Authors: Lee Cockburn
He had to duck down several times when he saw open curtains and people near to their windows and as he crossed over streets; every second vehicle driving past was a police car. They were hard at it but the trees and bushes gave anyone in dark clothing a chance of concealing themselves from view; their chances of finding him were now unfortunately low without a helicopter and that would have to fly from Glasgow.
Home at last, his body shook, every fibre touched with the thrill of the evening. Nearly being caught was exhilarating,
totally exquisite. He leant on the table on top of the barrel, and started to talk to his wife in a low voice, “Look what you’ve started. This was your doing. If you hadn’t left me I wouldn’t have to teach them respect, but I’m not finished yet.” He patted the surface of the table and took a beer from the fridge. Slumping onto the couch, he gulped greedily at the drink. His head rolled back and his eyes closed.
The Major Crime Unit, CID, uniformed officers and an ambulance crew were at the scene. The Scenes Examination Branch was also there, busy suiting up for the night ahead. Taylor and Marcus were also present in their white suits. They stood in the hallway, staring dumbfounded into the kitchen, Taylor looking at the horror scene before her, her hands trembling with rage and sadness. The feeling of failure inside her was now
overwhelming
. “He’s laughing at us you know, he’s taking the fucking piss, the arrogant savage.”
“We’re doing everything we can, Taylor!” exclaimed Marcus. “We’ll get him. He’ll make a mistake sometime; these assholes always do!”
They went up to the bedroom, wardrobe doors open, bed unmade, an open book at the end of it. Taylor instantly noticed the baton on the floor and a couple of dots of blood on the carpet and the wall. “She hit him and it must have injured him. There’s blood here and a bit there, showing that it was a decent shot. Poor soul - she fought hard to survive.”
“There’s DNA evidence in abundance again, enough to open
up his own lab, and not a thing we can do with it until he fucks up or we catch him.”
As Taylor walked around the crime scene her eyes watered with the grotesque signs of savagery all around her. She tried putting herself in Anna’s place, the terror she must have felt, as something, someone, that beast took her life from her. The signs of her struggle for survival, to try and escape from her captor, were everywhere. There was blood spatter up every unit and a pool of blood on the floor. His tools for his night of crime painted vivid, cruel and painful thoughts; Anna’s death had been hideous but all the things he had planned for her would have been even more horrific to endure, and then certain death anyway.
Taylor and Marcus left the scene and headed back to the office, silence taking over as they drove the short journey down to Fettes headquarters. The atmosphere was tense as the cobbled streets rumbled beneath them, the car tyres bouncing over them and giving therapeutic vibrations. Old four and five storey town houses rose above them, curtains drawn from the horrors of the night and those inside feeling safe within. With wealth surrounding them, it was a place that the people who lived there believed to be safe, but evil was just next door.
As they waited at the security gate, Taylor turned to Marcus staring at him, eyes filled with despair and emotion. “I can’t believe this is happening in our city. Things like this only happen in the States and in the movies. He’s not going to stop you know. We have to stop him. This is just the beginning and it’s just going to keep on happening.”
“I think we need to push the missing person thing further, we need to get a break at some time,” Marcus said wishfully.
“I feel useless, totally helpless. We’re failing the women of this city and there is fuck all we can do about it apart from sit and wait for this asshole to fuck up. We’re doing all the usual things but he seems to be one step ahead.”
Once inside the building, Taylor slumped down at her desk, her trays laden down with paperwork relating to the many other poor souls waiting to be helped. She cupped her face in her hands, eyes shut, head forward, her mind racing round everything that had happened and the ton of shit from the bosses that was heading her way. Things like this hit the press like a freight train. The people of the city would not feel safe in their
own homes and they’d want the police to reassure them that this man would be caught, which was something they weren’t able to say without embellishment. Marcus planted a coffee beside her on the desk. His eyes looked tired, his five o’clock shadow very obvious as it was nearly morning.
Workers on the early shift started to come into the building. They nodded their heads at each other as they passed the office, some would make the usual sarcastic comments about milking the overtime, others would show a little more sympathy for them, as they both looked totally exhausted. The stress of the enquiry was visibly taking its toll on them.
Kay entered the open-plan office, her hair a little windswept, her eyes bright and alert. She looked over at Taylor’s desk, something she could not help herself doing these days. The sight she saw was not one she expected; Taylor looked like shit. Her hair uncombed, she had obviously been up all night. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them, the whites of them were bloodshot and expressionless, her face painfully etched with sadness and stress. Taylor looked up slowly to see Kay looking directly at her. Her heart throbbed as their eyes met but she did not react. Her tired frame and worn out mind were unable to visually respond; her thoughts were too scrambled at the uphill struggle that lay ahead to stop this guy.
