Her Moons Denouement (Fallen Angels Book 2) (18 page)

‘The man sounds like a saint.  So giving.’ Tait answered sarcastically.  ‘Do you think he is currently helping Coleen Naismith in the same way?  She was last seen running screaming from the house that she shares with her boyfriend by neighbours.  That was two days ago.  Today someone reported finding blood and a severed toe in Leuchold Woods.  Forensics have confirmed that they are Coleen Naismith’s.  Three weeks ago she attended a victim support session where your father was giving a talk.  Today both your sister and your father have mysteriously gone AWOL.  Your family know something about her disappearance. You know something about her disappearance.  What are you hiding?  What are you afraid of?  Is it your father?  Are you afraid he may banish you to the cupboard under the stairs if you tell?’

Bentley’s body stiffened, a shot of anger coursing through it, visible in eyes that went from dull to glistening, lips that went from pliant to snarling, fists that went from shaking to taught as he spoke. ‘I have never heard of Coleen Naismith.  As for my father, he is not a Saint, but neither is he a monster and what we do, how we live behind our front door is nobody’s business but ours.’

‘Is that right.  Nobody’s business but yours.  Do you even know what is going on behind your front door?’ Tait responded with measured aggression.  ‘We found signs of sexual activity in your father’s bed.  Recent sexual activity.’

The slight bit of fight that had coursed through Bentley’s body left him again and he slumped back into his seat, his face anguished.

‘DNA is conclusive.  The sexual act was between your father and your sister.  Did you know that was happening behind your front door?’                    

Chapter 28

On the face of it three very distinct and different murderers.  Yes, all religious leaders with a warped sense of their own beliefs but when you come down to it, when you come down to the animal in us all, are they really different, or is this really just about sex.  Is that what the ‘Fallen Angels’ are trying to show? 

I shuffle pictures on my hotel wall, bringing images of the three religious leaders closer together and pin a list of the women each has murdered beneath them.  That’s another anomaly in all three cases.  Heather Scott and Sunni Bhalla have not been called out on the videos the Fallen Angels have released so far.  I know that there was one more picture shown in the Chodak case as well.  Who are they?  Are the Angels trying to tell the police something and if so, what?  Are they a bigger part of what the Angels are going to reveal?  By my reckoning, there is only one reveal left to go.  Patterns.  It will be religious, it will be in Edinburgh, there will be an anomaly, and a ‘Fallen Angel’ will commit suicide.  What else?  Well, Madame Evangeline, Eve, Jessica will make a video of it.  She will ask people to question the fear in their faith. 

There is a sound of a soft footfall on the carpet behind me and the waft of a subtle encompassing scent, Coco Chanel.  I don’t turn, but feel Rebecca come up alongside me and mirror my gaze at the evidence wall.

‘You can use the door you know. I did give you a key.’ I say.

‘What, and have the plain clothes police officer who is following you know you are aiding and abetting a fugitive?’

‘You’ve seen him?’

‘He’s not hard to miss.  If he’s not lounging around the reception area looking like a desperate punter trying to score some crack, he’s watching from McDonalds over the road stuffing his face with burgers.  So best I keep using the window.  What are you contemplating now?’

Rebecca is constantly surprising me.  ‘Right at this moment I’m contemplating how the hell you have become so savvy so quickly to surveillance techniques.’

‘You call it surveillance techniques, I call it people watching.  It’s something I have always done, but I got a lot better at it when I met Madame Evangeline.  We would meet up in the night and watch people, sometimes following them back to their homes.  Sometimes watching through cracks in curtains as they got naked and fucked their husbands, wives, lovers: or all three.  Invariably, we would play with each other while we watched.  She taught me a lot about reading body language and facial expressions.  Don’t change the subject, what are you contemplating?’

‘Three murderers.  I’m trying to understand patterns so we can figure out who the fourth might be.  Just wondering if this is about sex.  The first set of victims were buggered, the second set had their clitorises ripped off and the third had their heads forced up their vaginas.’

‘I saw the ‘Fallen Angels’ video on the news and do you know what struck me.  Yes, she asked people to question their faith and why they fear it.  Yes, the monsters who killed those girls are probably nutters and an extremely radical representation of their faith.  But what struck me was the underlying tenants of those faiths and the way they perceive and treat women.  It might not be about sex, it might be about the sexes.’

I look at her in open admiration, nodding my head as I write that hypothesis down on a post it and hand it to her.  ‘Way to go Miss Pankhurst.  I think you might just be onto something there.  There is no doubt that Madame Evangeline is a force of nature.  She has no problem using sex to get what she wants.  You know that probably more than anyone.’

‘Like I said, she taught me well.  Including how you use sex as a weapon to cajole and control.  I’m doing it to you now.  I saw your eyes light up when I talked about being a voyeur.  Do you want to hear more?’ she teases as she pops the post-it note onto the wall and then unrolls a map she is holding and pins that to the wall too.

‘I heard quite a bit on the Hanlon tapes.  All about your encounters with Madame Evangeline.’ I answer as I approach the map, noting the clusters of dots marked on it.  Three distinct areas, but the most surprising thing was the sheer number of dots.

‘I don’t think you’ve heard about them all.  I counted them today as I marked up the map and it even surprised me.  In the space of a year we met seventy three times.  Statistically, once every five days although practically it wasn’t like that.  What you heard on the tapes was only an abridged version of events.  I could tell you in intimate detail about every single one of those encounters if you want me to?’ she teases, deliberately running the stump of her tongue as close to her lips as possible.  Her eyes, full of playful wickedness make the grotesqueness of the action alluring, distracting me again.

