‘I’m not sure,’ said Nightingale.
‘If it was him, he’s not a serious Satanist, I can tell you that for sure,’ she said.
‘I’m starting to think that perhaps it wasn’t his work,’ said Nightingale.
‘Somebody wanted to make it look as if he was a Satanist?’
‘I think so, yes. Somebody who didn’t realise the significance of the symbols and the blood.’
‘But why would anyone want to do that, Mr Nightingale? He killed those children, didn’t he?’
‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about that,’ he said.
‘So why was it so important to make him appear to be a devil-worshipper?’
‘That, Mrs Steadman, is a very good question,’ said Nightingale.
28
‘So the time fits and there was a van?’ said Superintendent Wilkinson. He’d been watching Sky News with the sound down as he’d listened to the inspector report on what he’d learned, which frankly wasn’t much. Mr and Mrs Harper were due to make a live appeal within the hour, not that there was anything new for them to say. Just tears and scared faces and the same words over and over again. Please let us have our daughter back, please don’t hurt her. Paedophiles didn’t pay attention to appeals, Wilkinson knew that, but it was important to keep the missing girl in the public’s thoughts.
‘There’s no sign of a van now, but there is a garage. Sir, we could try knocking at the door. We’re overalled up as gasmen, we could say we’re testing for leaks.’
‘You can’t go in without a warrant or probable cause, you know that.’
‘We could do a walk around the outside. Try to get a look-see through the windows.’
‘Okay, but no knocking on the door and under no circumstances are you to go inside. But if they come out, you can speak to them. And watch young Fisher, he’s still wet behind the ears.’
‘Understood, sir.’
The superintendent ended the call. Mr and Mrs Harper were taking their places at a table, flanked by the deputy chief constable and a lady from the Press Office. He grabbed for the remote and turned the volume up.
29
‘Please don’t let him do it to me again,’ sobbed Bella. ‘I want to go home. I want my mummy and daddy.’
‘Stop crying!’ hissed Candy.
‘You said you were my friend.’ Bella sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
‘I’m not your friend, you silly little cow! Now stop crying or I’ll give you a slap.’ She raised her hand menacingly and Bella collapsed onto the bed.
‘What’s her problem?’ asked Eric, coming into the bedroom.
‘She’s being a cry-baby,’ said Candy.
‘It doesn’t matter, we’re almost done with her,’ said Eric.
‘I want to go home,’ whispered Bella.
‘You’re never going home,’ said Candy. ‘Ever. You’re never going to see your mum or your dad or your stupid rabbit. We’re the last thing you’re ever going to see, the last thing you’re ever going to feel. You belong to us and when we’re finished with you we’re going to throw you away like the rubbish you are.’
‘No!’ moaned Bella.
Eric pulled down his jeans and kicked them off. ‘Hold her down,’ he said. ‘And shut her up. I’m sick of her bloody voice.’
30
‘Please keep away from the windows,’ said Inspector Hopkins. ‘We’ll come back before we leave to let you know what’s happening.’
‘Not a problem,’ said Mr Pullman. He opened the front door for them and closed it as they walked back to their van.
The two detectives walked back to the van. The inspector opened the door and tossed his clipboard onto the driver’s seat. ‘Okay, we do a walk around the outside of the house. Do you have anything that looks like it’ll detect a leak?’
‘I’ve got a meter thing,’ said Fisher. He opened the toolbox and took out an electrical meter with an impressive-looking dial. The inspector nodded his approval. ‘Wave that around. If anyone comes out, leave the talking to me.’
Fisher nodded. The inspector slammed the door shut. They walked towards the Lucas house. They walked either side of the Mondeo and then turned to the left to walk by the garage. Fisher waved his meter around and then tried the handle of the garage. To his surprise it opened. ‘Sir!’ he said.
Hopkins hissed at him and threw him a dirty look. Then he motioned for him to pull up the door. Fisher stepped back and pulled the door up a couple of feet. Both men peered inside.
