A Killing Moon

by Dunne, Steven

  The young man jumped to his feet and banged on the toilet door with his undamaged hand. ‘I’m here. Get the bolts, Red. My hand’s broken.’

  The sound of stiff bolts sliding back presaged the door opening.

  ‘Shit,’ said Red, seeing blood on his face. ‘What happened to you?’

  ‘Bitch slashed me,’ said Zeke, pushing past her, holding his left hand in his right. ‘We gotta find her …’

  ‘I cut her,’ said Red, showing him the bloodied knife in her hand, unsure what his reaction would be. ‘I think I killed her.’

  ‘You killed her?’

  ‘I’m not sure. She was getting away, Zeke. They were taking my baby.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘She’s just a murdering whore, after all,’ said Red, deploying her final argument.

  ‘Where?’ he shouted. She raised her eyes to the ceiling. Zeke nodded and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Red. You did good.’

  Daniela crouched over Caitlin’s rasping body and tried to drag her into the corridor but gave up at the door, instead kneeling to comfort her. Caitlin’s chest was moving but her throat was awash with blood. Bubbles burst from the laceration in her windpipe as she struggled to inflate her lungs. But it was the shocked expression on her face that brought tears even to Daniela’s chronically dehydrated eyes.

  ‘Mi dispiace,’ said Daniela, squeezing Caitlin’s hand and staring at the panic in the stricken girl’s eyes. ‘Mi dispiace.’

  She grabbed Caitlin’s butcher’s knife and picked up the baby, then scuttled painfully over to the smashed window. Hearing pounding on the stairs behind her, she tried to lift her injured heel but failed to get her foot as high as the sill.

  ‘Where you going, bitch?’ shouted Zeke, Red in his slipstream. They paused at Caitlin’s prostrate form bleeding over the threadbare landing carpet. ‘Sheesh, what a mess.’ Zeke stepped over the expanding pool of blood towards Daniela, who raised the knife in self-defence, her teeth clamped in determination.

  ‘She’s got my baby, Zeke,’ shouted Red. ‘Do something.’

  ‘No,’ shouted Daniela, the violence of her emotion belying the frailty of her body. ‘He’s mine.’

  ‘You don’t deserve him, you whore,’ snarled Red. ‘You were gonna kill him.’

  Zeke held an arm out to quiet her. ‘Where are you going to go, Daniela?’ His voice tried to soothe, his steps small but inexorable. ‘There’s nowhere to run.’

  Daniela’s resolve gave way to fear. She darted an eye out of the window, then back at Zeke.

  ‘You jump, you could kill the child,’ implored Zeke, inching forward. ‘You don’t want that, do you?’

  The baby wriggled in Daniela’s arms and her face softened into a smile. Zeke was only five yards away.

  ‘Give me the baby,’ he said, holding out his arms for the child.

  Daniela’s smile vanished and she lifted the knife to the baby’s throat. ‘Go back,’ she shouted, nodding to the stairs.

  Red lunged towards mother and child. ‘My baby.’

  ‘Red!’ Zeke stood across her path. ‘Let me handle this.’ He smiled at Daniela, splaying his empty hands to signal good intentions. ‘You’re not going to kill your child, Daniela. We didn’t let you before and we’re not about to start now.’

  ‘Back!’ ordered Daniela.

  Zeke halted but didn’t step back. ‘You won’t do it. The Lord gave him to you. To us. He put love in your heart for the child. We’re a family.’

  Daniela looked helplessly round at the window, out to the gathering darkness, resignation flooding into her. She turned back towards Zeke, a bitter smile playing around her chapped lips, then she raised the baby to her face and kissed him on the forehead.

  ‘Ti voglio molto bene,’ she said, tears rolling down her face. ‘Molte bene.’ She took a shuddering breath and placed the wrapped child on the floor, then before Zeke could react, she sliced deeply across the vein of her left wrist. Blood gushed from the wound but it didn’t stop her transferring the knife to cut her other wrist, though she only had strength for a shallow slash before slithering down the wall.

  Zeke stepped over the baby and kicked the knife away as Red pounced on the child and held him to her chest, tears in her eyes. As she hurried him away to the nursery, Zeke lowered himself to sit beside Daniela and examined her wounds. He placed an arm round her. Her head was bowed – resigned – her breathing shallow, but she opened her eyes at the embrace, a bloody hand feeling for the absent crucifix around her neck.

