by Ellis, Tim
He focused on the writing Nash had put on the whiteboard, and pulled out his notebook. How many times had he beaten himself up about Ed and his family? A hundred? A thousand? It had been six months, but he still missed Ed.
Lisa Taverner – landlady of The Snooty Pig in Wormley who’d had her face smashed in beyond recognition in the early hours of Tuesday 20th December. The murder weapon – an iron bar – had been left at the scene of the crime, together with a dead white rose pushed up the victim’s vagina. Motive – that seemed to be the key to the murder. Lisa Taverner had been having sex with a succession of local married men, and as such there was a long line of female suspects. Nash seemed to think it was jealousy – a crime of passion – but he wasn’t so sure. If it hadn’t been for the dead flower he might have agreed with her. The flower added a new dimension to the murder. Also, this murder had been planned. Crimes of passion were just that – in the heat of the moment – not well planned and executed.
Maybe he’d get something from forensics tomorrow. The other bar staff were coming in to be interviewed, and there was the post mortem at ten. He stood up, switched the light off, and headed towards the car park. Tomorrow was always another day.
***
She climbed into Parish’s car. If it hadn’t been for what she’d found out in the toilet she might have had a snowball fight with him, but she didn’t feel like throwing snowballs, or building a snowman with a hat and scarf.
The door opened and Parish climbed into the driver’s seat. ‘It’s going to be a long haul home, I reckon. I hope the snowploughs and gritters have been out.’
It was ten past six when he started the car and pulled out onto the High Street. Traffic was crawling along.
‘I don’t know – a bit of snow and the whole country comes to a standstill.’ He turned his head to look at her. ‘What’s up with your face and the price of chips? And not only that, I expected to be bombarded by snowballs as soon as I came out of the station. I was prepared to do a triple somersault and a back flip to escape, but there was nothing. You must be losing your grip on funeality.’
‘That’s not even a word.’
‘Well it should be. There are times when reality should be fun. We get enough reality, Richards. When it’s time for fun you have to grab it with both hands, and hang on until you can’t laugh anymore because your sides will split open.’
‘I heard something in the toilets.’
‘Yeah, women are worse than men for that type of thing.’
‘Nash came in talking on her mobile. She didn’t know I was in there. I lifted up my legs, so she couldn’t see them under the door.’
‘That’s a strange thing to do.’
‘I know, but I did it so she wouldn’t start talking to me.’
‘So, what did you hear?’
‘She said Inspector Kowalski was a fat old man who thought he was God’s gift to women.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with her telling the truth.’
‘But then she started talking about us.’
He pulled into the curb and stopped.
‘What?’
‘She said that we hadn’t mentioned Frati Neri, and that she didn’t find anything when she went through our desks.’
‘You’re making it up. Good one, I was fooled for a minute there.’
‘I wish I was, but I’m not.’
‘Christ.’
‘And that’s not all.’
‘Oh?’
‘She said she’d bugged the Chief’s office, and that she’d let whoever she was talking to know if the Chief was planning to stab him in the back.’
‘It was a him?’
‘She called him, “Sir”.’
‘You’re not making this up?’
‘What does it all mean?’
‘It means we’re in trouble.’
‘But I thought...’
‘Yes, so did I. Clearly, passing the information to Catherine was not enough to get these people off our backs.’
‘Who are you, Sir?’
‘I wish I knew, Richards. I wish I bloody well knew.’
‘What do we do now?’
He stared out of the window into the falling snow, the darkness, and the traffic. ‘We have to get rid of Nash. I can’t have someone spying on me.’
‘What about the Chief? I’ve thought about it, and what Nash said makes me think that she’s involved with P2 as well.’
‘If they’re spying on her, maybe she’s one of the good guys.’
‘Are there any good guys in P2?’
‘Crap! This is not a good time, Richards. The baby’s going to be born any minute.’
‘We could leave it until after Christmas.’
He indicated, and pulled back into the traffic. ‘I wonder if Kowalski knows.’
‘If he did, he would have said something.’
‘Yes, of course he would.’
He drove in silence as he thought through what he was going to do. ‘This is never going to go away, is it?’
‘It doesn’t look like it.’
‘Then it’s time to stop sitting on the fence. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to the Chief, and we’ll get rid of Nash. She’s definitely one of the bad guys.’
‘Then they’ll know we’re onto them.’
‘I’m sure the Chief can find another reason to dispense with her services.’
‘Don’t forget, Nash said the Chief’s office is bugged.’
‘I haven’t forgotten. You can contact Catherine, and arrange to meet her tomorrow as well. We need to know what she’s doing. It’s time we stopped being victims and went on the offensive.’
‘We don’t even know who we’re fighting.’
‘Well, we’d better find out, hadn’t we? And don’t tell your mother, she’s got enough to worry about with the baby.’
He pulled up outside the house at five to seven. ‘What about that snowman, fatty.’
Richards gave a short laugh. ‘As if. I’m not really in the mood for building snowmen now.’
