The Border: The Complete Series (7 page)

“I know that, Bob.”

He nodded. “Good. So where's he staying? It sure as well won't be here.”

“He's going to stay with Jack and Jane.”

“Ha. Well I'm sure they'll love having Crazy Ben in the spare room. I'd love to have seen Jane's face when she found out.” He paused. “And Jack's. I mean, he's got some pretty wild theories about Ben, hasn't he? I remember that night he got a little drunk at your mother's birthday party and started running through these timelines. He's actually got notebooks, do you know that? Little journals with all his theories and ideas. I just to think he was joking about all that stuff, but now I think he might be serious.”

She stared at him for a moment, before slowly getting up and making her way over to the door. “I have to get Lucy ready for school.”

“You sure you're okay, Beth?” Bob called after her. “You're acting a little weird this morning. I hope I didn't accidentally do anything to upset you.”

“No,” she replied. “You didn't accidentally do anything.”

“You should get some rest,” he added. “You look tired.”

“Thanks.”

Heading out into the hallway, she stopped once she was out of sight, and finally she looked down. Opening her right hand, she saw two trickles of blood running from beneath the broken safety pin she'd been clutching. While she was talking to Bob, the pain of clenching her fist tight around the pin had been the only thing keeping her from screaming.

“You look tired,” Alex said as he watched Jane at the coffee machine. “Are you sure you're up to this today?”

“I'm fine,” she lied, filling a cup with lukewarm coffee. “I just didn't get much sleep last night.”

“Problem?”

She turned to him. “No, Sir. Just...” For a moment, she considered telling him about her brother-in-law's impending return to town, and she knew that Alex would find the news interesting. Still, she figured there was a danger of blowing the whole thing up out of all proportion,and she didn't fancy a whole morning of Ben-centric smalltalk, not when she was facing the same thing when she got home. “Nothing. I'm totally on it.”

“That's good to hear,” he replied, looking down at the papers on his desk. “Wouldn't want you falling asleep while we're checking out a bin that got kicked over in the night.”

“Sounds like another fun day. Did any trash get spilled?”

“No. It just got kicked over. Either that, or maybe it just fell. It's that one on Pencester Street, you know? Outside the Co-op, where it can get a little windy.” He paused, clearly giving the matter a great deal of thought. “I think it fell.”

“Well, that's...” She paused, trying to think of something to say, but for a moment all she could think about was the big, soft, warm bed at home, and the fact that it would be another twelve hours or so before she had a chance to crawl back under the covers. “You know,” she continued finally, “sometimes I think you actually
want
people to be up to no good, so we've got something to do around here.”

“Ha,” he muttered, reading the printout for a moment. “You know, someone kicked over a bin by the bus station last month. You think we've got a serial bin-kicker on our hands?”

“Either that,” she replied, “or faulty restraining screws and a few gusts of wind.”

“Huh.” He paused, before looking across the office for a moment. “You're right, though. It
is
kinda -”

Before he could finish, the phone on his desk began to ring, giving them both a slight jump.

“Wow,” Alex muttered, “it still works. You want to do the honors, or should I?”

She gestured for him to answer.

“Maybe we
should
get a new secretary after all,” he continued, before picking up the receiver. “The budget'd just about stretch, but...” He cleared his throat. “Bowley police department, Alex Gordon speaking. How can we help you on this fine day?”

As she watched, Jane realized the color was slowly draining from Alex's face.

***

Opening his eyes suddenly, the stranger saw that morning had arrived. He blinked a couple of times, trying to remember exactly what had happened the previous night, but his memories were a little hazy and all he knew for certain was that he'd gone to an all-night store after leaving the bar. Rolling over, he looked down at the floor and saw a one-third empty bottle of whiskey.

“Jesus,” he muttered, squinting as he looked over at the window. “Does everything have to be so offensively bright in this goddamn town?”

A moment later, a police siren could be heard speeding past. Listening, the stranger started to smile, and finally he chuckled to himself.

***

“Yeah, I'd cut this part,” Jack said, striking through a paragraph with a red pen. “It's extraneous to the core of the story, you know?”

“Okay,” replied Daniel, the intern, with customary eagerness. “Anything you say.”

“And then maybe -”

Stopping suddenly, Jack looked over at the window as he heard a police siren getting closer. A moment later, he saw a car flash past the newspaper's office building.

