Nothing but Meat: A dark, heart-stopping British crime thriller (8 page)

‘It sounds like he hasn’t changed at all.’

‘He tries.’ She found herself lying again – Martin had
never openly acknowledged his problem. Why was she was defending him again? She
silently cursed herself and realised that denial was all part of the complexity
of disguise – the illusion of normality was a mask she had worn for
years. She always felt that the only thing worse than being in an abusive
relationship was the embarrassment of having people find out about it and
wondering what sort of person allows something like that to happen to them, she
didn’t want to appear weak or be thought of as a victim, especially by people
she had feelings for.

‘Enough now,’ she
said. ‘Tell me about the woman before we get there.’

‘I got the call first thing this morning. Hannah Zaragoza was
attacked in her home two weeks ago but she fought back and got away.’

‘Did she report it at the time?’

He nodded. ‘The duty officer dispatched some uniforms who
conducted an interview, she saw the news last night and reported it again, I think
she wanted to make sure that it didn’t get lost in the system.’

‘It may not be related.’

‘I know, but it’s promising, especially if she got a look at
him.’

‘Hannah’s in the back garden,’ said Christine Moody as she
led them through the house. She had opened the door clutching a limp and docile
looking child to her breast and introduced herself as Hannah Zaragoza’s sister.
‘We know it happened a few weeks ago now,’ she continued as they joined Hannah
at a shaded wooden table, ‘but I told her to call the police again and remind
them what happened when I saw the news about that girl.’ They sat down and
Christine continued. ‘I’ve been coming round here most days because you’re
still not comfortable when you’re alone are you?’

Hannah looked slightly embarrassed and said, ‘Not really.’

Simone addressed Hannah, ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m okay,’ she said. ‘I was getting on with my life but when
I heard about that girl I stared to freak out all over again.’ Even though she
was sitting down her athletic build was clearly apparent to both West and
Simone. She wore a vest top and shorts and her deep African skin shined in the
sun and complimented the defined muscles in her arms and legs.

‘I know you’ve been through this already but can you talk us
through what happened that evening?’

‘It happened a couple of weeks ago, on the fourteenth, I went
for a run at about eight-thirty, got back at about ten and had a shower. I’d
eaten earlier so after my shower I just watched some TV and went online for a
bit - the usual stuff. I called it a night at about eleven and went to bed.

‘I always have trouble sleeping when I run so close to
bedtime.’

‘Me too,’ said Simone, ‘You’d think it would be the other way
around.’

‘I wrote an article on it last year, it’s to do with a raise
in core body temperature and the fact that most people feel more energised
after a run. It’s not the same for everyone though.’

‘Do you always run so late at night?’

‘Only in the summer, it’s so hot at the moment I prefer to wait
until it cools down.’

‘How often do you run?’

‘Every other night; I go a little crazy if I miss a session.’

‘Do you run professionally? You look like you are in great
shape,’ said Simone.

‘Not professionally, but I feel like I run for a living; I’m
a writer, and I freelance for Runners World; I review sports wear and do a
couple of half-marathons a month.’

‘She puts me to shame,’ said Christine.

Hannah said, ‘Anyway, it was a hot evening and my bedroom was
uncomfortable even with the windows open. I couldn’t sleep which was frustrating
but, like I said, it wasn’t unusual. I heard the church bell chime at two in
the morning and shortly after that I heard my bedroom door slowly open. Or at
least I thought I did. You know how your mind can play tricks on you in the
middle of the night?

‘Anyway, I think I’d been drifting in and out of sleep, it
was confusing but I sat up and saw a figure standing in the room. For a split
second I didn’t think it was real but then he came at me in the darkness and I
reacted and kicked out at him; I was only sleeping under a sheet so I was
pretty free to fight back. My blow knocked him back but he jumped at me and
tried to put something over my face; a rag or a cloth, it had a vaporous,
sickly smell that was almost fruity but rotten at the same time. It was horrible
and I couldn’t help but breathe some of it in. He was obviously trying to knock
me unconscious but I can’t have inhaled enough for it to work.

‘I just started throwing punches at him; I aimed at his head
and I definitely got his nose, he yelped and I managed to push him away. As
soon as he was off me I jumped up and ran out of the bedroom; I was down the
stairs and out of the house in a flash. As soon as I got into the street I just
ran as fast as I could and I was fast, really fast, there was no way he was
going to catch me and I don’t think he even tried. I called the police from the
only phone box in the village and I hid in the darkness until they arrived.
When we went back into the house he was gone.

