Five bodies were recovered; they were exactly where Steptoe said they would be.
And later, during the search of Steptoe’s home and environs, they’d found a child’s bloody knickers in the bin Steptoe had left out for the rubbish man. It had traces of Steptoe’s DNA and the blood was a positive match for a missing kid. Thanks to the forensics, Steptoe went down for six counts of murder, despite the dodginess of the confession; and Dougie could claim credit for a good result.
That was Dougie’s first introduction to the face and feel of human evil. He would never forget it, or fail to recognise it.
‘Let’s say it’s been Gogarty all along,’ said Dougie. ‘Gogarty as the Ripper, which means Gogarty as Roslyn D’Onston, using a magic spell to change his appearance when necessary.’
‘Impossible,’ said Andy Homerton.
‘Humans can’t live that long,’ said Catriona.
‘No human could have broken out of that jail,’ Dougie reminded them.
‘No human can conjure up demons, oh shit,’ said Gina.
‘You’re getting there,’ said Dougie.
‘What are we talking about?’ asked Lisa.
‘Not a human; a half-human. A homo superior. A warlock,’ said Dougie calmly.
‘You’re saying –’
‘You can’t be saying -’
‘I’m saying.’
‘Warlocks are long-lived,’ mused Cat, adding it up. ‘Powerful. They have powerful magic, no devil-gating can keep them in.’ She thought about it. ‘Obvious really.’
‘Who are these bloody warlocks?’ said Gina, puzzled.
‘Gina, keep up love, I –’ said Dougie; but then broke off.
‘No, it’s a fair question, Gina.’ Andy laughed. ‘You know, sometimes I ask myself -’ He broke off.
‘Can we stick to the point?’ said Alliea brusquely. ‘We were just about to –’
Alliea broke off.
‘Haven’t any of you got work to do?’ snapped Catriona.
‘Agreed. Enough chit chat, people. New line of investigation,’ said Dougie, abrasively. ‘Find the foster mother. That bastard Naberius may be hiding out with – um - her.’ He frowned, feeling as if he’d just missed something.
‘Yes, I’m with you, Boss. The demon may be sentimentally attached to the Gogarty body, and wants to um, befriend Gogarty’s friends,’ agreed Gina. ‘We don’t know why, but let’s just give it a punt.’
‘Agreed.’
‘Good idea, Gina.’
‘I’m on it.’
‘Maybe this is why Herneith caught fire. The demon Naberius knew she was looking for him, and so it fucked with her,’ Taff suggested. ‘Demons can do that kind of magic right?’
‘Course they fucking can.’
‘Fucking demons!’ said Dougie.
Hyun-Shik walked over from the pool cues to the huddle of cops by their desks. ‘Something odd’s going down here guys,’ he said, in his Korean-inflected South London accent.
‘Get back to your desk, Moon,’ Alliea snapped.
His eyes widened. ‘I don’t actually have a desk.’
‘Narrative summary of the case,’ ordered Dougie, then he went blank.
‘Are you okay, guv?’ said Gina. ‘Because I’ve got work to – ah – ah – ah.’
‘What work? What case are we working on?’ said Andy.
‘Don’t be daft. It’s the ah – ah – ah,’ said Dougie.
‘We were talking about how to find the evil demon who’s been killing all these people,’ said Cat.
The other detectives laughed.
‘Don’t be so stupid, Cat, we –’
‘No, actually we were doing that.’
‘You’re right,’ said Gina, flustered. ‘There are demons. Of course there are. There was a Breach. The gates of Hell - all of that. And then there was a murder. Many murders. That’s the case we’re, ah, working on.’
Catriona read the name on her e-berry. ‘Naberius.’
‘That’s the demon we were talking about! He’s our serial killer!’
‘And Gogarty? Does anyone know a Gogarty?’
‘This is indeed the case we’re currently working on,’ said Dougie decisively. ‘Naberius is the demon who killed Phil Matthews and I’m going to get him if –’
‘What were we saying about Gogarty?’
‘Doesn’t matter. The point is, if Herneith won’t – doesn’t –’
‘What the fuck is wrong with you people?’ said Ronnie Tindale, marvelling.
‘Then we have to – what – where –’ Dougie’s mind was a fog.
