‘Sneaky bastards. How did they do that?’
‘It’s a police-authorised social media account. It wouldn’t have been difficult to get the password, with the right authorisation.’
‘I take it they haven’t found him … the Raven,’ Jennifer said; she had thought not, judging by her DI’s disgruntled expression.
‘Of course they haven’t. We’d planned for Zoe to infiltrate the group slowly and put her undercover experience to good use, but they just went bowling in there.’
‘So what now?’ Jennifer said.
‘You head back to the nick with Zoe while I speak to the DCI here. Zoe’s waiting in the car, there’s no point in compromising her identity,’ Ethan said, his voice tinged with annoyance.
‘But what about the interviews, boss? Shouldn’t we head back to Lexton to get the ball rolling?’
‘No. Take Zoe back to Haven and await further instruction,’ Ethan said firmly.
Jennifer sighed. There was no reasoning with him when he was like this. He was too busy gearing up for turf wars, police style.
Zoe’s black baseball hat sat low on her forehead during the drive back to the station, reminding Jennifer of a sullen teen. She was relieved she turned down Zoe’s offer to drive. She seemed to be in a worse mood than Ethan, and that was saying something.
‘They’ve made some drug arrests, and seized some DMT,’ Jennifer said. ‘Hopefully they’ll be able to get some decent intel in interview.’
‘Not with those bunch of clowns interviewing them,’ Zoe said. ‘They don’t know what they’re dealing with.’
‘I don’t get how people have kept quiet about it for so long. It’s been going on for months now, I would have thought someone would have given their location away.’
Zoe slouched in her seat. ‘There’s no chance of that. They know what happens to people who squeal.’
‘If they’re so scared, why are so many people desperate to join? Is it for the drugs or the promise of redemption? DMT’s not addictive, is it?’
‘It’s not about addiction. The people who join The Reborners have lived very troubled lives. The cult makes big promises, and it delivers. DMT is mindblowing. It can literally help people become born again.’
‘Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.’
Zoe lifted her cap, giving Jennifer a sly grin. ‘If I had, I wouldn’t admit it to a fellow copper. I like my job too much.’
Jennifer smiled. The more she talked to Zoe, the more intriguing she became. ‘But the effects are hallucinatory. Aren’t all drugs are like that?’
‘They’re not random trips, lots of people report visiting the same spiritual dimension. It’s a process. Each time you do it, you progress further, receiving messages, communicating with higher realms. The drug doesn’t stay in your system like others do, but the psychological effects are long term.’
‘Why are people killing themselves, if it’s so great?’
‘DMT fucks up your head for one, and can give you flashbacks. Long-term users can disassociate themselves from reality, although it’s beyond me how anyone can do DMT for very long. It’s not like recreational drugs, it’s heavy shit – and if you have a bad trip …’ Zoe whistled. ‘It’s enough to make you lose your mind.’
‘Hence the suicides. So what happened when you did it?’ Jennifer asked.
Zoe smiled knowingly. ‘Cheeky. We’d have to be on intimate terms for me to tell you that.’
Jennifer smiled as she pulled into the station car park, feeling very much like she was being flirted with. ‘You know, I’d never take drugs, but if I was held at gunpoint and forced to choose one …’
‘Then choose weed,’ Zoe said. ‘DMT’s not for you. Believe me, babe, you don’t want to go there.’
[#]
The first thing Jennifer did when she got back to the station was log on to the custody system to read the updates on the arrests. The updates were disappointing, with five people nicked, out of a group of over fifty members. Five people, in a drug-fuelled oblivion, who spoke of meeting mother earth and beings from another dimension. None of them stood out as having any prior dealings with the police, and one was actually a vicar. Jennifer swivelled her chair around as Claire exited her office.
‘Sarge, check this out. One of the suspects is a vicar! Hopefully he’ll have an attack of conscience and give us some names.’
‘From what I’ve heard so far, not many people were privy to names,’ Claire said, flatly. ‘Their so-called leader wore a mask.’
Zoe piped up. ‘Interesting, reminds me a bit of the Wizard of Oz. I wonder if Bert Bishop was the one behind the curtain?’
