Killing the Beasts (19 page)

'I'll go with that,' answered McCloughlin.

'I think you'll find she may have collapsed in the bathroom,' the SOCO stated. They stepped back into the hallway. There were only three other doors to choose from: kitchen, bedroom, bathroom. Looking in the bathroom, they saw a sink that was partially full of water, a bottle of liquid soap lying half submerged inside. On the floor next to a neat arrangement of toilet rolls was a large clamshell holding several brightly coloured smaller shells in its concave surface. Several had spilled across the lino floor.

'So she went down in here. Struck or collapsed?'

They moved through into the kitchen and Jon immediately pointed to the draining board. 'Two cups.' Using the line of foot-plates, he approached the sink. 'Recently washed up.' He reached a hand round the back of the plastic kettle and held a knuckle against it. 'Kettle's still faintly warm.'

McCloughlin was looking at him quizzically.

'There were also two cups on the draining board at Polly Mather's flat, 'Jon continued. 'If both victims made brews for someone just before they were killed, it could have been the same visitor.'

'Go on.'

'Well, this is just a starter for ten. The killer comes round, our victims let him in, make him a brew. They sit and chat. Then, somehow, each victim ends up collapsing and getting her throat filled with playdough or whatever it is. He rinses the cups out and leaves.'

McCloughlin gazed up at the ceiling. 'There are some pretty large gaps in that chain of events. But it would make sense that, if someone called round that she knew, she'd offer him a drink. But what happens after that?' He asked himself as much as Jon.

Next they walked down the short corridor and looked in the bedroom. A collection of teddy bears and other furry animals were carefully arranged at the top of a single bed. On the wall above it was a crucifix and on the bedside table a Bible.

'She must arrange them every morning,' Jon murmured, looking at the soft toys. 'That's very meticulous.'

'Twenty-three years old, going on fifty,' said McCloughlin behind him. 'Childish, yet very methodical. The flat's spotless. Bible basher too. Ten quid says that bed's never seen any action.'

Jon let out a snort of breath. 'Not even debatable.'

McCloughlin's chuckle was dry and emotionless. 'Let's talk outside.' At the bottom of the steps he said, 'So, assuming that's the same stuff blocking her throat, we've got a second victim.'

Jon nodded. 'I don't like the look of this, Boss. Those two women couldn't inhabit more different worlds. A skinny ravehead with tattoos who works in a music shop and a fundo-freak with a weight problem who sleeps with half the cast of Disneyworld each night. I imagine that they're not the best of mates.'

McCloughlin looked up. 'It could work out to be great news. Let's assume those two girls' lives are as massively different as they appear to be. Their paths have crossed somewhere. They've been to the same place, met the same person or done the same thing at some point. If we can find out what that thing is, we're a huge step closer to catching whoever did this. So let's start cross-referencing every aspect of their lives. Who they know, where they've been, what they've done. The works.'

Now there were two victims, Jon didn't know if he was still in charge of the investigation or not. He was just wondering how to ask the question when McCloughlin's mobile went.

He fumbled around trying to get his hand inside the scene-ofcrime suit. 'Yes?'

Once again his eyes wandered towards Jon as the information was relayed to him, but this time they showed genuine alarm. 'OK, OK, yes. I understand.' Finally he flipped the phone shut. 'A third body has been found. Not four miles from here. Heather Rayne, thirty-two years old, IT trainer at Kellogg's, throat blocked with a white gel.'

Jon could only manage a whispered, 'Jesus.'

McCloughlin was staring at the tarmac. 'Right, this changes everything. I'm moving the incident room to Longsight. I'll need the facilities and extra space there. I'll talk to you later about moving your team over from Ashton. In the meantime, stay here and start asking questions. Begin with the girl who found her.'

As McCloughlin started walking back across the yard, Jon said, 'Boss? I wasn't sure about ordering a mass spectrometer analysis of the first victim's blood. Budgetary concerns...'

McCloughlin interrupted him. 'Forget the budget on this; get it ordered.' He disappeared round the corner.

Chapter 12

1 November 2002

Jon sat down on the footplate of the ambulance, making sure the level of his head was lower than hers, ensuring his presence was as unthreatening as possible. 'Hello, my name's Jon Spicer from Greater Manchester Police. I understand that you discovered Mary?'

