Murder Path (Fallen Angels Book 3) (19 page)

Chapter 24

A blur of light invades the darkness behind my eyelids, enacting a teasing dance as my waking eyes try to focus on it, try to pin it down.  It is evasive, enjoying the chase, a watercolour sheen on the greyness of my being, an image my mind captures and stores away, for a future time, when I will paint it. The light warms, not only my eyes, but my body, my mind registering sun, my mind thinking: warm sun, that’s way past day break.

My eyes open suddenly as I raise my torso from the bed quickly, reaching over to the side table to grab my watch.  I can see the sun outside and from its position, would guess its nine thirty.  I check the watch.  Nine forty three.  Shit, they will have started the morning briefing at HQ by now. 

I throw the quilt back and jump out of bed naked, then trot across the room and out into the hallway.  The apartment is quiet, all the other bedroom doors closed.  I tap on Rebecca’s door, opening it as I do.  She is lying spread-eagled on her back, in the buff and asleep, her quilt crumpled on the floor.  I step in and give her bare backside a quick slap, startling her. 

‘Come on sleepy head, it’s after nine thirty.  I need to check in on the morning briefing.  Could you pop in on Jacob, see how he is doing for me please?’

‘Bastard.  Yes!’ she grunts, kicking her legs randomly, trying to hit me. 

I smile, pulling her door closed, then tiptoe along to the study and enter, heading straight for the monitors. I power them on as I slip into the chair in front of them.  The leather is cold on my bare backside, setting goose bumps on my skin.

The HQ screen starts to come on and I see a full Incident room.  They have a new white board at the front as well.  Strange and Cruickshank are up front together, that’s interesting.  I hear Strange talking as the audio kicks in.

‘So to recap, in order to contain and capture Saul and Angus, within the hour roadblocks will be placed on all roads in and out of Morpeth.  Every vehicle coming out or going in will be checked.  In addition, more than sixty uniformed officers will start house to house checks across the whole of the town.  We will focus on rented and holiday accommodation first, then move on to the rest.  A team will also be checking all of the industrial and office buildings in the town.  DCI Cruickshank and DI Trentor will be accompanying me down to Morpeth to assist in the search.’ Strange finishes, asking for any questions.

What have I missed?  What has happened? Why are they moving to roadblocks this quickly? 

‘When are we going to the press about the two murders Sir?  Before the blockade of the town?’  Trentor asks.  Two murders.  Who is the second one?  When did that happen?

‘There is a conference arranged for lunchtime where we will be informing the press of the murders of McFetrich and Ettrick.  We will also be informing them that Saul and Angus are the prime suspects.’

Ettrick has been murdered as well and they think we did it.  Shit.  I can understand why they want a cordon around the town.  A little sooner than I had expected.  Still, we’ve got an hour, and we’ve got contingency plans.  Need to get moving though.  I jump from the seat and sprint over to the door, one ear still listening to the audio.

‘Rebecca.  We’ve got problems.  You need to get in here now.’  I shout, turning back to the displays.

‘Why are we sure they are in Morpeth Sir?’ DI Purves asks.

‘Rebecca Angus was as the Fielding Institute in Morpeth yesterday.  We know that she took files from there relating to the Seymour family.  We have CCTV footage of the vehicle she was driving leaving the hospital grounds but no CCTV footage of it leaving Morpeth.  So it must still be in the town somewhere.’

‘What’s happening John.’  Rebecca asks, stepping naked into the door space and leaning against the frame as she rubs her sleep filled eyes. 

‘Another murder.  Ettrick.  They must have evidence incriminating us otherwise they wouldn’t have received the authorisation for an operation of this size.  They know we are in Morpeth and they know you were at the Institute yesterday.  We need to start packing and get moving.  Is Eve awake?’

‘No idea, I’ve just crawled out of bed.  I’ll go check Jacob first, then give her a shout.’ Rebecca responds, an air of urgency entering her sleepy body as she heads off down the corridor.

‘So if she was in Morpeth yesterday, does that not conflict with her being seen with Ettrick?’

What’s he talking about. How could Rebecca have been with Ettrick?  She was with me?

