Devil's Demise (10 page)

Marcus got on the phone to get the Scenes Of Crime Unit down to put up their tents and comb the area for every little piece of forensic evidence that may have been left at the dump site. The search teams were redeployed to the outer peripheries of the area to carry out further searches until the body was examined, extracted and all of the evidence photographed and lifted.

The corpse was remarkably well preserved due to the peat like earth it had been found in. This appeared to have created a natural refrigerator and had kept certain elements viable for examination and only once exposed did the infestation of maggots begin. Blood was extracted from remaining veins and urine from the bladder. Marcus grimaced as the needle pierced the deflated eyeball to take what vitreous fluid remained; he started to rub his own eyes as if the needle had gone into one of his. Taylor looked at him, her own stomach queasy with the sight before her. The blade making the Y-incision on the corpse’s chest cut cleanly through the flesh. The crunch of the rib spreaders sent shivers to their bones, the stench of the exposed inner organs enough to make anyone feel sick. The pathologist took out all of the internal organs that were still intact in turn, cutting, slicing, weighing and examining them for any abnormalities; some of them were more decomposed than others. Then to the genitalia, her vagina and rectum were very much intact with very little decomposition. He swabbed them for signs of sexual violation, although the tears on the anus and visible trauma to the vagina left little doubt that she had been brutally tormented. Some were
recent and others historical. Portions of the outer flesh on her back showed quite clearly that there were bits of skin torn away with tooth imprints apparent.

Taylor pointed to them and said, “DNA, will it still be viable? He must have had his mouth there.”

The pathologist looked up at her and said, “I would say so. DNA is very durable and whoever did this didn’t try to cover up anything. The internal swabs show sexual activity to the naked eye, before we’ve even tested them. We’ll rush through the results and have a profile for you within a day or two. I take it the boss will make this a hurry up job, with the highest of high signatures, to give this a priority ride through the system, because we are really backed up at the moment.”

“You guessed it. The Chief Constable is on this one and his head will be on the block for results. This is the biggest thing to hit Edinburgh for years and although we could almost recreate this guy with all we’ve collected on him, we’re not doing too well on the catching him front.”

Hours later, they returned to the office where they found confirmation of the identity of the corpse; it was Layla Petrovsky, the missing prostitute. “Fuck me that was fast, even for our lot. Now we just have to see who the culprit was, not that we have any doubt who it’s going to be.”

“She was obviously his first and he enjoyed it, enough to take it up as a career.”

Kay walked out of Findlay’s office; her skin almost visibly crawling from his unwanted attention. Taylor’s face turned red and it was not with desire. An inner rage rumbled inside her. She stood up and was about to make her way across the room when Marcus took her wrist. “Don’t! She’s a big girl and she can handle him. Anyway what’s it to do with you anyway, lady? Just remember this is a disciplined organisation and even though he is a fat prick and an overt sleazeball, he can still put the boot in and screw with your career, so let her fight her own battles. And if you’re with her, that just gives him all the ammunition he needs to put you in a box out in the wilderness. And, have you forgotten that this is still very much a boys’ club and you’re halving their odds of getting laid?”

Kay looked over at Taylor, aware of the reaction she had stirred. She smiled at her and made a gesture of repulsion in
the direction of Findlay’s office to let Taylor know things were alright. She looked tired, everyone did. Taylor smiled back, so did Marcus and Taylor slapped his shoulder as she saw Kay turn away quickly, obviously feeling exposed at someone else sharing their glances. Investigations like this always took a lot out of everyone. They barely saw their homes and families as the demands placed on them were pretty heavy going but the pay was good, not that there was ever any time to spend it.

Findlay came out of his office, coffee stains on his tie and shirt. “Fucking slob,” Taylor exclaimed. Marcus was on the phone to his wife making excuses for his inability to return home any time soon.

“Hey, I need to make up a press release for the boss,” Findlay barked. “You two can get on with that just now and try and not cause too much fear and alarm in the city. Tone it down as much as you can!”

The minute he was gone Taylor slammed her hands down on the desk, pens and paper flying everywhere. “That lazy fat glory grabbing fucker. Why can’t he do his own fucking work? Why the fuck should we have to do it? We’ve worked our fucking asses off for days and he’s just climbed on the band wagon and taken all the bloody credit.”

Findlay turned round and said, “Oh and good work with the follow up on the missing persons. That’s what’s got us this far. Keep going on that line of enquiry. I think there may be more so once you’ve finished the press release you can carry on with that.”

