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Authors: Drew Cross

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BOOK: Grind Their Bones
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I paused to collect my thoughts, feeling the tension creeping into Lee's arm as he caressed my side.

'Anyway, I read him the riot act on domestic violence, told him that I'd kick his arse from there to the cells if I was ever even given cause to suspect that it had happened again, and that I'd be telling my sister to bin him along with the rest of the trash.'

I stopped again, thinking about the weird expression that had crossed his face.

'Did he try to deny it?'

Lee asked, looking wide awake now and moving into a sitting position.

'He didn't say anything at all. Just stood there with such a spaced out look in his eyes that I wondered whether he was on drugs, and then his father came over and spoke on his behalf instead.'

I yawned, feeling my anger beginning to dissipate and the fog of sleep beginning to descend on me.

'What did he say?'

Lee was impatient for me to finish.

'He just said, that would be a mistake Zara, in his most business like voice and ushered me right back out of the door like I was the hired help. My talk seemed to do the trick though, none of us have seen a scratch on her since, and until now they've seemed as good as they've ever been together. I presume he told her about my visit though, because she's not had anything to do with me since. Now lie right back down here Mister, I was comfortable where I was before.'

He did as he was told and slid back in beside me, mulling over what I'd just said.

'Yet you're still the first person she's reached out to this time, and that should tell you something.'

I reached around and started to stroke his inner thigh in response, slowly working my way upwards.

'So should this.'

I whispered, moving my hand inside the waistband of his boxer shorts.

 

 

Chapter 18

 

Under the cover of darkness the Grey Man slipped over the top of the modest garden wall and dropped quietly to the ground. For all of the show of security features at the front of the property, with gated electronic access and closed circuit television cameras, the security round the back was shockingly poor; a pleasant ten minute walk across open fields from a quiet country lane and he was standing within view of the property. Evidently the Doctor had no real fear of meeting those who might wish him harm here at his country retreat, although to be fair to him, obtaining the address hadn't been as straight forward as anticipated.

The ground was hard underfoot, courtesy of the glorious summer that they were having, and an evening that had been entirely free from moisture of any discernable kind; so it appeared that the precautions he'd taken with footwear would prove to be unnecessary. He didn't trouble himself to stay down low or move at speed across the open spaces, since he'd already taken the trouble to disable the motion sensor on a floodlight that kept watch over the neatly striped lawn on a previous recent visit. Besides that, the Doctor was a man of almost neurotic routine and habit, retiring to his bed full of expensive brandy at ten every night almost without fail. He'd be asleep and snoring next to his lunatic wife by now.

The Grey Man was a man of considerable means. He continued to hold a position as a Director on the board of a successful company that he had founded some years ago, simply in order to provide cover for his comings and goings, rather than out of strict monetary necessity. With that money and power he'd been able to discreetly find out a considerable amount about Doctor Alan Hardwick. Certainly a lot more than the good Doctor would know about him, even if his suspicions on that score were proven correct tonight. One of the surprises had been the wife, Anne. It had transpired that she was a former patient of his, who had been exonerated from culpability in the death of her abusive ex-husband on the grounds of diminished responsibility. That fact appeared to have escaped the notice of almost everybody, but then again, she had changed her name by deed poll after her eventual recovery and release from a secure unit. The psychiatric evaluation prior to release had been done by Hardwick himself.

Upon reaching the back of the house, he was greeted by the sight of several open windows, an additional benefit of the muggy summer nights that made pastimes such as house-breaking that much easier. He quickly slipped inside, removing the bag from his back to ease his passage through the opening, and headed for the spectacularly beamed master bedroom.

It seemed curiously lighter inside than out, courtesy of all that glass combined with the light and airy décor, which made navigating the unfamiliar territory more straightforward. Knowing the floor plans of a property was not quite the same as physically being in it, but the layout was a testament to beautifully designed natural and logical flow. In any other circumstances that might well be a good thing for Doctor and Mrs Hardwick. He pushed open the door to the master suite and stepped inside switching on the light. Nobody was there. How was this possible?

‘I knew you’d come after the floodlight was tampered with the other night, so I’ve taken to sending Anne away as a precaution in the evenings.’

Doctor Hardwick’s voice came from the darkened study behind him, and the doctor himself switched on the desk lamp as he spoke and came into view.

‘I must say that I’m so very pleased to finally make the acquaintance of the feared Grey Man. Perhaps even more so because I was right about your identity.’

Alan Hardwick’s face was alight with excitement. He looked like a child standing in front of the world’s largest pile of presents on Christmas morning.

‘Now don’t go getting any ideas about killing me too. I’ve got your real psychological profile on my computer, together with your real identity and the chain of logic that allowed me to work out who you were. There’s a hardcopy lodged with my solicitor to be opened immediately in the event of my death, since I was almost certain that your reaction to the insultingly bad press release would be to track me down. It’s been a nervy couple of days of waiting, since you disabled the light outside, let me assure you! Of course, I had to make sure I was awake to tell you these things, otherwise…well, I hardly need to tell you about that now, do I?’

 

 

Chapter 19

 

The Grey Man moved into the study space without outward signs of surprise or concern; taking the time to examine the framed certificates covering one wall.

‘Very impressive, Doctor.’

He said without feeling, placing his bag down on the desk top and slowly clapping his hands together in an approximation of applause, watching the smaller man fighting the urge to flinch back into his chair.

