Jacob's Ladder (Stone & Randall 1)

by Ellis, Tim

  Leaving the clothes where they fell, he was surprised that he didn’t feel self-conscious. Only Sarah had ever seen him naked. He looked at himself in the long mirror and was disappointed with what he saw. He used to be a lean mean fighting machine, but now – at fifty-two – there was no six-pack, no rippling muscles, and no black hairs. Now, a small paunch was beginning to form as if he was in the early stages of pregnancy, the muscles were stringy, the skin was wrinkled and sagging, and his mat of curly black body hair had turned a wiry grey. Old age had crept in and acquired a foothold. If he hadn’t planned on joining Sarah and the kids, he’d be on the slippery slope to dementia and the old people’s home.

  He turned the shower on and stepped into the bath. The hot water cascaded over his hair and spiralled down his body. It felt good. He closed his eyes and let the warmth ease the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders.

  Hands began to soap him, and he felt the soft nakedness of Kiri pressing into him as her fingers moved over his body. He turned around.

  Afterwards, after he’d made love to Kiri twice, after he’d showered properly and dried himself. He went through into the brightly-lit kitchen cum dining room with a towel wrapped around his waist and sat down at the pine table opposite a door that led out onto a small balcony.

  Kiri passed him beans on toast with grated cheese on top and a mug of coffee.

  ‘To keep your strength up,’ she said.

  ‘You’re saying I’m old and weak?’

  She laughed.

  It was the first time he had seen her with her hair down. He thought she looked beautiful and smiled at the thought of her white pubic hair.

  ‘What?’ she said.

  ‘I was just thinking about your hair, you know?’

  ‘I should have shaved it all off, then you wouldn’t have seen it.’

  ‘It looked…’

  ‘You’re not going to start that again, are you?’

  They both laughed. ‘No… I suppose I’d better not.’

  She wore a thin floral-print cotton dressing gown, and sat across from him nursing a mug of tea and watching him.

  It hadn’t been that long since he’d eaten, but he wolfed the beans on toast down as if he’d been fasting for a week. When he’d finished, he stood up, filled the sink and washed up. ‘Why me?’ he asked with his back to her.

  ‘I knew who you were as soon as you walked in that first time, you know?’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ he said drying the pan, plate and cutlery, and then opening the cupboards and draws to search out where everything went.

  ‘I’d been watching the news, and I remember when you were convicted a year ago. I had a feeling you weren’t guilty then.’

  ‘I should have had you on my defence team. So, why me?’ he asked again.

  ‘I like older men, they’re more dependable, and they don’t cheat on you.’

  ‘That doesn’t explain why a beautiful young woman lives alone. I’m sure I wasn’t the first old codger to come along?’

  ‘I was married at eighteen. It lasted two years, then he cheated on me and I threw him out. Since then, I haven’t really bothered with men.’

  ‘But there’s been a few?’

  ‘You make it sound as if they’ve been queuing down the street like they do for concert tickets.’

  ‘I’d queue.’

  She smiled. ‘There’ve been three men. They wanted marriage, commitment, children, and they wanted to control me. I wasn’t ready for any of that. I wanted to keep my independence’

  ‘I’m not planning on staying around.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘After I’ve finished what I’m doing, I’m going somewhere else.’

  She was quiet for some time staring into the mug between her hands. ‘You’re going to find the person that murdered your family, kill him, and then kill yourself, aren’t you?’

  ‘That’s my business.’

  ‘Whether you like it or not, it’s my business now. I said I could help you, but I need time – you need time. Unless, of course, this means nothing and is simply a one night stand?’

  ‘I thought you didn’t want commitment?’

  ‘I want more than one night.’

  ‘Am I staying the night?’

  ‘It depends on whether you’ll be around for a while?’

  ‘I’ll be around.’

  ‘Then you can stay, but you need to start looking after yourself. I can’t do with smelly men in my flat.’

  ‘How many have you got?’

  ‘The queue starts forming at about…’ She took his hand and led him back to the bedroom.

