by Ellis, Tim
She grinned like the Cheshire Cat. ‘Nope, better than that. So, am I officially your partner now? And don’t think I’m jumping the gun ‘cause I’m asking. I’m really sorry about Walsh, I know you liked her a lot and you don’t like me, but it’d just be cool to know if I was or I wasn’t your partner, so I knew where I stood an’ everything.’
‘What makes you think I don’t like you?’
She shrugged. ‘So what’s the case? I hope there’s lots of juicy murders.’
‘Grisly Park.’
‘Never heard of it.’
There was a knock at the door. A head with rosy cheeks and black hair in a bun appeared. ‘Inspector Quigg?’
‘You must be Constable Coveney?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘This is Kline,’ he said.
She tossed Kline a smile. ‘Hi.’
‘You’re taking a mobile to Grisly Park?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you got everything you need?’
She grinned. ‘Inspector Wright said you’d ask me that. I was to say, “Do you think I’ve got everything I need?”’
‘I don’t know what you need.’
‘I know. Yes, we’ve got everything we need, but you have to bring the coffee, tea bags, milk, sugar, and Hobnobs.’
‘Okay, I can do that.’
‘Do you want me to leave for Grisly Park now?’
‘Yes please. Kline and I will see you there in about two hours.’
She nodded and closed the door.
‘So, you’re going to put your bra back on?’ he prompted her
‘Do you want me to?’
‘Yes, I’m easily distracted.’
‘It won’t take us two hours to get there, you know.’
‘It’s not a race.’
‘If you say so.’
‘Sit down.’
‘Crap. You’re going to tell me I’m not your partner anymore, aren’t you?’
‘I’ve got two files in my drawer.’
‘From applicants to be your partner? Fuck! Why didn’t you ask me to apply? I would have applied. I hate writing applications, but I would have done it. I kinda like being your partner.’
‘I sent the swabs for DNA analysis again. Janet ran the results through the database. It came back with two matches.’
‘If I even thought you were talking about something I don’t want you to talk about, I’d leap over this desk and rip your tongue out.’
‘Okay, that’s all I wanted to know. I haven’t even looked at the files myself yet.’
‘Don’t ever mention them again. So, how long you gonna keep me dangling?’
‘All right, but...’
She leapt over the desk.
He closed his mouth tight just in case.
She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Fucking ace! You won’t regret it.’
‘I hope not, but for God’s sake go and put your bra back on. I’ll meet you in the car park in five minutes.’
She skipped out of his office and along the corridor laughing. The males – and some of the females – craned their necks to ogle her.
***
‘What the hell is this?’ he asked, as he climbed into the red open-top sports car with great difficulty. Kline was making it rock back and forth using just the accelerator.
She grinned. ‘This, is an Audi TT RS Roadster. Traffic use it to catch crazy people.’
‘Like you?’
‘You better believe it, pardner.’ She rammed the accelerator to the floor.
The back of his head hit the rest.
Her eyes were wide open. The pupils dilated as if she’d been snorting cocaine all morning.
‘I don’t suppose Traffic will ever catch you, because you’re in the car they’d use to catch you.’
She laughed as if there was no tomorrow, and changed down a gear as she swerved round a bus on the A315.
They stopped at Dinneywicks Inn in Turnham Green for lunch. Kline wanted to race the mobile incident room, but he told her he’d reconsider his decision to make her his partner if she wouldn’t follow his orders. Reluctantly, she skidded into the car park at the rear and put the hood up.
He gave her a twenty-pound note and told her to find a convenience store and buy coffee, tea bags, sugar, milk and Hobnobs.
‘I’ll get the drinks in. What do you want?’
‘Apple juice. It’s my favourite drink now.’
Once they were sitting down with their drinks Kline said, ‘Do you really mean I can be your partner?’
‘Yes, but you have to not be so crazy.’
‘I’ll try. Don’t you have to get the Chief to rubberstamp it, or something?’
‘He already has.’
‘You haven’t seen him since...’
‘I made the decision two weeks ago.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘And you didn’t tell me?’
‘You were busy.’
‘I should kill you.’
‘Then you wouldn’t be my partner.’
‘Mmmm.’
The food arrived.
‘So, why are we going to Grisly Park?’
‘Remains have been found there.’
‘Of what?’
He shrugged. ‘I asked the same question. We’ll just have to wait until we get there.’
‘Will we get the chance to go on the rides? I love to go on the rollercoaster.’
‘It’s not that type of park.’
‘Oh!’
‘It’s called Grisly for a reason. They’re advertising it as the largest and most terrifying haunted destination in the country. If you like horror, it’s the place to go.’
‘Why? Is it haunted?’
‘It used to be an asylum for the criminally insane called Waterbury, but it was closed in 1973 . . .’
‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘No idea. The old buildings were refurbished, and now form the basis of the park.’
She shivered. ‘Sounds spooky.’
‘If you believe in all that rubbish.’
‘And you don’t?’
His lip curled up. ‘Do you?’
‘I might.’
He scoffed. ‘You believe in the undead, vampires, ghosts, demons from hell, and all the other garbage they group under the heading of horror?’
