by SE Moorhead
Ray’s adrenaline flooded Kyra’s blood as something banged loudly against the wooden door in front of him and a half-brick came rolling over and stopped. She heard a dull metallic thud as another brick hit the car and then the sound of the hooded man crying out.
A woman ran out from the garage and flung the door shut with a bang that reverberated around the yard.
She hurried towards the rusted car.
‘Jenny! Jenny!’ she shouted desperately.
The woman had dark skin, and long black wavy hair. Her black and white striped dress was ripped down the back and hung off one of her shoulders. Her mascara had run, giving her dark panda eyes. Blood dripped from one of her arms in a steady stream and part of her torn dress was wrapped around her hand. She scrambled around the car, slipping on stones, calling, ‘Jenny! Jenny!’
But then the garage door flew open again and the man staggered out, a hand to his head, and screamed, ‘Fucking bitch!’
The woman ran off into the darkness.
A split second later, he was in pursuit.
Kyra lay back on the recliner in the lab, drained, despondent. She had not been able to see the abductor’s face, nor the registration. Ray’s eyes, poorly sighted and fuzzy with alcohol, only captured the letter B, or was it an R? And who was Elise?
However, once the man had gone, Ray grabbed his torch and tentatively clambered up and made his way into the yard. Her body, Ray’s body, tensed as he heard a noise coming from a nearby clump of bushes.
Kyra felt a rush of expectancy, but it was only a fox, its eyes flashing as they reflected the beam from the torch. She could see the swirls of light as Ray moved around; the concrete floor, blood spots against the grey, rubble and bricks strewn across the ground in the tight circle of white light. There was no sign of the other woman.
Ray began to shuffle back to his usual sleeping place, but stopped when his eyes caught something lying on the ground and he bent down to pick it up. A train rushed by, whipping up the nearby trees with a crashing sound and then everything went quiet again as the wind died.
The garage went dark briefly as though the torch had failed. Kyra became acutely aware of Ray snoring gently at her side and she tried desperately to tune back in to him. For the briefest of moments, before it disappeared for good, Kyra saw Ray’s grubby palm and on it a broken chain with a silver pendant, half a heart shape, cut with a zigzag.
A Mizpah pendant.
And then all she could hear was a loud screeching noise that went on and on, as white lights ripped through her eyes and she thought her skull would be cracked apart.
Chapter Thirty
TUESDAY 6 FEBRUARY
8.44 p.m.
Kyra came up out of the transference gasping for breath, her head spinning, her heart pounding. She felt like Dorothy who had been deposited in Oz by the twister, everything suddenly in bright Technicolor, startling and overwhelming. All around her there were screeching noises, flashing lights and images of faces – Molly, her dad, Lomax and Caylee Carmichael – swirling in her vision.
Right in front of her stood Tom, the headset in his hand. Behind him, Jimmy, his face pale.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Tom asked.
Kyra vomited violently and it splattered on the floor at his feet, covering Tom’s shoes. His eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw.
The room was still spinning, her ears filled with white noise. Another surge of nausea overcame her. She put her hand to her mouth. When she was able to speak again, she pointed at the headset and muttered, ‘What the fuck, Tom?’
‘What are you doing here?’ Tom indicated Ray, who was snoring gently, slack-mouthed, peaceful as though unburdened. Maybe Jimmy was right and more than just memories had been transferred. There was accusation in Tom’s eyes.
Marcus, obviously agitated by the intrusion, watched from the other side of the glass wall. Alex held him back.
Emma immediately appeared, standing next to Alex and Marcus, her face grey, her milky pupils staring blindly at Kyra above the tight silver duct tape. She held her arms up as if to put her hands on the wall, instead her bleeding stumps streaked the glass.
‘Jimmy, what the hell are you doing letting him take me out of a transference like that? Do you know the damage he could have done?’
Her stomach roiled again and she swallowed hard. Emma appeared on this side of the wall and then took a few steps closer towards her, splashes of blood marked her trajectory across the lab floor.
