by James Raven
He switched off the engine and told himself to get a grip. Now was not the time to start questioning his own performance.
He closed his eyes and blinked the thoughts away, then got out into the cold night air.
He was in what was known as the Culverley car park that bordered the heavily wooded area of Honey Hill. Normally at this time of year it would have been pitch black, but it now resembled a dazzlingly bright town centre. Police vehicles and media trucks were giving off enough light to be seen for miles around.
About thirty yards into the woods, several arc lamps had been set up around a forensic tent which had been put up over the grave.
Temple made his presence known and was told the search team had been on the verge of giving up, when an object had shown up on the ground penetrating radar machine.
‘There are lots of trees and bushes here,’ the crime scene manager told him. ‘We had to use chain saws and mowers to clear parts of the area. Plus, it’s been very wet which makes it more difficult for the radar equipment to detect anomalies under the ground.’
According to Mason’s map, the two people whose remains were in the grave were a married couple from Luton who had vanished ten months ago while on holiday in the south. They’d been staying in London and no one had even known that they’d hired a car in order to visit the New Forest.
This was the last grave marked on Mason’s map and Temple hoped to God that there weren’t any more that they didn’t know about. He felt it necessary to look at the remains, but under the harsh light from the arc lamps they seemed unreal. He stared at them until his eyes glazed over and then walked slowly back to his car.
Honey Hill was on the main B-road between Lyndhurst and Beaulieu. Temple realized that it was the closest of the ten graves to East Boldre, which was only about three miles south.
He decided to drive to the Court Jester pub and have another chat with Mick Russell, the landlord. At the same time he could get something to eat and have a pint.
On the way to the pub, he drove past Amanda Cross’s house and saw that the lights were on inside. He also noticed that her Vauxhall Corsa was on the driveway. He’d last seen the vehicle yesterday when her brother had pulled up in it outside Tom Fowler’s house.
It brought to mind what Marsh had told him about Cross not being on the DVLA database. Did that mean he drove everywhere in his sister’s car?
But as Temple thought about this, he remembered that when Cross was in London, the car had been parked on the driveway. So he couldn’t have used it to get to the station. And there was another oddity. When he’d dropped in on Cross that second time the Corsa was there again. But no other car.
So did it mean something? He wasn’t sure, but it made him curious and he could see why Marsh felt inclined to pursue it.
Temple eyed the digital clock on the dashboard. Nine thirty. On impulse, he decided it wasn’t too late to call in on Noah Cross and his sister. If there was one thing he hated it was a loose end. So there was no time like the present to tie this one up.
He pulled over to the side of the road and executed a U-turn.
57
He decided it was time to put them out of their misery. He’d had his fun and now he was completely exhausted.
Killing Bob and Rosemary Hamilton would be a fitting finale to one of the most intensely pleasurable evenings of his life.
He had subjected them to three glorious hours of torture and sexual molestation. Their screams and their tears had aroused every cell in his body.
He’d used whips, clamps, dildos, surgical blades, leg spreader bars and his own sharp teeth.
Rosemary’s breasts and buttocks were covered in bite marks and there was blood dripping from every orifice, including her mouth.
Her husband was sporting two black eyes and his bruised scrotum was the size of a grapefruit.
He felt a lot better for having indulged himself. He’d needed to release the tension that had been building up inside him since Grant Mason’s death. He wasn’t used to feeling threatened or vulnerable and he didn’t like it. It reminded him too much of when he was a boy and the men came to have their way with him. He’d been forced to bottle up his feelings then because he’d been too scared to vent them.
On the few occasions when he did make a fuss, his father gave him a severe beating. The blows were always to the body, never the face. That was because the punters obsessed over his angelic looks. They liked the fact that he looked like a girl, especially when he wore the dresses. It was what set him apart from the other boys the men abused and made him so valuable to his parents.
But the tables had turned since then. Now he was the one with the power. The one who instilled fear in others.
The pleasure that gave him was incalculable. And it was thanks to an addiction that could never be cured. He was lucky in that respect because it meant he would never have to stop what he enjoyed doing. And he could look forward to bringing many more playthings to his lair.
Bob and Rosemary had been pretty special because he hadn’t had to share them with Grant. For that reason he was really going to miss them. But all good things come to an end.
Getting them up the stairs was going to be the most difficult part. They’d strangled the others down here in the basement and he and Grant had carried them up to the van. But he couldn’t lift the Hamiltons by himself. His plan, therefore, was to tell them that he was going to take them to another part of the forest and let them go. Then one by one, he would lead them up the stairs and outside where he would do the deed and drag their bodies the short distance to the hole in the ground.
After that, he would lie low until things settled down and the forest returned to normal. Then for him, it would be business as usual – while Tom Fowler languished in prison for a series of crimes he didn’t commit.
‘You’ll be pleased to know that I’m going to release you both,’ he said as he approached Bob’s bed. ‘So be sensible and don’t make it difficult for me.’
