by John Stewart
Rebecca took out her phone and showed Claire the photograph.
“Why kill the people in this photograph? Is Lauren the blonde girl beside Pierce Renshaw?”
Claire arched her head up from the bed to see. Looking at the faces, she realised Rebecca was telling the truth about working with Simon and had all the evidence the police needed. She lay her head back on the bed and sighed.
“The people in that photograph ruined her life that night. The animals took turns raping her while the two bitches on the right just watched and laughed. I met her a few years later at a Thelema Lodge. She was a mess. Drinking, taking drugs, sleeping with people who had little or no respect for her. This necklace is hers. Her grandfather gave it to her when she was a child. Joining the order would bring some balance to her life was how she put it. She cleaned herself up and I got her some work at a methadone clinic. We became a couple and a while later she told me about what happened to her and how she wouldn’t rest until she found them. All she had to go on was that picture, but one by one we found the bastards.”
Rebecca could understand the motivation but couldn’t condone the methods. “Why not call the police? You didn’t have to murder them,” she said in a softer tone.
Claire scoffed at the suggestion.
“Have you forgotten what Simon Meadowcroft was? Calling the police would have been pointless. Lauren has despised the police ever since that night. She found him a couple of years ago but wanted to leave him until last. We followed him on and off over the last year, he often brought girls back to the police safe house, but last night he went there alone with a big bag. Lauren was sure he had finally put it together and was planning to find her this morning at the garden. With all the protesters and gatherings around the city today, he could do what he wanted and go unnoticed. He was going to kill her in that house.”
Rebecca shook her head. “You can’t know that.”
“Then why bring her there? Tie her to a chair and point a gun at her head? I saw it in his eyes.” Rebecca pursed her lips, visualising the scenario as Claire continued. “He was never going to let that picture get out. He had too much to lose. Every case he ever worked on would be reopened and his reputation left in ruins. It was better for him this way, he was a dog that needed to be put down.”
As Claire spoke about Simon, Rebecca pictured him in her mind and got a flash of the reflection she saw in the window on the night she was attacked. As the suppressed memory of Simon’s face in the glass returned, she sat on the bed, struggling to take it in. In doing so, she unknowingly clipped her foot off the syringe and it rolled under the bed.
“He was the one who attacked me. Jesus, he could have killed me,” Rebecca unintentionally said aloud.
Claire laughed mockingly. “It’s a miracle he didn’t. You were right on the edge when he brought you in.”
Rebecca reluctantly engaged. “But, why did he bring me to the hospital?”
“I remember the doctors saying the amount of blood you lost was unusual for the size of your wound. They initially thought you might be a hemophiliac. I bet he waited for you to bleed out before bringing you in. That’s the kind of man Simon Meadowcroft was.”
Rebecca stood from the bed still rocked by the thought of Simon being the one who attacked her. She tried to call Mike again, this time he answered.
Chapter 37
Mike had given Sloane a complete rundown of the evidence they had discovered in the cases. He showed him the photo connecting Simon Meadowcroft with the victims and explained how he came to be at the safe house. Sloane had a methodical style of questioning and the process took some time, but without the files, maps and diagrams, Sloane was not convinced. Mike urged him to have Weaver Fields checked for a possible body location, but he seemed to have other concerns.
“Mike we’re stretched to the limits this time of year, tonight especially. There’re thousands of protesters gathering in the city as we speak and I think I’ve heard enough. I can’t spare officers to search parks when we don’t even have confirmation of a murder. For all I know, Simon cut his hand and hurried off to get a bandage. We appreciate your interest, but I’ll speak to Simon personally and sort this all out. Now, if that’s all, I have things to do.”
“My interest? Look, with all due respect, Detective! One of your own looks to be involved in a string of murders. How can you just brush it off?”
“Simon hasn’t been one of us for a very long time, long before he was forced to retire. Until he shows up, and trust me he will, we don’t know what happened in the house this morning. It’s not the first incident we’ve had to clean up for him. Whatever you think you know about him, know this. He has clout with some important people.”
“Just a couple of units? They could search the park in less than an hour,” Mike pleaded.
“Our overtime budget for the year ran dry a month ago and every uniform in the city will be on crowd control tonight. I’ll look into what you’ve told me and if it warrants further investigation, we will handle it. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, one of the officers outside will escort you back to your car.” As he spoke, he received a text message detailing the C.S.I.’s discovery of the burning barrel on the safe house roof.
“You still have my phone,” Mike replied with a stern expression.
Sloane stood and gathered his notes, choosing to withhold the new information from Mike. “Ask at reception on your way out.” Gesturing towards the door.
Mike stood, matching the detective’s height and walked out of the room.
“Oh and Mr. Wesley,” Sloane said walking behind him.
Mike turned and faced him. “Yes, Detective!”
“If I read anything about what we’ve discussed today, you’ll be finished in this city. Meadowcroft isn’t the only one with friends upstairs. Is that understood?”
