Cold Sacrifice (36 page)
Authors: Leigh Russell
‘What is it, love? You’re shivering. Are you sickening for something? Shall I call the doctor?’
He wanted to yell at her to stop asking questions, but his teeth were chattering.
‘I’m fine,’ he assured her, gritting his teeth so he could speak.
‘You don’t look fine.’
He remembered the demented killer chanting, ‘Fine, fine, we’re all fine, everything’s fine, fine, fine!’ and wished he had chosen a different word.
‘It’s all right,’ he insisted. ‘I’m just exhausted. And by the way, I got my promotion.’
He hadn’t intended to share the news when he was too exhausted to argue with her. The words just slipped out of his mouth. She might not like it but she had to find out sooner or later, and he was too tired to care anymore. They might as well get it over with. If she stormed out of the house he would simply stagger up to bed and go to sleep.
‘You mean you’re going to be an inspector?’
‘Yes, but the thing is, Bev –’
‘So I can tell my parents?’
Ian recalled what Rob had said, and smiled.
‘Yes, you can tell your parents, but we’re going to have to move.’
‘Move?’
She turned, phone in hand, waiting.
This was the moment to tell her about York. She was elated about his promotion, and concerned about his shivering. Her pride and her pity combined to put him in an unassailable position – and he bottled it. Again.
‘We may have to move,’ he hedged.
There would be hell to pay when she discovered he had sent off an application for the North Yorkshire post without consulting her first.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he reassured her. ‘It won’t be Siberia. It probably won’t even be very far away.’
He wasn’t sure why he was lying so shamelessly, but he couldn’t stop himself.
‘I’ll just call my mum, and then I’ll phone the Chinese. Why don’t you go and have a long soak in the bath?’
He nodded, but didn’t move.
‘We’re going to York,’ he announced suddenly, surprising himself as well as her. ‘It’s York.’
Slowly she put the phone down. Her voice was oddly calm.
‘York? But you just said –’
‘York,’ he repeated. ‘We’re going to York.’
‘But York’s hundreds of miles away,’ she protested. ‘We can’t just go – what about the house?’
With a burst of energy he jumped up, pulled her towards him and kissed her, hard, on the mouth. When she tried to wriggle free he held on to her and whispered in her ear.
‘There are lots of houses in York and I’m going to buy the biggest and best house in the whole city for my lovely gorgeous sexy wife. I’m going to whisk her away from her boring job, and her interfering family, and take her to live in a palace of a house in York. Because that’s what detective inspectors do!’
He took a step away and punched the air with a triumphant cry. He had done it!
‘Are you pissed?’
‘Intoxicated by the thought of getting you away from here and having you all to myself.’ Suddenly serious, he asked, ‘we are going to make this work, aren’t we?’
‘Go and have a bath,’ she replied. ‘You stink. I want to phone my mother and tell her about your promotion!’ She grinned and patted him fondly on the cheek. ‘Detective Inspector Peterson!’
Grinning, he went upstairs, whistling.
N
O ONE SPOKE WHILE
the leader’s eyes were shut. They could see he was thinking. Patiently they waited until he sat up and looked slowly around the room. Each of the disciples trembled as his gaze rested on them in turn, penetrating their deepest desires and fears. He smiled sadly.
‘We are beleaguered by lies and ignorance,’ he said softly. ‘Our enemies seek to destroy us. Take no notice. Prison walls cannot contain our souls. The day is coming when all nations of the earth will follow the gods. It may not be in our lifetimes, but we will never give up the one true cause. Assassin carried out his mission for all of us. For our sakes he is suffering.’ He raised his voice. ‘We will not forget his sacrifice.’
‘We will not forget his sacrifice,’ they repeated in unison.
‘We will see him in paradise.’
‘We will see him in paradise.’
The leader raised his hand for silence. He looked slowly around the room once more. His loving gaze rested on each of his disciples in turn. Calmed by his tender smile they fell silent. The leader lowered his head and they waited patiently. The gods willed it. The disciples accepted their good fortune and drank from the cup of life. One by one their shoulders drooped and their eyes glazed over as divine ecstasy flowed through their souls. Whatever happened to their brother in captivity, his soul would find eternal peace.
‘Our brother’s sacrifice transcends the cup of life,’ the leader said. ‘He will be granted everlasting joy.’
‘Joy everlasting,’ a disciple called out and a chorus of voices responded, ‘Everlasting joy.’
The leader’s expression grew solemn. ‘Now Assassin has been taken from us, it is no longer safe for us to stay in this house.’
An anxious mutter of conversation fluttered around the assembled disciples. The leader resumed speaking and they fell silent.
‘Assassin has proved himself worthy of our trust.’
Even so, the leader knew there could be no guarantee of another person’s discretion. Assassin might unwittingly betray them. Their enemies were ignorant, but cunning. He stood up.
‘We must vanish from this place without trace. Now hurry. The gods will not wait long. Go upstairs and pack your belongings. Bring everything here as quickly as you can.’
