Cold as Ice

by Lee Weeks

  ‘It’s no problem at all.’

  Ebony kept her eyes on Yan as she tickled Archie’s other hand.

  ‘Yes. It is. I’m looking for a new start. New flat, new life for me and Archie. Just us.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll make it. Well . . . if I can help in any way?’ He looked ready to conclude the interview. Ebony thought she’d handled the worst of it – now she could relax somewhat and try to work on Yan a little. He seemed the sympathetic type.

  ‘Is this a good college to come to for single parents?’ He looked momentarily flustered and blinked behind his glasses. ‘I mean, is there some social life here? I’m not much of a party girl but I would like to meet people, you know? Make a few friends. My family aren’t around. It’s just me and Archie, as I said.’

  ‘Oh yes. I see. It’s a good place if you make an effort. There’s a fair bit of socializing via Facebook, that kind of thing. There’s a Christmas party going on in the canteen right now. We could butt in if you like? Just say hello. Some of the people you’d be doing the teacher training course with will be in there. Some have been studying for a year or two. Would you like to meet them?’

  ‘Love to. I’m a bit out of practice with socializing. Since I had Archie I haven’t really been out much.’

  ‘Perfect chance then – nothing too scary, I promise. Follow me. I’ve already been in there with one group for lunch but . . . what the hell . . . After all, it’s working in the broad sense of the word.’ He walked back through the office and called across to his colleague on the way. It was the same woman who’d directed Ebony across to Yan in the first place. ‘Just showing a new student where the canteen is and introducing her to the group – okay?’

  She looked up from her desk, grinned and rolled her eyes.

  ‘Go on then.’

  She winked at Ebony as if she were used to his liberty-taking. He turned back to Ebony with a smile.

  ‘Wish it was Christmas every day. It’s a miracle what a couple of lunchtime drinks will do.’

  Ebony followed Yan through the office. She caught the buggy on the leg of a chair. He steered it expertly out of the way.

  ‘I’ll push if you like. I’m used to negotiating buggies through the office.’

  ‘Thanks. Have you worked here long?’

  ‘I’ve been here three years. I came here like everyone else to try and catch up on missing qualifications. Which I did, and then I applied for a clerical job here and worked up to being an advisor. I wasn’t expecting to like it that much but I find it a really worthwhile job. It’s nice to help people. I mean, I don’t intend to stay here for ever.

  ‘What do you want to do?’

  ‘I don’t have any idea what I want to do long-term. But then hardly anybody does, do they?’

  ‘No. I don’t.’ Ebony was thinking how strange it must be not to have a twenty-year plan. Her goal was to take her sergeant’s theory exam next year, in March and work in the different departments within MIT, including Organized Crime and Vice. She wanted to learn more about major fraud cases. When she felt ready, she’d take her inspector’s exam. That was her main aim – she wanted to be an inspector in the Murder Squad within ten years. At the end of twenty years she wanted to be a superintendent at least. None of the plan involved a marriage or babies.

  ‘Do you have a lot of single parents coming through?’ she asked as they walked along.

  He turned back to her and smiled, nodding. ‘A lot of people wanting to get off the treadmill they’re on. It’s the nice side of my job, when people come back a couple of years later and their circumstances are really changed – you know? They’re happy. It’s a lot about self-esteem.’

  He looked back at her with a quick glance then manoeuvred the buggy effortlessly through the office, out into the corridor, left before the reception desk and down towards the smell of a canteen.

  Ebony looked at posters advertising job opportunities on the walls on the way.

  ‘Yes. Must be satisfying, your job. Helping people change their lives around, learn new skills?’

  ‘Yes it is. I won’t lie though – I’d rather be lying on the deck of a boat in the sunshine. Or drinking rum in . . .? Where’s the newest place to go in Kingston?’

  ‘Oh . . . there are so many, aren’t there?’ Ebony looked nervously at the people they were approaching. She was hoping she’d managed to cover her tracks a bit and confuse him into thinking she was anxious about something other than remembering all the facts she’d had hardly any time to learn. She’d definitely look them up later and find out what was current in Jamaica.

