Cut Short Read online

  When D.I. Geraldine Steel relocates to the quiet rural town of Woolsmarsh, she expects to find her new home to be somewhere where nothing much ever happens; a space where she can battle her demons in private. But when she finds herself pitted against a twisted killer preying on local young women she quickly discovers how wrong she is...

  By day, the park is a place for children's games, for people walking their dogs or taking a short cut to avoid the streets. But in the shadows a predator prowls, hunting for a fresh victim. When an unwitting bystander comes forward as a witness she quickly becomes the next object of his murderous obsessions - someone whom the killer must stop at all costs.

  D.I. Geraldine Steel is locked into a race against time, determined to find the killer before they discover yet another naked corpse . But can she save the lives of the town's young women - or will Geraldine herself become the killer's ultimate trophy?

  'Cut Short is a stylish, top-of-the-line crime tale, a seamless blending of psychological sophistication and gritty police procedure. And you're just plain going to love DI Geraldine Steel.'

  - Jeffery Deaver

  'Russell paints a careful and intriguing portrait of a small British community while developing a compassionate and complex heroine who's sure to win fans.'

  - Publisher's Weekly

  'an excellent debut'

  - Mark Campbell, Crime Time

  ‘It's an easy read with the strength of the story at its core.......If you want to be swept along with the story above all else, Cut Short is certainly a novel for you.'

  - crimeficreader, itsacrime.typepad.com

  'Simply awesome! This debut novel by Leigh Russell will take your breath away.'

  - Amanda C M Gillies, eurocrime.co.uk

  'an excellent book...Truly a great start for new mystery author Leigh Russell.'

  - Michael Lipkin, New York Journal of Books

  'CUT SHORT is a book I had to read in one sitting... excellent new series'

  - Beth, Murder by Type

  'a surefire hit - a taut, slick, easy to read thriller'

  - Melanie Dakin, Watford Observer

  'a pretty fine police procedural, with a convincing if disconcerting feel of contemporary Britain.'

  - PPO Kane, The Compulsive Reader

  'Cut Short featured in one of Eurocrime's reviewers' Top Reads for 2009'

  - Amanda Gillies, Eurocrime

  'Cut Short is not a comfortable read, but it is a compelling and important one. Highly recommended.'

  - Radmila May, Mystery Women

  'well written debut psychological thriller'

  - stopyourekillingme.com

  'gritty and totally addictive debut novel'

  - Sam Millar, New York Journal of Books

  'If you’re a real fan of police procedurals, you’ll probably enjoy this read'

  - Claudette C. Smith, Sacramento Book Review

  'I found Cut Short to be a fantastic read, taking me only days to finish. I thought it to be well-written and well-paced, with a fresh batch of intriguing characters to go along with a fresh tight plot.'

  - James Garcia Jr, Dance on Fire

  'an excellent story, skilfully built and well told'

  - Sue Magee, www.thebookbag.co.uk

  'intelligently written, gripping crime fiction'

  - Helen M. Hunt, Bookersatz Blogspot

  'I look forward to the second book in the series'

  - Nayu's Reading Corner

  'a very excellent book!'

  - The Book Buff Blog

  'a wonderful series'

  - Clarissa Draper, clarissadraper.blogspot.com

  'difficult to put down'

  - Calum, The Secret Writer

  Leigh Russell studied at the University of Kent gaining a Masters degree in English and American literature. A secondary school teacher, specialising in supporting pupils with Specific Learning Difficulties as well as teaching English, Leigh Russell is married with two daughters and lives in Middlesex. Her first novel, Cut Short, was published in 2009, followed by Road Closed in 2010. Her third novel, Dead End was published in May 2011 and Death Bed will be available in 2012.

  Watch out for Leigh Russell's next two books

  Road Closed and Dead End

  And for further information go to:

