The Sect (The Craig Crime Series) (5 page)

Chapter
Four

Jake glanced at the clock above his grandmother’s head and then rose slowly to his feet. Her large eyes teared up instantly so he sat down again, taking her thin hand in his own. He smiled, tracing her familiar lines with his gaze until slowly she smiled back, then he spoke softly, as if saying the words more quietly would lessen their impact in some way.

“I
must
go to work, just for a few hours. The Superintendent has been kind but we need this job.”

We. That’s what it was now, but then that’s what it had always been. Him and them; his surrogate parents, with his partner Aaron very much the fourth wheel. Meredith McLean nodded and held her grandson’s smooth hand up to her cheek. Her voice was strong, stronger than Jake had expected it to be.

“You have your work, Jake, and you have your life with Aaron, just as your grandfather and I had ours. I’ll be fine once tomorrow is over, you’ll see. I’ll do all sorts of things; join clubs and make new friends. Don’t worry about me, please.” With that she set down his hand decisively and waved her own towards the door. “Now, go to work and I’ll see you later.” She rose briskly and turned her slim back towards him, busying herself with washing a cup. “If I turn around and you’re still there I’ll be very cross, Jake McLean.”

He took his cue and slipped out, but his mind whirred with questions about where their lives would go next. Regardless of what his grandmother said, he wanted to spend time with her; but how would Aaron feel about that? He’d been patient with his absences so far; as he’d nursed his granddad at home and then kept vigil in the hospital at the end. But it had been six months now and even a lover’s patience and sympathy only stretched so far.

Aaron would expect their life together to return to normal once the funeral was over, except that it couldn’t possibly. His granny needed him even more now, no matter what she said, and… Jake stopped by his car, realising something. And he needed her. She’d been his mother since he was five, how could he possibly abandon her now? He couldn’t and what’s more he didn’t want to. He loved talking to her, listening to her, just being there to help. Her kindness had been a constant in his life for almost twenty-five years.

He suddenly knew that in a tug of love between his partner and the small, slim woman who’d tucked him in at night, there would be no contest, and as he shifted his car into gear he prayed that Aaron never made him choose.

****

5 p.m.

“OK, let’s have some order.”

The detectives and scientists continued the business of pouring coffee and putting biscuits into their mouths, nodding as they greeted people that they hadn’t seen for weeks. Craig repeated the instruction more firmly and they started shuffling to their chairs, Liam muttering grudgingly at Davy as he went.

“You took the last custard cream.”

Davy’s reply was to drop the offending biscuit into his mouth and bite it in two with a loud crack. Craig intervened before the great biscuit war kicked off, but what he really wanted to do was crack both their heads. He was sick to the back teeth of always having to be the reasonable one, but it was a skill it had taken him years to acquire and an essential one if they didn’t want injuries. He’d learned long ago that his temper and fists had two speeds, zero and one hundred miles per hour, and he’d never mastered anything in between.

“Grow up, the pair of you! Nicky, give Liam another custard cream from your drawer and let’s make a start.”

As everyone wondered how long Nicky had been hoarding biscuits and how Craig knew the exact count, he began.

“OK, as of a few hours ago we have three dead bodies. All, and Mike and John can confirm this, in their late teens.”

Mike Augustus opened the thin file on his knee and read from the single sheet inside. “The third victim is male, aged between sixteen and twenty. He was found soon after death like the other two. I’ll have more detail after the P.M.”

Craig continued. “OK, so far we have two males and one female victim in nine days; the female was victim number one. All white, all under twenty and all found in the countryside near Downpatrick.”

As he dragged over a white board Liam muttered. “That’s ruined Downpatrick for me. I was going to take the kids there when it got warm.”

Andy interjected as Craig arranged the board. “I’m pretty sure it ruined it for the victims as well.”

Craig finished writing ‘young’, ‘white’ and ‘Downpatrick’ on the board and turned back to face the group.

“Quiet. We’ve a lot to cover. OK, first question. Why are all the victims young? Anyone?”

Andy answered him. “Easier to dupe, naïve, likely to be physically slight so easier to lift––”

Craig held up a hand, stopping him. “Good. All of those things apply. The other common findings are that all our victims were found with manacle marks, wet and wrapped in cling-film, with drowning the cause of death. Mike, was the third one drowned as well?”

Augustus nodded. “Same as the others. Probably domestic water from The Silent Valley. It serves Belfast and most of County Down.”

Craig added ‘manacles’, ‘cling-film’ and ‘drowned in domestic water’ to the list.

“The final thing is that John and Mike found the same words tattooed on the first two victims. In black ink on the boy’s right inner arm and in white beneath the girl’s breasts. Was there any sign on the third victim?”

Mike answered again. “Same phrase in the same position; right inner arm.”

Just then Jake walked through the double-doors. Craig nodded to him in respect; he hadn’t expected to see him much that week but he imagined that right now work must seem like a break. He wrote ‘tattoo’ on the board and turned to Davy.

“The tattoo isn’t in English so Davy’s been trying to get it translated. Davy?”

Davy had been picking at his nails, for once devoid of varnish. Craig suddenly noticed that his earrings had gone as well. He wasn’t sure if it was a sign of maturity or if some fresh piercing hell was on its way. The analyst shook his head.

“The translation could take a w…while.”

“Why so?”

“It looks like Latin but it’s not any Latin I ever learned; one of the words looks like confession but even that could be wrong. I tried all the translation engines but no joy, s…so I got on to the universities and so far all they’ve come back with is that it’s an ancient language.”

Liam snorted. “I could have told them that.”

Davy ignored him. “I can tell you that the tatt’s not on the PNC distinguishing marks database, s…so it’s never been found on a UK corpse before. I’m widening the search to Europe.”