‘Trust me, my tackle is in no fit state to react to even the most lurid or erotic of descriptions and it will waste precious time finding out what we need to.  Is there any significance in your mind to the clustering of the encounters?’ I ask, hopefully distracting her attention from the fact that I am ever so slightly embarrassed and flustered at her candidness.  It didn’t work.

‘The first set, around Leith are when I would meet her at clubs like Sodom and Gomorrah, where she regularly performed cunnilingus on my aching hot clitoris.  Most of the legal and illegal sex scene on a club basis is centred around that area.  The second set are centred on the Holyrood area.  Now that was a lot of outdoor activity, a lot of alfresco sex, a lot of teasing and tantalising, flashing bare flesh and erect nipples, masturbating and fingering each other in bushes knowing we were being watched.  Knowing we were being watched by politicians, or civil servants.  Basically people of power. Lastly, the mews, the crescents, the courts and the squares around the far end of Princess Street, an area with a lot of wealth in a small footprint.  It is true what they say, wealth does lead to excess.  Your eyes would water at some of the excess we witnessed.  That’s where we would watch through cracks in curtains, knowing that the people in the houses knew they were being watched.  We would live in shadows, mere metres away from people passing in the night.  The thrill of being so close to the city centre, so close to normal life and having your lover caress and squeeze your naked breasts, having her fervently forcing her fingers in and out of your yearning cunt as you spy on others doing the same thing is just so intoxicating.  The whole experience was liberating.’

She is looking at my profile, I can feel her emerald eyes burning into my ruddy cheek.  I turn and see her mouth closed, her lips pouting at me, those eyes simmering.  She places a hand tenderly on my groin and strokes the erection growing in my jeans, making me gasp.

‘There’s nothing at all wrong with your tackle.’ she smirks, removing her hand and punching me playfully in the forearm, her eyes changing from simmering to soulful. ‘Making someone feel like you do right now is what she taught me.  I have just disarmed every single one of your defence mechanisms with a few chosen words, a single touch and an intensity of personality.  She gave me the belief to do that.  She had me challenge morality.  She made me fearless of sex.  Why did she teach me to do that?’

My pulse is racing, I can feel my heart battering my eardrums with the rhythm of my coursing blood.  She is absolutely right.  She has disarmed me.  If she told me right now to lay on the bed and do any bloody sexual act under the sun to her, I would.  I would have no qualms about it.  Jess had the same impact on me sexually.  Which isn’t a surprise as she is Madame Evangeline.       

I jump as my pocket begins to vibrate, sending another jolt down my erection.  Rebecca giggles as I reach in there and pull out my phone awkwardly, trying hard not to touch myself. 

‘Harry, where the hell have you been?  I’ve been trying to get you for hours.  Did you see her come down from the monument?’ I ask overtly down the phone, still trying to distract my mind from images of Rebecca naked.

‘Sorry John.  I had a domestic issue with one of the girls, her pony has gone lame and I needed to make some urgent calls to vets.  Bloody phone ran out of battery then.  I’ve only just managed to steal a charger.’

‘No problem, these things happen.  Did you see her come down?’ I reiterate probably a little too impatiently.

‘Sorry John, I didn’t.  I hung around just on the main street for about twenty minutes, well after they had cleared the area.  I can only guess that she got away before you came down.’

‘Shit!  Okay.  How about the CCTV footage in Jenners, did you get any further with that?’

‘Not from Jenners.  I couldn’t get any further there.  For whatever reason I can’t see them coming out of the shop.  So I moved on to the second date when Jessica came up on her own.  That has been a little more promising and a little odd.’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, I have her going in and out of four shops along Princess Street, the last one being House of Fraser.’

‘Where about is that on a map Harry?  Is that toward the Holyrood end of Princess Street or the Lothian Road end?’ I look at the clusters of dots on Rebecca’s map as I wait for an answer.

‘It’s down towards Lothian Road.  Why do you ask?’

‘Just a hunch is all.’  I put the phone on mute and talk to Rebecca.  ‘Harry has CCTV of Jessica down this end of the street.’ I say, pointing at the map, ‘That’s not far from the Lothian cluster.  I think we should put your surveillance techniques to the test around there tonight.’  I suggest.

‘Hello John, are you there?’

‘Sorry Harry, I was just looking that up on a map here.  Did you see her leave the store in any particular direction?’

‘No, I didn’t unfortunately, and that’s where it gets a little bit odd.’

‘Odd how?’

‘Well, odd in that the CCTV in that store is pretty damn good.  I have her moving around the floors, I can even see what she is buying.  Then she just disappears.  I have no footage at all of her leaving the store and I have checked it all for the rest of the day.’

‘It’s not that odd.  You couldn’t find her leaving Jenners either.’

‘No, sorry John, that’s not the odd thing.’

‘Oh, alright.  What is the odd thing then?’

‘Do you recall this afternoon when the detectives took you away.  The younger one, not the stern battle axe.’

‘DC Tait?  What about her?’ I ask, perplexed, shrugging my shoulders toward an inquisitive Rebecca who was listening in on the call.

‘Well, I saw her on the CCTV coming out of the store about half an hour after Jessica went in.’

‘Okay, that could just mean that they both went shopping in the same store on the same day.  Or it could mean that they were meeting each other?’  I pondered aloud.

‘Either are possibilities, but I have no footage of the two of them conversing or even passing close to each other.  But even that isn’t the odd thing.’

‘That’s odd enough!  So come on, what is the odd thing?’

‘The odd thing, and believe me I have checked and double checked, is that I can’t find any CCTV footage of DC Tait entering the store.’