‘Shit,’ he mumbled.
Marnie looked at her boss, she could see the concern etched onto his angular features.
Outside, it started to rain.
4
Big Jimmy Rae was steaming mad and that meant trouble for someone, he’d spent the last hour trying to get in touch with Tam Whitlow and Tam wasn’t answering his phone.
Kane Acton watched nervously as Rae jabbed a thick finger at the phone. ‘I told that useless bastard to be here by six and now look at the frigging time.’
Acton sat on the sofa, lips sealed, arms folded as his boss fumed.
Rae paced back and forth in front of the huge, open fireplace, his face ruddy with anger, huge hands opening and closing in mounting fury, his brown hair standing on end from where he had pushed his hands through in aggravation. ‘I bet he’s been shagging that bird from the Bull again when he should be here.’
Acton felt the corner of his lips curl in the beginnings of a grin, and then he slapped his poker face back into place. ‘We’ll be all right, Jimmy, we don’t need Tam to sort this.’
Rae glanced across the room, his face still locked in a scowl, his dark eyes flaring in anger. ‘I know we can manage but that’s not the point, I told him to be here and he’s fucking me about.’
‘I …’
‘Get your coat on, we can call at the Bull on our way across town, I want to see his bastard face when I slap him awake.’
Acton climbed to his feet and stretched his arms towards the ceiling, his mouth opening wide in a yawn.
‘Boring you, am I?’ Rae snarled.
Acton lowered his arms slowly. ‘Sorry, Jimmy, bit of a late one last night.’
‘Jesus, you’re all as bad as one another, I’m trying to run a business here-I never fucking sleep-and all you lot do is take the piss and swan about as if you don’t give a toss!’
Acton frowned but kept quiet.
‘Arsehole!’ Rae yanked the car keys from his pocket and stormed across the room.
With a heavy sigh Acton followed, it was going to be a long night, he knew Jimmy was looking for someone to unload on, he just hoped it would be Tam who bore the brunt of his burning anger and not him.
By the time he made it outside, Rae was behind the wheel of the BMW, his eyes glaring as Acton closed the front door and hurried over to the car.
‘Come on, man, shift yourself!’
Before he could clip the seat belt into place, Rae had planted his foot to the floor, the big car tore down the drive, gravel spitting from spinning rubber.
5
The man let himself into the house, closed the door and looked around the empty room. The small space was devoid of furniture; no television or sofa, the floor bare, black, asphalt.
Closing his eyes, he pictured a familiar scene from the past, his mother bustling about, the drone of the hoover battling against the television, his father sighing heavily as he tried to watch the big match. His sister running down the stairs – complaining that she had nothing to wear and her boyfriend would be here any minute to pick her up for a night on the town. When he opened his eyes and saw the blank room he frowned, those days were long gone, all that remained were empty rooms heavy with dust and the obligatory scattering of mouse droppings on the floor.
He was halfway up the stairs when the creaking floorboard brought him to a halt, the memories flooding back again, he pictured his younger self avoiding the creaking step as he sneaked out of the house to go early morning fishing with his mates.
Shaking his head ruefully, he reached the landing and entered his old bedroom.
He remembered a time when he had been happy here, before he grew up and left this town in an effort to make his mark in the world. Back then the bed had been under the window, the walls plastered with teenage posters of planes and tanks. Untying the laces of his boots, he slipped them off and placed them by the rolled-up sleeping bag. Fumbling the tobacco pouch from his pocket, he rolled a cigarette, opened the rucksack and pulled out the letters.
He began to read, the smoke trailing into the stale air, his eyes moving left and right, his face hardening as he read the familiar words. Two minutes later, he had finished the cigarette; he stripped naked, unrolled the sleeping bag and climbed in.
Within minutes, he was asleep, his face etched deep with anger.
6
Marnie watched the black Transit, containing the dismembered body, turn around on the car park of the derelict factory, Doc Kelly in the passenger seat. He smiled and waved at Marnie as the van drove through the open gates and turned left.
