BLOOD STAINED an unputdownable crime thriller with a breathtaking twist (Detective Claudia Nunn Book by Rebecca Bradley (rooftoppers .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Rebecca Bradley
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‘I want to get out of here. I need to be involved in the search for Ruth. I can’t be caged up like this while she’s out there hurt and bleeding and needing me.’
Claudia choked on the lump in her throat. ‘I’m sorry, Dad. You’re most helpful in here. If you truly believe it has something to do with your current case then we need to look at it and we need you to run us through it and how Ruth got involved in it. I do need to ask you one question though, that I should have asked you earlier.’
Dominic was on the edge of his seat, all his anxiety propelling him forward. ‘What is it, Claudia?’
‘There was a broken glass in your kitchen bin when we searched the house. What do you know about it?’
He rubbed at his head. ‘I don’t . . . I don’t remember breaking a glass. Unless Ruth did at some point. I imagine it could have got in there at any time. It’s been a few days since that bin was emptied.’
Claudia shook her head. ‘Even if we fingerprint it, there’s no evidential value if your prints come back on it. After all it’s your house and it’s your glass.’
‘I’m telling you, I have no idea why it was in the bin. Accidents happen with glassware all the time.’
‘Okay. Let’s go back to the investigation, shall we?’
While she might have been willing to move on at that point, there was something about the broken glass that niggled at the back her mind.
Chapter 41
Dominic
Four months ago
Two months had passed and they were no further along in the investigation than they had been at the start. CCTV had drawn a blank on every single murder. House-to-house enquiries near the victims’ homes had not given them a single lead. They had eventually identified the third victim, who was likely to be the first victim, as Molly Jessop, a forty-six-year-old photographer, thanks to the press release.
Molly lived alone, didn’t engage with her neighbours and worked for herself, so had no workplace to report her missing. Her parents lived abroad in Spain, having moved there in retirement. She was an only child and her friends said they were used to not hearing from her for long periods as she liked to spend time alone. And as the only single woman of their age group the rest of the women had families they spent their time with, was the unsaid part of the statements. Molly had a daughter aged twenty-three who lived in Manchester and who didn’t check in with her mother particularly regularly.
Her business was doing well and a whole list of clients were contacted and investigated. One was considered as a potential suspect for a couple of weeks but eventually he checked out and the lead went cold.
There was an ex-boyfriend but he was now married to another woman and his alibis checked out for the times of death for all three murders.
Dominic had looked at Alex Chapman but though he had no real alibi there was no evidence placing him at the scene of the crime either. Whoever they were looking for was forensically aware. Chapman was a highly intelligent man and perfectly capable of being the person they were looking for. The case frustrated Dominic.
Again Molly’s mobile phone was missing but friends had said they were aware she was using a dating app on her phone. It was a fairly new thing. She liked her own company, but thought a couple of dates might be fun. It was the same app, Close to Me, that had been mentioned in the first two murders.
The American company had finally come through with the information they required. The account details of Madeleine and Julie. It had proved hopeless. Whoever they had been connected to had deleted themselves and deleted the chat messages through the account. The company did not save these messages. The team decided the dating app was what linked the women and was how the killer was connecting with them.
What they were unsure of was how he was choosing his victims. Julie had been a blonde white female, Madeleine was of mixed heritage and Molly was a brunette with dyed red tips. They were all very different women. Aesthetically speaking, he didn’t seem to have a type.
Dominic was walking back into the incident room when he was met by Kapoor heading in the same direction. He didn’t look happy.
‘Just the person I need to speak with.’
Dominic didn’t like the sound of this.
‘Can you go to Rivelin Valley Park? We have another body.’
Dominic ran a hand through his hair. ‘You’re kidding me, boss. I thought he’d finished. We’ve another? You’re sure it’s the same guy?’
There was a pause. ‘I’m sure, Dom. Nadira is on her way, if you could meet her there I’d appreciate it.’
Dominic walked to his desk and picked his keys up out of the top drawer. Kapoor trailed behind him.
‘I’m on my way.’ And with that he was out of the station and travelling to another crime scene. The fourth in the space of three months.
Nadira was climbing out of her car as he pulled up.
‘I hear we have another one allocated to the Sheffield Strangler,’ said Nadira when she saw him.
He grimaced. ‘I’m sick of this guy.’
‘You and me both. It’s not a pleasant way for these women to go. They must have been terrified knowing what was coming.’
Nadira grabbed a Tyvek suit, dropped it to her feet, lifted a leg up and hopped her way into it one leg at a time, struggling as her feet got stuck in the crinkling material and nearly flying backwards onto the ground. It was always more difficult to get into
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