Steven Dunne - The Disciple

‘So you’ve said.’

‘You’re taking this very well.’

‘How should I be taking it, John?’

‘You should be sticking up for your division, sir,’ said Noble icily. ‘What about our reputation? I suppose you…’ He stopped in mid-sentence.

Brook stared at him, taken aback by this sudden glimpse of old grudges he thought had withered. ‘But I’m not from this division, am I? I’m an outsider who was imposed on it. That’s why I don’t care about its reputation. That what you wanted to get off your chest, John?’

Noble looked away, tight-lipped; Brook heard him mutter, ‘Not exactly … maybe.’

Brook sighed and looked around. ‘We shouldn’t be arguing in front of the troops.’ He walked Noble a little way from the house, although privacy of any kind was impossible. ‘John, look at it from Charlton’s point of view. Greatorix is on the sick list. And I’m in the doghouse because of Brian Burton’s book. I’m tainted, John. Past and present. There’s a long and well-documented history of my failure to catch The Reaper, on top of which…’

‘On top of which?’

‘On top of which … they’re here. And they’re already investigating a possible Reaper killing in Brighton,’ he added quietly.

‘What?’ exclaimed Noble. ‘What killing?’

‘Tony Harvey-Ellis.’

‘Who’s he?’

Brook nodded towards the Ingham house. ‘I’ll tell you later.’

Chief Superintendent Charlton had emerged from around the side of the house. His face was ashen and he appeared to be having a little difficulty walking, to judge from the attention he was giving to where he stepped. Brook fancied he was blind to everything apart from what he’d just witnessed. Behind him followed Hudson and Grant. The latter detached herself and headed over to the gap in the fence. She gazed across at the darkened house opposite before approaching a uniformed officer. Brook watched her, trying not to be obvious about it. The uniformed officer pointed towards PCs Duffy and Parker who were kicking their heels next to a Scientific Support van. Grant marched over like any good detective would. Talk to the first officers on the scene. Basic police work. It wouldn’t be long now.

Brook flicked his eyes back to Charlton who, together with Hudson, was approaching. Brook realised he had never seen the Chief Super out of uniform before. Minus his protective suit, he was soberly dressed and wore a large camel coat from which he now extracted a pair of brown leather gloves. He pulled them on, without breaking his sightless, unblinking stare.

On reaching Brook and Noble, Charlton finally managed to find his voice. ‘My God.’ He shook his head and squinted up at Brook suddenly. Brook gazed down into his confused eyes and fancied he detected a morsel of sympathy in there. Sympathy for the victims no doubt, but also some realisation of what it must be like for CID, at the sharp end, to have to deal with such sights.

‘We need a win on this one, people,’ Charlton said. ‘We’ve got to catch whoever did this. And not just for the stats. Who could do such a thing?’

‘How long have you got?’ nodded Hudson grimly. ‘Honestly, that was nothing, Chief Superintendent. One of the neatest crime scenes I’ve ever seen.’

‘Is it The Reaper?’ asked Charlton, fixing Brook with a look.

‘It’s a creditable copy,’ replied Brook, keeping a peripheral eye on Grant, who was still talking to Duffy and Parker.

Charlton nodded. ‘You can tell me how you know that later. What’s being done now?’

‘We’ve forty or so uniformed officers searching all the neighbouring gardens. I’ve got my CID team going door to door for witnesses, asking about the history of the Inghams, feuds, disputes, known enemies. The Forensics people are obviously doing their thing. We’ve got a scalpel as murder weapon and a mobile phone, which may have prints on it. We assume it was the one used to call emergency services last night so we’ll be getting the tape for that this morning. We’ve got a brand new barbecue, which may provide a link to previous Reaper investigations. It may have been delivered to the Inghams as a prize. That’s a Reaper signature to gain access.’

‘What else?’

‘The bodies will be going to the mortuary within the hour and Dr Habib has got his team prepared…’

‘What about the survivor, Inspector Brook? This Jason Wallis. He’s now survived two Reaper attacks, shouldn’t we be looking at him as our killer?’

Brook looked doubtful. ‘Sir, I wish it was that simple…’ Brook broke off as DS Grant rejoined the group. At first her face had carried an expression of confusion, but this had given way to satisfaction as she approached. She locked her gaze onto Brook, a thin smile curling her lip.

‘It’s not possible, Chief Superintendent,’ explained Hudson, taking up the reins. ‘The surviving boy must have been seated throughout the attack. That’s why the back of his seat is clear of bloodstains. It would have been covered in the arterial spray of the boy next to him if he’d been moving around, cutting throats.’

‘I see,’ nodded Charlton. ‘Then why was he here? And why did he survive? Again.’

‘Those, sir, are two very good questions,’ agreed Brook.

Grant continued to stare at Brook, an odd grin deforming her features. ‘Maybe he’s some kind of mascot,’ she offered, making little effort to remove her gaze from Brook.

Charlton turned to her with a painful expression on his face. ‘Is that meant to be funny?’

‘No, sir,’ she replied. ‘Far from it.’

‘Someone trying to scare him, you mean?’ put in Noble.

‘Or impress him. Look at what I can do to your friends, any time I like.’ She shrugged. ‘Just a thought, but we have a living witness and it seems unlikely to be an oversight,’ she added.

Brook was the only one to notice her use of the word ‘we’.

‘Chief Inspector, is there anything you’d be doing that DI Brook’s not doing?’ asked Charlton. Noble took an audible breath and looked at Brook but he was staring at DS Grant and didn’t seem to be paying much attention.

‘Presumably you’re hunting up any possible CCTV around the area?’ Hudson inquired of Brook. ‘And Traffic film should be examined in case our doer isn’t local. Vans are good. Harder to see into.’

‘Both in hand,’ answered Noble for him.

‘Have you got ANPR cameras here yet?’ asked Hudson.

‘Not yet,’ said the Chief Super. ‘Maybe next year…’

‘Pity. But you can still check with the motorway boys who will have them,’ interrupted Hudson. ‘Not only can they automatically recognise number plates, but any potential criminal’s car will have a marker on them.’

‘Marker?’ asked Noble.

‘If an ANPR camera sees a stolen car that’s in the system, the computer will throw out an alert within seconds. They’re state of the art, Sergeant,’ observed Charlton, happier now to be on home ground.

‘He’s probably long gone by now,’ threw in Grant. ‘Or he could be in our midst,’ she added, continuing to burn her eyes into Brook.

‘The helicopter cameras couldn’t find anyone,’ said Noble, missing the insinuation.

‘And I don’t have to ask if your search will include bins, grates and unlocked sheds, do I, Damen?’ asked Hudson.

‘Looking for what?’ asked Charlton. ‘We’ve got the weapon.’

‘Well, we’re assuming he has transport, but if he doesn’t he’s going to need a change of clothes if he wants to get far without being noticed,’ replied Hudson. ‘Which might mean dumping what he has on.’

‘Excellent!’ nodded Charlton. ‘Excellent thought.’

‘We’re all over that, sir,’ countered Noble. ‘Standard procedure.’