The Sect (The Craig Crime Series)

by Catriona King

  The car arrived, ending their conversation and taking T.J. McDonagh to a place that he really didn’t want to go.

  ****

  4 p.m.

  As Craig was scrutinising the report Des had sent through his desk phone rang. It was Katy. He was surprised; she rarely rang him at work and when she did it was always on his mobile.

  “Hello, pet. Is something wrong?”

  His tone was concerned; hers was briskly professional.

  “Hi, Marc. I was thinking about your case and I might know someone who could help. That’s why I’ve phoned you at work. Because…” She giggled, proving that her professional approach was only a veneer. “…it’s official police business.”

  He was torn between smiling at her playfulness and panicking that she’d shared details of the case. The words were out before he could stop them.

  “You didn’t––”

  Her response was indignant. “No, I did not! You know me better than that. I’m calling about someone I met at work; a psychiatrist. She’s worked on some high profile criminal cases and I thought she might be able to help.”

  He could have kicked himself; he knew she would never give anyone details of a case. He grovelled furiously as her annoyance turned to hurt.

  “I didn’t mean that you would share details. I know you would never do that.”

  Silence. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad sign so he ploughed on, digging himself a deeper trench.

  “It’s kind of you, and I may take you up on it, but we’re not quite at that stage. Maybe if you could give me your friend’s name.”

  Wrong move.

  “So that you can get her checked out! Forget it. She’s a respected psychiatrist; I’m not having you running her through your criminal checks!”

  Craig could feel a slammed down phone in his near future so he searched for some mollifying words. “You’re right.” Always a safe bet. “Look, why don’t we discuss it tonight? Dinner at Hadskis?”

  It was her new favourite restaurant and he crossed his fingers that it would be enough. Her next words reminded him why he loved her. She rarely lost her temper and when she did it was over in a flash, then she felt so bad about shouting that she worried he was hurt.

  “I’m sorry, pet, I overreacted. Of course you must check her out. Her name’s Sofia Emiliani and she’s seconded to St Mary’s psych unit for six months, from the Maudsley in London. I think she’ll come and find you; she asked me where you worked.” She paused and her next words held a promise. “Let’s not go out tonight. Let’s have dinner at my place.”

  He wasn’t about to argue.

  “Sounds great. I’ll see you at eight?”

  They signed off happily; blissfully ignorant of the can of worms Katy had just opened in both of their lives.

  ****

  5 p.m.

  “OK everyone, gather round. We’ve a lot to get through and I don’t want to be here all night.”

  Liam nudged Andy’s elbow, splashing his coffee across Carmen’s chair. Luckily it was empty or there’d have been hell to pay.

  “Aye, aye. The boss has a romantic evening planned.”

  Craig raised an eyebrow.

  “Thanks for making it everyone’s business, Liam. OK, I know you’ve all been busy, but I’m going to start. I’ve just had some information from the lab. First, the print that Doctor Marsham found. In fact there were two different prints, found on the outer sheets of cling-film. The sizing says that they both belong to men.” Liam went to interrupt but Craig cut him off. “Before you ask, they’re definitely from different men, unless our perp has two right thumbs.

  Liam’s mouth snapped shut and his brain went into gear. “Two men could have carried the bodies easily without leaving footprints on the mud.”

  “They could. OK, Des and Davy are running the prints now and we’ll hear if they get any hits, but that’s not all Des found. It seems that our three victims had identical stomach contents, ingested three to four hours before death––”

  Jake cut in. “Some sort of ritual?”

  Craig nodded. “That was my thought. We don’t yet know what the food was; hopefully when we do it will tell us more.” He turned towards Davy. He was scratching again. “I’m sure you can get a cream for that.”

  Davy grinned impishly. “Why? Is it bothering you, Chief?”

  Craig didn’t rise to the bait. If Davy wanted him to ask why he was scratching he’d be waiting for a very long time.

  “Did you get anything on the checks I asked for?”

