meted out discipline, it was unfair, unpredictable, destructive and wicked. Even when a child is merely neglected, huge developmental failures can occur. The child will become desensitized; he will begin to believe that this emotionally barren world that surrounds it is something normal – and so he will grow up devoid of empathy for others."
"Helen, Crystal is on line two," Dominic said handing her the phone.
Helen hoped that Crystal had good news for them. "You're on the speaker, Crystal. Give us a quick overview of your findings," She said, all business like.
"Well hello to you too Helen. I think it is best you come over. You're going to want to see this."
Okay, I'll be there in an hour, bye." Helen said. "Right, Jim, I need you go over to Mason's house. I told him I'd be sending an officer to watch over him until I get there. Nikki we should talk to Mason tonight." Nikki nodded in agreement.
"What! When are we babysitting killers?" Jim said, annoyed.
Helen rolled her eyes. "Listen, I don't care what you think. He's been complaining about being harassed, so all I need you to do is to watch him until I give you further instructions. Can you handle a simple thing like that?"
Jim didn't like Helen having superiority over him, and he even hated it more that she happened to be a woman who spurred his advances. He didn't like it but he had no choice. "Fine, ma'am." Jim said shuffling papers. "Jesus, I can hardly read the notes I just took," he grumbled.
Useless twit she thought. Why did he insist on being here? He was no use to her, yet he made no attempt to get out of her way. He was all too familiar with knowing that one slip on her part and he would be the lead investigator. "Dominic, go over the files again, take Lorna Rose with you. Let me know what you find." Helen said. "Nikki and I will be heading to the crime lab."
(At the crime lab)
"What's even more interesting is that all the girls have the same injury patterns. When I examined their skulls I found the victims had depressed skull fractures of the right frontal and right parietal areas. For the medical terminology challenged, that's the right front and side of the head."
Nikki looked up at Crystal Gordon with a knowing look. "You got it Nikki. Our killer, is probably a lefty." Crystal said.
"Obviously, all victims were brutally raped and sodomised, so it might suggest a pattern, although latest victim did not suffer the same outcome." Crystal Gordon said.
"Nikki believes that the latest victim was probably someone he knew or reminded him of someone he loved, which would explain why he didn't viciously cut her up and leave her naked and exposed to rot in the elements."
Crystal nodded her head. "She was raped and sodomised, but," Crystal said. "It was done after she was dead. And the wounds were also done after she was dead."
"Rape Post-Mortem. Christ, Nikki. You were so spot on about that one?" Helen said smiling at Nikki.
"It was really just a feeling I had." Nikki said, downplaying her assessment. She didn't understand why she knew it except that she felt like she understood the killer's motives. She allowed her mind to think like a killer.
"The skull fractures were very depressed. The lab concluded that the victims did not die from the fractures. Most likely all tortured before strangulation. The injuries on victim #5 and #6 were all blunt and brutal. No penetrating wounds. They were hit with something very hard: crowbar, bat, perhaps a heavy piece of lumber wood. According to the bruising around the wounds and the state of the fractures, they probably would have died hours after the hit if not for them being strangled to death. Looks like victim #4 was moved. She was on her back for a while and then dumped on her stomach, but the fracture patterns look very much the same."
"So both victim #5 and #6 were especially brutalised. Their killings were overkill as if he had something against them because they were brutally sodomised with a sharp object. The sick bastard wanted to optimise their suffering." Helen said looking at Crystal and remembering Daniella Blood and Shaz Wiley. She knew they suffered beyond comprehension. She wondered if their killings had anything to do with them being gay. "Is our latest victim fingerprints out yet?" Helen asked.
"Yes, but don't be surprised if that turns up nothing. How many college girls do you know who've been fingerprinted? I'll have the office fax you a summary of this as soon as it's transcribed."
"Thank you Crystal. You've been a blessing." Helen said.
"Wait, there's more and you're going to like this. After close examination of the latest victim, I found something lodge down her throat. When I removed it I realised it was a piece of parchment."
Nikki and Helen looked at each other. "So, the killer is sending us a message. Trying to tell us something." Helen said out-loud.
"On a hunch, I decided to re-examine victims #5 and #6 too. Too my horror they too had parchment lodge down their throat. You need to see this." Crystal showed Helen and Nikki the pieces of parchment with a magnifying glass. Both women looked at each other in disbelief. Helen felt her blood turn cold and Nikki sighed. She didn't want to be right, but she knew that she was on the right path. She was glad she came on board but frightened about the discovery.
