DS Jessica Daniel series: Locked In/Vigilante/The Woman in Black - Books 1-3 (35 page)

She reached the place on the end, where the woman told her she should be looking and got as close as she could without drawing too much attention. The woman must surely be wrong – this
place didn’t deal with locks . . .

And then Jessica saw it.

It did deal with locks. It also engraved signs and trophies, plus sold batteries and various leather goods but that wasn’t the main function of the Gorton Market stall.

Now she could see why she had missed it. Each time she had walked past before she had simply seen the sign for shoe repairs.

And then she knew exactly who Nigel Collins was.

ONE YEAR AGO

There had been no better feeling than ditching the name Nigel Collins. It was something that reminded him of being weak and pathetic, of seeing those fists pounding down upon
him until he woke up in hospital. People had thought he was stupid and weird but there was nothing wrong with being quiet. His parents had died for crying out loud and he had been left in a
children’s home he despised. What did people want him to say and do? He had only been a child and all the other kids picked on him.

That was a few years ago now and he was finally getting things together. The main thing was getting rid of that name, which had taken a while. He never would have felt able to get on with his
life the way things had been after he had left hospital. Luckily, he had made friends living on the street. It was funny that people who were overlooked could be so resourceful. Some of them were
lost to drugs but that had never appealed to him. One of the people he had met had told him he could get him a new ID and national insurance number. You never knew whether to believe what you heard
on the streets but his friend had come through with a brown envelope containing the few basic documents he would need.

He wouldn’t be able to drive without risking being discovered, or leave the country, but that could change with time. When it came to other homeless people you rarely got anything for
nothing but Nigel had found that passing on money from begging and the odd bout of slippery fingers got him what he wanted. You learned all sorts of new tricks when you needed to.

With a new identity, things had started to come good. He got himself a flat. It was horrible but a roof was always better than no roof then he got a job. It was nothing special, just fixing
shoes, engraving and cutting keys on the market but the stall’s owner had been great with him, looking to pass on his skills so he could semi-retire but still take the income. He had found
out lots about himself; how practical and creative he could be. With a new name, somewhere to live and a job, he had found his confidence growing at last. He started making friends and creating a
new life.

Talking to girls.

And then, within days of each other, two people walked into his life as if to taunt him, a reminder of a past he had forgotten. He recognised the faces as parents of the people who had destroyed
his life. Names weren’t a strong point but he never forgot a face. These were features he knew but they had looked through him, not knowing or caring what their children had done.

First a man, mumbling something about having been burgled and needing new keys, pretending he didn’t know who he was talking to. You didn’t usually need to take name and address
details but people rarely questioned you when asked. Every now and then he had got a few girls’ names and numbers in a similar way. When the man returned, he got his keys – without
knowing about the extra one that had been cut.

At the time, the man formerly known as Nigel Collins didn’t know how it could come in handy in the future but then there was a second gift.

Two days later a mother of one of his other tormentors also pretended she didn’t know who he was and came to him with the same story. She said she had been burgled but wanted to chat,
without even acknowledging who he was. She had been only too happy to give over her address details and another key had been pocketed.

He wondered if the other two would walk into his life, two more gifts, but they hadn’t so far. Maybe fate or God was telling him he had to find the other two himself? Perhaps it was time
to be Nigel Collins for one final short period of his life and then he could get back on with things, find a career and a girlfriend and settle down.

FIVE MONTHS AGO

One of the hardest parts of leaving one identity behind was choosing yourself a new name. It had to be something you felt comfortable answering to but also something you
actually liked. After the tedium of ‘Nigel’, he wanted to be more memorable; not weird but something not exactly regulation either. Although he had decided on his new moniker a few
years ago, he had really begun to feel it sticking recently. He felt his senses moving quicker when people spoke his name. The acknowledgment they meant him was becoming instant and natural. He
liked it.

The plan that started forming seven months ago was beginning to work too. The other two he wanted to target had not come directly to him, so he had to make sure they did. The first was easy, the
woman even lived in the same house as years ago, although he didn’t recognise the man with her. He resolved then it would have to be the woman he took; the man could be completely blameless
but not her. He had begun to watch the location and realised it would be difficult to get the right pattern of when she was alone. The first two would be easy but this would be a lot harder. He
felt sure the right opportunity would come if he waited long enough.

He had thought of a way to try to make sure she came to him in the first instance, giving him complete access to her. Everyone loved to save a bit of money and a good offer. In his head it would
be successful and if fate kept favouring him, it would work.

The other woman had been harder to find. Like someone who was homeless, whores could almost live in plain sight with many people driving and walking past but pretending not to see what was in
front of them.

He had used the Internet to check the final name on his list and saw the tormenter was in prison, where he belonged. But that shouldn’t let him off the hook. Finding anyone close to him
had proven hard though. He didn’t even know if they lived in the same area now. He had been waiting for fate to guide him with little luck. He did not want to continue with a plan that only
contained three of the four people he wanted.

And then he saw what he had been wanting to see for all these months – and she had been right in front of him the whole time. He had walked past her row of shops on many occasions as he
went home. He usually kept his head down. He had even heard her voice, ‘Do you fancy . . .’ as he hurried past. Then one night he glanced up and saw what he had been looking for the
entire time. A familiar face from years before, a face he remembered walking young Shaun to school. Befriending her was easy; money tended to do that. Afterwards she wanted to be friends, offering
him cigarettes and complaining about the local kids.