‘Warlock,’ said Ronnie Tindale, and Dougie jolted as if struck. ‘We were talking about –’ The truth dawned on him and a cunning look came upon Ronnie. ‘Bloody hell.’
‘What?’
‘It’s like being the only sober person in a pub with a bunch of drunks,’ said Ronnie, tauntingly. ‘None of you idiots can remember what we were talking about. This is Five Squad, you wankers! The crème de la - whatever. The Gogarty case. That’s what we’re working on. Dougie suggested that Gogarty is a warlock, which is a fair hypothesis. And then your brains fell out of your heads, and you were like –’
‘Hey, don’t be cheeky,’ said Gina.
‘Enchanted,’ said Dougie, getting it.
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re saying –’
‘I’m saying,’ Ronnie said, ‘it’s blindingly obvious that Gogarty is a warlock. It’s the simplest inference with the most supporting evidence. Occam’s Razor wins every time. Shapeshifting demons, Gogarty possessed – makes no sense. No demon could get in that cell block under its own steam, not even if it was invited. Either you rewrite all the rules of magic. Or, less stupidly, you posit that Gogarty-Warlock exvoked the demon. Plucked it out of thin bloody air, in other words. Hence Gogarty has warlock powers. Hence he’s a warlock serial killer. No biggie. Why wouldn’t some of those guys be evil? It would be bloody odd if they weren’t.’
‘You’re right,’ said Dougie. ‘Warlocks are as fallible as the rest of humankind.’
‘But no one ever says that,’ marvelled Cat.
‘Or thinks it,’ said Gina.
‘The mind –’
‘It goes off on tangents. Forgets what –’ Catriona looked blank, forgot what she was saying.
‘Enchantment, Catriona. Enchantment. Focus,’ said Gina.
‘I’m immune,’ Ronnie pointed out.
‘Immune from what?’ Dougie said.
Ronnie sighed. ‘Pay attention, you daft twat. You’ve been enchanted.’
‘Don’t you fucking – right, right,’ said Dougie. ‘How come you’re the only one who –’
‘Don’t know, don’t care. Maybe it’s because I lack imagination. Ha! Now focus, you daft cunts. You’re enchanted. All of you.’
Dougie blinked.
‘Right. We are enchanted. But not any more, we’re - Are we recording this?’ asked Dougie.
‘No,’ said Cat, ‘of course not.’
‘Then start recording everything we say. On your e-berry. But keep the records in a locked cupboard. For reference purposes only, in case our memories are wiped. And write down everything that is said about demons on a piece of paper. Look at what you’ve written every sixty seconds. Oh, and everyone in this room is sworn to secrecy.’
‘What are we saying here?’ said Hyun-Shik.
‘We’re saying, warlock spells are blurring our minds, to make it impossible for us to believe that warlocks are evil.’
‘That’s – evil,’ said Hyun-Shik.
‘This is a conspiracy,’ said Dougie, ‘to pervert the course of justice, and the future of humankind. Each of you in this room must vow to fight this conspiracy.’
‘Hey look I’m just a plain clothes PC,’ said Vincent Hare, putting down his e-berry. ‘I didn’t sign up for –’
‘You’re with us or you’re against us,’ said Dougie aggressively.
Vincent blinked. ‘Then – with.’
/> ‘Are we all agreed?’ said Dougie. He scanned their faces. It was one of those defining moments when people you’ve known for years look different.
‘Agreed on what?’ asked Gina.
‘That we will solve this case the same way we always do. Rationally and remorselessly. And if the killer happens to be a Grey-Beard, we take the motherfucker down regardless.’
‘Gogarty has no grey beard.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Is it Gogarty who’s enchanted us?’
‘I seriously doubt that,’ said Dougie. ‘It feels too big for that. I’ve known – there was a woman called Lavinia –’ He shook his head to get the cobwebs out.
‘I’m writing down Lavinia,’ said Cat.
‘Read the case notes,’ Dougie told Andy. ‘Prostitute, Eltham Palace. My first inkling. For years I’ve suspected. But –’ He shook his head again.
‘In 2014,’ Alliea pointed, ‘the warlocks enchanted the entire city. Every single creature from the hell dimension was spell-bound.’
‘I’m with you.’
