Killing the Beasts

by Chris Simms

  Jon let out a snort of breath. 'Not even debatable.'

  McCloughlin's chuckle was dry and emotionless. 'Let's talk outside.' At the bottom of the steps he said, 'So, assuming that's the same stuff blocking her throat, we've got a second victim.'

  Jon nodded. 'I don't like the look of this, Boss. Those two women couldn't inhabit more different worlds. A skinny ravehead with tattoos who works in a music shop and a fundo-freak with a weight problem who sleeps with half the cast of Disneyworld each night. I imagine that they're not the best of mates.'

  McCloughlin looked up. 'It could work out to be great news. Let's assume those two girls' lives are as massively different as they appear to be. Their paths have crossed somewhere. They've been to the same place, met the same person or done the same thing at some point. If we can find out what that thing is, we're a huge step closer to catching whoever did this. So let's start cross-referencing every aspect of their lives. Who they know, where they've been, what they've done. The works.'

  Now there were two victims, Jon didn't know if he was still in charge of the investigation or not. He was just wondering how to ask the question when McCloughlin's mobile went.

  He fumbled around trying to get his hand inside the scene-ofcrime suit. 'Yes?'

  Once again his eyes wandered towards Jon as the information was relayed to him, but this time they showed genuine alarm. 'OK, OK, yes. I understand.' Finally he flipped the phone shut. 'A third body has been found. Not four miles from here. Heather Rayne, thirty-two years old, IT trainer at Kellogg's, throat blocked with a white gel.'

  Jon could only manage a whispered, 'Jesus.'

  McCloughlin was staring at the tarmac. 'Right, this changes everything. I'm moving the incident room to Longsight. I'll need the facilities and extra space there. I'll talk to you later about moving your team over from Ashton. In the meantime, stay here and start asking questions. Begin with the girl who found her.'

  As McCloughlin started walking back across the yard, Jon said, 'Boss? I wasn't sure about ordering a mass spectrometer analysis of the first victim's blood. Budgetary concerns...'

  McCloughlin interrupted him. 'Forget the budget on this; get it ordered.' He disappeared round the corner.

  Chapter 12

  1 November 2002

  Jon sat down on the footplate of the ambulance, making sure the level of his head was lower than hers, ensuring his presence was as unthreatening as possible. 'Hello, my name's Jon Spicer from Greater Manchester Police. I understand that you discovered Mary?'

  The girl raised her head, complete lack of make-up making the redness below her nostrils more apparent. She wore a sensible lilaccoloured overcoat, Marks & Spencer's probably, and her hair was held back by a band very similar to Mary's. Jon guessed they went to the same church.

  'Yes I did,' she whispered, dabbing a damp handkerchief at her nose.

  'How did you know Mary?'

  'We go to the same church, St Luke's on Alexandra Road. That was where we were going this morning. I call round for her.'

  Jon thought for a second. 'So was her front door open? How did you get in?'

  She fished in her pockets and produced a set of keys. 'I let myself in. I have a key from when I looked after her cat, Mogwai. He died in the summer. She didn't answer the door, but I knew she was in. I'd spoken to her last thing yesterday night.'

  'Last thing? How do you mean, exactly?'

  'We often ring each other before going to bed.' She looked like she was about to start crying again.

  'And she sounded normal?'

  'Yes, we're preparing a play for the Sunday school class. She rang off saying she'd see me this morning.'

  'Was she expecting anyone else to be calling round last night?'

  'I don't think so. Not at that time.'

  'A boyfriend?' Emma's eyes widened in shock. 'Oh no. She wasn't seeing anyone, I'm sure of that.'

  Jon noted her defensive, almost possessive tone. 'Fair enough. One other thing. There's a sign round the back about a CCTV.'

  Her face reddened and she looked down at her hands.

  'Is there a camera somewhere?'

  Emma started fiddling with her hanky. 'No. Mary put the sign up to stop the cars. Men would drive round the back with prostitutes. They'd leave soiled contraceptives behind. It went on all the time after it got dark.'

  Hiding his disappointment, Jon said, 'OK Emma, when you feel ready, I'll get an officer to drive you to the station if that's all right. We'll need a statement.'

