Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1 (17 page)

BOOK: Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1
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The three
of them talked inexorably and before they knew it, it was half past two in the
morning. Julie surprised both Vinny and Rita by her strength of feeling about
Amanda’s death, and no matter how much they tried to dissuade her, she was
adamant that they should repeat their attempt to prove Les guilty.

Eventually Vinny
and Rita had to agree with Julie, because she had stated that if they didn’t
help her she would risk doing it alone, such was her resolve. However, they
would act swiftly, fixing the date for the following weekend because they
reasoned that it wouldn’t be expected so soon after their previous attempt.
They changed the night to a Saturday instead of Friday, because people were
bound to be more alert on the same day of the week as the previous break-in.

Julie had
also insisted that she would be the one to commit the deed as she couldn’t put
Vinny through that trauma again. Knowing that she was impossible to dissuade in
her present frame of mind, Vinny had grudgingly conceded.

When Julie
went to the toilet, Rita had a quick word with Vinny.

‘I don’t
think we’re gonna talk her out of this Vinny. She seems dead set on making sure
he goes down. I just hope she’s up to it.’

‘I know, I
can’t understand it. Why can’t she just let the dust settle and find another
job? It’s not as if she has to live with the guilt of it. We all know that you
and Julie didn’t kill Amanda.’

‘I know,
but maybe there’s always that doubt in her mind and the only way she can live
with what’s happened is to shift the blame. Let’s hope we do find him guilty, ’cos
if we don’t I think it’ll crack her up altogether. I’d love to know what that
Jackie’s got to do with it as well. I always thought she was a spiteful bitch. It
wouldn’t surprise me if her and Les were in it together; two of a kind.’

Vinny
shrugged by way of a response so Rita continued.

‘There’s
one thing for sure Vinny, trying to catch him is the only thing that’s keeping
her going at the moment, and until we do, neither of us is going to find any
peace.’

--------------------

Saturday
23
rd
August 1986

Inspector
Bowden had received news of the reported break-in at Leslie Stevens’ flat.
Recognising that the home of Leslie Stevens was the same property connected
with the Amanda Morris case, one of the PCs had been sure to inform him as the Senior
Investigating Officer. 

The inspector
knew that there could be a possible connection but no matter how much he
rattled his brains he couldn’t think what that connection might be. He went
through the facts in his mind, but he had already spent countless hours trying
to piece together the evidence and his thoughts were just a jumbled mass,
resulting in a throbbing headache. He already had his suspects but couldn’t
prove anything. Why would they want to break into the flat though? It just
didn’t add up.

The update
told him nothing.  A neighbour had reported a man seen climbing out of the
bedroom window of Leslie Stevens’ apartment, but the description of the man was
vague. When Leslie Stevens had returned to the apartment, the intruder had
already left, possibly disturbed when Mr Stevens returned early from his night
out. Officers had carried out a search of the premises but nothing seemed to be
missing. This was verified by the owner, Mr Leslie Stevens.

He sighed
and reached for the bottle of paracetamols in his desk drawer, taking two out
and washing them down with the remains of his cup of coffee. He was beginning
to have his doubts about this case.

--------------------

 

Chapter 27

Tuesday 26
th
August 1986

Les had been watching the woman for the last few days. He
would like to have watched her for a while longer to get a feel for her
movements, but time was against him. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer. If
she went shooting her mouth off to the police he would be finished. Not having
established a regular pattern to her comings and goings, he’d had to wait
around the corner for two hours on the off chance of catching her leaving her
home. It was fortunate that it was evening so there weren’t many people around,
otherwise he might have raised suspicion. This wasn’t the sort of area where people
hung about on street corners.

He’d been
on edge since the night when she’d called round to his flat on the pretext of
returning an LP that she’d borrowed off Amanda and forgotten to bring back.
Trust that stupid Ernie to ask for some gear in front of her, the dickhead.
Fancy doing it in front of Jacqueline of all people! There was a chance she
might not have known what Ernie was talking about. After all, gear could have
meant anything and if she wasn’t into drugs she might have thought he was
talking about something else. But the more he thought about it, he knew that he
couldn’t afford to take the chance, knowing that at any moment she might
realise what had been going on.

It’s a good
job she fancied him. She was so busy trying to sidle up to him on the couch
that she didn’t notice him glare at Ernie and quickly change the subject. Ever
since Amanda had died she’d been calling round to the flat with some excuse or
another – sad bitch! She’d even given him her number; in case he might be
feeling down one night and need a sympathetic ear, she’d said. So he rang her
and played along just to keep her sweet. The ugly cow made him want to puke but
it was the only way to gain her trust and buy some time until he had a chance
to do something about her.