Claire folded her arms and sat on the edge of her desk. ‘We’ll be the last ones to know if he is. Ethan’s just called in. He doesn’t want us helping Lexton with the interviews.’
Jennifer frowned, her voice rising in her throat. ‘What? He can’t do that!’
‘He has,’ Claire said. ‘He’s had a bust-up with the DCI and threatened to cut all ties. He’s told me to inform you that from now on we keep our own cases.’
‘But what about this case?’ Jennifer said. ‘We need to speak to the suspects in custody.’
Claire emitted a sigh. ‘I’m sorry. This is my fault. I should have insisted we kept ownership from the start. Ethan will be back later. He’ll explain things then.’
Jennifer decided not to impart the response resting on her tongue, instead nodding in mock understanding. Lexton had been using them all along. She lowered her eyes to the floor, too annoyed to speak. She would go it alone if she had to. She had a connection with the Raven, something Lexton MIT couldn’t comprehend. He would be hers, even if it meant risking her job.
Chapter Forty-Three
‘Thanks for arranging to meet up, Jenny,’ Christian said, as Jennifer rested the cappuccinos on the table. She took a seat in his booth, adjusting her ears to the chatter of a language she did not understand. The town had been flooded with foreign students during the Easter break, and Haven’s coffee shops and eateries now came filled with noisy queues. She returned her attention to Christian. Clean-shaven and well-dressed, he appeared a lot more together than the last time they met. It felt like the old days, meeting up for a coffee in town.
She had forgotten many of her school friends to concentrate on her career, but her friendship with Christian was something she was happy to resurrect, particularly if she gleaned any new information about the Raven. Jennifer felt a pang of sympathy, wondering if Christian’s showbiz friends had deserted him now he was in the throes of grief.
‘Everyone calls me Jennifer now,’ she said. ‘I left Jenny behind after I finished school. How are you doing?’
Christian wrapped his hands around his mug. ‘It comes in waves. I feel guilty for talking about Felicity all the time, because people must be getting sick of hearing me go on about her. The problem is, I can’t think of anything else.’
‘Well you can talk to me. I know what it’s like to lose a loved one.’ Jennifer stirred in her sugar, wishing they had arranged to meet somewhere quieter. She leaned forward, resisting the urge to rest her hand on his. ‘I won’t tell you that you’ll get over it because you won’t, but it will get easier as time goes by.’
Christian nodded slowly. ‘My mother keeps telling me I should go for grief counselling, but I want to wait a few weeks, see how I feel then.’
‘That sounds sensible. I remember when my mum died I didn’t want to talk about her to anyone. Now … well, I’m moving forward with my life, and I think she’d be happy about that.’
Christian drew in a small intake of breath. ‘How insensitive of me, waffling on about myself after you losing your mum at such an early age.’
‘Don’t be daft. I don’t have the monopoly on grief,’ Jennifer said, relieved to hear the cacophony of noise float out of the building as the foreign students disappeared with their takeaway cups.
Christian gave a faint smile. ‘I can’t tell you how good it is
to meet up with someone from the old days. The showbiz scene is everything I ever wanted, but some of the people I work with are very jaded. That’s what I liked about Felicity, she was so exuberant, so full of life. She loved being in the spotlight, but she never forgot her humble beginnings.’
Jennifer thought of the young girl, due to get married with her whole life ahead of her. ‘I’m sorry, Christian. You know if there was anything I could have done to have stopped this …’
‘Don’t think that for a second, and I didn’t mean what I said before about warning you something was going to happen. The only person to blame for this is my cousin. I’m convinced of it now. I haven’t had one phone call from him since Felicity died. Killing Felicity was revenge for me refusing to take him in.’ Christian paused to swallow his coffee. ‘I’ve written down some things about my cousin that I didn’t mention before; perhaps it might help with your enquiries.’
Christian spent the next twenty minutes filling Jennifer in on his cousin’s strange behaviour: what he knew about his background, what his mother had told him about Bert’s family, and his last contact. But it was nothing Jennifer had not already gleaned from Dr Carter.
