Devil's Demise (11 page)

Mary, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, said kindly and slightly mischievously to Susan, “He’s a fine looking young man, isn’t he?” A wry smile covered her old and weathered face, warmth and kindness in her eyes.

Susan smiled back at her and told her, “Don’t be so naughty, Mary. He’s married and he’s just nice, nothing more than that, and anyway, he made me feel better. He made me think they may actually catch him and I trust him.”

“No, not him, the handsome physiotherapist, I saw the way he looked at you and you him.” Susan just smiled, gently twisted her hair and shook her head, breathing out heavily.

Marcus turned to Taylor in the car park, as they waved to the artist as she sped away in her car.

“This picture’s going to nail him you know! Because, if it’s as good as she said it is, then someone has to know where he is?”

“Let’s hope so. Hungry?” Taylor smiled, licking her lips.

“Starving!” he replied, “I don’t know why I ever ask you. You’re a gannet.”

They arrived back at the station, both guarding their pizzas from the prying eyes of those who were still on duty. Findlay waddled towards his office; Marcus looked up at Taylor, mirth in his eyes as he dived to shield his pizza completely from his overweight boss, hinting that he would be first to steal some to feed his greedy appetite. She laughed heartily too, a full on belly laugh, as she knew the greedy capabilities of fat Findlay and his over indulgence with food. Pizzas intact, they ate happily, more so because they knew Findlay’s belly would be rumbling with the mouth-watering aroma. The E-fit picture was safely in their folder. They’d show it to Findlay later, once every trace of the pizza was gone. They didn’t want any distractions, not with something so vitally important.

True enough, on showing Findlay the sketch, his face did actually crack a smile. They could almost see him thinking ahead to the solving of the case and all of the accolades that would wrongly come his way.

“Get this scanned immediately and run it by the Super. Then get it off to the press office with the instructions for disclosure. Pronto! Come on then! What are you both waiting for? Chop, chop!” he said in his usual condescending manner.

Taylor turned and left, barely acknowledging the rotund piggy eyed, Inspector. “Money wasted, that is. He’s such a useless prick. What do you think?” Marcus nodded in agreement and followed her through to the scanner, their short lived humour now totally subdued.

At that moment Kay came through the double doors and into the corridor. Taylor’s eyes met hers and both made polite greetings, although Taylor’s face turned slightly pink with hidden affection. There was an intensity in her eyes that her perceptive partner noticed straight away. Kay continued walking till she came to the next door. She turned her head and gave a backward glance that had unmistakeable affection in it.

Taylor looked at Marcus. She said, “Shut it you!” and smiled.

“You are, aren’t you, you lucky mare? You are one lucky lady. You’re like the cat that got the cream.”

Taylor looked at him, her eyes confirming his suspicion. “She
is hot, isn’t she? And you’re right, but it’s not for others’ ears.”

“How long? When? How? I thought she was straight.”

“So did I. It was after the last night out. She kissed me! And of course, being me, obviously I couldn’t resist.” A smile covered her whole face, a bit like a Cheshire cat. Marcus looked at her. This time he saw true affection in Taylor’s eyes, not the look he usually saw from the predatory womaniser.

“You really like her don’t you?”

“Yes, I do and it freaks me out a little because that makes me vulnerable. She can hurt me and distracts me every time is see her.”

“No wonder,” Marcus agreed, obviously very aware of just how attractive Kay was.

“Come on! We’ve got work to do. We can talk about things if you let me buy you a drink later.”

“You’re on but I’ll have to phone my wife to let her know.”

“Hey, you never know. I might have to start phoning home and explaining myself too one day.”

Marcus rolled his eyes at her and went to his desk. “That’ll be the day!”

John sat at home staring at the drum in the kitchen, the portable telly chatting away to itself in the corner. The news was on and his escapades might feature. His head tilted as he listened. Blah, blah, blah, the reporter went on and on about Afghanistan. Eventually, the third item of news was about the general investigation in to the two murders in the city and the progress being made,
or not
, he thought. The mundane report ended with a headline: POSITIVE NEW LEAD. The news reader stated that it could change the direction of the whole enquiry, which could only speed up their progress, although details could not be revealed at this time.

John immediately stood up and punched the wall three times in quick succession. The plaster buckled beneath the force. “FUCKING BITCH,” he shouted. He went to the bathroom and took a quick shower, shaved and put on an old set of blue
overalls
and headed out using a back route to the hospital. He was careful to park his car, a good distance from where it could be picked up on any of the CCTV cameras.

