Beyond the Blood Streams

by Ben Oakley

  Aren't you curious to know who it is.

  Not really, no.

  You can't run from everything, Harrison.

  I placed my hand on the front door of the bar, “oh Jess, what happened? Who was it? Talk to me.”

  “It's a damn shame,” a man's voice from behind hit my ears.

  I let my hand drop off the door and breathed slowly before turning to face him. He looked kind of familiar but I couldn't place him. He was a heavy-set guy long into his fifties, briefcase in hand, thick-rimmed sunglasses that hid his eyes, a wide-brimmed hat and a newspaper under his arm.

  His face was potted with the scars of a skin rash. He looked a little strange if I was honest and he unnerved me with his high-pitched American accent. I couldn't place the voice but it had a bit of Texan in there, although I wasn't great at placing American accents.

  Then it hit me, “you were in the bar the day Jess disappeared, you were reading the broadsheet newspaper.”

  “That's right, Tom's the name.” He put out his hand to shake mine but for some reason I didn't reciprocate. “Oh that's okay, I can imagine it's been hard on you, I know you went back years with her. She talked about you sometimes.”

  “Who are you to her?”

  “I go here for a drink most days. Have been for the past year. I keep walking by with hope the door will be open and she will be in there with my drink, ready and waiting.”

  I nodded at him and started to walk away but then I stopped and turned back. He was standing still just staring at me.

  “Where were you last night?” I said.

  “Hey now, I was just making small talk, I miss this place already as much as you do. It's not just yourself that needed a friendly face every now and again. If you want to ask me about something else then please come out and say it.”

  “Okay, why are you here right now?”

  “On my way home from the office.”

  “Where do you work?”

  “I read the Financial Times daily so I'm sure you can work it out. I think you're being rather personal now. I was just walking by to see if it was open and offer my condolences as I always will do.”

  Damn, why was I assuming everyone to be the killer? I didn't even know this guy and I was being rude as hell to him.

  “I'm sorry,” I held my hand out and he shook it, “Harrison Lake. The past day has been difficult, excuse my ignorance.”

  “It's no problem, like I said, I understand. I know who you are, she always did speak of you.”

  “Did she speak much about anything else?”

  “Only the usual; business rates, council stupidity and the Blood Streams.”

  “She spoke about the Blood Streams?”

  “Most of the time she had a new conspiracy or something like that. Listen, Harrison, I have to head off but I'll keep popping by in the hope it opens once again.”

  I nodded at him with a reassuring look on my face. He walked off down the road, faster than I would have expected for a man of his girth. He seemed harmless enough but I was starting to think everyone truly was a suspect. I'd be suspecting Daisy the waitress next.

  She did know Ana Fernandez, that was a given, but I was highly certain the killer was a male.

  My phone rang suddenly. I now felt a little apprehension and nervousness when it rang. Having Stansey King on the other end, suffering, wasn't the easiest of situations to deal with. I'm sure once this was over I'd need some kind of therapy myself.

  If it would ever be over.

  I answered the call.

  “It's Salt here,” he said on the other end. “I've sent the list over to your email with some additional information on each victim.”

  “Thank you.”

  “A background check is being run on Doctor Foster. Medical professionals are a little trickier to run a check on because of the General Medical Council privacy laws. Yes, even we can't circumnavigate that. Still, one of the data team will send you a link over as soon as they have all of it.”

  “Any news on Stansey King?”

  There was silence for a moment, “nothing. She vanishes at Highgate Cemetery and no CCTV picks up anyone remotely looking like her in the vicinity or beyond. We've been trialling a new facial recognition system on London's CCTV network so we are looking at bringing it into life shortly. We'll do the same for Megan Paine and this King girl.”

  I didn't quite know what to say next so I left it for a bit and looked back at the front of The Ribnik. It was the wrong time to crave a drink but I could have done with one right about then. I could also have done with Jess's help and calming talks but I knew that wasn't coming anytime soon.

  “I think I might go home,” I said, “I need to look at these names. There's going to be a spark somewhere, I know it.”

  “Get some rest Harrison, tomorrow's going to be full on. Oh and Harrison?”

  “Salt?”

  “You have your access to the Linden Psychiatric Hospital.”

  I silently punched the air, “great news!”

  “Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Give your name at reception and then the head psychiatrist will come and find you. His name is Doctor Cobbs and I know him very well, a little too well, but you're gonna struggle to get anything out of him or that place.”

  “I'll be there with bells on,” I said.

  “Be careful up there. They've never been the easiest people to work with so watch your step and keep your wits about you. I don't trust them.”

  Thirty One

  I don't trust them.

  Those words were playing over and over in my head as I walked home. If Salt didn't trust them then something fishy must have been going on at Linden. But I'd find that out the following morning.

  I needed to research, I had a lot of information to go on but no concrete connections. I had briefly read the list of names on my phone but I always found it tricky to walk and read. I didn't know how people could do it and be fully aware of their surroundings at the same time. It was a skill I'd yet to learn.

