Текст книги "Time to Die"

Автор книги: Caroline Mitchell

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-One

It was a common occurrence to be called into work on your days off, have them cancelled, or sometimes, be forcibly ordered to work overtime. Members of the police were not allowed to join a union for a reason, but spending more time at work than at home didn’t bother Jennifer, because for her, work was her home, and her colleagues were her family. She would lay her life on the line to protect them, and the people of Haven, whom she served. She always maintained a professional distance with her cases, and never came close to compromising an investigation. So why was she holding onto a dead girl’s phone? The high tech crime unit could examine the handset at an advanced level, tracking phone calls, texts, pictures, emails, and even maps and GPS location. In the case of a murder investigation, they could even recover deleted items. Jennifer consoled herself that all she was doing was looking through the evidence bag and pressing a few buttons. She already knew the password, having watched Emily type in four zeros to access her texts the last time they spoke.

With one percent of battery left, Jennifer accessed Emily’s call history. It did not turn up the treasure trove of evidence she had hoped for. Emily appeared to have been deleting her texts and pictures as she went along. Jennifer chewed the inside of her lip as she trawled through the phone. No internet history, no call history, and no pictures … she threw her head back in exasperation.

‘Everything all right?’ Zoe said, bobbing her head up over her computer screen.

Jennifer’s palm clasped her chest. ‘Oh! You frightened the life out of me.’

Zoe stood, looking a lot more comfortable in her casual clothes of baggy jeans and vest top. ‘I left my phone charger in my desk. You look guilty, whatcha up to?’

Jennifer trusted her new colleague enough to confess, and Zoe’s eyes lit up with interest as she relayed the series of events.

‘Flipping hell, girl, if delaying booking in evidence is the most dishonest thing you’ve done in your career then you’ve nothing to worry about. Now give it here.’

Jennifer handed the phone over. ‘The battery’s almost dead. I may as well book it in for the tech team.’

Zoe checked the bottom of the phone and gave Jennifer a knowing smile. ‘This …’ she said, walking over to a plug ‘… may just be your lucky day.’

Jennifer was about to point out that it was unlikely, given a young girl had been murdered, but silenced her words as Zoe plugged in her charger and pierced the other end through the bottom of the bag. It clicked neatly into the phone socket. ‘Look at that, fits perfectly. Now, let’s have a little lookie …’

‘I didn’t know you were a technical whizz,’ Jennifer said, watching Zoe’s fingers run nimbly through the various apps on the phone. ‘What department did you work on before you came here?’

‘I was a TP for six years for another force. Great job.’

‘Oh I see,’ Jennifer said. Suddenly it all made sense. Zoe’s discomfort in formal wear, her habit of swearing, and her discomfort at being in the limelight; test purchasers were used to go deep undercover, integrating themselves in communities of drug users and pushers. Chameleons of sorts, they had to think on their feet and have the ability to reinvent themselves to suit any situation. Invaluable to the drug squad, their covert cameras delivered damning footage at court, which secured major convictions. Jennifer was about to ask why she had left, when Zoe exclaimed.

‘Bingo! We’re in.’

Jennifer looked over her shoulder to see Zoe trawling Facebook, scrolling through the pictures of Emily during various nights out with what looked like a string of random men. None of them matched the description of the Raven, but she hadn’t expected to see him there anyway. She flicked to the side setting, finding the groups. They consisted of the usual free ads groups such as Things For Sale in Haven and Second Hand Goods. Then she caught sight of it, nestled among the other titles. Second Chance Group. Jennifer’s gasp caught in her throat. No wonder her internet searches had drawn a blank. She had been searching for every variation of The Reborners online. Unlike the other groups, access to the Second Chance Group was by invitation only.

Jennifer stood with her hands on her hips, painfully conscious of the time. ‘What do we do now? I have to go to Lexton for briefing. What will I tell them?’

Zoe tapped a black polished nail against her teeth. ‘Say nothing. We’ll book it in later.’

‘But what value is keeping it if you can’t get into the group?’ Jennifer said.

‘There’s always a way. I have a fake Facebook account from my old TP days. I’ll friend Emily through her account, then she’ll invite me in. I’m not saying they’ll give it up straight away, but leave it with me.’

‘But won’t the time of the request show up? Word will soon get around that she’s dead.’

Zoe’s eyes flicked up from the screen, alight with devilry. ‘Ways and means, babe … ways and means.’

