Dead Lands

by Lloyd Otis

  ‘Do you have anyone that can corroborate this?’

  ‘I can.’ It was the man operating the bar. ‘Simon has been here. We’ve worked the same shift officers.’

  A girl walked past and caught the barman’s words.

  ‘Are these lot police?’ She didn’t wait for the answer. ‘They must be, I can smell the filth on ’em. Simon’s been here for ages, we can’t get rid of him.’ Then she left satisfied, having played a small part in her boss’s exoneration. Breck refocused his attention back on Simon.

  ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’

  ‘Can’t we talk here?’

  ‘Let’s go to the managers’ office,’ Kearns suggested. ‘That’s the best place.’

  Simon panicked. Riley would go mental if he was disturbed and ended up being embarrassed. With little choice Simon slowed his walk when they left the main area of the club and this continued all the way through the corridor to the manager’s office. As he neared he began to raise his voice, hoping Riley and Delilah would hear him.

  ‘I wish you’d tell me what this is about, officers, I’m so tired and my shift ends soon!’

  Kearns clocked on. ‘Why have you raised your voice, you suffering from something?’ She quickened her steps and brought Simon with her by dragging him along.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing?’ he protested.

  Breck knew better than to intervene and at the door, Simon pulled out a set of keys then dropped them – on purpose. Kearns picked them up, now guessing he had something inside he preferred them not to see. She forced him to select the right key and he took an age to open the door that he never locked in the first place. An impatient Kearns barged past him and Simon feared the worse but didn’t hear anything. Eventually he walked in with Breck following close behind.

  Riley and Delilah had left. Simon sat down with a smirk on his face while Breck stood and fired off the questions.

  ‘Do you know Geraldine Van Bruen?’

  ‘Yes, she’s my girlfriend.’

  ‘Well I’m afraid that we have a bit of bad news.’

  The smirk slipped off of Simon’s face. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘Geraldine has died. She was found in her flat earlier today.’ Simon stared at them as if the words didn’t make any sense. ‘The death is being treated as suspicious at present so I can’t tell you any more.’

  ‘What does that mean? I don’t understand.’

  ‘It means that the cause is inconclusive and we’re trying to determine it.’

  Simon became more confused by the minute. Breck positioned himself on the side of the desk and had a quick look at the security camera monitors. There were two of them. One picked up the bar area and the other spied on the punters entering the club. Breck rewound the tape and soon confirmed Simon’s presence inside. When he spoke to him next, he wore a look of sympathy.

  ‘We believe that Geraldine was murdered, Simon.’ Kearns shot Breck a disbelieving stare at his unforgiving bluntness. ‘Do you know anyone that would want to harm her in any way?’

  Simon shook his head while the tears began to stream down his face. He refused to wipe them away.

  ‘Is there anything you can tell us that would be helpful?’

  ‘Dunno.’

  ‘Were you two close?’

  ‘Real close.’

  ‘So it was a serious relationship?’

  ‘We are…were serious. We had things in common and both hated law and order. Liked to do whatever we wanted.’

  ‘The punk movement, right?’

  ‘Yeah and I got her a friendship ring. Here’s my one.’ Simon held a hand up and showed Breck his ring. A silver band with a Greek key pattern.

  ‘I need to know. Did you two have an argument recently or anything like that?’

  Simon slammed his fists down and sprung to his feet as the anger poured out. ‘I didn’t kill her!’

  It shocked Breck so he jumped off the table, slipped a hand inside his coat and thrust his fingers into the knuckle duster he had brought along. ‘Relax. Getting wound up like this is not going to bring her back.’

  Simon zoned out and whacked the telephone off the desk. He looked like a bull about to charge. Kearns attempted to calm the situation.

  ‘We know you’re upset, love. It’s OK to be upset but we’re trying to help and want to catch whoever did this.’

  ‘Fuck off.’

  ‘Simon, please. My DI will put you down if you become a danger to us. Geraldine wouldn’t want you to be like this.’

