Where the Birds Hide at Night

by Gareth Wiles

  Maybe the point of keeping him waiting was to let him stew; mull over in his mind what he’d apparently done. Equally possible was the fact that everyone was really busy, tied up with all these latest problems. Problems needed to be solved, and Noose was the man to do it. Was he even a man at all? That blasted Helen had punched him around and fingered him up the arse. Well, he wasn’t too concerned about that… just a little. A niggle kept twirling around, egged on by the face’s wry grin, and centred on Noose’s perception that having had a finger up his arse would make him the butt of jokes at the station. The information would soon seep out into the lower echelons of the station like everything else. It didn’t take a lot to get the lower officers chuckling behind your back, murder or not. His affair with Nicola had left vast unerring scars on his reputation and identified an emotional weakness in his character. Such flaws took many successfully solved cases to patch up, and even then they were only patched. Another event, however small, could so easily tear it off again and reveal the old sordid silliness. Noose had had plenty of those. And, then there were the unsolved cases to his name. Peculiarly, perhaps saying more about the police as a whole than Noose himself, these weren’t as much of a scar as the affairs and the other personal problems. Police were only people as well, and people are very faulty. No, he was treated with mild pity and comforted over the unsolved murders as other inspectors either took the cases on or they were confined to the vaults of failure. Should he bonk his boss or take an unexplainable liking to the young Peter Smith, however, and he would find his credibility in tatters. Odd, eh? Really, really odd. It didn’t do to either have sex or befriend people. That was a lesson Noose kept learning over and over again. With so many of the best lessons in life, sadly, he would keep on forgetting it and letting himself get dragged in again. Dragging in was exactly what had happened last night.

  The more he thought about it, the more he felt Helen had somehow put herself rather forward onto him. Was it all an elaborate and cruel set-up? But why would she willingly go along with having her own head removed from the rest of her body? That is quite a commitment to make; though Helen had certainly come across as a very committed kind of person. Committed to helping ruin Noose’s life, by the look of it. The sunlight had come around the corner of the building and now tried its best to look in through the high, narrow frosted window. The face could get a nice tan as the angle was just right to catch it. So much did it sun the face, that whoever it was started to bask in the delight and shared the joy with a string of inaudible words. How frustrating that these words were going unheard by Noose! He doubted they were important anyway, ignoring them for a while. But, as the sun shone and they persisted, he got up off his chair again and dropped to his knees, pressing his ear against the carpet in a desperate bid to pick up any sound. Was it a message of hope from divine intervention? It might as well have been Noose’s own inner conviction, for it was as unbearably impossible to decipher. So close did his ear get to the face, that he felt a little nip on it and jumped up. That the face could have bitten him was of mild concern; that he’d put himself in such a situation where that could have occurred troubled him immensely. He was now completely overwhelmed by existence.

  He collapsed against the wall and he cried there, sobbing to his heart’s content about things in general. He’d become so numb over the years that this felt especially self-indulgent to him, and rather enjoyable. He was crying both at recent events and for himself overall and it was such a great buzz. There, on the floor against the wall, he blossomed into what he’d always hoped he would become; though he couldn’t quite place what that was. He knew it, however, because he now felt good about things and wanted to thank the dead Helen for allowing him to reach this emotional peak of release. But, then he was awash with the ever-constant circle of realisation that it was not Helen but her killer who had opened him up to this sensation. The briefest of flickers in Noose’s mind told him to congratulate the murderer on a job well done – luckily this passed and he was loathe to warrant it credence again. That’s when the sobbing thankfully ended, and he winked at the face in dominance. It did not wink back – it could not. The everlasting period between Noose being told to wait in here and somebody coming to question him now felt ever-tightening and he renewed his efforts to encourage its arrival. Standing up and about to check the door, he changed his mind and sat back down again. He neither wanted to find it locked nor unlocked. Had it been locked, this would amount to him having been found guilty in the eyes of his colleagues already – had it been unlocked, an officer would no doubt have been standing guard outside and he’d reach the same conclusion anyway. He could not win, obviously they thought he had done it. Hard he tried to conjure up an image of Hastings coming through the door to relieve his worry and set him on the case, to no avail. Hastings was neither forthcoming, nor likely to be the one. It was not his place to anymore. That place would be filled by somebody lesser known to Noose, no doubt, so as to avoid any emotional connection during questioning. Questioning – hah! He’d already answered all the questions he could to the officers who’d answered his call earlier today. There was nothing more he could actually give, aside from making something up to satisfy the interrogator. Should he do that? Perhaps it was easier that way, avoiding endless circles and circles of mental crap.

