by Helen Fields
They walked together to the overturned wheelchair. The corpse was on its side, face to the ground, one arm splayed. Even in the dark on the asphalt, the pool of blood beneath the victim was unmistakable. Connie didn’t need to see in colour. She could smell it.
‘Knife wound,’ Ailsa said, kneeling next to the body. ‘Single entry as far as I can see. Straight into the heart. There wouldn’t have been this much blood normally, but the knife dislodged when the victim fell from his chair, and the blade’s exit wound allowed a substantial amount of blood to spill as the heart was stopping.’ She picked up the blade. ‘Approximately a seven-inch blade, metal handle, sharp tip. Resembles a butcher’s knife. Delivered with substantial force to get through into the heart.’
‘He has other injuries, too,’ Connie said. ‘There was a fight first. If the assailant had the knife, why not use it straight away?’
‘I can identify three clear contusions plus cuts and grazes to the face. There’s swelling and some bleeding in patches, indicating that those injuries occurred before death. Perhaps the use of the weapon was a last resort. This gentleman’s been dead no more than an hour.’ She picked up each of his hands in turn. ‘Judging by the damage to his knuckles, I’d say he put up a remarkable defence.’
Pulling bags from her pocket, the pathologist slipped a trace evidence preservation cover over each hand and secured each around the wrist.
‘Ge’ the fu’ off me,’ a slurred voice projected from the far end of the alleyway.
‘Excuse me, Ailsa,’ Connie said, checking the lighting as she walked past the rear exit to the sports centre, noting the large bins and the darkened doorways on the other side of the street. Plenty of places for a man or woman to have stood waiting, unseen.
‘Would you calm down, sir? You’re not under arrest, but we need to get you to the station so we can take a full statement,’ a woman replied.
‘Nae going to no fuckin’ polis station, sod yous.’
‘We’ll get you a hot meal and as many cups of tea as you like, but it’s freezing out here now and this’ll take some time,’ the woman kept trying.
Connie could see him now, wrapped in layer upon layer of coats, blankets and a tatty sleeping bag, his face mottled from dirt, the cold and substance abuse.
‘I’m gettin’ going, me. That fuckin’ monster’ll be back, you bet on it.’ He leaned in close to the female officer. ‘He didn’t say a friggin’ word! Not a one. Just kept taking punches until he pulled out that knife and then slam. It was like he was doing no more than carvin’ a turkey. Didn’t even look at the poor bastard as he fell to the floor. You think I’m making a fuckin’ statement? I may be drunk, love, but I’m nae stupid. I dinnae want that demon after me. His fuckin’ face!’
‘What about his face?’ Connie interjected.
‘Ach, it was like a moon wi’ holes for eyes.’ He began picking up a collection of bags and rucksacks from around his feet.
‘How did the man not notice you?’ the officer asked.
‘Under cardboard. Can I get some money?’
‘You know I can’t give you money,’ the officer said gently. ‘But I can get you food. You just need to help us with—’
‘I’ll give you some money if you’ll look at a photo for me,’ Connie told him, typing into her phone.
‘Ma’am that’s not permissible,’ the officer told her.
‘I’m a contracted civilian, not police. The rules don’t apply to me.’ She took a twenty-pound note from her pocket. ‘One photo, but I want your honest reaction. No bullshit, okay?’
Connie held up her phone.
The man’s eyes widened. He took a step closer to the screen and peered at the image there. Stepping away, he raised a hand, swiping the mobile from Connie’s hand and sending it flying.
Grabbing him by the collar, Connie pulled him towards her.
‘Was that him?’ she asked.
He shrugged and muttered.
‘You want the money, you look at me and tell me if that picture looks like the man.’
‘Is he real? I thought maybe I’d imagined him, then I saw the blood,’ the man whispered.
‘He’s real,’ Connie said, thrusting the money at him. ‘Now, give the nice officer a statement and you can go.’
‘Ma’am, I need to see the photo so we know who we’re looking for,’ the officer said.
Connie held up her mobile.
‘What is that?’ the officer asked.
