Part 1 (2/2)

Kill Me Again Rachel Abbott 73450K 2022-07-22

What could he know about her? She had fought to keep all expression from her face as she went through the process of asking the standard questions to begin to formulate his defence. Ten minutes into the interview, she was relieved to receive a call from the custody sergeant to say that Frank had arrived to begin his psychological a.s.sessment. He would be watching and listening from the adjoining room. As Maggie replaced the receiver, Alf leaned across the table towards her, discoloured teeth showing between dried, split lips, and she felt herself backing away as far as she could, so not even his breath could touch her.

'Watch yourself out there, Maggie. Nowhere's safe.'

Some days she wished with all her heart that she was a prosecutor and not a defence solicitor, because this man this s.a.d.i.s.tic monster who had hurt so many people had finally been caught red-handed, and was as guilty as sin. She wanted to see him locked up, preferably for life. That was not the way she was supposed to think, though.

Manoeuvring out of the car park and onto the busy wet streets of central Manchester, she kept seeing the eyes of her client, as flat and dark as twin disused railway tunnels, daring her to explore their chilling depths. She had calmly gone through the details of the numerous violent a.s.saults he was charged with committing, every one against a frail, elderly lady, and she had seen his tongue whip out of his smiling mouth to wet his lips. He was reliving the torture and abuse, and his eyes momentarily glazed over before returning to their flat stare. Maggie had felt an almost unstoppable urge to jump out of her chair, pick it up and smash it over his head.

Perhaps she should have refused to take the case, but she had been so lucky to get this job with a top firm of solicitors. They were offering her the chance to become a partner, so against her better judgement she had smiled and agreed to represent Horton. She had had her share of clients who sickened her with lack of remorse for their crimes, but there was something about this man that made her flesh crawl.

And what had he meant when he said, 'Nowhere's safe'? The memory of his expression as he spoke those words was fixed in her mind, and as she drove through the city centre each pa.s.sing pair of headlights appeared to project a holographic image of his face floating just beyond her windscreen.

Maggie pulled quickly off the road and into a bus bay, leaning forward to rest her head on the steering wheel.

'Get a b.l.o.o.d.y grip,' she said to herself. She reached up and pulled her long dark hair free from the doughnut holding it in place at the back of her head. Opening her bag, she threw the grips and bands in, hoping that the switch in appearance from criminal lawyer to wife and mother would restore some rational thought. She twisted the rear-view mirror and groped around in the bottom of her bag to find a lipstick.

Better, she thought as she looked at her full red lips.

There was a bang on her rear window. Maggie spun round, suddenly anxious about whether she had locked the doors. There was a laugh. A group of teenage boys stood on the pavement, preening themselves, pretending to put lipstick on and shake their hair, one making obscene gestures with his right hand. They weren't even worth a look of disgust.

Maggie wrenched the mirror back into place and pulled back out into the road, focusing on nothing more than what Duncan might have cooked for their dinner that night.

2.

The roads were terrible. The sleet had quickly turned to snow, and as usual Manchester was ill-prepared. Maggie had seen a couple of cars slide into the kerb already, so knew she had to take it slowly, much as she was anxious to be home. Desperate for some normality in her day she spoke to the car's Bluetooth connector.

'Call home.'

She waited. n.o.body picked up. Funny that. The children should have had their tea by now and be getting ready for bed. At least Lily should. Maybe it had snowed a lot more at home, and it would be just like Duncan to wrap them up warmly and go outside for a s...o...b..ll fight. She decided to leave it five minutes and then try again.

In the nearly two months since they had moved to Manchester the children had settled into their new school, but Maggie was concerned about Duncan. As a couple they had decided long ago that Maggie should be the princ.i.p.al earner and Duncan the main carer for the children. It made sense. Duncan accepted that Maggie could bring in much more than he could earn as a plumber, and so now he only took jobs that he could finish in time to do the school run. Both he and the children had seemed to be thriving under this arrangement, and Maggie had to admit that it was wonderful to come home to a meal cooked for her. She made a point of taking over the cooking at the weekend to give Duncan a rest, and it worked.

Duncan had been surprisingly unenthusiastic about their move to Manchester, though. In her view there had been nothing much keeping them down south except perhaps the weather, which without a doubt was better than the cold and wet of Manchester and Duncan had seemed to finally recognise the sense of it. Maggie's huge pay rise had probably helped, but still Duncan had seemed resigned rather than excited about the move and maybe it was time they had another chat about it. She wanted them to be as happy here as they had always been and for the last couple of weeks Duncan had definitely been quiet.

It was time to try calling them again. She waited and listened and was about to end the call again when the phone was answered. Thank G.o.d.

'h.e.l.lo. Josh Taylor speaking.' Josh sounded as timid as he always did on the phone. Lily aged five had far more confidence than her older brother.

'Hey, Joshy. I thought you'd all be outside having a s...o...b..ll fight or something.'

'No.' That was her son. Monosyllabic.

'I'm going to be a bit late, I'm afraid. The roads are awful because of the weather. Can you put Daddy on the phone, sweetheart?'

'He's gone out.'

'What's he doing? Clearing the drive?'

'No. He's gone out.'

Maggie took a deep breath. Sometimes her son's lack of words could be frustrating.

'Okay, love. Where is he exactly?'

'I don't know. He started to make the tea, but then he went out. In his van.'

Maggie screwed up her face in puzzlement.

'So who's there with you and Lily?' Josh didn't answer immediately. 'Josh?'

'n.o.body. There's just me and Lily.'

A jolt of shock fired through Maggie's body. What did Josh mean?

Her limbs suddenly felt leaden, as if everything she was doing was in slow motion. 'Daddy has gone out in his van? Are you sure, Josh?'

She heard a sigh from the other end of the phone and then as if a dam had burst, her son started to speak. 'Yes, Mum. I told you. He was making our tea, and then he stopped. Me and Lily are starving. He's been gone ages. He came into the sitting room to say goodbye.'

'And what did he say?' There was a loud blare of a car horn and Maggie realised that the traffic lights had changed to green.

'He said he was sorry.'

Maggie's head was spinning. She needed to get home. Her kids were in the house alone an eight-year-old and a five-year-old in a dark old vicarage at the end of an unmade cul-de-sac. She didn't know the neighbours didn't know their numbers hadn't bothered to invite people round yet. She had been so keen to get them all settled.

'Josh, listen to me, sweetheart. Take the phone and go into the kitchen.' She listened to her son's faint footsteps. 'Okay. Now pull a chair over to the door and stand on it. I want you to fasten the bolt at the top of the door. Do you know what I mean, baby?'

Logically, she knew there was nothing to panic about. She would be home in less than half an hour, and Josh was nothing if not sensible. But after today's meeting and Alf Horton's warning, all she could see was the black outline of her house against the night sky and a stranger approaching the door.

Striving to keep the tension from her voice, she spoke to Josh again.

'How are you doing?'

She heard some grunts as he struggled with the door.

'Okay. Done it.'

'Right, Joshy, I need you to go to the front door and do a double turn on the lock there. Do you know what I mean?'

'Course I do. Then you won't be able to get in, Mum.'

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