Tania Carver - The Creeper

Fenwick looked slightly nervous. ‘I think you should…’

She put her hands round his neck.

‘Now, where were we?’

‘They’ve been dead a while,’ said Phil. ‘Both of them.’

‘I can see that…’ Mickey Philips tried to back out of the bathroom, only to find Anni blocking his way. Reluctantly, he stayed where he was.

‘You OK, Mickey?’ said Phil. ‘Not going to have a repeat of the other day?’

‘I’m fine, boss. Yeah…’

Phil wasn’t so sure. And he couldn’t blame his DS. The bathroom looked like the aftermath of a particularly violent, drunken party in an abattoir. Blood spray covered the white tiles from floor to ceiling, almost like a caricature of slaughter. But there was nothing caricatured about the bodies in the bath. A man and a woman, both fully-clothed, their necks slit open, the wounds deep and fierce, their bodies just dumped without any ceremony.

‘We know he likes a knife,’ said Phil. ‘That’s how he got rid of Zoe Herriot too.’

‘Weapon of choice,’ said Anni. ‘What’s that stuff they’re covered in?’

‘Quicklime, I reckon,’ said Phil. ‘Helps to break down the bodies faster. Hides the smell too.’

‘Lovely,’ said Anni.

‘Good job you were both nearby,’ said Phil.

‘Yeah,’ said Mickey, still trying not to look at the sight before him, ‘wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.’

Anni had told him all about Ian Buchan, the soldier she was tracking down, the boat he lived in. Seeing what had been done to Julie Miller’s neighbours in such close proximity, he had just jumped to the top of their prime-suspect list.

‘I’ll call it in, get a CSI team over here. I’ll just try Rose first.’ He dialled a number.

‘So what d’you reckon?’ said Mickey to Anni while Phil was on the phone. ‘He moved in here, kept Julie Miller under surveillance, then took her off somewhere.’

Anni nodded. ‘But why? Why take her away? Why not just keep watching her or if he wanted to, move in on her?’

‘Don’t know,’ said Mickey. ‘Maybe it’s, I don’t know, the next stage? Whatever he’s got in mind?’

‘But why one after the other?’

‘I don’t know. But I know one thing. That profile from Fiona Welch was a piece of shit. Either she’s not much cop or…’

‘She did it deliberately,’ finished Anni.

Phil put his phone away, clearly not happy. ‘Not answering. She’s bloody useless…’ He turned to the other two. ‘Right. We’ll get a team over here, go over the flat. I’m sure they’ll find surveillance stuff. In the meantime, I want you two to get over the river, keep watch on that boat for anyone coming back. Don’t go after them or try to take them on your own, just keep watch and let me know soon as. I’ll get an armed response team down there straight away.’

Anni and Mickey both nodded.

‘I’ll seal this place up then get back to the station. Brief everyone on what we’ve found. Things are picking up speed, let’s keep on with it. Any questions?’

Mickey looked uncomfortable. ‘Boss…’

‘Yes, Mickey.’

‘Fiona Welch. That profile…’

‘Was awful, I know. Fenwick got her on the cheap. His usual tactic, covering his arse, trying to make savings while paying lip service to what he considers good practice. She’s useless. I’ll get shot of her when I get back. Anything else?’

Mickey seemed to want to say something further but hesitated.

‘OK. On you go. Keep in touch.’

They left the flat.

Phil got on the phone again.

The case was moving.

It felt good.

Fenwick’s phone rang. He was still in his office, zipping up his trousers, Rose Martin sitting on the desk beside him, head back and smiling, like a cat that had just been particularly well fed.

Fenwick looked at the display, saw who it was. Phil Brennan.

‘Don’t answer it,’ said Rose, rearranging her clothes, running fingers through her hair.

He looked conflicted once more, his post-coital mood dropping away to reveal his earlier doubts.

It kept ringing.

Rose leaned across, placed her hand on his. ‘Don’t answer it.’

‘I can’t just… I’m the superior officer on this case. It might be important.’

Fire flashed in Rose’s eyes once more. ‘Ben, what have I just showed you? What links have I just made for you? I’ve just given you a lead that’s going to blow anything Phil Brennan’s got right out of the water. Now you can either answer that phone, go running after him or you can come with me.’

Fenwick said nothing. Kept his eyes averted from hers.

‘What’ll it be?’

The phone stopped ringing.

Fenwick sighed. ‘Come on,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Good call, Ben. That’s the right decision.’ She gave a sly smile, thrusting her breasts out as she did so. ‘And besides, you might just get another reminder of my awesome blow-job technique if you come with me.’

Despite having come only moments earlier, he felt himself stiffening once more. She knew how to press his buttons. And he loved to have them pressed.

‘Come on then,’ he said, unlocking his office door and stepping into the hall.

As he did so, Fiona Welch was walking towards him.

‘There you are,’ she said, ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

He stopped walking. As he did, Rose emerged from the office, bumped into him. Fiona looked between the two of them, a smile spreading across her face.

Fenwick felt himself reddening. ‘I’ve just been… We’ve been looking at a new lead that’s… that’s just come in. That we’ve just discovered. That Rose – that DS Martin has just shown me.’

‘Right.’ Fiona Welch nodded, kept her smile controlled. ‘There’s been a phone call for you in the bar. I took it. DI Brennan. Says he’s got a new lead. Lot of them about.’

Fenwick nodded. ‘Right. Right. Well, I’ve just – we’ve just got to pop out for a bit. Got a lead of our own to follow up.’

‘Oh, whereabouts?’ Fiona’s question was sharp, quick. She smiled. ‘I’m only asking because I’m… doing the geographic profile DI Brennan asked me to do. If you’ve got something I should know where it is, factor it in.’

‘Greenstead Road,’ he said. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me…’

Fenwick, with Rose in tow, squeezed past Fiona Welch. She watched them go. Then went back to her desk. Keyed the information Fenwick has just given her into her BlackBerry.

The Creeper had stopped noticing the smell.

He was used to being surrounded by death. Years of living with it on a daily basis had done that to him. There were tricks he used, ways to make them smell less, or to make him not think about them being there so much, but that’s all they were. Just tricks. The actual death, of stopping someone’s heart, seeing the light go out in their eyes, that didn’t bother him at all. In fact, he enjoyed it. And having their bodies around him, the empty husks that had once housed their spirits, just lying on the floor or in another room was nothing. Just more rubbish lying about.

It hadn’t always been like that. Or at least he didn’t think it had. If he thought back hard enough he could remember a time when things were different. Before the fire.

Before the nightmares and the monsters.

In those memories and dreams it was always summer. The colours so vivid, alive. There were swings and laughter. And a girl. Always a girl. Small, smiling. At him. In a kind way.

Not Rani. Not like her.

And yet… not unlike her.

And she would laugh and he would smile and the sun would make the soft downy hairs on his arms tickle. Those dream memories.