by Tim Ellis
‘Yes, but you don’t have to bring me back here. I will take advantage of the New Year sales in Harrods.’
Harrods! Psychics must get paid a fortune. Maybe he could make a living as a psychic. Were there male psychics? What did they call them? Master? Guru? He liked Guru Quigg.
***
He took Madame Aryana up to forensics. Perkins didn’t seem to be about, but he caught Asquith walking down the corridor.
‘Is Sally Vickers in?’
‘Afraid not, Sir. It is New Year’s Day, you know?’
‘I’m a detective, Asquith - I don’t need you to tell me what day it is.’
‘Sorry, Sir.’
‘Can you get her here?’
‘She’s on call, but…’
‘But what? You can’t ring her unless it’s urgent? Tell her it is urgent, Asquith. And I expect her here within half an hour.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Can I leave you here?’ he asked Aryana.
‘Yes, I’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll come up in half an hour to check that Sally’s here,’ he said to Asquith. ‘And make sure the young lady gets a cup of coffee, will you?’
‘OK, Sir.’
Quigg strolled down to the squad room.
Father Paidraig and Walsh were busy at the white board. Quigg sauntered over and said, ‘Any progress, Father?’
‘Good morning, Sir,’ Walsh said. ‘You look terrible.’
‘If that’s your way of getting in my good books, Walsh, I have to tell you it’s not working.’
‘Inspector, good to see you. Heather is right; you look as though you’ve popped up from hell.’
‘Hell is probably where I was last night, Father.’
Father Paidraig had on another of his T-shirts. This one was yellow, and on the front it said: What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us. On the two whiteboards he had written a long list of biblical quotations, beginning with those he had previously shown Quigg from J14.5. Then, separated by a line, were the quotations associated with each reference, which began with J5.4:
And this is the cause why Joshua did circumcise: All the people that came out of Egypt, that were males, even all the men of war, died in the wilderness by the way, after they came out of Egypt (Joshua 5.4).
LORD, when thou wentest out of Seir, when thou marchedst out of the field of Edom, the earth trembled, and the heavens dropped, the clouds also dropped water (Judges 5.4).
His children are far from safety, and they are crushed in the gate, neither is there any to deliver them (Job 5.4).
Therefore I said, Surely these are poor; they are foolish: for they know not the way of the LORD, nor the judgement of their God (Jeremiah 5.4).
For an angel went down at a certain season into the pool, and troubled the water: whosoever then first after the troubling of the water stepped in was made whole of whatsoever disease he had (John 5.4).
Behold, the hire of the labourers who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth: and the cries of them which have reaped are entered into the ears of the Lord of sabaoth (James 5.4).
(No Joel, Jonah or Jude)
‘As you can see, Inspector, Heather and I have been busy.’
‘Information overload, I would say,’ Quigg said.
‘Exactly,’ Father Paidraig agreed. ‘You’ve seen J14.5 before. J5.4 is similar. None of the quotations are relevant. Job 5.4 does mention children, but even this is meaningless in the current context. Job's children died when a great wind blew down the house where they were eating, and Job5.4 refers to Job’s friend, Eliphaz the Temanite, demonstrating how he connects Job's suffering with what he judges to be his sin.’
‘If none of the quotations are literal, what other purpose could they serve?’
Walsh chirped in. ‘What do you mean, Sir?’
Although he looked like an escaped soul from hell, he felt reasonably good and his mind was clear. ‘The killer has carved a biblical reference on each child,’ he said. ‘If the quotations are not literal, then what other purpose do they serve? For instance, maybe the first word of each quotation makes up a message.’
‘Ah, yes, I see where you’re going with this,’ Father Paidraig said. ‘It will take some time to look at the permutations. I hope they’re in order.’
‘Order?’ Walsh asked.
‘We’re assuming the references carved into the children,’ he crossed himself, ‘follow on one after the other from the first to the last child. Let us hope the killer hasn’t jumbled the references up like an anagram.’
‘Let’s not make things more difficult than they already are, Father,’ Quigg said.