  The door opened and rubbed the face off the carpet. In walked Nicola Williams. There she stood with her wide brown eyes oozing their leathery impenetrability at her old flame, as he looked up and caught sight of her. He hadn’t seen her for a long time – perhaps too long, perhaps not long enough. All he knew was that she was going to delight in all this. She was exactly the same as she’d always been, and he could tell in an instant that she had not changed. Well, he certainly thought that. He wished she had not changed since last they met, and her lack of physical ageing only added to this as a credible belief. Her hair, possibly, had changed style and was now much shorter and bobbed, but Noose really didn’t recognise this much. He wasn’t interested in hair – he was interested in getting right back down to business. Whatever that meant.

  ‘So she was the one who initiated the sex?’ she asked with as much stress on ridicule as she could muster in her cadence.

  ‘Is that too far-fetched a concept?’

  ‘There was something between us, once,’ she said coldly, ‘but now there’s nothing. I’m here in an official capacity to question you.’

  * * *

  After he’d finished at the urinal, he stepped up to the sink and turned the cold tap on. Never did he like washing his hands in hot water. Either it got too hot too quickly and burnt his hands, or it ran cold anyway; so there wasn’t much point even bothering with the hot water tap. Anyway, he knew that the hot tap at this particular sink – the one on the left – hadn’t worked in eight years. He didn’t really like washing his hands at all – but he did wash them. Well, the tips of his fingers. He didn’t really like looking at himself in the mirror either, especially now. But, on this occasion, he gave himself a nod of acknowledgement before preparing to move over to the hand drier. It was now, at this exact moment in his life, that he saw his face for the first time. Yes, he’d sort of had a look at himself before now, but never really seen himself. There he was in the mirror, never exact but existing, and for all the world he was at once satisfied. He could give a crap what he looked like, and he looked alright. A foray into personal physical acceptance was just what was needed at a time like this – anything to occupy his mind.

  The officer stood watching him was there “for his own protection”, not to stop him “doing a runner”. Noose wasn’t necessarily under suspicion now, just under a glorified house arrest at the station. He smiled at Officer Jacobs – one of those men who looked rather feminine, but who got all the girls – and smiled. Jacobs, relatively new here, smiled back. Noose led the way out and was met by Nicola Williams in the corridor. Standing next to her was a young woman who looked like a woman, dressed in a suit. It suited her.

&nbs
p; ‘This is Sergeant Helen Douglas,’ Williams announced, introducing the well-tanned, black-haired female by pointing at her face. ‘Been away on holiday, plane was delayed.’

  ‘But, but…’ Noose stuttered, staring at his new sergeant.

  ‘Yes, that woman who stuck her finger up your bum then got beheaded wasn’t who she said she was,’ Williams continued drolly, her eyes never leaving Noose’s face as she basked in his torment. Jacobs and Douglas tittered. ‘She impersonated Sergeant Douglas.’

  ‘Then who was she?’ Noose demanded.

  ‘We don’t know. No idea.’

  Williams smiled as Noose pulled her to one side. ‘Now look here-’ he started.

  ‘Take your hands off me, Inspector Noose,’ she growled playfully, ‘or I shall slap a restraining order down on you.’

  ‘You can drop all this bullshit right now,’ he carried on threateningly as Jacobs stepped between the pair.

  ‘Language, Henry,’ she cooed.

  ‘Look, you were the one who told me to keep this professional, and here you are doing-’

  ‘Doing what, Henry? What am I doing?’

  ‘Do you still have feelings for me?’ he outright asked her.

  ‘Feelings?’ she laughed. ‘I never did have feelings for you, you just served a purpose back then.’

  ‘Back when, the first time or the second time?’ Noose’s mind was full of all their trysts so many years ago, especially their last time – on her office desk in this very station. She had been a superintendent back then, rising quickly through the ranks because of her brilliant brain. Here she was, a decade later, slopping along as a mere detective inspector again.

  ‘There never was a second time, Henry,’ she spat, turning away from him and lowering her voice. ‘You pushed yourself onto me, I had to keep you quiet because of what was going on with Norman.’

  ‘Ah yes, so that is what this is all about, is it? Getting revenge on me because I cost you your high-powered superintendent position?’ Noose laughed in anger, shaking his head. ‘Norman Trout, hah. It was your own fault, you were the one helping him with those fake documents or whatever. You should have been sacked altogether.’

  ‘I paid the price, Henry, as did Norman. I’m just trying to make a difference now.’

  ‘Well you’re making that, alright. You’re ruining my life.’ He pushed Jacobs aside, marching off down the corridor. Jacobs dashed after him but bumped face-first into him when he stopped dead and spun back around after Williams burst out laughing. ‘It was you, wasn’t it? You murdered that little whore in my house last night!’ he yelled, pointing at her from down the corridor. The real Sergeant Helen Douglas, rather wishing she’d stayed on holiday a little longer, looked uneasily at the notice board and pretended not to be paying attention.

