M for Murder, page 21
Besides, this was different. This guy, he’d been watching her, he’d told her so. He needed her help. He’d told her that they were after the same thing. He knew everything about her.
And she realised she knew absolutely nothing about him.
It doesn’t matter. He’s blackmailing you. He’s hardly going to kill you.
She tried to restart the conversation.
‘You didn’t tell me what you do for a living? Do you work at the college? Is that how you know Lawrie and Kylan?’
He glanced at her. ‘You ask a lot of questions.’
‘Well, I hadn’t noticed you, that’s all. If you worked at the college I meant,’ Justine pushed. ‘So, do you?’
‘At the moment… yes. The reason you haven’t noticed me is because in my line of work I have to be very discreet.’
‘Oh,’ Justine mumbled, not really sure what he meant. ‘So how do you know Lawrie and Kylan?’ she asked, trying a different approach.
He gave a knowing smile that made her feel even more uncomfortable. ‘Let’s just say we go back a long way.’
‘I see. Old friends, are you?’ She giggled nervously. ‘Dumb question. I guess you can’t be that close friends if you’re going to help me break them up. Of course, I’m sure you have your reasons.’ As she continued rambling, her mind returned to the murders.
Scott Jagger, Emma Keeley. She remembered the cop who’d been talking to Mandy Tyson in the cafeteria that day, and how at the time she’d wondered what had been going on.
Now of course she knew.
Emma Keeley had been so beautiful alive, and Justine couldn’t help but wonder how she looked dead. A cold, dead corpse. Justine had never seen a dead body before and, thinking about it now, she didn’t ever want to. She tried to push the image of Emma Keeley from her mind and instead turned her thoughts to Rufus Lind, the college clown. His face was clear in her mind: the carrot-red hair, the wide blue eyes. Come to think of it, she could picture all of them clearly in her mind. Scott, Emma and Rufus. Three students, all very different, but all well known around campus. Why had the killer chosen them?
Her mind ventured further back. These weren’t the only murders that had taken place at Juniper College. She vaguely remembered her father talking about the killings that had taken place on the campus a few years back. She hadn’t believed him at the time, thinking that it was just some spook story that he’d made up to scare her. Since she’d been in Juniper, though, she’d realised his stories had been true. Most of her friends on campus knew details of what had happened. How the Alphabet Killer had been a college professor who had stalked and murdered several of his students. How he had selected his victims from the register. Always in alphabetical order. How one of his victims had fought back and left him for dead in a burning house. How the police had never found his body.
Graffiti in the washrooms told of his name: Professor Boone.
And the classroom in the English block, where he had taught, stood empty because the current professors didn’t wish to be tarred with the same brush, and the current students disliked the idea of having lectures in the place where the serial killer had selected his victims.
Justine thought it ironic that, only a few years later, the same college had become the hunting ground for another serial killer. Did he, like the Alphabet Killer, have some weird hang-up?
She thought about his victims again. Scott Jagger, Emma Keeley and Rufus Lind. Jagger, Keeley, Lind. J, K, L.
It was just a bizarre coincidence, wasn’t it? Then she remembered that the police had found five victims, but two of them still hadn’t been named. What if the unnamed victims had initials M and N? That meant that a person with the initial O was to be the next intended victim.
O for Orton. Justine Orton.
‘You all fit the profile of the killer’s next victim.’
She cast her mind back, trying to remember some of the other students who had been in the hall. Mary Osborne, Judy O’Brien, Keith Ottinger. They all matched the next victim’s profile because they all had the same initial.
The initial O.
Justine had to bite down on the sickness that rose suddenly. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead. This wasn’t possible, was it? She couldn’t be the killer’s next victim. And this man in the driver’s seat beside her, he wasn’t a killer. He needed her. He’d told her so.
He needed her to help him and in return he would help her to get Lawrie. Wouldn’t he?
Thinking about it, he hadn’t specifically told her that he was going to help her get Lawrie. Only that they both wanted something that was at the moment unobtainable to them. What if she had misread him? What if it wasn’t Kylan Parker he wanted?
‘Where are we going?’ she asked, swallowing down hard on the bile rising in her throat.
He looked at her, acknowledged she’d spoken, but didn’t answer.
Justine drew in a shaky breath; tried to calm her shaking nerves. ‘Please! Where are we going?’ she asked. ‘You still haven’t told me.’
The man gave an irritated sigh. ‘Haven’t you figured it out yet, Justine?’
‘Figured what out?’
‘You’re the next one on the list.’
‘What list?’ she asked, disbelieving. ‘What are you…?’
‘I lied to you back in the diner,’ he said, interrupting her. ‘I had to get you by yourself and I knew you wouldn’t come willingly.’ He looked at her again and this time seemed for the first time to really notice she was there.
Justine was aware of the Buick increasing speed and it passed through her mind that she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. They might crash if he didn’t return his attention to the road.
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ He shook his head angrily. ‘I’m talking about the Alphabet Killer, Justine. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you? You’ve got the playing card. You’re going to be the next victim.’
