Well, why dont we cut straight through the meat to the bones beneath, Cecelia my love? Bloods?
Cecelia pointed at the doorway by the kitchen. Biggest quantity was over there, and even then it was less than a teaspoon. Going by the little dots on the floorboards, it wasnt a gusher, more like a hammered thumb.
Semen?
Id prefer an ice cream, if its all the same to you?
Oh, were feisty, are we?
Nothing in the living room, bathroom, kitchen, or hall. Theres three sleeping bags in the bedroom, and theyre like large down-filled condoms. Scrape them clean and you could artificially inseminate half of Fife.
So our three property tycoons were enthusiastic onanists. Everyone needs to have a hobby. The little face pulled on a smile. Thats why I wanted to see the pornography, Cecelia. Is it the sort of thing to encourage Ben, Glen, and Bretts nocturnal manipulations, or was it put there by whoever left a drugged body floating in a bathtub full of brine? Alice?
Dr McDonald walked over to the window and held the phone up to the bits of magazines taped there.
Hmm... Interesting.
You see something?
No, I just didnt think anyone actually bought dirty magazines any more. You can download all this for free from the internet, what sort of idiot pays for it?
Its all heterosexual, well, I mean its mostly heterosexual except for the lesbian photoshoots and theyre basically only there to appeal to heterosexual men, so what I meant is that theres nothing that would suggest the three of them were involved in a romantic way.
Callum sniffed the air still had that mouldering sausage smell. Unless theyre overcompensating? Big display of testosterone: look how manly and laddish we are, and next thing you know theyre all running around sharing sleeping bags and playing with power tools.
Does it really matter? No one cares if they were gay or not. Cecelia pulled back the edge of her glove and checked her watch. Enders starts in eighty minutes.
Nobody cares unless that was why they were targeted, my dear Mrs Lynch. Im going to need you to scrape out those sleeping bags after all see if you can find evidence of sexual activity involving more than one person.
Her back bowed. Oh... lovely.
Over in the corner, Franklin stiffened as her phone launched into a strangled rendition of Dancing in the Moonlight. She snapped off one of her gloves and dug into her SOC suit, pulled her mobile out and turned to face the wall. Mark, this is not a good time.
Now, to the bathroom! Our friend Imhotep had to fill the bath somehow and I fancy well find some DNA on the underside of the taps. Easy to contaminate with biological residue, not so easy to clean.
Dr McDonald carried Professor Huntly out through the door and into the hall. Were not calling him Imhotep, were calling him Paddington, because of
The Peruvian-style mummies, yes, I know. But its hardly a name with dramatic connotations, is it? Paddington isnt someone who abducts people, drugs them, drowns them in a bath of brine, then smokes them to a fine wrinkly jerky. Not unless those marmalade sandwiches of his were laced with psilocybe semilanceata. And he wears a duffle coat! What self-respecting monster does that?
But the team agreed
Paddingtons a stupid name for a serial killer, Alice. At least Imhotep has a bit of gravitas about it.
Bernard, you cant just waltz in and rename our killer!
Cecelia hooked a thumb at the doctor and her phone. Are they always like this?
Bernard, you cant just waltz in and rename our killer!
Cecelia hooked a thumb at the doctor and her phone. Are they always like this?
I have no idea.
She slouched into the hall, after them. Your boy on the phones a dick, but hes right. Paddington is a stupid name. Jack the Ripper wouldnt have got where he is today with a name like Paddington.
There was no room for them in the bathroom, so they stayed in the hall.
So why are you really here? Callum leaned back against the wall, where the sheet of plasterboard used to live. Mother said SEB had finished with the crime scene ages ago. Nothing left for us to contaminate.
Ah... Cecelia rubbed the tips of her gloved fingers together, making them squeak. Dont take this the wrong way, but
Oh you have got to be kidding. Youre here because of me?
The Powers That Be said you couldnt access the scene unless someone from my team made sure you didnt get up to anything. And I can see you making faces at me behind your mask, so dont. She shifted her feet. Fiddled with her gloves some more. I know you didnt cock that last scene up, but everyone else thinks youre a liability.
Of course they did.
He let his head fall back until it thunked against the wall. Winced as a thousand bees sank their stingers into his ear. Ow...
So tell them the truth, Callum.
I cant. He lowered his voice, even though Franklin was still muttering angrily into her phone in the living room and there was no one else to hear. You said it yourself: one more strike and theyd fire Elaine. We need the money. If we didnt have her maternity pay coming in, with the mortgage, and the credit card debt, and all the stuff weve got to buy for the birth and babyproofing the flat, and everything else... Its two weeks away and were nowhere near ready.