"The first is from our latest victim." Crystal said. 'Revelation 21:4: He will wipe tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the order of things has passed away…'
"These two are from victim #5 and #6." Crystal pointed.
Helen and Nikki carefully read once more. 'Note one: 'Leviticus 20:13: If man lies with man as one lies with woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own hands…'
Note two: Corinthians 6:9-10: 'Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders…'
"This is shite Nikki," Helen said breathing heavy. "The press is going to have a field day." Nikki gave her a knowing look. "Could this day get any better?" Helen gathered the evidence and she knew she needed to brief the team about the latest findings. She would wait until she got her bearings.
"What do you think Nikki," Helen said, driving out of the parking lot.
"Our killer has a deep resentment towards women, especially women whom he perceive homosexual or perverse. I believe this is our connection." Nikki stated.
"Well, judging by those parchments he shoved so lovingly down their throats, I'd say he's the antagonistic killer." Helen spat. How she wished for quieter days.
"Well, from what's been gathered, the killings were done by the same person or persons. Obviously the first two bodies found were probably done in the same time span then our killer went on a short hiatus. Why that is, obviously is something we need to find out?"
"But why the killing now? Are those killings connected to the rape and murder of the three college girls six years prior?" Helen brow showed worry. "But they don't seem to be connected on the surface."
"I really don't believe they are separate. I believe our killer or killers were in the same college or used to go to the same college. I think our killer started off raping, then probably accidentally killed the first girl, then it led to the other killings." Nikki said looking at Helen. She looked beautiful with a puzzlement look on her face.
"Why are you looking at me strangely? Do I have something on my face?" Helen said, embarrassed.
"No," Nikki said, turning away. "I was just looking at your expression. You seemed stump." Nikki lied. She couldn't tell Helen that she was thinking of something entirely different. Yes, she found Helen Stewart attractive, but she was engaged and straight she kept telling herself.
"Oh," Helen said, surprised. It wasn't exactly what she expected to hear. In truth, she really didn't know what to make of her growing feelings for Nikki. It was really all just friendly. Nikki was different. It wasn't something she could explain.
"I believe the killings progressed that is why they have changed slightly the method of killing. It is similar yet different. These recent killings have a purpose. Our killers are trying to tell us something. They need to feel as if they have the power. That is why the bodies are turning up. They want those bodies to be found. They want us to play a cat and mouse game with them." Nikki explained.
"I can't believe we never connected these killings." Helen felt frustrated. Then Helen's mobile went off. "Bloody hell. Christ Jim can't you do anything right. I'm on my way." From the look that Helen gave Nikki, she knew it wasn't a good sign.
Helen gave Jim the 'don't mess with me' look. "Where's the body?"
"Upstairs bedroom." Jim replied coldly.
"Who found him first?" Helen said disgusted. She did not know how much more she could take.
"I did," Jim said, again with the snide tone.
Helen looked at Jim with an angry expression, leaning in, crowding him. "Jim, didn't I give you a direct order earlier specifying that I wanted you to watch him closely. Never leave his sight."
"Yes Helen, I know, but I just left his side for a minute," he said, visibly resisting the urge to step back.
"A minute you say, well then can you explain why there is a dead body upstairs since you were supposed to be on guard?" Helen said. "Bloody hell Jim. Do you know what this means?"
"Don't point fingers at me," Jim said, releasing that Helen wasn't going to let him off easy. "How did I know he was going to kill himself?"
"If you used that gob of yours less often then maybe you wouldn't find yourself in these situations." Helen frowned, suspicious of Jim. She took another small step into Jim's space. "Jim, are you always such a sodding prick or is today special? How many fuck-ups can you produce in a day?"
Jim's face coloured, his features growing taut. This bitch was making a fool of him in front of the others. "What is the big deal? He's a killer and probably got what he deserved. He did us a favour by offing himself."
"Keep your comments to yourself, if you don't want to find yourself in an embarrassing situation," Helen ordered. "Mason Waters was a human being and don't be so quick to judgement, so show some respect for the dead."
Jim pressed his lips together and took a step back, eyes cold. "Yes ma'am."
"I don't want anyone else coming in here unless they've got orders from me. Got that, Jim?" Helen spat angrily.
