Bay of the Dead (5 page)

Kirsty had the expression of a little kid being dragged away from a funfair. 'Just a couple more minutes,' she pleaded.

'What's the point? We won't find out anything. It's not like they're going to make an announce—'

The end of her sentence was cut off by the roar of a powerful engine and the screech of brakes from behind them. She turned to see a shiny black SUV with smoked windows, lines of flickering blue lights edging the windscreen. The front doors opened and two men jumped out. One was a handsome, chisel-jawed man who looked to be somewhere in his late thirties. With his army greatcoat, navy blue shirt, braces, chinos and boots, he reminded Sophie of an old-fashioned hero from a boy's adventure comic. His companion was younger, grim-faced but kind of sweet-looking. He wore an immaculate charcoal-grey suit, a white shirt and a pink-and-purple striped silk tie, and was fiddling with his cufflinks as he emerged from the SUV. Sophie noticed that both men had fancy little Bluetooth devices attached to their ears, and wondered if they were 'spooks', like off the telly.

'Make way, ladies and gentlemen. No photographs please,' the older man called in an American accent, cutting through the crowd. There was a wide and rather charming smile on his face and, whilst his voice was jocular, Sophie sensed that there was steel beneath his words.

Beside her, Kirsty was staring at the new arrivals. 'Lush,' she breathed.

They watched the two guys reach the police cordon and have a quick conversation with the officer on duty. They were quickly allowed through and hurried towards the yacht, the coat of the older man flowing behind him like a superhero's cape.

'I wonder who they are,' said Sophie.

'Dunno,' Kirsty replied dreamily, 'but they can enter my restricted zone any day.'

'OK, boys and girls,' Jack said heartily, 'what have you got for us?'

Ianto saw Detective Sergeant Swanson raise her eyebrows. She was a tall, slim, beautiful black woman in an immaculately tailored grey suit. The beads in her braided hair clicked gently together whenever she moved her head. She and Torchwood – and she and Jack in particular – had a love/hate relationship, which Jack seemed to revel in. In fact, Jack had once remarked that you could cook eggs on the heat of the sexual tension between him and the statuesque policewoman. Ianto hadn't been sure whether Jack was joking, and therefore couldn't now work out whether he ought to be jealous or not.

'Well, well, look what the cat's dragged in,' Swanson said.

She was standing with a colleague, a shorter, pudgy man in a wrinkled blue suit, who sniggered.

'Which must make
you
the cat,' Jack said, and raised his eyebrows. 'You got the costume to go with that?'

Swanson looked outraged. 'You don't honestly think
I
called you, do you, Jack? Why the hell would
I
want Torchwood stomping all over
my
investigation?'

'Maybe you just can't resist my baby blue eyes,' Jack said.

'Oh,
please
,' Swanson replied.

'It was a Detective Inspector Myers who called us,' Ianto said a little stiffly.

Swanson pulled a face. 'That figures.'

'He said there were some unusual aspects to the case. In fact, his actual words were, "This one's weirder than a three-headed monkey."'

Jack looked unimpressed. 'I dated a three-headed monkey once. What a summer
that
was!'

'Is this just one big joke to you, Jack?' Swanson said. 'Because it isn't to me. Five boys have died here tonight.'

The smile slipped from Jack's face. All at once he was sombre, business-like. 'What happened?'

'Why don't you see for yourselves?' Swanson said. There was a challenge in her voice as she added, 'I hope you've got strong stomachs.'

Jack flashed her a look, and he and Ianto hurried along the jetty towards the illuminated yacht. A team of forensics examiners, ghostly in their white all-in-ones, were moving around the deck, photographing evidence and making notes. Even from some distance away, Ianto saw that the gleaming fibreglass structure of the central cabin area was splashed liberally with blood. As he and Jack approached the boat, one of the officers spotted them and hurried over.

'Can I help you?'

'Captain Jack Harkness – Torchwood,' Jack said importantly.

'Ianto Jones,' said Ianto.

'Oh, so
you're
the famous Torchwood, are you?' said the officer, trying to look blasé. 'I'm Guy Baker, SOCO on this investigation. I take it you know the rules?'

'Rules are for—' Jack began, but Ianto jumped in.

'Don't touch anything. Don't contaminate the crime scene,' he recited.

'That's it.' Baker wafted a hand, as though inviting them aboard. 'Aside from that, have fun.'

Jack and Ianto stepped across the divide between jetty and deck, Ianto trying to keep his expression neutral as he looked around. There were pools and splashes of blood all over the deck, not to mention a copious amount of human remains. Most of the remains were unidentifiable – nothing but shreds and gobbets of mangled flesh and bone – but here and there were body parts that were patently, stomach-churningly human. Ianto saw a hand with two fingers missing, but part of the arm still attached; a section of gnawed ribcage; a long bone that might have been a femur; a head whose face was mercifully obscured by blood-matted hair.

Grim-faced, Jack asked Baker, 'So what are we looking at here? Animal attack?'

Baker shook his head. 'No. Believe it or not, the killers were human.'

Jack and Ianto glanced at each other. 'How many?' asked Jack.

'So far we've identified bite marks from thirteen different sets of teeth.'

'Unlucky for some,' Ianto murmured.

'And the victims were killed how?' Jack asked.

Baker spread his hands, as if he couldn't quite believe his own findings. 'As far as we can tell, they were simply. . . torn apart. Evidence suggests that the attackers used their bare hands to murder their victims and then cannibalised the bodies. Devoured them, in fact.'

Ianto placed a hand over his mouth and said nothing. He was thinking of cannibals up in the Brecon Beacons, not long after Gwen had joined Torchwood. The memory was not a happy one.

Jack was equally silent for a moment, and then he said, 'Detective Swanson said there were five victims?'

