Grind Their Bones

by Cross, Drew

  I flicked on the indicator and drifted off down a side road, taking a route that would keep us away from the busier roads.

  ‘That was before the information revolution. If there’s anything dark and dirty in her closet then it’ll be out in the blogosphere somewhere under an alias no doubt.’

  He pulled a sour face. The internet was both a blessing and a curse for modern police investigations.

  ‘If she’s as insular as we’re being told then we might get lucky.’

  I didn’t believe my own statement. If she was a strictly pen and paper girl then she probably wouldn’t be working in computing, and the perceived anonymity of the web made it easy for people to forget about how their movements online could be tracked without too much difficulty, but I’m an optimist most of the time so I was clinging to that small hope regardless. Please have left us something to go on Elizabeth.

  ‘You’re the boss.’

  I caught his cheeky smile in my peripheral vision as I rounded another corner at speed, and despite everything I found myself unable to stop shaking my head in mock dismay and grinning back at him.

  Chapter 43

  ‘Mrs Perry is not going to be much help to you I’m afraid.’

  Ms Diane Lamb, the ‘professional care worker’ as she’d referred to herself at least four times in the two minutes since our arrival, directed her speech solely at Lee.

  On another day I might have spoken up about her presumption that, as a man, he was automatically the senior officer here; but that assumption and her machine gun style of conversation allowed me the freedom to leave him to deal with her alone while I headed further into the house to explore.

  ‘I’ll be back with you in just a minute.’ I said, excusing myself and heading upstairs without the woman even acknowledging that I’d spoken.

  I avoided the mother’s room for now, eager to take a quick look around Elizabeth’s personal space unaccompanied, and knowing straight away which bedroom was the girls out of three possible choices from the nameplate on her door. Even without the plaque the scent of perfume and skin products emanating from that section of the house would have left little doubt that this was a younger woman’s domain.

  There was some resistance as I pushed open the door, but it proved to be nothing more sinister than a discarded bath towel, still slightly damp to the touch. An explosion of cosmetics was randomly arranged on top of an old table, together with a chipped mirror, the two seemed to function as a makeshift dressing table, and on the bed was evidence of a young lady preparing for a very big night out. I lifted the corner of the pile of discarded dresses with a biro, just in case anything in here became of evidential value further down the line. They were at the expensive end of high street, which was at odds with the description of the girl as someone who never socialised. Who were you dressing up for Elizabeth?

  Realising that I couldn’t risk spending too much time in here before somebody asked where I was and what I was up to, I opened up each of the drawers in a battered old unit in turn, hastily scanning through the contents while trying not to make too much noise. Nothing screamed out ‘diary’ to me, and the same was true of the interior of the wardrobe, even after I opened up the shoe boxes in the bottom and checked to see whether the board at the base could be lifted out. I stopped for a moment, thinking fast and then deciding on the underneath of the mattress as my best chance. Jackpot. Not a diary, but a username and password for a computer, although there was no sign of one in the bedroom itself. I decided that I’d ridden my luck enough for the time being and pocketed the scrap of paper before exiting leaving everything just as I had found it.

  ‘Elizabeth? Elizabeth? Is that you?’

  The voice came from behind the door opposite as I moved back across the landing, making me jump in surprise; the voice of a younger woman than I’d been expecting to hear.

  Footsteps approached from downstairs as Diane Lamb heard her calling and began to make her way up, followed by Lee. Forced to improvise, I chose door number three and was relieved to find that it was a bathroom. I flushed the toilet and then switched on the tap for a few seconds, counting to ten before I switched it back off and emerged onto the landing for a second time.

  ‘We’re okay to speak to Mrs Perry now.’

  Lee eyed me quizzically while the carer pushed past me towards the sound of the ill woman, and I gave him a wink as I turned to follow.

  Inside the bedroom was the scent of bleach and disinfectant, but they failed to completely mask the aroma of something rotten underneath. I tried and failed to keep my smile in place for Mrs Perry’s benefit, but swiftly realised that it didn’t matter since she was virtually oblivious to our presence.

  ‘These two people are friends of Elizabeth’s, they just wanted to ask if you know where she’s nipped out to Mary?’

  Diane tried her best on our behalf, but the sick woman stayed silent.

  ‘Okay, we’ll leave it at that for now, Diane. Just let us know if she tells you anything which might help at all later, even if it doesn’t seem particularly significant.’

  Lee smiled quickly wanting to escape this place sooner rather than later.

  ‘A rich old man to take care of us both,’ said Mrs Perry softly and looked up with fierce intensity for a long moment, meeting my brown eyes with her own virtually colourless ones, and then her head drooped back forward again and she was beyond our reach once more.

  Chapter 44

  I don’t suppose that all that many people are particularly fond of visiting hospitals, but I have an especially strong dislike for them that is born out of the unusual amount of time that my job has required me to spend in such places. I walked down the corridors of the University Hospital Coventry without needing to stop and ask anybody for directions. I’d already been told which wards both Emily and Fred Russell were being treated on and the maze of identical hallways no longer held any mysteries for me anymore. I passed signs for endocrinology, cardiology and the ENT – Ear, Nose and Throat clinic – in turn, weaving around the occasional dawdling confused straggler and the roving bands of medical staff striding with single minded intent past them.

