by Sophie Green
A long pause followed.
‘Look,’ Abe persevered, ‘it’s snowing cats and dogs out here – will you let us in?’ The buzzer sounded and the lock released.
They walked down the stairs to a cold basement area. The morgue technician, whose name badge said ‘Edmund Cloake’ met them at the bottom. He had the complexion of uncooked pastry and a large, pointed Adam’s apple. His dark hair was parted in the middle and hung down to his shoulders. He wore fingerless gloves and a tatty grey-and-red striped scarf over his lab coat.
He narrowed his eyes when he saw Lil. ‘Who’s the kid?’
‘I’m his partner,’ Lil replied.
‘Sidekick,’ Abe corrected.
‘Associate,’ Lil conceded
Cloake frowned. ‘I heard you had a dog now?’
‘I’m his other associate,’ said Lil through gritted teeth.
Cloake led them into a long concrete corridor punctuated with dingy lights that hummed overhead. The air smelt cold and sterile with a sweet undercurrent of death that clung to the back of their throats. Closed doors with small metal plaques informed them that they were passing the laboratory, the autopsy room, the instrument sterilisation room and the cold storage until finally they reached the chief pathologist’s office.
Monbatsu was waiting for them. ‘Ah, Mandrel! Nice of you to drop by unexpectedly.’ He nodded Cloake away. ‘That will be all, thank you.’
Cloake narrowed his eyes again. ‘He said he was here to see a stiff.’
‘Ha!’ Monbastu smiled wryly. ‘I think he was talking about me. Now, there is still some testing to be done on 367, Cloake. Don’t let us detain you any longer.’
Cloake hesitated, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down a couple of times, then he left them to it.
Before anyone could speak Monbatsu had closed the door and then moved quickly towards a transistor radio that sat on top of a filing cabinet and switched it on. Piano music of the classical type filled the room.
‘So if you’re looking for the unusual, Mandrel, I have an embarrassment of riches.’
Lil took her notebook out of her back pocket and flicked it open at the next blank page. She pulled out a pencil, twirled it once and it spun off and rolled under one of Monbatsu’s cabinets. She sighed inwardly. ‘I’m just going to borrow this.’ She reached across and took a pen off the desk.
Monbatsu raised an eyebrow. ‘Our conversation will be off the record, I hope.’
‘Naturally.’ Lil smiled wolfishly at him, mentally punching the air at being party to an actual off-the-record conversation.
‘Very well. I do have a particular matter I would like to draw your attention to but first –’ he typed a number into the keypad on the cabinet, opened a drawer and pulled out two pink cardboard files – ‘take a look at this.’ He passed the first one to Abe. ‘I finished the Minos autopsy yesterday afternoon. Most interesting.’
Abe opened the file, took a look and blanched, slamming it shut and thwarting Lil’s attempt to see it for herself.
‘He’s been crushed to a pulp,’ said Monbatsu. ‘Every bone. It’s the sort of fracture you see when a body gets caught up in heavy machinery, and yet I do not believe this was the work of a machine.’
‘You think a person did it?’ There was a lull in the music and in it another sound, like someone’s weight shifting against a door.
Monbatsu looked up sharply. He got to his feet and started walking very softly towards the door. ‘Hmmm, yes, I think so.’
He opened the door suddenly and Cloake fell through it.
‘Ha! There you are. Very conveniently. Cloake, my coffee machine is out of order. Here.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out three banknotes. ‘Fetch us some from the cafe round the corner, please.’
Monbatsu watched Cloake put on his coat and hat and then disappear up the corridor, before continuing, ‘Where was I? Ah yes, Minos. His bones weren’t snapped quickly, like a breadstick. They were squeezed.’
‘So,’ said Abe, loosening his collar, ‘the perp would have to have been strong to kill someone in this way?’
‘Extremely,’ Monbatsu agreed. ‘The last time I saw injuries like this was back in Morris Hoxon’s day.’ He turned to Lil. ‘Hoxon, known as the Minotaur due to his disproportionately large head and shoulders. He was, as they say, a “heavy”, a hired hand. He used to rough people up, put “the frighteners” on them.’ Monbatsu spoke without emotion. ‘The shoulders of an ox, arms like boa constrictors; he was most certainly capable of crushing a man to death.’