  Again, I felt a little apprehensive upon arriving back home. I hated feeling like it but I guess it was inevitable yet understandable. No one liked feeling vulnerable, especially in their own home.

  By the time I washed and got some food, I was sitting in front of my laptop in the work room of the house. It had just gone ten at night when I'd turned on a lot of the main lights in the house. I didn't want to sit there in the dark but I also didn't want possible intruders looking in from the outside at only one lit room. I wanted the entire house illuminated to throw them off the scent.

  If they were out there and I'm sure they were.

  I opened the email and copied and pasted the list of names to an OpenOffice document. Then looked closer at them. They were in no particular order.

  Stansey King

  Ana Fernandez

  Jess Ashby

  Jennifer Cane

  Tammy Norton

  Zoe Jackson

  Scarlet Jacobs

  Emily Stone

  Lena Nowicki

  Irena Kopitar

  Marija Vidmar

  Neema Awolowo

  Kate Jacobson

  Naomi Brown

  Carmen Caldwell

  Katrina Barclay

  Mia Johnson

  Seventeen females of all ethnic origins. The youngest was 15-year-old Tammy Norton and the oldest was 28-year-old Jennifer Cane. Nothing else stood out in the list but it was difficult to believe there was no connection.

  I picked up my phone and called the only person I had left. My boss; Mel Harvey. It rang out a little bit before she answered.

  “Harrison, I hope this is you getting rest?”

  “Time is running out Mel, I need your help.”

  “For you or for her?”

  “For everyone involved. We're drawing closer to the final 24 hours before Megan Paine is killed.”

  “What do you have so far? I'll see what I can do?”

  I clicked send on an email I had just writ
ten, “I've just sent a riddle over to you, something about a pond deep in the heart of the ancient lands.”

  “I'll pick it up shortly. Tell me more.”

  I opened the document I'd copied the killer's note onto. “Something about wildlife not venturing near it. It's evil with a bad atmosphere, no Sun, black waters. Feeding the Blood Streams.”

  “It's okay, it's just come through.” There was a few moments silence before she spoke again. “It's not a riddle and I'm not sure what it is but when he is talking about a place where the Sun never penetrates then it's most likely a forest. In dense forests, sunlight can't break through the canopy of the trees.”

  A forest had never occurred to me before. “Where the hell is there a forest around here?”

  “Nowhere with the density the author suggests. Harrison, might I suggest sending this over to your temporary boss.” She struck temporary with a disinterested tone.

  “He already has it. And you'll always be my boss.”

  “That's good, I'd rather not lose you.”

  “You're not gonna lose me but I'm not sure what a forest has to do with anything?”

  “I'll send it over to my mythology contact at Cambridge, there might be something in it.”

  “Thanks Mel. Honestly, when this is over I look forward to kicking back with a bottle of wine with you.”

  “When this is over you're headed to Portent Hotel for their final night, your name's on the invitation.”

  “Yeah, I got that email too.”

  She never refused a bottle of white wine. I preferred red. There was something about white wine that disagreed with my stomach. I read somewhere it was to do with the sulphites and I might have had a sulphite allergy but never got around to checking it out.

  “I know you're not going to rest in the way I hoped you would. But try and get some rest, Harrison.”

  “Everyone's always telling me to rest. I'll rest once Paine is safe and dry, and Jess gets the justice she deserves.”

  “I thought you might say that. I'll get back to you on the note. Ciao for now.”

  And with that she ended the call. I couldn't imagine being a full-blown editor. I wanted to be out there researching and investigating. Being tied to a seat for most of the day filled me with dread. Still, it was what needed to be done.

  I thought back to reading the note in Salt's office. There had been a mildly alcoholic aroma to it, like old beer which had seeped into the wooden walls of a centuries-old local brewery. The aroma was lost to my memory and thought processes.

  Why write a note? Surely it would have been the riskiest thing to do. Unless he wanted to be caught? Then it occurred to me. Had this entire plan of his been executed in order to see him captured? It felt to me like he wanted to be remembered for whatever he was doing.

  I had researched and come across many serial killers in my time and there were very few who wished to continue their campaigns of terror. In fact most were surprised they weren't captured early enough and so continued their campaigns until they were finally caught.

  It was in the cat-and-mouse period when they were at their most dangerous. It was when they began to feel their time was up or planned to be caught that saw their murders reach epidemic proportions.

  I looked at the list of names again and the files that had come through on each of them. There had definitely been an investigation on the Blood Streams in the background and I was surprised it had remained out of the public domain for so long.

  I stood and moved the laptop to the left side of the room and rested it on a smaller desk. I looked to the map with my restrictive circle in place and then placed seventeen red pins beside the laptop. I correlated the victims addresses with locations on the map and then placed pins onto where they lived.

  Only six of them had addresses. Five fell within my five mile restriction zone. The only anomaly was Stansey King who was based in Oxford. This meant that eleven of them didn't have a known address. It bugged me that I too was confined to the circle of victims.

  I looked closer at their files.