  Those words seemed to seal it. Simon inhaled and exhaled at a furious pace then groaned before his legs gave way. He slumped back down in the seat and cradled his head in his hands. Breck slid his fingers out of the knuckle duster and put a hand on his shoulder.

  ‘I know it’s hard and a bit of a shock for you but if there’s anything that springs to mind in the next couple of days please let us know.’ Breck turned to Kearns. ‘Wait here with him for an officer to arrive, then bring him home.’

  ‘I’ll make sure he’s all right then look into the man that followed Janet Maskell lead you acquired through Benjamin Genta.’

  ‘Great. I’ll go to see Wade Van Bruen. See you in a bit.’

  Kearns pulled out her radio and called for the nearest squad car to pick her up at the Starlight Club then cast an eye on Simon, a young lad in a big man’s world. One that would swallow him up if he wasn’t careful.

  Geraldine’s father, Wade Van Bruen, had already been notified. The next conversation with him wasn’t one Breck looked forward to but one he had to have.

  On the bustling streets outside the club Ray Riley kept his head down as he left via its rear exit. To meet Breck and Kearns in the compromising position wasn’t part of the plan. Simon would keep his mouth shut about his visits. That’s all that mattered.

  Riley opened the door to his car, grateful for the security camera in the manager’s office that allowed him to spot his colleagues when they entered. Ray Riley, one step ahead as usual, just the way he liked it.

  TWENTY NINE

  The embossed Van Bruen logo looked impressive but a sombre mood had already engulfed the entire company after news of Geraldine’s death. It spread quicker than wildfire. Business was business and it remained open although Geraldine’s father’s grief increased after having just returned from identifying her body. Staying in the building helped him and being in a familiar environment made him feel safe. Funeral arrangements were pushed to the back of his mind. He couldn’t deal with those yet.

  The receptionist with high cheekbones and a perfect fringe, directed Breck to the CEO’s office so that when he walked out of the lift, he’d know where to go. He reached the correct floor and saw two security men guarding Van Bruen’s office. Their threatening stance surprised him, even after he flashed his identification and the not-so-slim one stared at it in a way that suggested he had failed to complete his school education.

  ‘No one’s allowed in.’

  ‘Mr Van Bruen’s expecting me.’

  ‘No one!’

  A flicker of tension grew. ‘You’re making this harder than it needs to be.’

  ‘I’ve got a job to do.’

  The not-so-slim one went to push Breck away but before he could touch him, Breck took a step back, grabbed his fingers then twisted them. He cried out in pain.

  ‘Let go!’ he begged.

  Breck released him and prepared for whatever would happen next but the slimmer of the two guards had a quiet word with his colleague. Then both men stepped aside. Breck entered Van Bruen’s office and saw the man himself, standing by a window while staring down onto the streets below with his hands locked behind his back.

  ‘Mr Van Bruen.’

  Wade Van Bruen didn’t face him, not yet anyhow. ‘I know who you are,’ he said. ‘The first thing I did was find out who you were after we first met. How long you’ve been serving, who you served under and what you’re like.’

  Breck walked to the centre of the roo
m then Van Bruen turned around.

  ‘May I ask why?’

  ‘Because you were investigating a murder involving one of my employees. Now you will be investigating my daughter’s murder too. Have a seat, please.’

  Breck sat down at the pine desk and his own reflection shimmied off the surface. Van Bruen moved away from the window to step across the thick carpet to the safety of his seat. The office didn’t contain much clutter and the sheer size appeared to be just a statement of power and wealth. Close up, Breck could see that Van Bruen’s eyes were red from crying. He watched him as he pulled out a drawer.

  ‘Do you have children, Mr Breck?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well let me tell you that even when they grow up you still remember when they were young. When they depended on you. As a parent you never forget that so let me show you what I want to do to the bastard that killed my little girl.’

  Breck raised a hand. He couldn’t let Van Bruen’s grief dictate the proceedings.

  ‘I know you’re going through a difficult time, Mr Van Bruen, but I need to ask you a few routine questions.’ Van Bruen gestured his agreement by the use of a hand and pulled out a box of tablets from his drawer. When he saw that the box was empty he tossed it to the side and slammed the drawer shut.