  Finally, I reached the ‘A’ wards, designated for those who required varying levels of psychiatric assistance, stopping at a forlorn looking reception area to explain who I was and why I was here to the disinterested young man behind the desk, until he sighed and buzzed me through without attempting a single word of conversation. Psychiatric wards have come a long, long way since the times of the infamous Bedlam Hospital, where the mentally ill were viewed as good entertainment for those who could pay to see them treated like animals, and the corridors were quiet and still.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  A severe looking nurse in a grey uniform with white collar and sleeves stepped out in front of me, effectively barring my progress. Her expression suggested that she had no intention of helping me in any way whatsoever, if it could possibly be avoided.

  ‘I’ve come to visit my sister, Emily Foster, I believe she was admitted late last night.’

  I offered a placatory smile to deflect her suspicious hostility and she regarded me steadily as if weighing up what to tell me.

  ‘She’s in a quiet room of her own on the left at the very bottom of this hallway. I’m sure it would be entirely unnecessary for me to tell you that she’s in a particularly fragile state at the moment, and that anybody, family or otherwise, causing her distress would swiftly find themselves leaving my ward?’

  She carried on past me without waiting for acknowledgement, and I tried to consider what she dealt with every day so as not to feel too aggrieved. I reached Emily’s room two dozen echoing paces later and knocked softly before entering.

  Emily was awake and sitting up as I walked in, with dark rings around her sunken eyes. She was wearing a cheap hospital night dress and she looked pale, drawn and exhausted, a shadow of her former self. I fumbled for something to say, feeling intensely awkward due to the circumstances of our last con
versation and the fight that had followed, and having to look away from her distant watery gaze for fear that I’d burst into tears.

  ‘I know this is probably the most stupid thing to ask you at this minute in time, but how are you feeling?’

  I pulled up a blue hard plastic chair, designed to stop visitors getting too comfortable it appeared, and sat down beside her bed, reaching out and taking hold of a limp clammy hand.

  ‘Is there anything I can do for you, Emily?’

  I tried again, and she turned to look at me with complete blankness written on her face.

  ‘Please don’t tell David.’

  Her words came out over dry lips as a hoarse weak whisper.

  Chapter 45

  When I left Emily to go back to sleep, promising to visit again as soon as possible, I stopped by Superintendent Fred Russell’s room and looked in through a window in the door. The big man was deeply asleep, with a forest of tubes and clips connecting him to a large white and grey machine that monitored his vital signs and presumably supported certain vital bodily functions. I hovered for a few minutes, not certain what to do for him and questioning my wisdom in even being here. He’d never been the kind of man to encourage over familiarity between colleagues, and I couldn’t imagine that he’d appreciate waking up to find me sitting and holding his hand like I’d done for Emily. Mind made up, I eventually assured myself that I stayed for long enough and left him to rest undisturbed.

  Outside it was drizzling lightly and the sun was out shining through the spray. As I arrived back at my car my phone started to ring, the display showing Lee’s new personal mobile number again, although I hadn’t yet got round to programming it into my contacts list.

  ‘Hello there Detective Sergeant Mead, what can I do for you today?’

  I tried my flirtiest tones, craving some semblance of normality to replace the tension that had crept back in owing to the chaos of the last twenty four hours.

  ‘On any other day I’d answer that in full exhaustive detail, Zara, but I’m afraid there’s been another letter for you.’

  He paused, both of us knew what that meant by now and my heart sank even further.

  ‘Where did they find her this time?’

  My voice was flat and quiet as I contemplated the image of strikingly pretty young Elizabeth, still barely more than a child, mutilated, murdered and abandoned by a monster that we couldn’t seem to get close to catching.’

  ‘Obviously I have to be careful about what I say over this phone line, so you’re going to have to get over to the station for more details. But, suffice to say that while we haven’t found her yet, it’s really, really bad.’

  His careful choice of words told me that there was much more to this one than the others and I felt a hard lump growing in the back of my throat as I got into the car.

  ‘I take it the letter tells us where to find her though?’ I asked, starting up the engine and pulling away with a glance in the mirrors, not caring that I shouldn’t be driving with my phone still clamped to my ear.

  ‘In a manner of speaking, but it’s more complicated than that. I can’t say more until I see you, but there’s a welcoming committee assembling here.’

  He made a small noise down the phone that sounded oddly like he was trying not to be sick. It’s really, really bad.

  ‘Okay, I’m on my way to you now, I’ll be there in less than fifteen minutes. And Lee, if there’s even a small chance that you can do something for her then don’t wait for me to get there to give my permission okay? I trust your judgement.’

  That’s why I’ve got your name on my unofficial suspects list at home. My mind reminded me, until I pushed the uncomfortable strand of thought away and accelerated out of the hospital grounds, breaking the onsite speed limit all the way.

