Cold Killing dsc-1

by Luke Delaney

  He unlocked his bottom desk drawer and pulled out an unopened bottle of dark rum and a heavy, shallow glass. The rum had been in there for months. He only kept it out of a sense of tradition. He had rarely felt the need to use it, until now.

  He poured an inch of rum into the glass and rolled it around. He put the glass tentatively to his lips and drank a quarter of it in one go. It was a lot for him. The back of his throat burned painfully, but he enjoyed the warmth of the liquid.

  He reached forward for his desk phone. He needed to call Kate. His ringing mobile stopped him. He answered sounding tired and dispirited.

  “Guv. It’s Jean Colville.” DS Jean Colville was running the relief surveillance team, brought in to cover while DS Handy’s team regrouped and licked their collective wounds. “Thought you’d like to know your man just arrived home like nothing happened.”

  Sean sprang to his feet as if suddenly standing to attention. “What’s he wearing?” he asked.

  “Suit and tie,” Jean answered.

  “How’s he look?”

  “Fine. Normal, I guess.” She sounded puzzled.

  “Okay,” Sean said. He checked his watch. Damn. Half his team would be semidrunk by now, the other half would have headed off toward whichever corner of London they lived in. Had there been time since he went missing for Hellier to find a victim, kill, and calmly return home? Sean doubted it. No, this evening he’d been up to something else. Better to let the team rest for a while. What more could he lose?

  “I need you to keep him under obs tonight,” he told DS Colville. “I’ll be there in the morning to take him out. Hopefully he won’t move again until then.”

  “No problem, guv,” Jean answered. “If he moves, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks.” Sean hung up, waited a few seconds, and called Sally. When she answered he could hear she was in the pub.

  “Sally. It’s Sean.”

  “Please tell me you’re not still at work.” She sounded sober enough.

  “Contact Donnelly and the rest of the team.” He knew Donnelly at least would be close by. “Six A.M. briefing back here. We’re taking Hellier out before he leaves for work.”

  “Before he leaves for work?” she asked. He could hear the confusion in her voice. “He’s gone home?”

  “Don’t ask me why,” Sean replied. “I don’t know what he’s up to, but we’re going to finish this tomorrow.”

  The light shining through the front door’s window was not a good sign. It was past eleven and he’d expected all to be quiet and dark inside. He turned the key as quietly as he could and carefully pushed the door open. The scent of the family who lived inside pleasantly assaulted his olfactory system. As he stepped inside he could hear the television quietly playing in the living room. He followed the sound. Kate lay on the sofa, and Louise lay across her chest, sleeping fitfully.

  “What is she doing out of bed?” Sean asked his wife.

  She shushed him before answering. “She has a temperature. Something going around at nursery.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “She’ll be fine. I’ve given her some ibuprofen. I just hope she doesn’t give it to Mandy. I could do without having to look after two sick children.” Louise stirred on Kate’s chest.

  “If it comes to that, I’ll take some time off work and help out.”

  “Take some time off work?” she whispered. “How do you plan on doing that?”

  “We’ve had a break in the case. Things should start happening pretty quickly now. With any luck we’ll be able to charge our suspect and wrap things up within a few days.”

  “And then, no doubt, you’ll inherit another case and we’ll be back to the same old routine.”

  “It’s late and I have an early start tomorrow,” he said. “This is probably not a good time to discuss this. You’re tired and stressed. Having this conversation won’t help.”

  “Yes. You’re right. I am tired and stressed, as you would be if you’d been at home alone with two young children, one of whom is sick.” She managed to keep her voice down, despite her frustration.

  “What do you want me to do, Kate? I get away from work as soon as I can, but sometimes it’s not possible to walk away at five o’clock. I don’t have that luxury. I don’t do a normal job.”

  “It’s this damn Murder Squad. It’s too unpredictable. I never know when I’m going to see you. When the kids are going to see you. I can’t plan anything like normal people do. When was the last time we did anything as a family? When was the last time we had a decent holiday? When was the last time you helped bathe the kids, Sean? You know, I work too. Sometimes I need you to be here to help out.”

