There's always an alternative

Let me say straight off that sitting on a sofa, stark bollock naked, wasn't the usual way I waited for my daughter to come home, so I suppose that could be described as an alternative way of going about it.

Using the internet, I tracked down the telephone number for the bakery Linda had spoken of. I rang that number and spoke to the proprietress. I told her I was a police officer with the Crime Prevention Unit and in view of the fact that a serial killer of women was operating in the area, we were strongly advising all women living or working alone to keep all unmonitored or unattended outer doors to their premises secure; especially in the afternoons when killers of women working alone tend to be at their most active. I guess that was a pretty radical alternative to actually strolling in through her back door and killing her.

I contemplated phoning the police, but they'd have found me alone in my own house with the body of a murdered female estate agent and so, quite understandably, they'd have arrested me irrespective of what I said to them by way of explanation, leaving Linda at large to seek further victims. As alternatives go, I considered that was a pretty lame one.

My master plan was simply to do whatever it took to prevent my lovely but lethal Linda from killing anyone else. Why was I naked? Good question. This was intended to be a bit of a distraction. Something to so intrigue my daughter that she'd never realise what my true intent towards her was until it was too late. To that end, I coiled up the scarlet cord and hid it under a cushion. All was ready.

Almost.