A moment later, DCI Reese appeared from the factory entrance and walked over towards her car, opening the passenger door he climbed in and rubbed at his tired eyes.
‘Kelly’s going to start the autopsy as soon as he gets to the hospital, so I reckon we give him a couple of hours and then head up there-see what he comes up with.’
‘No problem.’
‘Have you had any more thoughts about this?’ he asked, sliding the window down and letting cool air drift into the vehicle.
Marnie paused for a moment before replying, ‘This place is out in the middle of nowhere, so it seems likely that it’s a local involved or someone who knows the area well. There are no road signs to lead anyone here, and this factory has been empty for years,’ she explained.
Reese nodded in understanding. ‘Ideal place to hold someone captive, little chance of being disturbed and no one around to hear them scream.’
Marnie rested a hand on the wheel, her eyes thoughtful. ‘It could be drug related,’ she offered.
‘If it is then it won’t end here.’
She grimaced at the thought. ‘So, what do you want to do?’
Reese checked his watch. ‘Pointless heading back to the station, what do you say we make our way to the hospital and I treat you to a meal from the all-night cafeteria?’
Marnie thought of the body tied to the chair, the floor coated with blood and gore, the white bone shining through the red. The smell of raw meat that hung heavy in the stifled air. ‘I could manage a salad, I guess.’
Reese smiled knowingly. ‘OK then, I’ll follow you,’ he pushed the door open and climbed out.
Thirty seconds later, Marnie drove across the car park, the DCI following closely behind, his headlights blinding in the rear-view mirror. Wincing, Marnie slapped it to one side and grabbed second gear, her own headlights spearing out into the darkness, the familiar uneasy feeling seeping into her brain followed by the faint rumble of thunder.
A bad omen.
7
‘I knew it,’ Rae snarled, as he pulled up behind Tam Whitlow’s red Jaguar. ‘I’m gonna break his nose when I get my hands on him.’ Thrusting open the door, he leapt out, by the time Acton had removed the seat belt Rae had slammed his boot into the driver’s door of Tam’s car.
Acton winced as the side panel crumpled and then the big man was storming across the car park of the Bull. Acton set off in pursuit.
They reached the door of the pub just as it opened and two lads barrelled out, laughing and joking with one another, oblivious to the man who stood blocking their path.
The one on the right bumped into Rae and then grinned, his eyes swimming in booze. ‘Hey, watch where you’re going, old man,’ he quipped.
His friend blinked at the man in the doorway and any sign of joviality left his face as he recognised Rae.
‘Shut it, Donny!’ he hissed, trying to grab his arm and drag him to one side.
Trouble was, Donny had been on the sauce since early morning after a big win on the horses and he was having trouble standing up let alone focusing on the man in front of him.
‘What did you say?’ Rae demanded, his face flooding with colour as Donny swayed before him.
‘I said, “watch where you’re going”, you old wanker,’ the kid giggled and burped a cloud of beer fumes into the darkness.
Rae lunged forward and slammed his forehead into the bridge of Donny’s nose.<
br />
The kid staggered back into the door, his friend leapt to one side while Acton watched with dispassionate eyes as the lad’s nose crumpled, spewing blood down his chin.
As he started to slide down the door, Rae grabbed the front of his jacket and spun him out onto the car park, slamming a fist into the remains of his nose – Donny screamed before slamming heavily to the floor.
‘Please, Mr Rae, Donny didn’t mean any harm, he’s just pissed and …’
Rae glared at the lad who closed his mouth, backing away with arms raised.
Then watched fearfully as a heavy boot slammed his boot into Donny’s ribs.
‘I’m thirty fucking eight, not an old man!’ Rae yelled, turning and striding into the pub.
Acton looked at the boy on the floor, his face a mangled mess; when Donny coughed, a tooth shot from his mouth, Acton shook his head before following his boss into the pub.
