by Luca Veste
‘Right, I see,’ DI Locke replied, nodding his head. ‘I’m familiar with the case up until this point. I didn’t realise we were treating that aspect of it with such seriousness though.’
‘Oh, don’t get me wrong sir, neither are we . . .’ Shipley started, almost tripping on his words as they tumbled from his mouth. Louise liked this part of Shipley least of all. She understood the urge to better himself, she just wished he could do it without sounding like so much of a sap.
‘We need to take it seriously,’ Louise interrupted before Shipley had a chance to finish the thought. Before she’d had a chance to think herself. ‘It’s . . . it could be important.’
‘As far as I can see, we have a number of murders that have occurred over a long period of time. One man of interest, who would have been a glint in his father’s eye when these stories about a monster lurking underneath your bed began. Let’s not waste any more time on this Bone Keeper story. Someone is obviously playing a game. This woman who ended up in hospital, what else can we get out of her?’
The DI’s question was directed at Louise, but Shipley spoke before she could. ‘Nothing much, I imagine. Louise and I have spoken to her a few times now. She can’t really remember much about the time when she was being held. We think she may have been drugged at some point. We’re not sure on that one yet. We can try again, but it may be a waste of time.’
‘What’s her name?’
‘Caroline Rickards.’
‘You’ve looked into her background, all the usual stuff?’
‘We haven’t really been able to find out much,’ Shipley said, shaking his head and looking towards Louise for help. She couldn’t.
‘Run her through the system. Properly. I mean forensically – I want a complete picture of who she is. See if she’s been telling us the truth.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And all of this comes back to Rhys Durham. Not some ghost. We have a very real, very live suspect in him. Anything you do from now on is only to do with finding this man. Understand?’
Shipley hesitated, briefly, but it was enough time for DI Locke to shake his head and begin to turn away before continuing. ‘I’ll have my team go over what you’ve found out so far a little more closely. I think we can safely say he’s escalating at this point. Hopefully he’s left something behind here for CSI to find. Some kind of clue would be good.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Shipley repeated. Louise recognised the hard edge to his tone this time, even if DI Locke didn’t seem to. ‘We’ll speak to the neighbours and secure any CCTV we can.’
DI Locke didn’t answer him, walking away without another word. Louise turned to Shipley, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. ‘Nice guy.’
‘He’s just doing his job,’ Shipley replied, agitated and wringing his hands together. ‘We’ll have to get used to that type of thing if we want to stick around.’
Louise could feel herself becoming less calm by the second. The voice inside her had grown infuriatingly soothing, to the point where she was simply ignoring it entirely.
This was on her, she thought. This dead woman, all the others . . . it was her fault.
Which meant she had to do something about it, rather than standing around while these men measured their manhoods against each other’s and battled for superiority.
‘You okay nabbing a uniform and speaking to the neighbours?’ Louise said, making a final decision. ‘I’m going back to the station and getting a head start on tracking down this Rhys Durham. Keep in the good books with them lot.’
Shipley studied her for a few seconds before nodding his head. ‘Okay, cool, good idea. We don’t want to get left behind here. You go and do that, if you’re all right with it?’
‘Yeah, of course,’ Louise replied with a smile, as if Shipley had thought of the idea himself. ‘I’ll check in with you later.’
She walked away, removing her car keys from her pocket, keying the automatic locking and not looking back. She slid herself into the driver’s seat, then rested her head against the steering wheel for a second and composed herself. She closed her eyes as the voice insisted again:
Say something.
She wanted to sleep, put everything to one side and never think of any of it again. She was desperate for boredom again, a time when she didn’t have to think about anything.
He’s back.
Louise jumped as a loud knock on the window almost deafened her.
‘Change of plans,’ Shipley said, shouting through the glass. ‘We’ve got another scene.’
Thirty minutes later, Louise pulled up near a semi-detached house, the street a similar scene to the one she’d just left behind. Shipley had beat her there by a good ten minutes, travelling with DI Locke, rather than her. Taking the opportunity to spend some quality time with the new boss, she guessed.
CSI vans were parked up. They were earning their wages today, she thought to herself. The crowd of onlookers was smaller here, a younger, more professional populace than in the part of the city she had been in earlier. Most would have been at work still, or were affecting the middle-class attitude which prevailed even here. Don’t get involved, not our problem.
She still wasn’t sure if she should be thinking the same. She left the car, making her way over to the house and flashing her ID at a uniform standing guard near the entrance. She spotted Shipley waiting for her near the front door and approached him. He looked up, studying her for a second before launching into a ramble.
‘Another one,’ he said, shaking his head at the incredulity of it all. ‘Two, actually. Our guy had a busy night.’
‘What is it?’ Louise replied, already feeling that something wasn’t right. ‘Are you sure it’s him?’
‘Oh, yes, definitely,’ Shipley said, nodding his head. She could see he was trying to keep a lid on his excitement, but he was struggling with it. ‘Scrawled his name on the walls with their blood. It’s him.’
‘A couple, in their home?’
