Blood List

by Ali Carter

  Harry picked up the little SOCO bag and re-read the name on the brown plastic medicine bottle that sat inside it. Jason Flood. Flood… Why did he know that name? Flood… J a s o n… Flood. He felt he should know it and yet… He jumped up from his desk then and yanked his door open to the main office.

  “Walker!” He yelled over the heads of several un-surprised secretaries and a team of murder squad officers bogged down with paperwork. The hunt for what had now become a serial killer dominated the small town station. Several large white boards that bore photos of the three dead women, all of which shared the same grotesque chest wounds, had been erected across the back wall. Information added to them as it came in. “Get in here!” bellowed Longbridge. “I need your clear head and instant recall for a moment!” The young PC hurried across the room and presented himself.

  “Sir?”

  “The name Flood… d’you remember it? Heard it recently? Haven’t we spoken to a Flood locally about something?”

  “Yes sir it was at the Courier newspaper.” Joe Walker pulled out his pocket book, flipped over the front cover and pushed the first few pages over. “There’s a Jenny Flood, a young single woman who works for the paper, only started a week or so back – we interviewed the whole place with regard to the first murder of Ms. Rachel Dern on account of how Miss Dern used to work there.”

  “Did Miss Flood supply any family information? It’s a longshot but SOCO picked up some medication dropped at Dorrington Woods, made out to a Jason Flood. Not that uncommon a surname but you never know.” Longbridge picked up the bag that contained the bottle and read its label out loud. “Clozapine – from a pharmacy in Bradenthorpe. I’ve checked it out on the net, apparently it’s a drug that controls schizophrenia. Where did this Jenny Flood come from?”

  “I don’t have any family information sir, but she did move here from Bradenthorpe. Got her most recent address though, we could pay her a visit outside of work – see her on her own turf this time?”

  “Good idea. Do that.” Take a WPC with you.” Harry glanced at his watch, it was 6.30p.m. “Go now, before she gets a chance to disappear off out somewhere. To wherever or whatever it is young female reporters do of an evening.”

  “Right sir. I’ll take WPC Moorcroft with me shall I?”

  “Suit yourself. It’s just for a second pair of ears and eyes… and well y’know… just in case she gets emotional.” He threw Joe a ‘you know what I mean’ look. “Report back to me before you go off duty though – got that?”

  “Yes sir, will do.” Joe turned on his heel and marched quickly out of Longbridge’s office as Denise McBride walked back in holding a large bag of barley sugars. A bright red 50% ‘Extra Free’ star was splashed right across the front. That should put him in a good mood she thought as she dropped it purposefully in front of him. Harry immediately ripped into the plastic and sent half the contents scattering across his desk and the other half irritatingly out of reach as they bounced straight onto the floor. Denise made her escape before the yelling started…

  “Jason – get that would you?” Jenny called out from the small kitchen that sat snugly off the flat’s lounge. “The door Jason – there’s someone at the…” Suddenly she wondered just why there would be anyone at her door at 6.45p.m. in the evening. It would hardly be Miles, not so soon, and she wasn’t even sure there should be a repetition – despite everything. Her feelings – her plans – her life… She’d hardly had time to make any real friends, so not work. Who then…?

  “Got it Jen,” called out her brother, “was just in the bathroom.” He was halfway down the steep narrow staircase when Jenny’s head appeared behind him at the top. His hand was on the doorknob – her mouth opened to form the words ‘Jason - No!’ but it was too late, he’d already opened the door. The two police officers that filled its frame surprised both of them – but Jenny felt sick, a lot sicker than usual.

  Jason sat opposite his sister in the lounge and couldn’t understand why she looked so pale. He was beginning to think Charlotte had reported his break-in into the surgery after all, but surely Jenny couldn’t know anything about that? Joe Walker and Suzanne Moorcroft looked at each other and both registered the same thing. With the striking resemblance between these two in front of them, this lad had to be some sort of relative to Jenny Flood if not her actual brother. Joe looked directly at Jason and came straight to the point.

