Very scared.
Her head hit the floor, her body shuddered and vibrated like it was trying to expel its last few atoms of air and there was no more time to think or feel anything.
Nothing.
PART TWO
32
Phil stood once more on the threshold. The gateway to another world.
There is a darker world, Phil knew, that lives alongside the everyday one. This secret world was unpleasant and depressing, a world of pain and hurt and sudden, senseless death, loss and despair. It turned homes, places of refuge and safety, into cold, abattoir death scenes. Destroyed lives both by what it took and what it left behind.
It was a place most people were aware of but chose to ignore, hoping that entry would only be for others, something that only happened to someone else. Not them. Never them.
But it didn’t work like that. The doorway to the secret world could be opened at any time, anywhere by anyone. This was the silently acknowledged truth. Its worst kept secret.
And here it was again, on Maldon Road in Colchester.
Suzanne Perry’s flat was now the latest gateway to the secret world.
Dead bodies in homes were the worst of all, Phil thought. Finding the body of the woman he presumed to be Julie Miller was horrific enough. But that had been outdoors with the possibility of looking away. A dead body in a domestic environment was much more upsetting to him. There, it was impossible to look away. Everywhere he looked he ended up looking back at the body.
‘Oh God, not again…’
Phil didn’t realise he had spoken aloud until everyone else turned to look at him. But they knew he was just voicing what the rest of them were thinking.
He stood in the kitchen doorway. Or it had once been a kitchen, now it was a killing room. Blood sprayed on the walls, the ceiling, the floor. On every surface, in every nook and cranny. Blood. Everywhere.
He looked down at the body of a blonde-haired woman. Her head was right back, at an angle that would have been impossible during life. The gash in her throat was so deep, wide and scarlet it was a parody of an extra smile. Her hands were at her throat as if trying to stop the spray of blood and her legs were splayed out at awkward angles to the rest of her body as if she had been kicking violently against death. Her eyes were wide, staring, her mouth open, as if she didn’t understand what had happened to her. Phil’s heart went out to her.
Mickey Philips appeared alongside him. ‘Morning, boss.’
‘Mickey,’ said Phil, his eyes still on the body. ‘What we got?’
Mickey opened his notepad. ‘Name’s Zoe Herriot. Speech therapist at the General. Boyfriend called it in.’
Phil frowned. ‘Boyfriend?’
‘Friend’s been having trouble, apparently. She stayed over.’
Phil nodded, still not looking at his DS. He became aware, however, that his DS was looking at him. He looked at Mickey. ‘What?’
Mickey quickly looked away. ‘Nothing, boss. Just… nothing.’
Phil knew what he must look like. But he didn’t care. He had read Marina’s letter the previous evening. All about needing space to make decisions. Wanting time to think things through. She had taken Josephina with her, was promising to look after her. Don’t call her, don’t contact her. Just give her time and space. To get her head straight.
He had no idea what that meant. But it scared him.
Putting the letter down he had felt the murmurings of a panic attack begin to grip him. He had stood up, walked round the house breathing deeply, trying to shake it off. But he kept going back to the letter, reading it and rereading it, looking for clues, hidden meanings, anything that might tell him where she had gone, what she was doing. She was the love of his life. He had gone through too much to have her in his life for her to leave it again.
It was too much for him. Eventually he had broken down, cried. Then picked up the phone.
He knew that wasn’t a good idea, going directly against Marina’s wishes, but he couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help himself. He rang her mobile. Waited, hands shaking. Nothing. Voicemail. Left a message. Short, together.
Eventually he ended up sitting on the side of the bed – Marina’s side of the bed – staring at the cot, unable to move. He had stayed that way for most of the night, the phone next to him, his hand on it, just in case she called.
But there had been nothing. No call, no text. Nothing.
At some point he must have fallen asleep fully clothed, curled up on Marina’s side of the bed. He was woken by his mobile. Thinking it was Marina he scrambled to the floor, grabbed it from where it had fallen, put it straight to his ear. Chest pounding, hoping it was Marina.
It had been Mickey. Telling him of a murder at a flat on Maldon Road and to get down as quickly as possible.
He had got straight up, had only a cursory wash and teeth brush, tried to pull himself together, compartmentalise and made his way straight there. He knew what he must look like. He didn’t care.
‘The boyfriend’s called Adrian Murphy. Apparently’ – he gave a quick glance at the body on the floor, not too long, remembering what had happened with the last one – ‘Zoe said her friend was having a bit of trouble. Ex- boyfriend, or something. Zoe phoned him last night, said she couldn’t sleep. He said he’d come over but she didn’t think that was such a good idea. Said to phone her first thing and if she didn’t answer, then come over. That’s what he did.’
‘And where is he now?’
‘Down the station. Giving a statement. Didn’t think it was too healthy to keep him here.’
‘Right.’
Mickey kept looking at him. ‘We better get suited up, boss. CSI’ll be here soon.’
Phil nodded, looked up. Saw Anni making her way down the narrow hall towards him. Her eyes were almost as wide as the blonde corpse’s on the floor.
‘You all right?’
She nodded absently. ‘This was my case, boss. The one I told you about yesterday.’
Phil looked once more at the body then at his DC. ‘This is her? Your stalking victim?’
Anni shook her head. ‘This is the friend that was staying with her.’
Phil looked about. ‘So where is she, then? Your girl?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Anni. ‘Gone…’
33
Suzanne opened her eyes. And it was still dark. She tried to move. Couldn’t.
Panic welled within her and she started to kick. She didn’t get very far.
Tears sprang into the corners of her eyes. She screamed. Nothing. No response. Just her muffled cries dying