‘The timeline stands up Barry.  A good many witnesses saw someone looking like Rebecca Angus, but calling herself Madame Evangeline having drinks with Ettrick the night before last.  The Medical Examiner puts Ettrick’s time of death at around one thirty a.m.  That gives more than enough time for her to be in Morpeth at twelve yesterday.  At this point in time, we have forensic evidence and eye witness statements saying it was Rebecca Angus with Ettrick directly before he was murdered.’

‘John, have you put him in the living room, he’s not in the bedroom?’ I hear Rebecca call anxiously as darkness starts to chew on the pit of my stomach.  I spin into the hallway, seeing her approach the living room door.  I know I didn’t put him in there.  I know that it wasn’t Rebecca with Ettrick, because she was with me.  Which means it must have been a woman who looks remarkably like her, probably in disguise.  A woman like Eve. 

‘He’s not in there Rebecca.’ I say, striding up to Eve’s bedroom door and flinging it open.  She follows me, standing at my shoulder as we both look at the perfectly made empty bed.

Eve is gone, and she has taken Jacob.

Chapter 25

‘That is the main order of the morning ladies and gentleman.  This is now a joint operation between the two forces, so open sharing of information and we help each other fully.  I don’t want any parochialism and glory hunting.  We’ve got enough to keep us busy without in fighting.  Do I make myself clear?’  Cruickshank shouted out to the assembled detectives in the Incident room.  A murmuring of reluctant acknowledgements surfaced around the room.  Cruickshank continued. ‘Good. We also need to ensure we are on top of everything else local to the case, so let’s do a quick round of updates and see if we have any more intel to assist us.  Trentor, is there anything from Coleen Naismith yet?  She has to be in a position to interview now?’

‘Ma’am, good news.  She is being interviewed as we speak.  The psychiatric liaison officer is with her now.  I’m hopeful that we will have something from her in the next half hour.’  Trentor relayed with obvious enthusiastic relish.

‘It will only be good news if she has something useful to tell us Trentor.  Keep your powder dry until then and as soon as you hear anything, then let me know.  Did we find anything else out about McFetrich’s movements?’  Cruickshank reproached, hooking onto the negative in the update.  Strange shot Trentor an encouraging smile as he saw the enthusiasm drain from the detective’s demeanour.

‘Nothing yet Ma’am.  His car was caught on CCTV heading out of Newcastle, but we haven’t found where he got off.  We are still looking.  We still haven’t been able to locate Sheila Warren.  She hasn’t been seen since we bailed her after the raid.  We are treating her as a missing person now and have her picture out on all the boards.’  Trentor relayed flatly and factually.

‘In other words, you found nothing useful and we also potentially have another victim.  Keep on with the CCTV search.  At least that might give us an idea about where he was killed.  Right, Gregory.  We now know the ‘Unknown man’ is called Gabriel thanks to DCI Strange.  We also know that the latest two murdered murderers had a connection with something called Unas.  Research suggests this could be a funerary cult following religious teachings documented in something called ‘Pyramid Texts’.  One of those texts is a ‘Cannibal Hymn’.  Given our Pastor Bentley is known to be a cannibal, we need to question him again.  DCI Strange will lead the interview directly after this with you in attendance.  Watch and learn Gregory.’  Cruickshank stated, glaring at the moustached detective, who nodded amiably and took a long swig of his coffee.

‘Right, any more for any more before we crack on?’  Cruickshank asked, sternly staring at each detective in turn.

Purves raised her hand.  ‘Yes Ma’am.  We’ve had a couple of bits of info back from Edinburgh Uni in the last hour.  The animal DNA they found in the samples from Jessica Seymour and Madame Evangeline are from Ophiophagus Hannah, or the King Cobra.  It is snake DNA.  They seemed to be very excited about that and said they would call back later on today when they fully understand the implications of that type of genetic manipulation.  There words, not mine.’  Purves added, looking bemusedly up at Cruickshank before continuing.  ‘Also Professor Auld from Newcastle Uni remembered the name of the person who looked like Saul.  He was called Robert Caldwell.  We are looking into that name now.  Nothing coming up on PNC so we are checking with other agencies.  I’ll keep you up to date with progress Ma’am.’