  ‘Here,’ said Zeke, unhooking his own necklace to place in her hands, which tightened briefly around the cross. ‘Shush now. Your work is done. You didn’t kill your child. You will sit beside the Lord. He forgives you.’

  Red emerged empty-handed from the nursery. ‘How is she?’

  Zeke shook his head. ‘There’s no fixing that wound.’

  Red began to sing. ‘Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.’

  ‘Go to him,’ whispered Zeke in Daniela’s ear. ‘He’s waiting.’

  ‘That saved a wretch like me.’

  Zeke disentangled himself from Daniela’s ebbing life force, taking up the song.

  ‘I once was lost, but now am found.’ He tensed his arms around her neck, shushing her as he got the best grip he could with his damaged hand.

  ‘Was blind but now I see.’

  He wrenched her neck sharply round until it snapped before standing up, head bowed in brief prayer. ‘She’s gone.’

  ‘What now?’ asked Red.

  Zeke opened his eyes and shrugged at her. ‘Now she’s just meat.’

  ‘The unit?’

  ‘The unit,’ agreed Zeke. ‘I’ll get her processed and in the pig trough tomorrow.’

  ‘She’s barely enough for a starter,’ said Red.

  Zeke grabbed Daniela’s flayed heels and began dragging the emaciated body along the corridor. When he came level with Caitlin, he gestured towards the Irish girl.

  ‘Well if Kitty here doesn’t pull through, they’ll have a main course to follow.’

  Zeke pounded back up the stairs from the barn. ‘Take her legs, Red,’ he ordered, putting his broken hand gingerly under Caitlin’s armpit. ‘This one’s got more meat on her.’

  ‘She’s still breathing.’

  ‘Maybe, but she’s not gonna make it.’

  ‘Maybe God wants her alive,’ said Red. ‘We should do something.’

  Zeke grinned. ‘Should I call an ambulance?’

  ‘Be serious.’

  ‘What then?’

  ‘Get her to the barn,’ said Red. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

  Zeke lifted Caitlin’s shoulders. ‘Is it worth it? You saw the way she reacted to Dad. We should never have taken her. If my uncle finds out …’

  ‘He won’t find out,’ replied Red. ‘Besides, she’s a baby-killing whore, right?’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So the longer she lives, the more she suffers. And if, by God’s grace, we can get your Dad to seed her, there’s nothing your uncle can say.’

  Zeke blew her a kiss. ‘Love you, Red.’

  They carried Caitlin’s blood-spattered body down the stairs, through the house and out into the moonlit night. As they approached the pig pen, a loud squealing was taken up and several of the fat animals threw themselves at the sturdy fence, chewing aggressively at the posts, scrabbling over each other to get closer to Caitlin’s blood trail.

  ‘The boys are getting hungry.’

  The bright moon disappeared behind a drifting cloud. At the barn, Red flicked a switch and the large building was flooded with pale light. They laid Caitlin next to Daniela. Zeke examined his hand and probed his bloodied cheek.

  ‘Heat the branding iron,’ said Red.

  ‘What for?’

  She nodded at Caitlin. ‘I’m going to cauterise the wound.’

  Noble handed hot drinks to Jake Tanner and Janet Gillstrap, the duty solicitor, while Brook listed those present for the tape.

/>   ‘You’ve had a chance to confer with counsel,’ said Brook. Tanner nodded. ‘Say yes or no for the tape, please.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tanner, leaning towards the recorder, an attempt at flippancy in his voice.

  ‘A young girl is dead,’ said Brook.

  Shamed, Tanner lowered his head to stare off into space. Brook glanced at Noble, who acknowledged with a lift of the eyebrows. This was not the detached expression of a hardened killer potentially responsible for the deaths of six young women. A single death, perhaps. Everyone was capable of taking a life under enough pressure.

  ‘And I killed her,’ said Tanner.

  ‘I knew you’d crack eventually,’ replied Brook.

  Tanner shrugged. ‘I want this over.’

  ‘Murder’s quite a leap for someone with a single assault to his name.’

  Tanner resurrected a little aggression. ‘Maybe I’ve been offing people all along without you noticing.’

  ‘Does your client understand the gravity of his situation?’ Brook asked Gillstrap, noting her tired expression.