Walsh wiped the quotations off the whiteboards.
‘Put the words, one on top of the other, next to each other like a message,’ Father Paidraig said to Walsh. ‘J14.5 is:
As
Then
Seeing
Yea
Thomas
And next to it put: J5.4:
And
Lord
His
Therefore
For
Behold
Now, we know this is not the beginning of the message because we haven’t got the references from the first five victims.’
‘I think we can cross out ‘Yea’ and ‘Thomas’ from the first set of words, Father,’ Walsh said.
‘Let’s not be premature, lovely Heather,’ Father Paidraig said. ‘Although you may be right, we should look at all the combinations first before we begin crossing any out.’
‘Of course, Father,’ Walsh said. ‘I’m putting the cart before the horse.’
‘Cicero on Friendship: We put the cart before the horse, and shut the stable door when the steed is stolen, in defiance of the old proverb.’
‘You’re a walking library, Father,’ Walsh said.
‘Shall we continue? Time is pressing. R2.9 is:
Let
Tribulation
I’
‘Some are better than others,’ Walsh said.
‘I’ll leave you to it for the moment,’ Quigg interrupted. ‘I have to go back up to forensics.’
‘OK, Sir,’ Walsh called over her shoulder.
‘Z1.18:
Neither
Then’
Father Paidraig continued.
Quigg thought the priest obviously had the bit between the teeth. Maybe he’d give him the rest of today before he pulled the plug. It wasn’t as if there would be anybody intelligent at GCHQ to talk to, and the universities would be completely empty. If he called in a cryptologist, nothing would be produced for at least a couple of days, and he didn’t really have a couple of days. He’d see what Father Paidraig came up with.
He walked up to forensics. Aryana wasn’t where he’d left her. The reception and the corridors were deserted. He opened a few doors and stuck his head in, but there was no human habitation. He strolled along to Perkins’ laboratory. Perkins jumped as Quigg opened the door.
‘Guilty conscience, Perkins?’
‘My mind was elsewhere.’
‘Aboard an alien ship?’
‘Very funny, Quigg. Anyway, you’re early aren’t you?’ He looked at the clock on the wall. ‘It’s only twenty past eleven.’
‘I was checking that Sally Vickers had arrived and was doing a sketch for me.’
‘She’s in. Who’s that woman with her?’
‘Madame Aryana - she’s a psychic who’s flown all the way from Canada. Says she has information on the killings. I’m humouring her.’
‘What’s she doing with Sally?’
‘Describing our killer.’
‘Really?’
‘You’re a man of science, Perkins. Do you believe in this psychic mumbo jumbo?’
‘Well, you obviously don’t, Quigg.’
‘I asked you first.’
‘I didn’t think I’d believe in aliens, but…’
‘Is that a "
yes" then?’
‘I don’t dismiss anything out of hand now, Quigg. The brain is a marvellous organ that we still know very little about. There are large parts of the brain that are not used. If our brains were fully utilised, who knows what we could be capable of?’
‘So, you’re sitting on the fence?’
‘It’s a good place to be.’
‘I’ve found it hurts your arse after awhile, Perkins.’
‘You would say that, Quigg. I can’t imagine you sitting on the fence over anything.’
‘I’ll be back at one.’
‘Humph.’
He went back down to the squad room.
‘Coffee would be good, Walsh.’
‘You’ve got some nerve, Sir.’
‘Thanks, Walsh. So, any enlightenment, Father?’
‘Ah, Inspector - I’ve been looking for enlightenment all my life, and I still haven’t found it. As for a message being formed from the first word of each of the biblical quotations, I’m afraid it is unlikely.’ He stood up and pointed to the whiteboard. ‘For instance, P3.31 can only be Proverbs and the first word is ‘Envy’. Next to it is Lamentations Chapter 3, Verse 66, and the first word is ‘Persecute’. These two words would be unlikely to sit next to each other in a sentence.’
