Beautiful Death (7 page)

He covered the snarl that came easily with a more reasonable expression. ‘I’m not sick, Kate, not in the way it looks. But I have to make a phone call — an urgent one — and then I have to get down to the crime scene before this girl’s family does. You stay here and finish up. You seem to be handling it really well. It doesn’t need both of us.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I say so,’ he said, leaving.

‘No, sir. I mean why do you have to get to the scene before the family does?’

He pulled at the door, turning briefly. ‘Because I know the victim,’ and he was gone before Kate could gather up her shock and respond.

6.

Jack stared, transfixed by the familiar van. SOCO people were crawling all over it as Sharpe had warned. From a distance he could see one of his own team, Malik, keeping a close watch on their progress and liaising with the homicide crew. He stepped back into a doorway and rang the young detective, watched him reach into his pocket for his phone.

‘DS Khan.’

‘It’s Hawksworth. I’m trying to find Brodie,’ he said, doing his best not to lie.

‘Hi sir, um, he’s been here at the scene with me. We’ve got a name for the victim, sir, have you heard?’

‘I have. Where is Brodie?’

‘He’s accompanying the victim’s parents back to their place in Hadley Wood and heading straight back to the ops room. Is he not answering his mobile, sir? Because I spoke to him on it just a few minutes ago.’

‘Not at the moment, Mal,’ he lied, reflecting he
probably had switched it off out of courtesy to Lily’s family. ‘How are they holding up?’

‘Not good, sir, as you might expect. That’s why he’s gone with them. They wanted to go straight to the morgue but he persuaded them to be escorted home first.’

‘They’ve hardly begun the post-mortem. It will be hours yet. Have they found anything in the van?’

‘Nothing yet, sir. But you know SOCO, everything takes an age. The photographer’s just on his way down now.’

‘Okay, good job, Mal. Catch you later,’ Jack said, dragging in cold air to keep himself alert, prevent himself from falling prey to the rush of emotion that was pummelling him.

He needed to call Stu Appleton from the homicide team and he really should call his boss, but he knew Malcolm Sharpe would not give him the support he needed on this, not at this moment, not until he’d made a different call.

Jack’s jaw was rigid as he punched in the number. ‘It’s me,’ he said as soon as it was answered. He didn’t wait for a response. ‘I need to see you.’

‘Something up?’

‘I need to see you now.’ His voice was terse.

He heard the sigh. ‘Okay, no problem. Er, at Empress, or —’

‘No. I’ll see you at the Blackbird. Give me half an hour.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘No.’ He rang off. Took one last look at Lily’s van, closed his eyes briefly to fix her beautiful face in his mind, banish the memory of its ruin, then began running towards Whitechapel tube station. Taxis were few and slow at this time of the morning;

besides, he wanted the ground to swallow him up and he wanted to be anonymous with no chatty taxi driver discussing politics or London traffic.

Fourteen stops later he alighted at busy Earls Court, a friendly face waiting at the ticket barriers when he showed his warrant. His hand was instantly caught in a firm shake, his arm squeezed tightly. He’d never been so glad to see his huge friend.

‘Geoff, thanks for coming. Nice beard.’

Amused, green eyes clouded with concern. ‘You look shaken, matey. Am I about to hear something really bad?’

Jack felt his bile rising again but he swallowed the urge angrily. It didn’t go unnoticed by his pal, Geoff Benson, who frowned now, and placed a big, bearlike arm around Jack’s shoulders. ‘I think you need a drink.’

‘I’m on duty.’

‘I’ll vouch it was for medicinal purposes. You’re ghost white, what’s happening?’

Jack shook his head. ‘I need some air. I’ll tell you everything at the Blackbird.’

‘All right, let’s go. Are you sure you’re going to make it?’

‘I’ll be okay.’

They moved in silence, dodging people, weaving their way towards the traditional watering hole, easily visible from a distance because of its distinctive black paint. Inside, it was all but deserted, predictable considering the hour.

‘What do you want?’

‘I don’t care,’ Jack said, looking wan and distracted. ‘But Geoff, no alcohol. The last thing I need is booze on my breath with what’s just happened.’ His friend nodded, turning back to the
bar. Jack had felt his phone vibrating several times since he’d met Geoff and without even checking knew it would be Kate, or perhaps Cam. He had no desire to answer Kate’s inevitable questions or hear Cam’s report on Lily’s parents just yet. He needed a few moments longer and some advice. He slumped in a seat by the window, staring sightlessly through the grubby glass into busy Earls Court Road.

