Solomon's Key

by Tim Ellis

  We brought the television interview forward, and the reporter asking the questions rang his boss. They promised to do half-hourly news flashes leading up to the ten o’clock news. He made it quite clear though that the favour was not altruistic, and that I owed him the equivalent of the Koh-i-Noor diamond.

  ***

  Sitting in the incident room, the normal banter was absent. Like me, the rest of the team felt betrayed. It was ten-past seven, and we all knew time was running out.

  ‘Come on people,’ I said. ‘Let’s catch this bastard and find Suzie, he’s taken us for mugs long enough. Jane, I want you to take his desk apart, see if he’s left anything that will help us.’

  I passed Pea my car keys. ‘Go and break up the poker game in forensics. Get the computer and videotapes from the boot of my car. Tell them I want them to have found something by ten o’clock tonight. Also, ask one of their computer specialists to come up here and take a look at his computer. He might have been careless in his rush to get out of here, and left a clue to Suzie’s whereabouts.’

  She nodded. Having a purpose in life, she shot out through the door.

  ‘Give your friend Father Jacob another ring,’ I said to KP. ‘Ask him if he can spare us an hour of his time and the benefit of his knowledge. Make him aware that Suzie is missing from her hotel room. We want to know if he’s got any other ideas about where Connell might be trying to raise these demons.’

  She pulled out her phone and went out into the corridor for some quiet.

  ‘John, ring Ali, find out what’s happening at Connell’s house.’ I remembered overhearing him telling Jane he lived in a small flat overlooking the Heath in Putney. It wouldn’t take CO19 long to get there or clear it for forensics to search. I doubted very much that they would find him eating a microwave meal for one in front of the television.

  KP came back. ‘Father Jacob’s on his way. He’s a lovely man.’

  ‘I’m sure he is,’ I agreed.

  ‘Sir,’ John said. ‘Ali and Brian are in Paul… eh Connell’s flat.’ He put the speaker on.

  ‘What’s happening Ali?’ I asked.

  ‘CO19 have been and gone. Connell hasn’t lived here for at least a week.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘The place stinks. There’s half a shrivelled pizza in a box. I don’t know where he’s been living, but it hasn’t been here.’

  ‘Is there anything there that could help us find Suzie or tell us where he is?’

  ‘Forensics has found a cardboard box full of papers and files. Darwins is mentioned on some of them. We’re going to leave forensics here to finish off, and we’ll bring the box back with us.’

  ‘See you soon,’ I said.

  ***

  Whilst we were waiting for everyone to arrive, I walked down to the canteen for a coffee and something to eat. I felt emotionally and physically drained. As I sat down with my drink, a plate of lasagne, garlic bread, and a treacle sponge with custard on a tray, the Chief came in and joined me. She looked tired as well, but I guessed not as tired as me.

  ‘You look tired James,’ she said.

  ‘I was just thinking the same thing about you, Chief,’ I countered.

  She gave a wry smile. ‘I’ve been keeping the Chief Constable abreast of events, James.’

  I raised my eyebrows and put a helping of lasagne in my mouth. It was slightly rubbery, but tasted all right.

  ‘In light of your progress today, he has agreed with my suggestion not to replace you.’

  ‘I’m grateful. What about Paul?’

  ‘Your predecessor DCI Willetts took on DC Padgett, you can hardly be held accountable for that. The Chief Constable has said that the damage to the force will be bad enough without losing a DCI as well.’

  Since finding out about Daniel Connell, I had tried not to think too much about what had happened. Now I voiced my concerns to the Chief. ‘As a forensic psychologist and a profiler I have great difficulty in rationalising in my own mind what has happened. I don’t understand how I never suspected that the killer was on my own team. That he was sat here under my nose day-after-day. I’ve been trained to identify the clues, the messages, and the body language. I feel like an idiot. He’s a psychopathic killer for God’s sake. I worked with him for a year and never once did I suspect he was anyone other than Paul Padgett. The press will rip me to shreds, I’ll be the laughing stock of the force.’

