Fifty Two Weeks of Murder (20 page)

BOOK: Fifty Two Weeks of Murder
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Chapter 2

Anders arrived home late that evening, weary from the day’s work. They’d managed to transport the bodies back to the Hub for autopsy, the police van moving slowly through the crowd gathered at the Tower. The atmosphere among the throng of people was largely hostile, anger at the lack of progress but also anger at the police themselves as Buckland’s writings preyed on those who lacked purpose or direction, finding some meaning in his vitriol. The preliminary findings had yielded nothing useful. The lorry had been reported as stolen two weeks ago, the interior bleached clean and no useful evidence on the Vicar and his wife so far. It was frustrating that modern technology could only do so much if there was so little evidence.

As she closed the front door behind her, she heard the sounds of the TV, a flashing light sneaking out from under the door that led to the kitchen and living room area. She took off her boots and hung her jacket on the wall before opening the door. Cassie was curled up on the sofa, a large bowl of popcorn beside her as she hugged a pillow, her back to Anders as she faced the large screen. Cassie was watching Ju On, a Japanese horror film and jumped as Anders gave her a greeting.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack!” she exclaimed. Anders smiled and caught some popcorn thrown at her in protest.

“Sorry,” she said in a tone that suggested she didn’t mean it. “How’s your day?”

“Not as bad as yours,” she replied. “News footage looked grim.” They talked briefly before Anders left her to the film and made her way to the bathroom. As she passed Aaron’s door, he called her name, his voice coming through the narrow gap Cassie had left.

“Bumble?” he said sleepily. Anders pushed the door open and crept in as Aaron sat up groggily.

“You should be asleep,” admonished Anders as she sat next to him on the bed.

“I wasn’t tired,” he said, rubbing his eyes in tiredness.

“How was school?” Aaron shrugged and leaned into Anders, finding comfort in her embrace.

“It was ok. We have to make a Roman fort for our project.”

“Wow. That sounds cool. You wanna build it this weekend?” Aaron nodded. Anders sensed he wanted to say something, so gave him time to find the right words. After she had rescued him, he’d clung to her tightly, never letting her out of his sight for more than a few moments, but it had taken months before he spoke to anyone other than Cassie.

“Why is that man paying people to hurt other people?” he asked. Anders stroked his hair softly as she answered.

“He’s not very well. Sometimes, when folks are not well, they do things they don’t realise cause a lot of hurt.

“Like my dad did?” Anders winced inwardly at that but gave him a gentle smile

“I guess. Did you want to talk about your dad?” He shook his head.

“Not really. Are you going to catch the bad man?”

“I hope so,” replied Anders. Aaron’s response caught her off guard and she fought to control her emotions as he spoke.

“Will you do to him what you did to my dad?” he asked. 

“No, honey,” she said, keeping her voice low and soft. “What I did was wrong too.” Aaron stared at her for a long time. Eventually he spoke.

“He deserves it,” he said, anger making his voice harsh. In that moment, Anders knew that she was failing him. She wanted to show him a life filled with love and happiness. One where he could feel safe, away from anyone who knew him and what he had endured. Abi’s words from earlier that day came unbidden to her mind and she pushed them away. Aaron would be the product of his environment, and that environment would be a happy, loving one, filled with affection. She kissed the top of his head and had him lie down so she could read some more of The Hobbit to him. By the time she had finished the first page of her chapter, Aaron was fast asleep.

A minute later, she walked into the kitchen and poured a glass of red wine, topping it up a little more as she brooded over what she could do to help Aaron. She poured a glass for Cassie and passed it to her as she sat down on the sofa, Cassie moving the pillow aside so that she could cuddle up against Anders.

“This is the scariest film ever,” she said, scooping some more popcorn into her mouth. As the film progressed, they both became increasingly fearful, hiding behind their hands as the vengeful spirit took its revenge. Anders would happily face an angry mob and not flinch, but ghost stories always scared her silly.

Afterwards, Anders let Cassie go to bed, saying she’d tidy up. As she washed out the popcorn bowl and rinsed the glasses, her phone rang. Looking over, she saw that it was Mal.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said as soon as she answered it. “Meet me in the Hub.” He hung up leaving a bemused Anders to stare at her phone. With a sorrowful sigh at the thought of her bed going empty tonight, she grabbed the keys to her truck and headed out.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

Mal paced around the Hub with a restless energy. Barry and Jesse arrived first, having stopped nearby for drinks on the way home. As they exited the lift, Helen and Ben walked through from the forensics lab. They looked shattered and, as Anders came from the stairwell and saw how tired they were, she felt a pang of guilt that she hadn’t stayed longer, despite having had mere hours of sleep over the last few days.

