Page 75 of M for Murder

‘You’re the next one on the list.’

‘What list?’ she asked, disbelieving. ‘What are you…?’

‘I lied to you back in the diner,’ he said, interrupting her. ‘I had to get you by yourself and I knew you wouldn’t come willingly.’ He looked at her again and this time seemed for the first time to really notice she was there.

Justine was aware of the Buick increasing speed and it passed through her mind that she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. They might crash if he didn’t return his attention to the road.

‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ He shook his head angrily. ‘I’m talking about the Alphabet Killer, Justine. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you? You’ve got the playing card. You’re going to be the next victim.’

Justine looked into his eyes and knew that he wasn’t kidding. She turned away, her mind in a spin as she tried to figure out what the hell she was going to do.

You’d better come up with something quick. He’s planning on killing you.

A bend appeared in the road ahead, and the Buick began to brake sharply. With no time to think, she pushed down the handle of the door with shaking fingers and shoved it open.

Without looking back, she jumped.

After she’d jumped from his car, he’d pulled over to the side of the road and given chase, believing that he would catch her easily. Although the water-filled ditch where she’d landed had softened her fall, she had still appeared to be limping badly. But he was wrong. They were in thick woods and there were plenty of places for her to hide. Eventually he’d had to give up the hunt and return to his Buick alone.

He knew he should have panicked. She’d seen his face and would be able to give a good description of him to the cops. If they found him out now, he would never be able to complete the job. Somehow, though, he didn’t think that Justine Orton would be picking up the phone and dialling 911. She knew that he knew things about her that no one else did. Maybe only little things, but things, nonetheless, that she wouldn’t want to be spread around. If she told the cops what happened, she would have to tell them what she was doing in the car with him in the first place, and then everyone would find out about Lawrie and her obsessive crush.

He suspected that Justine Orton would rather keep quiet than suffer any kind of embarrassment.

He had really lucked out that night, seeing her break into Lawrie and Kylan Parker’s house.

Of course, he had gone there in the hope of seeing Kylan and, realising she was out, he had been on the verge of returning to the campus. Two minutes later and he would never have seen the skinny girl with the cropped hair sneaking into the backyard.

It hadn’t taken him long to put two and two together.

She wasn’t a thief. Any doubts he’d had on that front vanished when he watched her emerge from the house half an hour later, empty-handed. That had made him all the more curious to know what she was doing breaking in. After he had watched her open the envelope that contained the joker playing card the previous afternoon, he had paid a visit to her room, looking for leverage to use to get her alone. The doodles on the inside cover of one of her notebooks and the picture of Lawrie Parker cut from one of the student papers soon confirmed his suspicions that Justine Orton had a little crush on her English professor, and he realised that the best way to her would probably be to use a little blackmail.

His plan had worked well, and he’d successfully managed to get her alone. What he hadn’t counted on was her throwing herself from his car, and he certainly hadn’t counted on losing her. Whatever happened, he had to get her back.

Justine Orton had the card. She had to be the fifteenth victim.

Playing on a hunch that she would go straight back to the campus, he swung his Buick around and headed in the direction of Juniper College.

Justine Orton unlocked the door to her room just after midnight. With it being so dark, she didn’t see the figure sitting, waiting patiently for her on the edge of her bed, not until she had actually stepped into the room and closed the door. She flicked the light switch on and gasped loudly.

‘Hello, Justine.’

Justine drew a deep breath, feeling her heartbeat quicken, as her eyes darted to the black-and-green check tie pulled taut in the gloved hands. The tie she had stolen.

She took a step back and crashed into the door. Whirling round, she clenched the doorknob with both hands. Before she could pull it open, one of the gloved hands grabbed hold of her by the arm and wrenched her back into the room.

She stumbled to the floor, landing on her knees, and cried out loudly in pain.

Oh my God! This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

But as she saw the black and green tie drop down in front of her eyes, then felt it wrap tightly around her throat, Justine Orton realised that she was wrong.

28

MONDAY 5TH MAY 1997

H e watched them from the car. The three of them walking side by side, hips swaying, books under their arms, the slight breeze playing with their hair.

The brunette, the tallest of the three, was in the middle, the redhead to her right, the blonde to her left.