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  THE SWAP SKILLS KILLER

  By DIANA EVERINGTON

  Published by Diana Everington -

  Copyright © 2016

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except in the case of a reviewer, whom may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used entirely fictitiously.

  Any other resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All requests should be forwarded to:

  [email protected]

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  THE SWAP SKILLS KILLER

  Published by Diana Everington - Copyright © 2016

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  NOTE FOM THE AUTHOR

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  He scrambled through the woods, the sweat pouring down his face, twigs and leaves sticking to the sweat making him feel like he had insects crawling all over him. The trees stood tall and grand like giants blocking his way, branches leaning down to claw at his face as he worked his way through the woods.

  Jake’s foot caught on a gnarled tree root and he stumbled to the ground. He could scent the fresh aroma of pine sap as his face hit the wet mounds of acrid smelling earth, the crispy, sticky pine needles caught precariously in his clothes.

  His sergeant and sidekick, Detective Sergeant Amelia Saunders, was lagging behind, panting away, she would have to kick the smoking in the head, and soon. The gorse bushes were pricking at her clothing, making her legs feel raw, as she staggered to catch up to Jake, whilst admiring his towering physique from behind.

  The sound of the trees rustling in the air, and leaves crunching, gave the eerie sensation that someone was watching and observing her, about to pounce at any moment. Her leg muscles tightened, ready to run for cover from the imaginary terrors stalking her.

  It was not a figment of her imagination; someone was trailing them through the woods. Hidden away in the bushes he was watching her, drooling as she was struggling to keep pace, falling behind the person in front. Did he have time to jump out of the bushes and grab her without the man ahead of her noticing that she was not there?

  The weather conditions did not help their plight. There was a booming of thunder in the distance, threatening a storm looming, making the air feel heavy and sinister in the ever-darkening woods. Amelia did not like thunderstorms. When she was a kid, she would not run out in fear that lightning would strike her playing in the parkland. It did not help that her grandmother feared storms and used to lock herself away in the hall under the stairs where there was a big ratty armchair where she would sit until the storm died down.

  Rain took up to pelt it down, making them soggy and feeling cold, therefore hindering their movement. The darkness of the clouds bringing shadows seeping through the trees, making it harder for them to reach their destination.

  She wished that she had consumed a few less sandwiches at teatime, and forsaken the strawberry and vanilla smoothie. The food is now weighing heavy in her belly making it ripple. She propelled herself forward, turning her head upwards at the fluttering of wings of unseen birds bedding down for the night, and casting shadows over the ever-darkening woods.

  They were here because they received a call about two lads that had an accident on scrambler bikes. They told the police inspector they had remembered a wooden cabin a bit further back along the track, so turned back on themselves to see whether they could get water and cloth to clean their wounds, as they wanted to get to the next village before it got dark.

  When the lads arrived at the cabin, the owner was behaving rather strangely. He was very irritated that someone had interrupted his business.

  He reluctantly handed them water, lint and plasters, and told them to leave the water container on the step, and turned round chuntering away to himself. As they were walking away, they thought they heard a muffled cry for help. They were suspicious and hesitantly asked what the noise was and he said it was his tomcat warning off the other cats in the area. It did not sound like cats to them, it was more of a human sound, but they walked away as if the answer satisfied their curiosity.

  They were not happy with his reply so decided to call the police when they came to the next village to tell them about the weird incident.

  When Jake and Amelia reached the cabin, they hollered out to find out if anyone was around and hammered on the door, rat-a-tat, with the old metal knocker that did not resemble a brass lion any more. They then decided to try the door and it was open. The door squeaked as it opened, Jake yelled out “Anyone home, it’s the police, can we have a few words to clear a few things up?”

  They stepped further inside the cabin and called out once more. It appeared that whoever owned the house might have gone out to collect firewood as the pot-bellied stove door was open, with a shovel on top, and screwed up newspaper ready to light it with a fire lighter.

  They searched around the room; still bellowing “Is anyone home.” Amelia thought she heard something, a barely audible cry. They rummaged round the room to see where the noise might be coming from. There was a table at the far end of the room with a carpet thrown haphazardly underneath it. Jake pulled the table out of the way and ripped the carpet up. There was a hatch with a bolt across, it made a squeak, screech, clunk, as he slid the bolt back and lifted the door open, and let the stair slide down to the ground.

  “Oh No, I can hear something down there scurrying about, I hope it’s not a plague of rats, I hate rats and I have a phobia of rodents. I can tell you now if I see a rat you will hear me holler like a baby,” Jake gulped.

