Liar Read online

  He smiled then. ‘I’m glad to hear that. Any man who hits a woman is a bully and a coward. You deserve far better.’

  ‘Thank you, Peanut. I’ll work on that one. Now I’d better get on.’

  Jack came back with the news that Kat hadn’t been found. His police source said they had found a trail of blood to and from the summerhouse, so assumed she’d spent last night there and left in the morning. The lack of a fresh blood trail suggested she’d managed to dress the wound before moving on. They had found the lead pipe, though, and Forensics had it now for testing.

  That Kat was fit enough to move on meant the police weren’t thinking of charging Amelia with anything for the time being. Meanwhile they had searched Kat’s room and found a series of notebooks that documented how she had kept watch on each of the dead girls. She was in the habit of following them from their homes onto tubes or buses; she had kept car registration numbers of people who picked them up; she had lists of which shops they used, when they went to launderettes, pubs and restaurants. She had even taken photographs of the girls and any men or friends she’d seen them with. More chilling still was that she had befriended Carol’s mother and had been invited into her house. The police wondered if that visit had tipped the poor woman over the edge into committing suicide.

  Jack related all that to anyone within hearing distance. He must feel tortured, Amelia thought, to have so much meaty information he was unable to put into print until Kat either died or came to trial.

  When he’d finished, he beckoned Amelia into his office to tell her something more.

  ‘I don’t want them out there to know this,’ he said, waving his hand at the other staff in the adjoining office, ‘but the police found what amounts to a dossier on you, sweetheart.’

  Amelia gasped and Jack patted her shoulder to reassure her.

  ‘She didn’t intend you to be another victim, but she clearly had some sort of obsession with you, from some time before you got to know her. There were descriptions of outfits you wore on certain days – she even followed you, maybe hoping to engage you in conversation. The police are finding it hard to believe she managed to hold down her job at the newsagent’s because she was so busy keeping tabs on people. But her employer said she was always phoning in sick, and he’d suspected her of stealing from him, but couldn’t prove it. She had told him as many lies as she did everyone else.’

  Amelia realized that her life as she knew it had to be put on hold until Kat was found. She was still scared the woman would come for her, and meanwhile she was under a spotlight.

  Jack said he had been told the police were going to have a telephone installed in her room for her safety – it would save them the expense and manpower of a police guard.

  That evening, when Sam arrived to drive her home, she told him how she felt. ‘If I can’t have you just outside the house I’d like to go away, somewhere quiet and pretty, perhaps by the sea, where no one knows me, and I can just lie around and read books or go for long walks. I’m sick of being questioned, asking questions, and people looking at me.’

  ‘I could look at you all day,’ he said, grinning at her.

  Amelia laughed. ‘I wouldn’t mind that.’

  ‘I’d like to be in that quiet pretty place too,’ he said. ‘But most of all I’d like this business to be over so I can take you out, walk down the street holding your hand and say you’re my girl.’

  Amelia thought that was the nicest thing any man had ever said to her. ‘I’d like that too. Tell the other chaps down at the nick to find Kat as we have things to do.’

  ‘Tomorrow they’re going to put the phone in for you,’ Sam said. ‘At least we can talk to each other then. Mind you, it’s not just talking I want to do.’

  Amelia giggled. She’d had the same thought.

  Sam was in civvies that evening and in an unmarked car, so Amelia asked him if he could take her to the launderette. She hadn’t been able to get any washing done since her protection order had been issued and she was desperate for clean clothing.

  The launderette was quiet for once, only four people using it. ‘Well, this is a fun date,’ Sam whispered to her, as she began putting her clothes into a machine. ‘I’d considered a posh restaurant or the pictures!’

  Amelia laughed. ‘Time for that in a few weeks. Funny to think I met Kat here. She seemed so nice, such good company, though now I know almost everything she told me was a lie.’

  ‘Did you tell her stuff about you and your background?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I was too interested in her telling me about buying trips to Rome and the men she was wined and dined by. I suppose I envied her. Do you think that might have been why she told those stories? So people would look up to her and envy her?’

