“What I don’t understand is if they want her to be found why they didn’t leave her in the village somewhere?” Rhys asked. “Why go to this pretence?”
“He – they – enjoy the chase. From up here, they can sit in the village or anywhere around these parts where this bluff is visible and can watch us. I don’t doubt the bastard is out there, making sure his point has been proven,” Oliver growled.
“He – they – always seem to be one step ahead of us.” Rhys turned to look at the surrounding landscape but couldn’t see anything untoward. However, that was not to say that someone wasn’t watching them somewhere. “It so damned annoying to think that he is out there but just out of reach, and somewhere we cannot find him.”
Everyone turned to look at Oliver when spoke. “I think he is around here still and watching us. He would want the satisfaction of knowing we have found her but cannot find him. What happens if nobody ventured up here for several weeks? The foxes could have these bones and she might never be noticed. No, this was deliberately staged by someone who knew she was going to be found.”
Oliver hated to add that he felt he was right ‘in his bones’, but he had learnt a long time ago never to ignore his gut instinct. It was screaming at him that whoever had been kidnapping young women off the streets lived locally or were local enough right now to be watching them find the victim.
“Well, I don’t think we should be standing up here putting on a damned show for the bastard. Let’s get out of here,” Will hissed.
Unsurprisingly, nobody made any attempt to leave, not least because high atop the bluff, while visible to the villagers, they were at least able to have an open conversation without fear of anybody overhearing them. The killer didn’t know what they were discussing and was going to be thwarted if he expected the entire village to be cast into turmoil because of his ruthless disregard for a young woman’s life.
“Might it be that whoever is killing these women is local enough to know the village’s routines? I mean, if the butcher does his rounds twice weekly, on say a Tuesday and Thursday, the killer would know where to leave a body for him to find, wouldn’t he?” Rhys said.
“Maybe.” Oliver shrugged. “Maybe the killer wants everyone in the village to be on edge and wonder which one of them did it? He would enjoy having power over so many people.”
“But why? It’s a nondescript little village in the arse end of nowhere. Why would their fear matter to someone who is part of a kidnapping gang?” Will shifted from one foot to another to try to get some warmth back into his chilled toes.
“It isn’t the sleepy village he wants to worry. A murder will hit the headlines, won’t it? Everyone in Leicestershire is going to hear of this, and of the fact that the victim is one of the women who was kidnapped several months ago,” Oliver growled.
“He wants to worry the locals to silence them, or remind them that he is still in control, and ensure everybody knows that we haven’t done our job properly and found him yet.” Will’s gaze hardened. “We know who it is.”
Having fetched a small stick from the woods behind them, Harry carefully teased the coarse cotton of the young woman’s dress away from the obsidian marks around the mottled flesh of her neck.
“She was beautiful, if a little careworn.” Rhys tipped his head to study the perfectly proportioned features. Had she been alive, he didn’t doubt they would have given the woman a remarkably appealing visage the likes of which would have been stunning.
“She matches the description of Caroline Elkins, one of the last to be taken,” Will mur
mured.
“And one of the first to be found,” Oliver sighed.
“She has a twin sister in Leicestershire.” Will looked at the trees when he sensed movement within them.
Everyone turned to watch the pale and shaken farmer lean wearily against one of the trees. Farmer Quigley took one look at the corpse, slapped his hand over his mouth, and doubled over once more.
“We need to get her out of here,” Will added thoughtfully.
Oliver, who had been watching the hapless farmer, nodded his agreement.
“I think farmer Quigley has already sent his lad to fetch the magistrate,” Rhys replied.
“Am I to ignore the fact that we are only twenty or so miles from Smidgley Hall?” Ryan asked suddenly, broaching the subject none of them really wanted to discuss. He knew they were all thinking of the arrogant young aristocrat and his ruthless twin brother who lived only a few miles away. The Smidgley’s were the Star Elite’s prime suspects for both the kidnaps and the murders.
“We can’t ignore who lives so close,” Oliver’s voice was crisp. “They are almost daring us to prove it is either of them, if not both.”
Harry growled: “They know we have nothing on them but suspicion.”
“It’s not enough to get them behind bars where they belong, unfortunately,” Oliver warned. “We have to do better. That is all there is to it.”
They all paused to look at the sleepy village nestled seemingly harmlessly in the lee of the valley below. From their vantage point they could see the narrow road that wound lazily through the village, the left branch of which had brought them to the bluff high atop the hill overlooking the small cluster of houses. The road to the right led to the main North Road, and Smidgley Hall, just a few miles beyond that.
“There is a clear route in and out of the village from the Smidgley estate. If nobody bothered to look, someone could leave her up here under the cover of nightfall and be back home again pretty quickly, couldn’t they?” Will ran a frustrated hand through his wind-ruffled hair.
“But she wasn’t dumped during the night. The villagers saw the killer up here, remember?” Rhys squinted at the horizon, and the very edge of the Smidgley estate which was clearly visible from where they stood on this stormy morning.
“It’s brazen, but I doubt anybody who saw someone up here would be able to pick out any distinguishing features. That makes the killer visible, but not so visible,” Will mused.