The Terror at Grisly Park (Quigg 5)
Page 16
She leaned forward. ‘What about when the clown comes in? There’s enough of us to overpower him.’
‘He opens the door, slides in the food and water and then closes the door.’
‘You’re not being very helpful,’ she said.
Tams shrugged. ‘I wish I could tell you what you wanted to hear.’
‘How long have you all been here?’
‘What day is it today?’ Tams asked.
‘I suppose it could still be Wednesday. How long was I unconscious for?’
‘A long time.’
‘Then it’s probably Thursday.’
‘We’ve been here about ten days then.’
Her eyes opened wide. ‘Ten fucking days?’
One of the women – Joy Chart – burst into tears.
‘I don’t understand why you’re crying,’ Kline said. ‘If the end of the world is here, you should be jumping up and down with joy.’
Nobody said anything.
‘Do I have to explain that one? Jumping up and down .. .’
‘I think we got it,’ Tams said. ‘We’re not really in the mood for jokes.’
She could understand that. Ten days! God, they must be bored to death. She had to get out of here, but how? Whoever this clown character was, he seemed to know what he was doing. Was he the murderer they were looking for? What was Quigg doing now? Had he organised a massive manhunt for her? She doubted it. He had no idea what had happened to her, or where she was. The Chief wouldn’t sanction the expenditure without a clear plan of attack. She was on her own again.
‘Bra’s!’
They all turned to look at her.
She grinned. ‘Get your tits out ladies.’
***
Once outside, Quigg located his phone. But before he could contact Coveney it began playing his Crazy Frog ringtone and made him jump.
‘I hate that crazy frog,’ Tolliver said.
‘You don’t know a good annoying tune when you hear one.’ He accepted the call. ‘Yes?’
‘Where are you, Sir?’
‘You asked me that last time, Perkins. Does it really matter where I am?’
‘I suppose not. I’m in Room 13. We’ve found something.’
‘Define “something”?’
‘It would be better if you see for yourself.’
‘With the roads the way they are, the vehicle I’m travelling in, the driver I’ve got, and a pit-stop for lunch, it’ll probably take me at least two hours to get to you.’
‘Oh my God. I’ve got to go. I suggest you get here sooner than that.’
The call ended.
He sighed.
‘What do you mean, the driver you’ve got. I’m a brilliant driver.’
‘I’m sure you would be on the dodgems.’
‘You could always lodge a complaint with the ombudsman.’
‘It’s going to be like that, is it?’
‘Climb in the car and stop whinging. You remind me of my horrid ten year old nephew.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘Don’t be.’
He found Coveney’s number in his phonebook.
‘Hello?’
‘Coveney, I have work for you.’
‘And the Chippendales will be arriving soon to entertain us.’
‘They wanted me to join them, you know.’
‘If you weren’t an Inspector and I wasn’t a lady I might have said something out of turn.’
‘Shall we move on?’
‘Probably wise, Sir.’
‘Okay, I’d like you to get the Waterbury Daily Occurrence Books for the ten years prior to the asylum closing, and the 1973 Cora Jiggins’ notes from Bethlam Hospital and Museum in Beckenham, Kent. Also, you said you found nothing on the current Cora Jiggins, but you should have turned up something on the 1973 Jiggins because she was taken into custody and charged. There was evidence, a psychiatric evaluation by a Dr Jane Byrne and a committal order . . .’
‘I found nothing like that, but I can do another search if you want me to, Sir?’
‘Yes, please. I’m on my way back now, so you’d better get those damned Chippendales out of my command centre before I get there.’
‘I’ll try, but the other two ladies aren’t going to be happy.’
The call ended.
‘Come on then,’ he said to Tolliver. ‘Let’s get going.’
‘I’ve been waiting for you to finish your call.’
‘You could have switched the engine on, warmed it up, opened the windows, put the car into gear and a host of other things while you were waiting.’
‘I’m not surprised your partner deserted you, but I am surprised she didn’t strangle you before she left.’
***
It had taken them an hour to get back to Grisly Park. He’d left Tolliver in the command centre with instructions for Coveney to keep a close eye on her. Tolliver had wanted to come with him, but he’d said she couldn’t.
‘Do you know anything about forensic procedures?’ he asked her.
‘Well . . .’
‘It’s a simple question. “Yes” or “No”?’
‘Maybe.’
‘I’ll take that as a “No”. In which case, you can’t come with me. It’s a crime scene. If you contaminated the crime scene I could lose my job. You wait here. I’ll let you know what it’s all about when I get back.’
‘I didn’t mean it about you being strangled, you know.’
‘Yes you did, but I’ll tell you anyway.’
He liked Tolliver. Not just underneath her clothes, but because she said what she meant. She was straightforward, uncomplicated and for the short time he’d known her – not moody.
He’d given Coveney the asylum photographs. ‘I want a blow-up of every inmate and member of staff, and cross-reference the photographs against the two lists.’
‘You’ve come into the wrong truck. Forensics is the next truck along.’
‘It’s no good having a dog and barking myself.’
‘You really know how to flatter a girl.’
‘I try my best.’