‘Excellent work Purves.  We have a name and useful forensic evidence.  If we collectively keep that kind of hit rate up, we might start to make some headway.  Right everyone.  We cannot for one second take our eye of the ball on this case.  There are far too many moving parts for us to get complacent.  All of you need to be on your ‘A’ plus game.  All of you need to deliver insight that will move this investigation to a conclusion.  Dismissed.’  Cruickshank finished, the collected detectives dispersing dejectedly, and turned to Strange, who was shaking his head disconsolately.

‘I am not saying a thing Gaynor, other than people are noticing your bias.’ Strange pre-empted when he saw the look of thunder flash over Cruickshank’s features at his head shaking.

‘You don’t need to say anything Strange, your demeanour tells me exactly what you think about how I dealt with that.  You are sailing close to a strike two, regardless of the fact we are now a joint task force.  Just be warned.  What’s your thoughts on the intel back from the University?’

‘I wouldn’t hold out much hope on the name.  We’ve seen how the Angels can get into computer systems and add, change or delete anything they want to.  Don’t get me wrong, we need to chase it up, let’s just not hold our breath.  Snake DNA.  Now that is interesting.  The blood that was poured over Michael Angus at Featherstone Hall was from snakes.  Jessica and Madame Evangeline had a snake tattooed on their abdomen.  Adam and Eve.  The Garden of Eden.  The serpent of temptation.  The emissary of sin.  I don’t know how it helps us right now, but it is certainly starting to colour the picture of The Fallen Angels and what they may believe in.’ Strange reflected, ignoring Cruickshank’s indignant dig.

‘I agree.  There’s nothing there at the moment that changes our course of action.’  Cruickshank answered with a cursory nod of acknowledgement before being distracted by DI Trentor walking excitedly back into the Incident room.  ‘Don’t tell me Trentor, you’ve forgotten something?’  Cruickshank asked, admonishment in her tone.

‘No Ma’am.  We’ve just heard back from the psychiatric liaison officer.  Coleen Naismith now has full recollection of what happened in the cave, and who did what.’  Trentor started as he arrived beside Cruickshank and Strange.

‘And!’  Cruikshank demanded as he paused for breath.

‘Desiderata Bentley had Madame Evangeline bound to the metal bench in the cave and was dismembering and sexually abusing her.  Pastor Bentley was watching.  Saul, Angus and Fenny Bentley arrived and tried to stop her.  Fenny managed to lock his father up in a cage, but then Desiderata tried to strangle him.  Angus stabbed Desiderata in the back to stop her.  Fenny knew nothing about what his father and sister were doing.  According to Naismith, he said he didn’t want to live with that knowledge and threw himself on the knife sticking out of Desiderata’s chest.  Fenny killed himself.  Another man entered the room at that point, calling himself Adam.  A man who looked exactly like John Saul.  She also mentioned that Adam talked to Saul about someone called ‘The Man Who Makes Murderers’, in reference to someone in the photographs.’ Trentor blurted out in one long breath, his face flushing red both from excited anticipation and the lack of oxygen.

Strange was about to speak, but Cruickshank shushed him and responded. ‘Trentor, that is brilliant news.  That’s the kind of lead that we need on this case.  Now that she has talked to the psychiatric team, get yourself down there, we need an official statement.  Start to probe a bit if she’s up to it.  See if she recalls anything more specific about this Adam and Madame Evangeline.  Well done.’  Cruickshank praised, forcing a broad smile awkwardly onto her face as she reached out a hand and shook Trentor’s, who looked down at his own shaking limb in obvious surprise. 

‘Thank you Ma’am.  I’ll get down to the hospital straight away.’ Trentor replied, his face unsure of how to react to the positive feedback as he turned and left the room.

‘Okay.’  Cruickshank started.  ‘We now have an eye witness who can conclusively state Angus and Saul did not murder the Bentley’s.  Angus may have killed Desiderata, but in trying to stop her killing Fenny.  Crown Prosecution Service would see that as self defence and not give us the authority to press any charges.  We can conclusively state that Saul has a twin, or perhaps a clone.  Whichever, there are two of him, which backs up everything he was telling us not only about the Fallen Angels investigation, but also the Featherstone Hall investigation.  We’ve also got another reference to this ‘man who makes murderers’ from another source.  It looks like you could be right Jerry.’  Cruickshank offered openly, without a hint of sarcasm or bitterness, only excitement an admiration singing from her tone.

