Fifty Two Weeks of Murder

by Owen Nichols

  “Last item is Buckland. Jesse, you collated all the registries yet?” He gave her a big grin.

  “All done as of this morning! We’ve done the most up to date consensus going and deserve a reward from some government department somewhere for doing their damn job!” A ripple of laughter sounded in the room. They’d all had to help at some time or other and it was a tedious, labour intensive job. It would also free up hundreds of man hours to Anders. She led the round of applause as Jesse stood to take a mock bow.

  “Three more buildings to check,” he said. “One in Brixton, near here, one in a council estate in Leeds and the other in Bath.” They had checked dozens of buildings and holdings where the paper didn’t match the IT records and it was often a case of poor paper work or an empty shell of a building that gave no evidence.

  “Where in Bath,” asked Anders, intrigued. Jesse looked at the screen briefly.

  “Royal Circle,” he replied. Anders paused for a moment, planning her next move as the group looked on in silence.

  “Ok,” she said. “Duncan, you take point here. Contact Leeds and have them search the estate there then get to the one in London. Barry and I will get to Bath and check that one out.”

  She dismissed the team and was joined by Barry as she made her way to the parking lot. He was dressed in his usual combats and a tight fitting black t-shirt that served to emphasise the enormity of his bulk and paucity of body fat.

  “You want me to sign out a vehicle,” he asked as he caught up, hooking a rucksack over his shoulder.

  “No, it’s ok. We’ll take my car.” A horrified look crossed his broad face.

  “You want to drive down the motorway in that heap of rust?” Anders gave him an evil grin.

  “No, I want you to drive down the freeway in that heap of rust, while I sit in the passenger seat and do some work.” He grimaced at her as they neared the truck and she tossed him the keys. The car groaned and creaked as he forced his bulk into it and spent several minutes coaxing the vehicle to life. Leaving the parking lot, the suspension complaining about the speed bumps, Barry gave Anders a pointed look.

  “That’s a very pretty Versace watch you have there, all buckled up on the inside of your wrist like you’re still back in the army. How much did that cost you?” She gave him an unimpressed look, doing well to hide her smile.

  “Enough,” she replied haughtily.

  “Damn right enough. Enough to buy a brand new car that’s how much that watch cost, several new cars actually. This piece of scrap metal pass its MOT? You bribe someone to sign the certificate, or just show your gun?” Anders reached behind and lifted a tablet from Barry’s bag, refusing to take the bait.

  “I like this truck,” she said. “It has character.” She swiped the tablet to unlock it and started going through her emails as Barry crunched through the gears.

  “You mean temperamental, stubborn and a pain in the arse? They’re not good characteristics.”

  “Eyes on the road soldier,” replied Anders and settled in her seat, shoes off and feet on the dashboard as Barry grumbled his way out of the city and headed for Bath.

  It didn’t take long for Anders to sort her admin out and she closed the tablet and tossed it on the back seat, leaning forward and switching on the radio. It looked new and expensive and cost more than the truck did. Which didn’t say much. She tuned it to a news station in time to hear Francis Buckland conducting an interview.

  “…that’s why the House of Lords has agreed, in principle, to suspend Habeas Corpus for any individual attempting to enter the competition should Parliament vote in favour of this legislation tonight.” He was interrupted by the interviewer.

  “The competition your brother set up.” Anders could hear the exasperated tone in Buckland’s voice as he replied.

  “I’ve been through this in a dozen interviews. I’ve worked closely with the home office and NCA to do everything in my power to bring him to justice. I’ve been instrumental in suspending Habeas Corpus and also in ensuring the Royal Decree rescinding my brother’s Lordship. I’m as horrified by his actions as any rational individual and renounce him and his deeds strongly, without reservation and without compunction. The sooner he is brought to justice…”

  Anders switched off the radio and sighed heavily. She hated politics and police work. They were often poor bedfellows.

  “He’s on dangerous ground suspending Habeas Corpus,” said Barry. Fundamentally, it was the right of the individual to a trial.