“Huh,” he said with a frown.

“Something wrong, Sir?” Daniel asked.

“No.” He paused, before turning back to him. “No, I just... I guess my wife must be having a busy day.”

***

“Of course not,” Bob whispered, as he stood naked in the bathroom with the shower running nearby to make some noise. He was holding his phone and peering out the window, and after a moment he saw Beth leading Lucy to the car. “No, tonight's fine. I'll see you there.” He listened for a moment. “No, I didn't, not yet. Just let me handle that part, okay? No! I told you! Just meet me at the same place and same time. I'll be there, I promise.”

***

“Are you going to work today?” Lucy asked.

“I am,” Beth replied, pulling the door shut and slipping the key into the ignition. “Someone has to give Mrs. Fusserman her morning biscuits and wheel Mr. Moore into the garden.”

“But you look tired.”

“Me? I'm fine.” She glanced back toward the house and imagined Bob in there, thinking that he was getting away with everything. “Don't worry, sweetie-pie. Mummy's gonna make sure everything's okay and -”

Hearing a siren over her shoulder, she turned just in time to see a police car shooting past the end of the street with its lights flashing.

“What does that mean?” Lucy asked.

“I'm not sure,” Beth replied with a frown, “but I guess your aunt Jane has to be somewhere in a hurry.”

***

“I love you,” Caitlin's voice whispered into Joe's ear as he slept.

***

A crow landed on the roof of the Monument bar and looked around for a moment, its beady eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of food. A moment later, as a man cried out below, the bird took off again, soaring high into the cold morning sky.

***

“Hey,” Jane said, rushing from the car as soon as it had stopped. Reaching Greg, the bar owner, she found he was sitting on the ground with his back against the fence and his head in his hands. “Greg?” she continued, crouching in front of him. “Greg, can you hear me? Where is she?”

He sobbed something unintelligible.

“Greg,” she said again, putting a hand on his shoulder, “for God's sake, I need you to tell me where she is.”

After a moment, Greg lifted his face and looked at her, but it was clear that he was in a state of advanced shock. Tears were running down his cheeks and his trembling mouth was half open, as if he was trying to speak but the trauma had gripped his soul and wouldn't let go. He was a big man usually, the kind of guy who could throw pretty much anyone out of his bar, but right now he seemed crumpled and small, as if some part of him had collapsed in on itself.

“Where is she?” Jane asked, more firmly this time. “Greg, talk to me!”

“I'll look around the back,” Alex said, hurrying past and making his way along the alley that ran down the side of the building.

“I...” Greg whimpered. “She...” Before he could say another word, his gaze seemed to lock, as if he was frozen in place.

“Jane!” Alex shouted. “Get over here!”

“Don't move, okay?” Jane told Greg as she got to her feet. “I'll be right back.” Spotting movement nearby, she saw that a few concerned locals had already gathered. “Margaret, Denise,” she continued, “could one of you just sit with Greg for a moment? Maybe get him a glass of water.”

“Of course,” Margaret replied, hurrying over, “but what's wrong?”

“I'm not sure yet,” she said, turning and making her way along the alley. “Hopefully nothing,” she added under her breath as she turned the corner and saw Alex leaning into one of the large plastic bins round the back of the building. “What is it?” she asked.

“Exactly what he said it was.”

Stepping closer, Jane peered into the bin. She froze as soon as she saw a pair of legs poking out from under a pile of black sacks.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” she whispered, as she reached the bin and looked inside. Sure enough, there was a bloodied arm poking out from under some other sacks. “This looks really fresh.”

“There were a few flies around a moment ago.”

“Have you taken a look at the face yet?” she asked.

Alex shook his head, before reaching into the bin and taking hold of one of the sacks. Slowly, cautiously, he lifted it to one side, exposing the battered and beaten face of Mel Armitage, the woman who'd been working late shifts in the bar for the past few years. Her eyes were closed, but there were enough thick knife wounds around her neck and throat to make the situation clear. Blood had pooled in the creases of the black sacks beneath her body.

“There are more wounds,” Jane said, pointing down toward Mel's waist, where the dead woman's shirt had been sliced in multiple places and was now stained with blood that had already begun to dry in some places, and was glisteningly moist in others. “Jesus, it looks like she's been stabbed ten, maybe fifteen times. There's -”

Before she could finish, Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her back, before letting the bin's lid fall shut.

