‘OK, Let’s check the rest of the joint,’ Jim suggested.
The property was empty, but with signs of recent occupation. On the top floor were two rooms containing personal effects. One room had a chest of boy’s toys dating from years ago, and more recent clothes. The other room was a nest of femininity, with stuffed toys, cushions, a doll in Edwardian clothing, and a large bookcase. Redwall carefully tipped a book off a shelf, almost knowing what he was going to find. It was the Manual of Nursing, and inside was written the name: Sarah.
The superficial exploration determined the place was vacant, and soon cars began to arrive, initiating an organised flurry of activity that proved to be a surprisingly dirty job. Save for the two rooms at the top, everywhere was layered with dust that had been there for decades.
A couple of wardrobes contained clothes that had hung unused for years, clothes from a past era, and the beds, left made up over all this time, contained the debris of mice and rats. Forensics said it was probable that any human debris had long been rendered useless.
‘It’s the Marie Celeste,’ Jim said, as they carefully pushed aside clothes that threatened to disintegrate, just to be sure there was nothing else hiding behind them. ‘Why is this stuff still here? It’s as if someone just walked away one day…’
‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Redwall agreed
‘But even if Sarah and that mysterious brother of hers killed Freman and the hooker, it still doesn’t explain any of this.’
‘You’re right. It doesn’t make sense.’
‘I wouldn’t have pegged Sarah for a killer.’
‘Who would? But where is she? And that brother of hers – if he is her brother. They can’t be the professor’s kids, anyway. Their ages are all wrong, but who are they?’ Redwall stared at an oil painting. ‘Good God, this is real. Who owns this stuff? Why wouldn’t they have sold it?’
‘They had something to hide? Stuff going to auction these days needs provenance.’
‘You can sell anything on the internet.’
Redwall pulled another picture away from the wall, and peered behind it. ‘It’s like they were just camping out here. Except that some of the stuff in the bedrooms looks last generation, or even older.’
‘It’s weird, alright.’
The detective in charge of the house-search came rushing in with scarcely contained excitement.
‘We’ve found a lab!’ he said, indicating. ‘It’s ancient!’ He led them down to the cellar, and showed them the trick to a concealed door, just beyond the cells. There was a click and a section of wall lurched on wheeled tracks, making a screeching that grated. The interior looked like a film set for a horror movie. An antiquated laboratory, with its ranks of glass bottles and acres of scrubbed wooden work-tops, covered in a layer of dust.
‘This place doesn’t look as though it’s been entered for years.’ Jim whispered in amazement, sweeping his arm through cobwebs. ‘What the hell was he doing down here?’
‘I hate to think. That bench looks horribly like a cadaver dissection table. The cells, and now this? He wasn’t doing anyone any good.’
‘Sir?’
The young officer’s tone was high with alarm.
At the far end was another cell containing an old, metal hospital bed. The man lying on it was not so much decomposed as mummified. He’d been dead so long that the skin was like brown leather, the eyelids sunken, and the teeth exposed in the parody of a smile. By the rumpled suit, brogues, and white hair they assumed that it was the owner of the property.
‘Jesus wept,’ Redwall uttered. ‘Do you think he locked himself in here by accident?’
‘No, sir. The door was bolted from the outside.’
‘How did he die?’
‘We won’t know until he’s autopsied, but my guess would be poison or starvation.’
‘OK. Don’t go in. Let forensics decide when he can be moved.’ Redwall’s eyes spun around the lab. ‘Any more surprises, I wonder?’
‘Not as far as we’ve found so far. But this room – and the rooms outside – were purpose-built for detaining people.’
‘And what happened to those people when the professor had finished with them? It looks as if we’re going to have to search the grounds. Have you found any records?’
‘No paperwork at all. From the empty cabinets over there,’ he pointed, ‘My guess is that whoever killed the professor removed the records, but it’s going to be a while before we get the whole picture. I’m going to ask the Chief to import some more forensics guys from over in Sussex, if that’s OK.’
