The Chemistry of Death

by Simon Beckett

  He took another drink. ‘Because I was. Just not what they thought.’

  ‘Whatever it was, I hope it was important.’ I couldn’t keep the anger from my voice. ‘Jesus, Ben, the police wasted hours with you!’

  His mouth tightened, but he accepted the rebuke. ‘I’ve been seeing a woman. No-one you know. She lives…well, she doesn’t live in the village. I was with her.’

  I guessed the rest. ‘She’s married.’

  ‘At the moment. Though now her husband’s had the police calling at their house to ask if his wife can verify she was in bed with me, I’m not sure she will be for much longer.’

  I didn’t say anything.

  ‘I know, I know. I should have told the police earlier,’ he burst out. ‘Shit, I wish to Christ I had. I could have saved myself hours of fucking grief, and not be sitting here now wishing I’d done things differently. But when you get dragged out of the house and stuck in a police cell, things like that don’t always occur to you at the time, you know?’

  He rubbed his face, looking drawn. ‘All because someone made a fucking mistake about seeing my car.’

  ‘It wasn’t a mistake. It was Carl Brenner.’

  Ben looked at me sharply, a speculative light in his eye. ‘I must be getting old,’ he said after a moment. ‘Shit, I never even thought about him.’

  We were both moving away from the near-confrontation, tacitly accepting the stress talking on both sides. ‘I went out to the house. Brenner wouldn’t admit it, but I’d swear it was him.’

  ‘He’s not the sort to admit anything. But I appreciate your trying.’

  ‘It wasn’t just for you. I wanted the police to be out looking for Jenny, not sidetracked down a dead end.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He considered his glass, then set it down without taking a drink. ‘So what else did your inspector friend tell you?’

  ‘That you used to have a relationship with Sally Palmer. And that you assaulted a woman fifteen years ago.’

  He gave a sour laugh. ‘It all comes back at you, doesn’t it? Yeah, Sally and me got together a while back. No big secret, but we didn’t advertise it. Not in a village like this. But it was nothing serious. Didn’t last long, we stayed friendly afterwards. End of story. The other…well, let’s say it was a youthful mistake.’

  He must have read my expression. ‘Before you get the wrong idea, I didn’t assault anybody. I was eighteen and I’d started seeing a woman a good bit older than me. A married woman.’

  ‘Again.’

  ‘I know, it’s a bad habit. I’m not proud of it. But at the time I thought it was a case of no-one missing a slice off a cut loaf, you know? I was young, I thought I was God’s gift. Then when I wanted to end it, it got a bit ugly. She threatened me, we had a row. Next thing I knew she’d reported me for attempted rape.’

  He gave a shrug. ‘She withdrew the charges, eventually. But mud sticks, doesn’t it? And in case you’re wondering why you didn’t know any of this, I don’t broadcast my private life, and I don’t apologize for it either.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to.’

  ‘OK, then.’ He straightened, threw the rest of his whisky onto the grass. ‘So that’s it. My dark secrets. Now I can think about what I’m going to do to that bastard Brenner.’

  ‘You’re not going to do anything.’

  He gave me a slow, dangerous smile that showed the effects of the whisky. ‘I wouldn’t put money on that.’

  ‘If you go after him it’s only going to muddy the water even more. There’s more at stake here than some vendetta.’

  Colour was mounting in his face. ‘You expect me to just forget about it?’

  ‘For now, yes. Afterwards…’ The thought of what ‘afterwards’ might mean was like a blow to my stomach. ‘When they’ve caught whoever took Jenny, you can do what you like.’

  The heat went out of him. ‘You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. Be something to look forward to, I suppose.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Don’t think this is just the grudge talking, but have you thought about why Brenner might have told the police he’d seen me at Jenny’s?’

  ‘You mean apart from getting you arrested?’

  ‘I mean he might have had more than one reason. Like covering himself.’

  ‘That crossed my mind, yes. But you’re not the only one with an alibi. Mackenzie said he’d already checked him out.’

  Ben studied his empty glass. ‘Did he happen to say what his alibi was?’

