G.D. Sanders - The Victim

‘Any chance of fingerprints?’

‘A week or so after death shouldn’t be a problem. When can we have the body?’

‘Forensics will arrange it.’

As the pathologist gathered his things and left, Ed turned to Jenny.

‘If the body was moved, that means somebody was here a few hours after she died. The question is: was the same person here when she died? Either way, why didn’t they call the emergency services?’ Ed indicated the body. ‘Why leave the poor girl to decompose in a locked flat?’

Jenny, who was standing further from the bed, kept her eyes on Ed’s face. ‘I can’t imagine anyone being so callous.’

Sensitive to her young DC’s discomfort, Ed sent Jenny to look at the rest of the flat while she stayed in the bedroom. Apparently oblivious to the smell and horror of the discoloured body, Ed bent close to examine the victim before standing back to study the position of the dead woman on the bed. After a quick glance around the sparsely furnished bedroom, Ed called Jenny to join her.

‘What do you make of this bed?’

Jenny came closer for a quick look and stepped back.

‘The sheet’s not new, but it doesn’t look slept on. Apart from the marks made by escaping body fluids, it’s actually very clean, just like everything in the main room and bathroom.’

‘Same in here: not only the room and the bedding, but also the head and foot of the bed appear to have been thoroughly cleaned.’

‘We need to speak to the parents. Go down to the van and have an initial chat with them. I’ll stay here until forensics arrive.’

With a look of relief, Jenny turned to go.

‘Oh, and Jenny, check the doors for any signs of forced entry.’

Gina opened her eyes. She was still slumped against the wall near the door to her flat. Her back ached and her joints were stiff, but these, and other sensations, were overridden by a debilitating sense of listlessness. After fitful hours of weeping, she no longer had the strength to struggle or scream for help. He was right. No one had come. No one could hear her. She was on her own.

There were noises from the kitchen. It sounded as if he were eating. Gina felt sick at the thought of food and then became aware she was terribly thirsty. The glass of champagne was still near her feet. Without thinking, she reached and took a sip. Too late she realized it might be drugged.

‘Ah, Ms Hamilton, you’re awake. I’m pleased to see you’ve decided to try the champagne. That glass must be flat. Let me get you a fresh one.’

‘I want you to leave.’

It was more a weary plea than a demand. Gina felt helpless and too exhausted to insist. The terror she’d experienced as she fumbled with her keys, the horror she’d felt when she grasped she was imprisoned and at his mercy, those extreme emotions had left her body; she could acknowledge them in her head but she lacked the energy to experience their intensity. Physically, her body had shut down.

‘Please go, go and leave me alone.’

‘Let’s not repeat ourselves. Accept the situation. If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done it when you arrived. I could have done it any time since. I could do it now, but I have no intention of hurting you.’

Despite her weary detachment, Gina was aware his manner, in keeping with his unimposing appearance, showed no immediate sign of threat. She felt she should do something, but a total lack of physical strength left her body inert.

‘I’ve taken the liberty of getting myself something to eat. All food I’ve paid for, I hasten to add. I brought it with me when I arrived this afternoon. At the moment I’m eating smoked salmon with cream cheese and bagels. They go well with the champagne. May I get you some?’

With what seemed like an immense effort she forced herself to speak. ‘I’d like you to go. Just go and leave me alone.’

‘Georgina …’ he replied, reprovingly.

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Perhaps you’ll have some later. How about some champagne?’

‘No.’ Suddenly, Gina had an idea and felt revitalized. ‘No. No, thank you. I need the bathroom.’

She forced herself to her feet and took her bag from the hall table. As she turned to close the bathroom door, she saw him smile from his position in the hall. Her hand moved to the lock. The bastard ! He’d removed the mechanism. Gina tipped her flat champagne into the basin, ran the cold tap and filled her glass. Drinking the water with one hand, she fumbled in her bag with the other and retrieved her mobile phone. It was off. Puzzled, she switched it on. Nothing. Her phone was dead. Gina opened it to find that the battery and SIM card had been removed. Stepping back into the hall, she waved the mobile phone at him.

‘What have you done with my battery and SIM?’

‘Gina,’ he said with a look of mock disappointment, ‘surely you didn’t expect me to leave you free to contact the outside world. Don’t worry. Your battery and SIM are in a safe place, together with the charger and battery from your laptop.’

Gina felt an ominous sense of foreboding. His calm assurance was becoming as frightening as the thought of what he might do to her.

‘If I don’t contact my friends they’ll—’

‘Sadly, you don’t seem to be in regular contact with any friends.’

‘What? How?’

‘This last week I’ve had plenty of time to hack into your laptop while you’ve been at work.’

Gina’s sense of isolation increased. She stepped back into the bathroom to think. Feeling weak, she leant against the washbasin for support. Determined to be rational, she forced herself to take stock. Normal access to the world had been taken from her. House keys, landline, mobile and computer; all were useless. If the people in the flat next door were away, she had little chance of attracting attention. Her flat was on the third floor. The external windows were at the side of the building facing thick leafy treetops. Even if she could get a window open, her cries for help were unlikely to be heard. The lock had gone from the bathroom door, leaving her exposed and defenceless. Gina’s legs began to shake and she tightened her grip on the basin.

Staring sightlessly at her face in the bathroom mirror, Gina struggled to think clearly. Building logical thoughts was like trying to run waist-deep in a swimming pool. Her breathing was laboured and her mouth gaped with the effort. For the moment he had the upper hand. She was at his mercy. There was little choice but to play along, see what developed and look for a way to escape.

He was right; if he’d wanted to hurt her he could have done so already. Slowly a new thought struggled to the surface: he hadn’t done so already but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t harm her, even kill her, sometime in the future. Gina’s knees buckled and she clung to the rim of the basin. Physically she felt weak, but her mental strength was returning. She splashed her face with cold water. This man wouldn’t get the better of her. She didn’t know how, but she would find a way. She straightened and refilled her glass with water from the tap, determined he wouldn’t win.

‘There’s mineral water in the fridge.’ The voice drew attention to his presence, watching her from the hall. Gina shuddered.

‘Tap water’s fine.’ She forced herself to look at him. ‘I know I can’t get out, but you said we should take it slowly. I’m tired. I need to rest. Just tell me what you want and we’ll talk about it later.’

He looked at her carefully. Contrived or not, he appeared innocent, almost boyish.

‘It’s very simple. I want you. I want you to give yourself to me.’

Gina gasped. He’d spoken so calmly, as if his wish was the most natural thing in the world. But why was she so surprised? It had to be sex; why else would a man break into a single woman’s home?