The Border: The Complete Series (45 page)

Feeling a vibration in his pocket, he took out his phone and saw that Beth was calling.

“Hey,” he said as he answered, “what's up?”

As soon as he opened the front door, he froze at the sound of a woman crying hysterically.

For a moment, all Ben could do was stand in the empty hallway and listen to the sound of pure, unrestrained grief. He'd run all the way to the house, convinced that there had to be some kind of mistake, but now with a sense of pure cold steel in his chest he realized it was true.

It
had
to be true.

The cry was Jane's, and it was almost like the primal wail of an animal. In all his life, he'd never heard such a vast amount of pain being expressed in one haunting, horrified voice. He wanted to turn back, to run until he couldn't hear her anymore, to put his hands over his ears... At the same time, he forced himself to keep listening, to expose himself to the sound of a woman who'd just been told that her husband was dead.

A moment later, Bob stepped into view, tapping at his phone before spotting Ben in the doorway. His ashen, hungover features seemed to exaggerate his stubble.

“Ben -”

“I know,” Ben replied, his voice rigid with shock and anger.

“Buddy, listen -”

“I know,” Ben said again, making his way past Bob until he reached the door and saw an empty kitchen. “Jack's dead.”

“Audrey's with Jane and Beth in the bedroom,” Bob said a couple of seconds later. “She's trying to... I don't know, really, she's just trying to do
something
. The kids were already at a friend's house when the news came through, I don't really know what to do about that. Should I go over and get them, or should I wait and...”

His voice trailed off.

“I mean, if I go,” he continued finally, “I guess I'd have to tell them about Jack. I don't know if I can do that. I mean, it's not that I'm shirking the responsibility, it's just that I think their mother should be the one who tells them. Plus, if I fetch Stuart and Oliver, I guess I have to fetch Lucy too, and I don't know how much she really knows about death yet. Jesus Christ, do you see the problem here? I mean, hell, what are we gonna do about the kids?”

“Where is he?” Ben whispered, his face seeming a little more gaunt now, as if some part had been drained away to leave only anger.

“Where's who?” Bob asked.

“Jack. Where's Jack?”

“Ben, Jack's dead.”

“I know that, you goddamn idiot.” He took a deep breath, forcing his anger to stay beneath the surface. “Where's his body?”

“I don't know. I guess... I guess they took him to the morgue, or to the hospital, or...” He paused. “Ben, I'm so sorry. I don't even know what happened, just that Jane got a call and -”

“I know,” Ben replied, turning and heading back to the front door. The sound of Jane's sobs was starting to drill into the center of his mind, and he felt as if he had to get away. Even if he regretted it later, even if it made him a weak person, he had to run. Somehow, he felt he'd rather be with his brother's silent corpse than hear another moment of his sister-in-law's frantic sobs.

“Ben -”

“I'm going to find him,” Ben said, hurrying away from the house. “I have to see for myself.”

“What should I do?” Bob called after him. “Should I stay here? What about the kids? Should I get the kids?” He waited for a reply, but Ben already heading along the sidewalk and finally disappeared from view. Sighing, Bob paused for a moment before heading back into the house. Lacking any better ideas, he leans against the wall in the hallway and started tapping at his phone again.

***

“If you look here,” Doctor Tomlin said, using the tip of a scalpel to indicate the damaged flesh around the edge of Jack's chest, “you'll see that the incision was very quick and clean. This wasn't someone who hesitated. I'd hazard a guess that it was someone with experience, someone who knew what they wanted and how to get it.”

Alex tried to focus on the wound, but he couldn't help glancing at Jack's still, pale face.

“Even if we didn't know about Joe Baldwin's involvement in the Armitage and Maitland cases,” Tomlin continued, “I'd already be telling you that Jack was killed by someone else. Jack's body has none of the sloppy savagery that we saw in those poor girls. In fact, now that the contrast is right in front of me, I've gone back and looked at the files from the Caitlin Somers murder and I think...” He paused. “Well, if I had to take an educated guess, I'd say that Jack was killed by -”

“The same person who killed Caitlin,” Alex whispered, staring at Jack's face.

“That's not quite what I -”

“It's clear enough,” Alex replied, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm the sense of nausea in his belly. “This would've been quick, though, wouldn't it? Jack wouldn't have suffered?”

He waited for a reply, but Tomlin's silence was enough of an answer.

“He'd have suffered?” Alex asked.

“It's hard to see him not being at least somewhat aware,” Tomlin replied, “in his final moments. It would have been quick, but not quick enough that Jack would have... I mean, he'd have understood what as happening to him, right at the end.”

“Jesus,” Alex whispered, as a shudder passed through his body.

“Now this might seem fanciful,” Tomlin continued finally, to break the silence, “but if you look at the wounds on the victim's belly and chest...” He indicated the couple of dozen red slits in Jack's body. “I think there's a pattern. I can't say what the pattern
is
yet, or whether it represents anything specific, but I certainly think it's worth looking into. I've already mapped the wounds, I'll get that file to you. I just don't think the killer was randomly knifing him. I think there was method in this insanity.”

Hearing a door opening in the next room, Alex turned just in time to see Ben hurrying into view. Stopping in the doorway, Ben froze as soon as he saw his brother's body on the slab.

“You're not supposed to be here,” Alex said, hurrying over and putting a hand on Ben's chest, trying to force him back.

“The hell I'm not,” Ben replied, slipping past and heading to the top of the slab. “He's my brother.
Was
my brother. Is still.” He reached down to touch the side of Jack's face, before thinking better of it and pulling his hand away. “He was my brother a long time ago.”

“You shouldn't be in here,” Alex said firmly. “Ben, come on, let's -”

“It was the guy with the mask, wasn't it?”

“I...” Alex paused. “I'm sorry?”

