The waiting. That was the worst of it. The knowledge that something was going to happen, but not knowing what or when. The sense that something or someone was waiting, just outside his vision, and might appear at any moment.
And the silence, the unearthly, unending silence. Other than the faint sounds of his own breath, his own heartbeat, he had heard nothing for-how long? He had no idea. It felt like hours, but was perhaps only minutes. There was no way to measure time. His body felt as if it was in suspended animation-he had long since ceased to feel any pain, any bodily needs or feelings at all. It was as if somehow he was existing beyond time.
And then suddenly the silence was broken. It took him a moment to register. Was it the sound of movement, of footsteps? He concentrated hard, trying to listen, trying to work out precisely what it was he had heard.
At first, he could hear nothing, then he heard it again, more clearly this time. It was the sound of someone, something moving somewhere close at hand. He strained to move his head to try to see something more, but the binding around his neck held as tightly as ever, and all he could see was the glare of the ceiling lights.
The sound grew louder. It was the sound of footsteps, not quite steady, not quite even, as though the person was dragging some heavy object. And there was something else, a scraping, something metallic being pulled along.
And then, for a breathless moment, there was silence once more. He could hear his own heart beating, faster and louder than before, the blood pounding in his ears.
For the first time since his initial panic attack in the dark, he was terrified. Up to now, his mind had detached itself from this reality and he had almost allowed himself to believe that the silence, the waiting, might continue forever, as if time really were suspended.
But the approaching sound of footsteps had brought him back to the reality of his predicament. There was no way out of this. He could not move. He could only lie here, his heart pounding, as he waited for what would happen next.
He strained his ears again listening for some clue, some indication. The footsteps resumed, uneven as before, backed by the strange metallic scraping, growing ever louder, ever closer. And then he heard something bumping against wood, a hollow echo. The footsteps paused again, and he heard, with a sickening emptiness in his stomach, the door at the far end of the room slowly being opened.
“It’s the same room as before,” Nergui whispered. “The room where we found Delgerbayar.”
Doripalam and Cholon had clustered close beside him. The factory was icy cold, and they could feel the further blast of chilled air from the open door behind them. The three of them were looking down the length of the room. Nergui was holding a large spotlight, shining the beam down the dusty empty space toward the closed door at the far end.
The main factory area was as empty and deserted as before. Nergui had shone the flashlight around the large vaulted room, peering into the corners and up on to the ramps to make sure nothing had changed. At this time of the year, there were not even any rats scurrying in the corners. There was simply an eerie, hollow silence that seemed to close around them as they stood together in the freezing night.
Nergui turned to Cholon. “You don’t need to come any further. Go back to the car. If we’re not out in ten minutes, radio for back up.”
Cholon hesitated. “I’d still rather come with you. If it is Badzar-”
“We don’t know what we’re going to find here.” Nergui’s mind was already conjuring up images of their last discovery in this place. “It’s better if you go back and wait.” Up to the point when he had spotted the glimmer of light from the far room, he had not really believed they were going to find anything here. It was a hunch, something that had to be checked out, but all his professional experience had told him that it was a waste of time. But his hunch had been right. There was something here.
Cholon paused a moment longer, but Nergui said: “Go. Now.” Cholon nodded, and turned back to the open door. Nergui suspected he would wait outside, desperate to find out what lay behind this. That was okay-at least he would be in a position to radio for help if it should be needed.
Nergui nodded to Doripalam, and they began to make their way slowly along the length of the room. Nergui kept the spotlight trained ahead of them, trying to avoid it shining directly on the door so that there was less chance it might alert anyone in the room beyond.
By the time they reached the door itself, Nergui was convinced he knew what lay in the room. He wasn’t sure what alerted him first-some instinct, perhaps, but then he picked up a smell he knew only too well. It was the smell of blood and decay. It was the smell that lingers when human remains have been left to rot. The smell of death.
He gestured silently to Doripalam to stop. Then he whispered: “Step back. I do not think we are in any danger here, but I suspect that what lies beyond that door will not be pleasant.”
Nergui put down the spotlight and pulled out his pistol, his eyes locked on the doorway. Then he reached out and threw open the door, holding his breath, preparing for whatever lay beyond.
Even so, he was taken by surprise.
The room, as he had expected, contained no living creature. It was as silent and empty as when they had found Delgerbayar’s body. And it was again lit by a spotlight attached to a car battery, providing the setting for another grotesque display.
But the centerpiece was different. There was no body on the table. Instead, there was a bloody mess, a horrifying parody of a butcher’s tray. Nergui blinked, trying to take in what he was seeing. Finally, his breath coming in short bursts, he was able to decipher the extraordinary sight in front of him.
Lying on the table was a mass of severed human body parts. There were four hands, cut off at the wrist. And there were two human heads, their eyes empty and staring, placed precisely in the center of the table.
Nergui turned to Doripalam, who had positioned himself behind Nergui and was staring, horrified, into the room. “I think,” Nergui said slowly, “that Badzar has decided to fill in the gaps in our collection.”
