Uncoiled Lies: a stunning crime thriller

by Liz Mistry

  Bazza stared open eyed at Sampson, ‘What?’

  ‘Too many syllables, DC Sampson,’ said Alice and walked round to stand in front of Bazza. ‘What my colleague means is that you give us the ins and outs (pardon the pun) of your TV viewing last night, along with proof of payment, and that’ll go some of the way to establishing your alibi. Understand?’

  He nodded, licked his lips and said, ‘Well the first film I watched was Gina and her Amazing–’

  Alice waved her hand in the air. ‘Stop right there. I’m not wasting time listening to replays of your private sexual promiscuities. You’ll go down to Lilycroft Police Station before 11am today and give a detailed, recorded statement to this sergeant, okay?’ And she scribbled a name on a card and handed it to him.

  Bazza took the card and tapped it on his knee. Alice was pleased to note that some of his earlier swagger had vanished. ‘What we really need to know is where Trixie came from. Any ideas?

  ‘She appeared a couple of years ago, trying to work on her own. Jessica found her on the street and brought her to me. I’ve looked after her ever since.’

  ‘Didn’t she say where she came from? What her real name was?’

  Bazza shook his head. ‘Nothing. Just Trixie, that’s it, nothing else.’

  Minutes later, Alice and Sampson stood outside eagerly inhaling the car fumes, which were a welcome relief after the stench of Bazza’s flat. Glad to be away from the disgusting little man, Alice said, ‘Wonder what his penthouse is like?’

  Sampson grinned. ‘Not sure I want to know.’

  Thrusting the arm of her coat under Sampson’s nose Alice said, ‘Smell that! It bloody stinks. I’ll need to have it dry cleaned now. Yeauch!’ and without waiting for Sampson’s response she marched towards her car yelling at two kids who were touching her paintwork, ‘I’m a copper, you leave fingerprints and I’ll be able to find you.’

  The kids grinned at her and ran off. Sighing, Alice slapped Sampson on the arm, with enough force to make him yelp. ‘Let’s forget about Bazza for a bit, I’m taking you to The Prossie Palace.’

  Sampson stopped and stared at her. ‘The what?’

  Alice grinned and opened the car door. ‘You heard right.’

  After they’d settled back into the car, Sampson said, ‘And what exactly is the Prossie Palace?’

  ‘Ah ha, you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?’ Alice pulled smoothly into the flow of traffic.

  08:15 Leeds Old Road

  The doorway of the closed laundrette stank of stale sex but at least it kept the slight drizzle off Anastazy as he watched the bus stop further down the road on the opposite side. He drew deeply on his cigarette before flicking it onto the pavement, narrowly missing a Pakistani woman with a pushchair who was dragging her school-age child behind her. She turned and opened her mouth as if to say something to him but stopped when he stepped towards her, his large body threatening.

  Her expression changed from anger to fear as her eyes drifted from his snarling face with its tear drop inks, past his snake tattoo to his muscled upper arms, bulging from the sleeves of his T-shirt. Her fear made his groin twitch. He flexed his muscles and his tattoos coiled and trembled up his arms. ‘What, Bitch?’ he said, enjoying the power. The woman’s face blanched, so he stamped his foot into a puddle, sending splashes of rain onto her shalwar and laughed as she scurried off, urging the child forward and steering the pushchair with one hand. Turning to the group of mums who had witnessed the incident and were now giving him a wide berth, he bowed, his gesture slow and flamboyant, before stepping back into the doorway and lighting another fag. He loved commanding respect and he enjoyed seeing other people’s fear. Mind you, he needed to keep a bit of a rein on his natural instinct to dominate. No point in drawing too many people’s attention to him. Not when The Old Man had told him to keep a low profile. He didn’t want to piss him off too much.

  Five minutes later his patience was rewarded when he saw Serafina walking down the road towards the bus stop. As usual, she was with her younger brother who towered above her, his limbs all edges and angles as he loped along. To avoid her noticing him, Anastazy took a step backwards into the doorway and continued his secret scrutiny. She seemed more aware of her surroundings than usual. Her eyes darted around her as if she was looking for someone. Anastazy grinned. He knew he’d scared her the previous night and that she was looking for him. Good. Sometimes it was better to keep them on edge. Keep them off kilter.