‘I’ve got bad news for you, Sir. Your best is on a par with diarrhoea.’
‘Lovely.’
He liked Coveney and the other women as well. Inspector Wright had provided him with two good teams. He just wished the Chief would let him have an armed support team or two from CO19.
As he walked into Room 13 he said to Perkins, ‘This had better be worth it.’
‘I’m happy to say that we’ve been able to recover the DNA samples.’
‘All of them?’
‘Including the unknown biological material.’
‘And you’re not going to lose them this time, are you?’
‘There are two or more people on each shift now. We’ve put nothing on the database, and I’ve brought Anna Lambert to interrogate the server. I can tell you that none of my people would have destroyed the evidence, so it must be someone else who had password access to our forensic database, and that amounts to six people above me . . .’
He held up a hand to interrupt. ‘Now, excuse me for being cynical, but you’re pointing the finger at one of your bosses?’
‘I know it sounds far-fetched, but it can’t be anyone else.’
‘What about the partial fingerprint you found in your truck?’
‘Sergeant Lee Chadwick, ex-Special Air Service.’
‘Never heard of him.’
‘That’s because he died in Iraq in 2003.’
Quigg didn’t respond. They both knew that when dead people – especially ex-SAS – re-appeared it was more than likely because they’d been recruited by the secret service – MI5, MI6, or SO15 – and ceased to exist.
‘I know what you’re thinking.’
‘Do you?’
‘You’re thinking I should book myself into the asylum for an extended stay.’
‘Am I?’
‘I’ve gone over it in my mind. It can’t be anyone in SO15 because I don
’t see Scotland Yard’s Counter Terrorist unit getting involved in this case. So, it’s either MI5 or MI6.’
‘Have you heard yourself? You sound like a conspiracy nut.’
‘You know my views on the government withholding information about aliens, Sir.’
‘Look Perkins, how in hell would your bosses at QED know people in the security services?’
‘You’re asking the wrong question. Before, when we were the Forensic Science Service, the heads of the security services simply walked along the road, told the civil servants what they wanted, and that was the end of it. Now, there are some individuals who work for a private company in the way.’
‘Who get paid a lot of money for not doing a lot, or so everyone says.’
‘And who are getting a lot more money working for the security services, or being blackmailed into doing certain things such as delete DNA records.’
‘Let’s say you’re right. Why?’
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. ‘Some of that DNA belongs to someone – or something – we’re not meant to find out about.’
‘Something? We’re back where we started, aren’t we?’
‘Talking of vampires, where’s DC Kline?’
‘Missing in action, but don’t wander away from the subject.’
‘You’ve lost another partner?’
‘Let’s not go there, Perkins. My partner had free will, the DNA you lost didn’t.’
‘So, we’re going to look more closely at the biological material we haven’t been able to identify and see if we can’t find an answer.’
Quigg pulled a face. ‘You still have a problem.’
‘Oh?’
‘Well, if what you’re saying is right, one of your bosses has deleted our evidence from the database for either MI5 or MI6. I may be sticking my neck out here, but that’s a serious problem.’
‘They’re all female, you know – Linda McNeil, Susan Braithwaite and Abby Hand.’
‘So much for the glass ceiling.’
‘But that’s where you come in.’
‘Me? Don’t get me involved in your conspiracies.’
‘You are involved, Sir. This is your case, and some non-existent people were given information by my people to destroy evidence for some other people we’re not meant to know anything about.’
‘But we’ve outwitted them. We’ve got our evidence back.’
‘For how long? If they find out we’ve got it back . . .’ Perkins shrugged. ‘They know that we know now.’
‘We don’t know anything.’
‘They don’t know that. They’ll eliminate us just to be on the safe side. A tragic accident.’
He knew Perkins was right. He’d come up against corrupt people in power before. ‘How do I come in?’
‘You could speak to the Chief.’
He made a raspberry sound. ‘And say what? The Chief will be glad to see the back of me.’
‘Someone else needs to know what we know. The Chief can speak to the Commissioner, who can speak to people close to the Prime Minister, who will get the word passed back down to the people responsible . . .’
‘Who will then dispose of all the evidence – including us.’
‘Isn’t it a better plan than sticking your head in the sand?’
He peered at Perkins. ‘I’ll speak to the Chief, but don’t blame me when you end up as an uninvited guest at your own funeral.’
‘I think they’ll back off.’
‘You have a rose-tinted view of the world, Perkins. So, what about the DNA from that stain on the floor, did you . . . ?’
‘It’s a match.’
‘For what?’
‘One of the DNA samples we found in this room.’
Quigg’s brow furrowed. ‘That’s not possible. The stain was created in 1903. The DNA in the room is from 2013. Unless . . . the sample you took has been contaminated . . .’
‘We’ve run a number of tests and ruled out cross-contamination. The two samples are from different time periods.’
‘I’ll let you into a little secret, Perkins, I have no idea what the hell’s going on here. And you’re not helping. I thought you were meant to be using science to cut a path through the fog.’
‘We’re trying our best, Sir.’
‘So, come on then, what did you drag me all the way back down here for?’
