Page 4 of The Serial Killer’s Sister (The Serial Killer’s Daughter #3)

‘Anna, baby. Anna. Open your eyes. Come on.’

My cheek stings. I put a hand to it, opening my eyes. Ross’s face is close to mine.

‘What …?’

‘You fainted.’

I’ve experienced some truly stressful situations, but never come close to passing out.

‘I’ll call the doctor,’ Ross says, already scrolling through his mobile.

‘No. No need. Please don’t make a fuss.’ I swing my legs off the sofa and push myself into a sitting position.

DI Walker doesn’t appear to have moved from his spot.

I wonder how many people he’s broken news like this to in the past. I’d hope not many, but if his demeanour is anything to go by, he’s certainly not fazed.

He shifts now, and his dark eyebrows knit together to create a long, caterpillar-like line.

I get the impression that he thinks my reaction has only served to waste his time.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ I say. Heat rises up my neck and I rub my fingers over it, making it worse.

‘As I say, I’m sure it’s come as a shock. But I really do need to ask some questions. Like your husband said, we have four days until Henry is likely to strike again. Any assistance you can offer will be greatly appreciated.’

‘Of course.’ I glance at the time on my phone.

‘I’ll try not to keep you long,’ DI Walker says, his voice clipped. ‘I’d hate to make you late for work.’

‘Oh, I’m … it’s not …’ Great. Now he thinks I’m not taking the threat to a woman’s life seriously enough – that I’m more bothered about getting to work on time.

‘As long as it takes, Detective Walker.’ I force a smile, pushing my shoulders back.

‘Ross, darling,’ I say, turning to him. ‘Maybe you could make us all a cup of coffee, please.’

Ross hesitates but nods and gets up. I wait for him to leave the lounge before speaking.

‘You say Henry’s wanted in connection with murders from the past three years. What about previous years? I mean, why has he started now?’

‘I was hoping you’d be able to enlighten me on that score.’

‘Henry hasn’t been in contact with me for …’ I screw up my eyes, trying to calculate the time, ‘… I don’t know, must be fifteen, sixteen years, maybe more. I honestly thought you were here to tell me he’d died.’

‘The fact is, he’s killing on those specific dates for a reason. His sister’s birthday is meaningful to him and I suspect he’s sending a clear message by committing murder on that day.’ DI Walker cocks one eyebrow. ‘As in, I think he’s communicating directly with you.’

‘Most people pick up the phone. Or email, or something.’ I laugh, awkwardly.

‘Unless …’ DI Walker pulls at his tie. ‘I don’t mean to alarm you, Mrs Price – but I think we need to consider that you could be in danger. If you say you’re estranged, it might be he didn’t know where you lived, or how to get into contact with you before.’

‘Well, if he’s keeping an eye on the investigation, he’ll likely know now, won’t he? You’ve led him straight to my door.’ My tone is heavy with accusation, but I don’t care. How stupid to come here if that’s what he thinks. Unless that was his intention, of course.

Ross walks in and sets three mugs on the coffee table. ‘Led who to our door?’

‘Henry, obviously,’ I snap. Ross quickly lowers his gaze from mine. ‘Sorry, babe. But this is all mad. I can’t believe it’s happening.’ I pull my fingers through my hair.

‘I can assure you we’ve been meticulous in our investigation so far and if Henry has found out your location, it’s not through us.

’ DI Walker picks up his mug and I inwardly wince as he takes several large gulps of the steaming liquid.

‘The records at the children’s home in Sutton Coldfield where you and Henry were resident were destroyed before it closed its doors for good.

It took us quite some time to work out Henry had a sister, and of course, you’ve since married and changed your name.

It’s safe to say Henry is already a number of steps ahead of us – he likely knew where you lived prior to this morning. ’

‘Oh, God,’ Ross says, sitting down. ‘You think my wife is in danger from her own brother?’

‘I’m not ruling it out, is what I’m saying.’

I frown, my mind latching on to an obvious flaw in his thinking. ‘But, as my birthday’s already passed this year, surely I’m safe?’

‘That’s a possibility, yes, but I’m afraid we can’t assume that,’ DI Walker says. ‘There’s nothing to stop him targeting you on the other date.’

I lock eyes with DI Walker as I respond. ‘And that’s why it’s important for you to know the relevance of the other date – because it would shed light on his motives? Maybe point you in the direction of his next victim?’

Even as I’m saying these words, my mind wants to reject the notion that we’re talking about victims – about murder victims – in relation to Henry.

Maybe it’s a huge mistake and the detective will return later to apologise for the misinformation, saying they got it all wrong and it was a terrible mix-up. A case of mistaken identity.

‘Yes. If we knew what significance it held for Henry, we might stand a chance of catching him before he takes another innocent woman’s life.

’ He falls silent, looking suddenly weary.

Maybe the case is taking more of a toll on him than he’s letting on.

He moves closer to me; so close I can feel heat coming off him.

I shrink back, the proximity uncomfortable, but he’s still close enough that I can smell the coffee clutching to his breath as he speaks again.

‘It’s not a date you recognise? Your parents’ birth dates—’

‘I can guarantee you it’s nothing to do with them ,’ I say, cutting him off.

‘Oh? How can you be so certain?’

‘You must know some of the background, surely?’