Marcus acknowledged Findlay before he returned to the office but Taylor couldn’t even look up at the Inspector for his lack of respect for her position and her rank. Although still a lowly Detective Sergeant, he should give her the courtesy she deserved. She was a very thorough worker and usually got great results.

Taylor headed to the ladies’ toilet, unaware that Kay was already there getting ready to head home. She got to the mirrored area and stared at her reflection. She dropped her head and yelled out, not concealing her rage at all, the frustration making her furious. She heard footsteps behind her and felt a little embarrassed at her open outburst until she felt an arm closing round her waist. Taylor was about to turn and push whoever it was away when she felt a warm mouth close round her ear. She looked up in the mirror to see Kay smiling back at her.

“Don’t let that sleazy creep get to you, he does it to every living, breathing female. I’m nothing special, but you are.” She leant forward and placed a tender kiss on Taylor’s soft lips. Taylor looked at her, anger turning quickly to warmth. She was about to kiss her back when the door opened and two PCs came in chattering. They dumped their belt kits on the floor as they headed to the cubicles, barely glancing up at the two women at the mirrors, totally unaware of what was going on as they passed by muttered an acknowledgement, “Serg.”

Kay squeezed her hand and said, “I’m off home. Call if you want to or need to. Take care and don’t let him make you work too long.” They sneaked a silent but passionate kiss and Kay walked confidently to the door and glanced back, smiling as she left. Taylor rested her bottom on the shelf where the sinks were set and leant there, thinking. Her phone beeped. It was a message from Marcus: “It’s been confirmed. His DNA is all over her. How many more do you think he’s killed?”

“The bastard; the fucking hideous, dirty bastard.” Taylor’s head shook with disgust.

Susan winced as she attempted to walk with her sticks. Andrew gently held onto her arm as she looked like she was about to fall to the side but she steadied herself and thanked Andy anyway. He reassured her and told her how well she was doing and that her progress was better than expected. She made her way to a chair in the corner and plonked herself down, unable to support her own weight like she used to. Tears welled in her eyes, her exasperation showing as well as the fear that she wouldn’t be able to live a normal life ever again. Her youth and her physical ability had been stolen from her in one fateful evening, her fear of tomorrow marring every single day since then and his face constantly intruding on every peaceful moment.

The physiotherapy room was well kitted out and all the equipment was state of the art. Numerous physiotherapists were assigned there. They were specially trained to deal with every physical disability imaginable and the various methods of rehabilitation utilised to get injured joints and muscles back in working order again. Andrew was one of the hospital’s most experienced and enthusiastic physios, who still treated every patient as a personal challenge. He still genuinely cared; his work was not
just a job to him. He felt very strongly for Susan. She inspired him with her positivity and fighting spirit after what had happened to her.

Susan was still in hospital - her recovery was slow as her injuries required intense medical intervention and specialist help - but she was on track to make a recovery that would allow her to live a semi normal life. That didn’t bother Susan. She was just terrified in case he revisited her; she was apprehensive about going home and felt safer in hospital because there were people all around her, which gave her comfort and reassurance. But was she really safe?

Susan was sitting in her four-bedded ward, although she only had one room mate - an elderly woman, Mary, who was admitted after a fall. Mary had a broken hip and ankle but was very kind and still very much with it, regularly chatting with Susan about their beloved cats, Baxter and Hobbes; both were being looked after by relatives until their faithful owners recovered. Susan leant back to rest for a moment, relaxing as she listened to the birds that sang just outside their window. Quickly, she drifted off to sleep, a place where she used to find solace, warmth and relaxation. Now her dreams were invaded with his face, his dark eyes and sinister voice that coldly taunted her. She could smell him. She feared him and every injury that he had inflicted upon her seemed to open up and tingle with pain as he crept into her thoughts, a constant reoccurring torture. She started to toss and turn, each move more animated than the other. Sweat covered her body, her nightdress stuck to her and she let out a loud scream as the blade plunged deep into her once again, her scars aching as if the assault was still happening to her for real, all over again. Two nurses came rushing in. Emily was a third year student and Ann the sister on the ward; each took a side and tried to soothe her. Susan’s arms were flailing, trying to fight off her invisible attacker. Emily took her arm and spoke gently into her ear, trying to comfort her and bring her out of her nightmare. Ann took a tighter grip of her other hand as she had been around long enough to know how much damage one of those loose arms could cause and it certainly wouldn’t be the first black eye she’d had from a patient. Susan was still obviously distressed, her breathing heavy and erratic as her eyes opened, wide and petrified like an animal about to be slain.