Jennifer mulled it over. The Facebook account would have been authorised by the police and been above board, and if anything, their involvement may speed things along. ‘I’ll book it in as seized property and tell them I’ll drop it over to the tech team when briefing is over. Will that give you enough time?’

‘Yeah, for sure,’ Zoe said, logging onto the computer to open her corresponding Facebook account.

[#]

Jennifer was a small spoke in a very big wheel of officers investigating the murder, but she was grateful to be at briefing at all. Op Moonlight was limited and could not facilitate a complete murder investigation, but they provided invaluable advice and leads when it came to the investigative element of the case. She had access to the investigation without the burden of all the paperwork – or at least that’s what Jennifer told herself as she entered the briefing room. The truth was, she wanted everything. Her need for control had always been there, but she managed it by keeping a professional distance. Now all of that was forgotten, as the Raven crept under her skin. The briefing location was a stifling windowless room without the luxury of air conditioning, but the whiteboard that took up one full wall left Jennifer in no doubt that no stone would be left unturned in the hunt for Bert Bishop.

Those who could not find a seat had to stand, and Jennifer was pleased to see a seat reserved in her name. Her position in the team had been elevated, and for once, people were interested in what she had to say. Officers hastily scribbled notes, as tasks and handouts were passed among them. Lexton’s DCI Jamieson talked through the investigation to date. He was a thickset Scottish man, who took no bullshit but had a reputation for being fair. Jennifer was relieved to hear him announce that Christian Bowe’s ex-wife was off the hook. As outlined on the board, their prime suspect was now a killer who created self-fulfilling death prophecies. Jennifer may have been tempted to shoot a smug grin across to DC Hardwick, if she had not been furious at the needless deaths of Emily Clarke and her predecessors. Her anger was fuelled by the discovery of a scrunched-up flyer from a recent psychic fair, found in the bin in Emily Clarke’s bedroom. Jennifer’s eyes widened as the evidence bag was passed around the room.

‘I don’t believe this,’ she said, re-reading the same line of the flyer over and over again, through the transparent bag. ‘I was there that day, I must have just missed him.’

DCI Jamieson unbuttoned his suit jacket and hung it on the chair. ‘Probably. So far, this man has passed through Haven unnoticed. But to quote Doctor Locard, “every contact leaves a trace”.’ As if to assure himself more than anyone else, he added, ‘It won’t be long before we catch up with him.’

But Jennifer wasn’t so sure. She believed that the best way to find Raven would be through The Reborners. While she relayed everything she knew in briefing, she fell short at giving them the name of the Facebook group. She justified her actions by telling herself it was the right thing to do. Operation Moonlight would investigate the Second Chance Group, and she’d infiltrate it herself if she had to.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jennifer did not normally telephone her sister before calling over, but her gut told her not to drop by without checking first. She was grateful for Will’s invitation of a late supper, and would have just enough time to drop over the kids’ Easter eggs if she left soon. Having to work a rest day on such a harrowing case had heightened her stress levels, and she needed some normality to ground her, before going to see Will.

She switched on the house lamps as the dark closed in, and clicked up the heating dial a couple of notches. It may have been spring, but a chill was still capable of descending, and the high ceilings in her Victorian semi devoured the heat. The underfloor heating warmed the soles of her feet as she waited for her sister to pick up the phone. She was about to hang up when Amy answered, and Jennifer detected a slight edge in her voice in her greeting.

’Hey sis, I was thinking of popping over with Josh’s Easter egg, will you be in?’

Silence descended on the other side. Jennifer was about to speak when her sister piped up.

‘Em, sorry, could you leave it until tomorrow? I’m … not free this evening.’

Jennifer’s fingers wrapped tightly around the phone as her stomach clenched. ‘It’s dad, isn’t it, you’re meeting up with him.’

Amy spoke in a flat voice. ‘I don’t want to argue with you, just come tomorrow instead, all right?’

Jennifer bit her bottom lip, holding back the words that would only hurt her later. ‘OK. I’ve … I’ve got a toy for Lily, I didn’t think you’d want her eating chocolate yet.’

The relief in her sister’s voice was audible. ‘I’m sure she’ll love it. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?’

Jennifer rested the house phone back into its cradle. Pulling the clips from her hair, she allowed the glossy strands to tumble down her back. She threaded her fingers through to her scalp, massaging where the clips had dug in too tightly. She needed a day in a spa, or somewhere nice, where she could relax and forget all about family, work, or the Raven. But who was she kidding? Having to sit and relax for hours at a time would drive her crazy. It was just like now, when she was trying to think of anything except her father. Yet the more she tried to drive him from her mind, the more space he occupied.