  The girl didn't object. Another car pulled up and two plain clothes officers got out.

  Jon stood up. 'Thanks for your help. 'Having recognized them as CID officers he had worked with once or twice before, Jon made a beeline for them. 'All right boys? DI Spicer, MISU.'

  He saw recognition and then surprise play across their faces. Jon sensed slight resentment that he'd beaten them to the crime scene. 'We got a call straight from the control room. This one matches another from two days ago.'

  'That girl over in Hyde?' asked one.

  'Yup.'

  No one spoke and Jon could sense from their expressions that they were wondering if he was the SIO, not quite able to believe that he would have been handed such a major investigation so soon. He decided to leave them wondering. 'I just need a word with the SOCO; see you in a bit.' He walked back along the side of the house and called in through the back door. 'Hello? DI Spicer again.'

  The SOCO reappeared in the hallway.

  'Any chance of dusting the doorbell as a priority? Someone called round before her friend turned up.'

  Jon got in just before nine o'clock, Punch bounding down the corridor in delight at his arrival. As he tickled his dog's stomach, he could hear Alice and Ellie in the kitchen. The laughter in their voices made him smile.

  'How's it going, girls?' He was careful to inject some life into his voice, even though he was completely exhausted.

  They were laying out the cartons of curry on the table, a stack of naan breads to the side. 'Good timing,' said Alice as he kissed her on the cheek.

  Ellie gave him a massive squeeze and opened up the fridge. 'Does big bro want a Stella?'

  Jon licked his lips. 'You beauty.'

  She cracked two open and a can of diet Lilt for Alice.

  'Any news on the handbag?' asked Jon, taking a swig.

  'Nah,' said Alice with a note of finality in her voice. 'It's gone – probably at the bottom of a canal somewhere.' She pointed with a fork at the cartons. 'Prawn dopiaza, beef madras and vegetable korma.'

  As they were eating, Jon said to Ellie, 'Have you seen the wrinklies lately?'

  Ellie rolled her big brown eyes. 'Mum's just enrolling on an evening class in picture framing at Ridge Danyers College. Before that they're going on a sailing holiday round the Greek islands. Dad's knees are giving him loads of grief now the weather's turning colder.'

  Their dad had worked all his life in the docks at Salford, unloading the cargoes that were carried up the Manchester Ship Canal on vessels from all over the world. During the early part of his career only low levels of mechanization existed and the years of toil had taken their toll.

  Jon turned to Alice. 'Our childhood holidays involved nothing more than trips to Southport, Formby or Blackpool. Oh yes, one year we travelled to Anglesey and that seemed adventurous. Now look at them. One trip to Spain to celebrate the old man's retirement and they're addicted to as many foreign breaks as they can afford.'

  'Exactly,' laughed Ellie. 'I keep telling them to leave something for our inheritance.'

  Once the curry was finished Alice glanced at the clock on the wall. 'Shit, it's nearly ten. We'd better get this video on.'

  After the lift of his first few sips, the beer had brought on a wave of tiredness. Now, with a stomach full of curry, Jon could feel sleep dragging him down. He got up to shake himself out of it. 'What did you get?' he asked, pulling two more cans out of the fridge, hoping another might bring him back to life. 'O Brother, Where Art Thou?' a
nswered Ellie, cramming the debris from the takeaway into the bin.

  Nodding at her choice, he handed her a can and they went through into the TV room, turned the lights down and put the video on.

  Twenty minutes later, Alice nudged Ellie and pointed over to Jon. He was fast asleep in the frayed old armchair, legs straight out, one hand curled round the can on his stomach, the other resting on the top of Punch's head.

  Ellie reached over and plucked the beer from his fingers. 'Poor old codger.'

  Alice laughed quietly as she reached towards the table. Spread out on it was a variety of different chewing gums.

  'Got enough flavours there?' Ellie asked as Alice selected a cinnamon one.

  'Anything's better than the nicotine type. Taste like some sort of mouthwash gone wrong. Help yourself, by the way.'

  Ellie started sifting through them, 'Still finding giving up hard then?'

