Steven Dunne - Deity

‘I can handle it.’

‘Well, I walked into the Slumber Room one morning and Oz was in there.’ Duxbury hesitated.

‘Yes?’

‘He was interfering with a corpse.’ He seemed reluctant to elaborate.

‘Go on,’ urged Brook.

‘Well, he’d undressed the deceased and removed the padding from the abdominal cavity.’

‘Padding? To keep the natural body shape?’

‘In the absence of internal organs, yes. Well, he was trying to force something else into the cavity.’

‘What was it?’ demanded Brook.

Twenty minutes before briefing, Brook was arranging photographs of the four missing students on a display board, having managed to obtain a photograph of Russell Thomson from the college. DS Gadd was writing up a report on the interviews at Duxbury amp; Duxbury. Noble walked into the Incident Room carrying two teas. He gave one to Brook, smiling an apology at Gadd then pulled out a sheaf of papers from his jacket. ‘One search-warrant for the Watson house. And the Chief’s on his way back. You were right — he was out of the door as soon as I mentioned the press conference.’

PC Patel knocked and walked into the Incident Room. She handed Brook an HMV bag and a two-pound coin and headed for the entrance.

Brook extracted two DVDs of Picnic at Hanging Rock , an Edgar Allan Poe anthology and a packet of cigarettes from the bag and stared at her. ‘I gave you fifty pounds.’

‘The receipts are in there, sir,’ she said in mock disbelief. ‘The DVDs were eighteen quid each.’ She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she left.

Noble picked up one of the DVDs. ‘Any joy at the funeral parlour?’

‘Our man worked there briefly a year ago,’ said Brook, pocketing his change.

‘So he’d know about the tramps in the squat.’

‘All over it, apparently.’

‘So what are we waiting for? Let’s go get him.’

‘He was off the books, John. We didn’t get an address though Duxbury thinks he might have lived near Shardlow.’

‘Convenient for both dump sites,’ said Noble.

‘Very. Our suspect’s name is Oz or Ozzy Reece. Very much the lone wolf. Nobody got to know him and he didn’t give out any personal details, formal or informal. We’ve got an artist working up a composite.’

‘Ozzy Reece. That’s a name to get noticed,’ observed Noble. ‘Sounds phony.’

‘It is,’ said Gadd. ‘No hits.’

‘Odd to choose something so unusual.’

Gadd smiled slyly at Brook. ‘It wasn’t his name that got him noticed at the funeral parlour, John. There was a particular fetish which caught the attention.’

‘I’m all ears,’ said Noble.

‘He got caught stuffing a loaf of bread into a corpse’s body cavity. That’s why they let him go.’

Noble chuckled briefly but stopped when neither of his colleagues joined in. He looked from one to the other. ‘White or brown?’ he finally said.

Brook shrugged.

‘You’re kidding, right.’

‘Strange, but true, John,’ said Brook. ‘But when someone’s already interfering with corpses, nothing surprises.’

‘Any hits on the databases?’

‘Not one. Nothing on the PNC or HOLMES,’ said Gadd.

‘Hardly surprising,’ said Noble. ‘That’s one unique signature. Do we know if he did that to McTiernan and Kirk?’

‘The lab’s checking McTiernan again,’ said Gadd. ‘Kirk was in the water too long.’ She shrugged. ‘At least it’s a lead. I’m nowhere on the booze. Nobody seems to stock barley wine any more and, of course, everyone stocks whisky. I’ll have to plough through all the bulk sales. Unless. .’ She looked over at Brook.

‘Unless what?’

‘Unless I look for some empties outside the house.’ And as Brook prepared to voice an objection, ‘I’ll be careful, sir. It’s our only chance of getting a batch number to follow back to point of sale. And even then. .’

Brook nodded. ‘Be careful.’

‘I will.’ Gadd headed for the door. ‘I’m off to canvass all the local bakeries.’ Brook and Noble turned. ‘Joke,’ she grinned as she left.

Noble yawned.

‘You okay?’ asked Brook.

‘As long as I don’t pull another duty tonight.’ Noble stared at Brook, waiting for a reassurance that didn’t arrive. ‘Right.’

‘The house is our best lead, John. I know it’s tough so we’re switching to solo two-hour shifts tonight. Jane’s on first. You relieve her at midnight.’

Noble blew out his cheeks and nodded. ‘Who’s after me?’

‘Rob Morton’s on two to four,’ said Brook. ‘Then it’s me. I’ll talk to the Chief about extra bodies when he gets back. We can’t work both cases. They’re too labour intensive.’

Noble took a sullen sip of tea and eyed the photo array. ‘That our new student?’

‘Russell Thomson, Rusty to friends. Last seen the day before Kyle’s party.’

‘Bedroom tidy. .’

‘. . and phone and leaflet on the bed. No SIM card. The technicians are picking up his laptop.’

‘And the mother only notices her son missing when you call to tell her. Unbelievable.’

‘Well, she works nights, John. When you start a family. .’

‘Me? No chance. I like my independence too much.’

Brook smiled thinly at him. ‘It’s overrated.’

‘Want me to add his mother to the parental background check?’

Brook nodded thoughtfully. ‘I do. Yvette Thomson — single parent. You’ve got the address. She’s a bit over-familiar and seems nice enough, but I want to know about a mother who can’t produce a single photograph of her son.’ Brook broke into a sudden grin. ‘Speaking of single parents, my daughter has come to stay for a couple of weeks.’

‘You have a daughter?’ Noble enjoyed Brook’s discomfort. ‘I’m kidding. I knew that much. I’ve forgotten her name.’

‘Theresa — Terri. She’s over from Manchester University.’

‘How long since you’ve seen her?’

Brook hesitated over the information without knowing why. ‘A while.’

‘I’d love to meet her. We can compare notes.’ Brook was thin-lipped in the face of Noble’s grin. Brook’s mobile phone vibrated.

‘And that explains why you’ve got your phone turned on.’ Noble smirked in mock amazement. ‘Now that is news.’

Brook smiled back sarcastically.

‘Dad, it’s me.’

‘Terri.’

‘Are you near a computer?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘Get the internet up and type in deity.com. ’

Brook looked across at Noble. ‘Terri. How do you know about Deity?’

‘It’s on that leaflet you brought home.’

He shook his head. ‘I left it there? That was careless. You didn’t take it out of the plastic, did you?’

‘Dad, course not. But I had a look at the site, out of interest, see if it was anything to do with your case.’

‘It is.’

‘There’s an interesting bit of film on it. I checked and the same thing is also on YouTube and getting a lot of hits. You should take a look.’

‘I will.’

‘What time will you be-?’

But Brook had rung off and was already typing the web address into his computer. The Deity home page loaded. It was no longer under refurbishment. The background was in grey and black. Live Forever and the other slogans were there in large red lettering, just like the leaflet, but there were another couple of features. In one corner of the screen, a countdown was taking place. According to the clock there were another twenty-three hours and twenty minutes to go.

In the centre of the screen was a large black box with a Play button in the middle.