The Disciple didb-2

by Steven Dunne

  ‘It’s not possible, Chief Superintendent,’ explained Hudson, taking up the reins. ‘The surviving boy must have been seated throughout the attack. That’s why the back of his seat is clear of bloodstains. It would have been covered in the arterial spray of the boy next to him if he’d been moving around, cutting throats.’

  ‘I see,’ nodded Charlton. ‘Then why was he here? And why did he survive? Again.’

  ‘Those, sir, are two very good questions,’ agreed Brook.

  Grant continued to stare at Brook, an odd grin deforming her features. ‘Maybe he’s some kind of mascot,’ she offered, making little effort to remove her gaze from Brook.

  Charlton turned to her with a painful expression on his face. ‘Is that meant to be funny?’

  ‘No, sir,’ she replied. ‘Far from it.’

  ‘Someone trying to scare him, you mean?’ put in Noble.

  ‘Or impress him. Look at what I can do to your friends, any time I like.’ She shrugged. ‘Just a thought, but we have a living witness and it seems unlikely to be an oversight,’ she added.

  Brook was the only one to notice her use of the word ‘we’.

  ‘Chief Inspector, is there anything you’d be doing that DI Brook’s not doing?’ asked Charlton. Noble took an audible breath and looked at Brook but he was staring at DS Grant and didn’t seem to be paying much attention.

  ‘Presumably you’re hunting up any possible CCTV around the area?’ Hudson inquired of Brook. ‘And Traffic film should be examined in case our doer isn’t local. Vans are good. Harder to see into.’

  ‘Both in hand,’ answered Noble for him.

  ‘Have you got ANPR cameras here yet?’ asked Hudson.

  ‘Not yet,’ said the Chief Super. ‘Maybe next year…’

  ‘Pity. But you can still check with the motorway boys who will have them,’ interrupted Hudson. ‘Not only can they automatically recognise number plates, but any potential criminal’s car will have a marker on them.’

  ‘Marker?’ asked Noble.

  ‘If an ANPR camera sees a stolen car that’s in the system, the computer will throw out an alert within seconds. They’re state of the art, Sergeant,’ observed Charlton, happier now to be on home ground.

  ‘He’s probably long gone by now,’ threw in Grant. ‘Or he could be in our midst,’ she added, continuing to burn her eyes into Brook.

  ‘The helicopter cameras couldn’t find anyone,’ said Noble, missing the insinuation.

  ‘And I don’t have to ask if your search will include bins, grates and unlocked sheds, do I, Damen?’ asked Hudson.

  ‘Looking for what?’ asked Charlton. ‘We’ve got the weapon.’

  ‘Well, we’re assuming he has transport, but if he doesn’t he’s going to need a change of clothes if he wants to get far without being noticed,’ replied Hudson. ‘Which might mean dumping what he has on.’

  ‘Excellent!’ nodded Charlton. ‘Excellent thought.’

  ‘We’re all over that, sir,’ countered Noble. ‘Standard procedure.’

  ‘One other thing, Inspector Brook — why have you put a man on that house over there?’ asked Grant, pointing at the officer examining his nails in front of the dilapidated Wallis house.

  ‘That’s where Jason Wallis’s family were butchered two years ago, Sergeant,’ said Noble.

  ‘I’m surprised Wallis could come within half a mile of the place,’ she observed. ‘That doesn’t answer my question though.’

  Brook smiled suddenly and Grant was taken aback momentarily. ‘She’s very good, Joshua,’ he said to Hudson. ‘Glad to see you’re not being allowed to soft pedal before you retire.’

  ‘She keeps me on my toes,’ answered Hudson.

  Brook smiled again. ‘I see she does.’ She knew. She’d spoken to Duffy and Parker, assuming they were first on the scene. But they weren’t. And a detective of Grant’s ability wouldn’t accept the lie about Brook picking up the call on his radio as easily as Duffy and Parker had. And the fact that Brook didn’t have an in-car radio would soon nail that lie. ‘It’s part of our crime scene, Laura. The Reaper — sorry, the killer — was there last night before he came here.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ she said back at him.

  ‘Because so was I.’

  A half hour later Charlton, Brook, Noble, Hudson and Grant had gathered in a small conference room back at St Mary’s Wharf for a meeting to get everyone singing from the same hymn sheet before the initial inquiry briefing at four p.m. and the media briefing after that.