Duncan and Abi were the last to arrive. Duncan had collected Abi on his way in and she had been unwilling to come to work unless she looked pristine and smart. Duncan was his usual crumpled self, though his appearance hid a mind as sharp as his sister. Mal ushered them to their seats and they looked expectantly at him, none particularly pleased to be there. The Hub had become a claustrophobic pit of humanity as McDowell poured more resources into finding Buckland. Now it was quiet, sullen almost, as if the Hub resented the mess and clutter the extra people left behind.

“Thank you all for coming back here,” said Mal, his voice quiet as if he didn’t want to be overheard. “I know we’re all tired and in need of some sleep.” Jesse rapped his knuckles on the desk in agreement.

“Staying this handsome takes effort and no small amount of sleep,” he said. “I’ve not been on a date for a week!” Barry gave him a sombre stare.

“You can shut right up. I’ve not been on a date for three months.” Helen gave him a gentle pat on the arm.

“Bless,” she said, giving him a cheeky wink. “You can take me out any time.” Barry had the grace to blush and Mal gave an irritated sigh.

“On task folks,” he said, wanting to get things moving. “Sanders has gone. We’ve no idea if Buckland made contact or if he simply realised he was being tailed and slipped the net.” He hesitated, suddenly nervous. “I’ve only asked you guys here because we can’t afford this leaking out, but I want to stage an entry to the competition.”

A stunned silence washed over the group as Mal stared at them expectantly. Abi stood up suddenly, her cheeks colouring in anger.

“No. Absolutely not. How could you even think of such a thing?” Mal wrung his hands in despair, his frustration obvious. Before he could answer, Duncan spoke.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not legal, but if you get a Magistrate, preferably a High Court Judge to sign off on it, then I’m in.” Abi gave him a stunned look, clearly feeling betrayed by her brother. She turned back to Mal.

“First you lose Sanders after knowing he’d committed the most heinous of crimes and you want to compound this by, what? Digging up some corpses, stealing from a morgue? When did you become so amoral?” Mal, clearly stung by her words, stepped closer, his voice raising to match Abi’s.

“When a madman started killing people and inciting others to do the same. Almost four hundred people around the world are dead because of him and we’re sitting here helpless to find wherever the Hell he is.” Abi jabbed a finger at his chest.

“We cannot stoop to his level. The cost we’d pay and the families of those bodies you’d set up does not weigh less than all those poor souls. The law is clear on this.”

“So if a Magistrate signs it off, then the law is on our side, which makes it moral. That okay for you?”

“Don’t patronise me.” Abi and Mal glowered at each other, the rest of the group too shocked at the sudden outburst between two old friends.

“I can do it,” said a voice in the silence. Everyone turned to Ben who looked nervous at the sudden attention. “My old professor can supply me with the bodies. Donated to science. Medical students use them. I can make sure they have no families.” Abi deflated at that. She knew that once the practicalities of something was discussed, then reasoning was left behind. She walked away and left quietly as the group turned to Ben. Helen put a maternal arm around him.

“We’ll both do it, but we’ll need the Man Mountain to help us move the bodies.” Barry grunted his assent and made to stand. Mal clapped his hands together in delight, pleased to finally be able to do something proactive rather than react to Buckland’s killings or try and find his whereabouts in a mass of paperwork and computers.

“Excellent. I’ll call McDowell, tell him to go wake a judge.” Anders stood up as well, a grin on her face.

“I’m coming too. I have an idea.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4

While Barry signed out two vehicles, Anders went through her plan. Jesse shook his head and Duncan paled slightly but gave her an impressed look.

“You’re twisted,” he said. “Call us when you’re done and we’ll start the investigation, make sure it all looks official.” They left quickly, Anders and Helen in one vehicle and Barry taking an excited Ben to Oxford to wake up his old professor.

Anders tore down the empty streets in the requisitioned Ford Focus, her mind still adjusting to driving on the left. The hour was late and the traffic had thinned to a level where Anders could actually hit third gear. Helen spoke to Jesse on the phone as he guided them to an abattoir in Surrey that would have what they needed. She hung up once they were in the right direction and Helen settled down into the seat, her head resting on the seatbelt.

