Inferno

by Jay Gill

  “James!” came a voice ahead of me. “James, darling.”

  In front of the two cars, beside a fence separating the well-worn grassy path and the cliff edge, stood a woman. Her shoulder-length brown hair blew in the sea breeze. She pulled up the collar of her three-quarter-length camel coat against the chill breeze. She wore black jeans, low heels and sunglasses. She waved, then turned her back on me to look out to sea. I knew immediately who it was. I slammed the young woman’s car door closed, almost catching her hand, and yanked open my own car door. I looked around for something I could use as protection. The only thing I could find was a ball-point pen. I tucked it in my pocket, told Sandy to sit tight, shut the door and strode over to the woman on the cliff.

  “Kelly Lyle,” I said. “Psychopath, sadist, narcissist, millionaire, and deceased.”

  Lyle chuckled. “You can be so cutting at times, James. You know I prefer to be called a multi-millionaire.”

  “What’s to stop me arresting you right here and now, Lyle?”

  “If you arrest me, I’ll tell the world about our deal. Your glittering career will go up in flames – poof!” She made a flicking motion with one hand. “And every investigation you’ve ever worked on will be brought into question. More importantly, it means we won’t be friends anymore, and I’ve got big things planned for us. It’s all very exciting.”

  “Oh, cut the bullshit,” I snapped. “Kelly Lyle, I’m taking you in. I am arresting you on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you…”

  Lyle put out her wrists. I grabbed her right arm and put it up behind her back.

  “Do you have cuffs back at your car, James?” she said coquettishly. “If you’re going to put cuffs on me, you kinky boy, we’d better have a safe word.” Lyle pretended to think. “What about Alice? Yes, Alice is the perfect safe word. Don’t you think?”

  I stopped. I released her arm.

  Lyle lifted her sunglasses and rested them on the top of her head, letting me see her eyes now. She looked at me sympathetically. “Please call me Kelly. A lady doesn’t like to be called by her surname; it’s unbecoming. I’m not one of your little subordinates back at New Scotland Yard. And anyway, I’d so hoped we could be friends. I’ve decided we simply got off on the wrong foot, and I’m here to make amends.” Lyle pouted. “What’s up, James? You look sad. Don’t be sad.”

  Lyle looked me up and down, then stepped close. Her hand hovered close to my cheek, poised to stroke it. I grabbed her wrist and held it.

  “Please, don’t touch me,” I said.

  Before I could stop her, Lyle grabbed me and kissed me. She gripped me tightly and pressed herself against me.

  I pushed her away. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’ve been wanting to know how it felt. You don’t disappoint. You’re a good kisser, James. A little stiff, maybe, but that’s to be expected. Given time, though, I know we’d make incredible lovers. I’ve given it a lot of thought.” Lyle watched my anger rise. “From the very first day we met, in that little cottage, when we sat under the stars together and you held me – do you remember? I’ve only ever been trying to help you.”

  “Help me? How have you ever helped me?”

  “You really are a tease, James. For a start, without me, you wouldn’t know who killed your wife. Please don’t tell me you’re not immeasurably happier now that you know Richter – or Fischer, to call him by his proper name – is the man behind the murder of your beloved Helena?”

  “You nearly killed my daughter. You kidnapped her, drugged her and put her in a water tank, where you left her to die. Is that what you call helping? Christ, why are we even having this conversation? It’s insane. You’re insane.”

  “Sticks and stones… You know what your problem is, James? You’re so overly dramatic, serious, blinkered, inconsiderate and a little pig-headed. A typical man. You need to lighten up. I was never going to let Alice die. She and I became friends during our time together. She’s like the daughter I never had. She’s just like you, you know. Strong-willed little thing. A chip off the old block.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Is that our foreplay over already, James? You’re going to have to work on that if we’re to be lovers.”