Perkins waved him forward to the far wall. There was a strange-looking machine and some of Perkins’ team standing next to it.
‘This is called a Xaver800. Basically, it sees through walls by sending out radio waves that bounce off objects. Those signals return to the machine, which then creates a three-dimensional image of what’s on the other side of the wall. I thought I’d use it in a final attempt to find out what was going on in this room.’
‘Okay, you’ve got my attention.’
Perkins nodded at his people to switch the machine on.
‘We’re in the basement,’ Perkins said. ‘Beyond this wall there should only be mud.’
Quigg leaned closer to look at the black and white image on the screen. ‘Then what’s that?’ he said, pointing to a jumble of cogs and pulleys.
‘See this?’ Perkins pointed at a line going up the wall.
‘Obviously.’
Using a stepladder, one of Perkins’ people moved the machine up the wall until the line ended in the shadow of a small square box.
The man pressed the wall above the centre of the box.
There was a clunk.
Quigg looked around, but couldn’t see any changes in the room. ‘Did something happen?’
Perkins pointed to the right-hand corner of the wall. ‘Look.’
‘Bloody hell, there’s a gap.’
‘The whole wall moves on a central column. Here’s what we think. The wall was designed to be opened from the other side, but what we pressed is an emergency button – or something similar – to open it from inside the room should the need arise.’
‘Jesus, Perkins. You’ve found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.’
Perkins smiled. ‘Yes, I have done a good job, haven’t I?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’ He waved the people with the machine out of the way, gripped the corner of the wall and pulled. ‘Don’t forget, you still missed it the first time round.’
‘I knew you’d pour cold water on my discovery.’
‘That’s what I’m here for. So, what’s behind this wall?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’
‘It’s your job to venture into the unknown, to battle the dark forces of the underworld, and . . . Anyway, for all I know the killer is behind there waiting to stuff me into a meat grinder.’
There was a commotion in the corridor.
‘Hello?’ a bald-headed man in a suit shouted through the doorway as two forensic officers prevented him from entering the room.
‘Who are you?’ Quigg asked.
‘Mr Edward Jenkins from Sanctuary Holdings. I thought I’d better come and find out what was going on.’
‘Well, I’m afraid now is not a good time, Mr Jenkins. I’d be grateful if you could wait for me in reception. I’ll get to you as soon as I can.’
‘I’m not a very patient man, Inspector.’
‘That’s your problem, not mine.’
‘I know some people.’
‘Well, while you’re saying hello to those people, perhaps you could gain access to Mr Frye’s safe. I need to see the blueprints for this hotel.’
‘I’ve already said I haven’t got a spare key.’
‘That maybe so, but I’m sure you have the authority to call in a locksmith.’
‘Who’s paying?’
‘Put it this way. Either you get that safe open, or I’ll open it with some explosives. I need those blueprints, Mr Jenkins.’
The man’s shoulders slumped. ‘I suppose you’re going to find out everything sooner or later. There’s a mine, you know.’
‘Mine! What the hell are you talking about?’
‘The builders found a gold mine that the surveyors had missed. It was abandoned prior to 1873 when the statutory duty to register working and abandonment plans for mines was introduced, and neither was it catalogued subsequent to the 1925 appeal. In effect, no one knew about the mine.’
‘What does a gold mine have to do with us?’
‘’It’s behind that wall.’ He pointed to the far wall in Room 13. ‘And what’s worse, so is the asylum graveyard.’
Quigg walked out into the corridor to speak to Jenkins up close. ‘One of my people contacted you. They asked you to tell us everything we needed to know about the hotel. Why didn’t you tell us about the moving wall and the mine?’
‘Need to know.’
‘Don’t be an ass, man. I needed to know.’
‘I had my instructions from the owners.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Every room on this side of the building has a moving wall. There’s a six-foot gap between the end of the hotel and that wall. It was a closely-guarded secret. Only certain people were entrusted with the information.’
Quigg scratched his head. ‘Why?’
‘Why what?’
‘Well, why was it built that way in the first place? And why was it a secret?’
‘This is a horror theme park, Inspector. The owners decided to incorporate modifications into the hotel that would allow them some flexibility in providing the ultimate horror experience.’
‘Someone coming into your room and killing you? Yes, I can see how that would turn some people on.’
A shadow of a smile crossed Jenkins’ face. ‘That was unfortunate.’
‘Tell that to the eight people who died in this room. What about the mine?’
‘Yes . . . Well, the builders knew about the graveyard, but that was within a safe distance of the false rear wall they were adding. It was decided to landscape the graveyard over and let the occupants rest in peace. Unfortunately, as I said before, they didn’t know about the gold mine. Part of the new rear wall collapsed, and when the builders investigated they found a network of tunnels, which they eventually discovered was an old gold mine.’
‘And they filled the mine in?’
Jenkins gave a wry smile. ‘If only life were that simple. It always comes down to money, Inspector. The theme park was over budget. The developers had hit a number of problems. A couple of the owners were threatening to pull out at the spiralling costs . . . In a word, no they didn’t fill in the mine. They made the best of a bad job by filling in the tunnels close to the hotel and left it at that.’