Hard Truth

by Jay Gill

  “To fulfil our potential, there are those we need to leave behind. For you, David is one of those.

  “We women need to stick together, look out for one another. So I had a very long talk with David, and he agreed that he’d mistreated you and you should move on with your life without him. By the end of our conversation, he also agreed that he deserved to be punished. I will admit he is unaware of the full extent of the punishment I intend for him. Let’s just say, sometimes I get a little bit carried away. You know how it is; we both find satisfaction in our work – just in different ways.”

  Emma was shaking uncontrollably now. She could hear her voice trembling as she pleaded, “Please, no, I don’t need you to do anything on my behalf. Dave is a good man. He and I are history, yes, but he’s a good man. I’m fully focused on the investigation. I’m giving you all my attention. Just let him go. Please, let me know where he is and that he’s safe. There’s no need to hurt him. He’s no threat to you.”

  “Oh, Emma, you’re such a sweetie. David is history. Of that, you can be sure. Dave was selfish and caused you pain. I think in the long run you will thank me for what I’ve done.”

  Past tense, noticed Emma: what I’ve done.

  “Myself, I have a love-hate relationship with men. I think it’s one of the things that define who I am. I used to think it was a problem. Now I see it as a blessing.

  “It’s been lovely talking to you, Emma, but I really must go now. David has regained consciousness, and I need to strike while the iron is hot, as they say. One last thing: this is a freebie, just for you. No Scrabble piece this time.”

  “Kelly, let me speak to – ”

  The call ended.

  Emma felt the room spinning. Her body tingled. She got to her feet and began pacing up and down. She thought she might vomit. She went to the window and opened it. She needed air, lungs full of cold air. She couldn’t think. She needed to think. Emma was just about to call Hardy when her phone beeped.

  It was a message from Kelly Lyle.

  She clicked on it.

  An address.

  It must be Dave’s location. It had to be.

  Emma searched around for her keys. Finding them on the kitchen worktop, she snatched them up and sprinted out the front door.

  Even though her head was telling her she was too late, her heart was urging her to hurry. Emma prayed there was still a chance.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  An anonymous tipoff had led officers to a workshop on a small industrial estate. It was after 12.30 a.m. when I arrived. The desk sergeant who had called me told me the attending officers had insisted I would want to see the crime scene. Whether I liked it or not, I was being dragged deeper and deeper into my old routine.

  A young officer was outside the workshop throwing up. He had one hand on the wall while his legs buckled beneath him.

  The young officer’s partner came to the door and said, “It’s this way, sir. I hope you’ve got a stronger stomach than Grantham. We’re lucky he didn’t puke all over the crime scene.”

  The workshop was used by a printing business. Along one side was a guillotine and a collating machine. The back wall had racks piled high with paper of all descriptions. On the right side of the workshop was a modern-looking printing press. In the centre of the room was a long bench.

  Stairs led to the second floor; there were offices and a graphic design studio on a mezzanine floor. A walkway at the top of the stairs gave access to the offices. A handrail ran along the edge of the mezzanine floor for the safety of those using the walkway. A rope was tied to one of the handrail posts.

  At the end of the rope, hanging upside down by his feet, was the naked body of a man. His head and hands had been removed, and his stomach had been cut from left to right, its contents spilling out over what remained of him.

  The young officer looked at me. “This was on the bench. We haven’t touched it.”

  He pointed to a glass jar on a long white-topped bench. I squatted down and looked at the contents of the glass jar.

  “It’s his tongue.”

  “Yeah. It wasn’t enough to do all that to him.” He gestured at the mutilated body. “They also needed to cut out his tongue and stick it in a jar. I hope I never see anything like this again.”

  I remembered saying something similar when I was a young detective constable. Since then, I’d seen many scenes like this – and many much worse.

  I heard raised voices behind me and turned to see Emma rushing in through the front door.

  “Is it him? Is it David?”

  I looked at what was left of the body suspended from the ceiling and then back at Emma. I watched as she ran and stumbled towards the body. As she got close, she fell to her knees and let out a mournful cry.

  “I’m sorry, Cotton,” I said, without knowing why. “I don’t understand. Do you know this person?”

  “He was my fiancé.” Emma looked at me with tears pouring down her face.

  I looked at the headless body, “How can you be sure?”

  “There on his arm – the tattoos.”

  His blood-soaked right arm and shoulder were extensively tattooed.

  Emma looked at me and then behind me at the bench and glass jar.

  I needed to get her out of there. I helped her to her feet and, with my arm around her to both keep her up and keep her moving, took her outside.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  Emma leaned against the front of her car. I stood beside her, unable to fathom what was going through her mind. Her face and eyes were puffy. She blew her nose and wiped it.

  “I’m okay. He was my fiancé. We’d just broken up.” She tried to laugh. “I’d just found out he was sleeping with someone else. The trouble is, I still loved him. I probably would have taken him back, if we’d had a chance to work it through.”

  Emma rooted around in a pocket and found another tiny piece of tissue to wipe her nose.

  “I wish you hadn’t seen that.” I looked back towards the horror show in the workshop.

