The Swap Skills Killer Page 7

  When he got outside the sky had darkened and it had started to piss it down so he scurried along the road like a rabid rat, as he did not want his hair to get wet because the mousey brown tint that turned out a shitty brown might run down his face.

  When he got back to the office it was quite full, people were queuing to write their names down for the free trip. A very irate person was complaining that he had not received minutes of the last meeting and that he was a Board Member and expected to be one of the first to get them. Rachel assured him she would get him another copy.

  As Harry lowered himself down into his seat to eat his lunch he noticed that the development manager, Adam, was in a meeting with a man he had not seen before. He was trying to earwig in on the conversation but the office junior was jabbering away about all and nothing. He turned and asked her in a curious tone.

  “Who is the man in with the development manager, he looks familiar but I can’t think of the name,” Harry said.

  “Oh you will have seen him around; he’s Detective Chief Inspector Jake Hammond, who happens to be Rachel’s brother, and what a hunk of a man he is. His father was a copper too, but he had to take early retirement through an incident at work so they reckon,” Becky said.

  “Yes I realized that I had seen him before, might have been when there was a kerfuffle on our road last month, some kids messing around, scratching cars, pinching radios, that sort of thing, random acts of vandalism,” Harry said.

  Now isn’t that a turn up for the books, he has to be the son of Superintendent Frank Hammond, Fearless Frank the Press called him. All one big happy family here and the first kill on my return to Horncastle being a Hammond too. Could be an opportune time to get payback on the old fart for trying to meddle in my affairs.

  He was trying to set a plan of action in his mind but Becky, the office junior, was prattling on about how she enjoyed working at the Forum and the different events she had attended and it was aggravating him because he could not concentrate.

  She was using the guillotine to slice the flyers to A5 size and in his mind, he was imagining murder, and what he wanted to do to her to shut her up.

  Slicing her fingers off one by one, whilst hearing her screams as her eyes gleamed in horror, and placing them in padded bags and sending them to the addresses on the Forum mailing lists. Smashing her head to pulp with the lid of the photocopier until her brains poured out of her skull. Stabbing her in the back with the scissors, or stabbing her in the eye with the pencil she was annoyingly twiddling with her fingers. What he could do with a bulldog clip you would not want to know, the list was endless and imagining it brought a tingling feeling to his loins.

  Rachel coming across and sitting her pert little arse on the edge of the desk, giving him thoughts of sexual sadism, and memorizing his favourite way of achieving that through mind games with his victims, awakened Harry from his morbid ruminations.

  “I forgot to tell you Harry that we have a seaside trip coming up on Saturday, a day trip to Skegness, so if you want to tag along you are welcome. We will all be there; I have even talked my mum and dad into coming for the Forum get together. All we ask is that you bring your own packed lunch and refreshments or, if you can afford it, you can splash out in one of the local restaurants, which a few of us do, or get a bag of fish and chips and sit on a bench on the sea front.”

  “Sounds great.” Harry shrilled.

  “Also if you could bring along a camera to take a few photos for monitoring and evaluation purposes and proof of deliverables of the project, to secure our funding for next year,” Rachel cooed.

  “Oh, that would be great; I’m a keen photographer so the photos will be very professional. It seems like ages since I have had a paddle in the sea and lounged on the beach. I am quite partial to aniseed rock and replenish my stocks in Skegness. You can get the jars or sticks there; it’s much better and stronger than the packets bought locally,” Harry chirped.

  “Oh, glad you’ve decided to join us,” Rachel said.

  “There’s nothing better than sitting outside a sea front café, with a bag of fish and chips and a nice cup of tea watching the world go by. I can’t wait.” In addition, humming away ‘I do like to be beside the seaside’. Are you coming too Becky?” asked Harry quite giddily.

  “Be outside the Forum for 8am on Saturday.” Rachel shouted as she flitted away.

  CHAPTER 16

  Jake asked Amelia to go with him to the Forum offices so that they could go online to the Swap skills Web site to try to contact the killer, to meet up with him about a tiling job.

  Jake was not happy to get Rachel involved with the scheme, but she had nagged at him persistently that this was the only way to approach it. There was only one man on the site advertising tiling work swaps. Adam set up another Gmail account and she used the name Rebecca.

  Rachel went online and messaged the killer:

  Dear Tiler Man,

  I have come across your advert on the Swap Skills Site and wonder whether you would be interested in doing a swap. Twelve cookery lessons or home baking for your freezer for so many weeks for tiling my conservatory.

  If you are not interested in cooking lessons or savouries for your freezer, I could offer so many free haircuts as my husband is a barber. He owns a barbershop, but I prefer not to get my husband involved because I want to surprise him with the tiling job whilst he is out at work one day.

  Kind Regards

  Rebecca

  Harry Mason promptly replied:

  Dear Rebecca,

  I am very interested in your message. Twelve Cookery lessons sounds very good, or baking for my freezer. I think we will keep it as a surprise for your husband, I like surprises myself, so it would be nice to surprise your husband with an excellent tiling job.