Baker nodded. 'We think they were all Cardiff University students. We found a couple of NUS cards among the debris.'

'What about the perpetrators?' Ianto asked.

'No sign. We think they must have pulled up in a boat alongside the yacht.'

'Won't there be a record of them in that case?' said Jack.

'We're looking into that now.'

'OK. Well, keep up the good work, Guy – and keep us informed. And now, if you don't mind, we'd like a little look round on our own.'

Baker did not exactly huff, but it was clear he did not appreciate being dismissed by Jack. As soon as he had moved away, Ianto took his PDA out of his pocket and turned it on.

'Anything?' Jack asked.

Ianto consulted the results scrolling across the display reader. 'There's residual Rift energy,' he said, 'but the percentage is almost low enough to be considered negligible.'

Jack looked thoughtful. 'So what do you think? That human beings did this?'

'Don't see why not. They were probably high on drugs. A cult, maybe.'

Jack gave him a look.

'What?' said Ianto, as if he was being accused of something.

'You know what I'm thinking, don't you?' Jack said.

Ianto shook his head. 'No, Jack. It's ridiculous. You
know
it's ridiculous.'

Almost smugly Jack said, 'On our way here we field a call from Gwen, who says that she and Rhys have been attacked by a walking corpse. And now here we are surrounded by evidence of an attack in which the perpetrators used their
bare hands
as murder weapons and then cannibalised their victims. What does that suggest to
you
, Ianto?'

Unhappily Ianto shook his head. 'It's crazy, Jack. It's horror-movie hokum. You know it is.'

'And
you
know what we're up against here, don't you?'

'No, I don't. Don't say it, Jack. Don't use the—'

'Zombies!' Jack exclaimed.

'— zed word,' Ianto concluded miserably.

FOUR

PC Andy Davidson took a left into Gabalfa Road. There was no need to scan the house numbers to pinpoint the source of the disturbance. An ambulance had already arrived, and was parked at the kerb, hazards flashing. Some people had spilled out of the house and were standing in the overgrown front garden, or on the pavement. Most looked drunk and confused, though one or two were arguing amongst themselves, gesticulating angrily at the house and each other.

'You all right?' Andy asked, glancing at Dawn Stratton, his new partner.

Dawn rolled her pale green eyes. 'I've already told you, Andy, you don't have to mollycoddle me.'

'Only asking,' Andy said, and switched off the engine. 'It's for my benefit as much as yours.'

'I'm fine,' she said firmly, and opened the door.

The call had come in five minutes earlier – a disturbance at a party in a student-occupied house. According to the caller, a gatecrasher had attacked and wounded a female partygoer.

Andy and Dawn strode across to the ambulance, Andy fending off comments from a couple of the more abrasive drunks. The back doors of the vehicle were standing open and a yellow-jacketed paramedic was inside, tending to a young girl.

'Hi,' Andy said, leaning in. He winced at the sight of the wound on the girl's arm. 'That looks nasty. Bitten, were you?'

The girl nodded. She was slightly built, pale and trembling with shock. The crescent of teeth-marks on her forearm was deep and still leaking blood.

'Who did this to you?' Andy asked gently.

The girl licked her lips. In a small voice she said, 'Dunno. Just some guy. He was like an animal. Think he was high on something.'

'And where's this guy now?' asked Dawn, standing at Andy's shoulder.

'In the cellar. Some of the other guys locked him in. He was a nutter. Going for everybody.'

'Don't worry, love, we'll sort him out,' Andy said. 'Any other injuries?' he asked the paramedic.

'Just minor stuff,' the paramedic replied. 'Cuts and scratches mainly. My colleague's inside, dealing with those.'

Andy thanked him, and then he and Dawn walked up the path and through the open door of the terraced house. The second paramedic was at the bottom of the stairs, crouched beside a girl who was perched on the third step, holding her blonde hair away from a pair of thin scratches on the side of her neck. The two police officers acknowledged the paramedic with a nod and stepped into a crowded room on their left. It was a typical student place – shabby decor; threadbare furniture; posters on the walls; cans, bottles and overflowing ashtrays cluttering every surface. The dimly lit room stank of cigarette smoke, and was so hot that the windows streamed with condensation. Music was blasting out of a sound system in the corner. Andy recognised it – he had the CD at home. Kings of Leon.
Only By The Night
.

'Can you turn that down a bit, please?' he asked a girl with dyed red hair and a nose stud, who was clutching a bottle of cider. The girl complied without a murmur, and Andy pointed at an open door in the far corner, which afforded enough of a glimpse of the room beyond to suggest that it led to a brightly lit kitchen. 'Cellar through here, is it?'

Heads nodded dutifully. As Andy and Dawn crossed to the door, the crowd parted before them.

The kitchen was narrow, and looked out on to a bricked-in backyard. Beside the greasy oven, cans and bottles bobbed in a plastic bath full of iced water. There were more bottles stacked on the work surfaces, and two black plastic dustbins full of empties stood by the back door. There were six guys in the kitchen, looking tense. One was swigging red wine out of a bottle; the rest were clutching cans of beer. Two were smoking roll-ups. A thin haze of blue-grey smoke hovered near the ceiling.

'Hello, fellers,' Andy said amiably. 'I gather you've got a bloke locked in your cellar?'

As if on cue, there was an irregular tattoo of thumps on the blue-painted door tucked away in an alcove at the back of the room. Accompanying the thumps was a low moan.

'Is he all right in there?' Dawn asked.

'He's a mentalist,' one of the guys muttered.

'Stinks an' all,' added another.

Andy crossed to the door and rested his forehead against the wood. 'Hello in there,' he said. 'This is the police. We're here to investigate an alleged assault. Could you tell me your name, please?'