Page 13 of The Serial Killer's Sister
‘Doesn’t explain how they got hold of the CCTV footage so easily.’ I verbalise my thought.
‘Leave that to me.’ DI Walker gets up. ‘I’ll get on to digital forensics, see if they can help.’
‘Will they be able to trace who posted it?’ I watch asDI Walker’s mouth turns down at the corners while he seems to think about his answer, and I bite the nail of my index finger because his pause is too long.
‘Given that he knew how to hack it in the first place, I’d be surprised if they could. He’d likely know how to make himself untraceable. But you never know.’
My shoulders slump. ‘What should I do?’
‘Figure out what this clue means.’ DI Walker takes a photo of the riddle and then folds the paper up and places it in an evidence bag. ‘The solution will lead us to whatever he wants you to find. As much as I loathe games, I can’t see another way. You have to play, Anna. It’s our only chance to find him. Stop him.’
‘If he’s been here, though, and evaded capture by you and your team … what makes you think following this clue will get you any closer to catching him?’
‘Now he’s left the envelope, he’ll know we’re onto him. It’s very unlikely he’ll turn up here again. No. My bet is that he’ll be close to wherever that clue takes us. He’ll be watching.’ DI Walker takes off the gloves and stuffs them into his jacket pocket.
‘That makes sense.’ Bile burns in my stomach. The thought of Henry watching me this morning, and now waiting for me at the location he’s set, is terrifying. What does he want?
‘The other date is key. Have you had any further thoughts about May the thirteenth?’
‘I’ve racked my brains, but no.’ I shake my head. ‘I could dig out my old diaries …’
‘That’s a great idea, yes. It’s clearly a significant event and it would seem highly plausible that it should be a date from his past. Maybe from your childhood prior tothe children’s home, or an event that marked a change for him at Finley Hall.’
‘I’ll get on it.’
‘Thanks.’ DI Walker gives me a nod, then asks for my mobile number.
He takes his phone and taps a few buttons. ‘Right. I’ve sent you the image of the riddle. Don’t show anyone.’ He doesn’t wait for a response. Turning away, he stalks towards the front door. ‘Anna,’ he says as he’s on the threshold, ‘make sure to call me the second you think of something. Anything. I can’t reiterate just how crucial it is we figure this out as soon as possible.’
‘Yes, DI Walker. I fully understand the urgency.’
I watch the detective fold himself into his car and keep my eyes on the Audi as it goes down the narrow road and disappears around the corner. Then, after a wary glance around to check if anyone is there, I rush back inside and lock the door.
I don’t have any diaries from my time at Finley Hall. I burned them all.
But I don’t need them to work out the clue. The location was obvious to me the moment the riddle mentioned the words ‘middle for diddle’. Ross is due back any minute, so I won’t be able to leave right away. With my mobile in my hand, Google Maps open, I pace from the lounge to the kitchen and back, staring down at the screen as I try to formulate some kind of plan. It says it’s a three-hour drive from here; I’ll set off early in the morning, before Ross gets up. That way I can avoid any awkward questions. With luck, it’ll also mean I can avoid detection from the police, because I can’t afford for DI Walker to be with me when I find what Henry’s left for me.
Chapter 8
My lips are sealed and a promise is true:
I won’t break my word; my word to you.
FEBRUARY
Two years ago
He’d moved her with ease to begin with, her limp body sliding off the bed onto the floor, then he’d pulled her across the carpet like a huge slithering snake, through the door to the landing. But then the adrenaline waned, and his muscles ached with the exertion; he’d had to stop and rest.
Now, sweat dripped into his eyes. He swiped the back of his hand roughly across his forehead, muttering under his breath.
‘Fucking bitch.’
After a few moments’ break, he grabbed hold of her again, dragging her by her arms to the stairs, his breath heaving with the effort. Backwards, he took a few stepsdown, then yanked on her arms so that she followed. While her head remained off the ground, her legs banged against the wooden treads as he descended them. At the bottom he let her go, her body collapsing in a heap, and he leaned up against the wall to recover his breath. He was fit, but he hadn’t anticipated the true strength he’d need to carry this out.
It would get easier, he told himself.
By the time he was ready forher, he’d be so well-practised he’d be able to do it in his sleep.
