Dying Wish

by James Raven

  ‘This is unbelievable,’ Marsh said, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper.

  Temple turned to look at her standing beside him. The colour had drained from her cheeks and her eyes were stretched wide.

  ‘I think we’ve both seen enough,’ he said.

  Marsh followed him back along the path to the car park, which had been invaded by reporters and TV camera operators. When they saw Temple, they immediately surrounded him like a pack of wolves and started throwing questions.

  ‘Is it true you’ve found another grave?’

  ‘Can you confirm there are two bodies this time?’

  ‘Do the bodies belong to Bob and Rosemary Hamilton?’

  Temple stopped walking and fixed his gaze on the reporter who had asked the last question.

  ‘I can tell you that we have found human remains in a shallow grave,’ he said. ‘But they definitely do not belong to Mr and Mrs Hamilton.’

  ‘So what made you carry out a search in this particular area?’ someone asked.

  ‘I’m not in a position to reveal that information at this stage,’ Temple said. ‘But as you probably know, there’s going to be a press conference at police headquarters in Southampton later this afternoon. You can ask that question again.’

  ‘There are rumours that Grant Mason left a map on which he marked the locations of his victims’ graves,’ the reporter said. ‘Is that so? Did you come across the map?’

  Temple felt anger stab at him like a knife in the ribs. The media weren’t supposed to know about the map.

  ‘Look, as soon as we can release more details we will,’ he said. ‘But right now I really don’t have the time to answer your questions.’

  Temple pushed through the scrum and strode over to the mobile incident truck with Marsh in tow. The reporters were ushered away by a couple of uniforms who told them to leave the car park. But that was unlikely to happen. The forest was now a media hotspot and the search for bodies was generating too much interest.

  And Temple knew that after this afternoon’s press conference, the story was set to get even bigger – after his bosses revealed that Grant Mason had an accomplice.

  26

  Temple set up a conference call from the mobile incident unit. He wanted to update Chief Superintendent Beresford before the afternoon press conference got underway. Vaughan joined in on behalf of the rest of the team.

  They already knew that the decaying bodies of a man and woman had been found, but they were surprised to learn about the electrical cable.

  ‘It tallies with the post-mortem findings on Paul Kellerman,’ Vaughan said. ‘The pathologist has found markings on what was left of the student’s neck. They indicated ligature strangulation.’

  ‘Seems the appropriate MO for a couple of sadomasochists,’ Beresford said. ‘Plus, it doesn’t create a mess, which can be a problem when moving bodies around. What else did the post-mortem turn up?’

  ‘There are a number of other injuries which suggest the lad was subjected to violence before he died,’ Vaughan said. ‘Three broken ribs, a cracked jawbone and a fractured right arm.’

  Temple then described the scene at the South Oakley Inclosure, and said that the grave was only yards from a visitor car park.

  ‘That’s something I was going to mention,’ Beresford said. ‘It’s been pointed out to me that all the crosses on Mason’s map are close to car parking areas – both official and unofficial.’

  ‘That makes sense from the killers’ point of view,’ Temple said. ‘They didn’t have far to carry the bodies.’

  ‘I’ll mention it at the presser.’

  ‘Be prepared to answer questions about the map too, guv,’ Temple said. ‘The media have got wind of it.’

  ‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me? So what do you suggest?’

  ‘We don’t really have a choice. Might as well confirm that we did find a map in Mason’s house and it was what prompted us to start the searches.’

  ‘They’ll want the details.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think we need to hold anything back since they already know how many graves there are thought to be. We just don’t reveal the locations. They’ll find out where those are when we start digging.’

  ‘On that point, the Chief Constable is going to make an announcement at the presser,’ Beresford said. ‘He’s arranging for search teams to be sent to all the locations on the map tomorrow, and this will be made possible by drafting in the army to help us.’

  ‘That’s a good call,’ Temple said. ‘There’s no point dragging it out unless we have to.’

