With a fresh cup of coffee, and room for it in his bladder, Ash sat back at his desk readied for the task ahead. He had to put all his concentration into the document he had compiled. If there were patterns then he was probably the last person on earth he would have chosen to analyse them, but he was alone without another soul to pass this on to. Ash sat and read line by line, first the names. There were different variations of the same names appearing on his list. Where Ash first thought he saw the name Abdul several times, on second reading it became obvious that there were the names Abubakar, Abdullah, Abdurrahman, Abdelaziz and Aariz. Nothing to go on there. Ash pictured the beer and ready meal he had in the fridge. He estimated that he would be there in around half an hour. Two minutes to check the addresses on his list, five to type up his note to Gus (his handwriting wasn’t good enough to rely on in important matters) and then that left him 23 minutes to get home and slam the food in the microwave. It was a cottage pie and would sit perfectly with the beer that he would have already half-drunk by the time the ping went on the microwave and he would be ready to eat.
Ash looked down the list of addresses, and even wondered if they were real.
26 Valley Parade
24 The Rowans
96 Bull Lane
148 High Street
22 Smith Street
They all felt like the names that a novelist would give to streets. He hadn’t the same encyclopaedic knowledge of street names as some in the force, so couldn’t immediately tell if they were imaginary, to fool a quick inspection or if they related to actual parts of Washington. Ash looked further down the list and saw another flurry of street names that could have been written down on a whim. He was just about to start typing his note to Augustine when something caught his eye. At the bottom of the page, presumably from a driving licence, he saw the address 24 The Rowans again. Then as he scanned back up to find where he saw it last, a third edition of the same address appeared. Ash knocked his coffee on the floor as he shot up in shock at the words on the page. The same address 3 times? Surely that’s more than a coincidence, Ash thought to himself. He clicked off the word processor on his page and onto a browser. Ash typed in the street address and waited a few seconds before he looked back up at the screen. It the meantime he threw a couple of paper napkins he had in his top drawer in the general direction of the coffee spill. They turned a shade of teak similar to his desk as they soaked up most of the liquid. He was still standing from the surprise that a routine check gave him something to go on. His back was starting to twinge at the awkward angle he was operating his computer from, but he couldn’t sit back down again. He was a ball of nervous energy. The screen revealed what he wanted to see. There was a 24 The Rowans in Washington. It was a ten-minute drive away. He looked back through the documents to find the three that matched the address. Ash was so engulfed in the envelope that he failed to notice someone enter the room behind him.
The other occupant of the room walked slowly along the opposite side of the room to Ash. It was as though he hadn’t noticed the detective stood at the desk only a few yards away. But he was aware that there was another body in the room. He didn’t want to be detected. The second occupant slid his feet along the ground so they wouldn’t make any sound when pressed against or removed from the vinyl flooring that covered the office. It was in grey and black squares that might have once been black and white. They had obviously been there for some time and looked as though the grey wasn’t uniform across the floor. The second occupant of the room stopped in his tracks directly behind Ash but only a few feet away. It was the point in the room where he was least likely to be seen by the detective.
Ash continued to search through the envelope and found the first item he was looking for. It was a rent book with the name Abdullah Abubaker typed on the front with what appeared to be a typewriter. The days and months were handwritten on the inside but there was no year shown at all. Ash guessed this must be several years old from the condition and the fact that most of this was now done online. He searched the driving licences to see which matched the address and found it at the bottom of the pile. Ash told himself that if he had started at the bottom of the pile, it would have been on the top. It was always the last place he looked. The photograph was faded almost to the point where you couldn’t make out if there was someone in the picture or not. It wouldn’t help Ash identify the killer if he bumped into him in the street. He hoped that whoever lived in that address now would have some more information on where he had gone to. He was now excited to gather these documents and get across town to check the address out. His cottage pie and beer would have to wait, but The Rowans wasn’t much of a detour on his way home, so he could put up with that.
As Ash found the final item that matched the address, an insurance document for the property, the other occupant was approaching from behind. The second occupant of the room raised both his hands as he reached Ash. By now the detective could see a shadow move across his line of sight, but it was too late. He was pushed towards the desk. Ash spun around to get a glimpse of his attacker, He reached to one side for something to use in defence or attack but could only find a hole punch. It would have to do. He looked up and found the person in the room with him had chosen the perfect line. He couldn’t make them out against the light. He heard them clear their throat and waited to hear what he suspected were going to be the last words he ever heard.
“Ash. What are you doing here this late?”
Gary had a few things to pick up from the station after the funeral. He had got changed out of his black suit after the funeral and left it behind at the end of the day. He didn’t like to leave anything away from home overnight, so decided to pick it up as he made his way back from a restaurant meal to home. He saw the light on in the office, realised it was Ash and decided to play a trick on him. Ash was still panting as Gary stepped back and laughed.