‘Sure.’ Redwall gave the rest of the lab a cursory glance. ‘And we need to get our solicitors onto the ownership issue. Keep me informed.’
As they walked out, Jim said, ‘This is going to take weeks, you realise, or even months? They’ve brought in sophisticated equipment now to check the house and garden for human remains, but hell. If they find anything, the whole house will be taken apart brick by brick.’
‘I know. But we’ve got two separate issues here. Whatever went on in that lab was ancient history, out of our sphere. We don’t even know if the recent occupiers of the premises knew about it. What we have to concentrate on is finding who the hell Sarah and this mysterious, dangerous Joel is. I suspect when we know that, we’ll have our strangler. We also need to find how the hell Robin Vanger fits into the equation.’
Chapter 44
The days Robin spent at the cottage with Sarah spread into a week, and then another. Distanced from the traumas of the past year, the interlude mellowed into a break with the hallmarks of a convalescence. They’d beaten the dust from a small sofa, wiped down the tiny, functional kitchen, and cleaned and talked themselves silly, but still a plan hadn’t materialised. Sarah wanted to go back and have a one-to-one with Joel, in a public place, somewhere he wouldn’t be able to take advantage of her, but Robin was dead against the idea.
Presently they were lounging before a log fire, going over it all again. Robin was absolutely against any contact with him. ‘Let him stew. When we do decide to talk to him, we can go through a mediator, and it will be on our terms, so he realises he can’t bully you just because he’s bigger and stronger.’
‘But he won’t understand…’
‘I think he’ll understand just fine. No matter how intellectually challenged he is, he knows right from wrong. He shouldn’t have kidnapped you.’
‘It wasn’t exactly kidnapping; it was our house.’
‘Of course, it was; locking you in somewhere against your will is absolutely what kidnapping is. He went beyond anything that’s acceptable. You’ve got over it now, but at the time you were angry and scared, and if Freman hadn’t let you out, you might have been there a damned site longer, even with Redwall on your case.’
‘Why was he on my case? I still find that bit strange.’
‘They thought you might have ended up as a victim of the strangler.’
‘Just because I’m blonde?’
‘Very much because you’re blonde. All the victims had similarities: size, shape, hair, etc. He’s definitely got a type. And that type is you. The only one that was out of the pattern was Helen Speakman.’
‘Maybe that wasn’t the same guy.’
‘No, maybe not. But something is niggling me about her. I was upset to hear she’d been murdered, after everything else, but there’s something I’m not seeing. There’s a weird kind of connect between me and you and Helen, but damned if I can work out what it is.’
‘Coincidence.’
‘Maybe.’
They watched the flames for a while, enjoying the bubble of contentment that was surely going to burst sometime soon.
‘We need to go to town tomorrow, get more supplies,’ Robin said.
‘And a phone, or a laptop or something. We’re kind of out of the loop, here. I haven’t a clue what’s going on in the world.’
‘Perhaps that’s a good thing. I should have let Redwall know we’re both OK,
but I guess he’s moved on to other things by now, even though at the time I felt like a criminal on the run.’
Chapter 45
The forensic report informed Redwall that the prints all over one upper room at Wood Hall positively matched those in Sarah’s room at the nurse’s flats. The ones in the other room were an unknown male, presumably her mysteriously elusive or non-existent brother, Joel. The dead girl turned out to be a known London prostitute, but, significantly, one bank note tucked into her bra had Robin’s prints on them. Surprised, he phoned straight through to the lab.
‘Are you sure it’s Vanger’s?’
‘Absolutely. No doubts at all. Same as last time; just the one with his prints on.’
‘Stranger and stranger,’ Redwall said to Jim. ‘Yet another time he seems to have murdered someone and left his ID on the victim.’
‘Maybe it really is him?’