“Let's leave the examination to the professionals,” he told her.

She tried to pull the lid open again. “I think I saw -”

“Jane!” Holding the lid firmly shut, he pushed her away. “I'm serious, we can't risk contaminating the scene.”

“I just want to look,” she told him. “I think her -”

“Our job is to secure the area,” he continued, “and get Tomlin here to take a preliminary look before he takes her for an autopsy.. I don't want anyone looking at her right now, it's not right.”

“I think her heart -”

“Jesus, Jane -”

“I think her heart is missing!”

She paused, before pulling the lid back open and looking inside. Peering closer, she saw a ragged hole in the dead woman's chest, with several broken ribs poking out.

“It is,” she said finally, feeling a cold shiver pass through her body. “Her heart's been taken.”

“Jesus,” Alex muttered, turning and taking a few paces away.

“Boss, you know what -”

“Alright, alright.”

“But if -”

“I know,” he said firmly. “I know, okay? You don't need to say it.”

She paused, before slowly lowering the lid and turning to him. “We need to get photos,” she said after a moment. “We need to get lots of photos of the scene.”

With his back to her, he nodded.

“And we need to get Tomlin here right away,” she added, her voice trembling a little. “We need to... Crap, we need to, we need to...”

“I know,” he said again.

They stood in silence for a moment.

“So I'll go and get some tape and a camera,” she continued. She waited for a reply, but none was forthcoming. “Boss?”

“Yeah,” he replied, sounding as if he was close to breaking down. “Do that.”

“Okay.” She paused again. “Are you... Are you okay?”

Still with his back to her, he nodded.

“I'll be back soon, she continued. “I promise.” Turning, she headed back around the building, before stopping and glancing at Alex again. He'd already walked away from the bin, and she could tell he was struggling with what he'd seen. After a moment, she made her way back around to where Greg was being comforted by some of the people who'd stopped.

“Is it true?” Margaret asked, with tears in her eyes.

Jane paused for a moment. “Yeah,” she said finally. “It's true.”

“That's not what happened,” Stuart said, sitting on the fertilizer box as he watched Oliver and Lucy playing in the sand. “You two are such children sometimes.”

“You don't know anything,” Oliver replied.

“I overheard Mum and Dad talking,” Stuart told him, “so yeah, actually, I
do
know what happened, dip-shit.” He paused, with a smug grin on his face. “I heard them describing everything that had been done to the woman in the bin. Mum saw it all in, like, total detail, and she was telling Dad all about it.”

“Liar,” Oliver muttered, looking back down at his half-buried toys.

“What happened to her?” Lucy asked.

“You're too young to know,” Stuart told her.

“I am
not
,” Lucy replied, setting her doll down. “I'm old enough. What happened?”

“You're still a baby,” he pointed out. “You have to be a certain age to know things like this, otherwise you'll be traumatized.”

“What does traumatized mean?” she asked.

“It means upset,” Stuart replied. “It means really,
really
upset. The kind of upset you never get over. Like, you know Joe O'Brien? You know how everyone always says he's upset about something that happened years and years ago?”

She nodded.

“
That's
how upset you'd be.”

“I wouldn't,” Lucy said. “Just tell me.”

“Even if I could,” Stuart continued, smiling as he glanced at his brother, “Oliver'd probably wet his pants.”

“Shut up!” Oliver said firmly. “You're an idiot!”

“I know you are,” Stuart replied, “but what am I?”

“Tell us!”

“You really think you can handle it?” Stuart asked. He paused, looking at the rapt faces of his brother and cousin. Glancing at the house, where the adults had gathered to discuss everything that had happened over the past few hours, he turned back to them. “It was Mel Armitage. You know, that hot woman who came to town a few years ago.”

“I know
who
they found,” Oliver replied. “What had happened to her?”

Stuart smiled. “She'd been stabbed, like, a thousand times, all over her body.”

“That's impossible,” Oliver said, turning to Lucy. “He's making it up. No-one can get stabbed a thousand times.”

“Alright,” Stuart continued, “maybe not a thousand, but a lot. There were cuts all over her where someone had stuck a knife into her body.”

“Did they
find
the knife?” Oliver asked, turning back to him.

“Nope. It's still out there somewhere, so someone could still use it on
you
!”

“Shut up!”

