“Who are you? Where is the detective?” Al asked. He looked Lou in the eye. And at that moment they both realised who each other was. “I know you. You work with the detective. What are you doing here?”
“I know you. And whatever you have in mind, you have lost,” Lou tried to rile the killer immediately. He had studied killers and knew that this one was calculating and calm. If he became upset or angry then Lou might stand a better chance. It was a long shot, but Lou had already seen what happened to people when Alaaldin was cool and calm. “You’ve fucked up now. Killing one police officer was pretty fucking stupid. Walking into the home of the detective who is chasing you is a whole other level of dumb.”
“Listen to me. You might sit there and have plenty to say, but remember who is in charge Your only chance to stop me was before you were tied up,” Al spoke softly like he didn’t need to raise his voice. It was the cool and calm exterior that he wanted to show the world at all times. Those that had seen the other side of Al were no longer alive to tell. Lou took a deep breath as he saw that his first attempt to rile his captor had no visible effect at all. He had to hope that there was a reaction under the surface. He would try again. But first he wanted the man to talk. He could see from the other victims and the meticulous detail in his flat that Alaaldin Hussein was engulfed in his killings. He could see the attention to detail was something that would consume a man like this. Once he opened the floodgates then he could probably keep him talking for enough time maybe even for Augustine to come back.
“What do you want to achieve? You have already killed one police officer. Another won’t add anything to you. People are already tired of what you have to say. The news has moved on. Did you see it today? All about politics. Nothing about an inconsequential murderer,” Lou mixed his two tactics. Maybe the odd provocation and stringing out the conversation might give him a glimmer of hope. Only a glimmer.
“You are not another police officer. You are a detective. Not only that, you are a detective that has been assigned to catch me. Thanks to you guys, my message isn’t even out there. Thanks to you guys, people don’t know what I have to say. But all of that will change tonight. I will reveal my message and my mission. You will help me make the news all about me for the next few weeks, possible even years. Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself,” Al spoke with his eyes half closed. It was a sure sign that he was about to go off on a long ramble about his mission. Lou sat back in silence and let him get on with it.
“I'm the acceptable face of Muslim extremism. The others want terror and death to all nonbelievers. I want to convert. There is nothing uncalculated or random about any of my acts. Everything I do is for a reason. It has been this way all my life. I have no desire to spread terror. I want people to truly take a look at their lives and make a decision on how they wish to live. They can decide to live by the rules of the Quran or they can live with the fear that their sins might be the end of them. Science gets in the way of true progress. AIDS was supposed to wipe off the face of the earth men who chose to lay with men, but science warned of the dangers and worked for a cure. There should be no intervention except that which is righteous. To provide a cure without considering the lifestyle of the individuals is amoral. I am the moral guidance that people have forgotten. Only a few will die, from a worldwide population of billions. They will go down in history as accomplices to my masterful work. I will save the morality of this planet. People will look on what I have done in the future not as murder, but as the beginning of a new world. I will be hailed as a hero; not as a killer,” Al opened his eyes, half expecting that his prey would have disappeared somehow. He had tied him tight enough and the doors were closed, but Al lost himself in his own world when talking about the brilliance of his work. He could close his eyes and imagine a future shaped by his hand for hours on end. It would contain nothing that went against his beliefs. And in this imaginary future that existed between his ears he was hailed as a hero. He was seen as a liberator.
“I’m not sure what you are talking about. I’ve seen the people you killed. I have spoken to their family. I have consoled them when telling how their son, their daughter, their husband, wife or parent has been killed and defiled by an evil act. They don’t see you as a hero. They see you for the scum that you are,” Lou felt that his words were having an effect. He couldn’t quite see the clock on the mantelpiece above the settee where he sat but guessed that maybe fifteen minutes had elapsed since Alaaldin had entered Augustine’s flat. He tried to calculate how many monologues from Alaaldin it would take to eat up an hour. The murderer spoke softly and slowly, so Lou guessed that with short silences in between, it might take ten to fifteen speeches like this to fill an hour. He maybe had three hours to fill. He hoped that there was a lot that the killer hadn’t already revealed. The more he had to taunt Lou with, the longer Lou might be able to hold out. He had never known discomfort like it. The nights sat up at his wife’s bedside when she was in her final days were bad for his aching bones. But he had something to focus on and knew that she was in a much worse situation then he was. He had time to think about what issues she might develop next, his own plans for the future and how much love he could show her before she left the shell of her body.
But sat in front of a killer, he had none of that. He couldn’t think of anyone that would swap places with him from any part of the planet. He couldn’t make future plans because it looked like his future was only going to be half an hour long at most, all of it spent tied to this sofa. He could only show his emotions to the man stood a few feet away. Instead of the love he showed for his wife, the overriding emotion now was hatred. This was mixed with pity. Not for himself, he had led a long life and had one eye on a reunion with his wife, but for all the other people this man had killed.
