by Leon, Taylor
‘Nothing, I guess.’ BABYFACE’s head dropped. ‘I would stay on the run and hope they don’t catch me.’
‘And if they do?’
‘I don’t want to go to jail.’
A desperate boy, will do desperate things to stay out of jail, THE GAMES-MASTER thought. I can’t take that risk.
‘There’s something about you that reminds me of a younger me,’ THE GAMES-MASTER lied. ‘So, although you are having to leave The Game, I am going to give you some money so you can get out of the country and start again somewhere else.’
He watched as the boy broke into a big shit-eating grin.
‘Any idea how I can get out of the country if I’m being chased by the police?’ BABYFACE asked.
‘Don’t worry. I know people.’
‘Thank you,’ BABYFACE said, and he looked like he was going to cry real tears of joy. He stood up, leaving the knife on the bed. ‘Can I get you a drink from the mini-bar?’
‘To celebrate?’ THE GAMES-MASTER smiled.
‘If you like.’
‘I have something better,’ he said. ‘But only if you’re into this type of thing. I won’t be offended if you’re not.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small prescription bottle. He’d originally bought these to use later on in the game. There wouldn’t be time to buy anymore, so he’d have to amend his plans. Right now though, he had to deal with this situation.
He watched BABYFACE’s eyes widen. He knew that this was exactly the type of thing he was into.
‘What are they?’
‘They’re called Blue Jelly Crush.’ He opened the bottle and held up a blue pill between thumb and forefinger.
‘How much do they cost, because I’m kind of broke right now?’
‘Well, I’ll let you have these three on the house,’ THE GAMES-MASTER said. ‘Let’s call it a make-up gift.’
The boy thrust forward a greedy hand.
‘Uh-uh,’ THE GAMES-MASTER said, pulling away. ‘You need to take these properly if you want to get a high that will blow your mind. You got some spirits in the fridge?’
BABYFACE went over, opened the small fridge and peered inside. ‘Whisky do?’
‘How many bottles are in there?’
‘Two miniatures.’
‘That’s fine, bring them both over.’
‘One each?’
THE GAMES-MASTER shook his head. ‘No, it’s best I watch over you the first time you take these. I don’t want you running out the door naked or something stupid when you’re high. You’ll want to knock both of those bottles back.’
BABYFACE opened the first bottle and then held out his hand for the pills.
THE GAMES-MASTER shook his head. ‘Drink it down first.’
BABYFACE knocked the first bottle back, letting out a low groan as the spirit burned his throat, then he opened the second one.
THE GAMES-MASTER placed three pills onto his open palm. ‘Gulp that one down as well, then swallow all three pills at once. No biting.’
BABYFACE nodded, saluted him with his bottle, then poured the second whisky down in one swallow. He gave another loud ‘Ahhhhh,’ and then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. He tilted his head back and dropped in the three pills.
‘Done?’ THE GAMES-MASTER asked after a moment.
BABYFACE nodded and flopped back in his chair, his eyes wide, and his pupils dilated. THE GAMES-MASTER could have sworn he heard the boy breathe, ‘Shee-it,’ in a pleasurable “wow” way. It was possible, but unlikely. The first thing the pills did was paralyse speech.
THE GAMES-MASTER rose and pulled on his leather gloves, keeping his eyes on the boy as he did so. The boy just stared forward into space, mouth agape. He knew the boy’s mind would still be active, but he would be unable to interact or move. He would just be able to watch, breathe and think. The only solace for him was that it would only last a few moments. Then the pills would react fully, and kill him.
‘I know you can hear me,’ THE GAMES-MASTER said to the top of his head. ‘I never planned this. It’s important you understand that. At one point I actually thought you could win the game. But alas, you lost your head and I am so close. I cannot afford to worry about what you may or may not do.’
As if in reply, the boy’s body started bucking wildly up and down out of control as it went through its final death throes.
THE GAMES-MASTER waited patiently until the boy fell still and he was sure he was dead.