‘We know Henry had a difficult time at the home, was in numerous scraps with other children, some of which resulted in minor criminal charges being brought against him. Your mother is listed as deceased, having died from liver disease—’

‘Yes, thank you for the summary. She was an alcoholic and drug user who’d do anything for a quick fix of either.

She had no clue where our father was, or even who he was, and she’d sleep with anything with a heartbeat.

She neglected her own children, put bullying, abusive men ahead of their wellbeing.

She let them suffer. Henry neither knew, nor cared, when her bloody birthday was.

So, like I said, the significance of the thirteenth of May has nothing to do with them. ’

Years of compartmentalised outrage bubbles beneath the surface.

Every now and then something triggers a memory of my childhood, dredging up the trauma of how we were treated, but I’m careful to push it away, not dwell on it.

If I give any tiny seed of anger room to germinate, there’s no telling how rapidly it’ll grow; how much damage it’ll do.

I wonder if Henry allowed his to take root and take over.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised about what I’ve just learned.

Broken people can do broken things.

DI Walker lets out a long sigh, then stands. ‘I’ll want to speak with you again, Mrs Price. The police station would be more appropriate – and given the urgency, sooner rather than later. I’ll get my DS to arrange—’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ I say, standing.

I swallow hard as thoughts I haven’t had in years begin swarming into my mind.

Surprise registers on both the detective’s and Ross’s face.

DI Walker narrows his eyes and I realise I need to give a valid reason.

‘If Henry is keeping an eye on the investigation, don’t you think it’d be best not to make it clear to him that you’re involving me?

He isn’t going to try and make contact if he keeps seeing police here, or realises you’ve taken me to the station, is he? ’

DI Walker looks at me. He’s difficult to read, but I sense he’s weighing up what I’ve said.

‘Fine. For now, I’ll let you get on.’ He reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out a small, white card.

‘Here are my details. You must call if you hear from Henry or if you’re worried about your safety.

And if there’s anything else that comes to mind, however irrelevant you think it is, and even if it’s two in the morning, call.

I want to know.’ He presses the card into my palm, then locks his gaze on me.

‘I don’t want to be knocking on someone’s door in four days’ time telling them their wife, mother, sister or daughter has been brutally murdered.

’ The intensity of his voice sends a shiver down my back.

He nods towards Ross, who blinks rapidly before shaking himself free of his trance.

‘What are you going to do? About Anna, I mean. Will she have protection?’ Ross’s voice is filled with panic.

‘We’ll be keeping a close eye—’

‘That’s vague,’ Ross says, his voice sharp. ‘What does that even mean?’

‘Ross, love,’ I say, laying my hand on his arm. ‘If Henry had wanted to harm me, he’d have done so already.’

DI Walker is at the front door, but he turns to offer a reassuring smile. I’m not sure it’s enough for my husband.

‘But he said you could be in danger.’ Ross directs his hissed words to me.

For some reason, I’m not feeling as worried for my safety as Ross is.

Is it the shock? Maybe I’m numbed by the news.

A part of me doesn’t believe what the detective told me – surely it’s not possible that Henry could kill five women?

How sure is he that it’s the same Henry Lincoln they’re after?

‘I strongly suggest you remain alert, observe your surroundings at all times and report anything out of the ordinary. Like I said – call at any time. And if the resources are available, I’ll get an officer posted outside.’

I open my mouth to question this, given what I’ve just said, but DI Walker pre-empts it, adding, ‘Covertly, obviously.’

Placated for now, Ross shows the detective out.

I stand in the doorway, my muscles rigid as I watch DI Walker speaking to a group of uniformed officers directly outside our house. What are they talking about? Me? Henry? Is Detective Walker asking them to remain stationed right there on the pavement?

‘Let’s get back in,’ Ross says, disappearing from my side. DI Walker finishes whatever he’s saying, and I follow his progression until he walks out of my line of sight. A policeman catches my gaze and before I think it through, I stomp towards him.

‘Do you have to all congregate here?’ My tone is unintentionally sharp, so I offer a smile to soften it.

‘Only it’s likely to attract a lot of attention, surely?

’ The policeman I’m aiming my question at merely shrugs, but a woman steps through them and approaches me.

She’s dressed in plain clothes, like DI Walker, so I assume she’s a detective too.

‘Sorry, ma’am,’ she says. ‘I’m Detective Tully, part of the investigating team.

’ Her smile is warm and genuine; she exudes compassion and I wish it’d been her who’d delivered the bombshell about Henry, not DI Walker.

‘We’ve been carrying out door-to-door enquiries but we’re almost done in this area so the officers won’t be here much longer.

I realise this all must be very unsettling. ’

‘Yes, it is, quite,’ I say. ‘I know you’re only doing your job, but as I said to Detective Walker, Henry isn’t likely to show his face with all this police presence, is he?’ I cast my gaze around, as if I might see him lurking among them.

‘I’ll move them on, ma’am, don’t worry.’ She gives me a nod, then turns to address the officers and like a swarm of bees, they gradually progress down the street and begin to disperse to their various vehicles.

Once I’m satisfied they’re gone, I stride back inside, go back to the kitchen and look at the card the detective gave me.

The thought that all the activity is because of Henry causes pins and needles to prickle my fingertips.

If what they’re saying about Henry is true, I cannot afford to become embroiled in whatever mess he’s created – I need to stay as far away from this investigation as possible.

I press the lid of the pedal bin and place the detective’s card into it.