Double Visions

by Matt Drabble

  “22 years old, American citizen working as an au pair for a Mr and Mrs Spencer here in Faircliff,” Landing finished.

  “No priors, no record of any kind, not even a parking ticket,” DC Wilson chipped in. “Here legally, passport and visa all in order, nothing about her anywhere in the system.”

  “Witnesses?” Danny asked.

  “Nothing yet. No one has come forward. The body was discovered by a park keeper a…, Malcolm Procter,” DC Selleck replied.

  “So far nothing to cause any suspicion,” Wilson added.

  “I interviewed him this morning myself; he seemed on the level,” Landing shrugged. “He was pretty shook up by what he found, even puked.”

  Danny trusted her judgement without question, but it was always his procedure to double interview any potential witnesses/suspects and he would talk to the guy himself at some point. “CCTV?”

  “The footage is being dropped off later this morning,” Selleck said. “There’s pretty good coverage of the park because of the kiddies’ playground. The council actually stumped up the cash for once to pay for the installation, just in case someone tried to snatch a child.”

  “Good,” Danny nodded. “You go through them when they come in and Wilson will take a look afterwards.”

  “The case files from the Arthur Durage investigation are all on your desk,” Wilson said as though reading Danny’s mind.

  “Right then. Kim,” Danny said thoughtfully, addressing the assistant, “I want every scrap of paperwork collated as soon as it comes in and on my desk, no interruptions today,” he said, meaning that she was to keep everything non-essential off his desk. “Selleck, wait for the park footage to come in and take the first pass at it. Landing, scrounge as many uniforms as you need and start canvassing the park. It should be filling up by now,” he said, checking his watch. “Anyone that was there yesterday and might have seen anything out of the ordinary. Wilson, I want you down at the coroners; sit on the doc until he’s finished the autopsy on Donna Moss and check to see if there’s anything new on Lana Genovese.”

  “Boss!” Kim suddenly broke in and flashed him the thumbs down sign that signalled the approach of Chalmers.

  Danny groaned inwardly. The superintendant was only ever a hindrance on the rare occasion that he put in an appearance. If he was coming, then it could only mean that there was political pressure coming down the line as that was always Chalmers’ prime concern. “Right, get to it,” he ordered the team and they scattered quickly.

  “Meyers,” Chalmers said as he burst into the room. “Did I miss the briefing?” he asked innocently, feigning disappointment.

  “Only just, Sir. What can I do for you?” Danny answered, hoping to have the man on his way as quickly as possible.

  “This Crucifier connection,” Chalmers said, walking slowly to the whiteboard with his hands clasped behind his back. “How serious is it?” His face paled visibly as he scanned the photographs of the two corpses with the carvings in their chests.

  “Copycat markings and M.O, Sir. Whoever did these killings had knowledge of the original case to be sure. Both bodies were staged in a crucifixion pose on the ground identical to the original victims.”

  “And the Parkes woman?”

  “All taken care of, Sir.” Danny blushed a little at the rebuke for his momentary loss of control. Chalmers had read him the riot act after he’d arrested Jane Parkes and he knew that the man was concerned over his political standing. Everyone knew that Chalmers was only in the job for the shiny buttons that came when ascending the greasy pole.

  “Just so we’re clear, Meyers, I didn’t just want her out of the station. I don’t want her anywhere near this case, either as a suspect or as a…, consultant,” Chalmers said delicately.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Sir.”

  “Good, good. Your father was an excellent officer, Danny, a fine detective. You’ll do well to follow in his shoes, just not all the way.”

  “No, Sir, everything is under control here, I can assure you,” Danny smiled with a struggle.

  “Well then, I’ll leave you to it,” Chalmers said turning.

  Just then, the phone rang on Kim’s desk and she snatched up the handset. Danny turned to her to see if it was anything that he had to deal with. He felt worried as her face visibly dropped and he walked towards her wondering just what bad news had arrived now. She shook her head at him as he approached. “Superintendant Chalmers, it’s for you,” she said shakily.

  Chalmers’ face crinkled as he strode to take the phone from the assistant. Danny watched as the man’s expression went from surprise to a shaking purple anger that he had seldom seen before.

  The superintendant slammed down the phone and spoke with his jaw clenched in anger. “Someone get me a bloody copy of this morning’s Globe!”

  ----------

  Jane headed in through the doors of “Best 4 Pets” accompanied by the chiming door sensor that announced a new arrival. She was early for her shift but couldn’t stand pottering about the house any longer waiting for a new vision, invited or uninvited, not to mention the fact that the second victim had now started to wander about the cottage aimlessly. This new girl was young and confused and Jane could see the signs that the girl would start freaking out at some point in the very near future. She had driven into work and not been surprised at several points along the way to see both girls sitting in the back seat

  In truth, Jane was nothing if not confused and there was no one to turn to for help or advice. Certainly, the internet was rife with pretenders making all kinds of outrageous claims. She knew that, by the law of averages, some of them must be genuine, but she was not about to expose herself to that sort of world blindly.

  She was tempted to try and peek inside the killer’s head again. There was a kind of psychic trail that he’d left behind during his transmissions, one that she could still just about grab on to. But after he had caught her the first time, she was loath to try again so soon.