  Lyle put a finger to her face and made out she was thinking. “Tick-tock, tick-tock. What do I want? What do I want?… You know what I want. We made a deal. We’ve been thrust together, bound by a union of body, mind and spirit. This is the culmination. Can you feel it, James? It’s very stimulating. My whole body tingles at the thought of our climax. What a thrill.” Lyle tossed her head back and softly moaned. “Oh, James, James.” She took my hand and placed it on her chest. “Our connection. We’re locked together and it feels so… natural.”

  I pulled my hand away.

  Lyle put on a face of disappointment.

  “I’m leaving,” I said.

  “No, you’re not,” said Lyle.

  “You’re not capable of empathy, so all this about helping me is bullshit. You care about no one. You know that. I know that. You have no sense of compassion. So why all the theatrics?”

  “I don’t know. Fun? Excitement? Exhilaration? Creativity? Challenging myself? Challenging others? Take your pick. But don’t be like that – I do care about you. I treasure our relationship. It’s special. You’re special to me.”

  “So why threaten me and my family?”

  “Leverage. Killing is easy. I want Fischer dead. It’s more fun for me these days if I can encourage someone whose moral code prevents them taking such action to do it for me. That someone is you. We’re scratching each other’s backs, that’s all, James. Fischer’s an itch. Let’s scratch him out together.”

  “And if I don’t follow through, Kelly? What? You’ll kill me?”

  “You already told me I lack empathy. So yes, reluctantly. I’ll kill Alice and little Faith, Monica and unborn baby Hardy, and you. Probably Nana Hardy too. You I’ll kill last because you get to watch the others die. Boo-hoo. But a deal is a deal. I gave you back Alice; you get to save your family in exchange for killing the man who sent that nasty little drug addict Tony Horn to murder the mother of your two beautiful daughters. Don’t forget – Fischer also killed someone I loved dearly. Two birds, one stone. To me that sounds like the deal of a lifetime. Ta-dah! I give you the opportunity to kill him guilt-free.”

  “Guilt-free?” I asked.

  “It’s guilt-free because you have no choice. I’m gifting that to you because we’re friends, soon to be lovers. We are friends, aren’t we, James?”

  “The answer is no. We’re not friends, and I’m not killing him. Even if I wanted to kill him, which I don’t, he’s locked away in a maximum-security prison. Be satisfied with that.” I turned and walked away.

  Lyle called after me. “Don’t worry about little details like prison. I’ll make sure he’s put in your crosshairs.”

  I kept walking and didn’t look back.

  “Bye, James. Nice butt. Love you, James. Don’t test me. I will slaughter your family in a blink of an eye. Oh, and my sexy assistant in the car there took photos of our passionate clifftop embrace. I’m sure Monica would love to see how amazing we look together. Don’t make me send them. You know how insecure pregnant women can be.”

  I looked inside the parked car and the young woman held up a camera with a telephoto lens. She was all smiles.

  “Kill him, James,” Lyle shouted. “Save your family. For both our sakes, I want him dead. You hear me? Dead.”

  Chapter Four

  Father Somerset held out his trembling hand. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. Terry Farley looked him up and down. “Are you okay, Father?”

  “Yes, thank you. A little nervous, I suppose.” He tried to smile.

  “Sorry to hear Father Jones is unwell. Is it anything serious?”

  “No, no, he’s just a little under the weather. Touch of the flu. It came on very suddenly. Occupational h
azard. There’s a lot of it about – flu, I mean. He has a large parish to cover, a large congregation. He will have picked it up on his rounds.”

  “Send him my regards.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you.”

  Farley started to walk and Father Somerset followed. The prison officer took long, purposeful strides, and Father Somerset had to work hard to keep up. “So, you’re here to see Fischer today, Father. You sure you’re ready for that?”

  Father Somerset nodded and said, “Yes. I believe so.” He swallowed hard and his stomach turned.

  Farley looked around and appraised Father Somerset for a moment, then smiled. “I’m just kidding with you. You’ll do fine. Don’t let him get inside your head with his bullshit. Don’t give him any personal details; given the chance, he’ll use them against you. Personal and head. Remember that and you’ll be all right.”

