Nothing but Meat: A dark, heart-stopping British crime thriller (22 page)

21

‘When’s West due back into work?’ asked Jung.

‘Not for a couple of days
yet,’ Simone said and looked up from her paperwork. ‘Jackson said West could
have as long as he needed. The funeral is tomorrow.’

‘No problem. How’s he
doing?’

She shrugged and tried to
look nonchalant; as if West was just a colleague. ‘As well as you’d expect,
considering.’

An officer put his head
around the office door. ‘I’ve got a missing persons report you might be
interested in.’

‘Go on.’

‘A couple of women came
in to report their friend missing. They’re still here if you want to see them.’

‘What do you know so
far?’

‘A white, forty-one year
old female that hasn’t been seen for three days. Her sister just reported it.
She thinks the woman was taken from her home.’

*

Simone and Jung went through the
preliminaries with both Natasha and Danielle as they tried to establish what
kind of person Sylvia Croucher was.

‘You said she was
recently bereaved? Even if it was out of character before that happened, do you
think it possible that she just needed some space and some time alone?’

‘She has dealt with her
life really well since Russ died. She was crushed, I know that, but she’s a
fighter my sister,’ said Natasha. ‘Always has been. She’s stronger than I’ll
ever be. I don’t believe for a second that she would have upped and left
without telling me or our parents.’

‘What about the house; you
said there were signs of a struggle?’

‘We told all of this to
the officers when we first got here about half an hour ago,’ said Danielle with
an impatient tone.

Natasha shot her a glance
and said, ‘Her car is still outside the house, her handbag has been kicked
across the floor, her bedside light has been knocked over and she’s not there.
What else do you want? Please help me find her.’

Jung drove Danielle home while Simone
and Natasha went to Sylvia’s house and entered it together.

‘From now on Natasha,’
Simone said gently to her, ‘please try not to touch anything.’

‘Okay.’

‘Show me where you think
she was taken from.’

Natasha lead Simone into
the master bedroom and it was just as she had described it. Simone stood and
looked at the scene and noted that Sylvia’s iPhone, purse and keys were amongst
the strewn contents of her handbag. She also saw that the curtains were still
pulled closed and wrote
‘taken at night?’
in her notebook.

She heard a vehicle pull
up outside and guessed it was either Jung or the forensics team were arriving.
She walked to the windows and nudged one of the curtains aside just to see who
had arrived. She looked down at the street below and many images hit her at
once. Firstly she saw the forensics van as it kicked up against the curb,
secondly she noticed that all the houses on the street were well spaced apart
and secluded by trees and thirdly, she noticed a single red rose lying on the
sill of Sylvia Croucher’ s bedroom window.

22

‘So it’s the same guy? As if I dare ask,’ said Jackson.

‘Definitely,’ said Simone. ‘Sylvia Croucher was taken from
her home in the middle of the night and he left a rose on her windowsill.’

‘Get hold of the forensics report as soon as it’s complete,
there’s a chance he made a mistake this time.’

‘Will do.’

‘What else do we have?’

‘We got a name and the contact details for one of the girls
that appeared in Stevens’ home movies, I’d like to have a chat with her, we
need to find out who this Sickman is,’ said Jung.

‘Sort it out. Go with him Simone.’

She looked at her watch. ‘I have to go with West to his
father’s funeral in a couple of hours but I’ll meet up with Jung as soon as
it’s done.’ She hated sounding like she was stalling the investigation but
there was no way she was going to miss the funeral.

‘Okay but I don’t have to remind you that we are against the
clock more than ever now and we need to keep moving forward if we want to be in
with a chance of saving Sylvia Croucher.’

‘Nobody wants to close this case more than I do,’ said
Simone, ‘but I promised West I’d be there for the service; it shouldn’t take
more than an hour.’

‘Okay, fine. Jung keep Simone updated if you get anything.’

‘Of course.’

‘Okay next.’ Jackson pulled a thick file from his desk. ‘DNA
and dental results matched the tooth that was put into June James’ pocket to an
old murder investigation – a student called Angela Baily was found in Bishop’s
Thorpe Wood in
nineteen eighty-eight,
she was strangled, found on her back,
legs together, arms by her side.

‘A German citizen called August Hirsch, was
arrested in Munich ten years later for a string of similar murders. He was
heavily linked to the Baily case but it was never proved.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘Serving life inside a German prison.’

‘What about Angela Baily’s face, did he
remove the skin?’