‘Not just in their home, in their bed. Looks like they could barely fight back. The guy was stabbed in the throat, she was stuck in the heart and strangled. It’s a bloodbath inside the room. It’s everywhere.’
Louise shook her head, trying to process the information. ‘And this happened last night?’
‘Yeah, they were last seen around 6 p.m. Both didn’t turn up for work this morning. Turns out one of them is in a car-share. She never misses it apparently, not without letting them know first. Someone got worried and managed to get hold of the girl’s mother. She came round a couple of hours ago and found them both. Poor woman had to be carted off to hospital in shock.’
‘This doesn’t feel right, Paul,’ Louise tried, attempting to make him see what she already knew. ‘Hazel Durham, I can understand. Especially if it was Rhys. There’s a personal connection there. But this . . . Who are these people? Are they connected in some way?’
Shipley sighed heavily, his hands finding his hips, fingers spreading out a little. ‘What does that matter? Are we really going to start assigning any kind of logic to anything this nutcase does? All that matters is that we have two more murders, another scene, and possibly more mistakes made. It’s getting worse, Louise. It’s out in the open now. Which means this is the endgame.’
Louise kept silent, allowing Shipley to think he was still in control, yet the nagging feeling didn’t leave her.
It strengthened further when they were allowed to see a glimpse of the bedroom. The bed, soaked with blood. The wall above it, spattered and dripping. The drawers on the floor, discarded and spilling their contents. Any other time, they would have categorised this as a burglary gone wrong, but Louise knew there was no chance of that happening now.
‘We used to think he watched us as we slept,’ a voice said from the stairwell. Louise tried to ignore it, but found that her attention wanted to be pulled away from the scene she was having to endure.
‘My brother gave me sleepless nights for a week because of it. He hid in the ward
robe at the end of my bed and jumped out on me. I was in bed for half an hour before he did it, the little get. Dived out and shouted he was the Bone Keeper, come to get me.’
‘That story got everywhere.’
‘It was our legend, you know. Everyone had their own story about him. What do you think – is this him coming back?’
‘It’ll be some nutcase who thinks he’s something else. That’s all. Still, some scary stuff going on.’
Louise shook her head at the unseen men behind the voices, wondering if everyone would be able to dismiss it all as easily as they had.
You know he’s dead. It can’t be him.
She stepped back from the doorway, feeling the anger grow inside her anew. Her head snapped towards the uniforms whose voices she’d heard. They were standing on the stairs, leaning against the wall as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
‘You’d think he’d find someone a bit better-looking to go after though. Did you see the kip of her?’
Louise bristled at the words from one of the uniforms, then the laugh, shared with the other. ‘Hey, you two, make yourselves useful and go and stand outside.’
‘We’re taking orders from you now?’ one of them said, giving his mate a smirk. ‘We’re making sure no one comes up the stairs and messes up the crime scene, if that’s okay with you?’
Louise smiled thinly and walked to the top of the stairs. She went down a few steps, until she was just above the one who had spoken to her. He still wore the same smirk, as her hands began to tremble.
‘Look . . .’ he just had time to say before she gripped him by the shoulder and pushed him down a step.
‘Hey, hang on.’
‘Get down there now,’ Louise said, clenching the skin on his shoulder harder as the other uniform hopped down the stairs. ‘I’m not going to ask nicely again.’
She pushed him again, watching as he stumbled and almost fell down the remaining steps. Gripped him by the shoulder, smiling as he shouted in pain.
‘Louise?’
Shipley was standing at the top of the stairs, frowning at her, as she gently let go of the uniform’s shoulder and allowed him to step back away from her, his feet almost slipping down the stairs, a look of shock still on his face.
‘I was just . . .’ She couldn’t finish the sentence. She wondered how she had found herself there. ‘Sorry.’
Shipley didn’t reply, simply standing there as she looked back at the front entrance and the retreating men, then back up towards him.
‘They were messing about . . .’
Louise stopped as she saw the look on Shipley’s face, then the small shake of his head. He turned and disappeared from view as she stood on the staircase and rested her back against the wall. Closed her eyes and tried to breathe properly again.
Thirty-Five
He could smell the blood, staining his clothes and body.
He couldn’t take it back. He couldn’t turn back the clock.
He was the Bone Keeper.
He didn’t want to be.
It had all seemed like the right thing to do a few days earlier. To do something different. Change his life and make it less ordinary. To not be normal any longer. All this time had led to that moment the previous night, but now it felt wrong.
Now, he could only see blood-red, smell death at every turn.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He slammed a fist into the wall he had been walking alongside, enjoying the feel of pain that shot through his wrist and up his arm. A guy walking opposite gave him a quick glance, but didn’t return the stare he gave him back. That guy was safe. He didn’t have to worry like he did. He didn’t have to live with himself.
He was innocent.
He had gone back to the woods, hoping he could find answers there, but it was too late. It was a crime scene now. Bodies being unearthed, evidence found.
The voice . . . that was gone.
It wasn’t supposed to eat away at him like this.
He had made a mistake.
