TEN
Detective Sergeant Kate Bell had been studying the large cork board for a good five minutes before she realised she had her arms wrapped around herself despite the relative warmth of the office here at the heart of New Scotland yard in London. The board was covered, sometimes two deep with photos, clippings, maps and all manner of scraps of evidence no matter how tenuous they might seem at first glance.
It was a brainstorming tool they called the wall of ‘machafuko’ which was Swahili for chaos. Nothing was off limits here, nothing was deemed too far-fetched or unsubstantiated. If anyone from the ten strong task force thought something might pertain to the case, up on the wall it went. And just the same, if it led to yet another dead end, down it came and filed away (never dis-guarded) as some of the more dog eared papers had been pinned up and taken down again so many times they resembled the surface of a cheap dart board.
But despite the clutter there were eight untouched photographs lined across the top. Eight which they all hoped wouldn’t become nine, or God forbid ten.
These were the photos of the killer’s victims. There had been only six when Kate had joined the task force three years ago and they were still no closer to catching the maniac. Until now perhaps.
It was hard, but she forced herself to look at each one in turn. They were after all why they were here. The photos were divided into two parts. The left hand side was a photo of the person in life. They always seemed to be taken in happier times, bright faces smiling for the camera, as if to deliberately add to the sickening impact of the right hand side, a picture of them post-mortem. It was like some ghastly make-over show. Before and after crossing paths with a serial killer.
As always it was victim number five which caused her the most distress. Little Amy Peebles had been only ten when her life had been cut so horribly short. The killer was considered quite unique in his/her choice of victims, most stick to one ethnic, age or gender group, but this sick bastard was an equal opportunities murderer. So far they had linked four women of various ages, three men and of course poor Amy.
If it hadn’t been for the unique ‘signature’ scarring on each of their backs you could have been forgiven for thinking none of the killings were linked.
Kate dragged her gaze away from the wall and picked up the four grainy photographs she had printed earlier. These were the best of a bad lot really, four half decent images from the nearly a dozen they had received. She felt a much needed hit of adrenalin as she shuffled through them. Was she holding the key to finally unlocking this nightmare in her hands?
“Now there’s over time and then there’s taking the piss!” A familiar voice said from behind her.
She smiled as her boss Detective Chief Inspector Pearce came into the office, bleary eyed with his coat slung over one arm. She knew he’d been at his old colleagues leaving do but thankfully he didn’t look too worse for wear. Besides she had a feeling what she was about to show him would sober him right up.
“Sorry to drag you away from a night of debauchery boss.”
He snorted at this and threw his coat on a nearby desk. “I’m sixty one, I’m afraid those days are long gone.”
“Rubbish, I’ve seen you at the Christmas party,” she said.
He smiled. “Hmm. Okay so apart from your abuse, why am I here Kate?”
With a flutter of excitement in her stomach, Kate handed him the four photos. “Take a look at these, they were taken in Yorkshire earlier tonight.”
She waited for a reaction, but he just squinted at them and frowned. He then reached into the inside pocket of his dinner jacket and took out a pair of spectacles put them on and looked at each photo in turn, his face unreadable.
Finally he spoke. “Hmm, I hope the crime scene photographer was fired after taking these. What is he, on work experience or something?”
“It was a local bobby,” she told him. “He took them on one of those small digital cameras. The murder happened...” She checked the notes she had scrawled down earlier on a pad of A4 paper. “Happened on a small island, Widow’s Bay. It’s a small island just off the east coast, near Scarborough.”
“Very catchy.”
“Isn’t it?” She agreed waiting but still no reaction, so she grabbed them back off Pearce and shuffled through them looking for the best one. Pearce’s eye sight was notoriously bad at the best of times, let alone at half past midnight and after a night drinking. She found the one that had first pricked her interest and handed it back to Pearce. “Look at it, boss!” She said trying to keep the irritation out of her voice.
Again for an agonising amount of time his face didn’t alter a twitch and for one horrible moment Kate thought that maybe she had misread the picture.
Pearce’s grey eyes gave a flash of recognition. “Jesus.”
“You see it, don’t you?”
“Not again,” he uttered and looked up at Kate from over the top of his glasses. She could see the desolation in his face then suddenly realised she hadn’t given him the full details.
“No, boss listen,” she said taking the photo out of his shaking hands. “That was taken on an island. But that’s not all.”