“You’re okay Susan. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream. You’re safe. We’re here; we won’t let anything happen to you, I promise!” Emily said as she comforted Susan with her warm embrace.

Ann released her grip and also spoke softly to her. “Same nightmare dear? We’ll have to try and do something about that you know - hypnosis or something. We’re going to stop him ruining your life once and for all!”

Susan turned her head slowly towards Ann, a pitiful smile appearing as she squeezed her hand in response to the strong words. “I won’t ever be safe if he is still alive, will I? I’m the biggest mistake he’s ever made and his biggest threat. I saw him, I fucking saw him!” she yelled at the top of her voice. “He knows that, and I can feel his hatred running right through me every day. I am the only one that can identify him so what does that make me, eh? Yes, you’re right, a sitting duck. The police can’t be with me 24/7 can they, and they aren’t making much headway in catching him at the moment!”

Ann shook her head in sympathy and acknowledgement. Susan was right on every count and to lie to her now would be condescending, which Ann was not prepared to be.

Emily squeezed her shoulder and gave one of her infectious cheeky grins. She said, “As long as we’re here, you know he’ll have a fight on his hands. There’s more of us than him and women are full of surprises as we well know. We can also fight dirty.”

“You’re a survivor, believe it. You lived for a reason, and there are thousands of people out there wishing you well and commenting on your bravery,” Ann stated as she squeezed the life out of a pillow, obviously simulating what she would do to Susan’s attacker if she got the chance. Ann looked over to the other side of the room. Mary’s face was a picture. She had rung the emergency alarm and had given a feeble shout for someone to help but Susan’s screams had alerted the staff a little quicker.

Ann asked if Mary was okay. She nodded and looked sad as she said, “I wish I could help her more. I can’t even get out of bed to comfort her, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Ann said. “You just being here to listen and talk to is good for her and she likes you. Can I get you anything?”

“A gun!” Mary replied with a wry smile.

Susan heard this and she too agreed. They all had a laugh, and tried to think of better things, their humour a tonic for Susan.

Just then there was a chap at the door. Susan, Mary and the two nurses looked up to see DS Nicks poking her head round the door, quickly followed by DC Black and another woman with a sketch pad. “I hope we’re not intruding and that you got the message I left saying we were coming today.” Both detectives could see that they had come at a less than favourable time and that Susan looked a little worse for wear.

“Yes, I got the message,” she sighed, “but I don’t know how much help I can be. I’m trying my best to put him out of my mind and, as you can see from the state of me, I’m failing miserably!”

Ann smiled at Susan and led Taylor out of the room. Taylor asked what had happened, and the sister explained about the recurring nightmares and the stress Susan was still under, both with her physical recovery and mentally. Taylor gave a sincerely sympathetic look and said, “She’s our best hope though. We have DNA coming out of our ears but he’s not on any of our databases, and she can identify him; it’s crucial that we do this. We need to stop him before he does it again!”

Ann looked down and said, “I know, that’s why she’s so worried but it’s so hard for her just now. He’s still haunting her, terrorising her from within, and she says she can feel his hatred. Pretty spooky, huh?”

Taylor went back to the ward. Susan was sitting up speaking to Marcus and the artist that was going to compile an E-fit for the next episode of Crimewatch, to be aired within the week. Taylor pulled over a chair, the feet scraping on the floor with a dull screech. Everyone looked up at her with painful grimaces on their faces. Taylor’s face went a little red and she politely apologised to them for her interruption. She introduced herself to Susan and made sure a full explanation was given to her about what was about to happen and how the sketches would be utilised. Taylor’s eyes met with Susan’s; Susan’s were pleading for help and reassurance and Taylor’s longing to solve the case, to stop this monster killing another innocent woman. From that meeting of minds there was a silent trust created. Susan could tell Taylor was a strong woman, unafraid and confident and 100% committed to catching him and putting him behind bars. She trusted Taylor to do her job.

Susan was trembling simply from the thought of describing the man who had ruined her life completely. Marcus calmly
reassured her, his words kind and strong, his eyes honest and protective. Susan said softly, “I don’t know where to start. I don’t want to remember him, it makes him too real.” The sketcher told her to take her time and start with the feature uppermost in her mind. Instantly she remembered his eyes, his piercing evil eyes, and she started to visibly shake.

“Piercing bright blue, the whites showing the full way round, dark thick eyebrows, straight nose, unclean teeth, stubble with a thick jaw line and foul breath and a creepy countenance.” The sketcher joked that the breath would be a little difficult to draw and Susan smiled too, though the pain she was obviously in was uncomfortable to watch; terror churned inside her as the picture began to form on the paper. She carried on. “He was tall, over six foot two, and he had huge powerful hands and his arms were strong and muscular, especially his forearms. His body didn’t match his arms though. His stomach was not taut and a lot more slovenly. He had a paunch and it showed over his trousers.”