He emptied out a second small container of prescription pills onto the bedside table, then straightened up to survey the scene.
‘I really am sorry it came to this,’ he said aloud to the corpse and maybe the boy’s spirit, if he was still somewhere in the room.
Part Two
WHEN DEATH COMES CALLING
26
FORENSICS WERE ALL over the hotel by the time Arnie arrived.
The boy was sprawled out on the bed, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling. Barney Rivers, who was examining the body, looked up when he saw our boss. ‘Morning Arnold. I just told your detectives that this one could be an accident or a suicide, but I can’t say which at this stage.’
‘There’s no sign of a forced entry, and no signs of a struggle,’ Cade added. ‘Nothing to suggest there was anyone else in here with him.’
Arnie looked at us with raised eyebrows. ‘Suicide note?’
‘No, and that favours an accidental overdose’ Cade said, and nodded at the empty whisky bottles and small bottle of pills on the bedside table. ‘He’d clearly been drinking and taking pills. We don’t know what state of mind he was in, probably scared shitless’
‘It’s not difficult to see why it could have been a suicide or an accident,’ Arnie said. ‘We may never know for sure, but at least a killer’s off the streets.’
I shook my head, and I noticed Arnie gave Cade a look.
‘Erin isn’t convinced he’s responsible for all the numbered murders,’ Cade explained.
Arnie sighed. ‘Erin, we have a blood match.’
‘To just one victim,’ I said. ‘Melissa Fairweather. He may have killed her, but there have been four other killings so far that we haven’t matched him to.’
‘Three other killings,’ Arnie said.
‘One, two, three and five,’ I reminded him. ‘I’ve a horrible feeling it’s just a matter of time before we find number four’s body.’
Arnie sighed and held up his hand. ‘Erin, if you want to pursue the idea that there is a copycat killer or someone was working with this kid, then continue your investigation but keep it very low-profile. I think you’re wasting your time, and I do not want a “multiple-killer” theory getting out into the public domain.’ He looked at his watch. ‘In the meantime, I’m going to see the Superintendent.’
He turned and started to leave when I called after him. ‘What are you going to tell him?’
His face was set in stone. ‘I’m going to tell him that you two did a great job and that we’ve got the serial killer off our streets.’
****
Wills hurried up to us, as we left the hotel through the lobby. Up ahead, I could see a team of journalists were gathering outside in the car-park.
‘The report on Helen Green’s murder,’ Wills said passing me a sheet of paper.
“HG”. The initials on the painting we found in Marcus Simms’s bedroom.
‘She was beaten to death near the Lake District,’ I read. ‘Case unsolved and still open.’
‘Any suspects?’ Cade asked, as we kept walking.
‘One,’ Wills said. ‘Helen Green’s ex-husband. He was questioned and then released without charge.’
‘Marcus Simms?’
Wills shook his head. ‘Gets a brief mention only. They interviewed him, took a sample then let him go. Meanwhile, we’ve taken his painting and we’re getting it tested for her blood.’
‘Good,’ I passed the sheet of paper back to him, and speeded up towards the exit. I for one, wanted to avoid the press pack outsi
de. Arnie and the Super were about to announce that Marcus Simms- the “number killer”- was dead, but I couldn’t give anyone that re-assurance because I knew Amy Harper’s killer was still out there somewhere.
‘Helen Green’s murder may just back up my theory,’ I said to Cade. ‘Helen Green and Melissa Fairweather were beaten to death. Jennifer and Amy were strangled and Elias James was stabbed. The different methods suggest someone else killed the last three.’
‘Marcus Simms was young, maybe he hadn’t finessed his methods.’
I threw him a dirty look.
Cade rolled his eyes. ‘Arnie said we can keep an open mind for an accomplice, but in the meantime, let’s give forensics a chance to try and pin it on this kid.’
‘He didn’t kill Amy Harper!’ I snapped at him, and immediately regretted it.
Both he and Wills stopped and stared at me.
‘Erin?’ Cade asked gently.
I looked sheepishly down. ‘I’m sorry. Forget it.’ I turned and walked away.
