by Jack Probyn
After he’d successfully pinned her body to the floor, he slapped her across the face. He wanted her to be awake for this. He wanted her to witness everything he was going to do to her. With the others it had been over too quickly. He’d been afraid of losing them, of them escaping – and that had been an almost too close reality for him last night. But now was different. This was his own home, his own turf. He could do what he wanted. And nobody would know a thing.
CHAPTER 48
STRATEGY
Lester Bain. Lester Bain. Lester Bain. Jake repeated the name in his head. Their meeting with Sampson Decker had been a success. They finally had a name, a suspect, someone they could begin to investigate with vigour. And it hadn’t taken long for them to find something either. After a quick check on the electoral register, and a brief search online, Jake had managed to put together a suspectology report for Drew and Garrison.
‘He’s a successful property tycoon,’ Jake began, reading from a Stratford News article dated ten years ago. ‘A narcissistic one too, judging by the comments he gave in this piece. He inherited his parents’ business after their sudden death when he was twelve. They both perished in a car accident. I looked into and, at first, it didn’t seem like there was anything wrong about it. But after I did some digging, it turns out my suspicions were correct. The report says that neither of his parents were wearing seat belts at the time of the accident which, according to witness statements from family and friends, was extremely uncharacteristic of them.’
‘So little Lester unplugged them and watched them rocket through the windscreen?’
‘Potentially,’ Jake said. ‘But nothing was ever taken further with it. After their death, Lester went into foster care, where he dealt a lot with social services. They gave him some counselling and, when he was sixteen, one of his therapists made some disturbing reports. He tried to molest her, but in the end, nothing came of it. It was her word against his. But – and this is the interesting bit – Lester recounted several experiences where, as a child, his mum would abuse him – both physically and sexually – and his parents would take him to a caravan site in the middle of nowhere, just so they could do things to him.’
‘Now we know where he gets it from,’ Garrison added, hovering a biscuit above his lips.
‘What about his address?’ Drew asked, dismissing Garrison’s remark. ‘What about his properties? Have we got anything on those yet?’
Jake nodded. ‘He’s the registered landlord for eight properties. All are currently being let under his management.’
‘And his own address?’
Jake held a sheet of paper in the air triumphantly. ‘Right here.’
Drew clapped his hands together and leapt out of his seat. ‘Beautiful. Get a warrant together, get it approved by the magistrate and get some uniform with you.’
Jake beamed, filled with hubris. ‘Already done,’ he said. ‘Warrant’s drafted. I just need to get down to the courts.’
Drew moved to the centre of the Incident Room and scribbled the information on the whiteboard underneath Lester’s name at the top. A few seconds later, he turned back to Jake and Garrison.
‘I think we need to check out the other properties as well. Just in case,’ he said to Garrison.
‘I’m on it,’ the man said, rising out of his chair.
‘And what about you?’ Jake asked Drew as he hovered in the door frame.
‘I’m going to speak with Liam quickly. It’s all part of the strategy, boys.’
CHAPTER 49
CONTINGENCY PLANNING
No names. That was the mantra. No names, under any circumstances. None.
And, for Liam, he’d kept it that way. Elliot Bridger was none the wiser about any of his credentials. He prided himself on being able to keep a secret from those closest to him, and he was even prouder that he’d managed to work his way up through the ranks of The Cabal’s criminal underworld. The Cabal was a modern-day enigma, a new version of Voldemort – whose name must never be spoken aloud, especially in public. Partly because very few knew the name – not even those in the higher echelons who Liam had tried to cosy up with – and partly because anyone who did speak it usually found themselves six feet under shortly thereafter.
Liam was seated in the car park of Farnham Golf Club, following his meeting with Bridger. On the phone, in his ear, was that same enigma.
‘How did it go?’ The Cabal asked.
‘It’s done.’
‘Bridger’s aware of what he needs to do?’
‘Yes,’ Liam replied.
‘And Jake?’
‘Even more so.’
‘Is he a threat to our operations?’
Liam shuffled himself in his leather seat and turned the radio down until it was almost silent.
‘Jake Tanner’s no threat,’ he said. ‘He’s harmless. He’s just happy to be one of the team. He’s fresh, beady eyed and still thinks the service is the best in the world. But once he realises that it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, he’ll come round.’
‘And if you’re wrong?’
‘Then hit him where it hurts.’
‘And you know where that is?’
Liam suppressed a smile, even though there was no one in the vicinity to see it. ‘I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t.’ He paused. ‘Financials. He’s always struggled with it. His background in that respect makes for interesting reading.’
Of course there was Tanner’s family too – and his kids – but that was a step too far for Liam.
‘Don’t get attached, Liam,’ The Cabal said. ‘You remember what happened last time.’
‘I’m not. I won’t.’ Liam reached for the reusable plastic cup in the holder by his side. He took a sip and relished the sickly taste of the whiskey as it rushed down his throat. ‘It’s going to sound odd, but Jake Tanner has the power to make everything great. He has a lot of potential.’
