C .Toms-Arbel

THE MANNEQUINS begins with the grisly discovery of a murder. The victim’s body, entirely shaven and washed, is found in the heart of the Shropshire forests.

Rookie Detective Cora Steele is assigned to the case, hoping it will make her career. However, she soon discovers the high cost of her ambition. Plunged into a world of chaos, Cora and her team hunt down a predator stalking the hills of Shropshire, abducting and murdering young women.

Battling PTSD from a previous case, Cora desperately tries to solve the mystery. But as the bodies pile up she begins to feel like she is losing control.

What sets this novel apart from the myriad of crime thrillers is its focus on the killer’s upbringing. Through a series of disturbing, biographical chapters, readers gain insight into the killer’s turbulent childhood, discovering how psychological abuse can be as damaging as physical abuse.

The novel examines the toxic environment that produces a serial killer and highlights the complex developmental changes a child undergoes when deprived of basic needs.

This story combines the psychologically thrilling elements of a Thomas Harris novel with a distinctive rural British setting. It is packed with unstable characters, hopeless relationships, and personal sacrifice. The novel will appeal widely to fans of all kinds of suspense, from crime fiction to psychological thrillers.

Exclusive Sneak Peak

Picking up speed, he pedals faster, trying to rid himself of those terrible memories. He cycles past a park and feels a pang of longing at the sight of the squealing kids playing on the see-saw and swings. Yet another reminder of his loneliness. He rides even faster. It is the hottest part of the day. After a few hours of riding around the neighbourhood, the heat is unbearable. Locking his bike to a lamppost, he walks up the quiet high street, looking for some shade. A temporary sign, half-fallen, tethered on one side only, hangs down and casts a large area of shade onto the pavement. CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT. Slumping against the wall, he slips down onto his haunches in front of the old clothes shop and loses himself in morose thought. 

An hour later, he stands up and is about to leave when he notices a large skip in front of the shop. He walks up to the skip and peers over the top. Staring back up at him is a mannequin. It's missing legs, but the upper half is still in good condition. An idea materialising, he scoops it up and cycles home.                                                                               

 Sneaking past his inebriated mum with ease, the boy creeps upstairs and locks his bedroom door. Unzipping his bag, he pulls out the half-sized mannequin. He feels his pulse quicken when he notices the polystyrene humps on the chest area. With her shapely figure and unblemished bleached white skin, the boy feels a strange twinge of arousal. Its face is smooth and blank, but he imagines vain, disdainful eyes looking back at him. The same eyes he sees in the faces of the girls at school. ‘Let’s do something about that…’ he says, retrieving a red marker from the drawer. Carefully, the feeling of longing grows more intense as he fondles the doll; he draws on the eyes, nose and mouth. ‘There we go. Much better! Now, all we need is a name,’ he says to an empty room. Looking deep into her crudely-painted eyes, he says, ‘You look like a Sophie to me. Yes, Sophie, it is.’ 

Nestling into bed, the boy pulls Sophie close and cuddles her. ‘You and me are going to be best friends,’ he says, allowing his hands to caress her cold body.  

Months later, on an autumnal October afternoon, the chattering leaves of gold and scarlet dancing past the window, the boy sits with his mother watching TV. Bored, he picks up the closest magazine and reads. Announcing the latest fashion trends for women, the front cover shows a picture of a beautiful woman dressed in a fox fur coat. He is taken by how regal the woman looks, wrapped in the deep orange fur. Taking the magazine up to his bedroom, he untucks the doll, who'd been sleeping for some time. ‘I'm sorry Sophie, you must be freezing! We need to get you some clothes.’ 

He rifles through his drawers and dresses her in different clothes, but they are all too masculine. He doesn't dare go into his mum's room, so he jumps on his BMX and heads off, the swirling foliage enveloping him.                                                                                                          

 With the magazine folded in his back pocket, he heads towards the forest, an idea forming. In the heart of the forest, his eyes fix on the thick carpet of leaves beneath him. Pausing by a colossal oak, he dismounts and drops to his knees. ‘Perfect! You'll make a perfect coat for my Sophie. I'll need a few more, though,’ he says aloud while fishing out the carcass of a wood pigeon from the bracken. The boy spends the rest of the day scouring the woods for dead birds. By the time the sun is making its graceful descent, he has collected four wood pigeons, two blackbirds, a sparrow and a chaffinch. With the birds' bodies stuffed into his backpack, he cycles home, excited to show Sophie his spoils.