“Tell me something. We found a message in your apartment. And we have all the letters in order except one. Is there a body we haven’t found?” Lou could see that this question struck a nerve. The message left on the chest of his victims obviously irked Alaaldin. He wanted this to get out to the world, but without it his killings made no sense. He looked like any common or garden serial killer. With it he became what he wanted to be seen as – a messenger from Allah, a bringer of justice, a hero as he wished. Lou listened intently as Al closed his eyes and began to speak. It was even softer and even slower than before. Lou shuffled to the edge of the sofa and tried to block out all other noise.
45
Augustine was smiling again. It was the same smile that he had worn when at the theatre with Christine. Once they had broken the ice, it was like they slipped back into the same groove. He was smitten, he didn’t mind admitting that to himself. She saw the man that she first met, not the man that found her friend dead.
Augustine was working his way up to asking Christine if she would like to move on somewhere else. He had nothing particular in mind, nothing special, but he felt as though the venue was chosen for its banality and neutrality. Now they no longer needed the banal or the neutral it had served its purpose. Augustine tried to think about the different places that were nearby. His knowledge of nightlife in the town was almost non-existent and confined to the venues where he had to investigate a crime.
The Vaults? No. he had a suspicion that one of the barmen was involved in drugging women to be raped a few years ago. Nothing that could be proven, but enough to stay in his memory.
The Star Bar? No. A body was discovered in the back alley near to their bins that had been there for months at the best estimate. The staff has been literally walking backwards and forwards past this body for weeks without noticing. It wasn’t until the manager realised that the bins hadn’t been empty in I-don’t-know-how-long that the rotting remains were uncovered. Even then it took 24 hours to call the police. They all wanted to make sure they weren’t in any trouble before reporting it.
Bar 76? No. it probably hadn’t been cleaned since ’76. Augustine had been there only a few weeks before as it was near to the headquarter
s of Britain Excelsior. It was as grubby as the politicians that hung out there.
How about the 3 Badgers? It was only recently opened and had been named as a tongue-in-cheek tribute to the way that pubs were named in the past. It hadn’t been open long enough for any crimes to have been committed there or to get dirty. Augustine was sure it was the right place.
Christine could see Augustine go through the gears. She knew he was thinking about something and was worried that the lighter mood would be broken by it. She grabbed his hand and led him to the door.
“Let’s go somewhere else. This place is dragging me down. I’m happy again and I want to see a bit more of the town with you before the night is over. Do you know anywhere suitably gritty? The kind of place a detective might take his girl?” Christine spoke with mischief obvious at every word.
“How about the 3 Badgers? It might not be gritty, but could be worth a look?” Augustine explained. He wasn’t sure what she meant by gritty. Maybe The Vaults, Star Bar and Bar 76 were better options.
“I’ll give it a go, but if I don’t like it then it’s one drink and we move on,” she explained. Augustine loved the way she took control. He had searched all his life for a woman that would lead him to places that he never dreamed of visiting himself. He stuck to the same restaurants, the same bars and the same people all the time. He could see a life with Christine would be one of a new experience every time he left his front door. Pretty much like his work. It breathed new life into him. Augustine had considered a life like Lou’s over the previous few weeks. Not the Lou who had a loving relationship and bond with his wife but the Lou of now. The alone Lou. Augustine had almost resigned himself that this was the way it was going to be. But when he was with Christine it felt different. It felt as though he was already married and the two of them were destined to spend the rest of their lives together. This was after the sum of one and a half dates. One that had ended horrifically and one that hadn’t started that well either. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Augustine felt content.
Thinking of Lou sparked something in Augustine’s brain. It was a small moment of worry in a sea of excitement. He let the excitement wash over it and instantly the worry was pushed to the furthest reaches of his mind. Augustine walked along the street towards the 3 Badgers with a beaming smile written across his face. He couldn’t help it.
But suddenly the smile disappeared as the worry came racing back to the forefront of his mind. The alley opposite his home. There was something not right about it. The alley had overgrown weeds that had accumulated over a number of years. As the alley led nowhere and didn’t seem to belong to anyone, they had just been left to grow. At the time, his mind was on his date, his taxi and his colleague. He must have glanced at it but been in no mind to take it in. Now he was relaxed, Augustine vividly remembered that the weeds had been trampled. It looked the same as the woodland near the body Sally and her dog had found. But what if it was significant? What if it was a sign that the killer had been near to his home? He had to run.