  I can take you to see some of the tiling jobs I have undertaken. My clients are always happy to show off their kitchens.

  Can we meet to discuss our mutual swap at the Cafe in the park, near the children’s play area in Horncastle on Friday at 3.30pm?

  Thanking you in anticipation.

  Tiler man

  Jake told her to reply ‘Yes’ to confirm she would be there.

  Now Jake and Amelia felt jubilant, as if they were really getting somewhere, having an appointment to meet with the killer, so they hoped. It made them cheer up enough to send Becky to the sandwich shop to get a selection of cakes to have with a brew.

  CHAPTER 17

  Friday soon came around, and Rachel was making her way to meet the killer. As she sauntered through the park, her spirits were lifted, after so many months of cold weather and brown landscapes, spring has brought her a renewed sense of optimism, though sadness still for the death of Penny.

  Her spirits were high and she felt that she would get out more in the garden. People are more positive, friendly and kind in the spring. She could see all the daffodils popping out around the trees, her favourite flower, and she was very tempted to pick a few to take home.

  She decided that this spring she was going to have a good clear out, throw some of her older clothes away and treat herself to some new ones. Jake was always telling her that she should spend some of her money on more modern clothes, so she decided after Penny’s funeral she would book a weekend in London and spend, spend, spend. Perhaps she would ask her mother whether she wanted to tag along to, take in a show and a couple of nice meals.

  She was determined to get her man and the sooner the better, as she wasn’t getting any younger and her parents were always telling her and Jake too, to settle down as they wanted grandchildren and were always hinting that it would good to have grandchildren to stay weekends and take to the seaside.

  Rachel was very attractive; she had the same copper coloured hair as Jake, but had brown eyes and a splattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose. With her being a size ten, she had no problems getting clothes that are more fashionable, she just concentrated on buying suits for work, but that had to change now. She would never mee
t the man of her dreams dressed like a frump.

  Then she remembered the reason why she came to the park, to meet the killer, or so they imagined. Jake and DSupt. Blackwell hid in the park, in the bushes behind the picnic area, ready to pounce if there were any threats from the perpetrator.

  Meantime Harry Mason was standing on the bandstand and little did they know from there he could see them through his binoculars. Admittedly, not a hundred per cent, but he knew that it was a set up because it was Rachel that was sat in the picnic area of the small Cafe in the park, where he was supposed to meet the woman that wanted the tiling doing.

  Do they think I am daft and that I would not stake out the meeting place beforehand?

  They were obviously suspicious of my tiling advert and had been snooping on the victims computer and realized that she had an appointment with my tiler profile to do a swap, and are trying to catch me through setting up another swap.

  He stood up and placed his binoculars back in the case, picked up his sandwich box and took the last swig of his mineral water; put the bottle in his backpack. He then took in the views and thought it was not a waste of time as he had a lovely time then scurried back to his car that he had parked on one of the side streets off the park.

  He was not going to take a chance hanging about and being seen, besides they might get curious why he was in the park during their stakeout and might start asking questions.

  Rachel waited half an hour in case he was late, and then she shouted the back up to come out of hiding because obviously it was a ‘no show’.

  CHAPTER 18

  The room was dark and oppressive, two brown cracked leather settees, with two patchwork throws on them and scatter cushions that had seen better days. The nets were nicotine stained giving them the look of old and grubby because of the dust and grime gathered on them. The worn gingham curtain fabric should let the light pass though, but instead they cast a murky shadow over the room giving it an antique look, as if it was set back in the twenties.

  The tablecloths had turned yellow with nicotine, and cobwebs trailed along the top edges of the curtains and a layer of dust on all the furniture, but that’s what you get living in the countryside, as well as the smells of muck spreading and chicken poop.

  Time had passed since Harry Mason had killed Penny, and he started getting the itch again, and although he had only come back to seek revenge on the Hammonds he guessed it was time for another murder. He smiled with apprehension of what today’s swaps held in store for him. Would he have any new messages or were there any new swaps.

  He moseyed over to his computer desk, which had post-it notes, to remind him of things to do, fired it up and decided to look for another victim. Realization hit hard when he saw the website was down for maintenance purposes they said.

  His mouth twisted into a sneer and he lashed out ferociously knocking his drink off the table in anger, along with a few other things that fell to the ground and smashed.

  He was incensed that someone might have caught onto what he was doing, delving into his plans and causing him strife. He stood up and started pacing around the room, slamming his fist into the wall not feeling the pain, then wrapping his arms around himself and squeezing tight; if he did not take a breath soon he would turn blue in the face.

  The bitch must have told someone that she had an appointment at the café to talk about a swap for tiling work. That must be why they took the site down, or maybe he was just jumping to conclusions and they were really doing maintenance work.

  He sat leaned against the wall banging his head back on the wall. Then his thoughts went back to his childhood and he was imagining what his mother would say, and slapping himself in the face and saying with a shaking, rage-filled voice “Stupid, stupid, stupid that’s what you are.” He would not have his mother laughing at him, recollecting having all this before. He had to cope when his father left him, with his stupid mother who tried to control him and dominate his life.

