Authors: Mark Pearson
Campbell hesitated for a moment as Morgan
moved backwards, giving the marksmen a clear
shot at him. She swallowed and nodded to the
waiting snipers.
'Take him down.'
The marksmen trained their rifles, relaxed their
breathing and caressed the steel curve of their
triggers just as Delaney moved in front of Morgan
again, blocking their view.
'Take the shot!' Bonner shouted.
'Shit!' Campbell glared at him. 'What in the name
of sweet fuck do you think you're playing at? Are
you trying to get Delaney killed?'
Bonner shrugged unapologetically. 'They had a
chance, they could have taken Morgan out.'
Campbell was about to say more, but the sight
of a Sky News mobile camera van parking further
up the road stopped her dead in her tracks.
'What moron fuck tipped those clowns off?'
But as the tall figure of Superintendent Walker
walked hurriedly towards her, with Melanie Jones
hard on his heels, she had her question answered.
'Do you think it's wise to have cameras here,
sir?'
'They've been behind us on this from the beginning,
Chief Inspector. Their help has been
invaluable.'
Campbell threw the reporter a pointed look.
'What help? Delaney tracked the girl down both
times.'
Walker glared across at the barge. 'What is he
doing on there?'
'Morgan's poured petrol all over it. Delaney's
playing the hero.'
'That man is a liability.' Walker looked at the
armed officers. 'Have they had a clear shot?'
Bonner nodded. 'Almost.'
Walker's scowl faded as the cameraman arrived
and Melanie Jones moved forward to interview him.
'Come on, Howard. Put the lighter down.'
Morgan had tears in his eyes. 'I'm done talking.
Get off of my boat.'
'No one's going to hurt you.'
Morgan pointed out of the window to where he
could see Candy waiting by the uniformed police.
'She hates me. She's going to make Jenny hate me.'
'Is that why you were taking Jenny away?'
Delaney fought to keep his voice level.
Morgan's shoulders slumped slightly. 'I don't
want Jenny hating me like she did.'
Delaney stepped forward. 'Let her go then.
Let Sally take her off the boat. We can sort this
out.'
Sally moved to the side of Delaney and held her
hand out again to Jenny, who took it but didn't
move from the table, which she kept in front of
her like a barrier.
Morgan looked at his daughter. 'I always loved
you, Jenny.'
Sally crouched down and smiled reassuringly at
the girl. 'Come on. We're going to be just outside.'
Howard said nothing, but the arm holding the
lighter relaxed as Sally led Jenny off the boat.
Delaney stepped forward to take the lighter, but
Howard stiffened, holding it up again. Delaney
breathed in, the petrol in the air tasting of bad
memories. Tasting of an opportunity to put all
those bad thoughts that tumbled constantly in his
brain behind him once and for good.
Morgan's eyes darted back and forth again as he
stepped back. 'It's time for you to get off my boat.'
'Come on, you don't have to do this.'
'It's over, isn't it?'
'Is this how you want her to remember you?
Setting yourself on fire? Don't you think she's
been through enough?'
Morgan's hand trembled as he held the lighter
up. 'I'll do it.'
Delaney stepped right into Howard's face.
'Then fucking do it! Put us all out of our misery.'
Morgan took a step back, surprised. Delaney
snatched the lighter out of his hand and started
flicking the wheel in his face.
'Is that what you want, is it?
Morgan backed up against the table. 'What are
you doing?'
'Pest control. It's what I'm good at. Do the
world a favour if I torched us both.'
He flicked the wheel again and laughed as
Morgan almost whimpered, 'Don't do it.'
Delaney gripped the lighter in his fist, squeezing
it. Then stepped back and jerked his head toward
the exit.
'Go on, get out of my sight.'
Morgan stumbled to the door as Delaney
looked at the lighter in his hand and threw it hard
across the cabin.
A flurry of uniforms and noise. Blue and black
uniforms, padded jackets. A lot of shouting way
past a time when the urgency implied would have
been any use. Superintendent Walker making sure
he was prominent in the shot as Morgan was
bundled off the boat and led away.
Inside the barge, for a moment or two Delaney
looked down at the open petrol canister on the
floor, his eyes slate dull. He glanced across at the
bench that Jenny had been sitting on. A ragged
teddy bear was tipped upside down on the corner
of it.
'Boss?'
Delaney looked up at the window. 'On my way,
Sally.' He walked over to pick up the teddy bear
and followed her to the exit. Stopping at the fore
cabin to pick up the DVD he'd seen earlier.
Sin
Sisters
. He turned it over so he could see the cover.
