Page 3 of The Serial Killer's Sister
‘Good morning, Mrs Price. I’m Detective Inspector Walker from the Devon and Cornwall Major Crime Investigation Team.’ He stoops to clear the low beam of the ceiling then stretches one arm out, presenting an open leather wallet containing his ID badge. I stare at it before taking his other proffered hand and shaking it; it’s large, square, and mine is completely enclosed in its firm grip. My heart gives a little jolt, as if warning me of what’s to come.
‘Is there something wrong?’ I say, my pulse quickening. He’s looking at me specifically, not Ross. But, I deduce, if someone was hurt or had died, there’d be two of them. That’s how it works on the telly. And besides, I’m no one’s next of kin other than Ross’s, and he’s safe. Then my legs tingle.
Iamsomeone else’s though, aren’t I.
‘Can we take a seat, Mrs Price?’ DI Walker’s tone is authoritative, his words not really posed as a question, more of an instruction.
Ross jerks into action, he too having been momentarily stunned by the unexpected arrival of a detective.
‘Is your colleague coming in?’ Ross asks, and my heart tumbles in my chest. If there are two of them, then my theory doesn’t hold. I look out into the hallway, but I don’t see anyone else hovering. Then, spotting a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye, I glance out of the kitchen window, at the people dressed in black and yellow walking past. It takes me a few moments, as if time has slowed, to register that they’re police. Once this fact settles in my brain, a mix of intrigue and suspicion flares.
‘No,’ DI Walker says. ‘She’s conducting door-to-door enquiries with the rest of the team.’
‘Right, sure.’ Ross makes a face at me before skipping around DI Walker and pulling out a chair at the kitchen table for him. My feet stay planted as my mind wanders.Door-to-door enquiries. Okay, that’s not so bad. It’s not just me he’s seeing. Maybe he’s here because of a local burglary or something like that. The voice in my head doesn’t buy that, though – they wouldn’t send a senior detective for that type of crime, would they? The activity outside suggests something bigger. I swallow down the lump in my throat and take a deep breath as I finally take in the man’s fresh-faced appearance, then, without thinking, say:
‘You seem young to have made detective inspector already?’
Ross shoots me a wide-eyed glare, while DI Walker gives a tight smile that offers the only evidence of ageing skin by causing a slight crinkling at the corner of his eyes.
‘I get that a lot. I think it must be the police equivalent of doctors these days looking like teenagers,’ DI Walker says, drily. I mentally kick myself; offending him before I know why he’s here isn’t the best start. I’m sure he’s worked hard to get to his position, and having people question it must be irritating.
‘Sorry, I think I watch too much crime drama.’ I force my muscles to move, and sit down next to Ross, opposite DI Walker. I immediately jump back up. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t offer you a drink. Tea? Coffee?’ I sense the weight of Ross’s stare, and avoid his eyes.
DI Walker juts his arm out, releasing a watch from beneath the cuff of his crisp white shirt, and checks it.
‘Not for me, thank you.’ He places a small electronic notebook on the table and gives a cough, readying himself to communicate the reason for his visit. I thud back down in the chair. Wild fluttering in my stomach combines with my increased heart rate to provide me with an adrenaline-inducing cocktail. I slip my hands under my thighs to hide their tremor.
‘What can we do for you, Detective Walker?’ I smile.
His azure-blue eyes look directly into mine, and they’re so intense I lower my gaze, a strange feeling washing over me. What is he about to say? The room closes in on me, the air sucked from the atmosphere as I wait with my breath held.
‘We’ve been trying to track you down for a while, now, Mrs Price.’
My mouth dries. Is this it? The moment I’ve beendreading for so long? But would that warrant an entire team of police? I swallow, painfully.
‘Oh, really?’ From the corner of my eye, I catch Ross straighten in anticipation. I wish he’d left for work before the detective arrived.
‘Your name is Anna Price, previously Lincoln, yes?’
The sound of my pulse pounds in my ears. ‘Yes, that’s correct.’ I stare unblinking at DI Walker.
‘I’m sorry to be the one to inform you …’ DI Walker’s eyes flit from mine to Ross’s and back to me and I swallow my frustration together with my words:Get on with it, tell me he’s dead!‘Your brother, Henry Lincoln,’ DI Walker’s features begin to blur; my blood pressure must be sky-high right at this moment, ‘is wanted …’ –not dead –‘… for the murder of multiple women.’
‘What?’ I push back from the table, standing so abruptly that the chair topples to the tiled floor with an ear-ringing crash. Ross leaps up and drags it back to its position, then places a hand on my shoulder.
‘Anna, breathe,’ I hear him say. And I do. My chest heaves with the deep breaths I’m gulping in.
‘This must come as quite the shock. I’m sorry.’ DI Walker gives me a concerned look. ‘Do you want to take a moment? Or maybe sit somewhere more comfortable?’
‘The lounge,’ Ross is saying. ‘That would be better, I think.’
I’m manoeuvred to the sofa, where I plonk down heavily, the wind from my sails well and truly taken. I was prepared fordead. Not formurderer.
Henry – a killer? This can’t be for real.
Chapter 2
Ross’s hand takes mine, gently pulling it away from my mouth. I feel a sting, then the bubble of blood oozes and drips down my chin. I hadn’t realised I’d been picking the skin on my lip – a childhood habit left over from the anxiety and stress I suffered while at the home. I’ve tried hard to eradicate it. I dab it quickly with the tissue Ross has whipped from the box on the table.
