Parlour so he’s used the intervening time to doctor the food. The killer thinks the whole family will be there, but he’s wrong. Jason Wallis has gone out. Our killer delivers the boxes and then, we assume, he leaves to let the family tuck in. We don’t know if he knows about Jason’s absence but he may have found out.’
‘How?’ asked DC Gadd.
‘Steering the conversation to check if everyone’s there, pretending the boxes are about to spill if he doesn’t put them down inside the house. There are ways,’ answered Brook. He nodded at Noble.
‘Mrs Patel remembers looking again at 8.20 and the van was gone. By then the family are tucking into the pizzas. We’ll find out from Forensics this afternoon what each of them ate.
Our killer is confident that he can return later and get in without a struggle. The front door has bolts but at that time of night the door would only have been on the latch and any criminal worth their salt can get past an old Yale lock. It’s cold and dark and late when he returns, so he’s unlikely to meet many people. We don’t know if he pulls up to the front of the house in the van. Probably not. Certainly no-one sees him.
Our best estimate of the time he returns is between 11.00 and 11.30 because the music the killer puts on starts at 11.40 according to the next door neighbour, Mr Singh. Around that time the victims were killed-the PMs may fine tune that but don’t bank on it-and the music is turned up to full volume around midnight so it’s quite a small window with all he has to get done. At half past midnight the neighbour’s had enough and goes round to complain and finds the bodies.’
‘One thing, John-it may be nothing-but Mr Singh said the music was turned off some time between twelve and half past, then turned on again which means our killer may have left later than midnight.’
‘Why would he turn it off?’ asked Jones.
Brook shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Maybe he turned it down when Jason came back?’ said Aktar.
‘That’s a good thought, Constable. It would explain why Jason heard nothing when he got home.’ Aktar was thrilled with his contribution so Brook tried to let him down gently. ‘There’s just one problem with it.’
‘If Jason came back why didn’t he get his throat cut?’ said Jones softly. ‘It wouldn’t have been difficult in his condition.’
‘Right!’ said Aktar, trying not to look crestfallen.
Brook smiled at Jones. ‘Go on, John.’
‘So having returned, our killer probably has a small case or bag carrying a bottle of wine, two glasses, a corkscrew-in case the Wallises don’t have one-the murder weapon and-given the careful arrangement of the victims-possibly a camera,’ continued Noble, assuming credit for his superior’s observations. ‘He may have a change of clothes as well as the Van Gogh poster and a CD of Mahler’s Ninth Symphony. And before you ask, it’s not Bob Marley,’ he added with barely a glance at Brook. ‘Mahler’s a classical…’
‘He wrote nine symphonies, his last being the most famous. He was dying and knew it. He wrote it as his own requiem,’ continued Jones. ‘My dad’s a big fan,’ she explained, examining her shoes and missing Brook’s approving smile.
Noble, chastened, looked at Brook who raised an eyebrow. ‘Thank you, Constable Jones,’ said Noble. ‘Okay. Our man re-enters the Wallis household. And if he didn’t know before, he knows now that Jason isn’t there and could return at any moment. So he has to hurry.
‘We think he brings the baby downstairs and puts it in the cot. The girl is out cold where she lay, face down on the rug. He cuts the girl’s throat…’
‘Not yet, John.’
‘Sir?’
‘Not straight away. He revives Mr and Mrs Wallis before he kills the girl.’
‘He does?’ exclaimed Noble.
‘Oh yes. That’s vital. That’s what the wine is for. Remember the tear tracks. It’s important that Mum and Dad watch their daughter die. You can’t teach someone a lesson if they’re not paying attention,’ he added. ‘They watched her bleed out in front of them and knew
‘You’re kidding,’ said Aktar to nobody in particular. Jones also betrayed an exclamation of disgust although the undertone of anger was what hit Brook. He was impressed.
‘I suppose they couldn’t listen to the music or taste the wine if they were unconscious,’ she observed.
‘Exactly, Constable.’ The temptation for Brook to call her Wendy was becoming difficult to resist and he saw that she’d noticed it as well. Brook became self-conscious and decided to move things along.
‘To finish off for you, John, the killer goes about his work quickly. He’s annoyed because Jason’s not there. And it’s spoiling his vision, his creation, and he doesn’t know when or if he’s coming back. He can’t appreciate his work of art fully. He puts up the poster…’
‘What’s that in aid of?’ asked Aktar.
‘Probably to tell them he’s better than them because he appreciates art,’ Brook said. ‘Though it’s more likely he’s telling us. Anyway, he revives the parents. It’s not easy because he’s had to use enough juice to put them down and keep them there. He manages it but they can’t stand or call out. Perfect. All they can do is watch as he slices across Kylie’s throat.’
‘Doesn’t he revive the girl?’ asked Noble.
‘I don’t think so. She’s small and she’ll have felt the effects of the drug more than her parents. And he doesn’t need her to suffer, that’s for the parents. She’s an innocent. But she still has to die. She’s an essential tool for our killer who has no qualms about killing her or desecrating her corpse. So, to rub it in, he cuts her top down the back and cuts the word SAVED below her shoulder blades, while her parents watch.’ Jones and Aktar continued to listen but with heads bowed. The others simply stared at a convenient point on the wall.
‘The baby’s been brought down and he uses one of Mum’s lipsticks to write SAVED on its forehead. By now Bobby and Mrs Wallis have started to cry and struggle but can do no more than wriggle and empty their bowels. If he hasn’t put the music on before, he does so now.
‘He enjoys the music, but probably not the wine-he’s too intelligent to give us any useable saliva. Then he turns to the parents. I think he does Bobby last. He deserves to wait.
‘He cuts the throat of Mrs Wallis and watches Bobby’s reaction as she chokes on her own blood. The spray from her arteries hits Bobby, the carpet, the killer, everything. Maybe he steps back and takes photographs of the last moments, I don’t know. I’m just speculating but that’s what I’d do.’ Jones looked up at him sharply, but Brook was lost in thought. She glanced at the display behind his head, imagining what the killer’s own album might show.
‘Finally he turns to Bobby. He watches him struggle and smiles. He waves the scalpel, cut-throat razor, whatever it is, in the air, like a conductor with a baton, and closes his eyes to savour the music. Maybe he talks to him.
Brook stops for a moment as though frozen. Silence. Nobody moves. Nobody speaks. Nobody breathes. It’s dangerous to rouse sleepwalkers.
‘And after he cuts him?’
Brook snaked his eyes towards Noble. ‘He waits. Watches. Listens. To life ending. Then he dips his finger into the blood and writes his message on the wall. And it’s done.’
‘But because of Jason, he has to hurry.’
‘That’s right, Wendy.’ Brook was unaware of the slip. ‘He’ll need to change into fresh clothing or, more likely, take off protective overalls which are covered in blood. He wraps the weapon in his overalls, stuffs everything into his bag, turns the CD up and leaves before the commotion starts. Whoever finds the bodies will see a neatly organised execution posing as a cosy family scene. Minus Jason.’ Brook looked round. ‘Questions?’
Nobody could think of much to say at that moment. Finally DC Cooper made his first contribution. ‘How does the killer know the Wallis family have a CD player?’
‘He doesn’t. Maybe he’s got a small cassette player and a tape as well, just in case. But he can do without the music if he has to.’
‘And why kill the girl if she’s innocent?’ Jones asked, taking her hundredth glance at the photographs.
‘That’s his MO, Constable. Her death will serve his purpose because it makes the parents suffer so much more. Not only do they have to watch her life end, but they know they’ll be joining her.’
