Beyond the Blood Streams Page 10

  Berg continued shouting into the radio as I managed to lift Hallberg to his feet.

  “Did you see anything?” I asked.

  “We were both walking in this direction and I got hit from behind, man. That was it, I was out for the count.”

  “Did you see what happened to Paine?”

  “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “Where was she when you got hit? Think about it.”

  “She was -” he stopped to think about it and I could see him struggling to picture it but he got there. “I was a little bit in front of her, by about two feet.”

  “So she was behind you?”

  “Yeah, I'm sure of it but not by much, I could see her in my peripheral vision.”

  “Did she go down before you or after?”

  Hallberg looked over at Berg who was now shouting to the two officers by the entrance.

  “I don't know.”

  “Come on Hallberg, before or after?”

  “I went down first and I think I briefly saw her standing as I fell but I might have been seeing things. Are you putting stuff in my bloody head?”

  “So someone's taken her then.” I looked around at the never-ending tombs and mausoleums. “Shit!”

  “I'm sorry, man,” Hallberg said.

  “What you sorry for?” I said.

  “Letting you down.”

  “Why would you be letting me down?”

  “Because regardless of what my partner thinks, I know you're a good man, he just likes to hold a grudge is all. Keeps him sane, you know. Makes him feel alive.”

  I patted him on the back, “don't pass judgement just yet.”

  Berg traipsed back towards us, “where's Paine?” he asked.

  “They're still in the park,” I replied

  “I've got five cars coming in and a helicopter in the air in five minutes.”

  “They've gonna be gone before then.”

  “What would you have me do, Lake? Huh? This ain't just a game for you, this is real life and I don't give a shit about your credentials. You're not a damn detective so stop acting like one.”

  The other two officers reached us and assisted Hallberg to the entrance and their waiting car, to rest before the ambulance arrived.

  I dropped to my haunches and brushed some of the stones and mud away to one side. Then I remembered the hospital wristband I'd found in the tunnel and tried to piece the clues together. But my phone started ringing and it took me away from any thought process I had been putting together. I looked at the screen.

  It was a blocked number.

  “Berg!” I shouted.

  “No, I've had enough of your bullshit.”

  “BERG!”

  He turned and looked at me, I showed him the phone and he came to look at it.

  “Lake, it's a blocked number, what you shouting for?”

  “The only time I've ever received an incoming call with a blocked number was from the girl in my cellar.”

  Berg understood immediately. He grabbed his radio and pressed the record button then held it close to my phone as I tapped the speaker-on setting.

  “Harrison Lake,” I said calmly into the device.

  There was no immediate answer.

  Then suddenly a synthesised voice spoke through the phone, making me jump ever so slightly.

  “You have 36 hours before Megan Paine is spread throughout the Blood Streams.”

  Okay Harrison, play this cool, don't do the obvious.

  “36 hours to do what?” I said, not even questioning who he was.

  “Stop me.”

  “Where's Stansey King?”

  “Where she belongs.”

  “How do you know me?”

  “Midnight tomorrow, and it's game over.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “A note in Detective Hallberg's pocket will guide you through the darkness.”

  “Who are you?” I interjected.

  I looked over at Hallberg who was already near the entrance, then I clicked at Berg to get the note and he ran off.

  “36 hours Mr. lake, or you'll be responsible for another life lost to the Blood Streams.”

  The call went dead.

  Twenty Five

  It was no surprise I was called in to see Superintendent Salt, as suddenly the investigation had taken on a far more serious turn. I was sitting in his office, awaiting his return to talk to me.

  If bodies in the canals were bad enough then a dead detective showing up was front page news immediately, all over the country and maybe the world. When one of their own went missing, the Metropolitan Police Force took it personally. They saw it as an attack on their own ideals and systems.

  I had never met Salt before but heard his presence was intimidating to say the least. He had a dedicated demeanour about him from what I'd seen in the news and he certainly knew how to lead his force – most of the time.

  The door opened and Salt walked in calmly to sit in front of me. He had a neat but slightly rugged beard, about an inch long all over, a small moustache and short brown hair. He wasn't the smallest guy on the block but he held his weight well. He was a good half-foot taller than me and I thought I was tall at just over six feet.

  “Harrison Lake,” he said matter-of-factly in his North-London accent. “I wondered when our paths might have crossed and I for one am sorry that we have to meet like this. You're here because Detective Megan Paine trusted you and she doesn't trust people lightly, so that tells me all I need to know. You found yourself in a situation and worked to get out of it, I respect that.”

  “Begging your pardon, but this situation has just begun.”

  “Which is why you're here now.”

  His phone rang suddenly. He lifted the receiver and slammed it back down. Then he reached under his sizeable desk and yanked out the phone connection before pushing the phone off the table and sighing heavily. It crashed to the floor and I saw a plastic section fly off and hit the wall. I had a suspicion it wasn't the first time a phone had died at the hands of Salt.

  “Have I angered you?” I said.

