“You are here about the guy who was murdered, aren’t you?” Julie said.
“How do you know about that?” Alex said.
The details had been kept out to the press entirely, how did this ‘Julie’ woman know anything about it?
“It was on the news, recognised it straight away. Oh what was the name?” Julie said.
“You know the name of the man who was killed-”
“Mr Barnaby, that’s it. He was interested in this house, I assume that is why you are here?” Julie said.
Lewis Barnaby was the name of the victim from the night before, not the Grey’s Inn victim.
“When was he here?” Dimitri said.
“Oh, some time last week, he was looking to buy after coming into some money,” Julie said, bringing up some record on her phone. “See here, came to look at the place last Monday.”
Julie showed Alex her phone, displaying an appointment in her calendar with the booking.
“But I guess that’s all over,” Julie said.
“I imagine so,” Alex said curtly. She opened the case file she had with her and showed Julie the picture of Lewis Barnaby, “Can I ask you to confirm if this was the man you spoke to?”
“No, that isn’t Mr. Barnaby.”
Alex looked at her, puzzled for a moment.
“Are you sure?”
“Definitely.”
Then an idea popped into Alex’s head. She pulled out the printed image from her pocket.
“What about this man?”
“That’s him,” Julie said.
Dimitri and Alex stood quietly for a moment, Julie had just identified the Grey’s Inn victim as the victim from the previous night. They had positive ID for Lewis Barnaby, which meant the Grey’s Inn victim had stolen his identity.
“And you believed his name to be Lewis Barnaby?”
“It is, isn’t it?” Julie said.
“Did Mr Barnaby have a key?”
“No, not until he paid. We don’t go giving out keys to people who just show interest, contracts have the be signed.”
“Do you remember anything else about him, anything peculiar?”
“He seemed like a nice guy, but I only saw him the once,” Julie said.
“Could you give Detective Teplov all the details he provided you with please?” Alex said.
Julie gave the details to Dimitri, although Alex doubted she would be able to check them without alerting the government types.
With little more to gain from the place, all evidence removed by the government and Julie sharing the extent of her knowledge, the pair left. Alex took a long deep breath.
“So our Greys Inn victim, and we still don’t know his name, was posing as the next victim of our serial killer?” Dimitri said.
“Which maybe suggests that our killer went looking for his next victim, Mr Barnaby, only to find our Greys Inn man. We are still no closer to knowing why he was after our serial killer,” Alex said.
“It’s what we said before, the Grey’s Inn victim knew how to track the killer. This was just part of the plan, to lure him here. What was so special about Mr. Barnaby that would have made the serial killer choose him?”
“If anything, it suggests there is a pattern to it all. How do you think this ties in with what we saw on the CCTV footage?”
“You talking about the impossibly fast man?”
“Exactly. Was whatever that was our killer?”
“Don’t you mean whoever?” Dimitri said.
She should have, but she didn’t. Whatever they saw in the footage was beyond normal, even if Alex didn’t know what she really meant by that. Her mind whizzed with theories, of government experimentation. It would explain the government interest, if there was more to this than a run of the mill serial killer, if he was something more. It was a mad idea. She caught tangible, flesh and blood humans, she didn’t chase things from fantasy, Christ, she was starting to sound like a conspiracy theorist.
Dimitri’s phone buzzed and he answered the call.
“We’ll be right there,” he said.
“What’s happening?” Alex said.
“It’s the search we put out, it’s got a hit. We’ve found the Grey’s Inn murderer.”
And they were gone. Alex leaned out of the car window and attached the siren to the roof, as they raced to Camden.
“Suspect spotted in Camden Market,” Drew said over the radio.
“Where about?”
“Stable Yard, head up Chalk Farm Road and then-”
“I know where you mean, I’ll radio in when we get there.”
If Alex thought her driving could be frantic, she was nothing compared to Dimitri. It didn’t take them long to get to Camden, the twenty minute drive completed in no more than ten as Alex found herself slammed against the door as he took corners at ridiculous speeds. He pulled the car into the side of the street and Alex was out before he stopped.
“Where was the suspect last spotted?” Alex said over the radio, struggling to keep it to her mouth as she ran as fast as she could.
“Just seen entering the Eastern Horse Tunnel,” Drew said.
Drew was organising the operation from the station, in communication with all the officers on the ground. He had kept the real reason they were hunting the suspect a secret, their evidence for his arrest not technically part of any ‘official’ investigation.
“I’ve just crossed Stables Yard, Dimitri is behind me,” Alex said.
“I have him on radio. We have two uniforms approaching you now and another two down an offshoot to stop him if he goes that way. There are three currently moving the same way as you, you should reach them soon. Alex, remember we don’t want a scene,” Drew said.
