by Cross, Drew
Hardwick stopped talking and gave a small shy smile. Was it possible that the man was star struck?
‘Very astute of you, Doctor. And now we stand here, two men with a common interest I believe. So just exactly what do you want from me?’
He began to undo the clips on the backpack, reaching inside to remove the contents and starting to place them on the top of the desk.
‘I want the opportunity to gain an insight into you, to establish the details of who you are, what forces shaped your earlier life, and what you do when you’re alone with your victims, as well as getting your take on why that is.’
He paused for a moment and then delivered the punch line.
‘I want to be the first man in my field to conduct a detailed examination of an active serial killer who is still at large, and in return I will keep my findings entirely to myself until such time as you are incarcerated or die. Regrettably, they are statistically speaking very likely to catch you at some point, even without my help. Although I’ll ensure that I am of no use whatsoever to their investigation in the meantime.’
The small man smiled again, looking immensely pleased with himself.
‘And what use are those findings to you at that point, Doctor?’
The killer finished removing the last of the items from his bag.
‘They’ll be going into my book about you of course. Along with details of the revised psychological report that I prepared after the first version, which was almost completely accurate, and which was roundly ignored by my police colleagues who chose instead to consider me as a potential susp…err…what are you doing?’
Hardwick’s sentence tailed off as he noticed the length of rope in the other mans hands.
‘Showing you my equipment, Doctor; the tools of my trade if you will. If you want to understand what I do, then it’s important for you to see this next part for yourself.’
He formed a loop with the rope and fashioned a slipknot before deftly swinging it over the seated Doctor and pulling it tight in one practiced fluid movement.
‘I’m not sure that this is entirely necessary…’
The incapacitated man started to protest feebly, growing increasingly concerned. The intruder ignored him.
‘I was privileged to visit Morocco last year, a beautiful place full of all manner of curious delights, particularly of the culinary kind, and for that reason it’s a place that features high on any true gourmand’s wish list. Have you been?’
He looped the rope around the back of the chair several times, pulling it tight enough to constrict Hardwick’s breathing.
‘Not yet. That’s a bit tight by the way.’
The captive man’s face was already beginning to change colour.
‘You should have done. They have one delicacy that’s not for the squeamish, but which is surprisingly good if you're prepared to take the plunge. It involves feasting on a whole roasted sheep, something which they do socially and communally. Do you know which parts they consider to be the best?’
He paused to allow the Doctor opportunity to reply.
‘Remember about that envelope lodged with my solicitor.’
Panic started to fill Hardwick’s expression and he struggled feebly against his bonds as he spoke with a rising pitched voice.
‘The eyes and tongue, Doctor…which are considered to be so good that they are sometimes eaten fresh and raw.’
Chapter 20
It was technically my day off, so I'd been looking forward to spending some time kicking back and relaxing at home. But I didn't trust myself to hold my tongue around Emily, so I showered and dressed early before heading out into the irritatingly cheerful morning to catch breakfast away from the house. Lee rose with me, stopping to ask whether we should really be leaving her to wake up to an empty house, and prompting me to leave a terse note explaining our absence, along with a spare key in case she decided to head out for some air too.
'So where are we heading?'
I was moving at a fast march, putting distance between myself and my sister, something that I'd been trying to do continuously without much success since childhood, and Lee was looking bemused by my haste.
It wasn't that I hated her, after all she'd never done anything deliberately designed to hurt me, but she'd had an unfortunate knack of attracting trouble for as long as I could remember, and I preferred a less complicated existence. I knew I couldn't express that sentiment to Lee without sounding cold and unkind, but life was always that bit more difficult with Emily and her host of problems around, circling like sharks on the periphery. I'd met many people like her over my years in the police force, and it was never their fault, but ultimately they always ended up as another one of life's born victims.
'I need coffee so strong you could stand a spoon up in it and something disgustingly sweet and pastry based for breakfast. Any suggestions?'
I turned my head to look at him and he mimicked my scowl, lightening my mood instantly.
'There, that's better. You could pass for thirties again now!'
He dodged the punch that I aimed at his arm.
'I vote for the Pump Rooms. They'll just about be opening up by the time we get there, although at the speed you're moving I could always hop on your back and you could sprint down the motorway to London instead if you prefer!'
He laughed and earned another begrudging smile from me in return.
'Pump Rooms it is then, but I reserve the right to bitch about my sister when we get there, whether you like it or not, okay?'
He nodded his assent and we fell into easy silence for the rest of the stroll, moving along scarcely populated streets and admiring the predominantly Georgian buildings. I didn't bother to slow my pace, trying to punish him for laughing at my expense, and we covered the mile and a half to the handsome Royal Pump Rooms, responsible for Leamington's 'Spa town' tag, in a little less than half an hour.