He had a tool bag with him and wore a plastic badge with maintenance operator embossed on it. He went to the rear of the hospital
to the staff smoking area, lit a cigarette and waited patiently until someone else came to join him. He didn’t have to wait that long. A nurse came out, shook her lighter and spoke to him, “God I need this one, what a day it’s been.”

He didn’t answer; he just stared right at her coldly. She looked up at him; he just kept staring at her. Her blood ran cold as she looked back into the eyes of a mad man. A feeling of nausea rose up in her instantly as she recognised the eyes, eyes that she had seen less than two hours before on a piece of paper shown to staff prior to them leaving. John had not intended to start the night with such pleasure but he had clocked the fact her demeanour had changed and she had become uncomfortable in his presence. The first blow came down on Ann’s temple with such power it knocked her to the ground, smashing two teeth as her face hit the concrete with the force of a sledge hammer. The second blow came from his boot, which crashed down onto the back of her head, forcing her face into the ground once again. She lay there, still. He took her entry key and, heaving her body unceremoniously onto his shoulders, opened up one of the industrial bins and threw her in. Her lifeless body lay discarded along with the rubbish. He moved some bin bags on top of her to cover her up and slammed it shut, concealing her inside. He could not hide his pleasure as he entered the ground floor of the hospital, a smirk etched on his evil face.

He walked through the corridors with confidence, a cap on his head, which matched the colour of the overall he was wearing. He did not look out of place at all. He looked around in each corridor checking for cameras and selected the routes with none, or with a little careful evasion required if there was no other option. He could pass without his face being caught fully as the brow of his cap covered a good portion of his face from the cameras above. Not one person checked him out or even gave him the time of day.
Ignorant bastards
, he thought to himself,
serves them right for being above it all.

Emily looked at her watch. Susan was at the physio and Ann was really milking her time for her ciggy break tonight, although there was never any issue with Ann’s time keeping or work rate. They had a really good working relationship and Ann could have stopped to talk to someone as she was a real salt of the earth and loved a blether.

He walked through the corridors, painstakingly checking the names on every ward. He tried floor after floor but with no joy, and he certainly wasn’t going to ask anyone; he wasn’t that stupid. Eventually he walked past a small room, and there it was: Susan’s name, alongside Mary’s. No cops and no nurses, just an old dear sleeping in the corner. He went into the room; he was quiet, not wanting to disturb the woman in the corner. He desperately wanted Susan to know that he hasn’t finished with her yet. He took out his knife and sliced into her pillow. He cut his hand deliberately, letting his blood drip onto it, enough not to be missed. Mary’s eyes opened in the corner and she slowly focused on the large man standing over at Susan’s bed, but she quickly closed them again enough to pretend she was still asleep as he seemed to sense her gaze and looked up towards her. Her inner senses alarmed her, a prickling sensation of fear prevented her from breathing normally and she was very conscious he might notice this. He turned again and stared straight at her for longer this time. He wondered if the old woman had croaked it as she was ashen grey and appeared not to be breathing. The gap between her lashes allowed her to see him move in her direction, and a warm flow of urine escaped involuntarily from her, terror now etched clearly on her face. Her sharp intake of breath was loud and it rasped. She tried to scream as his huge hand engulfed her neck and gripped her round the throat. It only took seconds for her to pass out, which was enough for him to make good his escape without detection. He had no desire to kill her. She was ill enough already and did not pose him any real threat; he hoped that there was more pleasure to be gained elsewhere, and he knew she would enhance Susan’s fear when she recollected for her just who had been there. As he made his way through the hospital, he wondered where Susan could be. He looked at the many signs pointing out the various specialist areas and stopped at the sign pointing to the gym and physiotherapy department. His heart began to beat faster. The excitement of maybe seeing her again made his mouth salivate with anticipation; the taste of her, her scent and her fear, firmly etched on his mind. He made his way there, his stride long and full of purpose.

He turned the corner and came to an immediate halt; a tall policeman stood at the end of the corridor, blocking the doorway to the gym. The policeman looked up and saw the tall man at
the end of the corridor. He had noticed how quickly the man had stopped. His suspicious mind and the importance of the person he was there to protect made him move towards the man. Their eyes met; John’s were full of hate. The police officer got onto his radio straight away, realising something was not quite right. He kept watch and the man moved quickly out of sight. The cop called Andrew immediately and instructed him to lock the gym. The officer was torn with the decision to stay put or pursue the man, as he was certain he was there for something sinister and,
god knows
, he thought,
it might be the man we’re looking for
. He was assigned to protect Susan and if he left her, he could not be sure the man wouldn’t do a U-turn and come straight back to the unguarded room.