  ‘Maybe. Her real life story hasn’t got much glamour, has it?’

  ‘Nor has mine, but it hasn’t made me invent a new one.’

  ‘You don’t say much about it. Why is that?’

  She shrugged. ‘It’s not a happy story, Sam. Five kids, drunken bully of a father and a weak messed-up mother. You wouldn’t want to meet them, that’s for certain.’

  ‘How long is it since you had any contact?’ he asked.

  ‘At least seven years,’ she said. ‘I hear from Michael, my oldest brother – he broke away and is a doctor in Suffolk – but the rest are just awful, and I don’t want to be involved.’

  ‘I did a short course on family counselling a while back. I was told that people who have become estranged from their families can often benefit by going back. The idea behind it is that sometimes they demonize their families, and often find explanations by going back to take another look. They didn’t suggest it was a cure-all, or that miraculously you’d find you were completely wrong about your family, but many people find new understanding and clarity.’

  Amelia shook her head. ‘I saw them clearly enough the first time, thank you. My idea of Heaven would be to discover I didn’t even belong to that family.’

  He pulled a sad face. ‘Okay, your choice. Just passing on a bit of information.’

  ‘What about your family?’

  ‘Boringly normal,’ he said. ‘Well, perhaps not boring. My dad runs a pub in Staines called the Waterman. My mum died several years ago from cervical cancer.’

  ‘Oh, no, how sad.’

  ‘Yes, it was awful, but Dad pulled us all through. My brother Tom is a stockbroker in the City, and sister Ellen is a nurse – she’s getting married soon. Dad has married again. Susie is ten years younger than him and she’s given him a new lease of life. They’re very happy and we all like her very much. That’s about it.’

  ‘Sounds a good life to me, except for your mum dying,’ Amelia said.

  ‘I’ve got nothing to complain about, except that perhaps I’d like my future to be a bit more exciting.’

  ‘I’d like a home with my own bathroom and to get a book published,’ she said. ‘I’ll gladly forgo excitement.’

  ‘I imagined you writing a book when I first met you,’ he said, ‘probably only because you’re a journalist and the two things seem to go together. Soon you’ll have a complete story to write. It’ll be brilliant, too, as you have all the inside information.’

  Amelia got up to take the washing out of the machine and transfer it to a dryer. ‘Maybe. That was the idea when I first started poking my nose into each victim’s life. But it’s disappointing to find that in reality there are no true heroes or villains, just flawed, troubled people who can be nasty, mean, and all the other bad stuff, with just a veneer of decency hiding it.’

  ‘An extremely cynical view,’ Sam raised one eyebrow. ‘But I suppose if you just mean the people you’ve met through this, maybe you’re right. But I wouldn’t agree about the whole of humanity.’

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. You’re one of the good guys,’ she said, with a smile, as she folded her bed linen.

  Sam carried the big bag of clean washing up to her room, but after a quick cup of tea he said he had
to go back outside. ‘I wouldn’t put it past Sarge to turn up, wanting to make sure I’m at my post,’ he said.

  ‘Kat’s not going to come here, is she?’

  ‘You never know. She’s unhinged, Amelia. People like that don’t always think of the consequences. And then there’s Max. What if he comes back? We’ve been watching out for him, and he hasn’t been spotted, but he’s still got a lot of gear in his room. I can’t see him abandoning that. But I’ll be happier when the phone is put in.’

  He kissed her again before leaving. ‘Our time will come soon,’ he said at the door. ‘And it will be all the sweeter for waiting.’

  ‘That sounds like something a vicar would say,’ she said, and pouted. ‘Good night, Sam. I’m so glad you are keeping me on the straight and narrow.’

  The days seemed to crawl by, with still no news of Kat. Amelia was told there was dried blood on the pipe from Kat’s bag, but they could only tell it was human, nothing else. The telephone was installed in Amelia’s room, but although it was comforting to know she could summon help if necessary, it made her feel more alone, because no one other than Sam ever rang her, and she knew few people with a phone.

