Lynda La Plante: Hidden Killers

‘I can’t leave this place open,’ Ada wailed.

Moran ignored her and began to slowly move up the stairs. Spots of blood could be seen, and then as he reached the landing there were blood splatterings against the wall. He pushed open the door and could see the small figure curled on his side, his red hair matted with blood, his face badly beaten, blood bubbles gathered at his open mouth. Moran went over to him. The poor kid was terrified, his eyes wide, and he even tried to ward off Moran.

‘’S’all right, I’m not going to hurt you. Do you know who did this to you? Look at me, come on, I’ve got an ambulance outside. You know who beat you up?’

Ginger started crying and then nodded his head. ‘Big guy… he hit me wiv this thing on a chain. Oh God, he done me head in.’

‘Listen, you are going to be looked after, but tell me why he did this to you.’

Ginger spat out blood as Moran held him upright in a sitting position.

‘Angie, he wanted to know where Angie lives.’

‘Did you tell him?’

‘What you fuckin’ think, he was crazy. I told him.’

It was another few minutes before the boy was able to give Moran the address.

Moran picked the injured boy up in his arms and carried him out.

‘Oh Jesus God, that’s Ginger. Ginger, who would want to do something like that to him, he’s just a kid?’ Ada began screaming in hysterics as Moran carried the boy out into the street to the still waiting ambulance. He spoke urgently to Edwards.

‘We get the car and get over to Janet Brown’s estate. It has to have been Allard. Radio in to Gibbs that we’re on our way.’

Jane got out of the car and slammed the door.

‘I’m going,’ Gibbs said.

‘Fine, Spence, you go, or just wait until I come out and you can take me back to the section house. It’s my day off as well, you know.’

‘It’s not my bloody case,’ he moaned.

He watched her heading up the pathway to the estate entrance. She had the photograph of Janet Brown in her hand. She turned back and gave him a smile as she went in through the main doors. He felt a bit guilty. He knew he wouldn’t drive off and leave her, he was just pissed off at losing almost an entire day off.

Inside Jane stood in the lift and looked at the floor numbered buttons. Floor six did have a burn mark, as if someone had stubbed out a cigarette against it. The lift was rank, smelling of urine, and dried white chewing gum covered the filthy carpet. It moved slowly upwards, clanking and grinding. Once it lurched and she thought it was going to stop, but it continued upwards.

The lift door opened, and Jane stepped out. She headed for the two flats where previously there had been no answer. She rang 615 and waited but there was still no one at home. She moved to flat 620 and was about to ring the doorbell when a thin-faced woman with a trolley bag came towards her.

‘Excuse me, I am trying to contact this woman, she has a young child. Can you look at the photograph? I was told she lived on this floor.’

The woman moved closer and stared at the photograph of Janet Brown.

‘She’s round the corner by the stairwell, go through the doors.’

Jane smiled. ‘Thank you very much.’

‘That’s all right. I live here.’ She took out her keys to flat 620, and Jane moved down the corridor. They had made a mistake, presuming all the flats were located along the landing. They had not considered there was another flat by the stone stairwell.

Jane, annoyed at all the time they had wasted, pushed open the double doors. They had cracked panes of glass and graffiti on them, and where the old carpet stopped there was a stone floor leading onto the stairwell. The flat’s front door was painted green, chipped in places, and the brass letter box was in need of a polish. Jane had her hand on the old bell cemented into the wall. It also had brass surrounds but the button was missing. She put her hand out to push the letter box flap instead of knocking, but the door slowly opened a few inches. She hesitated and gently laid the flat of her hand to open it wider.

Still being very cautious, Jane moved a few steps into the hallway. A child’s pushchair and toys were left on the floor. A large red tin toy double-decker bus lay on its side. The carpet was threadbare but the hallway was clean, an old upright hoover was propped against a wall with a full basket of laundry beside it. Hanging on a hook was the blue rabbit fur coat, and with relief Jane knew she was in the right flat, so she walked more confidently towards an open door that led into the sitting room. It was worn but comfortable, a sofa and an easy chair with a big throw rug in front of an electric three bar fire. Jane was about to call out for Janet, but stopped as she could smell a strong sweet unpleasant smell of body odour.

Allard had seen Jane enter. He was in the kitchen at the far end of the hall, the door open just a crack. He’d beaten the hell out of the ginger-haired kid to get the address and he’d been waiting for Janet. By now, Allard was sweating and hyper, and he eased back towards a cabinet to open a kitchen drawer. It made a scratching sound as it opened and it contained dishcloths and tea towels. He tensed up, listening, and then eased back another drawer that contained kitchen knives.

Jane heard the noise as her heart began pounding. She was sure that someone was in the flat and the fear made her freeze, because she was certain it was Allard. She tried to control her nerves and think where the sound had come from, but as she didn’t know the layout of the flat, she couldn’t be sure. It felt as if she was trapped in the room. She took deep breaths, telling herself that the sound had to have come from the left at the end of the hallway, and she would have to get out of the room and run to her right to escape.

Gibbs lost his attention on the road for a moment, as Moran was on the radio saying they would be there in minutes, so he missed Janet Brown walking into the estate with a bag of shopping, only catching her as she walked into the reception area.

‘Nick, I think I’ve got her, she’s here at the estate,’ Gibbs said into the radio, getting out of the car. He ran into the flats’ entrance as the lift began to move upwards. He looked at the old dial, which didn’t work, unable to tell which floor it was moving to. He pressed the call button again and waited.

Jane had looked around the room for anything she could use as a weapon, but there was nothing. She decided to run for it, and as she got to the hall the kitchen door flew open and Allard came at her, holding the knife up above him, making stabbing motions, and then slashing down towards her body. As she backed into the room, the knife wedged into the wooden door and he began dragging it loose.

When Janet got to her front door she was immediately suspicious as it was half open. She kicked it wider as she heard Jane screaming, and hurled the bag of groceries aside. Allard had his back to her and, turning to face her now with the carving knife free, he switched from attacking Jane and went for Janet. She picked up the old hoover and swung it at him. She didn’t release it, but swung it again and this time it knocked him into the door frame. He was screeching like a crazed animal and Jane came out, kicking at his legs, but he got back up on his feet screaming with rage. Janet now rammed him hard in the groin with the folded child’s buggy. He dropped the knife and yelped in agony. She grabbed the knife and was on top of him, holding it at his throat.

‘You want to know what it feels like, you scum. I’m gonna cut your throat, you bastard.’

Gibbs had done a frantic run, unaware as Jane had been about the flat by the stairwell; he now heard the screams, hurtled through the double doors and ran into the flat. Janet was losing her fight as Allard was able to push her aside – his strength was frightening. It took the three of them to get him down. Gibbs was punching and stamping on his prone body but Allard still attempted to get up. He was clawing at Gibbs and then punched him in the chest and he was by far stronger and starting to stand.