‘A small step,’ said Alliea, crossing the i’s, ‘to enchanting all of us too. All the humans.’
‘Open up that LOI,’ said Gina.
‘No don’t,’ said Dougie firmly. ‘We’re not investigating the Grey-Beards, it’s only Gogarty we want. We’re a Murder Squad. Let’s just do our jobs. But I have to tell you, this is really pissing me off.’ His voice shook with rage. ‘I’m not going to let some bastard fuck with my head, and my thoughts, and my memories. There will be no fix. There will be no cover up. For the second time, are we all agreed?’
There was an awkward silence.
‘Are we all agreed?’ Dougie insisted.
More awkward silence.
‘AGREED?’
‘Aye.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Sure.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Of course.’ ‘Yeah, guv.’ ‘Sure guv.’ ‘You got it.’ ‘Guv.’ ‘Yeah yeah.’ ‘Guv.’ ‘Agreed.’ ‘Yeah.’
‘Okay we’ve got two thousand three hundred and forty-two possible hellkind-fosterers,’ said Catriona, as the news came through on her e-berry. ‘Female, South London based, or were South London based.’
Her words broke the moment and created a new energy.
‘Thomas Peters once applied to be a foster father,’ said Alice Tunstall.
‘The same Thomas Peters?’
‘The same,’ said Vincent Hare. ‘I just read his application form.’
Thomas Peters was one of the Gogarty aliases.
‘Thomas Peters has form, why didn’t he apply as Andrew Bishop?’
‘Shoplifting, no big deal. But Peters failed the interview. The social worker Jean Miller recorded that he lacked empathetic people skills.’
‘Fuck me, that social worker is good at her job,’ marvelled Cat.
‘Good, that’s all good,’ said Dougie. ‘Does this help us find Gogarty?’
‘Not in the least,’ said Alice. ‘But it’s a fact.’
Dougie grinned. ‘Someone else have a try?’
‘Gogarty is very distinctive,’ Hyun-Shik Moon pointed out. ‘In appearance I mean. And yet we haven’t spotted him on CCTV. So if we assume he’s alive, as we now do, maybe he’s being protected by someone. Someone who buys his food, cooks for him, that’s why he’s invisible to us. So he and his demon have been given sanctuary. In a place where the hell hounds can’t trace a demonic presence. Hence, in a foster home with a bunch of young demons.’
‘That was my hypothesis,’ admitted Dougie.
‘Don’t buy that. He could use a spell, to disguise his appearance. He’s a warlock, remember?’ That was Andy Homerton.
‘I remember,’ said Dougie, wryly. ‘Glamour. Good thought. That kills my hypothesis. But even so, we caught him on CCTV, outside the Tube station. Why didn’t he use glamour then?’
‘Maybe glamour doesn’t work on CCTV?’ Alice, trying to redeem herself.
‘Then how come the warlocks – you know – always have grey beards?’ That was Gina.
‘Maybe they don’t, when they’re on camera,’ Dougie said. ‘Maybe they use jammers too. Maybe they have control of the entire CCTV system and create black spots wherever they walk. Maybe there’s a lot we don’t know about our own world. Find me the foster mother, let’s take it from there.’
‘We’re on it, Boss. We should have something by the morning,’ Cat predicted.
‘Glad to hear it. Now write down the key points of what we’ve been saying. Just in case we have another mass senior moment.’
After some hunting, Catriona found a pen and paper and wrote it all down.
‘Gogarty is chief suspect, Naberius is just his muscle, his spell-bound henchman,’ said Dougie.
She wrote down: Gogarty is chief suspect, Naberius = henchman.
‘Gogarty may be a warlock, let’s call that LOI-5.’
Gogarty may be warlock, LOI-5.
‘Some form of enchantment makes it difficult for us to believe that warlocks are capable of being serial killers. It may be a specific spell directed at Five Squad by Gogarty, or it may be a general enchantment laid down by the Warlock Council, to keep the peace in London. Like putting bromide in our tea.’
Mind fuck spellbinding in operation, beware. Gogarty mindfuck = LOI-5-A, Warlock Council mindfuck = LOI-5-B.
‘Don’t lose that bit of paper.’
Don’t lose that bit
‘Sorry,’ said Catriona, realising what she was doing.