Her phone began to vibrate on the table and she frowned at the unknown number. ‘Sorry, Christian, do you mind if I take this?’
‘Go ahead, I’ll get us another coffee.’
Jennifer gave him the thumbs-up sign as she pressed the answer button. She really should be heading back, but Christian had brightened so much since coming out, she didn’t have the heart to say goodbye.
‘Hello?’ Jennifer said as she answered her phone. There was silence on the other end. She strained her ears to hear breathing in the background. She was in no mood to deal with a prank caller. ‘You have three seconds to speak or I’m hanging up. One … Two …’
‘Wait, Jennifer, it’s me.’
Jennifer frowned. ‘Who?’ The answer came as soon as she had uttered the words.
‘It’s me, dad.’
Her stomach flipped. It was her turn to remain silent, and it took several hellos before she spoke.
‘How did you get my number?’ she said, a trickle of fury rising within.
‘I took it from Amy’s phone.’
‘You took it, not asked for it I presume.’
‘I don’t want to argue, Jenny, I just want to talk.’
Jennifer cringed at the sound of her name being shortened for the second time that day. It served as a reminder of a past she would rather forget. ‘It’s Jennifer. And I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘You seem to be carrying a lot of anger. I think it would be good for us to talk about things, move forward.’
You want to blame me for everything you mean, Jennifer thought. She glanced around the coffee shop. She wouldn’t put it past him to be watching her, gauging her reaction. So she did what she always did when she was trying to conceal her fury. She put on her best telephone voice and responded the same way she did to the cold callers that plagued her home number. ‘No thank you, I’m perfectly happy as I am. Now if you don’t mind I’m in the middle of something. Please don’t bother me again.’
Jennifer swiftly ended the call and switched her phone to silent. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, and opened them to find Christian sitting in front of her. His awkward smile displayed his discomfort. ‘Sorry. Private call?’
She shrugged apologetically as she accepted another coffee. ‘It’s my dad. I haven’t heard from him in a decade and suddenly he wants to be friends.’
‘I take it that you don’t want to?’ Christian said.
Jennifer tore off the strips from two sugar sachets and poured their contents into the hot, frothy liquid. The chocolate powder design sank with the brown sugar, and she watched it all dissolve as she stirred it together.
‘You don’t know my father. He can’t take responsibility for anything, including his own emotions. He’ll always look for something, or someone, to fix things, because he can’t do it himself. He tried it with the booze and now he’s trying it with me. I’m not having it.’
‘Sounds like you’ve given it a lot of thought.’
Jennifer gave a short laugh. ‘You could say that. And I know people would say that life is short, and I should make up with him, but it’s because life is short that I’m keeping well away. I don’t want to waste my time with him.’ She glanced up from her coffee, trying to read his expression. ‘You probably think I’m a real cow.’
‘Actually you’re wrong. I remember what it was like for you growing up. From what I heard, your father was no help at all.’
‘Oh yeah? You must have thought we were a right band of commoners,’ Jennifer said, remembering her old school days. The darned tights, the second-hand uniforms. Christian was right. Her father was of no help at all.
‘I wouldn’t say that. I remember my parents talking about what a great police officer your mother was. Mum used to say that she made it her business to know everyone in Haven. Of course, the place was a lot smaller back then. But they were very sad when she died. I don’t think your father was seen as a bad person, but it was no secret that he liked a drink. I think you’ve done very well with your life, considering all the upset you’ve been through.’
Jennifer may have taken offence if anyone else had dissected her home life like that, particularly people who had come from a privileged background themselves. But there was something about Christian’s honeyed tones that made her feel better. Despite what he was going through himself, he still tried to provide comfort and reassurance to others. It just seemed to come naturally to him.
‘Thanks. My days of dwelling on the past are behind me. I just want to move on,’ Jennifer said, knowing that was not strictly true.
Christian displayed a smile full of warmth and empathy. ‘I know it was the worst possible circumstances but I’m glad we were thrown together. In my line of work you just don’t know who your real friends are.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it. We’ll have to do this again.’ Jennifer looked at her watch then downed the rest of her coffee. ‘I’m afraid I have to dash, but thanks for the coffees, my treat next time.’
