Witness X: ‘Silence of the Lambs meets Blade Runner’ Stephen Baxter

by SE Moorhead

  Her fingers twitch with minuscule movements, her eyeballs flick back to the instruments, the agony of being able to see them but not to reach.

  He is in total control.

  She is going to die.

  Chapter Eighteen

  SATURDAY 3 FEBRUARY 2035

  5.27 p.m.

  Will stood with one arm bent up to his mouth, tapping his lips with his index finger. He was a big man and the observation room was small. Kyra could feel the heat from his body as he focused on the screen.

  Liv Brown looked much younger than her twenty years as she sat in the harsh light of one of the more pleasant interview rooms at the station. She wore no make-up, her blonde fringe sat over her blue eyes which were wide with dismay as she sat biting her fingernails on the low sofa. Alex wore her hair loose, she’d removed her body armour and had borrowed a pink cardigan from one of the cleaners, making herself look less of a cop than Kyra had seen.

  ‘What have I missed?’ whispered Kyra, although she knew they wouldn’t be able to hear her in the interview room.

  ‘Three friends, Isabel, Liv,’ Will pointed to the screen, ‘and another girl, Ruby, met at the Farmers’ Arms, eight o’clock. She says nothing was out of the ordinary, no one giving them any hassle. She says the other girl, Ruby, ended up getting really drunk and she felt sick so they went outside. There was a man lying on the floor, looked like he was injured and the girls rowed because Isabel wanted to help the man, but Liv thought they should be looking after their friend. She was meant to meet Isabel at the gym this morning. When Isabel didn’t turn up, Liv thought she was still annoyed with her. When Isabel’s dad called her this afternoon after he came home from work, asking where Isabel was, then she realised something was wrong.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Can you tell me anything else about the man in the street?’ Alex asked Liv. ‘Was he unconscious?’

  ‘He wasn’t moving. He had blood on his head.’ She wrapped her arms around herself as though feeling a chill.

  ‘Had you seen him inside the pub that evening?’ asked Alex.

  Liv frowned. ‘I don’t think so. I thought he’d drunk too much and fallen or had a fight. He was flat out, face down.’

  Kyra whispered, ‘What if he was only pretending to be injured, made himself look vulnerable, so he could trick her? He could have waited until they were alone and then attacked her.’ There were cases in the past that she had studied, killers pretending to be injured, wearing casts, on crutches, arm in a sling, looking as though they needed help, as though they were weak and defenceless.

  Predatory.

  But Will kept his eyes on the screen.

  ‘And what happened during the argument with Isabel?’

  ‘Issy – Isabel – she’s a nurse, a student – she had a look at him and said she was going to call for a peri-med. Ruby was out of it. She kept crying that she wanted to go home and then she vomited. Issy stayed with the man and I took Ruby to hers. We didn’t even know the man.’

  ‘You left Isabel? Alone – with the man?’ Alex’s voice was neutral.

  The corners of Liv’s mouth turned down. ‘Issy said if I was going to be like that then I should go.’ Her eyes flicked up to Alex and down again. ‘She said she was going to ring Andrew. He was on shift and she would meet him at the hospital. I took Ruby home and she threw up again at her house so I stayed to clean up. I walked past the pub on my way home, but Isabel wasn’t there.’

  ‘Was the man with the head injury still there?’ asked Alex.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Going back to Andrew. Who’s that?’

  ‘Her boyfriend. He works at the hospital, he might be a peri-med, or he might just drive the ambulance, I’m not sure.’

  Tom had already said that no calls had been made from Isabel’s Commset. It had been found on the ground next to the main door of the pub.

  ‘I don’t really know him. They’ve only been seeing each other for a couple of months.’

  ‘What’s his full name?’

  ‘Andrew Harper.’ Kyra jumped as Will spoke into his Commset. ‘Harry, check out a name for me, Andrew Harper, works at the Royal University Hospital, peri-med or ambulance driver.’

  ‘We spoke to Isabel’s dad but didn’t say anything about a boyfriend,’ Alex said.