“You’re lucky you didn’t get this across the face,” he spat out between large breaths.
“And what the fuck would that have done to me? Might as well hit me with a pea shooter!” Gary countered in his usual combative style. Even if he could see that his prank hadn’t been taken in the way it was intended, he wasn’t about to back down.
“What were you trying to achieve? Did you think we would have a laugh about this afterwards? You are a prick, Gary. You always have been and always will be,” Ash let out years of frustration with his colleague. He forgot his earlier thoughts that he would step into the catalyst role that Lou was vacating and let rip, “There is something wrong with you. You don’t want to be part of this team, so why are you here?”
“Go fuck yourself,” were Gary’s last words on the subject as he walked out of the office. He picked up his suit and disappeared for the night. Ash felt his skin crawl when Gary got that close. Maybe this case going wrong was supposed to happen. Maybe it was fate that the team was broken up and he didn’t have to put up with Gary’s shit any more. Ash packed his stuff and put the documents in the top pocket of his shirt. He made his way to the car and set out to the address that had appeared 3 times in his search – 24 The Rowans. Maybe the present resident would know where Alaaldin Hussein had gone to.
40
Al was patient. He knew that there would be an ideal time to strike, and this was going to be a little later in the evening, when the traffic had almost completely disappeared and he could work undetected. There was plenty of time. His prey wouldn’t move for some time once they had arrived where he expected them. He had seen the detective he wanted leave the police station and had an idea where they were headed. The case looked to be pointing towards him now, so he decided at that moment to act once that night and then vanish until the following year. It gave him time to plan again and would put them off the scent. By the time he killed again, there would be a focus on a new killer or a new menace on the streets of the city. He will have been forgotten about and could resume his message where it left off, even if his message would live on during that time.
But that night was to be the most important of his mission. This would be the killing that would turn heads across the world. People would read the headlines and see the beginning of the message he was trying to spread. They would look at their own life and decide if they were on the side of right or wrong. This would be the act that would change the ways of the world. This would stop sinners from continuing with a life that they knew deep down was amoral.
Al found a square block of streets that he could walk. This meant he could stave off the slight chill from the night air, burn off his nervous tension and not cause suspicion by staying in one place. He was sure that these streets wouldn’t have CCTV cameras, but kept his hood pulled tight over his face just in case. This was all the kind of research he would have to go through over the next 8 months to be ready for the next summer and the continuation of his work. He tried to walk along the streets as softly as he could. He felt like a tiger on the prowl for his next kill and was aware enough of this emotion to consider that others might see it in him too. In a city that was filled with fear from the killings he had already enacted, all he needed was some do-gooder to call the police because he looked suspicious and undo all of his good work. One kill and then off to safety. That was the only way that Al could reconcile why he was out in the cold looking for a big target without having all the research he would normally have at his disposal. He looked at his watch and it showed a few minutes before half past nine. He could feel the adrenaline surge through his body. It felt like an internal pressure on his face. Al stepped up the pace and tried to walk it off. He would need to have a steady mind and hand to carry out his work.
41
“I didn’t think you would come,” Christine said to Augustine as he walked through the door. It was a strange place. He had been in some dives during his days at university. The kind of places that might as well have had a sign on the door saying, ‘no students.’ The kind of places where the noise generated by a hundred people talking would stop in a heartbeat and every pair of eyes would hit the outsiders at the door at the same time. This was something different altogether.
Augustine looked around. He wasn’t deliberately ignoring Christine, but wanted to take it all in. It was the opposite of the theatre on the first date. It was as though all the vibrant colour had been erased from the scene, to be replaced with greys, browns and blacks. Augustine felt more at home in this kind of place than the theatre, but wished that he didn’t. This was a public house like they used to be. It obviously hadn’t been updated like the rest of the bars in town. A mix of charm and disgust washed over Augustine’s face. He liked the idea that the place had resisted the makeovers and modern décor that he was used to in a pub, but the reality wasn’t a patch on that idea. A single central light shone above the bar, presumably to allow the bar staff the opportunity to see what they were pouring. After that you would return to the darker corners of the pub and drink in darkness it seemed. The pub was busy with what looked like people who wanted a piece of the good times from their youth but were not enjoying it one bit. Augustine counted the faces quickly and got to around 25 before realising that not one of them wore even the faintest hint of a smile. He thought that he must have looked as though he was meant to be there, and tried to make eye contact with another patron to see if they could smile together. All eyes were on their drinks or the floor.