Jennifer eyed the children’s presents. The purple and yellow Easter egg packaging looked out of place in her minimalistic home. She could put it in the boot of the car, in preparation for her visit tomorrow night. She stroked the fur of the soft bunny rabbit she had bought for Lily. Thumper was becoming her favourite Disney character, and she could imagine her niece’s chubby little fingers enveloping the toy in a hug.

Jennifer grabbed her car keys and locked her front door behind her. The street lights flicked on and a cool breeze played with her hair as she shoved the presents in the boot of her car. She toyed with the car keys. Dad was probably at Amy’s right now, having made the journey from wino city or wherever he lived. She snorted. Just what business had he, going around to her sister’s and breaking up a happy home? She found herself climbing into the front seat, and placing her keys in the ignition. Clicking her safety belt she adjusted the mirror, catching sight of her harassed reflection staring back accusingly at her. Just what the hell are you thinking? Going to see your father when you tore a strip off your sister for doing the same thing.

‘It’s not as if I’m going to talk to him,’ Jennifer mumbled to the mirror. ‘If he turns up pissed, I’ll call for backup and have him taken away.’

Jennifer parked her car behind a van next door from her sister’s. Amy was unlikely to be looking out for her, and the housing estate streetlights offered a certain camouflage as they tinged the parked cars in the same orange hue. It reminded her of some of the covert jobs she had been on, camping out in some old dear’s home to watch the neighbours from their bedroom window. They had been so obliging, laying on ham sandwiches and a pot of tea before making themselves scarce. Jennifer was not so sure she’d be as accommodating if a couple of police officers wanted to intrude on her privacy. The blinds were closed in Amy’s home, with the usual flash of blue and white filtering through the curtains as their television entertained the children. She turned off the car radio as the seven o’clock news ended. Joshua would be in bed soon, and she longed to give him a goodnight cuddle.

She checked her phone for the tenth time. She had not heard anything since Zoe’s call earlier in the day. Pleased she had gained access to the group, she was spending her evening scrolling through old discussions. There was lots of talk of second chances and starting again, but members were warned not to give away the location of their meetings online. Such activity would result in an instant ban, and Zoe mused that much of the information was exchanged through private messaging. For now, she was integrating herself as a troubled teen seeking help.

Jennifer slid her phone back into her pocket, returning her attention to Amy’s house as the minutes ticked by. Twiddling with the ends of her hair, she wondered if she had it wrong. Perhaps Amy had just arranged to telephone her father, or Skype him with the kids. They certainly wouldn’t have wanted Jennifer’s face popping up during that conversation. She grasped the keys to turn over the ignition when a sporty-looking BMW drove past, with a recently registered plate. Jennifer narrowed her eyes as it braked, then parked next to the kerb outside Amy’s home.

Jennifer scooted down in her seat, her stomach doing somersaults. She watched as Amy’s front door opened, and she walked out to greet her visitors, wearing what looked like a new dress. Her sister’s hair was tied up in a ponytail, and she beamed as the car doors opened. A tall blonde woman stepped out onto the pavement, closely followed by the driver, who took her sister in a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head as they broke apart.

Jennifer clasped her hand in front of her mouth as bile clawed its way up her throat. Seeing her father again brought all the old feelings flooding back, the anxiety she had fought so hard to control was now sending her thoughts into a whirlwind of confusion. His blonde companion kissed Amy on the cheek, and it was clear this was not their first meeting.

He looked well, more than well, he looked handsome. His dark wavy hair was now cropped neatly at the sides. His moustache had disappeared, and his clean-shaven face revealed a strong, square jawline. No longer was he walking with shoulders hunched over, hands gripped around a can of beer. Smartly dressed in a black jacket and trousers, he carried himself with a self-assured walk, and as his hand found his companion’s waist, Jennifer guessed they were a couple. She was wearing a blue tie dress with matching heels, and carried herself with an air of sophistication.

