by Ellis, Tim
‘Hoddesdon have a complaints procedure if you’re interested.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
They both had a fry-up and then went back to the station. Xena told Carter to go up to the squad room while she walked along to operations and found Kristina Jackson – the Duty Sergeant.
‘Can you get two of your guys to hump some boxes upstairs to the MIT?’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m asking you to.’
‘Yeah, I’ve heard about you, Blake.’
‘All good, I expect.’
‘All bad.’
‘Well, at least they’re leaving someone else alone.’
‘And you haven’t got any men up in MIT?’
‘None worth bragging about.’
‘Sorry. We run an equal opportunities policy down here.’
‘Which means?’
‘Hump the boxes yourself.’
Xena’s eyes creased to slits. ‘So you expect two females – a DI and a DS – to hump boxes upstairs while you’ve got men sat on their fat arses doing fuck all?’
‘In your opinion. My men are resting their weary bodies.’
‘I won’t forget this, Jackson.’
‘I look forward to our next run-in, Blake.’
Fuck! She’d get even with Jackson one of these days. Now she had to lug two of the boxes up to the squad room herself. Unless... She pulled out her phone and rang Stick... It sent her to voicemail.
‘Where the fuck are you, Stick? The one time I need you, and you’re nowhere to be found. I’m back from the arsehole of the world. Remember, we’ve got to brief the Chief at three and there’s a press conference at four. I want to know what the fuck you’ve been doing while I’ve been away working my fingers to the bone. Ring me, or better still, get your arse back to the squad room.’
At the car, she chose the lightest box and took that up to the squad room.
‘You need to carry two boxes up,’ she said to Carter.
‘Aren’t there any...?’
‘Where do you think I’ve been?’
‘I have no idea.’
‘Just go and get the fucking boxes, and let’s find out what we’ve got.’ If she’d known the trouble they were going to cause, she’d have left the damned things in that basement underneath Charlie Higgins’ Second-Hand Emporium.
Eventually, they had the four boxes stacked on the table. Xena was buggered and breathing hard. It was quarter to three.
To re-create what had led Stephen Samuels to 117 Hobbs Cross they needed the photographs she had sent from York by courier. She went back into the squad room and checked her desk. A brown envelope was sitting there from Di Heffernan with her photographs inside. On Stick’s desk she found the files of Julie Cooper from Norwich, Janet Gray from Hartlepool, and Jan Hayes from Southend, which also contained a DVD.
‘Fuck knows where Stick is,’ she said when she returned to the incident room.
She took the photographs out of the envelope and then rang Di Heffernan.
‘What the fuck...’
‘DS Blake, I wondered how long it would take you to ring me once you got back. And before you ask, no we haven’t found any more bodies yet, but I can tell you that we’re on the last part of the grounds now.’
‘Never mind the bodies, what the fuck happened to the photographs?’
‘Do you know anything about low resolution, pixilation, or vectorisation?’
‘Not a fucking thing.’
‘Then it’s not worth explaining to you the problems associated with converting non-digital media to digital. Unfortunately, the photographs you sent were taken with one of those early throw-away cameras. As soon as my people tried to enlarge the detail, the image began to break up. What you’ve got is the very best we can do.’
‘But I can’t read anything that’s on them.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I feel as though I’ve been conned out of two boxes of chocolates.’
‘Sadly, we don’t offer refunds.’
‘Well, you fucking should. You owe me.’
‘I don’t think so, DS Blake. We fulfilled our part of the contract...’
‘What you’ve produced is rubbish.’
‘In forensics, that sometimes happens. We can only work with the material we’re given. Garbage in, garbage out. If you hadn’t given us garbage, you wouldn’t have had garbage returned to you.’
‘So, it’s my fault.’
‘I think we’ve reached the crux of the problem.’
‘I’m going to...’ She ended the call before she said something that might get her into trouble, and then she squeezed the phone until her hand hurt.
‘I probably could have told you...’ Carter began.
Xena gave her a withering look. ‘I wouldn’t say what you were going to say, because I’m looking for somebody to torture and kill.’
Carter closed her mouth.
After a couple of minutes Xena examined the incident board. ‘Stick found out who the Southend victim was. God knows what the fuck he was doing ringing Baffin Island though. Is that even a place in this universe? Anyway, it’ll come out of his pay unless he can justify why he did that. And the DVD apparently is from the Royals shopping centre in Southend, and shows the abduction of Jan Hayes.’ She checked her watch. ‘Right, I’ve got to go and brief the Chief, and then I’ve got a press briefing. You watch the DVD to see if it tells us anything, and then start going through the boxes and putting everything in piles. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
‘You’re the boss.’
‘Yes I fucking well am, and don’t you forget it. If you have the urge to solve my case while I’m gone – resist it.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
As they were walking through the busy hospital reception Parish’s phone began playing The William Tell Overture.
‘Tell me you’re the bearer of good news, Toadstone?’
‘I don’t think another body could be classified as good news, Sir.’
‘Are the hands missing?’
‘Yes they are. How...?’
