by John Nicholl
‘Where do you think?’
She looked down and juddered as the anaesthetic effects of the drug began wearing off. ‘Are we at your friend’s place in the West Country?’
‘Smoke and mirrors, Emily. We’re on the Ceredigion coast, about six miles from Aberystwyth. The cottage belongs to an elderly client of mine who has dementia. There’s no friends to speak of and no surviving relatives. The place has been empty for years. It seemed impolite not to make use of it.’
‘Have you ever brought anyone else here?’
Turner shook his head. ‘You’re the first. I kept it in reserve for these precise circumstances. Aren’t you the lucky one?’
‘Why, Charles? Why are you doing this to me?’
He shrugged. ‘Because I want to; because I can. It’s the only justification I need. Right and wrong mean nothing to me. They never have. I find life’s a lot more enjoyable that way. I’ve learnt to fully embrace my dark side.’
‘We’re good together, aren’t we? We could have a future, if you let me live. I have feelings for you, strong feelings. Take the cuffs off, and I’ll show you how much I love you.’
Turner reached out and ran the fingers of his uninjured hand through her hair. ‘It looks much better that way.’
‘What does?’
‘Your hair. It’s blonde. I dyed it copper- blonde.’
‘Why would you do that?’
He studied her closely, looking her up and down as she raised her knees to her chest and pressed herself to the wall. ‘You look a lot like my mother did at a similar age. Have I ever told you that? I’ve got a photograph in my wallet. It’s black and white, faded, and somewhat frayed at the edges, but you can still see her features well enough. And her dress and shoes. Much like the ones I’ve bought for you.’
‘I’m sure they’re lovely.’
Turner smiled. ‘We’ll wash you and dress you sometime in the next day or two, when the time’s right. That’s something to look forward to.’
Emily sucked in the fetid air, forcing herself to appear unfazed by events. ‘I’d like to see it sometime – the photo – it obviously means a great deal to you.’
He sat at her feet and placed his face inches from hers; she could feel his warm breath on her face. ‘Have you thought about why my mother left me? Perhaps it’s a female thing. Are you all unreliable?’
Emily hesitated, choosing her words with care. ‘I’ve been thinking about little else since you first asked me. I can see you need closure. I’m hoping I can help you find it.’
Turner placed one hand around her slender neck and began massaging her windpipe between his thumb and fingers. ‘You will, one way or another. Do or die. Survive or perish. It’s in your interests to impress. But then, you’ve already realised that, with your oh so polite conversational skills, and feigned interest in my emotional wellbeing. You’re an intelligent young woman. Infinitely more capable than any of my previous guests. But don’t think you can play me, Emily. That wouldn’t be a good idea. Underestimate me at your peril. This is your one and only warning. I expect total honesty from here on in.’
Emily choked on her words as her tears began to flow freely. 'I just w -want to h -help, that’s all.’
Turner lunged forward and bit her earlobe, making her jerk back and wince as dark blood ran down her neck and settled on her shoulder. ‘So, come on. What have you come up with? I’m all ears. All ears! Get it? Just my little joke.’
‘I think, for whatever reason, your mother thought you’d be better off without her. She made the ultimate sacrifice and did it with your welfare at the forefront of her mind. I’m certain of it. However ill- judged, she thought she was doing the right thing.’
Turner clapped his hands together. ‘Yes, that’s a reasonable supposition, but why would any child be better off without its mother? Can you answer that for me?’
Emily could feel her heart pounding in her throat. She could hear it like the beat of a drum. ‘Maybe she was seriously ill, or protecting you from a violent man you’re unaware of. A man like Spencer, a man she couldn’t escape, however hard she tried.’
He touched her ear, raised his bloody finger to his mouth, and licked it clean. ‘How’s your hand? I meant to ask earlier, but it slipped my mind.’
‘It hurts like hell. I’d be grateful for analgesics of some kind… What happened to it?’