“She'd lost most of her blood,” he continued. “I heard Mum telling Dad that they had to take all the black bags out of the bin, and then they had to tip the whole thing over and pour the blood into a bucket. That's how much had leaked out of her through all the knife cuts. They had to empty the bucket, like, loads of times.”

¨How many?” Lucy asked.

“I dunno. Ten?”

“That's gross,” Oliver replied, looking a little paler than before.

“Her eyes had been gouged out, too,” Stuart added, using his right hand to mime the action. “Like, someone had put a knife into them and then slowly turned it, and then tilted it and used the tip to lift her eyes out, and then he'd used scissors to cut the optic nerve and he'd thrown the eyeballs into the bottom of the bin, and then he'd scraped out the sockets to make sure there were no more bits of her eyes left. I don't know why he'd done that, but he had, and then he'd cut out her tongue.”

“No way!” Oliver said, clearly shocked.

“Yes way,” Stuart continued, “and he'd tossed that too, and then he'd cut off her nose and her ears and put them in her mouth.” He turned and saw that Lucy was staring with rapt attention. She was barely blinking, and her mouth was hanging open. “He took her nails off, too, on her fingers
and
her toes.”

He waited for Lucy to react, before turning back to Oliver.

“He'd also taken off all her clothes,” he added, “and done some really bad things to her. Mum told Dad that the killer had taken a broken beer glass, and he'd got the sharpest bit he could find, and he'd -”

Suddenly Oliver leaned forward and threw up, splattering the sand with vomit.

“Loser!” Stuart shouted, as he and Lucy stepped back to avoid getting splashed. “I know you'd do that!”

“Shut up!” Oliver replied, wiping his mouth before retching and then throwing up again, although this time it was mostly liquid. “You're sick! I'm gonna tell Mum and Dad all the things you said!” He turned to Lucy. “And I'm gonna tell your Mum too, and she'll be really mad at you!”

She paused for a moment, before turning back to Stuart. “What did he do with the broken glass?” she asked finally.

***

“Here,” Jack said, placing another cup of coffee on the kitchen table, in front of Jane. “Drink this.”

“Thanks,” she replied, forcing a smile as she waited for him to sit down. “I'm fine, I swear.”

“You're not fine,” he said firmly. “Jesus Christ, Jane, you had to pull a dead body out of a bin, there's no way you can be fine.”

“Isn't there?”

“You're in shock,” he added. “You're probably not capable of processing everything right now. You need to take a few days of work so you can deal with what you've seen.”

She shook her head.

“Jane -”

“I can't leave Alex in the lurch like that,” she replied, straining to remain patient. “He needs me. He's there right now, I only came home to get some food. I'm going back in an hour.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“Jane, you have to look after yourself!”

“Let her get on with things,” Beth said suddenly, before taking a sip of coffee as she sat on the other side of the table. “For God's sake, Jack, stop telling the poor woman how she should feel. You care, we get it, I'm sure Jane appreciates the fact that you're being all touchy-feely and caring for once in your goddamn life. You've shown that, now back off and let her get on with her job.”

“Thanks for the sisterly advice,” he said dourly. “I'm just trying to be emotionally supportive for my wife.”

“Beth's right,” Jane continued, reaching over and putting a hand on Jack's arm. “Thank you for your concern, honey, but I can deal with this just fine. It's not the first dead body I've ever seen. I can't just be a cop when everything's rosy and sunny. This is part of what I signed up for too.”

“Yeah, but -”

“And it won't be the last body I ever see,” she added. “Probably not, anyway. I mean, yeah, I'm a little shaken, but I'll push through it. One thing I certainly
won't
be doing, however, is letting Alex down. Or Mel. She's on a cold slab somewhere, and she deserves justice.” She took a sip of coffee. “I have a job to do.”

Sighing, Jack looked out the window and saw the children playing in the garden. He frowned as he watched Stuart making what appeared to be stabbing motions against Lucy's belly.

“Imagine if this had happened a week later,” Beth said suddenly.

Jack turned to her.

“Or if Ben had come a week earlier,” she added.

“What's that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“Well,” she continued, “
imagine
it. The whole thing would've fed right into...” She paused. “Well, you know, the
thing
with Ben. You'd have got your knickers in a twist about it all, running around asking everyone if they thought there was a connection while trying to plant the seed in their heads. At least this way, with him not arriving 'til Monday, we know we don't have to get into any of that bullshit. Hell, it's kind of a relief in a sense.”