  I weaved neatly in between two busy lanes of traffic and bullied my way across two more in order to be able to cut back across the shortest route towards the city centre, ignoring the aggressive blast of a car horn as I did so. I’d worked some horrific cases together with Lee, some of them involving atrocious, sadistic acts of violence and sexual abuse of minors, but I couldn’t think of the last one which had caused my partner’s affected cool façade to slip aside. What on earth was I driving back towards?

  Chapter 46

  Anthropophagy has been with us for much longer than language or even so called organised, civilised society has, Zara. Our ancestors ate their dead relatives as a mark of respect, to assimilate the atoms of the fallen with their own in essence, rather than abandoning their loved ones to the ravenous depredations of wild animals that might go on to develop the ‘taste’. It was both practical and spiritual in application.

  In times of conflict throughout history man has eaten the fallen enemy for quite different reasons. Seeking to destroy their bodies completely and remove all identifiable traces of them from earth; what greater indignity to have visited upon them than to deny their friends and relatives a body to mourn, and to excrete the digested remains as waste?

  The first example is an act of love, honour and dignity, the second is one of hatred, revenge and revelry in savage bestial butchery. Both are at the core of what it is to be human, and the distinction is a relatively minor one.

  Love and hate, honour and butchery. You can decide for yourself what category provides the best fit for the actions of one who dines with and on his carefully chosen companions, treating their delicate meat as if it were the finest premium cuts of chateaubriand.

  This time I made the choice not to leave the girl to the attentions of carrion birds, insects and beasts, I could not bear the waste. So instead I chose to share her with strangers, to fuse her component parts back with the living so that she could continue her existence. I had to work fast, but you will now find her in exquisite meat parcels on the shelves of Rugby’s largest supermarket store, unless of course our ravenous brethren have consumed her completely already…

  I finished the letter and felt ripples of shock running through my body. I felt like I had been wired up to some kind of low level electrical current, and my surroundings now seemed somehow less real. The original letter was with the document examiners down in forensics, but Lee had copied down the content word for word, allowing me and those others present - Big John Dodds and Sarah Theaker from CSI – to read the full extent of the horror for ourselves. Lee had told me that it had somehow found its way into his tray, and that he’d opened it absent mindedly without seeing that it was addressed to me like all of the others. He assured me that the revelations had been kept entirely to himself, so even unhappy as I was I let his actions go unquestioned for the time being.

  ‘Just because he wrote it doesn’t mean that it’s true. It’s no secret that most psychopaths are pathological liars.’

  John Dodds spoke up first, shifting his massive frame uncomfortably in the restrictive plastic seat, ever the voice of reason and rationality even in the face of sheer insanity. He rested his gaze on me with calm solemnity, waiting for me to offer up my own opinion. His colleague watched us both, glancing from one face to the other and back again rapidly.

  ‘You’re right John, but if what he’s saying is for real and we don’t act on it right away then can you imagine the possible implications?’ I said.

  Silence reigned for long sobering moments while we all imagined the media shit storm and full scale public outrage. There would be lawsuits and widespread criticism, and that was just for starters.

  Lee still looked as queasy as he’d sounded on the phone, and I couldn’t say that I blamed him. I wasn’t feeling too clever myself. There could be an unknown number of members of the public tucking into parcels full of human flesh for dinner while we sat here playing politics and debating our options.

  ‘We tell the supermarkets immediately. Not necessarily about the nature of what we’re facing, but enough so they pull every meat pie off their shelves until we get to analyse any that seem suspect. We can’t risk just telling the biggest store and finding
out later that he made a mistake on the size of the store.’

  John suddenly burst out laughing and we all jumped. Sarah’s mouth dropped open in amazement.

  ‘I’m sorry everyone, but my wife just dropped me a text to ask what time I’ll be home for tea tonight. She’s just been shopping and she’s making meat pie and mash with an interesting and unusual looking meat that she picked up from the supermarket.’

  Chapter 47

  Ian Barratt was the General Manager for the warehouse sized supermarket in central Rugby and he was definitely not amused with our request that he remove a whole section of valuable stock from his stores shelves. He kept us both standing up in his cramped office overlooking the shop floor, but to be fair, we’d have had to share a seat even if we’d been invited to sit anyway. Lee was persisting in being uncharacteristically quiet and still, seemingly happy to defer to me while he attempted to compose himself and his thoughts.

  ‘So are you telling me or just asking me to comply with this strange and vague request?’

  His green eyes flashed with petulance behind his designer glasses and he couldn’t seem to leave his tie alone as he talked to me. The nervous activity made him look even younger than the mid to late twenties that I’d initially guessed at, like a teenager who’d borrowed his dad’s suit for a job interview and found that it didn’t quite fit comfortably.

  ‘I have no legal power to force you to do what I’m asking yet, I’d need a court order to do that, but I’m having to act very quickly on information that’s been received about that particular product in this specific store. Since I’m currently the most senior operational detective in the Warwickshire force, then I’m sure you’ll appreciate that I’ve bypassed the usual formal channels for very good reason, and that this is not a minor offence that I’m investigating.’