‘How did you know I was here?’ Kyra glared at Alex, feeling betrayed. ‘You back-stabber! I thought you were on my side! You said you wanted to help me find my sister’s killer when all the time you were spying on me for Tom!’
‘Kyra, it’s not like that!’ Her voice was muffled by the glass between them.
‘Save it!’ Was there no one Kyra could trust? She wanted to get away from them all. She tried to get up from the recliner, her legs new-lamb-weak, her head heavy as though she was still under alcoholic influence. Despair started to build up in her, the weepy self-pity of a drunk. This was coming from Ray, not her.
Jimmy pushed her down gently. ‘Lie back, I need to check you over.’ As she complied, Emma loomed closer. Kyra tried to look away, but the familiar smell of her sister’s perfume wafted over her and with it came a cloud of memories that rendered her momentarily mute.
Jimmy snapped at Tom, ‘You shouldn’t have done that. It’s dangerous to take someone out of a transference!’
Tom ignored him and ordered Marcus to come and collect his father.
Still feeling the effects of the alcohol Ray had drunk, Kyra rubbed her hand briskly over her face and noticed there was a ring on the third finger of her left hand. She examined the plain gold band. What had she seen in his memory again? She closed her eyes for a few minutes and listened to Marcus’s gentle reassurances as Ray took his time to come around and Jimmy helped Marcus take his father into the foyer to recover.
When Kyra raised her head again, she saw Emma standing right next to Tom. She looked back at her hand and the wedding ring had disappeared. Her sister was still there, but Tom seemed to have no awareness of her.
‘Alex, get in here!’ Tom bellowed.
Reluctantly, Alex pushed open the glass door and stood in front of Tom.
‘Alex, what the hell are you doing? What were you thinking?’ Tom asked.
‘I’m sorry, sir. Damage limitation. I thought Kyra was going to cause embarrassment and get herself into trouble.’
Her eyes were downcast.
No wonder she won’t look at me.
‘And you didn’t think to tell me?’ Tom barked.
Alex hadn’t told him after all.
But Kyra knew that the ambition Alex had displayed when trying to find the real killer was going to work against her now. Alex wasn’t going to risk her job. She would probably tell Tom everything, wouldn’t she, to keep on the right side of the boss?
‘I was going to, sir, but the opportunity hadn’t arisen.’
‘Go home. See me in my office at eight tomorrow morning.’
So how had Tom known?
Kyra couldn’t focus her eyes on anything – was it a hangover or a migraine? – but she knew Emma was still nearby. That overpowering perfume.
Jimmy came back into the lab.
‘Marcus has taken Ray home.’
Tom shook his head. ‘I’ll have to go and see them about this tomorrow.’ He scratched his chin. ‘This is an absolute mess, Kyra. I can’t believe you’ve done this.’
‘How did you get in?’ Jimmy asked her.
‘I took my keys back when we did the transfer with Lomax.’
Jimmy shook his head. ‘Jesus, if Carter finds out … What the hell are you playing at? He’ll take legal action. God knows what the MOD would do if they knew! I warned you about the side effects.’
‘You don’t get it!’ she groaned.
‘What have you done to yourself?’ He tried to look into her eyes with the transill
uminator, but she pushed him away angrily. ‘You’re going to kill yourself if you go on like this.’
‘What do you care, Jimmy? I asked you if you’d help me and you wouldn’t! That’s why I asked Alex and now Tom knows, so that’s the end of it now, I’ll never be able to solve …’
‘She didn’t tell me,’ Tom said.
Kyra swivelled round to face him.
‘I did,’ Jimmy said solemnly.
Cosmo, Jimmy’s computer, of course. Kyra should have known. It hadn’t even occurred to her to disable it. She probably couldn’t have gotten past the security anyway.
‘I’ve got a screen at my place, for security,’ Jimmy said sheepishly. ‘I saw you come in and … I panicked.’