  She was nothing more than a whore, bitch and drunkard. As soon as she received her benefits, she would stand in the queue in the post office and spend half of her money on lottery scratch cards, and the other on booze and cigarettes, leaving a few pounds for essential groceries.

  She had her petty little cliques that came into her life and left as soon as they had sucked her dry, scum of the earth, wipe them out, they are nothing but objects.

  She would lock him in his room for days with nothing but bread and water. When he wet his bed she would beat him and torment him by saying “You are still pissing your pants at twelve years old, I will have to get you some nappy pants to sleep in so that you don’t have to lay in your pee. What would your friends at school say; they would not want to play with a pee baby.”

  He could not hack it, and felt like killing her immediately. Hide until the next time she comes in. Jump out of the wardrobe with a knife and stab her in the heart, but he did not want to end up in some terrible detention centre till he was old enough to go to prison, besides he did not have a knife up here.

  She even turned her eye from the sexual abuse from his father, and his friends, and then later on he had to suffer abuse through some of the foster carers when they did not like him torturing the little animals. He realized it was fun to pull the legs off his stick insects and plonked his hamsters in the microwave to see if they exploded.

  This got him some appointments with the psychiatrist, and did he have some fun with them, he lied so good even he thought he was telling the truth.

  His neighbours noticed that they had not seen him around, and the school truancy officer came out several times to see why he was absent from school, but his mother used to say that he was staying with an aunt at the seaside because he had been unwell for several weeks and the sea air would help him get better.

  In the end the social services got suspicious, found out there was no aunt, and the social workers took him into care. After that, he could only see his mother through contact workers that picked him up from the foster carer or children’s homes and took him to a contact session. He did not like those sessions because the workers used to watch and write notes down, but at least his mother did not beat or ostracise him in their presence.

  These women were all the same as his mother, filth; they just wanted men for what they could get. His mission was to take them and wipe them out making the world a better place to live. No one would get in his way because he was far cleverer and superior and no one could manipulate people better than him, after all killing was his trade.

  So, they had taken the web site down and he couldn’t get any new contacts, but he still had loads that he’d contacted and had no reply, or they weren’t interested in the skills he had to offer on the ‘What have you’ section of the site. He just had to change his modus operandi, instead of doing tiling work and flooring, he would continue with his volunteering for the Forum, and get to the Hammonds that way. Although it made things awkward he was not worried, and he just had to change his plan.

  He had a very good talent as a charmer, and he had the knowledge to talk about any skill, he would go to their houses rather than meet up with him for him to show them some of the jobs he had undertaken. In addition, he had the trip to Skegness, he would take his camera and take some shots and see if he could chat to some girls. He liked a challenge; it is all part of the hunt, the excitement of the lead up to the kill.

  CHAPTER 19

  On the Saturday Harry Mason was up early to go to the seaside. He had his usual breakfast two cups of coffee, toast and marmalade and an orange juice. He found, as he got older he had to take breakfast because he could not travel on an empty stomach as he used to.

  He made a packed lunch of ham, cheese and tomato sandwiches. Egg and salad cream were his first choice, he fancied a change from his usual, but he decided against that because of the smell and he did not want folk to think he had passed wind. That would not do when he was a man wanting to form an impression. After throwing in a couple of cartons
of orange, a bag of cheese and onion crisps and a chocolate bar in his backpack he was good to go.

  It was a nice sunny day, a clear azure blue sky that put him in a good mood. He was smiling as he drove to the Forum, excited that he was about to meet Frank Hammond after all these years. What would he be like, he must have aged, and would he have scars – physical or psychological?

  He even recalled the press coverage at that time, the police saying that odds on he will be caught soon as he would become careless. This puts him off, also Frank had foiled his plans because he found out where he was, then he had to leave that situation, and it pissed him off because he had paid a year’s rent up front, as he could not present any references. He decided that he would have his revenge on Frank’s family this time around.

  He excitedly stepped out of the car, and heard the children laughing and chattering to the parents, who were trying to keep them orderly as the coach was pulling in. Rachel approached him and introduced him to her parents.

  “Hello Harry I’m Frank Hammond and this is my lovely wife, Maria. We’ve heard so much about you off our Rachel, says you’re a godsend to the Forum.”

  “Oh, glad to meet you too, we could sit together on the coach as I don’t know many of the folk here. I am sure Rachel is exaggerating a bit about my volunteering. I would like to take on a bit more but I have the farm to see to,” Harry said.

  “So you’re a farmer?” Frank said.

  “Well, nothing big, just a small-holding with a few chickens, ducks and a couple of goats, keeps the grass down, less to mow. I hire myself out ploughing land and hiring farming equipment, grass cutters, mini diggers etc.” Harry said.

  “Does that give you much work, there doesn’t seem to be much money in farming anymore?” Frank said.