‘So you think Noah is responsible for all these crimes and he’s escalated over the years?’ Stacey asked.
‘I think it’s possible,’ Penn answered.
‘But why always a pair?’ Alison asked. ‘Why does he do everything twice?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘And why are there only scratches noted on the first incident of each pair?’ Stacey asked.
‘I have no idea.’
‘Penn, right now you’re posing more questions than you’re answering.’
‘I know,’ he said, taking a seat and staring up at the board.
‘You know, Penn, there’s something not right about that list,’ Alison said, breaking a Kit Kat in half. ‘Look at the stages of escalation. There’s a proportional elevation from one crime to the next, except for assault to murder. The leap is too big.’
‘So what are you telling me?’ Penn asked, frowning.
‘I’m telling you that you’re missing some incidents. There has to be something in between.’
Eighty-One
‘Nothing yet,’ Kim said, checking her phone as Bryant pulled onto Russells Hall Hospital car park.
‘Guv, it’s been twenty minutes. Give her a bloody chance. She’s gotta write the article first, and it’s not like you’ve given her a lot to work with.’
‘Doesn’t normally stop her from making something out of nothing,’ Kim shot back.
‘I swear, sometimes…’
He left the thought hanging as they got out the car.
‘You know, Frost does puzzle me,’ he said as they headed across the road. ‘I can never work out if she’s a decent human being or a ruthless journalist with no morals.’
‘Assume the latter and hope for the former,’ Kim said as they headed towards the morgue. But she agreed with Bryant and often felt the same confusion.
Over the years, Frost had been a consistent pain in the backside: needling, goading, prying and pushing for information. And yet, at times she’d also done the right thing and held back from publishing information she’d unearthed or been given access to. Not least when she’d been presented with the entire social services file of Kim’s childhood, gifted to her by someone who hated Kim enough to murder people in recreations of the most traumatic events in her life. It was that same case that had almost cost Alison her life.
Kim shook away the memories. Frost had handed her back the file, unread. No matter what the woman did, Kim would always remember that.
‘Hey, Keats, did you miss me?’ Kim asked, entering the morgue. The hours since they’d seen each other were barely into double figures.
‘Only if my aim was off,’ he said without turning. ‘And where’s Penn?’
‘Bloody hell, Keats, anyone would think you didn’t like me after all the years we’ve accrued of mutual understanding and respect, whereby we value each other’s opinion and expertise.’
He turned to Bryant. ‘Is she drunk?’
‘Keats, I am cut to the quick,’ she said, clutching her chest. There were few reasons to look forward to coming to the morgue, but baiting Keats was definitely one of them.
‘Inspector, I have no idea what a “quick” is nor where it is found on the human body, but I very much doubt that you possess one.’
Ah, a point she wasn’t sure she could argue with.
‘I see you started without us,’ she said, observing the state of the body on the table. The Y incision had been closed neatly.
‘The dates and times published by the management of this establishment are offered in an advisory capacity only and are subject to change whenever I say so.’
Kim opened her mouth to retort something along the lines of his estimated times of death having that same level of fluidity but noticed the pinched expression on his face just in time.
‘Something else come in, Keats?’
‘Two children in a house fire.’
The room fell silent. Bad enough imagining two young souls lost in such a horrific manner, but to have to pick through their remains for answers took a stronger stomach than she had.
The retort died in her mouth.
‘Okay, Keats, we’ll take the edited version and let you get on.’
‘Thank you. As usual, all weights and measurements will be on my official report which will be with you later today. The victim appeared to be in reasonable health and, although we’re pretty sure our killer doesn’t share a meal with his victims prior to death, so it’s unlikely to help, her last meal was scrambled eggs and bacon.’
Normally, Bryant would have asked what kind and Keats would have shot back a response, but now was not the time. The vision of two dead children awaiting his attention was still firmly in the mind of all of them.
‘Not really that helpful, Keats, to be—’
‘Inspector, cases have been solved through the examination of stomach contents.’ He shook his head as he launched into full lecture mode. She had five minutes spare to indulge him.
‘Two men held up a coffee shop in Eugene, Oregon. The barista shot the first man, but the second got away. CCTV wasn’t working, so the second masked gunman couldn’t be identified. The post-mortem of the first gunman revealed food that had barely been digested, and investigators could make out a certain type of fry served by a local fast-food restaurant. CCTV checks showed both men eating a meal at that restaurant and also trying the masks on prior to the event. Gotcha.’
‘Gotcha?’ Kim asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘Just using a vernacular you might understand.’
‘Thanks for that, Keats, now—’
‘No signs of a struggle with this one,’ he noted, returning to the job at hand.
‘We think this victim knew the killer,’ Bryant said.
‘But not the other two?’ he queried.
Kim shook her head.
‘Okay, well, as I’m pressed for time I have only one thing of interest to reveal and there’ll be no dramatics.’
That was a first for the pathologist.