Once seated inside I headed for a window seat in view of a flat screen television up on the wall that was playing the local news, while Lee went to sort out our breakfast order of coffee and assorted pastries. The volume was down low so I couldn't quite catch what was being said, but I recognised the background behind the stern faced reporter as being Rugby town centre, since I'd spent many days and nights on foot patrol there when I was back in uniform.
'Excuse me…'
I waited impatiently for the smiling young girl serving Lee to acknowledge my presence, but it took her a moment to finish fluttering her eyelashes at him for long enough to register my voice.
'Could you turn this up please, there's something I want to hear for a minute.'
She nodded and produced a remote control from under the counter, turning it up just enough for me to catch the detail of the report.
‘Local people are baffled as to why this particular building, home to the solicitors firm Johns Gilbert and Frankton, was targeted, but the firebomb almost completely destroyed the premises before fire-fighters were able to get it back under control.’
Lee wandered back over with a plate of croissants, Belgian buns and chocolate twists, looking up at the screen to see what had piqued my interest.
'The coffees are coming over in a minute. What's up?'
He set the plate down in front of me and helped himself to a croissant.
'Can you think of any earthly reason why somebody would want to destroy a solicitor's office?'
I eyed up one of the Belgian buns and then changed my mind and went for a chocolate twist.
'Lord knows I've wanted to every time they get some little scumbag off the hook to continue leaving a trail of destruction. But, no, it's not something you see everyday, I suppose.'
We didn't get chance to continue the conversation, as both of our phones began to ring in unison.
Chapter 21
The scene in Doctor Hardwick's office was horrifying.
Thick clots of gore had been smeared across the impressive bank of certificates on his wall and a fine spray of blood see
med to coat every available surface. I could almost taste it in the air. The windows had been left open all around the vast house, and fat summer flies danced a lazy bloated waltz around what was left of the Doctors face. I fought hard not to look at it again, but found that I was unable to keep my eyes off his corpse for more than a few moments at a time, and eventually opted to leave the room to compare notes with the crime scene investigators.
'Any initial thoughts?'
I walked up to the giant form of John Dent, who was filling out labels for items of potential evidential value that he'd seized.
'Well, don't quote me on it yet, but I'd say that he's definitely dead.'
He grinned, showing off teeth the size and general colour of tombstones.
'Why do you think he took out the eyes and tongue?'
I tried again, hoping for some spark of an idea that might tell me what the doctor's death was all about.
'If you wanted to be literal about it, it could be punishment for something he'd seen and then talked about, perhaps. Then again, he came into contact with a lot of crazies, so it could just be that they had a fixation and decided to keep those parts as trophies. You tell me, you're the Detective, I'm just here to clean up.'
Dent looked thoughtful as he replied. Many people find him caustic and difficult at times, but I didn't think there was any real malice behind the words, just statement of fact.
'Thanks John, believe it or not I think you just helped.'
I smiled at his furrowing brow.
'I assure you it was completely unintentional, Wade, so don't go spreading that around, I've got a rep to maintain.'
We were disturbed by the sound of footsteps approaching. Lee holding a plastic wallet with an envelope inside. The neat lettering on the front was immediately familiar.
'It was him.'
He didn't need to elaborate on who he was talking about, but I mentally struggled to reconcile the carnage in the office with the controlled and staged scenes that we'd grown accustomed to at the Grey Man's previous murders.
'If it was then this was entirely different for him. There was nothing in there that looked controlled to me this time.'
I thought about the pulp that now constituted a face, with empty hollows as eyes and a tongueless mouth stretched wide open, frozen into an agonised final scream. Yes he was a vicious psychopathic sadist, he excised chunks of flesh from still living victims and then cooked and ate it in front of them, but everything that we’d seen before was done in an altogether more orderly fashion. This was a different kind of butchery, not simply about excising the tasty parts. The Doctor pissed him off.
‘That answers the question about where the other bits of his face went anyway. If we can come up with something clever to explain what happened this time round then we’ll stand an infinitely better chance of catching him. Anybody got any ideas?’
Lee looked thoughtful as he spoke, looking in my general direction but straight through me at the same time.
‘The most obvious one is that he didn’t like the psych profile. Perhaps it was too close to the truth for comfort and he started to view the Doctor as a threat?’
John Dent offered over the top of his considerable shoulder, as he stuck the last of his labels on a container and then walked away.
‘Maybe, but after my chat with Hardwick I’d put my pension on it that he was hiding something, and that profile was just all wrong on every level. I guess it could be that the killer was offended by the press release, most psychopaths have egos the size of small planets, and they don’t need excuses to add to their tally.’
I felt that needling feeling that signalled the start of a connection again, but it remained maddeningly just out of reach.
‘He had a computer in his office when I visited, did you see anybody seize it?’
