Daisy in Chains(20)
‘But his true nature couldn’t be suppressed?’
‘Can it ever?’
Her eyes widen. ‘His dog is called Daisy.’
‘I know. And that really turns my blood cold. Because he got that dog just before he started killing again.’
Chapter 14
DRAFT
THE BIG, BAD WOLFE?
By Maggie Rose
CHAPTER 4, MYRTLE REID’S FAIRYTALE TURNS DARK
Myrtle Reid was twenty-three years old, the youngest and also the largest of the four victims. Living at home with her mother, her four siblings, her fifth stepfather (although I’m not sure her mother ever actually married) it seems fair to say her life wasn’t especially happy or fulfilled.
Not particularly bright at school, with no obvious talents, Myrtle was never going to be one of life’s high achievers. Leaving school at sixteen, she did a string of minimum-wage jobs, not managing to hold down any of them for more than a few months.
Myrtle’s best feature was probably her thick, long dark hair. Whether it made up for poor skin, heavy, black-rimmed spectacles and crooked teeth is another matter. As she’d never had a boyfriend that we know of, the chances are it didn’t.
Myrtle’s one great passion, verging on obsession, was Disney. Her Facebook page featured little else. Her Tumblr blog consisted of daily, short, misspelt postings about films she’d watched, news items she’d read about the theme parks and her thoughts on characters, their costumes, even their relationships.
Her profile picture on Facebook, taken a few years earlier, showed Myrtle at Disneyland Paris, wearing Mickey Mouse ears, and standing next to Mickey and Minnie. The cover picture showed her bedroom at home, practically a museum of Disney memorabilia.
Myrtle spent all her spare money on Disney toys, clothes, posters and pictures. It was an obsession that was to cost her her life.
She had few friends in real life and few real friends on Facebook. Most of the people she interacted with were those who shared her interest, whom she’d encountered on the various Disney-related pages on the site. One of these ‘friends’ claimed to be a seventy-two-year-old grandmother called Anita Radcliffe. If Myrtle had been as smart as she was passionate about all things Disney, she might have spotted that Anita Radcliffe is the name of a character in 101 Dalmatians.
Anita Radcliffe was yet another fake identity. The police discovered very quickly that ‘her’ posts all came from the same computer that had hosted Harry Wilson’s and Isabelle Warner’s email accounts. Harry Wilson and Anita Radcliffe were even Facebook ‘friends’ – how twisted is that?
On 12 February 2013, Myrtle spotted a posting on her page from Anita Radcliffe. Anita had been browsing through Myrtle’s photographs and had been struck by a picture of Myrtle in a Snow White costume.
‘My oldest granddaughter looks about your size,’ Anita wrote, ‘and she’s desperately looking for a Snow White costume for a party. Do you mind me asking where you got yours?’
The two women began chatting. With the benefit of hindsight, it’s easy to see how easily Myrtle was played. On Myrtle’s birthday, Anita posted a Disney-themed card on her page, writing:
‘Wishing a wonderful day to my new friend in Disney. Lots of joy, my sweet young friend.’
When Myrtle posted a rather obvious comment about the relationship between Marlin and his son, in Finding Nemo, Anita complimented her on her insight.
‘Watching Find Nemo for the millionth time, LOL. Wanting to scream at Marrlin to let the kid grow up, ffs.’
‘That’s quite insightful of you, Myrtle. Over-nurturing our children leads to co-dependency that becomes hard to break in later life. I sense, from your maturity and strength, that you come from a large family, in which everyone was encouraged to stand on their own feet from an early age. Am I right?’
‘Dead right, clever lady. Five of us at home, + mum and garry. never a moments piece.’
Anita began laying her trap. Every few days, she’d post a photograph of a piece of Disney memorabilia, supposedly that she’d bought years earlier for her grandchildren. She started to hint that it was all languishing in the loft, gathering dust and taking up space. Some of the pieces she showed were quite rare, selling for over ￡100 on eBay. Myrtle’s covetous nature was awoken.
At the same time, Anita’s interest in her, her willingness to talk and ask her opinion, spoke to the self-esteem of a young woman who had little in her life.
Of all the victims, Myrtle was probably the easiest prey.
On 19 October, Anita sent Myrtle a message.
‘Dearest Myrtle, I feel we have become friends and, even if what I am about to say is unacceptable to you, I hope and pray that you won’t take offence, my clever, funny young friend. I have decided, after much soul-searching, to leave my house and move into somewhere smaller.
‘The reason for writing is to ask if you would like my Disney collection? My grandchildren have no use for it any more. Of course, I know I could sell it and probably get quite a lot of money for it, but I have no need of money. I’m not boasting, I know you know that, I’m just telling the truth because I want you to understand my wish that the collection goes to someone who will treasure it.’
It hardly seems necessary to record Myrtle’s reply. Of course she wanted the Disney collection. Anita kept her waiting for a few more weeks, but eventually, on 4 November, they agreed to meet. Anita offered to collect Myrtle at a bus stop on the outskirts of town.