‘Crafty cow,’ Jennifer muttered under her breath as Amy waved them inside. Anger, sadness, and dejection sank their teeth into her being in equal measure. The timing could not have been worse. The front door closed behind them, and Jennifer was left alone. She inhaled a ragged breath, wiping away her involuntary tears. She had seen everything she needed to see. Amy had welcomed their father and was happy to forget their past in order to do so. But the past also included her. Perhaps this was the way it was going to be: if Jennifer didn’t come on board then Amy would slowly push her out of her life, sacrificing their relationship in preference for their father. Jennifer turned her car as fat raindrops began to dapple her windscreen. If she couldn’t help her family then she could at least help others. It was time to make contact with the Raven.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The recent spring weather seemed a dim memory as the wind threatened the newly formed buds of the elm trees lining the path into the park. Jennifer huddled under her umbrella, the rain bouncing hard against the pavement. The legs of her trousers were already soaked through, and she hoped her attempts at communicating with the Raven would be fruitful. She could not risk invoking anything in her home, and on such a foul evening, the park would be deserted. Shaking her umbrella, she took refuge inside the small wooden shelter overlooking the children’s playground. Black clouds rumbled forth, casting the gloomy space into a monochrome grey. She hoped George had gotten himself down to the local homeless shelter. Even he had noticed the ravens watching her from the trees as they spoke earlier in the day.

She couldn’t leave it a minute longer. She had to try to make contact in whatever way she could.

As the wind howled through the chain-linked swings it felt as if she was the only person alive. Jennifer sat on the damp wooden bench, preparing to send feelers out into the darkness. It was a practice she had finely tuned in the last few months. Her unearthly communication was not just for speaking to the dead. If a living person was of a strong psychic nature and attuned to her frequency, she may be able to gently ease herself into their senses. But doing so was fraught with danger, used only as a last resort. She rested her hands on her lap and closed her eyes. Asking for protection, her breathing settled into a slow, steady flow. She sent her thoughts to the Raven. Her plan was to seek out his location then withdraw.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she relaxed her limbs, searching the darkness for a face. She blinked, pushing visions of Will to the back of her mind, wishing he wasn’t such a distraction. Her breathing grew shallow as she focused on what appeared to be a fuzzy tunnel. No, it was a bridge. A set of rosary beads swung from side to side from a windscreen mirror. A country and western singer crooned in the background about standing by your man, and a gruff voice chuckled to himself. The vehicle rattled, making a whistling noise where the air filtered through the windows, and the car seat bounced with every bump in the road. She tried to look out for signs. Where was he? She tentatively pushed on, trying to focus on his face. The driver scratched behind his ear but the itch crawled to the back of his neck, and then his right arm. Jennifer gritted her teeth as the itch spread through her, crawling under her skin. He licked his furred teeth and she felt the slime on her tongue. It was almost too much to bear.

While I nodded, gently napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door, his voice whispered in the darkness.

‘Who are you?’ Jennifer whispered the thoughts in her mind, gently coaxing. Psychic communication was not like being in a police interview room. Demanding answers would not get her anywhere.

The thought returned felt razor sharp. You come knocking on my door and you ask me who I am?

‘You have made yourself known to me prior to this, so I would argue it is you knocking on my door,’ Jennifer said, unable to resist the dig. She sensed his amusement as he delivered the answer.

Why I’m Raven of course.

Jennifer swallowed, feeling like she was falling into the abyss of his mind. But she could not withdraw now, not yet. ‘Did you kill Emily Clarke?’ her thoughts whispered seductively. There was no place for anger in this world, and she sent her words like silken messengers rubbing against his rugged skin.

Maybe, maybe not, a faint echo of laughter, carried with a layer of dark intent.

‘What do you want, Raven? Tell me, perhaps I can help …’

You’ll find out soon enough. But do not come to me uninvited again …

Jennifer ignored his warning and probed further for clues, snaking through his energy. The vehicle came to an abrupt halt as the driver gathered strength. An earthy scent found her, not the fresh smell of the rain-sodden leaves in the park, but the smell of rotting tree roots, its bark infested with insects. By the time she felt the Raven’s energy build, it was too late to recoil. A raspy voice sent daggered shockwaves through her brain. The sound was deafening. GET OUT little pig! I said, GET OUT! Raven screamed, the painful impact throwing a stunned Jennifer back to reality. Clasping her hands over her ears, she bent over until the shockwaves ebbed. She groaned as her senses returned to the physical world, but the transition had been too quick. It felt like squeezing sweaty feet into a pair of ill-fitting shoes, and she sucked in cooling breaths, focusing on the rain tapping on the roof of the shelter, a hundred tiny nails drawing her attention. She ran her tongue over her teeth, relieved to find them clean, and free of the taint of tobacco she had tasted minutes before. But she desperately needed to shower, and scrub away the feeling of being in another man’s skin.