‘No, I know what you mean. Well, I hope Digby’s up for an expedition into the frozen wastes of Chigwell.’
***
Wednesday, 21st December
She parked the car at the end of the path. The cottage had belonged to his parents. It was where they’d first made love, and now he’d brought his whore here.
It was on West End Road, the last cottage on the left before Wormley Wood – five miles from Wormley on the edge of nowhere. It was a place that nobody even knew existed. From the road it was invisible – a secret place where magic used to happen. This was where they’d come to conceive the babies. It was a place where she first noticed the breath of life inside her. Well, he had taken away the magic, and tonight she would take away his life. Tonight, it would become a place of death.
She’d come prepared, but it wasn’t like the others. Tonight she would kill the two of them, and then bury them deep in the woods. On Friday, this was where she would bring Angie Parish, the woman who would give her back the breath of life, who would give her the baby she so wanted and deserved.
The key eased into the lock. She turned it gently. Inside, she avoided the creaky fifth stair as she crept upstairs. The door to the bedroom was open. The whore was draped over him like a slug.
She brought the iron bar down on his head three times. He didn’t wake up to plead with her. She would have liked to hit him more – a lot more, but the whore was screaming and blubbering...
‘Please... Oh God... No... Jeremy...’
The words that came out of the whore’s mouth made her feel crazy and angry, so she smashed the iron bar across the side of her head. That shut her up – forever. For good measure – and because she liked it so much – she hit them both in the face a few more times. She’d have to clean up the blood, and take a long hot shower, but it was worth it. Neither of them was laughing at her inside her head now.
She went back to the car and took the plastic sheets from the boot, which she
then used to wrap up the bodies and drag them to the car. It was hard work, but she was happy. She hadn’t been this happy for such a long time. But now, everything was working out just right. Soon, she would be a mother, and all the people who had ever hurt her would be dead.
Deep in Wormley Wood she buried her husband and his whore. She’d put them in the grave nearly top-to-tail – nearly, but not quite – because she shuffled them up so that they were a sixty-nine. She put his cock in her mouth and covered his face with her crotch, which made her laugh out loud, and startled the night creatures snuffling for food. If he wanted to cheat on her, he could do it for all eternity.
Afterwards, she returned to the cottage and cleaned up. It was nearly light when she’d finished. She had one last thing to do to prepare for her guest, but first she decided to sleep for a few hours – sleep in the bed in which she’d just killed her husband and his whore.
***
‘Hi, Parish.’
‘That’s not how you greet me, Kowalski. Have you stopped living and breathing?’
‘I just can’t work up the enthusiasm today.’
‘Follow me, we need to have a tête-à-tête.’
‘I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Where?’
‘In the toilets.’
‘Now I know I don’t like the sound of it.’
Kowalski inched into the toilets looking all around. ‘You’ve not set up hidden cameras, have you?’
‘This is serious, Kowalski.’
He leaned against a sink. ‘Okay, what’s it all about?’
‘Nash is a spy for the secret organisation that tried to kill me – P2.’
Kowalski laughed. ‘Yeah, good one.’
‘Richards heard her in the female toilet last night talking to someone on her phone. She said you were a fat old man who thought you were God’s gift to women, which I obviously agree with. She mentioned me and Richards, and apparently she’s bugged the Chief’s office.’
‘Are you sure this isn’t a fucking wind-up, Parish? If it’s a wind-up, I’m going to break your legs.’
‘No wind-up.’
‘I just knew there was something not quite right with her. I went to see the Chief last night and asked her to get rid of Nash.’
‘Did you? Mmmm, I think that’s the cover we need for the Chief to transfer her to another station.’
‘I’ll be glad to be shot of her. She’s a pain in the arse. Definitely not Ed.’
‘The Chief’s expecting me for the morning briefing. Walk along to her office and bring her up here.’
Kowalski’s eyes creased to slits. ‘In here?’
‘Nash can’t overhear us in here. Tell her you’ve got something to show her.’
He smiled. ‘Yeah, I did that once, but that was before I became a fat old man. Now, I can’t even see what it is I want to show her. Fucking hell, Parish,’ he said as he opened the door. ‘The place is going to hell in a handcart.’
Parish had a pee while he was waiting, and then washed his hands. He didn’t want someone to wander in and see him just loitering like a rent boy.
‘What the hell are you doing taking me into the men’s toilets, Kowalski?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘Parish... You two aren’t going to gang rape me, are you?’
Parish grunted. ‘As enticing as that sounds, Chief, I think we’ll give it a miss this morning – maybe tomorrow if you’re still up for it.’
‘What have you got me in here for?’
Kowalski had his back against the door. If someone wanted to use the toilet they’d have go to another floor.
Parish told the Chief what Richards had overheard. ‘You’re a member like Chief Day was, aren’t you?’
The colour drained from Chief Kirby’s face. ‘I never meant it to get as far as it has. Walter and I joined at the same time. A lot of senior police officers were members – it seemed the perfect way to get on.’