‘He rang me at the station, had a right bloody go at me.’ Tom jabbed his finger towards Jimmy but kept his eyes on Kyra. ‘Asked me what the hell I was doing putting you through this … especially after he had told me about how dangerous it is … blaming me for you being here—’
‘What the hell did you do that for, Jimmy?’ she yelled. Her arm shot out and grabbed a mug sitting on the work surface next to her recliner, her mug, the one he had bought her, and she threw it at him. He ducked and it missed, smashing against a piece of equipment, the fragments raining down quietly on the rubber floor. Kyra didn’t know who was more shocked. Anger and shame made her turn away from him. What was happening to her?
But then she began to feel a giggle building up inside her. Where the hell was that coming from? Her mind was bobbing in a drunken haze and everything seemed ridiculous. She’d been trying to fight it, to stay sober, but it was easier to give in to it now. The feeling that this was the funniest thing ever swelled up and the next moment she was roaring with laughter.
The two men stared at her, horrified.
‘Why are you two so serious? Look at you both, standing there like angry dads catching your kid out doing something they shouldn’t be! Chill out!’ She tried to look at her reflection in the glass wall. ‘Am I slurring my words? Don’t worry, it’s just that Ray was drunk. It’s got to me.’
She giggled as they looked on, at a loss. Jimmy moved away into a corner of the lab.
So what? She thought. Bloody grass!
Then just as soon as the giddy, silly feeling had come over her, it rolled away again and a black mood crashed over her. Shit, how could she make them believe her if she was acting crazy?
Sober now, she sat up with some difficulty and rubbed her eyes.
‘I saw the whole thing, Tom. Ray saw Jennifer Bosanquet and—’
‘I’ve had enough of this now!’ he snapped angrily. ‘I don’t believe you’re seeing anything other than what you want to see.’
Her mind now sharp again, it became urgent that he believed her. ‘Tom, there were two women at the garage. I saw them both. It was Jennifer Bosanquet. I saw her, clearly.’
‘And I suppose you saw Madelyn Cooper too.’ Was that sarcasm?
‘I don’t know who it was, but she threw a brick. It hit the killer’s car. She got away. This woman, she was dark-skinned. I’ve never seen her before. It certainly wasn’t Madelyn. But she saw the killer and she escaped. Don’t you realise what this means? That there’s another witness somewhere!’
An expression of distaste crossed Tom’s face. ‘No, you’re wrong. This machine – it’s all bullshit. Madelyn’s hands were found with Jennifer’s body. There was no other woman. It’s not his MO, you said so yourself, to take two women at once.’
‘Killers adapt, Tom. He might have tried it and it didn’t work. She got away!’
He turned to leave.
‘Jennifer Bosanquet was there, I’m telling you. Ray definitely saw her. There was another woman with her before she died. I think Madelyn was the Mizpah killer’s second attempt that year.’ That poor girl huddling against the car. ‘Jennifer wasn’t so lucky.’
He spun around. ‘There certainly were no victims who had dark skin. Jesus, Kyra, you’re the profiler! You told us back then that serial killers go for their own ethnic group. They were your words.’
‘There’s always exceptions, and until we know the reason he is killing his victims then we don’t know who he would go for. He could go for anyone! That’s why this is so confusing! He has two types. For two very different reasons, neither of which we know!’
He moved back closer to her.
‘If there had been another witness, she would have come forward back then. You’ve got to let this go …’
‘I can’t let it go, Tom, it’s the only thing we’ve got. There’re lots of reasons why witnesses don’t come forward. You know that! She must have been terrified. If we can find this woman, then we have a new witness. Someone who was up close and personal with the killer. She could tell us where this garage is, give us more detail about the man, the car. It might lead us to him.’
He scratched the side of his jaw. She could hear his nails scraping against his five o’clock shadow. She knew him too well. The full hangover was kicking in now. She wanted to lie down and block out the light, but it was paramount Tom believed her.
‘I’m telling you, I saw her!’ she roared. Jimmy stayed back in the shadows.
A look passed between the two men. Tom patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry, you’re bound to feel a little emotional after that.’
‘Don’t bloody patronise me,’ she snapped, pulling her hand away and rubbing it where he had touched her. ‘You think I’m mad.’