J14:5 - As, Then, Seeing, Yea, Thomas
J5:4 - And, Lord, His, Therefore, For, Behold
R2:9 - Let, Tribulation, I
Z1:18 - Neither, Then
E8:2 - And, Of, And, I, Then
N13:12 - Of, Then
E2:8 - And, The, So, But, For
J3:3 - And, Namely, Let, Therefore, And, So, Jesus, Behold
N3:9 - And, And, Ethiopia
P3:31 - Envy
L3:66 - Persecute
E11:5 - And, As, And
S1:2 - Let
I2:5 - O
J2:6 - But, And, And, Neither, Before, I, And, But
Z6:13 - Even
E3:1 - Now, And, After, To, Moreover, For
‘It might very well be an anagram,’ Walsh said, banging the mug down on the desk and spilling coffee.
Quigg ignored her petulance. ‘You’re a lifesaver, Walsh.’
‘Humph.’
‘If it is an anagram,’ Father Paidraig said, ‘we may as well all go home and enjoy the New Year.’
‘I agree, Father. Let’s work on the basis that it’s a straightforward message.’
‘Although I do not think that a message can be formed from the first words, I am not yet defeated. There is a clue that points us in another direction. The first word of Isaiah 2:5 is ‘O’, which is not really a word, but a letter.’
‘So, you’re suggesting that the message could come from the first letters of the quotations and not the first words?’
‘Yes, Inspector.’
Walsh wrote the first letters of each word underneath the stacks of words on the whiteboard:
(ATSYT)(ALHTFB)(LTI)(NT)(AOAIT)(OT)(ATSBF)
(ANLTASJB)(AAE)(E)(P)(AAA)(L)(O)(BAANBIAB) (E) (NAATMF)
‘I feel vaguely optimistic again,’ Quigg said.
Father Paidraig pursed his lips. ‘We could start crossing out some of the letters now, Heather. It will make things easier.’
Quigg took the marker pen off Walsh and began underlining letters towards the end of the stream. ‘I think I see a word already – ALONE.’
‘You could be right, Sir,’ Walsh said.
(ATSYT)(ALHTFB)(LTI)(NT)(AOAIT)(OT)(ATSBF)
(ANLTASJB)(AAE)(E)(P)(AAA)(L)(O)(BAANBIAB) (E) (NAATMF)
Father Paidraig rubbed his chin and said, ‘When are we likely to obtain the references for the first five victims, Inspector?’
‘I’m not sure, Father. I’ll give the pathologist a ring and see where we are.’
‘If ALONE is a word, Inspector, it leaves one letter at the end, which suggests he hasn’t finished his message yet.’
Quigg didn’t look at the priest, or mention thirteen year old Kylie who Madame Aryana had told him about. ‘I don’t know about you two,’ he said, glancing at the clock on the wall, ‘but I’m ready for lunch. It’s twelve fifteen, should we go to the canteen today?’
‘I’ll carry on working with the message, Inspector,’ Father Paidraig said.
‘I’m not hungry either, Sir.’
‘It’s all right, Walsh - I’ll pay. It’s pay day.’
Walsh smiled. ‘No, it’s not that, Sir. I’m really not hungry.’
‘I’ll be going up to see Perkins after I’ve eaten, then you and I need to sit down and consider our next move. With Ruben Andrews out of the picture, we have no suspects.’
‘OK, Sir.’
Chapter Eight
He strolled down to the canteen. There were a few uniforms there, but it was mostly empty. He went to the counter to look at what was on offer.
‘Hello, Inspector,’ Nancy said. ‘I haven’t seen you for a while.’
Nancy had been behind the counter forever. The canteen had recently been redecorated. Azure blue had replaced magnolia on the walls. Blue and white linoleum squares were stuck on the floor, and blue plastic tables and chairs had replaced the kaleidoscope of furniture there had been before. For some strange reason, new catering staff had replaced all the other staff with the exception of Nancy, who seemed to have survived contractual changes like a resident ghost.
‘I’ve been busy.’
‘Good work setting those children free.’
‘Thanks. Does that entitle me to a free meal?’