Alex reached the uniformed police officers who pointed toward the man they were pursuing. Their target was moving slowly ahead of them, Alex and the three constables nearing him with every step, until they were only about six feet away. The suspect paused for a second, turning back and, as he did, his eyes met Alex’s. No longer hidden by the blur of the CCTV, Alex saw his streamlined features and dark eyes for the first time, and was transfixed by his gaze. It was mad, he was an unknown suspect, a man she had never spied before today and yet, there was something powerful, sexual even, about those eyes. He drew a crooked smile across his face and turned.
It took Alex a moment to realise what was happening, still caught in the moment of that gaze. Ahead, the two constables at the end of the tunnel moved to intercept him, as the three constables around Alex chased after suspect as he sped through the crowd.
The suspect saw the two constables closing in ahead and looked back at Alex, giving her a broad self-gratifying smile. Something was wrong. The man withdrew a blade from under his coat, the metal glimmering in the light, and Alex saw too late what was about to happen. He drove the knife through the stab vest of one of the constables, leaping upwards as he did. His momentum knocked the policeman off balance, sending them both crumpling to the floor. As they hit the ground, he rolled off the constable’s chest before continuing to run, not losing a single stride through the attack. Alex dodged the fallen policeman, his colleague coming to his aid as blood poured uncontrollably from the wound.
The man was impossibly fast, but that didn’t help him move through the swarm of people that filled the area. He waded through, shouting at people to get out of the way, but they were slow to budge, allowing Alex to gain some much needed ground. She was nearly on him, when he dived left and down a line of smaller stalls, escaping the main flow of people. Alex looked around, the constables had not kept pace with her, she was on her own. She withdrew her extendable baton from her belt and flicking it, opened it fully.
The side street was a dead end, he had no way to go. He reached the last stall, but instead of stopping, turned and ran into it. Alex followed him into the shop and, not slowing, collided directly with a set of thick curtains. Trapped in them for a second and her momentum carrying her on, Alex moved further into the shop. It was
deeper than she had imagined and, when she finally managed to rip away the cloth that entangled her, she found herself in a narrow brick tunnel. The assailant hadn’t lost her, yet.
The tunnel opened onto another street, which Alex presumed must be another line of stalls within Camden Market, except something was wrong about it. The street was too large, the people around her not the tourists from before. They all stopped what they were doing as Alex burst onto the road, the killer coming to a halt as he realised she was still with him.
“Well, this is unexpected. I guess a welcome is in order, but first, why the chase blondie?” the man said.
“I arrest you for the-”
“Oh shut it, you ain’t arresting nobody. If you think you can, come and have a try,” the man said.
Alex moved toward him, reaching to strike him with her baton, but he simply sidestepped her and brought his arm down on her wrist. Stumbling backwards, Alex dropped the baton and tried to stabilise herself, desperately trying to think of her next move.
“Why the chase?” the man said again.
“For the murder at Greys Inn and the-”
“You haven’t a clue what you are mixed up in.”
“Do you not admit to-”
“No, I don’t-”
“If you know what is good for you, you will not resist.”
“Come back to my chambers and I’ll show you just how little I’ll resist. Pretty girl like you, what’s your rate?” the man said.
Alex charged at him, but he moved too quickly, stepping to one side before pressing the blade to her neck.
“Don’t move blondie.”
The street erupted into shouts and cries, the once busy area emptying rapidly as people scurried about. Alex went to shout for help, but the suspect pressed the blade deeper against her neck, the tip of it drawing blood.
At the end of the street, standing with a gun by her side, was the cause of the commotion. Alice wore a long black coat, a flash of red lining brushing against the top of knee high boots.
“You stay back or I’ll cut her,” the man said.
“Come now Silas, what do you take me for? Kill her, I don’t care. As she slumps in your arm I will shoot you straight between the eyes,” Alice said.
“Alice, what are you doing here?” Alex said.
“You know this bloody woman?” Silas said, looking to Alex.
“Alex, please calm down. Silas, let her go and I will allow you to leave unharmed,” Alice said.
“Why would I trust an Ink?” the man said.
“On my faith, as a Catholic, I promise you,” Alice said.
The man paused for a second, thinking it through, before lowering the knife from Alex’s throat.
“You can’t let him escape, he just stabbed a policeman and I have evidence that suggests he is the serial killer we have been hunting,” Alex said.
Silas took a few steps away from her, raising his arms in mock surrender as he turned to walk away.
“It’s all right Alex, I’m not really a Catholic,” Alice said.
Alice fired several shots at Silas, the bullets moving with a strange blue trail that made them look like bolts of fire. Silas twisted and flipped, somehow avoiding every shot and finding a way, in a blink, to charge at Alice. Alice dodged the blade as Silas swung the weapon in arcs towards her, the pair engaging in a flash of slashes and strikes, but both were too fast for the other. Finally landing a punch across Alice’s face, which only momentarily stunned her, Silas took his momentary advantage. Jumping with impossible ease onto a second floor gantry, he was lost from sight.
“Damn,” Alice said, looking towards Alex.
“Alice, what are you doing? Do you work for the police?” Alex said.
