by Casey Hill
‘OK, fine. Talk to you soon.’
‘Thanks, Detective. I look forward to speaking with you,’ he said, before hanging up the phone.
‘Nice move, Forrest,’ Reilly quipped, letting him know in no uncertain terms that she realized exactly what he was up to.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he replied, smiling. ‘Just doing my job and making sure everybody’s on the same page.’
The crime scene was as unappealing as any other. The two boys were found in an old battered blue Ford Transit owned by one of them. They had been dead for a while, and even in a chilly Dublin spring the decomposition was advanced enough to make the inside of the van a very unpleasant place.
Karen Thompson was in discussion with Kennedy when Reilly arrived. ‘Looks like this one’s more than a few days old,’ she told Reilly.
‘Were you able to ascertain time of death?’
‘Not yet, decomp is too far advanced for that. And as for cause … nothing obvious but there are indeed needle marks, which could well be from our pentobarbital-happy friend. I’ll be able to rule that in or out once I’ve run the tox screen.’
‘Cheers,’ Kennedy mumbled, miserably.
Karen picked up her bag. ‘I’ll put a rush on it and let you know as soon as I have something.’
‘Appreciate it,’ replied Reilly. She turned to Kennedy. ‘Shall we?’
The van had somehow survived thirty-odd years of hard work and neglect. Between the rust and the dents and the half-hearted re-sprays it was a sorry sight – the perfect vehicle for a pair of teenage boys to use and abuse.
Rather than head straight inside it, Kennedy walked slowly round the outside of the van, Reilly beside him.
‘Think it’s our guy?’ he asked, quietly.
She shrugged. ‘The Doc seems to think it might be.’
They paused, staring at the front of the van, its cracked windscreen, a dirty pair of black and white fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror.
‘Kids … businessmen … old folks … what’s the connection?’ Kennedy asked, having filled her in on what little they’d learned from the homeless man. ‘Does he know these guys beforehand or what?’
‘I’m not sure there is a relationship of any kind,’ Reilly said, making a note to talk to Daniel about the charity angle. ‘I think he simply tracks down someone who meets his criteria. Daniel thinks he’s a watcher,’ she added, thinking about their conversation earlier.
‘Great, If that’s the case, the asshole could be around here now watching us, couldn’t he?’
In the windscreen of the van Reilly looked at the reflection of the surrounding buildings. It was a rundown industrial area full of abandoned warehouses, their broken windows looking back at them like toothless homeless people.
‘I certainly hope not.’ She put a gloved hand on the door handle. ‘Let’s check this out.’
The GFU team were nearby – they had waited patiently, already knowing better than to disturb Reilly when she was talking to the police.
‘Lucy, you take the outside of the van. Gary, check the area around here – this is a pretty deserted spot.’ She glanced involuntarily up at the windows around them again then back at him. ‘Take a uniform with you – check if any of these buildings are unlocked.’
‘What am I looking for?’
‘Anywhere accessible that overlooks this site – if you find somewhere, look for any sign that someone has been there.’
‘Got it.’
Gary headed off and began explaining what he needed to one of the attending officers at the scene. Reilly watched him and couldn’t help but smile – he’d picked the biggest uniform he could find. Lucy meanwhile, had her kit open and was already taking photos of the outside of the van.
‘You’ve done a good job with them,’ Kennedy observed, quietly.
She turned, surprised by the unexpected praise. ‘They’re a good group.’
‘They still needed training though.’
Reilly shrugged. ‘Just needed someone to awaken their instincts.’
They peered in the van. The two boys were naked, stacked one on top of the other. If it was the work of their killer, this time it was pretty obvious what he’d had them do.
‘Jesus, how does he get people to do these things?’ Kennedy said, sucking air through his teeth. ‘I’ve met some persuasive types, but this one really takes the biscuit …’
‘The threat of death can be very persuasive,’ Reilly replied. She climbed up and squatted in the van, Kennedy right behind her.
