M for murder, p.1
M for Murder, page 1
M for Murder
Keri Beevis
Copyright © 2020 Keri Beevis
The right of Keri Beevis to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in
accordance to the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published as Dead Letter Day in 2013 by Rethink Press
Re-published as M for Murder in 2020 by Bloodhound Books.
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be
reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in
writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the
terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living
or dead, is purely coincidental.
www.bloodhoundbooks.com
* * *
Print ISBN 978-1-913419-35-6
Also by Keri Beevis
psychological thrillers
* * *
Dying To Tell
Deep Dark Secrets
* * *
***
D For Dead
To Mum, Paul and Holly, thank you for always being there, and to Dad, who would have been so proud.
Contents
San Palimo, California. Thursday 8th May 1997
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
A note from the publisher
Love crime, thriller and mystery books?
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San Palimo, California. Thursday 8th May 1997
He had known from the beginning that they would come for him eventually and, in a way, he guessed he was lucky that it had taken them so long to find him.
Almost eight years. Seven years, ten months and twenty-seven days, if you wanted to be exact. He knew of course, because he had counted those days in thick black marker pen on the white emulsion wall, each one that had passed denoted with a red circle, there in plain view for anyone who entered the room to see.
Of course, nobody ever had seen. But that was the beauty of hiding; no one was supposed to know where you were.
A twisted smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was over now, and they would take him away, but it didn’t really matter. Gripping tightly at the arms of his chair, it struck him with bitter irony that he had been living in his own private prison anyway. How would a cell with bars on the window be any different?
It wouldn’t take his jailers long to realise that the force of what he had created could not be stopped.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs below, growing louder as they neared the attic. Glancing in the dresser mirror, he watched as the door opened behind him, and smiled in reassurance at the familiar face that entered the room; at the one person who had been there for him, who had helped and believed in him, and who was now studying him with a concerned look on his face.
‘They’re coming for you.’
It wasn’t a question, but he nodded at the reflection, raising his finger to his lips.
‘We both knew that they would sooner or later,’ he said softly. ‘But it doesn’t matter any longer, does it?’
Although his question went unanswered, he knew that they were both thinking the same thing.
Rodney Boone had been caught, but the game was far from over. There was someone new to fill his shoes now. Someone who didn’t want to see what he had started go to waste. And that someone had a new name and a new face, and new hands with which to kill.
1
Juniper, Oregon. Wednesday 16th April 1997
It was their second doughnut stop of the day. Rebecca Angell, waiting in the patrol car for her partner, stole a glance at her watch and noted that it was only ten thirty. Letting out a sigh, she leant back against the headrest and muttered a curse under her breath. All the time though, her eyes remained alert, watching the crowded city street around her.
This was not what she had expected or wanted.
The move to Juniper had been planned as an escape from small-town life; a chance to get away from her home in Swallow Falls.
Sure, she loved the place. She had lived there all of her life and it held many fond memories, but it would have been a lousy place to be a cop.
Her parents loved the town and it was unlikely they would ever leave. Her dad was minister of the parish, while her mom worked part-time at the high school and, now her daughters were grown-up, served on the local committee.
Rebecca, at twenty-six, was the youngest of her siblings. After high school she had attended college for two years, during which time her rather old-fashioned parents had extolled the virtues of a nice, safe secretarial job, and sure enough, after graduating, she had found herself fetching coffee, answering the phone and performing other mundane duties for a local law firm. She hated the work, stuck it out for a couple of years, but eventually realised she couldn’t spend her life pleasing her parents. A part of her had always hankered to be a cop, probably because she had grown up on a diet of Starsky & Hutch and Charlie’s Angels. While her oldest sister, Jess, made out with boys, and middle sister, Wendy, played with her dolls, Rebecca, much to her mother’s chagrin, had hung out with the Brady twins, playing cops and robbers. Back then, when she had told her parents that when she grew up, she was going to put away bad guys, they had laughed her ideas off, putting them down to a childish whim.
How disappointed they had been then, to discover that all these years later she still had her heart set on a career in law enforcement, and shock followed that disappointment when, after graduating from the academy, she had applied to join Juniper Police Department.