  Liv’s eyes grew wide. She bit her lip and then said, ‘He doesn’t know.’

  ‘Any reason for that?’

  Liv shrugged. ‘I’m not sure.’

  Alex made another note. ‘What was their relationship like from your perspective?’

  ‘I don’t really know. I think she preferred to keep her love life and her friends separate.’ She scrunched the tissue up in her fist.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ Kyra noticed Alex looking away again. Less intense for Liv?

  ‘That she’d see us on a Friday, and him the rest of the time.’ She paused for a moment and then said, ‘Now I think about it, he was a bit … controlling really.’

  ‘Go on,’ Alex said, looking away again, giving her space to think, Kyra thought.

  ‘Ruby and I agreed that doesn’t sound like Issy at all. She used to see us all over the weekend.’

  ‘Did anything else change? Would he stop her going certain places or wearing certain clothes?’

  Liv shook her head. ‘Not that she said.’

  ‘Andrew never threatened her or anything?’

  Tom came into the observation room at this point. He nodded at them and Will nodded back.

  Liv pondered this before answering. ‘Not threatened … exactly.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think he put a lot of pressure on her, I mean, reading between the lines.’

  ‘Pressure to do what?’

  ‘To do things his way.’

  ‘Can you think of anything else that might be relevant?’

  ‘I think he wanted her to move in with him. Issy didn’t seem keen, and, I mean, we haven’t even met him yet, but I don’t really know any more than that.’

  Alex stood up. ‘Thanks, Liv. We’ll be in touch if there’s anything else we need to know. Or if you think of something, please contact us.’

  Liv dropped her eyes for a moment. When she lifted them again, she said, ‘Am I a terrible friend? I should have stayed with her, shouldn’t I?’

  Alex put a hand on her shoulder. ‘You had a lot to deal with. You had to look after Ruby.’ After a moment, she removed her hand. ‘Did Ruby see any of this?’

  Liv took a tissue from her bag and wiped her face. ‘She wasn’t in any fit state to see anything. She says she doesn’t remember much after ten o’clock.’

  Liv stood up too, pulled her coat around her and folded her arms across her chest, head down. Alex led her to the door but, as she put her hand on the handle, Liv said,

  ‘Wait, there is something, stupid really, but it was odd. Isabel was wearing a necklace. I’ve never seen it before and when I asked her if Andrew had bought it for her, she said something weird …’

  Kyra watched as Alex stood still for a moment and then turned around slowly.

  ‘She said she’d just found it in her bedroom and she thought her dad had left it there. But it looked as though it was broken … Why would her dad do that?’

  In the observation room, Kyra, Tom and Will moved closer to the screen.

  ‘What did it look like?’ Alex asked slowly.

  ‘Like a half of a heart, with writing on it.’

  5.29 p.m.

  ISABEL

  The door opens again. He moves towards her, unties the bindings and picks her up easily, fireman’s-lift style. Her head hangs over his back. She can feel his shoulders underneath her ribcage, his arm across the back of her legs. He doesn’t feel like a big man, but he is strong. Her eyeballs swivel as she fights the drug. Her sight rests on the metal surgical tray – on an instrument with a serrated edge.

  Her eyes begin glazing over, her breathing slows as he carries her naked body up the stairs to th
e ground floor, her cheek banging rhythmically against his back. In the hallway, she catches glimpses of a white plastic front door, blinds closed against the fading daylight, a candle burning, the sickly smell of vanilla. Then he takes her up another flight of stairs, the banister a shiny white gloss. In her haze she sees photograph frames with no images and smashed mirrors, all but a few silver mosaics remaining where the glass once reflected.

  The light in the bathroom hurts her eyes. He manoeuvres to enable him to lean over the bath and half-lower, half drop, her into the water, the sound of splashing ringing in her ears. The freezing cold water steals her breath. Her muscles clench up painfully, gooseflesh crawling, burning with cold. He holds her head with one hand as he leans her body backwards into the deep water, the tap still running.

  ‘Please, please …’ she whispers, pleading, as he lets go of her.

