by S Williams
Jay opened her eyes.
Above her, the young paramedic looked astonished. Behind him, she saw the rough face of Inspector Charmers.
‘Ah, welcome back,’ he said, smiling.
The paramedic threw a blanket over her.
‘Jay, you need to stay still. I’m going to turn your head a little. Please try not to speak.’
Jay ignored him.
‘Is Joseph all right? How did you find me?’
‘He’s fine,’ said Charmers. ‘And his phone wasn’t the only one that I tracked, Starling,’ he said, pointing at her. ‘When I couldn’t raise you I followed the data point to here. And it’s damn lucky I did.’
She nodded, then closed her eyes.
‘Thank you,’ was all she could manage.
As the voices began to fade she realised she hadn’t asked about Grant.
53
4th November
Leeds Hospital
* * *
The next time Jay came to she felt a little better. Her body was still a car crash but she could at least marshal her thoughts into order.
Jay kept her eyes closed as she listened. There was the very specific silence of people being very busy very quietly; respectful of all that was happening around them.
She gingerly felt her body, gently skimming over the cuts and bruises. The pain in her knee was a deep toll, and she suspected there would be many months of physio ahead of her, possibly even surgery. She pictured the woman in Daisy’s flat, remembering the force of the kick Jay had given her.
‘Fucking cow; I hope she’s still pissing my boot.’
‘I’m sorry, did you say something?’
Jay smiled. Joseph’s voice was polite, like she’d just made a comment about the weather. She wondered how long he had been watching over her.
‘I said, I’d better not be in a fucking hospital again.’ She opened her eyes and attempted a smile at Joseph, wincing as she did so. Even smiling, it seemed, hurt.
‘You know, the doctors thought you might have suffered brain damage. Again. You’ve been swearing like a drag queen in your sleep. They thought you might have developed some form of Tourette’s syndrome.’
‘Fuck off,’ she said.
Joseph smiled. ‘Really?’
‘With bells on.’
‘Right. So I’m guessing you haven’t seen your mother sitting on the other side of the bed then?’
Jay looked at him for a moment, then closed her eyes. ‘Oh.’
‘Hello, dear,’ said her mother. ‘Loving the new look.’
Several hours later, when Jay woke again, Joseph brought her up to date on all that had happened.
‘So Slane really was with F-branch?’ she said.
Joseph nodded. ‘A subsidiary, yes. They all were. Although Fielding – the woman who impersonated Daisy – and Lawrence are dead. Killed by Grant, presumably, so there was no chance of them giving any information away.’
Jay looked at him a moment, then turned and stared at the ceiling. ‘Tell me about Slane.’
‘She was recruited out of the academy straight into The Fishermen.’
‘But how could they? I mean I understand undercover operatives have to get their hands dirty…’ she felt a deep twist of shame as she thought of the lies she’d told Daisy, ‘…but there was no way you could get someone to abuse kids.’
‘They weren’t meant to, if Slane was to be believed. Their mission was purely observational. Being on the outskirts of the cult. Gathering intelligence.’
‘Yes, but–’
‘And they chose carefully in their recruitment.’
Jay looked at him questioningly. There was something chilling in his voice. He handed her a plastic beaker. She took a sip of warm orange juice. She had to do it through a straw; Grant had bruised her jaw so badly it would barely open.
‘I’ve been given access to some of the redacted files. Not all of them, and I’ve had to sign some scary forms, but I’m beginning to get a handle on it. The authorities sought out potential recruits by checking their personal history.’
‘I’m not getting you.’
Joseph sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair.
‘They chose officers who had been abused themselves, Jay. The consensus was that it would give them a greater insight into The Fishermen’s thinking.’
‘But that’s… insane.’ The room, so bright before, seemed to shrink around them. She felt a numbing pain right in the centre of her head.
‘I know, but this was last century. The police service was unreconstructed. Then, it was considered a sign of failure to be anything but hard. Vulnerability was a weakness. The idea was that if they had survived trauma when they were younger then they would be stronger. Immune. Like what had been done to them was a virus and they had developed the antibodies.’
‘So they put in the worst possible people, people already damaged and skewed through abuse, into a dangerous and vulnerable position? Jesus…’
Words failed her.
Joseph nodded. ‘And out of the mess, you got Slane and her gang. Sleepers in our society who were just waiting for a sign to start it all up again.’
‘What about Slane? You said she told you she had Daisy. Before she was arrested. Has she told you where she is?’
Joseph looked uncomfortable. ‘She was fully immersed in some long psychosis, Jay. She told me they were everywhere. When she was on the floor, with the police screaming and Collins’ brains all around us, she told me they were everywhere and they were ready to get back in business. Then the police put a hood on her and took her out. She never told me where Daisy was.’
Jay saw the pain in his eyes. The pain and, she realised, the fear. ‘What happened to her, Joseph? Slane?’
‘She disappeared somewhere between arrest and the police station. The vehicle she was being transported in was rammed and she was removed to an unmarked van. Presumably it was Grant. The police applied location tracking software to get a map of their phone use. They discovered the van and searched the buildings around the area. They found where they believe Daisy was kept.’