  She wore a hoodie today and he suspected that the hood was up, not only to keep off the rain but as a disguise. She clearly didn’t know that he’d been watching her for days and knew exactly where she lived, the places she went and who she hung around with.

  He knew that she’d get on the bus down to the Interchange and then get the 626 up Manchester Road to City Academy. He’d followed her before. He drew on his cigarette and frowned. When she was his, she’d be giving that crap up. No way would he let her continue going to school. Not when she could be earning for him. Not as if she’d need A Levels doing what he had in mind for her. A paroxysm of coughing racked him for a second. He hoiked up a glob of phlegm and, using his tongue to direct it, blew it from his mouth in an arc, laughing when it landed on the back of a kid in a poxy blue uniform. The kid didn’t notice the green slime dribble down his back, which amused Anastazy even more.

  Smiling, he watched as Serafina stood huddled in the bus shelter with her brother and a couple of Polish kids and two Asian lads. They all seemed to be chatting. He frowned as a tall Asian lad put his arm round her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. What the fuck was he playing at? Anastazy was on the point of moving over when he saw Serafina push the boy away with a loud, ‘Fuck off, Hasnain!’ which caused the other kids to laugh and slag the unfortunate Hasnain off.

  That’s my girl, thought Anastazy, pleased with Serafina’s feistiness. He’d keep an eye on that Paki, Hasnain, though. Damn right he would. Where the fuck did he get off, groping his girl?

  The bus pulled up and, one by one, the waiting school kids got on. Anastazy watched Serafina pull her hoodie down and move along the bus. She slid into a window seat, her brother next to her. Stepping from the doorway, Anastazy approached the side of the bus as the rest of the people lined up to get on. Standing on the kerb next to Serafina’s seat, he raised a hand and when Serafina’s startled eyes met his through the bus window, he grinned and winked. Then, he pointed to Hasnain who sat in the seat behind her. Making a gun shape with his fingers, he pretended to shoot the boy. Anastazy laughed when Serafina’s panicked eyes followed his aim and her mouth formed a small O.

  08:20 Leeds Old Road

  She’d been no more than mildly irritated by Hasnain’s stupid attentions. For weeks now he’d made no secret of the fact he fancied her but Serafina hadn’t been remotely tempted. Not when there was Imti from The Delius. It was a no-brainer. Imti was gorgeous and, although Hasnain was nice enough, he acted like the adolescent boy he was, burping and farting in front of her. As if that would attract her. No Serafina wanted someone a little bit more suave and mature. Yeah, Imti fit the bill for her.

  Then, when she got on the bus and settled into her seat next to Thomas she saw him standing outside the bus, staring at her. She’d been so careful; keeping her hoodie up, walking a longer way to the bus stop, much to Thomas’ annoyance, and still he’d found her. She felt her breath quicken in her chest and then he pretended to shoot Hasnain with his pretend gun. Shit! Shit! Shit! What should she do?

  As the bus drew away from the bus stop and Anastazy’s face faded from her vision, she turned her face to the window and ignored Hasnain, hoping he’d back off. She’d have to find a way to warn him off. Make him realise that, if he didn’t back off, his health could be in serious danger. She’d wait till break time, when Thomas wasn’t around. The last thing she wanted was for her younger brother to find out about Anastazy and tell her older ones. If Jacob and Luka found out that he was following her all hell would break loose a
nd the new life they’d carved for themselves in Bradford would be at risk. It would all be her fault. She had to try to deal with Anastazy on her own, without the assistance of her hot-headed brothers. But she had a sneaky feeling that would be easier said than done.

  09:15 Halifax Morgue

  When Sadia arrived with Gus at the autopsy room, Doc McGuire had already started the post-mortem on Trixie. She smiled as Gus, with his usual stoicism, marched along the corridors with their antiseptic smell, looking as if he was eager to reach his destination. Sadia knew, however, that the tension in his angular face was caused by his teeth being clenched tightly as he fought against nausea. Nearing the morgue, Sadia became aware of a change in the balance between clinical antiseptic and fetid body smells. There was no mistaking the odours that seeped along this corridor in the bowels of the hospital.