‘You didn’t see him when you were hiding?’

‘No I just crouched down behind a hedge shivering and hoped
no one saw me. I was naked and in shock.’

Simone hoped the officers had already asked the question and
recorded the evidence. ‘Did you scratch him at all?’

‘No, he was covered up, there wasn’t anything to scratch and
besides, I’m a nail bitter, I can’t scratch an itch.’

‘Covered up? How?’

‘He was wearing a mask. It looked tatty and like it was made
of cloth, it was pale and freaky. Ghostlike with cut outs for the eyes and
mouth.’

‘If its okay with you, I’d like to send a sketch artist round
here today so we can get an idea of what that mask looks like.’

‘No problem; I’ll be here all day.’

‘The mask is as much for effect as disguise. I can’t tell you
how brave you are fighting back like that.’

She shrugged as if it was no big deal but her eyes betrayed
her and it was clear her cool exterior was just a facade. ‘I should imagine
it’s been pretty chaotic over the last few days.’

‘You can say that again,’ said Simone.

‘I hope this is helpful, especially if it’s the same person.’

They stood to leave. ‘Thanks for contacting us again. It’s
amazing how much information can get forgotten.’

‘I’ll show you out,’ said Christine and led them towards the
front door still clutching her child.

Simone asked, ‘What’s the baby’s name?’

‘Ethan.’

‘He’s a quiet one.’

‘You couldn’t be more wrong about that; he’s got a massive
pair of lungs on him. We had him Christened only a few weeks ago and he nearly
brought the whole bloody church down the entire time.’ She looked at her child
with the loving eyes of a new mum and shifted him in her arms. ‘I can’t believe
how long he’s been asleep.’

‘Must be the heat.’

And then, as if on cue Ethan’s eyes opened and his face
instantly screwed up as he began to whimper and then his mouth opened and he
began to cry. Loudly.

‘I see what you mean,’ said West between the shrieks and
screams, they said goodbye and left the house. They could still hear the child
even in the car.

‘Brave girl,’ said Simone. ‘Strong though, athletic and fast
too, he picked the wrong one there, nothing about her said victim. Nothing.’

‘She was lucky. If he’d managed to smother her it wouldn’t
have mattered how strong she was, she’d be finished.’

‘He made a mistake that night and got away with it.
Unfortunately for Victoria he got it right the next time.
’

8

The station was buzzing with activity when they returned from
Hannah Zaragoza’s house. Jackson walked into West’s temporary office.
‘Updates?’ he said, he was clearly stressed and looked tired, West in contrast seemed
calm and collective, he was on edge but seemed to be in full control.

‘We’ve just got back from interviewing Hannah Zaragoza.
Simone has organised for a sketch artist to go round there today but she said
his face was covered by a mask.’

‘It was distinctive,’ said Simone feeling the need to defend
her actions after suddenly realising how silly it sounded; arranging to send an
artist to a witness’s house to sketch a masked man. ‘Zaragoza said it was made
of tatty cloth, with cut-outs for eyeholes. Someone may have seen it laying
around and recognise it.’

‘You think it’s the same man?’ said Jackson.

‘I’d bet my tiny salary on it,’ West said.

Simone noticed Jackson was holding a folder. ‘Do we have the
forensics report on the Redman corpse yet?’

Jackson nodded and passed her the folder and as she opened it
he paraphrased its contents for them. ‘The girl died from massive blood loss
due to the fact that the bastard sliced her face off. She was alive when it
happened; most likely bound with thin rope; bruising on her arms, wrists and
ankles is consistent with such bindings. The coroner believes a curved blade
was used; apparently there were characteristic scratches on the bone.’

Simone flicked to the autopsy photographs while Jackson
continued. ‘The same blade was used to carve the word ‘sow’ into her back.’

‘S-o-w?’ said West.

Jackson nodded. Simone passed the photographs to West one by
one; close ups of Victoria Redman’s back, the letters hacked into her flesh in
deep straight lines.

‘Sow; a female pig,’ said Simone. ‘Woman hater?’

‘Maybe,’ West said thoughtfully. ‘Was she sexually assaulted?’
he said to Jackson.

