‘Are you okay, Mr Mills?’ Farraday asked, taking a seat next to the bed. Jessica sat next to him.

‘Dunno, mate. Feel all right but I didn’t think there’d ever come a day when I was inviting you lot in for a cosy chat.’

‘You don’t have to talk to us, Mr Mills. We’re here because you asked for us.’

‘Yeah, I know. I guess things change when some mad twat tries to knife you, don’t they?’

‘What do you remember about that night?’ Jessica asked.

Mills shifted his eyes to look from the DCI to her. He seemed annoyed she had spoken but glanced back to the chief inspector to answer. ‘Which one of you is in charge?’

‘I’m not sure why that matters,’ Farraday said.

Mills bobbed his head from side to side. ‘Yeah, whatever.’

Jessica wondered if it was her specifically he had a problem with, or women in general. It would explain his girlfriend’s black eye if he simply didn’t like females.

The patient carried on looking at the chief inspector as he spoke. ‘Well, boss, I’d just got home and parked my truck on the drive. I’ve got this American-style open-backed thing. Absolute beauty. Anyway, I’d gone around to the back of it because I’d been out on, er, business.’

‘Did you regularly get home at that time from business?’ The DCI coughed as he spoke the last word and Jessica fought to stifle a smile.

‘Sometimes, yeah. Maybe a couple of times a week? It all depends what’s going on that particular week. I’d gone around to the back and thought I heard a noise behind me. As soon as I turned I felt someone coming at me. It was pretty dark and he was just a shadow at first.’

‘Was it definitely a man?’ Jessica asked.

The man laughed. ‘Fuck me, love, do you think I’d let some bird do this to me?’ He pointed towards the mark on his neck and shook his head dismissively.

‘Okay, Mr Mills, what happened?’ Farraday said and Jessica could tell he was trying to keep his tone steady.

‘Right, well, this chancer came flying at me and nailed me in the neck as I turned. He must have been waiting or something. One on one and he wouldn’t have stood a chance but cowards use weapons, don’t they?’

Jessica wondered if he thought really brave men used their fists to beat up their girlfriends but said nothing.

‘Anyway,’ Mills continued, ‘he pulled back to do me again but I smacked him straight on the jaw and he went down. I was trying to get to my feet but couldn’t breathe properly. Before I knew it, that bird from down the street . . .’

‘Carrie,’ Jessica interrupted. ‘Detective Constable Carrie Jones.’

The man looked sideways at Jessica. ‘Yeah, her. She came out of nowhere and tried to get involved. I’ll give her credit, considering she’s a girl, she was fearless.’

‘What do you remember after that?’ Farraday asked.

‘Not much. A bit of the ambulance, then waking up here.’

‘Do you know she was killed saving your life?’ Jessica snapped.

Mills looked straight at her but this time genuinely did seem surprised. ‘No . . . I . . . no one said anything. I figured she scared him off or whatever.’

‘She was stabbed three times and died that night.’ Jessica was struggling to control the anger and emotion in her voice. ‘Do you remember the girl you bullied, the one you’d watch and intimidate because she was a police officer and you’re such a big fucking man? Remember her? She died and you’re here.’

The man in the bed struggled to pull himself up further in the bed. ‘I didn’t know . . . ’

Farraday spoke next, defusing some of the tension. ‘I guess all we have left to ask is if you would recognise the man who stabbed you?’

Mills’s tone had changed and he spoke far more softly. ‘Yeah, I mean it was dark but you don’t forget a face like that.’

Jessica blinked back tears but listened to the description of the killer. She remembered the crucial question she had forgotten to ask the chief inspector the previous evening and knew instantly who they were looking for.

35

The killer knew he’d blown it. He hadn’t meant to harm the female police officer but, when she’d come at him, he had no other option. With all the noise, he hadn’t even risked finishing off that animal Mills. He had been worried about how the papers would talk about him after such a mistake. He’d hoped they would understand the woman was an accident, collateral damage, as part of a wider project.

Instead they hadn’t, they changed their minds and decided he was the problem. He hadn’t known if he could continue working through his list and thought it would be a good idea to keep his head down for a little while and then maybe make a comeback when people had begun to forget about him.

Things had been confusing though. That photo of Donald McKenna had ended up on television and in the papers. He didn’t know how they could have figured it out but waited to see if anyone came for him. The killer wasn’t quite sure if he understood all of it himself when it came to McKenna. He had tried not to think about it but it was something niggling away at the back of his mind. Either way, when they hadn’t come for him, he realised he might be in the clear after all. Perhaps if he just dealt with the next person on his list, the people that wrote their columns would realise he wasn’t the bad guy after all?

He began to start planning exactly what he would need to do next. Obviously he didn’t want to get caught and most of the people he went after were bigger or stronger than him. It was all about biding his time and looking for a routine.

But then the woman had come to him. It was strange but, after talking with her, he knew he had to change his plans and go for a different target. He wasn’t sure if she knew about his project or not but, even if she didn’t, it didn’t matter. She hadn’t told him specifically this man should be targeted but her careless talk had given him enough to go on. Maybe he would tell her afterwards that he had done it for her? Maybe she would guess?

In any case, after watching the person for two nights, it was clear the new target had a very simple routine to follow – this would be the easiest one yet.

He was grateful for the darker evenings as it meant he could comfortably get into place in time. He pressed himself into the bush and watched as the car pulled forwards towards the garage. As with the last few nights when he had simply been an observer, he knew the vehicle would stop and the man would get out to open the garage door. That was when he would strike.

The headlights illuminated the chipped paintwork of the garage door and the killer heard the car slide into neutral.

Just a few more seconds.

He stepped forwards out of the hedge, crouched and moved silently towards the driveway. He heard the car door open and saw the person he was waiting for stand and start towards the garage door. The man had his back to him and the killer moved quickly as the wide door started to slide upwards.

The killer took his hand out of his pocket, holding the knife tightly ready to strike but, as he pulled back, the target suddenly dropped to his knees and rolled backwards.

The man with the knife stopped and looked sideways but the other man on the ground was looking directly at him.

How could he know?

The killer motioned to turn and run but the man spoke loudly and clearly. ‘Game’s over, Dennis.’

Dennis Doherty panicked and looked to his right but saw officers swarming out from under the garage doors. He spun and ran as fast as he could towards the gate. As he got nearer it started to open and he wondered if somehow he had a guardian angel who was setting him free – but more officers poured through the gate towards him. He looked backwards but was surrounded and walking at the front of the officers was the woman.