  Farley stopped at a set of doors and looked up at a security camera. The door buzzed open and while Farley held the door, Father Somerset shuffled past. “Wait there, please,” said Farley, waving to a guard at the end of a long corridor. The guard waved back and Farley turned to look at Father Somerset. “Fischer gets very few visitors. Occasionally a lawyer, a reporter; sometimes a police detective. More recently, as you’re likely aware, every two weeks he meets Father Jones. Fischer claims he’s found God.” Farley scoffed at the last part.

  Father Somerset, who had been looking at the ground in contemplation, lifted his head and met Farley’s eyes. “Every man should be offered the opportunity to save his soul. Even a man like Edward Fischer. The Lord will judge him.”

  Farley raised his eyebrows. “Tell that to his victims and their families. They want justice in this lifetime, not the next. Why you’d want to help save the soul of a man like him is beyond me. In my opinion, Fischer and men like him deserve to go straight to hell. No second chance. He’s beyond saving.”

  “No one is beyond saving. We all sin, each one of us. Sometimes, what causes us to sin is beyond our comprehension. Those touched by the Devil’s hand are unable to control the evil that resides within.”

  “Well, I guess you know what you’re talking about. Sounds a little like a pardon for those that do evil, but if you want to try and save him from eternal damnation, good luck to you; I won’t stand in your way.”

  “In God’s eyes, everyone’s worth saving. There are sins both large and small. It’s simply the magnitude of the sin that must be atoned for.”

  Farley smiled unconvincingly. “I’m just playing with you, Father. I couldn’t do this job and sleep at night if I didn’t think there are some men in here that might change. I’ve seen plenty change their ways, and most found God at some point.” He pointed to the end of the corridor where the other guard stood facing Fischer’s cell. “Go down to the end, Father. Officer Nessie’s waiting for you. You’ll be fine.”

  The cells on the wing lined the left side of the corridor. Father Somerset took a deep breath and began the short walk to the last cell. He kept his head down as he walked past the cells, his eyes fixed on the ground. A wolf whistle from the one of the cells caused him to pick up the pace. When he reached Fischer’s cell, a tall, skinny prison officer, a Scot whom everyone called Nessie, introduced himself. The Scot had an extraordinarily long, narrow head with a messy patch of greying hair perched on top, like a stork’s nest atop a telephone pole.

  Nessie pointed to the chair he’d placed just inside the door. He took Father Somerset’s arm and spoke quietly to him. “Don’t take any chances. If for any reason you feel uncomfortable, threatened or harassed, end the meeting. Remember everything you’ve been told. Nothing personal, and never let a prisoner get inside your head. You’ll be fine.” Nessie walked Father Somerset into the cell. He looked to Fischer and said, “Behave, Fischer. You know what happens if you don’t.”

  “I’ll be good. I promise. I don’t want no trouble,” said Fischer, putting on a cockney accent. He had been sitting on his bed reading Hamlet, but as soon as the priest entered, he put down the book and got to his feet, holding out a hand to Father Somerset to shake. But as he did, he buckled over, clawing at his stomach and wincing from pain. “Look at me, Nessie, I’m sick,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m dying in front of your eyes and you fuckers are doing nothing. The governor knows how much pain I’m in and he’s doing nothing. This is inhumane. I need proper tests.”

  “I’m working on it,” said Nessie.

  Fischer managed to straighten up. “Well, hurry.” He turned his attention to Father Somerset and said, “In the absence of professional medical care, I need some spiritual healing, which means, Nessie, I’ll be good.”

  Father Somerset jumped nervously as the prison officer put a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll be down the end of the corridor,” he said. “You just holler if you need anything. I’ll give you men some privacy.”

  Fischer bent over again, holding his stomach and grimacing. He gave Nessie a middle-finger salute as he departed.

  Father Somerset sat down on the chair just inside the door, watching Fischer like a mouse might observe a snake.

  Once Nessie was out of sight, Fischer straightened up and turned his attention to Father Somerset, who was perspiring profusely. The lack of eye contact, trembling hands, pale skin, bad haircut, unfashionable jacket and comfy shoes – it was all just as Fischer had pictured him.