Turner laughed, head back, faultless teeth in full view. ‘Can you imagine your father’s shock when he opened the letter and found your fingernail with its torn fragments of flesh? I’d like to have been a fly on the wall for that one. Maybe he had another heart attack.’
Emily winced, picturing Grav’s face, and feeling his distress. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s a game I’m playing, cat and mouse. Now do you see? I’m planning on sending a second letter, and a third a day or two after that. I could send another nail, a blood soaked cloth, or even a finger or two. What do you think? Do you find the concept as amusing as I do?’
Emily dropped her head. ‘Please, not that. Not my fingers. Anything but my fingers.’
Turner crossed the floor, switched off the light, and began ascending the stairs to the kitchen. ‘Be very careful what you wish for, Emily. There are worse things I could cut off than fingers. And don’t be getting your hopes up. I’ll post appropriately addressed parcels to a like- minded friend in London, and he’ll post them on from there. Genius. That should make the police even more confused than they already are.’
48
Sandra smiled warmly and welcomed Kesey with a cheery, ‘Good morning,’ as she strode into Police Headquarters, glad to escape the cold.
‘And a good morning to you too. What are you so happy about? You haven’t won the lottery, have you?’
‘It’s my birthday.’
Kesey sang the first line of “Happy Birthday” and grinned. ‘Twenty- one again?’
Sandra waved a brown padded envelope above her head as the DI turned and walked away. ‘This one’s for you, ma’am, I would have stuck it in the internal mail with the rest, but it’s marked urgent and strictly confidential. For your eyes only.’
The detective took it and recognised the handwriting immediately. The flowing script was unmistakable. She held the envelope to her eyes and studied the postmark, before holding it up for Sandra to examine. ‘Can you read what that says?’
Sandra perched her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose and focused. ‘That looks a bit like an N, but as for the rest of it, it’s hard to say. It’s smudged all over the place.’
Kesey sighed. ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. Maybe I’ll try a magnifying glass.’
‘Are you going to tell me how Grav’s doing? I’ve been worried sick. The place just isn’t the same without him.’
‘Yeah, sorry, he’s on the mend… I’m in a bit of a rush, Sandra. Is the DCS in?’
‘She’s got a meeting at Probation HQ at ten, but she hasn’t left yet. You’ll catch her if you’re quick.’
‘Thanks, Sandra. We’ll have a proper catch up when I’ve got more time. I may even buy you a cake.’
Kesey brushed non- existent fluff from her shoulders as she knocked on the detective chief superintendent’s office door and waited for what seemed like an age before being invited in.
‘Take a seat, Laura, I haven’t got a lot of time. What’s this about?’
‘We’ve received a second package from Turner, ma’am. It arrived in the post this morning.’
Davies’ expression hardened. ‘Where was it posted?’
‘I can’t read the postmark. My best guess is London, but I wouldn’t put any money on it. I’m far from certain.’
‘If it is London, we’re looking in the wrong places.’
‘We’ve put out an all forces alert. Maybe we’ll get a lucky break. Devon and Cornwall haven’t come up with anything.’
The DCS began pacing the floor. ‘What was in the package?’
‘Another letter marked for Grav’s attentio
n and a dishcloth soaked in what looks like congealed blood. It’s almost certainly Emily’s.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake. Have you sent it for testing?’
‘It’s on its way. We’ll have the results in a couple of days.’
‘You’ve read the letter presumably?’
Kesey nodded. ‘It’s much the same as the first one – full of threats and taunts. Most of its directed towards DI Gravel, but with an additional message for me.’
‘For you?’
‘Yeah, he’s driving home what he sees as his superiority.’
‘What did he say exactly?’
‘Basically, that Emily’s abduction and torture are my failures … And he’s right, when you think about it. I knew she was in danger. I said as much. I let her down; we both let her down.’