Parish sighed. ‘Despite the lack of evidence found by the forensic department, Richards and I still manage to solve cases, Toadstone. Give me the location?’
‘There’s an old disused pumping station just off Sedge Green on the way to Dobb’s Weir and Broxbourne Sailing Club. It’s close to the road, so you can’t miss it.’
‘Any idea who the victim is?’
‘Not yet. A male, early forties.’
‘Have your flourescein and black light ready.’
‘Oh?’
‘I’ll tell you when we get there.’
‘You’re really mean to him, Sir.’
‘Somebody has to make sure he stays focussed.’
In the car, he told Richards to ring Father Rosario and ask him to meet them at the station at three-thirty.
‘You don’t think it’s him, do you?’
‘What do you think?’
‘There should be a law about answering a question with another question.’
He grinned. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘No, I don’t think Father Rosario is the person we’re looking for.’
‘Killers often try to inveigle their way into a police investigation.’
‘Except, we were the ones who contacted him to help us with Ruben’s murders.’
‘That could have been a ruse.’
‘Hardly. How do you think he can help us?’
‘I’m clutching at straws, and he’s the first straw on the list. As I see it, we have two possible scenarios. Either, the man is – or was – a member of the clergy, in which case Father Rosario might have some idea who we’re looking for. Or, he’s impersonating a member of the clergy, in which case we need to query the database.’
‘You’re good at that?’
‘It’s very nice of you to say so – What?’
‘Making big problems simple.’
‘Years of practice
.’
During the journey they grabbed a sandwich from a bakers on the A121, and ate it on the way. They arrived at the disused pumping station at quarter to two. It was a flat-roof brick building with small broken metal-framed windows, graffiti on the walls, and an iron door. Inside, there were curtains of cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, rusting wheels, gears and steel blocks were still in-situ, and the stench of sewage hung in the air like fog.
‘I couldn’t wait,’ Toadstone said.
‘I see, so you’ve seen the tetragrammaton?’
‘Yes.’
‘On the torso?’ Richards asked.
‘Yes.’ He signalled his people to switch the lights off and turned the black light on.
‘The same as the others,’ Parish said.
Toadstone scratched his head. ‘I don’t understand. I killed Ruben Millhaven. It must be a copycat killer.’
‘We’ve discovered that there was a second person in that cellar.’
Toadstone’s brow creased up. ‘When we arrived?’
‘Obviously not. He left before we got there.’
‘That explains a lot.’
‘It always concerned me that Ruben had a low IQ, and yet he was sending us messages in ancient languages. Now we know why.’
‘He was there in my memory,’ Richards said. ‘I saw him, but I didn’t understand what I was seeing. He wore a white collar.’
‘A member of the clergy...’ Toadstone’s eyes opened wide. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘So, anything else out of the ordinary?’ Parish asked.
‘Well, we’re waiting for Doctor Paine to arrive, but I had a quick look to see if I could find the message.’
‘I’ll have to keep an eye on you,’ Parish said. ‘You’ll be doing another post mortem before long.’
‘After the earful the Chief Constable gave me the last time, that would be unlikely.’
‘So, did you find the message?’
Like a magician’s apprentice, he produced a plastic evidence bag with the note in. ‘It was pushed up his anus.’
‘That’s not very nice,’ Richards said.
‘Having your hands cut off, and being left to bleed to death is not very nice, Richards. A note shoved up your arse is a minor inconvenience. So, come on Toadstone, what does it say?’
‘Red-Handed.’
‘Hands that have shed innocent blood,’ Parish said. ‘It seems that Father Rosario knew exactly what was going on. Let’s hope he can point us towards this clergyman. Well, come on then, Richards. It’s no good loitering around here, Toadstone couldn’t find any evidence if it jumped out and bit him.’
‘Sirrr.’
***
‘Where’s DC Gilbert?’ the Chief asked her.
They were sitting in the Chief’s office on the easy chairs. He’d made her a cup of coffee and it was gopping. In fact, it was probably the worst cup of coffee she’d ever had. She left it to go cold on the table.
‘I’ve lost him.’
‘That’s a bit careless.’
‘Yes well, I’ve just come back from York.’
‘And I suppose you’ll be putting in a claim for expenses?’
‘If that’s all right with you?’
‘You’d better tell me why you went up there then.’
She told him about Samuels being an investigative journalist, about the photographs, the boxes, and Tracey Rush’s file. She didn’t tell him about the night she’d spent having lesbian sex with DI Carter, or about the rat in the box. ‘Basically, Sir, I’ve been following the leads.’
‘And you didn’t take Gilbert with you to York?’
‘We needed someone here to tie up the loose ends, so I took DI Carter with me. I couldn’t leave her here sticking her nose into everything.’
‘Ah, I’d forgotten about her. I hope you’re looking after her?’
‘She’s on two weeks leave, so she’s got time to help me.’
‘I see, good. So, she’s not giving you any trouble?’
‘Not now. Once I’d informed her of the rules, she was fine.’
‘Let’s go back to DC Gilbert. You say you’ve lost him. In my experience, a partner who is out of contact is bad news. Try him again now.’
