Sweet Oblivion

by Rhiana Ramsey

  The restaurant had erupted in applause and she had never felt so happy in her life. She hadn’t gone back to work after that, the sous-chef had taken over and she had spent the evening with Ryan sipping champagne and talking about their future. They’d spent the night together at Ryan‘s, wrapped up in each other’s arms, blissfully happy.

  Now she was home and she couldn’t wait to tell Daniel her good news. She hoped he was in as she felt ready to burst, barely able to contain her excitement; she hadn’t told any of her friends or family yet as she had wanted to savour the moment with Ryan before letting others into their happy, joyful world. As she opened the front door she noted that it was not double locked which meant that Daniel should be home.

  ‘Dan!’ she called as she stepped into the hallway, dropping her keys into the pot they kept on the table by the door; she noticed that his house keys were in the pot, the big voodoo doll key ring she had given him hanging over the edge.

  ‘Dan! I have news!’ she trilled, excitedly.

  She continued humming as she progressed through the house to the kitchen. Where was her bloody brother? A quick look around the kitchen convinced her he wasn’t lurking in there. Denise progressed into the living room, passing various family photos and culinary certificates that hung proudly on the wall.

  Daniel’s boots were lying near the sofa as if they had been hurriedly kicked off; his combat trousers and a PVC shirt were also strewn across the floor. He had clearly been eager to undress.

  In the past four months, whilst Daniel had been staying with her, Denise had never known her brother to leave his clothes lying around; he was normally the perfect house guest. She wondered why he had stripped off in the living room and not cleared up after himself; she wondered why he had been wearing a PVC shirt. She wondered what his wife would think.

  Daniel’s home, which he shared with newly-pregnant wife, Caroline, was in Lancashire but he was currently staying with Denise in the week, travelling home at weekends, whilst completing work an a large-scale construction in London for which he was chief architect. The project was set to last a further four months, much to Denise’s chagrin, as she was enjoying having her brother around and didn’t want him to leave.

  She didn’t like seeing the clothes lying around, however, as they were making her suspicious that Dan had been with another woman. She didn’t like cheats, considering it completely ignoble. She left the living room and continued to the foot of the stairs, shouting up towards the landing, hoping to hear Dan answer back. She was met with silence. Denise slowly walked up the stairs, listening for any noises, any signs of movement.

  As she crept up the stairs she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen and her flesh shivered with an unease she didn’t understand; she sensed something was wrong, something had happened to her brother. At the top of the stairs, she shouted for her brother again, but this time she didn’t expect a reply.

  She walked down the corridor to the spare bedroom that Dan was using during his stay and stood in front of the door; it was only now that she detected a faint, unpleasant smell, which appeared to be emanating from within. Gingerly, she opened the door, quietly saying: ‘Dan, you in here? You alone?’

  She poked her head around the door frame, her eyes flitting across the various bedroom furniture and paraphernalia, seeking her brother, her gaze eventually settling on the bed at the far-side of the room. It took her a second to register what she was actually looking at, her mind refusing to accept what her eyes were telling it.

  She saw a man’s body, bloodied and blue, stretched across the bed, the arms and legs pulled taught by rope ligatures which fastened them to the four corners of the bed. Even before her eyes made their way up to the man’s face, Denise knew it was her brother who lay there, torn and lifeless, the distinctive eagle tattoo that he had had inked on his thigh when he was 17 so that he could hide it from their parents was still partially visible beneath the layer of caked blood that had dried on his leg.

  Denise felt tears pricking her eyes as she registered that this blood-stained mess in front of her was all that remained of her wonderful fun-loving brother, the brother who had looked out for her their entire lives and who had always put her first.

  She looked at Daniel’s face and saw that his left eye had been pushed back within his skull, his mouth open wide in a silent scream; her gaze moved back down his body and Denise realised that not only had Dan been murdered, he had been brutally mutilated for between his legs there remained nothing but blood and gore.

  She raised her hands to her face, sobs racking her body, and dropped to her knees, shaking with shock. Yesterday had been one of the happiest days of her life, but now Ryan’s proposal would always be tainted by death. She couldn’t help but think that if she had been at home, instead of at Ryan’s, her brother may not have been murdered, he may not have been tied up and left dead and undignified. Maybe this ghastly murder could have been prevented? She would have to live with that guilt for the rest of her life.

  ************************************************

  The investigation team were gathered in the incident room for their afternoon briefing. During large enquiries it was common to have a briefing at least twice a day so that all information could be fed back into the room, keeping everyone abreast of developments, actions could be raised and avenues for exploration could be allocated.

  Elizabeth and Tony were ignoring each other, sitting at opposite sides of the room, concertedly trying to avoid eye contact, although Tony was finding it harder than Elizabeth to pretend she was invisible, occasionally glancing in her general direction.

  All the detectives working on the case were present, including Ian Burrell, along with three other officers, two men and a woman, that nobody knew but who Greg guessed were also from Force Headquarters as they seemed quite friendly with Ian. The room was packed and everyone, except the newcomers, looked worn out.