‘Bloody hell,’ said Fisher. It was a white van with the name of a plumbing firm on the side.
Hopkins slipped inside. The signs were magnetic so that they could easily be removed. They had probably removed the signs during the abduction and replaced them when the car was in the garage. There was an internal door connecting the garage to the house. Hopkins tiptoed over to it. Fisher started to duck under the garage door but the inspector waved him back. He reached the connecting door, placed his hands against it and then gently pressed his ear to the wood.
31
Eric rolled off the little girl and grinned at Candy. ‘That was good,’ he said. He wiped the sweat from his face with his hands. ‘That was really good.’
Bella curled up into a ball and cried softly. There was blood on the sheets. Not that it mattered, because they always destroyed the bed linen and towels after it was over.
Candy put her hand around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. Her tongue probed between his teeth and she moaned with pleasure. She groped between his legs and her heart leapt when she discovered that he was growing hard again. He wanted her. He always did after he’d had sex with the girls. ‘Do you want me, Eric?’ she whispered.
‘You know I do,’ he said.
‘Do you love me?’
He reached for her and pulled off her shirt. He fumbled with her bra but he couldn’t unhook it so she did it for him and threw the bra on the floor as her breasts fell free. He kissed her again, harder this time. Candy rolled onto her back, lifted her hips and slipped off her underwear. She could feel how wet she was. Eric tried to get on top of her but she pushed him off and rolled him onto his back. He grinned up at her as she straddled him. She grabbed his chin with her right hand, her fingers digging into his flesh. It was the one time that she had power over him. The only time.
‘Say you love me,’ she said.
‘I love you.’
She lowered herself on to him, gasping as he entered her, then she began to ride him, faster and faster.
Candy stared down at the tearful little girl, her eyes burning with hatred. ‘Look at me, Bella. This is how a real woman fucks a man.’
Bella put her hands over her face and continued to sob.
Candy pounded herself against Eric. ‘Come for me, baby,’ she shouted. ‘Come for me and then we’ll kill the little bitch.’
32
Hopkins moved away from the door and over to Fisher. ‘I can hear voices, but it’s muffled,’ he said.
‘What do we do?’
‘It’s the Super’s call,’ said the inspector. He took out his phone and called Superintendent Wilkinson.
‘What do you think?’ asked the superintendent after Hopkins had brought him up to speed.
‘It’s the same make as the van in the CCTV footage. This one has signs on the side but they’re magnetic. And I can hear voices inside. I think this is it, sir.’
‘Where are you?’
‘In the garage. The door was open.’
‘Well, get the hell out of the garage and wait for armed support. I don’t want this turning into a hostage situation. Hang back and wait for the ARV. Hang on a minute.’ Hopkins heard the superintendent shout over to someone and then someone shouted back. ‘Fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty.’
‘We’ll be in the van,’ said Hopkins.
‘They’ll radio you direct with an ETA,’ said the superintendent. ‘This had better be right or we’re going to look bloody stupid.’
He ended the call.
The inspector nodded at Fisher. ‘Back to the van,’ he said. ‘Quietly does it.’
That was when they heard the scream from inside the house.
33
Eric clamped his hand over Bella’s mouth. ‘Shut up or I’ll snap your neck,’ he said. He’d dressed but hadn’t put his shoes on. Candy had put on her clothes, too, and she stood at the foot of the bed, collecting up Bella’s clothes. ‘All I’m doing is taking you upstairs to clean you. You need a bath. You have to be clean for when we take you back to your mummy and daddy. Do you understand me?’
Bella nodded fearfully.
‘Good girl. Now I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth but if you scream I’ll hurt you, I’ll hurt you real bad. Okay?’
Bella nodded again and Eric slowly removed his hand. His palm was soaked with her tears and he wiped his hand on his jeans. ‘Candy said she was going to kill me,’ she whispered.