Then everything just appeared to him, a way to get access to both his final places. The owner of his stall had taught him some very useful skills in the past eighteen months, wanting someone to
run the business for him but still keep the profits for himself. He had learned those skills willingly and now he had used them. He repaired the lock he had damaged the night before and pocketed a
third key, and then the final woman came to him on the stall and the fourth and final key had been created.

Now he just had to wait and watch. He didn’t even know if he were capable of doing what he planned. He would have to be focused and think of what had been done to him in the past. He would
have to build up his strength first, develop his body and keep a close eye on the comings and goings of his targets. When the time came he would have to be careful not to leave a trace but he could
plan and wait for the perfect time when there would be little chance of him being discovered.

And then, when all four were gone and he could live with himself again, he could finally say goodbye to Nigel Collins and start his life over. It would be his tormenters who had to live with the
wreckage they had caused, not him.

Jessica didn’t recognise the old man standing on the stall but then she instantly knew why not. The person who had worked there had got himself a new job. Emotions
flooded through her and she kept repeating to herself over and over that she must be wrong. She had to be sure and approached the stall. She had been staring at it trying to take everything in and
the holder must have been anxious as she reached the point where she was directly in front of him.

‘Are you all right, darling?’ he asked in a local accent.

Jessica couldn’t think straight. ‘Yes, sorry. I was just wondering about a man who worked here . . .’

The man half-smiled at her. ‘Heh, you’re not the first. I think a few of the girls around here have had their eye on m’boy over the past couple of years.’

‘
Your
boy?’

‘Oh not my son or anything but, yeah, he’s a good lad. He has a new job, so I’m sorry he won’t be around any longer.’ Jessica didn’t know what to say but the
man clearly misunderstood the look on her face. ‘Oh don’t worry, it’s a good job. I’m pleased he’s sorted himself out. It just means I’ve had to come out of
retirement until I can find someone else to take over.’

Jessica hadn’t been listening but said thanks anyway. Her mind was racing and she felt as if she were in a trance. It couldn’t be . . .

She felt she had to hear someone else say it before it would be true. She had taken a few steps away from the stall but turned around again and walked back towards the man. ‘Could you tell
me what his name was?’

‘You didn’t even know? I didn’t think he was that shy. It was Randall. Randall Anderson. Maybe you’ll get lucky and come across him one day? I think he’s got a
girlfriend so you might have to wait in line.’

The man laughed but Jessica didn’t. She moved quickly away from the stall, fumbling with her bag to pull her phone out. Once again, just as she needed to move quickly, her fingers betrayed
her. She finally pulled it out of her bag but it caught on one of the handles and she dropped it.

Her heart froze as she saw it fall almost in slow motion. There was a small crash as it hit the ground. She bent down and snatched it up but the screen had a slight crack across it, although it
seemed slightly responsive. Jessica pressed the button for her contacts list. The phone was being slow and the scroll was only half-working but she managed to get up a list of recent contacts then
pressed the ‘call’ button next to Caroline’s name.

‘Answer, answer, answer,’ Jessica said quietly but out loud while the phone rang. She heard a click and for a moment thought her friend was about to speak. Instead, it was her
voicemail message. While she listened to her friend’s voice, Jessica remembered that morning’s text saying her friend had been called into work. As the other end of the line beeped,
Jessica spoke frantically.

‘Caz, it’s Jess. Look, wherever you are, go somewhere safe or somewhere public. If Randall is with you, make some excuse to get away and call me back? It’s urgent.’

She hung up and swore, much to the annoyance of a woman walking nearby with a young child. What did she do now? The obvious answer was to do what she always told everyone else to do –
phone the police – but Jessica was thinking of her friend. What if there had been a mistake? She would be risking throwing away their friendship and perhaps her own career.

Ultimately, she wasn’t worried about treading on toes considering the case had been taken from her. It was better to be wrong and get a telling off than be right and do nothing. But if she
ended up making allegations that turned out to be untrue, especially if it looked as if it were designed to coincide with Caroline moving out, their friendship would surely be irreparable. More
practically too, if the police were looking for the killer and he got wind of it, he could go to ground and disappear. He had done it before and Jessica couldn’t risk that happening.

Jessica decided she should head back to the flat to see if Caroline had returned from work. If not she would at least be able to pick up her car and drive to her friend’s office and then
the two of them could go to the police station while people senior to her decided what to do. From the market, the journey would only take ten minutes to get home and that might even give her a
chance to see where she had gone wrong. There was a taxi rank next to the market and Jessica jogged towards it, before opening the door on the first one.

She gave the driver her address and then attempted using her half-working phone again. She called Caroline over and over with no luck but there wasn’t much point in leaving further
messages.

As the taxi drove, she tried to think of things that might not fit but instead could only come up with things that justified her fears even more. Caroline had never met Randall’s parents.
He said they lived abroad but it was an easy thing to say to get out of having your girlfriend meet them. And what about Ryan? He claimed he had found her files on the coffee table after she had
left them under her bag but maybe he did find them where he said because Randall had already gone through them first? It was a horrible thought. It could have been her carrying those files around
that led to Claire Hogan and Mary Keegan being killed quicker before the police could find the connection.

The taxi driver was good and Jessica gave him a ten-pound note before dashing out of the car towards her flat. She put the key in her front door, thinking about how a key had been turned by
Nigel Collins or Randall Anderson to let himself into the victims’ homes.

She pushed the door open and went inside. ‘Caroline?’

There was no answer. Jessica put her bag on the floor next to the front door and took her phone out, putting it in her pocket and then went to pick up the car keys from her room. As she moved,
she thought she could hear some sort of rustling sound coming from Caroline’s room. At first her heart leapt, with her instant thought being her friend was at home but then something far more
sinister occurred to her.