  ‘Mr Tanner, we’ve been over this,’ she said with a sigh. ‘If Inspector Brook asks you a question, unless I advise against, you may answer. But don’t follow the inspector around the houses making comments that aren’t required and which may prove detrimental to your defence.’

  ‘I don’t need a defence,’ said Tanner. ‘I killed her. What more can I say?’

  ‘Why, where and how would be useful,’ said Noble.

  ‘And you can start by confirming the victim’s name,’ added Brook.

  ‘Don’t answer that,’ said Gillstrap.

  Tanner was surprised. ‘You don’t know who she is?’

  ‘We have an idea,’ said Brook. ‘And we’ll confirm soon enough with or without your help.’

  ‘Without suits best,’ said Gillstrap. ‘My client isn’t here to do your job, Inspector.’

  ‘Her name was Kassia,’ said Tanner softly. Gillstrap sighed in frustration.

  ‘Surname?’

  ‘I only met her that night. She’s from Poland. Was.’ He seemed about to say more but thought better of it, smiling instead. ‘Do I win a prize?’

  ‘A lifetime’s holiday at Her Majesty’s pleasure for starters,’ said Gillstrap.

  Tanner sneered. ‘I told you I killed her. What do you care?’

  Gillstrap crossed her arms, confirming his analysis.

  ‘Why?’ asked Noble.

  ‘She was fit and I fancied her.’ He shrugged. ‘It turned out she was a pro and I wasn’t about to pay for it.’

  ‘She was a prostitute?’

  ‘S’right.’

  ‘So you killed her. Where?’

  ‘In her flat.’ Brook prompted him with an eyebrow. ‘On Vernon Street.’ When Brook and Noble stared at him for more, Tanner said, ‘She took me back there. I don’t know the number. Big house, top room.’

  ‘But you had sex with her before you stabbed her, right?’ said Brook.

  ‘No,’ said Tanner quietly, his gaze steady. ‘I didn’t stab her and we didn’t have sex.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I haven’t got a knife so I strangled her.’

  ‘No, why didn’t you have sex with her?’ said Noble. ‘I thought you fancied her …’

  ‘I wasn’t gonna pay.’

  ‘Who’s talking about paying?’ said Brook.

  ‘Once you’ve smacked her about, you can take what you want by force,’ added Noble. ‘It seems a natural progression.’ Tanner didn’t answer.

  ‘Where did you meet her?’

  ‘In a bar.’

  ‘Bar Polski?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But that’s where you worked, isn’t it?’

  ‘I did. I was stocking the bar.’

  ‘So you met her there.’

  ‘No, Bar Polski’s not open yet. How would I meet her there?’

  ‘She worked there too.’

  ‘She didn’t,’ exclaimed Tanner. ‘I think I’d remember.’

  ‘But we spoke to your employer and he said Kassia worked there,’ continued Noble.

  ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘It’s academic,’ said Brook. ‘We’re getting a warrant to check the security cameras.’

  ‘Good luck,’ said Tanner. ‘The system’s not installed yet. I worked there, remember.’

  Brook nodded. ‘You’ve thought of everything. Or someone has.’

  Gillstrap turned to take an interest again. ‘What’s going on here, Inspector? Who is this someone?’

  ‘Kassia wasn’t really a prostitute, was she?’ continued Brook, ignoring the solicitor. ‘There were no needle marks on her arms, no signs of alcohol abuse, no clothing appropriate to prostitution in her wardrobe.’ He waited, the trap set. Someone had cleared and cleaned Kassia’s flat and removed all her clothes in case they’d picked up traces of DNA. If Jake Tanner had killed her, he’d have to know that.

  ‘That’s because I cleaned the place from top to bottom, then took all her clothes and stuff plus the sheets off her bed. Happy now?’

  ‘What did you do with them?’

  ‘Binned them.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘A skip somewhere. I forget.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ said Noble.

  ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘We’re police officers, Jake,’ said Brook. ‘Everyone lies. So where did you meet Kassia?’

  ‘In a bar. We had a few drinks and things went on from there.’

  ‘Did she pay for her own drinks?’

  Tanner hesitated. ‘No, I paid.’