  I tried to remember. ‘No.’

  ‘Well, a pound will get you a penny it was his family who vouched for him. They’re all as thick as bloody thieves. That’s one reason we’ve never been able to get him for poaching. That and the fact he’s a canny bastard.’

  My heart had started beating faster as he spoke. Brenner was a hunter, a poacher known to be aggressive and anti-social. Given the killer’s track record for trapping and mutilating animals as well as women, Brenner seemed an obvious match for the profile. Mackenzie was no idiot, but faced with neither evidence nor motive there was no reason for him to suspect Brenner above anyone else.

  Not as long as he had an alibi.

  I realized Ben had said something, but I’d no idea what. My mind was already racing ahead.

  ‘What time is Brenner likely to go out hunting?’ I asked.

  CHAPTER 25

  JENNY HAD LOST ANY sense of time. The fevered shaking that had gripped her after she’d finally been left alone had almost stopped. But what was more worrying was how sleepy she was starting to feel. It wasn’t a normal tiredness. She had no idea how long she had been down here, but it must have been long enough for her to have missed two, perhaps three of her insulin injections. Now her blood sugar was starting to escalate out of control, and shock was making it worse.

  Shock and blood loss.

  In the darkness she had no way of gauging how much blood she’d actually lost. Most of the cuts had eventually crusted themselves shut, except the last one. The worst. The bloodied rag that had been her T-shirt was wrapped around her right foot. The cloth had a sticky feel to it now. A good sign, she hoped. It meant the wound wasn’t bleeding so heavily any more. But it still hurt. God, it hurt.

  It had happened after she’d taken off the filthy wedding dress. As the music box had faltered into silence for a third time, Jenny had stopped too. She had swayed, dizzily, barely able to stay on her feet any longer. She sank to the ground, still wearing the bloodstained dress. She struggled to stay awake, but blackness slowly stole over her vision. She was dimly aware of movement around her, but it seemed increasingly distant. Time passed; then she’d felt herself being prodded roughly.

  When she opened her eyes the first thing she saw was the knife.

  She raised her head to look up at the man holding it. There was no reason not to any more. She knew now she wasn’t going to get out of here alive, whether she could identify him or not.

  Even so, she felt her stomach coil as she stared into his face and saw that knowledge confirmed.

  He prodded her again with his foot.

  ‘Take it off.’

  Using the wall for balance, she rose unsteadily to her feet and fumbled the wedding dress over her head. He snatched it away and stood in front of her. She kept her head bowed, feeling him staring at her nakedness. Her heart thumped painfully. She could smell him, feel his breath on her flesh as he moved closer. Oh, God, what’s he going to do? She couldn’t keep her eyes from the knife he held at his side, willing him to set it down. Just once. Just one chance, that’s all I ask. But he didn’t. Slowly, he raised it, letting her see the blade before moving it towards her. She flinched as it pricked her arm.

  ‘Keep still.’

  She forced herself to stay immobile. The knife moved over her, pricking her flesh with its tip. Each time a pinpoint of blood would appear, a dark red bead that would swell before trickling down her skin. It hurt, but the anticipation was even worse. She could feel his breathing growing faster, smell the excitement radiat
ing off him like heat. He shuffled even closer. Jenny gave an involuntary gasp and jerked back as one of his boots came down on her toes, and with that the floodgate opened to her panic.

  ‘Get off me!’ she yelled, lunging away blindly, forgetting about the rope around her ankle. It pulled her up short, yanking her leg so that she fell heavily. She twisted around as he stood over her. The look in his eyes sent a chill through her. There was nothing human in them, nothing sane.

  ‘I told you to keep still.’ His voice was terrifyingly calm. He reached down and took hold of her untethered foot. ‘You shouldn’t try to run away. I can’t let you do that.’

  ‘No! No, I wasn’t…’

  He wasn’t listening. He was stroking her foot with the knife. His expression was rapt as he touched her big toe with the blade.

  ‘This little piggy went to market.’ His voice was soft, almost sing-song. He went on to the next toe. ‘This little piggy stayed home. This little piggy had roast beef.’