‘So what do you know about my parents?’
‘Nothing. They wouldn’t tell me, but they’re willing to kill you to stop you from finding out.’
‘Well, you’re going to help me find out, and together we’re going to bring them down.’
‘You don’t know what they’re like.’
‘Oh, I think I have a fair idea. They have tried to kill me twice after all.’
She looked from Kowalski back to Parish. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s either that, or I go to the Police Commissioner. I know the Chief Constable’s a member of P2 as well, so it’s no good going to him. If you help me, you might be able to save your career. If not...’ He shrugged.
She bit her lip and glanced at Kowalski again.
‘And the first thing you can do is get rid of that bitch Nash,’ Kowalski said.
‘Yes, you can use Kowalski’s dislike of her as an excuse to get her out.’
‘I can do that,’ the Chief said. ‘But let’s not forget who’s running things around here. I’ll help you out, I don’t seem to have much choice, but I’m still the Chief. Is that clear?’
‘Do you want to be Chief, Kowalski?’
‘Not me.’
‘Nor me. All right, you can still be Chief, Chief.’
They agreed to meet in a back room at Dirty Nellie’s at six o’clock. In the meantime, Chief Kirby would transfer Nash to Southend under the guise of her incompatibility with Kowalski, and also the fact that Southend needed a DC due to sickness. The Chief would also give P2 the impression that everything was operating as usual by leaving the bug in place.
There was a knock at the toilet door.
‘Sir?’ Richards shouted. ‘Are you in there?’
Kowalski open the door a crack, grabbed Richards’ arm, and dragged her inside.
‘Oh!’
‘You seem to be spending a lot of time in the toilets, Constable Richards,’ the Chief said.
‘Hello, Ma’am. What are you doing in here?’
‘This is the new bug-free meeting room...’ She pinched her nose. ‘Although, it’s not smell-free. Right, I’ll see you gentlemen tonight at six o’clock.’
Kowalski stuck his head into the corridor to check the coast was clear, and then let the Chief out.
‘Don’t let me catch you in the men’s toilets again, Richards,’ Parish said.
She pulled a face. ‘You know very well Kowalski dragged me in here.’
‘A likely story.’
‘You can let me out now, Inspector Kowalski. You two should be up in a treehouse throwing conkers at old ladies.’
After she’d gone Parish said, ‘I hope this is going to work, Ray.’
‘At least we got rid of Nash.’
‘Yeah, but now you’re running a murder investigation on your own.’
‘There is that.’
***
‘Morning, Chief.’
‘Good morning, Parish. Good morning, Richards.’
‘Good morning, Ma’am.’
‘Coffee?’
‘Definitely a mug for me, but Richards is still a stick-in-the-mud.’
‘I don’t know how anyone can drink something that a monkey has pooped.’
‘Where’s your spirit of adventure?’
‘Gone.’
They were play-acting for the bug. They had to pretend to be doing what they normally did – otherwise someone would get suspicious. And someone being suspicious could get people killed. It was serious, and each of them knew it.
‘What’s going on with the case?’
‘The victim is a woman in her early twenties who recently gave birth to a baby boy. Doc Riley found a DNA match for the father, but he had no idea he’d even got a woman pregnant, so he wasn’t any help. PC Laveque provided us with the names of two missing females who might have been our victim. But after interviewing the people who reported them missing, neither woman was a match. And while we’re on the subject of PC Laveque, is there anything you can do...?’
‘Like moving her out of that
tiny office,’ Richards chipped in.
‘I can’t interfere, you know what Inspector Threadneedle is like.’
‘I’m sure there are health and safety, and human rights issues involved,’ Parish said.
‘I’ve been assured that PC Laveque is fine. Stay focused on your investigation.’
He wondered if the Chief was scared of Maureen Threadneedle like everyone else. ‘Well, there’s not much more to say. We’ve run out of leads for the time being. I think we might get the press involved and ask for the public’s help in identifying the victim.’
‘That might be a useful strategy,’ the Chief said.
‘Also, we’ve got to go up and speak to Toadstone. He might have something useful for us for a change.’
‘Okay, thanks for coming in.’
***
Kowalski walked up to forensics. He was on his own now, but he felt as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Nash wasn’t for him. They’d been like two jigsaw pieces from different puzzles trying to fit together – it was never going to work. And how the hell did she get selected when she was a P2 spy? He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that he’d had free will and still managed to select her from all the other candidates. Unless, of course, they were all bloody spies for P2. God, he’d only half-believed Parish about this secret organisation, but now... And the Chief Constable and Abby Kirby were members. How come no one had ever asked him to join?
‘What brings you up here, Inspector Kowalski?’ Di Heffernan said. ‘You usually send your gofer.’
‘What do you mean, gofer?’
‘You know – go for this, go for that.’
‘You’re trying to insinuate something, aren’t you?’
‘Well, let me ask you this, why are you up here?’
‘Nash doesn’t work for me anymore.’