‘She was joking,’ said Eric. He flashed Candy an angry glare. ‘We’re going to get you clean and dressed and then we’ll take you to see your mummy and daddy. Tonight you’ll be tucked up safe and sound in your own bed.’
‘You swear?’
Eric nodded. ‘I swear.’
‘Cross your heart and swear to die?’
‘Cross my heart and swear to die,’ said Eric. It was an easy lie to tell because he didn’t believe in God. He didn’t believe in anything much.
Candy laughed and Eric glared at her. He patted Bella on the shoulder. ‘You and me will go upstairs to the bathroom,’ he said. ‘Would you like a bubble bath?’
‘I just want to go home,’ said Bella. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her arm. ‘Please just let me go home.’
‘You are going home,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry.’
He took her by the hand and led her upstairs. First he would clean her, getting rid of any DNA evidence. Then he’d kill her. Then they’d drive her out to the New Forest and bury her near the others. And then the hunt would begin again.
34
Inspector Hopkins yanked at the door. It was locked. He stepped back and considered giving it a kick, but he could see immediately that it was strong enough to take a lot of punishment. He looked around and saw a garden fork and a spade hanging from hooks on the wall. He grabbed the spade and headed for the garage door. ‘Come on, lad,’ he said. ‘Grab that fork and follow me.’
He ducked under the door and hurried around to the back of the house. The superintendent had said to stand by until the Armed Response Vehicle arrived, but the scream had changed all that. It was definitely a young girl and the sound had chilled his blood. It was a scream of a child in fear of her life.
He hurtled down the path to the back of the house. The kitchen door looked as solid as the one in the garage, but the window overlooking the rear garden was one large sheet of glass. Hopkins swung the spade back and brought it crashing through the window, turning his face to avoid any flying glass. Fisher joined him, and together they used their garden tools to hack away the remaining shards of glass.
Hopkins threw his spade through the window and crawled after it. He rolled over the windowsill, then wriggled across the sink and twisted so that he dropped feet first onto the kitchen floor. His shoes crunched on broken glass as he bent down to pick up the spade. Blood smeared across the handle and he realised that he’d cut his left hand. As he straightened up he saw Fisher struggling to crawl through the window. He leaned towards him, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him through before running out of the kitchen.
There was a woman in the hallway, mid-twenties in a grubby sweatshirt and Adidas tracksuit bottoms. ‘Where’s the girl?’ shouted Hopkins.
The woman was in shock, her eyes were wide and her mouth open. She had an acne rash across her forehead and a tan that looked as if it had come from a bottle.
‘The girl?’ shouted Hopkins again, raising the spade with both hands.
The woman pointed up the stairs. ‘Bathroom,’ she said.
Hopkins walloped her left leg with the spade, just below the knee. As the leg buckled he pushed her face down on the floor, just as Fisher came running out of the kitchen. ‘Keep her down, and call the Super, fill him in,’ said Hopkins.
As he ran up the stairs, Fisher planted his foot in the middle of the sobbing woman’s back and fumbled for his phone.
Hopkins took the stairs two at a time, the blade of the shovel scraping against the wall. He reached the landing and looked around. There was a door open to his left and he hurried towards it, raising the spade.
There was a man leaning over the bath. Hopkins saw a mop of greasy brown hair, a Chelsea football shirt and combat trousers. ‘Police!’ he shouted. ‘Turn around.’
Hopkins stepped into the bathroom and saw what the man was doing. ‘You bastard!’ he screamed. The man had his hands around the throat of a girl, submerging her in the water.
Hopkins brought the spade crashing down on the back of the man’s head. It made a dull thudding sound and the man slumped forward. Hopkins dropped the spade, shoved the man to the side and grabbed the girl under her arms. He hauled her out of the water and hugged her to his chest, then carried her out of the bathroom. He laid her on the carpet and scraped her wet hair away from her face. She wasn’t breathing and he didn’t waste time feeling for a pulse. It had been years since he had been on any sort of first aid course but he remembered enough to check that her airway was clear before tilting her head back and putting his lips over hers to blow air into her lungs. The second his mouth touched hers he knew that he was wasting his time.