  It seemed most of them were homeless or sex workers and it didn't surprise me as they tended to be easy victims for a killer like this. Addresses were listed as no-fixed abode. I then assumed it was someone who used prostitutes or escorts on a regular basis and must have been seen by that community but I didn't know where to begin.

  There were numerous red-light-districts in London and contrary to popular belief, Soho wasn't the biggest, but it was the busiest. There were dozens of brothels in the Soho area alone, one of them was hiding in plain view of Chinatown and Leicester Square. One large four-storey building with two open doors were visited hourly by men from all walks of life.

  I had a feeling that brothels were not going to help me but I needed to ruffle feathers somehow. I wondered how to do it from my home.

  And then it hit me.

  Deep London.

  Thirty Two

  I quickly made an account on the Deep London Forum and went with the username; HighgateVampire. I went to the Blood Streams Conspiracy section and saw that 157 people were online, including 125 guests. Not everyone was posting and many were watching with the assumed anonymity of the internet.

  In the old days, as it were, serial killers used to go back to the scene of the crime. They would oversee the curious morbidity of the general public along with the investigation itself. In the digital age, there were so many more opportunities to watch online through social media and forums.

  I figured this was the biggest forum regarding the Blood Streams. If I was the killer I would be watching the forum with an inquisitive eye, combined with a desire to see how well I was being received. I had a suspicion he might have been watching.

  The usual three; canalkillerx, deadcalm1978, and LoadedWeapon were online and active.

  canalkillerx – I'm telling ya, the police presence alone tells me something is going on. They keeping secrets, man! How many secrets can they keep? Everyone fucking knows there's a killer out there so why don't they just come clean!!!!?

  LoadedWeapon – maybe they're protecting the killer?

  canalkillerx – For what reason? Don't make no sense.

  LoadedWeapon – Maybe not but I've seen police knocking on doors all round the estates every hour of every day and they don't even do that for gang murders.

  canalkillerx – Maybe one of their own had been knocked off?

  LoadedWeapon – That'd make sense. Police go crazy when one of their own are taken out.

  I decided it was time to enter and rustle a few feathers. No point in hanging around, time was getting on and tiredness was setting in.

  HighgateVampire – Hi everyone, thought I would jump in. Anyone know what happened up near Highgate?

  canalkillerx – Hey man, you're the Vampire!! whaddya see?

  HighgateVampire – Looked like a search party in the Cemetery and injured cops being carried out.

  canalkillerx – For real?!! How can you be sure though?

  HighgateVampire – I heard the Blood Streams Killer was in the Cemetery holding a girl hostage and then when the cops went in, it all went haywire.

  LoadedWeapon – Who are you, man?

  HighgateVampire – Just someone who wants safe streets for my kids.

  LoadedWeapon – Fair enough. Top bloke! If you're right then something big is going down. What else do you know buddy?

  HighgateVampire – Again, I heard this all on the grapevine but I heard the investigation had moved to the hospital.

  canalkillerx – Hospital? I don't get it?

  And then for the first time in the conversation, deadcalm1978 interjected and made his presence known.

  deadcalm1978 – Which hospital?

  It wasn't until a minute had passed that I decided to answer.

  HighgateVampire – You know which hospital.

  canalkillerx – Hold up buddy, if you're talking about Linden, you're on the wrong forum, there's a whole forum dedicated to that over on the
main menu.

  HighgateVampire – I'm exactly where I wanna be, this Blood Streams killer is connected to one of these hospitals somehow and you're right something big is going down. Ain't that right @ deadcalm1978.

  canalkillerx – Looks like he's crashed out buddy haha.

  LoadedWeapon – Scared him off eh?

  I wasn't sure about anything but it appeared I had certainly hit a nerve. That was until I saw him coming onto the forum's private message system. The little green beacon flashed until I accepted it. I decided to maintain the facade of the lie as long as it served my purpose.

  deadcalm1978 – What do you know about the hospitals?

  HighgateVampire – I had a friend who was transferred from the UCH to Linden.

  deadcalm1978 – So what?

  HighgateVampire – Something was up with the doctors there.

  deadcalm1978 – If you're talking about Linden then that place is fucked up.

  HighgateVampire – I'm talking about Linden and the UCH.

  deadcalm1978 – So what do you know?

  HighgateVampire – I was at the outpatients unit today and overheard a detective talking to one of the doctors there. It sounded serious, something about mistreatment maybe?

  deadcalm1978 – What happened to your friend?

  HighgateVampire – She died, mate. I think the hospital lied about her death.

  deadcalm1978 – I've been researching Linden for years. I can help you.

  HighgateVampire – In what way?

  deadcalm1978 – I got doctor's names, security processes, patients, routines, you fucking name it, I've got files of information. It's kinda consumed my life recently.

  HighgateVampire – What happened to you?

  deadcalm1978 – My sister vanished from the hospital a year back and her body was found in the canal shortly after. I've long suspected Linden to be the cause of her death.

  HighgateVampire – I'm sorry buddy. What was her name?

  deadcalm1978 – I don't know you, man! That shit's private.