She tucked the paper in her bra; a warm soft home for a document that could get them all killed.
‘Okay then. Let’s say we do catch him. We catch the bastard, bang to rights. Then what?’ asked Gina.
‘Yeah yeah,’ said Dougie, seeing where she was going with this.
It was just gone 11pm. They were in Dougie’s house. After the shift had ended the two of them had driven back in the same car, desperate to remain together. He’d cooked her dinner. A home-made chicken and mushroom pie, taken from the freezer; he had his own special recipe for the white sauce. He served it with mash. They ate in silence – even Daniel and Jessica were in a muted mood - then he put the kids to bed.
Now they were chilling. She was slouched comfortably, both legs perched on the sofa. He was beside her, one foot up on the table. Both knackered but too tired to go to bed. A domestic tableau.
It had been an extraordinary day. The mystic flames at St Paul’s had been extinguished. The remains of Herneith had been carried out, and tests performed by a demonologist indicated she was still alive and would remain so.
Tom Derry was in King’s College Hospital, recovering from the injuries he’d sustained when he’d jumped off the lantern of St Paul’s and landed in Ludgate Circus. Preliminary reports that Tom had flown most of the way before crashing to the ground had been confirmed. This was yet another mystery to add to the pile that Dougie was accumulating. It was becoming evident to him that the world in which he lived was even stranger than he had supposed.
Herneith wasn’t yet fit to be interviewed. Nor was Tom, who had fallen twenty feet when his flying-power had abruptly given out, and whose injuries were potentially life-threatening.
The Demon City police had taken charge of the St Paul’s fire investigation. And until a lead came through about the location of Gogarty, there was nothing for Dougie to do. So he’d gone home and Gina had come with him. He drank no wine with his meal, just water, in case there was a sudden call-out. Though Gina risked a small glass of white. The mood now was mellow, verging on melancholic.
‘No prison will hold him,’ Gina continued.
‘I know.’
‘No jury will convict him. He has the power of enchantment.’
‘Is he the only one?’
‘The only warlock serial killer?’
‘Yes.’
‘Don’t know.’
‘Conspiracy of warlocks? All of them out there serial killing, like Hoorah Henries on the Glorious Twelfth, killing people as if they were game bi
rds?’
‘No evidence to support that,’ Dougie said.
‘I’m not saying there is, I’m just outlining the scenario.’
‘It seems a bit rich to me.’
‘One bad apple, then,’ conceded Gina.
‘Yeah, well, that’s a tarnished phrase.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I know what you mean. Baby, bathwater, squelch, let’s not go there. We owe our fucking lives to the warlocks, but we don’t have to be sentimental about it. Even the angels had their share of power-grabbing psychos.’
‘You’ve been reading Paradise Lost again.’
‘The point is sound,’ said Dougie. ‘However many good warlocks there are, some are bound to turn bad.’
‘Like black magicians.’
‘They’re all black magicians. That’s the nature of warlock power. They all of them tap into the power of the hell dimension.’
Gina mulled that. She sipped her wine, savouring each small taste. Enjoying it more than when she downed a pint in two or three gulps.
‘A few bad apples, that’s all,’ said Dougie. ‘So let’s not burn the orchard eh? But there will be others. Other serial killing black magicians. There must be, logic demands it. So -’ Dougie shrugged. ‘Let’s deal with that when we have to.’
‘So what do we do now?’ Gina asked.
‘We find someone,’ Dougie said: ‘who will help us kill Gogarty.’
‘Who?’
Dougie had given this a considerable amount of thought.
For it was, in fact, nearly five years since he had first formulated his warlock hypothesis, in the period after he’d met Lavinia in the brothel. He’d nursed the notion darkly, with all the caution of a man hiding an affair from his wife. Sometimes he’d doubted his own reasoning. Often he would forget all about his fears and the reasons for them; till a sudden spark of memory struck him and he remembered his suspicions all over again.
‘Someone who knows how to kill a warlock,’ Dougie said. ‘In other words, another warlock. We need help here, Gina. We really do.’
He was flushed with excitement, and also fear. Gina felt her heart pounding.
‘So, What? Are you going to talk to Roy?’
‘Fuck no. I’ll go over his head. Brannigan. Or someone in the Warlock Council.’
Hell on Earth Page 52