Page 1 of M for Murder

SAN PALIMO, CALIFORNIA. THURSDAY 8TH

MAY 1997

H e had known from the beginning that they would come for him eventually and, in a way, he guessed he was lucky that it had taken them so long to find him.

Almost eight years. Seven years, ten months and twenty-seven days, if you wanted to be exact. He knew of course, because he had counted those days in thick black marker pen on the white emulsion wall, each one that had passed denoted with a red circle, there in plain view for anyone who entered the room to see.

Of course, nobody ever had seen. But that was the beauty of hiding; no one was supposed to know where you were.

A twisted smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was over now, and they would take him away, but it didn’t really matter. Gripping tightly at the arms of his chair, it struck him with bitter irony that he had been living in his own private prison anyway. How would a cell with bars on the window be any different?

It wouldn’t take his jailers long to realise that the force of what he had created could not be stopped.

Footsteps echoed on the stairs below, growing louder as they neared the attic. Glancing in the dresser mirror, he watched as the door opened behind him, and smiled in reassurance at the familiar face that entered the room; at the one person who had been there for him, who had helped and believed in him, and who was now studying him with a concerned look on his face.

‘They’re coming for you.’

It wasn’t a question, but he nodded at the reflection, raising his finger to his lips.

‘We both knew that they would sooner or later,’ he said softly. ‘But it doesn’t matter any longer, does it?’

Although his question went unanswered, he knew that they were both thinking the same thing.

Rodney Boone had been caught, but the game was far from over. There was someone new to fill his shoes now. Someone who didn’t want to see what he had started go to waste. And that someone had a new name and a new face, and new hands with which to kill.

1

JUNIPER, OREGON. WEDNESDAY 16TH APRIL 1997

I t was their second doughnut stop of the day. Rebecca Angell, waiting in the patrol car for her partner, stole a glance at her watch and noted that it was only ten thirty. Letting out a sigh, she leant back against the headrest and muttered a curse under her breath. All the time though, her eyes remained alert, watching the crowded city street around her.

This was not what she had expected or wanted.

The move to Juniper had been planned as an escape from small-town life; a chance to get away from her home in Swallow Falls.

Sure, she loved the place. She had lived there all of her life and it held many fond memories, but it would have been a lousy place to be a cop.

Her parents loved the town and it was unlikely they would ever leave. Her dad was minister of the parish, while her mom worked part-time at the high school and, now her daughters were grown-up, served on the local committee.

Rebecca, at twenty-six, was the youngest of her siblings. After high school she had attended college for two years, during which time her rather old-fashioned parents had extolled the virtues of a nice, safe secretarial job, and sure enough, after graduating, she had found herself fetching coffee, answering the phone and performing other mundane duties for a local law firm. She hated the work, stuck it out for a couple of years, but eventually realised she couldn’t spend her life pleasing her parents. A part of her had always hankered to be a cop, probably because she had grown up on a diet of Starsky & Hutch and Charlie’s Angels. While her oldest sister, Jess, made out with boys, and middle sister, Wendy, played with her dolls, Rebecca, much to her mother’s chagrin, had hung out with the Brady twins, playing cops and robbers. Back then, when she had told her parents that when she grew up, she was going to put away bad guys, they had laughed her ideas off, putting them down to a childish whim.

How disappointed they had been then, to discover that all these years later she still had her heart set on a career in law enforcement, and shock followed that disappointment when, after graduating from the academy, she had applied to join Juniper Police Department.

It hadn’t even been a decision for Rebecca, who knew that if she stayed in her hometown, the job would amount to little more than writing out parking tickets and breaking up the odd barroom brawl. Juniper, meanwhile, was a big enough city to offer the excitement that she craved, while still close enough to home that she could visit regularly.

Her mother had predictably begged her to reconsider, over-exaggerating the situation to the extent that anyone would think her youngest daughter was heading off to war, but Rebecca’s mind was already made up.

Now she was here in Juniper though, niggling doubts were starting to creep in. Maybe she was expecting more than the city had to offer.

But then again, maybe she wasn’t being given a fair chance to prove her worth.

Although she had only been here a little over three weeks, she already had the distinct impression her new colleagues didn’t think she was up to the job. She suspected that it had a lot to do with the fact that she came from a small town and, it seemed, they thought working in the city was going to be too much for her, and that was no doubt why she had been partnered with Victor Boaz.

A couple of months of putting up with his lazy, sexist attitude would be enough for her. Let her think that city life was too much trouble and she would soon go running back to the safety of her small town, tail between her legs.

It might have worked if Rebecca had been a different person, but she wasn’t, and if Vic and his buddies intended to scare her away then they had a surprise coming, because she didn’t give up easily. Her mother called it her stubborn streak, never letting up until she got her own way, while Rebecca preferred to think of it as dogged determination. She was good at digging her heels in and had no intention of quitting when she had worked so hard to get here.

The car door opening broke her from her thoughts, and she glanced up as Vic climbed into the driver’s seat, half a doughnut in his hand, the other half wedged in his mouth. In his free hand he held a greasy paper bag, which he offered to Rebecca.