‘That …’ Connie sighed, ‘… is a character from a kid’s movie. Apparently, we’re looking for a goddamn cartoon.’
‘Better find him before he kills that other one, too,’ the man mumbled as he hid the twenty away inside his shoe.
Connie and the police officer turned in unison.
‘What did you say?’ Connie asked.
‘Other one. The one he took. Poor bastard. Dragged him backwards in his wheelchair.’
The officer was on her radio in a heartbeat. ‘All units, we have an active kidnapping situation …’
Connie waited for the uniformed police to gather the remaining details about the victim, then got Baarda on the mobile.
‘He’s done it again, and now I’m certain he took Meggy. I need you to get me some TV coverage straight away.’
‘Sightings of his car?’ Baarda asked.
‘Nothing. Small car park, no CCTV – he must have checked it out. It’s pretty dark around here and industrial, so no dwellings overlooking the car park. Probably why he kidnapped this victim from here rather than at his home, which is an assisted housing unit, so there’d be people there around the clock.’
‘Clever bastard,’ Baarda said. ‘One moment.’
Baarda began speaking on a radio. Connie listened in.
‘All units, be aware. There is a kidnapping in progress. The kidnapper is a single white male, who may be driving erratically. Sounds may be heard in the boot of a vehicle. Inform other agencies – include accessible undercover officers, paramedics, fire service. I want a stop-and-search on every major route out of the area. All cars with single male occupants to be stopped and searched over the next four hours.’
‘That’s a huge task,’ Connie said when he was back on the line with her.
‘What are our chances of success?’ Baarda asked.
‘Doesn’t help if I’m negative.’
‘I prefer honesty. Say what you’re thinking,’ Baarda said.
‘I think he’s very familiar with this city. He’s stalked his victims, so he’ll have staked out the places he planned to abduct them from. He’ll be taking a route he’s already checked out. Side roads, residential areas, even if it takes four or five times as long. We shouldn’t mistake desperation for stupidity.’
‘So what can I do? If he’s a step ahead of us every time, how do we catch him?’
‘Look for him in the places he’ll have to go when he’s not committing crimes. We have a photofit from Meggy’s kidnapping. Can you get it out to supermarkets – have it put up in staffrooms? Job centres and pharmacies as maybe he’s living on benefits – I doubt he’s working at the moment and the description of him sure makes him sound unwell.’
‘Good work,’ Baarda said. ‘I’m heading out to speak with Elspeth Dunwoody’s husband. He confirmed that in spite of their home address, he plays rugby out at the Liberton Club. Elspeth and the kids regularly went to watch him play at weekends.’
‘Relevance?’ Connie asked.
‘It’s a short walk from Inch Park. Just over Gilmerton Road, in fact. I may owe you an apology. Can you get a ride back to the station?’
‘I sure can, and fuck the apology,’ Connie said. ‘Go speak with Elspeth’s husband.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fergus had changed vehicles in a small private car park where he paid a monthly fee. There was no one on the gate in the city suburbs. He knew the combination to the lock and let himself in and out as needed. Cash payments up front. No formal paperwork. Having two cars gave him
some flexibilty. Shopping centre car parks were his other great love. They offered access to large areas where he could get from one major road to another, breaking the CCTV chain. Internet road maps were amazing these days. You could complete whole journeys without leaving home, refining your route, finding shortcuts, avoiding major junctions. Traffic lights were the bane of his existence. Far too many cameras these days.
He’d heard the sirens this time. Local radio stations were reporting long delays on certain roads. The roadblocks had gone up faster than he’d liked, but he hadn’t had to be so careful this time. Xavier was, after all, the last piece of the puzzle.
Fergus checked the hallway through the peepholes, upper then lower. Neither woman nor girl was anywhere to be seen. He banged the door hard and waited for them to appear as he’d taught Elspeth, far enough away that they couldn’t be planning anything nasty. They appeared slowly, heads hanging low, went to the far end of the flat, facing the wall, and put their hands on their heads. He unlocked and kicked open the door.