‘And?’
‘She’s gone.’
‘No.’
Joseph nodded.
The room ticked around them.
‘Where is she? I can’t cope if she’s…’
Jay couldn’t finish. She stayed looking at Joseph until her mother came back in the room.
54
3rd November: after Joseph
Slane looked around the empty room.
The cot bed was unslept in.
When they’d found Daisy in Jay’s flat she’d had to laugh.
The fact that the place Daisy felt safest in was in the room of the woman who’d been lying to her was spectacular.
It gave her so much leverage to force Daisy’s becoming.
Once she had been set free she had headed straight over, ready to take Daisy away. They already had a safe house waiting for her. Somewhere remote so that the inevitable birthing pains of forcing the mermaid out would not be heard. A butterfly house.
She had hoped to use the professor to find out if any names had been compromised. If they needed to move any members from their positions. When his lecture flagged up, she thought it had been a sign; a way to phoenix the situation out of the flames.
She pursed her lips.
But it had all been a sham.
And now Daisy had gone, somehow escaped out of a locked room.
‘She’s good at that.’ Slane smiled.
No matter.
Daisy, or whatever Daisy was now, was awake and active.
Halfway to becoming.
It wouldn’t take long to find her.
Not these days.
Facial recognition.
Data location software.
It was just a matter of time.
‘Do you think he believed you?’
‘Who?’ said Slane, taking a last look around the room.
‘The professor. Skinner. Do you think he
believed the bullshit you fed him about The Fishermen coming back to take over society?’
Slane shrugged. ‘Maybe. Or maybe enough to keep the police off our back till we can get her. Come on,’ she said to Grant. ‘There’s nothing for us here. Time to find the others.’
They closed the door softly and left.
55
23rd November
Jay lay on Joseph’s daybed, looking out over the bleak windswept landscape. Antony and the Johnsons’ melancholy music bled out of the hidden speakers around the room. Anohni’s voice went beautifully with the dark light that seemed to make up the afternoons on the moor. Jay had been there for a week and was slowly recovering, letting her body heal after the trauma of the last two weeks. When the hospital had let her go, Joseph had suggested she come to the moors to recuperate.
To everyone’s surprise, including her own, she had agreed.
‘I haven’t even got a flat anymore, have I?’ she’d said, thanking him. ‘It was just a sham. A front to get me close to Daisy.’
Of course, that wasn’t the reason. Not really. She simply needed to be with someone she hadn’t lied to.
Ever.
She’d felt such a fraud. A failure as a policewoman.
As a friend. As a daughter.
Now, sitting here watching the wind scrape the moor, she just felt empty.
‘You should eat something. It’ll make you feel better.’
Jay turned and looked at Joseph. The professor’s concern for her was etched into his face, a face with more lines than when she had met him.
But then the experience they had both gone through was line-making. The discovery of the true nature of The Fishermen cult was enough to cut tramlines deep enough to sleep in. Get buried in.
She smiled at him.
‘I have.’
‘Painkillers are not food, Jay,’ he admonished.
‘No, you’re right. They need alcohol added to them for that. Could I have some wine?’
‘No. And I know you’re just ripping me.’
Jay turned back and looked out of the window.
Antony and the Johnsons were replaced with Billie Holiday as Joseph lit the fire. Jay drifted, the drugs given to heal her knee and ribs sending her into a daze. It was comfortable in the study, hearing the tap of computer keys as Joseph worked. The rattling of the windows from the wind that skimmed around the house. The gentle noise from the fire, so much like a river in its crackling.
‘Time for bed, Jay,’ said Joseph softly.
Jay opened her eyes and was amazed to see that it was nearly nine o’clock. Joseph was still sitting in front of his laptop, editing something on the screen. He had a cup of steaming coffee next to him.
‘Jesus, I must have dozed off. What are you doing?’
‘Getting the information from the data dump downloaded from Collins and co. Seeing if there’s anything useful.’
Jay stretched. Carefully.
‘Great. Maybe it will give us a lead on Daisy.’
‘Hopefully. You get some sleep. If I find anything I’ll wake you.’
Jay nodded and limped out. Between the injuries, the pills, and the guilt she craved sleep like a drug. It helped her forget.
Until the nightmares came.
56
24th November
The air was so thick with the smell of coffee Jay thought she might have to cut through it with a knife as she entered the living room, refreshed. The melancholy she had felt the previous night had lifted.
‘I think you’d better slow down, Joseph, or your heart is going to explode. Where do you get your coffee from; Sellafield?’
She looked around the living room. Beyond the window, the moors were half-visible in the grainy morning light. Inside, the fire was dying in the grate, the red embers fully settled.
‘Wait a minute, have you been up all night?’
‘I’ve been reviewing the new footage from The Fishermen,’ said Joseph mildly. ‘Correlating it with some other data.’