‘You never know. They say there’s always a kernel of truth to these things.’
‘Who says?’
‘They.’
‘I see. In all the time I’ve been a murder detective I’ve never seen a ghost, or a dead person get up and walk with a craving for human flesh. It’s the living who are at the root of all the horrors in the world.’
‘Maybe you just haven’t been in the right place at the right time.’
‘You’ll get on with Perkins. He collects old Hammer Horror films, loves anything to do with horror. He’ll be in his element there.’
‘He’s a weird fish.’
‘And you’re not?’
Chapter Two
When they arrived at Grisly Park, Quigg had to peel his left hand off the door handle.
‘You should have been a racing driver.’
‘I’ve done it, you know.’
‘What, racing?’
‘Yeah, at Brands Hatch. They do courses. My mum and dad bought me a day’s racing for my 16th birthday. The professionals wanted to take me on as a trainee. I beat everybody that day. They said I was fearless.’
‘I bet.’
Constable Coveney had taken charge when she arrived with the truck. Much to the chagrin of the park manager, she cordoned off a large portion of the car park with blue and white striped tape. In the space, she parked the mobile incident room, and then made Perkins move the two forensics’ vans inside the cordon. Generators were humming like the Audi TT’s engine.
‘Good job, Coveney,’ he said, and passed her the plastic bag with the shopping in.
‘Thanks, Sir. Do you want a coffee and a Hobnob?’
‘Not at the
moment. I’d better talk to someone, find out what the hell’s going on.’
‘The manager – Daniel Frye – is a right jumped up twit. We should probably arrest him now, and make him suffer a bit before questioning him.’
‘Have you got somewhere to keep him if we do?’
‘We could chain him up outside like a dog, strip him naked, and go out every now and again and kick him a few times.’
‘I take it he upset you?’
She grinned. ‘Not much, but I think I pissed him off.’
‘I’ll leave you to switch everything on then. Come on Kline, let’s go and find Perkins.’
‘You’ll find him in the Waterbury Hotel,’ Coveney said before they could get out of the door, ‘and you’ll need two things to get there.’
‘Oh?’
She passed him a key on a ring, and a Grisly Park glossy brochure. ‘The key is for a little red buggy parked outside, and the brochure has a 3D map inside. This is a massive place. Not only does it go on for miles in every direction, but it’s also been designed like a computer game with different levels. You could spend a month here and not see everything.’
‘What would I do without you, Coveney?’
‘I think you’d get lost, Sir.’
For a change there was no rain. The sky was a wishy-washy blue, and it was warm enough for him to take his jacket off. He emptied the pockets, and left it hung on a peg in the incident room.
Outside, Kline tried to get the keys to the buggy off him, but he held on for grim death. ‘Over my dead body, Kline.’
‘We’re in the right place for that to occur, Sir.’
He drove at a leisurely pace through the park entrance and flashed his warrant card to the cashiers. The place was mostly dead. Apparently, it didn’t come alive until the evening.
‘Can’t you go any faster?’
‘This is not a sports car in disguise.’ He passed her the map. ‘Which way to the Waterbury Hotel?’
It took them twenty minutes to reach the hotel entrance, which was in the centre of the park, and surrounded by a twelve-foot high palisade fence. Above the arched entrance the original sign hung at an angle: “Waterbury Asylum for the Criminally Insane”, but someone had painted a dripping red line through the last five words, and added “Hotel” in red at the end.
There were security staff at the entrance. He flashed his warrant card and drove through like an octogenarian.
The “Hotel” looked more like a red-brick Georgian mansion. There was a four-storey central building flanked by a three-storey wing on either side.
‘Wow!’ Kline said. ‘I wasn’t expecting this.’
‘Impressive,’ he said, as if knew what he was talking about.
They parked the buggy outside, and walked up the steps to the large main door.
Before they could hunt down Perkins, a tall, stooped thin man with a bald patch and glasses who said his name was Daniel Frye – the park manager – accosted them in reception.
‘I have a complaint.’
‘Already, Sir? We haven’t even begun the investigation and you want to make a complaint.’
‘That woman in the truck, she was extremely rude to me.’
Quigg took him by the elbow, and led him beyond Kline’s hearing. ‘You’re lucky, Sir. She wanted to chain you up naked outside the truck and kick you in the bollocks every now and again for obstructing a police investigation. I persuaded her to give you another chance, but you’re not making it easy for me. I can let her arrest you if you want, Sir?’
‘Of course I don’t want to be arrested.’
‘Well, I advise you to keep your own counsel then.’
‘I see, you all stick together.’
‘We’re a team, Sir. We’re here to do a job. What we dislike intensely are obstacles placed in our way. Do you get my drift?’
‘Yes Inspector, I understand.’
‘Excellent. We’ll get on just fine from now on then. Have you given a statement?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘If you wait by the reception desk, my colleague and I will be with you shortly, Sir.’
‘Fucking arsehole,’ Kline said when Frye had wandered off into the hotel after giving his statement.
‘I couldn’t have put it better myself,’ he said.
