Jams Roses - Son of a Serial Killer

For the time being, Ben still had control of his mind for fairly long periods, and he needed to make the most of his sanity.

It was morning, Ben had collected Natalie from home and they had driven into town. He was going to see the solicitor to fill out any necessary forms and collect the inheritance from his father.

Natalie said she wanted to look at baby clothes and maybe pick out an outfit for their wedding, which she had decided should take place at a registry office. Waiting for a decent church could take too long, and neither of them came from large families and they weren’t religious, so she reasoned it was the better option.

Ben accepted her plans with a nod and dropped her off by the high street before driving five minutes up the road, closer to the solicitor’s office.

Natalie grabbed a few items of baby clothes from the first shop she went to, not much heart-felt consideration went into her purchases, just enough care to make it seem she cared. She bought whites and yellows, colours that would suit either a boy or a girl, because clearly, she didn’t yet know what sex her fictitious baby would turn out to be.

As she came out of the shop she looked both ways along the street, searching for the real reason she had come into town today, a pharmacy.

Before entering, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and took a moment to get into character.

Inside the store, she saw two of the three employees were available and decided which would be better suited to answer the questions she had. She ignored the older man, and opted for the younger woman, maybe in her late twenties and wearing some nice make-up, Natalie knew that she could relate to her.

She told the pharmacist that she had a friend, who thinks that she may have had a miscarriage, as she had a little bleeding in her underwear.

‘Is that likely to be a miscarriage?’ she asked. ‘What other signs would there be?’

The smile disappeared from the young pharmacists face, and turned into a face of concern.

She explained that bleeding could be a sign of miscarriage, or spontaneous abortion (SAB), but that a little bleeding happened in around one in four pregnancies. If the bleeding were to arrive and then be followed by abdominal pain, lower back pain or pelvic pressure, these were signs that her friend should be wary of. The best thing would be for her friend to see her practitioner, who would organise an ultrasound to see what’s going on inside.

On the surface, Natalie still paid attention to the helpful woman, but inside her head were just a few words going round and round.

‘Bleeding, abdominal pain, lower back pain, pelvic pressure, bleeding, abdominal pain…’

Natalie checked her watch and acted alarmed.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she interrupted. ‘I’m going to be late for an appointment, thank you so much for your help. Have a good day.’

She turned and exited the pharmacy, happy that she had the information she’d been looking for.

Ben sat in the swanky office of his father’s solicitor. He finished the coffee the secretary had made for him and placed the cup back onto the saucer.

The house, along with a smaller amount of money had been left directly to Mrs Green, it should eventually be sold, with the proceeds to fund her stay in a good care home, which was for Ben to organise, explained the solicitor, as per his father’s wishes.

Ben, having received over eighty per cent of the valuation of the will, wasn’t expected to spend his life looking after his mother, just to make sure she wasn’t left alone to spiral further into the depths of madness.

But Ben had his own ideas with regards to what was best for his mother.

The solicitor offered Ben the name of a counsellor, someone who he could talk to about the sudden windfall he had just received. Apparently, people who’d never had an abundance of money in their lives, often lost or wasted any unexpected inheritance or lottery win that they came into, and ended back on square one, financially speaking, as they just weren’t prepared for being rich.

Ben knew this wouldn’t be a problem for him, and flatly turned down the offer. Even if Ben had plans to make the money last, the solicitor and the counsellor were probably in cahoots, sharing any money wasted on them by the newly-rich.

Other than that, the transfer of funds only really needed a signature and a photocopy of his identification made. The money was wired directly into the account Ben had chosen and given the solicitor details of, and would normally be available to Ben within days.

Ben stood and shook hands with the man, dressed sharp in a tailored suit, probably a Saville Row. On a normal day, maybe Ben would feel inferior wearing his denim jeans and plain white tee shirt, but not today, today was a day of change.

The solicitor once again gave his condolences for Ben’s loss, and wished him a happier future. Ben accepted the man’s kind words with grace, and thanked the receptionist on his way out of the office.

Tanya Reynolds sat in an interview room with Summers.

Summers would have preferred her own office, as Tanya wasn’t a suspect and the grim looking interview room wasn’t the proper environment to help make a heavily pregnant woman who had just lost her husband to a brutal murder feel comfortable, but the walls were covered in photographs and diagrams of dead bodies, crimes scenes and possible murder weapons, which were arguably a lot less comforting than where they sat now.

Tanya had calmed down a lot from the night before, although was understandably not on form. She had grown withdrawn and looked pale, a million miles away from the blossoming expectant mother that she was at the same hour, the day before.

Summers gently tried to prise information from Tanya, but either Tanya was hiding something, or she really did think that David was an angel.

She claimed that David had no enemies, was too charming to offend anyone and his honesty and loyalty meant she found it completely beyond reason that someone would choose to hurt him over anything else. In her eyes David was a saint, this must have been a random attack, and her unlucky husband was the latest unfortunate victim of The Phantom, or some other lunatic that was stalking the streets.

Summers listened to the way Tanya spoke of her late husband and knew what she was witnessing was love, in its purest form.

Was love blind?

On the surface, Summers accepted what Tanya was telling her, there was absolutely nothing to gain by pushing Tanya as what she was saying was the truth, in her head anyway, and in her heart.

Summers, on the other hand, wasn’t in love with David, had never even met him, alive anyway, and knew that no man was as saintly as the man portrayed by Mrs Reynolds.

Was love blind? In this case, yes, it was.

Summers mentioned the link between David and his old boss, Charles Peacock, they were both dead within hours and they used to work together. Did Tanya think there could be a link?

‘No. No, I don’t think so,’ said Tanya, confused.

Summers leant forward and softly took Tanya’s hand in hers.

‘Mrs Reynolds,’ she said, ‘there is a chance, that David was involved in something that you and I don’t know about. These next few days, weeks, are going to be difficult for you. But I want you to know, that we are going to find the person that did this, and lock him up for a long time.’

Summers said they’ll need to go through his phone records and emails to help with the investigation. Tanya’s eyes began to well up again, Summers offered a tissue which she took and dabbed away the tears.

‘To be honest,’ replied Tanya, ‘I don’t like prisons. I don’t think people should be locked up like animals, it’s not right. There must be another way to teach people right from wrong.’