Solomon's Key

by Tim Ellis

  The lift came to a screeching halt and the door opened onto a dark basement corridor.

  ‘No lights either?’ I asked.

  He stepped out of the lift and switched the lights on. ‘We had to shut off the electric in the East Wing during the floods, but we’re not there yet. We have some way to go before we reach the East Wing.’

  As KP and I stepped out of the lift and followed Albert along the dimly lit corridor, I was beginning to think this whole thing was a bad idea. If we weren’t struggling for time, I would have sent some uniforms down tomorrow morning to find what we wanted.

  Eventually, we arrived at a door, beyond which, Albert informed us, was the haunted East Wing. Jangling the rusty keys to find the right one, he unlocked the door with a grunt and pushed it open. The torch he held barely penetrated the darkness, the light reflecting off the water on the floor, which began shortly after the open door.

  We sloshed through the water. KP made grunting noises, which I translated as her being unhappy. I can’t say that I was enjoying myself either. My leather shoes and suit would be ruined. We didn’t see or hear any poltergeists.

  We arrived at a heavy metal door with a small glass window at eye-level. ‘This is the first of six rooms containing the asylum records,’ Albert said.

  He passed the torch to me whilst he unlocked the door.

  ‘Is this the actual asylum?’ I asked.

  Albert shouldered the door open and took the torch back. ‘So I believe,’ he said. ‘The asylum was what we now call the East Wing. It’s completely closed down and waiting for funds to demolish it and re-build. Apparently, the hospital has had plans and a wonderful scale model in a glass case for years, but not the money.’

  Albert stepped away from the door and shone the torch inside the room. I don’t know what we expected to see, but there were cardboard boxes stacked from floor to ceiling. We couldn’t get in the room because the stacks began immediately beyond the swing of the door.

  ‘Are all the rooms like this?’ I asked.

  ‘More or less,’ Albert replied. ‘The plan was to copy all these records on to computer discs, and then dispose of them. The flooding put paid to that. Nobody wanted to come down here in the dark and get their feet wet afterwards.’

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this, Sir?’ KP asked.

  I wasn’t sure at all, but what choice did I have. ‘We should at least make a start,’ I said. I looked at my watch – eight forty-five. ‘Ring the others, see if there are any developments.’

  Albert made a noise like a pig snuffling for truffles.

  Pulling out her phone, she moved away from the door. After a while she said, ‘We’re that far underground, there’s no signal.’

  I paddled through the six inches of water into the room and stared at the boxes with my hands on my hips. I was trying to work out the mechanics. I couldn’t climb onto the boxes, because there was no room between the top box and the mildewed ceiling. If I manhandled a box from the top of a stack, I could only put it on the floor in the water, which would have been stupid.

  ‘It isn’t going to work,’ I said.

  ‘What isn’t?’ KP asked.

  ‘There’s nowhere to put the boxes apart from on the floor in the water.’

  ‘Good. Let’s leave it until tomorrow, Sir,’ KP said. I sensed desperation in her voice.

  There seemed to be no point in prolonging our abortive efforts to access the asylum records. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘Get a team of uniforms on it first thing in the morning, whilst I’m briefing the Chief.’

  Relieved, KP smiled. ‘I’ll be claiming for new shoes and a trouser suit,’ she said as she sloshed up the corridor towards the exit.

  ‘She don’t sound too happy, mate,’ Albert said.

  ‘No she doesn’t does she?’ I replied.

  ‘That’s because I’m not, and stop talking about me behind my back.’

  ***

  It was ten-fifteen. KP phoned the others for updates as I drove out of the hospital car park. Pea and Brian had just left Social Services and were on their way back to the station.

  ‘Tell them to go home,’ I said to KP.

  ‘Don’t you want to know what they found out?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it can wait until the morning. Send them home and tell them there’ll be a briefing at eight. Oh, and ring Paul and Jane at the station and send them home as well. We all need a good night’s sleep.’

  KP did as I asked. We sat in silence as I drove her home.

  ‘Thanks, Sir,’ she said as I pulled up outside her flat in Shepherd’s Bush, which wasn’t too far away from where I lived. ‘What time are you picking me up?’