He stopped pacing back and forth, picked the direction that led towards the city centre and started walking again. He passed the warehouses that dotted this part of the city’s waterfront, abandoned and waiting to be knocked down or renovated in yet another rebuilding scheme. The tall buildings in the distance, another reminder of the life he had left behind. The one of normality and ordinary drabness.
There was only one place he had in mind.
He was going to be caught, he knew that now. He couldn’t keep this inside him. He couldn’t live with the faces of that couple in his head. The sounds they’d made, the expressions on their faces. The shock and surprise of finding him there, in their bedroom, just before he’d plunged the knife into their warm bodies.
The sound it had made would haunt him forever.
He wished he was brave enough to climb one of those tall buildings, go to the edge and throw himself down to the pavement.
He knew how much of a coward he was. That he would never have the guts to do that to himself.
Death would be too good for him.
He kept walking, picking up his pace as a single tear rolled down his cheek, as he remembered the night before. The air around him shimmered as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him once again. He couldn’t let that happen, no matter how much he wanted to crumple to the floor there and then. Feel the pavement against his face and shut his eyes.
The world was black, evil, dead.
He had killed the man first, thinking that was the right choice. Now, he knew why he’d decided to do that. What he wanted to do to the woman. Something he should never have thought about. He didn’t want him to have to witness what he was going to do.
The Bone Keeper kept walking.
The reality of being Him now weighed heavy on his shoulders. An invisible load he was carrying without anyone knowing.
He reached the city centre within minutes, passing the Liver Building, the birds on top searching him with unseeing eyes. He could imagine their screeches of derision as they looked down on him, as if he were something unclean, dirty. He turned up the street towards the shopping centre, losing himself within the crowd within seconds.
He hated them all. They would never have to live with the screams of those who knew death was coming. They would never have to see their faces for the rest of their lives.
He passed first the Queen Victoria statue in the court square, giving the building a quick glance as he did so, knowing he would be returning to that place soon enough. Walked down the road, past the large department store at the entrance to the Liverpool One shopping centre, kept walking. He imagined he could feel the disgust coming off people towards him, as if they all knew what he’d done. How wrong he was. How bad. How filthy. How dangerous.
Gaming shops mixed with a restaurant or two, a discount store, an opticians, all going past in a blur, as he made his way to the place.
People were going to and fro in a haze, past the bank on one corner, the McDonald’s opposite. A clothing store and an empty shell. He could smell fresh doughnuts from a green van a few metres away, people spilling out onto the pathway from a pub opposite. This was a main thoroughfare for shoppers into the city centre, away from the traffic, the roads. Simple paths, for simple shoppers.
The Bone Keeper stopped, fell to his knees a few feet away from someone in a terrible, and probably copyright-infringing, Mickey Mouse suit, holding balloons out to the odd child passing them by.
‘You all right, mate?’
‘You fallen over?’
He ignored the voices, allowing himself to rest for a few seconds. Knowing what had to happen next.
He took the knife from inside his jacket, holding it into the air. Some people had stopped in front of him, but he ignored their questions.
‘The Bone Keeper’s coming. The Bone Keeper’s real. He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t feel.’
His voice cracked as he sang, volume increasing with every word until he was a
lmost screeching.
‘He’ll snatch you up. And make you weep. He’ll slice your flesh. Your bones he’ll keep.’
People kept walking, just glancing down and giving him the once-over before they moved on. ‘I’m the Bone Keeper. I’m here. I’ve killed people. I killed a couple in their beds last night. I’m the Bone Keeper.’
Someone out of sight clapped their hands, someone else laughed. Others caught his eye, then quickly looked away. He waited for someone to stop him.
‘I’m here. I’m waiting. I will do it again, unless you stop me.’
‘. . . some nutter has got out of Ashworth.’
‘Should we call someone?’
‘There’s a bizzie over there, he’ll sort it.’
He waited, looking left and right for a sign of anyone coming for him. ‘I’m a killer,’ he tried again, his voice hoarse from the screaming. ‘I’m going to do it again. And again. I liked it. I watched them die. I always do.’
He could see someone in uniform coming his way, speaking into the radio on his chest and staring at him. He held the knife higher.
‘I killed them with this knife. It still has their blood on it. I can still smell it.’
The police officer was walking towards him more quickly now, as the Bone Keeper began to laugh and sing his song once again.
Thirty-Six
‘Want to tell me what that was about?’
Louise was standing against her car, arms folded across her chest as Shipley asked her the question. Wishing she could answer him.
‘We can’t afford this . . .’
‘Just, stop, okay,’ Louise said, cutting him off before he could go on. ‘I know how much you’d really love to be one of the top dogs in Major Crimes, but at the moment, we’re in the same boat.’
‘All right, calm down.’
‘Don’t tell me to calm down,’ Louise said, the feeling inside her rising again. ‘I’m perfectly calm.’
‘Fine, okay.’
She breathed through it, waiting a moment or two before she could chance talking again. ‘Look, I’m sorry. They were just standing around doing nothing. It’s like they weren’t taking it seriously, while two people lay on a bed just feet away from them, dead. They needed to be told.’