Justine looked into his eyes and knew that he wasn’t kidding. She turned away, her mind in a spin as she tried to figure out what the hell she was going to do.
You’d better come up with something quick. He’s planning on killing you.
A bend appeared in the road ahead, and the Buick began to brake sharply. With no time to think, she pushed down the handle of the door with shaking fingers and shoved it open.
Without looking back, she jumped.
After she’d jumped from his car, he’d pulled over to the side of the road and given chase, believing that he would catch her easily. Although the water-filled ditch where she’d landed had softened her fall, she had still appeared to be limping badly. But he was wrong. They were in thick woods and there were plenty of places for her to hide. Eventually he’d had to give up the hunt and return to his Buick alone.
He knew he should have panicked. She’d seen his face and would be able to give a good description of him to the cops. If they found him out now, he would never be able to complete the job. Somehow, though, he didn’t think that Justine Orton would be picking up the phone and dialling 911. She knew that he knew things about her that no one else did. Maybe only little things, but things, nonetheless, that she wouldn’t want to be spread around. If she told the cops what happened, she would have to tell them what she was doing in the car with him in the first place, and then everyone would find out about Lawrie and her obsessive crush.
He suspected that Justine Orton would rather keep quiet than suffer any kind of embarrassment.
He had really lucked out that night, seeing her break into Lawrie and Kylan Parker’s house.
Of course, he had gone there in the hope of seeing Kylan and, realising she was out, he had been on the verge of returning to the campus. Two minutes later and he would never have seen the skinny girl with the cropped hair sneaking into the backyard.
It hadn’t taken him long to put two and two together.
She wasn’t a thief. Any doubts he’d had on that front vanished when he watched her emerge from the house half an hour later, empty-handed. That had made him all the more curious to know what she was doing breaking in. After he had watched her open the envelope that contained the joker playing card the previous afternoon, he had paid a visit to her room, looking for leverage to use to get her alone. The doodles on the inside cover of one of her notebooks and the picture of Lawrie Parker cut from one of the student papers soon confirmed his suspicions that Justine Orton had a little crush on her English professor, and he realised that the best way to her would probably be to use a little blackmail.
His plan had worked well, and he’d successfully managed to get her alone. What he hadn’t counted on was her throwing herself from his car, and he certainly hadn’t counted on losing her. Whatever happened, he had to get her back.
Justine Orton had the card. She had to be the fifteenth victim.
Playing on a hunch that she would go straight back to the campus, he swung his Buick around and headed in the direction of Juniper College.
Justine Orton unlocked the door to her room just after midnight. With it being so dark, she didn’t see the figure sitting, waiting patiently for her on the edge of her bed, not until she had actually stepped into the room and closed the door. She flicked the light switch on and gasped loudly.
‘Hello, Justine.’
Justine drew a deep breath, feeling her heartbeat quicken, as her eyes darted to the black-and-green check tie pulled taut in the gloved hands. The tie she had stolen.
She took a step back and crashed into the door. Whirling round, she clenched the doorknob with both hands. Before she could pull it open, one of the gloved hands grabbed hold of her by the arm and wrenched her back into the room.
She stumbled to the floor, landing on her knees, and cried out loudly in pain.
Oh my God! This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
But as she saw the black and green tie drop down in front of her eyes, then felt it wrap tightly around her throat, Justine Orton realised that she was wrong.
28
Monday 5th May 1997
He watched them from the car. The three of them walking side by side, hips swaying, books under their arms, the slight breeze playing with their hair.
The brunette, the tallest of the three, was in the middle, the redhead to her right, the blonde to her left.
He watched them walk from the building where they’d just had their last class, heading for the cafeteria, probably to grab a quick drink before their next lecture began, and wondered if he dare chance going inside himself. Maybe buy a coffee, sit in the corner, try not to stand out, and watch.
He had watched all three of them now for the last couple of weeks. The brunette, Alison McClaine and the redhead, Donna Randall, had been a pleasant way to pass the time. Alison was tall and curvy, Donna, petite, but nicely packaged. Both wore their hair long and he liked how when they walked it bounced from side to side, just like they were in a shampoo commercial.
The blonde though was the reason for his watching them in the first place and, now that Justine Orton was dead, it was important that he keep track of her every movement. Alison and Donna were just extra perks of the job.
He watched them disappear inside the block that housed the cafeteria and debated. The way he figured it he had two choices. One, he could sit in his car and wait until they came out, probably only to watch them disappear into some other building; or two, he could go inside, but risk being seen. Definitely a risk, but a worthwhile one at that. He debated for a short moment then, snatching the keys from the ignition, he opened the car door and stepped out.
Kylan had the feeling that she was being watched.
Ever since the guy from the grocery store had appeared at her kitchen window, she had been spooked and, at regular intervals over the past week she had looked over her shoulder, half expecting to see him standing there watching her. He hadn’t been there though, and she wondered how come this time she was so certain she was right.