  ‘You’re exaggerating, James. Once you’ve had time to think it through, you’ll realise things aren’t as bad as you imagine them to be – everyone was taken in by him, including me.’

  ‘I will probably resign after this case.’

  She got up to leave. ‘Give yourself time, James, don’t say or do anything you might live to regret.’

  Once the Chief had left, I rang Harry.

  ‘It doesn’t look as though I’m going to make it home tonight Harry, we’re closing in on the killer,’ I said hopefully

  I hope you catch him, James. A police constable is still outside so you needn’t worry.

  ‘Is Lexi in bed?’

  It is eight-thirty, and we’ve been out shopping for Christmas presents today, so she was worn out.

  ‘What did I get her?’

  A Little Princess tea set, amongst other crucial items in the Little Princess range.

  ‘Thank you, Harry. I don’t know what I would have done without you. What do you want for Christmas?’ I asked. Not that I would have time to get whatever it was she wanted.

  I don’t need anything, James, but if you insist on wasting your money, WH Smith has a DVD Classic Romance Collection, which includes my all-time favourite, Casablanca. Do you want me to buy it and put it under the tree?

  I laughed. It wasn’t a superficial laugh, but a deep belly laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I had laughed so much. ‘Yes Harry, please do,’ I finally said, but it suddenly came to me what I was going to get her for Christmas besides a DVD collection.

  It took me a number of phone calls, but I eventually got hold of Professor Harold Sanger at the Psychology Department in Cambridge University to organise Harry’s real Christmas present, entry onto a distance Child Psychology PhD beginning in January. I told him I’d pay three years’ fees in advance if he sent me an invoice, and suggested that the two of us could act as dual supervisors to which he agreed.

  ***

  KP came into the canteen. ‘Father Jacob is here, Sir.’

  I finished my coffee and followed her along the corridor to the incident room.

  ‘Father Jacob, thank you for coming,’ I said offering my hand. He shook it warmly, gripping my elbow with his other hand. Today he had on his white collar and cassock, and looked very much the priest.

  ‘I follow where God leads, Chief Inspector. It is God’s will that I am here.’

  I went to the map and pointed to the Sigil. ‘All the murders have taken place in the victim’s home, which correspond to the points on the Sigil.’

  Sitting down in a chair, Father Jacob nodded.

  ‘You said the killer would stick to his plan, and that the final sacrifice would come from the centre of the Sigil’

  ‘Yes, I did say that, but it wasn’t the gospel according to Father Jacob. You know more about the killer’s behaviour than I do.’

  He was right, I thought. Instead of using my knowledge and training, I was relying on other people to come up with answers. When it came to psychopathic behaviour, I was meant to be the expert. ‘OK let’s piece together what we know about his behaviour.’ I picked up a marker pen and stood in front of the whiteboard. The five victims stared out at me. I could do nothing for them except find their killer, but someone had put Suzie’s photograph up, and her eyes begged me to save her.

  ‘He’s neat and tidy,’ KP said.

  I found a small space to write on. ‘Is he?’ I said. ‘Look at Paul’s desk,’ I still thought of the desk as belonging to Paul Padgett. Jane was going through his stuff, and the specialist from forens
ics sat there hacking into his computer. ‘Whilst he was here, Paul’s desk always looked like a hardware store, with wires, gadgets and tools.’

  ‘It was all an act, wasn’t it, Sir? He did the same thing here as he did at Broadmoor.’ KP said.

  ‘Yes.’ Of course it was an act, I thought. Paul Padgett wasn’t real. ‘Everything Connell did was an attempt to make himself appear normal in the eyes of others. He adopted a persona that was the opposite of the psychopath inside, and I would say he’s been very successful.’

  I made notes on the board whilst I talked. ‘He’s been planning his revenge for fourteen years, since 1994 when he read his Social Services record.’

  ‘That would suggest he is inordinately patient,’ Father Jacob said.

  ‘Yes it would, Father,’ KP said. ‘He’s also methodical. His victims, the locations, what he was going to do to them, the messages, they were all probably planned in advance.’

