The Trophy Killer

THE TROPHY KILLER An absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist MICHELLE KIDD DI Nicki Hardcastle Series Book 2 Joffe Books, London www.joffebooks.com First published in Great Britain in 2023 © Michelle Kidd This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this. The right of Michelle Kidd to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. We love to hear from our readers! Please email any feedback you have to: [email protected] Cover art by Nebojša Zorić ISBN: 978-1-80405-971-5 CONTENTS Love Free Bestselling Fiction? Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Message from the Author Love Free Bestselling Fiction? The Joffe Books Story Also by Michelle Kidd A Selection of Books You May Enjoy Glossary of English Usage for US Readers Love Free Bestselling Fiction? Join our mailing list and get a FREE Kindle book from a bestselling author every week! Click here to join our mailing list and also get a free box set of short stories! Follow us on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram @joffebooks Chapter One Thank you for choosing this book. Join our mailing list and get FREE Kindle books from our bestselling authors every week! CLICK HERE TO GET MORE LOVELY BOOK DEALS Thursday 27 December 2018 The Theatre Royal Westgate Street, Bury St Edmunds Hugh Maxwell bit his lip, feeling the sweat breaking out on the palms of his hands. At that precise moment, standing in the corridor outside the Sir Isaac Newton box in the dress circle of the Theatre Royal, he was ashamed to say that he had no idea what to do. For all the hours upon hours of major incident training he had received in the wake of the rise in the country’s terror threat level — the numerous emails, video conferences and PowerPoint presentations he’d had to endure in order to ‘tick that box’ and make him ‘competent in a crisis’ — everything deserted him in an instant. I don’t know what to do. Voices clamoured for his attention, but all he heard was a muffled collection of incomprehensible words as though he were underwater, drowning in the very air that should sustain him. With his vision swimming in and out of focus, his heartbeat reaching a crescendo, he merely stood rooted to the spot; paralysed. I don’t know what to do. After what seemed like an eternity, the moment passed and a clarity of sorts returned. With his vision clearing, he noticed one of the newest members of his team standing opposite, a look of bewilderment on his young, pale face. Clearing his throat, Hugh wiped his clammy hands on the sides of his neatly pressed trousers and beckoned the young employee forward. “Take Mr Fisher to my office.” He gestured towards an elderly gentleman standing to the side, the old man’s ice-white hair almost the same colour as his face. “Set him up with a cup of tea, and I’ll be along in a moment or two.” The employee dutifully took the old man by the elbow and guided him back along the corridor. Two elderly ladies hovered in the background, one clutching a souvenir programme, the other a packet of mint humbugs. Hugh tried a smile. “And why don’t you both go along, too? A nice hot cup of sweet tea?” The women didn’t need asking twice and soon scuttled off out of sight. Alone in the corridor once again, Hugh Maxwell took in a deep breath and brought the two-way radio to his dry lips. “Carlton?” The radio gave a faint crackle in response. “Block off all the access corridors to the dress circle. Let nobody else through.” He paused, his eyes straying towards the closed door of the Sir Isaac Newton box. “On second thoughts, let’s get everyone outside. Tonight’s performance is cancelled.” * * * The Farmhouse The last sinewy tendon divided cleanly beneath the sharpened blade. It always amazed him how little blood there was when the heart had already been stilled. Clean. Neat. Just how he liked it. Lucie had been her name — not that it really mattered much anymore. Adjusting the overhead lamp, he focused the beam of light on to the woman’s exposed forearm and sighed contentedly. It was a near-perfect job, even if he did say so himself. Textbook, even. Gripping the sharpened scalpel in a steady hand, he sliced through the remaining tissue with ease. The procedure itself had been straightforward enough — severing a hand took little or no skill when it really came down to it — but he had taken his time with her anyway. Lucie deserved that at least. They all did. Briefly, he let his eyes wander towards his watch, his stomach muscles clenching in anticipation. Very soon his first offering would be discovered — if it hadn’t been already. The play was due to start in half an hour. The thought made his usually steady hand begin to tremble. The game was about to begin. Part of him wished he could be there to see the shock and horror for himself, but Lucie needed him right now. So, with another twitch of his lips, he steadied