Beautiful Death

by Fiona McIntosh

  He placed the empty Scotch glass on the table in front of him and gave himself five more minutes. After a commercial for teeth-whitening toothpaste, Stoney returned. This time she was in black jeans tucked into flat boots that came halfway up her calf. Her very slim legs looked great in the ‘spray-painted’ trousers and a tan leather jacket was pulled over a fur-trimmed cardigan that she’d undone just far enough for viewers to be able to peep at the perfect cleft between her breasts.

  ‘Welcome back, everyone. Remember Jenny? She’s a single mum with four kids, she works shifts, she needs a holiday and more time to take care of herself.’ A particularly unflattering photo of Jenny appeared onscreen as Samantha Stone spoke. ‘We met Jenny fourteen weeks ago when she looked like this.’ The screen flashed back to the day Jenny had been recruited in the supercentre at Bluewater, although cynical viewers would conclude she’d met up with Stoney and her team a lot earlier.

  ‘Well, folks, meet Jenny now!’ Stoney made a big ‘ta-da’ gesture with her hands. The view shifted from Stoney’s taut body to a svelte Jenny, resplendent in a floaty long black skirt with heeled boots, and a pale lilac knit top.

  The man began clapping, counting off all the procedures he imagined Jenny had undergone to achieve this look. Stoney obliged by echoing them, excitedly explaining everything from laser-brasion to the porcelain veneers used to achieve Jenny’s new, overly bright, all too even smile. Her formerly dull hair had been coloured, cut and blow-dried professionally into a shorter, straighter style that on its own took years off her.

  He watched Stoney drag a much leaner Jenny about the shopping centre, subjecting her to the same humiliating question and answer session — but this time with positive results.

  ‘Thirty-nine, Jenny. Thirty-nine!’ Stoney shrieked into the camera. ‘That’s what the average of one hundred answers put your age at. How do you feel?’

  After Jenny had stopped screaming and caught her breath, she replied. ‘Ecstatic. This is unbelievable. It’s a whole new lease on life for me.’

  The story became even more sugary when the audience was told that Jenny’s estranged husband had returned to the family home and Jenny’s bed, after more than a year apart.

  ‘I’m not telling porkies, am I, Jen?’

  ‘No, no, you’re not,’ she admitted, blushing. ‘David and I are back together. We’re going to give it another go.’

  ‘What did he say?’

  She beamed. ‘He said it was like being with a different woman. And the thing is, Stoney, I am different. Not just how I look, but I feel different.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘I’m more confident, I’ve got more energy, I love going out, love getting dressed, love going shopping,’ she said, looking around her. ‘I’ve changed jobs. I’m not doing shifts any more; I’ve got more time for the kids and to be a good wife.’

  Stoney looked deep into the camera and her eyes were misty. He scoffed at her mock sincerity.

  ‘That’s a beautiful ending to our tale. Now let’s meet the team who created our storybook princess. Just outside Hertford, in a sleepy hamlet, is a wellbeing clinic called Elysium. And . . .’

  He saw the back security light switch on before he heard a knock at the door and the sound of a car driving off. Damn. He’d wanted to watch the clinic featured, even though he’d seen it many times previously. He sighed, hit the button on the remote and switched off the plasma.

  He let the girls in. They each kissed him briefly.

  ‘Frosty vodka in the fridge, other delights upstairs. Get hammered!’ They squealed their delight, pulling off coats and hats, gloves and scarves in the kitchen. A dark, wide-eyed boy followed them in. He looked no more than fourteen. The man didn’t care how old he was, although Claudia assured him he was old enough.

  ‘Hello again.’

  The boy nodded, but said nothing as he stood awkwardly at the kitchen bench watching the women grab glasses and pour neat, 100 per cent proof vodka brought from St Petersburg, into glasses.

  ‘Want one?’ the man asked. The boy shook his head. ‘Okay, how about a Coke?’

  This time the boy nodded. The man turned and winked at Claudia. She knew how to cover the taste of the alcohol with the sugary cola.

  ‘Come with me,’ the man said as he left the girls to enjoy their drinks. ‘Do you like Xbox?’