‘Photos or actual?’
‘Both,’ he said, standing to the left of the trolley.
Kim followed suit and moved towards the body.
He took the right arm and turned it so the wrist was facing up.
‘Scratches,’ Kim noted.
‘There was no watch or jewellery on this wrist, so could not have come from that and definitely inflicted after death.’
‘Just like Katrina,’ Bryant noted. ‘But why on the wrist?’
‘Easy place to get to,’ Kim answered. ‘It’s October, it’s cold, and all our victims have been heavily clothed. It’s almost like he doesn’t want to violate the body, but that’s not what’s puzzling me.’
‘I’ve already checked and there’s nothing,’ Keats said, reading her thoughts.
What the hell were the scratches and why were they only present on two of the three victims?
Eighty-Two
Penn ended the call from the boss and wrote the word ‘scratches’ against the name of Nicola Southall.
‘Okay, why every other one?’ Stacey asked, staring at the board, hoping for some kind of inspiration.
No one answered, and she could feel a sense of frustration growing in the room.
‘Anybody else feel like we have all the puzzle pieces on the table but just can’t find the corners to get it started?’
Both Alison and Penn nodded at her miserably.
‘We’ve got post-mortem reports, incident reports, letters from the killer. We’ve got dates of incidents we think are connected and we’ve got…’ her words trailed away as those last words kicked at something in her brain.
‘Hang on one sec,’ she said, rifling for one single piece of paper.
She looked at the phone records of the phone that had called Nicola Southall the morning before.
‘Penn, have you got the exact dates for all those incidents?’ she asked. Just the month of the incidents he’d listed was not detailed enough for what she wanted to
check.
‘Somewhere,’ he said. ‘Why, is it important?’
‘Might be,’ she said, looking at the list on the board and the paper in her hands.
‘Okay, what do you?…’
‘Call out the date and stand by the board with your marker pen.’
‘You know it’s a good job I don’t mind being bossed around,’ he said, pushing a roll of curls out of his eyes.
‘Okay, first burglary, twenty-second of May.’
‘Put a tick by that one,’ Stacey said.
‘Second burglary, twenty-third of May.’
‘Put a cross by that one,’ Stacey said as he added the symbols beside the crime.
‘First Peeping Tom, eleventh of August.’
‘Tick.’
‘Second Peeping Tom, twelfth of August.’
‘Cross.’
‘First assault, fifth of January.’
‘Tick.’
‘Second assault, sixth of January.’
‘Cross.’
‘First homeless murder, ninth of February.’
‘Tick.’
‘Second homeless murder, tenth of February.’
‘Cross.’
‘Our first murder, nineteenth of October.’
‘Tick.’
‘Our second murder, twentieth of October.’
‘Cross.’
‘Our third murder, yesterday.’
‘Tick.’
Penn stood back.
‘The second incident is always one day later than the first,’ Alison noted, which was true but not what she’d been trying to establish.
She held up the piece of paper.
‘The phone that contacted Nicola yesterday morning sent a text message to the unknown number on the day of every first incident in the paired crimes.’ She paused for a minute, allowing that to sink in. ‘But no text back, except there’s one date missing,’ Stacey said, following the cross-referenced tick marks. ‘A text was sent from the burner phone on the third of May 2018, but we don’t have an incident for that.’
‘That date falls between the assault and the first murders,’ Alison said, staring at the board. ‘I said that was too much of a leap. We’re missing another pair of incidents.’
Stacey looked again at the date on her list without a check mark.
Her heart began to race.
It was a date she already knew.
Eighty-Three
‘It’s up,’ Kim said once she’d finished the update call to Penn.
‘Yeah, I see it,’ Bryant said, scrolling through the article.
‘What the fuck?’ Kim asked as she began reading. They both read Frost’s online article in silence. Kim could feel her rage growing with every sentence.
‘Even the bloody headline,’ she spat. ‘“Are the police going soft?” I swear to God, I should never have trusted that woman. She’s…’
‘Very clever,’ Bryant finished.
Those were not the words she’d been about to use.
He continued, pointing to his phone. ‘She phrases it as a question and uses every word you asked her to as one side of the argument and poses cases of police brutality as the opposing side.’
‘Yeah, but this is a judgement piece.’
Bryant shook his head. ‘It really isn’t, guv. It’s a reporter trying to find an angle to write a piece you’ve requested, using the quotes you instructed. You didn’t give her any new facts around the case to weave the quotes around. In my humble opinion, for one hour’s notice she’s done an amazing job.’
‘Bloody hell, Bryant, start a fan club.’
‘And are we really bothered that much about the content of the article? Isn’t it the comments we’re after?’
‘Yeah and there are none of those yet,’ she snapped.
‘Be patient,’ he said, starting the car.