‘Don’t romanticise him either,’ The Cabal said.
‘I’m not. And I’m not the only one who’s said it either. Bridger agrees. He thinks Jake has potential to go far.’
The Cabal paused. They were the kind of person who paused just to make the other person on the line nervous about what was to come next. And Liam hated every second of it.
‘How are we coming along with everything else?’ The Cabal continued.
‘Good.’ Liam nodded. ‘Shipments are coming in fine without delays. The runners are getting the stuff on the streets. And the boys at Flying Squad and Drugs Squad have been keeping me up to date with everything on their side.’
‘And what about Henry?’
‘Nothing I can’t handle,’ Liam said.
‘We’ll see.’ There was another pause. It was shorter than the first. ‘When can I expect The Crimsons to be operational?’
‘Friday,’ Liam responded. ‘They’re due out on Friday. Witness protection. Isaac’s in charge of it all. At best, we’re looking at a couple of months – wait for everything to blow over first. It’s too hot on them for now.’
‘And worst case?’
‘They open their mouths.’
‘Contingencies?’
‘Plenty. I know some people. I know some people who know some people. And they know even more people.’
‘Good. The last thing I want is Danny and Michael Cipriano – our biggest assets – getting their head filled with more air than it already is.’
‘I’ll see to it that doesn’t happen,’ Liam replied and rang off.
CHAPTER 50
EXCEPTION TO THE RULE
Opposite Jake was Lester Bain’s house. It was a small, semi-detached property on the corner of Widdin Street. It blended in well with the rest of the houses on the road, and to the untrained eye, looked normal. But there was nothing normal about it. That it housed one of the city’s most gruesome and notorious serial killers frightened Jake. How was it possible for Lester to blend in with society so easily? That he could just leave the house, slaughter a handful
of unsuspecting individuals and then slip back into normality as though it was nothing? The thought concerned him, and as he sat there waiting for the rest of the uniformed officers he’d requested to accompany him on the search and arrest to arrive, he tried to turn his thoughts into something else.
Excitement.
Anticipation.
Lester Bain was less than twenty metres away. He was within arm’s reach. Jake was just a few minutes away from arresting the bastard and adding some credibility and notoriety to his career. But he had to be careful in this situation. He couldn’t accept all the praise and recognition. It had been a team effort, and he hoped the rest of the team would realise that. With any luck, Liam might rescind the performance regulation notice.
Jake hoped.
Behind him, a police car pulled over. It was showtime.
Jake climbed out of the car, nodded at the uniformed officers, explained to them what was happening and then, like a small army, they hurried over to Lester’s house. There were ten of them in total, and at the back of the convoy, two officers carried a tool known as the Enforcer – a battering ram which was capable of hitting a door with more than three tonnes of pressure.
The search team filtered either side of the front door, giving the Enforcer a clean avenue. Two officers swung the ram in the air and smashed it into the door. It buckled after one swing. Jake and the rest of the officers filtered into the property, immediately spreading out. They were all under strict instructions to search for Lester Bain and any evidence they would be able to seize later on. But for now, Lester was the priority.
Jake waited in the middle of the hallway while he allowed the officers to conduct a full sweep of the house. Less than thirty seconds later, it was over.
‘No sign of him,’ one officer said.
‘He’s not upstairs,’ another added.
‘Nor down here, mate,’ a final one added. ‘We’re checking out the back now but it’s not looking likely.’
Jake sighed, dejected. Their one chance of finding him, their one chance of catching him unawares had been squandered.
Just as Jake was about to open his mouth, another officer appeared at the top of the stairs, interrupting him.
‘Jake, I think you’re going to want to see this. Are forensics coming down?’
‘No…’
‘They should be.’
Jake ordered someone in the vicinity to make the call and then politely forged his way through the officers in front of him. At the top of the landing, he followed the officer into a bedroom. At first he was hit with the smell of camomile wafting up his nose. And then he saw it.
The table dresser.
The jars.
The tongues.
The fingers.
‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ Jake said under his breath. He’d been right. Lester had kept mementos. He’d kept their body parts as symbols of his murders.
The sight of them formed a knot in Jake’s stomach and made him feel queasy. He turned his attention away from the dresser and focused on the rest of the room. At the tidiness of it all. The banality. The cleanliness.
Lester’s bed had been made perfectly, almost military-style. On the bedside table was a small lamp and a flower. On the floor was a pair of slippers with a sock resting in each of them. The walls were bare, painted in a dull cream colour, the windowsill was empty and the washing basket by the door was devoid of any contents. It was almost as if Lester hadn’t lived there for weeks. It stood out in stark contrast to Lester’s modus operandi, the messiness of his killings, the depravity of his soul. During university, Jake had learnt that a person’s bedroom was like looking through a window into their soul, but when it came to Lester Bain, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. In this particular instance, Lester was an exception to the rule.
And for some reason that scared Jake most of all.