‘No, she wasn’t.’

‘Small mercy. What about trace evidence?

‘Some,’ said Jackson, ‘notably limestone dust all over her
skin and hair, she also had splashes of dried candlewax on her skin and on the
back of her hands.’

‘Was there anything unusual about the candlewax?’

‘No, it was just white, unscented candlewax.’

‘Anything else?’

‘There were traces of ethanol and sulphuric acid in her
bloodstream; they’re the basic ingredients used to make a delightful little
cocktail called diethyl ether. It’s likely he used it to render her
unconscious.’

‘What does ether smell like?’ asked Simone.

‘No idea; I’ll find out for you.’

‘Hannah Zaragoza said the man that attacked her tried to
smother her with a foul smelling rag as she fought him off.’

‘Brave but lucky too, if he’d got her with that she wouldn’t
have stood a chance,’ Jackson said. He turned to leave but changed his mind.
‘How’s your father?’ he said to West.

‘Not doing so good.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I appreciate your input on this
West.’

West ignored Jackson’s sympathy. ‘I think we should bring Rupert
James in for questioning.’

‘The one who found the Redman girl?’

‘Yeah, he didn’t do it but he’s hiding something.’

‘Do you want to talk to him?’

‘Not necessarily, get someone to sweat him for a while, see
what comes out. He may have seen more than he’s willing to admit. The time
frame seems wrong, I think he was bullshitting us because the wife might find
out about what he gets up to in the woods at night.’

‘I got the feeling she knows exactly what his nocturnal
habits are,’ said Simone, ‘and that she may be involved.’

‘Sounds to me like they’re more bothered
about what the neighbours will think than they are helping us catch a killer,’
said Jackson as he headed for the door.
‘I’ll have James here this afternoon.’ He left and as
the door clicked shut West sat down with a sigh, tipped his head back and
massaged the bridge of his nose.

‘You tired?’ she said.

‘A bit, there’s a lot going on.’ He took his lighter out and
started to flick the lid back and forth.

Click, ting, snap
.

‘I don’t know how you manage,’ she said.

‘There’s always a lot going on. It’s the distractions that
are the hardest to deal with. Focus is everything.’

‘Still, I’m impressed.’

‘Don’t be.’

She sat down with the autopsy report and started to thumb
through it. She made notes on a pad as she read.

Limestone

Curved blade

The word: sow

Candlewax

Ethanol+Sulphuric acid.
Diethyl ether?

West tapped the table quickly, impatiently, drawing her
attention from the report. She heard him say, ‘Focus,’ quietly to himself and
he chewed his bottom lip quickly before jumping up. ‘Listen, Simone, I’m going
to take an early lunch; I’ve got some things to take care of.’

‘Okay.’

‘Do you want me to get you anything while I’m out?’

‘No, I’m good.’

‘See you later,’ he said and in a blink he was gone.

Simone spent some time sifting through the report and making
notes and when she finished she tossed it on the desk and went for a coffee.
She was in the main office chatting with Lucy when she thought she caught sight
of Mr James being escorted to the interview rooms. It was just a fleeting
glimpse but it was enough for her to follow their direction. Jackson was
already in the viewing room when she entered.

‘You got my message?’
he said.

‘No sir, I saw him from across the office.’ She nodded in the
direction of Mr James and they watched him take a seat though the viewing pane.
‘You got him here quick enough.’

‘It had nothing to do with me Connelly. He came in on his own
accord.’

‘Really? That’s interesting.’

‘Where’s West?’

‘He had some things to take care of but he’ll be back soon.’
Simone tried not to make it sound like she was making excuses for him. Jackson
grumbled to himself but let it go. Simone knew Jackson was well aware that even
though West was coping with extreme circumstances he was giving his time to the
case and leniency was the only fair option. West didn’t need to take any of
Jackson’s bullshit and Jackson knew it. West could easily walk away from the
case if he wanted and not suffer any repercussions from the top brass.

West arrived back at the station shortly after the interview
with James had ended. Jackson made no comment on the amount of time West had taken
but his sentences were clipped; amounted to little more than: ‘You missed the
interview.’ And ‘Get Connelly to fill you in on the details.’

Simone directed West swiftly into their office because not
only could she see in his eyes that West didn’t give a shit about Jackson’s
attitude towards him but because she could smell the sweet musk of burnt wood
on his clothes, skin and hair and she didn’t want anyone else to notice it.