‘It’s fairly damning, but actually suggests quite the opposite. That answerphone message was a warning to Freman not to go after Joel, a warning that Freman either didn’t hear, or didn’t heed. And if someone wanted to frame Robin, and had stolen some notes from his house before blowing it up, he might be spreading them out a bit. She had over a hundred quid on her, but only one tenner with Robin’s prints. What hooker would allow herself to be driven out to an isolated house for a tenner?’
‘You think Sarah is in cahoots with Robin?’
‘I think they’re together – if we find one, we find the other. But it doesn’t make Robin a criminal. Someone strangled that girl, and broke Freman’s fingers over several days before killing him. Apparently, he’d only been dead for a day when we got there. A day earlier, and we might have saved him. Hell and damnation!’
Jim was still reading the report. ‘The tom was killed…’
‘She had a name,’ Redwall rebuked gently.
‘The girl, Gloria, was killed several days before Freman, and left in the room with him. Why would anyone do that?’
‘A threat, a promise, a punishment. Who knows?’
‘Do you think someone was trying to get information out of him?’
‘It was more likely to be a reprisal, as Freman was going to expose him. He wouldn’t have expected us to find the place. If Freman hadn’t had that second phone, we wouldn’t have, and he might have just disappeared. From the marks on his neck, it must have been a bloke, or a woman built like a wrestler, which lets Sarah out. A few months back I would have said Vanger wasn’t strong enough, but he’s recovering faster than I would have expected. Last time I saw him I noticed the scars on his face had almost faded, which surprised me, and he wasn’t limping at all. He must have a serious ability to heal.’
‘Has the dead guy been identified as the professor?’
‘Not absolutely. He was born at the turn of the last century, and there are no comparison prints. But an educated guess because of his size, his hair, and a grainy photo from an old academic paper, suggests, with a high probability, it’s him.’
In the meantime, officers had been making door-to-door enquiries in the village, asking about the young man who had been living at Wood Hall.
Jim summed up what he’d learned.
‘The professor hadn’t been seen for years. He’d be knocking over ninety, now, if he’s still alive. Locals believed he went abroad many years ago, for his health. There have been a series of caretakers over the years, but they don’t have much to do with people in the village. The previous one was a young woman, they didn’t know her name, and the one there now is a young man called Joel. Apparently, the job is simply to be there, make sure the place remains intact, and isn’t vandalised or used as a squat. No locals have ever been commissioned to do renovating works or maintenance.’
‘Can anyone describe Joel?’
‘The girl in the newsagents seems pretty clued up. She’s happy to do a facial composite. She says she’s only seen him a couple of times. He must shop somewhere else. She says he’s really hot, but he didn’t seem interested in her.’
‘Her lucky day, I’d say.’
‘She’s coming in this afternoon.’
‘I’d like a brief word with her before they start.’
Further investigation turned up the fact that the professor had been accused of performing illegal abortions, of using foetuses for medical experiments back in the fifties. Though neither accusation had been proved in court, his academic career had come to an abrupt halt, and he had retired to his home never to be seen in society again. There was no record of his death.
Jim added, ‘Something else popped up while we were trawling for information. Apparently, back in the sixties, a couple of pregnant girls disappeared from Essex. Their mothers suspected they’d been to see our professor about abortions. The authorities found no evidence to support the accusations, and no trace was ever found of the girls. They searched his property, but he was never officially accused.’
‘I bet they didn’t find his lab.’
‘No, I suspect you’re right.’
‘Either he was a media target, or he really was a nasty character. No doubt forensics will give us a broader picture in due course.’
Jim said, ‘We still don’t know who shut him in that room. If he killed those girls, might the mothers have killed him in revenge? Simply locked him in his lab, and walked out?’
‘Couldn’t blame them, but I doubt we’ll ever find out, now. Are either of those mothers still around?’
‘I haven’t looked.’
‘Probably a waste of time, anyway. And talking of carpets, we’ve got a positive I.D. from one of the smaller living rooms for the green threads found on one of the toms.’ He hesitated, but Redwall didn’t react. ‘So, she was definitely killed in that house, in that room.’
