Death Marks (The Symbolist) (15 page)

BOOK: Death Marks (The Symbolist)
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Chapter 31

Redd slowed the car as they entered Mead Lane, he needed to get back to the office but he also wanted to have a few minutes with her. Tess must have read his thoughts, '
Look you can park in the drive. I expect you need a cup of tea or something stronger, I think Cognac is back on the menu.'

Redd swung the car round, parking just outside her garage, which looked like a miniature thatched cottage. 'Yep, only - I'm driving.'

Hearing furious barking at the front door, he winced; he'd forgotten about Sweetpea. Gathering his strength, he stood just a little behind Tess, as she unlocked the door, lifting the wrought iron latch. Sweetpea lightly bounced on his back legs doing a pirouette of joy before lunging past Tess to him. Two massive paws landed on his shoulders, whilst the Greater Swiss Mountain Dog licked his face with delirious abandon.

Tess laughed, catching hold of his studded collar and dragging him off. 'He really likes you. You know it's not often he licks someone as much as that. He must trust you.'

Getting out a tissue, Redd wiped the drool from his face. The serene old-fashioned aura of the cottage calmed him, the scent of the lavender border, and then the lime and wattle walls adorned with paintings of olde worlde cottages soothed his spirit, taking away the rawness of the mutilations.

He knew he would never forget. He knew there were nightmares to come; nightmares ran fast on the heels of trauma. Esther, laughing, holding Harry in her arms. Shaking his head, he fought the vision. No - not now. Cutting the thoughts, he turned to Tess, how would she deal with the horror of it all? Okay she studied the druids and was a druid, but he could see she had been unprepared for the real deal, for the abomination that faced her on the fallen leaves of Kingley Vale.

He watched her slim hips sway, as she walked through the tiny lounge, crossing to the cocktail cabinet. Pouring the cognac she said, 'Say when?'

'That's fine - thanks.'

She grinned. 'It's becoming a habit. I keep it usually for Tom.'

Redd felt his eyebrows raise. 'Tom?' She told him she was single, so where did that come from?

Seeing his quizzical expression, she explained, 'My sister's boyfriend on his last stay. He needed a drink. We'd just come back from the hospital. My sister was rushed into A & E - lymph glands.'

'How is she now?'

'Not good - not good.'

'Is she still working?'

'No, she was doing specialized ICU training at Providence Hospital, in Mobile - Alabama. Now she's being treated there. '

'I'm so sorry.' Seeing her distress, Redd changed the subject. 'So what was your impression of today?'

'Shocking. As I said Dan, I don't think they are going to stop.'

Redd nodded. 'I agree. Look I've got to get back, I've arranged for the investigating team to meet up at eight PM.' He was surprised at his reluctance to leave.

'Just before you go, here's the number for the Arch Druid of The Sussex Fellowship of the Ancient order of Druids - I know it's a mouthful. I belong to his Grove. I think it would be a good idea if you went to see him. He can give you a lot more information than I can. He is in contact with so many of the groups. Maybe someone somewhere heard something, you never know. I'll come with you if you like.

***

As he walked into the office, he saw a message from DS Williams. Picking up the phone, he dialled through. 'Redd here, what can I do for you?'

The detective sergeant's voice almost trembled, 'Sir, I've checked HOLMES whilst you were at the crime scene, West Yorkshire Police report another one. Two young people, male and female, the girl decapitated.'

'Christ. Same injuries?'

'Yes Sir, eviscerated, oh and a pile of bleached bones by their side. They don't go into much detail though.'

'Thanks Williams, good work. I'll get onto them. Have you searched Interpol for parallels?

'Yes sir, nothing to report as yet.'

'Stonehenge may be another target - keep an eye out for that. Okay, thanks Williams.'

Picking up the phone, he asked Michelle to put him through to DCI Babbings at the West Yorkshire Station.

He heard the thick Yorkshire accent of Babbings, the short vowels. 'Good afternoon Redd, happen as I was going to phone you meself. It's a rum do, a rum do. Not summat for a weak stomach.'

'I know, it's one of the worst cases I've encountered, your worst bloody nightmare.'

'Fucking true. Shoot the bastards on sight I would.'

'Look, I'll send you through a report of our victims' injuries, perhaps you could compare?'

'Aye I'll do that. Looks like we have a serial killer on our hands.'

Redd grunted, '
Beginning to look more like mass murder. Let's hope I'm wrong.'

'So how old were the victims? Twenty-one and twenty
—two, young woman missing her head.'

'Was a note left?'

'Aye, a scroll with a piece of rough old parchment; it had some strange markings on it. We got a professor from the local University to translate it for us. He says it's the Ogham, ancient language of the Trees, used in the Old Irish and Brythonic language, some say the Gauls. I've got it here, "The Oracle speaks". Load of nonsense - blood curdling though.'

Redd felt his stomach muscles tighten, they were getting somewhere. 'The notes left on the bodies here, also referred to the Oracle, but in a negative way. We've also got two missing people, just recently attained their degrees, as lab research technicians. Because of their occupations, there's a strong link. Have you any leads so far?'