Jennifer reflected upon the contact on her way home. The rosary beads could give a connection to religious undertones and he seemed to be driving a car. Anxiety had begun to nest as the crawling sensation under her skin refused to leave. She inhaled deeply and breathed out slowly, releasing the rising tension. The dark voice carried a sense of urgency that worried her. You’ll find out soon enough. He wasn’t giving up. She scratched the back of her neck, focusing on the shower waiting for her at home. Will had invited her around and she was grateful for the distraction. She had spent too long in the Raven’s energy, and would be darkly rewarded by the feel of the old man’s body for several hours to come.

[#]

Jennifer glanced at the light in Will’s living room window. It was nice to be looked after, and all the old anxieties about their relationship slowly loosened their grip. Life was too short, and she had decided to allow things to take their natural course, whatever it may be. The smell of chopped onions and garlic met her in the hall as he opened the door. Will looked relaxed and happy in his tracksuit bottoms and a white t-shirt. It complemented his broad shoulders, and she threw him a smile as she handed him a bottle of red wine.

Will squinted at the label, although she knew he hadn’t a clue about wine. ‘Thanks. This … er … looks good. I hope you’re hungry. Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll clean up in a minute.’

‘Don’t be daft, you don’t need to apologise to me,’ Jennifer said, averting her eyes from the dirty saucepans and dishes littering the counter. Will gave her a look that said he knew better, and she gladly took a glass of wine from his outstretched hand.

‘Thanks, it smells delicious,’ she said, sniffing the curry and jasmine rice bubbling on the stove. ‘Do you want to talk about the case, or is this a work-free zone?’

‘Feel free,’ Will said, tasting the curry before washing the spoon and laying it on the side. Jennifer smiled. No doubt he was tempted to plunge it straight back in the pot, and was doing his best to appease her.

‘I tried to make contact but I didn’t get very far. He knew I was on to him.’ Jennifer shuddered at the memory.

Frowning, Will turned off the gas. ‘I can’t even imagine what it’s like trying to communicate like that, but for God’s sake be careful. The person stalking you is a killer.’

‘If he wanted to hurt me he would have made a move by now.’

‘Yes well, keep your distance, and let the MIT get on with the investigation,’ Will said, taking two warmed plates out of the oven.

Jennifer drained her glass. ‘I’m a copper, Will. I’ll do exactly what you would do in my shoes.’ That said, she did not relish the thought of further communication. Memories of the Raven’s scaly neck and fur-lined teeth had made her scrub her skin until it was bright red. It was only after brushing her teeth and slathering her skin in oils and body lotions that she had begun to feel herself again. The Raven’s voice had dark roots, and although human, he was no stranger to the supernatural. Whatever the man was carrying within, there would be no reasoning with it.

‘From what I can see the only hope they have of stopping this guy is finding him in the area or if he slips up the next time he does it.’

‘Mmmm,’ Jennifer said, keeping details of the online group to herself. She breathed in the delicious aroma of spices as Will filled her plate. She owed it to herself to try to enjoy what was left of the evening. Since the advent of Op Moonlight, she felt she had turned a corner, gaining in strength and accepting herself for who she was. She couldn’t allow the Raven to drive her back to the dark, lonely place she once frequented.

She knew she shone like a beacon when it came to psychic energies, and questions came faster than she could answer them. She could have drawn the killer right to Haven. Was he really predicting their futures or just making it happen? And if every incident preceded a reading then surely all people had to do was to keep away from tarot readers.

‘Do me a favour,’ Jennifer said to Will as they finished their desserts. ‘Ring your family and tell them not to accept any card readings, no matter how charming the person offering. I’ve told my sister to do the same.’

Will gave a chuckle, then realised she was serious. ‘I’ll do it but they’ll think I’ve lost my marbles.’

The words stung and Jennifer refilled her wine glass. ‘Best you warn them just the same.’ It was not difficult to see where Will inherited his scepticism.

Jennifer listened as Will spoke to his mother on the phone. She envied their closeness, drawing in a soft breath as a wave of sadness overcame her. What she would give for such warmth, for her mother to hug her and tell her everything would be all right. But her childhood hugs were a faded memory.

She scratched the back of her neck as she recalled her earlier contact. The Raven was still in Haven. Shadows drew in around her and warned caution. But as she recalled the menace in his words, she knew it might already be too late.