The girl raised her head, complete lack of make-up making the redness below her nostrils more apparent. She wore a sensible lilaccoloured overcoat, Marks & Spencer's probably, and her hair was held back by a band very similar to Mary's. Jon guessed they went to the same church.

'Yes I did,' she whispered, dabbing a damp handkerchief at her nose.

'How did you know Mary?'

'We go to the same church, St Luke's on Alexandra Road. That was where we were going this morning. I call round for her.'

Jon thought for a second. 'So was her front door open? How did you get in?'

She fished in her pockets and produced a set of keys. 'I let myself in. I have a key from when I looked after her cat, Mogwai. He died in the summer. She didn't answer the door, but I knew she was in. I'd spoken to her last thing yesterday night.'

'Last thing? How do you mean, exactly?'

'We often ring each other before going to bed.' She looked like she was about to start crying again.

'And she sounded normal?'

'Yes, we're preparing a play for the Sunday school class. She rang off saying she'd see me this morning.'

'Was she expecting anyone else to be calling round last night?'

'I don't think so. Not at that time.'

'A boyfriend?' Emma's eyes widened in shock. 'Oh no. She wasn't seeing anyone, I'm sure of that.'

Jon noted her defensive, almost possessive tone. 'Fair enough. One other thing. There's a sign round the back about a CCTV.'

Her face reddened and she looked down at her hands.

'Is there a camera somewhere?'

Emma started fiddling with her hanky. 'No. Mary put the sign up to stop the cars. Men would drive round the back with prostitutes. They'd leave soiled contraceptives behind. It went on all the time after it got dark.'

Hiding his disappointment, Jon said, 'OK Emma, when you feel ready, I'll get an officer to drive you to the station if that's all right. We'll need a statement.'

The girl didn't object. Another car pulled up and two plain clothes officers got out.

Jon stood up. 'Thanks for your help. 'Having recognized them as CID officers he had worked with once or twice before, Jon made a beeline for them. 'All right boys? DI Spicer, MISU.'

He saw recognition and then surprise play across their faces. Jon sensed slight resentment that he'd beaten them to the crime scene. 'We got a call straight from the control room. This one matches another from two days ago.'

'That girl over in Hyde?' asked one.

'Yup.'

No one spoke and Jon could sense from their expressions that they were wondering if he was the SIO, not quite able to believe that he would have been handed such a major investigation so soon. He decided to leave them wondering. 'I just need a word with the SOCO; see you in a bit.' He walked back along the side of the house and called in through the back door. 'Hello? DI Spicer again.'

The SOCO reappeared in the hallway.

'Any chance of dusting the doorbell as a priority? Someone called round before her friend turned up.'

Jon got in just before nine o'clock, Punch bounding down the corridor in delight at his arrival. As he tickled his dog's stomach, he could hear Alice and Ellie in the kitchen. The laughter in their voices made him smile.

'How's it going, girls?' He was careful to inject some life into his voice, even though he was completely exhausted.

They were laying out the cartons of curry on the table, a stack of naan breads to the side. 'Good timing,' said Alice as he kissed her on the cheek.

Ellie gave him a massive squeeze and opened up the fridge. 'Does big bro want a Stella?'

Jon licked his lips. 'You beauty.'

She cracked two open and a can of diet Lilt for Alice.

'Any news on the handbag?' asked Jon, taking a swig.

'Nah,' said Alice with a note of finality in her voice. 'It's gone – probably at the bottom of a canal somewhere.' She pointed with a fork at the cartons. 'Prawn dopiaza, beef madras and vegetable korma.'

As they were eating, Jon said to Ellie, 'Have you seen the wrinklies lately?'

Ellie rolled her big brown eyes. 'Mum's just enrolling on an evening class in picture framing at Ridge Danyers College. Before that they're going on a sailing holiday round the Greek islands. Dad's knees are giving him loads of grief now the weather's turning colder.'

Their dad had worked all his life in the docks at Salford, unloading the cargoes that were carried up the Manchester Ship Canal on vessels from all over the world. During the early part of his career only low levels of mechanization existed and the years of toil had taken their toll.