Yes, that was Bryant. Always asking the impossible of her. And she had demonstrated patience. It was twenty-four hours since she’d given Reginald the two letters she’d received from Noah, yet she hadn’t banged on his door at 6 a.m. this morning. Surely, for her, that was progress.
‘You know, Bryant, sometimes your sensible, level-headed approach is…’
‘Refreshing, reassuring and a solid, steadying influence on you.’
‘Well, I was going to say annoying but if—’
Kim stopped speaking as her phone signalled an alert.
She scrolled to the comments on Frost’s article.
‘It’s from him,’ she said, seeing the name ‘Noah’ at the top of the post.
‘Read it out,’ Bryant said.
‘“I for one find it refreshing to see that the police force is willing to empathise with people who are committing crimes and who may have varying reasons for the acts they are carrying out. Yes, there are criminals committing heinous acts through deviance or to seek some form of gratification, and then there are others that commit despicable acts through no fault of their own; they are compelled – one might even say forced. Some may wish to be stopped, to be understood; but even though there are two types of killer, there does remain one single commonality. They will carry on until they are stopped.”’
‘Jesus, guv, that’s an awful lot of words in response to the article,’ Bryant said.
Kim read it again as other comments began to appear.
‘Yes, Bryant, it’s an awful lot of words to give us one simple message.’
‘Which is?’
‘That he fully intends to kill again.’
Eighty-Four
‘The sexual assault of Gemma Hornley happened on that date,’ Stacey clarified as Penn began to make changes to the wipe board, to accommodate the two new crimes.
‘Now that makes more sense,’ Alison said, nodding her head. ‘The escalation from assault to sexual assault to murder is more logical than the leap we had before.’
‘Except, we currently have a man called Sean Fellows serving a seven-year sentence for the rape of Gemma Hornley, and two days ago I was trying to get him to confess to the rape of Lesley Skipton.’
‘If we’re right, he’s gonna be your new best friend soon,’ Alison noted.
Stacey ached to pick up the phone and call Brierley Hill station or the CPS or anyone. But she couldn’t. The thought of Sean Fellows spending even a moment longer in prison than necessary was abhorrent to her, but they had to be absolutely sure before they put any wheels in motion.
Stacey hit herself on the forehead.
‘Bloody scratches. Gemma was the first rape victim, and after he’d finished he used some kind of knife to scratch her. Damn it, I should have…’
‘You got any photos?’ Penn asked, printing something off behind her.
She reached for the file that had been pushed to one side.
‘Here,’ she said, pushing the open file across the desk at the page he was after.
He took the file to the copier and then handed it back.
‘You know something,’ Stacey said as a sudden thought occurred to her, ‘if we’re right, I’ve actually spoken to two of his victims.’
Both Penn and Alison looked her way as she continued, ‘And there was a great disparity in their accounts. Gemma’s attack was vicious, brutal and included a knife. Lesley somehow got a sense that when he attacked her he didn’t really want to do it, that there was emotion, tenderness.’
‘You’re kidding?’ Alison asked, and even Penn was frowning hard.
‘Tenderness and rape do not go in the same sentence.’
‘Exactly, but where does that leave us now?’
‘More confused than ever,’ Alison said, turning back to her notes.
Eighty-Five
Having learned from their first visit to the graphologist’s house the previous day, Kim accepted Reg’s wife’s offer of coffee, aware that she was going to get it anyway.
‘Okay, let’s get started,’ Reg said, taking a notepad from beside the well-watered plant.
‘So we’re going to start with t
he letter T, which shows more personality traits than any other letter of the alphabet.
‘Our subject is ambitious and self-confident. The T bars are high but not right at the top. That would be overly ambitious with distant goals. The heaviness of the subject’s T bars in relation to the rest of the writing indicates lower than average levels of willpower.’
‘Our subject—’
‘He,’ Kim interrupted.
‘I cannot state that,’ Reg said, peering over the top of his glasses.
‘You can’t tell the gender?’ Bryant asked.
He shook his head. ‘As all people possess both masculine and feminine components, it would be at best a guess. Not unlike a painting in a gallery or a novel with an androgynously named author. You may guess at the gender, but you couldn’t be sure. Similarly, we are unable to detect the age of the subject. Some people are mature for their age and others are immature.’
‘Okay, please continue but refer to the subject as male.’
‘As a reference, I will, but not as a judgement. The sub… sorry… he does not exhibit any traits of domination, as the T bars don’t slant down. There is enthusiasm in the long sweeping T bars, but it does not demonstrate procrastination. His T’s do show a measure of initiative, but the upsweep of the T bar shows self-castigation. Blame for things not his fault.’
‘Really?’ Kim said, sitting forward.
‘He doesn’t show a tendency to temper, as the T bar is not to the right of the stem. When the T and D stems are very high, there is vanity and ego has taken over; but see these loops on the T and D stems, they indicate he is sensitive to criticism.’
Deadly Cry: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with suspense (Detective Kim Stone Crime Thiller Book 13) Page 22