A little prequel to that earlier chapter Too Many people to blame.

Scott & Bailey

The Stalker.

Standing in the shadows of the alleyway, which she had been doing all day, Helen Bartlett took a swig from her bottle of cheap booze, feeling the burn of the liquid as it passed down her throat into her stomach. Her head was throbbing, but Helen was able to focus mentally on what had happened to her in the past year. It had been weeks since the CPS had let her go, though she was not out of the woods yet. A part of Helen, the rational and clever part, knew the CPS were doing this to punish her for not bothering to come forward years ago to admit what her fucked up parents were doing at that hellhole.

She understood why the police and the CPS were punishing her, but what she couldn't work out at first was how the media had found out so much; it would be natural the neighbors of her former parents would be surprised and raise the alarm when the police started digging up her former backgarden, and bring out bits of human bone. But she had always assumed the police would have been discreet, that they would have kept their mouths shut about what was going on, and keep her out of it.

But no. That was what pissed off the larger part of Helen's psyche. This was the part of her that a witness had claimed was clever, malicious and dangerous in not so many words. This part was the equivalent of a mental timebomb lurking inside a volcano, fueled and stoked by the increasing levels of alcohol in her body.

As she peeked out of the hiding spot where she had a perfect view of DC Janet Scott's home, Helen had plenty of time to muse about what had caused her life to spiral out of control. It had all started the moment she had been questioned by the police all those months ago, to speak about her mother's death. Helen had many memories of her mother, very few of them were good; Eunice Bevan had been a bitch, a filthy minded bitch, married to an even filthier man, and she was glad the harpy was gone. Helen had escaped that hell with her other sister, Julie, leaving behind her brother and sister Michael and Sheila. She had never seen either of them again. Helen had changed her name from Bevan to Bartlett, and now she wished she had used her common sense to make sure there was no connection between the two names, but it was too late now. All the hard work she had put in to hiding and burying her past, looking towards the future, was gone. Irretrievably gone.

The memory that she had escaped where her other siblings had vanished, combined with the knowledge that with her murderer dad was in prison and her witch of a mum was dead, had reminded Helen of the monstrous secret laying in her former home. Helen had known for years about the basement and the garden, hell at times she had even helped carry the corpses to the garden to be buried. She remembered the number of times she had stifled a giggle before realising what she and her family were doing was not just wrong, but sick. As Helen had grown older, her parents had treated her and her siblings like dogs, raping them, beating them, and lord knew what else. She hadn't said anything because she had assumed what her parents had been doing was normal, but now she knew better.

In Helen's mind she was justified in hiding that knowledge for years, it made her complicit in a number of sexual assaults and brutal murders that would see her lose her freedom, being able to breathe fresh air, but with her mother dead and her father facing a prison sentence for her murder, Helen had known it would only be a matter of time before someone, anyone, tidied up the mess in the back garden, found the bones, called the police, and then she would be hauled in again. Helen had not anticipated a smooth ride, but she could not have guessed her sexual preference and her girlfriend, not to mention the job she had loved, would be threatened. She had been driven to the brink of insanity with the pressure of the constant interviewing, the newspapers, knowing the police had tattled on her behind her back, ruined her relationship with Louise, who now wanted nothing to do with her, and being arrested.

Oh, Helen had calmed down since then, and looking at it from a rational perspective she could understand where the police and the CPS were coming from. She was complicit, but she had hoped that because what had gone on in her parents house was a dark, secret part in Manchester's murky history, no-one would have gone forward. It was the only logical explanation behind her arrest, and it had taken her three nights to work it out. That was how out of it she had been, and Helen was very smart. She hadn't expected many people to even remember what happened last year, never mind all those years ago in a small house in an insignificant part of the city.

Helen's life had become nothing but shit since her arrest, and she knew that sooner or later it was going to get worse, and there would be no way out. But then it had occurred to her that there was a way of getting out.

She planned to kill herself.

