On My Skin: A London Crime Thriller (DCI Arla Baker Series Book 13)

A young woman is found brutally strangled outside Battersea Park, her body carelessly discarded like a rag doll. Detective Chief Inspector Arla Baker is called to the scene. 

The woman, Julia, led a double life. She was in touch with criminals unknown to any of her friends. As Arla digs into Julia's life, she finds secrets that some will keep to kill buried...

CHAPTER ONE

The drizzle came down in a drumming pattern, the drops dancing on the pavement to its rhythm. It was late evening, and the street was clearing out fast. Julie didn’t have her umbrella, and given it was summer, she only had a light coat on. She folded the newspaper in her pocket and held it over her head. It wasn’t much use, the rain was now strengthening into a downpour. The paper got soaked within seconds. Uttering a curse for the usual British weather, she grimaced and moved faster, her heels not helping matters. Where was a pub when she needed one?
Earlsfield in south west London was normally a buzzy place, but it was late, past closing time for the pubs. Julie saw a shop awning and headed for it. She didn’t see the dark figure who came in behind her, and took shelter. She got to the awning, and ducked under it, breathing a sigh of relief. She turned and yelped in fright.
“Sorry,” the man raised his hands. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I’m also trying to escape the bloody rain.”
“No problem,” Julie said, glad she had some escape from the awful weather. She glanced at the man, making sure he was standing well away from her. He was looking at her, and averted his face when their eyes met. He was young to middle aged, about six feet tall. He wore dark trousers and jacket, with trainers on his feet. His hands were thrust into his pockets as he stared out into the street.
Julie looked around her. The street was empty. The pubs and bars that lined Earlsfield High Street had shut, but the lights in the train station were still on. A couple ran out from the station, into the rain, towards the waiting headlights of a taxi. Julie watched the yellow beams of the taxi turn in her direction briefly, then swivel away. She looked after the departing taxi with some longing. That could’ve been her escape as well.
She took her phone out, and a flicker of movement caught her eyes. The man was looking at her again. He passed a hand over his hair, and kept staring at her. A spasm of concern tightened Julie’s skin, raising bumps across her arm. She held the phone, and looked around again. The station lights were bright, but too far to run in this weather and not get soaked. Her heels made it worse. The last thing she wanted was to sprain her ankle, or slip and fall. Both of which had happened in the past, after a few drinks. Julie now cursed herself for staying till last orders at the pub. She was meeting up with three girlfriends she hadn’t seen for years, and she didn’t know how the time had passed.
The man took a step towards her. Panic now blossomed in her heart like a poisonous tree sprouting thorns. She took a step backwards. She glanced at her phone quickly, there were no Uber’s around for the love of money.
“I’m sorry,” the man said, holding up his hands. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say you looked familiar.”
Julie couldn’t see his face properly. It was dark underneath the awning, and the streetlights, obscured by the rain, slanted in to fall around his legs. His upper body remained mostly in darkness.
“I do?” she asked, wondering she was even speaking to this stranger. She had edged closer to the elements, the splatter of rain fell on her ankles. If she had to run away from this weirdo, did she have time to take off the bloody heels?
No, she didn’t.
The man didn’t come any further forward, which was a relief. She noticed his hands were out of his pockets, hanging loosely by his side.
“Yes. You’re Maurice’s daughter, aren’t you? Maurice Chapman.”
Julie frowned in surprise, and confusion. “You know my dad? How?”
The man came forward by a couple of steps. Julie gulped, still wary. She thrust the phone in her purse, and tightened her grip on the strap around her shoulder. The man stopped, observing hair. Julie could make out he had curly, dark hair. She still couldn’t see his face properly.
“I’m a distant cousin. You have an uncle Jimmy who lives in Montana?”
Julie narrowed her eyes. “Yes, I do. Not seen him in a long time. How are you related to him?”
“I’m his son from his second marriage. You’ve probably not heard of me. My name is Lukas.”
Julie had not heard the name. She was vaguely aware that uncle Jimmy had got married again, but that was a long time ago. She hadn’t spoken to her dad about Uncle Jimmy for many years.
“I don’t know who you are. How did you know I was going to be here?”
He observed her silently for a few seconds, and Julie felt that stab of fear again. Her hands tingled. This didn’t feel right at all. Her mind wrestled to understand why, or how, Lukas had followed her here, if he indeed was family.
“I asked your father. He told me that you were coming out here tonight.”
The frown on Julie’s face grew deeper. She did text her dad, in reply to his earlier phone call. She’d told him she was going out for the evening to meet some friends in Earlsfield. Julie lived in Clapham, which wasn’t far on the train. But she didn’t tell her dad exactly where she was going in Earlsfield. Even if Lukas had spoken to her dad, how was he aware of which pub she had been in?
Julie started backing up further. The rain lashed against her shoulder now, striking her face.
“I need to speak to dad. I’ve got to go.”
She turned to walk out of the awning, as fast as she could. Lukas moved in a blur of blackness, one arm reaching out like a tentacle and grabbing her elbow. Julie was yanked back, and she screamed. A hand clasped over her mouth, and the back of her head thudded against his chest. He wrestled her to the ground, dragging her deeper into the shadows. He placed her behind a row of wooden boxes, hidden from any passer by on the deserted road.
Julie kicked with her legs, and tried to bite his hand, but his fingers were iron hard, digging into her lips so hard she thought her teeth might crack.
She felt the cold ground on her back, and he was on top, sitting astride her chest. One hand remained clamped over her mouth as he leaned forward.
“I’ve been waiting so long for this. Don’t fight, we’re just getting to know each other.”