'None, but our two were both lab researchers. From what you say about your vics, seems they're out to kill anyone to do with research labs.'

'Yeah -
it's looking that way. I'll send you through a report on what we have so far. Perhaps you could do likewise.'

'Be pleased to.'

As he put down the phone, Titmouse entered, the perpetual smirk on his florid face. As usual, he was immaculate with white shirt, silk tie and buttoned waistcoat despite the temperature being in the mid-seventies.

Pulling a chair towards Redd's desk, he sat down, straightening his jacket. 'So, I hear we have another murder on our hands. I've got ACC Mainwaring and DCC Maddeley, on my back. Seems even the local MP is calling for action. Wouldn't be surprised if the Prime Minister isn't next.' He paused sneering, 'I think it's time I put Seaton in - get things moving.'

Redd clenched his jaw, 'I'm acting on the instructions of DCC Maddeley, I report to him sir.'

'We'll see Redd, we'll see, so far you've got fuck all. As for that report from ... what do you call her? A Symbolist? Load of bollocks. We're dealing with a maniac - find him.'

 

Chapter 32

Dove sat in the back seat fuming. The ride to the Druid Lodge took over half an hour; she'd been looking forward to a cosy chat with Redd. Why in heaven's name did Tess have to come along and why the fuck was she sitting in her seat? It was a bit much after all; the woman was at the crime scene yesterday as well. Soon she'd be taking over.

Redd broke through her thoughts. 'One thing, before we get there, we should not discuss the state of the body we found yesterday. I understand the modern Druids follow a philosophy of peace and balance, revering nature.'

Dove said from the back, 'You mean save the planet - green peace.'

'In a way yes. They are also strong on the spiritual quest of man, exploring the inner nature and man's unity with all things.'

Tess felt a rush of warmth as she listened; he really had studied the modern day philosophy and respected it.

Dove commented, '
Thing is the world would collapse if we returned to nature. We can only evolve - find better ways of living - saving our planet.'

Tess murmured, 'I agree, world population is exploding - that creates huge problems - issues of birth control - freedom of choice.'

'The Chinese have tried,' Redd countered, 'With the one child families. But, let's get back to the Druids; what we have to keep in the forefront of our minds a rogue group are killing couples.'

Dove said, '
They're killing research assistants.'

Tess frowned. 'There are many activists against lab research.'

'Yes, particularly, genetics. Jeannette and Neil are primarily involved in that.'

Redd agreed,
'Something to keep in mind. But, paganism is becoming a force to contend with now church congregations are falling badly. We might be able to pick up some information on the more esoteric groups. We'll start with the neo-druids following up with the Wicca.'

Redd turned the car into a narrow country lane, the middle overgrown with grass. On either side, the grassy banks displayed an abundance of country flowers, the cowslips, towering over dandelions and daisies. On the left hand side stood wrought iron gates styled into twirling branches, and oak leaves, the face of some ancient man, with leaves and vines sprouting from his nose and mouth, with hair in long curls and waving beard positioned in the middle of each gate.

Tess said, 'The Green Man. See the sprouting vegetation? It's the blood sucker head- very gothic.'

Dove leant forward. 'I'll open the gates for you - save you getting out.'

Redd smiled his appreciation, watching her push open the gates. He said, 'She's a good partner. I wasn't too sure when I first met up with her, but now I couldn't do without her.'

'I don't think she's too happy I'm here.'

'Really? What makes you think that?'

'She's got the hots for you.'

Redd saw the remark as a question, taken aback, he said, 'Now that would complicate things. No - we're partners and that's where it begins and ends. No - there's only one - or was....'

He never finished, and Tess picking up the pain in his tone,
kept quiet.

Once seated back inside the car, Dove closed the door. 'I can see a mansion up ahead, it's quite a way though.'

Tess turned to Redd. 'You went off in a rush last time we met, so I didn't have time to tell you about the bones. Some sections of ancient Druids worshipped the ancestors, as well as the Gods. Maybe the bones are psychopomps.'

'What?'

'Psychopomps; they accompany the deceased to the Otherworld, or the land beyond the stars.'

'Never thought of that. But why bleach the bones?'

'As a mark of respect for the purity of the ancestors.'

'Something to think about, it's all so bloody convoluted. I just wish we knew where they've come from. We haven't received any complaints of graves being desecrated or dug up - it's a mystery.'

He drove slowly forward through the open gates. 'It's just a short way now, 'Hah now who's this - looks like he's dressed up as a shaman or something.'

Dove quipped. 'Weird.'

Tess's heart fell when she saw the young recruit. He'd only just joined the group, and to her dismay he was a bloody fanatic.

 

Chapter 33

Giving a rictus smile, Tess said, '
Hi there, err ... we have an appointment with Lugh. Want a lift?'

'Nah, just here to welcome you, the house is about five hundred yards on, in the dip. I'll follow later.'

As they drove on, Dove tapped Tess's shoulder. 'So - you know him?'

'Yes - he's a new Ovate at the Grove.'

'Oh?'