  “Do I look angry to you?”

  “Little bit.”

  “It's because this thing is going sideways. We've lost control of these murders and it's going to make us a laughing stock to the country and the world.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “What do you know about the Blood Streams, Mr. Lake?”

  “Only what I've discovered and what Paine had let slip. You have a serial killer on your hands and seventeen bodies – at the moment. You're stuck because you want to put on a show of force but don't want the media finding this and splashing serial killer all over the tabloids.

  “Yet, you need to catch this guy as he's not gonna stop. You're angry because I'm involved somehow and you don't like the fact this is further out of your control than you wish it to be. And he's been two steps ahead of you this whole time. That about right?”

  Salt stood and moved to his window before stretching his back out and clicking his neck in both directions. The office was as bland as a Superintendent's office could be. Mostly everything was white apart from the desk which was a nice mahogany colour. The only other bit of colour aside from peripheral items was a large plant by the window, about two feet tall, reaching to the glass for a small bit of rare sunshine.

  There was an uneaten chocolate bar on the side of his desk and I was surprised I hadn't seen it before. It sure would have given me a little bit of an energy boost.

  “You gonna eat that? I've had a long morning.”

  He turned and frowned at me, “what?”

  I beckoned to the chocolate bar, “you gonna eat that?”

  “Yes, I'm going to eat that, it's my bloody chocolate bar.”

  I raised my eyebrows, “can we be civil about this? Beyond the obvious, what are you worried about?”

  “I'm worried about your Oculus running this story and bringing the media in.”

  “Oh I'm gonna
run the story but not until this bastard is caught.”

  “Not before?” Salt asked.

  “How would that benefit anyone?” I said.

  “What do you benefit from this?”

  “You think I'm gaining from this in some way? Has Berg bent your ear about me as it sure sounds like it?”

  “Berg is Berg, he always will be. I know how he works but I don't know how you work,” he said, with an enquiring eye.

  “Well clearly I didn't kidnap Paine as I was with Berg at the time and Hallberg wasn't up to it so we can strike us three off the suspect list. Cuz that's where I am isn't it?”

  He sat in his seat and put his elbows on the desk. He yawned ever so slightly but I resisted the temptation to yawn with him.

  “What's your stake in this?” he said.

  It took a moment to realise what he meant. “Knowledge,” I replied.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I wanna know why a girl claiming to be Stansey King was in my cellar. I wanna know who took Paine and I want to get her back. I wanna know what this has to do with me but more importantly; why the hell Jess Ashby had to die?”

  I calmed myself and sat back in the seat, taking a few deep breaths to relax the muscles all over. I found out only recently that deep breathing was good for my spine and back. If I puffed out every inch of my body and then practised deep-breathing then my back felt more awake and relaxed.

  “Read this and tell me if it makes sense,” he said.

  He passed over what I assumed to be the note that was in Hallberg's pocket. I shook my head gently and opened it in front of me.

  There is a pond deep in the heart of the ancient lands, far from prying eyes. Birds are silent and no real wildlife dare venture near it.

  It is devoid of all life, evil and insidious, with an atmosphere unpleasant beyond all reasoning. The sun never penetrates, keeping the waters black.

  To placate the evil, we must feed the Blood Streams of this world so that others can pass through the waters whole.

  It was handwritten and generally good grammar but it was a note so I wasn't going to delve too deep into that side of it. Pond? Was a pond the centre of his little world? I didn't know, it was too vague to focus too much on it. Stansey had mentioned a pond, but for the life of me I couldn't make any connections.

  “I take it you've had handwriting experts look at this?” I said.

  “One step ahead of you there but nothing yet. Does it ring any kind of bell with you?”

  I read it again, I wasn't sure what was being referenced and what was real about it.

  “I don't know, maybe he is talking about himself as the centre of this. Do all the blood streams flow towards him? Into him? Is he talking about his biological bloodstreams? He could be describing his home, his childhood, where he works. It's too vague to know immediately.”

  “Keep going.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you've already found more than other officers who have looked at this and because I believe this is right up your street.”

  I wasn't too sure what he meant by it but I had his confidence for some reason, so I continued.

  “I would research the ancient lands, see if anything there has relevance to the Regent's Canal. Nothing is firing off in my head about it. The bird's are silent?” I looked at Salt for any answer.

  “I'm at a loss and your input here would be grateful.”

  “Right, so the birds are silent.” Then it came to me, “pesticide? Pesticide kills birds, so maybe he's describing a farm. Could no real wildlife reference cattle?When he speaks of being devoid of all life, maybe he is suggesting that is how he sees the world.” I stopped as I didn't know how much he wanted me to speculate.

  “Anything else come to mind?”