  ‘Irene Stone in 2002 was a trial run,’ I said. ‘That would explain the gap. Once he found that his plan would work, he devoted his time to learning police procedure and burrowing into the team. He must also have had the Claviculæ Salomonis and the Monarchia Daemon prior to 2002 because he took Irene Stone’s hands.’

  ‘If all he wanted was revenge,’ Father Jacob said. ‘Why did he bother with the Claviculæ Salomonis and the Monarchia Daemon, or as the beautiful sergeant says,’ he smiled at KP, ‘the book and the pot? All he had to do was kill the people and he would have had his revenge, but instead he’s gone to a lot of trouble to collect the sacrifices, leave the messages, and so forth. To use your phrase Chief Inspector: What is it all for?’

  ‘That’s a good question, Father,’ I collected my thoughts. ‘He has a narcissistic personality. He wants people to admire his ingenuity, that’s why he rang Sally Renshall, and why he calls me. He thinks he’s unique, special. The attention and affirmation he seeks he obtained from being a member of the team, witnessing us flail about in the dark. It made him feel self-important watching his skills and talents fool the police experts. He’s arrogant, and thinks he’s above the law. We’re all merely players in his sick game. In the end, he wants to be recognised for his intellectual superiority, and his achievements. Raising demons or the removal of body parts is not the purpose of the murders. He derives deep satisfaction from making others suffer, and then watching the effects of what he’s done on others.’

  ‘If that is true Chief Inspector,’ Father Jacob said, ‘it is very sad.’

  ‘The psychopath has no concept of sadness, Father. All he feels is a primitive impulsiveness to dominate, control and subjugate his victims. It makes him feel God-like.’

  Father Jacob shook his head. ‘Unfortunately, he is an evil God then. Going back to your original question, Chief Inspector: Would the final sacrifice come from the centre of the Sigil? What do you think now?’

  ‘What surprises me is that he has taken Suzie. She can’t have been the final sacrifice he originally chose because until a week ago he didn’t know her, and it’s only by chance she chose to stay in the Jumeirah Carlton.’

  ‘If he has changed his plan, then it is because the plan is now better,’ Father Jacob said.

  ‘Or changing the plan better served his purpose.’ It suddenly dawned on me that he had taken Suzie because of me.

  ‘What do you mean, Sir?’ KP said.

  I didn’t want to discuss my sex life in front of Father Jacob so all I said was, ‘We don’t know what his purpose was, but it seems that he has got Suzie.’

  I thanked Father Jacob for his help and KP escorted him out. When she came back she said, ‘Come on what did you mean, Sir?’

  ‘What if he took Suzie because I’d slept with her?’

  ‘Why would he do that, Sir?

  ‘I have no idea, but since Sally’s murder he’s made it personal hasn’t he?’

  ‘You’re becoming more paranoid than you normally are.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ***

  At nine fifty-five Ali and Brian came in, Brian puffing and panting under the weight of a large heavy cardboard box.

  He dropped the box on Ali’s desk. ‘Bloody hell,’ he gasped. Leaning over, he put his hands on his thighs and took deep breaths.

  ‘You look as though you’re going to die in service.’ KP said. ‘Have you given up smoking yet?’

  He stood up stretching backwards and massaging his lower back. ‘Does it look like I have?’

  ‘No, that’s why I asked. Who do you want us to send your personal effects to?’

  ‘Ha, very funny.’

  Ali said, ‘Forensics found something else in Paul’s flat.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Bones.’

  ‘Fish bones? Chicken bones?’

  ‘Human bones?’

  ‘And...?’

  ‘Well, they’ve got to analyse them, but I was thinking on the way back. Daniel probably killed the real Paul Padgett and stole his identity, and the bones are his remains.’

  ‘That’s an excellent idea, Ali. It would explain how he managed to wheedle his way into the force. Let the Chief know the next time you see her, it could save them some time in the internal investigation.’

  We didn’t have any more time to pursue Ali’s idea, or look in the box because Pea’s phone rang.