  Father Somerset stole a look up the corridor. Then, leaning forward in his chair, he whispered, “Please tell me my nephew is safe. You must promise me Josh is okay. He’s just a boy.”

  Chapter Five

  Rayner looked adoringly at his wife, Jenny.

  She nodded. “Go on, you tell them.”

  They both had big grins on their faces, like schoolchildren with a big secret. Monica and I looked at each other suspiciously. What’s going on? I thought.

  The four of us were gathered in the kitchen of my new home. The room was filled with the smell of homemade curry, the table was set, and we were getting ready to sit down.

  Having requested early retirement from the New Scotland Yard, I was starting over, building a new life with Monica and my two daughters, Alice and Faith, on the south coast. Even though the past had a way of dragging me back, I was fighting for a different future. A future free of maniacs and serial killers.

  My new life was looking rosy. I stood with my arm around the waist of my gorgeous partner, Monica. Her hand rested lovingly on her belly, caressing our unborn child. I was in love again, in a way I’d never expected to be. Life had been hard for several years after losing my wife Helena in a knife attack. The man who had orchestrated Helena’s murder, Edward Richter, real name Edward Fischer, was now behind bars for the murder of several women. I learned he had arranged for Helena to be murdered to distract me from investigating his crimes. Helena’s loss, and the whole truth about what really happened, still haunts me to this day, but life moves on whether we’re ready for it or not. Right now, I held the remarkable woman who had stood beside me and my children through all the dark times and shown me how to love again. I honestly didn’t know how my life would have turned out without her fortitude and unwavering support. I felt like the luckiest man alive to once again be able to laugh and enjoy life surrounded by love and friendship.

  My old Met partner and lifelong friend, the “Man Mountain,” Detective Inspector Gabriel Rayner, and Jenny were staying with us for a few days. I loved seeing them together. Rayner is the toughest guy I know. Honest, a brilliant detective inspector, and a man I’d trust with my life, which I’d done on more than one occasion.

  Rayner doted on Jenny, and she was perfect for him. When he was with her, he was all smiles and even more jokey than I knew him to be. Around her he was like a big ol’ grizzly bear who gently handles a precious kitten.

  Rayner was taking a long overdue holiday from the Met and one of the toughest cases of his career. He’d been working flat out on an investigation involving a young family who had been murdered
while they slept. It was the third such family to be targeted in a little over two years. The only similarity linking each case was the disturbing fact that the children in each family were twins. After months on a case full of long, gruelling days, Rayner was still no closer to cracking it, and it was getting to him. Chief Webster, his boss and my old boss, had decided he needed to take a break and come back fresh. Time and distance might give him a new perspective.

  Monica wriggled impatiently in my grasp now, giddy with excitement. “Okay, you two,” she said. “Don’t keep us in suspense any longer. What’s going on?”

  Rayner put one thick, muscular arm around Jenny’s shoulders and placed his other hand on her stomach. Jenny placed her hands on top of his.

  “You tell them,” said Jenny.

  “It’ll be better coming from you,” said Rayner.

  “We have some news,” said Jenny. Her eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed. “We’re going to be three. I’m pregnant! We’re going to have a baby!”

  Monica and Jenny squealed and rushed together to hug each other.

  “How long?” said Monica breathlessly.

  “Four months,” said Jenny. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you sooner.”

  I put out my hand to Rayner in congratulations, but he wasn’t having any of it. He grabbed me, wrapped his arms around me, and nearly squeezed the life out of me with one of his bear-like hugs.

  “Okay, okay. Put me down, you big softie,” I managed.

  “Look, guys,” said Rayner. “We’re not trying to steal your thunder here. We realise you’ve only just announced your own fantastic baby news. We’ve been trying for a while, and it’s purely coincidence.”

  “Get out of it!” I said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” said Monica. “This is amazing news. The best news.” Monica gave Rayner a kiss and hug, while I congratulated Jenny.