‘Yes… in the homeless shelter, but not here.’
‘Oh. What would you recommend?’
‘The turkey roast.’
‘I’ll probably be having turkey later, so I’d better not have it now. What else is there?’
‘Cottage pie with red cabbage?’
‘That will do.’
Nancy put two piles on a plate and passed it to him over the counter. He helped himself to a giant chocolate muffin.’
‘Coffee?’
‘Please.’
She poured him a mug of coffee. ‘That’ll be five founds fifty please, Inspector.’
He extracted the wallet from his back pocket, pulled out his visa card and jammed it into the machine.
‘Pin number?’
He input his number.
‘You’re done. Happy New Year, Inspector.’
‘Happy New Year, Nancy.’
He took his tray and sat down at a table away from a group of uniforms telling dirty jokes. There was a female officer sitting with them, but she was expected to be one of the boys. Policing, especially in Hammersmith, was predominantly a male occupation with a macho culture.
Well, it looked like Father Paidraig might soon solve the message, he thought - especially if Jim came up with the missing five references. He shovelled a mix of cottage pie and red cabbage into his mouth. It wasn’t a message addressed to the police, or for that matter, anyone else. It was a personal message; otherwise the killer would have wanted the bodies found. After hiding them for sixty years, it was obvious his motive was personal. Where to now, though? He had to see Perkins in half an hour, but unless the killer had got sloppy over the years, he was unlikely to find anything. As much as Quigg pushed him, if there was nothing to find, then that was it. And even if he did find a hair or a fibre, with nothing to compare it against it wasn’t going to help. He had to go back to the beginning, that was where the answers lay. He needed to know whether the body in Rose Andrews’ coffin was her or another body that had been put there in her place. Scooping the last of the cottage pie and red cabbage mix into his mouth, he pulled out his phone and dialled Jim’s number.
Dewsbury?
‘Jim, I’m glad you’re awake.’
Hello, Quigg. Did you get the fax?
‘Fax? What fax?’
I sent it this morning.
‘A phone call would have been useful, Jim.’
Don’t people keep an eye on your fax?
‘Not during the holidays. It’s like a
ghost town here.’
Sorry, Quigg. I should have thought.
‘What have you sent me?’
I’ve completed post-mortems on eleven of the bodies. Cause of death is unusually consistent. I might have expected variations, but chloroform to render the victim unconscious and teterodotoxin to kill them seems to be his preferred modus operandi.
‘What about the body in Rose Andrews’ coffin?’
Owen says that the cemetery is a really creepy place.
Quigg remembered seeing Owen Bowen, the skeletal mortuary assistant, working with Debbie Poulson. ‘You sent Owen?’
I can’t do everything myself, Quigg. Owen transported the bodies back to the lab; we took skin samples and after analysis compared the DNA profiles. You were right; the child in Rose Andrews’ coffin is not related to the other two children, or the adults.
‘So that’s twenty-four bodies we’ve got now?’
Yes, but only twenty-three murders. And something else, Quigg: when I examined the two Andrews’ sisters, like Rose, I found that they had both been sexually abused.
‘That’s consistent with what Ruben told us, Jim. Did you manage to find anything carved into the earlier bodies?’
Those were part of what I sent you.
‘Good - anything else?’
No, that’s it for now. Next time, I’ll just ring you.
‘Appreciate it. Happy New Year, Jim.’
And to you, Quigg.
He disconnected the call. That was a good idea by Walsh, and he’d have to tell her that. So, everything revolved around Rose Andrews. His next port of call had to be the Andrews’ solicitors, Pequod, Bone & Turnkey. Ruben had given them two names: the butler, Mr Putney, and the cook, Mrs McLeish. He’d have to get Walsh to see what she could find on the database.
He peeled the paper from his chocolate muffin and took a bite. That was the trouble with getting a mug of coffee with your meal, by the time you wanted to drink it, it was like bloody iced coffee.
‘Just because you’ve got nothing better to do on New Year’s Day, it doesn’t mean you have to ruin everybody else’s holiday.’