Little Boy Blue

88

The kettle shrieked as it reached boiling point, jolting Helen from her thoughts. She had been briefed by Sanderson before leaving the station, her DS confirming that Paine’s tablet was a dead end. The device had been found by two students in a park bin miles from his flat, its memory erased and the exterior wiped clean.

Frustrated and drained, Helen had spent some time in her office leafing through Meredith’s latest reports, which worryingly did not include a positive DNA source for Parker at the Torture Rooms, before deciding to call it a day. It was late and she craved the sanctuary of her flat.

Once safely home, she’d tried to read, but when that failed to distract her, she’d opted for herbal tea and a hot bath instead. But, as ever, she couldn’t stop her mind from turning. She didn’t really remember filling the kettle, which was testament enough to her inability to drive Samantha from her thoughts. She was such a good fit for these crimes, but if she was guilty, why was she so cocky? She seemed to be enjoying the dance, as if she alone knew the punch line that was about to be delivered. Helen had the unnerving feeling that they were missing something significant.

Helen poured the boiling water into the cup and watched the colour leach out of the tea bag. She had been looking forward to a soothing drink, but now she couldn’t face it. What was the point of going through this ritual? She could have a cup of tea, lie in a warm bath, but she would still be thinking the same thoughts, teasing away at the same knotty problems. She’d smoked too many cigarettes and she didn’t have the energy for a run – it was a bitter irony that she no longer had Jake to turn to, to rid her of her dark energy.

Throwing her tea into the sink, Helen turned to face the window. It was late now and the pubs would be emptying soon – perhaps some late-night voyeurism would help Helen unwind. The lights were off in her kitchen, shrouding her in darkness, but the moon was full and bright and as Helen looked out of her window she saw him. It was only for an instant, but there was no mistaking it. A man was standing in the derelict building opposite, watching her.

Helen’s instinctive reaction was to pull away, but she managed to control herself, turning and walking slowly towards the back of the flat, as if nothing had happened. Then, as soon as she was out of view, she dashed to the front door and wrenched it open. She had no idea who was watching her, but he wasn’t going to escape her tonight.