The Exhibits in Mrs Salmon's Waxworks

by Tim Ellis

  'That's him. Has he got keys on him?'

  'I don't know who you think I am . . .' Keller protested.

  Jack smacked him on the back of the head with the butt of his handgun, searched his pockets and handed Quigg a bunch of keys.

  'Put your gloves on and no names,' he whispered to Rummage, before grabbing the plastic bag with the notebooks in and climbing out of the car. To Jack he said, 'Let's go into the house. Once we confirm what's in these notebooks, then I'll let you know what I plan.'

  'Okay.'

  They made their way across the road and into number 23. Jack instructed the two men with sub-machine guns who he'd brought with him to remain outside in the shadows.

  Quigg juggled with the keys until he found the one that fitted the lock and pushed the door open.

  Inside, while Jack watched Keller, Quigg and Rummage searched the place. As far as they could determine, there was no cellar.

  'Where's the cellar?' he said to Keller.

  'I don't have a cellar.'

  'You describe a cellar in your notebooks.'

  'They're not my notebooks. Who says they belong to me?'

  'They were found in your house.'

  'I don't know what you're talking about. I'd like you to leave now.'

  They had another look around.

  And when Quigg examined the bunch of keys Jack had removed from Keller, he saw the man turn his head and look away. He checked the keys again. Apart from the front door key, he had no idea what any of them were for and thought about walking round the house to eliminate each one, but then as he fingered a bulky electronic key that would normally open the central locking of a car, he saw Keller tense up. The key wasn't like any he'd ever seen. 'Where's your car?'

  Keller didn't say anything.

  Quigg began walking round pointing and pressing the button on the key until he heard a click. A built-in bookcase in the hallway slid into the wall next to it to reveal a heavy sound-proofed metal door. He found the key that unlocked the door on the keyring. There was a light switch on the wall that he pressed. Concrete steps led down to a cellar. He led Rummage down the steps into the cellar and they found a room set up similar to a laboratory with bookcases, workbenches, a stainless steel mortuary table, jars with human body parts inside, trays and trolleys filled with medical instruments . . . In one corner was a naked young woman in a cage, chained to the wall with a metal clamp around her neck. She appeared to be unconscious.

  He took the notebooks out of the plastic bag and stacked them on a bench. 'I think what's been written in those notebooks by Keller is the truth and nothing but the truth, wouldn't you agree?'

  Rummage nodded. 'Yes.'

  'Go outside, find a public telephone box, make the call to Lavender Hill and then go back to the car. Jack and I will organise things in here. Are you okay with that?'

  'What are you going to do?'

  'Keller's going to trip coming down those concrete steps and break his neck . . .'

  'You're going to kill him?'

  'I'm not, Jack is. Unless you'd like Keller to describe us to the police, the whole case against him falls apart and we become the focus of their investigation?'

  'No.'

  'Remember, this bastard has killed thirty-five young women . . .' He pointed to the woman in the cage. 'And she was next. She's about your age, isn't she?'

  'Yes.'

  'And when he reached J again, it could easily have been you, Jezebel.'

  'Okay.'

  'For this to work, he has to die. Don't worry, no one will mourn his loss. So, when the police arrive, the bookcase and the cellar door will be open, which is why you could hear the woman's screams . . .'

  'But she's unconscious.'

  'When you were knocking on the door, she wasn't. That's what the police will conclude, and I'm sure she won't remember whether she heard knocking and cried out. Anything you want to ask before you go?'

  'I don't think so.'

  'You wanted the excitement of London. Well, here it is.'

  'This wasn't really what I had in mind.'

  'The law, like God, works in mysterious ways, Rummage.'

  They both climbed the steps.

  Rummage made her way out through the front door.

  Quigg told Jack briefly what they'd found, what was in the notebooks and his plan.

  No sooner had he done so, than Jack had snapped Keller's neck as if it was a twig, stripped off his coat and trilby, and thrown him down the cellar steps.

  Quigg left the key in the metal door and double-checked everything was as it should be.

  Before they left he said to Jack, 'Thanks for your help.'

  'No problem.'