  With amused sympathy, she watched Gus take a deep preparatory breath through his mouth before pulling his hankie from his pocket. He thrust it under his nose and breathed deeply from the depths of its pristine white folds. Sadia could smell the Vicks and grinned. Gus hoped it would disguise the God awful smell, but she knew that the only way to acclimatise was to start off taking shallow breaths, gradually deepening them until you were used to the smells. Never mind, the Vicks would serve as smelling salts when the grinding and sawing noises became too much for his queasy stomach and he landed flat on his back. Sadia grinned: she knew it wouldn’t come to that. Gus had too much willpower to faint in public.

  She’d never been squeamish around the autopsy room. From a young age she’d been fascinated by the Muslim butcher at the end of her road. She’d watched in fascination as he chopped the chicken or meat into small pieces, frequently asking which parts were which. Sometimes, if she was early enough he would allow her to watch as he slaughtered the chickens by a cut to the neck, from which the bird’s blood would drain as he recited the Bismillah, thanking Allah for the food and sanctifying the animal Halal. Sadia smiled remembering how her mother had told her off when she’d caught her, telling her that her role was to learn how to cook the chicken not slaughter it. Her father, though, had leapt to her defence, declaring that it was a good thing to understand where food came from and how it should be prepared to make it Halal.

  She got changed into her scrubs and by the time Gus had donned his and folded his greasy hankie beneath the mask, Sadia was already in the room, standing as close to the trolley as she could, determined not to miss anything. She glanced back at Gus who stood at the back of the room, leaning against the metal sink. He’d confided to Sadia that he found it reassuring to have the sink within hurling distance, although, to date, he hadn’t had to use it.

  Dr McGuire winked at Sadia from above his mask and, ignoring Gus, he turned his attention back to Trixie’s body and continued to remove, examine and weigh her liver. In admiration, Sadia watched his nimble fingers at work and wondered how Gus hadn’t managed to develop a thicker lining to his stomach. He had told her that Dr McGuire’s hopes of him following in his footsteps had taken a nosedive when, at the tender age of twelve, he’d thrown up watching a cow give birth.

  She caught the glance that Dr McGuire threw in his son’s direction, interpreting it as a combination of concern that Gus would actually faint this time and admiration that, despite the revulsion that gripped him at each PM, he was still strong enough to attend them, time after time.

  Dr McGuire directed most of the general data to Sadia as he weighed and dissected organs. ‘The cause of death was strangulation, Sadia. From the bruising on her neck, I’d say she was attacked from the front. Look, these are knuckle marks just above her larynx.’ He pointed to the front of Trixie’s neck. ‘Her assailant obviously used his or her knuckles to increase the pressure and strengthen their grip as they pulled the scarf tighter and tighter round her neck’

  ‘Isn’t it harder to strangle someone from in front?’ asked Sadia

  ‘Well, that depends really on all sorts of things, like the comparative size of victim and assailant, the condition of the victim. Was she drunk like the other two or stone cold sober? Was it erotic asphyxiation?’ He shrugged. ‘You’ll remember, though, the other two victims were definitely strangled from behind.’

  Sadia glanced at Gus with a raised eyebrow. Maybe Trixie had turned round at the last minute and surprised her assailant at the point of attack. She supposed it was too early to say. ‘What else can you tell us, Dr McGuire?’

  ‘Well, Trixie was a drug addict as shown by the state of her organs and the obvious tracks on her legs and arms. This will no doubt be validated when the tox screens come back. I think the age she gave her friend is about right, no older than twenty-one or so, but probably closer to eighteen. In terms of her attack there’s another couple of interesting things.’

  He moved to the bottom end of the body and, pointing to Trixie’s genitalia, said, ‘Firstly, the wine bottle was inserted post-mortem, whereas on the other girls they were inserted pre-mortem.’

  Sadia frowned. Why would the killer change that part of his MO. Was Trixie not zonked out enough for him to do it pre-mortem or did he decide for some reason to change his MO. Maybe, if Trixie surprised him he had to strangle her quickly and was unable to complete his MO in the correct order. Whatever his reasons though, this deviation was very interesting. ‘So, this time our killer changed his MO big style?’

  ‘He certainly did,’ continued Fergus. ‘He also didn’t use a broken bottle and he didn’t use nearly as much force as with the other two girls.’