Cade ran to catch up with me near the doors, leaving Wills somewhere behind.
‘We know Marcus Simms killed Melissa Fairweather, don’t we?’ he said.
‘Yes, I know,’ I sighed.
‘So, let’s take that as our starting point,’ he said, ‘and see if we can prove he killed the others as well’
We stepped outside and immediately the pack of journalists swarmed towards us, with Meredith near the front.
‘A word, John?’ she called.
I was surprised when Cade made a bee-line for her. I followed him as he ducked under the blue and white tape. As the other journalists surrounded us, a couple of Uniforms waded in to push them back.
Cade simply said to her, ‘Not here.’
We pushed our way through to his car, with Meredith following a couple of paces behind us. I didn’t look round, but imagined she was getting dirty looks and a glut of unprofessional comments from her competition.
Cade and I sat in the front, Meredith in the back. She seemed smug and arrogant, as though she had expected Cade to afford her this special treatment.
‘So, do I get a heads-up?’ she asked.
‘What have you got for me?’ he replied.
I saw her in the rear-view mirror give him a mischievous smile. ‘What would you like?’
Maybe it was my imagination, but it sounded as though her remark was supposed to have a double-meaning. I felt an uneasy stirring in my stomach.
Cade turned red, and sounded flustered when he answered. ‘You texted me earlier to say you had some information.’
‘You scratch my back,’ she said. ‘And I’ll scratch yours. Hard’
Again, with the double-entendres. I turned around in exasperation. ‘When you’ve finished flirting with my colleague, maybe you can give us whatever information you have.’
She tutted.
She tutted me!
‘It’s not good to take that tone with the press, Detective Dark,’ she said. ‘You want us on your side.’
Who did this bitch think she was?
‘I expect that to be a given,’ I snapped. ‘Excuse me if I don’t appear to be overjoyed at spending time with you, but you journalists aren’t that popular these days.’
‘And I think you over-estimate the public’s confidence in the police,’ she quipped.
‘Ladies,’ Cade sighed. ‘Please can we get back to the investigation.’ He turned in his chair and looked back at Meredith, prompting her to speak.
‘Okay,’ she sighed. ‘Who’s the victim?’
‘White, male,’ Cade said. ‘That’s all I can give you right now.
‘Is he linked to the “number murders”?’
Cade didn’t answer.
‘Is it Marcus Simms, the kid I’ve seen all over the news?’
‘There’ll be a statement shortly,’ Cade said.
‘I’ll take that as a yes. Come on, give me something.’
‘Tit for tat, ‘I reminded her. ‘What are you giving us?’
She glared at me. ‘I gave you Hargreaves.’
‘That’s old news,’ I said.
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning, there was nothing there.’
‘Then you didn’t look hard enough.’
‘Tell me,’ I asked her. ‘How did Hargreaves appear on your radar?’
‘A good journalist doesn’t reveal her sources,’ she said.
‘Perfect, then you’ll be able to reveal yours.’
‘Did you speak with him?’ she tried again.
‘Meredith, please,’ Cade said.
‘If you’ve nothing else to give us, then you can get out now,’ I told her.
I enjoyed the way her mouth opened and closed very fast, without any words coming out.
Cade glared at me, but I wasn’t going to say anything to him while she was still in the car.
‘Go on, get out,’ I repeated.
She looked at Cade who stayed silent. As I hoped and expected, he followed my lead.
Well, just about.
It was the very slightest of nods and eye contact, but enough to tell me there was something between them-
No, stop right there, Erin, I thought.
She reluctantly climbed out. ‘You’re making a big mistake,’ she said to me, and slammed the door shut.
At the time, I just thought it was bravado.
Rookie error.
27
I GOT CALLED into Arnie’s office.
Arnie was sat behind his desk. Superintendent Martin was sitting opposite him in full uniform, his hat resting on his lap. He smiled politely, stood up and extended his hand.