  'I have another favour to ask of you.'

  'Oh?'

  'I'd like you to take Rummage with you. I've just learned that she's addicted to painkillers. She's made herself homeless, has no money and owes a drug dealer twenty thousand pounds plus interest. She can't go to rehab, I can't have a drug addict as a partner, and if she continues to work she'll lose her job.'

  'You want me to kill her as well?'

  He smiled. 'Thanks for the offer, but no. I want you to lock her up somewhere and get her off the drugs. I'll arrange for her to be away on leave for the next three weeks. So that's how long you have. And then I'd like you to send her back to me clean.'

  Jack shook his head. 'Being a father is a lot more complicated than they ever tell you.'

  'Thanks, Jack.'

  They walked across the road to his car.

  Rummage returned. 'Okay. I made the call. They'll be here soon.'

  'Good work.'

  The two men that Jack had brought with him took one of Rummage's arms each.

  'What! What's happening, Sir?'

  'Are you ready to rehab, Rummage? I'll see you in three weeks.'

  'Please, Sir.'

  'You'll thank me afterwards.'

  'I promise I'll get myself straight.'

  'You need help, and Jack's going to give you that help. Goodbye, Rummage.'

  'Please don't do this, Sir.'

  Jack, and his two men with Rummage frogmarching between them, disappeared up the road, climbed into a van and drove away.

  Quigg slid into his car and waited.

  Police arrived, then an ambulance, forensics, detectives . . .

  He drove away.

  It wasn't policing in accordance with the 1984 Police and Criminal Evidence Act, but as far as he was concerned justice had been served.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Wednesday, December 4

  'Hello?' he managed to say into his phone. His mouth was as dry as the Atacama Desert in Chile.

  'What have you done, Quigg?'

  'Done! I haven't done anything. I'm in bed. I was asleep. Earlier I was doing things, but I'm sure you don't want to know the gory details about what I was doing then, do you? Why are you ringing me at ten to five in the morning anyway, Chief?'

  'Because the Commissioner called me.'

  'With good news about your promotion for suspending corrupt murder detective inspectors with second jobs as studs, I hope, Sir?'

  'I've been authorised to tell you that your suspension will be struck from the record as if it never happened; Professional Standards will be told to stand down; the report sanitized; and you can come back to work first thing this morning and continue solving the waxworks case.'

  'And I was really looking forward to a few days off as well. Did the Commissioner say why he was being so generous?'

  'You know very well why, Quigg.'

  'I'm sure I have no idea, Sir.'

  'Get rid of the pornographic videos and the extreme messages featuring you, the Commissioner and myself.'

  'You mean you and the Commissioner have had your identities hijacked as well? I'm flabbergasted, astonished and dumbfounded. Who would have thought?'

  'I could suspend you for insubordination, Quigg.'

  'That won't be necessary, Chief. I can't promise anything, but
I might know some people who could possibly help in removing the offensive material.'

  'You'd better.'

  'Oh, by the way. I've authorised three weeks' leave for DC Rummage, Sir.'

  'It hasn't gone through official channels.'

  'It was an urgent personal matter. I didn't think you'd mind.'

  'And what about a partner to keep you on the straight and narrow?'

  'I understand Constable Amies has applied for the National Detective Programme. I could give her the once over and see how she shapes up, if that's okay with you, Chief?'

  'It's highly unusual, but I suppose it will have to do.'

  'See you later, Sir. Enjoy the rest of your sleep and give my best to Mrs Belmarsh.'

  The call ended.

  He crept along to Lucy's room and let himself in.

  'Lucy?' he whispered into the blackness, feeling the way with his feet to make sure he didn't trip up.

  'Go away, Quigg.'

  'You were right, the Chief just called and said that if I get rid of the videos and messages, the suspension never happened. I've come to give you a big thank you.'

  'As much as I'd normally welcome your appreciation, I'm a bit tender in body and mind at the moment.'

  'Jack told me what happened.'

  'So you'll understand if I politely decline. However, the woman you met last night – Ramona – is still here and she hasn't had sex with a man in five years.'

  'Is that even possible?'