‘I’ve heard of him,’ said Abe. ‘He’s been locked up in the Needle for the last thirty years.’
Monbatsu shook his head grimly.
‘They released him?’
Monbatsu shook his head again.
‘You think he’s been sprung?’ Lil looked up from her note-taking long enough to widen her eyes and then she narrowed them again. ‘Wouldn’t he be a bit old for these kind of moves now?’
‘Hoxon Morris died a couple of weeks ago. Whatever this epidemic is, it killed him.’
‘Hmmmm.’ Abe stroked his chin thoughtfully then, finding a large patch he had missed while he was shaving, stopped drawing attention to it. ‘What’s in the other file?’
‘This came in early this morning. There are similarities. Let me show you.’
Abe waved the offer away like it was a bowl of cold sick. ‘That’s OK.’
Monbatsu smiled and opened the file to him anyway. ‘Look at the picture.’ He held it out to Abe but Lil was faster; she took in a long look, saw what appeared to be an unwrapped mummy with parched and wrinkled skin, and grimaced.
Abe peered at it from the corner of his eye and then looked closer. ‘Where did they find that, a museum?’
Monbatsu looked at the picture himself and then held it up. ‘How old would you say this woman was?’
Lil gave what she hoped was an appraising look before guessing. ‘Fifty?’
Abe snorted. ‘More like a hundred.’
Monbatsu frowned. ‘She’s actually in her thirties.’
‘Who was she?’ asked Lil.
‘Sal Xu Ping, proprietor of five of the seven casinos in the Golden Loop. She was poisoned.’
Abe grimaced at the image. ‘What kind of poison would do that to a person?’
‘A very specific one, very complex – the toxicology report was two pages long. And here, once again, you benefit from my considerable years of experience, for I have known of this particular complex of drugs before. Many years ago this exact concoction was the calling card of Peligan City’s most notorious poisoner, Blackheath Carrick.’
‘I don’t know the guy,’ said Abe.
‘No. It would have been before your time, detective. I was a medical student back then and I remember studying the case.’
‘So did the fuzz pick him up?’
‘After a time. He’s been incarcerated ever since.’
‘Until …?’ Lil paused, her pen hovering over the notebook.
Monbatsu shrugged. ‘Until forever. As far as I know he’s still in the Needle. So you see, Mandrel, you have two bodies, both murdered in ways known to be the modus operandi of criminals of a bygone age, one of whom is a very old man now and one of whom is deceased.
‘And that’s not all, I’ve gone back over the files for the last few months and there were five other mysterious deaths recorded as either misadventure or natural causes. All high-profile people, all with unsavoury connections.’
‘Are we looking at a copycat?’
‘You’re the detective.’
‘What would be the motive?’
‘For replicating the M.O. of these notorious criminals? Not a clue. Fame perhaps? A little notoriety by association? Ask a behavioural scientist. But the motivation behind his choice of victims?’ Monbatsu took up a perch on the corner of his desk and eyed them levelly. ‘If I was a gambling man, which I am, I would bet on a coup in the making – someone is moving into position to take control o
f Peligan by knocking out all the big players.
‘And another thing, remember the Firebug Killer? He came after you once, Mandrel, didn’t he?’
Here comes the connection. Lil knew it. She waited, not even breathing; her gaze snuck its way over to Abe. He gave Monbatsu a stiff-shouldered shrug as he said, ‘What of it?’
‘I couldn’t help drawing a comparison. You see, just like Minos, Ping and the others, there was never any investigation into his crimes, because there were never any clues, just the bodies. No witnesses, no fingerprints. Nothing. The Firebug did the police a favour when he stopped; they never would have caught him – he was too clever.’ Monbatsu looked out of his window at the brick wall just beyond, as though he was trying to read something in the pattern of the mortar. ‘There’s something about his crimes and these that worries me.’ Then he snapped out of it in a hurry. ‘Which brings me to the real reason I asked you here today.’