The DCS turned to face Kesey. ‘Now you listen to me, and you listen well. You can’t let yourself think like that. It’s what the bastard wants; he’s trying to get inside your head. Don’t let him get to you.’
‘We should have given her protection when we had the chance. All this could have been avoided.’
‘Hindsight’s an exact science; things are always clearer after the event.’
‘It was clear enough to me.’
Davies glared at her junior colleague. ‘That’s enough, Laura. Let’s just focus on catching Turner, shall we? There’ll be plenty of time for recriminations when this is all over with. If Emily’s killed, we’ll both have questions to answer. I can promise you that much.’
‘Sorry, ma’am, I shouldn’t have said anything. I was just sounding off; if we’re fighting amongst ourselves, Turner’s winning.’
Davies returned to her seat. ‘Is there anything in the letter that gives us any clue as to their location? Anything at all?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘I’ve been through it, time and time again.’
‘What about this van mentioned by the neighbour? Have there been any sightings?’
‘I’ve been in regular contact with the forces between here and Cornwall. There’s no shortage of white vans on the roads, but no sign of Turner. Worst case scenario, the witness had it wrong in the first place.’
‘Tell me, Laura, have you considered the possibility that Emily’s ex was run down and killed by Turner? If he does have access to a van, if the witness was correct, why not use it as a weapon? Getting the boyfriend out of the way would make perfect sense when you think about it. We know the plates were false, but we’ve got the details. Let’s see if a van with a matching index number has been seen anywhere on the M4 or the M5 during the relevant period. If I’m right, it could point us in his direction.’
‘It’s been done, ma’am. I’ve circulated the number.’
‘You have?’
‘Yeah, because of what Turner’s neighbour said – and the witness thought the driver who hit Richard was male. Turner driving seems a distinct possibility.’
‘Right, it’s time for me to go. Is there anything else before we bring this meeting to a close?’
‘Just one thing, ma’am.’
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘It’s DI Gravel, ma’am; he hasn't been notified of his daughter’s abduction.’
Davies raised a hand to her face, ‘Ah, yes, the same thing occurred to me. If we don’t tell him, someone else is going to do it for us: a doctor, a nurse, another patient. Bad news is the last thing he needs, given his health issues, but I don’t see we’ve got any viable alternative. We can’t isolate him from the world. He’s going to find out one way or another. It’s just a matter of when and how.’
‘Exactly. There’s only one thing to do.’
‘I could call on him sometime today, but our relationship’s been somewhat fraught over the years. You’ve got a good rapport with him, perhaps you could tell him; in his best interests, you understand. What do you think?’
Kesey sighed, resigned to the inevitable. ‘Okay, I’ll visit him this evening. It’s got to be done.’
The DCS picked up her leather briefcase. ‘Thank you, Laura, it’s appreciated. Why not do it now? I’m on my way out. We can walk as far as the car park together.’
49
Grav was fast asleep, propped up on three pillows, and snoring at full volume when Kesey entered the busy cardiology ward about half an hour later. She’d rehearsed telling him, time and time again, en route to West Wales Hospital, but it hadn’t helped. She was dreading the conversation; the hardest of her life.
The big man snorted loudly and opened one eye as she sat to the right of his bed, but within seconds, he was asleep again. She considered nudging him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Kesey sat there for a full ten minutes, staring at the ceiling, twirling her wristwatch, trying to decide what to say. She knew she was simply delaying the inevitable, so as the wall clock opposite her struck ten, she moved quickly, without giving herself time to change her mind. ‘Wake up, boss, it’s Laura. We need to talk.’
Grav opened one eye, then the other, stretched expansively, and yawned loudly, casting off the remnants of sleep. ‘Oh, hello, love. Is it visiting time already? I must have been asleep for hours.’
Kesey shook her head. ‘No, it’s still morning. The ward sister gave me permission to see you.’
He lifted himself up stiffly and rearranged his pillows before slumping back on the bed with a sigh. ‘Do you need to talk about the case? I’m here to help if I can, you know that.’