  ‘I’ll see you at seven-fifteen,’ I said. ‘Let’s get an early start.’

  She nodded, opened the door and climbed out. ‘Goodnight, Sir.’

  ‘Goodnight, see you in the morning.’

  It didn’t take me long to reach my flat. After parking, I let myself into the building. A PC sat dozing outside the front door, but sprang to attention when he heard me walk down the corridor.

  ‘Evening, Sir,’ he said.

  ‘Good evening, Constable. All quiet?’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’

  ‘You can knock off now, and thanks,’ I said opening the front door. ‘Send a replacement for six-thirty tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Will do, Sir.’

  He wandered off as I shut the door.

  Harry was still up even though it was ten forty-five. If there was a romantic black and white film on, Harry could be found squatting on the sofa and guarding the remote. I didn’t have time to watch television, so she had it all to herself.

  I opened the door to the living room. ‘I’m making a coffee, do you want one, Harry?’ She and Lexi had obviously been busy during my absence. I could see and smell a real six-foot Christmas tree draped in tinsel, flashing lights, and red and silver balls stood in the corner by the front window. Underneath the tree, stacked haphazardly, were about six presents. I wondered briefly whom they were for.

  ‘No thanks, James,’ she said without turning round. She was obviously wrapped up in the film she was watching.

  I went into the kitchen, put the kettle on and sat at the table. I thought about the strange day I’d had. In some ways, we had made significant progress by eliminating all the suspects Patrick Darwin had identified. In other ways, we had moved backwards because all we were left with was a boy – now a man – who was a long shot to say the least.

  Harry came in as the water boiled and the kettle clicked off. I stood and began to make a mug of coffee whilst she leant against the kitchen top watching me.

  ‘You’re late,’ she said as if I wasn’t aware of the fact. ‘Lexi has missed you this weekend.’

  Anger bubbled inside me like molten lava, but I kept it from erupting. I didn’t want to lose the best nanny in the world. Harry didn’t mean anything by her comments. ‘It can’t be helped I’m afraid. This is a difficult case, and as you’ve probably heard on the news, we’re not making much headway.’

  ‘The constable that came introduced himself, but he didn’t tell me why he was here.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I should have phoned. It’s unlikely, but it’s been suggested that the killer’s next victim will have a name beginning with ‘L’.’

  Even though it was nearly midnight, Harry was quick. ‘Lexi?’ she said. I could have done with her on the team. She wasn’t a dullard either. When I had interviewed the ten applicants for the role of Lexi’s nanny, her curriculum vitae stood out from the crowd. She had Bachelor and Master’s degrees in Child Psychology from Bristol and Oxford. I was suitably impressed. I rang her tutor at Oxford who said that she was a star pupil and should have continued on to do her doctorate, but she couldn’t be persuaded.

  ‘Yes, Lexi. I arranged protection to be on the safe side, even though she doesn’t fit the victim profile. I needed to focus my mind on the job, not spend the day worrying about you and Lexi.’

>   Harry raised an eyebrow and blushed. ‘Me?’

  I don’t think I’d seen her blush before. ‘You’re part of the family, you’re here with my daughter. No doubt you would get in the way of what the killer wanted. Anyway, let’s not go down that road.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve had chance to buy Lexi any Christmas presents?’

  I rolled my eyes and smiled.

  ‘Do you want me to do the honours?’

  I felt terrible, but what choice did I have? ‘Yes please.’

  She smiled. ‘I was going to go home to Manchester to see my parents, but because of what’s happening I’ve told them I can’t come this year.’

  ‘You didn’t need to do that,’ I said, but it was half-hearted. I’d have had real problems if she had decided to go.

  ‘I know, but to be honest, I’d much rather be here than at home stuck in the middle of an extended family quarrel. At least now I have an excuse not to go.’

  I knew she was lying, but I was grateful anyway. I met her parents when they had come to London on a shopping trip. Harry had been embarrassed, but I they were wonderful people, not least because her father drank draft Guinness. I would have to make it up to her and her parents. ‘Thank you,’ I said.

