Body Heat

by Candy Denman

  Kate sighed her agreement that this was probably the case, and they drank in silence for a moment or two.

  “Mind you, you would think a psychologist would be able to make his relationships work, wouldn’t you?”

  “Possibly, although−”

  “Maybe it’s because they are all a bit mad,” Kate interrupted.

  “That’s simply not true,” Callie chastised her friend gently. “A few, maybe, but not all.”

  “It makes you want to find out why though, doesn’t it? See if there are any salacious details?”

  “Like what?”

  “Is he into dressing up in women’s clothing, or is he an obsessive compulsive who organises his sock drawer by colour?”

  “It’s more likely that his wife just realised he’s a jumped-up little twerp who has a chip on his shoulder about not being a proper doctor.”

  “Miaow!” They laughed together until Callie felt guilty.

  “Actually, he’s not that bad. He has been very helpful with Mark once I managed to get him to take notice and stop blaming me.”

  Kate sighed.

  “One day, Callie, you are going to be able to say something truly horrible about someone who deserves it, without feeling guilty.” Kate shook her head knowing that it would never really happen.

  * * *

  Later that night as Callie watched television, her mind wandered and she thought more about Adrian Lambourne and, in particular, Jayne’s difficulty in getting hold of his wife. She wondered if Jayne had been successful in door-stepping her as she wasn’t returning calls. Perhaps she was away? If so, how else could Jayne get the information she needed? Callie had an old classmate from medical school, who worked as a psychiatrist in the local NHS trust where Lambourne also spent some of his time. Perhaps he would be a good source of information. Before she had a chance to change her mind, she called his office number and left a message, asking him to give her a ring when he had a chance.

  * * *

  He smiled to himself as he put down his latest pay-as-you-go mobile phone. He knew the police had worked out that he met his victims through the website, and since a link with dating websites had been hinted at on the news, even though they had been careful not to mention SusSEXtra specifically, presumably mindful of a potential legal case if they did, people were bound to be more careful. It was lucky that he had a number of women already prepared and communicating with him offline. He’d even made a joke about being the killer, so they better beware. There was always one who thought if he brought it up it couldn’t be him, that it could never happen to them, and he had just set up a meeting with that one for tonight. He was sure she would turn up because she was stupid. Judging by her messages she was barely able to read or write and seemed desperate for sex. Anything to make her feel loved or at least wanted, and he wanted her, he really wanted her. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to waste too much time talking to her first.

  Chapter 23

  The rain was lashing down by the time Callie arrived at the farm track that she had been told was the easiest way to the crime scene. She knew from her previous walks across the cliffs that the track led to a farm and from there to an unofficial, and often impassable, route down to Fairlight Cove where there was a naturist beach.

  Callie parked her car at the top of the track as instructed by a cold, wet and miserable-looking constable who was trying to ignore the water dripping steadily off the peak of his uniform cap, and walked the rest of the way on foot. As she picked her way along the rutted track, she passed a field that was used as a campsite in the summer but was empty now. She could see the farmhouse beyond the field, with lights ablaze. She imagined that they must have seen the flames and alerted the emergency services. Callie shivered as an ice-cold trickle of rain ran down her neck. She hadn’t bothered with an umbrella as she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to take it into the crime scene, so she pulled the hood of her cagoule up and tightened the cord in an attempt to stop the rain getting inside. She hoped they had at least managed to set up a dry-ish area for her to change into her coverall suit, or else she would be soaked through in no time at all.

  She stumbled slightly on the uneven track and wondered if she should have brought a torch, but once she rounded the final corner there was light from the headlamps and the blue flashing lights of the fire truck and police cars that were already at the scene. She could see a lone figure in a crime scene suit standing and watching the fire crew check the burnt-out car and realised it was Miller.

  He turned as she suited up, trying to keep herself as dry as possible, but finally giving up because it was a fight she just wasn’t going to win.

  “Sorry to get you out on a night like this.”

  “I’d completely forgotten that it was a Wednesday night.”

  “I know,” Miller said. “I’d thought, with all the publicity around the killings and the dating website, no one would be so stupid−” He shook his head in frustration.

  “Yes. It does make you wonder, doesn’t it?”

  “He must be a real charmer.”

  “Speaking of which, no Sergeant Jeffries?” she asked, looking round as if expecting him to pop out from behind a bush.

  “Not yet,” he replied, continuing briskly. “He’s on his way. It’s pretty much the same as the previous scenes, we just need you to confirm life extinct once the firemen say it’s safe for you to do so. I’ll go and talk to them.” He walked off in the direction of the fire appliance.

  “Hi, Dr Hughes.” A voice startled her as she hadn’t been aware anyone else was there. Callie turned and saw a figure in a protective suit and mask that pretty much could have been anyone.

  “It’s me, DS Hales. Jayne,” the voice said helpfully, much to Callie’s relief.

  “Oh, hi. Do we know anything about this one?” Callie nodded at the still smouldering car.

  “No, not yet. The fire bods won’t let us get anywhere near until they’ve finished. I would have said I hope they hurry up, but I am so wet now that it won’t make any difference how long they take.”

