The Principle of Evil: A Fast-Paced Serial Killer Thriller

Daryl lit a cigarette, took a deep drag and exhaled, revealing his stale-yellow teeth, and got out of the car. He walked a short way up the road and leaned up against the wall of a house on the edge of the turning towards the main street. He could now see Rachel’s face clearly and she appeared on edge. Her eyes kept darting back and forth towards him and, after a short while, he crushed the cigarette under his foot and crossed the road.

*

‘We could go back to your flat, if that’d make you more comfortable,’ Stefan said, more than aware of the fear in her eyes. ‘We could talk more openly then.’ Rachel shook her head, and when she saw Daryl closing in on them, she sprang from her seat.

‘You need to leave. Now.’

Stefan and Elias exchanged glances. They saw the panic in her eyes. They knew what they needed from her and the sooner she ID’d the body, the better.

‘Look,’ Elias said, ‘I don’t think you understand. We need to talk to you about your friend. It’d be better if we went back to your flat.’

‘No, you don’t understand,’ she said, edging closer. ‘Please, leave now. I’ll call the station later, I promise.’ She gently pushed Elias out of her way, but it was too late.

‘You two paying or not?’ Elias turned to look behind him. ‘If you’re not, just fuck off, yeah? You understand me, boys?’

Elias sneered at the sight of the shabby, dirty-looking man and reached inside his pocket. He showed the man his warrant card.

‘DS Crest, meet Daryl Thomas,’ said Stefan. Daryl’s face turned sour and his eyes narrowed at Elias’s credentials.

‘She’s done nothing wrong, sitting ’ere minding her own business. You got nothing.’ He folded his arms in defiance.

‘Miss Larson isn’t in trouble, Daryl. An associate told us she was here after we got no answer at her flat. We’re here about Nola Grant,’ Stefan said.

Daryl swaggered around Elias to stand beside Rachel. ‘You tell that silly slag to get her skinny arse back round ’ere ’n see me.’

‘That’s not possible,’ Elias said. He saw Stefan shake his head and his jaw set firm as Rachel began to cry.

Daryl saw their faces and edged closer. ‘What you two hiding?’ he said, raising his finger, pointing at both of them. ‘Where is she?’

Stefan ignored him and focused on Rachel. ‘We’d like to talk to you back at your flat. We’ll give you a lift.’

‘Stay out of the fucking car,’ Daryl said, grabbing her roughly by the arm. ‘Whatever you say to her, you can say in front of me.’

‘Careful, Thomas. You don’t want another assault charge under your belt.’

‘Fuck off. I’m just looking out for the lady, aren’t I, Rach?’

‘Shall I add using offensive language to an officer as well?’ Elias asked Stefan. Daryl puffed out his chest and pushed strands of his thinning brown hair out of his eyes.

‘What’s your name again?’ Daryl let go of Rachel’s arm and she rubbed it instinctively through her thick coat. Daryl squared his tall wiry frame up to Elias. Stefan took the opportunity to move Rachel, and helped her into his car.

‘Hey!’ Daryl called out and Stefan used his key fob to lock the automatic doors as Daryl reached for the passenger-door handle.

‘She’ll be fine, Daryl, settle down.’

Elias reached out and gently pushed Daryl back when he tried to round on Stefan.

‘Get your fucking dirty hands off me.’

‘You want to get a new profession, Thomas. Real men don’t beat women.’

‘You wanna fucking have a go, pig?’ He shoved his hand hard into Elias’s chest. ‘What does it matter to you? Plenty of your lot are serviced by my girls.’

Elias’s face dropped. He reached out and grabbed Daryl by the front of his jacket, pulling him forward, until his face was just inches from his own.

‘She’s dead.’

He watched Daryl’s eyes now searching his own. He went to speak, but Elias stopped him, tightening his grip. ‘Nola. Is. Dead.’

Daryl’s face grew serious. ‘You’re lying.’

‘She’s laid out on the slab in the morgue. She’s been murdered, Daryl, and I’ll be coming back to speak with you about it personally. I’ll make sure of it.’

PART TWO (#ulink_8cec02d1-dab0-509e-81ce-24fb31136e4d)

02:58 a.m.

A deep pounding echo. A rush of blood through the ears. Breathing is hard and rapid.

She can see her own feet when looking down with eyes that don’t quite feel like her own. The ground is drenched in melting ice and snow. There are trees, so many trees, skeletal branches and trunks like twisted figures in the grey. Her surroundings are void of colour, entwined in a thickening mist.

Running.

She runs across the woodland floor. She has no shoes, and her feet are turning numb. Her legs are heavy. They can’t keep up with the will of her heart, the pull of her soul.

Her eyes scan the surroundings and everything whips past in a blur. A panoramic view of no way out, no place to hide. Her heart slams harder against her ribcage, fear driving her on.

All she can hear now is the sound of her own breathing, a fearful rush through the depths of her body.

A body too tired to run for much longer.

She sees the path ahead.

A path dense with trees, their roots stretching far and wide. She doesn’t see the twisting, dark root, snaking its way above the earth, and crossing her path. It’s too late now to stop herself.

Her foot is hooked. Her legs pull from under her. She is no more than a rag doll, cast aside. She panics as the ground rushes up to meet her. She can hear a voice as she falls.

She knows she can’t fight any more.

Still the ground rushes towards her. She feels like she is endlessly falling in slow motion, the wind pulling through a mass of blonde tangled hair.

CHAPTER 9 (#ulink_9899f424-1ff5-58d5-b713-177e1af454e5)

7

November

The first November snow started to fall at exactly 5:31 a.m. Claire knew the time, having been up since 3:00 a.m., unable to sleep after yet another night terror. It was her third that week.