  The analyst kept itching with one hand and tapped his smart-pad with the other. “A lot. It’s coming up on Nicky’s screen now.”

  They formed a semicircle around Nicky’s desk, knowing that she would be moaning about the interruption if she were there. A list of five names appeared. Craig gasped.

  “All of these fit the parameters I gave you?”

  It should have been a statement, because as a question it was a waste of breath; Davy always did his job. He crossed to the screen and lifted a laser pointer, running it down the list as he spoke.

  “All five were under twenty-five years old and all were found drowned near Downpatrick in the past s…six months. The most recent was a girl a month ago…”

  Craig finished the sentence. “A teenage girl who fell into the River Quoile. Her body washed up near the yacht club, close to the coast.”

  Davy nodded. “She had none of the markers of our case. No tattoo, no cling-film and the w…water in her lungs was––”

  Liam interjected. “From the river, so everyone assumed that she’d fallen in and drowned?”

  Davy nodded. “One of the five drowned while out sailing with his brother––”

  Craig shook his head. “Accident. We can rule him out. ”

  “Another walked into the sea near Kilclief.”

  “Suicide. We can rule them out as well.”

  As the others watched, puzzled, Davy erased the two names. It left them with three: two males and one female. Ken was the first to comment.

  “Five seems a lot of young drownings in six months.”

  Jake shook his head. “We’re an island race so drowning is fairly common. If you raised the age limit you’d get the fishing deaths as well.”

  Craig returned to his seat and the others followed. “OK, I have a hunch, but that’s all it is––”

  Liam whispered deliberately loudly. “He’s batting ten for ten at the moment.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence but listen before you say yes. OK, my hunch says that if Elena Boraks was the first murder they committed then it was far too slick, so they must have had practice runs that weren’t so smooth and they might tell us something. They may have been careless and left something behind.”

  Liam gestured at the board. “These three were the practice?”

  “Some of them, perhaps. I’ve asked John to see if the lung and stomach contents of the last girl were saved and if they were to get Des to examine them.” He turned to Davy. “Davy, do the same with the males. I don’t want to waste much time on this. If it gives us something, great, but till then we work the case as usual. OK, let’s go round. Jake, tell me about Bobby McDonagh.”

  As Jake ran through their second victim’s early years Craig poured himself a fresh drink, tuning back in on the word ‘trouble’.

  “What sort of trouble?”

  “He acted out for a while: shoplifting, drinking, the usual stuff. He was referred to a social worker and eventually realised he was gay. Once that happened everything settled down. By all accounts he’d been a normal kid for the past two years, just helping in his dad’s garage and studying for A-Levels. He’d applied to Uni to do Spanish and French, and T.J. said he was getting ready to go on a trip to Spain when he last saw him at the beginning of March.”

  His tone said that there was something more.

  “And?”

  “And it turns out he’d been seeing a social work counsellor for the past t
wo years. T.J.’s phoned me with the name.”

  “Good. Let me know what you find out.” He turned to see Ken doodling Carmen’s name. He didn’t know whether to roll his eyes or be glad no-one else seemed to have noticed. Glad won. “Ken, what else did you find out about Elena Boraks?”

  The romantic straightened up quickly.

  “Well, her father seems to have had no idea what she really did for a living.” He made a face. “Or he didn’t want to know.”

  “What about the old abuse scars?”

  “It seems that her dear dead mother was responsible for those. She resented Elena’s birth for stopping her having a career as a dancer.” He shook his head. “And as the dad didn’t know Elena was a prostitute he can’t really help us with where she worked.”

  Craig tossed up whether to comment on something that had been bothering him or let it pass for the sake of peace. His sense of right won. “OK, good, but can we all stop referring to the girl as a prostitute, hooker or street walker, please; the correct term is sex worker.” He scanned the row of faces. “That goes for everyone, including me. I’ve been as guilty as the rest of you.” He moved on before anyone could comment. “Liam and Andy?”