With an anxious glance at the gods who were watching silently, he dismissed his followers.
Losing Assassin’s house was a disappointment. It would have given them twice as much room as their present refuge in Canterbury Road. Now they would have to start all over again and find another property large enough to house them all. But he wasn’t worried. He knew the gods would lead them to a new sanctuary, just as they had guided him down the mountain. Each of his disciples had been sent to him for a purpose. All were single children of wealthy parents. The most recent follower was nearly eighteen. Already initiated into his bed, she was ripe to become a disciple. Her father was dead. Her mother lived in a remote farmhouse big enough for all of them. From there the community would grow. Although it was a setback, losing Assassin, others would take up the calling. No one was indispensable. All were but servants of the one true cause. Leading his disciples to salvation was all that mattered.
‘Assassin will reap his reward in paradise,’ he whispered to the waiting gods.
‘Sacrifice cleanses,’ they replied in the silence.
I
AN HAD THE DAY
off on Saturday. This time Bev insisted he really did stay at home. With the case resolved, he was only too happy to comply. For the best part of a month he had dedicated every waking moment to working, or thinking about work. It had been worthwhile in the end. They had obtained justice of a sort for Martha, Jade and Candy, and had ensured a demented psychopath couldn’t kill again. Mark’s madness seemed to have struck without warning. Once he had committed matricide there was no route back to sanity, no act more terrible than the one he had already committed.
Lying in bed, Ian considered Bev’s accusation that he was obsessed with the dead. Maybe she was right, and he should have been more interested in Martha’s history before she died, rather than in her murder. Beyond the cause of death, a corpse revealed few secrets if the killer left no trace of DNA at the scene. Perhaps if he had studied Martha’s life he would have spotted a clue to her son’s insanity and been able to save the other two victims. It was depressing to think that, if he had suspected Mark earlier, Jade might still be alive, and Joey might not have lost his mother. But it was destructive blaming himself for his shortcomings. At least they had caught Mark in the end. Rob had been very complimentary about Ian’s role in uncovering the truth. If it hadn’t been for Ian’s sharpness, he said, they would most likely have continued pursuing Henry through the courts. Henry would probably have kept silent, reluctant to accuse his own son of murdering Martha. An innocent man might have been sentenced on the false evidence of an evil killer who would have remained at large, free and wealthy. It was impossible to speculate how many other lives might have been saved by Ian’s perspicacity. He stretched out in bed, musing on this gratifying aspect of the case as he waited for Bev to bring him breakfast.
Propping himself up against his pillows he gazed hungrily at the tray she was holding: fried egg, crispy toast, fat sausages, beans and a hash brown, along with a steaming mug of coffee and a glass of orange juice.
‘That smells damn good!’ he grinned.
Placing the tray carefully on the bed, she sat down and twisted round to watch him eat.
‘Go on, finish it,’ she fussed. ‘You need to look after yourself.’
‘That’s your job,’ he smiled as he tucked in.
Her brow creased with faint exasperation at the mention of her job. She hadn’t handed in her notice yet.
‘What if it doesn’t come off and I’ve already resigned?’ she asked.
‘It’s going ahead all right. It’s really happening. Even your mother’s accepted we’re moving away.’
‘But why York?’ she asked with a grimace.
He could tell she wasn’t really angry.
He finished his breakfast and reached out to hold her hand. Fiddling with her wedding ring, he told her he had another surprise lined up.
‘Oh no, not another surprise. I haven’t recovered from this one yet.’
‘You’re going to like this one,’ he promised her. ‘This one’s a very nice surprise.’
‘Not another move then?’
‘Well, in a way I suppose it is, but it’s a temporary move. A very temporary move. I’ve booked us a holiday. It’s a belated honeymoon, because we never had one after the wedding.’
‘That’s because we put all our money into the house,’ she reminded him. That had been her decision, not his.
‘Well, now we’re having a honeymoon.’
‘We can’t afford it.’
‘That doesn’t matter.’
She stared at him, her neatly shaped eyebrows raised.
‘We ought to wait, save up –’ She fell silent as he shook his head vigorously.
He had no words to explain that life was too fragile to waste in waiting for better times that might never come. All that mattered was how they lived each day of their lives.
‘You deserve the best honeymoon money can buy,’ he said instead, and was rewarded with a smile.
With a surge of joy he knew that he loved his wife. A voice in his head warned him he couldn’t keep buying his way into her favour, but he ignored it. Together they would make their marriage work.
This ebook edition first published in 2013
First published in 2013
by No Exit Press
an imprint of Oldcastle Books
P O Box 394,
Harpenden, AL5 1XJ
All rights reserved
© Leigh Russell 2013
The right of Leigh Russell to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
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ISBN
978–1–84344-150-2 (print)
978–1–84344-151-9 (epub)
978–1–84344-152-6 (kindle)
978–1–84344-153-3 (pdf)
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