  “Can I have your name sir?” Jason shot a glance at his sister who still looked distinctly uncomfortable – but why?

  He faltered slightly, eyes on Jenny but spoke to Joe.

  “It’s… Jason… Jason Flood”. The two officers exchanged glances again but now Suzanne left the room and closed the door behind her. The occupants left in the lounge could hear her low muffled voice from the small box hall. Joe continued.

  “Are you a relative of Miss Flood?” He gestured towards Jenny who sat silently.

  “I’m her brother – I’m just visiting for a few days.”

  “And where are you visiting from sir?”

  “Bradenthorpe… I live in Bradenthorpe, we both…” He broke off as the WPC came back into the room. Suzanne nodded at her colleague.

  “You were saying sir?” Joe continued.

  “Jen and I… we both come from Bradenthorpe… originally. Look, why are you asking us all these –?” Jenny opened her mouth then to interrupt, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived.

  “The whole of the Courier has already been questioned regarding Rachel, is that what this is about? I don’t know any more now than I did then, and Jase certainly doesn’t. He never met her.” Neither Joe nor Suzanne answered. They were now both facing Jason.

  “If you wouldn’t mind sir, we’d appreciate it if you could come along with us to the station. We believe you may be able to help us with our enquiries over a recent incident.” Jason didn’t need to ask what. Damn Charlotte – she must have gone back on her word. The last thing he wanted to do was worry Jen about his recent night’s activities. His sister looked on helplessly as he followed the two officers down the staircase and out into the street. An area car sat waiting. His mop of floppy black hair with its vivid purple flash framed an anxious look on his face as he glanced up at Jenny through the vehicle’s window and she watched him from the lounge.

  The car moved off down the road and finally turned the corner into the high street and out of sight. Slowly Jenny lowered herself onto the dark red sofa, reached over the side to the wine rack and pulled out a bottle of red. A few minutes later she’d worked her way through half the contents as she tried to decipher her thoughts. Why did the police want to question Jason? It just didn’t make any sense. Jenny came to the only conclusion she could under the circumstances, she hadn’t noticed anything, but Jason must have started having periodic episodes again. Bad enough news – but this time it was going to seriously jeopardise things.

  FOURTEEN

  Charlotte sat sideways to her office desk and rocked her chair thoughtfully backwards and forwards, the annoying squeak it had developed barely heard by her today.

  Her mood was pensive, the images in her mind were not those that most normal people would conjure up on an early summer’s evening – not any evening come to that. Her gaze flickered with recent visions of scarlet splashes, incredulous eyes that stared wide open in horror at their owner’s last view, and the knowledge that she, Charlotte, had single-handedly cleared these vile threats from her troubled world.

  Each time it had become easier, which was helpful really as there was so much clearance work to be done. The office chair fell silent. She twisted herself round to face the desk and returned to writing on the pad that lay there. Several women’s names looked up at her in bright red ink, each beautifully scripted with her silver dragon fountain pen, each set out evenly one above the other – in the form of a list. Its newest name sat glistening freshly up at her, all bright and wet and s
hiny. She reached for the blotting paper and stamped it with a smile.

  Gina bit her lip in anxious annoyance, her heart raced. Hurried whispers over her mobile to Molly whilst in the loo had been a big mistake. When she’d entered the cubicle she’d been quite certain the other three were empty, but with the loud bang followed by the swing and thud of the external door it was obvious she’d had company. Someone had overheard her conversation. Now, with her hands beneath the dryer, Gina racked her brains to try and recall exactly what was said that could be construed as information, however small, regarding the latest events.

  It had already been decided by the three of them it couldn’t have been Miles who was responsible despite his recent connection with Rachel. Gina thought hard. Molly had actually talked mostly about Jason again, wondered why he hadn’t been in touch, and she, Gina, had sympathised with her. She remembered mentioning Jason’s name but that wouldn’t be a problem, and she’d said “Hi Molls!” in a low hushed voice when her friend had first answered the call. No particular worry there. No, it was the bit at the end that concerned her. She’d mentioned Rachel by name, and Andrew’s when she’d referred to him discovering Miles’ affair with that new Jenny Flood! That was the bit that worried her.