  On to the third, then the fourth.

  ‘This little piggy had none. And this little piggy…’

  Jenny realized what was going to happen an instant before it did. White heat lanced up from her foot as the knife suddenly jerked. She screamed, trying to pull her foot away. He held on to it, watching her thrash and struggle, then let it drop. The severed toe lay like a bloodied pebble on the ground.

  ‘This little piggy didn’t try to run away any more.’

  As he’d stood over her, knife blade dulled with her blood, she’d thought he was going to finish it. She wanted to plead with him, but some stubbornness held her back. Now she was proud of that much, at least. And she knew it would have done no good anyway. He would only have enjoyed it.

  He’d left her then, dragging the planks back into place to shut her in the dark once more. She’d no idea how long ago that was. It could have been hours, minutes, even days. The agony in her foot had settled into a hot, bone-deep throb, and her throat was so dry it felt as though shards of glass were embedded in it. Yet it was becoming more of a struggle than ever for her to remain awake. She’d tried to work again on the rope around her ankle, but the effort was too much. In the darkness she couldn’t tell if her vision was blurring, but she knew she was becoming hyperglycaemic, her blood sugar now dangerously high. And without insulin it was only going to get worse.

  Assuming she lived long enough.

  Jenny wondered why she hadn’t been raped. The lust and hate had been obvious, but for some reason the assault hadn’t come. Even so, she didn’t delude herself. She thought about the face she’d glimpsed in the glare of the match. There was no mercy, no hope for her there. And she was all too aware that she wasn’t the first woman to be brought down here. The cuts, the dress, the dancing—they seemed almost part of some incomprehensible ritual.

  One way or another, she knew she wouldn’t survive it.

  CHAPTER 26

  IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON when I reached the Brenner house. There was a haziness to the day, a faint misting of clouds beginning to encroach across the previously pure blue of the sky. I stopped at the bottom of the track, looking at the ramshackle building. It seemed even more run-down than I remembered. There was no sign of life. I watched for a moment or two longer, until I realized I was putting off what I’d come here for. Shifting the Land Rover into drive, I slowly bumped up the uneven track.

  Once I’d decided what I was going to try to do, the hardest part was being patient. Every instinct in me had cried out to act straight away, to drive out to the house immediately. But I knew that any chance of success depended on Brenner not being home. Ben had suggested waiting till later, when the odds were he would either have gone to the Lamb or be out hunting. ‘He’s a poacher. He’ll be busy either early morning or late at night. That’d be why he was still in bed when you called earlier. He’d probably been out working his snares till after dawn.’

  But I couldn’t stand the thought of waiting that long. Each hour that passed reduced the chances of finding Jenny alive. In the end I hit on a ridiculously obvious solution: I simply called the Brenner house and, without identifying myself, asked if Carl was in. The first time his mother answered. When she told me to wait and went to get him I hung up.

  ‘What will you do if their phone stored your number and he calls back?’ Ben asked.

  ‘It doesn’t really matter. I can say I want to talk to him. I can’t see him agreeing to that anyway.’

  But Brenner hadn’t called back. I left it a while, then called again. This time it was Scott who answered. No, Carl was out, he told me. He’d no idea when he’d be back. I thanked him and broke the connection.

  ‘Wish me luck,’ I said to Ben, standing up to leave.

  He’d wanted to come as well, but I’d refused. As much as I would have welcomed his company, it would have been asking for trouble. He and the Brenners were a volatile combination at the best of times, let alone when Ben had half a bottle of whisky inside him. And what I’d got in mind called for persuasion, not confrontation.

  I’d considered telling Mackenzie what I was going to do, but quickly dismissed the notion. I’d no more to back up my suspicions now than I’d had when I spoke to him earlier. And Mackenzie had already made it clear he didn’t appreciate my interference. He wasn’t going to do anything without evidence.

  Which was why I was going to the Brenner house.

