Rippercide

Peter Hodgson

Description

His perverted desire is to become the world's most infamous murderer. A popular seaside resort becomes his stalking ground. When the bodies of young women are discovered mutilated, detectives begin their hunt for a deranged copycat killer.Private detective Jim Sheridan is pulled from the brink of retirement when he learns of his daughter's brutal murder. When fellow investigators Carl Lewis and Becky Watts join forces with him, suspects begin to emerge. The focus of the investigation is derailed as Sheridan's past comes back to haunt him.While the police follow traditional lines of enquiry in their search for a forensically aware criminal, Sheridan and Becky grapple with obscure clues gleaned from other sources.Piece by piece the clues start to make sense.As the police eventually close in on their prime suspect, Becky follows her intuition in an attempt to solve the mystery of the killer's identity.And the nightmare begins . . .

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: Pneuma Springs Publishing
• Date de parution: 05 juin 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781782283515
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Rippercide




Peter Hodgson
Copyright

First Published in 2014 by: Pneuma Springs Publishing Rippercide Copyright © 2014 Peter Hodgson Peter Hodgson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as Author of this Work British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Mobi eISBN: 9781782283485 ePub eISBN: 9781782283515 PDF eBook eISBN: 9781782283546 Paperback ISBN: 9781782283454 Pneuma Springs Publishing E: [e-mail] W: www.pneumasprings.co.uk Published in the United Kingdom. All rights reserved under International Copyright Law. Contents and/or cover may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written consent of the publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, save those clearly in the public domain, is purely coincidental
Dedication