Geoff arrived, with two strong-looking coffees.

‘Get that down you,’ he said firmly.

Jack obeyed, grimacing at the first hit of bitter caffeine. Under the coffee he tasted something stronger still. He looked up at Geoff, query in his face.

‘I think you needed that,’ Geoff said lightly but softly. ‘It’s just a splash. Drink, Jack.’

He finished the cuppa and warmth spread through him from the malt whisky that had lurked beneath the roasted brew.

‘You can suck some mints later . . . or refer any complaints to me,’ Geoff counselled. ‘Better?’

‘Yeah,’ Jack admitted, but knew it was transient. He felt his eyes water, and covered the pain by pulling out his handkerchief and rubbing his face all over.

‘You need to tell me,’ Geoff coaxed.

He began, words suddenly spilling out easily now that he felt safe, cocooned in his closest, most trusted friend’s attention. ‘I’ve been seeing a woman. Her name’s Lily.’

‘The florist, right?’

Jack nodded. Geoff looked cuddly and that fooled people into thinking his friend was somehow dopey. But Jack didn’t know a sharper brain at work once Geoff threw his into action. He hated playing cards against him.

‘I’m impressed you remember,’ he said sadly.

‘You met her . . . what? Two years ago, or thereabouts?’

‘I did. You’re right, it’s two years. But we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months.’

‘All right, so I know this girl is British-born Chinese and beautifully exotic. I think that’s the description you used when you first told me about her.’

‘Very good, Geoff. I really am impressed by your memory.’

‘So?’

‘So . . . now she’s dead,’ he said baldly.

His friend carefully put down his glass of coffee. He sat back, regarding Jack, his eyes narrowing but filled with concern. ‘I don’t know what to say. Was it an accident?’

‘She was murdered.’

For all his professional composure, Geoff couldn’t hide his astonishment. ‘What? When?’

‘Sometime yesterday, I think.’ He made a sound that was half despair, half disbelief. ‘But it gets so much worse, as only my fucked up life can.’ He lifted his gaze to meet Geoff’s. ‘A post-mortem is currently under way on Lily . . . a post-mortem I was sent to observe because she was the latest victim in a killing spree. He likes to cut off their faces.’

Geoff looked stunned, and said nothing for a few horribly long moments, while Jack gazed at the dregs of his coffee. ‘Operation Panther,’ Geoff finally murmured.

‘The very one.’

‘You saw her?’ Geoff squirmed as he asked, and Jack imagined his friend regretted the question the second it was out.

‘Yes. Of course I didn’t know it was Lily then, because the woman on the table had no face.’ That was harsh. It wasn’t Geoff’s fault. He saw Geoff look down. ‘Sorry, you can’t imagine . . .’

‘No, I can’t. I really can’t. Jack, what can I do? Anything.’ He fidgeted with his new beard.

Jack’s anger fought through the pain. ‘I want to stay on the case,’ he growled. His voice sounded almost primeval.

‘That is
not
a wise idea.’

‘I don’t want to hear that. All I want to hear is that you’ll help me.’

Geoff leaned forward in his seat. ‘For fuck’s sake, Jack, your girlfriend’s a victim of a serial killer, and a clue in a major operation that you’re heading up, and you think it’s appropriate that you continue with the case? What are you thinking, man?’

‘I’m thinking about Lily,’ he groaned. ‘She was beautiful, Geoff. She was young. She was intelligent. She was funny. She was sexy.
He sliced off her face!
She was getting married — did I mention that?’

Geoff stared at him. Jack knew everything about this conversation must sound ominous to his pal.

‘We had no future, she told me. She was always honest. But we were having fun and she was going to marry someone she didn’t want to. So we kept seeing each other for as long as we could. It was early days. I wasn’t in love but I loved being with her, and who knows where it could have . . .’ He stopped, swallowed. ‘A few more weeks and our relationship was destined to finish, but she was lovely, Geoff . . . special, you know?’

His friend nodded sadly. ‘And you’re absolutely sure it’s her?’

‘It’s her. I recognised a birthmark.’ He touched his shoulder instinctively. ‘I even went down to the crime scene to be sure it was her van. The morgue’s just ID’d her. It’s Lily. My Lily . . . she’s lying there on the steel table, dead, with no face.’

Geoff squeezed Jack’s forearm. ‘Okay, matey, listen to me, I know you want to find her killer but there’s too much emotion here. It’s dangerous, Jack. And after —’

‘Don’t say the McEvoy case. That was different.’

‘It’s no different. That case fucked with your head and your emotions.’