“Christine, I have to go. I think that someone is in grave danger. I think it is the killer again,” he didn’t wait for an answer and ran off along the street looking through the darkness for a taxi. He spotted one around 20 cars away and ran as fast as he could to catch it through the slow-moving traffic of kicking-out time. The lights and pedestrian crossings were slowing traffic to a few miles an hour, so Augustine was able to catch up quickly. He didn’t want to give anything away to the taxi driver, so decided that a phone call was out of the question. After the publicity of earlier murders, Augustine didn’t want to be the person that inadvertently tipped off the press. So, he texted Marie and the rest of the team. He wanted them to know what he was doing.
‘Lou at mine. I think the killer is there. I’m on my way. Be there in ten.’
Augustine switched his phone off. He knew that he would forget about it and it could ring and ruin any chance of surprise if his suspicions were true and the killer was at his home. He looked left and right at every junction with the driver. It was as though there were dual controls and Augustine was giving a driving lesson. His eyes were trained on the road but his mind was working overtime. He had no idea how the killer knew where he lived or if the trampled weeds meant something sinister. Augustine started counting the seconds in his head and registering the minutes on his fingers. It served no purpose but made him feel more in control somehow.
“How long do you think?” he asked the taxi driver but didn’t listen to the reply. Augustine went back to counting and looking at the streets. It wasn’t long before he arrived in his own street.
“Forget it. Just drop me off here,” he said, suddenly thinking that the element of surprise might be lost by pulling up right outside the address.
“It’s the same price,” the taxi driver replied. He could see that his fare would be in no mood to argue. He shoved a note in the driver’s hand and jumped out. The taxi driver started to pull away when the strange man he had driven knocked on the window.
“Do you mind turning around and going out that way? It is kind of important to me,” Augustine tried to explain without giving away any information. The taxi driver shrugged, muttered ‘fuck me’ under his breath and turned around. Augustine smiled like he would to someone who held the door open for him. It was not a smile that was returned by the taxi driver who screeched his tyres as he pulled away. Augustine crossed the road and slowly made his way towards the alleyway opposite his home. He spied the trampled weeds and his mind went into overdrive. What had he let his friend and colleague in for? Christine was stood outside the pub that they had been walking to. She got there a few minutes after Augustine left he but didn’t want to go in on her own. She asked a stranger for a cigarette and passed a few minutes conversation with them. She decided that the 3 Badgers would be a venue that she would visit with Augustine, not on her own. She looked down the street for a taxi.
46
Augustine looked up and down at his home. It looked and felt different now that he was sure a stranger was in there with one of his colleagues. The place that had been his sanctuary away from all the pain he saw at work had been converted into another crime scene, he was sure. Augustine saw no option but to cross the street as quietly as he could and go inside.
The street felt darker than usual. He didn’t study things like this when he came back from a night out or left early for work. These were just everyday journeys – part of his normal life. But with the potential of his home being the scene of a crime, the darkness was evident all along the street. It was evident in the alley along the side of his house where he kept his bins. It was evident in the neighbour’s habit of going to bed early with no sign of life left while asleep. It was evident in the fact that the house three doors away was empty and had been for months. Augustine looked at the front door. It was locked. He had taken a key. Before he left, Augustine had removed it from a bunch and slipped the single key into his wallet, as he always did on a night out. This saved him taking all of his keys everywhere he went. It also felt safer tucked away in the folds of his wallet, where he usually only kept a photograph of his grandmother and some old ID cards he never needed.
The key slipped silently into the lock and he turned. In all his years as a detective, Augustine had never needed to open a door silently. He had seen acts like this in the movies. Never could he imagine that it would be his front door that needed his attention in this way. He was oblivious to the world around him on a normal day. He couldn’t tell you if the hinges on his door creaked. He had no idea if the door would hit the wall behind if he let it run that far. Augustine was embarrassed that of all the places in the world he should know inside out, the one he ought to had him baffled. He pushed slowly on the door with his left hand while the right controlled the movement. At the slightest hint of a creak he could stop the door from moving and return the situation to silent. He pushed.
47
Ash and Marie were stood together at the end of the
street. They were the only ones still awake at that hour and had responded immediately to Augustine’s text message. When they both got no reply when calling him, they were each other’s next port of call. Ash go there a few seconds earlier than Marie and her phone was ringing as she looked up his number. They agreed to meet at the end of the street and go together. It was what they wished Augustine had done. Maybe that was why he had switched his phone off. It wasn’t ignoring the advice of a colleague or the instructions of your boss if you didn’t hear the instructions. By the time they got to the front door, they could see it was too late. They could see it was all over.
The blood was spattered across the front door and was running down the path into the street. They climbed the stairs to a room that had obviously been the scene of a struggle. There was a single piece of paper on the chest of a body. Marie looked away. Ash looked down to see a letter ‘H’ on the paper. He held Marie. She looked up to the ceiling. It was a scene she didn’t expect.
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