“How did we get these?” Pearce asked not letting her finish. He glanced at the board clearly contemplating having to add another photo to the top row.
“They came from Yorkshire CID, Hull,” Kate told him. “The copper who took these e-mailed them to the mainland and someone at Hull CID thought he recognised the markings. I think he was involved in the case a little during the early days. Anyway he sent them through to us. Not more than an hour ago.”
“I need to speak to the copper who took these,” Pearce said. “We need to get that place on lock down, quick as we can.”
“Boss, it’s okay.” She put a hand on his arm and he finally looked away from the board of Machafuko. “They are holed up at the lifeboat station on the island. From what we know there’s a massive storm up there at the moment, it’s got the whole island cut off from the mainland. Apparently the phone lines are in and out at the moment, they were lucky to get these through as it is.”
His face brightened. “Right, we need to get going now, whilst this storm holds out,” he moved to grab his coat but stopped mid action. “What about the body?” He asked. “We could do with some better photos.”
Kate glanced at one of the photos on the desk, that old familiar pattern so delicately carved into the flesh made her wince. “The body’s with the copper. It’s at the local RNLI lifeboat station. Apparently it’s the only place with half reliable power due to the storm.”
She watched as her old mentor pulled on his coat, she had seen him age terribly over the three years she had been with the task force. The weight of the stalled investigation had lain heavy on his shoulders and she knew he took every setback as a personal failure. It felt good to see him so energised, filled with renewed purpose. She just hoped that this time they truly had the break they needed.
“Let’s go,” Pearce said and Kate had to jog to keep up as he pushed through the door and into the long corridor which led to the lift at the end.
“Oh and boss?” She said as she got level with him. “That’s not the best part.”
He turned to her with a quizzical look on his face but didn’t break stride.
“They have a witness.”
Pearce’s jaw practically hit the floor. “Don’t mess with me.” He said warily as they approached the lift.
“No shit boss,” she said and punched the down button. “A woman, they think maybe she saw the whole thing. She was found near the scene. She’s in shock apparently so hasn’t said anything yet.”
The lift doors opened and they got in. Kate couldn’t remember seeing Pearce so animated, he seemed to have lost ten years in as many seconds. “Jesus, this could be it!” He said and hit the down button. As the lift began to descend he clapped his hands together. “Christ, Kate. This is the closest we’ve been for years. It may be the middle of October, but it feels like Christmas to me.”
She nodded in agreement as something else occurred to her. “Y’know, boss. If this island really is cut off...”
Pearce’s face bloomed with recognition. “No one can get on. Or off.”
“Exactly. The local police on the mainland say it could be another day or so before the ferry will be up and running again. And sure as shit no one could swim back in that weather.”
Pearce exhaled. He closed his eyes trying to stay calm. “He’s still on there.” The finality of the statement hung in the air between them like a physical presence.
“For at least another twenty four hours,” Kate said and her heart skipped a beat seeing what looked like a tear in Pearce’s eye. This was the best lead they had had as long as she had been working on the case, if ever before. She looked at the old man and felt a slight hint of despondency. If the murdering bastard got away this time, with so much stacked against him, she worried it would kill her boss or at the very least break him beyond repair.
The lift reached the ground floor and they came out into the reception area. “I’ve got to make a couple of calls,” Pearce told her. “Meanwhile, find out if we can get onto that island on a chopper. Christ, see if you can get your hands on one of those sea king helicopters the navy use. Either way I want to get as close to that island as I can ASAP.
“Don’t know about the navy, but I can have one of ours on the helipad on the roof in an hour.”
“Do it, and wake up the rest of the team. They’ll have to follow by road. I want you and me and every bit of info we have on this bastard up in the air in an hour, got it?”
“Yes sir,” Kate replied and moved over to where a telephone was attached to the wall her heart hammering.
Pearce left her and headed for the large revolving doors at the front of the building which led out into the street beyond. “I’ll call the Chief Superintendent from my car, he’ll get us all the clearances we need.” He turned but didn’t stop walking. “This is it, Kate,” he said firmly. “I don’t care if we have to call in the bloody army. No one gets on and off that island until we have that bastard. Even if we have to arrest every living soul on it.”
With that he negotiated the revolving doors and was gone. Kate took a moment as she waited for the phone to connect. She took in the deathly quiet reception area and couldn’t help but think this was the calm before the (quite literal) storm.