  I took off my jacket and put it around her.

  I realised how little I knew about Emma’s life beyond this investigation. I felt helpless, seeing her this way. She looked so vulnerable and so alone. I wanted to put my arm around her and tell her everything would be okay, but I stopped myself. I knew the Emma I recognised, the fierce and tenacious Detective Inspector Emma Cotton, would soon be ready to hunt down the bastard who had done this unspeakable crime. She’d make them pay. That was the reason I didn’t comfort her.

  Emma brushed herself off and cleared her throat. She looked at me and struggled to find the words.

  “Lyle did this.”

  I said nothing. I waited, giving her time to compose her thoughts.

  “Lyle called me a couple of hours ago… to tell me she had David… She wanted me to know she had him. That I could do nothing... nothing to stop her punishing him… Her killing him this way was a gift, for me.”

  In her eyes, I could see Emma was holding onto the blame for David’s death.

  “You couldn’t have stopped this, Cotton. You’re not to blame in any way. She killed him several hours ago. She’s playing with you. Whatever she told you, it was a lie. You couldn’t have got here in time. There was nothing you could have done to stop this.”

  Emma took off my jacket and passed it back to me and said, “Thank you.” After a moment, she asked me, “What’s this about a recording? I heard someone say there was a video. I want to see it. Don’t look at me like that.”

  The fighter is back, I thought.

  “It’s on a smartphone left on what remained of David’s clothes, the clothes she cut from his body.

  “There is only one phone number on the phone, which we now know is your number. I haven’t watched the whole recording but what I have seen is disturbing. It’s very graphic. I’m not sure you should see it. Or at least, not right now. You should give yourself a little time.”

  Emma said, “Time is something we d
on’t have. Don’t you dare sideline me on this. It’s my investigation, and no matter how far it goes, I’m in all the way. Show me the damn recording.”

  Emma’s eyes were full of fire; I could tell she was going to see the recording whether I thought it was a good idea or not.

  The recording bounced around at first. It showed the floor moving past and the sound of someone walking. The picture panned left and right then all over the place.

  “Fast-forward a few minutes,” I said. “We can analyse the full recording another time.”

  Suddenly the video showed Dave’s face. I turned to Emma, who showed no emotion. The frame then pulled back to reveal David’s naked body. I could see no blood, but his face was red from exertion, and he was crying.

  In a soothing tone, Kelly Lyle was shushing him and asking him to hush.

  The picture moved again, and as it panned back, it became apparent David was hanging upside down. Arms tied behind his back.

  “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone. It’s not too late to let me go. You seem like a nice lady. What’s your name? Let’s talk. My name’s David Howes. Let’s work this out. If I upset you in any way, I’m sorry. It’s not too late – just let me go. I can pay you. Do you want money? How much do you want?”

  Not wanting to see, yet unable to stop himself, Dave’s eyes followed Lyle as she moved about the room. Full of fear, he didn’t stop watching her for a second.

  Then his expression changed. Momentarily, his mouth and eyes widened, before he squeezed them shut. Whatever was about to happen, he no longer wanted to see.

  David started screaming, “Dear God, no, oh, dear God, no.”

  Lyle’s voice was angry. “Open your eyes, Dave. Open your eyes now, or I’ll cut off your eyelids.”

  As best he could, David did as instructed.

  Lyle walked around David as she spoke to him. “I know you like games. You think you’re a big man…”

  “No, I don’t. You have the wrong person,” spluttered Dave.

  “Interrupt again, Dave, and I’ll cut your head off, right here, right now. You think you can trample over women? That you can play games with women? I’m a woman. Shall we see how much you like my games?”

  Dave began screaming, an inhuman scream. Spots of blood and streaks of blood appeared on his face as his body buckled and rocked from the pain.

  The screaming changed to a deep, pitiful murmur.

  The camera zoomed out again and showed where Dave’s lower body had been cut and slashed.

  Lyle appeared in front of the camera again. She crouched in front of Dave and said, “Open your mouth, Dave.”

  Dave screamed and whined. His body moved like a fish out of water as Lyle worked on him.

  The screaming stopped, and there was silence as Dave passed out, his body and mind unable to take any more.

  Lyle’s blood-soaked hand appeared briefly in front of the camera, and then the bloody horror of David’s butchered and bloodied face was revealed.

  The sound of Lyle’s footsteps. The clink of metal as the instrument used to cut him was put down. The sound of a lid closing.

  The camera was picked up then and approached Dave’s body. Lyle filmed him from all sides, then angled the camera down at the pool of blood gathering below Dave’s swaying body.

  We watched as Kelly Lyle washed and dried her hands in the workshop’s sink then walked back towards of Dave’s limp body. As she walked, she turned the camera on herself and began to speak.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  “I hope, given time, you’ll appreciate what I’ve done for you, Emma. But right now, we’re running out of time. So much still to come and so little time. There’s another big surprise coming up very soon. I need everyone’s attention on this. That means you too, Hardy. Are you there, James? Of course you are; I know you can’t stay away from something like this. You and I are similar in so many ways.

