Taboo (10 page)

‘Why not?’

‘Well, it was so early, I didn’t want to go barging over and interrupt anyone’s privacy. I called Banjo again, he was sniffing around the side of the tent and then he cocked his leg on it.’

‘I was mortified,’ Rebecca said, looking less pale as a slight blush crossed her cheeks. ‘Little did I know …’

‘Go on,’ Chris urged.

She continued speaking. ‘I called him again, this time more firmly and walked over with the lead, it was then I—’ She stared at the back of the seat and tears pooled in her eyes. ‘When I saw the man’s legs in the doorway I just thought he was asleep.’ She shook her head, and Mark patted her hand for reassurance.

‘When I reached Becky’s side and saw Banjo sniffing the guy’s shoes I thought it was sort of funny. That was before she started to scream.’ He paused and looked away, reliving the memory. ‘I ran over and saw rats at the guy’s neck … maggots moving … and then the smell.’ Mark rubbed the side of his face as if trying to remove any lingering traces of the deathly air he’d breathed. ‘Then I threw up,’ he added, somewhat ashamed.

Always the blokes,
Chris thought, wryly.

Reliving the scene was obviously taking its toll on Rebecca and she was sobbing gently. ‘What do you think happened to him? I mean, that look on his face … and the way his arm was pointing …’

‘It’s too early to make any assumptions at this stage,’ Chris soothed, cringing slightly as he knew he sounded like a press officer throwing out sound bites to dodge the question. But the truth was there
was
no room for speculation.

Kennedy studied his notes. ‘Can I just clarify a point before we go any further? You
said, when you first saw the tent – quote: “I didn’t want to go barging over and interrupt anyone’s privacy.” So you thought there was more than one person, correct?’

‘Well, yes,’ Mark confirmed. ‘When I said that I just meant that I naturally assumed it would be more than one, what with the size of the tent and the amount of gear lying around.’

‘Did you see anybody else in or around the campsite, or pass by anyone going to or from the scene?’ he queried.

‘No, there was nobody else around; we didn’t meet another soul on the walk. Sometimes you might, but it was so early, not to mention it’s a pretty unknown area round here, most people are drawn to the more popular walks like
Glendalough.’

‘How did you alert the authorities?’ Chris continued.

‘I had my phone but there’s no signal up here so we went back to the car as quick as we could and drove until we got one.’

Rebecca spoke while looking in the direction of the white illuminated forensic tent, which looked so out of place in the surroundings. ‘After we called in the report and gave directions, we
traveled back up to the car park to wait for the first officers to arrive like the lady on the phone told us. Then, when they arrived it was dark and Mark showed them the way.’

He nodded. ‘I actually wasn’t sure if I’d find the trail again so I brought Banjo hoping he’d lead the way back in.’

‘Looks like we have a police dog in the makings,’ Kennedy quipped, reaching in to pet the terrier’s head, but Banjo quickly flashed a sideways snap at his hand.

‘Fuck me!’ he cried, massaging his hand, even though no contact had been made.

‘Banjo! Oh, I’m so sorry.’ Rebecca said, coloring.

‘
Don’t worry, Detective Kennedy often has that effect on people too,’ Chris said wryly, hoping to relieve the tension. ‘Thanks for that; I think we have all we need for now. You’ve been most helpful and here’s my card just in case anything else springs to mind.’ The couple looked relieved and he and Kennedy shook their hands, all the while trying to keep out of range of the little terrier. ‘I’ll get one of the Mountain Rescue guys to drop you back to your car.’

He knew that there was in reality very little light these people could shed on what had unfolded here; once again, there would be no quick and easy solution.

And until they could find one, this misfortunate camper was simply another addition to the city’s burgeoning crime statistics.

Darkness had fallen and Mike Steel was just about to settle down to a well-earned cold beer when he heard the scream.

‘
Goddamnit!’ He got up from the sofa and headed down the hallway toward the source. ‘What’s going on?’ he grunted, switching on the overhead light.

‘
Monstaw – in the closet,’ Jessica announced, the 3-year-old’s fluffy blond head barely visible above the bedclothes. Her blue eyes were wide with fear as she pointed to one corner of the small room.

Sighing, Mike shook his head from side to side. ‘Jess, honey, we talked about this before, didn’t we?’ He went to the closet and opened the doors. ‘There are no monsters in there – look, it’s just your clothes and your toys, nothing else.’

The toddler shook her head in defiance. ‘See shaw him too!’ she insisted, pointing her stubby finger accusingly at her sister in the bed opposite.

‘Did she now?’ Mike raised an eyebrow at her.
‘Reilly? What’s going on?’

‘Look, I’m sorry, OK?’ Reilly shrugged guiltily, her eyes downcast. ‘I was trying to get to sleep, and she was driving me nuts, yacking on and on … So, I told her that if she didn’t shut up, the monsters would come out and get her.’