Thankfully, the place was devoid of punters, the interior gloomy and heady with the whiff of beer fumes, the gelatinous carpet beneath their feet newly-laid twenty years ago. The woman behind the bar looked up when Rae stalked towards her.
‘Where’s Tam?’ he demanded.
She looked nervous as Rae loomed towards her, his forehead had a red mark in the centre, dark eyes brittle with fury.
‘I haven’t seen Tam since last night, he …’
‘Bloody liar!’ Rae barked.
Acton hung back, hands clasped in front of him as he gave the empty pub the once over.
‘Honest, Jimmy, I haven’t seen …’
‘His car is parked outside this shithole and you’re telling me the twat isn’t here?’
Rosa McCloud licked her garish lips, watching Rae fume with anger. ‘He was in last night, but he left about seven, I figured he must have left the car and got a taxi because he’d had a few,’ the words tripped over one another as she hurriedly tried to explain.
Rae narrowed his eyes in suspicion, then he moved over to the flap on the bar. Walking through, he barged the woman to one side and headed for a door on the right.
Rosa looked at Acton, her eyes wide in shock.
‘Don’t worry, Rosa, if you’re telling the truth then you have nothing to worry about.’
‘Jesus, I don’t tell lies, I have no interest in Tam bloody Whitlow, and if he says different then he’s full of shit,’ she spat in return.
Acton lifted his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, he could hear his boss thundering up the stairs to the living quarters above.
Grabbing a glass Rosa thrust it under the optic, downing the gin in one swallow.
Doors banged and then more thuds as Rae came back down the stairs.
When he arrived behind the bar he still looked furious, his mouth twisted in a grimace, his eyes hard and unflinching.
‘Come on, we’re going,’ he snarled, heading to the right side of the bar.
Rosa shook her head and stood, hands on hips, ready to shout some barbed comment as the two men headed for the exit.
By the time she thought of one, the door had banged closed.
‘Bloody charming,’ she muttered, helping herself to another drink to steady her nerves.
8
Marnie looked down at the remains, glad now that she had opted for the salad rather than anything more substantial.
Doc Kelly stood at the head of the metal gurney, his bloodied hands, encased in latex, were planted either side of the dead man’s shoulders. ‘I’ve had blood and tissue samples sent off to the lab for analysis but you can see the body is unmarked, though there are minor abrasions to each knee.’
‘Meaning?’ Reese asked.
Kelly pulled a face in concentration. ‘Well, I assume at some stage the man would have been subdued to make him easier to handle, so perhaps he was clubbed and fell to his knees-that would explain the broken skin. Though of course, with the head missing, it’s impossible to be exact.’
Marnie nodded in understanding as she looked down at the pale, naked body; fragments of bone shone at the ankles, the neck had been sliced cleanly leaving a red, raw stump of gore.
‘Time of death has been difficult to pin down due to the huge loss of blood, though I still think it was in the last twelve to twenty-four hours.’
Reese slipped his hands into his pockets. ‘Anything else?’
‘Well, I’d say the man was aged in his mid- to late thirties and he either had a manual job or he spent time at the gym, muscle tone is good, heart and lungs seem OK. There are a few old scars but nothing major. Of course, if the hands were still attached they could provide further insight but that’s about as much as I can tell you for now.’
Marnie sighed, it wasn’t much to go on, and she had a feeling that the clock was already ticking on this one.
‘However, our mystery man does have a tattoo although, it’s not what you’d call a work of art,’ moving left, he eased the body onto its side and pointed down at the lightning bolt in the small of the man’s back. It ran for about six inches, an unimpressive zig-zag of faded grey ink.
Marnie took hold of her ponytail and gave it a slight tug as she looked down at what passed for body art in Kirkhead.
Then Kelly rolled the body onto its back, covered it back up and pushed the trolley into the fridge, closing the door with a clack. Ripping off the latex gloves he dropped them into a flip-top bin with a flourish.