  ‘Was she in any trouble?’

  Van Bruen shook his head. ‘We both know my employee Alexander Troy is behind this, as a sort of twisted revenge. He’s sick and I want the son of a bitch caught.’

  ‘At this stage sir, we don’t know for certain.’

  The phone rang and Van Bruen switched his attention towards it without any desire to pick it up. The phone shrilled until it died and Van Bruen’s mood worried Breck. He considered if it was worthwhile continuing.

  ‘Do you need a moment?’

  ‘No, Mr Breck. Did you know that Geraldine’s mom died when she was two-years old? I had to make sure she’d be safe always and thought that would be the case if she studied over here in England.’ Van Bruen’s eyes began to wander, as if trying to remember the thing they were supposed to find.

  ‘When did you last speak with your daughter?’

  ‘Day before last. We had planned to meet up tonight for dinner. In some ways, she was becoming a ghost figure to me and I wanted us to reconnect.’

  A knock at the door interrupted the conversation. Lizzie Daniels entered. She paused as soon as she saw Breck but Van Bruen beckoned her in.

  ‘Do you need anything, Wade?’

  ‘More aspirin,’ Van Bruen said. ‘My head hurts.’

  Lizzie picked the phone and buzzed through to Van Bruen’s secretary. ‘Bring in two aspirin and a glass of water please.’ Then she turned to Breck. ‘Sorry to interrupt.’

  ‘That’s fine. It’s good that you’re around to support Mr Van Bruen.’

  ‘I don’t know what’s going on, first Janet and now this.’

  She threw a worried glance over and Breck left his seat to walk over to the window where the CEO had stood just moments earlier, intrigued to see what he had seen. People, taxis, red buses. A vibrant London. Breck turned around and aimed a question at Lizzie.

  ‘Did Geraldine ever meet Troy?’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said.

  Van Bruen jumped in. ‘Are you saying that my daughter and Troy we’re together?’

  ‘No I’m not. Troy is in a relationship and your daughter had a boyfriend who we’ve spoken to. I just want to know if they have ever met.’

  ‘Is my daughter’s boyfriend a suspect?’

  ‘No. Simon’s devastated and happened to be working late at the time of her death so he’s in the clear.’

  ‘Saw him once and told her to end it. Of course, she didn’t listen to me and became involved with the punk scene. I hoped it would just be a phase,’ Van Bruen reflected.

  Breck opened his notepad. ‘From what we know Geraldine was last seen arriving home alone so I have officers speaking to a host of her student friends to see if we can gain any significant information.’

  ‘Tell me, Detective Breck, do you believe Troy is responsible?’

  ‘I don’t know but we found a cheque written out in his name.’

  ‘Is this about money?’

  ‘Not sure but I shouldn’t have even told you that, I’m sorry.’ Breck figured that there was nothing much more to gain by questioning the mourning father any further. ‘If Troy makes any contact Mr Van Bruen please let me know.’

  ‘I’ll kill him myself first if he does.’

  Breck understood how he felt, how any father would feel in his situation and left the office, ignoring the glare from the two security guards until a recollection of the past forced him to stop.

  ‘Wesley Thomas. I remember you now, I locked up your dad.’ The grimace from the not-so-slim Wesley became fierce. ‘How’s he doing? No, don’t answer that I can only guess. He’s got a fifteen-year stretch because he fell asleep at the wheel. Not a good advert for a getaway driver is it?’

  By this point, Wesley’s colleague held him back, much to Breck’s amusement. After getting the reaction he sought, he walked away and left the Van Bruen building.

  *

  Breck neared his desk at the station to hear the buzzing tap of Kearns’ fingertips on the Olivetti Letterra, typing up the latest report.

  ‘How’s Simon doing?’

  ‘He’s in pieces but his dad was at home. He looked like a waste of space to me but at least the boy’s not alone. He has a lot of anger buried inside him so this won’t help but what can we do?’

  ‘Not much I suppose. Any news on the man that spied on Janet Maskell?’