It hadn’t even been a decision for Rebecca, who knew that if she stayed in her hometown, the job would amount to little more than writing out parking tickets and breaking up the odd barroom brawl. Juniper, meanwhile, was a big enough city to offer the excitement that she craved, while still close enough to home that she could visit regularly.
Her mother had predictably begged her to reconsider, over-exaggerating the situation to the extent that anyone would think her youngest daughter was heading off to war, but Rebecca’s mind was already made up.
Now she was here in Juniper though, niggling doubts were starting to creep in. Maybe she was expecting more than the city had to offer.
But then again, maybe she wasn’t being given a fair chance to prove her worth.
Although she had only been here a little over three weeks, she already had the distinct impression her new colleagues didn’t think she was up to the job. She suspected that it had a lot to do with the fact that she came from a small town and, it seemed, they thought working in the city was going to be too much for her, and that was no doubt why she had been partnered with Victor Boaz.
A couple of months of putting up with his lazy, sexist attitude would be enough for her. Let her think that city life was too much trouble and she would soon go running back to the safety of her small town, tail between her legs.
It might have worked if Rebecca had been a different person, but she wasn’t, and if Vic and his buddies intended to scare her away then they had a surprise coming, because she didn’t give up easily. Her mother called it her stubborn streak, never letting up until she got her own way, while Rebecca preferred to think of it as dogged determination. She was good at digging her heels in and had no intention of quitting when she had worked so hard to get here.
The car door opening broke her from her thoughts, and she glanced up as Vic climbed into the driver’s seat, half a doughnut in his hand, the other half wedged in his mouth. In his free hand he held a greasy paper bag, which he offered to Rebecca.
‘Want one?’ he mumbled through his mouthful.
She screwed up her nose. ‘Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.’
Taking the bag from him, she added it to the growing collection already in the glovebox, making a mental note to clear it out when they next stopped, and thinking that if Vic kept eating doughnuts at this rate, he would end up looking like one.
Not a pleasant thought.
That wasn’t to say he was ugly, or even overweight. Even features, close-cropped dark hair and grey blue eyes, tall, and with a bulk that, at the moment, was mostly still muscle, thanks to the few hours a week he did bother to put in at the gym. But he would be piling on the p ounds soon if he wasn’t careful. And if he did pork out, he didn’t exactly have a personality to carry him.
The man wasn’t just a pig when it came to his food either. He was lazy, had little respect for women, and it had quickly become apparent to Rebecca that he would rather spend his day with his feet propped up in front of the TV with a six pack of beer at hand than behind the wheel of a patrol car.
At first, she had wondered why he decided to become a cop. It took just a week of working with him though to realise he was in it solely for the perks. Not punching a clock, and with no one constantly looking over his shoulder, he was able to make as many social stops as he liked, and he frequently abused the siren whenever he didn’t feel like sitting in traffic or wanted to get somewhere fast.
As a rookie, Rebecca was sure she could learn a lot from this man.
Finishing his doughnut, Vic used his pants to wipe the sugar from his fingers and started the engine. As he edged away from the curb, Rebecca had one eye casually trained on the crowded street. She watched as a middle-aged woman pushing a baby stroller paused by a bus stop to fuss over the infant inside.
The boy ran from an alleyway, slowing to a jog as he approached them. He looked young, probably only about fourteen, and had straggly blond hair and a pair of jeans that hung down to the backs of his knees. He made a grab for the woman’s purse and, though the two of them struggled briefly, the boy gained control easily, succeeding in knocking the woman into a crowd of disgruntled pensioners who were waiting for the bus.
Rebecca glanced at Vic, who appeared oblivious to the commotion going on across the street. ‘Didn’t you see that?’ she snapped, thumping him hard on the arm.
He turned to her in irritation. ‘Do you mind?’
Rebecca barely heard him, already out of the patrol car and heading across the street towards the alleyway she had seen the kid disappear down.
‘Stop! Police!’
The boy paused momentarily, glancing over his shoulder long enough to flash a quick mocking grin, before disappearing from sight. Rebecca charged in after him.
The alleyway was long and narrow, the entrance to it flanked by the kitchens of restaurants. Steam and smoke billowed from various pipes and vents, and the strong aroma of Chinese food filled her nostrils. The buildings on either side were tall and both had fire escapes. The kid was no longer in sight and she glanced briefly at the metal staircases wondering if he had used one as an escape route, before dismissing the idea. He had only had a few seconds head start on her and she would easily have seen him before he’d had time to reach the rooftop.