‘I came here for your support, not counselling,’ Jack argued, but he didn’t pull his arm away.

‘Jack, before I’m anything else, I’m your friend and my advice as your friend is to tell you to go home now and ring Sharpe and tell him you’re off the case and why. You know that’s the right thing to do, and correct police procedure.’

‘No.’

‘I’ll do it for —’

‘No!’

‘Hawk . . .’ Geoff’s voice trailed off.

‘I’ve told you because you’re part of Ghost Squad and you’re very senior. You can protect me.’

‘Are you crazy?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps. But I’m going to find this monster and —’

‘Jack, listen to yourself. This is revenge, there’s nothing cool-headed about what you’re planning. You can’t run an operation with this poison in your gut. It has the potential to destroy you but it also has the potential to compromise the case and let him get away. You know that. It’s why you’re here — you want dispensation, so you can go off and hunt him
down and kill him with your own bare hands or something along those lines. I’m not going to sign off on this.’

‘I’ve never asked you a favour before,’ Jack said, fixing Geoff with a firm stare. His friend looked down. He knew he had him then. ‘And I have no intention of letting him off that easily.’

Silence stretched between them before Geoff finally spoke. ‘You want me to sit on this. It’s unprofessional.’ He shook his head helplessly.

‘Look, if I tell Sharpe he’ll haul me off the case today.’

‘And rightly! But you’re thinking that because you’ve told me, you’re in the clear?’

‘I’ve now followed correct protocol. Through you, DPS is aware of my relationship with the latest victim. I have voluntarily come to you with this — it was something that may never have come out otherwise. You’re very senior and capable of making this call. I will brief my officers so they aren’t burned by any fire that might erupt.’

And me?’

‘Geoff, I know you can sit on this without repercussion. Ghost Squad simply has to be satisfied that police officers are conducting their business within the law. I’m not infringing any law. If anything I’m going to be following this with absolute vigour and whoever he is I’m going to find him and build a case against him so he’s put away for life.’

‘Jack, what if the media gets hold of this? It’s going to look very ugly. You could be a suspect in their eyes!’

Jack glowered at the suggestion. ‘Why would it get out? No one knew about Lily and me.’

‘No one?’ Geoff echoed, his expression dubious.

Jack baulked. ‘Just her sister.’

His friend sighed.

‘She’s fifteen! A schoolgirl. She’s been sworn to secrecy and I know Alys has said nothing to anyone. She won’t say anything either.’

‘You’re too trusting. What about the parents — you don’t think they’ll find out when everyone starts to niggle at the sister for information? What about crawling all over Lily’s diaries, personal effects?’

‘No diary . . . well, not as far as I know. Lily lived alone. She didn’t have close girlfriends and anyway, she was a secretive person. I know she wouldn’t have risked sharing even the vaguest hint that she was seeing someone else when she was promised to her wealthy boyfriend. I will find him before her sister is cornered.’

Geoff regarded him sceptically. ‘Why can’t you have simple girlfriends like the rest of us, Jack? Last year I dated a divorcee with two kids who was happy to be taken out to dinner and given a kiss goodnight. I gave her some roses on Valentine’s Day . . . and she was overjoyed.’

‘She sounds nice,’ Jack said.

‘She was just a normal girl. I’m not seeing her any more but my point is why can’t you do nice and normal? Why do they always have to be so complicated?’

Jack shook his head, looking helpless. ‘I don’t know. I thought she was.’

‘Going by your description she was hardly your everyday girl next door!’

Jack didn’t answer.

‘Okay, look, you’ve told me everything and I’m going to write this up formally and say that I see no reason why you will not handle yourself with utter
professionalism. But I’ll need to protect my backside by saying that this was not a serious relationship. You were simply dating and it’s a horrible coincidence . . . although Jack, you’ve now got form, haven’t you?’

‘Anne McEvoy targeted
me
!’

‘It doesn’t matter. On paper, you’ve got form, matey. Be careful. My advice is that you should resign immediately from Operation Panther.’

‘Out of the question,’ Jack said.

‘Of course it is,’ Geoff acknowledged, weariness in his tone. ‘In that case, I’ve been advised by you of the situation and I’m permitting you to continue in your position. Did you know I’m about to go on annual leave?’

‘No.’ Jack looked surprised. ‘You never take leave.’

‘Well, they’re forcing me to because I have so much accrued. But it makes you one lucky bastard because I’m going to forget to file this report I’m writing and accidentally carry home the notes in my laptop, which I’ll promptly ignore because I’m on holiday.’