  Charlton ordered coffees before kicking off. ‘This is very difficult for me, having no background in CID, but I’m determined to get a positive result, and we must start out with that in mind. I’m very aware that nearly two years ago my predecessor lost her job on account of mistakes made on the Wallis Inquiry, mistakes that she didn’t necessarily make herself, but for which she had to bear responsibility.’

  Brook was impressed that Charlton didn’t look over at him at that point.

  ‘We have to get the direction of this investigation right, from the start,’ Charlton continued. ‘I fully intend to be involved in all aspects of decision making and personnel, like it or not. Now, some might think that’s just me covering my back, and they wouldn’t be totally wrong, but my aim is to structure this inquiry for maximum efficiency. Comments, anyone?

  ‘No? Okay. The first thing we need to decide is who directs the investigation.’ Charlton looked around to see if either Brook or Noble were prepared to take offence, but as neither seemed to be reacting, he pressed on. ‘I know, Damen, that you’re nominally the Senior Investigating Officer on this inquiry but I don’t think I need to tell you what problems that throws up. Firstly, the publicity surrounding this journalist’s book…’

  ‘Sir. May I say something?’ asked Noble.

  ‘John!’ warned Brook. ‘You don’t know the full…’

  ‘No, I think it needs to be said, sir.’ Chief Superintendent Charlton invited Noble’s contribution with a wave of his hand. ‘I was on the Wallis Inquiry with both DI Brook and DI Greatorix and I’ve read Brian Burton’s book. As far as I’m concerned there was nothing more that DI Brook could’ve done to hunt down The Reaper. Most of Brian Burton’s book is complete nonsense. It’s full of unsubstantiated rumours and half-truths that have been twisted to fit Burton’s own prejudices…’

  ‘The content’s irrelevant, John,’ put in Brook. ‘It still puts the inquiry and my involvement under more of a spotlight than normal. It muddies the waters in which we have to swim.’

  ‘Which puts the investigation at an immediate disadvantage,’ added Hudson.

  ‘What about the advantage of having an SIO who’s uniquely qualified to catch The Reaper, sir?’ said Noble.

  ‘Not helped so far, has it?’ observed Laura Grant with a humourless smile.

  ‘Take it easy, Laura,’ said Hudson. ‘We’re all friends here.’

  At that moment, Charlton’s secretary brought in the tray of coffees to shortcut potential bad feeling. After she’d left, Charlton removed a contemplative forefinger from in front of his mouth. ‘Sergeant, I won’t be basing any judgement I make on the contents of that book. But, as DI Brook has pointed out, its existence will impact on the amount of scrutiny we come under.’

  ‘We’re talking about The Reaper here, sir. How much more scrutiny can we attract?’ asked Noble.

  ‘A good point, Sergeant, but Burton’s book is not the only impediment here,’ added Charlton. He looked over at Hudson, who nodded and turned to Noble.

  ‘I don’t know if you’ve been brought up to speed by your DI, Sergeant, but let me do that now. The reason DS Grant and myself came to Derby is to question DI Brook about a murder that took place in Brighton ten days ago.’

  ‘While Inspector Brook was on leave,’ chipped in Grant.

  ‘The victim was the husband of DI Brook’s ex-wife. Tony Harvey-Ellis was his name. I’m not comfortable going into detail about why DI Brook and Mr Harvey-Ellis mi
ght be, shall we say, enemies — for want of a better word — but suffice to say that two years ago, at the height of the Wallis Inquiry, DI Brook turned up in Brighton and assaulted Mr Harvey-Ellis.’

  Noble turned to Brook. ‘Is that true?’ Brook looked squarely back at Noble and gave an imperceptible nod. ‘And now he’s dead and you’re a suspect?’

  ‘So it seems, John,’ conceded Brook.

  ‘A strong suspect,’ added Grant.

  ‘It’s purely circumstantial at this juncture,’ noted Charlton.

  ‘But added to last night’s events…’ continued Grant.

  ‘Last night’s events?’ exclaimed Noble. ‘You can’t possibly think Inspector Brook…’

  ‘That’s enough, John,’ said Brook. ‘We’re all grown-ups here. I can see why I’m a suspect. As for last night, that’s an unfortunate circumstance…’

  ‘Unfortunate for the Inghams,’ noted Grant.