  Publisher's website

  http://www.noexit.co.uk/leighrussell

  Author website

  http://www.leighrussell.co.uk/

  Next Title

  www.noexit.co.uk/deathbed

  Blog

  http://leighrussell.blogspot.com/

  CUT SHORT

  Leigh Russell

  NO EXIT PRESS

  Contents

  Acknowledgements

  PART 1

  1 - Goodbye

  2 - Sophie

  3 - Move

  4 - Team

  5 - Gerta

  6 - Café

  7 - Johnny

  8 - Chips

  9 - Honda

  10 - Mortuary

  11 - Neighbours

  12 - Pub

  PART 2

  13 - Home

  14 - Facts

  15 - Suspect

  16 - Terry

  17 - Secret

  18 - Media

  19 - Review

  20 - Melanie

  21 - Lakeland

  22 - Celia

  23 - Newspaper

  PART 3

  24 - Meeting

  25 - Women

  26 - Row

  27 - Witness

  28 - Name

  29 - Gardeners

  30 - Carer

  31 - Mellor

  32 - Rogers

  33 - Reporter

  34 - Garage

  35 - Departure

  PART 4

  36 - Party

  37 - Alone

  38 - Mermaid

  39 - Missing

  40 - Return

  41 - Lake

  42 - Protest

  43 - Exclusive

  44 - Body

  45 - Interview

  46 - Car

  47 - Monday

  48 - Ramsden

  49 - Attention

  PART 5

  50 - Boyfriend

  51 - Room

  52 - Records

  53 - Contacts

  54 - Information

  55 - Patience

  56 - Hideout

  57 - Home

  58 - Brothers

  59 - Escape

  60 - Hair

  61 - Girl

  62 - Alarm

  63 - Vigil

  64 - Interview

  65 - Celebration

  Copyright

  Dedicated

  to

  Michael, Jo and Phill

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank Dr Leonard Russell for his expert medical advice, William Goddard at South Harrow Police Station and Robert Dobbie of the British Transport Police for their suggestions, Matt Biggadike for his technical help, Hazel Orme and Keshini Naidoo for their guidance and, above all, Annette Crossland for her inspiring enthusiasm.

  'Draw your chair up close to the edge of the precipice and I'll tell you a story.'

  F. Scott Fitzgerald

  PART 1

  'pity this busy monster, manunkind,

  not. Progress is a comfortable disease:

  your victim (death and life safely beyond)

  plays with the bigness of his littleness'

  E. E. Cummings

  1

  Goodbye

  He scrabbled at brittle leaves with clumsy gloved fingers then, crouching low, wriggled through the bushes. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching before he trudged away along the path. He'd been clever, careful to leave no clues. No one would find her in the park. It was his secret, his and hers, and she wouldn't tell. He had no idea who she was, and that was clever too. It meant she didn't know who he was.

  He hadn't chosen her because she was pretty. He hadn't chosen her at all. She was just there. But she was pretty and he liked that. No woman had looked at him since school; she had stared into his eyes. She only said one word, 'No!' but she was speaking to him and he knew this was intimacy, just the two of them. It was a pity he wouldn't see her again, but there would be others. It was raining hard. He sang softly, because you never knew who was listening.

  'Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven, like the first dew fall, on the first grass, praise for the sweetness of the wet garden …'

  The rain would wash her clean.

  He faltered as he rounded a bend in the path because a woman was walking towards him. Then he saw she was older, and she wasn't pretty like the woman he'd hidden under autumn leaves. She asked him about a music shop called Bretts. He didn't know what to say so he walked quickly past. He wasn't allowed to talk to her.

  'Never talk to strangers,' Miss Elsie said. The park was a dangerous place and he knew he shouldn't trust people who offered him sweets. He must never get in the car if they offered to take him home, not even if they called his name. The world was full of sin. The woman watched him hurry past. He was frightened.

  'Don't worry,' Miss Elsie said. 'I won't let anyone hurt you.' He walked more quickly and he didn't look back.

  2

  Sophie

  A shrill scream pierced the air. Judi gazed helplessly at her daughter. Sophie's fair curls shook furiously, her angelic face twisted in rage.

  'Won't!' Sophie shrieked. She stamped her foot, ran to the table and flung her plastic bowl to the floor. Coco Pops and rusty milk splashed onto the Amtico tiles. Judi lunged forward, gripped Sophie's little forearm and slapped her hand. The child was shocked into silence before she crumpled. It took Judi nearly an hour to pacify her. No sooner had harmony been restored than the doorbell rang and Judi remembered she'd invited her neighbour round with her small son. She opened the door and saw Alice with two children in tow.

  'Sorry,' Alice said. 'I completely forgot I promised to look after Jamie's friend. We can leave it for today, if you like.' Before Judi could reply, Sophie ran forward squealing with glee.

  'Jamie! Jamie!'

  Judi smiled. 'Don't be silly. Come in. It's fine. Gerta can take them all to the park.'

  Judi and Alice settled down with coffee and slivers of cake while the three children trotted busily along the pavement behind Gerta.

  'We're going to the park,' Jamie crooned and Otto repeated the words in a singsong chant.