“The guy with the mask,” Ben continued, still staring down at Jack's dead face. “You know, the one with the stag bits glued to his goddamn head. It was the freak with the mask, which means...” He swallowed hard. “Jack probably couldn't even see the guy's face. You can't even see the eyes through that mask, not properly. Jack probably thought it was me.”

“That's a bit of a leap,” Alex said cautiously. “Ben, let's go across the street and -”

“You saw the paper today, didn't you?” Ben asked, looking along at the hole in Jack's chest. “He had no doubts at all. The odds are, he thought I was the one who did this to him.”

“I'm sure he knows now, Ben, that -”

“He doesn't know anything now.”

“He's in a better place.”

“He's right here!” Ben shouted, taking a step toward Alex as his rage threatened to explode. After a moment, he turned back to look at Jack. “He's not in a better place. He's right here in front of me, I can see his goddamn lifeless corpse.” Leaning across the table, he looked into his brother's chest and saw the gap where the heart should have been. His initial reaction was to pull back, but he forced himself to keep looking. After a moment, he began to imagine the heart being cut out and the warm blood flowing free.

“Where were you last night, Ben?” Alex asked after a moment.

Slowly, Ben turned to him.

“Jesus,” Tomlin muttered, turning and pretending to be busy with some tools on the counter.

“I need to know,” Alex continued. “You're not the only one, Ben. I need to ask a lot of people the same question.”

“Maybe this isn't the right time,” Tomlin suggested.

“No,” Ben said, stepping toward Alex, “it's definitely the right time. I was out last night murdering my brother, obviously. Where was the body found, exactly? Wherever it was, I was right there. What kind of knife did the killer use? Let me know and I'll go get one and stick in my pocket for you to find!”

“Ben -” Alex began.

“Don't believe me?” Ben asked, angrily pushing Alex back against the wall. “What's wrong, are all your theories falling apart? Are you starting to wonder whether maybe you got everything wrong?”

“Ben, please,” Alex replied, trying to ease him back. “You're upset, you're in shock -”

“Do you
think
so?” Ben shouted, pushing him harder against the wall. “Really, old man, do you think I'm angry? What gave it away?”

Alex opened his mouth to reply, but at first he was too shocked to say anything. “I know you're angry,” he managed finally, his voice flecked with doubt, “but Ben, listen to me, I know you're upset and you're... furious, and shocked.” He waited for Ben to reply, while not daring to try pushing him away. “You're hurt, and you're confused, and -”

“What are you, a walking thesaurus?” Ben asked.

“Listen -”

“Shut up! Just shut the hell up! Nothing you say ever really helps anyone in this town, does it? You just strut around in your badly-fitting uniform, making everyone feel safe while the Devil stands right behind them!”

“This isn't the place to have this discussion,” Alex replied, before clearing his throat. “Let's go to my office and talk there, Ben. Okay? We won't go into the interview room, you're not under arrest, let's just go and talk. Please, we shouldn't be arguing right next to your brother's... right next to your brother. It's not decent.”

“I'm angry,” Ben replied, his eyes filled with cold fury. “Well that's good. You finally noticed. It only took you a decade or so. Now you just need to work out
why
I'm angry.”

“Your brother just -”

“It's not that,” he continued. “Really, it's not.”

Stepping back, he glanced down at Jack for a moment, before turning and heading to the door.

“Where are you going?” Alex called after him.

“You said I'm not under arrest,” Ben replied.

“You're not, but I still want to talk to you.” Hurrying after him, Alex followed him through to the reception area. “Ben, we owe it to your brother to make sure his killer is brought to justice.”

“You don't have a hope,” Ben muttered, pushing the door open and stepping out onto the street. “You're just saying those words 'cause you know you're supposed to.”

“Ben -”

“It's the Border!” Ben shouted, turning to him. “The stag-headed man comes from the Border! Do those words mean anything to you at all?”

He waited for a reply.

“Do you know about the stag-headed man?” he continued.

Alex paused. “I... The what?”

“And the Border?”

“I don't have a clue what you're talking about,” Alex stammered.

“I've seen him,” Ben continued. “Sort of, anyway. I've seen the mask, I've seen enough to know what the hell he looks like, and I've seen enough of that place to know it should have been destroyed a long, long time ago, but it has the perfect defense mechanism. It makes everyone look the other way.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asked. “You're not making any sense.”

Ben stared at him for a moment, before allowing a faint, bitter smile to cross his lips. “You really
don't
know, do you?” he asked finally. “I always wondered whether maybe you were just really good at covering your tracks. I figured there was no way you could be completely ignorant of what's happening right here in Bowley, but I guess I gave you too much credit, even then. You
honestly
don't have a clue, do you? This whole goddamn thing has just gone sailing over your head for decades. Or rather, under your feet.”

“What are you talking about?” Alex asked, sounding increasingly exasperated as he loosened the top button of his suddenly-too-tight shirt. “Can you
please
just come to my office and explain?”

“No,” Ben replied, “I don't think I can. I think you need to do whatever you're supposed to do in a situation like this, and just be
glad
that you're ignorant, because if you knew what was really going on here, what was really hiding under the surface in Bowley, your heart would break. And that's the problem, really. When your heart is broken, you need to find some way to hold it together. If you need a tip, I find anger does the job pretty damn well.”

Alex watched as Ben walked away.

“What do you mean?” he called out after a moment, but he made no attempt to go after Ben and ask again. Somehow, deep down, he felt as if he'd just come close to learning the truth about the darkness he'd occasionally sensed. He'd always told himself that he was imagining things, that Bowley wasn't a town with secrets, but now he felt pure fear in his chest at the thought that Ben knew more than he was letting on. Shaken, he turned and headed to his office. Coffee, he figured, might help him to calm down.