Jacob's Ladder (Stone & Randall 1)

by Ellis, Tim

  The phone on her desk rang.

  ‘Stone?’

  ‘Are you waiting for a Father Ignatius?’ It was the tall silver-haired Ted Salway from the front desk.

  ‘Yes, send him up. Thanks, Ted.’

  She wandered to the top of the stairs and waited for the Priest to arrive. Expecting to see an old white man wearing a cassock with a white-collar, she was surprised to be confronted by a middle-aged black man. He wore a pair of jeans, a long open coat that looked as though it had been stolen from the charity clothes pile at the church bazaar, and a light grey hoodie with words emblazoned on the front in three-inch high green letters.

  Atheists

  Are

  Beyond

  Belief

  Seeing the expression on her face Father Ignatius said, ‘You were expecting someone slightly different?’

  ‘Well…’

  ‘I get it all the time, people have a stereotype of a Catholic Priest in their heads, and I don’t quite measure up to that ideal.’

  ‘Welcome, Father,’ she said not wanting to get into a discussion about people’s stereotypes. She led him along the corridor to the incident room warning him about the graphic nature of the photographs. Lucy and Abby looked up, smiled and carried on with their work.

  ‘Can I offer you a hot drink, Father?’

  ‘No thank you, I’m fine.’

  He sat down facing the incident boards and Molly told him about the murders.

  ‘Yes, Hebrew is certainly viewed as the word of God, but don’t tell Rabbi Ezra Rosen at the Ashkenazi Synagogue I said that, he’d be insufferable if he knew I’d finally admitted it.’

  ‘It has been suggested that there might be some religious significance in the killer using Hebrew letters, Father.’

  Father Ignatius stood up and peered at the photographs, the Hebrew letters, and the other details relating to each crime scene. He said, ‘God Himself used a mark to identity His faithful Remnant in a vision He gave to the Prophet Ezekiel:

  And the Lord said, Go through the midst of the city, through the midst of Jerusalem, and set a mark upon the foreheads of the men that sigh and that cry for all the abominations that be done in the midst thereof. And to the others he said in mine hearing: Go ye after him through the city, and smite: let not your eye spare, neither have ye pity: Slay utterly old and young, both maids, and little children, and women: but come not near any man upon whom is the mark.

  The passage refers to "men" and "man", but it shouldn’t be taken literally, because it then talks about slaying women and children.’

  ‘I wasn’t very good at Religious Studies, Father?’

  He flashed his perfect white teeth. ‘I’m sure you were very good, Inspector. What the Bible is saying, is that those people who had the Lord’s mark on their foreheads would be spared.’

  ‘I suppose that the girls were spared the humiliation of mutilation, but they were still killed, Father.’

  ‘We’re obviously talking about a warped mind, Inspector, but being saved comes in many shapes and sizes, and he could think that he’s saving the girls by killing them. The mark on their forehead suggests that he is sending them to Heaven.’

  ‘If you say so, Father.’

  ‘Were these also left by the killer?’ he asked pointing to the Magician Tarot card on the second board.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s interesting,’ he said touching the greying hair at his right temple. ‘Some people suggest that Tarot cards were the original deck of cards, and refer to them as the Devil’s Picture Book or the Devil’s Bible.’

  Molly raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Early forms of playing cards were thought to tempt men away from their pious devotions and duty, towards the sins of gambling and frivolity. The occultists also adopted the Tarot, thinking that they were a repository for ancient wisdom and could predict the future. Witches, psychics and Satan worshippers use the playing cards for divination, and to cast spells and curses. If Hebrew is the word of God, then Tarot might be considered the word of the Devil. Are you seeking advice from a person who knows about the Tarot?’

  ‘I have someone coming into the station tomorrow morning,’ Molly said.

  ‘Ask them about the hidden meanings behind each of the cards. I’m no expert, but I think you’ll find a connection between the Tarot and the Hebrew characters. It’s even been suggested that the Torah – the legal and ethical religious texts of Judaism – is a derivation of Tarot.’