The two women on the front were dressed in
miniskirted, latex nun's outfits, one with a riding
crop in her hand and a shock of curly black hair
and laughing eyes. Jackie Malone. And the
woman with her, heavily made-up, with a wig to
match Jackie's hair. Melody Masters, according to
the credits.
He slipped the DVD into his pocket and
stepped off the barge, walking out into the
golden light of the setting sun and the furious
gaze of Diane Campbell as she bore down
towards him. Ignoring her, he watched Morgan
as he was led by uniformed officers to a waiting
police van.
'What the hell do you think you were doing in
there, Delaney?'
'Excuse me a minute, ma'am.' Campbell was
left speechless as Delaney walked to where Jenny
was standing with Candy and a couple of uniformed
officers.
'Here you go, Jenny, I think he's yours.'
Delaney handed the teddy bear back to Jenny,
who took it and hugged it as if she was a much
younger girl. Today, he figured, she did feel a lot
younger. In the days to come, the years ahead, she
would come to realise that what had happened
could have made her so much older.
Delaney put his hand on Sally's shoulder. 'You
did well.'
'Thanks, boss. It's a good result. Celebratory
drink?'
Delaney looked over at Campbell as she shouted
into her mobile phone, and hesitated. If he could
face down a psychopathic mechanic with severe
emotional difficulties and a homicidal history, he
supposed he could face his boss. But as Campbell
closed her mobile, Superintendent Walker
approached her with his pet Sky News reporter
close behind. Delaney turned to Sally.
'Come on then, before people start asking
questions.' And he led her behind a bank of
uniforms and away.
Kate Walker lay on her bed, the covers thrown
back, fine beads of perspiration dotting her
forehead. She moaned softly in her sleep and
twisted her body for the hundredth time in half an
hour. In her dream she was walking up a familiar
staircase, broad oak steps with a large hall below
her on the right. The staircase turned to the right
and led up to a wide corridor. A procession of
portraits marched uniformly along the wall, and
at the end of the corridor a wide, panelled white
door stood slightly ajar. Kate walked slowly
towards it, her bare feet soundless on the thick pile
of the rich green carpet. She put her hand on the
door, opened it further, and walked into the room.
A pool of blood reached out, almost kissing her
bare toes. And at the top of the elliptical pool was
the fanned hair of Jackie Malone, her eyes still
wide and uncomprehending, her pale skin still
horribly violated.
Kate awoke with a start. She remembered where
she had seen a murder scene like it before, and
realised why Jackie Malone's body had swapped
places with the corpse in her dream. Her dreams
were telling her something, and she felt a chill run
through her veins as she realised what it was.
Delaney groaned as he swung his feet off the sofa.
He figured one of these days maybe he'd wake up
without a hangover. A quick couple of drinks with
Sally Cartwright had turned into a few more, and
when Sally left for a relatively early night, Delaney
carried steadily on. He finished up at about four
o'clock in the morning and was poured into the
back of a taxi by a large Irishman called Liam,
who bounced at a pub in Queen's Park called the
Greyhound, famous for its regular late opening
hours and just as regular fights.
Tipping some cereal into a bowl, Delaney
opened the door of his fridge and winced as he
stepped back. He didn't have to take the bottle out
to realise the milk had gone sour. He snapped up
his jacket from the sofa and the DVD he had taken
from Morgan's boat fell out and clattered to the
floor. He picked it up, glanced at the cover briefly
then put it in a sideboard drawer. He closed the
drawer and took a step away, but then turned back
and opened it again. He took out a small packet of
white powder, licked his finger and dipped it in,
then ran the powdered finger round his gums. It
would numb the feeling there but it would spark
his brain up a little at least, and Delaney figured
he'd need his senses about him today. He dipped
his finger again, just enough to keep him sharp,
and put the cocaine back in the drawer.
He switched his mobile phone on, and some few
seconds later, as he was locking his front door, it
rang. He answered it and immediately held it
away from his ear, wincing as Campbell's voice
barked out at him.
An hour and a half later, Delaney was drumming
his fingers impatiently, looking at the bland face
of Detective Inspector Richard Hadden and not
particularly caring for what he saw. He'd been
sitting in Hadden's stark and windowless office
being interviewed by the man about Jenny and
Howard Morgan for over half an hour now, and
was sick of the sight of him. Hadden was five nine,
with fair, thinning hair, trendy glasses and the
kind of smug expression that made Delaney want
to pick up his coffee mug and smash it straight
into his face. Only trouble was, assaults against
fellow officers were just the sort of thing Hadden
investigated.