  “There’s still judicial review,” replied Anders absently as she watched the countryside speed past. Green pastures and fields greeted her and she felt a weight lifted as they left London in the rear view mirror. “Besides, it’s been suspended many times before. Seventeen ninety three after the French Revolution, Eighteen Seventeen, even the First World War. The last time was back in seventy one to try and tackle the IRA. The anti-terror bill pretty much does that anyway. It’s just an attempt by the government to put people off entering the competition.”

  Barry gave her a sidelong look.

  “I thought you only came back here a few months ago. You go and learn the British Judicial system just like that?” He clicked his fingers to make his point. “You’re a scary woman Anders.” She gave him a cheeky grin.

  “That’s why you like me so,” she said and he gave her a pitiful look.

  “In your dreams little one, in your dreams.”

  “In that case, keep your eyes off my butt then.”

  “It is kinda huge. Must be all that chocolate I see you stuffing your face with.”

  They bantered good naturedly as they made the journey to Bath. The journey should have taken a couple of hours, but the traffic held them up by another two. The conversation naturally turned to more sober topics and, as they stopped for a refill, Barry gave Anders a sly look as he chewed on a sausage roll.

  “Don’t think I’ve not see you sneaking into most of the empty buildings we’ve found. My cameras have caught you poking around in the dark.” Anders gave him a guilty look.

  “Just doing everything I can,” she said. He nodded in agreement.

  “Had a Captain just like you back in the forces. Wanted to do everything, be the best at everything, lead by example. Burnt out before his time. Pushed too hard.” He looked at Anders pointedly. She looked tired and worn, but he could see the fire in her. She wasn’t going to give up. She gave him a sad smile and finished her sandwich, washing it down with a bar of chocolate and mineral water. Barry turned on the CD player and, to his surprise, found Disney songs playing through the speakers. He turned to Anders with a delighted grin.

  “It’s for Aaron!” argued Anders, failing miserably to justify her CD collection. “Besides, nothing wrong with a bit of Disney.” Barry shook his head.

  “I worry about you, I really do.”

  “So what do you listen to then?” Barry muttered something under his breath, Anders teasing and prodding until he spoke clearly.

  “Opera. Maybe some West End.” Before Anders could rib him further, her phone rang. She picked it up, had a short conversation and hung up. Sighing heavily, closing her eyes and tilting her head back, she spoke quietly to the night

  “Lucy passed away this morning. No autopsy yet, but doctors think it’s most likely a clot from the surgery or something from the explosion they missed.”

  “Shit,” said Barry, his tone giving more meaning than a thousand words. They drove in silence for almost an hour, each contemplating losing yet another member of the team. She’d been sour and sullen with Anders, but was opening up and they were becoming friends. Barry had also spent some time with her, and though they had only known her for a few weeks, their friendship had been forged in fire. It was strong and they felt her loss deeply. Eventually, Anders spoke, her voice quiet in the cab.

  “Alfazon. That’s what she called me the last time I saw her. The last thing she said.” Barry gave her a puzzled look.

  “Alfazon was an Angel who sided wi
th Satan and was cast out of Heaven when they lost. After he fell, he renounced Satan and now walks the Earth, atoning for his sins.” Barry chuckled.

  “Pegged you for a fallen Angel did she?”

  “Something like that.” As they drove on in silence, Anders reflected on Lucy’s last words. Whether they were spoken through a drug addled haze or with lucidity, Anders felt that she should be upset with the comparison, but knew that there was a kernel of truth in what Lucy had said. Barry, sensing her mood, kept his counsel and pushed on through the traffic laden motorway in silence.

  Eventually, they arrived at their destination. Some of the places Jesse had identified turned out to be normal households with families or couples that had simply slipped through the system. Others had been more promising. Abandoned farmhouses or small holdings, but none had yielded anything of use.

  Barry pulled up near the Royal Circle in Bath, the battered truck looking out of place among the regal splendour. The Circle was a ring of Victorian houses facing inwards to a grassy knoll and ringed by a road that branched off at each compass point. In the centre of the knoll were some large and ancient trees, proudly defying the advances of the city. Anders loved Bath, steeped in history as it was. Everywhere she turned, there would be an old Roman construct or Tudor dwelling. She vowed to bring Aaron to the city and show him the Roman baths.