‘The MO was the same for all the victims,
they were all strangled, they were found face up, legs together, arms by their
side, and with their faces intact. August Hirsch was connected to the Baily
case, not only because Angela Baily held a striking similarity to the other
victims, but he was in England at the time, teaching languages in Cambridge.’

‘Why did it fall apart?’

‘There simply wasn’t enough evidence to
convict him.’

‘So what are we looking at here?’ said Jung.

‘The way Victoria Redman was found is almost
like a tribute to Hirsch,’ said Simone. ‘Did he have a partner?’

‘There’s no mention of one in the case
files,’ said Jackson.

‘Could it be coincidence?’

‘I don’t trust coincidence.’

‘It was what twenty-five years ago?’ said
Jung. ‘That’s a hell of a long time for a copycat or tribute killer come out of
the shadows. It’s also a long time for his partner – if he had one to be
dormant.’

Jackson said, ‘He may have been banged up
for something else, or plied his trade in another country.’

‘Or tried to stop and couldn’t,’ said
Simone. ‘Can we send our case file to the German authorities; maybe get them to
lean on him? He may admit to having a partner or maybe he’s been receiving fan
mail from someone with a mind just as twisted as his own.’

‘It’s worth a shot,’ said Jackson. ‘I’ll see
what I can do but in the meantime it’s just another piece of the puzzle and we
won’t get to the bottom of it until we catch our man.’

Jung gathered his stuff and made to leave.

‘Keep me posted if you get anything,’ said
Simone as he crossed the room.

‘You know I will. See you later.’

Simone checked her watch and knew she had time before the
funeral to try and resolve one of the many things that had been playing on her
mind.

She took the opportunity
to get Lucy’s attention from across the room. ‘Can we have a quick chat?’ she
said and invited her into her vacant office. Simone closed the door behind them
and leant against it to make sure no one else could come in.

‘What’s up?’ said Lucy.
She was smiling but her face was a mask.

‘To start with, I wanted
to thank you for letting me stay at your place,’ said Simone.

‘No problem.’

‘I really appreciate it.’

‘Why are you leaning on
the door like that Simone?’

‘I don’t want anyone to
disturb us.’

‘Okay, this is getting a
bit strange.’

‘You’ll appreciate it in
a minute. Take a seat.’

Lucy sat down; she looked
nervous but not confused.

‘Something has been bugging
me and I’ve got to say something.’

‘What?’

‘The study isn’t the best
place to leave uncashed cheques lying around while you have someone sleeping in
there.’

‘What do you mean?’ she
said but she knew where this was going and sounded like a ham actor.

‘Do you really want me to
say?’

Lucy swallowed. ‘No,
don’t say it.’

‘What if that maniac gets
away and keeps on killing because of something you told the press?’

‘I didn’t tell them
much.’

‘You told them enough for
the papers to sensationalise it, plus we looked like idiots at the press
conference.’

‘I never imagined
anything like that would happen.’

‘What was his name; that
reporter, the one that called West out?’

Lucy looked at her shoes.

‘I remember,’ said
Simone. ‘Shaun Franco. It was him wasn’t it?’

She nodded. ‘The money
was too good to turn down.’

‘I’m sure it was, but you
haven’t seen what that madman has done. I have and it’s fucking horrifying.’

‘What are you going to
do?’

‘I have a lot of shit
going on in my life right now and I don’t need any more. I just don’t have the
energy to make a big thing out of this.’

‘So you’re not going to
tell anyone?’

‘I’m not a squealer Lucy
and if I was, I’m simply too tired to say anything but please Lucy you have to
think.’

‘It was a one off I
promise.’

‘I hope that’s true
because I hate being in this situation and I hate what you’ve done.’

‘If it’s any consolation
I’ve been feeling shitty ever since.’

‘I bet you’ll still cash
the cheque though.’

‘It won’t happen again
Simone, you have my word.’

‘It better not Luce,
because I just can’t take anymore bullshit in my life.’

23

Simone
received a call from the station just moments before the service began. It was
the news they had been waiting for but it couldn’t have come at a worse time.

She was standing with West outside
the church waiting for his father’s coffin to arrive when she felt her phone
vibrate. She discreetly pulled it from her handbag and saw that the station was
calling but as she debated whether or not to answer it the screen went dark and
the call went to voicemail.

West noticed what she was doing and
she mouthed,
‘Station,’
to him as she
put her phone back into her bag. They both knew the call could be important but
Simone’s simple act of putting her phone away let him know that the next hour
was his.