  ‘Anyway, I’m off to bed now,’ she said.

  ‘Goodnight, Harry, and thanks. Oh by the way, the tree looks great.’

  She smiled. ‘Lexi wanted to surprise you.’

  I finished my coffee, switched off the kitchen light and went in to kiss Lexi.

  Her eyes opened as I leaned over. ‘Goodnight, daddy,’ she mumbled and turned over.

  I kissed her on the cheek. ‘Goodnight precious.’

  In my bedroom, I sat on the bed bone weary, stripped off my clothes and threw them on the floor, then crawled underneath the quilt. As I drifted off to sleep, I remembered that I’d forgotten all about Suzie Palton.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Monday 23rd December

  My mobile buzzed and vibrated on the bedside table. I looked at the digital clock – it was five o’clock. I switched the light on, sat up and swung my legs off the bed. As I picked up the phone and flipped it open, my heart leapt into my mouth. The caller ID told me it was the killer – he was still using Sally Renshall’s phone. I pressed accept and held it to my ear.

  Hello Harte, me again.

  I could hear my heart galloping. ‘Well?’

  You don’t sound as if you’re in a very good mood Chief Inspector, is something wrong?

  ‘What do you want, you sick bastard?’

  I don’t want anything, I think I have everything I need, but thank you for asking. You, on the other hand, might want something.

  ‘I don’t want anything from you except your name.’

  The one thing I can’t give you, but you are getting close. What I can give you is an address so that you can locate the next victim.

  What did he mean: “You are getting close?” ‘I’m waiting.’

  What, no small talk? No, hey you’re doing a good job fella, because we haven’t got a clue who you are? I’m disappointed Harte. I thought you of all people might be able to appreciate the planning and execution that has gone into my little project. Oh well, nearly finished now, then we’ll see whether these demons will do my bidding. If it all works out, I’d say goodbye to everyone you love because things are going to get a bit messy.

  “You of all people?” What did he mean by that? ‘You’re insane.’

  Don’t say that, Harte, don’t ever say that. The one thing I’m not is insane.

  He sounded as if I’d got to him, and I wondered what that was about. ‘Are you going to tell me the address, or do I have to listen to more of your bleating?’

  157 St Paul’s Road, Highbury.

  The phone went dead. I had a nagging feeling I should know that address. I phoned the communications center. ‘Did you get that?’

  Yes, Sir. A female voice said.

  ‘Where is he?’

  We’ve lost the signal again, but he was in St Paul’s Road, Highbury.

  ‘OK thanks. Contact Hammersmith and tell them to arrange for forensics and Doctor Holmes to attend, and to send a patrol car to secure the crime scene.’

  Yes, Sir.

  I ended the call and phoned KP. At the same time I walked out of the bedroom, along the hallway, and into the kitchen to put the kettle on. ‘Another one,’ I said when KP answered. ‘157 St Paul’s Road, Highbury.’

  That’s Patrick Darwin’s home.

  ‘Oh God no,’ I said. I thought the address sounded familiar. Tabloid headlines ticker-taped behind my eyes. ‘His daughter is meant to be in Burma. Paul confirmed it twice, didn’t he?’

  Yes he did, she said.

  Anger smoldered inside me. What was going on? How had Paul got it so wrong? ‘Ring Paul, get him there.’ I snapped. ‘I want answers.’

  What about Lisa Connell’s records?

  Of course, even though we had another body, we still needed to find the killer. ‘Ring Ali, tell her to deal with it. We also need Suzie to decipher the message.’

  I’ll ring them, but Ali might still be stuck on the M1 or in a hotel room somewhere near it.

  I’d forgotten about Ali and Brian being snowbound on the M1. ‘Then get Jane or Pea onto it. Surely we have enough competent people to get things done? I want to see you there in an hour.’

  My car’s at the station. You were picking me up.

  ‘Oh yeah. Get a taxi, I’ll see you there in about an hour.’

  ‘Thanks a lot.’

  I hung up, and finished making my coffee. What in hell was going on? If the killer said the body was at Patrick Darwin’s address then it must be Letitia Darwin. There seemed to be no point in torturing myself, I wasn’t going to get any answers sat here. I threw back my coffee and went for a shower.