  ‘…an unfortunate circumstance which I can explain.’

  ‘We’re listening,’ smiled Grant.

  Brook paused to choose his words with care. ‘I was first on the scene but I arrived too late. I was in the Wallis house before I realised what was happening. I got to the Ingham house a few minutes before PC Duffy and PC Parker. I surveyed the situation and secured the scene. When Duffy and Parker arrived, we called for back-up.’

  ‘But you were there first, Inspector, and we’ve only your word for how long you were there.’

  ‘That’s true, Sergeant. But I have no motive to kill the victims. And it won’t be hard to prove that I didn’t make that emergency call, which puts someone else at the scene before me. Also, you were alert enough to check my clothing this morning when you arrived at the crime scene. I would have been covered in blood if I’d killed the Inghams.’

  ‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Damen,’ interjected DCI Hudson.

  ‘You were at the crime scene alone,’ insisted Grant. ‘You could have changed, dumped the evidence before the responding officers arrived.’

  ‘Let me know when you find the clothes.’

  ‘That’s just it. With you as SIO we never will.’

  ‘That’s enough, you two,’ soothed Charlton. ‘DCI Hudson’s right. We’re losing sight of the main objective.’

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ said Grant. ‘But if we’re going to entertain the notion that DI Brook should be involved in this inquiry, let alone run it, then I think we’ve a right to know what the hell he was doing at the Wallis house at that time of night.’

  Charlton thought for a moment then nodded, looked over at DCI Hudson, who shrugged his agreement, and turned to look at Brook.

  Brook put his hand inside his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. ‘I received this email yesterday.’ He unfolded it and slid it across the table towards the Chief Superintendent. Charlton read the brief document aloud, then passed the paper round the table for examination.

  Damen,

  I’ll be at the Wallis house at two o’clock tomorrow morning. It’s vital I see you. Come alone. I hope you remember how to get there?

  Victor

  ‘Who’s Victor?’ asked Hudson.

  ‘Victor Sorenson is … was a suspect in The Reaper inquiry in both London killings in the 1990s.’

  ‘Was?’

  ‘He died two years ago.’

  Charlton, Hudson and Grant watched Brook and Noble leave the office. As soon as the door closed, Charlton arranged to have Brook’s office computer taken away, to have the hard drive examined.

  ‘You don’t really believe this email guff, do you, guv?’ Grant said to Hudson. ‘It’s easily faked.’

  ‘Give me some credit, Laura. It’s about as convincing as the evidence that Brook’s The Reaper.’

  ‘What does that mean, Chief Inspector?’ asked Charlton.

  ‘This email is a pretty terrible alibi and Brook must know that,’ Hudson replied.

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, we’re looking for a killer who’s been active for nearly twenty years and Brook must know his methods better than anyone.’ Charlton was still confused. ‘In all those years, a viable Reaper suspect has never been identified. The Reaper’s killed two families in London, one in Leeds, two now in Derby. Five crime scenes. And what did Forensics find at the first four crime scenes?’

  ‘What?’ asked Charlton.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Grant. ‘No fingerprints, no DNA, no witnesses, no CCTV, no fibres. Nothing.’

  ‘Add to that the fact that The Reaper has no clear motive,’ added Hudson. ‘Even a copper as good as Brook can’t beat those odds.’

  ‘I see,’ said Charlton, clearly not seeing.

  ‘And now we’re supposed to believe that Damen Brook, the man who has hunted The Reaper for all these years, is actually The Reaper. If so, he wouldn’t be caught at the crime scene with only a poxy email as an alibi,’ said Hudson, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it before Charlton could object. ‘If someone as smart as Brook was The Reaper, he would’ve been better organised than that, believe me.’

  ‘Okay,’ nodded Charlton doubtfully.

  ‘And that’s not the only strange thing. Suddenly there’s more evidence at the Ingham house than we can shake a stick at. I spoke to one of the SOCOs. The killer used a mobile phone to alert the emergency services to the murders. Not only have we got a useable print on it, but we’re going to have the killer’s voice on tape.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’ said Charlton. ‘It’ll tell us about Brook one way or the other.’

  ‘Yes. But it also tells us that either The Reaper has got very sloppy or we’re dealing with a copycat, like Brook says. Whatever you think of him, Brook is a brilliant detective. Believe me, nothing we have will point to him for this — nothing.’