There was more? Lil’s pen was poised at the ready.
Monbatsu continued, ‘These cases I’ve shown you are just the headline grabbers.’
‘Which have so far failed to grab any headlines,’ said Lil.
‘Indeed.’ Monbatsu paused. He checked the door again and lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I have in my possession a set of reports, which I am calling the Fright File. It proves that we are in the midst of something truly terrifying. The death rate in Peligan City has octupled over the last month.’
Lil gasped. ‘Murder?’
‘Officially they are being recorded as death by exposure. All of the victims bar one had been living on the streets. Of course, the death rate is always high this time of year, especially now, since City Hall closed most of the shelters – it’s the cold. But these people didn’t die of exposure.’
‘How do you know?’
He tapped the plastic badge on his lapel. ‘Because I am a forensic pathologist. Exposure is a long, slow death; this was fast – seconds, I would say. I don’t know why the cause of their deaths are being misdiagnosed but it’s very strange, because all the victims had the same three superficial things in common. They all died relatively instantly, they all bore expressions resembling a rictus, and their hair had all turned to white at the time of death.
‘I have now had a chance to examine one of these misdiagnosed bodies closely and my findings indicate that the victim died of sudden heart failure,’ Monbatsu explained, his eyes never leaving Abe’s. ‘Now, I don’t like to make guesses, but if I was to make a guess, and when I say guess, I mean an informed medical judgement based on forty years as an expert in the field … I’d say she was scared to death.’
Lil and Abe exchanged foreboding glances, and Abe asked, ‘Why haven’t we heard anything about this until now?’
‘That’s the question I’ve been asking myself.’
Lil’s eyes widened. ‘Hushed up?’ She folded her arms cynically. ‘But you haven’t told anyone either.’
‘Oh, but I have,’ Monbatsu replied, offended. ‘I went right to the top.’
‘Acting Mayor Gordian?’ Abe guessed. ‘What did she say?’
Monbatsu shook his head and shrugged. ‘I’m still waiting for someone to come and start investigating. So far no one has.’
Lil took an involuntary step back and trod on Abe’s foot. ‘Sorry! So, have you I.D.d any of the bodies?’
‘Some of them.’
‘So –’ she raised her Cryptic Eyebrow – ‘who was the one?’
‘I’m sorry?’
Lil read back through her notes. ‘You said “all bar one had been living on the streets”. Who is the exception?’
‘Minos’s driver,’ replied Monbatsu, giving Lil an admiring nod. ‘Until yesterday morning, the copycat murders and these cases in the Fright File appeared completely unconnected.’
Abe tried to muscle in on the brain action with a quick recap. ‘So, Minos is killed in a method known to be that of a deceased criminal and the only potential witness appears to have died of fright at the scene?’
‘That’s about the size of it,’ Monbatsu concluded.
‘And,’ Abe continued, ‘as the cause of death appears to be the same as several others, you think maybe they saw something too. Something that frightened them so much it killed them?’
Lil flashed her eyes at him. A ghost. One that was capable of killing by fear alone. This was it. The lead they had been waiting for. Gallows had been terrorising Peligan City for a while but for some reason it had been hushed up, and who knows how many people had died in the meantime. A sudden, horrible thought crept into Lil’s mind.
‘The woman you examined. Do you know who she was?’
‘I call her 362.’ Monbatsu shrugged. ‘She was a rough sleeper. I thought she looked familiar. Maybe I’d seen her before somewhere but I couldn’t make an I.D.’
‘There’s someone I’m looking for. A woman. She has been missing for days now. Can you check in the file? See if she’s there?’
Monbastu returned to the filing cabinet and began flicking through the folders within. The file wasn’t in the cabinet. He searched the papers on his benches, and patted down the pockets of the duffle coat that was hanging on a hook on the wall. ‘I know I had it last night.’ He hefted his brown-leather doctor’s bag onto the table and frantically rummaged through. ‘It’s not here. Someone has stolen it!’
Abe flexed his steely jaw. ‘Was that your only proof?’
Monbatsu sighed. ‘I still have the victim I examined. 362. She’s in the cold storage now.’
