‘The tools, gardening tools… symbolic, yes, symbolic… but what? Planting, getting ready to grow? Cutting down? Adapted to, to surgical instruments… Yes… flowers, nature, everything natural… pruning? Growth cycle, yes… ’
She turned to Phil, addressed him directly. ‘The cage. The bones. You think they’re human?’
Startled, it took him a few seconds to respond. ‘Well, we think there’s a good chance… ’
‘Right.’ She turned away again. ‘Old, some of them. Old. Been there years, decades, probably… yes… ’ She moved up close to the cage. Stared at it. ‘What does this mean? Planning. That’s what it means. Planning. Preparation.’ She closed her eyes. ‘A controlled – and controlling – intellect is at work here. He’s clever. He’s patient. A strategist. He’s been planning this for a long time.’
‘You think… he’s been doing this for a while?’
‘I do.’
‘How long?’
She straightened up. Opened her eyes wide. Stared once more at the bars of the cage. Like she was waiting for them to speak to her.
‘Years.’ She reached out, touched the bones. ‘Decades… ’ Incredulity, fear in her voice. ‘Never been caught… ’
She shook her head.
‘A record, would he keep a record… probably not. At least, not in the way we understand it. No, I don’t… unless… ’ She turned round once more. Looked at the back of the room. ‘The flowers… different blooms, different times of year… the flowers… Maybe they’re… I don’t know… ’
Then turning, back to the cage.
‘There’s a confidence about what’s been happening here. What he’s been doing.’ She reached out once more, touching the bones. ‘This… this is a progression. And that’s fine, that’s what an established pattern… what usually happens. But often in cases of a serial nature, the perpetrator begins to unravel the more he goes on. Like he wants to make mistakes, wants to be caught, stopped… ’ She stroked the bone bars. ‘But not here… ’ Stroking and stroking. Gently, slowly. ‘Here… is control. Ritual. Honed. Perfection. The quest for perfection… ’ Still stroking. Caressing. ‘Perpetrators often stop when they get older,’ she said, her voice almost at a whisper, ‘but not here. Not him. He’s been doing this a long time. For a reason.’
‘What reason?’
‘I don’t know. But he thinks it’s an important one. More than just for his own gratification.’
‘But I thought all serial killing had sex at the heart of it.’
‘Yeah, pretty much.’
‘So?’
I’m not saying he doesn’t get his kicks from this. Just that he’s gone so much further than that. And there’s something else.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t think he’s going to stop.’
28
‘Unless we stop him,’ said Phil. ‘Catch him and stop him.’
‘Yes,’ said Marina, turning to him as if released from a trance. ‘There is that.’ She gave a small, tight smile. ‘But that’s your job.’
‘No pressure there, then,’ said Phil, looking to Marina like he was composed entirely of pressure. He looked to have aged years since she had seen him in the morning.
She had to say something, talk to him. ‘Look, Phil, what’s-’
‘Please,’ said Phil, his voice small, barely a whisper. ‘Not here. Not now.’
‘But when?’ She gently placed her hand on his arm. ‘What’s the matter?’
He sighed. Like Atlas shrugging. ‘I can’t… ’
‘Phil. This is me you’re talking to. Me.’ Eyes locked on his. ‘You can tell me.’
His eyes tried to stay on hers, kept jumping round like they were being electrocuted. ‘I… I can’t. Not now.’ Then another sigh. ‘I don’t even… ’ He snapped his head up. ‘No. Come on. Let’s… we’ve got work to do. Come on.’
‘OK… but-’
‘How did he get here?’ Phil’s voice sudden, abrupt.
‘What?’
‘The boy. How did he get in here? If this was a holding cell, he can’t have been here for long.’
She looked at him. He had never closed her out like this before. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘OK. The boy. Well… OK. What I think. He couldn’t just walk in with him, in broad daylight, could he?’
‘I doubt it. And there’s a fence all the way round. No entrance.’
‘So the road is out. Unless it was at night, and that might have looked suspicious. There’s the other path down to the allotments; where does that lead?’
‘To a housing estate on the Hythe. But it’s badly lit, overgrown, lots of bushes. Mugger’s paradise. And it’s alongside the river.’
‘There you are, then.’
‘What, he came down the path?’
‘No. The river. This house backs on to the river. He could have moored a boat beside the house, got the boy out of there.’
Phil rubbed his chin, paced the cellar floor. ‘It would fit… ’ He turned to Marina. ‘What you said before. Nature. Cycles. Could the river have anything to do with that?’
‘Very possibly.’
‘Right… ’ More pacing. ‘Then there’s just one more thing.’
‘What?’
‘Where did he get the boy from?’
Marina gave a thin smile. ‘That’s for you to find out. You’re the policeman. I’m just the profiler.’
‘But you’ve spoken to him.’
‘I know. And he’s a long way from telling us anything useful.’
They stood in silence.
‘I’ll get an official report made up,’ she said eventually. Looked at her watch. ‘I’d better pick up Josephina.’
Phil told her he had spoken to Don. He and Eileen were holding on to her a bit longer.
‘Good. That helps.’
Another silence. Marina looked at Phil. His eyes were roving round the cellar. Not because he was looking for anything in particular, she thought, but because he was avoiding looking at her. Why? He wouldn’t talk to her, tell her what was wrong. Had coming down here, seeing the cage and the boy, upset him that much? Did he just not want to say that in front of his team? She hoped so. Hoped it was something like that.
Anything more than that, she didn’t want to contemplate.
She reached out her hand once more. Perhaps anticipating it, he turned.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘let’s go.’ Walked up the cellar steps. She stood for a minute, watching him go.
This wasn’t like him. Not at all. It must be something big for him to keep it from her, whatever it was.
After all, she was bound to him. She knew that, had never felt it for any other person. A real, true love. A soulmate’s bond. But with that came fear. Of something going wrong. Of one of them dying.
Or of some darkness enveloping them. They were two damaged souls who had recognised each other, clung together. What if that darkness returned? Resurfaced, destroyed everything they had in the present?
The tightrope fraying and fraying…