  At work everyone was waiting for news that Kat had been found and arrested. Pictures of her had been circulated and Sam said that every place mentioned in the notebooks in her room had been thoroughly checked. What more could anyone do?

  Mr and Mrs Lark and the Whelans kept demanding that their daughters’ murderer must be found and tried. There were even theories that the young woman the police believed was responsible was an invention to keep the heat off their investigation. Meanwhile the real murderer was roaming the country, free to kill someone else.

  Mabel Livingstone, the model friend of Rosie Lark, was featured in a full-spread article in She magazine. She claimed that the real killer was someone high up in government, a man her friend had had an affair with, and that he was so important the police wouldn’t call him in for questioning.

  Amelia telephoned her one evening and found Mabel half cut. She said that people kept badgering her about Rosie, and her agent had told her that her friend was seeing a government official.

  Amelia gathered from the drunken ramblings that Mabel had been persuaded to enlarge on this story for the press.

  ‘Don’t you think you’re betraying your friend by spreading false stories?’ Amelia asked. ‘I know for certain Rosie was killed by a woman, someone she and the other two victims had been cruel to years ago. Rosie might well have been seeing a government official, but he certainly didn’t kill her. If this man is married with children, you’re going to wreck his life and his marriage. That isn’t right.’

  ‘Married men shouldn’t get involved with other women,’ Mabel slurred. ‘It serves them right if they get found out.’

  ‘It is a two-way thing,’ Amelia reminded her. ‘And don’t tell me girls don’t know if a man is married or not. I’ve always sensed it, and I bet you have too.’

  ‘Don’t be such a prig, Amelia,’ Mabel said. ‘I like married men. They buy me lovely presents, take me to super places and they’re usually great lovers. But the best thing is that you can get rid of them easily when you’re bored with them.’

  Amelia had to laugh. She could hear the truth in what Mabel had said. ‘I just hope you don’t get your fingers burned one day then,’ she said. ‘That’s the other side of married men – they rarely leave their wives.’

  ‘You’re right there,’ Mabel agreed. ‘You know, you and I ought to go out together sometime. I like you, even if you do seem to be on the side of the angels.’

  ‘I like you too,’ Amelia responded. ‘But behave and don’t get any innocent men into trouble.’

  Mabel gave a throaty laugh. ‘The only innocent man I know is my father. Can I take your phone number? When I’m sober, I’ll ring to arrange to go out.’

  As Amelia put down the receiver it occurred to her that Mabel was probably as lonely as she was. Being beautiful and a successful model didn’t necessarily guarantee a perfect life.

  Kat jumped back into her mind, as she seemed to do constantly. Whatever she’d done, Amelia couldn’t help but worry that she was holed up somewhere, alone, frightened and in pain. How could she try to find her? Was there something Kat had told her that was a clue?

  21

  A soft noise at her door woke Amelia. She rubbed her eyes and reached out to turn on the bedside lamp, thinking it was Sam creeping in to see her.

  To her shock it wasn’t Sam but Max, unshaven, dirty and wild-eyed.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she said, a ball of fear knotting in her stomach.

  ‘I’ve come to see you, of course,’ he said, moving to sit down on her bed.

  She knew the police had changed the locks, so he must have forced them.

  ‘Forcing doors in the middle of the night? Did you really think I’d want to see you after all this time? Get out now!’

  ‘Now, now, Mimi, you said you loved me. Does love vanish at the first hurdle?’

  Amelia sat bolt upright. ‘You hit me, you lied to me about everything. Do you really think I could love you after that? Now get out or I’ll ring the police.’

  She reached out for the telephone receiver, but he snatched it from her. ‘You got me arrested and my room searched! There’s been a police guard outside, and I knew they were waiting for me to come back to pin something else on me.’

  ‘I didn’t get you arrested. It was your own stupidity that prompted that. Now go or I’ll scream and alert the other tenants.’

  He sneered at her. ‘Whatever happened to the pathetic, lonely girl who was so grateful for any company or attention she’d do anything to please?’