Kesey looked away, avoiding his gaze. ‘I’m not here for advice.’
Grav’s expression hardened. ‘What’s this about? What the fuck’s happened? There’s obviously something.’
‘I’ve got some bad news, boss. There’s no easy way to tell you ’
He pulled himself upright again, grimacing.
‘It’s Emily, boss. Turner’s got her.’
Grav gripped the sheet tightly with both hands. ‘Got her? What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Are you all right, boss? Do you want me to call a nurse?’
‘Just answer the fucking question.’
‘Turner was arrested and released on police bail. There wasn’t enough to charge him.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What the fuck’s that got to do with Emily?’
‘Turner’s left the area. He’s taken Emily with him.’
Grav sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! When did this happen?’
‘It’s been three days since either of them were seen.’
He tried to stand, but fell back on the bed when his legs couldn’t support his weight. ‘Three fucking days? And you didn’t think of telling me before now?’
Kesey placed a hand on his broad shoulder, but withdrew it when he pulled away. ‘I’m sorry, boss, but you’re in here. You’ve had two heart attacks. It’s up to me now; there’s nothing you can do.’
‘Like fuck, there isn’t; I’m discharging myself.’
‘I’m calling a nurse.’
‘Call who the fuck you want. I’m out of here.’
She pressed the red button and tried to hold him as he struggled to free himself. ‘You’re not up to it, boss. What good will you be to Emily if you collapse and die?’
‘Out of my fucking way.’
‘We can talk about the case. You can give me pointers, directions, I’ll tell you everything. You can manage the investigation from your hospital bed, if that keeps you here.’
He relaxed slightly as a young staff nurse approached them with a concerned look on her face. ‘Is everything all right, Mr Gravel? You rang your buzzer.’
‘A glass of water would be appreciated.’
‘There’s a full jug next to your bed.’
‘Oh, sorry to bother you, love. I just need some time to talk to my sergeant.’
The nurse smiled thinly. ‘Not too long now, you need your rest.’
Grav lifted a hand to his head and saluted theatrically. ‘Anythi
ng you say, ma’am.’
The nurse laughed and walked away.
‘Right, Laura, you’d better mean what you said; I want every detail. You leave nothing out, however distressing. I need your word on that.’
‘You’ve got it.’
‘Start at the beginning, and we’ll progress from there. Let’s get the bastard caught before he hurts her.’
Kesey had already decided that some details weren’t for sharing.
50
Emily closed her eyes against the glare of the bulb as Charles Turner flicked the switch for the first time that day. ‘Good afternoon. I’m sorry to have left you in the dark again. I don’t like to make excessive use of the electricity.’
‘I’m hungry.’
‘It’s day four, Emily. You’re doing rather well. Not many of my guests last nearly as long. You’re to be congratulated.’
‘I’d like something to eat, please. I’m wasting away.’
Turner looked down at her and shook his head. ‘Have you thought any more about my mother? You made some interesting observations when we last spoke. I’d like to hear more.’
‘I’ve had plenty of time to consider things, but I need something to eat. I need to drink. I can’t think clearly without nourishment.’
He hurried back up the cellar steps without comment and returned a minute later with a loaf of sliced bread in one hand and a glass of tap water in the other.
‘Take the handcuffs off. Please, Charles, take them off.’
Turner placed the items on the floor, dragged Emily into a sitting position, and knelt in front of her. ‘Don’t push your luck. That wouldn’t be a good idea.’
‘I can’t eat with my hands behind my back.’
He tore the packaging with his teeth, removed two slices of white bread and forced them into Emily’s mouth, as she choked and attempted to turn her head. ‘Eat the fucking stuff, bitch. You asked for food, so eat it.’
‘Water, I n- need water.’
Turner picked up the glass and hurled the contents in her face. ‘Is that enough for you?’