For my friends and colleagues in C&MSD
ONE
Lucy Beckett’s anger was swelling as she waited by the road. The cold January rain was bouncing off the pavements and slow-moving traffic. She paced up and down, staying beneath the swaying canopy of a tree.
For a moment she thought he had arrived. A vehicle slowed down, then carried on. The next one pulled up. The driver leaned across the passenger seat and wound the window down. ‘Hey! Do you want a lift anywhere?’
‘ Who are you?’ she asked, peering through the open window.
‘ I'm heading for the motorway. I’ll drop you off anywhere you like. Get in.’
She stepped back, shaking her head. The man wound up the window and drove off. Lucy was beginning to feel uneasy. She decided to go home if he failed to turn up within the next ten minutes.
Why did I bother doing this? she thought, clasping the white plastic bag with one hand whilst digging the other deeper into her coat pocket for more comfort. The rain was seeping through her clothes. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her coat.
There was a break in the traffic. A minute later a car approached, its headlights flashing. She breathed a sigh of relief when it stopped.
‘ Lucy?’
‘ About time too,’ she said, entering the car, glad to feel the warmth. ‘I'm soaked to the skin.’ Lucy gave him a long, direct look. He jerked the car into gear, turned full circle and headed in the opposite direction.
‘ I've got the cassettes and one or two other things,’ Lucy said. ‘I borrowed them a couple of months back.’
‘ Well, I expect he'll be wanting to listen to them again. Good of you to bring them, though. He's hoping to speak to you sometime.’
He touched her leg.
‘ I told him I didn't want to see him again,’ she responded. ‘I nearly gave him the push a while ago. He hardly goes anywhere, doesn't want to do anything. I can't weigh him up at all.’
Using one hand the driver fumbled for a cigarette and managed to light it.
He stopped the car at a narrow tunnel-bridge, allowing an oncoming vehicle to pass through. Lucy gulped a couple of deep breaths. She wondered where they were going but decided to wait a while before asking.
He slammed his foot on the accelerator and shot a quick glance at her. ‘You must be quite bored . . . Are you? . . . Fed up with life, I mean.’
‘ Not really, no.’ This guy's acting a bit strange, she thought. She glanced at his scruffy jeans and ruffled T-shirt. He was unshaven and carried a pot belly. Dark hairs ran the length of his arms. His white, soft-looking hands swept round the steering wheel as he swung the car into another road.
There was silence for a few minutes. Lucy was curious. ‘Are you married?’ she asked.
‘ Never been married. I've had a few girlfriends but they always seem to move on.’
The car struggled up a hill, its engine sputtering. Rain still pouring. Street lights less frequent.
‘ I guess I'll never make it. I don't get on with women. Just my bad luck, I suppose. He'll be pretty gutted if you leave him now. How long was it? Three months?’ He touched her leg again. This time it was a hard prod. ‘I said, how long were you seeing him for?’
‘ It was a bit longer, actually.’
The car came to a sudden halt. He hurriedly got out and went into The Late Shop. The engine was idling noisily. The hot air blowing on her feet was a comfort. A few minutes passed by. Lucy tossed the bag of music cassettes over her shoulder and heard a sharp noise as it hit the gardening spade on the back seat. She turned to see what had caused the noise. Lucy didn't attach any importance to the spade. She picked up a magazine which was lying there also. What's this? she thought, flicking through the pages of a disgusting porn magazine called Anal Poke .
‘ I needed some more cigarettes,’ he said, getting into the car. ‘Here, take one.’ He drove on. Lucy shook her head. ‘Take one,’ he repeated, his voice loud, almost angry.
‘ I don't want one, alright?’ she said angrily. ‘That's a sick magazine you've got in the back.’
‘ It's one of his,’ he said, lighting another cigarette. ‘He's got dozens of mags like that, and worse too.’
‘ Well I didn't notice any porn in his flat.’
One thing she did notice - they were travelling along a deserted country road on the outskirts of town. Street lights and houses were no longer to be seen. Tunnels of white light from the car's headlamps lit up the road ahead. The rain had turned into drizzle.
Her heart was beating faster.
‘ Where are you taking me? I want to go home.’ He ignored her. ‘Look, this isn't fair. I asked you a question and you haven't answered me.’
The car picked up speed. She eyed him with suspicion and grabbed his wrist.
‘ Where are we going?’ she asked angrily.
He shook his hand to release her grip. The car swerved. ‘Questions and answers. That's all you're interested in, girlie. Just keep quiet. Keep your mouth shut. There's a wood at Plymbey. That's where we're going, if you must know.’
‘ Okay, take me there if it makes you feel any better.’
He looked at her and grinned. She thought he was deranged. The best thing to do was to go along with it; after all, she had no idea what sort of person he might turn out to be. If she kept calm maybe everything would be all right. Perhaps it was a harmless prank. Lucy was looking forward to getting back home to the warmth of the fire and the company of one of her friends. For now, she had to act wisely as they journeyed deeper into black country. The ‘filthy’ magazine didn't bother her much but she began to wonder what the spade was for.
The car slowed down to a crawl as it passed over a narrow humpback bridge. The Plymbey signpost came into view. Plymbey had a quaint church and woodland. It was a great place to visit in the summer. Lucy had no time for quaint places, day or night, but she would do anything to get out of danger.
‘ I'll have that fag now if you don't mind,’ she said, pressing herself into the seat, trying to relax. ‘Come on, then.’
He turned the car into a narrow lane. A solitary street light stood at its entrance, flickering intermittently. The nearby wood was enveloped by an unforgiving darkness.
The car came to a halt.
‘ I suppose you know what this is all about,’ he said, offering her the cigarette. ‘I hope you don't mind us coming here.’
She took the cigarette and placed it between her lips. The flame from his lighter created a tiny island of light. His face came closer to hers, his cold blue eyes staring at her as she inhaled deeply, trying not to look scared. Maybe he'd settle for a quick J Arthur, she thought. That wouldn't be a problem. She had done things in her life that she was not proud of: mucky, sleazy, even filthy things. She was a townie and had done the rounds, but she was scared now.
She could smell the stink of his sweaty armpits as he turned the heater off. The drizzle had stopped. A tree-branch rattled ominously against the bonnet.
‘ I'm going for a leak,’ he said. ‘You stay there.’
He got out of the car and tapped its roof as he walked towards the boot. Lucy finished her smoke and unfastened the remaining buttons on her thick coat. Now was the time to get this over with - whatever it was he wanted.
She waited a while, wondering what he was doing.
‘ What on earth is going on?’ she shouted.
There was no sign of him. She reached over to see if the keys were in the ignition.
No keys.
He opened the car boot. She heard a metallic clink, then he came back, a dark shape appearing by the driver's door. Lucy got out of the car and walked briskly towards the road. It was time to leave. Her temper was up, her guard was down. He ran after her - his heart pounding with excitement - and struck her with a large spanner. Lucy slumped onto the muddy ground, her senses numbed with the force of the blow.
‘ Where were you going? Get up you hussy. Now.’
‘ Leave me alone, don't hurt me . . . please,’ she whimpered.
The moon momentarily peeped from behind a cloud. He looked up at the sky, then smirked at her. She tried to get up, grabbing his legs for support. He delivered a second blow and dragged her closer to the vehicle.
She drifted in and out of consciousness. Her blood, warm against her skin, trickled onto the wet soil. He wrapped his arms around the body, heaving her back onto her feet before releasing her. Kneeling beside the body, he lowered his head and sank his teeth into her cheek. The ecstasy of her suffering was arousing him.
Now she had succumbed to his power, to his will.
The knife.
He opened the driver's door and took the knife from under the seat. The girl was merely an object to him now, waiting to be destroyed. He drove a savage kick into the side of her head and resumed his kneeling position next to the helpless girl. He squeezed her breasts hard, hating her, cursing her. He grasped the knife, ripped her jumper, blouse and b