‘What are you not freaking out about?’ He tried not to raise his voice, but he should have tried harder. ‘A serial killer, Pip.’
‘Ravi.’ His name broke apart in her mouth, into a small laugh. His eyes flashed angrily at her. ‘This is from six and a half years ago. The DT Killer confessed. I’m pretty sure he pleaded guilty in court too. He’s been in prison all this time, and there were no more murders after his arrest. The DT Killer is gone.’
‘Yeah, well, what about the dead pigeons?’ Ravi said, his arm in a straight and quivering line, pointing back to the screen. ‘And the chalk lines, Pip? Those two exact things in the weeks before he killed Julia.’ Ravi dropped to his knees in front of her, holding one hand up to her face, thumb and little finger folded down. ‘Three,’ he hissed, bringing his three raised fingers even closer. ‘Three chalk stick figures. Julia was the fourth victim, Pip. Three before her. And now there have been five women killed, and there are five little stick figures out on your drive right fucking now.’
‘Look, calm down,’ she said, taking his raised hand, tucking it between her knees to hold it still. ‘I’ve never heard of those things Julia Hunter’s sister said there, not in any articles or podcasts. Maybe the police decided they weren’t relevant in the end.’
‘But they are relevant to you.’
‘I know, I know, I’m not saying that.’ She locked on to his eyes, tilted her chin. ‘Obviously there’s a connection, between what Harriet Hunter said and what’s happening to me. Well, I haven’t had any mysterious phone calls –’
‘Yet,’ Ravi cut across her, his hand trying to escape.
‘But the DT Killer is in prison. Look.’ She released his hand, and turned back to the laptop, typing DT Killer into a new search page and pressing enter.
‘Ah, Billy Karras, yes, that’s his name,’ she said, scrolling down the page of results to show Ravi. ‘See. Age thirty when he was arrested. He confessed in a police interview and – see – yep, he also pleaded guilty to all five murders. No need for a trial. He’s in prison and will be for the rest of his life.’
‘Doesn’t really look like the police sketch,’ Ravi sniffed, his hand finding its own way back between her knees.
‘Well, kind of.’ She squinted at Billy Karras’ mugshot. Greasy dark brown hair pushed back from his face, green eyes that almost jumped right out of his face, startled by the camera. ‘No one ever really does anyway.’
That seemed to help Ravi a little, putting a face to the name, the proof unrolling before his eyes as Pip clicked on to the second page of results.
She stopped, scrolled back up. Something had caught her eye. A number. A month.
‘What?’ Ravi asked her, a tremor in his hand that passed through to her.
‘Oh, it’s nothing,’ she said, shaking her head so he knew she meant it. ‘Nothing really. Just… I never realized before. The final victim of the DT Killer, Tara Yates, she was killed on the 20th April 2012.’
He looked at her, the same glint of recognition in his eyes, mirroring back her own. She watched herself, the warped version of her trapped in the darks of his eyes. Well, one of them had to say it out loud.
‘The same night Andie Bell died,’ she said.
‘That is weird,’ he said, dropping his gaze, and the Pip that lived in there slipped away. ‘This is all weird, all of it. OK, he’s in prison, but so why is someone doing the exact same to you as happened to Julia Hunter before she died? To all of the victims, potentially. And don’t tell me it’s a coincidence because that’s a lie: you don’t believe in coincidences.’
He had her there.
‘No, I know. I don’t know.’ She stopped to laugh at herself, unsure why she had; it didn’t belong here. ‘Obviously that can’t be a coincidence. Maybe someone wants me to think I’m being stalked by the DT Killer.’
‘Why would someone want that?’
‘Ravi, I don’t know.’ She felt defensive all of a sudden, hot, the fence going up again, but this time to keep Ravi out. ‘Maybe someone wants to drive me crazy. Push me over the edge.’
They wouldn’t have to push very hard at all. She’d walked herself right up to the edge, toes hanging over the drop. One sharp breath to the back of her neck would probably do it. Just one question between her and that long fall down: who will look for you when you’re the one who disappears?