Instead Delaney fought down his urge for
violence and summoned a weary smile. 'Like I
said, Richard, I acted as I did to save the life of a
young girl.'
'It could well be that you put that girl's life in
danger. For goodness' sake, Inspector Delaney. I
know you call yourself Cowboy, but this isn't the
wild west. You can't go taking the law into your
own hands.'
'I don't call myself anything of the sort. I did
what I did because I had to make a decision. And
I made the right decision.'
'The review will see about that. We have protocols
for a reason, Detective Inspector.'
Hadden wrote calmly in his notebook, ignoring
Delaney for a moment or two, and then looked up
at him with a cold smile.
'It's little more than a week since we had to
interview you about other irregularities with
police procedure, isn't it?'
'That was bullshit too, and you know it.'
Hadden smiled again, and again Delaney
wanted to give him a serious dental bill. Hadden
looked down at his notes and shrugged. 'A kilogram.
That's a lot of nose candy still missing from
evidence.'
Delaney laughed out loud, despite himself. 'Nose
candy? What's up, Richard, they send you off to
jargon school? You actually thinking of doing
some proper police work? Getting the lingo right
so you can rap with the gangstas?'
'Your attitude isn't helping your cause.'
'What are you going to do? Charge me with
saving the girl's life?'
Hadden closed his notebook and stared at
Delaney for a long, condescending moment. 'We'll
let you know what we are going to charge you
with when we decide.'
'Whatever tickles your pickle, Richard.'
Delaney stood up and walked out of Hadden's
office as fast as he could, before he could say or do
anything he might regret.
As Delaney walked back into his own office, he
was surprised to see Kate Walker sitting at his desk,
and a little annoyed.
'Can I help you with anything?'
Kate picked up on the shortness of his tone and
stood up. 'You could start by losing a bit of the
attitude. I've come with some information I
thought you might find useful.'
Delaney nodded a little guiltily. 'Sorry. Bit of a
bad morning.'
'I heard you were in with DI Hadden.'
'That's right.'
'I always thought the man was an insufferable
prig myself.'
Delaney smiled. 'Close enough. What have you
got for me?'
Kate pointed at the murder scene photographs
that she had left on Jack's desk. 'Jackie Malone.
The way her body was mutilated. The positioning
of her body.'
'What about it?'
'I've seen it before, Jack.'
'Where?'
Kate handed him a DVD.
The House of Knives
.
'It's a classic sixties French film. A black-and-white
art-house slash and gore. There is a woman
mutilated and murdered in it in exactly the same
way as Jackie Malone.'
'You think it's a copycat killing?'
Kate looked at him. 'No. As you know, Jackie
Malone's injuries were post-mortem.'
'So . . . ?'
'So I think what you have here, Jack, is a seriously
sick film buff.'
Diane Campbell was at her window lighting up a
cigarette when Delaney knocked and entered her
office. She glared at him. 'What the fuck happened
out there yesterday, Jack?'
'Yeah, good morning to you too, boss.'
'Save it, Delaney. I'm not in the mood.'
'We got the girl back, didn't we?'
'You should have waited.'
'If I'd waited he could have got away.'
'You don't know that.'
'You're right, I don't know that. In fact, he
probably wouldn't, in which case he was quite
prepared to kill his own daughter, set light to the
boat and blow them both halfway across Essex.'
'We have people trained in hostage negotiation
for a reason, Jack.'
'Yeah, because we're too damn scared just to
take them down first chance we get. And don't tell
me that what happened at Stockwell station has
got nothing to do with that.'
Campbell glared out of the window. Finding no
answers in the car park below, she looked back at
Delaney and sighed. 'And what's happening with
Jackie Malone?'
Delaney shrugged and gestured noncommittally.
'We think we're looking for at least two of them.
Nothing concrete as yet.'
Campbell took a long last pull to finish her
cigarette and flicked it out of the window. 'Your
connection with her? Anything you want to get off
your chest?'
Delaney helped himself to a cigarette from
Campbell's packet on her desk and joined her by
the window. 'Like what?'
'Come off it, Cowboy. She calls here looking for
you. Repeatedly. Next thing she's lying in our
deep freeze with more holes in her than a Swiss
cheese on fondue night.'
'I didn't see her.'
'Why was she trying to get hold of you?'
Delaney blew a stream of smoke out of the
window. 'Seems like she was worried about
something.'
Campbell snorted drily. 'Seems like she had good
cause.'
'That's what Dr Walker said.'