Mike clenched his jaw and walked away without saying another word. By the time he collected his phone and got outside, darkness had fallen and he was shown to a car by a uniformed officer. It took some persistence, but on the way back to Ralstone Street, he managed to talk the young officer into taking a detour by Weaver Fields. As they passed the park, he saw everything was quiet. It was a blustery night and most of the people that were outside had congregated at local bonfires. When they got back to Ralstone Street, Mike saw the safe house building was quiet. He thanked the young officer and got into his own car. The tech department at the Met had considerately returned his phone with a dead battery, so he started the engine and plugged it into the in-car charger. The phone illuminated and played a short startup melody as if it appreciated the power surge. He had a missed call from Rebecca and was about to return it when the phone rang in his hand. “Becca, I was just about to call you back, everything okay?”
Rebecca returned Claire’s makeshift gag, took her phone and walked into the living room to get out of earshot.
“I’m okay, but there’s been some developments.”
“What sort of developments?” Mike asked in a concerned tone.
“I got the names from the Thelema Lodges.”
“How? Simon said they wouldn’t give them out.”
“That doesn’t matter now. I recognised one of the names.” She said looking back towards the bedroom before lowering her voice. “It’s Claire Swindon, the nurse that treated me after the attack.”
“Claire?” Mike repeated in a sceptical tone.
“Yeah, she’s been helping a woman called Lauren Gibson. They did it all together.”
Mike held his head in shock at what he was hearing.
“What? Becca! Where the hell did you get all this from?”
“I’m at her flat now.”
“What?” Mike snapped.
“Calm down, she’s tied up in her bedroom. I heard her talking to the other one on the phone. Look, I’ll explain everything…”
Mike took a controlled breath. “Becca! Get out of there now and call the police!” he said, doing everything in his power not to shout at her r
ecklessness.
“I tried calling them already, but they had me on hold for ages. Can you tell them to get to Weaver Fields? That’s where Lauren is dumping Simon’s body.”
Mike paused for a moment. “He’s dead?”
“Yes,” she said, deciding not to add it was he who attacked her. “I faked a call to the cops and made sure Claire knew they were coming. After that, she told me everything. This Gibson woman planned the whole thing. Apparently, she was assaulted by all the men in the photo at a Millennium New Year’s Eve party.”
“That makes sense. The police never officially released the new year connection.”
“I’m telling you Mike, this is for real. She said Simon was going to kill Lauren at the house today.”
“That explains why he never shared the CCTV info. Slimy bastard! What about the two girls?” Mike asked, still struggling to take it all in.
“Claire said they watched while it was happening.”
“That’s why the eyelids were cut, Jesus Christ!” Mike said rubbing his forehead.
“She needs to be caught before she gets away. She’s planning to leave the country tonight.” As she spoke, she looked inside Claire’s bag on the table.
“I’m back at the car. The police just dropped me off. I passed by the park on the way though. It all looked clear.”
“She’s probably waiting for Claire.”
“The cops won’t be much help. The guy I was talking to didn’t give a shit about what I told him. He just said they would handle it. Listen, this Lauren, do you know what she looks like now? I know she changed her hair, but I never saw her face.”
“Just gimme a minute,” Rebecca said as she opened the image gallery on Claire’s phone. Scrolling through, she found several pictures of a dark haired woman with Claire. Looking at the bag, she noticed a photograph inside, the original photograph that Lauren had smeared with Simon’s blood. The only face left untouched was Lauren’s. Picking it up with her sleeve, she compared the faces in both pictures. She had aged and her hair was a different colour, but it was Lauren.
“Mike?”
“Yeah, I’m still here.”
“I got a pic of them together on Claire’s phone.”
“Are you sure it’s her?”
“Positive, it’s a Snapchat pic with the tagline ‘Me and L and it looks very like her old pic,” Rebecca replied with conviction.
“Good enough. Forward it to me and then send a text to her using Claire’s phone.”
“And say what?” Rebecca asked, lacking the confidence of her previous reply.
“I passed a lot of protesters on the way back from the station, so maybe just say the roads are blocked and you’ll be another forty minutes or so. Check some other messages first to see if Claire abbreviates her words.”
“Good thinking,” Rebecca said as she looked through some sent items and composed the text for Lauren.
“As soon as you can, get out of that flat and call the police again. Speak to anyone but Ethan Sloane, he a useless prick.”
“Okay, I’ll try again, this message is ready. Will I send it now?”
Mike eyed the dashboard clock.
“Yeah, send it now, it should be just enough time.”
“What do you mean? Time for what?” Rebecca asked with a concerned tone.
Mike started the car. “If the police won’t take her in, someone has to.”
Chapter 38
The Bonfire Night protests were in full swing in the city centre and the closer Mike got to Weaver Fields, the quieter the streets became. He pulled in on Maple Street and got out of the car holding a small flashlight. He jumped the railing opposite the Community Nursery and began walking the internal parameter under the cloak of darkness. The park was lined with trees, but the south-east corner had more cover. He made his way over, looking around him as he went. Moving in virtual silence, he approached the wooded area and heard a rustling from the trees up ahead.
