Lisa Stone: Stalker

Bracing herself for what she would find, Beth tentatively lifted a corner. The smell intensified but it was impossible to make out what she was looking at. Shining her phone directly onto the object she pulled off the rest of the blanket. The full force of the smell hit her.

‘Jesus! Matt, quick! Come here. It’s a person. Call an ambulance.’ She dropped to her knees and looked closer. Matt rushed over, taking out his phone as he came. ‘I think it’s Derek Flint,’ she said. With his face bloody and swollen and tape covering his mouth he was virtually unidentifiable; only his glasses were familiar. ‘My God!’ Beth gasped. ‘What did they do to him?’

‘He’s dead,’ Matt said joining her, and confirmed the address over the phone with the emergency services. ‘We’re too late.’

But as Beth looked, her fingers on his neck feeling for a pulse, she saw the slightest twitch at the corner of his eye. ‘No, he’s still alive!’

She began peeling the tape from his mouth. He groaned but his swollen eyes remained closed. ‘Derek, it’s Beth Mayes. Stay with us, an ambulance is on its way.’

Matt untied the cord cutting into his ankles and wrists and as he did dead skin fell away. ‘Jesus! How on earth is he still alive?’

Beth stayed kneeling beside him, trying to avoid breathing in the foul smell; a combination of faeces, urine, vomit and rotting flesh. The only time she’d ever smelt anything similar was when she’d been called to the flat of an elderly woman who’d been dead for a week at the height of summer. The acrid smell had been overpowering and had lodged in her throat and nose and stayed with her for days after.

Derek’s lips began moving as if he was trying to talk.

‘It’s all right, Derek. Lie still, we know what’s been going on,’ Beth reassured him. ‘The ambulance is coming.’ She tried not to retch but the smell was gut-wrenching. He surely wouldn’t make it, but his lips were moving again. She put her ear as close to his mouth as she dared.

‘What day is it?’ he mumbled.

‘Monday.’

He coughed and groaned, his claw-like hand reaching up. He was trying to tell her something.

‘What is it, Derek?’

‘Ashfield School. Nicole.’ He paused and fought for breath. ‘They’re going to rape her. Stop them.’

‘When?’

‘Today. Now.’ And he lapsed again into unconsciousness.

‘I’m onto it,’ Matt said, bringing his phone again to his ear.

Ashfield Girls’ School had already been dismissed at the end of the day and the girls were leaving in small groups, pairs and alone. The secondary school of approximately eight hundred students was at the end of a single-track lane along which they had to exit. There was no other way out. Three unmarked police cars were now parked at various points along the lane, hopefully blending in with the other cars waiting to pick up pupils. The coaches that took the pupils who lived in the outlying villages had already left. The rest of the girls either walked home or to the bus stops at the end of the lane. It was about a ten-minute walk. Nicole should be walking to the bus stop but there was no sign of her yet.

Nine police officers were waiting in the three cars but it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Any one of the girls drifting past could be Nicole. They knew from the call that had summoned all vehicles in the area to the lane that the target was a girl called Nicole, but that was all they knew. There’d been enough time to discover that there were three Nicoles in the school but not enough time to identify which one was the intended target. Had they had more time they could have also staked out the road better, but now all they could do was watch and hope. Any of the cars parked along the lane could be hiding the abductors and so far there was no sign of the white van the station had told them to look out for.

The girls continued to stream along the lane, laughing and chatting, some listening to music, others on their phones, but all oblivious to the evil that lurked close by. Perhaps the rapists had got wind the police had been tipped off and had aborted their plans? If so there were more police staked out at the flat in Bushmead Close they’d been using, waiting for them to return. Keeping their presence as inconspicuous as possible, the officers in the cars remained vigilant and in contact with the other cars in the operation and the station. The crowds of girls began to thin as some left in waiting cars, a couple on the backs of motorbikes and the rest walking slowly towards the end of the lane and the bus stops.

Ten minutes later all that remained were the late leavers and there was still no sign of a white van. The DSI was updated.

Nicole King put in her earbuds as she came out of the school gates, then turned into the lane. She was usually with two friends but today she’d had to stay behind to see her science teacher, Ms Wilkins, so she’d told them to go on without her as she didn’t know how long she’d be. Nicole was happy. Ms Wilkins had told her she would be running extra biology and chemistry lessons for those who were hoping to pursue careers in medicine; the budding doctors, nurses, paramedics and pharmacists. Competition was fierce to study medicine at university and Nicole knew this would give her a better chance of getting the grades she needed to be accepted. Starting on Wednesday, the classes would run for an hour after school and continue until they’d taken their exams the following year. Not only was Nicole pleased but she knew her parents would be too. They were both doctors and had been overjoyed when she’d said she wanted to follow in their footsteps and study medicine.

With her gaze concentrated on the pavement and listening to her music, she was completely unaware of the white van that had pulled out of the school gates behind her. Even when it drew level she gave it no more than a cursory glance. She continued along the lane, lost in her music and plans for her future. The van passed and then drew into the kerb a little way in front; the lane was more or less deserted now. As she walked by, the side door of the van suddenly opened and two figures wearing balaclavas grabbed her and pulled her in. Her screams were silenced by a gloved hand clamped over her mouth. It was all over in a second. Roughly thrown on the floor in the back of the van, she was pinned down by the two men while a third stayed in the driver’s seat.

Wide-eyed with fear, Nicole struggled and tried to thrash out but it was hopeless. Much heavier and stronger than her, they sat effortlessly on her arms and legs. Only their eyes and mouths were visible through the slits in their balaclavas. One produced a knife and held it to her throat; she felt the cold steel press against her skin.

‘Keep still if you know what’s good for you,’ he snarled, then turned to the other and nodded as if giving him the go ahead.

Nicole stared in horror, rigid with fear, as he began towards her, undoing his trousers.

Further down the lane an officer in the last police car had just spotted the van.

‘Shit! It must have been hiding in the school grounds!’

Starting the car, the driver swung out and accelerated towards the van; the other two police cars followed. The driver of the van spotted them and quickly starting the van’s engine, drove towards the cars. They tried to block its path. With a screech of tyres the van swerved, clipped the first police car, sending it spinning, then accelerated, missing the second car but hit the third full on.

The officers poured out of their cars and surrounded the van. Batons raised and stun gun at the ready, they wrenched open the doors and rushed in, overpowering the abductors. Sobbing, Nicole was helped to her feet and out of the van. An officer draped a blanket around her shoulders and led her towards one of the police cars to wait for the ambulance. As they went, Nicole saw the three men being led to the other police cars, now unmasked and handcuffed. She paused and cried out in disbelief.