Inspector Findlay stormed in to the main office a few steps behind Kay, his stare directed at Taylor, his hand gripping that morning’s Scotsman newspaper with the headline, KILLER STALKS THE CAPITAL, THIS TIME HE SUCCEEDS”. The story captured the terror of the attack, the sadness at his success on his second attempt and the fraught battle that Anna Watt had braved to try to stay alive. The paper was always ahead of the game, the reporters knowing a little more than they should and were given because of some money-grabbing fool looking for a quick buck, risking their careers to expose just a little more information than initially offered and sooner than it should have been released. It would all be shared in good time, just not at the crucial investigation stage. Unfortunately, such articles gave the weird and disturbed cranks of the world the information they needed to make false claims, taking ownership of another’s deviance. Findlay, although blustering with rage, still had time to look down at Kay’s pert little bottom as she left the office
through the other door. This was noted by Taylor who shook her head in despair that he was her boss.
The inspector strode over to Taylor’s desk and stood directly above her, staring down at her oppressively, trying to intimidate; not a wise thing to do with Taylor, especially not that morning. She looked up at him with disgust etched in her face. His eyes were filled with anger, an expression of blame on his face - blame for Taylor, not himself.
What! What the fuck are you staring at
, she thought angrily. “Yes,” she said in a slightly disrespectful tone due to the body language he was displaying.
“Have you seen this, this fucking piece of shit? Who the fuck in your team opened their big fucking traps? This is a piss poor outfit, filled with loose mouthed fucking arseholes that have exposed every fucking minute of our progress, or lack of it, in minute detail. You better find out who the fuck it was or else. Find out who can’t keep their god damn gobs shut around here. No fucking wonder he’s fifty steps ahead of us every time. Useless twats.”
“That was a motivating little pep talk,” Taylor seethed at Marcus as Findlay turned his back on them. “And, I can’t believe it was one of us that blabbed. It was probably that fat bastard himself and he’s just covering his own back trying to look innocent.”
Findlay waddled back over. “How’s the enquiry going anyway? You’ve got a hundred-odd officers on it and you’ve come up with fuck all. You’d better get your finger out of your ass or you won’t be taking charge of this enquiry much longer, lady.”
“Surely you can’t blame me for this. We’ve followed up every fucking lead and some. There has to be a breakthrough sooner or later. He can’t leave that much crap behind him and not fuck up at some point, boss.”
“For your sake, he’d better.” Findlay was about to march away from Taylor, when she stood up straight as a board, her eyes filled with pure rage, and spoke, her fury untethered and wild, her words sharp and to the point.
“You listen to me and listen properly. I have already worked my fingers to the bone here and I am giving this everything, every bloody minute I have. I can’t sleep and I feel helplessly sick that we haven’t come up with anything yet, but it’s not for the lack of trying.” Taylor pulled down at her blouse in a gesture of rage.
“So don’t just sit there worrying about the lack of results,
waiting for your piece of luck to strike. Start working this case to get some luck.”
“That won’t happen if you’re gonna act like a fucking arsehole all the time. We’re doing the best we can, which is more than I can say for you, sitting waiting for us to get you the success you want, with all due respect, that is, Inspector!”
Findlay’s mouth was agape, disbelieving of what he had just faced, but he couldn’t think of what to say back and his hesitation was enough for Taylor to claim victory. Findlay paused a little longer and eventually said, “Take the rest of the day off. You need it to sort your shit out. One more episode like that and you’ll be back to uniform before you can say jack shit.” He pointed at Marcus. “That goes for you too. You both look like shit.”
Findlay stormed over to his office and slammed the door behind him, the walls shuddering as he went. Marcus looked at Taylor, his face astonished at what had just happened and what Taylor had said. Taylor looked up at him, about to speak but he cut in and said, “Well done girl. You certainly let him know how you feel and that he is a complete and utter asshole.”
“He deserved it. How fucking dare he speak to me like that? That fat bastard hasn’t even lifted a finger yet, lazy twat!”
“I’m going home. You’d better do the same. He’s right about one thing - we’ve got a lot of work to do. We owe it to them.”
“Sleep well and say hi to your wife for me,” Taylor said kindly to Marcus.