Slowing his pace to a crawl, he hid himself in the shadows, hoping if it was Lauren he heard, he could catch her off guard. He ebbed closer until he found himself in a small clearing. The streetlights were blocked by the surrounding trees and the cloudy sky prevented the moonlight from illuminating the area, leaving it practically pitch black. Mike stopped and listened for another sound, but none came. He waited until the only sound he could hear was his own breathing. With no other option, he turned on his flashlight and within seconds he wished he hadn’t. About ten feet ahead of him, in the middle of the well worn walking trail, lay Simon Meadowcroft’s body. Mike was physically taken aback by the sight. It was one thing researching cases and studying crime scene pictures, but seeing the murdered body of someone he knew was very different. He took a step closer and saw that Simon’s chest had the Unicursal Hexagram of Thelema skillfully carved into it. Mike shook his head in disgust. He was still unaware that the man in front of him was responsible for almost killing Rebecca.
“What’s wrong? You don’t approve?”
Mike jumped back and swung his flashlight wildly in all directions as Lauren spoke.
“Over here, Mr. Wesley.”
Lauren appeared from the shadows to the left of Simon’s body. Mike held the light on her face, shocked that such an attractive woman could be capable of such horrors.
“It’s over Lauren. Claire is in custody as we speak and the police are right behind me.”
Lauren’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She reached in and read the text message from Claire.
“Last text wasn’t from me, Hollister came to my house, had to take care of her, on my way into the park now. No cops around.”
Lauren replied. “Go to SE entrance, get behind Wesley, he’s holding a torch, take him down.
She sent the text and returned her attention towards Mike.
“Is that a fact?” she said with a less than concerned expression. “Strange, I can’t hear their sirens and they love to make an entrance. How about you walk away and we forget we ever saw each other. I did you a favour really. Think of it as payback on the man who almost killed your girlfriend.”
Mike felt his stomach turn as she confirmed his early suspicion. “For all I know it was you and your nurse friend who did that.”
“No, he told me all about it when he had me tied to a chair about to put a bullet in my head. I only found out about you helping him after she showed up in Claire’s ward. Small world eh?”
Mike shook his head in defiance.
“Whatever he did, he didn’t deserve this.”
Lauren’s tone was dismissive.
“No, maybe he didn’t, it would have hurt him more to expose him for what he was, but I deserved it. He and the rest of those animals ruined my life and I took theirs in return. Now I’m whole again, balance has been restored and tonight is the new beginning I’ve been building up to.”
“You know this can only end with you going to prison,” Mike said, feeling increasingly uneasy about her unaffected attitude.
“Haven’t you lost enough Mike? Stop meddling in things that don’t concern you. Walk away now and no one else you love gets hurt.”
Mike knew something wasn’t right and reached for his phone to call Rebecca, but before he could hit the call button, Lauren had Simon’s handgun pointing at him.
“Drop the phone Mike, I don’t want to shoot you, but I will. Fireworks are being set off all around the city tonight and a few gunshots will sound just the same.”
“Killing me achieves nothing,” Mike said with a steady voice. “Claire will be in prison and you won’t get far.”
Lauren saw a small flash coming from behind Mike and smiled. “You really have no clue, do you Mr. Wesley?”
Before Mike could respond, he saw a blue flash from the corner of his eye and felt a sharp sting on his neck. His muscles contracted violently, knocking the Taser from his attacker’s hands and before he knew what hit him, his eyes closed and he fell lifelessly to the ground.
Lauren lowered the gun an
d walked towards Mike’s limp body. “Well about time you showed up. I had to drag that piece of shit over the railings and through the park by myself. I suppose we’re gonna have to get rid of him too. What did you do with your old friend Hollister?”
“You’re the one with no clue, Bitch!” Rebecca whispered, thrusting Claire’s syringe into Lauren’s neck and pressing hard on the plunger. Lauren stumbled back in shock and raised the gun, but the sedative began to work immediately. Her legs betrayed her as the gun fell from her hand and she collapsed. Rebecca lowered the hoodie she had taken from Claire, kicked the gun out of Lauren’s reach and turned to check on Mike, who was coming around from the Taser shock.
“Are you alright?” she asked, holding his face.
Mike opened his eyes with an expression of pure bewilderment. “What just happened?”
Rebecca helped him to his feet.
“I just saved your ass! Mr. Wesley, that’s what just happened. I believe that makes us even,” she said, giving him a big smile. “Come on, the police should be here by now. We should head to the entrance and show them where she is.”
“What if she wakes up?” Mike asked, turning back on unsteady legs to look at the unconscious killer.
“Don’t worry, I gave her enough juice to knock out a horse. She’s not getting up anytime soon.
“I’d rather be safe than sorry,” Mike said as he picked up the gun with his jacket sleeve.
Walking away from the gruesome scene, they were greeted by D.S. Sloane and a handful of uniformed police officers arriving at the south-east entrance.
Mike looked at Sloane, surprised by his presence. He had been informed by a receptionist of Rebecca’s 999 call and insisted on checking the location personally.
“She’s in there to the right,” Mike said, addressing the uniformed officers. He then walked up to Sloane. “Along with your friend’s body. I told you to listen to me. We might have been able to stop this,” Mike said, giving the flustered detective a filthy look as he handed him the gun.