Steven Dunne - The Reaper

Brook nodded. ‘If we add what’s in the glasses to the bottle, some will be missing. More than Bobby and Mrs Wallis can account for.’ Habib smiled his assent. ‘Just because he left no trace of having drunk any wine, doesn’t mean he didn’t raise a glass of his own to celebrate then take it with him.’

‘Christ,’ muttered Noble.

‘Only a small one. He wouldn’t want to contravene Her Majesty’s drink driving laws,’ added Habib, with a guilty chortle.

‘No,’ agreed Brook. ‘He wouldn’t want to get himself in too deep.’ He was pleased to see Noble taking offence. ‘Go on, doctor.’

‘Well. Let’s see.’ Habib adjusted his glasses. ‘The blood on the wall, the writing, is from the girl I think, AB negative, quite rare. Your lab people will have to confirm that as well but the smears on her neck indicate that someone has pushed their fingers into the wound.’

‘Have you got anything we can use to catch this man, doctor?’ asked Noble impatiently.

Dr Habib smiled back at him. ‘Yes, yes. Of course. Two things, don’t you know?’ Habib removed his glasses and looked grim. ‘Bad business, bad business,’ he said shaking his head. ‘How old was the girl, Inspector?’

‘Eleven. Why?’

‘Well, when I said there was no sign of sexual assault that wasn’t strictly true.’

‘You mean she was raped.’

‘Oh no. I mean. Well yes. How can I put this?’

‘Any way you like, doctor. As long as it’s quick.’

‘The girl’s hymen was no longer intact.’ Again Habib turned to Noble to spell it out for him. ‘She wasn’t a virgin, Sergeant.’

‘The bastard raped her!’ said Noble, through gritted teeth.

‘Yes, Sergeant. As a minor, legally speaking, she must have been raped. But…’

Brook nodded. He knew where this was going. ‘But not last night.’

Habib pointed his forefinger at Brook. ‘Exactly, Inspector Brook. It is just so.’

‘You mean…?’ Noble was taking his time. He hadn’t been around as long as Brook.

‘Yes, John. That’s what he means.’

‘Who could do that?’

‘Assuming the girl wasn’t in a consensual sexual relationship…’

‘She was eleven years old, for Christ’s sake,’ pleaded Noble.

‘Well then.’

‘You mean her father…?’

‘It fits. There was a girl in one of the Reaper killings in London. The father was a pimp. She’d been sexually abused. Fathers and daughters, John-it’s an old song.’ Brook thought of Terri and just as quickly pushed it out of his mind. ‘And it would explain where Jason gets his own violent inclinations.’

‘I suppose,’ agreed Noble softly.

His incomprehension touched Brook, reminded him how young he was. ‘What was the second thing, doctor?’

‘The second thing?’ Habib had been momentarily distracted by the bad business. ‘Yes. You’re looking for a medical man. An older, medical man, I would say: someone who may have access to a dispensary and has a sophisticated knowledge of drugs. Remember there was no struggle? There was a good reason. All the victims were poisoned-Scopolamine, sometimes called Hyoscine. It’s a narcotic and mydriatic. It induces sleepiness and dilation of the pupil…’ he added for Noble’s benefit. ‘…in the eye.’

‘There are also traces of morphine. Doses are very difficult to get right so he’d have to know what he was doing. We’ve found traces ingested by all the victims. It could have been administered in powdered extract on top of the pizzas. It would look a bit like parmesan cheese or salt. From the stomach contents I’d say the girl ate from only one pizza, the parents had pieces of them all-they had pepperoni, prawns, ham-in their stomachs.’

‘Anything else?’

‘There was enough to kill, which is rare with Scopolamine, but I’m supposing this wouldn’t be too big a problem for him. They wouldn’t have been able to ingest it all before they started feeling unwell, so the parents didn’t receive a fatal dose. However, it would take a lot less to kill the girl and she would probably have died whether her throat was cut or not.’

‘And would it paralyse them?’ asked Brook.

‘Most likely. If conscious they’d find it quite difficult to move, though not impossible. They’d be seriously disorientated, somnolent and delirious.’

‘Why do you say an older man?’ asked Noble.

‘Because of the history of the two drugs. Scopolamine used to be combined with morphine as an anaesthetic but that was many years ago, before the Second World War. It induced an effect known as Twilight Sleep. The same procedure was used in childbirth in the sixties but it fell out of use because the patient would be conscious but unable to feel or move which often caused complications. The parents had a larger dose than the girl. It’s almost as if he knew which pizza they were going to eat.’

‘He did,’ said Noble. ‘He rang to take their orders.’

‘Blimey! This gentleman’s very good.’

‘Would it affect the vocal chords?’

‘Indeed it is so, Inspector. How would you know that?’

‘They weren’t gagged.’

‘That’s right. They would have been suffering from laryngeal paralysis.’ Habib turned to explain himself to Noble but was halted by a raised hand.

‘I understand,’ he countered.

‘Quite so, Sergeant,’ Habib nodded. ‘Although in this case, suffered is the wrong word.’ Brook was broken from his thoughts. ‘They wouldn’t have felt much. A mild discomfort, perhaps, even when they were cut open.’

‘They didn’t suffer?’

‘Very unlikely.’

‘Well done Wendy…PC Jones,’ Brook muttered in appreciation before glancing covertly at Noble to see if his carelessness had registered. It appeared not. ‘Anything else, doc?’

‘Not for the moment. I’ll let you have my report as soon as it’s typed up. We’re short-staffed…’

‘Thank you, doctor. We’ll take a break before the ID. Let you get on with things.’

Brook started to follow Noble before turning back to the doctor. He hesitated and looked to the retreating Noble, who held the door for him before realising Brook wasn’t behind him.

‘Get me a coffee, would you, John? There’s a machine round the corner.’

Brook waited for him to disappear before facing the expectant Habib. ‘Doctor.’ He hesitated again. He was about to commit a severe breach of protocol. If he wasn’t careful he wouldn’t have any friends left in the Force. ‘Inspector Greatorix asked me to run my eye over the Annie Sewell case, if it’s ready. I know you’re short-staffed…’ he interjected to forestall yet another airing for Habib’s favourite topic.

‘Bad business, Inspector. Bad business. Do you want to give him the report? I’ve got it here,’ he said, rummaging for another folder.

‘Well no. He said to take a photocopy and to be sure not to tell him that I’d got one.’ Brook spoke as emphatically as required and lifted his eyebrows into a quizzical half-smile. Dr Habib stopped and looked at him carefully to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood. Then he broke into a broad eighteen-carat grin.

‘Inspector Brook, you’re such a naughty boy, very naughty indeed. Take this one,’ he said, shaking his head in amused disbelief. ‘I have other copies. But if he finds out…’ he shouted at Brook’s back.

Brook raised a hand to acknowledge.

‘Problem, sir?’ Noble gingerly held out the hot liquid in the too-thin cup.

‘Not at all, John. Just thought I’d better tell the good doctor not to suggest looking for an elderly Asian medical expert in his final report. We wouldn’t want him ending up in a cell, would we? Throw that garbage away, John. Are you trying to give me heartburn?’