'Kate Walker meets a lot of people who clearly
had good cause to be worried.'
'I know.'
'So why did Jackie phone you? If it was a police
matter, why not speak to Eddie, or anyone else on
the shift?'
Delaney shrugged.
'There's nothing in your relationship with this
woman I should know about?'
'If there was, I would be telling you.'
She looked at him for a moment or two and
then shrugged. 'I've got a meeting. Why don't you
walk me to my car?'
Delaney nodded and fell into step beside her as
they walked out of her office and then headed
downstairs toward the front office and the car
park.
'What exactly was your relationship with her
then?'
Delaney scowled. Not at the question, but at the
memories it brought. 'For Christ's sake, Diane,
I've told you, there was no relationship.'
'It's no big deal if you visited her. As long as we
know. It can't have been easy for you.'
'Excuse me, ma'am but that's . . . if you'll
pardon the expression, a load of horse shit you're
shovelling there.'
'It's not me holding the spade. And it's not me
that's got a strong smell of the country about him
right now.'
Delaney stopped and looked at her. Like
Campbell, he had been a cop far too long not to
pick up on the importance of things unspoken.
'What all this about, ma'am?'
'You've got your promotion board next week,
Cowboy. And after the last debacle I just want to
make sure no skeletons are going to come dancing
out of the closet, rattling their chains.' She smiled
at him, the corners of her eyes softening. 'Or
should I say their whips and chains?'
'It's not funny, ma'am.'
Campbell halted, pulled up by the plain criticism
in his tone. 'No, you're bloody right, it isn't.'
Delaney shrugged apologetically. 'I don't know
why she called. I'm assuming she was scared,
needed my help. I don't know why it was only me
that she thought could help her.'
'Never assume, Detective. It makes an ass out of
you.'
'I intend to find out the truth. You can depend
on that, and you can depend on me.'
She nodded again. 'I had to ask. Someone took
that cocaine out of evidence and the finger was
pointed at you.'
Delaney swung the door shut behind them as
they headed into the car park and across to the
chief inspector's car. 'Hadden only takes his finger
out of his arse to point it at me, but my record's
clean.'
'Like I said. I'm not the one holding a spade.
Just don't make the mistake of thinking that you
don't have enemies in the force, Jack.'
'That was all a load of shite and you know it.
Do I look to you like I use the stuff?'
Campbell looked at him closely. 'We all deal
with our demons.'
'Yeah, well, it's strictly Bell's, book and candle
with me.'
'Whoever lifted a kilogram of grade A cocaine
from our stores probably didn't do it to powder
his own nose.'
'Or hers.'
'Or hers,' the chief inspector agreed, and got
into her car. Delaney watched as she gunned the
engine and pulled swiftly away from the car park,
darting into the traffic like a salmon heading back
to its spawning ground.
Delaney walked back into the building. He
nodded absent-mindedly to PC Dave Patterson,
walking past him to the custody booking area and
beyond that to the evidence holding store. He
quickly tapped the entry code into the security pad
and walked into a brightly lit, windowless room.
A large counter stood in front of him, behind
which were the shelves and wire-caged storage
areas for evidence seized during arrests.
The officer on duty was a thirty-two-year-old
brunette called Susan Halliday, who had Marilyn
Monroe's body and an even brighter smile. Many
was the time Delaney would have flirted with her
but knew there was no point. Susan had been
living with his boss for over four years now, the
most open secret at the station. Delaney honestly
didn't know why Diane Campbell was always so
grumpy in the mornings.
Susan Halliday flashed her brilliant orthodonture
at him. 'Sorry, Jack, your usually drugs delivery
hasn't arrived this week.'
'That's not funny, Susan.' Delaney's smile belied
his answer.
'So what can we do you for, sir?'
'I just want to look at the evidence log for the
Jackie Malone crime scene.'
'Sure.'
She went to the records area, pulled out the
relevant file and extracted a couple of sheets of
paper, which she handed to Delaney.
Delaney ran his eyes down the list of items taken
from Jackie's flat. He read the list twice to make
sure, but he was quite right. Among the list of
DVDs was
Head Girl
,
Crime and Punishment
,
Spunk Junkies
. But
Sin Sisters
, which he remembered
seeing on the night of Jackie Malone's
murder, was very much conspicuous by its
absence.
'Everything all right, sir?'
Delaney smiled. 'Absolutely perfect.'
But the expression on his face as he walked back
into his office told a different story. Bonner hung
up the phone as Delaney entered the room.
'What's up with you then, boss? You look like
you've got a pain somewhere only a doctor should
be looking at.'