  ‘Run along, Inspector, you’re making a fool of yourself.’

  In came Lauren behind Noose and, upon seeing him, stepped back uneasily. He turned to face her. ‘Lauren,’ he said to her, smiling. She did not smile back. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘A word, please, Inspector Williams,’ she called out down the corridor.

  ‘What’s happened, what is it?’ Noose carried on. He’d known Lauren long enough to sense she was not at ease – not that she had been at ease for a long time.

  ‘I think I should speak to Inspector Williams first,’ was Lauren’s brief explanation to the eager Noose.

  Williams came up to the pair, followed closely by Jacobs. ‘Go on, Lauren.’

  ‘It’s the DNA results for the Henderson murders.’ She looked away from Noose, but would not turn from him.

  ‘Yes, yes, what about them? Do we have a lead?’ Williams encouraged.

  ‘Of sorts.’ She cleared her throat, unsettled. ‘The sperm found in both mother and daughter matches the sperm I took from the body of the female found in Inspector Noose’s house.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘What?’ Noose laughed, sure he’d heard her wrong. Jacobs came and stood right behind Noose, ready for anything. ‘No, no,’ Noose carried on, shaking his head, ‘this is getting ridiculous now.’

  Lauren now looked at Noose and asked him: ‘Did you do it?’

  ‘Do what?’ he shouted. ‘What the hell am I supposed to have done?’

  ‘How did your sperm end up in the bodies of Dani and Beth Henderson?’ Williams questioned him.

  ‘God knows. I can’t believe it, it’s a lie. You’re lying Lauren, you must be lying. You’ve got it wrong,’ he cried out.

  * * *

  ‘That’s how I ended up in here,’ Noose finished, staring blankly up at the cell ceiling off the top bunk. Underneath him on the bottom bunk lay his cell mate Alex, the nervous young one-time husband of Katie Edwards, who’d also found himself, much to his own confusion, in prison.

  ‘Must be tough ending up in here when you were a cop yourself,’ Alex mused, sighing that there were others also going through what he was. Noose just listened, noticing the face from the carpet was now on the cell ceiling. It stared down at him, that wry grin having a good look. ‘So who did kill Dani and Beth Henderson, if you didn’t?’ Alex asked.

  ‘That face,’ Noose responded.

  ‘What face?’

  ‘The face on the ceiling.’

  ‘Did the face on the ceiling also kill Lucy Davies?’

  ‘Probably.’ Noose closed his eyes. There the face was, inside his eyelids and all the time looking at him.

  * * *

  When I’m transferring to you

  Reborn with Life renewed -

  Only Residual.

  As I die I know not why

  Death denied corporeally -

  Only Residual.

  HOW ALEX GOT THERE

  Alex had just about enough time to absorb the image before it faded. This one would fade, yes, but there would doubtless be countless others. They never got the same one back, it was always a new one each time. That was the beauty of a limitless supply of nubile young women – there would always be another to take her place when this one was gone. That it was they who were having the direct sexual contact with his wife was a bit annoying for Alex, but the fact that he got to sit in and watch was adequate for now. Sitting in at a distance, of course. He would always sit in the green chair in the corner, pulling at his half-flaccid penis as the latest woman licked his wife’s vagina, or indeed rubbed her own vagina against it. Katie would be raging with orgasm after orgasm as this went on – providing Alex was in darkness in the corner. She knew he was there, but could forget about him as she went full throttle on the bed in the other corner of the room… so long as she couldn’t see him. The little bedside light was always shining on the two women involved, letting Alex have a look from the green chair. The couple had tried to have sex ever since their wedding night, but to no avail. Every time they tried it just hurt Katie too much. Her vagina closed up at the merest thought of Alex entering her, and it was simply no good. This was the best sex life they could hope for together – she with some random female stranger, and he wanking in the dark. Not the best of things, but adequate enough. There was a woman who loved Alex once, and he knew it. But, he threw it all away to marry somebody who wouldn’t even shag him. Why? He couldn’t answer that, he simply couldn’t. The other woman was Katie’s best friend Emma, maybe that had something to do with it? Alex was the kind of guy who liked to eat all the chocolates in his advent calendar in one go, and that was that.

  One day Alex was sitting in the green chair with his penis out when Reaping Icon appeared in the room. Reaping Icon stood for a moment over the bed, having a look at the unfolding sexual activity between Katie and the latest woman the couple had enlisted.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Reaping Icon, his face expressionless. Alex’s face, too, was expressionless. It was the same face.

  ‘What do you want?’ Alex called out to the one who looked like a man – who looked like him.

  ‘For you to shut up,’ Katie replied, deep in breath.

  Reaping Icon
came up close to Alex and closed his eyes. ‘You can see all that you want to see, if you look,’ he said, before going away. Alex got up off the green chair and left the room as Katie carried on.