Jon turned to Alice. 'Our childhood holidays involved nothing more than trips to Southport, Formby or Blackpool. Oh yes, one year we travelled to Anglesey and that seemed adventurous. Now look at them. One trip to Spain to celebrate the old man's retirement and they're addicted to as many foreign breaks as they can afford.'

'Exactly,' laughed Ellie. 'I keep telling them to leave something for our inheritance.'

Once the curry was finished Alice glanced at the clock on the wall. 'Shit, it's nearly ten. We'd better get this video on.'

After the lift of his first few sips, the beer had brought on a wave of tiredness. Now, with a stomach full of curry, Jon could feel sleep dragging him down. He got up to shake himself out of it. 'What did you get?' he asked, pulling two more cans out of the fridge, hoping another might bring him back to life.
'O Brother, Where Art Thou?
' answered Ellie, cramming the debris from the takeaway into the bin.

Nodding at her choice, he handed her a can and they went through into the TV room, turned the lights down and put the video on.

Twenty minutes later, Alice nudged Ellie and pointed over to Jon. He was fast asleep in the frayed old armchair, legs straight out, one hand curled round the can on his stomach, the other resting on the top of Punch's head.

Ellie reached over and plucked the beer from his fingers. 'Poor old codger.'

Alice laughed quietly as she reached towards the table. Spread out on it was a variety of different chewing gums.

'Got enough flavours there?' Ellie asked as Alice selected a cinnamon one.

'Anything's better than the nicotine type. Taste like some sort of mouthwash gone wrong. Help yourself, by the way.'

Ellie started sifting through them, 'Still finding giving up hard then?'

Alice blew her cheeks out. 'Those first few cigarettes you sneak on the way back from school? It was so exciting, but if I'd known what a nightmare it would turn out to be...' She looked across at Jon. 'I'll never touch one again though, I can say that for sure.'

'Oh?'

Alice checked Jon's sleeping face again, 'I was dying to break some good news tonight, too.' Looking to Ellie, she tapped her fingers on her stomach.

Ellie's face lit up. 'You're not?'

'Looks like it.' Suddenly Alice felt tears welling up.

They hugged each other, then Alice's eyes strayed back to Jon as he started to snore. 'I've been bursting to tell him, but this investigation he's on... I'll just have to wait for a better time.'

'I won't say a thing,' whispered Ellie.

Later, as the film credits rolled, Ellie yawned and got to her feet. 'Right, I'd better get back.' She started reaching for her jacket.

'You're not walking home now.'

Ellie laughed. 'It's only five minutes away.'

'Ellie, 'Alice said more sternly, cursing the fact she'd never passed her driving test. 'I'll wake Jon up – he can take you in the car.'

'No, leave him.'

'Crash in the spare room, then, 'Alice insisted. 'I've got a clean T-shirt and knickers you can borrow.'

Ellie hovered at the door. 'You sure? I don't want to be—'

'You're not,' Alice interrupted. 'Anyway, you can't leave me to sort those two out on my own.'

As they looked at Jon and Punch, both dead to the world, a mobile started to ring.

'Who's taking care of...' Jon started saying, the fractured remains of a dream dying on his lips. He blinked at the two women, realizing where he was. 'That my phone?'

Alice fetched it from his jacket and tossed it over.

'Jon Spicer here,' he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. He remained silent for a few seconds before interrupting the flow of words. 'Hold it, hold it. I'm not on the case any more.' He listened again. 'Well, the list should have been updated. A memo went out yesterday. No, don't worry, it's not your fault. Yeah, any of the other officers. 'He was about to hang up when he said, 'By the way, what type of car was it?' He gave the sort of nod that indicated he wasn't surprised and pressed the red button.

Looking at Alice and Ellie's questioning faces, he explained, 'It was the duty officer at Altrincham police station. He still had me down as being on the team for Operation Fisherman. Some guy just heard a car revving on his front drive, looked out the window to see his Porsche roaring off up the street.'

Hating the fact he was no longer involved, Jon sat back in the armchair. One hand returned to the top of Punch's head as a memory of Tom in his Porsche Boxter resurfaced.

Chapter 13

July 2002

Jon stood next to the officer brushing powder over the handle of Tom's garage door. Hearing a car slow down on the road behind him, he turned to see a bright yellow Porsche Boxter coming to a halt at the mouth of the drive, its way blocked by the police van. The car reversed back on to the street and Tom got out.