“Do you really think that's what I'd do?”

“Blatantly.” She turned to Jane. “Back in the real world, do you have any suspects yet?”

“We're waiting on forensic reports,” she replied. “Alex is leaning toward the idea of a drifter, someone who came to town for the night, killed Mel, and then left, even though -” She caught herself just in time.

“Even though what?” Beth asked.

“I can't say. There are some things that can't be made public yet.”

“About her injures?”

Jane nodded.

“Any sign of a robbery at the bar?” Jack asked.

She shook her head.

“Any sign of a sexual angle?” he added.

“Not so far, but we'll know for certain tonight.”

“And Greg didn't see anything?”

“He just turned up this morning and went to open the place as usual. He said he found the back door unlocked, which was unusual, and then he realized Mel hadn't finished taking out the trash. He went to dump the last bag, and that's when he found her. He called it in as soon as he'd finished throwing up.”

“And what time was that?”

“Jesus,” Beth muttered, “Jack, do you have to switch into journalist mood so goddamn fast?”

“I need to know what I can print in tomorrow's paper and what I can't,” he pointed out, before turning back to Jane. “I need you to tell me what parts of this can be out into the public domain.”

“Everything I've told you so far is fair game,” she replied, taking another sip of coffee. “I've already left out the things that can't become public knowledge yet.”

“You -” He paused, seemingly a little put out. “You've been
filtering
what you're telling me?”

She nodded.

“So what else is there?”

After taking another sip of coffee, she got to her feet. “Rules are rules,” she replied, patting him on the back as she headed to the door. “I need to shower and get changed, so could you stick something on for dinner? Anything's fine, even if it's just beans. I don't have time to wait for takeout to arrive.”

“What haven't you told us?” he asked, turning and watching as she headed to the bathroom. “Jane? Come on, seriously? What else do you know?” Hearing a sniff from Beth's direction, he turned and saw she was grinning as she sipped from her coffee. “Something funny?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “
You
, big brother.”

“Care to tell me why?”

“You're so desperate for her to fall apart, aren't you?” she continued.

“I'm just worried about my wife. She's seen something pretty horrific today. It has to have affected her.”

“Oh, it
has
to,” she muttered, taking another sip of coffee. She paused for a moment, as if she had something on her mind but wasn't sure about speaking out. “Do you want to know something awful?” she asked finally.

“Not really.”

“I mean really,
really
awful?” She paused again. “Something that might make you think I'm a terrible person?”

“I already think you're a terrible person, Beth,” he replied. “Out with it.”

“It's just -” She glanced at the door, as if she wanted to make sure that Jane couldn't overhear, before turning back to him. “When I heard about that woman's body being found today, one of my first thoughts was a kind of relief. You know, that even though it's horrible and I feel really bad for her, at least it proves... Well, you know what it proves.”

He stared at her. “What does it prove?”

“About Ben.”

“What about Ben?”

“That you've been wrong all this time. That he doesn't have anything to do with the bad things that happen.” She waited for him to reply. “Think about it, Jack. Finally something bad has happened when Ben isn't in town. End of story, right? I mean, Jesus, you're the one who had all the wild theories.” She sighed. “I always knew you were wrong, I knew, deep down, that even though Ben's a little odd, he's not...” Her voice trailed off for a moment. “This proves it. Ben's just a weird guy. He's not some kind of monster serial killer.”

Hearing the children playing outside, Jack glanced at the window.

“You accept that now, right?” Beth asked. “You have to. I mean, hell, I just feel bad that I let you persuade me. Not that you
did
persuade me, not totally, but you got me doubting Ben sometimes. At least that part of it is all over. At least when Ben comes this time, we both know that he's not dangerous. That's a relief, right?”

Again, she waited for a reply.

“Right, Jack?”

He paused for a moment, before getting to his feet. “I have to fix dinner.”

***

“Eggs are good,” the stranger muttered as he used the back of his fork to break the yolks. “God, after a hard night, all you need are a few good eggs.”

Smiling, he glanced over at the counter and saw that the waitress had noticed him talking to himself.

“Rough night,” he explained.

She nodded, before heading through to the back. She'd been acting a little awkward ever since he'd walked in, but he was used to that. He knew he had a tendency to put people off their stride.