  The hand drier clicked off. Gina smoothed down her skirt, breathed slowly and deeply then checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked as guilty as hell.

  Back in reception, Gina glanced at the other girls around her, there was nobody missing, nobody who seemed unduly surprised or agitated at having just gained an exorbitantly large slice of gossip. Maybe she’d just imagined it. The bangs she’d heard in the ladies could well have been the old pipework knocking or something. Yes that was it – of course that often happened! It was an old building after all. She began to relax a little then and started to tidy up some paper work and stationery items before she finished for the day.

  By the time she was ready to leave Gina had a smile back on her face and was lost in thought of meeting Andrew later that evening. Just as she began to rummage in her handbag for car keys, Charlotte swept up the hallway then slowed down purposefully in front of the reception desk. The doctor stared directly at her young employee and paused just long enough to unnerve her;

  “Goodnight Gina, I hope you have… an enjoyable evening.” She turned on her heel, continued on to the exit and forcefully pushed open the heavy oak doors to the car park.

  “I’m telling you she heard me”, wailed Gina. “It must have been her! You didn’t see the way she looked at me. God I feel sick, give me a double – no – make it a treble!!” Molly reached for the optic and poured a single measure of whisky then topped it up with a generous helping of Diet Coke. Her friend was drinking far too much lately. She ladled in the ice and grabbed a couple of lemon slices from the bar tubs. Gina was too distracted to notice the short measure.

  “Here, get this down you, then we’ll both head over to Andrew’s, I’m off tonight. It’s a good job you had next week booked out too, you look wrecked.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” She sighed with relief. “Thank God for that! I’d forgotten it in my panic. Molly, what on earth will she do? We were talking about her husband. You know what she’s like, she’s bloody neurotic when it comes to Miles and we discussed Andrew’s discovery of him with that Jenny! Jeez I’m really in the shit.” All sighs of relief were forgotten.

  “Calm down Gina. All we can do is wait and see what develops. If she doesn’t ring you over this next week my guess is you’ll be fine. She must know what he’s like, and I doubt she’ll want anyone else to hear about her husband being over the side.” Gina wasn’t listening – she was staring down into her glass. Suddenly her free hand flew to her mouth in shock the other still nursed the whisky like it was a precious gem.

  “You don’t think she knew about… Rachel do you?” Molly fell silent then. What if Charlotte had known about Rachel? What would that mean? The young barmaid picked up another glass, stuck it under the brandy optic, pushed twice, hesitated – then pushed again. She omitted the mixer. It flamed all the way down to her stomach as her shoulders shuddered. Molly usually stuck to red wine but this little germ of an idea required something with a bit more bite.

  “That’s one hell of a suggestion Gee – I mean, what are you actually saying? That our village doctor bumped off the local bike?” She winced then. “Don’t tell Andrew I said that, he was so protective of Rach.”

  “It wasn’t long ago we wondered about Miles, and he’s a local doctor,” Gina pointed out. “And there was Shipman…?”

  “That’s true. Still, I can’t believe… I mean Charlotte Peterson? She’s your Gran’s GP too remember, found that great nursing home for her, even vetted it personally. No Gina, Charlotte’s a jealous cat but she’s no murderer. She wouldn’t have the stomach for it. This is just our imaginations getting out of control – big time.”

  “I s’pose…” conceded Gina.

  “The police haven’t been round to the surgery have they?” asked Molly.

  “No, nothing like that, Rachel wasn’t registered with us. I did get back late from lunch a couple of days running this week. Maybe it was just a warning shot without actually saying anything.”

  “There you go!” said Molly and raised her glass hand in triumph. “That’s more like it, and if the ‘Old Bill’ haven’t even had a chat, she’s hardly likely to be a suspect.”

  “They haven’t come up with anything though have they, not according to the media, there’s been nothing in the paper or on the TV.”