They walked down the central stairs to the ground floor, which resembled more of a basement and discovered Perkins outside Room 13.
‘I bet you’re in seventh heaven here, aren’t you, Perkins?’ Quigg said to him.
‘It’s certainly very interesting. I planned to book myself in here for a two-week holiday in August.’
‘People actually stay here?’ Kline said.
‘Oh yes. This is the ultimate horror experience. There are the day- and night-time attractions in the theme park for visitors, who only come for a couple of hours and then leave again. They’re what you might expect – horror rides, trick or treat, kiddies’ entertainment, weird creatures wandering about all over the place, and lots of screaming and so forth. Then there are the hardcore attractions for horror aficionados like myself, which is where the money is.’
‘Don’t tell me, Perkins,’ Quigg said. ‘You pay them a thousand pounds, and they murder you?’
Perkins smiled like a ghoul. ‘You catch on quick, Inspector, but they stop just short of that.’
‘I’m glad to hear it, but if there’s been no murder why are we here?’
‘You’d better suit up.’
After they’d put the paper suits, boots, and gloves on, he led them into the room.
‘There was red slush, brains and slivers of flesh everywhere – ceiling, walls, and floor.
‘Keep on the walkway, please.’
‘It’s pig, isn’t it?’ Kline asked. ‘I mean, you’d expect to find something like this in Room 13 at a horror park, wouldn’t you?’
‘Room 13 is usually where it all happens, that’s why they don’t have a Room 13 in normal hotels. And no, it’s not pig.’
Quigg grunted. ‘It looks like someone filled a blender, and then forgot about the lid before switching it on.’
Perkins nodded. ‘Yes, it does, doesn’t it?’
‘So, you do a DNA analysis and find out who the victim is. Kline and I join up the dots and find the killer. We all go home.’
‘That’s certainly a good plan, Sir, but you’ve forgotten one thing.’
‘I’m listening?’
‘Up to now, we’ve identified eight people in this mess.’
‘Up to now? You mean there could be more?’
‘Yes, but that’s not all.’
‘You like your little secrets, don’t you? Come on, out with it, man.’
‘Mixed in with all these remains, we’ve found some strange biological material that we can’t identify.’
Kline laughed like someone demented. ‘You mean you’ve captured the DNA from a vampire, zombie, or werewolf? Wicked!’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Kline,’ Quigg said.
Perkins stared at him. ‘It’s not so ridiculous, Inspector.’
***
‘So, let me get this right, Perkins. You’re saying that as well as identifying eight people that have been butchered in this room, you’ve also found some DNA that could belong to vampires, zombies and/or werewolves?’
‘It’s amazing how you can twist my words. I say one thing, and you hear something completely different. Detective Kline was the one who mentioned DNA and those creatures. All I said was that we’ve found some strange biological material that we haven’t been able to identify yet. Also, in response to your comment, I said that the possibility of it belonging to one of those creatures wasn’t so far-fetched.’
‘By calling them “creatures”, aren’t you admitting that they exist?’
‘I admit nothing without my union rep’ present.’
‘A wise decision. I’m only interested in the dead people. The other biological material will probably belong to some obscure animal from Tasmani
a that you haven’t catalogued on the database yet. Focus on the people, Perkins. We have a murderer to catch.’
‘But you could tell me?’ Kline said, nudging him. ‘I’m interested in the strange DNA.’
‘No, he couldn’t, Kline. You’ll be too busy chasing your own tail to worry about fantasy creatures. In fact, you can go and find Mr Frye and get the details of who’s been staying in this room . . .’
‘I can tell you that,’ Perkins said. ‘Nobody stays in Room 13 and lives to tell the tale.’
Quigg’s eyes closed to slits. ‘The person who was staying in this room is dead?’
‘Yes, in this instance, but they also use that phrase in the brochure. Everybody wants to stay in Room 13 to see if they can survive the night.’
‘I presume they do?’
Perkins shrugged. ‘I suppose so. Although I haven’t met any actual survivors.’
‘So, all eight victims were guests . . . ?’
Perkins shook his head. ‘No. The person who booked this room for the night was a woman called Cora Jiggins. She was thirty-one, single, a mortuary assistant who came from Leicester. As for the other seven victims – I have no idea who they were.’
‘You didn’t say women stayed here as well.’
‘Does it make a difference?’
‘Well no, but it would have been good if you’d told me.’
‘Why shouldn’t women stay here?’ Kline challenged him.
‘No particular reason. I just don’t associate a horror theme park with women, that’s all.’
‘Women like to be frightened just as much as men.’
‘I don’t think we’ll get into that, Kline. Make a list.’
Kline took her notebook out. ‘Isn’t this just the best case, Sir?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Yesterday, I was bored to death. Today, I’m in a horror park up to my neck in blood and zombies.’
‘Blood maybe, but there are no zombies here.’
‘You haven’t been paying attention.’
‘Real ones.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. Right, I want you to find out from our friend Mr Frye who the owners are. I’d like to talk to . . .’
‘They’re American,’ Perkins chipped in again. ‘You might find it difficult talking to them if they’re in America.’