Mike’s jaw tightened. ‘Christ, I don’t need this shit …’

He sat at the side of Jessica’s bed and gathered her into his arms before softly stroking her downy curls.

‘Want Mommy,’ the little girl moaned into his chest.

Me too
, Reilly thought, sadly.

‘Don’t want the
monstaw to get me, Daddy.’

‘Hey, nobody’s going to get you, OK?
Whose gonna get past a big, strong guy like me?’ At this, a faint smile appeared on Jessica’s face. ‘Anyway, remember what I said before, OK? There are no monsters in that closet. Your sister was just playing tricks on you. And your mom should be back soon.’

‘I was only joking,’ Reilly said. ‘Sorry, Jess.’

‘OK,’ Apparently satisfied, Jessica nodded before yawning widely.

‘Now, try and get some sleep, honey. Your sister has to be up early for school in the morning and she needs to rest too.’

‘Will you stay with me, Daddy?’ Jessica’s eyes were huge as she stared mournfully up at him.

‘Of course I will,’ Mike held her close and continued to rub her back, hoping to soothe her into slumber. ‘I’ll stay as long as you like.’

For a short while, there was silence in the small bedroom as they waited for Jess to go to sleep.

‘Look, try not to scare your little sister like that, OK?’ Mike whispered when the toddler eventually drifted off. ‘The last monster in the closet was there almost six months before he left and I can’t be dealing with a new one right now. I’ve got too much going on, honey.’

Duly chastened, Reilly hung her head. ‘I know, I’m sorry.’

She
was
sorry too but Jess was really starting to get on her nerves with her stupid singing and dancing and endless jabbering about nothing. Reilly wished she could have a room of her own, but their house was just too small for that, and although she wasn’t supposed to know it, anyone could tell that money was tight.

‘Dad?’ she asked. ‘You said Mom will be home soon – is that true?’

Mike sighed and Reilly’s face fell, realizing that he’d only said this to make Jess feel better. Cassie, their mom, sometimes went away for a little while before reappearing again. When this happened, nobody ever seemed to know where she’d gone or when she’d be coming back. But, according to Mike, Cassie just got sad sometimes and needed to be by herself. ‘I certainly hope so, sweetheart.’

There was silence in the room for a moment.

‘Hey, I know Jess can be an almighty pain in the ass sometimes, but don’t forget she’s only three and she doesn’t mean any harm.’ Carefully lifting the now-sleeping Jessica out of his arms, he lay her back down and gently covered her with the blankets.

‘I know.’

Mike then moved to sit on the edge of Reilly’s bed. ‘So, from now on, promise you’ll help me convince your little sister that there are no monsters and she’s got nothing to worry about, OK?’

‘OK.’

A few minutes later, when her dad had left the room, Reilly was just about to nod off when she heard an all-too-familiar voice. ‘Wiley?’ her little sister called out in a tentative whisper. ‘Wiley? Are you awake?’

‘What now?’ she groaned, turning her back to her. She couldn’t believe that Jess was awake again. Two minutes ago, when her dad had left the room she looked to be dead to the world.

‘Are there really no monstaws? No monstaws in the whole wide world?’

In the darkness, Reilly rolled her eyes, wishing her little sister would just shut the hell up. Then remembering that her dad had asked for her help, she spoke softly. ‘Yeah, Jess, Dad was right. Just go back to sleep, OK?’ She pulled the bedclothes tightly around her and closed her eyes. ‘There really are no monsters – none in the whole wide world.’

The dream – the one of her and Jess as kids – she hadn’t had that one in a while. Afterward, it was the scene that kept coming back to her, the one she kept replaying over and over in her head and in her sleep – the one in which she’d promised her sister that there were no monsters, no bad guys, and that no one could harm her.

She bit her lip. If only they knew.

Reilly got up out of bed, unsettled that the dreams were starting to come back with increasing frequency. Maybe she should think about taking the advice Dr Kyle had given before she left California about seeing someone here. But she was fine, wasn’t she? Anyway, she really didn’t need – or want – to try and explain it all
to some strange Dublin shrink who knew nothing about her or her family, and probably wouldn’t be able to understand her fears anyhow. As it was, Reilly could barely understand them herself.

She went into the kitchen and set about grounding some coffee beans, unwilling to let thoughts of her past get her down. Measuring out exactly a tablespoon, she took a deep breath, and allowed the rich aroma of freshly ground beans to fill her senses. Some people liked to grind them the night before as a timesaver, but Reilly knew that once the beans were ground there was a lot more surface area exposed to the air and this was how much of the flavour escaped, so what was the point?

No, Reilly was firmly of the belief that good coffee shouldn’t be rushed and having poured in enough water for a single cup, she loaded the percolator and waited patiently for the grounds to pass through.

The reason she took it black wasn’t (as Kennedy thought) because she was a health freak but simply because this was a sure-fire way of ruining good coffee. People who added sugar or anything else were just trying to mask stuff that was badly made.

