Flesh House (26 page)

37

'Hello?' A voice in the darkness. Small and hesitant.

Heather rolled over onto her side. 'Duncan?'

'
What?
' Definitely not Duncan or Mr New. She was hearing things again.

She sat up, peering into the Dark. Trying to pick out a shape to go with the voice coming from the other side of the bars. 'Are you real?'

A pause.

'Am I real?' It was a woman.

'Or are you dead like the others?'

Silence.

And then the voice said. 'I'm cold.'

Heather gripped the duvet closer around herself.

'
Heather
,' Mr New stepped through the bars,'
share, it's only fair
.'

'But what if she dies?'

'Dies?' The new voice tried again:'What if who dies?'

'
Heather
...'

Sigh. 'I've got a duvet.' Heather clambered out of bed and dragged the mattress over to the bars, then poked half the duvet through a gap between two of them. 'Happy now?'

She'd been talking to Mr New, but it was the woman who answered. 'Thank you.' A scuffing sound, then Heather heard her settle back against the bars. There was a tug as the new girl wrapped the other half of the duvet around herself.

A long pause.

'My name's Kelley ... Kelley Souter.' A shaky hand was extended between the bars, brushing Heather's shoulder.

'Heather Inglis.'

'I ... I read about you in the papers.'

Silence.

The new girl, Kelley, said,'You have a little boy.'

'Justin. He's ... he was three ...' She bit her lip to hold back the tears.

'I had a little boy too. They took him away from me in the hospital ... said I was too young.' And so it all came out: how she was only thirteen, but it didn't matter because her boyfriend promised to stand by her. How he was nearly twenty years older than her. How one day he just vanished, never to be heard from again ...

Heather listened quietly, then told Kelley about how Justin was born four and a half weeks early. 'He was so small, like a tiny doll, all purple and red ... They let me hold him for a minute before he went into the incubator. Lying there with all those tubes and wires ...' She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. 'Mother told me he'd never survive and I shouldn't get too attached. That it was probably Duncan's fault because he smoked pot.'

'
What a bitch!
' Duncan paced back and forth, the blood light pulsing from the hole in his head.'
Why didn't you tell me?
'

'But Justin showed her - grew up into a big strong boy ... I miss him so much.'

Kelley's hand wriggled through the gap again, taking hold of Heather's. 'I'm glad you're here.'

Two living people, in the kingdom of the Dark.

'
You shouldn't get too friendly with her,' said Duncan, still pacing. 'She'll die, and then you'll have to eat her, and you'll feel guilty about it.
'

'Go away, Duncan.'

'
I'm just saying, OK? It's for your own good
.'

'Who are you talking to?'

Heather didn't really want to go through it all again. 'My husband. He's dead. And a selfish arsehole.'

The grip on her hand tightened:'You can speak to the dead?'

'
Thanks. That's very nice. Selfish arsehole. Jesus, Heather, after everything I've done for you!
'

'Piss off, Duncan. I'm not in the mood.'

'
Look - you know I'm right. She's going to end up on a plate
.'

'I ... I wish I could talk to the dead. I'd tell my mum and dad how much I loved them.' Kelley's voice broke. 'It was my twelfth birthday ... The lorry was on the wrong side of the road and ... The firemen couldn't ... They had to cut us out. Mum and dad were ...' She shuddered into silence.

Heather sniffed back a tear. 'I lost my dad when I was fifteen. He jumped off Union Bridge. I hated my mother for that ... hated her. All those years.'

Kelly gripped her hand so tight it hurt. 'I wanted them to love me so much ...'

Heather sat in the darkness, head back against the bars, holding onto Kelley's hand. Knowing that everything was going to be all right, because the Flesher would be back soon with his tin bath. And make Kelley's pain go away.

38

'Come on, come on, come on ...' Logan willed the lift doors to open, wishing he'd taken the stairs instead. Ping: out, right, and through the double doors, barrelling down the corridor towards Detective Chief Superintendent Bain's office. Glad to be the bearer of good news for a change.

The door was shut, but the sound of raised voices filtered through.

DI Steel:'What the hell were you thinking?'

DCS Bain:'Oh come on, what was I supposed to do? His wife's left him and taken the kids, he needs something to focus on.'

Logan changed his mind about knocking and loitered with intent to eavesdrop instead.

'He's grieving. He's no' thinking straight. He's bloody dangerous!'

'He begged, OK? He begged me to let him come back to work and--'

'He shouldn't be here! And I'm no' just saying that to be a bitch - he needs time. You push him and he'll bloody break.'

'It's light duties
only
. Admin, organizing the backlog. I've told him to stay away from the Flesher investigation
and
Wiseman. It's--'

'How could you be so stupid? You really think--'

'INSPECTOR! That's enough. You're--'

Logan knocked on the door before the DCS could say something Steel would regret. There was a terse silence, and then:'Enter.'

When Logan opened the door, the two of them were standing nose-to-nose, scowling at each other.