Simone sat with West at the front of
the church while the vicar stood in front of his father’s coffin and calmly
delivered his eulogy. West hunched forward and stared into space, elbows on
thighs, fingers tightly laced. Simone didn’t mean to catch his attention when
she put her hand softly on the small of his back but when she did, he looked
around at her and gave a weak smile but it was little more than a token gesture
and did nothing to change the fact that she had never seen him look so sad and
lost. She summoned the most comforting smile she could muster and moved her
hand back to her lap.

The vicar looked tired and drawn as the service progressed;
and she thought that maybe he always looked that way but then she considered
how busy he must have been over the past few weeks. Sunday service, funerals
and christenings were a constant, but this was wedding season too. The vicar must
be a busy man at the moment.

Being in church reminded her of her wedding day and she
remembered how during the weeks leading up to the ceremony the vicar at the
time asked them to attend the Sunday service as part of their dedication to
each other. Simone used to go occasionally as a child but neither of them had
been for years and they had to admit that religion wasn’t a big part of their
lives. And now, sitting in church all those years later Simone considered
whether she and Martin would have had their children christened had they ever
got round to having them, but it was a redundant thought, they had never had
children and now they never would.

Martin pretended to be
keen on the idea and had frequently mentioned it, but she soon noticed that the
subject usually came up during his apologetic moments while she nursed her
bruises hours after one of their altercations and it was obvious to Simone that
Martin didn’t really want kids; he was too selfish to change his life and the
upheaval of a child would have been too damaging to the world he had created
for himself.

Simone knew his motives
for wanting children were not borne from the need to procreate, Martin was too
selfish and devious and saw children as a way of projecting the image of
normality to the outside world while at the same time tying the pair of them
together forever. Sometimes she feared getting pregnant for that very reason;
if she did he would be forever in her life and what if he began to raise his
hand to the child?

Simone learnt to avoid the subject and used her job as an
excuse for not being ready for children, and so nothing was ever planned, but
if there
had
been a little accident
then she would have loved the child with all her heart and done everything in
her power to protect it from harm. She thought about Kate and the way she
looked at Melody when Simone asked her if her husband was kind.
She
thought back to the interview with Hannah Zaragoza and her sister’s baby Ethan
and how she said he nearly brought the church down with the volume of his
crying.

Something clicked in her mind and a
sudden strand of thought formed and started to grow, but its growth was prematurely
stunted by distraction when the organ burst into life and the congregation
stood with hymn sheets in hand. Simone looked at Nathan, he was utterly
devastated and she wanted to be with him but as the music reverberated through
the building she couldn’t help but be somewhere else as her mind whirled like a
gyroscope. At the back of the building behind the alter, candles burned, she
remembered the forensic report and the comment regarding the wax found on the
back of Victoria Redman’s hand: generic candles made from white wax; like the
ones used in a church? The small kernel of thought continued to form in her
subconscious and when she grabbed hold of it ideas and answers washed over her
in waves and her body tingled with excitement. They sat down for the final part
of the short service. She had to make a phone call but she couldn’t leave just
yet and she reasoned that there were only minutes remaining.

She stole a glance at her watch when
they stood to leave but she didn’t forget Nathan and put a comforting hand on
his shoulder as they made their way outside.

After the shortest possible time she
caught Nathan’s attention and motioned to him that she had to make a call. She
left him talking to a relative and pulled her phone from her handbag. The icon
on the screen reminded her about the missed call she received just before the
service started. She dialled the station while she made her way to the side of
the church.

‘I need to know where baby Ethan was
christened. What church was it?’ she said and then explained who baby Ethan was
and his tenuous connection to the case. ‘I also want you to find out which
church was used for the funeral of Sylvia Croucher’s partner Russ.’ Again she
had to do some explaining. ‘Croucher was recently bereaved, she had a funeral
for her partner Russ Wilkins where was it?’

She agreed to let them call her back
with the information and the added, ‘Someone called me about an hour ago was it
important?’

‘I’ll have to ask around.’

‘Forget about it I’ll check my
voicemail, just find the name of the church and get back to me.’

She dialled her voicemail and
listened to the message. Gary Stevens was awake. The identity of his attacker
could be the information that would end the case. She paced around while her
mind raced. She looked at the small gathering of dark suited relatives and
acquaintances by the front of the building, located Nathan and walked towards
him while she tried to make the pieces fit.