She took a sip and almost immediately felt re-energized and ready for the day ahead. Last night had been another late one at the lab, but this morning she wanted to get there early to review the inventory and postmortem report  the ME’s office would be sending over from the camper murder. Not that she could expect to find much – thanks to those dumbass hikers who’d trooped all over the place.

She had only been at the lab for a couple of minutes and was casting an eye over some recent paperwork when she got a call from Karen Thompson.

‘Hey, good hearing from you,’ Reilly said in greeting. ‘Unless you’re calling about a delay, that is.’ Her voice was light and she knew the woman wouldn’t take offence.

‘Actually, I hate to bother you with this,’ the pathologist replied, tentatively, ‘and normally I wouldn’t ask but …’

‘What’s up, Karen?’ From her tone, Reilly immediately knew that something wasn’t right. Damn, she really hoped it wasn’t a delay.

‘Well, it’s from the
postmortem I did on that camper …’

‘Sure. Good timing, actually – it seems we’ve just got a positive ID on him: Gerry Watson, twenty-six years old, from the
Dundrum area,’ Reilly told her, reading from the file. ‘No criminal links that we know of but Delaney and Kennedy are still checking that out. I’ll fax through the details for your records as soon as I can. What have you got?’

‘Well, there’s a particular sample here I want you to take a closer look at. I have a sneaking suspicion as to what it is, but I’d like to make sure before I finalize my report.’ Reilly raised an eyebrow. Karen’s usually assured tone sounded very off and she wondered what was up. ‘Now, I know you’re very busy, but if you could fast-track this one for me, I’d appreciate it.’

‘Of course. So did you find something interesting?’

‘You could say that,’ the doctor’s voice was grave. ‘Official cause of death was from the gunshot wound of course,’ Karen reiterated,
then paused again before continuing. ‘It’s what I found in the vomit and stomach contents that I’d like your opinion on. It’s undigested and … well, I think it might be better if I just let you take a look for yourself.’

‘OK, I was expecting something from the lab today on this anyway, but do you want to send your sample over this morning and we can compare? We inventoried a frying pan from there that had been recently used – our guys are looking into what had been cooked. I’ll get them to take a look at yours too, and between us we should be able to find out what they were eating.’

Karen gulped. ‘To be honest, Reilly, I think I already have a pretty good idea.’

‘No way. No fucking
way
. That’s sick!’ Kennedy paced around the incident room, his face purple with disgust. In his hand was the report the GFU had just faxed over to them. ‘It’s fucking sick, that’s what it is.’

Chris sat at his desk just as stunned, telephone receiver still in hand.

‘Reilly, are you absolutely sure?’ he asked, knowing that the question was pointless, never mind redundant. He’d known her just long enough to realize that when it came to forensic analysis Reilly Steel was not the type to make mistakes. Still, he’d phoned her office in the vain hope that this
was
a mistake, or that there had been some explicable mix-up.

‘I’m absolutely sure,’ she told him. ‘And Karen is too. She had
her suspicions, that’s why she had us double-check the sample this morning. It is what it is, Chris. The evidence doesn’t lie.’

Chris pictured Gerry Watson’s body at the campsite, pictured the used frying pan on the stove. ‘But how?’ he asked, hoping that she at least might be able to make sense of it. ‘And why?’

‘I guess we’d have to ask the killer that question,’ she replied, grimly. ‘Karen’s still putting the finishing touches to the postmortem report – she just needed clarification from us on this first – so you should know more soon. We’re running further tests on the sample so we can find out exactly what was on the menu.’

Considering the discovery, Chris was astonished at the dearth of emotion in her voice. Reilly was discussing this like it was just another piece of evidence, something ordinary but curious, like that unidentified paint and hair sample she’d found before. A stark contrast to him and Kennedy, who upon reading the report had been so shocked and repulsed
it was a few minutes before either of them could speak.

‘Reilly,’ he had to ask. ‘Have you ever found … I mean would you have come across something …’ his throat dry, he swallowed hard, ‘… something like this before?’

He could almost sense her shrug on the other end of the line. ‘A couple of times at Quantico and once back home. The FBI did a lot of work with the German Government a couple of years back on that guy Armin Meiwes. Ever heard of him?’

The name didn’t immediately ring a bill with Chris.

‘He put an ad out on the Internet for a willing victim, some guy responded – wholeheartedly, apparently. Either he genuinely liked the idea, or maybe he didn’t think Meiwes was being serious. It took the courts ages to get a conviction on Meiwes, and from what I heard, the investigation was so disturbing some of the German cops needed lifelong counseling after it.’

Delaney swallowed.
Now
he remembered. ‘Jesus. Let’s hope we don’t have something like that on our hands,’ he finally responded. He didn’t want to even contemplate the media hysteria, or the general public’s reaction to this one.

‘Cannibalism is not as uncommon as you think, Detective,’ Reilly continued. ‘And in this line of work, you eventually come across all sorts.’