  Molly wondered how all of this was helping her find the killer. She stood up and extended her hand. ‘Thank you for coming, Father, you’ve been very helpful.’

  ‘It’s kind of you to say so, Inspector, I hope you catch the evil person who is doing this soon.’

  She escorted him down the stairs and out into the reception area. ‘Say hello to the Pope for me, Father,’ she said.

  ‘I will, Inspector. I shall inform him about how you are at the forefront of the battle against evil.’

  After Father Ignatius had left she walked through the station from front to back, and stood shivering in the car park smoking a cigarette and visualising herself as Molly of Arc on a white horse.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was five past three when she phoned Frank. ‘Any problems?’

  ‘No, we’re on our way back now with Mr Pike. Remember it’s a Friday afternoon. I estimate about an hour, the traffic’s beginning to pile up on the south circular.’

  ‘Okay, Frank, look after him.’ She ended the call and wandered into the Incident Room. Lucy and Abby were both on the telephone.

  Her mobile activated. She’d nearly forgotten about Cole Randall, until his voice brought him back into her life.

  ‘It’s me.’

  She knew who it was. ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘Take photographs of the incident boards with your mobile phone, and send them to me on this number.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Get me copies of everything recent.’

  ‘That’ll take time.’

  ‘We don’t have time, Molly. You don’t have time.’

  ‘Okay. Is that it?’

  ‘Meet me at 7 Beavor Lane, just past the Premier Inn. I’m in flat 5 on the second floor. Come at 8 o’clock.’

  ‘I do have a life, you know.’

  ‘No you haven’t. You forget I know you, Molly Stone.’

  Yes, he did know her. Stupid ideas that she could have a life kept mushrooming in her consciousness, but she knew she could never have a life. Any life she might have the audacity to imagine would come crashing down around her ears when the hallucinations and the delusions began. Oh, she wouldn’t be around to see it; she’d be somewhere no one else could follow, a place that existed only in the labyrinth of her mind.

  She captured the number, went to each board and photographed them one at a time. Then she turned the camera on herself crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out, and pressed the button. Feeling slightly better she sent the images to Randall.

  Next, she collected up all the recent documents, which included the updated psychological profile, anything in the Taylor file, the photographs, the notes on the Hebrew characters from Hilary Mansell and Father Ignatius, and took them to the photocopy room. She realised that mention had been made of the pubic hair on the Taylor board, but she wouldn’t say anything about Malachi Pike until tonight. By then, she’d know one way or the other if he were implicated in the murders. What she didn’t want was Randall running around like an avenging angel killing anyone who might be a suspect before she’d had chance to question them.

  Once she’d finished with the photocopier it was four-fifteen and she realised that Frank and Tony would be back soon with Mr Pike. She made a detour to her office, put the pile of paper in her briefcase, and then took the originals back to the Incident Room before going down the back stairs to the car park to replenish her nicotine battery. She was sure that if it weren’t for the cigarettes and the coffee, she’d be a quivering wreck in
a padded cell.

  Frank pulled into the car park at four twenty-five and parked his Saab in a space reserved for the collection and delivery of criminals.

  Molly stubbed her cigarette out and went back into the building, but instead of going upstairs she headed downstairs to the interview suites and slipped into the observation room adjoining interview room one. She activated the CCTV cameras, dual microphones, and tamper-proof DVD recorder, and sat in the swivel chair to peer through the two-way mirror as Frank and Tony escorted their guest into the room.

  The first thing she noticed about Malachi Pike as he looked into the mirror was his staring blue eyes that never seemed to blink. His blonde hair was slicked back with gel, and he wore a face that hid all his cards.

  Frank left to get a Constable.

  Tony asked Mr Pike to sit in the chair provided on one side of the metal and wood table facing the two-way mirror. The CCTV cameras in each corner produced images of all four occupants in an interview room.

  Pike undid the shirt button at his neck and loosened his white tie with a hooked finger as he sat down.

  When a uniformed Constable arrived, Tony left. Frank and Tony both appeared in the observation room.

  ‘Do you want to interview him, Gov?’ Frank said.