"Yes of course," Jim said, sneering.
"I want the whereabouts of every officer, and the times they walked in the door and walked back out. Can you manage that or do you need a six year old to hold your hand?" Helen said. She was enjoying making Jim sweat. Nikki laughed inwardly. She liked Helen taking control. Of course, they had bigger issues. Like who killed Mason and why?
"I think I can handle that, Helen," Jim said before walking away. He knew he cocked up.
"I don't think Jim likes when you gives orders to him," Nikki whispered contentedly as they left Jim at the door and headed toward the steps.
"Yeah, well sod him" Helen glanced up at a smiling Nikki. "I don't suppose Mason killed himself." She said.
"Murder is what I had in mind," Nikki conceded. Helen knew that something wasn't right. She knew Mason suffered from mental problems and she thought Nikki was getting through to him. "Now he's dead and so are the answers we seek." A sense of dread built in her chest as they climbed the stairs.
"Yeah I suspect the same thing, Nikki." Helen said, sighing heavily. Just when we were so close. "The killer is always two steps ahead."
"I've got a bad feeling about this, Helen," Nikki muttered. "I believe the killer knew we were close to cracking Mason armour." Nikki looked over at Helen who looked disgusted. "Or maybe I'm having a heart attack. That will be my luck. I finally quit smoking and I have a heart attack."
Helen smiled. "Well, don't die at the scene," She quipped. "The paperwork would be a big pain in the arse."
"You're full of sympathy." Nikki pouted as she attempt to slap Helen's arm.
"Glad to see you've finally come to your senses and quit smoking." Helen smiled.
Nikki grinned. "Yeah, I got tired of the hacking and coughing."
Mason body hung from a rope just a few feet beyond the four-posted bed. The rope looped over a ceiling fan. The bed was neatly made, hadn't been slept in or even sat upon. Helen noted these things in the back of her mind, her concentration on the victim.
Mason face was discoloured, distorted, purple and bloated, the mouth frozen in horror. The eyes were half-open and cloudy. He had to have been there a while. The body was nude. His arms hung at his sides, hands curled into fists held slightly forward of the hips. The feet, no more than a few inches off the floor, were swollen and deep purple as well. Helen squatted down, took hold of an ankle. The leg was cold to the touch. An oak-framed full-length mirror was propped against the wall some ten feet in front of the corpse. The body was reflected fully, the reflection distorted by the angle of the mirror. The word 'Sorry, I killed them.' had been written on the glass with something dark.
"Looks like he finally met his match," one of the officers said.
Helen looked at the two officers standing five feet away, smirking at the mirror. "Listen here," She snapped. "Why are you hovering around at my death scene when you know shite? Trampling all over the place making snide comments."
"Ma'am it's your classical suicide," the taller one said, as if that mattered. "He even left a note."
Helen felt her face flush. "Don't tell me what you think. You don't know shite. Maybe when you're not so wet behind the ears you'll have a right to an opinion. Get the hell out of my space. Go downstairs and secure the zone. I don't want anyone coming closer than the street. And keep your big gob shut," Helen said, pointing to the reflection in the mirror, "You got me?"
The officers glanced at each other sullenly then headed for the stairs. "A killer rats off himself," the taller one said under his breath. "So what's the crime? Looks like a service to everyone if you ask me."
Helen stared at Mason body. She could see Nikki snooping around making notes of every detail, sketching the room, the placement of the furniture and of anything that might be deemed significant. She stared at the room itself, then, slowly moved in on the body, photographing it from all angels. Each flash burned an imprint on her memory. 'Sorry, I killed them'. Yes, it was. Had Mason been sorry? Or had someone else scrawled the words on the mirror?
"I never understand people who get naked to commit suicide," Dominic said looking over at Mason's body.
"It's symbolic, shedding their earthly skin." Nikki injected.
"Nobody is finding me naked." Dominic replied, then turning towards the door.
"Maybe he didn't commit suicide," Nikki said looking over at Dominic who was stood at the doorway and giving her a puzzled look.
"You think someone could have done this to him? Or forced him to do it? Murder by hanging is rare?" Dominic said.
"What's with the mirror?" Helen asked, though it wasn't a question to Nikki.