‘Detective Sergeant Erin Dark,’ Arnie said to me, remaining seated, ‘this is Superintendent Martin.’
We exchanged greetings and then he indicated the seat next to him.
Arnie cleared his throat, before speaking. Worryingly, I could tell he was uncomfortable with whatever conversation we were about to have. ‘We thought it worth having a quick chat with you Erin, if that’s okay?’
‘What about Detective Inspector Cade, why isn’t he here?’ I deliberately kept my tone formal. I didn’t know what was coming, but I sure as hell didn’t like being alone in here with Arnie and the Superintendent.
Arnie looked across the table at his boss and then back at me, avoiding direct eye-contact which again, suggested he wasn’t in favour of whatever he was being asked to do.
‘We’ve spoken to John already. We thought we might need a uh…’ he drummed his fingers on the table as he searched for the right words, ‘a slightly different conversation with yourself.’
The Superintendent leaned over towards me. ‘I think you did a fantastic job of identifying Marcus Simms,’ he said. ‘Really very impressive.’
Arnie smiled weakly when I glanced over at him.
‘We just matched the blood found on the first victim, Melissa Fairweather,’ I said.
‘I know,’ the Superintendent said, ‘but we are a team and you, with John Cade, led them.’ He looked at Arnie and beamed. ‘A team effort, eh?’
‘You do know we stopped Marcus Simms outside his college, don’t you?’ I said. ‘But he got away.’
The Superintendent waved his hand dismissively. ‘Stop trying to put yourself down, Detective. I’m not interested in any of that. To be honest I don’t want to know. Don’t need to know. The facts are that we had a serial killer on our streets and now we don’t. That is thanks to you and your team.’
‘With respect sir,’ I said slowly. ‘I don’t believe we are looking for just one killer here.’
Out of the corner of eye, I saw Arnie’s head drop.
The Superintendent looked disappointed with me. ‘Detective Inspector Cade has shared your concerns with us.’
‘I think Marcus Simms murdered Melissa Fairweather, but I’m not convinced that he is responsible for the other “number murders”.’
The Superintendent nodded while I spoke, and for a moment I thought perhaps
he was going to support me on this. But when I finished he looked over at Arnie and I knew they had planned this whole meeting beforehand.
‘We will have the eyes of the world on us imminently,’ the Superintendent said slowly. ‘When the world leaders gather together here I do not want-’ he paused. ‘We do not want the world’s press to be focussed on maniacs- plural, terrorising London’s streets. Not after the incident with those NID terrorists a few weeks ago. No, we can’t have that. One killer on the rampage is bad enough. But a team of serial killers? That is just untenable.’
‘Untenable or not, sir, I think there is a strong possibility that that might be the case.’
‘A strong possibility, you say?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And this is based on what? Forensic evidence? Eyewitness accounts?’ He swivelled around to Arnie. ‘Is there something I haven’t been made aware of?’
Arnie shook his head and the Superintendent turned back to me. ‘So, Detective what do you mean by a “strong possibility”?’
‘Instinct, sir,’ I said weakly. I could hardly tell him what Frankie had “seen”.
The Superintendent smiled. ‘Instinct is good, Detective. I like that. But it is no alternative to hard facts. So, let’s consider them.
‘One, we now have a positive match between Marcus Simms and the blood found on one of the victims.
‘Two, the victims were all numbered by our killer. Now, if we can match Marcus Simms to one of those murders, the obvious connotation is that in time, we will be able to show he killed the others as well.’
I looked at Arnie for support but he looked away.
‘Besides the numbers carved into the bodies,’ I said, ‘there is nothing to link the victims. There’s no connection to our suspect, or to one another.’
Arnie was about to intervene but the Superintendent held up his hand. ‘That’s okay Arnie, it’s important the troops understand they can speak freely.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Within the confines of this office.’ He paused, hoping I would nod my understanding. I didn’t, and he continued. ‘The murders have all been linked by the numbers carved into them. To that end it is reasonable to assume we are after one person. Why should the victims be connected to one another, perhaps they were just randomly selected?’