Xavier was a dead weight over his shoulder, but it didn’t bother him. He ate only for pleasure now. His body didn’t need the calories. The concerns over allergies and food poisoning that had plagued him for years were allayed. He couldn’t get sick. Nature had no more nasty surprises for him. Every morsel of food that passed his tongue was a new experience. He’d forgotten what it was to be carefree. He consumed what he wanted, threw it away after just a bite if it didn’t please him. His body clock might be ticking down towards a level of decomposition that would render it useless, but he had discovered an extraordinary truth beyond the inevitability of his rotting corpse. Death came with zero consequences.
He staggered into the sitting room, dumping the latest addition to his new family on the couch.
‘Get in here and meet Xavier,’ Fergus called to Elspeth and Meggy.
No response.
‘I said come here!’ he yelled. ‘You’re being rude. I did this for all of us.’
He stormed into the corridor. Elspeth and Meggy were stood, arms clutched around each other, red-eyed and whimpering. The woman had a strip of material wrapped around her hand. He stared at it a moment then shook his head. Her injury wasn’t his problem right now.
‘Move!’ he commanded.
Meggy turned her face into Elspeth’s shoulder and began to sob.
‘Boring.’
Reaching forward, he grabbed Elspeth’s wrist and began dragging her. Scrabbling with her feet, she protested, with Meggy pulling her other hand and screeching.
‘Please, no …’ Elspeth cried.
Something had changed. They hadn’t been like that before. Quiet, yes, but compliant. Perhaps they were hungry. He tried to remember when he’d last fed them, but time had become an eel in his brain, and he couldn’t get it in a straight line.
‘Do …’ he dragged her along, ‘what …’ another heave, ‘you’re …’ by then she was through the hallway into the lounge, ‘… told.’
Elspeth scrambled into the corner, quaking. Meggy stood in the hallway watching, shifting from one foot to the other, ready to bolt even if her options for where to go were limited. Fergus raised a slow arm and pointed to the male on the sofa.
‘That’s Xavier,’ Fergus said. ‘You have to look after him.’
Xavier pushed himself over to face them, his right eye a swollen mass.
‘Where is this?’ He rubbed the back of his head. ‘Who’s she?’
‘That’s my wife,’ Fergus said. ‘Pretty, isn’t she?’
‘What did you do to him?’ Meggy asked, appearing from the hallway and standing open-mouthed. She stepped closer to Xavier. ‘Why isn’t he getting up?’
‘Meggy, honey, calm down and come to me,’ Elspeth said.
The girl walked towards the sofa, one shaking hand outstretched.
‘Don’t make a fuss. You two should look after him. He’s my brother now.’
Fergus had chosen Xavier especially. There’d been an article about him and his wheelchair basketball team in a local paper, and Fergus had felt a surge of pride in Xavier’s determination and fighting spirit. He knew Xavier would be the sort of brother he could be proud of. There had been practical considerations as well as emotional ones. It didn’t work to have a brother who could play the hero. Fergus had made that mistake before, and it had almost ended in disaster. Xavier wasn’t going to be breaking down the flat door any time soon, especially without his wheelchair. Choosing a sibling with a physically limiting disease ticked every single box. That was why Xavier had been on Fergus’ radar for a long time now, longer even than Angela.
‘What happened to Angela?’ Fergus asked, staring at the wall with the painted window. In his mind, the curtains were blowing and birds were singing outside.
‘Who’s Angela?’ Elspeth asked.
‘You were supposed to be Angela,’ he told her. ‘She was perfect.’
‘Elspeth’s perfect,’ Meggy said. ‘Why isn’t that man getting up?’
‘His legs don’t work; don’t be rude about it. Xavier is very important to Daddy.’
Meggy glared at him. ‘You’re not my dad,’ she growled.
Elspeth was on her feet, striding between Fergus and the girl.
‘I don’t want to do this any more. I want to leave. He’s not my dad and he can’t make me say he is!’
‘Don’t get mad,’ Elspeth cooed at Fergus. ‘Meggy’s just upset. I’ll talk to her. I think that bringing someone else in just threw her off balance …’
Fergus took a single pace forward and shoved Elspeth sideways. She flew into the wall, smashing her head against the painting of the window. Its glass panes cracked in his mind.