  ‘Living in that fleapit you shared with Nick,’ scoffed Noble. ‘You don’t have two pennies to rub together and you expect us to believe you stood for Kassia’s drinks and paid for sex …’

  ‘I didn’t pay for sex, that’s the point. And I had an advance on my wages – enough for drinks.’

  ‘Which bar?’ demanded Brook.

  ‘I don’t remember.’

  ‘Convenient.’

  Tanner didn’t rise to the sarcasm. ‘One of those student pubs off Ashbourne Road. They do cheap drinks, right. I can’t remember which one because I’d never been there before. Shouldn’t I be signing something?’

  ‘Somewhere to be?’ enquired Noble. Tanner closed his eyes in frustration. ‘Thought not.’

  ‘When did you leave the pub?’

  ‘Closing. We staggered back to her place and she started warming me up.’

  ‘And that’s when she asked for money.’

  ‘Right.’ He leered at Brook. ‘And I’m not about to pay for it – leastways until I’m your age.’

  Brook raised an eyebrow at Noble’s sudden smile. ‘What happened when she asked for money?’

  Tanner concentrated hard. ‘I … I was shocked. I thought she liked me. Then she laughed at me and I blew my stack. I was drunk. The next thing I knew, I had my hands round her throat.’

  ‘So you strangled her.’

  ‘Eventually,’ said Tanner. He licked his lips nervously. ‘I smacked her around a bit first.’

  ‘A bit?’

  ‘Punched her a few times,’ said Tanner, unable to meet eyes.

  ‘How many times?’ said Noble.

  ‘Until she stopped moving. Then I strangled her to make sure.’ He looked up finally.

  ‘Did that give you an erection?’ snarled Noble.

  Tanner’s face soured. ‘You’re disgusting.’

  ‘Look who’s talking.’

  ‘Where was the body?’ said Brook.

  ‘On the bed.’

  ‘Clothes on?’

  ‘Some of them.’

  ‘Hands.’ Brook gestured at Tanner, who held them out for inspection.

  ‘I can’t see any damage,’ said Noble.

  ‘I wore gloves to do her,’ said Tanner.

  ‘Gloves?’ said Brook. ‘In her flat?’

  ‘We’d only just arrived. After a couple of knee-tremblers she asked for the money.’
/>   ‘How long were you in the flat before you started strangling her?’

  ‘About five minutes.’

  ‘How much did she ask for?’

  ‘Fifty notes.’

  ‘Nice round number,’ sneered Noble. ‘Easy to remember.’

  ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘What kind of gloves did you wear?’ asked Brook.

  ‘Leather.’

  ‘Are you right-or left-handed?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Where are the gloves now?’

  ‘River,’ answered Tanner. ‘They had blood on them.’

  ‘The river,’ said Brook drily. ‘Because the skip where you were forced to dump her clothes after spending five whole minutes in her flat was full, yes?’ He contemplated Tanner, drained his cup and looked across at Noble, who raised a splayed hand. Brook acknowledged with an imperceptible dip of the head. The fibres found in Kassia’s throat weren’t leather but fire-retardant suede from the workman’s gloves in the van.

  ‘And the van?’

  ‘I nicked it to move the body.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I just said.’

  ‘No, why move the body at all?’ demanded Brook. ‘You kill an unattached foreign national in a bedsit in an empty house – a girl with no family and few ties to Derby.’

  ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘My point is she could have lain undiscovered for days, even weeks in that flat. Why not just leave her where you killed her? All the offices were closed. No one would have seen you enter or leave. Instead you take an unnecessary risk.’

  Tanner took a while to reply. ‘I thought about leaving her in the flat but I couldn’t risk it. In case I left evidence. I’ve got form.’

  ‘But you were wearing gloves,’ chipped in Noble.

  ‘I may have left other traces. Hair or something. From the struggle.’ Tanner found his stride again. ‘You’ve got my DNA on record.’

  ‘So is that why you took a shower before you left?’ asked Noble. ‘To wash off blood and DNA?’

  ‘I didn’t shower,’ said Tanner. ‘I was too freaked.’

  Brook and Noble exchanged another glance. ‘Why Max Ostrowsky’s van?’

  ‘Because I knew Max from the bar. He’s the owner’s brother. I knew his address. I knew the van would be there. I didn’t know there was a blowtorch, but that came in handy to burn off her fingerprints.’

  ‘Just her prints?’