35
The woman was begging Fisher to let her up and complaining that she couldn’t breathe. Fisher had some plastic ties in one of the pockets of his overalls and he pulled one out to bind her wrists together. ‘You can’t do this to me, I’ve got rights!’ she shouted. ‘He hit me, he hit my leg with a bloody spade!’
Fisher stood up. As he took his phone out he looked down at the bloody gash on her leg. ‘You’ll live,’ he said.
‘I’ve got my rights!’ she shouted again.
Fisher called the superintendent and told him what had happened.
‘Do you have the girl?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Fisher.
‘What the hell do you mean you’re not sure? What are you playing at?’
‘I’ll check,’ said Fisher.
‘Check? What do you mean, check?’
Fisher hurried to the stairs. ‘Sir, the Super wants to know if the girl’s okay.’ There was no answer. ‘Sir?’ He headed up the stairs. The inspector was kneeling next to the naked girl, blowing into her mouth, then he sat back on his heels and began a vigorous heart massage. ‘Sir, is she okay? The Super wants to know if she’s okay.’
Fisher realised that there were tears streaming down the inspector’s face and that little Bella Harper wasn’t okay.
36
Superintendent Wilkinson climbed out of the car and squared his shoulders. There were two police vans parked outside the house, a white SOCO van and three regular patrol cars. Two Police Community Support Officers were marking a perimeter with blue and white police tape.
Detective Sergeant Sean McKillop had driven from the station and he got out and looked over at the superintendent. ‘No ambulance?’
‘There’s one on the way.’ Wilkinson belched and rubbed his stomach. He’d had indigestion since he’d taken the call from Detective Fisher. He’d already chewed two Rennies but took them out of his pocket and popped another two in his mouth.
He walked towards the house, his hands in the pockets of his overcoat. Murder scenes weren’t pleasant places at the best of times, but dealing with a murdered child was just about the worst scenario imaginable. He knew that he would be the ranking officer. The top brass would be giving the crime scene a wide berth. If Bella had turned up alive they’d rushing over to take the credit, but no one wanted to be tainted with a dead child. That would be
down to him, to stand in front of the cameras and give the bad news. His stomach lurched and he tasted vomit at the back of his throat.
As the superintendent ducked under the tape and headed for the front door, an ambulance arrived. There were no sirens or flashing lights, there was no need. Bella Harper was dead.
A uniformed constable was standing guard at the front door and he stepped aside to allow the detectives through. ‘Where’s the girl?’ asked the superintendent.
‘Upstairs,’ said the officer.
‘And the suspects?’
‘Sitting room, first on the right.’
The superintendent stepped into the hallway. There were two more uniformed officers there and a PCSO. They stopped talking as soon as they saw the superintendent and it was clear they hadn’t been discussing work. Wilkinson jerked a thumb at the door behind him. ‘Out,’ he said.
There were four more uniformed officers standing in the kitchen. ‘Will you get the hell out of the house – this is a crime scene, not a bloody meeting hall!’ shouted Wilkinson.
He went into the sitting room. There were another four uniformed officers there, one of them a sergeant that Wilkinson recognised. Denis Tyler, a twenty-year veteran of the Sussex police and an old school copper. Standing by the window was Aaron Fisher, white-faced and looking as if he was about to throw up. Sitting on an armchair by the TV was a woman in her twenties with an orange complexion and dyed blonde hair that looked as if it had been hacked with a breadknife.
There was a man on the sofa. He had greasy unkempt hair and a hooked nose over thin, bloodless lips. The man and the woman had their hands cuffed behind them.
‘What’s the story, Denis?’ asked the superintendent.
Nightshade: The Fourth Jack Nightingale Supernatural Thriller Page 11