Paparazzi Jo Fenton (the first e reader .txt) 📖

“So you admit to killing them?” Finn’s tone is neutral, but the solicitor murmurs in Penny’s ear.

“I don’t admit to anything except for wanting Troy.” Penny sounds mutinous, and her tone is childish.

I glance at Joanna. “She’s not normal. This is not normal behaviour even for an obsession.”

“Killing everyone who gets in the way is also not normal.” Will points at the screen. “Let’s see what else she says.”

“Tell us what happened with your friends in Huddersfield.” Finn changes tack.

“We argued. They were being really bitchy to me. Jen said I’d never get married. She said no one would want me. The others laughed and agreed with her. I don’t see why not. I’m prettier than they are, so maybe they’re jealous. Anyway, I’m pleased they’re dead. They didn’t deserve to stay alive.”

“Did you cause their deaths?”

Penny flushes after her solicitor gives her a discreet nudge. “No comment.”

The interview continues. Our suspect continues to withhold answers to direct questions regarding the murders, but gives herself away in so many other ways. She builds a picture of a lonely young girl who developed a crush on an attractive boy. But unlike most crushes, this one didn’t go away; it developed into an unhealthy obsession with a man who was not interested in her, and never would be. As a result, six people are now dead.

After the door closes behind Finn and Ian, Penny turns to her solicitor. “How did I do?” she asks. She looks almost triumphant.

“I’m going to have a hard job in court if you want me to plead innocence, but I’ll have no problems with getting a plea of insanity, if that’s what you’re after.”

“What do you mean? I’m not crazy. They had to die, and I did it. That doesn’t make me mad.”

“Penny, you killed six innocent people. That makes you either insane or evil. The court will find you guilty of one or the other. Would you prefer to be in a hospital or a prison?”

The door opens and Finn comes in. I turn to him with a finger on my lips, then point at the monitor.

“Neither. I want to marry Troy and live happily ever after.”

It’s impossible to judge whether she believes it can happen, but it’s clear to me she’s lost her grip on reality.

The solicitor shakes her head in apparent disbelief, or maybe shock, and a heartbeat later the door opens again. A couple of uniformed officers enter and remove Penny.

“They’ll take her off to the cells for tonight,” says Finn. “Do you guys want to get going, and I’ll catch up with you tomorrow?”

Chapter Forty-Three

The days that follow are filled with news coming through. Matt is less shocked than I was to discover Finn’s betrayal.

“I always knew something was wrong there. He visited you once in hospital, but then we heard nothing more from him. It smacked to me of a guilty conscience. Obviously it coincided with his rehab, so maybe that’s why he didn’t come to see you again. All the same, it just didn’t feel right.”

I accept his explanation. There’s no point asking why he said nothing at the time. I had enough to cope with. A betrayal by Finn would have been too much for my fragile mental state. I’m not able to shrug it off, but work is taking priority, and I speak to Finn almost daily as news comes through.

An initial examination of Penny’s flat reveals only her fingerprints, but the bins have not yet been emptied, and yield many items of bloodstained clothes that link the wearer to the murder scenes of the girls in Huddersfield and of Troy’s parents. The clothes are found in black bin-liners.

“How did she get them from the crime scenes?” I ask Finn by phone. “She had no car as far as I can tell. And her moped was in the garage the entire time being fixed. I kept ringing up to make an appointment to check it out, and had to cancel each time, but I don’t think it left the garage the whole time. Surely she didn’t travel on the bus in bloodstained clothes?”

He comes back to me the next day.

“They found a rucksack under a loose floorboard of her flat. Inside were bloodstained black trainers, and next to the backpack was a black t-shirt, hoody and leggings. They match an outfit that someone of her height and build was seen wearing as they got off the bus from Huddersfield in Manchester on Thursday night last week. The complete kit has gone off to forensics to check for DNA matches to tie her to that crime scene, and possibly the others.”

Another day, he calls again.

“We’ve found the knife.” He sounds triumphant.

“Well done. How and where?” I put the mobile on speakerphone so that Joanna and Will can hear. Will has just returned from Edinburgh in a clapped-out Ford Focus, which he quickly leads us to understand won’t be a fixture for long.

“Well, after we found that loose floorboard, it seemed sensible to check for others. We couldn’t find any, but one of our SOCOs stubbed her toe on the kitchen plinth, and it moved – the plinth, not her toe.”

“And?”

“Behind the plinth, there was a flattish black case, containing house-breaking tools, and a lethal-looking knife. There were signs of blood on the blade, although it had been rinsed. It’s gone to forensics for a detailed examination, and they’re taking apart the sink to check for blood in the plumbing, if that’s where she’s been washing her tools.”

“That’s impressive detecting. I hope your team will get a lot of kudos for this.”

“Sure. Someone took a photo of the bruise on Katy’s big toe, and it’s got pride of place on the case noticeboard – with the headline BIG TOE SOLVES CRIME. Not strictly accurate, but it seems to cause a lot of amusement.”

After ending the call, I search my phone for Katy (who I remember fondly from previous cases). I locate her quite easily