‘And what, may I ask, was the clincher for you?’

He maintained eye contact for longer than necessary, enjoying Hardwick’s growing discomfort and watching beads of sweat breaking out on his bulbous shiny head.

‘I’d already been working on the theory that you felt you had a connection with the lead Detective, you’d alluded to it obliquely in some of your previous correspondence. A shame that the investigators assumed that it was only a connection that you felt you shared, and not one that existed for real. I, on the other hand, had a strong feeling that it went some way beyond that. I followed my nose and the circumstantial evidence until you came onto my radar, and then my suspicion was confirmed. It’s quite astonishing when you think about it. Not to mention on many levels somewhat pleasing, and all the more incredible when you consider that you are there in the police records for all to see, questioned but never charged in relation to a seemingly unrelated but nevertheless very important incident all that time ago. The most recent letter that you left was what confirmed it once and for all for me.’

Hardwick stopped talking and gave a small shy smile. Was it possible that the man was star struck?

‘Very astute of you, Doctor. And now we stand here, two men with a common interest I believe. So just exactly what do you want from me?’

He began to undo the clips on the backpack, reaching inside to remove the contents and starting to place them on the top of the desk.

‘I want the opportunity to gain an insight into you, to establish the details of who you are, what forces shaped your earlier life, and what you do when you’re alone with your victims, as well as getting your take on why that is.’

He paused for a moment and then delivered the punch line.

‘I want to be the first man in my field to conduct a detailed examination of an active serial killer who is still at large, and in return I will keep my findings entirely to myself until such time as you are incarcerated or die. Regrettably, they are statistically speaking very likely to catch you at some point, even without my help. Although I’ll ensure that I am of no use whatsoever to their investigation in the meantime.’

The small man smiled again, looking immensely pleased with himself.

‘And what use are those findings to you at that point, Doctor?’

The killer finished removing the last of the items from his bag.

‘They’ll be going into my book about you of course. Along with details of the revised psychological report that I prepared after the first version, which was almost completely accurate, and which was roundly ignored by my police colleagues who chose instead to consider me as a potential susp…err…what are you doing?’

Hardwick’s sentence tailed off as he noticed the length of rope in the other mans hands.

‘Showing you my equipment, Doctor; the tools of my trade if you will. If you want to understand what I do, then it’s important for you to see this next part for yourself.’

He formed a loop with the rope and fashioned a slipknot before deftly swinging it over the seated Doctor and pulling it tight in one practiced fluid movement.

‘I’m not sure that this is entirely necessary…’

The incapacitated man started to protest feebly, growing increasingly concerned. The intruder ignored him.

‘I was privileged to visit Morocco last year, a beautiful place full of all manner of curious delights, particularly of the culinary kind, and for that reason it’s a place that features high on any true gourmand’s wish list. Have you been?’

He looped the rope around the back of the chair several times, pulling it tight enough to constrict Hardwick’s breathing.

‘Not yet. That’s a bit tight by the way.’

The captive man’s face was already beginning to change colour.

‘You should have done. They have one delicacy that’s not for the squeamish, but which is surprisingly good if you're prepared to take the plunge. It involves feasting on a whole roasted sheep, something which they do socially and communally. Do you know which parts they consider to be the best?’

He paused to allow the Doctor opportunity to reply.

‘Remember about that envelope lodged with my solicitor.’

Panic started to fill Hardwick’s expression and he struggled feebly against his bonds as he spoke with a rising pitched voice.

‘The eyes and tongue, Doctor…which are considered to be so good that they are sometimes eaten fresh and raw.’

 

 

Chapter 20

 

It was technically my day off, so I'd been looking forward to spending some time kicking back and relaxing at home. But I didn't trust myself to hold my tongue around Emily, so I showered and dressed early before heading out into the irritatingly cheerful morning to catch breakfast away from the house. Lee rose with me, stopping to ask whether we should really be leaving her to wake up to an empty house, and prompting me to leave a terse note explaining our absence, along with a spare key in case she decided to head out for some air too.

'So where are we heading?'

I was moving at a fast march, putting distance between myself and my sister, something that I'd been trying to do continuously without much success since childhood, and Lee was looking bemused by my haste.

It wasn't that I hated her, after all she'd never done anything deliberately designed to hurt me, but she'd had an unfortunate knack of attracting trouble for as long as I could remember, and I preferred a less complicated existence. I knew I couldn't express that sentiment to Lee without sounding cold and unkind, but life was always that bit more difficult with Emily and her host of problems around, circling like sharks on the periphery. I'd met many people like her over my years in the police force, and it was never their fault, but ultimately they always ended up as another one of life's born victims.

'I need coffee so strong you could stand a spoon up in it and something disgustingly sweet and pastry based for breakfast. Any suggestions?'

I turned my head to look at him and he mimicked my scowl, lightening my mood instantly.

'There, that's better. You could pass for thirties again now!'

He dodged the punch that I aimed at his arm.

'I vote for the Pump Rooms. They'll just about be opening up by the time we get there, although at the speed you're moving I could always hop on your back and you could sprint down the motorway to London instead if you prefer!'

He laughed and earned another begrudging smile from me in return.

'Pump Rooms it is then, but I reserve the right to bitch about my sister when we get there, whether you like it or not, okay?'

BOOK: Grind Their Bones
5.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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