The Smoke In The Photograph (10 page)

Strange, alcohol inspired dreams haunted Sam Fluting as he slept in his car. Though the dreams made little sense to him, each one woke him with a start. Then it would take him time to go back to sleep, trying to get comfortable in the back seat of his car.

It was a knock on his window that woke him that morning. Through the haze of his hangover he looked up to Sid Graves smiling down at him through the car window.

'Get up, sir,' Graves said. 'I'll buy you a coffee.'

The sergeant took him to a small, quiet cafe in the small shopping arcade in Darton. Sam went to the toilet and washed his face with cold water, trying to wake himself up.

When he returned, Graves was sitting at a table with two steaming mugs of coffee.

'What are you doing here, Sid?' Sam asked, realising he had not even questioned his colleague's presence yet.

'I wasn't the first person to bang on your car window this morning,' he said with a knowing grin.

'What?' Sam asked.

'Apparently a young constable spotted you and tapped on the window to ask you to move along,' Graves said. 'You promptly showed him your warrant card and told him to fuck off.'

Sam cringed. Somewhere in his memory was a vague recollection of this, but he had thought it was one of the vivid dreams that had troubled his sleep. He put his head in his hands on the table.

'Oh God.’

Graves laughed.

'The young lad took note of your name and looked you up,' he said. 'I got the call an hour ago to come and collect you.'

Sam shook his head.

'Sorry, Sid, it was a rough night.'

Graves took a long sip of his coffee and then looked at Sam. Partly because of his hangover, but mainly due to Graves’s ability to hide his emotions, Sam couldn't tell what the look meant, but he suspected it was pity.

'What happened?'

The sergeant asked the question Sam had expected. Sam shook his head.

'Reed tried to reassign me yesterday,' he said. 'He thinks the case could use some new blood.'

Graves sighed.

'Perhaps he's right, you've given everything to this case, and it's starting to take its toll.'

Sam, who had still been slouching forward, straightened himself up.

'That's true,' he said. 'On the other hand, I've lost so much for this case I deserve to be the one who catches him.'

Graves nodded. It was something they both understood; when you have put so much blood, sweat and tears into a case it's hard to watch someone else come along and take the glory.

'You said he tried to reassign you,' Graves said. 'How was it left?'

'He's given me two weeks,' Sam said, shaking his head. 'Two weeks to crack a case that's had me beat for six years.'

'Well then, perhaps you need to focus, not spend your nights getting drunk in little towns and sleeping in your car.'

Sam laughed. Graves was right. Last night had been foolish, but it had also been essential. Sam had felt like he was going to explode from all of the pressure. He had to vent somehow, even if it wasn't a particularly productive way of doing it.

That happened last night, though. Today he had to get down to business. Reed could have forced him off the case last night. He should thank the superintendent for at least giving him a chance, not be bitter about it.

'Okay,' Sam said. 'Let's look at what we know. What do the victims have in common?'

'Very little,' Graves replied. 'There seems to be no pattern in terms of age, hair colour, race or appearance.'

'That's right,' Sam said. 'In fact, the only thing they all have in common is they were married women. The fact that is the only connection must be significant in some way. It's not like he just picked ten random women who were all married by accident.'

'He could have,' Graves said. 'Highly unlikely. So what's the significance of their marital status?'

'I don't know,' Sam said.

'Maybe he just wanted them but couldn't have them as they were married.'

Sam shook his head.

'No, there is no sexual element to the murders,' he said. 'If that was the case, we'd see some evidence of rape or something, even in the bloody mess he leaves behind. In some ways, he's desexualising these women. Removing everything that makes them women.'

Graves closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, then looked at Sam once more.

'Maybe he's a jilted lover,' he said. 'These women were having an affair with him, they ended it and he made it so their husbands wouldn't want them.'

Sam thought about this. It was a possibility, he supposed. It would certainly make sense of the nature of the crimes.

'The only problem is that, as far as we can tell, only two of the women had been unfaithful to their husbands, and we have questioned their lovers.'

Graves put his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender.

'I'm out of ideas then.’

'Me too,' Sam admitted. 'So let's leave that for a moment. What about the changes with the last murder, the fact that she was murdered and left out in the open?'

'It seems likely that was only because the dead woman's husband was at home ill,' Graves said.

'That means he's watching them for some time before he kills them,' Sam said. 'It also means he couldn't wait any longer to kill her. He had to do it that night.'

Graves nodded.

'Also, it means he's starting to lose control.’

'Maybe. That would also account for the sighting of him at the scene, when the body was found.'

Graves shook his head.

'We don't know that.'

Sam glared across the table at him.