When she left
her home he began to follow her. He’d done a recce of the surrounding streets a
couple of days ago, so he knew where the obscure places were. Unfortunately,
these types of houses didn’t have back entries, but there was a grass verge
surrounded by plenty of bushes on the way to the bus-stop, and a quiet
passageway behind a row of shops a couple of streets further on.

He
continued to pursue her, hanging back so she wouldn’t see him. His heart began
to beat erratically. He knew that the moment had arrived. Within the next few
minutes he must sort her out otherwise he might not get another chance. Luck was
with him as she began to head in the direction of the grass verge.


Just a
couple of minutes more, and she’ll be there,
” he thought. But to his dismay
she turned off into a side street before reaching the grass verge. He knew now
that any possibility of taking her by surprise and dragging her into the bushes
was gone. Although there was a chance she might still pass the row of shops,
there was also a chance that she might not.

Fear
gripped him. He daren’t miss this opportunity! But how else could he carry it
off? Then he seized on an idea. He sped towards her till he was within hearing
range. As soon as he was near enough he called out her name. She peered over
her shoulder, recognition evident in her eyes followed by perplexity at his
presence. Before she could voice her concerns, however, he was upon her. Taking
advantage of her momentary confusion, he sprang behind her, covering her mouth
with his left hand while jabbing the sharp end of a knife into her back with
his other.

‘Not a
fuckin’ sound, or you’re a gonner!’ he ordered.

‘Why are
you doing this?’ she pleaded.

‘I said not
a fuckin’ sound!’ he demanded, prodding her viciously with the knife.

He led her
through the street, thankful that there was nobody about. His mind began to go
into overdrive. What was the quickest way to get her to a secluded spot? They
had already walked away from the grass verge. He knew, however, that if he
continued to lead her to the end of this street, by turning right at the
bottom, they might still reach the row of shops.

They headed
in that direction, their progress slow and awkward. He released his hand from
her mouth gripping her left arm instead, so that he could walk slightly to the
side of her and therefore speed the journey. Before doing so he warned her
again not to speak. He kept the knife pointing in her back with his right hand,
visible from behind but hidden from anybody ahead of them. Because of their
close proximity they would appear just like a courting couple.

As they
walked along he hissed a barrage of insults at her, ‘Thought you were gonna
step into Mandy’s shoes did you, you cheeky bitch? She’s worth a hundred of
you. I don’t go in for ugly birds. Mandy was special. Do you hear?’

‘Yes,’
Jacqueline replied, her voice trembling.

‘Shut it, I
don’t even want to listen to you! You disgust me. You’re an ugly, revolting
bitch. Now just keep fuckin’ moving and keep your trap shut.’

When they
reached the end of the road and turned right, Les was relieved to see the row
of shops in the distance, highlighted by a billboard and wastepaper bin on the pavement.
But his relief soon turned to consternation when he spotted a group of youths
gathered outside one of the shops. It was obviously either a chip shop or off
licence, which must have been shut when he did his recce, so he hadn’t realised
the implication. He cursed himself for his stupidity.

‘You shout
anything to that lot and you’re dead meat!’ he murmured into Jacqueline’s ear.
‘If you do as you’re told I won’t hurt you.’

As they
neared the shops his grip tightened, mirroring his unease. He dug the knife
deeper into her back, so that it was no longer just a threat but was now
beginning to cut through her clothing and was causing her a great deal of
discomfort.

Les figured
that once they reached the shops he would have to drag her along the side of
the buildings and into the back passageway, out of view. He estimated that the
gang of youths were about three shops down and he knew that any noise or
suspicious movement on approach to the shops would raise the alarm.

They were
now about twenty yards from the shops and her co-operation was vital. He
marched her nearer still. The youths were now at the point of recognition. Les
was sweating profusely with the realisation that, should one of them turn and
look in his direction, they would be able to give a good description.

When they
reached the shops he was thankful that she didn’t put up a struggle. Maybe she
had believed his words of assurance that no harm would come to her if she did
as she was told. He had lied of course.

His deceit
became evident as soon as they reached the passageway at the rear of the shops.
He withdrew the knife so that he could turn her round and get a good swing at
the front of her torso. There the flesh was softer and the blade would
penetrate more easily. Now she did put up a struggle, trying to resist the relentless
thrusting of the knife, but it was too late. Jacqueline bled to death in the
grimy back entry, surrounded by the detritus of human life.

Once he was
satisfied that she wouldn’t survive the attack, he covered her body with an old
fencing panel and any other rubble he could find. He hoped that by doing so he
would prolong discovery of the body for at least a couple of days so that he
wouldn’t be fresh in anyone’s memory. Before he left the back passageway he
quickly removed his jacket, turned it inside out and put it back on. That way
he would ensure that most of the blood was hidden and in the dark hopefully no-one
would notice that he was wearing his jacket inside-out. Now he just needed to
make sure that nobody took a detailed look at him while he was making his
escape.