‘First thing in the morning, I want you to check the tattoo parlours in town, see if anyone can point us in the right direction,’ Reese said.
‘No problem,’ Marnie replied, as Kelly wandered over to the steel sink and began to wash his hands.
‘Oh, by the way, our man had eaten chicken burger and chips a few hours before he died,’ he commented over his shoulder, wiping his hands on a roll of blue towelling.
‘Burger King or McDonald’s?’ Marnie asked with a slight smile.
‘Neither, these weren’t French fries, at a guess I’d say they were chunky oven chips,’ he replied with a wide grin.
Marnie shook her head as Kelly slipped out of the lab coat and hung it on a peg.
‘Right, thanks, Doc, we appreciate the effort,’ Reese said, as the three of them headed for the door.
Swiping a card through the slot, Kelly stood back to let them out before clicking off the lights and pulling the door closed behind them.
‘Is the canteen still open?’ the doctor inquired as they moved down the corridor.
‘Don’t tell me you’re hungry after that?’ Marnie shivered.
The doctor looked at her nonplussed.
‘I’m not hungry, sergeant, I’m bloody starving,’ he rubbed his hands together. ‘I could eat a horse between two bread vans.’
‘Animal,’ Reese said as they pushed through a set of double doors.
9
Rae slammed Marlon hard against the wall, the two drug-thin girls grabbed each other and screamed.
Acton closed the door of the pokey flat and looked around the room, the girls appeared to be in their late teens, both had been sitting on the sofa as Rae stormed into the room. Now they were huddled together, their faces twitching with fear, watching as Rae thrust his fist under Marlon’s chin.
‘When Stevie Harrow called around for the takings yesterday you handed him three hundred quid-right?’
Marlon tried to nod but the fist at his throat made it impossible. ‘Yeah, yeah, Jimmy, three hundred dabs, he …’
‘Are you trying to tell me that in one week these two only pulled three hundred quid’s worth of tricks?’
The girls started to shiver, their young faces ravaged with abuse and addiction, their eyes wide with fear.
‘Come on, Jimmy, it’s been quiet, I can’t force the punters to come knocking at the door, times are hard and …’
‘Listen to me, you little shit, I’ve been having this place watched, and in the last five days thirty punters have entered this flat, and at thirty quid a go that’s nine hundred and yet you hand three over, so how do you expl
ain that?’ Rae snarled.
Marlon Carlson felt his stomach plummet as he did the maths.
‘Half of them didn’t want to pay thirty, Jimmy, they said there’s a place over in Grafton that only charge a tenner a trick.’
Rae slammed Marlon’s head back and he yelped as his head left a dent in the plasterboard wall.
‘Fucking Grafton!?’
‘I tried telling them your girls are clean but you know what the blokes around here are like, they’re not bothered about getting a dose if it saves them a few quid to blow at the pub or on the horses.’
‘So, who’s running this stable?’ Rae demanded.
‘I don’t know, Jimmy, honest to God, mate, I don’t know.’
Rae stepped back, Marlon breathed a sigh of relief – then Rae lashed out and smashed his fist against Marlon’s cheek.
The girls squealed, clinging to one another tighter than ever as Marlon crumpled to the floor.
Rae crouched down on his haunches, Marlon’s eyes fluttered trying to ward off the darkness that threatened to swamp him.
‘As soon as you got wind of this you should have picked up the fucking phone and called me.’
Marlon managed to nod in agreement.
Standing back up, Rae turned and studied the girls on the sofa with disdain. ‘Look at the state of you two, go and get some slap on – you look like shit.’
The girls nodded in unison and then they were dashing for the door.
Rae sighed as Marlon touched a finger to his bruised cheek.
‘Fucking slags!’ Rae sneered as he stormed from the flat.
Acton turned and followed, Jimmy needed to calm down, at this rate he would end up having a heart attack, he thought with a crooked smile.
Cut The Threads: A Serial Killer Thriller That Will Keep You Hooked (DS Marnie Hammond Book 2) Page 3