  ‘Here they are – meet the rabble.’ In the corner of the canteen a group of mainly women were chatting noisily, with kids running around unchecked. Some were standing, bouncing fractious babies on their hips. He steered Archie’s buggy across to the group and Ebony followed. The canteen looked like it had seen a fair few parties that day. The cleaners were sweeping up party streamers from the floor.

  One of the women standing, rocking a buggy whilst holding a glass of wine in her hand, turned and called out to Yan as they approached:

  ‘You can’t keep away, can you?’

  Someone else echoed it with a: ‘What? You back again?’

  He gave an exaggerated shrug and rolled his eyes in embarrassment.

  ‘It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it. Meet Ebony.’ He turned and waited for Ebony to come level with him. ‘Hopefully, she’ll be joining the group after Christmas.’ There was a chorus of hellos and the end of the table opened up as people made space for them to sit down. An Asian woman with a gold stud in her ear and enormous beautiful eyes poured a glass of red wine and handed it to Ebony from across the table.

  ‘Sorry, there’s only red left.’

  ‘Red’s great, thanks.’ Ebony took it from her and took a sip. ‘Cheers.’ She raised her glass and then put it back on the table. There was shrieking and howls of laughter at the other end of the table.

  ‘I told you they were a rowdy bunch.’ Yan settled Archie’s buggy next to the table. Archie was sleeping. ‘Let me introduce you . . .’ He worked his way around the table, calling the women out by name. ‘I’ll leave you to chat now. Call and see me on the way out if you need to, otherwise ring me in a couple of days. I’ll have done most of your paperwork by then. I’m on Facebook if you feel like chatting.’

  Ebony smiled and nodded as Yan stood and, amongst a few friendly tipsy attempts at berating him for leaving the table, he went on his good-humoured way.

  The woman who had first greeted them sat down next to Ebony. She was young, elfin-featured; her name was Sammy.

  ‘You joining the group then?’

  Ebony nodded. ‘Hopefully.’ She’d watched Yan go, thinking about how he’d be checking out all that she had said. Her existence, national security number, her housing association history. All of it had been set up meticulously by Robbo. Now they would see how well it worked. ‘You all seem to get on well?’

  ‘Yes. It’s quite a social group as well as hard work,’ answered Selena, a friendly-faced woman with a shock of tumbling curls and a peasant blouse, long silver earrings. She had black kohl eyeliner around her pretty green eyes. ‘We support each other – have to, a lot of us are single parents.’

  ‘Teaching seems the ideal job.’ Ebony looked around. Down the other end of the table there was one man in the group. He was joining in with the laughter.

  ‘That’s Christian. He’s the token man on the team. His little girl is so sweet,’ said Selena.

  ‘Is he the only man on the course?’

  ‘Yeah. He’s been on it since the beginning. He’s been studying here for years.’

  Selena leaned towards Ebony in a stage whisper. ‘Most of the women fancy him; he has a new one every week. The person he’s most in love with is himself.’

  Ebony made a face that said ‘Really?’

  Selena laughed and nodded. ‘Not me personally but the women who are talking to him now – they re
ally like him.’

  Just then the women stopped laughing and looked their way. The man, Christian, had been half eavesdropping into Ebony’s conversation. He excused himself and walked down the outside of the row of chairs, stopped by Ebony and held out his hand.

  ‘Christian.’

  ‘Ebony.’

  Ebony tried to stand to shake his hand. She got her leg caught in the chair.

  ‘No, don’t get up; I didn’t mean to interrupt, just came to say hi to the new girl. And to tell her not to believe everything this lot say. This is the naughty end of the table.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’ Selena laughed.

  ‘It’s nice to have you on the course. Are you going to do computer skills and word processing?’ Ebony looked unsure. ‘Oh well, I’ll see you in there if you are. Nice to meet you.’

  ‘You too.’

  ‘If you need anything you can Facebook me. I’m Christian Goddard.’

  ‘Okay.’ She smiled. Christian walked back along the row and continued his raucous conversation with the women at the other end from Ebony. There were shrieks and giggles on his return.

  Selena was grinning when she looked back.

  ‘Never takes him long to hit on the new girl.’