‘Want me to wait out here while you have a sniff around?’ he said.
She couldn’t help but smile. ‘You know, you really should think about trying some touchy-feely stuff yourself sometime; you might surprise yourself.’
‘That’s what the wife keeps telling me,’ he replied with a grin and Reilly shook her head indulgently.
She closed her eyes, trying to picture the scene.
The killer was in the back of the van with the two boys, there was an old mattress, a couple of grubby blankets, speakers from the van’s stereo fixed to the ceiling. They were … they were …
‘Anything coming to you?’ he asked, this time without cynicism.
She opened her eyes. ‘Could be the female accomplice we wondered about. Maybe she let the boys pick her up, knowing they had the van.’ She gestured to the mattress, the blankets, the speakers. ‘This was their little love nest, a place they brought girls.’
‘And our guy knew about it.’
‘Right. He needed two guys who weren’t homosexual to fit the taboo – there would be no fun if it wasn’t abhorrent them to.’
‘Good point. What else?’
Reilly tried to picture it in her mind. ‘Maybe she would pick them up, tempt them with an offer of a threesome, something like that. Then, when they got started – I think she’d let them have some fun for a while, knowing all the time that she was in control. Then he’d show up—’
‘And turn the tables?’
‘Exactly. It feeds directly into that need for risk, excitement, control … and in the end the taboo act itself – ultimate control.’
Kennedy looked around inside the van. ‘Didn’t leave us much this time, did he?’
‘No, and that’s worrying me a little.’
‘Why? He knows that by now we’d identify it as his work, so why bother leaving anything extra?’
‘Because he has done so far.’
He looked at her. ‘You think there’s something we’re missing?’
‘Either missing or haven’t found yet.’ She looked around. ‘Remember, based on the clue left at the lab, this one is supposed to have happened before the Miles women, and that one had a very clear Freudian message.’
Kennedy shone a torch around the gloomy interior of the van. ‘Not much space in here to hide something though.’
‘There are plenty of ways to hide something if you want to make it hard to find.’
Their conversation was suddenly disturbed by Reilly’s phone. She glanced at the display and saw that it was Gary. She stepped out of the van and looked up at the surrounding buildings, wondering where he was. ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m in the warehouse - there’s something up here you need to see,’ he said, sounding breathless.
‘Give me a second; I’ll be right there.’
Kennedy looked at her, expectantly. ‘He found something?’
She nodded. ‘Don’t tell me you’re surprised.’
‘I’ll keep going here – you go and see what it is.’
Minutes later, Reilly pushed open the broken door of an abandoned warehouse – it was just a few meters up the road from the van and would have a perfect view of the grounds. A set of dusty stairs took her up to the third floor, where the uniform waited at the top of the stairs to meet her.
‘In here,’ he said, somewhat unnecessarily, pointing at the only open door.
Reilly stepped into a huge dusty storage r
oom. Abandoned boxes of files and papers littered the floor, and a rat quickly scuttled away into the shadows as she walked over toward the window where Gary stood.
‘What have you got?’
He pointed out the window. ‘Look.’
Reilly stood beside him and peered out through a broken window at the van, two stories below them. Her blood ran cold as she read the words, painted carefully onto the roof:
‘To lose one parent is unfortunate. To lose both is carelessness.’
Oh Christ ….
Reilly snatched her phone from her pocket and quickly punched in her father’s number. It rang, cold and harsh in her ear, once … twice … three times … and then on and on without an answer.
‘Shit!’ She darted from the room, her heart hammering, and charged down the old wooden stairs, her footsteps echoing through the building as her feet threw up clouds of dust. She stormed out of the building, eager to get back to Kennedy, and ran into the one person in the world she least wanted to see.
Jack Gorman stood blocking her path. And the head of the forensic unit clearly wasn’t at all happy about being summoned home early from his anniversary cruise.