‘It doesn’t change our approach though.  The facts still tell us John and Rebecca were involved in the McFetrich and Ettrick murders.  As we discussed last night, regardless if they were responsible or being played, we need to bring them in.  We need to bring them in because I have an unnerving feeling they may be very close to killing, I think that’s how far they are being pushed.  What this does do is give us ammunition to use with Pastor Bentley.  I think we might be able to break him now.  We might be able to get him to tell us who Gabriel is.  I think we have enough leverage to do that.’  Strange answered, concern dripping from every single word.

‘Gregory should have him in interview room four now, so let’s get on with it.’ Cruickshank stated simply and stomped off to the entrance of the Incident room.

Strange followed nonchalantly behind, cogitation emblazoned on his face as he hugged his files into his chest.  Cruickshank didn’t wait for him and headed straight past the Interview room to the control room. Strange stopped outside door four, composed himself, popped his earpiece in, and entered the room.  He said nothing as he sat in a hard grey plastic seat next to Gregory, not looking at Pastor Bentley who was watching his every movement in a similar chair at the opposite side of the table.  He sighed heavily as he placed the brown Manila folder on the innocuous grey table in front of him, looking at it, not Pastor Bentley.  He sat back in his seat, crossed his arms, shook his head disparagingly, tutted loudly, then looked directly into Pastor Bentley’s eyes, his gaze radiating disappointment.

‘For the benefit of the tape.  DCI Jeremiah Strange has entered the Interview room.’  Strange stated, then asked simply, ‘Do you feel safe Edward?’

Bentley’s defiant glare twitched slightly, a fleeting glimpse of confusion entering his gaze.  ‘Safe?  From you?’ he queried.

‘From anyone.  I mean, you are in a pretty secure cell in a locked down isolation facility in the middle of a police station with hundreds of officers here to keep you in, and anyone else out.  Does that make you feel safe?’  Strange reiterated.

‘Safe isn’t a feeling I pay much attention to.  I am here, that is all there is to it.’  Bentley answered.

‘I’m sure your son felt safe when he was locked up in here.  Safely away from you and his sister.  It must have been devastating for him to find out what the two of you had been up to.  It must have destroyed him to find out that he had been unwittingly complicit in leading every one of those women to you: to their deaths.  But he wasn’t safe here.  We couldn’t protect him.  We couldn’t stop the Fallen Angels getting in here and spiriting him away from right under our noses.  I don’t think we can keep you safe either.’  Strange relayed without emotion.

Bentley rocked back in his seat and let out a sardonic guffaw.  ‘Safe from the Fallen Angels?  They put me in here, why would they want to get me back out?’ 

‘Oh, not from the Fallen Angels.  From someone much worse.  From Gabriel.’

Bentley’s seat shot forward as his body straightened up, the laughter dissipating in an instant, to be replaced by a silent, cold glare.

‘I’d like to think we can protect the four of you from him, but I don’t think we can.  You see, he has already killed two of your cult in the last two days.  I say killed.  I am being disingenuous there.  He has tortured, mutilated and flayed two of your cult to death in the last two days.  He must be unhappy with you for some reason?’  Strange continued, calm and controlled.

‘Cult, what do you mean, cult?’  Bentley rumbled.

‘Oh we know who Gabriel is.  He’s the man who makes murderers.  Archbishop O’Driscoll has told us about him.  Collen Naismith, who has now told us everything that happened in the cave under your house, also remembers Adam and Madame Evangeline talking about him.  We know that he taught you how to murder.  We know that he wanted you to radicalise your faith.  We suspect that he is unhappy you have setup a religion of your own.  The cult of Unas.’

Bentley stayed silent for a moment and a look of panic strayed into his eyes, before he spoke. ‘I do not fear death.  If it is my time, it is my time.  My god will judge my worth.’

‘It’s not death you need to fear, it is dying.  To say that he killed McFetrich and Ettrick would be a gross understatement.  It fills me with mortal dread to think of the suffering they must have gone through before they died.  To have your skin flayed from your body, every single bone broken, and your internal organs removed while still alive.  Well, if that doesn’t set the fear of God into you, nothing will.  I don’t know if we can keep you safe from that.  We will try, but I don’t know how successful we will be.’  Strange added, not an ounce of malice in the words.