  Hudson took a large pull on his cigarette and exhaled towards the window, suddenly aware of Charlton’s aversion to the smoke.

  ‘What about this Sorenson that Brook talked about?’ asked Charlton.

  ‘You’re welcome to have a look, sir, but if there was no evidence to prove Sorenson was The Reaper when he was alive, it’ll be ten times harder if he is dead. And it almost certainly won’t help you with the Ingham investigation.’

  ‘Unless we can trace that email, guv.’

  ‘Don’t hold your breath, luv.’

  ‘And can you think why someone would want to copy The Reaper?’ asked Charlton.

  ‘Good question,’ said Hudson; Charlton tried to hide his pleasure. ‘His methods provide a workable blueprint for anybody wanting to be a serial killer,’ answered Hudson. ‘After all, he’s never been caught.’

  ‘But it doesn’t fit the profiles,’ added Grant.

  ‘Profiles?’ said Charlton.

  ‘Serial killers fall into two categories,’ explained Hudson.

  ‘By definition, the compulsive killer can’t stop himself,’ said Grant. ‘He repeats because he has a compulsion, one which eventually trips him up, because he has to kill even if it means taking risks.’

  ‘And there’s often a sexual angle, which generally leads to DNA,’ put in Hudson.

  ‘Then there’s The Reaper. A killer like that is more organised and gets his kicks from power, not sex. He enjoys the fear of the public and the inability of the police to find him. These killers use their crimes as a secret well of omnipotence, to dip into when their self-esteem needs it.’ Grant looked at her two superiors with a frown. ‘However…’

  ‘Problem?’ asked Charlton.

  ‘Vanity,’ said Hudson.

  ‘Right. This type of serial killer wouldn’t usually copy another killer’s MO. His ego needs to know he’s an original, a one-off. If caught, he can revel in that knowledge, show off his superiority.’

  ‘Then again, Laura, leaving a print is not evidence of great organisation.’

  ‘We still don’t know it’s the killer’s, guv.’

  ‘Well,’ said Charlton with an air of finality. ‘This is all very interesting but gets me no closer to so
lving my dilemma. Even if Brook scrubs up clean over last night, can I afford to keep him as SIO?’

  Hudson smiled at Charlton. ‘Can I make one further suggest ion, sir?’

  DI Brook and DS Noble hurried down the stairs two at a time and arrived at the entrance to the lab. The place seemed deserted so Noble rapped on a frosted glass door and entered. A portly, completely bald, middle-aged man chewing on a slice of pizza turned towards the door. He wore a white coat flecked with crumbs and sported an ID badge with a picture of a thin long-haired stranger, taken many years before, and the name ‘Donald Crump’.

  ‘Hello, John, Inspector Brook,’ Crump said, not looking at the senior officer. ‘What do you want? Haven’t you given us enough to do?’

  ‘Where’s Benny?’ asked Noble. ‘We need a quick scrape and tape. Clothes, fingernails, hair — the lot. Urgent.’

  ‘He’s next door sorting out the photos and sketches. Then he’s off to the mortuary to record the autopsies.’

  ‘You’ll have to do it then, Don,’ said Noble.

  ‘I’ve already got six sets of bloodstained clothing on their way over,’ Crump complained. Noble grinned and raised his eyebrows. ‘So it looks like I’ve got a bit of time to do a rush job,’ he added through gritted teeth. ‘I’ll get my gear. Where is it?’

  ‘Right here, Don.’

  Crump turned around to see Inspector Brook removing his clothes.

  It was afternoon by the time Brook got home. Noble had returned to the Drayfin Estate to coordinate activity around the murder scene so that the Chief Super could go into the press briefing fully informed. Meanwhile, the key pieces of evidence to emerge were being walked through by individual detectives. DS Morton was the exhibits officer and was following the bloodied mobile phone through its various examinations, the lifting of the fingerprints being the most important. DS Gadd was walking through the scalpel, also to be tested for prints and DNA, and DS Grant was collating the information on the 999 call.

  When he pulled up, Brook was relieved to see his new neighbour’s hire car was absent and he could pass unseen between his car and his front door. He was tired from his labours but Brook hadn’t come home to rest. Although unable to bring his skills to bear on the current case until formally cleared by Donald Crump’s various tests, his experience of The Reaper was a unique resource and Charlton was expecting him to deliver his opinions at the initial briefing.