Chris Simms - Savage Moon

'But if someone else wrote that, what were they saying? I remember what he did to you. Some sort of a tribute or acknowledgement?'

'Or it's an instruction. To whoever finds the body.'

Jon pulled his car keys out. 'Summerby will need to get Dr Heath's opinion on this. Too psychological for me. Anyway, did he say what language it was in?'

'Yeah. A tribal dialect from Kenya. Kikuyu.'

'Kenya?' Jon said, immediately conducting a mental check of any previous time the country had cropped up in the investiga- tion. His mind halted at an image of Jeremy Hobson describing how he'd seen a leopard dragging the carcass of a young giraffe up a tree in Kenya. He removed the panther hairs from his pocket. 'We need to get a DNA test done, and fast.'

As they walked into the incident room Jon scanned the faces inside. From the way most officers avoided his eyes, he knew news had leaked out that Summerby had taken charge of the investigation. Keeping his chin up, he went over to his desk and picked up the phone. 'Hi, Nikki, it's Jon here.'

'What's making me think you need a really urgent favour?'

'You've got me sussed. That DNA test kit you mentioned. Will it work on a few more hairs I've got?'

'Only if there are follicles attached. I haven't got the facilities to test off keratin alone.'

Jon examined the bag. 'There are. On most of them anyway.'

'I'll try then. Send them over to my office.'

'Don't you want to know what it's about?'

'Jon, I'm sitting outside a courtroom and they're calling me in at any moment to give evidence. Just send the things over and I can ring you back. It'll be early evening though.'

'Cheers Nikki, they're on their way.'

He checked his message inbox yet again. Still nothing from Alice. This was getting ridiculous. He tried her number again. Bastard answerphone. 'Ali, it's me at three twenty-five. Call me when you pick this up, I don't know where you are.' He pressed red, then immediately called home. When the phone was answered it was Alice's voice that came down the line.

'Alice!' He sat back. 'Thank God for that. Where've you been?'

'The library.'

'All day?'

'Yes, I've just walked in.'

'I've been trying to call you on your mobile… ' He stopped, realising why it had been turned off.

'Oh, I must have forgotten to turn it back on when I came out. You've been leaving messages?'

She sounds really upbeat, Jon thought, finding her shift in mood confusing. 'A couple. I didn't know where you were.'

'But I couldn't have it switched on in there.'

'I realise. What were you doing anyway?'

'Researching the Iraqi civilian death count.' Oh no.

'There was an article I needed in a back issue of the New Statesman . Honestly, the whole thing is… scandal isn't strong enough. It's an-'

'What did you do with Holly?'

'What?'

'Holly. Where has she been all day?'

'With me of course. I took everything I needed down to the basement cafe´. No one minded me breast feeding down there.' She dropped her voice to a whisper. 'You realise your mum's here? She's fussing around in the kitchen.'

'I know. I asked her. Alice, I didn't know where the hell you were. I was really worried, to be honest. You just disappeared.'

'Oh, so you sent her round?' Irritation had crept into her voice.

'Not to check up,' Jon protested. 'Just see if you were OK. Anything could have happened. You might have slipped in the shower.'

'But you couldn't find the time to check yourself?'

'Not this morning. There was another body found-'

'You're still on that case.'

'In a supporting role, yes.' Silence.

'Ali, I couldn't just pack it in completely. Listen, I'll be back soon. I'm waiting for the results of a couple of tests.'

'Fine. That's fine. Is your mother staying here until then or am I safe enough to be left alone with my baby?'

'She's only trying to help.'

'Holly's ready for a feed. I'd better go.'

'Can you put Mum on then?'

He heard Alice walking away. 'Mary, Jon wants a word.' Her voice grew fainter with each step.

A few seconds later his mum came on the line. 'Hello, Jon.' Do I mention seeing Dave? Or would it be better if he rings. Unsure of the best option, he decided not to mention it.

'Thanks for sticking around, Mum.'

'No problem. I've done some cleaning up.'

'Is Alice in the front room?'

'She is.'

'How does she seem to you?'

'Grand. A bit confused to find me here though.'

'And Holly?'

'The little poppet's fine.'

'Are you staying? I should be home soon.'

'Well.' She sounded uncomfortable. 'Your dad's expecting me back. I've put on another casserole for you two. I don't want to get in the way.'

'I know, Mum. But I'm worried about Alice. Does she really seem fine?'

'Absolutely. Jon… this is very awkward.'

He nodded, suddenly aware of the position he was putting her in. 'Sorry. You head off then. I shouldn't be long.'

He kept the receiver to his ear despite the fact his mum had hung up. Could Alice have turned a corner? OK, the object of her enthusiasm wasn't exactly healthy, but at least she was sounding happier in herself. Yes. Perhaps she just needed something to occupy her mind. He replaced the phone, trying to ignore the part of him that was totally unconvinced.

'Everything OK?' Rick asked from the next desk.

'That was Alice. She sounds like her old self. Well, not totally. But miles better.'

'Really?'

'Yeah.' He shook his head. To think it occurred to him that she and Holly could have been in danger. He glanced at Rick, wondering whether to ask if his sister had ever considered harming herself, but it wasn't the right time or place. And besides, asking the question implied he was concerned Alice might — and that was ridiculous. 'She's been out with Holly in town. You could hear the energy in her voice.'

Rick looked relieved. 'Fingers crossed then.'

For the next hour and a half they typed up reports for the indexer, their bursts of conversation eventually broken as the doors opened. A couple of officers entered the room with the first items recovered from the scene of Trevor Kerrigan's death. A large plastic evidence sack with his golf bag and clubs inside was propped in the corner, followed by the files from the boot of his car. Another handed the indexer a bag containing his keys, mobile phone and wallet. Jon turned back to his computer, thinking of the team that would be in Kerrigan's house questioning the wife about his enemies.

A couple of officers had sauntered over, eager to see what had been left behind at the scene of the latest murder. Jon heard plastic cracking as one lifted the golf bag up for closer inspection.

'Callaway, Terra Firma. Very posh. What did this guy do for a living?'

'Moneylender apparently,' someone else replied. 'Could it have any more pockets?'

The other officer laughed. 'This is top notch. Look, an insulated pocket for your drinks.'

'Nice touch. What's that scratched in the leather?'

'Where? Oh yes. Kuri… kuriri. . what does it say?'

In his mind's eye, Jon suddenly saw the word. It was scrawled on a notice board, nestled amongst other signatures. There were trees behind it and through them, the shine of water. Was it Crime Lake? The car park where Derek Peterson was found? He stood up and said loudly, 'Kuririkana.'

Rick's hands were frozen above his keyboard. 'The word on the bottom of Danny Gordon's suicide note.'

Everyone turned to look at them. Jon pointed to the officers with the golf bag. 'Is that what it says?'

One leaned down. 'It does.'

He began to click his fingers. 'That's not the only place I've seen it. Crime Lake. I think I spotted it there.'

'Crime Lake? Whereabouts?' Rick asked.