The DCS barely glanced at him. 'This better be important, Sergeant.'

'We've got a result off the CCTV footage.'

'What, you mean the abattoir?'

Steel looked at her superior officer as if he were an idiot. 'No, Storybook Glen. Of course he means the abattoir!' She turned and marched from the room, pausing only to grab Logan by the sleeve. 'About time too.'

Five minutes later they were all in the main incident room, clustered round a scabby old television someone had wheeled in on a trolley. DCS Bain told Rennie to hit pause then tapped the screen: it was night, and a man in a thick padded jacket and dark woollen hat was caught halfway between the protein processing area and the shed where they kept the salted hides. He had a heavy-looking holdall slung over his shoulder.

DI Steel peered at the timestamp flickering away in the corner. 'When was this?'

Rennie checked something on a clipboard. 'Friday night. Twenty-eight minutes past eleven: when the security guards usually have their fly cup - official tea break's not till midnight, but they slip one in when no one's looking. It's about thirty-six hours after the pathologist reckons Tom Stephen was killed.' He pressed play again, and the figure hurried past the skin sheds; one frame every two seconds, like cheap Canadian animation, then disappeared through the fence and into the leylandii hedge.

'Bloody hell ...' Steel slapped Rennie on the shoulder. 'How come no one noticed this sooner?'

'Ow!'

Bain told him to stop whining and get onto Photographic:'I want that man's face blown up and enhanced. Tell them nothing else takes precedence, understand?'

The constable snapped off a salute and stabbed the video's eject button.

'Next, I want everyone to go back through the list of abattoir workers: find me a face that fits.' He smiled. 'We've finally got him.'

Logan stood outside on the rear podium, trying to get through to Chief Constable Faulds on his mobile. It rang through to an anonymous electronic answering service. He declined to leave a message and tried the number Faulds had given him for Lloyd House - Birmingham's version of Force Headquarters instead.

'
West Midlands Police, how can I help you?
'

He asked to be put through, ending up in Hold Music Hell with a panpipe rendition of
In the Air Tonight
. Before finally getting through to a human being who told him Faulds was taking a couple of personal days, but he'd be back on Wednesday. Would Logan like to leave a message?

'Yeah, tell him we've got a suspect: Marek Kowalczyk, works at the abattoir where we found the body parts.'

Alec appeared through the back door, grinning from ear to ear, a bulky stab-proof vest on under his parka. 'This'll make a kick-ass finale to the programme!'

Logan thanked the sergeant on the other end of the phone and hung up. 'You do know this is probably going to be hours of sitting in a car waiting for nothing to happen, don't you?'

'Ah, where's your sense of adventure? This is going to be great!'

Which just went to show how much he knew.

39

Garioch View Guesthouse, Turriff - Sunday 19:54

The bed and breakfast was a crumbling building not too far from the centre of Turriff. God knew why they'd called it 'Garioch View', the only thing visible from the pokey rooms was a bus stop on other side of the road and a swathe of grimy red sandstone houses. According to the landlady, Marek Kowalczyk was out, but he'd be back later - probably half-cut - so they parked the CID pool car two doors away under a streetlight, where they'd have a good view of the entrance. Logan wound the car window down, letting in the cool night air.

DI Steel shivered in the passenger seat. 'You trying to give us all hypothermia? Shut the bloody window.'

'Put your shoes back on then.'

'No.'

'Smells like mouldy gorgonzola in here.'

'Cheeky bastard. Anyway, Alec's no' complaining, are you Alec?'

The cameraman leant over from the back seat. 'No, but that sod Paul gave me his cold, didn't he?' Blowing his nose for dramatic effect.

'See: Alec's got pneumonia and you won't shut the window. You
trying
to kill him?'

'Fine. OK. Whatever.' Logan wound the window back up. 'Jesus ...'

Garioch View Guesthouse, Turriff - Sunday 20:13

Still no sign of Kowalczyk. DI Steel yawned, stretched, then said,'What's green and smells of pork?'

Logan didn't look up from the copy of yesterday's
Evening Express
he'd found on the back seat. 'No idea.'

She grinned at him. 'Kermit's willy!' Pause for laughter. Nothing. 'Miserable sods.' She rubbed at the small of her back. 'Why can't we go wait for him in the B&B?'

'Because the DCS and Rennie are in there. You really want to spend the whole evening listening to Rennie banging on about how much he loves his girlfriend?'

'Good point.'

Garioch View Guesthouse, Turriff - Sunday 20:31

'No, but don't you think it's a bit weird?' said Alec, offering round a packet of Lockets,'I mean Kermit's a frog right? He doesn't have a penis, so how's he supposed to get it on with Miss Piggy? What's he going to do: wait for her to lay her eggs, then squirt his sperm all over them? Not exactly a fulfilling sex life, is it?'

Steel turned to look at him. 'Pigs don't lay eggs. Chickens do.'

Logan pointed off down the street at someone stomping their way home in the dark. 'There! Is that him?'