  Ebony rolled her eyes. ‘Doesn’t he have any competition?’

  ‘We had a couple.’

  ‘Men?’

  ‘Yeah, there are a few around. But Christian seems to be the Alpha male.’

  ‘He dates exclusively single mothers,’ said Sammy.

  ‘I suppose he’s got a child. He wants to find someone in the same circumstances?’ Ebony said as she sipped her wine.

  ‘It doesn’t seem to get them very far with him,’ retorted Selena. ‘It doesn’t do them any good either. Some of them end up dropping out of the course.’ She looked across for confirmation from her friend. ‘I was thinking of a couple of women that dropped out – what was her name?’

  ‘Who?’ asked Sammy.

  ‘The girl from IT who dropped out, or she just didn’t come back. Not sure why?’

  ‘There’ve been a few,’ Sammy answered. ‘One was called Emily.’

  ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘Did you see the news? She was pulled out of the Regent’s Canal.’

  Chapter 34

  Robbo went to get a cup of water from the water dispenser by the door. He could hear a couple of officers talking way down the hall. He heard Bowie’s nervous cough. The one that sounded like he had a lump of phlegm in his throat which he hadn’t been able to shift for a decade or two. Every few moments he tried again.

  Robbo knew he had gone past the point of being able to close his eyes. Now, he would have to knock himself out with sleeping pills to sleep and then he would sleep for a week, getting up only to eat, staying in his bedroom, sleeping so solidly that he wouldn’t even dream. But for now, he needed to be as mad as it took to see all the layers of the women’s suffering, to see into the mind of the man who caused it.

  He got his water and went back to his desk; there were four pieces of jewellery in front of him: the charm bracelet, two rings and the chain. He ran the chain through his fingers over and over. He watched it coil onto the desk. It was mid-afternoon. Pam was watching him out of the corner of her eye. She was worried about him. She knew he needed to sleep so badly but she had seen him this way many times and she knew he would only catnap now until it was over and then he’d collapse for a week.

  Robbo sat listening to the noise of the chain, a shushing noise that became loud in his head. He was waiting for HOLMES to finish a check. He picked up Emily Styles’ ring and turned it over in his hand. The sharp edges worn dull from years of use. HOLMES was finished; he printed off the pages he needed and smiled across at Pam, as taking the ring with him, he stood and stepped out into the corridor.

  He felt calmer in the corridor. He walked down towards Bowie’s office. Robbo had no love for Bowie. Years ago they had worked together in CID. But Bowie had gone undercover and helped to end one of the biggest paedophile rings in the country. Robbo had been part of the surveillance team watching Bowie as he integrated into the ring. He had his methods but Robbo wasn’t always convinced they were by the book. Robbo was also not sure that anyone could do five years in undercover work and come out of it the same way they went in.

  ‘This is the new search that takes in the jewellery connection plus other things: age of kids, geographical location to college and within a mile of Hawk’s phone radius.’ Robbo slid a file across Bowie’s desk. On it he had the names of five women; clipped to their names were photos.

  ‘These women fit all the criteria. Three missing, two dead. All of these women are linked by the fact they are all in their twenties, they are single mums living in North London and they were all attending classes of some kind in order to retrain.’

  Robbo handed him the print-out from HOLMES. ‘Two years ago this woman—’ he pointed to the photo of Charlotte Rogers – ‘disappeared and a year later her body was found in woodland belonging to the National Trust.’

  ‘What was the coroner’s verdict?’

  ‘Open verdict. The only thing on her was the bracelet but her mother didn’t recognize it. This is Sophie Vein.’ He pointed to another photo. ‘She was found decomposed in a forest in Rickmansworth, Hertfordshire in February 2011. She’d been lying there for an estimated nine months. She disappeared a while before that, in the August of the previous summer.’

  ‘Anything found on her?’

  ‘Examination of the organs was not possible as they were too badly decomposed; there was evidence of deep ulcerated wounds, causing infections in the bone. Her mother said she always wore a small pink ring on her little finger. Could be the one we have.’

  ‘We’ll ask Harding to take another look at the post mortem results and get some re-analysis of the samples taken at the post mortem and the burial site. Was there nothing before 2010?’