  Alice blew her cheeks out. 'Those first few cigarettes you sneak on the way back from school? It was so exciting, but if I'd known what a nightmare it would turn out to be...' She looked across at Jon. 'I'll never touch one again though, I can say that for sure.'

  'Oh?'

  Alice checked Jon's sleeping face again, 'I was dying to break some good news tonight, too.' Looking to Ellie, she tapped her fingers on her stomach.

  Ellie's face lit up. 'You're not?'

  'Looks like it.' Suddenly Alice felt tears welling up.

  They hugged each other, then Alice's eyes strayed back to Jon as he started to snore. 'I've been bursting to tell him, but this investigation he's on... I'll just have to wait for a better time.'

  'I won't say a thing,' whispered Ellie.

  Later, as the film credits rolled, Ellie yawned and got to her feet. 'Right, I'd better get back.' She started reaching for her jacket.

  'You're not walking home now.'

  Ellie laughed. 'It's only five minutes away.'

  'Ellie, 'Alice said more sternly, cursing the fact she'd never passed her driving test. 'I'll wake Jon up – he can take you in the car.'

  'No, leave him.'

  'Crash in the spare room, then, 'Alice insisted. 'I've got a clean T-shirt and knickers you can borrow.'

  Ellie hovered at the door. 'You sure? I don't want to be—'

  'You're not,' Alice interrupted. 'Anyway, you can't leave me to sort those two out on my own.'

  As they looked at Jon and Punch, both dead to the world, a mobile started to ring.

  'Who's taking care of...' Jon started saying, the fractured remains of a dream dying on his lips. He blinked at the two women, realizing where he was. 'That my phone?'

  Alice fetched it from his jacket and tossed it over.

  'Jon Spicer here,' he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. He remained silent for a few seconds before interrupting the flow of words. 'Hold it, hold it. I'm not on the case any more.' He listened again. 'Well, the list should have been updated. A memo went out yesterday. No, don't worry, it's not your fault. Yeah, any of the other officers. 'He was about to hang up when he said, 'By the way, what type of car was it?' He gave the sort of nod that indicated he wasn't surprised and pressed the red button.

  Looking at Alice and Ellie's questioning faces, he explained, 'It was the duty officer at Altrincham police station. He still had me down as being on the team for Operation Fisherman. Some guy just heard a car revving on his front drive, looked out the window to see his Porsche roaring off up the street.'

  Hating the fact he was no longer involved, Jon sat back in the armchair. One hand returned to the top of Punch's head as a memory of Tom in his Porsche Boxter resurfaced.

  Chapter 13

  July 2002

  Jon stood next to the officer brushing powder over the handle of Tom's garage door. Hearing a car slow down on the road behind him, he turned to see a bright yellow Porsche Boxter coming to a halt at the mouth of the drive, its way blocked by the police van. The car reversed back on to the street and Tom got out.

  'How are you?' called Jon, striding across the small lawn, one hand held out.

  His friend looked up and Jon was shocked at how washed out he looked.

  As they shook hands Tom said, 'I didn't expect plain clothes to come out for a garage break in.'

  'Well, anything for a mate, you know? How's tricks anyway?'

  Tom sighed. 'I'm just about hanging in there – praying for these bloody Games to be over. It's been absolutely crazy at work.'

  'You and me both. We've had to pull in extra officers from all the forces bordering Greater Manchester. Someone's worked out that the Commonwealth Games operation is equivalent to policing three premiership football matches every day for ten days.'

  Tom nodded. 'I can believe that. Still,' he spoke out of the side of his mouth, as if sharing a secret, 'not long now until I pack the whole thing in. Then it's Cornwall here I come.'

  'I must admit, it looks like all that corporate entertaining is finally taking its toll on you,' said Jon with a good-natured grin. 'Can you not delegate a bit of the wining and dining?'

  Tom rolled his eyes. 'I wish. These marketing types, they feel like it's an affront to their status if it's not the MD personally taking them out. I never thought I'd say it, but I'm absolutely sick of restaurant meals. Unfortunately, I have another tonight.' He shrugged. 'Anyway, enough about me. What brings you out to something like this?' He nodded towards his garage. 'I didn't miss a dead body in there, did I?'