The Shelter, the place where Victoria
Redman did her volunteer work was connected to this very church. If she moved
to the other side of the building she would be able to see the roof of the community
centre over the trees. Was this church the connection they had been looking
for?

West caught her eye as she approached
and when she got close enough she quietly told him the news that Stevens was
awake.

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘you go back to
work.’

‘Will you be okay? I can stay if you
want,’ she said and put a gentle hand on his arm.

‘I’ll be fine. Call me later when you
have news.’

‘I’ll get a cab, you take the car,’
she said and made to leave.

‘Hey, Simone?’

She turned back.

‘Thanks for coming with me.’

She smiled. ‘I wouldn’t have been
anywhere else Nathan. See you later.’

Her phone rang moments later. She
answered it and as she listened she walked the short distance down the path and
out to the front entrance. She asked the officer on the phone to repeat what he
just said and as he spoke Simone looked at the sign next to the gate and he may
as well have been reading it verbatim. ‘The church you were asking about is
called the St Peter and Paul Church of England,’ he said.

She hung up and considered her next
move. Was the killer here? Now? Was he here for the funeral of Sylvia’s partner
Russ, the funeral she had attended only days before? Was he here for baby
Ethan’s christening? Is this where he first saw Victoria Redman? This church
was the common denominator they had been searching for, it had to be. It was
the one thing that connected everything. She was bursting to tell Nathan but
she wasn’t going to disturb him again. She would tell him later after she had
spoken to Stevens and by then all the pieces might have slipped into place.

She decided to use the opportunity
while she was there to have a quick look around and made a mental note to
organise a thorough search of the church and the questioning of all associated
with it when she got back.

She headed back towards the main
building via a gravel pathway that swept the perimeter of the grounds and
avoided both the West funeral party and another funeral party that had gathered
by the side of the building waiting to go inside.

She followed the pathway through a
stone archway that opened into an immaculate churchyard of perfectly cut grass,
hedgerows and rose bushes. Roses, she thought and another piece fell into
place.

She followed the border until she reached
a maintenance area at the far end of the grounds that housed a series of woodsheds
and workshops.

The ground around the maintenance
area was worn and uneven underfoot and she could hear a high abrasive grinding
noise as she passed a stockpile of chopped wood piled in a wooden shelter,
protected from the elements by a makeshift corrugated roof.

The grinding sound that came from one
of the sheds whined over and over like cries of a dying animal. The door was
open and Simone could see a man sharpening one of the many gardening implements
that hung from hooks on the walls. Sparks flew across the floor as the man repeatedly
pushed the metallic edge into the abrasive surface of the grinding wheel. He
was sitting side-on to the doorway and too lost in concentration to notice her
as she passed the shed towards a large compost heap that baked in the heat of
the day by a hedgerow. She noted that beyond the hedge lay the outskirts of Bishop’s
Thorpe Wood. There was a break in the hedge; an opening to a dirt track that
was clearly a route for vehicles and another way into the church grounds that
Simone couldn’t have known about. The answers were so close she could feel it.
She wanted the entire task force here en-mass to tear the place to pieces.

‘You here for the funeral, or just
having a look around?’ said a voice from behind her.

Simone was so lost in her thoughts
she only noticed the grinding had stopped when the man spoke to her. She turned
to face him and was immediately sure she knew him from somewhere. He was shaven
headed and muscular, and dressed in a grubby vest and jeans. His skin was shiny
from the heat of the day and he used a rag to wipe grease from his fingers as
he walked closer towards her.

‘Both. Who are you?’ she said, still
trying to place his face. He looked so familiar to her but she couldn’t work
out where she had seen him before.

He furrowed his brow and glanced
towards the church. Simone followed his gaze and realised she was completely
alone with him. ‘You’re that copper aren’t you?’ he said.

‘Police officer. Where do I know you
from?’

‘I knew I’d seen you before.’

Simone was searching her mind. Who
the hell was he? She wanted to stand her ground but she also wanted to keep her
distance from him and his advances were forcing her back step by step. Then it
hit her. ‘You were there when we arrested Gary Stevens.’

‘Well done. People rarely remember me,’
he said as he charged at her like a bull. ‘But I always remember them.’

Simone had her back close to the
hedgerow and as he bore down on her there was only one direction for her to
turn but he punched her in the side of the head and knocked her to the ground
before she had time to move. When she was down he punched her again and knocked
her unconscious.