The Jigsaw Man

by Nadine Matheson

  ‘You would find it fascinating,’ Stanford mumbled under his breath.

  ‘Kobayashi,’ Mark continued, ‘preyed on suicidal women online. Convinced them to come to his home and to take part in a suicide pact. Obviously, that didn’t happen.’

  ‘What did he do?’ Ramouter asked.

  ‘Funnily enough, he dismembered them too. He also went a little bit further than that. He completely dissected them, threw their organs and flesh into the communal rubbish bin and kept the bones in storage boxes.’

  Henley looked around the room. Everyone was frozen. Stanford’s face was a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

  ‘I wish I’d never asked,’ said Ramouter.

  Chapter 33

  Henley had been lying in bed staring at the dead spider in the corner of the ceiling for almost an hour while the sounds of London stirred outside. The clock read 7.42 a.m. Rob’s side of the bed was empty. He was pissed at her for arriving late to the party. He had gone out again, ten minutes after they’d arrived home. Henley had spent the rest of the evening with a bottle of red wine while Emma slept. Through the open window she heard a helicopter, a gate being slammed, and a car engine starting. A million thoughts had been running through her head. The box of sleeping pills sat unopened on her nightstand. She hadn’t seen the point of taking any once she had heard the birds singing at 4 a.m.

  Henley sighed and finally got out of bed. As she checked on Emma, who was still asleep, her mind wandered to the victims’ families, their grief. The only common denominator was that they had all been murdered and that their bodies had been dumped locally. Local to Henley.

  She turned on the kettle and then went to the fridge. Maybe it was time that she did something nice for once. Acted more like a wife. She had tried on Friday night and she knew that she should carry on trying. She wasn’t entirely convinced that making Rob a full English breakfast would put their relationship back on the road to redemption, but it was a start.

  ‘Witnesses at the scene have said that the body found in the churchyard of St Nicholas in Deptford had been dismembered. The identity of the man has not been disclosed but it is believed that the murder may have links to the murder of Uzomamaka Darego, a 26-year-old nurse from Stratford whose body…’

  ‘What the actual—’ Henley exclaimed, turning up the volume on the radio. She listened to the newsreader who continued to give information that hadn’t been released to the press. The last time that anyone from the SCU had spoken to the press was when Pellacia released a statement confirming the identity of Daniel Kennedy.

  There was a loud knock on the door and Henley jumped, spilling hot tea onto her bare legs. It was almost eight and Emma had shuffled down the stairs.

  ‘Morning, sweetie.’ Henley picked up her daughter. ‘Ooh, you’re getting heavy.’

  She peered through the front door’s frosted-glass panel, but couldn’t see anyone. She brought Emma into the front room, placed her on the sofa and turned on the television. Someone had definitely knocked. Henley went back and opened the door. No one was there, but she spotted a cardboard box on the doorstep, her name written neatly on the top in black ink. No address labels.

  Henley walked up the gravel path and placed her hands on the black iron gate. No cars. No people. Not even a stray cat or a wayward squirrel.

  ‘Luna, come here.’ Luna was sniffing the box and Henley dragged her back inside. She knelt down and lifted the box’s flaps, pushing aside shredded newspaper.

  Her body froze as her fingers became entangled in matted hair. Her fingers were stained with blood. She raced up the stairs and grabbed her mobile phone which was charging in the bedroom. She left two sticky red thumbprints on the screen as she called Pellacia. She rushed back down the stairs, where Emma was still watching TV, completely unaware.

  ‘Come on. Pick up,’ said Henley. The phone went to voicemail. Henley pressed call for the second time, not waiting to leave a message.

  She heard the screeching sound of the rusty gate being pushed open.

  ‘Don’t move,’ Henley shouted to Rob. His hair was damp with sweat. He had taken off his running vest and tied it around his waist.

  ‘What?’ Rob shouted as he removed his wireless headphones and placed them around his neck.

  ‘Don’t move. Just stay there.’

  ‘What do you mean, don’t move?’ Rob began to walk up the gravel path. ‘What’s going on with you?’

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ Henley said as her phone began to vibrate. She pressed accept smearing blood across the screen. She didn’t take her eyes off Rob.