  Jon smiled. 'No, you're fine there. Actually, the reason why I'm involved is this.' He placed a hand on the bonnet of Tom's Porsche. 'Was it parked in your garage last night?'

  'No. I was entertaining clients, so I left it in town. I rang a cab to take me back in this morning and when I came out of the house I saw the garage door was open. I couldn't remember if I'd locked it or not, so I glanced inside and could see someone had been in.'

  'Anything taken?'

  'No, but I thought I'd better report it for insurance purposes at least.'

  'Which is how I got to hear about it,' said Jon, leading Tom towards the officer who was now kneeling at the garage door's lock. 'Anything that looks like it could be the work of the gang stealing high-performance cars is referred to us.'

  'But I don't understand. Why my garage?'

  'Well.' Jon lowered his voice. 'I didn't mention it to Charlotte, but a car was taken off a driveway on the next street, so it appears they were in this area last night. They've obviously cased out your house before. Perhaps they saw your Porsche wasn't on the drive and thought it might be in the garage, with the keys.'

  'Jesus Christ, Jon, you're saying that they're actively targeting my house?'

  Jon weighed up how to play things. 'You live in an area they regularly drive around, that's all. But they're getting nastier with their tactics. One has gone into a couple of houses recently and threatened the owners. Single women so far. The last time he went up the stairs and into the victim's bedroom because she'd taken her handbag and car keys upstairs with her. Just be careful with your keys at night. You keep them on a hook now, don't you?'

  Tom nodded. 'Ever since the Audi went.'

  'Good. Keep them there. If they're on a hook, you prevent the fishing trick. But if they burst in anyway, at least your keys are there for them to grab.'

  'What? You're saying if they kick in my front door I should just let them take the Porsche?'

  'It would be the best way to resolve the situation without anyone getting injured.' 'Bollocks! The best way to resolve it would be to keep a baseball bat in my bedroom and brain the fuckers with it.'

  Jon shook his head. 'Tom, it's just a car. What if you run down the stairs, trip in the dark, go arse over tit, drop your bat and end up with some very angry car thieves standing over you?'

  Tom considered this and snorted in reluctant agreement. 'It's tempting to get a bloody gun.'

  Jon looked at him. 'Don't even think about it. We're not the States. Not yet, anyway. Don't do anything stupid, OK?'

  Tom was silen
t for a bit and then said, 'Remember that time in the Bull's Head? You said these people live in a different world from you and me. You said I didn't want them coming anywhere near my world. Well Jon, it looks like they're in it, doesn't it? It looks like they're wandering around just as they please. And it seems you can't do a thing about it, and I'm not allowed to.'

  His words stung, and not just because they were pointing out how ineffective the police were. In Jon's mind they were also a statement of how he was failing to protect a friend. 'We'll catch these guys soon; they're getting far too cocky. You can make my job easier by not getting involved. OK?'

  'OK.'

  Suspecting that his capitulation wasn't genuine, Jon looked down at the officer. 'Anything?'

  The other man got back to his feet. 'A couple of partials.'

  Jon looked at Tom. 'We'll keep those prints on file. When we catch this lot we'll be able to link them to here and dozens of other places.'

  As the uniformed officer loaded his kit into the back of the van, Jon said, 'Hey, talking of the Commonwealth Games, I put my name down for tickets to the rugby sevens and got allocated a couple for the quarter-finals. Fancy it?'

  Tom thought for a few seconds. 'What day's it on?'

  'Saturday the third of August.'

  'Yeah, I'm up for it, cheers.'

  'Nice one,' said Jon, walking round to the passenger seat of the van. 'I'll give you a bell nearer the time.'

  As the van pulled out on to the road, Jon looked over his shoulder and saw Tom standing on his front lawn, one hand held in the air.

  *

  Once the vehicle had disappeared round the corner, Tom dropped his hand and looked at the garage door. The thought of people prowling round his property at night, lifting his letterbox and testing his doors, created a strange mix of fear and anger. And now he'd learned they were bursting in to people's bedrooms. He took his mobile from his pocket and dialled a number. 'Brain, it's Tom here.'

  They went through the usual formalities before Brain said he had plenty of shopping in.