“I will,” he said, and smiled at her as she left. Taylor sat in her car and cried, her chest involuntarily moving up and down, her exhaustion spilling over into emotion, her sadness a mixture of painful thoughts of the murder and the feeling of total loneliness. She turned the key in the ignition and her phone beeped. It was a text, short and to the point: “Come to mine for dinner tonight, you look like you need a shoulder, Kay x.”
Taylor took a deep breath, sighing loudly, a little comfort now within her allowing her to relax and drive to her house, a lot of what she had felt a moment ago now lifted from her weary shoulders.
Once inside Taylor took off her clothes at the door, the pile portraying what she felt. Fatigue engulfing her, she walked into the bathroom naked and stared at herself in the mirror. The face looking back at her was unfamiliar, the ageing bruises from the
assault the week before still visible of the commitment to the case. She looked sad and tired. How low she felt was new to her, her usual success unapparent with this enquiry and the pressure was visibly bringing her down.
She walked through to the bedroom, slipped into bed and lay on her back motionless, her eyes open staring at the ceiling, her mind racing with the thoughts of her long night. Her hands gently stroked over her body in an attempt to comfort herself, but there was nothing to shake her negative mood. It was 9.30 am. Her eyes finally gave in to her tiredness and sleep took over, giving her mind peace at last.
Evening came. Taylor stood in the shower, hot water covering her body, the relief of it penetrating her soul, her mind drifting off to the evening ahead. She pulled on loose fitting jeans, a nice set of underwear and a tight fitting white t-shirt. She sprayed herself with a unisex scent which was subtle but had a sensual aroma. She pulled on a long warm black coat, affording her the warmth a winter evening required but allowing her to be
underdressed
beneath.
Taylor picked up some nice red wine and a bunch of flowers and made the journey to Kay’s house. Eventually she found it, the number obscured by a lively shrub which prevented it being seen from the street. The house was modest but modern, a single storey building with large windows to the front.
She rang the doorbell rang. There was no answer. She tried again, tapping her foot against the step, not allowing herself to think the worst. The door finally opened and Kay stood in the doorway, her arm raised as she leant on the door frame, her face subtly made up, her features striking and her smile a little cheeky, but warm and inviting. She looked down at Taylor, a forlorn and tormented soul, not the lady she had shared a night
with not so long ago. Kay was wearing casual trousers, which fitted her neat figure, and a loosely hanging blouse that clung to her in all the right places, her nipples stiff with the bitter cold of the night. The low cut neckline revealed her perfect breasts.
Taylor glanced up at her, smiled back at last and stepped forward as she was invited in, Kay taking her coat from her and gesturing her through to the living room. Taylor was about to speak when Kay took the back of her head and kissed her on the lips, open mouthed and full desire. Their passion was overwhelming. Kay had not realised just how much she wanted Taylor. Their kisses were powerful and uncontrollable, Taylor’s stomach twisting with knots of lust, her hands taking hold of Kay’s hair, gently pulling her head further back allowing her tongue to delve into Kay’s mouth. Kay moaned loudly and her breathing got louder. She took hold of Taylor’s hand and led it towards her navel, guiding it beneath her panties and pushing it downwards wantonly. Taylor took over and her fingers now moist with Kay’s pleasure entered into her. Kay’s legs wobbled at the force of desire, the need to be taken over and over again. Kay was pushed against the chest of drawers and lifted up onto them. She wriggled out of her trousers, her panties now on one leg as Taylor’s relentless fingers, plunged deeper and deeper. Kay gripped her neck, moaning loudly, her breath stalling as the pleasure heightened. Taylor’s free hand grasped at her blouse, unclipped her bra and releasing her breasts. Her mouth now covered her nipple, sucking hard as her fingers slipped out of her and over her, then re-entered her with more vigour, repeating the motion to Kay’s pleasure. Kay whimpered softly as the pulse below was released with such force her face flushed a deep red, her orgasm curling over and over, a deep gripping sensation pulling Taylor into her. Taylor maintained her thrusts, not allowing Kay to come back down from her climax, creating a new warmth, a new need; Taylor wanted to take Kay again on her terms and give her a quicker and more feverish orgasm that rocked Kay to the core. Taylor dropped to her knees between Kay’s legs, taking her into her mouth, devouring her sweet pleasure, caressing every inch of her intimate flesh, her aromatic luscious scent drawing her into her. Kay gripped her shoulders so tightly Taylor jumped back a little but carried on until she eventually let go again; this time
Kay’s orgasm was so intense her body went into a spasm; she was completely overwhelmed by the power of the climax she had just experienced. The embrace that followed was needy for both of them, warm kisses filled with emotion and feeling. Taylor reached out her hand and helped her down from the chest and gestured towards Kay’s leg, her panties on her ankle. She smiled at her with a genuine warmth and they began to laugh together. Kay held her again and said, “You need to laugh more. Don’t let all this shit with the investigation bring you down. You looked a real mess this morning.”