Simone sat on the desk and West reclined in his seat and
said, ‘So tell me, what was James hiding and why did he spill his guts without being
squeezed?’

‘Very little of what he originally told us was true and our
instincts were pretty much bang on.’

‘Go on.’

‘Mr and Mrs James have an appetite for alfresco sex and whereas
you or I may find Bishop’s Thorpe Wood to be a fairly spooky place to be in the
dead of night, the James’s use it as their second bedroom. They like to be, and
I quote, ‘Deep in the woods, amongst the trees.’’

‘Forget dogging in the car park.’

‘That’s something they also indulge in, but only occasionally
apparently.’

‘Different strokes for different folks.’

‘They were in the woods on the night they found Redman’s
corpse, they were mid-coitus when a man appeared from the darkness and watched
their indulgences. They knew he was there but it didn’t stop them, they’ve been
watched before and James is sure it’s always by the same man. He never usually
speaks or gets particularly close to them and he never touches himself or makes
any effort to join in. He just covers his face with his hand and watches
silently. If that’s not strange I don’t know what is.’

‘Usually. You said he never usually speaks or gets close to
them.’

‘Well, considering they didn’t know what they were going to
find later on they didn’t think the evening to be unusual in any way except that
this time the man came closer than ever before and squatted down on his
haunches while he watched them. They finished and he left as silently as he
arrived.’

‘Description.’

‘Sketchy at best; he was dressed entirely in black, with a
hooded top and a baseball cap and he kept his face covered with his hand. James
couldn’t describe him any better than that.’

‘Fucking great. What about the body?’

‘As if their behaviour wasn’t strange enough it turns out
that they also took Chester the dog with them. They were telling the truth
about that. They tied him to a tree while they romped on a picnic blanket and
then afterwards they finished his walk by torch light. The dog finds the corpse
and goes mental - ’

‘Whereupon they shit themselves,’ said West, ‘but know
they’ll have to report it, so they concoct a flimsy story in the hope the
neighbours won’t find out about the things they get up to at night.’

She nodded. ‘It’s pretty much as we suspected, but you asked
why he chose to spill his guts voluntarily.’

‘Go on.’

‘Pure fear. They’ve been on edge since Mrs James discovered
something in her jacket pocket earlier this morning when she went to wash it.’

West sat forward in his chair, Simone waited, holding his
attention. They both knew she was deliberately teasing him with the details of
the interview.

‘It was the jacket she wore into the woods that night,’ she
said, ‘the one that was strewn on the ground where our voyeur squatted down to
watch the show. It’s put the fear of God into them and I can see why.’

‘What did she find?’

She waited a beat, relishing West’s focus. ‘A human tooth.
One of the front ones; an incisor to be precise.’ She tapped her own for
effect. ‘He slipped it silently into her pocket like a gift.’

‘Where is it now?’

‘The lab. Don’t worry; it’s top priority.’

‘Is it Redman’s?’

‘One hundred per cent no. All Redman’s teeth were intact.’

‘He may be more experienced than we first thought.’

Simone agreed just as the phone rang, startling them both.
West snatched it from its cradle and put it on speakerphone, it was Jackson.
‘You wanted to know what ether smells like,’ he said.

‘Go on.’

‘It’s sweet, but foul, like rotten cabbage.’

West looked at Simone. ‘Sounds familiar,’ he said. ‘Is it
easy to make?’

‘With the right ingredients unfortunately so, but it’s nasty
stuff.’

‘Zaragoza said the rag smelt sweet. It’s definitely our man.
We need to know what industries and hobbies, if any, use those chemicals.’

‘I agree; I’ll get some people on it.’

‘We also don’t know our killer’s agenda so it might be worth
organising protection for the James house.’

‘I’m ahead of you West; it’s already in hand.’

He hung up and they sat in silence for a while, Simone looked
at West he seemed a lot calmer since he had returned and she considered
mentioning the smell of smoke that clung to West’s clothes but decided against
it. She could guess what he had been doing and was surprised he hadn’t made
more of an effort to cover it up; she trusted he no longer posed the sort of
danger he used to when he was younger.

Starting fires was his one true vice; it was an addiction
that plagued him from youth and had shaped the direction of his life.

And Simone’s too.