  I felt less confident now, though. My earlier certainty had ebbed as I parked outside. The same dog ran around the corner barking at the sound of the car. But it was bolder this time. Perhaps because I was alone it didn’t retreat as it had before. It was a big mongrel with a torn ear. Bristling, it planted itself between me and the house. I took my first-aid kit out of the car and held it ready in case it attacked. The dog hackled as I walked towards it. I stopped, but it continued to growl.

  ‘Jed!’

  The dog gave me a last warning look as it trotted towards where Mrs Brenner had appeared in the doorway. Her narrow face was hostile.

  ‘What do you want?’

  I had my story prepared. ‘I’d like another look at Scott’s foot.’

  She regarded me with suspicion. Or perhaps my nerves just interpreted it as that. ‘You looked at it earlier.’

  ‘I didn’t have everything I needed with me then. I want to make sure it doesn’t get infected. But if you don’t want me to bother…’

  I made as if to go back to my car. She sighed. ‘No, you’d better come in.’

  Trying not to show how relieved—and nervous—I was I followed her inside. Scott was in the living room, sprawled in front of the television on a grubby settee. His injured leg was stretched out along the cushions.

  ‘The doctor’s come to see you again,’ his mother said as we walked in.

  He pushed himself upright, looking surprised. And guilty, I thought. But again, that could have been my imagination.

  ‘Carl’s not back yet,’ she said.

  ‘That’s OK. I was nearby and I thought I’d take another look at your foot. I’ve brought an antibacterial dressing for it.’ I tried to seem relaxed, but my voice sounded horribly false to my ears.

  ‘Was it you phoned for Carl earlier?’ his mother asked, her hostility surfacing.

  ‘Yes, I got cut off. I was on my mobile.’

  ‘What did you want him for?’

  ‘I wanted to apologize.’ The lie came surprisingly easily. I went and sat on the chair nearest to Scott. ‘But right now I’m more interested in your foot. Do you mind if I examine it again?’

  He looked at his mother, then shrugged. ‘No.’

  I began to unwrap the bandage. His mother stood in the doorway, watching.

  ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a cup of tea?’ I asked without looking up.

  For a moment I thought she was going to refuse. Then, with a huffy sigh, she went into the kitchen. After she’d gone the only sound was the babble of the television and the whisper of the bandage as I unwound it. My mouth was dry.
I risked a glance at Scott. He was watching me with a faintly worried expression.

  ‘Tell me again how it happened,’ I said.

  ‘I stepped in a snare.’

  ‘Whereabouts did you say it was?’

  He looked down at his lap. ‘Can’t remember.’

  I stripped away the bandage and dressing. Underneath, the stitches were as ugly as ever. ‘You were lucky not to lose your foot. If it gets infected you still could.’ He was past the danger stage, but I wanted to rattle him.

  ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he said, sullenly. ‘I didn’t step in it on purpose.’

  ‘Perhaps not. But if there’s nerve damage you’re going to limp for the rest of your life. You should have had it looked at before this.’ I looked up at him. ‘Or didn’t Carl want you to?’

  His eyes flicked away from mine. ‘Why shouldn’t he?’

  ‘It’s common knowledge about his poaching. The last thing he wants is for the police to ask questions because his brother’s stepped in a trap.’

  ‘I told you, it wasn’t one of ours,’ he mumbled.

  ‘OK,’ I said, as though I didn’t care one way or the other. I made a show of examining his wound, flexing his foot back and forth. ‘But you didn’t report it to the police, did you?’

  ‘I told them when they came and asked me about it,’ he said, defensively.

  I didn’t mention I’d been the one who’d told Mackenzie. ‘What did Carl have to say about that?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When the police came to see you. Did he tell you what to say to them?’

  He suddenly pulled his foot away. ‘What the fuck’s it got to do with you?’

  I tried to sound reasonable, even if I didn’t feel it. ‘Carl lied to the police, didn’t he?’

  He was glaring at me. I knew I’d gone too far. But I couldn’t think how else to approach it.

  ‘Get out! Go on, fuck off!’

  I stood up. ‘OK. But ask yourself why you’re covering for someone who’d let you get gangrene rather than take you to a hospital.’