'I know it was him,' Sam said. 'I think he is either losing control or getting too confident. Either way, that's when mistakes happen.'

'Like leaving the murder weapon behind,' Graves said.

Sam shrugged. He had considered that himself at first, but the more he thought about it he doubted it.

'I don't think that was a mistake,' Sam said. 'He wanted us to find it. He wanted to prove he was better than our forensics team.'

Graves nodded, then smiled.

'My gran always used to say that pride came just before the fall.'

Sam had heard that expression himself, and he hoped that it was true. The increase in confidence and arrogance of the killer suggested he was taking great pride in what he did. If he did fall, Sam was going to be there to catch him.

After a long time, Steven had managed to coax Julia, who was still crying, out of the attic and down to the bedroom. She had fallen asleep in his arms. He had lain there holding her for several hours. It was clear that she had worked too hard the previous night. She was exhausted.

Those paintings she had done disturbed him. They were good of course, but then everything she painted was excellent in his eyes. But these two were so different from all of her previous work, and so specifically of this house.

Why had she become so obsessed with the murder of Helen Swanson all of a sudden? It had been he that had initially not wanted the house for that reason, not that he could let her know the truth about why. She had been desperate to live here, and had acted as though he was being stupid worrying about the murder.

The phone rang and Julia stirred and then rolled over away from him. Steven got up and answered the phone. It was his boss, Mr Walden, the consultant surgeon who one day he hoped to be able to replace.

After he had finished the call, Steven put the phone back down on the cradle. When he turned around to the bed, Julia was looking at him, her eyes puffy and red from all of the crying.

'I have to go into work,' he said, guilt evident in his voice.

She looked straight at him, her eyes full of concern.

'Why? You've only just come out of the hospital yourself.'

He went over to the bed and sat next to her. He stroked her forehead.

'I know, but I'm fine. Mr Walden needs me. It's an emergency hemorrhage case. He needs me to assist.'

Julia looked unsure.

'Can't he find anyone else?' she asked.

'Not as good as me,' he said with a cheesy grin.

Julia erupted into laughter and slapped his chest.

'You're so modest.’

'Besides, it is my night on call, and there's no one who can cover me.'

She sat up and tied her hair into a loose ponytail.

'All right, what time are you going?'

'Pretty soon. They're already prepping the guy,' he said. 'Are you going to be all right?'

'I'll be fine. I feel much better for the sleep,' she said. 'I'll ask Wendy or Paula to come round and keep me company if it makes you feel better.'

He leant forward and kissed her on the head.

'It would make me feel a lot better about leaving you,' he said.

'Okay then,' she said and then added, 'I love you.'

'I love you too,' he said. 'I'm going to take a quick shower. Why don't you phone Wendy and Paula?'

She reached for the phone, knowing full well she couldn't reach it. She pouted and opened and closed her hand.

Steven shook his head and sighed. Getting up he grabbed the phone and threw it to her. She caught it and then blew him a kiss.

'So did you arrange it?' Julia whispered as she let Wendy into the hallway. Her friend began taking off her coat.

'I did, but…' she began to say in her normal voice.

Julia put her finger to her lips and shushed her.

'Keep it down,' she whispered. 'I don't want Steven to know.'

This is why earlier she had waited until she had heard the water going in the shower before making the call to Wendy. Steven would not approve of her plan, but she had to find out what was going on.

'Okay,' Wendy whispered. 'It's all sorted out, but why?'

Julia was going to tell her, but she heard the sound of Steven's heavy footsteps on the stairs. She looked up as he came into view around the bend of the staircase. He was dressed as he usually did when he went in for surgery, just his jogging bottoms and a sweat shirt. He didn't see the point in getting dressed up when he was only going to change into scrubs as soon as he got there. He smiled at the two women as he descended.

'Good evening, ladies,' he said, then looked around. 'Where is the third member of the terrible trio?'

Wendy looked confused for a moment.

'Huh? What?' she asked, before the comment clicked. 'Oh, Paula couldn't make it. She had to go and get the kids from their dad’s.'

Steven nodded then turned to his wife.

'I have to go and fix people.'

He walked over to Julia and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled into his embrace. There was something magical to her about his hugs that always comforted her. She assumed it was just that hugs were a pretty much alien concept to her before she met him, and now she couldn't get enough.

He kissed her on the mouth. A gentle, tasteful kiss, but one that showed his love for her more than any passionate kiss could.

'I'll see you in the morning then?' Julia said as he stepped away from her.

'Yes, you will,' he said, planting a second little kiss on her cheek. 'Are you going to be all right?'

His concern was sweet, if not a little condescending.

