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“Looks like he’s got to her as well. I wonder if she found out about him and was going to drop him?” Tony Bullars broke the silence.

“The bastard. His own bloody mother. The evil bastard.” Grace seemed to stumble over her words. “I need some fresh air.”

She trotted down the stairs and made her way to the back door, stepping out into the fine rain. She leaned her shoulders back against the house wall and took in deep gulps of air.

“How could he? I mean all those people and now his own Mother.” she spat out.

Hunter joined her. “You okay Grace? This is not like you.”

“Things have just caught up with me Hunter. It’s been a long couple of months with very little break and now this.” She pushed herself back off the wall. “I want to personally nick this twisted bastard Hunter,” she announced quite loudly. “Want to look him in the eye, take a leaf out of Barry’s book — hope he puts up a fight so I can give the bastard some of what he deserves.” Her bottom lip quivered as she fought back the rage. She took a deep breath. “But we’ve dealt with his type all the time, haven’t we Hunter. When they come up against someone who’s a match they totally bottle it. They’re wimps and cowards. And I bet this pervert’s just the same.”

“You finished venting your spleen now, because we’ve got work to do.”

“Yeah, I feel better after that,” Grace answered giving him a wan smile as she turned to go back into the house.

* * * * *

He wanted to ring that fucking woman detective’s neck — just like his mother’s. Saying things like that about him.

I’m not a wimp and a coward and I’m certainly not a pervert. I’ll show her.

He slunk back into the bushes away from the officer’s gaze.

He had only just managed to hide. The police’s arrival had completely taken him by surprise. He had been in the shed looking for some sacking to take his mother’s body away and bury, now that it was starting to smell, when he had heard the cars screeching up to the front of the house.

He knew that sound could only mean one thing. It confirmed in his mind that he had been right to do what he had done. Before he had ended his mother’s miserable life she must have telephoned the police and tipped them off about him. What had she said to him?

“Enough is enough.” Those were her words.

I knew she had, that’s why she had to die.

By rights he knew he should have punished her a long time ago.

How could she betray me after all this time? I’d only let her live this long because she had helped me.

How many times had she washed his bloodstained clothing without question?

It wasn’t just my secret. It was our little secret. It was the only thing we actually shared together since that day she caused my dad to leave.

When he had seen the armed police smash down the door and then watched them all scuttle inside to search he had decided it was time to make himself scarce. He was about to emerge from the bushes at the bottom of the garden when that black lady detective and her colleague had come out, and she had started to slag him off. She was just like all the others.

He had intended to call it a day and leave the area now that he had been found out but he knew he had one more job to do before he left.

She has to be taught a lesson. She can’t say those things about me without being punished.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

DAY THIRTY-SIX: 11th August.

Grace cupped her mug of hot coffee in both hands staring at the small TV screen in her kitchen. The sound was on low but she could still pick out the words of Detective Superintendent Michael Robshaw. The local news broadcast was replaying footage from last night’s press conference held at the front of the Wild’s home.

“There has been a significant development with the discovery of the body of an elderly woman, and a post mortem examination will be carried out to determine cause of death,” he was announcing to the world’s press in his best Police speak. “We urgently need to trace and speak with her son Gabriel in relation to this incident.” His face was solemn on camera, though Grace knew that inside he was elated because they finally knew who the serial killer was. Gabriel Wild was on the run.

The next shot was from the air, of the Wild’s rear garden, where a white forensic tent had been erected beside the wooden shed. She knew they had already dug up the remains of Gabriel’s dog. More disturbingly however was the fact that the ground penetrating radar had indicated there was at least one more much larger form buried beneath the flowerbeds. They were expecting to find yet another teenage girl’s body.

Grace flicked off the television set, trotted across the kitchen, snatched up the wall phone, scrolled down the contacts list and hit the speed dial button. She trapped it between her head and shoulder, listening to the ringing tone as she put the finishing touches to the polish on her nails.

“Come on, come on answer” she found herself muttering under her breath. She blew on her sticky nails. She had a lot to do after yesterday’s discovery.

“Hello,” the deep voice, at the other end of the phone, answered.

“Hi dad, it’s me,” she responded and removed the phone from between her head and shoulder, pressing it against her ear.

“Oh, hello Princess.”

Grace found herself screwing up her eyes, again. For though she loved to hear the exaggerated notes in her father’s Jamaican accent, and knew in her own heart that it was just his term of affection towards her, she still cringed when he used the Princess word.

“Dad I wish you wouldn’t still call me Princess, I’m thirty seven years old.”

“You will always be my princess, no matter how old you are.”

Why on earth with the surname Kelly had her father and mother decided to call her Grace she would never know. Over and over she had bemoaned this to herself, from as far back as she could recall. As a young child she had not realised the significance of her name, but as she had got older, upon attending comprehensive school, she had found herself the brunt of so much taunting and mocking. It had been her first experience of prejudice because of her colour.

She shook herself away from her thoughts. “Dad I need a favour. I’ve got to work late again. Something really important has cropped up”

“I know it’s been on this morning’s news.” he interjected.

“Can you pick up the girls from their school and give them their tea. I’ve got them booked into a holiday school sports scheme for this week. I wouldn’t ask you under normal circumstances dad but David’s still trying to sort out his new job so he’s been working late as well.”

“Anytime Princess. You know you don’t need to ask. Me and your mother love having them.”

“Thanks Dad you’re a star.” She didn’t give him time to respond. She knew if she engaged him in any further conversation it would be lengthy. And she just didn’t have time, especially as she had to drop the girls off before she drove in.