  ‘No, nothing. It’s a total dead end. I checked the most obvious candidates on our list but I couldn’t prove any of them followed her that day.’ Breck was disappointed,

  Kearns paused the typing. ‘How did it go with Wade Van Bruen?’

  ‘Painful to say the least and rather sad watching this powerful man that can get anything he wants, be in so much pain.’

  Kearns slid over a message for Breck. He angled his head sideways to read it.

  ‘Duty calls,’ she teased. ‘You were the one that wanted everything fast tracked.’

  ‘Thanks for the reminder.’ Just the thought of the mortuary – this time for Geraldine’ post-mortem – made him queasy. ‘Well seeing as you filled in for her with Janet Maskell’s one, get Beatrice on it.’

  ‘I knew you’d say that. It’s already sorted and she’s on her way. Once it’s done Frank will prioritise getting his report finished to help us.’

  THIRTY

  Breck waited for Beatrice by hovering around her desk, eager to hear Bart’s findings from Geraldine Van Bruen’s post-mortem, and Frank’s official cause of death. To pass the time, he considered giving Molly a ring to see how she was doing when Beatrice appeared.

  ‘Who are you waiting for?’ she asked.

  ‘You.’

  She offered a tired response. ‘Me?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ She didn’t want to say so Breck pushed her. ‘Come on, spill it.’

  ‘I thought it’d be easier working alongside you by drawing the line after our chat in the function room, but it’s proving difficult sometimes.’

  ‘I don’t get it. Since then you said you wanted to partner me and that I’d be a good mentor.’

  ‘All those things are true but sometimes when I get a quiet moment and think about us...’

  Breck stamped out this pattern of thought before it went any further. ‘It’ll be fine, we’re working together well. As far as I see it, we shared a drunken kiss that’s all. We didn’t sleep with each other so don’t worry about it,’ Breck, said, gaining the confidence to admit what had happened between them.

  Beatrice considered his words unsure of whether or not to accept them as the truth while she dug out the report and her notes from her handbag. The notes were separated so she put them into order before she began.

  ‘Ignore me, I’m being silly.’
<
br />   ‘Right, what have you got for me?’

  ‘As you instructed Kearns when you inspected the body, Geraldine was checked for traces of semen but there was no evidence of rape. Bart said that the temperature of the body indicated she’d been deceased for several hours before the officers found her.’

  ‘Several hours. OK, just as Frank said,’ Breck recalled.

  ‘Her body displayed traces of cocaine and cannabis use, and the jagged teeth pattern against the bone of the severed finger tells us it was caused by a serrated blade. Bart found haemorrhaged tissue at the injury point.’

  ‘Cause of death?’

  Beatrice flipped over to the next page. ‘As recorded by Frank at the Coroner’s Office, asphyxiation. From what Bart said, her windpipe had been broken and he found haemorrhaging around the eyes. Bart identified two ligature marks around the neck which meant that her oxygen supply became limited at some point. He also found evidence of cyanosis around her lips.’

  ‘I’m no expert but the asphyxiation suggests the mutilation occurred after death. Anything else?’

  ‘Bart mentioned that the severance of her finger was not done with any surgical skill, and that a blunt instrument caused the head wound that cracked her skull.’

  ‘Thank you, Bea, that’s very helpful.’

  Janet Maskell and Geraldine Van Bruen had both been strangled in their flats. Both victims were female, and both were linked together through the Van Bruen name. Breck made his mind up. It had to be the same killer. Regardless of what Kearns had said or would continue to say, his eyes remained on the prime suspect as the one to bring in. First, Breck needed to anticipate Troy’s next move and he knew how to play dirty if he had to. The B&B lead that Jacob Simpson provided now grew more important by the second.

  THIRTY ONE

  It happened by accident. Breck found Kearns sitting in Bashir’s office again and they were talking at length, but Bashir spotted Troy watching and raised his voice. It prompted Kearns to perform an awkward shift in her seat. It wasn’t long before Bashir called Breck in and Kearns switched the conversation when he entered.