  ‘No, I’ll watch,’ she said. She didn’t feel much like doing anything. What she wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep, and she wished she felt like that in the early hours of the morning when the seconds were crawling by. ‘You and Tony do the honours. What do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Frank said. ‘He hasn’t spoken, and his face tells me nothing. If he’s our killer, he has a heart of granite.’

  ‘Surely he said, "Hello"?’ Molly asked.

  ‘No, not a word. By the time we’d reached his office he’d already phoned his solicitor, who had obviously told him to say nothing, and that’s exactly what he’s done.’

  There was a knock on the door before it opened. Ted Salway from Reception stuck his head in. ‘I thought I’d find you in here, Inspector.’

  ‘Hello, Ted. What is it?’

  ‘Mr Pike’s solicitor, Sir Richard Dunstan is here, wants to see his client.’

  ‘Pike’s come well prepared,’ Frank said. ‘Dunstan is one of the top criminal solicitors in London.’

  Molly nodded at Tony. ‘Escort Dunstan down.’

  Once Dunstan and Pike had spoken, Frank and Tony entered the interview room.

  Tony switched on the dual cassette tapes. After stating who was in the room he said, ‘Interview with Mr Malachi Pike on Friday 6th November at four forty-three. Mr Pike, could you…’

  ‘My client has been advised to say nothing, Sergeant,’ Dunstan said. ‘We would like to know what evidence you have found that has led you to Mr Pike?’

  ‘We’ll come to that…’

  ‘I’m afraid, Sergeant, that if you don’t come to it now, then anything Mr Pike might wish to say will remain unsaid.’

  Molly understood why Mr Pike had retained Dunstan as his solicitor. Although Frank was meant to be in control, Dunstan had turned it around and was dictating events.

  Frank had little choice but to tell Dunstan and Pike why he had been brought in. ‘One of Mr Pike’s pubic hairs was found on the adult female victim at the Turner crime scene.’

  ‘Let me see if I have this right, Sergeant,’ Dunstan said in a mocking voice. ‘After the last family was murdered you arrest one of your own based on fabricated evidence. Now, another family has been murdered, and you find a single hair at the crime scene that implicates my client.’ He leaned forward. ‘The police are gradually becoming a laughing-stock, Sergeant. Now if there’s nothing else…?’

  ‘I’d like to ask your client some questions,’ Frank said trying to wrestle control of the interview back from Dunstan.

  Molly left the observation room and opened the door on the interview.

  Tony left at a nod from her.

  Ignoring his knighthood she introduced herself and sat down. ‘Detective Inspector Stone, Mr Dunstan.’

  ‘Good evening, Inspector.’

  ‘You are here in an advisory capacity only, Mr Dunstan. You will not answer for your client. If your client wishes to remain silent then that will be noted, but you should only speak either to convey your client’s wishes, or to intervene in respect of the law. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Certainly, Inspector. I was merely trying to save us all time.’

  ‘Mr Pike, your pubic hair was found on a victim at the scene of a multiple murder in the early hours of Thursday morning, which provides me with sufficient justification to hold you for up to seventy-two hours.’

  ‘Surely you can see that the hair was planted, Inspector,’ Dunstan said.

  ‘Mr Dunstan, have I not made myself clear about your position here? Is there some ambiguity that you wish me to clarify?’

  ‘No, Inspector, but…’

  ‘Mr Dunstan, if you don’t stop interfering I shall charge you with obstructing a police officer, and report you to the Regulation Authority.’

  Dunstan sat back, his face red and his lips pulled tight.

  ‘Now, Mr Pike, where were you last night and the early hours of this morning?’

  ‘In bed with a woman, Inspector,’ Malachi Pike said.

  Molly noticed that Mr Pike was chewing the inside of his mouth and that he couldn’t keep his hands still in his lap. Also, he didn’t meet her eyes. ‘Name and address?’

  Frank wrote the details down as Pike spoke. The lady’s name was Yvette. Pike didn’t know her last name, and the contact address he provided was an escort agency in Kensington called Blueberry Escorts.