As Craig said ‘OK’ vaguely, his mind searching for what the tattoo meant, he wrote ‘Ancient text?’ on the board and went to move on. His progress was halted by Liam suddenly bursting into song. Craig didn’t know what he was more surprised by, the piece he was singing or Liam’s amazing baritone voice. As the Latin words of Panis Angelicus faded away to a spontaneous round of applause he recovered enough to ask the questions on everyone’s lips.

“Where did you learn to sing like that? Why now? And how come this is the first time we’ve ever heard you?”

Liam grinned proudly. “The point is I know a lot of Latin. Choir and altar boy for ten years.” He gave Nicky a wink. “Then I discovered girls and went to hell in a handbasket.”

Craig smiled, imagining a teenage Liam chucking his sheet music into the air and racing after some girl.

“Well, if my mum ever hears you you’ll be duetting with her for years.” Mirella had been a concert pianist.

He tapped the board to focus them back on the case. “So Liam’s our resident Latin scholar but we’ll have to wait for the universities to translate the tattoo. OK, before I hand over to the Docs I need to emphasise that this isn’t a case we can drag our heels on. There have been three deaths in a short period, the last two today, so we have a serial killer on our hands and he’s escalating. If he continues at this rate… well, we all know what that means.”

He turned to where John, Mike and Des were sitting in a row, like a scientific three monkeys.

“Fire ahead, John.”

The pathologist lifted a folder beside his feet and distributed the hand-outs inside. They contained a mixture of words and photographs and as Annette flicked through the pages she gasped. He nodded.

“Quite. Try not to look at the photographs until we tell you what they are. Turn to page three please.”

It was a table.

“That’s the composition of the water found on the girl last week. We’re expecting the others to match.” He turned to the chair beside him where Des was busy stroking his beard. It was getting longer, a fact that Liam decided to point out.

Des sniffed disdainfully, sucking a strand of hair vertically as he did, then he started to explain the table.

“You’ll see that there are common chemicals listed: Aluminium, calcium, chlorine. They’re present in all purified water, but it’s the percentages that make the water peculiar to an area. This water definitely came from the Silent Valley. Narrower than that is impossible to say.”

Carmen interrupted. “How did you know to check it was purified?”

Des smiled kindly at her. He didn’t know Carmen well so he didn’t realise just how dangerous that was.

“The absence of diatoms and algae made us look. Then we found the chemicals.”

Even Craig heard the head-patting tone of his voice so he cut in before she made a caustic retort.

“So you expect all three victims to match.”

Des nodded. “We’ll obviously check each one, but yes.”

“Good. So if all our victims were drowned indoors that means our killers had privacy. It’s also more difficult than you think to drown someone, even if they’re weak. People fight back, so we know that our killer must be strong.”

Liam nodded. “A man.”

“Or two.”

Des continued cheerfully, unaware of his narrow escape.

“Yes. Sorry we can’t make the water source any more specific, but maybe CCTV will give some clue which direction the killer came from.”

Craig turned eagerly towards Davy to be met by a solemn shake of his head.

“Sorry, chief. No cameras in the area, the closest are miles away, near Ballynahinch and Dundrum.”

Craig sighed. Life was never easy. “Give Liam anything you can find.” He turned back to Des.

“OK, the cling-film round the victims. We’re fuming it for prints but I can tell you that there were no prints actually
on
the first two bodies; they were washed head to toe after death.”

“Definitely after?”

“Had to have been or we’d have found something from the killer. Also, they were washed in high concentration bleach as well as water and if they’d been alive they’d have scratched the skin off themselves.” He nodded to Mike. “Mike smelled it first.”

Craig was surprised. Not at the use of bleach, it was a standard forensic countermeasure that most criminals knew about, courtesy of TV cop shows. He was surprised because he hadn’t noticed it on either corpse. John saw his confusion.

“Before you start panicking that you have anosmia, don’t; I missed it too. Mike only spotted it because he removed the cling-film from the first boy. It evaporates quickly so by the time you saw the bodies it had gone.”

“It was definitely
on
the bodies, not on the outside of the wrapping?”

Mike nodded. “On the skin; head to toe as far as I could tell.”

Craig gave a nod. “OK, so bleach.” He wrote the word on the board and threw open the floor. “What could bleach mean? Anyone? Make it as weird as you like.”

Liam frowned. “Apart from the forensic benefits you mean?”

“Apart from that.”

Carmen was the first to speak. “Purification; he thought the victims were dirty in some way.”

“Good. Anyone else?”

Annette chipped in. “A hospital or clinic.”

“With a twisted use.”

Davy warmed to the theme. “A factory or a lab that uses chemicals. Or w…what about a drug house?”

Craig thought for a moment. “Good. Corrupt dealers sometimes cut drugs with bleach.”

Liam laughed. “As opposed to the law abiding ones?”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Very witty. OK, anything else?”

Liam showed his experience during The Troubles. “They could have been making bombs.”

As Craig scribbled the words on the board the group fell quiet. He tapped his marker against the list.

“This is a lot to go on with. Davy, check for any clinics, factories or abandoned warehouse facilities in a twenty mile radius of the dumpsites––”

Liam interrupted. “What’s to stop the bleach being something to do with the area itself? Maybe they dump chemicals there.”

It didn’t ring Craig’s bell but he added it to the list. “The Department of Environment would know, if it’s legal.”

Liam sniffed. “And if it’s illegal dumping we’re hammered.”

“Let’s leave that with Davy. OK, the bleach could be a false clue, although the fact that it was under the cling-film rather than on the outside makes it unlikely.” He turned back to Des. “Any joy on the victims’ I.D.s yet?”