  “Hey, Janey,” Jessica Nelson, the owner of the shop, greeted her. “You’re not on yet, are you?” she asked, checking her watch.

  Jane liked Jessica a great deal. She was a spruce woman of indeterminate elderly age and unfathomable energy. She was always upbeat and friendly no matter if a customer was spending a small fortune or just popping in to pet the animals.

  “Just at a loose end,” she shrugged.

  “Well, I know one person who’ll be glad to see you,” Jessica teased, as Marty Kline appeared like magic at the back of the store.

  Jane rolled her eyes with a sigh. “Don’t you go encouraging him.”

  “Maybe a strapping young buck is just what you need,” Jessica giggled.

  “He’s just a kid!”

  “All the better,” Jessica winked, as she wheeled a trolley off with returns for the shelves.

  Jane shook her head with a friendly rebuke as her boss disappeared down the aisle. The last thing that she needed at the minute was the complications of a man in her life or, even worse, a boy. She already had one guy poking around inside her mind; she didn’t need another.

  “Hi, Jane,” Marty said, blushing furiously as usual.

  “Hi, Marty,” Jane replied, moving away towards the staffroom at the back.

  “You know, I was looking in the local paper this morning. There’s a showing of the original Cape Fear playing at The Regal on Saturday night.”

  Jane’s stomach tensed as she felt the date invitation waddling its way into view like a drunken cow into the path of oncoming traffic unable to swerve. He had asked her out several times before but he was becoming bolder and she was running out of excuses.

  She turned to him, meaning to start the long overdue “friends” conversation, when out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of someone staring at her. As she turned fully the person was gone, having ducked behind a fish food promotional display.

  She left Marty - as he was still talking but looking down at the floor with burning che
eks - and dashed down the aisle to where the figure had gone. With everything that was going on, she was suspicious of everything, and a person peeking surreptitiously at her was not going to go unchallenged.

  She reached the display but there was no one there. The store was relatively busy as people browsed on their lunch hours. The puppy enclosure was always a popular draw but there were also open Perspex topless boxes with rabbits and guinea pigs that were by now comfortable to be touched.

  She darted up one lane and down another, not knowing what or who she was looking for, but knowing that she would the instant she saw them.

  A woman and small ice-cream smeared little girl stepped out in front of her. “Excuse me?” the woman asked, noting Jane’s logoed polo shirt. “I was looking for some organic bird food, something that’s not packed full of chemicals.”

  Jane tried to lean around the woman as she spotted the back of a man who seemed oddly familiar. “Aisle 7,” she responded to the woman, half listening.

  “But is it organic? I mean the sort of wild birds that we get in tend to be a mite fussier than the town creatures.”

  Jane tried to ease past the woman but she was blocking her path and tapping a foot impatiently. The woman was obviously used to being obeyed. She wore the expensive tweed of a city girl who’d moved out to the country and considered herself a Lady of the Manor.

  “Look, it’s just bird food, okay?” Jane snapped as she desperately tried to find the man again as he’d momentarily disappeared from view.

  “Yes, but I was reading on the internet…” the woman started in a patronising tone.

  “For Christ’s sake, lady, it’s nuts and seeds! Trust me, the birds don’t care what’s on the label or how much it costs,” Jane barked as she barged past. The door chime above the main doors had just gone off and she knew that the man had just left.

  She felt Jessica’s surprised look as she ran past and out into the car park outside. Jane held a hand up to shield her face against the sun as she whipped her head from side to side, trying to catch sight of the guy. A car bleeped as it was automatically unlocked and she ran towards the sound. She had been a victim once in Arthur Durage’s basement; she had made a promise to herself that she would never be again and it was a promise that she intended to keep no matter what.

  She saw the orange flash of indicator lights and zeroed in on the car as a man climbed in and pulled the door shut behind him. His head was turned and his body was in shadow but she knew that she had seen him before.

  She heard the sound of the engine roaring into life just as she got to the car and, without thinking, she reached and yanked the driver’s door open. The man turned towards her with shock and fear etched across his face at her sudden appearance. She couldn’t immediately place where she knew him from but that didn’t matter.

  “What the hell do you want?” she snarled, her hands cocked into fists and her body instinctively assuming a fighter’s stance.

  “Hey, hey, easy,” the man responded, holding up his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to…, to…”

  “What?” she snapped.

  “I just thought that…”

  It was then that she suddenly placed him. His name was Alan and he had come into the store a few days ago. He had lost his wallet and she’d helped him find it, only for her to spook him with her actions. “Oh shit, it’s Alan, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” he stammered, regaining a little of his composure.

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that…, that…, I was chasing a shoplifter,” Jane managed at short notice, offering the best smile that she had in her arsenal.

  “It was just that I felt bad about rushing out of the store the other day after you found my wallet and I didn’t thank you properly.”

  “Oh that’s okay,” Jane said, finding herself blushing slightly. She remembered the look that he’d given her when she’d freaked him out.

  “I was wondering…, well I was wondering if I could take you to dinner?”

  Jane opened her mouth to turn him down politely, but found herself saying, “Maybe.”