  They were here for a different purpose though and walked up the hill to the Royal circle in silence as the sun meandered below the horizon and a soft dusk took a gentle grip on the city. Turning round, Anders could see the twinkling city below them, great swathes of green pebbling the city centre. She gave a satisfied sigh at the view and took Barry’s hand in hers, his massive paw dwarfing hers.

  As they approached the knoll, they were just another couple, out enjoying a walk along the cobbled streets and alleyways, come to view the famous Royal Circle. Barry sat and leaned against a tree while Anders cuddled up to him.

  “Number twelve,” said Jesse in Anders’ earpiece. She scanned the buildings, noting that most of them were now flats. They’d been bought many years ago and turned into apartments for more profit. Number twelve hadn’t, the usual tell-tale sign of several buzzers on the side of the door absent. They chatted away amicably for half an hour as the sky darkened and the street lamps came on. The night was hot, a stifling, muggy heat, so Anders took off her jacket and lay it beneath her, now sitting opposite Barry and taking out a pack of cards. Just an ordinary couple enjoying the night. Barry was engaging company and the pretence wasn’t hard.

  Eventually, they agreed that the house was empty and, under a gibbous moon, sauntered over to the building. A large oak door barred their entry into the house and Barry pulled out his lock picking equipment. Anders scanned the now quiet street as he worked and, within moments, he had secured entry. Opening the door quietly, he slunk into the house, Anders following him in. She pulled out a pencil light and they found themselves in a large kitchen. It looked like it hadn’t been occupied for some time, dust collecting in a faint burr over the units.

  The rest of the house was abandoned and they did a thorough search before switching on the lights.

  “Empty,” said Barry in frustration. He called the Hub and spoke to Duncan as Anders walked slowly through the house. It was decorated with exquisite and expensive furniture. Each hallway and room was filled with carvings, paintings and artefacts from all over the world. One room held wooden sculptures from Africa and she traced a finger along a frightening mask from the Chokwe people of the Congo. In another room, an oriental theme prevailed with a large terracotta man encased in a glass cage. She whistled in admiration. The house may be unlisted anywhere, but someone clearly cared about it.

  Making one last sweep, something in the hallway caught her attention. Barry switched off his phone and caught Anders muttering under her breath. She walked back into one room, came out and went into the next.

  “Other properties were occupied by families. Had a fair old shock when the Police turned up. What are you doing?” he asked as she kept pacing back and forth. She curled a finger at him and he followed her into a study, every wall lined with bookcases housing hundreds of hardback books on law. Anders pointed to the wall behind a large desk. It was the only one that wasn’t occupied by shelving.

  “That wall is new,” she said. “There’s a ten foot space between the two rooms that doesn’t match.” She gave him an appraising look, taking in his massive height and build. “Fancy doing some home wrecking?” He chuckled.

  “We don’t got a warrant for that.” A twinkle in his eye suggested he didn’t care so much about that.

  “You show me what’s behind the wall and I’ll show you all the warrants you could need.” Grinning, he reached over and pulled the desk backwards. It was heavy and old, but he moved it as if it were made of cotton. He flung it onto its back, scattering pens and paper everywhere and kicked out a leg, the wood splintering under his assault.

  “Mind yourself,” he said as he peered closely at the wall before stepping back and swinging the table leg at it. The force of his blow cut through the plasterboard and he almost lost balance as the unexpectedly thin panelling gave way easily. A few more swings and he’d cleared a large section of wall, his hands grabbing chunks from the plaster and tossing it behind him. Covered in soot and dust, he whistled as he saw what was inside the opening. It was a large safe that seemed to glower at them menacingly as they shone their torches on it.

  “That’s a TXTL60. You’re not getting in there anytime this century.” The safe was roughly six feet high with a control panel on the front and a large metal wheel. Anders studied the panel and phoned Jesse.