Lil couldn’t bear the not knowing. She couldn’t wait any longer. Without a word she darted from the office, down the murky corridor to the room labelled ‘Cold Storage’ and shoved the door open. She could hear Abe calling her name, hurrying after her, but she ignored him. Racing to the wall of metal cabinets she scanned through until she found it, number 362, and with all her might she pulled the drawer open and looked down before she could stop herself.
She would never be able to forget what she saw there: lips that were stretched and blue, pulled back over brown teeth. Eyes open wide, the yellowish tinge standing out against powdery skin. The fingers were raised and bent like claws clutching at the air, and hair that streamed back from a thin face, as fuzzy and white as snow.
It was Delilah. Lil had found her at last.
Chapter 11
The Peligan City Paranormal Society
The lunch-hour crowd was just finishing up and drifting away by the time Lil, Abe and Margaret arrived at the Nite Jar Cafe. As atmospheres went it was as far from the morgue as you could get; the juke box was belting out ragtime jazz and the air was warm and smelt of ground coffee and sweet pastries.
They took a corner booth at the far end, and peeled off their frosted macs. Abe dumped his on the chair beside him and Lil hung hers over the back of the seat. Velma came over with her notebook to get their order.
Abe squinted at the baked goods in the glass display domes along the counter. ‘Can I get a sausage roll, two apple Danish –’ He gave Lil a querying look and saw her shake her head in reply. ‘One apple Danish,’ he revised the order, ‘and a cup of java, please.’
‘Sure.’ Velma worked her jaws around the gum she was chewing. ‘What will it be for you, Lil?’
‘Just a glass of water, please.’
Velma held her fingers, tipped with frosted pink varnish, softly against Lil’s brow. ‘Are you OK, honey? You’re as white as a sheet.’
Lil nodded and gulped.
‘She’s had a shock,’ Abe explained.
Velma gave him a look. ‘What kind of shock?’
Abe raised his shoulders, preparing to explain but then realising mid-gesture that the truth would sound worse than anything Velma could imagine, then let them drop with a defeated sigh. ‘A pretty bad one, but she’ll be OK.’
Velma returned a moment later with their order.
As soon as they were alone again Lil let her head drop into her hands. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’
Abe crinkled his eyes at her. ‘Don’t be hard on yourself. No kid should see something like that, no matter how tough they are.’ He began dismantling the sausage roll and alternately eating bits and dropping bits onto the floor for Margaret. ‘I’ve known plenty of hard nuts crack up when they see their first dead body.’ He gave Lil a concerned look. ‘You knew her?’
Lil nodded. She couldn’t seem to talk.
Abe continued, ‘I knew her a bit myself, back in the day; she used to be a singer in the Two Deuces. Fell on hard times, harder than most.’ Lil nodded again. ‘There was an article about her in the Klaxon recently.’
‘I know,’ Lil began and then faltered. ‘I – I read it.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes while Abe chewed on the sausage roll and Lil stared out of the window. Then he pushed his empty plate away and knocked back the last of the roll with a glug of coffee. ‘So, Monbatsu’s copycat theory – what did you make of all that?’
Lil chewed her lip thoughtfully. ‘You know that second prisoner he mentioned, the poisoner, Carrick? I’m pretty sure he’s dead too. A couple of days ago. Another victim of the epidemic at the Needle.’
‘Well, he must have been in his nineties so I’m not surprised he got sick.’
‘That’s two dead criminals with very specific M.O.s followed by two crimes with their exact hallmark. I don’t think it is a copycat.’ Lil leant across the table. ‘I think those criminals have been sprung. Sprung into the afterlife, and if I’m right and it’s their ghosts we’re dealing with, then I’ll bet Gallows is behind it.’
Abe looked at Lil and she stared right back. ‘Maybe,’ he said.
‘When Nedly gets back from tailing Starkey we’re going to head over to the library and do some digging. Find out who exactly has died and when.’
‘Are you sure you feel up to it?’
Lil swallowed hard and nodded. ‘What are you going to do?’
Abe found a crumb on the table and stared at it. ‘Well, I’ve got to meet Naomi in an hour, so …’