I didn’t see any of the tech guys at the scene, and with John Dent presiding over things, CSI wouldn’t just grab it without making us aware of that. Lee shook his head and frowned.
‘JOHN, JOHN?’
I shouted at the back of Dent who was exiting through the front door and he turned back around. The niggling feeling was growing much stronger now. Whatever had prompted this visit had been on Hardwick’s computer.
Chapter 22
The turmoil after the discovery of Alan Hardwick’s body, and the scrabble for meaning after my subsequent realisation that the Grey Man had taken his personal computer, made me all but forget about my sister’s presence in my house. Lee took the cowards way out and made his excuses at the end of a frustrating extended shift, and left me to return home to deal with her alone. It was starting to get dark as I quietly opened the door and let myself in, so I expected her to be tucked up in bed, at least I hoped she would be. So it would be an understatement to say that I was surprised when she greeted me in the hallway with a glass of wine and ushered me along to the neatly set dining table.
‘I didn’t know when you’d be home, and I didn’t want to bother you at work by calling to ask, so I’ve gone for things that are quite simple to do.’
She fussed around in a flurry of activity before disappearing back into the kitchen. I was already beginning to feel guilty about my blistering appraisal of her to Lee earlier, when she re-emerged with elegantly presented starters on my best plates, and the guilt deepened.
‘It’s pan-seared loin of tuna with a mustard and dill crust on a salad of mixed baby leaves and herbs. The main course is a mixed seafood linguini, you really are spoiled for choice with fresh ingredients around here.’
Momentarily speechless I took a mouthful of the fish and started to chew. It was absolutely delicious.
‘When did you learn to cook like this? It’s superb, by the way, thank you.’
I avoided meeting her eyes, trying hard to hang on to my resentment towards her uninvited intrusion into my world, and not wanting to watch her smile with pleasure at the first complement I’d given her in recent memory.
‘David adores fine food and drink, he’s practically obsessive about it, and my initial efforts when we first got together weren’t entirely palatable! So I took classes over the internet while he was away on business, followed by a few hands on night classes at a local catering college, and now I’m starting to get pretty good.’
I glanced up as she mentioned his name, trying to gauge her general mood after the previous night’s histrionics. She looked despondent, but mercifully the tears stayed well away this time. Ironically, for somebody in my chosen profession, I’ve never been much good at comforting distressed people. I prefer to catch the animals who cause the distress in the first place, and then see to it that they pay for their actions with years of their lives spent in a lonely cell.
‘Well you should be proud of yourself, Emily, this is as good as I’ve eaten in any swanky restaurant.’ I forced a smile this time and looked across at her. ‘I definitely didn’t get the cooking gene from Mum, I could burn water, but thankfully Lee’s more in your league in that respect so I don’t starve. Do you want to talk about what’s going on at home?’
I took another forkful of tender tuna and herbs to hide my discomfort as the silence started to stretch out.
‘No, not just yet, if that’s okay? I’m happy being here for a break and getting away from it all for a few days for now. Not that I’m planning on treating you like an hotelier.’ She took a quick sip of her wine and glanced at me before continuing. ‘Thank you for this, for letting me stay, I mean. I couldn’t face any more questions from Mum and Dad right now, and I knew you wouldn’t pry like they do, not with everything that you’ve got going on.’
I raised my own glass in acknowledgement, smiling again to let her know she was welcome. The deep red liquid looked like blood in the dim light, and I thought of the monster in human form still out there who apparently toasted his dinner companions in much this same way, and I silently promised them that I’d catch him no matter what.
Chapter 23
The Grey Man letters were never opened
and read at the scenes. They were always sealed in ordinary everyday envelopes of the variety that could be purchased in any high street stationers, and so far they had all been utterly devoid of anything that could be of evidential value in identifying the killer, beyond the obvious fact that they were handwritten. However, there was always that small chance that he’d slip up, so the forensics team conducted their examinations of the documents before they were released to me. I’d tried to hard to find ways to keep myself occupied while I awaited receipt of the latest one, but patience is not one of my virtues, and I was slowly driving Lee mad with a string of unanswerable questions about the case.
‘What are the possible motives for him killing Doctor Hardwick?’
I was pretty much just thinking aloud, but Lee sighed deeply and stopped what he was doing, turning his chair away from the computer to answer me.
‘Well, we now know how much debt the doctor had managed to amass, so there could be a motive in there somewhere, but it seems highly unlikely. The smart money’s got to be on the profile and the press release pissing our psycho off, and prompting a visit either because it was too close to the truth, or because it was deemed to be offensive by the killer somehow.’
He massaged two days worth of stubble with his thumb and forefinger and looked past me into the distance.
‘So we’re agreed that the key to this one’s in that profile somewhere?’
I waited for him to nod his assent and then carried on.
‘And we’re both agreed that the profile’s got to be wrong…?’
He nodded again, more impatiently now.