Nikki studied the naked corpse for a moment then looked at the mirror, catching a slice of her own reflection with that of Mason. She thought she was getting through to him, now the questions that needed answering lie in the dead and buried deep within him: coincidence or planned death? Either way, Mason was dead and so was any hope connecting the college murders to the current murders.
"But why leave a message?" Nikki wondered aloud. "Sorry suggest suicide. Why would he write that if he was offing himself? It seems to straight forward. Something doesn't add up. Mason did not kill himself, that's a given."
Helen moved her hand to the top of her throbbing head and winced. "You know, some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed."
"Yeah, well...here's your reason for living," Dominic said, nodding to the body.
"It doesn't seem much of the way of comfort. I always figure a bad day living beats any day dead." Nikki said.
"Sod me then," Helen frowned.
Nikki squatted down in front of the mirror to examine the letters more closely. She looked at Helen's reflection. Helen looked tired. Nikki rose slowly, and touched her arm, looking up at her with earnest brown eyes. Helen felt a warm sensation. It felt nice. Both women stood there for a few seconds before Nikki let go. "I'm sorry Mason. I let you down. I should've done more."
Helen stared at Nikki for a moment, stared at her hand briefly considered taking hold of it. Just for the comfort with another human. No, she wanted to feel that warm sensation she felt when Nikki touched her arm. She knew she was out of her mind, but something inside controlled her. But the wiser Helen got the better of herself before, she whispered, "It's not your fault Nikki. No one saw this coming. If Mason was murdered we will find out, I can promise you that." Nikki smiled weakly. She needed to unwind, anything to get her mind off of Mason and Helen.
Suicide, accident, tragedy! The word murder seem to hold merit, yet most are willing to write it off as such. After all, Mason was better off dead, wasn't he? Helen was sure that most of the officers in here thought that. Is it really murder if dictated by necessity, if accompanied by remorse? Sorry...
There is a sense of unease from knowing other people are now aware, even though they don't suspect. As if strangers are invading what should have remained private. If Mason was killed then the intimacy of death had been shared by two people, not one. The aftermath would be a public event, a spectacle. That somehow cheapened the experience.
As Helen looked at the photograph of Mason, the last spark of life dying in the half-opened eyes. The expression seems to take on an accusatory quality. Sorry...
The photograph, cradled in one hand, is raised to the lips, the image of the death mask kissed. Sorry...
But even as the apology is offered, wound there be any justice? Would one life change anything? Helen didn't believe so. Yet the word 'Sorry,' remained. Something oddly about that word that has been used a thousand times before. Helen knew it held the key. She pulled out her cell phone, and gave the examiner on the scene the location of the body. As she put back her phone, she looked out the window at the star filled sky. The sky was made up of the many colours that would soon blend together to make the deep darkness of night. There was very little of a moon tonight, but she did not need the moon's light to see.
Looking up at his body, she was surprised to find that she felt no hatred for this supposed killer. It was done. It is stunning how quickly it happened. How little time it takes to go from trouble to tragedy. Mere seconds without air and the brain begins to shut down. No time to struggle. No time to panic even. Like a boa constrictor choking the life from its prey, the noose tightens and tightens. It makes no difference what thoughts explode in the brain. The commands don't make it down the neutral pathways to the muscles of the arms. Coordination is gone. The seconds stretch as the death dance continues. A minute, two, four! The most acute, exquisite split second of life: the final heartbeat before death. And then it is over. The flash explodes in a brilliant burst of white light and the scene is frozen in time. Helen tried not to think about it as she focussed on Mason. If Mason's death was truly a suicide, then why leave a note on the mirror and a suicide letter? Was the killer trying to erase Mason's memory or to protect himself? What knowledge did Mason possess? Helen hated not knowing the answers to her mounting questions. But she knew that the killer was clever. He was playing games with them. What was his angle? Why was he always two steps ahead?
"Well, look what we found," one of the hooligans said. He smiled. "Thought you got away from us old lady. Don't have anyone around to protect you now."
"Please, don't hurt me. I haven't anything of value," Monica said, before a mouth covered hers.
"You're not getting away this time," the other hooligan said, grinning.
Monica knew that she was in trouble. She did not know what these hooligans wanted but she recognised the cold demeanour that were coming from their eyes. She closed her eyes wishing the young woman named Nikki Wade would come to her rescue but she knew this was not to be. She sensed danger ahead and knew that today would be different. No amount of prayers were going to help her as she pleaded for penitence.