  Beresford then asked if there was any progress in the hunt for Mason’s accomplice.

  ‘There’s a guy named Tom Fowler who looks a bit sus,’ Temple said. ‘He was Mason’s friend.’

  Temple told them what Amanda Cross had said about Fowler being into sado sex, and about his conviction and sentence for manslaughter.

  ‘Sounds promising,’ Beresford said. ‘What’s your gut feeling?’

  ‘I’ll let you know after we’ve spoken to him, which will be in the next hour.’

  ‘So what about the Hamiltons? I don’t suppose we’ve got anything to report there.’

  ‘They’re still missing,’ Temple said. ‘But you need to stress that we’re working on the assumption that they’re still alive, and that the bodies in the grave are those of an unidentified couple and not Bob and Rosemary Hamilton.’

  ‘Very well. And Paul Kellerman? Can we name him yet?’

  ‘We can,’ Vaughan said. ‘His parents have been informed, and we’ve got people standing by to get in touch with the families of Simon and Jane Cramer once we know for sure it’s them.’

  Temple asked Vaughan if they’d received any word from the other search location near Godshill.

  ‘No news yet, boss. But if there’s another grave there I’m sure they’ll find it soon enough.’

  Temple wished Beresford good luck with the press conference and ended the call. He was glad he didn’t have to be there. The event was sure to be beamed around the world. The news channels would probably take it live so the pressure to get it right would be enormous. The fact that it was being fronted by the Chief Constable was a measure of how important the case was. And how big.

  In fact, Temple had never felt so overwhelmed by a case in his life. Three bodies had already been found. Two people were missing and possibly dead. And there was a serial sex killer still on the loose.

  Was it any wonder that his headache was back and the acid was churning in his stomach?

  27

  They left the Oakley car park after the conference call and headed back towards East Boldre.

  Temple’s headache continued to tap away in his skull, so he popped another one of the pills the hospital had prescribed for him. The acid reflux remained a problem, but he was hoping to remedy that by grabbing a bite to eat after their meeting with Tom Fowler.

  He lived in a detached house about a mile outside East Boldre. The two-storey property looked run-down. The outside needed a fresh coat of white paint and there were tiles missing from the slate grey roof.

  The house was on the edge of a wood and within sight of a small lake. The nearest neighbour was a couple of hundred yards away.

  There was a vehicle on the driveway, a spotlessly white and fairly new Ford Focus.

  Temple and Marsh got out of the pool car and Temple took a moment to study his surroundings.

  The sun shone weakly through the clouds and a current of air stirred the trees behind the house. Out on the moor a couple of ponies were grazing, oblivious to the horrors that were unfolding around them in the forest.

  ‘What are you thinking, guv?’ Marsh said.

  He managed a grim smile. ‘I’m thinking that this would be a good place to carry out systematic torture. There’s no one around to hear the screams.’

  ‘That applies to about half the properties in the forest,’ she said. ‘The solitude, the isolation, the remoteness. It�
��s what makes this place so popular with people who want a quiet life.’

  He knew that to be true. He and Erin had actually given serious consideration to moving to the forest just before she was taken ill. Which was why it never happened.

  Tom Fowler appeared at his front door as they approached. He was wearing a baggy white shirt, open at the collar, and black jeans.

  ‘Hello again, officers,’ he said, his face serious. ‘I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.’

  ‘We got held up,’ Temple said. ‘Have we kept you from doing something or going somewhere?’

  ‘Not really. Saturday afternoons I usually chill out in front of the box or go for a long walk.’

  They stepped into a spacious entrance hall with stairs and a stand-alone coat rack. The patterned carpet was threadbare in places, and the walls were painted a dull and depressing shade of grey.

  They trailed Fowler into an untidy kitchen which had dark, dated units and an old fashioned ceramic sink. The room was big enough to accommodate a large pine table and four chairs.

  ‘Take a seat,’ Fowler said. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  The worktops were cluttered with jars, cereal packets, bottles of soft drinks and takeaway food cartons.