  They made love slowly, and afterwards, in the darkness, he realised that he hadn’t thought of Sarah once. Riddled with guilt, his tears soaked the pillow until sleep enveloped him.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Molly returned to the station. It was six-twenty and she had time to kill. Although she was tired, she needed to keep busy if she was to stay awake. First, she photographed the incident boards again and sent the images to Randall. Second, she wrote and sent her email report to the Chief. It took her three-quarters of an hour to make it sound as though she still knew what she was doing. After that, she went to the toilet, made a coffee, and began wading through the paperwork in her intray.

  At seven thirty-five she packed everything up, took her briefcase down to the car, and then began walking along King Street to Hammersmith tube station to meet Andrew.

  As she walked, she realised that she hadn’t thought about her schizophrenia all afternoon. Would Randall call her if he got a call? He probably would. Now that Pike was officially off the suspect list, Randall was her only chance of catching him. She had no other option but to trust him. She would need to concentrate on Jacob Hansen, until they found him living with the homeless people in a box underneath a bridge somewhere – then what? She desperately wanted to solve the case. Failure would be too unbearable. How could she live with herself if she didn’t get justice for all those families? She had to find the killer. Although she hated the whole idea of working with Randall, of leading a double life, of breaking the law, she knew that if anyone could find the murderer it was Randall.

  Was this the only way criminals could be brought to justice now, by having a partner working outside the law like an alter ego? One who could do things that a detective on the inside couldn’t do. A person who could ignore restraining orders, rules of evidence, human rights, cries of harassment, and the media to get the job done. Should criminals have rights? Didn’t they forfeit those rights by trampling all over those of others? For far too long the criminals have used the very law they stick a finger up at, to hide behind when they get caught. Maybe the worm has turned. With Randall on the outside, there’s a chance they could find the killer now. Hadn’t he already done things that she could never have done, and found out things that she would never have found out? If Pike was innocent then no harm would be done, but if he were guilty then he wouldn’t be able to hide from Randall.

  Were there two killers? It would certainly explain Pike’s ability to be in two places at the same time. If there was a second killer, how were they communicating? Would Pike’s phone records give them a clue? She wondered if Randall had looked at the records yet. She gave him a ring, but there was no answer. Maybe he was out breaking the law again.

  Andrew was standing outside Hammersmith tube station with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, and a long woollen scarf doubled and knotted around his mouth and nose.

  ‘Thank God,’ he said. ‘Another five minutes and I think I would probably have succumbed to hypothermia, possibly frostbite. You would have had to have stripped off all your clothes, and re-warmed me with your body heat in a sleeping bag.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you’d have liked that. It’s not that cold, anyway.’

  ‘I’m cold-blooded. I need to bathe in a hot sun. Winter is fine through a double-glazed window standing in a centrally heated room.’

  ‘Is this
the same room that naked women stand in so that the swans will come out and swim on the Serpentine.’

  ‘The very same one. How did you know?’

  ‘An educated guess.’

  She linked his arm and they walked together along Shepherd’s Bush Road, past the Christian Healing Mission, the Cape Cod Fish Shop, the post office, Derek’s florists, and the Bath and Kitchen Emporium, until they reached the Cochin Vietnamese Restaurant opposite the superstore.

  Andrew had phoned earlier to book and they were quickly shown to their table. It was a large noisy room with an astounding array of customers and Vietnamese waiters/waitresses coming and going like worker ants, each with their own allotted place in the collective. She hadn’t realised there were so many Vietnamese people living in Hammersmith.

  Molly thought that the restaurant looked like a school dining room with its plastic orange chairs and basic wooden tables. There was linoleum instead of a deep pile carpet on the floor. It all looked very sparse with bright hanging lights, bare walls, and tall green ferns in huge plastic pots.

  A waiter took their order. Andrew chose the Cari – a prawn and chicken curry with rice, she had the Goi salad. Afterwards – and to hell with counting the calories – they drooled over banana fritters with honey and ginger ice cream. To wash it down, Andrew selected a bottle of Chianti.