‘What the bloody hell is going on here?’ he demanded. He was a small man with a sharp face and the bluster such men often wore to cover up for their insecurities.
‘Gorman?’ Reilly gasped, both amazed and horrified to see him standing in front of her. ‘I didn’t realize you were coming back so soon—’
‘Didn’t have much of a choice, did I?’ he snorted. ‘What with the shenanigans that have been going on in my absence.’ He pointed accusingly at the GFU van. ‘And what do I find? Young Lucy processing a crime scene and Gary running around like he’s in an episode of Miami-bloody-Vice!’ His face was almost puce – he looked in danger of exploding. ‘It’s like the whole place has gone mad since I left. This isn’t how we do things, Steel.’
As Gorman ranted, heads popped out from all over – Lucy from the front of the van, Gary from the building behind, Kennedy from inside the van. Reilly cursed inwardly; this was the last thing she needed right now.
‘Let’s talk about that later, but first I need to—’
‘Let me assure you that I’ve not let myself be dragged halfway round the world for nothing. I want to be brought up to speed with where we’re at right now,’ he ordered, his Caribbean tan masking the blood rushing to his head. It was difficult to tell what was upsetting him most, the fact that they were facing potentially the biggest serial murder case the country had ever seen, or that his trip of a lifetime had been cut short. ‘Lucy, I don’t even know what you’re doing here – get back to the lab.’
Lucy stayed rooted to the spot, seemingly unsure what to do, and Reilly faced Gorman, refusing to be intimidated by him. ‘She’s here at my request,’ she explained, patiently.
‘Lucy, are you deaf? I told you to—’
‘Excuse me – you have no right to speak to a member of—’
‘It’s OK, Reilly.’ Lucy interjected. She eyed Gorman. ‘I’m going, Dad.’
Shocked, Reilly whirled around and stared at her protégée. Dad? What the hell …?
For the life of her she couldn’t remember hearing or being told anything on arrival at the GFU about Lucy being related to Gorman. No wonder he was always so dismissive toward her and she in turn so understandably eager for Reilly’s approval. Christ, as if she didn’t have enough to get her head around just now.
‘Good. Let the rest of them finish things off. In the meantime, Steel, I want you back at headquarters and in my office – we need to get to the bottom of this investigation.’ Clearly he was determined to show everyone who was boss.
Reilly stared at his angry face for a moment, then pushed past him. ‘I’m sorry but I really don’t have time for this just now,’ she replied. Gorman would have to wait; making sure her own father was safe was her biggest priority.
‘Excuse me?’ He seemed shocked that she didn’t immediately bow to his demands.
‘I’m sorry but there’s something I need to do—’
‘May I remind you that I am head of this unit,’ he continued, puffing out his chest. ‘Which makes me your superior.’
Reilly gave a resigned nod, then hurried toward Kennedy, who was watching the exchange with interest. ‘I need a favor,’ she said, breathlessly.
He put his hands up. ‘Hey, don’t get me involved in this.’
‘No, it’s not about Gorman … it’s something else entirely. I think … I think my dad could be in danger,’ she said, quickly explaining about the message Gary had found.
‘Fucking hell …’ Kennedy’s gaze moved to Gorman who was approaching fast.
‘How dare you ignore me, Steel!’ the older man shouted. ‘I refuse to be treated like this.’
‘Please,’ Reilly implored. ‘I need to check on him, make sure he’s OK.’
‘Do you think there’s a real chance that—’
‘Yes.’
‘Steel. Are you listening to me?’ Gorman continued.
‘Gorman, maybe this isn’t the time—’ Kennedy began.
‘All right then. The two of you, back in my office – right now!’
Kennedy seemed to make a snap decision. He pulled out his mobile phone. ‘I’ll send a unit over there straightaway. Where did you say he lived?’
‘In the Liberties,’ Reilly said quickly. Then she thought of something. ‘Wait a second, Chris knows the house; do you think he would—’
‘Of course he would,’ Kennedy said, making the call.