  The boy’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Okay, knock yourself out. I like Halo. Lots of killing, but you can please yourself. There’s a bottle of Coke. Enjoy it while the girls and I enjoy each other. And later, if you want, I can show you some other games.’ The innuendo was lost on the youngster as he immediately began firing up the games console, barely listening to his host.

  It didn’t matter. In an hour the boy would be fully compliant and he could have his fun. Until then, the girls would occupy themselves fulfilling his needs over and over again.

  8.

  Jack rang Kate first, then Cam. He had the same message for both of them. Be at Barista’s in half an hour.

  Kate arrived first, Brodie moments later. She fetched lattes, despite knowing she certainly didn’t want hers. It was just something to do with her hands while they waited.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Brodie said, frowning as she set down the coffees. He took three sachets of sugar and emptied them into his cup as she absently stirred hers, even though it was sugarless.

  ‘I don’t know it all and I should let him explain but it seems he knows the victim whose p-m we attended this morning,’ she replied, staring into the coffee.

  Brodie’s eyes widened. ‘Get out! What happened?’

  ‘One minute fine; worried about me, in fact, and how I’d cope, and the next white as a sheet, excusing himself, unable to even talk.’

  ‘Fuck, I hate those things,’ Brodie admitted, blowing on his coffee. ‘Had they begun cutting?’

  ‘Just about to. But Cam, she didn’t have a face. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen, I have to be honest — and imagine you knew someone and suddenly you see them in that state. Shit!’

  He sipped, his gaze narrowing. ‘You seem fine.’

  ‘What? Well I was until . . . oh, hello, sir,’ she said, realising Jack was striding towards them.

  Cam stood. ‘What can I get you?’

  Jack shook his head. ‘Nothing, thanks. I’ve er, just had one.’ He was chewing gum.

  Kate noticed he was still distracted; his eyes had a haunted quality to them. Had he been crying? ‘What’s going on, sir?’ Kate asked gently. And then, as if someone had thrown a switch in her mind, the notion struck her and she blurted it out, her forehead creasing as she said it. ‘Oh no, Jack, you didn’t just know her, did you?’ Her voice dropped to little more than a whisper, her hands instinctively, helplessly, reaching to cover her mouth. ‘Were you seeing her?’

  He looked down, away from her imploring gaze, his jaw clenching.

  Cam sat back, astonished, as though he didn’t need his boss to answer to know that Kate had hit upon the truth.

  ‘Not again,’ Kate murmured, hating that she’d spoken what she’d intended to be a private thought.

  ‘I . . . I was seeing her,’ Jack began haltingly. ‘She’s a florist. Her name is Lily Wu and her family owns a shop in Chinatown. I’ve known her since . . . well it doesn’t matter. We’d been seeing each other for just a short while but quietly because her parents were keen for Lily to marry and there was someone in the picture they approved of. Lily didn’t, however. She and I . . .’ He stopped talking, and to Kate seemed utterly lost.

  Cam blew out his cheeks silently, while Kate sat back unsure of what to say, her astonishment and sympathy tinged with a familiar jealousy. She banished it to the back of her mind; she could pick at that old sore another time. ‘I . . . I’m so sorry, sir. How? Why?’

  He licked his lips as he thought, as though taking time to formulate his theory. His brow creased as he spoke. ‘Lily was doing deliveries at the Royal London. It was a regular ru
n for her but I know the shop was very busy these last couple of days. It’s why I hadn’t seen her and wasn’t worried at first. It was only this morning I began to wonder at the silence. They found her body in the back of her delivery van just a stone’s throw from RLH. Why?’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ he went on so sadly that Kate felt her throat constrict. ‘Bad luck?’ he suggested. ‘Bad timing probably,’ he added, his voice shaking. ‘Because she doesn’t fit the profile of the other victims.’ Then he seemed to rally, swallowing, sitting upright again. ‘I wanted to tell you both first. I’ll tell the whole crew shortly.’

  ‘You’re not going to continue on the case, are you?’ Cam asked the question tentatively, but Kate could have answered for her boss. Determination was etched in those lines either side of his mouth that seemed to deepen at Cam’s question. Of course Jack was going to handle the case, she thought.