  She gave him a dirty look and commanded. “Just go down there you wimp, place your fears to one side, don’t you forget what we have come here for. I cannot believe they have paired me up with a man that is frightened of rats, what a joke! You had better man up to keep up with me Jake Hammond, you don’t know what fear is, and that’s the truth, perhaps I’ll tell you one day.”

  The colour had already drained out of his face and anger had set in with her ridiculing him. He grudgingly peered down into what looked like a cellar, and he was right, there were rats scurrying along the shelving and racks, knocking rat shit down onto the already grubby floor, as they scrambled to hide as the
beams of the torch shone down into the darkened room.

  He could hear a loud scratching. Chills went up and down his spine and the hairs on his head stood up, and he began to perspire copiously, having to face his worst nightmare. The foul stench of urine, decay, and festering meat astounded him and he could taste the bile coming up in his throat, threatening him to throw up.

  There were containers of filthy, stinking water, slop buckets and the most horrendous table full of blood stained outfits, masks, handcuffs, sexy nurse uniforms and other lewd clothes, it being the largest collection that he had ever seen.

  He frantically made his way round the room, cringing away from the shelving because of the vermin, his torch casting nothing but shadows on the blood stained walls. There were hooks where game birds must have hung, traps, saws, knives and gardening tools.

  Amelia caught his attention by grasping his sleeve and pointed to a youthful looking girl huddled up in the corner, blood trickling down the side of her face; hair matted to her head with dirt and congealed blood. She was foraging for food off the floor, along with the critters such as beetles and roaches. She scratched on the dusty floor scraping up food with her fingers, the look of madness deep set in her terrified eyes.

  She heard the bolt slide back on the door.

  The torch blinded her.

  She sat paralyzed with fear.

  She looked up and let out a blood-curdling scream.

  She was frantic because she could not see who was coming towards her.

  Had the perpetrator come back to finish her off.

  Her heart hammered against her chest, thump, thump, thump.

  No, she didn’t want to die, not here in this gruesome cellar.

  She wanted her Mummy and Daddy.

  She begged for mercy.

  Then she realized it wasn’t him.

  If not for her scream, the foul stench would have led them to her. They could see she was in agony. She had deep welts and pus coming out of cuts on her ankles cuffed to the walls. Chains giving her room to walk just a few steps, if she could manage that. There was panic in her eyes as she waited for the torturer to come back and finish her off as he had promised if she screamed for help.

  Jake took caution not to frighten her as he approached her and said warmly,

  “Look love, I know it’s hard because you’re scared, and you have had a horrific time but try to stay calm, you are in safe hands now. We are Police Detectives. Amelia here is going to look after you now, so don’t worry; you are going to be fine.”

  “Amelia, you comfort her whilst I radio it in and get back up because we could be in danger as the lunatic could be still lurking out there watching us, he could pounce on us at any time, and he might be armed so be alert.”

  “Jake, it looks like she’s been raped repeatedly, bruises all over her thighs. We’ve got a sadistic one here, I wish he would come back, I would like to give the maniac a pummelling and a few kicks in the balls before we haul him in.” Amelia fumed silently.

  “I wager you would miss, I can just imagine what you might have done to him if we had caught him in the act. Did you find out her name so that I can call it in to the Guv? There’s a tap over there go get her some fresh drinking water as she will probably be dehydrated because there’s no drinking water nearby.”

  Amelia gave her water and then scrambled amongst the clothes on the table and found the most modest one, that happened to be a nurses uniform, and she dressed her nakedness.

  Jake was watching Amelia, admiring her curvaceous body, which would not go amiss on a catwalk wearing some bizarre costume. She was so tender towards the young woman, whispering gently to calm her down; he reckoned she would grow to be a wonderful mother. She bent over, moving the matted hair out of the girls face, and told her, she would be safe now and how they would get in their very best men to catch the man that hurt her.

  Helping her into the clothes whilst listening to the girl’s whimpering, tears welled up in Amelia’s eyes as the girl feebly tried to stand up, “How can men assault vulnerable young women, what warped mind must they have to inflict this sort of pain and humiliation. It absolutely sucks?”

  Jake saw that this harrowing incident had deeply upset Amelia and he wondered why, perhaps it was different for a woman to witness these atrocities on another woman. He gazed at Amelia, her curly auburn hair full of bits of twigs and leaves and tousled all over the place and asked, “Are you coping alright Amelia? How is she, still in shock? Are you getting anything coherent out of her?”

  “No, the poor girl is teetering on the verge of madness I reckon, drugged up with goodness knows what crap, she has gone through hell, bless her.”

  Jake managed to find a thin blanket to wrap around her like a shawl. As he wrapped her up he glanced around the room considering whether he could hone in and get a feel for the guy that lived there, spiritually connect with what sort of sick bastard could do something like that to a slip of a young woman.