“Sorry, Susan, just keep to his face for the sketch. We’ll get to the rest of him later. What about his hair?”

“Sorry, dark shortish hair, dishevelled, unkempt and unwashed. It smelt foul, just like the rest of him!”

Susan went on to describe every minute detail. She could remember everything. It was all flooding back to her. She was starting to speak more quickly and getting stressed. It was Marcus who noticed that she was almost slipping back to the night she was attacked. He didn’t want her to feel that way. He put his hand on her shoulder and said to her, “Stop! Don’t say anything else just now. Take a rest, breathe. Yup that’s right, just breathe, nice and slow.”

She had jumped back at his touch, freeing her from her
trance-like
stupor. The sketcher looked up and saw that the perfect details she was drawing were taking their toll physically on the poor woman. The sketcher had been so focused on the drawing that she had barely looked. Susan was now crying and her shoulders were shaking, moving up and down uncontrollably. Taylor gestured to the sketch artist to leave the room to let Marcus do what he was good at, genuine comfort.

Susan looked up and saw the warm and kind side that a man could have, the exact opposite of what she had just finished describing.

“I wish you could stick around here forever. I just feel frightened and alone all the time. You make me feel safe which I haven’t felt for so long.”

Marcus smiled at her, a warm sincere smile. Nothing false about him, just genuine emotion, a truly kind and honest man, strong and loyal. He struggled to answer her desperate request without hurting her feelings or making her even more insecure about the way she felt already.

He held her hand and looked at her straight in the eyes and said, “We promise to do everything in our power to catch this guy. It’s been sanctioned that you can have a cop here 24/7, which is practically unheard of within this penny pinching organisation, and Taylor and I won’t stop hunting your attacker until we have him behind bars or someone kills him.”

Susan smiled a little at the thought of his death, and said, “That would be nice. Then I could maybe sleep a little better.”

Marcus smiled too. He said, “There are rules though. Let’s not go breaking too many of them or we’ll all end up behind bars.”

Two cups of tea and a chocolate biscuit later, they resumed their drawing. Susan was now much calmer and her spirits seemed a lot better; she appeared more confident now, after spending some time with Taylor and Marcus. They explained all that they could and what they were allowed to divulge. It gave her a boost, knowing how much physical resources were going in to catching him and to protecting her. Taylor explained that once they had the drawing, and if it was anything like a true likeness, it would be shown on the news and on the next edition of Crimewatch, both of these programmes reaching out to a multitude of people and affording those who might know something a chance to come forward in total secrecy; every single lead would be followed up and referenced, with any other links creating even more follow up enquiries after that.

Half an hour later, Andrew the physiotherapist was passing and popped his head in. “I hope you’re remembering our appointment later today, young lady?” Susan looked up and smiled, her face flushed a little as Andrew looked straight at her.

“Did he see. Could he have been that perceptive?” Susan thought to herself. Marcus smiled at her. He had also spotted it, the slight flush in her face and the affection in her eyes towards the man that stood smiling in the doorway.

She spoke quietly back to Andrew, trying to play it cool. “Yes, I’ll be there. 7.30 pm, was it?”

“Don’t be late, we’ve got lots to get through, and bring your positive head.” He turned and left with a noticeable smile on his face too and an obvious spring in his step.

The sketcher added a final piece of shading round the eyes and looked up at Susan. “Are you ready for this?”

Susan took a deep breath, and said, “Yes, it’s now or never.”

Marcus took her hand as he could see that she was uncomfortable with having to look into the eyes of the monster once again. Susan’s eyes were wide and focused. She held her breath as the pad turned slowly round towards her. She gasped at the unmistakable face before her. The eyes were an exact copy of those of the killer; his mouth, his stare all captured almost identically, all done by the skill of the woman holding the pencil and pad.

“That’s him, that’s fucking him! It feels like he’s here in the room, I can’t look at it any more. Please take it away. It’s a perfect likeness to him. It’s hideously similar and I don’t want to look at him, if you don’t mind, sorry. Please take it away and do what you have to do, I can’t look at him anymore.”

“No problem, we’ve got what we need and we’ll keep in touch with any further developments,” Taylor said respectfully. The police and the sketch artist rose to their feet. They said their goodbyes and Marcus deliberately delayed just long enough to give Susan another reassuring smile before they went out of sight.