  ‘This is why I’m telling you both first. I’ve just been to see DPS. Ghost Squad needed to know and I didn’t want this to leak out or reach them via the grapevine. I’ve explained everything to DCI Benson and although, like you, he feels it’s wiser to hand over the case to someone else, he’s made it clear that so long as I can perform, and the nature of the case doesn’t send me on some sort of revenge binge that might persuade me to act outside the law, then he’s satisfied that I can continue.’

  ‘Jack,’ Kate began, ignoring protocol. ‘This isn’t a good position to put yourself in. You’re hurting, anyone can see that and you could turn towards revenge, despite your best intentions.’

  He fixed her with a cool stare now. ‘I almost witnessed someone hacking into the body of my dead girlfriend, who I was kissing only a couple of days before.’ Kate flinched, but he wasn’t finished. ‘And I couldn’t even see those lips I loved to kiss because some madman had cut off her face. I think I’m allowed to hurt, Kate, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do my job. Frankly, I feel it gives me a special impetus to catch this fucking bastard and nail his balls to —’

  ‘Easy, chief,’ Cam said, glancing at Kate.

  She let out the breath she was holding. ‘The postmortem results are being sent over this afternoon, sir. I’ll see you back in the ops room.’ She pushed back her chair and stood. She left, unsure of what else she could do with her heart hammering this hard; anger mixing with an emotion she wasn’t in control of. There were moments when she hated Jack Hawksworth. Hated his tenderness and vulnerability; despised his ruthlessness and single-mindedness. He was an enigma and while that made him all the more intriguing, it was this quality that could frustrate her almost to tears. And that’s what she hated most — that he could make her feel so insecure. The cold hit her like a slap and she wrapped her scarf around her mouth, digging her hands deep into her coat pockets as she waited to cross the road. She had come to this case so composed, so ready to be impervious to whatever it was that Jack seemed able to do to her by just looking at her. ‘Fuck him!’ she murmured beneath her scarf.

  Jack’s revelation was met with stunned silence in the ops room. A dozen people could have heard a pin drop when he finished speaking. ‘Right.’ He tried to wrap things up. ‘It’s important that I shared this with you but you need to know that outside this room I’m sitting on this information for a bit longer. If I tell Superintendent Sharpe I’ll be ripped off the case and I want a chance to find our killer, now that I’ve begun. If Sharpe discovers this information through any mouth but my own, I can’t imagine how badly he’ll react. I’m asking whether all of you are capable of not discussing this outside of these walls for a few days. Does anyone have a problem with that?’ He looked around, but did not glance Kate’s way. Everyone gave their embarrassed, mostly shocked, assent. ‘Good. So now we proceed and there will be no need for any of us to mention this again. I trust you all understand that and will respect my privacy and not gossip about this between yourselves, either. We’re a team; we look after one another.’ Everyone nodded, a few murmured their assurances.

  Jack stood. ‘I’m very grateful to all of you for this support. Fix yourselves a cuppa, take a leak, whatever. In five minutes everyone back here ready to debrief on today’s work.’ People began to move. ‘Kate, can I see you in the office?’

  She detoured to her desk to pick up a notebook, and tried to gather her thoughts before tapping at his open door. ‘Sir?’

  ‘Come in, close the door would you? Have a seat, Kate.’

  She gave him a firm, steady gaze.

  ‘Are we going to be okay working together on this case?’

  ‘Absolutely, sir.’

  His eyes narrowed as he regarded her. ‘I have your full support?’

  ‘I was simply concerned that it would be too painful for you,’ she explained.

  ‘I understand. I’m concerned that your feelings —’

  ‘Don’t be,’ she interrupted. ‘I would have given Cam the same advice, sir . . . just as your friend DCI Benson did. My reaction is not abnormal. It is the reaction of any sane person, especially towards someone she knows and likes. The fact that you can continue to work on this case objectively is testimony to your courage and professionalism.’ She could see from the flare of understanding in his expression that her anodyne words did not completely hide the sarcasm she was levelling at him. Good! ‘I admire you, sir, and I’m going to help you catch the killer of someone you cared for. You have nothing to be concerned about.’

  She could see he hadn’t been ready for her to go on the attack. This felt right. She was not going to let her treacherous heart betray her. From now on, she was in control. ‘Is that all, sir?’ He nodded. ‘I’ll go join the others,’ she said, turning to open the door.