Cecelia put a hand on his arm. Dont panic. Breathe.
Were not taking any chances. And youre not telling anyone.
She gave his arm a squeeze. Still think youre an idiot.
Join the queue.
Dr McDonald emerged from the bathroom, phone still in her hand. Mrs Lynch, can you do a complete swab of all the taps in the house? Especially the underside of the handles and knobs.
And the flush on the toilet too.
Sorry.
Cecelia shook her head. Fine. Then stomped off back to the living room.
Dr McDonald frowned behind her safety goggles. The three men here were targeted for a reason, we dont know what it was, but the flats self-contained, a safe zone for Paddington to work, I mean no ones going to see in when youre on the top floor, are they, of course not, so he can do whatever he wants in here and no ones going to notice as long as hes reasonably quiet about it.
Professor Huntlys voice boomed out in the narrow corridor. Ive been thinking about your two other victims: the mummies. If you dont get anything from the DNA, you can try the fingerprints. Itll be cheaper than going for facial reconstruction.
The question is: did someone gain access to the flat and decide Glen, Brett, and Ben would make good victims, or did he target them somewhere else and follow them back here? She pulled back her hood and wrapped a coil of hair around two fingers on her free hand. Holding the phone out in her other like a Daleks eye stalk.
Callum peered at the face on the screen. And we get their prints how? The mummies fingers are like prunes.
Ah, my dear Constable...?
MacGregor.
I knew it was something like that. Their fingerprints are like prunes because theyve been dehydrated. So how would one get them nice and plump again?
Of course: Soak them in water.
Dear Lord, no, that would be a disaster. We soak them in glycerol. Should make them lovely and soft too.
Dr McDonald twiddled with her hair. Of course, the fact that theres three of them makes it all a bit more difficult, I mean one persons easy enough to subdue, but three at the same time, when theyre all young and fit, that would take a lot more doing, wouldnt it, you could restrain them individually, but then how do you do that without the other two stepping in?
Glycerol.
Im surprised no one thought of it sooner. Its the obvious solution and a lot less expensive than extracting DNA from the tooth pulp cavity and sending it off for analysis.
Well, it was worth a try.
No... Twiddle, twiddle, twiddle. I think they knew their attacker, they invited him into their flat and he brought the magic mushrooms with him, they sit around drinking lager and self-medicating till they pass out and after that Paddington can restrain them easily.
Scuse me. Cecelia squeezed past and into the bathroom, carrying a large square metal case.
OK, so we get the hands steeping in glycerol, what then?
Then you run the prints. And you get a toxicologist to look at the tissue samples. A decent one, not some wet-behind-the-ears undergrad on work placement. I can probably give you some names if you like. On the little screen, Professor Huntly fluttered his eyelashes. Failing that, Im available at very reasonable rates. ID the drugs and the herbs and youve got somewhere to start looking he had to get them from somewhere.
So the question becomes where did Paddington meet them, did they have a favourite pub or club, we need to get someone visiting the local bars and ask if Glen, Ben, and Brett were seen there with someone else, because hes going to have his own favourite haunts, areas where he likes to hunt, and if we can get an ID from the other two victims we might find a common denominator, dont you think? She pulled down her facemask. Do you think we could leave here, because the smell is beginning to make me feel a bit sick.
Wimp.
Goodbye, Bernard. She hung up and put her phone away. My arm was getting sore anyway.
Callum lowered his facemask. You know we can just wait for Brett Millar to come down from his trip and ask him what happened.
We can, but what if he doesnt know what happened because he cant remember, or maybe the drugs hes been on have caused permanent brain damage, can you imagine what being force-fed magic mushrooms for days would be like, what it would do to your sense of perception? Dr McDonald struggled her way out of her gloves. We have to work on the assumption that hes not going to be any help, that way if he does remember anything about the man who attacked them its a bonus.
Yeah, she had a point.
OK. Well, what if they didnt meet the guy in a pub? He could work for the bank, if theyre financing the refurbishment. Or a local estate agent, if theyre looking for a valuation?
Thats certainly worth exploring.
And the list of people needing interviewed just ballooned to about three times its previous size. Mother would love that.
Thats certainly worth exploring.
And the list of people needing interviewed just ballooned to about three times its previous size. Mother would love that.
He took out his notepad. So, come on then, youve seen around the flat: who are we looking for? How do we spot him when we see him, assuming Brett Millar doesnt just wake up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed tomorrow and give us a name and address?