  There were also several bottles of spirits and a box of canned beers.

  He sat down at the table while Marsh remained standing with her back against the wall.

  Fowler asked them if they were happy to have coffee because he’d run out of tea bags. They both said they were, and Temple studied him as he filled the mugs.

  He was about five foot eight or nine, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. He looked fit and healthy, and Temple reckoned he was about the same size and shape as the man in the balaclava who had attacked him in Mason’s house. And he could also have been the guy on the videos wearing the black leather head mask.

  Fowler handed Marsh a mug and put Temple’s on the table in front of him.

  Then he sat down and crossed his arms. ‘So how can I be of help to you, Inspector?’

  Temple had already worked out in his mind how he was going to approach the interview. He didn’t want Fowler to think he was a suspect from the start because that would put him on the defensive.

  ‘It’s information we’re after, Mr Fowler,’ he said. ‘We’re trying to find out as much as we can about Grant Mason. As you probably know by now, he’s being linked to the disappearance and possible murders of a number of people whose bodies were buried in the forest.’

  Fowler adopted a solemn expression. ‘I’ve been following it on the news. It’s like something out of a horror film. I just can’t believe that Grant would have done such a thing.’

  ‘So what exactly was your relationship with him?’

  He shrugged. ‘We were friends. We drank in the same pub and I went on hikes with him.’

  ‘How and when did you meet?’

  ‘Just over four years ago, he popped into our office in Brockenhurst. He was looking to buy a house in the area. He said he wanted to settle down and write books. I showed him a couple of properties, including the house he eventually bought near here. After that we stayed in touch.’

  ‘I gather you set up a ramblers’ group and made him honorary chairman.’

  ‘The group existed before he arrived on the scene, but it was a sensible move because it raised our profile and attracted a few new members.’

  ‘Were you at the book signing last Wednesday when he had his heart attack?’

  ‘Unfortunately, I wasn’t. He did invite me, but I had work commitments.’

  Temple scribbled a few notes, which gave Marsh the opportunity to ask some questions.

  ‘This is a nice house, Mr Fowler,’ she said. ‘How many bedrooms are there?’

  ‘Three.’

  ‘And what about a basement? Does it have one?’

  He gave her a puzzled look. ‘No. Why do you want to know that?’

  ‘Just curious. Do you live here alone?’

  His breathing faltered. ‘I’ve been single for over eighteen years since separating from my wife. But it suits me. Life is a lot less complicated than it used to be when I was married. And I don’t get nagged.’

  ‘Did Grant Mason often come here?’ she asked.

  ‘Not really. He came a few times over the years but we usually got together at the Court Jester, that’s a local pub.’

  ‘And when you were with him, did he ever open up about himself?’

  Fowler narrowed his eyes. ‘If you mean did he give any indication that he was abducting people and then killing them, then the answer is no. In fact, he very rarely talked about anything other than his books, the forest and politics.’

  ‘So he didn’t tell you about his sex life then?’ Marsh said.

  Fowler’s jaw dropped. ‘What kind of question is that?’

  ‘It would help if you could just answer it, Mr Fowler.’

  Fowler’s eyes darted between Temple and Marsh and then settled on the table top.

  ‘Like me, Grant wasn’t married and as far as I know, he wasn’t in a relationship,’ he said.

  ‘Since when do you need to be in a relationship to have sex?’ Marsh pointed out.

  Fowler shifted in his chair, unfolded his arms and rested them on the table, palms down.

  ‘Are you asking me about Grant’s sex life for any particular reason, Detective? Because if you are, then I think it’s only fair that you tell me.’

  Marsh started to respond, but Temple beat her to it.

  ‘We have reason to believe that Mason was a sexual sadist,’ he said. ‘He did bad things to his victims before killing them.’

  Fowler pulled a face like he’d swallowed something bitter.

  ‘What sort of things?’ he said.