  Robert began the briefing by raising the thorny issue of the press release Meadows had conducted without his knowledge or approval on Tuesday. Since then, Meadows had appeared on TV a number of times, asking the public to assist if they had any information ‘no matter how trivial it may seem’ and the phones had been ringing off the hook.

  The media department was working overtime trying to keep the reporters satisfied and trying to find suitable material to release to the press - there wasn’t much of it. Robert had managed to intercept one of the release writers and had given him strict instructions that no matter what Meadows said or did, nothing was to be released about the victims’ penises being removed or the fact the victims had been tied to their beds. The man had turned a strange green colour and had given Robert his word.

  ‘We have three officers joining us to help with the telephone calls resulting from the media appeals,’ Robert explained, indicating the three officers at the back of the room with Ian.

  The officers looked slightly uncomfortable as all eyes turned on them and they introduced themselves as Alicia Lewis, Richard Monahan and Mick Brown.

  ‘You’re all detectives working out of headquarters, right? Did the boss explain what he wanted you to do here?’ Robert checked.

  ‘Yep, that’s right. We’ve been told to lend a hand with the phone calls only, but if there is anything else you need us to do, we‘re happy to help,’ said Mick.

  Alicia smiled but Richard looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than where he was at present. Tony couldn’t help but smirk, it wasn’t often that FHQ officers got made to do the grunt work; he hoped it might serve to bring them down a peg or two, he mused.

  ‘I know the circumstances surrounding our involvement are less than ideal,’ Alicia felt compelled to say, ‘and for what it’s worth, I don’t think Mr Meadows should have revealed that the killer is a woman either. I also know that we’re probably here as a punishment for his mistake, but as Mick said, whatever you may think, we really are happy to help. It’s actually nice to get away from headquarters for a change.�
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  ‘Thank you for that,’ Robert said, ‘and welcome to the team. I‘m sorry you were chosen to fix the problem the boss created.’

  ‘It is what it is,’ Richard mumbled.

  ‘Indeed. Right, how are we getting on with the council CCTV?’ Robert asked, dismissing Richard, disappointed with his sullen attitude.

  ‘We have managed to get some images from the street where James Wilton, the hotdog seller, said he saw David Saunders and the killer. Two council cameras service that street and we have obtained images from both. However, the images are really poor quality; the image from the first camera, which is the better placed camera, is too grainy for any possible identification to be made and it’s a little out of focus. The second camera is also no good as it’s range is too far. It’s at the wrong end of the street basically, and all you can see are two figures walking along the top of the image,’ JB said.

  ‘Typical,’ Robert grunted.

  ‘I know. They’re never where you bloody need them. As for footage from outside the club on the nights the two victims were killed, again there a couple of cameras that cover the immediate area, but none of them directly cover the club. The footage from around the streets that lead to the club has been looked at but the suspect hasn’t been spotted on any of it. It’s difficult not knowing which route she may have taken, which direction she came from and also not having a specific time.’

  ‘Are any of the current images suitable for enhancement?’

  ‘Certainly none of our own imaging software is up for the job, although we have tried, and I have tried to outsource it but unfortunately, when the images are this poor there’s not a lot that can be done.’

  ‘Ok, can we get the cameras moved? I understand they’re usually omniscan and can be rotated. If they’re rotated in any particular direction can we get any better shots of the club?’ Robert asked.

  ‘They are omniscan guv. I went up to the council building and had a look at the coverage myself. We can get good coverage of the closest tube station and two shots from the junctions of two of the streets adjacent to the club. I did ask if it would be possible to leave one of the cameras on the tube station for example, in case she went to the club again on foot, and I was told that they could do this, but that would only be until an emergency call came out from any of our uniformed colleagues. The CCTV operators then move the cameras about trying to locate the officers, or the incident in question. They had four calls whilst I was there. The cameras, I would say, are too hit and miss,’ JB finished.

  Robert nodded, thinking about the stunning blonde he had seen the night before. He hadn’t seen which way she had turned upon leaving the club but she had left the area quickly leaving Robert to surmise that she had hailed a taxi. He couldn’t explain what it was about this woman that was captivating him so, he couldn’t tell if he was suspicious of her or if he simply fancied her.

  ‘Could we maybe get permission to install our own covert camera in the environs of the club?’ Greg suggested.

  ‘No. We won’t get the authority for that, it’ll be deemed too intrusive. It’ll capture too many people and besides we’d be working on the proviso that she’s going to go back to the club and that she met with both victims there, which while we suspect it, we can’t categorically state that it’s the case. The intel wouldn’t be strong enough to support our application in this instance.’ Robert replied. ‘What about your list of abused girls Elizabeth? And what about the rope the victims were tied up with?’

  Tony looked at her. She had changed into a charcoal grey suit, applied a little make up and her hair was now fastened in a bun. He couldn’t help but visualise her in his mind’s eye as he had seen her in his bed the previous morning, her hair tousled, her face make-up free, lips slightly parted, sweat running down her naked body as they made love with abandon. As if guessing what was on his mind, Elizabeth suddenly turned and gave him her most disapproving look causing Tony to lower his eyes to the floor.