  They discovered that the police and ambulance were on their way with the loud blaring of the sirens, so help was forthcoming. Soon she would be at the hospital, and DNA evidence gathered to ensure that the man who had committed these heinous crimes was imprisoned.

  Jake was very much like his father in having hunches, a sixth sense, and Amelia thought this incident was bad. He did not have the nerve to tell her that there was far worse to come, he could feel it approaching. He was usually right about these hunches, many coppers had a sound intuition and Jake knew something evil was on the horizon, and it was warning him, dragging him in.

  CHAPTER 2

  At ten the next morning, Detective Chief Inspector Jake Hammond and Detective Sergeant Amelia Saunders stole away to Lincoln Hospital to see whether the girl from the cabin, Gemma Fletcher, was available to talk to them.

  As they emerged through the doors the strong odour of cleaning materials hit them in the face, a pine aroma, with whiffs of lemon and bleach, which they used to disinfect the rows of plastic seating all fitted together like Lego bricks.

  There was a cacophony of noise from a group of teens attempting to scrounge money to buy their mother flowers to take up to her ward, and a few more waiting around the vending machines complaining about the foul state of the drinks.

  They meandered over to the reception area, and when the receptionist could force herself to look up from tapping, clack, clack, clack, on the keyboard, they asked her where to find Gemma Fletcher.

  When she had gone over their identification, she nonchalantly typed Gemma’s name into the hospital database, glanced at the screen monitor, and told them where she was.

  They traipsed down the bright and airy corridor, dodging the odd gurney placed strategically here and there, that eluded the exits and fire extinguishers for health and safety sake. When they arrived, two WPC’s were guarding the room. One was sitting inside waiting to see when Gemma woke up, and the other plonked down outside on guard.

  This was for security reasons, as they did not know what they were dealing with, one off job or serial rapist. Whether he meant to kill her, they were not sure, but as she knew what he looked like, they had to ensure she was secure.

  The police officer outside the room stood up as they approached. Jake said, “It’s okay Officer 401, we’re Job. I’m Detective Chief Inspector Jake Hammond and this is Detective Sergeant Amelia Saunders. We’ve come to see whether we can interview Gemma Fletcher, if that is okay with the doctor.”

  When they entered the private ward she seemed in a bad state, the nurses had tried to clean her up the best they could, but she was still a mess. She had stitches on her head where she had torn tissue the previous night, bruises, making her have the look similar to that of a zombie in ‘Night of the Living Dead’. Gemma stirred, and Jake leaned to the side of her and held her hand softly, stroking the top gently with his index finger.

  Gemma opened her eyes and glanced around her, “Where am I?” she said shakily.

  “It’s alright Gemma, you’re
in Lincoln Hospital, don’t worry, you’re safe now, and we are going to take care of you,” Amelia said.

  “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Jake Hammond and this is Detective Sergeant Amelia Saunders. I don’t suppose you remember us from yesterday, but we are the ones that found you.”

  “I do remember that you were so kind to me when I was terrified. I suspected you were the maniac that kidnapped me coming back,” Gemma said.

  “You are such a brave girl, managing to keep it together under the horrific circumstances. We have informed your parents and they are coming in soon,” Jake said.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see my mum and dad, but they won’t half be angry with me,” Gemma said.

  “They wanted to come last night, but the hospital wouldn’t allow it because you were in deep shock, and we had to check you for any DNA to help catch the man that did this to you. Are you up to talking to us yet?” Jake said.

  “Yes, of course, but can you pour me a glass of water as my mouth feels so dry and sore.” Gemma said.

  “Right Gemma, can you remember what the man looked like, what age do you suppose he was?” Amelia said.

  “Well, he was younger than my dad, and my dad’s thirty-eight. I would guess between thirty and thirty-five. He was medium build, and had a tattoo of an Indian on his arm. He had a shaven head and deep set piercing blue eyes. He had no hair whatsoever on him. No eyebrows and no hairs on his privates if you know what I mean. I think he was a bit slow on the uptake, you know, simple. As my dad would say, the lights are on but nobody’s home,” Gemma said.

  “What makes you think that Gemma?” Amelia said.

  “Well, you know, he didn’t look like he could look after himself, let alone me. He couldn’t cook, because he only ever gave me slops, and a pig would eat better. I never could smell the aroma of anything nice cooking,” Gemma said.

  “That could just mean he lived elsewhere, and just kept you there. If we get the police artist in later, do you think you could describe him if you’re up to it that is? She will ask you questions and draw a sketch of him as you describe him and then we can place it in the papers, and if we catch him, we can get a line up set up if that is OK with you?” Jake said.