She paused to catch her breath and, in that moment, caught sight of him darting from the doorway where he had been hiding, making a mad dash for the metal fence that blocked the end of the alleyway. As she gave chase, Rebecca picked up speed, glad that she’d persevered with her early morning runs. She wasn’t naturally athletic and didn’t enjoy exercise, viewing the daily running and her visits to the gym as punishment rather than recreation. Now, though, as she closed the gap between herself and the kid, satisfaction kicked in that her efforts were paying off.
Behind her came the wail of a police siren; evidently Vic had finally decided to get his ass in gear.
She didn’t stop to wait for him. The kid was already scaling the fence and if he got to the other side, chances were, she would lose him. Her adrenalin was pumping and there was no way in hell she planned on letting some snot-nosed little purse thief get the better of her.
Reaching the fence, she made a grab for his leg. Catching hold of his sneaker, she pulled hard. Struggling and squealing, the kid kicked out hard, knocking her in the face. Rebecca fell back, landing inelegantly on her ass, the sneaker still in her hand.
Laughing, the kid pushed himself over the fence, dropping easily to the other side. Peering through the bars and waving the red purse he’d snatched as a trophy, he grinned at her.
‘Sorry. Gotta run!’
Feeling cheated, Rebecca picked herself up from the ground and flew for the bars. He was already disappearing around a corner, but she climbed the fence anyway. Behind her Vic pulled the patrol car to a stop, killing the siren.
‘Hey, Angell, he’s gone. Let it go.’
Ignoring him, she swung her leg over the top of the fence. As she dropped to the ground on the other side, she realised that Vic had left the car and was approaching.
He scowled at her through the bars.
‘This had better not be a wild goose chase. I don’t like running.’
Rebecca brushed down the seat of her pants, fully believing him. She didn’t doubt for a second that Vic tried to get away with as little exercise as possible.
‘He has to be around here somewhere,’ she muttered, ignoring him. ‘I mean, where could he go?’
Vic swung a leg clumsily across the top of the fence and jumped down, landing heavily beside her.
‘Believe me, sweetheart, the possibilities are endless.’
Following in the kid’s footsteps, they found themselves in a longer alleyway, this one wider and littered with several large dumpsters. Another fence separated them from the only apparent exit, which meant he was probably hiding somewhere.
Her eyes trying to cover all possible hiding places, Rebecca removed her baton from her belt.
Behind her, Vic was trying to sound disappointed. ‘Oh, well. Looks like he got away.’
‘I don’t think so.’
He looked at her incredulously. ‘Are you crazy? So where the hell is he then?’
‘I think he’s hiding.’
‘Sure he is, Angell. Like he wants to hang around and play games with his cop friends.’
Rebecca ignored the sarcastic comment. ‘He didn’t have time to get away and we’d have heard him if he’d climbed the fence. If we check the dumpsters…’
‘Hey! Wait a minute, wait a minute. What’s all this we?’
‘We’re partners, right?’
‘Yeah, sweetheart, except I’m the senior officer here and I say we go back to the car.’
‘We can’t just give up without checking,’ Rebecca rationalised, feeling her temper rise a notch. She didn’t take kindly to being called sweetheart.
‘Okay. You want to look? Go ahead. I’ll stay here and supervise.’ Giving her a broad grin, he leaned back against the wall and folded his arms.
Rebecca glared at him, refusing to give in. ‘Okay, fine.’
Baton in hand, she defiantly made her way towards the nearest dumpster, her temper close to snapping.
Keep it together, Angell.
She was the newest recruit in the department and couldn’t afford to start making enemies. Vic was popular with many of the officers on her shift and she didn’t doubt that, if he chose to, he could make her life a living hell.
Just bide your time, Angell. Keep him sweet for now and sooner or later you’ll get your chance for revenge.
Her father wouldn’t approve of her thought process. He was a firm believer that two wrongs never made a right.
Remember, Rebecca. Forgive those who trespass against us.
Maybe he was right, but the thought of somehow getting even with Vic Boaz was the only thing keeping her temper in check right now.
She approached the first dumpster cautiously, half expecting the boy to leap out at her with a gun or something. Maybe she should un-holster her own weapon.
