“Moon?” Siena said.
“Too cloudy tonight, kid. In fact, I think it’s going topour. But here’s the thing. Even if you can’t see it, the moon’s there somewhere. So I’m sure it will still hear you.”
“Good night, moon.”
“That’s the ticket.”
Katie tucked her into bed.
“I’ll be back up to see you in a minute. Sleep well in the meantime, Snail. I love you.”
“Love you too, Mommy.”
She put the washing on downstairs, then went up to check on Siena a few times until she was sure she was safely asleep. Then she made herself some dinner and sat at the kitchen table, eating slowly, the glass of wine beside her plate more appealing than the food. She was facing the window that looked out over the cottage’s small back garden. Her reflection stared back at her from the black world outside, chewing thoughtfully.
When she was done, she put the plate in the sink and then got both a second glass of wine and her laptop.
She wasn’t sure if she’d really expected Chris to phone her, even if he’d seen the message she’d left at the studio, but she had hoped he would. Perhaps she hadn’t exhaustedeveryavenue though. She opened up a browser on the laptop and did a cursory search for James Alderson. The name was so common that it was hard to find him on social media, but she stumbled on a couple of accounts that might have been him, and an Instagram account that certainly was. None of them were helpful. The Instagram was exclusively photographs of his artwork, and he seemed to have only a handful of followers there. The other accounts, assuming they even were his, didn’t appear to have been used much in years.
So what else?
Katie took a sip of wine, watching her reflection in the window do the same. She was at a loss for a moment. But then she remembered the sheet of paper she’d seen briefly in the drawer at Chris’s apartment.
What had the headline been?
THE DESPICABLE HISTORY OF JACK LOCK.
Probably nothing.
But she typedJack Lockinto the search bar anyway. When she pressedreturn, she was met by numerous links, and clicked on one at random. It took her to what appeared to be a biography of the man.
Okay then,Jack, she thought.
Let’s see how despicable you really were.
Seventeen
Jack Lock
INTRODUCTION
Jack John Lock (July 2, 1908–September 28, 1956) was a mid-twentieth-century serial killer who is also known by the name “the Angel Maker.” Following his arrest on March 6, 1956, Lock was charged with the murders of four children and his wife, Elaine. The remains of his younger victims were found buried in the garden of his manor house in Dree, while Elaine’s body was discovered inside.
Lock was found guilty of all charges and sentenced to death on May 8, 1956. While he was scheduled to be executed by hanging on September 28, 1956, he was found unresponsive in his cell early that morning and pronounced dead shortly afterward. His death was recorded as suicide. There was a great degree of speculation at the time as to how Lock had obtained the item discovered in his cell that facilitated his death. While Lock was convicted for his involvement in five murders, the precise number of his actual victims has never been ascertained.
Okay, Katie thought, taking a sip of wine.
Fairlydespicable, then.
Beside the introduction, there was the same photograph she remembered seeing at her brother’s apartment: a sepia print of a man from a different age, one that appeared to have been taken even further back than the dates referenced in the text. There was something of the Victorian aristocrat about him, with his neatly styled hair and enormous mustache. The smart black suit with the flower in the lapel. His expression was stern, but looking more closely, she thought there was also a slight glint of amusement in his eye.
I know something you don’t.
She scrolled down slowly, continuing to read.
EARLY LIFE
Jack Lock was born on July 2, 1908, to Mary Anne Lock (née Williamson) and Gregory John Lock. His parents were active members of an obscure religious chapter known as Deus Scripsit, which was based around a number of close-knit local family groups.