  “Great. Let me give you my number,” Alan said, quickly reaching into the glove compartment for a business card and scrawling his home number on the back. “You know it’s weird, but I don’t remember telling you my name,” he pondered as he wrote. “My ex-wife always used to say that I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

  Jane mentally kicked herself for the slip. She knew his name, but he hadn’t given it to her. She took his card and smiled warmly.

  “Give me a call when you’d like to get together,” he said shyly. “No pressure, but I hope you’ll call.”

  Jane watched him pull away. He was certainly cute but her mother hadn’t raised any fools. A new man pops up into her life just as there was a killer on the prowl? She tapped the business card between her fingers and decided that perhaps Danny might be able to pull a few details on Alan Holmes that she couldn’t.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A GROWING GUEST LIST

  Donna Moss’ bedroom was small and depressingly cheerful. Danny poked through her shelves gently, respectful of the woman’s belongings in spite of her death.

  She had worked as an au pair for Winston and Sheila Spencer and their daughter Emily. The house was large and expensive and the Spencer’s were a family of means and taste. Winston was an investment banker for a large firm in London. Most of his work was done from home but he did have to commute several times a month. He was a tall, practical man with an iron reserve that kept his questions in the moment and pertinent. His main concern was whether or not it had been his family that were being targeted and not the au pair. Danny couldn’t blame the guy -he had a family to think of.

  Sheila Spencer was as cool a customer as Danny could ever remember coming across. She’d sat in the plush kitchen, smoking elegantly and exuding calm while Danny had questioned them. Her face was pinched thin from her unnatural skinny weight and her age was exaggerated on her features due to it. Her clothes were fashionably tailored and her spiked heels tapped out a gentle, almost bored, rhythm. Her life appeared to be all about maintaining appearances and position within her exclusive enclave. She sat on multiple committees - all reportedly for the better of others -, appeasing a little white suburban guilt.

  The facts and figures of the Spencer’s were coming in fast and as yet nothing had set off any alarms in Danny’s well honed mind. He was almost certain that it had been Donna Moss that had been targeted and not her employers, but he still made sure that every avenue was checked, and then checked again.

  Donna had been 21 years old and a little ray of sunshine. Little Emily simply adored the woman, as did all of the neighbours that Danny and his team had spoken to. The American had come over to experience a different culture and see a little of the world. She had worked a post in Amsterdam before moving over to the UK around 3 months ago. She had made a few friends locally and Selleck had been dispatched to garner any info. Her friends described her as friendly and outgoing, but never enough to give a guy the wrong impression. She had been single and more interested in getting a university place than finding a man.

  Danny picked up a small framed photograph on Donna’s shelf. The image showed the young woman pushing Emily on a swing, the two of them laughing broadly. The sudden unfairness of her death hit Danny like an expert hook to the solar plexus. She had just been a young, happy woman minding her own business and not bothering anyone, until some lunatic had battered her face into oblivion for his own twisted reasons.

  He felt eyes on him and spun around to see little Emily staring at him with wet eyes. Her face was a picture of sorrow and confusion at the fact that her friend had gone. Danny had never made the mistake of making futile promises to the dead. There were just too many vagaries and variables within any investigation to guarantee any sort of result. But in that moment, standing in the room that would never again feel the sunny warmth of its resident, he came awfully close.

  -------
---

  Randall reached out blindly and tried to silence the phone that was ringing incessantly, shattering his deep slumber. His head throbbed monstrously and he didn’t dare open his eyes into the brightness of the afternoon.

  The hotel was far more luxurious than what he was used to but he felt like he could stand a little more. The girl at reception had eyed him suspiciously as he’d walked into the lobby late last night, no doubt wondering whether or not to call security to inform them that some tramp had wandered in off the streets. But when he’d checked in under Ms Ramsey’s reservation, her attitude had changed dramatically and the plastic smile had magically reappeared.

  The Globe’s editor and chief had provided him with the accommodation and an expense account stuffed into a large envelope in readies that he had already dipped into for a bottle on the way to the hotel. After finishing that, he’d proceeded to empty the contents of the mini bar down his gullet caring little for flavour or taste, only strong alcohol percentages.

  He grabbed the telephone handset at the third attempt as it threatened to slip from his greasy grasp. He lifted it delicately to his ear and braced himself for the volume of the voice. “Hello?” he croaked.

  “Ah, Mr Zerneck. We’re back in the land of the living are we?” Marion Ramsey asked in a cool voice.

  “Yeah.”

  “Good, then shall we get to work? I have a meeting with Superintendant Chalmers in about an hour. Would you like to attend?”

  “Well, guessing at how loud he’s likely to be, I’d like to say no.”

  “That’s as maybe but now that you’re on my payroll, I wasn’t really asking.”

  “What happened to Barrett?” Randall asked.

  “Who?”

  “Jeffery Barrett … used to run the cops here in my day.”

  “Oh, he moved up the line; he’s a commander now.”

  Randall pictured the guy and remembered an officious prick who only cared for his next promotion. He hoped that the new superintendant would be an improvement. “Is it wise for me to be there? I mean, if I’m going to be working on the story then I need a little anonymity.”