  ‘What’s this?’ Rob said. He stopped at the box and bent down.

  ‘Don’t touch it!’ Henley shouted, taking an urgent step towards him.

  ‘Anj,’ said Pellacia on the other end of the phone. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Stephen, I need you to—’ The sound of Emma shouting for her mummy distracted Henley and she turned her back for just a second, but it was enough time for Rob to pick up the box. There was a loud scream and a heavy thud. Gravel scattered across the drive as he staggered back, tripped and fell.

  ‘Anjelica,’ Pellacia said.

  ‘I need you to dispatch a unit and Forensics to my house.’

  ‘What the hell for?’

  Henley instinctively reached out her hand to grab Emma, who had appeared at her feet. Emma took a step towards her, stopped and began to cry. Henley looked down and saw her blood-stained hand. ‘It’s OK, baby. Mummy’s OK,’ said Henley. She kneeled and carefully put her arm around Emma, making sure that she didn’t stain her daughter.

  ‘Are you still there?’ said Pellacia.

  ‘Now, Stephen. Send a unit now.’

  Chapter 34

  Anthony, who had driven at speed from Shepherd’s Bush, crouched inside the small forensic tent pitched on Henley’s lawn. From a distance, it looked like a gazebo for a garden party. Stanford had also arrived and Linh was on her way.

  Stanford had taken charge of Emma and was currently sitting in the back garden trying to distract her and Luna from the onlookers by the gate.

  ‘Tell me again what happened,’ said Pellacia. He was sitting on a chair opposite Henley while Rob stood by the kitchen sink, his arms folded across his chest, not moving. Just watching.

  Henley shifted her chair back, away from Pellacia, closer to her husband.

  ‘I was in here,’ she said. ‘Listening to the radio. Drinking my tea. I was about to make breakfast as I knew that Rob would be back from his run.’ She looked across to him. His face hadn’t changed, no acknowledgement that she had been thinking about him. ‘The news came on, so it must have been coming up to eight. Then someone knocked. It was loud enough to make me jump. I got up and met Emma at the bottom of the stairs. I looked through the window, but I couldn’t see anybody. I put Emma in the living room, turned on the TV and then opened the door.’

  Henley felt flushed. She pulled off the headscarf that was still wrapped round her head.

  ‘I shouldn’t have opened it. I knew that something wasn’t right. There was no address. Just my name. It didn’t feel right.’

  ‘And you didn’t see anyone?’

  ‘She’s told you twice that she didn’t see anyone,’ said Rob from his position by the sink.

  ‘What about you?’ Pellacia challenged. ‘You were the first one out of the house this morning. Did you notice anything suspicious?’

  ‘Are you saying that this is my fault?’ Rob said aggressively.

  ‘That’s not what I’m saying,’ Pellacia replied through gritted teeth. ‘I left at half seven. I would have noticed if someone was hovering outside my house.’

  ‘What about cars, mopeds?’

  ‘Flying saucers?’

  ‘Rob, stop it,’ said Henley. She went to him. ‘Stop being a dick,’ she whispered as she reached behind him, picked up a glass from the draining board and turned on the tap.

  ‘There was nothing unusual,’ Rob huffed. ‘I saw Mr Flores from number 8
walking his dog when I left.’

  Pellacia scribbled the information in his notebook.

  ‘And number 5’s son.’

  ‘Liam?’ asked Henley, sitting back down.

  ‘No, the younger one. Terrell. That’s it. He was leaving to go to football. I ran past him as he came out of his house, but that was on my way back.’

  Pellacia nodded. Henley noticed that he didn’t thank him.

  ‘We’re going to have to take your prints,’ Pellacia said.

  ‘What the hell for?’ Rob stepped towards Pellacia, who stood up. There wasn’t enough time for Henley to act as a physical buffer between them. Rob was taller and broader than Pellacia, but he didn’t tower over him.

  ‘You handled evidence,’ said Pellacia with a barely susceptible smirk. ‘We need your prints in order to eliminate them from our enquiries.’

