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

‘Wait, I’ll come back with you,’ Claire said. ‘Save you the extra journey in the snow. I think I’ve seen all I need to here.’ She gestured to Danika and Paul. ‘I’ll leave you to it and wait for the report.’

*

As soon as Stefan reached the pool car, his foot slid on the ice, the bottom of his trouser legs dipping into the snow. He cursed as he brushed the fabric clean, but his ankles instantly felt cold.

‘I hate this weather,’ he said, climbing into the passenger seat beside Claire.

She grinned as she pulled off over the forecourt, towards the exit. ‘Did you get anything else from the boys at the firework display?’

His eyes remained focused on the road ahead. ‘Harry’s parents didn’t seem too bothered about what happened.’

‘Figured as much.’

‘Well, you should’ve heard his mother. She made sure she pointed out that if her beloved son hadn’t been messing around on the ice in the first place, we wouldn’t have found the body for weeks. Essentially trying to justify that it’s a good thing her son’s a little shit.’

He turned to face her. ‘I know Melissa and I have had our differences but we’ve kept it friendly for the kids’ sake. God forbid my babies turn out like that Harry.’

Claire glanced over his face.

This had been the second time in months he had mentioned his ex-girlfriend in relation to their children. Although in his mid-thirties, Stefan looked too baby-faced to have one kid, let alone two. He had been with Melissa since meeting her at university and shortly after he’d joined the police she’d quickly fallen pregnant with their son, Phoenix, now aged ten.

It’d been a happy five years for him and Melissa, watching Phoenix grow before they decided to try for another baby. Soon they were blessed with Melody, now aged five, to make their little family complete. It had been over a year since Stefan and Melissa had separated but Stefan was right – they had kept it amicable, despite a difficult break-up.

Claire knew better than to question him about it. He kept his private life out of sight as much as possible. She decided to ask how the kids were, and kept Melissa’s name out of the conversation as much as possible on the short drive back to the station.

*

Paul leaned over Danika’s shoulder to get a better view, as if he didn’t believe what she’d found. She was hunched over, which made it hard for him to see anything other than a little blood on her gloved hands.

‘You can’t be serious?’ he said, moving round the table to get a better view.

‘Look for yourself. Tell me I’ve made a mistake.’

There was no chance of that.

He looked into her dark eyes and frowned, before nervously risking a glance at her findings. When he saw what lay in front of her, he sighed and looked away, his eyes sad. ‘I wish I could tell you I’m wrong,’ she said. ‘The poor girl.’

‘Maybe the killer didn’t know. She wasn’t showing at all.’

‘You think it would’ve made a difference if he did know?’

Paul shrugged, leaning back against the counter, arms folded.

‘I don’t know, I’m not a murderer. Who knows what goes on in some psycho’s head?’ He studied her face and guessed what she was thinking. ‘I know I’m just the assistant, and please, don’t think I’m trying to tell you how to do your job, but I don’t think this is something that should wait until the report. You should inform DCI Winters. Now.’

Danika looked back at her hands and shut her eyes tight. After a long pause, she nodded.

CHAPTER 12 (#ulink_54c611e4-aa3c-5681-b6f2-7f784c03a0d7)

The incident room was large, busy and noisy. Phones were ringing and people were rushing around. There was a flat-screen monitor on a podium, and an image of Nola Grant flickered across the LCD screen.

There were several workstations in the four corners of the room, divided up into areas for detective constables, sergeants and inspectors. In the centre was another workstation, lined with computers and with staff trawling through CCTV footage.

There were more pictures of Nola Grant on the boards along the main wall, together with ‘before’ shots that Rachel Larson had given Stefan the day before and shots from when Nola’s body was found. There was a list of known associates written beside the board and a pile of statements ready to be typed up, read and cross-referenced.

Claire wasted no time pulling everyone together for a briefing to give them the information they had so far from the post mortem and the details of the voicemail message left on Rachel Larson’s phone. After she’d finished, she opened the briefing up for contribution.

‘I want to start putting together a rough character profile on the killer,’ she said, her eyes sweeping the room. ‘I know profiles can hinder a case if we don’t think outside the box, but I think we need to start with some basics.

‘The killer is almost certainly a man. If the motive was sexual in nature, perhaps the killer has had a bad relationship with women all his life. Nola was a prostitute, so maybe a client asked for something she wasn’t willing to give.’

Detective Constable Gabriel Harper stepped in. ‘Do we think it could’ve been an accident and the killer panicked?’

Claire shook her head. ‘It wasn’t an accident. The effort was made to dump her body and weight her down. There’s an amount of foresight and planning.’

‘Textbook stuff then?’ said Matthews.

‘If it were a crime committed in the heat of the moment then the killer would most likely have left her where she fell, whether it be sexually orientated or otherwise,’ Claire said. ‘But this appears to be cold, calculated.’ She paused. ‘It’s significant that she was naked. She was a target.’

‘And that makes you restless?’ Stefan said.

Claire stared at him. ‘Everything about it makes me restless. Aren’t you?’

Stefan shook his head and placed his coffee on a table in front of him. ‘No. I think it may be a one-off. We’ve had prostitutes turn up dead before.’

‘But not like this… Dead in an alley, yes. Dead in some crack den, or dead at the hands of a pimp, yes, but not dumped in a lake. Not the way she was found.’

The room fell silent. Outside it was snowing again, white flakes hitting the window in the strong wind.

‘The warden at the parkland said the lake started to freeze on the first and was completely frozen over by the morning of the fifth. He’s going to provide us with the CCTV footage from his Portakabin,’ Claire said.

Matthews then jumped in, standing up to address the team. He scratched the back of his head as he read from a sheet of paper in his other hand.

‘Uniform has conducted a house-to-house in the area where Nola was believed to have been seen last and from the houses around the lake. DC Harper will be leading another round of interviews, with DC Roberts.’ He looked up at Claire, who was leaning up against a table opposite him, arms folded. She nodded for him to continue.

‘I’ve got more CCTV footage to start trawling through from the town centre and from the shops below Grant’s flat. The chippy and newsagent both have cameras inside and outside their premises, but I also found this an hour ago,’ he said.

He held up a grainy black-and-white 10x8 shot of part of the town centre. A date and time were stamped across the bottom and judging by the angle and neon sign, it was taken from a CCTV camera opposite a McDonald’s.

The last time Nola Grant was seen alive.

The street was virtually empty with only four people, grainy shadows almost, in the frame. There were more people in the McDonald’s itself, but all Claire could see at that angle was the bottom of their legs through the glass window.

There was a car parked outside but the number plate was obscured and the picture was of such bad quality, she couldn’t correctly identify the make and colour, or anything else.

‘What am I meant to be looking at, Matthews?’

He grinned. She’d studied the photo briefly and missed what had caught his eye instantly.