Dove remained silent in the back, her thoughts racing.

Reluctant to explain her involvement with the Druids, Tess said edgily, 'I'm a member - an Ovate.'

Dove frowned, no-one had taken the time to explain to her, for God's sake she was a prime partner in the case. 'So, why the secrecy?'

'It's personal.'

'That's no excuse.' Irritated, she blurted out the words, '
Boss, if Tess is intimately involved, she shouldn't be on the case. They'd throw this out of court.'

Tess turned abruptly, her tone sharp, '
Excuse me? What are you implying?'

'Surely you realize
—'

'Come on Dove - I've already spoken to the DCC.'

Scowling Dove argued, 'It's still flimsy.'

Tess said tersely, 'So if a detective's got a killer leaving crucifixes with the body, he can't be involved because he's a Christian?'

'That's taking a bit too far. Anyway, you could have mentioned—'

Annoyed, she said, '
Just quit now detective. It's personal. I don't want to discuss my beliefs with you, neither do I have to defend myself.'

'But
—'

Redd kept quiet, he didn't want to add fuel to the squabble. Tess was holding her own anyway.

Tess's eyes spat fire, as she looked at Dove. 'I don't want to talk about it. It's personal - private.'

Stunned, Dove sat speechless in the back, why was she so guilty about it all?

They drove in silence the rest of the way.

The house turned out to be a derelict mansion, graceful in its decrepitude. Parts of the turreted roofs on either side of the main building rose ragged against the sun, whilst the absence of many windows gave the place a soulless look.

A group of people of all ages, from a babe in arms to an elderly sage, gathered at the huge main doors, the dilapidated wood panels tied up with chains, looking like broken teeth in iron braces. Yet, the spirit of the people waving to them, more than made up for a backdrop of decay.

Surreptitiously locking the car with his remote, Redd took Tess's arm as they went up the cracked and broken steps. An elderly man with wild white hair, wielding a carved staff, strode purposefully towards them, dressed in grey trousers with a dark blue robe, pulled in at the waist with a leather belt hung with medallions of bronze. His cloak, held around his sloping shoulders, with a clasp of coloured glass, gave an Arthurian aura. To enhance the image of the Druid, across his forehead, he wore a band of thinly struck pewter embedded with semi-precious stones. In all, he exuded an air of ancient dignity and authority. He held Redd's hand in a firm grip; the skin hard and callused, his eyes, a sharp metallic grey. 'Welcome to our Grove. Come inside.'

Entering the main hall, they walked across diagonally placed tiles of black and white marble, typical of the druid style. The walls rose in panelled walls of mahogany, in places, rotting and covered in mildew. Heads of hind and boar rose gracefully from the side panels, their dusty fur patterned with rainbow hues from the coloured leaded light of the remaining windows.

Trunk size logs scented with apple, smouldered red with heaps of grey ash in a huge stone hearth, the grey stone lintel carved with flora and fauna, with figures of men kneeling in supplication of some Celtic God with horns. At the foot of stairs, reaching up into a double landing either side, stood the trunk of an oak tree from which emerged the carved figure of the Horned God, the antlers soaring some three feet from his face, benign in expression, his furred legs in repose, the hooves crossing. In one clawed hand, he held the lyre, in the other, the head of a man grimacing in pain.

Seeing the expression on Dove's face, Tess realized she thought it was some devilish symbol instead of it being one of balance, of peace contrasting with suffering. But then, she could think what she liked, it was not important to her.

Lugh the Arch Druid, motioned them to carved stone seats either side of the fire, a bundle of straw served as cushions. Wrapping his cloak around him, he sat in a throne-like chair of oak, the high-carved back sprouting gargoyles, leering like drunken angels over his shoulders.

Turning, he waved his hand at the group of people peering in at the door. As one, without a murmur, they melted away into sunlight. In a cultured voice, soft toned, he said, 'I am Lugh Roberts, Arch Druid. You come in difficult times. I hear there are atrocities done in the name of Druidism.'

Redd interrupted what could be an embarrassing situation. 'It was good of Tess to arrange this meeting, I am grateful.'

Lugh raised his hand. 'You know Chief Inspector; these gruesome killings cast a slur on the neo-druids. Sadly, to use the cliché - mud sticks.'

Redd nodded, 'I know ... but I just want to say, that I highly respect your philosophy and beliefs.'

Lugh looked at Tess, at the anguish in her eyes. 'Tess this has nothing to do with our Grove. You are a beacon of light in this sordid darkness. I have every faith we can help the Inspector.' Seeing the love in his eyes, Tess felt the tears stinging. He was the father she'd never had, the father she still yearned for. She felt his hand cover hers, felt the grief, the loneliness lessen.

'Yes ... I hate to see it besmirched like this. It's given me so much - helped me to....'

Redd realized this girl was hurting, hurting far more than he realized.

Tess felt the anger dissipating, she had to get a grip on herself, but the pain was never far away. Taking a deep breath she said, 'Okay - let's get on with this.'

 

BOOK: Death Marks (The Symbolist)
9.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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