Susan’s mouth went dry instantly, her stomach twisted into a tight knot. Andrew had left her holding onto the bar as he made his way instantly to the door, slamming it shut, locking it and putting on the deadbolts. His heart was pounding too, right through his chest, as he knew what this meant: he was here! He went back to Susan and took hold of her hand and arm carefully but with a firm protective grip and gently assisted her over to the storage cupboard, scooping up a chair as he went, sweat beads now clearly visible on his head.

She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. “It’s him, isn’t it?” she said. Her hands were shaking as she buried her face in them.

He took hold of her shoulders, lifted her face and said to her in a calm and reassuring voice, “You’re safe here, he can’t get in. It might be something else, who knows? This is just a precaution. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He reached over for a metal weights bar as he spoke. “Just another wee precaution eh! Better safe than sorry. This bar could stop an ox.”

Susan looked at him, fully aware that he knew what was going on and he was trying to protect her from what was outside the door.

The cop ran to where the man had stood, and up the corridor to the stairs leading to the main building, his decision made that he had to pursue him. This might be their only chance. He was slower because of all of the gear that police have to wear; the vest alone, the cheapest available, was heavy and guaranteed to
let suspects get a head start. The cop chose to head in the direction of the exit as that was what he would have done if he was being pursued. As he ran, doctors and nurses stopped and stared at the police officer running past; only one pointed out the way in which the man had gone, the rest just stood there watching as if it wasn’t real and just an action scene on the television.

Outside the door, John ran over to a small fence, leapt over it effortlessly and into the trees. The cop wasn’t that far behind him.
Quite a fit guy
, John thought to himself.

The cop stopped in the doorway. “Alpha November 81 to control.”

“Go ahead,” the controller replied.

“He’s made his way into the wasteland to the rear of the Royal Infirmary. We’ll need dog sets to attend and the firearms officers here too ASAP. He’s probably armed and most definitely dangerous. He looks really strong.”

Once outside, the cop just stood there and stared into the trees; all he could see was darkness. He squinted his eyes to try and focus.

“Fuck, fuck!” he moaned aloud. Then he heard it. A soft groan came from the corner near the exit, over beside the industrial bins.

The hair on the back of his neck bristled. He had to give himself a shake to control the blood rushing through him. He wasn’t easily spooked but he felt like he was being watched and there was something close to him, something very much alive. At that moment his radio crackled loudly and startling the life right out of him.

“Shit! I wished they wouldn’t do that.”

“Fire arms off at the front entrance, where do you want us?” came boldly over the radio.

“Rear exit on the south side, over.”

“Help me,” a female voice whispered. The cop spun round, his mouth now totally dry, all of his saliva gone. His heart raced as he looked slowly round. He turned to where the bins stood and tentatively walked forward, calling towards them, every nerve in his body tingling as the adrenaline in his system went out of control.

“Is there anyone there?” he said quietly, almost afraid to be heard; he could not believe how spooked he was.
Fuck sake, pull yourself together man
, he thought to himself. Just at that moment
he heard a loud crack not too far away from him, in the woods. He turned back and stared straight towards the noise and saw a dark shadow move off at pace further into the trees, northwards.

“He’s been fucking watching me, the fucking warped creep,” he muttered to himself.

“Help me! Please, please help,” the voice came again, slightly louder this time.

He was caught in the middle of a critical choice he did not want to make: Pursue the devil’s offspring? Or see what was calling out to him? He was a little unsure of either option. He looked into the woods, gave a loud sigh and turned to the big bins. Tentatively he opened them up one by one to see what was there, unnerved at how desolate it was at the back of the hospital. The firearms boys had arrived and he pointed to the woods, telling them the suspect hadn’t left the vicinity much more than a minute ago.

The cop opened the last bin closest to the hospital and looked down into it. His heart skipped a beat. Initially, he couldn’t see anything but when he moved some bags his eyes could not believe what they were seeing - a woman’s face buried in trash, soaked with blood, eyes staring pleadingly up at him to help. All he could see was bright, blue eyes buried in a sea of red, reminding him of the film Carrie, when pig’s blood was poured over her at the end. The woman was wearing a nurse’s uniform, she was clearly in a bad way and he thrust himself over the ledge and climbed down to be beside her while calling for an ambulance over his radio. Ann gripped onto his vest with her quivering hand, making sure he didn’t leave her, her eyes silently pleading for help, her face disfigured by John’s brutal assault.

“What happened to you? Who did this?” Not really thinking, not putting two and two together, the cop failed to connect that the man he was pursuing was responsible.