The Ladykiller by Martina Cole

worry, I’ll sort it out.’
    ‘Thanks, Kate. Give the girls my best, won’t you?’
    ‘Of course. I’ll let you know what happens, sir.’
    The line went dead in her hand.
    She walked into the living room and smiled her best smile.
    ‘I’ve got to go in, I’m afraid. A girl’s gone missing.’
    ‘Oh no . . . Who?’ Lizzy’s face was concerned.
    ‘No one you know. Look, I’ll be as quick as I can, all right?’
    ‘Mum’s on the murder-rape, Dad, she’s in charge.’
    ‘Really, Kate?’
    ‘Yes. Look, you lot catch up and I’ll be back soon.’
    She went from the room and pulled on her coat quickly. Evelyn followed her out with Lizzy.
    ‘I hope the girl turns up, Mum.’
    ‘I think she will, love, don’t worry.’
    ‘You make sure you ring me as you’re coming home and I’ll have something hot for you when you come in. Wrap up now, it’s bitter cold out there.’
    ‘Mum, I’m forty years old, you know.’ This was said playfully.
    ‘You don’t look that old, Mum. You only look about thirty-eight.’
    ‘Thanks a million, Lizzy, I feel much better!’
    ‘You don’t mind Dad staying really, do you?’
    Kate looked into the lovely face and felt a twinge of guilt. ‘No, of course not.’
    Lizzy kissed her and went back into the living room. Kate and her mother looked at each other for a few seconds.
    ‘She’s growing up at last, Kate.’
    ‘So it would seem. See you later, Mum.’ She kissed the tiny woman in front of her.
    Evelyn held her daughter’s arm. ‘You be careful out there now, with a maniac on the loose. I’ll sort out his lordship if he starts his antics.’
    ‘’Bye, Mum.’
    Picking up her car keys Kate went out into the cold night air. She felt a strange sense of relief to be out in her car. As she pulled away her mind was once more full of the investigation. They were nowhere near solving the case. It had not been planned but was a spontaneous act. Geraldine O’Leary had been murdered by a random killer. Those were the worst kind of cases. In almost eighty-five per cent of murders the killer was known to the victim, the percentage was even higher in rape cases. She honestly believed that whoever had murdered Geraldine O’Leary had not known who their victim was going to be. But even knowing this brought her no nearer to solving the case; quite the opposite in fact, it made everything harder, much harder. The door to door had not been much use, though there were a few leads they were following up. A sighting of a dark coloured car in Vauxhall Drive at about six fifty-five. They did not know the make, only that it was a saloon. It was like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. She turned right at the crossroads that led to the outskirts of Grantley and Patrick Kelly’s house. She did not need to find out his address. In Grantley, everyone knew where Patrick Kelly lived.
    Especially the police.
    Kate felt a flicker of annoyance, even though this call had got her out of the house and away from Dan. If Frederick Flowers was so worried on Patrick Kelly’s behalf, why the hell didn’t he come out here and investigate the matter himself? Normally a person had to be missing for over twenty-four hours before the police were interested, especially when it was a grown woman. It was different with children, but this Mandy Kelly was twenty-two, for Christ’s sake. She pulled into the sweeping gravelled drive and stopped in front of the large Georgian house, set in three acres of parkland. It was lit up like Battersea Power Station. Seems that massage parlours and repossessions paid well and earned friends in high places as well. Kelly’s electric bill came to more than her mortgage by the looks of things.
    The entire house was floodlit and even the trees had lights in them. You’d have no chance of creeping up to Patrick Kelly’s door without being seen. Nursing her resentment she walked up to the front door and rang the bell.
    One of the first things Kate noticed was