  ‘I’ve never been pathetic,’ she snapped. ‘But you are because you told me a pack of lies about your family, your work, everything. Why, Max? And that isn’t even your real name, is it? Fuck off, Brian, or you’ll live to regret coming in here.’

  He lunged at her, grabbing her by the throat with both hands. ‘You don’t tell me what to do. I want food, money, and if I decide I want sex, I’ll just take that too.’

  She tried to scream but he was holding her throat too tightly. All she could do was thrash her legs about and try to get his hands off her throat.

  ‘I always wondered what it would be like to strangle someone,’ he said, with a wolfish grin. She noticed his teeth hadn’t been cleaned for weeks and his breath smelt sour. ‘Was it you who got my landlord to change the locks on my room too? What right did you have to do that?’

  Amelia was terrified. The lock-changing on his room had had nothing to do with her. She had always half expected him to come back here at some time, but imagined he’d be on his best behaviour, penitent for hurting her, asking if they could start again. Not this.

  ‘I – I – I –’ She tried to speak but he was still holding her neck too tightly. She waved her hands at him, hoping he’d loosen his grip.

  ‘Yes? You want to say something?’

  She tried to nod.

  ‘Okay, but one hint of a scream and I’ll finish you off,’ he said, and loosened his grip enough for her to speak.

  ‘Let me up and I’ll get you money and food,’ she said.

  ‘I can tie you up and gag you and get it all by myself,’ he said. ‘And there’s sod all you can do about it.’

  To demonstrate this he reached over to the chair near her bed where she’d left a silky scarf. He pulled it towards him, punched her cheek, then shoved the scarf into her mouth.

  ‘There.’ He grinned down at her again as he pushed it further and further into her mouth until she began to retch. ‘That should shut you up.’

  He turned away from her to pull the belt from her dressing-gown. In that moment, Amelia reached for the telephone receiver. There was no time to call 999 but if she left it off the hook, tucked under the edge of the bed, there was a slim chance Sam might try to ring and guess she was in trouble when the line was permanently engaged.


  Max didn’t appear to notice what she had done: he was too busy testing the strength of her dressing-gown belt. Then when she expected him to grab her hands, he pulled her to her feet. ‘I want a rest on the bed, so you can sit on a chair and watch me.’

  He put the belt around her waist, and secured her to one of the dining chairs, the knot at her back. Next, he opened her wardrobe and pulled out two leather belts. He wound one in a figure of eight to hold her feet to the legs of the chair, then yanked her arms around to the back of it and pulled the second tightly around her wrists. He had made a first-class job of attaching her to the chair. When she tried to move there was less than an inch of play on her feet and wrists.

  Standing back and looking at her, he grinned again. ‘Got you just where I want you now. I’ll get myself some food, find your savings and have a snooze. I do hope one of those coppers who’ve been guarding you comes around at some time during the day. Won’t be nice for you sitting in piss and shit.’

  He laughed at that, and she wondered how she could ever have believed he was the man of her dreams.

  She was beyond crying or panicking. Her face was throbbing from the punch, and she was aware that the scarf in her mouth could easily get sucked further down her throat and suffocate her, just through breathing.

  She watched as he threw bacon into her frying pan and tipped a tin of beans into a saucepan. He kept up a running commentary of what he was doing, breaking off every now and then to tell her what a pathetic bitch she was.

  ‘I fucked that mate of yours,’ he said gleefully. ‘It was the day she called with flowers for you. God, I wish I hadn’t bothered, never saw such a hairy snatch – it was halfway to her knees. Turned my stomach. But, hell, was she grateful! Must’ve been the first fuck she’d had in years. I heard she’s the one who killed those three birds. Bloody hell, what a turn-up! You don’t half get mixed up with some weird people!’

  Amelia could only think he was the weirdest of the lot, and indeed wondered if he was on some drug – he seemed like a different person. She also wondered where he’d been holed up all this time. As he knew she was being guarded he must have been close by all along and had come tonight because the patrol car was no longer there.