31
‘I don’t understand,’ Chris said. He was facing Daniel Forrest who sat at the opposite side of his desk. ‘You don’t buy Reilly’s accomplice theory?’
‘No.’ Daniel’s expression was neutral.
‘But what about the coercion, or the blond hair?’
‘Just bear with me for a moment,’ the profiler sat forward, about to explain. But their conversation was interrupted by Chris’s mobile.
‘Just one second,’ he said, holding up a finger. ‘Kennedy, what’s up?’ He listened for a moment then frowned. ‘Is she sure? Yeah, I know exactly where it is – of course, I’ll go straight away.’ Hanging up, he looked at Forrest. ‘Reilly found something at the latest scene that makes her think her father’s a target. She can’t contact him on the phone and can’t get away to check on him, so asked if I would.’
From the sound of Kennedy’s voice, he guessed that Reilly was frantic. If so, his eleven-thirty doctor’s appointment would have to wait.
The other man picked up his coat. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘I don’t know if that’s a—’
‘Detective, if Reilly thinks her father might actually be in danger because of this, then I think it’s important we both check it out, don’t you?’
Chris didn’t have time to waste arguing. If the guy wanted to tag along, let him.
‘You don’t really think the killer would target her father, do you?’ he asked Daniel as he negotiated his way skilfully through the busy morning traffic. It was really more for something to say, as the American had been uncomfortably silent since they’d left the station. He’d tried Reilly’s mobile to see what the problem was but it went straight to voicemail.
‘Did your partner tell you why she thinks that?’ he asked in his usual calm, measured way. His manner actually creeped Chris out.
‘No, he just told me to get over there fast. Reilly wanted to go herself but she’s too far away and apparently time is of the essence. And besides the crime scene, she’s caught up with another work issue.’
Kennedy had mentioned something about Gorman’s appearance and given the circumstances of his return, Chris could only imagine the stink the man had raised. He felt for Reilly and could imagine how panicked she was feeling. While he himself wasn’t sure if there was anything to worry about, he was happy to help set her mind at ease. Would the killer really go after Mike? Or was it just an empty threat, another ps
ychological power play designed to throw Reilly off her game?
Daniel nodded thoughtfully. ‘She must have found something … something relevant,’ he said, as if talking to himself.
Chris said nothing. Truthfully, all he expected to find was Mike Steel passed out on his living room sofa.
The flat was silent when they arrived. After knocking and calling out a couple of times, Chris sought out the spare key that (upon Reilly’s instructions) Kennedy had told him about. Slowing entering the hallway, the two men moved from room to room continuing to call out.
‘Mr Steel? Mr Steel, are you there?’
The lights in the living room were on and the curtains were drawn.
Daniel stood quietly in the living room doorway, as Chris allowed himself time to form an impression. For some reason, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The flat was tidy, the cushions arranged neatly on the couch, the carpet vacuumed, the shoes in the hallway lined up in a straight row.
He turned to Daniel and frowned. ‘A little bit different to the last time I visited.’
‘How so?’
‘Place was like a bomb had hit it – even after Reilly did a clean-up job on it. This … it’s too tidy.’
Daniel nodded. ‘I figured that as soon as I walked in – it smells clean.’ He sniffed the air. ‘Pine cleaner, something like that.’
‘Whereas it should be smelling of booze, leftover food and stale cigarettes.’ Chris paced the room and ran his finger lightly across the mantelpiece – no dust.
‘Before we jump to any conclusions, maybe we should take a better look around,’ Daniel suggested, calmly. ‘Why don’t I take the bedroom and you try the kitchen.’
Chris nodded. He watched Daniel as he stepped into the bedroom – his flashlight was in his hands, he was alert, on his toes, all senses attuned. While Chris would have preferred working with someone he knew better, someone he trusted, he understood that there wasn’t much of a choice. Let Forrest look around and see if he could make head or tail of this. It couldn’t hurt, could it?