  “I still have very fond memories of the very first time we met. Do you remember? We sat beneath the stars, and you reassured me. Are you comforting Emma the way you comforted me? I bet you are. He’s such a gentleman, isn’t he, Emma?

  “Back to David. I’ve nearly finished with him. I’m going to remove his hands and head now. Then he’ll be ready for you.

  “Before I go, I want you to know everything is in place for the next part of the game. James, I’ll see you then.”

  The phone moved around again. Lyle set it down and angled it so that she could film herself. We watched a few more seconds as she brought Dave around from unconsciousness. Then, as the screaming started again, Emma switched off the phone. I gave her some space. She walked around for a while, getting herself together.

  Lyle’s words about there being another surprise worried me. The fact she was announcing it suggested she had something even more terrifying planned. Until we could figure out what that might be, I wanted to keep Emma close.

  When she finally walked back over to me, I said quietly, “You’ve been through a hell of a lot tonight, and I would consider it a personal favour if you would come and stay at my house. I don’t want you alone right now, so unless you have someone you can go and stay with, I want you to stay close to me. We have room.”

  “I don’t need a bloody babysitter,” said Emma.

  “I’m not suggesting that. I think the smart thing is that we play safe. That means we look out for each other. I want to know you’ve got my back, and right now I’ve got yours.”

  I could see Emma thought she didn’t want to look weak, so I made it easier for her.

  “We need to get ahead of this, which means we need to put in more hours. Why waste time going back and forth to the office when we can work from my study? I have a guest room, freshly decorated and never used. We can work smarter and try and find a way to stop Lyle once and for all.”

  Reluctantly, Emma agreed. “I need to go back to my place and get a few things.”

  “I’ll come with you. For the time being, we stick together as much as possible.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Having found her way to the kitchen for breakfast, I think it would be fair to say Emma must have been a little surprised at how noisy and busy the house was.

  Sandy immediately started barking with excitement at seeing her – a new face in the house.

  Mum had popped in for before visiting Dad, who was still in the hospital and would soon undergo a further heart operation. They were deep in conversation while preparing a healthy breakfast for everyone. Since Dad’s heart scare, mealtimes consisted of a lot more fruit and vegetables. I was going along with it, for the time being. I suspected the new regime wouldn’t last long

  Alice had an exam coming up and was in the next room practising the violin.

  Faith was on the family iPad laughing and talking to friends. She was explaining to them that she’d had a woman detective inspector staying at her house overnight. I had no doubt that as soon as she got the chance, Faith would be interrogating Emma.

  Handing a cup of coffee to Emma, I said, “Good morning. Sorry about the noise. How are you feeling? How did you sleep?”

  “I’m okay, thank you. I slept surprisingly well.”

  Emma looked around at what I can only imagine she considered pandemonium.

  Tongue in cheek, I said, “It can get a little chaotic in the Hardy household. You should see it on a busy morning.”

  Emma laughed, and I introduced her to everyone while we all sat down for breakfast.

  Discretely, Mum gave Emma a hug and a kiss and said how sorry she was. I’d explained the situation to Mum and Monica. Naturally, Alice and Faith had no idea about the terrifying events of the previous night.

  While my elder daughter, Alice, was playing the perfect hostess by helping Monica serve breakfast, Faith made sure she was sat next to Emma and observed her while taking mental notes. It didn’t take long before she began her interrogation.

  “Do you come from a big family?” she asked, immediately followed
by, “Emma, are you married? You’re not wearing a wedding ring. How long have you been a detective inspector? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What’s your middle name?”

  I looked at Emma apologetically and said to Faith, “Please don’t quiz our guest.”

  “You always ask such personal questions, Faith,” added Alice.

  “Daddy says there’s no point beating about the bush. If you’ve got a question, ask it outright. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”

  Had he been here, I could imagine my dad finding this conversation hilarious. It was a bit of advice he’d given me when I was a child.

  Mum jumped in and tried to help. “Asking direct questions is fine if you grow up and become a detective, Faith. Until then, such direct questions, to someone you barely know, can seem a little impolite. It’s lovely you’re so inquisitive, but maybe try asking a question that’s a little less direct.”

  “It’s fine,” said Emma. “Honestly, I don’t mind.” Emma gave Faith a warm smile.

  Faith thought about her questions and tried again. “Are you divorced? Is that why you’re not wearing a wedding ring?”

  Emma started laughing.

  Monica gave Faith a wide-eyed look of disbelief and said, “Faith, what are we going to do with you?”

  Still laughing, Emma said, “No, I’m not married. I was engaged for a while, but that didn’t work out.” She looked at me in a way that said she was okay.

  There was a bit of awkward silence between the adults for a split second before Faith continued, “Is it because you haven’t met Prince Charming yet? Monica says, ‘Men are beasts. You just need to find the least beastly one.’ Isn’t that right, Monica?”

  Now it was my turn in the firing line. “Is that right?” I said, looking between Monica and Faith and Alice. “So that’s what you’re all saying behind my back, is it?”