  “I know how you feel,” Callie replied. “I’ll be straight in a hot shower when I get back.”

  They stood and waited in companionable silence.

  “Did you manage to get hold of Mrs Lambourne?” Callie asked after a while.

  “No, she seems to have gone away on a cruise around the Med. I’ll try and contact the cruise line later, once I have confirmed which one it is, see if they can get a message to her, but to be fair, it might have to wait until she gets back.”

  “I’ve contacted an old friend who might know them, just to see if there’s any gossip. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “Cheers, Dr Hughes, that would be great.”

  They watched the crime scene team rig some lights up for a few moments before Jayne turned to Callie again. “We, um checked up on your Dr Brown as well, and he has a pretty good alibi.”

  “Oh yes?”

  “You didn’t hear this from me, right?”

  Callie nodded, trying to appear indifferent when she was, in reality, all ears.

  “Seems that as a condition of his GMC hearing he has to attend a sex addiction clinic. Group therapy every Wednesday and Saturday nights.”

  “But they can’t go on very late?” Callie couldn’t see how it was an alibi.

  “Yes, but he goes home with one of the other patients afterwards and spends the night with her.”

  “Nice to know the therapy is working,” Callie said and Jayne giggled.

  “Well, the clinic know about it now, because of the questions we were asking, rather than because we actually told them…”

  Callie was quite sure that wasn’t true, she could imagine Sergeant Jeffries taking great pleasure in telling the psychotherapist in charge of the sex addiction clinic just how well the therapy was working.

  “…and it’s up to them whether or not they report him to the GMC.”

  “Oh, heavens,” Callie hadn’t though
t of that. Her life wasn’t going to get any easier if Gerry Brown was suspended for breaking the conditions of his continued working.

  Suddenly the scene was bathed in bright light as the floodlights were switched on, making the headlights and blue flashing lights seem pale in comparison to the fierce illumination that now bathed the scene.

  “Also, Nigel checked the clinic where Dr Lambourne worked and the receptionist confirmed that he doesn’t allow patients to take food or drink in with them,” Jayne continued. “Something to do with an incident in the past when a patient assaulted him with an item of food.”

  “Nothing too soft, I hope?”

  “A banana, apparently.”

  Neither could suppress a giggle as they thought about that. Callie wished that Jayne was around at more crime scenes, because not only was she a fantastic source of information, she managed to take Callie’s mind off the grisly reason for her being there.

  “Look.” Jayne pointed to a helmeted fireman who was beckoning them forward. “I think it’s okay for you to go and check the body now.”

  * * *

  Later, once Callie had managed to warm up and dry out at home, she sat in her fluffy towelling dressing gown and sipped a cup of hot milk. It was four in the morning but the thought of another poor woman burnt to death was enough to prevent her from sleeping. That and the smell. She had showered and washed her hair, even squeezing some fresh lemon juice into the final rinse, a trick a colleague had once shared, but the smell seemed to remain. She knew it was because microscopic particles were probably caught in the hairs of her nasal passages, but even though she had tried snorting some water up her nose, the smell persisted. So she sprayed some more perfume on her wrist and breathed it in, deeply, hoping to displace the foul-smelling particles with new, nicer ones.

  Before she had left the crime scene, before dawn had even begun to break, Miller had asked her if she would be free to be with Mark so that he could ask the boy more questions and she had agreed to meet him at Mark’s house at eight. Callie switched the television on to a 24-hour news programme and turned the sound down low, so that the voices were little more than murmurs. The news of the fourth murder didn’t seem to have reached the press yet. With lights off, and only the flickering of the screen as background, she closed her eyes and finally drifted off to sleep.

  * * *

  Callie was woken by the ringing of her mobile and it took her a few moments to register what the noise was, and why she was asleep on her sofa. She grabbed the phone but had just missed the call. She could see from the display that it was seven o’clock and the call was from the friend she had contacted for gossip about Adrian Lambourne, so she rang back immediately.

  “Hi Johnny? It’s Callie, sorry I didn’t get to the phone in time,” she said.

  “No problem, I left a message in case you were in the shower or something. Sorry to call so early, but I’ve a full day ahead. It’s been such a long time since I last heard from you, much too long.”

  “I know, I know. I’ve been really busy.” Callie didn’t point out the obvious fact that it wasn’t just down to her. He could just as easily have called. “Look, I need to ask you something.”

  “Of course. How can I help?”

  “I was hoping you were still as much of a gossip as you always were, Johnny.”

  “I think that’s slanderous, Dr Hughes. I’ll have you know I never gossip. I simply pass on information about my colleagues in the interest of freedom of information.”

  Callie had forgotten how much she enjoyed talking to Johnny with his particularly bitchy style of gossip and resolved to meet up with him soon, but she would have to make sure she never gave him any personal ammunition as she would hate to be the subject of his conversations with others. She was tempted to ask if he knew about her recent disastrous affair with a consultant at the general hospital, but she was sure he would have done and didn’t want to hear his take on it.