  “I want to be here,” he told her. “But I don’t know how I can make things easier. I don’t sell fucking shoes, Kate. I solve murders. I stop people who kill. I can’t do this job with one hand tied behind my back.”

  There was a silence before Kate replied, “Is that what we are to you, Mandy, Louise, and I? Some kind of handicap you’d be better off without?”

  “No. No,” he insisted. “That’s not what I meant. You know that’s not what I meant, but I need my mind to be clear if I’m going to have any chance of catching these people quickly. If I’m constantly worrying about getting home for bathtime or dinner, I can’t think properly. I can’t think the way I need to think. You and the kids have no place in that world, believe me.”

  “But you’re missing them, Sean. Before you know it, they’ll be leaving home and you won’t be able to get that time back. It’ll be gone.”

  “Do you want me to leave the police? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No,” she assured him. “That’s the last thing I want. Doing what you do makes you what you are. You need to be a cop. It’s a calling for you, not a job. But maybe it’s time to consider doing something else in the police. Something you can have more control over. Something more predictable. Get away from all this. . death.”

  “But it’s what I’m best at. Where I can do things no one else can.”

  “You’ve done your bit, Sean. You’ve given enough of yourself. No one is going to think less of you if you ask for a change.”

  Sean glanced at his watch and sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll start asking around to see what’s on offer, but it’ll take a while. They won’t let me go until they’ve found a replacement.”

  “I understand that,” she said. “And I don’t want you to rush into anything either. Just think about it. That’s all I ask.”

  CHAPTER 22

  None of it matters to me anymore. The police. My wife. My children. Staying here, in London. I always knew it would only be a matter of time before I had to move on, but it’s not quite come to that yet. There’s one more game to play.

  My target has been selected. Nothing can save them now. It will happen exactly as I have pictured it. But don’t feel sad for them; be sad I have not chosen you. Once my hand touches them, they’ll be more in death than they had ever been in life.

  The next will be the most difficult and therefore the best yet. It will be worth the risks. Besides, I’ve made allowances. The police are drinking from a mirage. I will let them fill their bellies with sand.

  I wish I could reveal myself to you. Let you share my secrets. Unfortunately I cannot. For the moment, all I can give you is the gift of my nature.

  I would like nothing better than to put my name to my work, but so few of you would be capable of understanding. You should sing my praises as a genius, but instead you would put me in a cage. How your psychiatrists and psychologists would like that. They could waste their time poking and prodding me. Would they tear up their textbooks when I tell them I had a happy childhood? That I never bit my classmates or tortured animals? Never killed the family cat and buried it in the woods?

  I don’t hear voices in my head. I won’t claim God ordered me to kill. I’m not a disciple of Satan. I don’t believe in either. I don’t hate you. You are simply nothing to me.
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br />   I scored well in my exams. Took part in school plays. Played hockey and cricket for my county. Was the favorite brother to my sisters, son to my mother and father. I went to a famous university and obtained a degree in accountancy. I was admired by my peers and respected by my tutors. I had several girlfriends, some serious, some not. I got drunk on Fridays and felt sick most Saturdays. I took my washing home for my mother once a fortnight. I was popular.

  None of it meant a thing.

  I’m not sure how old I was when I first felt it. Maybe five, maybe younger. I constantly checked the mirror. How could I look the same when clearly I was so different? I was both scared and exhilarated. So young to be absolutely alone. So young to be freed from the mediocrity and pointlessness of a normal life.

  Despite my age, I knew not to mention it to anyone. Not to talk to anyone about it. I had to bide my time. Fit in. Imitate those around me. I did very well in school, but was careful not to excel. Not to stand out.

  The years passed painfully slowly. Still I resisted the temptation to explore my growing strength. I waited patiently. I didn’t know when the time would come, only that it would.