  Temple leaned forwards and held the man’s gaze.

  ‘He inflicted rape and torture on his victims before he murdered them. What’s more, we know that he had an accomplice – a man who joined in his depraved acts. That person – who we believe also lives in the forest – is still alive and kicking as far as we know.’

  Fowler’s features froze and his eyes grew wide in their sockets.

  ‘I … I had no idea.’

  Temple studied him carefully, noted that small beads of sweat appeared above his top lip.

  ‘The man we’re looking for enjoys inflicting pain and humiliation on his victims,’ Temple said. ‘That’s how he gets his kicks. In much the same way as you do, Mr Fowler.’

  Fowler’s mouth fell open. ‘You can’t possibly think that I’m that man.’

  ‘It has crossed our minds, given your criminal record and your love of rough, kinky sex.’

  Fowler’s features curled in outrage. ‘What the fuck is going on here? If you bastards are trying to stitch me up then I want a lawyer.’

  ‘Just look at it from our point of view,’ Temple said. ‘You were one of Mason’s closest friends and you shared a passion for violent sex. Plus, you killed your girlfriend during a violent sex game. So you’re bound to be a person of interest to us.’

  A sneer rose on Fowler’s face. ‘What happened to Jessica was an accident. There’s not a day goes by when I don’t regret it. But it doesn’t make me a mass fucking murderer.’

  ‘But it does make you a suspect and the sooner we can eliminate you from our inquiries, the better for all concerned.’

  A vein in the side of Fowler’s neck started to pulse and his body became ramrod stiff. He ran a hand through his hair and licked dry lips.

  ‘Were you aware that Mason also served time in prison?’ Temple asked.

  Fowler seemed genuinely surprised. ‘No, I wasn’t.’

  ‘Is that right? So as a matter of interest, where were you banged up?’

  He tipped his head back. ‘First the Scrubs and then Win-chester. And before you ask, I never came across Grant inside.’

  ‘So did he know that you were into bondage and sadomasochism?’

  ‘Most of my friends do.
I’ve never made a secret of the fact.’

  ‘That’s unusual, isn’t it?’ Temple said. ‘Most people who practice BDSM stay in the closet because they feel embarrassed or discriminated against.’

  He shrugged. ‘That used to be the case. More people than ever are coming out now. I came out a long time ago. I found that once people accept you for what you are, it ceases to be an issue.’

  ‘So are you still active on the S&M scene?’ Marsh asked. ‘Despite what you did to your girlfriend?’

  Fowler lowered his head. ‘I am, but not in the same way.’

  ‘Care to explain?’

  ‘I’m a masochist now, detective. I want to receive pain. After what happened to Jessica, I can’t bring myself to hurt anyone. Being punished on a regular basis is my way of dealing with the guilt that’s been eating away at me for years.’

  ‘So it’s not just about sexual stimulation then?’ Marsh said, her tone sarcastic.

  ‘It’s always been more than that, Detective. If you’re not part of that world then you wouldn’t understand.’

  Marsh raised her eyebrows. ‘So who does the punishing?’

  ‘I use an escort agency that specializes in BDSM,’ Fowler said. ‘They provide dominatrices.’

  ‘You mean women who are prepared to beat you up and humiliate you?’

  His neck tensed. ‘There’s no need to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.’

  ‘So what’s the name of this agency?’ Temple asked.

  ‘Extreme Services. It’s based in Southampton.’

  ‘And who runs it?’

  ‘A bloke named Ross Cavendish. I’ve got his number if you want it.’

  ‘We do.’

  Fowler took his mobile from his pocket, scrawled through his contacts and read out the number. Temple jotted it down on his pad.

  After a long, thoughtful pause, Temple said, ‘We appreciate the fact that you’ve been so candid with us, Mr Fowler. We will want to talk to you again once we’ve carried out some checks. Now before we go, would you allow us to look around?’

  ‘You mean you want to search my house?’

  ‘Not exactly search it. We’d just—’