‘You killed my friend, Danny,’ Xavier said. ‘Why did you do that?’
‘Forget about it,’ Fergus declared. ‘There is no Danny any more. I carried you up all those stairs, didn’t I? I brought you into my home. You were alone before. There was no one to look after you. Now you’ll have company all the time. My wife and my daughter will look after you, and I’ll visit. I wish you’d been at the wedding. You’d have been my best man. Imagine the speech you’d have made. Elspeth looked beautiful. But there’s still time. We’ll …’
Fergus shook his head. Everything was fuzzy inside his brain. Suddenly he couldn’t remember why they were all there.
‘You look tired,’ Elspeth said. ‘It must have been exhausting carrying Xavier up the stairs. Why don’t you go for a rest? You’ve earned it.’
‘I am tired,’ Fergus said.
He smiled at her tenderly, taking her in his arms and leaning against her. Elspeth put her arms around him and rubbed his back softly. That was nice. It was something his mother might have done. ‘You’re just as good as Angela. Better, even. Do you like remembering our wedding day? I wish our families could have been there.’
‘I do,’ Elspeth smiled. ‘I think about it all the time. It was …’ She paused, swallowing hard.
It was wonderful to see her so emotional, he thought. It was so good that she felt the same way he did.
‘… magical.’
‘I should bring you more food. I hadn’t even thought about that!’ He slammed the palm of his hand into his forehead and Elspeth took a half step away. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid me.’
‘You’ve had a lot on your mind, and we still have plenty of biscuits, cheese and tinned fruit from the last supplies you brought. Worry about that tomorrow. How about I make Xavier comfortable, and you bring us supplies in the morning. We’ll have the flat all tidied up by then, won’t we, Meggy?’
The girl folded her arms and glared at the floor.
‘Someone’s hormonal. You do what your mother tells you, young lady,’ Fergus chided.
‘What the fuck is going on here?’ Xavier panted.
Elspeth put her arms around Fergus’ shoulder again and gave him a brief tight hug. ‘I think everyone’s overtired. Bedtime for us.’
‘Thank you,’ Fergus said. ‘You’re doing a
good job.’
‘Thank you,’ she replied.
‘He killed Danny,’ Xavier repeated. ‘He’s insane!’
‘Nonsense,’ Elspeth said. ‘Fergus was just doing what needed to be done, isn’t that right?’
‘It is,’ Fergus said. ‘I was just keeping my family together. Everyone needs a family.’
‘Absolutely,’ Elspeth said, pulling him gently towards the front door of the flat then standing back to let him exit. ‘We’ll see you tomorrow. Fresh milk would be good. I expect Xavier’ll be wanting a cup of tea by then.’
‘Fresh milk,’ Fergus said, locking the door behind himself.
It was all working out fine. He remembered what he was doing now. He had a wife who loved him. A daughter who might need to be taught a lesson if she didn’t buck up her ideas, but wasn’t that the way with children? Now his brother was home too, and he’d be grateful to have been saved from his lonely existence.
He plodded down the stairs towards his bedroom. Sleep was, apparently, the only thing his corpse required to the same extent that his living body had.
‘Soon, we can all leave together. One big happy family, forever.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Normal profile categories don’t apply,’ Connie told the audience of stony faces. ‘That’s because he doesn’t have a standard motivation for killing or kidnapping. With each offence, our offender has grown bolder and less afraid. His appearances are increasingly public. We now know that the dead man found at the rear of the sports centre had intervened only once the abduction attempt had begun. Xavier Coghill is missing. That leaves us attempting to profile a man who has killed one adult female and is currently holding a woman, a female child, and an adult male hostage.’
Connie looked around the incident room. Every police officer not out on active duty was gathered. They were tense, frustrated, and reaching boiling point. Law enforcement professionals gathered with a single aim became a pack. Their mentality changed. They became less rational and reasonable. They also disliked listening, craving action and resolution. She felt the same, only traditional police work – knocking doors and watching CCTV – wasn’t working.