  Liam began reporting, drawling in a perfect imitation of Reggie Boyd.

  “Aye well, we paid the bold Reggie a visit and he gave us the story on Sarah, or should I say, Sadie Beech. It seems she’s quite a girl and has been since she was a kid; theft, fraud, all the usual ladylike skills. They earned her a stretch in Wharf House in ninety-six.”

  “And since?”

  “Good as gold except for her taste in men.”

  Andy interjected, making even Liam blush. “She puts it about a bit, or a lot is nearer the mark. Sleeps with every man who doesn’t run too fast and most of them Class A scum. Though God knows how she gets them; I’ve seen her photo and she’s no oil painting.”

  Craig thanked his lucky stars there were no women in the room to object, especially Carmen. But before he could tell Andy to tone it down, Jake did it for him.

  “And I suppose you’re Tom Cruise?”

  Craig stifled a smile but he knew he had to act. He couldn’t reprimand Carmen for the way she’d talked about relatives and not do the same for a D.C.I., so he did something he rarely did but it was what the group needed. He shouted across the room, jerking everyone to high alert. Even Andy was roused, demonstrated by the fact that he finally sat up straight.

  “D.C.I. Angel, see me in my office after the briefing. The rest of you, I’ve had enough of this crap!” He glared at each of them in turn. “It’s probably my fault for being too easy-going, but there have been things said in the past few days that verge on the unprofessional and enough is enough! Three young people are dead and they all have grieving families. We have a job to do and I refuse to waste my time correcting officers’ behaviour every five minutes as if you were teenagers at school. I like a joke the same as the next person but this is getting ridiculous.” His warm baritone turned ominously cold. “Take this as a verbal warning, all of you, and the next person who makes a comment that I feel is unprofessional in any way will be given an official written one. Andy, apologise to everyone for those comments about a bereaved relative. NOW!”

  Liam was impressed. Craig’s voice was normally soft, made softer by his mixed accent, but it had taken on the force of a tannoy, and for once he wasn’t the only one being told off. The group froze, awaiting Andy’s response. One second later he proved he hadn’t the sense God gave him and began arguing with Craig.

  “But that’s what Reggie said.”

  Liam snorted. He didn’t want to land a fellow PC violator even deeper in it, but he had to tell the truth. “Not in those words he didn’t.”

  Craig’s next words held real menace. “It isn’t so much the fact that you said someone tended towards promiscuity, but your language. Although how Ms Beech’s social life is your business is beyond me! If you can’t see the problem here then we’ve a lot to talk about.” He turned sharply towards Liam, effectively erasing Andy from the group. Liam knew his cue.

  “Aye well, Reggie said she wasn’t a good picker of men. They all seemed to be bad lots. The one who was asked to leave the home was called Jim Upton. Reggie’s got his details out everywhere but he’s done a bunk. After he left Sam started bullying the younger boys in the youth club, and possibly doing more than bullying. One of the kids’ dads was just about to complain when Sam disappeared.”

  “Any sign he could be involved?”

  Liam shrugged. “Maybe, but it’s unlikely. He’s a church Deacon; pillar of the community sort. I’m chasing it up.”

  As the atmosphere thawed slightly Jake interjected. “Sam was known to social services, so were Bobby McDonagh and Elena Boraks. Could there be a link there?”

  Craig nodded. “Good call. It’s worth looking into, although I suspect if you threw a stone in some parts of Belfast anyone you hit would be known to them. Liam, follow up the social services’ links, as well as looking into the Deacon. Take whoever you need. Ken and Davy, check out James Upton. Davy, chase the details on the three drowning victims and the prints and stomach contents with Des. When you’ve got the information on the drownings let me have it immediately, please.”

  He glanced at the wall clock; it was almost six. “OK, as Liam surmised, I’m going to attempt to have a life this evening, I hope the rest of you will do the same.” He stood up and turned towards his office. “D.C.I. Angel, follow me. The rest of you, please leave.”