  ‘Kate?’

  She wished he hadn’t. In his voice now was the tenderness she was frightened of. ‘Yes?’ she said, steeling herself as she faced the hurt grey eyes again.

  ‘I’m sorry about earlier.’

  Kate shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. ‘It’s all right, I can’t imagine how it feels to deal with what you’re going through.’

  ‘It’s as though it’s happening all over again.’

  ‘It’s not, sir. And we’re going to find this murderer quickly.’

  ‘We have to. What I didn’t tell everyone just now is that DCI Benson, although very trusting, is giving me only ten days tops before he goes public with his report to his department.’

  She hadn’t expected that, and felt new respect for Jack’s bear-like friend. Part of her fury had been that the boys’ club was sticking together, but this certainly changed things.

  ‘So he’s really not happy.’

  ‘Professionally, he’s satisfied with my explanation. Personally, friend-to-friend, he feels like you do. And that’s why he’s put parameters in place. They protect him, but I know Geoff too well; the deadline is for my benefit.’

  ‘I wish I had a friend like that.’

  He nodded. ‘Geoff’s the best bloke I know.’

  ‘Ten days,’ she repeated nervously.

  ‘We need to get stuck into this and work smart. I need your help and for us to be working closely and as a team, not at loggerheads.’

  ‘We’re not at loggerheads,’ she assured him . . . and meant it.

  ‘I’m glad. Right, let’s debrief, shall we?’

  ‘Can I just say something?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘If it gets too much . . .’ She shrugged. ‘I’m not sure what I’m trying to say here, sir, and we don’t know what’s ahead with this ghoulish case, but if your rage starts to emerge, tell me. I promise you I’ll help.’

  He gave her a sad smile. ‘By having a chat to Malcolm Sharpe?’

  She felt disappointment spike through her. But she probably deserved that after their last case together. ‘No. I give you my word I will not talk to him about this, unless he approaches me, of course. But you need to tell me if things begin to spin out of control for you. I’m your second here — we both know that — so I need to know what’s happening in here .
. .’ she pointed to her head but meant his, ‘. . . if we’re going to work as an effective team.’

  ‘I promise,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you.’ She took a deep breath. She should tell him now. This was the right moment while they were alone and sharing truths. ‘Er, sir, about the postmortem —’

  ‘I’m okay, Kate, I promise. We don’t need to do this.’

  ‘No, I mean, it’s about you and Lily. The thing is —’

  He held up a hand as he stood, effectively cutting off anything further she wanted to say.

  ‘I mean, I don’t want to do this,’ he said pointedly but not unkindly. ‘Save the details of the p-m for the team. They need to know it too.’

  He’d already opened the door for her; was waiting for her to leave. Kate felt tired of defying him; it seemed almost every action she took, or piece of advice she gave, was a challenge to his authority and that was the last thing she wanted as they set out on this already confronting case. He’d just obliquely counselled her on being at loggerheads with him and, unless she wanted to openly ignore his advice or his hand guiding her out of the door, then she was better off leaving quietly. He would regret dismissing her like this, but she had no choice now. She nodded and stepped out of his office without saying another word, hating herself for not having the courage to risk the affront.

  Back with the group, Jack began to outline everything the police knew, taking the ops team through each of the victims.

  ‘Now this is why the Lily Wu murder is wrong. We have three previous faceless corpses; each of them we believe was an illegal. We have two males of Asian origin and another from Eastern Europe. They’re all around the same age. Of the four victims, two lost kidneys — Lily and the Eastern European — and all lost faces. Having her face sliced off is the only common denominator Lily has with all four. Otherwise, this is a woman from a strong family; she lived alone, but she was close to her parents and sister. She was born here and has British citizenship. She worked in one of the family businesses — a florist at Chinatown. One of their main runs was for the Royal London. We have to find the connection between Lily and the other victims lightning fast. Before this killer strikes again. There is something somewhere that links them. By the way, the only reason we’re focusing on Lily Wu is that she is the only person we have any history about. We don’t even have names or citizenship details for our other victims, so we have to concentrate on Lily and connecting her to the killer and why, in order to understand why the men also became victims.’