Human beings had a survival instinct, but some were usually trying and failing to top themselves for mental problems, illness or depression. Helen had never been one of those people; if she had wanted to die, she would have stayed in that filthy pile of bricks, mortar, wood, metal and plaster that had made up her parent's dingy excuse for a house. She had survived along with her sister, but Julie had died, and Sheila and Michael had been murdered. It had taken Helen a while to accept the idea, but what did she have to live for? Louise hated her, she was being spat at in the streets, cat piss and other muck was being pelted at her, and the police and the CPS were looming in the horizon to take her away. There was nothing else for her, nowhere else to go. She could have run away, but Helen knew escape wouldn't help her in the long run. She could hide in a different city, sure, and in the UK there were quite a few. Anyone could do that. If she did that she wouldn't get away; suppose she got involved in another police investigation and her prints were matched on their database? Helen Bartlett would never be free. Besides even if she did manage to escape, the chances of finding some form of peace were low. Plus she had no real money; she'd gotten the booze by stealing it after the meagre amount of cash she had on her had dwindled, so it was too late to move out now.

Decision made, Helen formed a plan in her mind. She could have purchased a knife, which she had, but she hadn't done the deed yet. The memory of how the police had treated her had shattered her life, she wanted them to pay. She would make them pay.

That was where the first hurdle appeared. The police were not stupid, they had not admitted who had passed that sensitive information to the press, and in all likelihood it was probably never going to happen. Helen would have preferred that copper, but knew it was not likely to happen, so she gave up on getting her hands on the bastard who helped the persecution and the destruction of her life.

The alternative was simpler; she would go after one of the four women who had been at the forefront of the investigation. DSI Julie Dodson (it hurt her that her sister shared her first name with the senior copper, but Helen had decided to leave her alone because of that, but only just), DCI Gill Murray, DC Janet Scott, and lastly DC Rachel Bailey. It had taken Helen a while to find photos from press cuttings of Murray to know what she looked like, but she knew precisely where Janet Scott was, which made her a more logical choice. That was what attracted her to kidnapping Janet; she would wait by the car, surprise her, force her to drive her to Flamborough head, the first place she had felt even remotely happy in her life, and commit the deed with Janet helpless in the car.

But as she stood watching the house for the whole day, Helen's resolve crumbled as she took in the pair of kids who were clearly the copper's daughters. The old woman meant nothing to her, she knew Dorothy was Janet's mum. Even in her drunken state when she'd visited in the middle of the night that had been more than clear to her, but the two girls were innocents. Helen had vaguely noted on her previous visits to the detective's home the presence of family, but she hadn't paid much attention to it then because of her own problems, and as the day passed and the booze accelerated the passage of time for Helen, she realised something. She couldn't kidnap Janet Scott. She would terrify the girls, hurt them, and Helen didn't want that. Her grudge was with the police, not a pair of teenagers and there were only so many lines Helen refused to cross, even if she had crossed lines that should never have existed in the first place.

Then something happened to strike DC Bailey from the list on the same night. Helen had liked Rachel from the moment she'd met her, but only just. But she did respect her. In Rachel she saw a kindred spirit, another woman hardened by life and yet trying to rise above it all, and yet Rachel Bailey had been there when she had been arrested, so she was fair game. But she was surprised when Janet was visited by a blue car, and Rachel appeared, but what surprised her even more was the little girl who could only be Rachel's daughter jump out of the car with an exuberance only kids had and ran to Janet, squealing, "Auntie Janet!" Helen watched enviously as the blonde DC bent down and picked the little girl up as her mother walked over to the door, and started chatting with her friend over the little girl's head.

If Helen couldn't kidnap Janet Scott because of those two teenage girls, then how could she kidnap or hurt Rachel Bailey when it was clear she was the mother of that beautiful little girl? Helen had not gotten a good look at the child, she was too far away, but she had seen how the girl shared Rachel's hair colour. She couldn't do it. She knew that even if she tried to find out where Rachel and the girl lived, it would not help isolating Rachel from the child, and since Helen wanted to kill herself she only wanted to put two lives at risk before ending hers, and there was no space for a child in her plan for committing suicide.

Helen knew that if she forced her way into Rachel's home, she could injure the mother, take the girl, raise her herself... No. That was her parent's mindset, and even if she did that then she would still be alive, only she would be hunted down like a dog for the kidnap of a young child. Rachel would have pictures of the girl, and they would be broadcasted across the country, making it impossible for her to hide. Helen was many things, but a child kidnapper was not one of them, and she knew nothing about taking care of a baby, especially a girl who knew certain people. She doubted her mother did either, and lord knew how on earth her parents had raised her, if you could call what they had done raising children.

Helen had been reluctant to kidnap Janet, but she was doubly certain with Rachel and Julie, so that left only one person.

Gill Murray.