  “Doesn’t mean our local surgery’s at the heart of the conspiracy though does it? No, she was just being offish with you for taking a couple of extended lunches. Forget about it. Let’s get over to Andrew’s and see what he’s got – if anything.”

  The message was clear. Andrew walked around the other side of his car to discover it bore something similar. Basically he was being warned off. The leisure centre car park was not yet that full, but the early evenings were still light. Whoever did this had taken a big risk. The words ‘DEATH ISN’T NICE!’ and ‘BACK OFF GALE!’ glared angrily back at him in large white letters – not exactly original thought Andrew.

  He’d left Miles to continue playing squash with his friend Bill who’d turned up about twenty minutes late. Had Bill seen this on his way in? For some reason he didn’t want to go back inside to ask. Miles maybe innocent but he was still unsure of him. Puzzled, Andrew unlocked the door and threw his kit bag on the passenger seat. For a moment he just sat there thinking whilst he scoured the car park to see if anyone was hanging about or acting suspiciously. ‘Who could possibly know I was doing a bit of detective work? Only that Inspector Longbridge, he suspects me of just about anything at the moment, but a copper wouldn’t do this. So who then?’ He actually shivered and ran a finger round the steering wheel. He didn’t want to face the obvious fact that it could only have been one person, and he or she now knew he was on to them. Time for a meeting with the girls.

  The three sat in Andrew’s living room huddled around fish and chips and large mugs of tea; they looked for all the world like Macbeth’s three witches. Missy cat circled round and round, head in the air and stalked the wafting scent of cod and rock salmon that emanated from the coffee table. Molly was the first to give in, as of course Missy knew she would!

  “Your car’s just the first warning Andy,” said Gina, and anxious as always laid an arm around his shoulder and made him look at her. “Next time they could cut the brakes!”

  “There won’t be a next time, not now I know they’re watching me, I’ll just have to be a bit more aware that’s all.” He gave her a hug and kissed her forehead.

  “Aren’t you even going to tell the police? You must report it Andy, you can’t drive round in it like that,” she replied, eyes brimming. Molly leaned forwards and pushed a tissue box along the table. Gina motioned a thank you and took one. Andrew kissed her
again and squeezed her elbow.

  “It’s an old banger I’ve held on to it for sentiments sake, I’ve already decided to take the plunge and buy a new one from Ropers. Time I left ‘old Rosie’ well and truly in my teens where she belongs.” Molly sat thoughtfully as she ate her supper and fed Missy far more than the odd titbit. It wasn’t long before the cat had eaten almost as much her.

  “So what have we got?” she called over her shoulder after she wrapped up the last few bits of her takeaway in the paper and walked through to the kitchen to put them in the bin. Missy, who’d run straight after her, was nosing around the swing top lid until Molly scooped her up and returned with her to the lounge. “You’ve had quite enough young lady,” she scolded affectionately as she ruffled the top of her head and dropped her back down on the sofa. She immediately jumped off and landed neatly on her cat rug where she proceeded to lick rock salmon juice from her paws.

  “Well I admit Gina’s experience at the surgery today was a bit odd,” answered Andrew, “but I agree with you Molly – I can’t think that Charlotte has anything to do with it. Funny though, I still can’t help feeling there’s a link with Miles, yet…” He tailed off in thought as he waved a chip in the air.

  “So basically we have nothing then,” added Gina – head in her hands. “That is, until something else happens that could give us a clue to go on.”

  “Yeah… unfortunately, and that’s likely to be another murder,” said Andrew. Both the girls looked resignedly at each other and then at him. “Looks like we may have to sit tight and wait for Molly to have another premonition. I just hope to God she gets it well in time so we can pre-empt the killer, or at least warn the police.” All eyes then turned to Molly who flopped back against the cushions in exasperated reluctance of the inevitable.

  It was then that the landline rang. Andrew reached over the arm of his chair to the side table and casually picked it up. The look on his face moments later, however, was far from casual. It was serious enough to alert the others he was listening to something, or someone important.