  'I don't know. It's not something I could do and live to tell the tale about. So, if you want to thank me, you could do that by thanking her, because she saved my life so that you could have more of me.'

  'I feel overwhelmed with gratitude. Is there enough room for three in your bed?'

  'I'll go and sleep in your bed and let you minister to the needy.'

  'Leave it with me. The needy are my speciality.'

  'She was a Petty Officer in the Navy.'

  'Is she awake?'

  'No. It'll be a nice surprise for her.'

  'Okay.'

  Lucy climbed out of the bed.

  He climbed in and began massaging the body next to him.

  'Mmmm!'

  'It's Quigg.'

  She sat upright. 'Where's Lucy?'

  'In my bed.'

  'And why are you here?'

  'She said you hadn't had sex with a man in five years. I'm here to correct that anomaly.'

  'I don't know.'

  He caressed her breast. 'Which is exactly why I'm here.'

  'I'm not on the pill, so you'll have to wear a condom. No glove, no love. Isn't that what Lucy says.'

  'Lucy says far too much in my view.'

  He heard her scrabbling around and then felt a condom being slipped over his erection. 'That was quick.'

  'It's all coming back to me now.'

  'Let's get to it then.'

  She came almost immediately. 'Jesus! I'd forgotten how good it was.'

  'That was only the first salvo.'

  'Then you'd better reload, sailor.'

  After he'd satisfied her need and left her racked with multiple orgasms on the bed, he walked back along the corridor to his own room, took a shower and began getting dressed.

  'Why is your erection the first thing I see when I open my eyes, Quigg?'

  'Because I was just thinking about what I'd like to do to you if I had the time and you were up to it.'

  'Which I'm not.'

  'And, thanks to you, I still have a job to go to.'

  'What about Ramona?'

  'I don't think you'll get any complaints.'

  'There's something seriously wrong with you, Quigg.'

  'In a good way?'

  'That's debateable.' She sat up naked and adopted the Lotus position. 'Do you want me to do something with that thing?' she said, nodding at his erection.

  'Hit it with a hammer, you mean?'

  She grinned, wrapped her arms around her chest and said, 'Don't make me laugh, it hurts.'

  'Thanks for the offer, but you know how one thing leads to another. I haven't got the time, and you haven't got the inclination, so I suggest we let sleeping dragons lie.'

  'You're probably right. Maybe tonight?'

  'Tonight would be good if you're up to it.'

  'We'll see.' She left his room and went back to her own.

  He finished getting dressed, walked along the hallway to Duffy's room and sat on her bed.

  'I'm too tired, Sir.'

  'As much as I'd like to, I haven't got the time. Tonight would be good though. I just came to tell you that we saved the woman and Mister Keller got his just desserts.'

  'I'm glad.'

  'And as far as you're concerned, you know nothing about him, his notebooks or any chained up women in cellars.'

  'I have no idea what you're talking about, Sir.'

  'Very good.'

  'Did you know that Ruth resigned from her job yesterday?'

  'No, I didn't.'

  'She said something about you being in pornographic movies, but I didn't believe that.'

  'And quite right too. Oh! And that phone call I received the other night was my mother.'

  'How is she?'

  'Still in Myanmar and living the simple life. She told me that I have a sister call Yuzana, which means orange jasmine.'

  'Is she coming home?'

  'She says she's never coming home. I'm an orphan.'

  'Maybe someone will adopt you, Sir.'

  'Maybe.' He leaned over, kissed her on the lips and caressed her breast. 'See you later, Duffy.'

  'Mmmm,' she said, and turned over so that her naked backside was sticking out from beneath the quilt. His penis would have liked nothing better than to have spooned her, but with great difficulty he reined in the monster.

  He went to Ruth's room and sat on her bed.

  She opened one eye.

  'I believe you have no job to go to today?'

  'That bastard.'

  'The Chief called me earlier. It appears that pornographic videos of the Commissioner and the Chief have been circulating together with extremist posts on the internet with their names all over them. He said that my suspension is null and void and everything will be back to normal if the offensive material can be removed. I said I'd see what I could do. I suspect you could have your job back if you wanted it?'