  The children's playground was on the far side of Lyceum Park. Gerta hoped she might see the fit young gardener who sometimes worked there and smiled as she passed through the open gateway. Her eyes flicked round eagerly, but the park was deserted. It was ordinary enough, a typical urban park with scrubby grassland, and a lake boasting a half hearted jet of water that could hardly be called a fountain. A few ducks pottered at the edge of the scummy surface along side fat pigeons. They rounded a bend in the narrow asphalt path and saw the playground to their right, its ground covered in tree bark. As they approached the central bank of overgrown trees and shrubs on their left, the two boys raced past Gerta into the children's area. Sophie scurried fretfully at their heels.

  Sophie always played with Jamie. They were best friends. They played on the slide in the park. Not the baby slide. They played on the big big slide. Mummy said they played nicely together. But Jamie was playing with Otto. Sophie wanted to push him off the slide, only Gerta was on the bench watching them. Gerta needed to go away so Sophie could push Otto off the slide and play with Jamie. She and Jamie took turns nicely on the big slide. Mummy said so. Mummy liked Jamie. Mummy didn't like Otto. Otto was horrid.

  'Make Otto go away,' she wailed, but Gerta shook her head and told Sophie not to be silly. Sophie wasn't silly. Gerta was silly, and Otto was silly. Sophie didn't care. She'd go away and hide and they wouldn't be able to find her. Mummy would give Gerta a big smack and make Gerta cry.

  Sophie flew with fairy wings across the path and into the magic trees. The leaves were red and yellow and brown and green. It was a good place to hide. She watched a hungry caterpillar crawling down a tree. It took a long time but no one came to find her. She picked up a stick and poked the leaves. Mummy never let her play with sticks but Mummy wasn't there.

  'Sophie!' she heard Gerta's voice, rising with panic, and giggled.

  'Sophie!' Jamie called.

  'Thophie!' Otto echoed.

  'Go away, Otto,' Sophie whispered. She was so quiet, no one heard her. Sophie wriggled further into the bushes. It was damp and scratchy. She saw a beetle scurrying along the ground and poked it with her stick. A bee buzzed by her ear. There was a hand in the leaves. She poked it and a cloud of nasty insects flew up. Sophie took no notice of them. She'd seen something worse, hiding in the leaves. The wicked witch was lying in the mud, staring up at her. Sophie didn't like it there any more. She wanted mummy.

  'Mummy!' she yelled. She heard scrabbling in the bushes and saw Gerta peering down. Gerta looked like the dog with saucer eyes. Her mouth gaped wide open and she started to scream.

  Sophie covered her ears. She didn't want the wicked witch to wake up. 'Go away, Gerta!' She wanted mummy. She wanted to go home.

  3

  Move

  Flushed with excitement, Geraldine clutched the key. The sharp metal dug into her flesh. After months of anxious waiting she was finally taking possession of her new home. She suppressed an impulse to shout, 'Yippee!' The estate agent was watching her. She smiled while, inside her head, laughter bubbled.

  'You're new to the area, aren't you?' the estate agent asked and she nodded, conscious of his bold eyes. 'What brings you here?'

  'Work,' she replied.

  'It's a very nice flat,' he remarked. 'What did you say you do?'

  'I didn't.'

  'Maybe I'll find out,' he smiled. Geraldine wasn't sure if he was flirting and felt like an awkward teenager. He obviously hadn't seen her details, as he didn't know she was a detective inspector. Accustomed to knowing about other people's lives, she felt unsettled. She hadn't even learned his name, and he was familiar with the interior of her bedroom.

  The estate agent seized her hand in a warm, firm grip, congratulated her once more on her purchase and turned to leave.

  'Is it a good time to buy?' As soon as she spoke Geraldine was afraid he'd see through her clumsy ploy but it worked. He spun round to face her.

  'Property prices have been rising in the UK for fifteen years.'

  'Will the trend continue, do you think?' She was tempted to invite him in for coffee, but she didn't have any milk.

  'There are a lot of people saying the bubble's going to burst some time in the next two years.'

  'What do you think's going to happen to property prices?'

  'If I could predict the future of the housing market, I wouldn't still be working for a living.' He hesitated before scribbling on a business card. 'Here's my mobile number. Why don't you call me when you've settled in?' She reached out and took the card. 'I don't usually meet women like this,' he added, suddenly intense. Then he turned and walked away. Geraldine lingered in the doorway, watching his confident stride. She tried not to think about Mark.

  It never occurred to Geraldine that Mark might leave her, until the evening she'd come home to find him in the hall surrounded by suitcases. Gazing past her, Mark announced that he was moving out.