Once they had put their clothes back on and poured some wine, they leaned back on the sofa, totally relaxed in each other’s company. They put on some soft music and talked and talked and talked. Each of them enjoyed the stories the other had to tell, listening and gesturing, an affection growing as the night moved on. The pain of the last few weeks paled into insignificance as the evening went on, both of them realising just how much they liked each other.
Kay got up and headed to the kitchen. She was opening another bottle of red wine when Taylor reached round her waist and kissed her neck softly from behind, their bodies swaying a bit. Kay breathed deeply and reached up round Taylor’s head and neck. They shared a deep, passionate kiss. Taylor pushed Kay gently against the fridge, their kisses powerful but sensual, once again the need for each other overwhelming. Taylor placed her hand firmly against Kay’s intimacy and Kay helped her by obligingly undoing her trousers again and letting her in. “You’re so wet,” Taylor exclaimed.
“That’s your fault for being so damn hot.” Lust again took control as she entered slowly into her once more, Kay’s bottom cold against the fridge door, creating an unexpected thrill. The sex this time was frantic and rushed, desire getting in the way of slow gentle loving. Sweat trickled down Taylor’s cleavage as she fulfilled Kay’s need more than once. They headed through to the living room and Kay landed full weight onto the sofa, one leg over the arm, her arms outstretched as Taylor followed her; over and over again Taylor pleasured her, on her front, her back - any way their bodies let them be loved, both of them wrapped up in each other’s desire, both of them enjoying the pleasure that the
other brought. Once spent, they lay back on the wide and comfortable sofa, arms round one another, the wine and exhaustion pushing them into a well deserved sleep where they lay.
Morning came too quickly. Taylor rubbed her neck, stiff from the night trapped under Kay’s arms, her head twisted against the arm of the sofa. Kay got up and walked to the kitchen, deliberately wiggling her bottom as she left the room. She glanced over her shoulder hoping that Taylor’s gaze would be upon her, and it was. A smile sneaked across her mouth. Taylor stared at her, aware of the warm sensation of fondness within herself. She rubbed a lock of her hair pretending that it was just a casual glance. Kay brought through two iced fresh oranges, a gift for Taylor’s dry palate, a sign of the fevered evening before.
“I’ve got to go,” Taylor said apologetically to Kay, “The boss said an evening off, not the week which means work, work, work, so no rest for the wicked!” She got up from the sofa, and Kay gave her a smouldering kiss on the lips which Taylor returned with equal affection, softly pulling away and making her apologies.
Taylor started the car and headed home to shower and change her clothes. As always she revved the engine more than necessary, driving a little quicker than acceptable for a police officer and offering a few choice words to those who dared get in her way. Her phone rang. It was Marcus; his voice sounded excited.
“There’s been a human bone found out in a copse of trees in East Lothian. They’re testing it for DNA as we speak. Someone’s dog found it and was about to eat it as a treat.”
“Why didn’t you call earlier?”
“I’m only just in myself. The night shift has been on it.”
“What size of bone was it?”
“They said it was a forearm. It still had decomposed flesh on it and other bits of bone.”
“I’ll be in as soon as I can, I need to get showered and changed.”
“Why would that be?” Marcus said in a glib way.
“Very funny! See you soon.”
Hair still wet, Taylor headed into the office. There was a frenzied buzz in the air, one of excitement at the bone being found earlier. This was the first decent lead since the enquiry began. Marcus was sitting at his desk, a picture of his wife and son taking pride of place beside the computer. Inspector Findlay
furiously paced up and down in his office. He desperately wanted a result in this enquiry, something that would show him up as competent and successful, which he was not. It would also take off some of the heat as those at the top were having to keep the needy press off their backs on a daily basis.
Taylor’s head spun and her double-take was apparent as Kay walked into the office not long after her. Marcus, very aware of the keen interest in Taylor’s eyes, informed her that more civilian staff had been brought in for the extra enquiry, which needed to be collated and filed using the Holmes system; this ensured that every lead was followed up, logged and any other action required to be carried out was created and filed through the process, making it easier to link and recall information when necessary. Marcus smiled at Taylor, her face obviously flushed with the acknowledgement of Kay’s arrival. Taylor looked at him, her eyes telling him to button it. Kay passed Taylor a glance as she sat at a desk in the far corner of the office; very subtle, but Marcus and Taylor caught what it meant.