Sixth sense maybe, but grocery store guy or not, someone was definitely watching her.
Feeling self-conscious, she flicked a strand of hair away from her eyes and glanced cautiously around the cafeteria. She saw a lot of students she recognised. A couple of professors were deep in discussion on the far side of the room. No one was looking at her and there was nothing that should have alerted her suspicion. Still, she felt uneasy.
‘Hey, Kylan, what do you think?’
Interrupted from her thoughts, Kylan was aware of Ally waving a hand in front of her face.
‘Huh, what?’ she asked. ‘What do I think about what?’
Ally glanced at Donna and gave a playful smile. ‘Looks like someone’s been on vacation.’
Donna nodded and then looked at Kylan, her brows knitting together in concern.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, sure, why wouldn’t I be?’
‘I dunno. You looked kind of out of it.’
‘Did I?’ Kylan screwed up her nose, deciding to come clean. ‘I thought someone was watching me.’
‘Who?’ Ally and Donna both asked in unison, turning to look over their shoulders.
‘Stop it!’ Kylan hissed. ‘I was wrong, okay? There’s nobody there.’
She hoped she was right.
Ally looked back at her. ‘You have been really jumpy recently. What makes you think someone is watching you?’
Kylan shrugged, feeling a little stupid. ‘I don’t know. I guess I must be getting paranoid.’
‘Just a little.’
‘Must be the stress of married life,’ Ally teased, a wide grin spreading across her face.
Kylan played along. ‘Yeah, I guess that’s what it is.’
‘I reckon you’re probably on edge because of the murders,’ Donna told her. ‘Everyone’s a little freaked by what’s going on. It’s only natural to get paranoid. Especially after what happened with Catherine.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Kylan agreed, eager to drop the subject.
The murders were something that she really didn’t feel comfortable discussing. All three of them had shared classes with Catherine Maloney and they’d often socialised with her on nights out. Kylan was surprised at how well Donna and Ally were taking the news of her death.
They had only found out late Friday afternoon when Donna had bumped into Catherine’s roommate, Beth, as she was coming out of the Dean’s office, tears streaming down her face. As soon as she learned the news, she had immediately called both Ally and Kylan. All of them knew that Catherine had met a guy called Aidan a couple of weeks back and Kylan had listened to the news, her heart pounding in her chest, as Donna told her how the last time Beth had seen her roommate, she was supposed to have been going on a date with him. It seemed that Catherine had told her not to expect her back in a hurry, but while Beth had thought she was off having a good time with Aidan, her friend’s body was lying in the sewer.
Apparently, the police had already established that Aidan hadn’t killed Catherine Maloney. The intern had been working a late shift and had dozens of witnesses who could verify his whereabouts. While at the moment nobody was sure what had happened, they all knew it was because of her rashness and ill-judgement that Catherine Maloney had ended up dead.
Kylan wondered what her friends would say if she told them about the grocery store guy. About how he’d showed up outside her house the week before last and stared through the window at her. A shiver ran down her spine as she thought about it.
Was he a killer?
What would Donna and Ally say after knowing what had happened to Catherine? Would they take her fears seriously?
Kylan knew she was being stupid. He was probably harmless. She had, after all, only seen him a couple of times. Besides, if she did tell her friends about him, they would probably make her tell Lawrie, and that was something she didn’t want to do.
Over the past week, since she’d had time to adjust to what had happened, she had decided it best that he didn’t know about the guy. Firstly, she knew he was busy and didn’t think it fair to burden him with something that was probably completely trivial. They had both experienced enough of her paranoia over the last few years. Lawrie had just settled into his job and there was no way she was going to give him the additional worry that she thought she might be losing her mind.
Aside from that, she was also scared of how he would react. Although much of the time he was calm and placid, Kylan knew that when really provoked Lawrie had a terrible temper. She had only seen him get mad a couple of times since they’d been together and fortunately neither time had been directed at her. She didn’t believe he was capable of being mad at her and she was glad. His temper was vicious, and she wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end.
The one thing she didn’t need was him going after grocery store guy and getting into trouble. They’d both already had their fair share of that.
He sat on the far side of the room; his face hidden behind a copy of the student newspaper that he’d bought on the way in. She hadn’t seen him; he was sure of that. A couple of times she had glanced round the room and on one occasion both Alison and Donna had also looked, but evidently they’d been satisfied that no one was watching them, and they’d once again become engrossed in conversation. Even Kylan, who looked more than a little jumpy, had joined in and eventually started to relax.
He too relaxed behind his paper as he sipped his acidic coffee and watched.
After ten minutes the three girls got up, cleared their cups away and left the room. He gave them a thirty-second head start then, not bothering to clear away his own cup, he followed. As he crossed the cafeteria, he caught sight of Kylan through one of the large windows. Alison and Donna were no longer with her, and she was heading towards one of the older buildings on the campus.
Licking his dry lips, he stepped through the swing door and started to follow her.