  ‘I know it looks very basic, but apparently the reviewers are raving about the food, so I thought the least we could do was try it out.'

  ‘I very rarely went out for a meal before, so it’s nice to try somewhere new.’

  A different waiter brought the wine and filled their glasses.

  ‘We’ll need to change all that, Molly Stone.’ He held up his glass of wine. She reciprocated. They chinked glasses and he said, ‘To us and to different places.’

  ‘To us and different places,’ she repeated, but then she wondered what the hell she was thinking of. ‘I’ve already changed. I’ve been out more times since Thursday than in the whole of the previous year. It would be nice to spend an evening in now, munching chocolates and watching television.’

  ‘Just say the word. I have chocolates from the best chocolatiers in Belgium, the softest sofa in England, and a television the size of a barn door.’

  She laughed. ‘When this case is over, Andrew.’

  His brow creased. ‘After that, won’t there be another case?’

  ‘Yes, but not as intense as this one.’

  ‘I saw you and Mr Pike on the news, do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘No thank you. I’ve had a whole day of talking about the case, I want to forget all about it now and enjoy myself.’

  Another waiter brought their food. It all appeared very quick and efficient, a bit like a conveyor belt, she thought. As they ate, they chatted away about nothing and everything. No sooner had they devoured the main course than banana fritters drowning in melting honey and ginger ice cream was thrust under their nose. She had the feeling that the Cochin motto was: Get them in, feed them, and get them out. A quick turnaround was the essence of increased profits.

  They were back out in the freezing cold by quarter to ten. Once they’d finished their desert the waiters were hovering like hyenas waiting to chase them off so that they could clear the table and hurry more diners in.

  ‘It’s still early,’ Andrew said.

  ‘For people on the night shift,’ she parried.

  ‘We could…’

  ‘I’m going home, Andrew.’

  ‘I could…’

  ‘Alone. I’ve been working all day, and I have to travel to Broadmoor tomorrow.’

  ‘What about…’

  ‘Ring me, we’ll see.’ She had to keep him at arm’s length until Friday, until she knew whether she was a schizophrenic or not.

  He walked her back to her car. They kissed, and she pressed into him. She didn’t want to push him away completely, just enough to give her some time.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Goodnight, Andrew.’

  Her dark thoughts returned as she drove home.

  Day Four

  Sunday, 8th November

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  ‘Please, no!’ Randall screamed.

  He jerked up in bed, opened his eyes in the darkness, and felt the sweat spiralling down his face. His hands were clenched tight, and his breathing came in short gasps as if he’d run a marathon in two hours ten minutes. As in all of his nightmares, he was forced to watch a shadowy figure butcher his family.

  Kiri’s digital clock displayed five to two. She put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back down to the pillow. Holding him until he drifted off to sleep again, but it was only a short respite. He woke up two more times before the nightmares ended at five o’clock when the alarm buzzed.

  ‘Is it like that every night?’ Kiri asked as she slid out of bed and stood naked in front of him.

  ‘Sometimes it’s worse. When they released me from Springfield, the psychiatrist said I didn’t need the anti-psychotic drugs anymore. Some nights I can’t sleep at all.’

  ‘If you’re going to stay here, you’ll need to go to the doctors and get something to help you sleep.’ She padded naked to the bathroom and said before shutting the door, ‘They should never have made you go cold turkey.’

  ‘I don’t have a doctor,’ he called through the door.

  He heard the toilet flush. ‘You can go to my doctors today and see if they’ll take you on,’ she shouted. ‘Right, don’t talk to me now, I’m getting in the shower.’

  The next thing he knew, Kiri was shaking him awake. She was fully dressed with her hair pinned up in that precarious way. He pulled her to him and kissed her.

  ‘I look a mess,’ she said.

  ‘How can that be, you’ve only just had a shower and put your make-up on?’ Although, he noticed that her make-up was limited to a hint of something round her eyes and cheeks. ‘You look beautiful.’

