TWELVE
Detective Sergeant Kate Bell offered up a silent curse as the helicopter shuddered alarmingly again. She could feel the acid in her churning stomach rise another couple of PH levels and did her best to push all thoughts of throwing up out of her head. She tried to focus instead on the constant stream of information coming through on her iPad in hopes it would take her mind off the growing nausea.
She hated flying in helicopters at the best of times, but even though they were still someway from the storm’s epicenter, it felt like they were being thrown around like a child’s radio controlled toy. She glanced across to Pearce whose face was set in deep concentration as he listened to his headset he had one hand over the right headphone speaker putting her in mind of an aging radio DJ.
Pearce had been speaking to the local police both in Hull and just recently those on their way to Scarborough seemingly on mass to ensure that when the storm did clear, no one could get on, or more importantly off the island until they got there.
Bell scrolled through the photos the copper had sent through before of the victim. It didn’t do much for her rebelling stomach, but still she forced herself to study each in turn. Bad quality though they were, there was no doubt this was the work of the killer they had tracked for so long in vain. The horrific ‘wings’ carved into the victim’s back, insanely intricate, truly the work of a madman and all too familiar.
But still for all their familiarity there was something about them that had set off a distant alarm at the back of her mind. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. So she scrolled through them again hoping for that spark of recognition she knew was so tantalizingly close to igniting into full blown revelation.
Next to her, Pearce was flicking through the more traditional paper evidence he preferred whilst listening intently to whomever he was speaking to at the Hull CID. “Uhuh, uhuh,” he nodded trying to get a word in edgeways. “Yes, and once again I’d just like to thank you Chief Inspector your help in this has been invaluable...”
It was Chief Inspector Lyle, he had been the one to recognise the markings on the victim and in turn had informed Bell’s office of the find. And by the sounds of it to her he was making sure if any collar was made he would get his just praise. To be fair, she couldn’t blame him he had done more in the last few hours than they had managed to achieve in years. But still he wasn’t one of the team who had spent every waking hour obsessing over the case. She couldn’t help but smile seeing Pearce roll his eyes.
“Yes, yes Chief Inspector, as I said we are well aware of how invaluable you have been to the investigation. Truly, yes we couldn’t have done this without you, and I can assure you once this is wrapped up it won’t be forgotten.” He held his hand over the mic for a moment and exhaled. “Tosser,” he hissed with a weary shake of the head before speaking again. “Of course Chief Inspector, yes. Now it’s important that you listen to me. We should be with you in an hour or as close as we can get in this weather. Now I need you to get as many of your officers together as you can down...”
He began to rummage in his pockets as he listened and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He took one out with his teeth and was about to look for a light when Bell cleared her throat. She raised her eyebrows when he looked at her and glanced to the no smoking sign on the side window next to her.
“Bollocks,” Pearce spat out the cigarette and concentrated again on what Lyle was saying. He nodded. “That’s right, as many as you can lay your hands on. When this storm clears no one, and I mean no one leaves that island until we have this bastard. I’ll invoke martial law if I have to!”
He glanced at Bell who mouthed; ‘I don’t think you can do that.’ And he mouthed back; ‘watch me’.
“Okay, Chief Inspector,” Pearce continued into the mic. “We will contact you when we land. Now if you’d be so kind as to have someone at your end patch me through to the island? Splendid, thank you, goodbye... Yes I’ll wait.”
Pearce exhaled again and gave Bell a look of exasperation. She winked at him. “You’d make a great politician boss.”
“Hmm,” was all she got in reply.
“Sir?” The co-pilot stuck his head out of the cock pit. “Sir, we’re going to have to land a few miles out of Scarborough. There’s a small private air strip we can use, it’s too dangerous to land closer to the coast. We’ll have a car standing by.”
“Good work,” Pearce replied and the co-pilot ducked back.
“Looks like God’s on our side this time, boss.” Bell said and eyed the worsening weather outside.
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s about fucking time.”