  She picked it up. ‘OK, we’ll be right down.’ She replaced the phone in its cradle. ‘That was forensics. They want us to go down so they can show us what they’ve found on the old computer and the tapes you brought back from Broadmoor.’

  I looked at my watch, it was exactly ten o’clock. ‘We went down two flights of stairs and along the corridor to the annex that had been specifically built to house the new forensic laboratories with all their sophisticated equipment.

  We were ushered into a brightly lit room with white walls and light blue safety flooring. I parked myself on a stool in front of a large display screen, and the others followed suit. The old computer lay on a bench to one side with its guts hanging out, an array of wires connected to the hard drive breathing life back into the geriatric machine.

  What looked like a teenager with shoulder-length greasy hair and livid spots around his mouth sauntered in as if he were the Head of Forensics. I wondered why everyone looked so young all of a sudden. Maybe I was getting old.

  ‘I’m Perry, one of the graduate IT technicians. Before I move on Sir, I’ve been told to tell you that someone is looking at the camera from the corridor outside Miss Palton’s room, but we won’t know the answers to your questions until tomorrow morning.’

  I suspected that the person responsible for the work had gone home to his family and left it until the morning. ‘OK, let’s hope Daniel Connell takes the night off as well.’

  He ignored my comment. ‘What information do you need from this antique, Sir?’ he said pointing at the old computer. He seemed so self-assured.

  ‘Any reference to Darwins,’ I said.

  He keyed in the name. A long list began to scroll down the screen. ‘A very old programme had been used to completely wipe the hard drive,’ Perry said, as if any of us were listening, or for that matter interested, ‘but as long as there is no physical damage, we can always find a way to recover the data.’

  The scrolling eventually stopped and Perry said, ‘That seemed to be one of the main things he was looking at on this computer.’

  ‘What else did he look at?’ KP jumped in before me.

  He brought up a dialogue box, input a query and another list scrolled down the screen. ‘The top three are something called Solomon’s Key, grimoires – whatever they are – and a Monarchia Daemon. Do they mean anything to you?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Perry’ I said. ‘That information confirms what we already knew and provides us with evidence of a link to Darwins when we go to court. Can you print off everything you’ve recovered and send it upstairs?’

  ‘No problem, Sir. You should also know that he was looking at removal of body organs, a
nd you were on his shopping list.’

  ‘Me!’ Everyone looked at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted horns. We didn’t even know each other until the beginning of this year when I took the job. He was released from Broadmoor in 2002, which meant that he was investigating me six years before we met. ‘I wonder why?’

  Perry shrugged. ‘I can only tell you what I see, Sir.’ He pointed to a row of data with hyphens, slashes, and abbreviations that to us, well me anyway – and I wasn’t in the dummy category when it came to computers – looked like another ancient language. ‘He seemed to be particularly interested in your career once you joined the force.’

  Did he manoeuvre himself into the team knowing I would get the job? Why? What interest did he have in me? He joined the old Murder Team two years before I did, how could he know I would be appointed? Was it an accident I ended up in the same team he was in? It didn’t bear thinking about. I began to get a sinking feeling. The Chief had rung me up asking me to apply. Had he manipulated her into choosing me? Why? It all seemed too bizarre to be real.

  Perry swapped some wires over and a defiant young man appeared on the screen and stared at us from another time and place. It was a poor quality picture, but a younger Paul was instantly recognisable with shoulder-length brown wavy hair and long thin face.

  ‘I think that we are making progress, Daniel.’ We could only see Daniel Connell. I assumed it was Doctor Mayberry who had spoken. ‘You’ve been here three months now, how do you feel?’

  ‘I feel much better, Doctor,’ Daniel said, telling Mayberry what he wanted to hear. ‘I feel... normal.’

  ‘That’s a strange word to use, Daniel. Describe what you mean by normal.’

  ‘I feel calm, there’s no anger inside me. I like people, I like talking to them, being in their company. I want to smile at people, rather than hit out at them.’