  ‘It’s quarter to six, I must go down to the café to prepare and open up.’

  ‘You could open late?’

  Noticing a suspicious lump beneath the quilt, she wriggled free of his embrace. ‘I see where this is leading.’

  He grinned.

  ‘I’ve left the doctor’s name, address, and telephone number on the kitchen table. Come down whenever you’re ready and I’ll give you breakfast.’

  ‘You could give me breakfast now.’

  ‘Huh.’

  He really needed the toilet, but he closed his eyes, lay back, and ignored the signals from his bladder. When he opened them again, it was eight fifteen and he had a stabbing pain in his abdomen.

  After peeing, showering, and putting yesterday’s smelly clothes back on, he phoned Kiri’s doctors and arranged an appointment for eleven twenty, then went down to the café for breakfast. He had no toothbrush or razor with him, and decided to go back to his own flat after breakfast to shave, brush his teeth, and change his clothes.

  ‘So, you keep me awake all night,’ Kiri said after he’d sat down at a table near the counter, ‘and then you have a lie in after I’ve gone to work?’

  ‘Is that how you talk to all your customers? I’ll have a full English, two pieces of toast, and a mug of tea please, Miss.’

  ‘What about the doctors?’

  ‘Appointment at twenty past eleven.’

  ‘Good. I might let you come up and see me again tonight then.’

  When he’d finished breakfast he kissed Kiri goodbye and walked back to his own flat. After shaving, brushing his teeth, and changing his clothes, he rang Athena.

  ‘I was wondering if you’d forgotten my number?’ he said when she answered.

  ‘I have an eidetic memory.’

  He had no idea what that was and guessed, ‘Photographic?’

  ‘Yes, which means I could never forget your phone number.’

  ‘So, why haven’t you called me?’

  ‘You asked me to call you if Pike came out of the hidden exit – he hasn’t.’


  ‘Oh, okay…’

  ‘He did come out of the front door last night at six twenty-three carrying an overnight bag, climbed into a taxi, and was taken to Heathrow where he caught a plane to Israel.’

  ‘Are you…’

  ‘I have a man living in "Airport Arrivals" until Mr Pike returns. Now, if he decides to vary his return journey – instead of catching a flight from Israel to Heathrow – such as going via America and landing at Gatwick, then I’m afraid there’ll be nothing we can do about that, but when he does return we’ll continue our surveillance.’

  ‘Sounds as if you have everything covered, thanks, Athena. Is your man sure Pike boarded the plane?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Okay, I suppose I’ll wait until Pike gets back then.’

  ‘That would be a good strategy,’ Athena said before disconnecting the call.

  She obviously didn’t welcome him checking up on her. As he logged onto his computer, he imagined that working for Athena Izzard would be like working for Medusa, and was glad he had declined her offer. He couldn’t imagine being told what to do by a seventeen-year-old girl, even if she was a goddess.

  He put the DVD containing the second interview with Pike in the CD-ROM and after watching it was even more convinced Pike was one of the killers. Next, he watched Olga Balanchuk’s interview. He zoomed in on her face, and was surprised Molly hadn’t seen the woman’s dilated pupils. He realised there was no point in going to see Olga Balanchuk, because she had clearly been drugged and wouldn’t remember anything.

  He checked his emails. Pike’s telephone and credit card records for the past three months were attached to an email from RHINO as five PDF files. He opened the files one after the other and sent them to the printer. As much as he wanted to save the rain forests, he hated reading from a computer screen.

  The time was five past ten, and he was conscious of his impending appointment at the doctors. After his incarceration in the asylum he had no confidence in doctors, but if he was going to be effective during the day he needed to be able to sleep at night without the recurrent nightmare terrorising him. There was also the added benefit of keeping Kiri happy. It wasn’t fair that his nightmares should keep her awake at night, especially as she had a café to run. And, although he didn’t trust doctors, Kiri was right he needed something to blot out the nightmares.