She’d heard about the Chief’s old partner – Ed Gorman – killing himself and his family. She pulled out her mobile and rang Stick’s number – It was diverted to voicemail again. She shook her head.
‘I want you to make finding DC Gilbert your number one priority. How long has he been out of contact now?’
She shrugged. ‘I haven’t spoken to him at all today. He rang yesterday to update me on his progress with chasing up the victim’s files, but I haven’t heard from him at all today. He was meant to be here, so that we could brief you together.’
‘And he’s not left you any message on your mobile, or on your desk?’
‘Nothing, Sir.’
‘Okay, start from when he rang you. Ask around the station, find out if anyone has seen him this morning.’
‘What about the case?’
‘It can wait, but I have the feeling DC Gilbert has already solved the case for you. I just hope he’s still alive to tell you how he did it.’
‘I’ve got a press conference at four.’
‘Mmmm, it’s too early to put Gilbert’s face all over the news... Or is it? We’re the only ones who know how long he’s... In fact, we don’t know, do we?’ He thought for a while. ‘Let the press know where you’re up to with the case. Then hand out copies of Gilbert’s photograph. Tell the press to put something like: “Have you seen this man in the last twenty-four hours?” And underneath: “Ring this number”.’
‘Where would I get a photograph?’
‘See Carrie outside, she’ll have one of him in the personnel file. Ask her to get the copies made up ready for the conference.’
She checked her watch. It was twenty five past three. ‘Is that it, Sir?’
‘Keep me abreast?’
‘Will do.’
Fuck! Now she had to spend her valuable time looking for Stick – Stupid bastard. He’s probably fallen down a pothole or something.
‘I’ve got to find Stick,’ she said to Carter when she returned to the incident room.
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means we have to forget about the case until we find the stupid bastard.’
‘Where is he?’
‘That’s not the brightest question I’ve ever heard. If I knew where he was he wouldn’t be lost, would he?’
‘Okay, but you don’t need me to look for him as well. I could carry on working on the case.’
All she wanted to do was solve her first case as the Senior Investigating Officer, but events were conspiring against her. The Chief’s idea that Stick might have solved the case already was laughable. Stick couldn’t find his way out of a wet paper bag. Now, Carter wanted to solve her case for her as well. As soon as she heard that DI Carter was on her way from Buxton, she knew damn well that the bitch was fucking trouble.
What could she do? Throwing her out of the incident room and locking the door wasn’t any kind of answer. Fuck!
‘I want regular updates?’
‘Define regular?’
Xena sighed. ‘Well, I don’t fucking know.’
‘Then how do you expect me to?’
‘You know what I mean, stop being a fucking twat.’
‘You have a lovely way about you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Look, I know you’re worried that I’m going to solve the case and take all the credit – I’m not. For one, I’m on leave and not meant to be here. If my boss found out I was here I’d get hung out to dry, so your case is safe with me. I’m happy putting all this shit together. As soon as I find anything that I think is significant I’ll give you a call.’
‘That works for me, Buxton.’
Carter smiled. ‘Can I stay at your place again tonight?’
‘In separate beds?’
; ‘Sure, if that’s what you want?’
‘That’s what I want. I don’t want you thinking I’m a lesbian, or something crazy like that.’
‘Hey, I have a husband and two kids.’
***
‘There’s been another murder, hasn’t there?’ Father Rosario asked as he walked down the corridor. As usual, he wasn’t wearing a cassock. He had on a pair of jeans, a black woolly hat, and a donkey jacket over a T-shirt with the words: “Carpenter Needs Joiners – Apply Within”.
‘Yes,’ Parish said, leading the priest and Richards into the incident room. ‘Not only that, but you were right – Ruben is back.’
‘Tell me what’s been happening, Inspector?’
Between him and Richards, they told Father Rosario about the second person in Ruben’s cellar, the clerical collar, the third message, and the tetragrammaton on the bodies.
‘And you want to know if I know who it might be, don’t you?’
‘That would be the size of it, Father,’ Parish said.
‘The reason I came in yesterday was twofold. Yes, I had a feeling I knew what the messages related to, but I have also been troubled for some considerable time by a priest who comes to my church to confess.’
Richards took an intake of breath. ‘I thought you weren’t allowed to say...’
‘You’re right, Constable, I’m not, and I won’t. But, as the Lord says, “Vengeance is mine,” Romans 12: 19-21 – Not someone acting as God’s executioner. So, all I can give you is a name, then you must do what you feel is right.’
‘So, it is a priest?’ Parish said. ‘Who is it, Father?’
Father Rosario crossed himself. ‘God forgive me. You’ll have to follow him, you know. Otherwise... But you know how to do your jobs.... It’s just that, he uses his parishioners as the instruments of what he thinks is God’s will. His interpretation of the bible... I’m saying more than I should. His name is Father Peter Runnt, he is the priest at the Church of St Gobnait on the corner of Brecon Road in Ponders End.’
‘And if we storm in there with all guns blazing...?’ Parish asked.
‘You will never be able to prove anything, and you won’t find the man he is using as God’s instrument to carry out the murders.’