CHAPTER 20
It was nearly eight by the time Nergui arrived back at police HQ. Doripalam had called out forensics to collect the body parts, and Nergui had waited, tramping backward and forward in the deep snow, until they and the crime scene officers reached the factory.
Doripalam had asked for a full alert to be put out for Badzar’s arrest, and officers were being called back on to duty to attempt a full-scale manhunt. At least now they had a clear suspect, but Nergui knew from experience how easy it was for a fugitive to hide out in this city. He was not hopeful that Badzar would be apprehended quickly.
He had sent Doripalam and Cholon back, telling them to get some rest. He had briefly informed Cholon what had been found in the room, but had not allowed him to see the grotesque display. As he spoke, he had seen the look of horrified emptiness in Cholon’s eyes. It was no longer possible for Cholon to deny, to himself or anyone else, what his brother had been capable of. “I’m sorry,” was all that Nergui could say, but he could sense the years of uncomprehending anguish that lay ahead for Cholon.
Cholon began to walk, dead-eyed, back to the truck. Doripalam turned to Nergui. “You’ll be all right here on your own? Do you think it’s safe?”
Nergui shrugged. “I imagine so. I can’t believe that Badzar would have hung around after setting up that little show for us.”
“He’s smart, though,” Doripalam said. “How did he know we would come here? I mean-” He looked slightly embarrassed. “I mean, it was only a hunch on your part. I-well, I wasn’t sure anything would come of it.”
Nergui smiled grimly. “Neither was I, if I’m honest. But once the thought had occurred, I couldn’t ignore it. But the truth is that that display could have sat there for a long time. The light was on a timer, and I suppose Badzar could always come replace the battery at intervals if necessary. At this time of the year, the flesh wouldn’t decay quickly. He could just wait until we
-or someone-happened to stumble upon it.” He paused. “And of course, if our phantom caller really is Badzar, then he might have used his next call to lead us here.”
“But what’s he up to? Why go to all that trouble to dismember the bodies, apparently to hide their identities, and then give us the missing body parts anyway?”
“I don’t know, but I have a sense that this is moving toward some endgame.” It was what he had felt all along, the sense of something moving slowly but ever more certainly toward a purpose, toward some sense of resolution. He couldn’t square this feeling with the brutal and apparently random nature of these killings, but he now felt this sense of purpose more than ever. He shook his head. “There’s something about this,” he said. “I think endgame is the right word. There is some game being played here, and I have an awful feeling we’re being treated as the pawns.”
Doripalam nodded, clearly baffled by Nergui’s speculations. “You don’t want us to wait till backup arrives?”
Nergui glanced across at Cholon, who was leaning over the hood of the truck, looking like a man who had had all the life beaten out of him. “No, you need to look after Cholon. I can’t begin to imagine what he’s going through. Get him a hotel room, see if he can get some sleep, but keep an eye on him.”
As soon as the truck had driven away, Nergui wondered if this had been a wise decision. There was no telling what Badzar might be planning. Perhaps he was observing him at this very moment, waiting until Doripalam and Cholon had driven away before moving against Nergui. Just as, Nergui thought, he might have been waiting for Drew on the night they left the embassy.
He looked uneasily around him. The yard beside the factory was silent and deserted. It was still dark, though the glow in the eastern sky heralded the approach of sunrise. In the distance, the city would be starting to come to life, the snowplows out clearing the streets. But there was no sign of that here. Nergui flashed the spotlight around the yard, catching unnerving shapes and shadows as the beam circled. He moved himself slowly back against the wall of the factory, trying to ensure that there was at least no risk of his being caught from behind.
Nergui was far from being a nervous individual, but the next twenty minutes, until the backup team arrived, were among the most uncomfortable he had ever endured. He stood, with his back to the factory wall, regularly arcing the spotlight beam around him, trying to minimize the risk that anyone might take him by surprise. He kept his hand in his pocket, resting on the cold handle of his pistol, ready to draw it at any sign of movement.
The snow was helpful to him because any figures crossing the open area of the yard would be thrown into relief by the stark whiteness, and it was virtually impossible to walk silently across the crisp drifts. The moon had risen too, and the yard was bathed in its pale light, although there were still too many shadows and dark corners where an assailant could hide.
Nergui told himself he was being ridiculous. There was no possibility that Badzar would have hung around here, no chance that he had witnessed their arrival. The risks would surely have been too great. But, clearly, they were not dealing with a rational man. It seemed there was no limit to what he might do, no way of predicting his actions.
However much he tried to rationalize his position, Nergui could not shake the uneasy feeling that he was being watched, and his mind went back to the arrow that had been fired at himself and Drew, and he realized how vulnerable his position might be.
He remained as still as possible, listening for any movement, any sound that might reveal the presence of another person. Now that the snow had stopped falling and the sky had cleared, there was a faint chill breeze blowing through the yards and alleyways between the factory buildings. He heard, once, the sound of something scattering, perhaps a paper blown in the wind, or maybe the echo of footsteps in the snow. He turned in what he judged to be the right direction, straining his ears, but could hear nothing more.