  She doesn’t have the power to keep her face above the water, her body is so heavy with the drugs, so weak from her ordeal.

  ‘Please don’t let me drown,’ she tries to say, but no words come. Her lips, already turning blue, are shaping the words silently, her tears mingling with the bathwater as she slips beneath the surface.

  5.42 p.m.

  ‘It’s him,’ Tom said as soon as the team was back in the Hub. ‘It’s our man. Isabel was wearing a Mizpah. It’s the right time of year and it’s his style; a clean, quick abduction. She fits the pattern for the Type B victim: a student nurse, 152cm, lives at home. In the past, there’s been speculation that the killer is posing as a minicab driver, because in many of the cases, there does not seem to have been a struggle, so it would seem the vics don’t initially realise they’re in trouble, no real reason to raise the alarm. That could have been how he took her.’

  The team took a collective breath.

  ‘Will, call around the hospitals see if anyone was brought in with a head injury on Friday night or if any ambulances were dispatched to the Farmer’s Arms. We need to find that man to eliminate him from the enquiry and to find out if he saw anything, which, judging by the sound of it, is unlikely. Of course, Isabel might have taken him to hospital another way. We know she didn’t use a cab, but she might have accepted a lift from another driver. We also need to speak to people at the hospital, friends and colleagues, see if anyone saw her that night. As Liv said, she was at Ruby’s for quite a long time, longer than she expected, which means there’s a window of about an hour, 10.45 to 11.45 p.m. Harry, when you speak to the regulars later, ask if anyone saw her outside, maybe gave her a lift. Talking of which, Kyra, I’ll take you home now. The hospital is on the way. We’ll call in and get Andrew Harper’s details from Human Resources.’

  Kyra wished she’d come in her own car now, was embarrassed by the preferential treatment of getting a lift.

  Tom’s face was pale, his jaw clenched. The team watched him expectantly.

  ‘If this is Lomax’s handy work then obviously he took Isabel before we got him and he has hidden her somewhere. We need to find out where as soon as possible.’ He glanced at Kyra. ‘We could interview him again—’

  ‘There’s no point. When we arrested him, after Amelia Brigham’s death, the last year he was fully active 2021, there was another victim who was missing.’ Why couldn’t she just say Emma’s name? She could feel Alex observing her, but she focused on Tom, ‘and if he was guilty then he refused to tell us where she was – either he doesn’t know or he won’t tell. Either way, it’s pointless …’

  Will cut in. ‘But she might still be alive. If there is another killer, and he follows the pattern, then we have until Wednesday midnight. But if it was Lomax, then she might be locked up somewhere and starve to death. He’s only been back in custody for a couple of days, but who knows how long he will hold out until he tells us something.’

  ‘If he has taken her, he won’t talk,’ Kyra said. ‘In fact, it would probably only add to his feeling of power. Many killers, even when they have been arrested with no chance of release, will remain silent on where their victims are. It’s their way of being in control. Think of the high-profile cases, the ones out pretending they’re trying to help the police find the bodies after so long, but really they’re simply getting a kick out of the fact that they know.’

  ‘If there is an accomplice, he might panic and kill her anyway because Lomax has been arrested,’ added Alex.

  There was a collective shuffle, a sense of despair until Tom commanded, ‘Right, then we’d better get on. Do what we can.’ Then, to Kyra, ‘I’ll get my things from the office.’

  The team quickly moved away, and Kyra was left alone, standing in front of the timeline, the murdered women looking down on her, urging her on.

  What was she going to do, let Isabel starve to death?

  A flush of heat gathered in her stomach and spread throughout her. She hadn’t been able to save Emma, but there was no way she was going to let another woman die. Yes, she was afraid of Lomax, terrified of going into his mind. Yes, there were risks, to her own health even, and she had no idea what the MOD would do to her if they found out she was using the kit.

  But first things first, she would have to persuade Tom that this was going to work, she was going to have to talk Lomax into going through with it and she had to get access to the lab.

  And there was only one person who could help her do that.