“No, I do not work for the police.”
Alice moved closer to her.
“You have stumbled into something you aren’t supposed to understand,” Alice said.
“What are you talking about? I’ve found the killer, I saw CCTV and the killer moved just like him.”
Alice raised her gun towards Alex.
“Sorry Detective, it is for the best.”
Alice fired two shots, which struck Alex across the chest. She felt the burn as they hit, a warmth spreading outwards as the momentum knocked her to the floor. Her world became one of darkness, a heavy drowsiness, sleep overtaking her. What had she done, what had she achieved? A mistake, too many to count and now this was how it ended, without reason. Everything went silent.
- Chapter 40 -
Béarnaise & Bogey-men
There was a rapping at the door, the brass knocker repeatedly slammed into its ancient support causing the entire frame to shake.
“Would you get that please, Ruth?” Meyer said.
Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs and, assuming that it was her, Meyer carried on attending to his sauce. The Béarnaise was about ready, the tang of the white wine filling Meyer’s nostrils as he took pleasure in his accomplishment. Meyer didn’t often cook, but when he did decide to, he liked to ensure it was impressive and his version of Béarnaise was certainly that.
The general sounds of pleasantries were all Meyer could make out, until Ruth walked into the kitchen followed by young Henry.
“Good evening, Master Henry. What can we do for you?” Meyer said.
“Where to begin? Gabriel is helping me move out of my flat, he says it's no longer safe for me there?” Henry said.
“That is my doing. The house has a hundred wards carved into its walls, magus protection to stop people attacking or even finding you there. You should be somewhere safe.”
“Because of the fifth blood?”
“Oh Henry... what a mess this all is. Eat with us, I will explain everything as I see it. I think I have all the pieces now, apart from the definite identity of Grendal. Go, set another place at the table.”
Meyer returned to the kitchen and plated three dishes, Ruth helping him bring them through to the dining room. He poured wine, a very nice bottle of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, and tucked in.
“Boy, please eat. When we have finished, I will tell you everything, but it is a shame to let such great cooking go to waste.”
They ate in total silence, even Ruth did not utter a word. It was the longest he had ever known her to be silent, but the events at Sabrina's lair had left them both anxious. Meyer finished and, laying his knife and fork to rest on the plate, he began.
“First, let me tell you about the fifth blood. You know about the hybrid types, well these came about because of experimentation with the blood from individuals with all five types of alternate power. When the experiment failed with the third orders, all known fifth order alternates were put to death, nobody wanting a reminder of what had happened or the potential for more experiments. It appears that a single sample of the fifth blood remained in existence and I imagine that your father found it with the aim of stopping it falling into the wrong hands. It might explain why he told me to wipe your memories of him, he wouldn't have wanted you to be in the danger he was. I am betting Wade is aware you hold this knowledge, as he has been searching for the Inquisitor family that knows the location for years. I believe he hired Grendal to hunt down and interrogate Inks he suspected knew where the fifth blood was and your father was the last victim.”
“That is why Mark killed himself,” Henry said. “He realised he would be captured and didn't want the information to get out. So Wade is behind this? You have proof?”
“Some, but not enough. If you capture Grendal, we can prove Wade's guilt. I doubt he has any loyalties to him,” Meyer said.
Meyer had to admit that was easier said than done, but it was their only option.
“So who do you suspect to be Grendal? And who took my father’s body?” Henry said.
“I am still confirming that, but we know that Sabrina's brother took Mark's body from the morgue. He may be Grendal, I am really not sure.”
“What's our next move?”
“You hunt down Grenda
l, go to Sabrina and find Silas, he will know who Grendal is. There is a chance Silas is Grendal, so we should be prepared for that eventuality,” Meyer said.
“It's not safe,” Ruth said, surprised at Meyer's words.
“Who can we trust?” Henry said.
“Tristan, Jonny, Gabriel of course, and Superintendent Stroud - he has helped us in the past,” Meyer said.
“You can't let him,” Ruth said.
“We have no other choice. The more help the better, Grendal won't be easy to catch and Henry will make sure Tristan doesn't kill him. I have organised a meeting at your house, together you can work out what is the best plan of attack. There isn't long before Wade makes his next move, or one of the other third-orders. They all want that blood,” Meyer said.
Meyer led Henry to the front door and shook the boy's hand. He would need luck on his side for this to work and, although Meyer knew it was wrong to push this on him, what choice did he have? Meyer closed the door.
“You shouldn't have done that,” Ruth said.
“I had no choice, we need to stop Wade.”
“You will do anything to take him down but it is not right to have put the boy in danger to feed your hatred. Wade has done unspeakable things, but Henry should be kept out of it, the others can cope.”
“Henry will make sure they don't kill him, I can't trust Tristan to do that.”
“You have gone too far this time.”
Meyer pushed past Ruth and headed to the library, taking his old leather chair by the fire. Ruth followed him in, standing with her hands on her hips, blocking the firelight.
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