  ‘That’s fine. I’ll ask Anthony to do it.’ Henley placed a hand on Rob’s arm.

  Rob angrily pushed Henley’s hand away. ‘Is there anything else?’ But he didn’t wait for an answer, brushing past Pellacia he stalked out of the kitchen.

  ‘You didn’t have to do that,’ said Henley as Rob turned the corner and disappeared up the stairs. ‘You’re both as bad as each other.’

  ‘Your husband’s an idiot,’ Pellacia replied. ‘You told him not to touch it and what does he go and do?’

  ‘That’s not the point. If that was any other witness you wouldn’t have spoken to them like that,’ said Henley.

  ‘Well, he’s not just any witness. He’s… Sorry, I’m sorry.’ Pellacia pulled Henley towards him. She breathed him in, feeling safe for a moment.

  Someone coughed loudly. Twice. They both pulled away as Stanford appeared at the doorway, carrying Emma.

  ‘Madam here has just pointed out that she hasn’t had breakfast,’ said Stanford, giving Pellacia a look of warning. At this moment, the rules of seniority didn’t apply.

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Henley. The eggs, sausages and bacon still sat where she’d left them on the worktop.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Stanford. ‘I’ll get her dressed and take her to McDonald’s. She can have some pancakes with her uncle Paul. Would you like that, princess?’

  ‘Yes,’ Emma said. Henley felt a tugging at her heart as Paul blew a raspberry at Emma and she began to laugh.

  ‘Thank you,’ Henley said softly.

  ‘She’s grown a lot,’ Pellacia said, watching Stanford walk away with Emma.

  ‘Don’t,’ Henley said. She picked up the food from the counter and went to the fridge. ‘Don’t talk about her.’

  The muscle in his jaw tensed again. ‘Did you recognise who it was?’ asked Pellacia.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The head in the box?’

  ‘No, no. I didn’t even look. I just felt the… No, I didn’t look. I don’t have a clue who it is, or why it’s on my doorstep and, before you ask, I’m not going out there to take a fucking look!’

  Pellacia put his hands on his hips and sighed heavily as Henley stood at the doorway.

  ‘I’m going to arrange for a couple of the officers outside to start making door-to-door enquiries. Talk to that Mr Flores and what was his name? Terry?’

  ‘Terrell. He’s a good kid and he’s only twelve, so don’t frighten him. And forget about CCTV. There’s nothing on this road.’

  ‘That box was hand-delivered. Someone must have seen something.’

  ‘Hmm,’ was all Henley said.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Of course I’m not OK. The sooner these lot are done—’

  ‘Thanks very much,’ said Anthony as he walked into the kitchen.

  ‘I’m sorry. Are you nearly done?’ asked Henley.

  ‘Yeah. Should be another half hour or so then we’ll be out of your hair.’ Anthony peeled off his purple latex gloves. ‘Shit, wrong choice of words.’

  ‘Can you tell us anything about it?’

  ‘Definitely human. Definitely male. Definitely dead.’

  ‘Anthony!’

  ‘Sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you. We’ve recovered prints from the box and the tape. Cross fingers, those prints don’t just belong to you and Rob. The most interesting thing about the head is…’ Anthony paused, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was going to say next. ‘It’s defrosting.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Linh can’t guess how long he’s been dead for because someone’s been keeping his head in the freezer.’

  Chapter 35

  Henley couldn’t stop the shaking. She stood at the sink, splashed her face with cold water and brushed her teeth. The house felt different, it felt cursed. She had to sit down and make a plan, but she wasn’t sure where to start or what she was planning for.

  ‘Where’s Emma’s toy zebra?’ Rob asked.

  ‘It should be on her bed. Why?’

  ‘I’m packing our stuff.’ He flung open the wardrobe and started pulling clothes off the hangers.

  ‘Hold on. You’re just going to leave without talking to me first?’

  ‘Have you finally lost it, Anj?’ Rob shouted.

  ‘Lower your voice. You’re going to wake Emma up.’

  ‘Right now, I don’t give a shit. Some lunatic dumped a head at our front door. A head, Anjelica. I asked you to give up this crazy job—’

  ‘You haven’t asked. You’ve demanded.’