  ‘I have my list from the council guv,’ she replied, ‘I just haven’t had a chance to go through it yet. I shall get on it ASAP. As for the rope, it could have come from anywhere. I am told by the scientists at the SOCO labs that there is nothing distinctive about it, there are no features that we could use to trace it to a particular shop or batch and that it is commercially available in any sex shop and on the internet. So, not much use to us really.’

  ‘Kind of what we expected then,’ Robert said. Elizabeth shrugged in agreement. ‘Ok, now Ian. Please tell me you have some good news for us.’

  ‘Well actually I think I do. I’ve managed to establish that both victims have used the same internet chat room. They have each used a number of different sites and it’s no surprise that there is some cross-over on both computers as this is quite a specific fetish in a specific location - London. However, there is one site in particular that they have both used repeatedly, and both used leading up the day of their murder. This makes me think that they used this chat room in particular to converse with the killer.’

  A murmur of excitement rippled around the room. One of the incident room telephones began ringing so JB got up to answer it.

  ‘I’m in the process of trawling through deleted files, old internet files and cookies to see if I can find any old web logs or chats that may have been saved by either of the victims. It’s taking a little while because although I can run software to automatically trawl the two machines, I need to physically go through the reports it creates to look for commonality. It’s a bit tricky when you don’t have any keywords or names to look for, I’m just comparing words as and when they come up… It’s an imperfect system, but I’m confident I’ll get a username pretty soon,’ Ian said confidently

  ‘This is excellent news, good work Ian. Can you give an estimated time frame at all?’ Robert asked.

  ‘No I can’t say, I wouldn’t want to raise any expectation, but I am making good progress.’

  ‘Would it help you to have another pair of eyes going through the reports with you?’

  ‘Thank you but no, it’s easier for one person to go through the material to be honest.’

  ‘Ok good stuff.’

  JB was thanking the caller on the end of the phone; he did not look pleased.

  ‘JB? What was that about?’ Robert asked him as he retuned the receiver to the cradle. JB shook his head and said:

  ‘We’ve got another body, same MO. Discovered by his sister this afternoon when she returned home after spending the night away at her boyfriend’s’

  ‘Holy fuck,’ Elizabeth said.

  ‘That means…’ Tony began.

  ‘Yeah. It means this guy was killed last night. The night we were in the club.’

  Chapter XXVIII

  Louise stood looking out of her kitchen window, one hand holding back her net curtain, the other pressing a telephone to her ear. She looked at the bus stop where she had seen, hallucinated, or imagined the weird man with crooked teeth over a week ago now.

  Today there was a handful of people waiting in the small shelter and today the sun was shining. No strange people out there, she mused, or at least no obvious ones; you never knew what was lurking in the dark recesses of people’s minds. People would never fail to surprise, disappoint or impress, it was part of the human condition and Derek Cooper was a perfect example of this. He was also the topic of the conversation Louise was having with Ben.

  ‘So, you haven’t heard anything further about his plans to sue?’ Louise asked, dropping the curtain and moving into the living room, where she plonked herself down on the couch, curling her legs up under her.

  ‘No, so far nothing,’ Ben said, ‘It’s early days though, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah I guess so. I don’t know how long these things take.’

  ‘Me neither. You’ll never guess what though,’ Ben said

  ‘What?’

  ‘Derek is actually here at the moment. He’s in the office.’

  Louise sat up straight and fel
t anger flushing to her cheeks. ‘What? What for? What’s the fucker up to?’ she questioned.

  Ben paused before responding to her and she guessed it was because of her angry rant the previous morning.

  ‘It’s ok Ben. I’m calm. I won’t have another outburst,’ she reassured.

  ‘Well, he reckons he left some stuff here and that he has files he needs on his computer.’

  ‘I can’t believe you let him in Ben! What were you thinking? What if he’s trying to infect the network with a virus or something, or steal next edition’s headlines?’ Louise was immediately suspicious.

  ‘I knew you’d disapprove, but there is nothing to be gained in being difficult, that would just be playing into his hands. And don’t worry, I have Sam in IT monitoring his every key stroke to see exactly what he is up to. If he tries to plant a virus or sabotage next month’s issue, Sam will shut him down immediately.’

  ‘Don’t you just love technology! It always freaks me out a bit when the IT geeks monitor a machine your working on remotely. They did it on my computer once to help me with a persistent fault and I was very excited to see my cursor moving about seemingly opening applications on a whim!’ Louise giggled and Ben loved the sound; at that moment she sounded like her old self again.

  ‘He’s also here to ask the other writers and some of the other staff out for a drink with him apparently. I’m not invited of course.’

  ‘Is anyone actually going to go?’ Louise asked, appalled at the notion of anyone wanting to sit and socialise with the man.

  ‘Yeah, I think so. Maybe they just want to check he really is leaving,’ Ben joked. ‘Although I suspect it’s more likely because they want to know all the gossip. I’m sure he’ll be bending their ears about his plans to sue me and his unfounded suspicions about us.’

  ‘Great,’ Louise snorted.

  ‘I think I’m going to get a lot of funny looks here tomorrow.’

  ‘Should I come back to work do you think? Show them that it’s all a load of bollocks? Doesn’t me being off make it look like we have something to hide?’