'Hey, I'm here to look after her,' Wendy said. 'She'll be fine.'

Steven looked at Wendy and smiled, but when he turned around to her, Julia could still see the uncertainty in his eyes.

'I feel much better now,' she said. 'I guess you were right; I just wore myself out.'

Steven nodded. There was still a hint of doubt in his face, but Julia believed she had allayed the worst of his fears. He leant forward and kissed her once more.

Julia was aware of Wendy pretending to stick her fingers down her throat in mock disgust at the public display of affection, but Julia didn't care.

'See you in the morning,' Steven said, then turned around and went to the door.

'Night, Steve,' Wendy said as he passed. Steven said bye. Then he was gone.

Wendy turned back to Julia.

'So what's going on?' she asked.

Julia put her finger up, asking Wendy to wait. She listened and heard Steven's car start up and reverse across the gravel then head up the drive. Then she grabbed Wendy by the hand.

'You've arranged for her to come at nine?' she asked.

'Yes, but why did I?' Wendy asked in a tone that matched the look of confusion on her face.

Julia began pulling her by the hand towards the staircase.

'Come upstairs. I'll show you.'

Sam had spent most of the day going through the case files with Graves, and attempting to ignore his seemingly unending hangover.

It was a pointless exercise. Over the past six years the files had been examined practically every week and never revealed anything. This time was no exception.

He got a call from Alex Parker in forensics asking him to stop by. Graves had tried to tell him that perhaps the whiz kid had finally caught them a break. Sam had pretended to be optimistic, but in reality he doubted it.

Driving over to the crime lab he had been thinking that maybe it was now time to move on. Perhaps he should make an appointment with Reed the following day and say he would take the reassignment there and then. What was the point in dragging out the inevitable for another two weeks?

He would request to take some leave. God knows he was owed plenty. He hadn't taken any holiday since the Ripper case began. He wanted a change of scenery, and to recharge his batteries, but more importantly, he needed to reconnect with his children. He was almost a stranger to them now. He knew there was little chance of repairing his marriage. She had moved on, and he could not blame her for that. His children, however, deserved their father.

As he walked into the crime lab, he saw Alex sitting behind the desk in his office. He was shuffling papers and adding them to the other mountains of crap piled up in front of him. Alex Parker and his amazing filing system.

'You better have a bloody good reason for calling me here,' he said as he came into the office.

Alex looked up, a little shocked.

'Jesus,' he said. 'What's up with you?'

Perhaps his words had come out harsher than he had intended. The lingering throb of the hangover was making him irritable.

'Sorry, it's been another tough day. Reed told me yesterday I have two weeks left on the case, and I decided to drown my sorrows. Really paying for it now, though.'

Alex nodded his acceptance of the apology.

'That's a tough break,' he said. 'This might cheer you up, though.'

Sam hadn't noticed until now, but there was a twinkle in Alex's eye. There was the hint of a grin caressing his lips, like a child who was trying desperately to keep a big secret.

Sam pulled out the chair opposite Alex and sat down.

'What have you got?

Alex leant forward. He was practically shaking with excitement, and it was contagious. Sam began to feel his optimism return. He knew from experience that when Alex Parker was excited about something, a big clue had been uncovered.

'You know I told you I'd clean up and examine the scalpel?' Alex said.

Sam nodded.

'After I did that, the first thing I saw was a small red mark, like a little splatter of paint.'

Sam was just about to ask the obvious question.

'Yes,' Alex said before he had the chance. 'I've sent a sample off to be tested against paint brands.'

'Of course you have,' Sam said, smiling. 'If it's an unusual brand, it might help.'

'Then I ran it under a UV light,' Alex continued. 'I found a security code on it.'

The words made Sam's pulse quicken as Alex spoke.

'It's the security code for Lincoln County Hospital. Apparently it's put on every item of stock they buy, to try to deter theft.'

Sam wanted to hug Alex. In fact he would have been willing to kiss him.

'He's a surgeon,' Sam said. 'He's a fucking surgeon at the hospital.'

Alex shrugged.

'Possibly,' he said. 'He could have just stolen it from there, but it's a definite connection to the hospital.'

'Either way I'd better check it out,' Sam said. 'Can I take the scalpel with me?'

Alex opened the drawer of his desk. He pulled out the scalpel in an evidence bag.

'I thought you might say that,' he handed it over to Sam. 'Just please don't lose it.'

Sam tucked the evidence bag into the inside pocket of his jacket. Standing up, he turned to leave but then turned back to Alex.

'I'm going to get him,'

'I know you are,' Alex said.

'I fucking love you, Alex Parker,' Sam said with a broad grin.

'Get out,' Alex said, laughing.