As Les
walked away from the body he was overcome by a strange feeling of euphoria. He
had done it! He had killed in cold blood. He, Les Stevens, had committed the ultimate
crime, and he was thrilled by the thought that, should the need arise, he would
have no problem in doing it again.

--------------------

Saturday
30
th
August 1986

Saturday
night came quickly; too quickly. Julie was filled with a dread, the power of which
she had never experienced before. But she knew that she couldn’t back out now;
she had to see this thing through!

They met at
Vinny’s house and set off together. The three of them sat in silence during the
journey until Vinny stopped the car a few of blocks from Les’s flat as he had
done the previous week.

‘Right,
here goes,’ said Rita.

‘Are you
sure you
still
want to do this?’ Vinny asked Julie, but the look of
determination in her eyes was enough to persuade him that she was still
adamant.

They made
their way towards Les’s flat, Julie’s heart beating wildly. When the building
was in view, Julie felt a wave of panic rise through her body and towards her
throat, constricting the muscles. She swallowed hard as though trying to quell
the panic before it threatened to overwhelm her. They checked to make sure that
the lights were out in Les’s flat and his car was not parked outside before
Julie proceeded further.

Nobody
spoke as she went towards the building. She knew that Rita and Vinny had
accepted that this was something she had to do. She approached the front door slowly.
Extracting a credit card from her bag, she began to slide it into the narrow
gap at the side of the door, forcing the lock to shift. She was surprised at
the ease with which the door slid open, and she stepped inside and shut it
behind her.

She paused for
a moment, wiping her sweating palms on her clothing. While gazing around the
large hallway she took deep breaths in order to calm herself. She noticed that
there were doors to three flats on the ground floor, but she knew that Les’s
flat was upstairs. Vinny had gone over the details several times with her. She
reviewed his instructions in her mind, “
Top of the stairs, full turn at the
halfway landing, top of the next flight, turn left as though coming back on
yourself, follow the stair railing, and Les’s flat is the first door on the
right.
” 

Julie
approached the stairway nervously and began to ascend. First step, OK. Step
two, all right. Step three, getting there. Before she had completed her fourth step
she heard the sound of a door opening at one of the ground floor flats. In the
space of less than a second, she assimilated the facts. “
This person will
come out of the door, spot me, unrecognised. They will assume I am a visitor.
What would I do if that was the case? Answer: turn around and smile.

She enacted
the role, smiling fleetingly at the middle-aged man, then continued climbing
the stairs. She could feel the man’s eyes on her for a moment, then heard his
footsteps heading towards the main front door. “
Thank God I shut it,

she thought, knowing that by leaving the door unlocked, she may have aroused
his suspicion. Within a moment he was gone, but Julie’s anxiety remained.

Two steps
from the landing. One step. Landing. Turn. One more flight to go. She continued
warily, her legs trembling. At the top of the second flight she turned left as
Vinny had instructed, her clammy hand clutching the rail. She spotted the first
door on the right; Les’s flat. That was it.

Julie eyed
the door. It was solid and the lock was of a type that would require a lot more
work than the front door. A new lock must have been fitted since Vinny’s
break-in, as it didn’t fit the description he had given her. She opened her
oversized handbag, which she and Vinny had packed with tools. As she searched
for a suitable instrument with which to prise the doorjamb, the tools clanked
about. Julie shuddered at the rattling sound of metal on metal. She extracted a
screwdriver and began to whittle away at the wood surrounding the lock.

The wood
was hard and after a couple of minutes of chipping away, she had made little
progress. She glanced around her. Julie could vaguely make out the entrance to
another flat on the other side of the stair railings. She realised that if
someone was to walk out of that flat, she would have great difficulty
explaining herself. But her willpower took over.

Julie
continued to work at the wood, gradually breaking off tiny pieces. Then, as she
became frustrated her movements grew fast and frantic. She hacked away, feeling
immense fulfilment as the wood began to fragment until she had worked a gap big
enough for the door lock to give way. She gave the door a satisfied push and it
swung with ease.


So far,
so good,
” she thought, stepping inside the flat. The first room she wanted
to explore was the bedroom to find out whether Les was still storing drugs
there. She recalled Vinny’s instructions; “
second door on the right.

Unhesitating,
Julie set about her business. She pushed the bedroom door open and was
horrified by the sight that met her. In the semi-darkness she saw Les sprawled
across the bed leering at her. ‘Hello Julie,’ he sneered. ‘I’ve been expecting
you.’

Her first
instinct was to run and she spun around. Before she had a chance to get very
far, however, Les leapt up and grabbed her from behind. He threw her viciously
down onto the bed and jumped on top of her, using his hands to pin her down by her
wrists. She saw the madness in his eyes as she lay with her face inches from
his.

BOOK: Slur: The Riverhill Trilogy: Book 1
8.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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