  Chapter Nineteen

  SATURDAY 3 FEBRUARY 2035

  9.30 p.m.

  Jimmy was already at the bar when Kyra arrived. It was a quirky 90s place, blasting out tracks that she vaguely remembered her mother singing when she was a child: Oasis and Nirvana.

  ‘What’s with the last-minute drink? I thought you weren’t talking to me,’ Jimmy asked.

  ‘I’m sorry. I meant to message you. I’ve just been busy.’

  He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to face up to the fact I lost my job …’

  ‘You mean you expected a lecture?’

  She ignored this. ‘And I’ve got myself involved in a situation and I need your advice.’

  ‘My advice?’ He grimaced. ‘What do you mean got yourself involved?’

  She caught the bartender’s eye, pointed to Jimmy’s drink and motioned for two more.

  ‘Sorry, Jim, did you have plans tonight?’

  He was looking up at a nearby screen which was playing a soundless re-run of Friends.

  ‘No, I was going to stay in and mess about on my computer, one of those virtual holidays. I fancy having a look at somewhere in China.’

  The bartender delivered the drinks which they took to one of the tables in a quieter corner and sat down.

  ‘So, then?’ Jimmy sat forwards elbows on the table.

  Kyra swilled the drink around in her glass, wondering where to start. ‘You know I used to be with the police force? I’ve been in touch with a copper I used to work with.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jimmy pulled a bemused expression.

  ‘We were on a case together, the Mizpah Murders. It was … harrowing. It was one of the reasons I left working with the police. It looks like the criminal is active again.’

  His face fell. ‘I saw it on the news.’

  She took a drink. It was sharp and sweet; Sunny D, heavy on the vodka, exactly what she needed to have this conversation. She took a large gulp and a warmth spread in her stomach that travelled into her blood, quelling the anxious bees in her chest.

  ‘They think the latest victim was killed by the same guy. Tom, the copper, he wants me on the team as an advisor.’

  ‘They want you on that case? Bloody hell.’ Jimmy sat back. ‘But didn’t he kill … sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  How did she feel? Afraid, confused, frustrated?

  ‘This case … it … stayed with me all these years. When we arrested Lomax, that’s the man in prison, the one who was convicted, there was this one moment when … I thought there was a possibility he didn’t do it. I mean he’s a
brute, violent, nasty but there’s something not right.’

  ‘I’m sure the police did all they can, I mean it was their responsibility, not yours.’

  ‘I know, but I just can’t let it go.’ She took a drink and watched as he processed this.

  ‘If it was such a horrible case and made you want to leave, then why would you want to get involved again?’ he said finally.

  ‘I want to know for sure who killed my sister. What if Lomax didn’t and her killer is still out there?’ She lifted her glass to her mouth to hide the pain she was sure would show on her face.

  After a few moments, Jimmy said, ‘They think it’s the same man?’

  She threw her hands up, despairing. ‘I don’t think so. The police aren’t sure. It could be but …’ She put her glass down and locked eyes with him. ‘There’s always a second victim. Another woman has gone missing. She was wearing a Mizpah necklace. She could still be alive, trapped somewhere. Whether Lomax did it or not, she’s going to die in the next few days if we don’t find her.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I want to use CASNDRA.’

  He scanned her face.

  ‘Why … I mean … what for?’ Was that horror in his expression?

  She sat up straight, prepared to fight for it. ‘I need to know for sure who killed these women, and I need to find Isabel before it’s too late.’

  ‘I don’t …’ he began.

  ‘I need to know, Jim,’ she said, her voice quiet but determined.

  He took a drink and his eyes travelled up to the screen again, but she could tell he wasn’t watching it. An old song Emma used to love came on, ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’. It brought back memories of her sister dancing to it in the squat, the smell of joss sticks, the lights softened with chiffon scarves over the lampshades, little Molly asleep in a makeshift cot fashioned from a drawer.

  ‘How are you planning to use the tech? You can’t exactly go into the minds of the victims, they’re all dead.’ He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘God, I’m sorry.’