‘It’s not that.’
‘You clearly fucking don’t believe me!’
‘Take it easy, Kyra.’ There was an edge of threat in his voice.
‘Don’t tell me to take it easy! Do you know what I’ve just seen? And I couldn’t do a damned thing to help. And now you’re not even bloody listening to me!’
‘What if it’s not Ray’s memories that you saw at all? Only things you want to see?’ he said. ‘We’re all desperate to catch him. We don’t need any wrong leads that will waste time. We’ve only got until tomorrow before … We don’t have the luxury of time to follow false leads or to be running down blind alleys.’
She knew it was his frustration talking, but it stung.
‘Why would my brain make that up? She was there. She was a mess, her clothes torn, her arm was bleeding, her make-up was all over her face …’
But his doubts made her question herself.
‘Could you tell where the garage was?’
‘No. It was too dark to see much detail. But a train went past, as Ray said.’
‘It could be anywhere in London!’
‘I’m telling you, I saw the necklace just as he said. It was a Mizpah. Can’t we look into it?’
‘Kyra, listen to yourself! Ray says stuff, it’s been in your mind for over a decade, you forget some of it and then it pops up in your brain, but you think you’re reading his mind.’ His voice trailed off. ‘You’re the psychologist.’
‘But we’ve done all the experiments, this works!’ She looked over to Jimmy, but he wouldn’t return her gaze. ‘Tom, why are you being like this now?’
‘I wanted something more concrete, that’s all.’
Her head was throbbing. She wanted to go home to bed, log off for the next twelve hours or so. But tomorrow night was the night Isabel was due to die. She had to keep fighting, for Isabel’s sake. She clambered off the recliner, legs still weak, feeling dizzy. She staggered towards the door.
‘Let me help you,’ Tom said, swiftly coming to her side.
‘I think you’d better go,’ Kyra snapped. ‘You asked for my help, remember, but now it looks as though you don’t want it.’
He called after her, but she went into the toilet, shut the door and leaned against it, tears springing from her eyes. She went to the sink to rinse her mouth out. Her face was pale in the mirror, her eyes bloodshot. She thought of all the things that she had sacrificed so far – she had lost her job and her tech, Molly hated her, Jimmy didn’t want to know and Tom didn’t believe her.
/> She wasn’t giving up now. With or without Tom, she would find out who this woman was.
At that moment, her Commset rang.
Alex.
‘Kyra, please, I’m sorry. I didn’t tell Tom anything, but when he was there I had to make up an excuse. I said the first thing that came into my head, pretended I was keeping an eye on you, but it isn’t true, honestly.’
‘I know, Alex. Jimmy told me.’
She could hear Alex sigh on the other end.
Screw Tom, she thought. In for a penny, in for a pound, her dad used to say. She wasn’t going to give up now, not when she might have the only lead and just over twenty-four hours to save Isabel. At least she felt sober now, although her head was still throbbing.
‘You know when you were looking through case files, did you come across any activity that might be our suspect, before the killing started – reports of violence, kidnap, maybe young women, someone working illegally in the sex trade?’
‘I could have a look.’ Alex sounded curious now. ‘I’m at the Hub.’
‘Great. Check out an incident at a garage, February, near the time Jennifer Bosanquet was murdered.’
‘You think it might lead to our man?’
‘I think there might be something that we’ve missed. But listen to me, Alex. Tom can know nothing about this. If you don’t want to, if you think it’s not worth the risk of getting into more trouble …’
‘No, no, I want to. I’ll be in touch as soon as I find anything.’
‘Great, speak later.’
Kyra examined her reflection in the mirror and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. Standing right behind her, almost close enough to touch, Jennifer Bosanquet smiled.
8.59 p.m.
She is a beautiful girl.
Seventeen, eighteen with striking golden eyes.
Eyes that will see Elise.
It’s warmer than usual tonight but she is shivering as she leans against the wall opposite CarterTech, holding a denim jacket which she wrings in her hands.
I ask if she is okay, ask her why she is standing in a dark side road at this time of night. Does she need any help?