  “Listen, I wondered if you had heard anything about Adrian Lambourne’s divorce?”

  “Please, tell me you are not interested in him, Callie? The man goes around with a face like a slapped arse.”

  “No, no,” Callie hastily reassured him, “it was just something I’d heard that might have influenced some decision he has made recently.”

  “Thank goodness for that. For a moment there, I thought the world had stopped turning. I couldn’t imagine a more unsuitable boyfriend for you, than our Dr Lambourne. If you are on the hunt, I could name a dozen more suitable candidates and even put in a good word for you, if you wanted?”

  “No, thank you,” Callie said, remembering previous men Johnny had set her up with. “I really do just want to hear about Adrian’s divorce for work reasons, nothing personal.”

  “Well, yes, you do have to feel sorry for the man.”

  “Do you? Why?”

  “His wife felt neglected because he worked too hard, poor lamb, so she took her revenge by sleeping around, mainly with his patients, including some of his private ones, and a smattering of his colleagues as well.”

  “I can see that would be upsetting.”

  “Upsetting? The man didn’t just lose his dignity, he lost most of his income once it all came out. He must have been absolutely, fucking livid, excuse the bad language. I know you’re not a fan, but I would have been beside myself with anger if anyone had done that to me.”

  “Right, yes, it does explain a lot.”

  “I mean, he’s had therapy and he says he’s put it behind him, moved on and everything, but I’m not sure I could. Could you?”

  Callie thought about some of her past boyfriends and in particular the doctor she most recently fell for, who turned out to have forgotten to tell her about his wife. It had taken a long time to get over the fact that he had tricked her into a relationship – she who had always sworn that she would never ever go out with a married man.

  “No. I couldn’t,” she said at last. “Look, thanks for the call, Johnny, we really must meet up for a drink sometime.”

  “That would be lovely, and don’t let’s leave it so long this time. I could bring Dan and you could bring whoever your significant other is currently. Make a night of it.”

  Callie made her excuses and ended the call with many promises to keep in touch, but the thought of inflicting an evening of Johnny’s salacious mix of gossip and sexual innuendo on a boyfriend, even if she had one, did not appeal. That and the fact he thought an evening was a disaster unless everyone got roaring drunk, despite Callie telling him time and time again that she didn’t like it. She hated the feeling of being out of control, and of course, she hated the hangover she would inevitably have the next morning. Kate, of course, would enjoy every minute of an evening with Johnny. Perhaps that was the answer. She could go with Kate, and better still, she could arrange to be called away nice and early and leave them all to it.

  The information she had got from Johnny had, however, been very useful and Callie started to dial Jayne’s number before noticing that it was still early. Perhaps the news of Adrian’s awful divorce could wait until after she’d had breakfast, or at least a cup of tea.

  * * *

  Callie parked her car and hurriedly got out, checking her watch as she did so. She was only a few minutes late and could see Miller’s silver saloon car already parked a little further up the street. As she locked her car, she saw, with relief, that Miller had waited for her and was only now getting out of his car.

  She was pleased to see that he had come alone, the last thing they needed was for Jeffries to make some crass remark and upset anyone.

  “Have you identified the latest victim?” she asked as they walked towards Mark’s home.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Someone must have missed her by now, surely?”

  Miller shrugged.

  “Her husband could be away, or perhaps they have separated. We just don’t know.”

  “She might not even have been married,” Callie mused.

&
nbsp; “I think that’s rather the point of the website, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but people lie online, which is also rather the point, isn’t it?”

  And he had to concede she was right.

  “Was there a can at the latest scene?” she asked as they walked down the short path to Mark’s front door.

  Miller hesitated before answering.

  “No. At least, not that we’ve found so far.”

  “Well, they weren’t hard to find at the previous scenes, so it’s likely there isn’t one.”

  “Yes.”

  Callie thought about what that meant. Either this latest murder wasn’t connected with the previous ones, which seemed unlikely, or the killer knew that his ruse to implicate Mark hadn’t worked and was no longer bothering with the misdirection. As the presence of the cans had not been revealed to the press, it once again pointed to the killer being someone close to the investigation. Callie was about to say this to Miller, but one look at his thunderous face told her he was very much aware of the fact and she kept quiet.

  They reached the front door and Miller knocked.

  The door was opened almost immediately by Mark, who, despite her call to him earlier, explaining why they were coming to see him, was still looking anxious. Callie couldn’t blame him. Women were being horrifically killed by someone who had intentionally tried to implicate him. He’d been repeatedly interviewed and held in a police cell, and driven to re-offend because of the stress. Clearly, the calming effect of setting fire to the farm outbuildings was wearing off.

  Mark showed them into the living room, where he seemed to have made an attempt to clear up.

  “Sorry, we’re a bit late, Mark, I got caught just as I was leaving,” Callie explained as she came into the living room.

  “It’s okay.”

  Miller cleared his throat once they were all seated comfortably.

  “Right, as I have said, Mark, we know that these fires are not down to you, but they must be being started by someone you know.”