CHAPTER 51
LISTENING IN
Jake, Drew and Garrison were huddled around Drew’s desk, hunched over a tiny laptop screen. In the intervening hours, Jake and the rest of the search team, along with help from the forensics squad, had conducted a detailed search of Lester Bain’s property, seizing the most valuable items pertinent to the outcome of the case – including the trophies on top of his dresser. While the forensics squad were conducting the rest of the search on the property, the items they’d already seized had been sent away for analysis, but it would be some time before they received the results.
Next on the agenda, though, was to find Lester Bain. Again. If he wasn’t at his house, then it sparked the question as to why. Had Sampson tipped him off? Had he seen the police cars outside his house and bolted? Jake didn’t know. None of them did. But fortunately for him, Drew had had an idea.
The three of them were listening to the live audio recordings from inside Sampson Decker’s flat in the specialist operations room on the second floor of the building.
‘Are you sure we should be doing this without…’ Jake began, remembering his discussion with Drew early. The thought that they’d illegally bugged Sampson Decker’s flat without the necessary warrants had been playing on his mind.
Without responding, Drew reached into his side drawer and handed Jake three pieces of paper stapled together.
‘There’s your warrant,’ Drew said. ‘Before you start to complain.’
Jake gasped slightly. He was offended by the insinuation. ‘Who said I was going to complain?’
‘That voice in your head. Now shut up and listen.’
Jake’s eyes skimmed over the top half of the intrusive surveillance warrant, noticed that it had been signed and dated correctly by Assistant Commissioner Richard Candy, and then returned his attention to the laptop.
Sound frequencies were displayed on the monitor, and every time Sampson coughed, the frequencies fluctuated and spiked.
‘What are we listening for?’ Jake asked.
‘Anything. Anything he might say to incriminate himself further. He might call Lester, or Lester might call him. And when that happens, we’ll be listening and recording every word they—’ Drew was instantly cut off by the sound of ringing coming from the computer.
‘Someone’s calling him,’ Jake said, feeling himself get caught up in the excitement of the situation.
The three of them waited in high anticipation for Sampson to answer the phone. Eventually he did. The sound was grainy and full of static but still audible. Drew scrambled across the desk for the mouse and pressed the record button.
‘You’ve done it again?’ Sampson asked, his voice quiet, almost like a whisper.
‘It was glorious,’ a voice said. This one was deep and gruff, heavy and exasperated – full of excitement and happiness. The complete opposite of Sampson’s.
‘How many?’
‘Two. A couple. Her name was Jessica. I couldn’t help myself. I hammered nails into her hands and fucked her while she was alive and bleeding. He was already dead by the time anything happened to her. It was her I wanted. I had to get the boyfriend out of the way first. But I did stuff with both of them, don’t worry.’
‘What did you do to him?’ Sampson asked. Jake wasn’t sure, but he thought there was a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice, as if Sampson was going to get off on what he heard.
‘Everything. His fingers were delightful. And the rest of him tasted delicious.’
There was a light groan coming from Sampson. Then it was a while before he responded.
‘Do you have the evidence?’
‘Of course.’
‘Send it to me.’
‘No. I want to negotiate first. How many points will you give me? Second place is only a few hundred behind me. This is unacceptable. I need double what I’ve had beforehand.’
‘Lester…’
‘Give me more points!’ Lester screamed.
‘A thousand,’ Sampson said. His breathing was becoming heavy, and with each breath it sounded wheezier and wheezier.
‘Two.’
‘You do that and perhaps I might have to come for your body. You’re lacking a few teeth, aren’t you?’
The knot formed in Jake’s stomach again, except this time it threw a little bile up his throat. He was experiencing the harsh brutality of the opposite end of the spectrum of human emotion and psyche for the first time, and he didn’t like it. He’d studied cases about people like Lester in university, but he felt safer reading about them in textbooks or watching documentaries. This was different. Jake was living it. Jake was experiencing it.
‘Fuck… you…’ Sampson worked himself into a cough. It was soft and weak.
‘Give me my two thousand points!’
‘Only if you promise to stop.’
‘Stop? I can’t stop now. I’ve got so much more I want to accomplish. You don’t know what it feels like. I won’t stop. I can’t stop.’
‘You need to,’ Sampson said.
‘Why?’ Lester asked. ‘What’s happened?’
‘The police. They’re after you. They came round… to my place earlier.’
‘What? No. What did you tell them?’
‘Nothing. I told them I didn’t know where you are. But you need to get out of the city. Out of the country. Lay low for a bit. Go off grid.’
‘No,’ Lester said, ‘I’m too far gone.’
The line went dead and the deafening sound of silence rung in Jake’s ears. He removed his headset and placed it on the table, then stared at Drew and Garrison. They looked angered. Worse, they wore an emotion he’d never seen on their faces before: fear. They were afraid of what Lester was going to do. They were afraid of how he’d managed to slaughter another two victims as though they were nothing but cattle; of how they were going to catch him before he struck again. Fuck, Jake was too. And he knew the fear wouldn’t leave him until Lester was caught.