Findlay popped his head out of the office. “You two,” his head nodded toward Taylor and Marcus, “Get down to the site where the bone was found. They’ve got search teams out there already. Take a look at the search parameters and see if they meet what we need, and if the search needs to be widened, then do what’s necessary. Who knows how far that bone has travelled.”
Taylor reached for her jacket, her face a picture. “He speaks to us like we’re stupid little kids, as if we weren’t going to go to the scene. He states the fucking obvious all the time. That dick is trying to regain the control he lost years ago, fucking asshole.”
Marcus drove up through Musselburgh just outside Edinburgh, past the race course, then out past Wallyford and onto some of the single track roads that led to the outlying farms that sat remotely on the hills.
“We’re fucking lost, you!” Taylor glared at Marcus.
“Calm down there boss lady. Three more lefts and we might be close.”
There was field after field of crops, fallow fields and boundary fences, sheep and cows in abundance, a farm house here and there, perfectly remote for a dumping site; remote and private and no street lighting for what might have gone down many weeks ago. The chance of being disturbed here was very unlikely. A few
more turns and they saw several protected police vans parked at the side of the road, police tape marking off areas where the public could no longer wander, restricted by the powers that be in an attempt to salvage what evidence they could.
Large areas of trees and fields had been sectioned off, areas made into easily identifiable grids for plotting all of the finds ensuring nothing was missed. Lines were taped at the outer edge of areas that had already been searched and the exact site of every item found plotted, easily identifying and describing the layout of the scene for those who did not have the luxury of attending at the site but could only view photographs taken.
Taylor introduced herself to the police search advisor, Sergeant Brown, and asked how things were going. He replied, “The area here is so vast it will take days to find a deposition site, that is if he even dumped the body round here. There are also large areas of brambles and thick undergrowth just over there, which will slow things down even more.”
“Serg, Serg, come and see this!”
The cop that came rumbling over was six foot four, with a muscular build and extremely sweaty. They’d been searching there for nearly four hours, only stopping for a swig of water here and there. The cops in the specialist support unit tended to be large in build as search was only half of what they were required to do. They were also responsible for drug raids, crashing doors, crowd control and high profile arrests, which required a more robust presence. Each and every one of them hoped that they would be going through the door of this killer sometime soon; it was insulting to them that such a sadistic arsehole was still walking about free, terrifying everyone in the city. “What have you got, Dan? Better be something good!”
“Don’t think you’ll be too disappointed, boss. We’ve all withdrawn using a single track for exiting, trying not to trample any more than we might have already. It’s this way, just over the brow of that hill. About what you’d expect really if he had to carry her from the road down there.”
“What? You can tell it’s female?”
“I’d say so but she certainly ain’t looking too pretty anymore,” he quipped with typical cop humour.
Taylor marched through the undergrowth, her nice leather boots taking the brunt of the undergrowth. Marcus held up the
bottom of his suit. The search team smirked as they arrived, enjoying the detectives getting their nice clothes dirty for once, usually so clean cut and thinking they were above everyone else. The search officer pointed the way and said, “Follow your nose, boss. You’ll find her.”
“Well done you lot. About time you earned your wages for once,” he said sarcastically. Single file, they made their way to the disturbed earth, the smell escaping from it was a putrid stench that was unmistakeably that of a corpse. Taylor retched a little, the red wine from the night before not helping her slightly weakened stomach. One of the search cops leaned over to his mate and commented, “What a lightweight. You’d think they would be able to handle a smelly body, with all the shit that they supposedly deal with.”
Taylor turned and glared at the group of men standing at the edge of the taped outer cordon, trying to work out which one had just commented. All of them stood there with fixed grins on their faces, silent mirth at the princess that stood before them, the rivalry very apparent between the different sections within the police.
Taylor leaned forward and openly boaked at what she saw. There was a skull exposed, with long blonde hair showing. Flesh was missing where predators had tried to rip it away from the bone. The lip were gone and teeth protruded. There were maggots in abundance and patches with no flesh at all. There was also a stump visible where her arm had been pulled from the earth and detached at the elbow, probably twisted off by a hungry fox. Taylor turned to Marcus. “Poor cow, fucking animal just dumped her like a piece of trash, and the lazy bastard spent very little time trying to hide her. He’s not frightened of what he’s done, that’s for sure. He’s almost showing her off.”