He wasn’t sure they believed him but he didn’t care. He knew that for them anything was going to be better than staying down here.
He reached out with the key to unlock the shackle around Rosemary’s wrist. But at that moment, the wireless adaptor in the wall picked up the signal from the doorbell, filling the basement with a loud, shrill tune.
His stomach clenched and a flame of unease flared inside him.
He couldn’t believe it.
Who the hell could it be at this time of night?
58
Temple rang the bell and stepped back, wondering if he was wasting his time coming here.
He could just as easily have left it to Marsh to talk to Noah Cross in the morning. After all, the business with the car and his trip to London no longer seemed relevant to the case.
But suddenly the thought he’d been desperate to retrieve from his sub-conscious popped into his head. It was like a light being turned on in a dark room.
Fowler’s keys. Of course.
They went missing the other night in the pub and Fowler claimed he’d left them on the bar. Yet the following day, the landlord found them in the pub car park, which led to the assumption that Fowler had dropped them there.
But supposing he hadn’t? Supposing he did take them into the pub with him and placed them on the bar? Was it possible that someone picked them up, then used them to enter Fowler’s house and plant the laptop and flogger whip, before dropping them in the car park?
Temple cursed himself for not having grasped the significance of the keys before now. He should have paid more attention to their disappearance – and reappearance. Fowler’s lawyers were bound to make a big thing of it when they started preparing a defence.
He made a mental note to find out who was in the pub that evening. It had been fairly busy and among the customers were several SOCOs who’d been searching Mason’s house.
Noah Cross hadn’t been there when Temple arrived, but according to the landlord he’d been drinking w
ith Fowler and had only just left.
Did that mean …
His train of thought was interrupted when the door opened and Amanda Cross appeared. She was wearing a blue towelling dressing gown and her long hair was a riot of curls. She peered at Temple quizzically through her thick-framed glasses.
‘You woke me up,’ she said, sounding drowsy. ‘What’s going on?’
He forced a smile. ‘I’m sorry to bother you so late, Miss Cross, but I was wondering if I might have a word with your brother.’
‘He’s not in. He went out.’
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘He didn’t say. And I don’t know when he’ll be back. Is it something I can help you with?’
‘Possibly. Do you mind if I come in?’
He could tell from the look on her face that she did, so he told her that it was important and couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
With obvious reluctance, she opened the door wider so he could step inside and gestured for him to go into the kitchen.
He sat at the table while she put the kettle on, but she didn’t ask him if he wanted a drink.
‘Hopefully this won’t take long and you can go back to bed,’ he said.
She turned to face him, a strange expression on her face that was difficult to read.
‘So what is it you want to know, Inspector?’
‘First of all, can you tell me what kind of car your brother drives?’
Confusion flickered across her face. ‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘Well, we carried out some routine inquiries after you and your brother told us he went to London on Thursday evening. And we discovered by chance that he doesn’t have a driving licence even though he drove himself to the station. Plus, the DVLA confirmed that there isn’t a vehicle registered in his name.’
Something passed over her eyes, too quick for Temple to read it.
‘I think that’s the kind of question you need to ask him,’ she said.
‘But you must know about the licence.’
She shrugged. ‘I’m sure he has one, Inspector. Someone at the DVLA has probably made a mistake.’
‘What about the car?’
‘He has a dark blue one. An Audi, I think.’
‘And he’s driving that now, is he?’
She nodded and ignored the kettle as it started to boil.
‘I assume the car outside belongs to you then,’ Temple said.
‘That’s right.’
‘Then may I ask why your brother was driving it yesterday when he went to Tom Fowler’s house?’
‘He often takes my car,’ she said. ‘He prefers it to his own.’
‘I see.’ Temple paused, then added, ‘Coming back to Thursday, Noah told us he got the train from Southampton to London. But he doesn’t appear on any of the CCTV footage that was recorded that evening at the central railway station.’
Irritation flashed in her eyes. ‘That’s probably because he would have driven to Southampton Parkway and gone from there.’
Temple hadn’t thought of that. Parkway was the first stop after leaving the central station and a lot of rail commuters preferred it.
‘Look, I really do need to speak to your brother about these and other matters,’ he said. ‘Perhaps if you called him for me now on his mobile, he might be prepared to come straight home.’
She blinked warily, clearly nervous. ‘What else do you want to ask him?’
‘Well, I know he had a drink with Tom Fowler on Saturday night in the Court Jester, but he left before Fowler realized he’d lost his keys. I just wondered if your brother might be able to shed light on what happened to them.’
‘Why would he know that?’
‘It’s a question I’ll be putting to everyone who was in the pub that evening, Miss Cross. Not just your brother.’
‘But why are the keys so important?’
‘Because we believe that someone might have used them to enter Fowler’s house without permission.’
She sucked on her lower lip as she considered a response. At the same time, she dropped her arms to her sides and straightened her spine. The tension oozed out of her body like an aura.