“Bet you thought you’d have the quiet life coming to work in Britain,” she said, turning the radio on and finding a channel with music she liked.

“I never was any good at standing still,” replied Anders, her eyes focused on the road ahead. “I get bored too easily.”

“So why did you come over here then? You said you had no real family left in London.”

“I guess it’s where I was born. After I made the news in the States, it became harder to do my job effectively. The Director wanted me to take a sabbatical, come back when the fuss had died down, but I quit and came home.”

“You think you’ll ever go back?” Anders was silent for a long time. So much so that Helen thought she hadn’t heard.

“Maybe,” she eventually said. “I do miss it sometimes and I know Cassie and Aaron do, but for now, this is the right thing. My skillset means I’ll always have work in America if I go back.” Helen chortled quietly.

“We were all pretty intimidated by your file,” she said. “Jesse kept reading out sections in his big dramatic voice, mostly to piss Duncan and Lucy off. Left here.” She indicated a turning from the A3 and led them away from the city lights to the countryside, Anders seeing stars for the first time in months as the glow from London ebbed and flowed truculently behind them. Anders felt it a brooding presence in the rear view mirror as if recent events had sullied the old city.

“How about now?” asked Anders. “Having met me, I hope you’re not intimidated anymore.” Helen leaned over and patted her leg.

“Oh, now that we’ve met you, we’re more intimidated than ever, but the file didn’t mention that you’re a real sweetheart, so that’s okay. When you’re not cutting people open to grab their arteries or taking on sword wielding maniacs. Then you’re just plain scary.”

“Thanks!” Anders feigned hurt as Helen ribbed her some more, laughter filling the car. The conversation eventually turned to Helen’s favourite topic. Men.

“So tell me about you and Mal,” she asked in her typically blunt fashion. “How was your date last week?” Anders gave her a back handed slap on the arm.

“That’s for listening in by the way,” she said. “Anyways, I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

“So you did kiss!” Anders rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Nope! We had one of those awkward moments where he went to hug me and I went to kiss. Ended up doing neither.”

“Ah,” said Helen, knowingly. “A kug. We’ve all suffered them love. So when are you seeing him again?” Anders flicked the indicator on and turned into an abattoir, the headlights from the unmarked car showing a large barn with a glowing light coming from large metal doors, barred shut. Anders parked next to a battered animal transport lorry and killed the lights.

“We’ve not really had much time to talk about it. He wants to go out Saturday night, but we’ll see. It’s not as if we have much free time at the moment.” Helen waved an admonishing finger as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door.

“Always time for love hun, always time.” Anders gave her a cheeky grin.

“What if it’s not love I’m after?” she asked innocently. Helen smiled back.

“Then there’s definitely time for that!” she said, striding up to the door and banging loudly on it.

They were greeted by two men, both wearing blood stained overalls and shoulder length gloves. Both were pleased to help out these two pretty women and happily sold them three pigs off the books. They were a little intrigued by their request to use the saw and be left alone, but they acquiesced. Helen was charming and flirtatious, Anders quiet and mysterious. The men were quite smitten.

Their work done, Anders and Helen had the men drag large sacks of their work into the boot of the car. They waved farewell and divvied up the cash Anders had given them, delighted at their unexpected bounty.

As they drove back to London, Helen put Barry on loudspeaker.

“How you getting on big man?” she asked. Barry’s deep voice boomed through the speaker.

“Got three of the finest in the boot. Ben’s professor was happy to help and promised to keep his mouth shut if Ben helped him out with a paper he was working on. Fair deal all round.”

“On your way back, get some straw,” called Anders. She could sense the confusion over the phone line.

“Where am I going to get straw?” asked Barry.

“You’re in Oxford,” replied Helen. “Find a field and go steal some from the horses!” She hung up and turned to Anders.

“Now then, don’t think you’re getting off the hook that easily. You and Mal. I want all the juicy details.” Anders gave a theatrical sigh.

“Tit for tat. You tell me about your latest beau and I’ll tell you about mine.”

“Sold to the woman in black,” said Helen and they spent the rest of the journey happily chatting away about nonsense. It was good to talk about something other than murder and Helen was happy company, open and honest, but strong and forthright. The journey took an hour, but felt like minutes as they arrived at their destination.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Fifty Two Weeks of Murder
10.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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