  As I grew older, I continued to gather the trinkets of normal life. A job. A wife. A house. Children. They were my sheep’s clothing. My smiling mask. And all the while I was waiting.

  Then, a few months ago, I awoke. I looked in the mirror and knew the moment had arrived. To everyone else I seemed the same, but not to myself. A new creation stared back upon itself. At last.

  My first instinct was to slaughter my family, but I quickly realized I wasn’t strong enough yet. I had only just been born. I was still covered in Nature’s afterbirth. I still needed their protection. But with each visit I grow stronger and stronger. I become more complete, what I am meant to be: not a man, but a man above men. A different evolutionary strain of man. To you, almost a god.

  CHAPTER 23

  Friday

  Sean had kept the briefing quick and simple. They would drive from Peckham to Hellier’s house in Islington. Sean would arrest him. Sally would direct another search of the house. He knew the audience of bleary-eyed detectives wouldn’t be able to absorb much information at 6 A.M.-most looked like they’d opted for one last drink instead of stocking up on the most precious commodity to a detective: sleep. If they felt tired now, it would be worse for them later.

  Donnelly banged on the front door of Hellier’s Georgian town house. The thick black paint shimmered like water with each knock. Sean and Sally were right behind him. The rest of the arrest team stood farther back. No one expected Hellier to fight.

  James Hellier appeared in front of them. He was almost fully dressed and ready to leave for work. He looked good. Fit and strong. Immaculately groomed. He was casually threading a gold cuff link through his sleeve.

  Sean stepped forward, and before he spoke he could smell Hellier’s expensive cologne. It seemed to take Hellier a second to recognize him. When he did, he began to smile.

  Sean held his identification close to Hellier’s face. He didn’t back away.

  “James Hellier. I’m Detective Inspector Sean Corrigan; these other officers are with me.”

  “Please, Inspector,” Hellier cut in. “There’s no need for introductions here. I think we all know each other.”

  Sean wanted to hit him. If Hellier didn’t stop smiling, he thought he probably would. Instead he pushed him back into the house and spun him around to face the hallway wall. He could see Elizabeth Hellier coming down the stairs.

  “Who is it, James?” she called out. “What’s going on?” she asked, her panic growing.

  “Nothing to worry about, darling,” Hellier called up to her. “Just call Jonathon Templeman and tell him I’ve been arrested again.” He turned to Sean. “I am being arrested, aren’t I, Inspector?”

  Sean pulled Hellier’s arms behind his back and clipped a handcuff tightly round each of his wrists. “This time you’re mine,” Sean whispered into Hellier’s ear. He stepped back and spoke so everyone could hear, especially Hellier’s wife. “James Hellier, I’m arresting you for the murder of Linda Kotler.”

  Hellier was still smiling. “What?” He didn’t attempt to hide his disdain. “This is pathetic. I’ve never heard of the woman.”

  “You do not have to say anything unless you wish to.” Sean spoke over Hellier’s protests. “But it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.”

  “Tell me, Inspector,” Hellier was almost shouting, “are you going to arrest me for every crime you can’t solve?”

  “Anything you do say may be used as evidence,” Sean continued.

  Hellier craned his neck so he could see Sean over his right shoulder. “You’re a damn fool. You’ve got nothing on me.” His smiling face and sweet breath made Sean feel nauseous.

  “Who are you?” Sean asked him. “What the fuck are you?”

  Hellier’s grin only broadened. He spat the words into Sean’s face:

  “Fuck you.”

  Sean peered through the peephole into Hellier’s cell. The smug bastard was sitting bolt upright on his bed, as if in some kind of a trance. If only there were some way to find out what he was thinking. Sean moved away from the cell door and headed back to his office. He would interview Hellier when his solicitor arrived.

  He sauntered into the inquiry office. The team sensed his mood. It transferred to them. Sean had the upper hand now.

  “Any news from the lab, Stan?” Sean shouted across the office.