‘So how about calling Noah?’ Temple said. ‘At least if you speak to him I’ll know if it’s worth hanging around.’
‘There’s no point,’ she replied too quickly. ‘He usually switches his phone off when he goes out.’
Temple cocked his head on one side and frowned at her.
‘It sounds to me like you’re trying to cover up for your brother, Miss Cross. Is it perhaps because he hasn’t gone out? That he’s actually in the house?’
Her face hardened and she drew a quick breath before speaking.
‘Of course he’s not in the house. I’d tell you if he was. I’ve got no reason to lie.’
‘Then you won’t mind if I have a look around.’
She gave an unconvincing shrug. ‘If you must, but when you see I’m telling the truth I want an apology.’
Temple stood up. ‘In that case I’ll start downstairs.’
Just then his phone buzzed with an incoming text message. His first instinct was to ignore it, but it occurred to him that it might be from Angel.
‘Do you mind if I check this?’ he said, taking out his phone. ‘It might be urgent.’
She didn’t respond, just stood there staring at him as her ample chest rose and fell with every breath.
Temple opened up his messages and saw that the text was actually from Dave Vaughan, and there was a media file attached.
The message read: You need to see this, boss. It was in the file from Miss Bellamy’s lawyer. It’s the passport photo she gave them as proof of identity when selling the house. Only it’s a different woman to the one in the photo that her daughter showed us. Any thoughts?
Confused, Temple opened up the attachment and when he saw the photo, a shudder crawled up his spine.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
Amanda Cross must have sensed from his reaction that something was very wrong – because she was on him before he had even lifted his eyes to look at her.
59
She rammed into him shoulder first, throwing him back against the wall. He lost his balance and fell sideways, knocking over the chair he’d been sitting on.
He hit the floor with a heavy thud and rolled onto his back as Amanda’s full weight came crashing down on him.
She let out an animal howl and shoved her knee into his groin. The pain exploded through his body, driving the air from his lungs.
He started twisting and bucking, desperate to get her off him, but she was much stronger than she looked and he couldn’t shift her.
Her face was above him, her eyes flashing with anger, her mouth foaming. She was snarling and spitting as she pressed her hands into his shoulders, pinning him to the floor. Then she drove her forehead into his face and his nose erupted with a crack of bone and a blast of pain.
He cried out and grabbed her arms, then bunched up his muscles and gave a mighty shove with all the strength he could muster. He managed to push her off him and roll away from her. He clambered to his knees, but as he tried to stand up he was assailed by an intense dizziness.
He struggled to get his vision back, his senses, but the room was spinning and everything became a blur.
Which was why he didn’t see the next blow coming.
Amanda pounded a fist into his mouth and it drove him up against one of the kitchen cabinets. He gave a yelp of pain and felt blood and saliva gushing out of his mouth.
‘This is your own fault, copper,’ Amanda yelled. ‘You asked too many fucking questions.’
Temple sat there, stunned, as he gulped down oxygen and braced himself for another attack.
He opened his eyes, tried to focus, saw Amanda moving quickly towards him.
Instinctively, he kicked out with every bit of force he had left inside him and managed to sweep her legs from under her. She screamed out in surprise and anger as she topple
d over.
Temple heaved himself to his feet and his limbs trembled with the effort. Thankfully his vision cleared enough for him to get his bearings. He saw that Amanda was also pulling herself up.
He staggered towards her and let fly with a punch that was aimed at her face. But she turned and his fist glanced off the side of her head.
She responded by lunging forwards and grabbing his neck, then digging her thumbs into his throat. Her breath was hot on his face and there was madness in her eyes.
Temple seized her hair with his left hand and used his right to deliver a blow to her stomach. She let out a manly grunt and loosened her grip on his neck.
He pummelled her shoulder with the heel of his right hand and she stumbled backwards. But to his shock and amazement, her hair came away from her head and he found himself holding onto a wig.
Confused and disoriented, he just stared, his eyes bulging in disbelief.
Then suddenly it dawned on him that he was no longer looking at Amanda Cross.
She had turned into her brother!
‘That’s right, copper,’ she yelled. ‘We’re one and the same.’
Temple was too distracted to see that his attacker had regained her – or rather his – balance and was reaching for an object on the worktop.
And he didn’t see that it was the kettle until it was flying through the air towards him.
He tried to duck but it smashed into his left shoulder and sent steaming water across the back of his neck. The pain was excruciating and it took his breath away.
He felt himself falling and placed a hand against the wall to stay upright.
Then he heard his attacker’s ragged breath behind him. He spun round, raising his arms to protect his face. But the blow that came struck him on top of the head and shattered his senses.
A second later, waves of darkness crashed over him.
60
When Temple came round he had no idea how much time had passed. He felt woozy and light-headed. Pain was beating a tattoo against his brain and each time he inhaled, it felt like daggers piercing his lungs. His neck was throbbing where the hot water had scorched the flesh. His mouth tasted of blood and he was pretty sure that his nose was broken.