  “Hey boss,” he said. “I’m sure you’re not phoning me to ask me out on a date. It’s ok, I’ve moved on.”

  “TXTL60,” she said, ignoring his lame joke and staring at the panel. “Can you hack in?” She waited as he tapped quickly on his keyboard, whistling as he worked.

  “Nope. Not from here anyway. It’s one of the best on the market and entirely self-contained. You’d need someone there and I’m not sure anyone could do it, not even me. I’ll contact the company that makes them and see if they can help us out.”

  He hung up, Anders and Barry waiting in an easy silence. They were used to long waits. It was part of the job. Eventually, Jesse called back.

  “Okay, you’re gonna need to find a bed for the night. They won’t send someone round until the morning.” Anders rolled her eyes in frustration.

  “Give me their number,” she said. Barry chuckled. He wouldn’t want to be the poor sap who answered this call.

  Thirty minutes later, a nervous employee turned up. He wore dark blue overalls and thick glasses that he constantly squinted through. He spoke with a stammer and Anders showed more patience with him that Barry would have. He prowled behind the poor man who knelt in front of the safe and applied a cable to the control panel, his hands shaking with nerves and glancing at the damaged wall that Barry had smashed through.

  “Easy there Mike,” said Anders gently. “Barry’s just a big softie, all wrapped up in a mean looking package.” She winked at Barry as she spoke and he stopped his pacing. Mike found his stillness more intimidating and, with trembling fingers, tapped in a twenty digit code to give him access to the safe. Eventually, he was done and looked up at Anders with a nervous smile.

  “All done Miss. Just turn the handle and you’re in.” Anders straightened up from where she had been leaning against a wall, reading a book, and thanked him.

  “Remember, Mike, that you have agreed to confidentiality. You cannot say to anyone what you have done here until we ask you to present evidence in a court of law. Are we clear?” He gulped and nodded, stammering his understanding. Barry led him out as Anders stood in front of the safe. Reaching forward, she turned the wheel and was surprised at how easily the door slid open.

  What was more surprising was the putrid smell as a brown pungent liquid seeped from the safe, sloshing over her sh
oes and oozing onto the floor. The door suddenly swung open further as a semi decayed corpse slid from the safe, its flesh half rotted, chunks sloughing from the skeleton as the movement disturbed its metal tomb. Its fingers were mashed to a pulp and someone had taken a mallet to the skull, shattering it into a hundred shards.

  Barry arrived just as the skeleton gushed from the safe and recoiled at the smell, holding his hand to his mouth and nose. He saw the mess congealing around Anders’ feet and she gave him a frustrated look.

  “Dammit. I really liked these shoes.”

  Chapter 8

  Anders gave her shoes a rueful look as Helen bagged them for evidence. Sealing the bag shut, Helen gave her a sympathetic look.

  “Good excuse to go shopping,” she said and looked pointedly at Anders’ feet. She wore some running shoes that she’d found in her car and the brightly coloured trainers looked at odds with her dark trousers. Anders had phoned Duncan and told him to get Helen and Ben to Bath as quickly as possible. They’d arrived within a couple of hours and Barry had buzzed them in as soon as he saw their approach.

  In the orange glow of the street lamps, they looked like ordinary tourists, newly arrived and carrying large suitcases. Anders had told them to come without making a fuss or alerting the neighbours and was pleased to see them. Though Ben was young and ungainly, his work was unmatched. Helen was equally gifted and knew how to get the best from Ben. They were an excellent team. Helen had even managed to draw Ben out from himself a little over the last month and Anders could see a real difference in him.

  He was on his knees peering into the safe and sifting through the congealed sludge that the corpse had festered in while Helen looked at the body itself. Barry had taken pictures before they’d arrived and his face was a mask of distaste at the smell.

  “Why’s it all half rotted like that?” he asked.

  “There was enough oxygen in the safe for some decomposition, but that soon ran out. The corpse was then left with anaerobes,” replied Helen absently as she moved the corpse a fraction only for more skin to sluice off, taking flesh with it and revealing bone underneath.