‘Has anyone found evidence that Robin’s been there?’
‘We can’t place Robin there at all.’
‘Not to date.’
‘If Robin met Sarah in the hospital, and they started dating, maybe Joel’s not her brother, but an ex?’
‘It’s one possibility. We won’t know till we find this mysterious Joel,’ Redwall said.
Chapter 46
Robin lay for a while, half-way between dream and reality, but eventually the faint movement of air against his skin nudged him into alertness. He reached towards Sarah, to find her space in the bed empty. His eyes flicked open, and he was instantly awake, scuttling back against the pillows, pulling the sheets with him.
Leaning a chair precariously back on two legs, perusing him with a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction, was the most beautiful young man he’d ever seen; even more exquisite than the shadowy, pain-distorted mental images he recalled from over a year ago.
His breath left his lungs. ‘Sarah?’ he asked tightly.
‘I wouldn’t hurt Sarah for the world,’ Joel responded, thumping the chair to the floor, and standing. ‘She’s making us all a nice cup of tea. Why don’t you come down and join us?’
Robin had never thrown clothes on so fast.
He leapt down the stairs two at a time, then halted abruptly, his eyes meeting Sarah’s. ‘Are you OK?’
She nodded, her expression one of absolute numb disbelief.
‘I said I wouldn’t hurt her,’ Joel said peevishly.
Seeing them in the same room, it was obvious they were brother and sister. In fact, he would have assumed the same mother, too. The similarities were spooky, given that Sarah was almost petite, with fine bones, and Joel topped six feet plus, and was padded with muscle. On him, the fine, almost golden hair lent a surreal appearance, as if Narcissus had fallen from the heavens to adore himself in the modern world.
Sarah turned and put mugs of tea on the table. ‘Joel, you might as well sit down and discuss this like adults.’
Joel turned his mug by the handle with a dismissive finger. ‘Whatever happened to real china?’
She winced at the incongruous statement. ‘Joel, I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll never trust yo
u again, not after that last stunt. And I’m never going back to that house.’
‘No, that would be unwise. The police are all over it.’
Sarah turned white. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Exactly what I said. They’re fingerprinting everything, and going over the walled garden with ultrasound.’
‘How did that happen?’ she whispered.
‘That reporter who let you out, Freman, well, he very stupidly came back. I killed him, but somehow the cops were on his trail, and I had to run.’
‘You what?’ Sarah’s voice shook.
‘You heard. He was interfering in my business. Luckily, I’d just left when they arrived. I saw the helicopter. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go back and get anything. It took me a while to figure out where you might have gone. There was no point checking Robin’s house, of course.’
‘No, you blew it up!’ Robin snapped. He was confused. Sarah had told him Joel had a really low IQ, but there was no indication. He was horribly lacking in compassion – he killed Freman, and it was a throw-away remark? – but not lacking in intellect. Why would she lie?
‘Well, yes.’ Joel’s smile was the definition of self-admiration. ‘It was spectacular, actually. Better than I’d hoped. Quite pleasing. The only shame was, you weren’t in it.’
His eyes, bright and hard as amber marbles, betrayed nothing human. They held only the cold calculation of a predator. Sarah, who was sitting rigid, stared at Joel with shock. She pushed herself slowly to her feet, and backed away from the table.
‘Papa?’
Joel grinned. ‘Finally, you’ve worked it out. My beautiful, murdering little bitch of a daughter. I’m quite proud of you, actually. Do you realise how painful it is to die of starvation? Afterwards, it took me a long time to realise what had actually happened, that I’d somehow ended up in Joel’s pea-brain. And that was another problem, of course. I was imprisoned in the skull of a moron, and it took years before I gained the strength to push him aside. His mother must have been even more stupid than I realised. How could I know she’d squeeze out a retard?’
Stations of the Soul Page 21