  Sadia frowned. ‘Do you think he was rushed for time? Disturbed maybe, and had to finish off quickly?’

  Fergus shrugged. ‘Could be either, I suppose, but the other odd thing was that I found traces of semen this time.’

  ‘What?’ said Sadia. ‘That’s weird. Why after being so careful has he suddenly left us a semen trace? Or, wait a minute, it might not be his. It might be a punter she had earlier.’

  ‘Or a boyfriend,’ said Gus from his position by the sink. Sadia had been so engrossed in the post-mortem that she’d forgotten Gus was there. A quick glance told her he was fine. She smiled at him. ‘Yes, she’s less likely to use a condom with a boyfriend than a punter.’

  ‘Unless she was desperate for a fix and the punter offered a good rate,’ said Gus.

  ‘Well,’ said Fergus interrupting their suppositions, ‘I’ve sent it off to the lab, so we’ll know soon enough if we have a match. But, I think you might be most interested in this, though.’

  He paused, presumably for dramatic effect and leaned against the trolley. ‘I removed her womb before you arrived and guess what? She was pregnant. About six weeks along, I’d say. I’ve also sent the foetus to the lab for analysis. Might support the theory that she had a boyfriend or that she was getting careless to feed her habit. Who knows?’ He pushed himself away from the trolley and slipping his gloves off he threw them in the bin. ‘I’ll leave the whys and wherefores for you super sleuths to find out but, meanwhile, I must say good bye and get on to my next PM. Car crash victims; the male minus his dick after losing control of the vehicle at, I’d hazard a guess, roughly the same time as he orgasmed. The man he was with certainly had strong jaws, is all I can say.’

  As the implications of his words sank in, Sadia released a chirp of laughter and made to follow him from the room. Suddenly, Dr McGuire stopped and swivelled to face them, directing his words at Sadia. ‘Ah, Sadia, has Angus invited you to lunch on Sunday?’

  Sadia flushed and, caught off-guard, looked at Gus. ‘No.’

  10:45 Halifax Morgue

  Gus grabbed his father’s arm and pulled him from the autopsy room. ‘What the hell are you playing at? Last night you embarrassed me, and then you ask Al to come to lunch with me and now Sadia. What is this?’

  Fergus looked at his son and sighed. ‘Look Gus, your mother’s determined to mend bridges between you, Gabriella and Katie. Sunday is just the start of her shenanigans. You know what she’s like. I just thought you’
d fare better with a bit of external support around. Besides which, your mother’s sure you’ve got a new girlfriend and she thinks now’s the time to parade her in front of those other two.’

  Gus looked at his dad’s anxious face and his anger evaporated. He pulled his huge father to him in an embrace. ‘Thanks, Dad, but I’m a big boy now. Got to face my battles on my own.’

  Untying his scrubs and blowing his huge nose, Fergus nodded. ‘Aye, Angus laddie, I know. But it’s been hard for your mother and me too, you know? Not wanting to take sides. Trying to be fair and seeing you hurting so much. Especially after young Billy’s death and then that whole case with The Matchmaker.’ He patted Gus on the arm. ‘Just come on Sunday, Angus, and bring who you like. It’ll be fine. Anyway, you don’t need to stay long as we know you’re in the middle of a big case, but at least it’ll be a step forward… for everyone.’

  Still smarting from his previous conversation with his dad, Gus felt like a complete heel. He’d been so busy thinking about himself that he’d failed to realise that this thing with Gabriella and Katie affected his parents too. Fuck, but he was such a selfish bastard at times. After all their support the least he could do was turn up on Sunday and just get on with it. It’s not as if he had any feelings left for Gabriella and, as for Katie… well, he was hurt, but she was his sister at the end of the day.

  Climbing into the passenger seat, Gus said, ‘What the hell do you make of all of that?’

  Sadia shook her head. ‘Em, you mean your dad or Trixie?’

  With a sideways glance at her as he put on his seatbelt, Gus said, ‘Let’s leave my dad for later and think about Trixie first?’

  Sadia tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe Sampson’s right and there are two perps and they swapped roles for Trixie. That would explain the change in MO. Or maybe he just got disturbed, or maybe it’s a copycat or maybe it’s the baby’s father trying to make it look like the other two girls.’