  Everyone wanted to hear Andy getting reamed but when Liam heard the ice in Craig’s order he cleared the floor. It was all fine and dandy getting called out by your boss, but it didn’t do to let your subordinates hear. What happened in fight club stayed in fight club, especially when that fight club involved senior officers who needed credibility with the lower ranks.

  He made certain everyone was in the lift then he returned and hid in Annette’s cubicle, just in time for Craig’s finale.

  “I am NOT discriminating against you as a man; I had a similar talk with a female member of staff less than twenty-four hours ago.”

  Liam’s ears pricked up. Which one was it: Nicky, Carmen or Annette? The question answered itself and explained Carmen’s absence from the briefing.

  Andy made an abortive rebuttal but Craig squashed it with a ‘be quiet’. Liam smiled. He had to admire Andy’s guts answering the boss back, but not knowing when to shut up was probably the reason for his failed marriages. As Liam listened Craig’s office finally fell quiet, then the door was flung open and Andy stormed across the floor at a pace he probably hadn’t achieved since he was a kid, narrowly missing Liam hunkering in his hiding place.

  As the lift door closed Craig gave a sigh so loud that it was probably heard on the ground floor. His next words surprised Liam.

  “You can come out now, Liam. I’ve got the coffee on.”

  Liam didn’t know whether to stay hidden to prove him wrong, but that could mean him crouching down for hours and he had a bad back, or saunter nonchalantly across the floor as if he hadn’t been hiding at all. He settled on the latter and took a seat in Craig’s office. If he’d expected confiding camaraderie then he’d got it wrong. Craig turned on him accusingly.

  “This is your fault.”

  The D.C.I. gawped. “Mine? How the heck––”

  “You should have warned Andy about my exchanges with Carmen, never mind given him the benefit of your last equality course.”

  He was half-smiling and Liam knew the moment of danger had passed. Craig’s temper wasn’t pretty but it only blew a few times a year and it was never physical. Well, not with people; there was always John’s plate glass. If he’d known about Craig’s near conviction for assault when he was seventeen he might have changed his mind, but that was a secret only Annette and Craig’s family held.

  He shot Craig his offended innocent look.

  “Andy’s a law unto himself and he has a hell of a mouth on him. Not even I w
ould have said what he did.” He shook his head and whistled.

  “That had better not be an admiring whistle.” The whistling stopped. “And you would have said it a few years ago, so don’t go pretending that you’re some sort of saint.” Craig’s face turned grim again. “I’m sending him on an equality course, but talk to him, Liam. If he does that again he could be out of the force. The same goes for hitting on female officers the way he does. I’ve told him it has to stop…” His face suddenly cracked into a smile “…can’t you find him a girlfriend?”

  Liam shook his head swiftly. “Oh, no, you’re not landing me with that. The only women I know are Danni’s friends and if I introduced him to one of them and it went wrong I’d be hearing about it till I died.” He grinned. “Katy or Natalie might know someone who could be his match.”

  It was a joke, but they didn’t know what surprises the future held.

  Chapter Eleven

  Moira, County Antrim. Sunday 29th March, 6 a.m.

  The men watched as the rust haired teenager strolled erratically down the empty morning street. They knew where he was heading and it wasn’t to early mass; more importantly they knew where he’d been the night before. As their eyes followed him dispassionately, the boy paused outside an open shop and, with a difficulty bordering on farcical, withdrew some coins from his pocket before pushing open the door.

  He could have been any youngster on a Sunday morning, hung over and doing the walk of shame, except that he wasn’t and no level of shame would compensate for the things that he had done.

  As the youth re-emerged with his bag of basics and staggered five minutes down the road, he passed a layby where he was dragged, yelling, into a tinted windowed SUV. The driver made a call and then drove swiftly towards the motorway, before any neighbours could be woken by the screaming and the forces of law and order could arrive.

  ****

  9 a.m.