  ‘With good bloody reason. I’m not staying, and our daughter isn’t staying here either. It’s up to you if you want to come or not.’

  ‘Not like this. Not without discussing it first.’

  ‘You didn’t discuss it with me when you went back to him.’

  ‘I went back to the job, not to a fucking man,’ Henley shouted back with fury, forgetting her own warning about waking up Emma. She sat on the bed, overcome by a throbbing pain in her temple.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she finally asked.

  ‘I haven’t decided yet. Maybe to my brother’s or my parents’, but this is the last straw, Anjelica. I tried. I really did try to see this from your point of view, but it’s gone too far now. You need to make your mind up.’

  ‘You’re giving me an ultimatum?’

  ‘Call it what you like, but you need to decide what’s more important; your career or your family.’

  ‘I married a Neanderthal. You knew what you were signing up for when you married me.’

  ‘You’ve got a week.’

  ‘How gracious of you.’

  ‘You’re lucky that I’m giving you that. Be clear about one thing. Emma and I are not staying here tonight. Who knows what will turn up on the doorstep tomorrow morning?’

  Chapter 36

  ‘Are you ready for this, Henley?’

  ‘Stop acting as though you’re announcing the finalists for The Voice,’ she replied. Henley was standing by Anthony’s desk at Southwark police station, flanked by Ramouter. The building hummed with activity. She was tired and hungover, and she felt guilty for not going with Rob and Emma – as a family.

  ‘So, as we know, your guy’s head has been stuck in a deep freeze somewhere, but by the time it was delivered to you it had obviously been out defrosting somewhere, which accounts for the blood. It wasn’t easy, but we managed to prise the jaw open in order to take a dental impression. So, we’ve got blood and hair samples. I wasn’t holding out much hope, but we got a match on Mr Iceland.’

  ‘Who is he, Anthony?’ asked Henley.

  ‘I don’t know exactly but that isn’t the most interesting part in this puzzle. Cast your mind back, Henley, to just over two and a half years ago.’

  Henley rolled her eyes while Ramouter shuffled uncomfortably next to her.

  ‘We were never able to identify Olivier’s last victim,’ continued Anthony. ‘No DNA, no prints, no head—’

  ‘Tell me you’re joking.’ Henley was astounded.

  ‘No joke. Olivier’s last victim was an Asian male, twenty to thirty-five years of age, but his
head was never found – until now.’

  ‘Once he realised that we were on to him, he started playing games,’ Henley explained to Ramouter. ‘He refused to give us any information about the seventh victim. We didn’t know if victim seven was in the army with Olivier or if it was just an unlucky stranger. The only reason we were able to charge Olivier with his murder was because he got sloppy. His hair and carpet fibres from his flat were found on the body. In addition to the symbols that were carved into his back.’

  ‘And that’s his head?’ Ramouter asked. Over the past few days he’d familiarised himself with the old case files. ‘Victim number seven?’

  ‘Ninety-nine per cent sure,’ said Anthony. ‘Granted, all I’ve got is a DNA match on the database, but unless some idiot labelled the exhibits wrong it’s pretty much conclusive. If you want to be a hundred per cent sure the samples will have to be extracted from the body.’

  ‘That’s if they even buried the body,’ said Henley. ‘It could have been cremated, for all we know. They’re not going to keep a body in the freezer in case it happens to get identified one day.’

  ‘Actually, they did,’ said Anthony. ‘The body is at Finchley mortuary. You got lucky. This one managed to escape the NCA’s push to cremate unidentified bodies in mortuaries across the country. I’ve called in a favour and I’ve got a colleague taking samples as we speak. As soon as we get authority, everything is going to Linh.’

  ‘You’re a star, do you know that?’ Henley said.

  ‘You tease,’ Anthony said with a grin. Then his expression grew serious. ‘But you know what, in twenty-five years of doing this job, I’ve never seen anything like this. You’ve got to admit, Henley, I’m not one for bad language, but this is pretty fucked up.’

  ‘Someone has been keeping this man’s head in a freezer?’ Pellacia chuckled.

  ‘This isn’t funny,’ said Henley.