  ‘Not that we can uncover. None of the women on the list who might possibly be a victim. If he follows the normal pattern of starting to kill in his early twenties then he is thirty at least.’

  ‘Something happened in the lead-up to that year then. Something flicked his switch,’ said Bowie.

  ‘He searches out single mothers; they have to have children. All the women have been described as strong women, determined, not easily fooled. None of these women were registered junkies. None of them were thought to be users of class A drugs.’

  ‘What were the ulcerated sites on the women’s bodies then? asked Bowie.

  ‘The results are still not in. But it’s certain that whatever it was started under the skin, localized; it ulcerated and then necrosis occurred,’ answered Robbo. ‘Harding said there was evidence of antibiotics in Pauline Murphy’s hair sample. Her doctor hadn’t prescribed them at the time of her disappearance – it’s the same scenario as Emily Styles. I think Hawk tries to control the infection.’

  ‘Did he infect them with something himself?’ Robbo shrugged.

  ‘I don’t know but I’m beginning to think it likely.’

  ‘He introduces it and then tries to control it?’ asked Bowie. ‘As in experimenting on people, watching them die? What is he, some type of Doctor Mengele?’

  ‘Could be,’ answered Robbo. ‘Every body is different and some organs will fail before others. When they can’t last any longer he finishes them off. He chooses the time for them to die.’

  ‘Do we have a DNA sample of Hawk from Pauline Murphy’s body?’

  ‘Yes we think we do. He left semen on Pauline Murphy’s body but he’s not a match for anyone in our system.’

  ‘All these women went to colleges within the North London college umbrella,’ said Bowie. ‘But we can’t bring in every male attending and working in the North London college network.’

  ‘I’ve worked out the dates for these missing women. They don’t just overlap; he doesn’t just replace, he keeps them together. They all cross over. Right now Danielle won’t be alone
.’ He showed Bowie the last woman on the list of three.

  ‘Top photo is of Jenny Smith. A single parent with one child. She was attending a computer course at London Metropolitan University while staying in bed and breakfast accommodation. She left a little girl with friends overnight and failed to come in the morning to collect her. That was two years ago and she hasn’t been seen since.’

  ‘Eighteen months mean she would have crossed over with Pauline Murphy. Why haven’t we found her remains? He’s been leaving the others where they will be found.’

  ‘That’s a thing he’s grown into. Maybe that’s why he did it – because we never found her body. He wants attention. He wants recognition. What’s the point in going to all this attention to detail if no one knows about it?’

  ‘Yes, you could be right. Or maybe she hasn’t been killed yet.’

  ‘He gives a piece of jewellery to those he kills, doesn’t he?’ Bowie picked up the chain and turned it over in his hand.

  ‘Yes, but we don’t know what makes him choose a particular piece of jewellery to give to the women. We just know that it must be when he has decided to kill them. The chain around Emily Styles’ neck was enmeshed in her hair, caught at the back of her head where the clasp had become entangled with her hair and torn some out by the roots. The hair was torn from living flesh not dead. So he goes through a ceremony before death: mask of make-up, jewellery. He arranges them for death. I looked back through her file and Jenny Smith always wore her grandmother’s antique engagement ring. We have a photo of it.’ Robbo scrolled down the images on his laptop and stopped at the photo of the ring and then he opened his hand and placed the ring on the desk in front of Bowie. He turned it to show Bowie. ‘It’s the same one we found on Emily Styles.’

  Robbo went back to his office and laid the two rings and the chain on the desk in front of him. He couldn’t stop staring at it. Something wasn’t right. He didn’t know what, though. He sat back in his chair and tried to close his eyes, tried to rest. More than anything Robbo had the image of Danielle Foster in the coffin. He started hyperventilating when he thought about it. He could see the body of Pauline Murphy in all its horror, inside the box. He saw the mask of make-up and a chain around her neck. The chain was enmeshed in her flesh and Robbo was trying to pick it out but it was so messy his fingers kept sliding. He looked up at Pauline Murphy’s face but suddenly it wasn’t her face he saw. It was Ebony’s.