Page 5 of Pure Killers

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We find Lee-Anne's home in a street of narrow row housing on the west side of Downtown, south of Crennick plus a couple of suburbs removed and therefore, by Tregam standards, middle-class. Rosie was right- she appears to be clean now, a singlemother who eyes us with surprise and some trepidation when Dirk and I show up on her doorstep but invites us in anyway.

With her two sons running around the kitchen bearing toy guns, we face Lee-Anne across her coffee table and tell her our findings. It's not every day you need to tell someone they were getting eyed off by a killer, and I feel a particular guilt as I explain everything to her. Probably it would be better for her sake to never know that Strangler was eyeing her off. But the hard truth is that we need to exhaust whatever leads we find.

“Oh, my god…" She gulps, staring at the top of the coffee table, a crumb or two left over from breakfast there. Lifting back up, she asks, “I… are you sure?"

"We found your hair on his body. Likely it stuck to his clothes when he was mapping your schedule," I tell her.

"Jesus," she breathes, glancing back over her shoulder, but the children are none the wiser to the topic of conversation. One of them is hiding under the front of the kitchen counter, the other one stalking around the back. Lee-Anne takes a long breath. “So, the Needler, he saved me?”

"It’s a bit early to say that…”

“Oh, my god…” Still in shock, she shakes her head. "I can't believe it. I never even knew someone was watching me." She’s pushes her hands between her knees, shoulders small. It's not hard to imagine that she’s thinking of the rapes, or of the strangling’s. Seeing herself in those other women.

Dirk says softly, “We understand this must be a shock for you.”

"If you like, we can assign a security detail to your house,” I start to offer.

“I don’t want to scare my sons.” Her eyes widen. “Why would I need that?”

"You don't,” Dirk puts in quickly. Lee-Anne stares at him for an extra beat, some of the fear leaving her face. There is often this moment with him and the women we're interviewing whenthey seem to suddenly notice his good looks. Dirk is that kind of attractive, not the type that hits you the moment that you look at him, but during a shift in expression, sort of when you least expect it.

"That was the Strangler you found? He's definitely dead?" she presses.

“It's him. He matches the DNA found at the other… uh, crime scenes,” Dirk assures.

“But,” I put in, “we don’t know the motives of the Needler.”

Cutting back to me, Lee-Anne pulls a face. "The Needler? But he only hunts the killers. Why would he have any interest in me?"

“Well, we don't know that he only does that. If he knew you were a target, or…” I trail off, realising this is probably not what she wants to hear.

Dirk smiles at her, then fixes it on his face while he turns in my direction. “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

“Sure!” I say, trying not to make it sound like a question.

To Lee-Anne, Dirk says, "Could you write out your usual schedule, please? Where's, rough when’s, that kind of thing. If we could see where you were being followed, it might help us track the Needler too."

Back out on the stone landing, Dirk turns to me. “Are you trying to freak the poor woman out more?”

I spread my hands. “What? I’m just telling her the truth.”

“We have no reason to believe the Needler has any interest in the potential victims of his targets.”

“Well, he lines the killing rooms with pictures of the past victims, so it could stand to reason that he does.”

“You and I both know there could be several other motives for that. Not least as part of his justice… or punishment, or whatever way you want to look at it.”

"Ugh," I wave a hand, turning away from him to look out over the quiet street instead. “Don’t tell me you’re getting caught up in the praise too.”

“Of course not! I’m just…” Dirk sighs, running a hand back through his hair. Jaw working, he asks me, “Should you be on this case, El? Think professionally.”

“Of course I should!” I say reflexively. I've been on it ever since I came back last year. The idea of not… of doing something else... I recoil from it.

Dirk spreads his hands. “Obviously, you have bias. We can't deny that.”

“I’m staying more professional than most people on this case,” I say pointedly.

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