Christian left with Jennifer as she pulled on her jacket. ‘If you hear anything about Bert you’ll let me know, won’t you? I can’t relax at night, knowing he’s still out there. I told the kids’ mum they can’t stay over until he’s caught. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to them.’
‘Your home is like Fort Knox, and the police are all over this. As soon as he’s apprehended I’ll let you know.’
‘He’s here somewhere,’ Christian said, as they entered the car park. ‘Haven is such a rat run of lanes and hideaways, but he can’t stay hidden forever.’
‘Exactly. And as soon as he comes out, we’ll be waiting. Just call me if you have any concerns, but in the meantime just take each day as it comes.’
Christian reached out his arms to give her a hug. It was one of the things she liked about him. He was never afraid to show his emotions.
Jennifer waved Christian off as he drove past, leaning against her car, mulling over her father’s call. She took her phone out to delete the recent call history then paused. Perhaps it’s better to keep his number, she thought, in case I need to get in touch. Her finger hovered over the delete button. Then again, I could save it under ‘Twat’ and then I’d know if he tried to call me again, she thought. She giggled to herself, and saved it under the letter ‘D’ for dad. It was as much as he deserved.
Her eyes flicked up to the sky and she was relieved to see an absence of ravens. Pinkish candy-floss clouds streaked the sky, intermingling with white smoky chemtrails as the sun went down. One of her mother’s sayings repeated in her mind. ‘Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight.’ Jennifer wondered what sort of worries her mum had at her age. Not serial killers and rabid ravens. As far as she knew, her mother dealt with only one killer in her lifetime. Jennifer shook her head. Only one. As if dealing with lots of serial killers
was normal. For Jennifer, she knew terror would seek her out in every form. At least now she felt strong enough to know she would cope with whatever was thrown at her. Life had changed so much in the last year, yet she was feeling stronger now than ever. She was her own woman, had her own independence, and the strength to stand up to her father. Even the memories of the past could not hurt her any more. It was just as well. She would never truly be free of it.
Chapter Forty-Four
Bert
* * *
Bert peered through the car window down the quiet cul de sac. His time on the streets was severely restricted, now Haven was crawling with police. It wasn’t the only thing that was crawling; the intense itching had returned like fire ants, boring tunnels under the surface of his skin. He had seen it in the cards. There would be another death before the homeless man’s prediction came true.
It could not come quick enough as far as Bert was concerned. A mixture of torture and excitement heightened his senses. His cards had led him here, where all the houses looked the same, their low brick walls skirted by small neat flower gardens. All square, boring and functional. Not like the house he shared with mother. But mother was gone. He accepted that now. The cause of her death was murky. Had he really killed her? Or had he frightened her before he left, wrapping his fingers around her throat, only to release them as she cried out for mercy? Years of drug-taking had addled his brain. But it was not the recreational kind. The memories of The Rivers mental health facility had slowly returned, ebbing like the tide, bringing him nearer to lucidity. The closer he got to his end goal, the clearer his mind became.
He returned his attention to the task in hand. Net curtains twitched next door as a silver Mercedes pulled up on a driveway, the glint of the evening sun dazzling against the metallic paint. A pair of long bronzed legs stepped out of the driver’s side, attached to a pair of red high heels. Despite her short leather mini skirt and low-cut blouse, the woman alit with reasonable grace. Her long black hair contrasting against her sheer white blouse, she tottered to the boot of the car, wrapping her polished nails around the handles of the various pink glossy shopping bags. Bert squinted as she dropped her car keys, bending from the waist to pick them up. He tutted as he leaned forward for a better view. He could almost see her knickers as her skirt rode up her thighs. This woman clearly did not care about revealing her body to all and sundry. The next-door neighbour’s curtains twitched a second time as the woman walked up her short drive with her purchases. Bert pulled his keys from the ignition and stepped out of the van. She was too wrapped up in her purchases to notice, and closed her front door behind her.
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