  I placated his curiosity, and my own. “He seems to think by killing these people in the waters around the canal that he is appeasing something or someone. Maybe he thinks they are sacrifices needed to quiet a delusion within his mind. I don't know I'm not a psychologist or psychiatrist. But one thing's for sure, he's looking for fame.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “He referenced the Blood Streams but that moniker wasn't attributed by him, it came out of rumours and whispers among the locals. He's listening, watching us all the time, knowing where we'll be and how we'll do it. He already sees the infamy that comes with the name, he can hear it spoken about on the street but no one knows it's him. He wants to shout it to the world but he can't, he's waiting for the right moment. By referencing it in the note, it appears he is happy to be remembered by it. We're in his endgame now.”

  Salt breathed out loudly and put his hands behind his head.

  “It's two in the afternoon. The letter was found at exactly midday. We have until midnight tomorrow, just 34 hours to go before this bastard kills one of our best detectives.”

  I didn't reply because I didn't know where he was going with this. I wasn't going to stop looking for her and Jess's killer. I'd never be able to rest if I didn't put in my best effort now.

  He continued, “as a Superintendent, I do have certain powers at my disposal but they're not extensive. I've been speaking to my Chief Superintendent who took this issue higher with the Deputy Commissioner of the Met.”

  “Did I miss something? The Stansey King issue or the Blood Streams?”

  He was looking at me as if I knew what he was talking about, “we can provide temporary powers to you.”

  “In what way?”

  “Paine believed in you. She requested to keep you by her side.”

  “I thought you told her to do so?”

  “No, it was all Paine's doing. She mentioned it when your name first come up and things worked out in her favour I guess, at least to a point.”

  I smiled to myself, she really was two steps ahead of me and everyone else. Through all her bickering, she actually wanted me on board.

  “What kind of powers?” I said, with a little apprehension and just a hint of excitement.

  “Your Private Investigator License from ten years ago is suddenly active again. The government spends hundreds of millions on private investigator firms every year and you've just made the payroll. Your assignment is to find the Blood Streams killer and save Detective Paine. Assist the police in their investigation and solve this thing.”

  It was my turn to take a deep breath and breathe out loudly. I never thought I'd get it back.

  “What about my bail conditions?”

  “We don't want to arouse suspicion. If we suddenly drop your investigation then people will notice and we can't have that. If you thought we were complicated then the courts are something else. Your circle of restriction remains. If your investigation takes you out of it then talk to me and I'll see what I can do but I can't promise anything.”

  I took my phone out and instantly snapped a photo of the note in front of me before sliding it back across the desk.

  “So you're setting me free?”

  “We have just under 34 hours if this killer is to be believed. We're gonna tear apart the city to find her. I could do with someone like you who looks at things a little differently. Now, you can't arrest people but you can restrain them, you know the rules, nothing too much has changed in the past decade. This is temporary but it can be extended, just keep that in mind.”

  “I actually quite like my work at The Oculus.”

  “You're freelancing, it doesn't affect your work there. Can't say I've ever read it, don't intend to. I hear most of it from the Two Bergs anyway.”

  “So it caught on, eh?”

  He leaned forward, “Harrison, there's something about this killer that scares me a little bit.”

  I nodded to him and stood. Time was already running out.

  “Thank you for setting me free – as you put it.”

  “I like to think of it as unleashing you.”

  Twenty Six

  The clock was ticking.

  By the time I left the Hol
born Police Station, it was already three in the afternoon. Three hours in and I'd been unleashed. I liked that term, I felt as though it gave me free reign to get things done without limitation. The circle restriction still bugged me but I had a strong feeling that whatever was happening was taking place within the circle.

  My world, as Paine had put it.

  My Private Investigator License was active and in effect. I also had the legal buffer of passing any misdemeanours over to Salt. The net was already closing in, the timeline had been set. Those like the Blood Streams Killer never changed their timings, they were as precise as a master coder.

  His victim choice was bugging me more than it should. Generally serial killers are mostly men and target women. Victim selection mostly focused on sex workers, homeless people, runaways or those dependant on drink or drugs.

  Sex workers especially were a bigger target, a prostitute's death was always difficult for authorities to look into. For the simple reason that the girl might have been with multiple partners throughout the day and that alone made any investigation difficult.

  But this guy, and I say guy liberally as I wasn't sure it was a male serial killer, had such a varied victim selection that I was struggling to connect the dots. However, there was one name that kept coming back to me.

  Stansey King.

  She'd been the only one since the beginning whose mystery was larger than any other. Even the disappearance of Paine paled in comparison to Stansey King. It was a name that constantly rolled over and over in my mind.

  I had to ask myself the question; was Stansey King the killer?

  If she was, then it was a hell of an act and an incredible plan to get me involved. And there was the crux of it; I was involved and I had no idea who this girl was. So I went with the simplest belief that she had severe mental health issues and we needed to get to her sooner rather than later. I just didn't know how she would react if she saw me again.

  And now the note from the killer, or supposed killer. When had he put it in Hallberg's pocket? As he was unconscious on the ground or before he even entered the Cemetery? Maybe Hallberg had met the killer already and we just hadn't seen it.