  'That bastard! I would not work for that bastard again if they paid me.'

  'They did pay you! Nearly triple my salary as I recall.'

  'I do not care. I am an investigative journalist, not a Director of Communications. I will do what I want to do, not what they want me to do.'

  'I prefer you as an investigative journalist.'

  'You do?'

  'Yes. You're much sexier when you have the bit between your teeth.'

  'I am?' She pushed the quilt down to reveal her naked breasts. 'I am feeling very sexy right now.'

  He leaned over, kissed her on the lips, caressed her breast and then stood up. 'Unfortunately, I still have a job and I need to go.'

  'Oh, Quigg!'

  'Sorry. Tonight would be good though.'

  He shuffled out into the kitchen where he made two pieces of buttered toast and a coffee.

  While he was eating, someone new came in. She was in her early twenties with striking blonde hair to her shoulders, bright blue eyes, small breasts and the body of a tomboy.

  'Good morning!' he said. 'And who might you be?'

  'I might be your new nanny – Jessie Doll.'

  'Ah!' He thrust his toasty hand out and shook hers. It was small and slender. She wore a cream Angora woollen short-sleeved top beneath a pair of denim dungaree shorts. 'Pleased to meet you, Jessie Doll. I'm Quigg.'

  'The police inspector?'

  'At your service.'

  'You have some lovely children.'

  'Thank you. Is your name Scandinavian?'

  'German. I come from a small Bavarian town called Rothenburg ob der Tauber.'

  'Fascinat
ing. I'd love to hear all about it.' He glanced at the clock on the wall. 'But not now. Now I have to go to work. I hope you enjoy your time here, Jessie Doll.'

  'I'm sure I will, Mister Quigg.'

  Smiling benevolently he said, 'Just Quigg will do.'

  On his way to the car he called Nicky Wright.

  'What do you want, Quigg?'

  'Our scam didn't work.'

  'I know.'

  'Anyway, Rummage has gone on three weeks' leave, so I'm bereft of a partner.'

  'I'm an old aged pensioner, remember.'

  'The sexiest one I've ever seen. But no, as much as I'd like you to partner me in your suspender belt, stockings and baby bump, I was thinking of more of Constable Amies. She's applied for the National Detective Programme, hasn't she? I could take her on for three weeks and see how she shapes up.'

  'Shapes up! Is that code for sex?'

  He laughed. 'You have such a suspicious mind, Nicky.'

  'That's because I'm talking to you, Quigg.'

  'It's not code for anything. I'm being up front and genuine with my offer.'

  'From this morning?'

  'In civilian clothes – slacks, not a mini skirt.'

  'I'll let her know, but if she comes back pregnant she's off the programme.'

  'She won't. Or, at least, if she does, it won't be anything to do with me.'

  'And I'll send someone else to man the command centre.'

  'You're a brick.'

  'Is that code for OAP?'

  Before he could respond, she disconnected him.

  He'd make it up to her odd jobbing on Saturday. He switched the engine of his Mercedes on, opened the electronic gate and drove out of the compound. The man on the news was harping on about how, through the diligence and hard work of detectives at the Met, they had uncovered a serial killer living just round the corner from Lavender Hill Police Station, and that a woman, who had been reported missing in November, was found chained up in the killer's cellar. The perpetrator had taken his own life before the police could arrest him, but he had left six notebooks detailing his prolific crimes.

  He grunted, turned radio off and instead thought of Jessie Doll. What was Lucy thinking about employing her. She knew what he was like. She knew he'd be obsessing over her. She knew that he'd have sex with her the first chance he got. Then, his mind jumped to Rummage. He hoped she was all right. What choice did he have? She was an addict, and addicts were no good to anyone. But wasn't he an addict as well? That's what Lucy had said – a sex addict. A sex addict with a new German nanny in a pair of short denim dungarees and a tight woolly top. Jesus! What was wrong with him? Well, he was seeing the renowned psychiatrist Professor Alice Neuville at two o'clock tomorrow afternoon in her Harley Street surgery – maybe she could help him.