Joseph was sitting at his desk. In front of him were several monitors. Some had the transferred camcorder tapes from the old cult houses. Others seemed to be professional articles. One was of a breeze-block room; possibly a garage.
‘You know, you’re such a geek,’ she said fondly. ‘If you’d have been twenty years younger you’d have no socks on and be rocking a beard.’
Joseph had clearly not gone to bed. His clothes had less become crumpled than his body had crumpled inside them.
‘I did rock a beard when I was twenty years younger,’ he said indignantly.
‘Yes, but those beards were hair you failed to shave. A beard now is a metaphysical statement of intent.’
He turned away from the screen and looked at her. She was amazed she managed to keep her face straight.
‘Maybe I should grow one now?’
‘Fuck, no!’ said Jay, alarmed. ‘If you tried now it would just look like your hair had fallen off your head and got stuck on the way down.’
‘Right. And good morning to you too.’
‘Sorry, I’m just laughing to stop crying. I’m going mad thinking about Daisy.’
Jay helped herself to a coffee from the cafetière. Joseph had purchased it at Jay’s insistence when she had moved in.
‘I understand, and that’s one of the reasons I’ve been reviewing the data. There were a few things Slane said that had been niggling at my brain.’
Jay limped over and sat next to him. ‘So what have you found? In your reviewing?’
Even discussing the cult sent a deep bell of sadness through her. There had been no sightings of Daisy. Using the phones taken from Fielding, Collins and Slane, the police had found the lock-up where Daisy had been kept, but the place had been empty.
Jay pointed at the image of the breeze-block room. ‘Is that it? Where she was kept?’
Joseph nodded.
‘It was a lock-up garage on the outskirts of Holbeck, in a derelict industrial estate. Its previous use had involved heavy machinery so there was a degree of soundproofing. Given that and its location it would have been totally isolated.’
‘Makes sense.’
Holbeck was a notorious suburb of Leeds, famous for being the UK’s only legal red-light district. Large parts of the area were in a state of decay, with no company wanting to redevelop it while it had such a difficult reputation.
‘I got the lead case officer to send these to me.’ Joseph smiled tightly, looking at the screen. ‘It appears I have been elevated to psychological profiler. They’re even paying me. Which means I have access to far more meta-data than I would as a consulting professor.’
‘Psychological profiler. Cool. Probably need to get a card or something made up. For the ladies.’
Joseph ignored the jibe. ‘When the police arrived it was clear someone had been held captive. There was a new padlock on the door and the windows had been boarded up.’
Jay sighed, wondering if the woman was being tortured by Slane in some other bunker or lock-up. ‘So they have her. The Fishermen or whatever they call themselves now.’
Joseph shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
Jay turned and looked at him. ‘You don’t think so?’
He leaned forward and swiped the screen, replacing the bare room with another image. This one was lit by a flash, indicating that the space was somewhere with no natural light. A cellar, maybe, or an attic. The flash had illuminated the walls of the space.
‘This came through yesterday. I didn’t have a chance to review it until last night. It’s the crawl space above the room that housed Daisy. It’s low and narrow, the aesthetic false ceiling allowing ductwork and the electrics to be hidden. It’s only about a metre in depth. Despite the building being split into various work units, the ceiling itself is just one large space spanning the entire structure.’
Jay looked at the screen. Although there were metal heating ducts and electrical conduits, it would be perfectly possible for a person �
�� especially a small person – to crawl through in the gap between.
‘The police found a broken area of ceiling in one of the adjoining units, along with a clearly forced window. When they climbed up to investigate they found this.’ Joseph swiped again, showing a close up of the ductwork.
Jay stared at it. ‘No way,’ she whispered.
Scratched into the metal panelling were two words.
* * *
help
Daisy
* * *
‘Quite,’ said Joseph.
‘Show me the first one again. Where she was kept.’
Joseph did his swipe and flick, pulling up the original picture of the breeze-block room, along with several other shots of the space from different angles. The false ceiling, with its square removable tiles, could clearly be seen.
‘How far is that? Eight feet? There’s no way Daisy could jump up to reach that.’
‘Which is probably why Slane never thought of it or looked up there. We know she most likely came back, because the building is close to where they abandoned their getaway vehicle. Her biological data is all over the room, as is Collins’ and at least two others.’
DNA was being collected from the original building the rogue officers had taken Joseph to, along with the vehicle.
‘But the police tracked the geo-stamp from the phones to Daisy’s cell not long after Slane’s escape, so she wouldn’t have had time to search the crawl space. I think she’d escaped by the time they came for her. Look at the window.’
Jay looked. The window was high set, with a narrow ledge, really nothing more than a sill.
‘I think, if one was motivated, it would be possible to climb up to the window, hold on to the mesh, and push aside one of the ceiling tiles. Once through, the tile could be replaced. They just lift in and out, apparently.’
‘Plus Grant, and what you’ve told me about Collins, would be too fucking big to even fit up there,’ mused Jay. She stared at the images, feeling a sense of excitement. ‘And she left a message for us! To help her.’