  “Three days for a DNA match, guv,” Stan called back. “Two, if we get lucky. They’ll need our suspect’s samples by midday if they’re to have any chance of doing it that fast, but it’ll only be an initial comparison, which won’t give us a definitive match. A full comparison and definitive match will take a week. Minimum.”

  “Not good enough,” Sean replied. “Call the lab back and tell them one in forty thousand isn’t good enough. I need better odds than that and I need them by this time tomorrow at the latest.”

  The phone in Sean’s office was ringing when he entered. He snatched it up. “DI Corrigan.”

  “Morning, sir. It’s DC Kelsey, from SO11 telephone subscribers’ checks. You left some coded numbers with me a while ago. I said I’d have a play with them.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, I worked out the code,” DC Kelsey said matter-of-factly. “It was relatively simple, but effective.”

  “Have you run the subscribers’ checks too?”

  “Yes. Some are overseas numbers, so we don’t have them back yet. I’ll e-mail what I have across to you. Be warned, there’s a fair few to go through.”

  “Thanks. And good job,” Sean said warmly. “Let me know when the overseas numbers come back.”

  “No problem.”

  “And thanks again.”

  Sally appeared at his office door. “Hellier’s attorney’s here,” she announced. “They’re in consultation.”

  “Good. When they’re ready, you can help me interview.” Sally made a show of checking her watch. “You need to be somewhere?” he asked.

  “As a matter of fact, I have a lunch appointment today. I was hoping Dave could do the interview with you.”

  “Lunch appointment?” Sean sounded surprised.

  “It’s not what you think. I’m supposed to be meeting Hellier’s boss, Sebastian Gibran. His idea. I can only assume he wants to discuss Hellier.”

  Sean studied her in silence for a while. “I’m not sure about this, Sally,” he said. “These people look after their own. I doubt he wants to help us. Unless he has some other motivation for meeting you.”

  “Such as?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I guess you never know your luck.”

  Again Sean studied her for a while. “Okay. Meet him. See what he has to say.”

  “There’s something else too,” Sally continued. “Remember the suspect Method Index turned up-Ste
fan Korsakov?”

  Sean shrugged his shoulders. He thought that little problem had been dealt with. “Yes.”

  “I’ve been trying to put it to bed, but it hasn’t been that easy.”

  “In what way?”

  “His conviction prints should be at the Yard, only they’re not.”

  “Borrowed?”

  “The original investigating officer told me the prison holding Korsakov had requested the prints, only I checked with them and they didn’t.”

  “So he’s lying to you. Any idea why?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Do you want to get Ethics and Standards involved?”

  “Maybe,” Sally answered. “But maybe we should start treating Korsakov as a viable suspect, until we know for sure he isn’t?”

  “Fine,” Sean agreed. “But if he does start looking like a reality, you tell me straightaway. Don’t go running off solo, trying to be Cagney without Lacey.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  Sally turned on her heels and headed out of the office. “By the way,” Sean called after her, “have a nice lunch.”

  Hellier and Templeman sat close together in the interview room that served as their private consultation room.

  “I need to be out of this fucking dungeon by six at the latest,” Hellier told him. “No excuses, Jonathon. You have to get me out.”

  “It’s difficult to make that promise,” Templeman answered nervously. “The police won’t tell me much. Until I know what they’ve got, I can’t be expected to judge our position.”

  “Our position?” Hellier asked. He put his hand on Templeman’s thigh and squeezed hard. Templeman winced. “No matter what, you’ll be walking out of here. It’s me they want to nail to the wall. Keep that in mind.”

  Hellier released his grip and gently laid a hand on Templeman’s shoulder. He knew the man was scared of him. “I know you’ll do your best.” He spoke softly. It only added to his menace.

  Templeman swallowed his fear and spoke. “Before we can even think about bail, we have to prepare for the interview. If they’ve rearrested you, they must have something. If you know what that could be, you need to tell me now. They want to start the interview as soon as they can, but they’re only telling me the minimum they’re legally obliged to. You have to help me to help you. We don’t want to walk into a trap. You should answer everything ‘No comment.’ ”