Augustine looked back in the direction that his welcome came from. He had left it too long to reply, so asked Christine if she wanted a drink. She didn’t, so he went to the bar for one solitary drink. It felt strange to order just one drink at a time but Augustine had the feeling that the staff there were used to it. The barman looked him up and down as he approached as though he was deciding whether Augustine was worthy of his service. It appeared that he was and Augustine returned to the table with a beer that was still settling in the glass. It was as though the yeast was still doing its work and the beer was very much alive. Augustine took a sip to make it easier to carry without spilling. He looked at the area surrounding Christine. The table she had chosen was one of those high ones with stools around. It was placed in an alcove that appeared even darker than the rest of the bar. The curtains behind her were drawn. It looked as though they had never been opened. They were thinning from years of assault by the sun. Augustine swore he could see people walk past in the street through them and tried to make them out but thought better of it. If someone was going to the trouble of putting up these curtains in a pub when every other pub and bar in town didn’t, then they were there for a purpose, he reasoned.
“Hi. I’m sorry about that. I was taken aback by your choice of meeting place. I didn’t expect to find you in here,” Augustine offered something by way of apology. He didn’t know what to say or where to start with Christine after the last date. He wanted to pick up where they left off before heading backstage but knew that wasn’t possible. The time after that would always be with them. He didn’t know what else he could say or do to make things feel any different.
“Don’t worry. I don’t make a habit of it. In fact, it took me some time on Trip Advisor to find somewhere so dark,” Christine explained. She broke into the slightest smile with the last sentence. They both hoped it would break the ice.
“I have wanted to call you, but didn’t know what to say,” Augustine went for the elephant in the room as though it had trampled him at some stage in the past and needed to be tamed. Christine sat forward and looked him in the eye. It was meant as a gesture of reconciliation and to show that she was listening, but Augustine took it as a prompt to shut up. The silence took over. Augustine started to count, aware that he had missed the first few seconds. He started at 5. By the time he reached 20 there was a tension in the air, Augustine felt that the rest of the pub were looking at the two of them waiting to see who would break the silence and where the conversation would go. If he had eyes in the back of his head then he would see a pub that resembled the one he saw when he first looked in. Every one of them concentrating on their drink or with eyes trained on something on the floor.
He had to break it, “I am sorry about Betty. I’m sorry I couldn’t do any more. He was so close…”
Christine looked into his eyes. She had mixed feelings about the man that was sat over the round tatty table that she had chosen because it was near the door. She felt like this was a place that she might need to escape from in a hurry. This man had made her feel young and wanted again for the few hours on their last date. She hadn’t felt like that in a long time. He made her feel cool. She knew parts of town and people that he didn’t. he was excited to be there, and she was the one that showed him a night that he had never experienced before. To a point. And he was also the cop that let her friend’s killer walk straight past him. She didn’t expect that he could have known but it was still the cold hard facts. A man killed her friend and then walked right past this detective that she felt something for.
“There was nothing you could have done. I was sure he was going to tell me something. I will never know what that was. Do you understand how that makes me feel?” Christine decided that the conversation was hers. She would ask the questions and he would answer. That way she wouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable with her words. That way she could listen to what he had to say.
“I can only imagine. I don’t want to make things any worse. I enjoyed my time with you in the bar and in the audience, but the night ended in so much tragedy I can only feel that I am forever entwined with that in your eyes. This is what I deal with every day. One of the reasons I deal with it is so that the rest of society doesn’t have to,” Augustine spoke with such clarity that it was Christine’s turn to look around the room for an answer. But his honesty turned the conversation to something lighter. They sat and talked. The rest of the bar sat motionless as though they were extras in the scene. Outside the chill of the air was starting to bite. The city was preparing for autumn and the winter that followed.
42
Ash arrived at
the street and drove up and down looking for the number 24 on a door, a bin or a gate. It didn’t seem to be there. He pulled up in the middle of the road and looked across at the nearest house. Number 17. So, he needed to be on the other side of the road and a little further one way or another. But which way? To the left was the number 15 and to the right the number 19. Across the road and right. Ash looked up and down the road before deciding to walk on the side he was already on. This would give him a better view of the property he was there to study. Ash liked to approach on foot and from a little distance so he had time to check things out. He watched lots of horror films when he was younger and the biggest problem the victims had was that they were caught by surprise. They were too close to the killer and couldn’t move when he (it was almost always a ‘he’ in the movies just like his experience in real life murder investigations) jumped out and attacked. Ash resolved to keep his distance in life as much as he could. He thought of the danger in every situation. He was as cautious as they came. When starting a relationship, Ash would take no details from them. He didn’t want to be seen as presumptuous or pushy. He kept his distance and let the woman do all the running. It cost him relationships because he came across as cold or aloof. But he didn’t want the danger of being called out for his actions.
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