  Harry and Lexi were sat at the table when I returned to the kitchen at five twenty-five.

  ‘Daddy,’ Lexi shouted.

  I was surprised she recognized me. It had been days since she had seen me for any length of time. I leaned down and kissed her on the top of the head. ‘Hello beautiful. Have you been a good girl?’

  ‘Yes, daddy.’

  ‘Then I’m sure Santa will stop here with a special present addressed to Miss Lexi Harte.’

  ‘Little Princess,’ she squealed and clapped her hands together in excitement.

  ‘Is that what you’ve written in your letter to Santa?’ I asked as I put two pieces of wholemeal bread in the toaster.

  She gave an exaggerated nod.

  ‘Then I’m sure that’s what Santa will bring. He always reads the letters he gets from good boys and girls at Christmas.’

  Harry smiled.

  I made a coffee. My toast sprang up. I took one piece out, put some butter on it and ate it leaning against the kitchen top watching my daughter. I checked my watch – five thirty-five.

  ‘I have to go, Lexi,’ and leaned down for her to kiss me on the lips. To Harry I said, ‘There’s been another one.’

  ‘Was that what the phone call was about?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good luck, James.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ***

  I arrived at 157 St Paul’s Road in Highbury at six-fifty. An empty police car was parked on the main road; I pulled in behind it and stepped out. Heavy snow had been falling for about an hour. Traffic was nearly at a standstill. A smattering of pedestrians were slip sliding along frozen pavements, and a pack of reporters were trying to find out what drama was unfolding at 157.

  ‘Is it another murder, Chief Inspector?’

  ‘That’s five bodies now, Chief Inspector. Have you actually got any suspects?’

  ‘You don’t have a clue who’s killing these women do you, Chief Inspector?’

  ‘There will be a press briefing at the station at two o’clock this afternoon,’ I said, ignoring their questions, and walked down the long entrance towards what looked like a five-bedroom house
. An ambulance had reversed down the driveway. As I reached the back of the vehicle, I saw the doors were open and I looked inside. I wished I hadn’t. Patrick Darwin, and I assumed his wife, were sat on a stretcher with blankets wrapped around them. They looked pale and heart-broken.

  ‘I trusted you, Chief Inspector,’ Patrick said accusingly when he saw me. ‘How could you have let this happen? She was meant to be in Burma until tomorrow evening. You checked. You said she was still there.’ He burst into tears. ‘She’s not meant to be here, our lovely Letitia.’

  I had no answers for him. I was as confused and angry as he was. I mumbled, ‘I’m sorry,’ at him, but it was totally inadequate, and carried on towards the house.

  Forensics’ officers had arrived. Their van was parked so that it could not be seen from the road. A police constable I didn’t recognize stood outside the front door. I took a suit, mask, gloves, and overshoes from a box and put them on outside the open front door.

  ‘Morning, Sir,’ KP called from inside the spacious hallway. ‘What a bloody mess.’

  ‘Is Paul here yet?’

  ‘No. I couldn’t get any answer from his home number or his mobile. I’ll try him again soon.’

  ‘It is Letitia Darwin then?’ I asked as I stepped into the hallway.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Tell me what happened.’

  ‘Patrick and his wife went out last night at eight o’clock with friends to a solicitor’s function,’ she said as we made our way up the staircase. ‘They arrived back at about midnight and went straight to bed.’

  ‘And they didn’t hear or see anything?’

  ‘Their daughter’s room is in an extension above the garage.’ She pointed to the farthest ornate door of five leading off the landing. ‘That’s the Darwin’s bedroom.’ She led me to the right to a corridor at the end of the landing. ‘This corridor leads to their daughter’s bedroom.’ The corridor seemed to separate the room from the main part of the house. ‘We already know that the killer gags the victims. So no, neither of them saw or heard anything, and they weren’t expecting to because the room was meant to be empty until tomorrow night. He entered the house through the back door after the Darwin’s had gone out, stayed in the daughter’s room during the night, and left immediately after he rang you through the front door, which was ajar when the uniforms arrived.’