  ‘If you’re not the killer, Mr Pike, how do you think one of your pubic hairs found its way on the female victim?’

  ‘I’m sure it wouldn’t be hard for someone to acquire one of my pubic hairs, Inspector,’ Pike said in an offhand manner. ‘I sleep around. I don’t have a wife or a girlfriend. I prefer casual relationships. Any of the numerous women I’ve slept with could have helped themselves to one of my pubic hairs as a keepsake.’

  Molly decided that she didn’t like Malachi Pike, but she had no idea whether he was the killer or not. ‘I’d like a list of all the women you’ve been with during the past month, Mr Pike.’

  ‘That will be a long list, Inspector. I’ll need my diary, which is at the office. I can fax you the list in the morning. Do you want the names of those in New York, Brussels, South Africa…?’

  ‘Yes, all of them.’

  His mouth smiled, but his unblinking eyes were dead.

  Her phone vibrated. She stepped into the corridor and closed the door. ‘Stone?’

  ‘Perkins, Inspector.’

  ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m at Mr Pike’s flat in Kensington.’

  ‘Anything?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘What about his place of work?’

  ‘Same. If Mr Pike is your killer, Inspector, he’s hiding the evidence somewhere else.’

  ‘Thanks, Perkins.’

  ‘You’re welcome, Inspector, have a good weekend.’

  ‘As if.’ She ended the call and returned to the interview room.

  ‘You can go, Mr Pike, but don’t leave the country, I’m sure I’ll have more questions for you before too long.’

  ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Inspector. International financiers travel all over the world, but I promise you I’ll come back.’

  ‘I’m conducting a murder investigation, Mr Pike, and you are my prime suspect. If necessary, I’ll obtain a court order to confiscate your passport. Also, under Section 18 of the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, I have teams of forensics officers searching your home and office now.’

  He shrugged, but his face didn’t change.

  ‘Thank you for your co-operation, Mr Pike, we’ll be in touch.’

  ‘I’m free tonight if you’re interested, Molly?’

  She ignored him and stood up. ‘Show
Mr Pike and his solicitor out, Sergeant,’ she said as she left the interview room.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Molly checked the time as she entered the observation room. It was five twenty, and she had five minutes before she needed to go via the toilet to brief the Chief.

  ‘Make a copy of the DVD for me, Tony and put it on my desk before you go. I’ll take a look at it later. What did you think?’

  ‘Apart from Sir Richard Dunstan being a fucking twat, I think you should go home and get some sleep, Gov.’

  ‘I’m touched you care about my sleeping habits, Tony, but what did you think of Pike?’

  ‘Hard to say. He wasn’t shocked about the murders, and he didn’t appear to be a victim of mistaken identity, but that might be how he normally is. I’m surprised you let him go though. We should have held onto him for the maximum.’

  ‘There’s no point in giving Dunstan, or the press for that matter, the hammer and nails to crucify us, but there’s some things we can do. Tell Lucy to cross-reference Pike’s visits abroad with the gaps between the murders. Also, I want you to check on Pike’s property holdings. Perkins said there was nothing of any interest at his home, but maybe he’s using somewhere else to store his butcher’s axes.’

  ‘What about following him, Gov.’

  ‘He’ll be expecting us to do that. At the first sight of a copper he’ll scream police harassment, and then we won’t be able to touch him.’

  Frank returned. ‘Slimy bastard.’

  ‘Which one?’ Tony said.

  ‘Both.’ Frank replied.

  Molly stood up. ‘I need to and brief the Chief now, Frank. Knock everyone off, but tell them bright and bushy-tailed at eight-thirty tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Will do, Gov.’

  ‘Also, before you go, Frank, send a query to INTERPOL. Pike mentioned New York, Brussels, and South Africa, and he said he travels all over the world. Let’s see if he’s doing anything else besides killing deals in these places.’

  ‘Goodnight, Gov,’ she heard Tony call after her as she hurried along the corridor and up the stairs.

  She needed to smoke a life-affirming cigarette in the freezing cold of the car park, but instead she only had time for a desperate pee in the toilet before she was knocking on the Chief’s door.