And then he heard another sound, off to his left. Unmistakable this time, the sound of scraping, snow being dislodged, someone moving. He directed the spotlight toward the sound, able to see nothing. The white sweep of banked snow rose toward a concrete wall at the far end of the factory yard. And then his spotlight caught something, raised upon the top of the wall-a shape, a shadow, moving swiftly, dropping behind the concrete. He tensed, shining the light backward and forward at the spot, but could see nothing more. Just the snow-covered top of the wall, perhaps a smudge or two where the snow had been disturbed.
He peered into the light, trying to see more. Perhaps it had been an animal of some kind, though that seemed unlikely on such a cold night. And in his heart he knew that someone had been watching him. Perhaps was still watching him
Nergui shivered. The prospect that he was being observed by the person who had been capable of such unspeakable acts of murder and mutilation, who had perhaps been responsible for Drew’s disappearance, sent a chill through his body. He crouched down, trying to present as small a target as possible, his eyes concentrating on the area where he had seen movement, but also constantly darting around the yard in case assault should come from another direction.
Finally his concentration was disturbed by a far more welcome sound. It was the noise of a car engine, closely followed by a second. Headlights flashed around the edges of the yard as two marked patrol cars pulled slowly to a halt in front of the factory.
Nergui rose, peering over the cars to see if there was any sign of movement beyond. Three police officers emerged from the front car. The rear car contained the pathologist and a specialist scene of crime officer.
Nergui spoke briefly to the three officers. “Come with me. I think I saw someone over there. It may be our man. But be careful. He’s extremely dangerous.”
He led the way cautiously across the yard to the snow covered wall where he had seen the movements. He flashed the spotlight across it. He had been right. The snow had been disturbed in the center, as if someone had been trying to clamber over the wall. The wall itself was no more than six feet high, not difficult to scale in normal circumstances but made more treacherous by the drifted snow. There was no obvious gate or other entry point.
Nergui handed the spotlight to one of the other officers, and stamped his way through the snow drift to reach the wall. Aware that he might be making himself a sitting target, he reached up and pulled himself up till his head was above the top of the wall, ready to drop back if there was any evidence of a threat from the other side.
There was nothing, just a further area of snow covered concrete, then the ground fell away into some form of wasteland-the ruins of some demolished building, though it was difficult to tell in the snow. On the other side were more factories and industrial buildings, tightly clustered.
Beyond the point where the snow on the wall had been disturbed, there was a line of jumbled footprints, leading down into the wasteland area. It was possible that they might provide some sort of trail, but Nergui suspected that the trail would be lost in the factory buildings opposite, where the narrow alleyways had avoided the worst of the snow.
“Was it him?” one of the officers asked.
Nergui shrugged. “I can’t imagine anyone else being out here on a night like this. Get over the wall and see if you can make anything of the trail of footprints over there-anything at all from the footprints themselves. And then see if you can find where they lead. They probably just disappear on the far side, but it’s worth a look. Take care.”
The officers began to clamber up onto the wall. Nergui watched them a moment, and then began to walk back across the yard to where the pathologist and crime scene officer were waiting. He nodded to them without speaking, and then led the way back into the factory.
Even for Nergui, returning to the scene, the display of body parts was still shocking. He could see the crime scene officer visibly paling at the sight before them, and even the hardened pathologist appeared shaken.
“I’m assuming,” Nergui said slowly, “that these items
correspond to the two unidentified corpses already in our possession. That is, I am praying that we are not now faced with two further killings.”
The pathologist nodded. “Let us hope not.”
“And the second thing is to try to get some idea of their identities. If these were removed from the original corpses, then it should be much easier to identify them, I presume?”
The pathologist nodded, staring at the display with a mix of horror and bafflement. “There are no guarantees but at least we will have fingerprints, dental records. It looks as if the killer is trying to assist us.”
“So it would seem,” Nergui said. He turned to the crime scene officer. “I want you to review every square centimeter of this place. Anything you can find-anything-may be critical. We think we know who we’re looking for now, so we’re going to need evidence to prove he was here. I can’t imagine he’s going to have left fingerprints, but there may be other forensic evidence.”
He left the two men working in the room, still lit by the battery-powered spotlight, and made his way back outside. The three officers had climbed back over the wall and were making their way back toward him.
“Nothing,” one said, shaking his head. “The footsteps up at this end are too jumbled to make anything of. And over on the other side there’s a whole network of sheltered alleyways that the snow hasn’t touched. We followed the trail a few yards into the alleys, but then it disappeared.”
“This man knows what he’s doing,” Nergui said. “He’s not going to make it easy for us.” He gestured back to the factory. “Two of you had better stay here, just in case.” He looked around in the darkness. “I cannot imagine he is still in the vicinity. But then I didn’t seriously believe that he was here in the first place.”
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