The inspector dragged her binoculars out of the glove compartment ...'No.'

'Damn.' Logan went back to his crossword.

Garioch View Guesthouse, Turriff - Sunday 21:04

'So how come,' said Logan keeping one eye on the deserted street,'in
A Muppet Christmas Carol
, Kermit and Miss Piggy--'

Steel:'You mean Mrs The Frog, they were married in that one.'

'How come they had two piglet daughters and one little frog boy?'

Alec:'Maybe they adopted.'

Steel:'She was screwing around behind Kermit's back. Can't say I blame her: he's no' got a penis, remember?'

Alec:'Artificial insemination. My cousin Peter and his wife had that.'

'Ah,' Logan boinked a finger off the steering wheel,'then why didn't they have some sort of freakish half-pig-half-frog hybrid child?'

There was a thoughtful pause. 'Maybe that's why Tiny Tim was dying: he wasn't genetically viable.'

Garioch View Guesthouse, Turriff - Sunday 21:17

'Christ I'm
bored!
' Steel slumped back in her seat and put her hands over her face, muffling a scream. 'Aaaaaaaaaaargh!'

Logan checked the dashboard clock: they'd been here nearly three hours. 'He's got to come home some time - all his stuff's still in his room.'

'Aye, well I've had enough. I'm no' spending all night with you and Captain Sniffles here, talking about the reproductive habits of fucking Muppets!'

Alec stuck his head between the two front seats. 'But this is going to be the final showdown! Grampian Police catch the Flesher! You want to be here for that, don't you?'

'What I want is a huge glass of Chardonnay, a jar of marmalade, and Keira Knightley in a thong. How about you, Laz?'

'Shhh!' Logan dug about in his jacket pocket, looking for the photo they'd got from the abattoir's personnel files.

'Don't you bloody shoosh me. I'm no' the one banging on about Kermit the Frog's sex life.'

'I think it's him!'

The figure weaving along the road towards them paused for a moment to swig from a litre bottle of supermarket vodka. Thick moustache, little round glasses, cleft chin. 'It's Kowalczyk.'

'Right.' Steel hauled her shoes back on. 'Here's what we do: when he gets level with the car, we jump him.'

'We're supposed to let him go into the B&B, and take him there, remember? Rennie and Bain--'

'What the hell's wrong with you?' She smacked Logan on the shoulder. 'Carpe fucking diem!'

'What if he does a runner?'

Steel chewed on the inside of her cheek. Kowalczyk was getting closer. 'If we lose him, we're up shite creek without a snorkel ...' She scowled. 'OK, OK, we'll stick to the plan. You happy?'

Kowalczyk took one more swig, threw his arms wide, and started singing.'
Sto lat, sto lat, niech zyje, zyje nam!
' He lurched into a little dance.'
Sto lat, sto lat, niech zyje, zyje nam!
'

Steel pulled out her mobile and started dialling. 'Come on, come on ... Yeah, Bill, it's Koalasick-- I don't care if that's not how you bloody pronounce it: he's outside. Heading up the drive ... now.'

He was really getting in to the swing of things, bellowing out,'
Jeszcze raz, jeszcze raz, niech zyje, zyje nam!
' He nearly collapsed into a knot of scabby rosebushes, then gave it laldy for the finale:'NIECH ZYJE NAM!'

Fumble for key ... two ... three ... four ... key in the lock. Stagger inside. Steel was back on the phone again,'He's in. We're on our way.' She clambered out into the cold night and marched across the road, Alec trailing along behind her, filming everything.

Logan was just locking the car when a loud crash sounded inside the B&B ... then a television smashed through the lounge window in a shower of glittering glass.

Someone shouted,'Come back here!'

'
Odpierdol sie!
' Marek Kowalczyk followed the television set, leaping out through the shattered window, landing in the rosebushes.'
Kurwa!
' Then he was scrabbling out the other side and away, sprinting back down the street, arms and legs pumping like mad.

Logan leapt back in the car, cranked the key, and roared out onto the street. 'Shit!' He slammed on the brakes and the Vauxhall screeched to a halt again, two feet short of flattening DI Steel as she ran out into the middle of the road, waving her arms. She wrenched open the passenger door and threw herself inside.

'Don't just sit there! Get after the bastard!'

Logan put his foot down.

They were just in time to see Kowalczyk take a left onto Main Street. The pool car skittered into the turn, leaving a screech of tyres behind. Logan slapped the siren button, and the distinctive Weeeeeeeeeeeooooooow blared out, blue lights flashing behind the front grille.

Kowalczyk glanced back over his shoulder and put on a fresh burst of speed.

Which was why he didn't see the Volkswagen Golf coming the other way.

Marek Kowalczyk had time for one last'
Kurwa!
' before it hit him.

A screech of brakes. The THUMP of flesh meeting metal clearly audible over the pounding music. Pinwheeling limbs. The wet crunch of a body slamming down onto the tarmac.

And then someone screamed.