Cold as Ice (Willis/Carter #2)(6)
‘Jesus Christ – little fucker. Let me know what you need after you talk to Robbo. Let’s get it all set up. When’s the post mortem?’
‘Harding said she’d get started in about an hour. I’m heading over there shortly.’
‘Okay, keep me in the loop.’
Carter left Bowie’s office and walked down the corridor to the largest office in the department – the Enquiry Team Office. Willis was sitting at one of the six long desks. Jeanie Vincent the Family Liaison Officer sat diagonally opposite her. When the office was full there were twenty detective constables and five detective sergeants in it.
Ebony was scanning through Missing Persons records.
Carter stopped at her station and looked over her shoulder at the screen. ‘Anything in Mispers?’ His eyes drifted up to nod a hello to Jeanie. Jeanie smiled back.
‘Not yet, Guv.’
‘Okay, you ready? We don’t want to be late for Doctor Harding.’
‘Ready.’ Ebony stood and picked up her jacket. ‘Are we walking over, Guv?’
Carter didn’t answer so Jeanie did. ‘Don’t be silly. Of course not.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You know he hates what the damp air does to his hair, Ebb.’
Ebony smiled.
‘And don’t forget you’re coming to Sunday lunch soon. Peter’s cooking it so you’re safe. It’ll be edible this time.’
‘Nice to know some things never change,’ said Carter as he waited for Ebony to shut down her PC.
Jeanie nodded. ‘Yep. It’s never a good thing to admit you can cook to a man – slippery slope. How are your parents, Dan?’
Carter nodded. He looked ready to say something and then changed his mind.
‘Give them my love.’ Jeanie’s eyes lingered on him.
‘Will do.’
They caught the lift down to the car park. Ebony looked across at Carter. She was used to the awkwardness between Jeanie and Carter. They had been a couple long before Ebony began working at the Murder Squad. They still found it difficult to work together. But Ebony had seen the way Carter hesitated at the question about his parents. She knew something wasn’t right. She’d met his parents many times when she and Carter had called in after work and been fed or given a coffee. She was very fond of them. She hadn’t been around to their home in Finchley for a couple of months.
He turned to see her watching him.
‘My dad’s really ill. He’s got throat cancer.’ Carter smiled sadly and shook his head. ‘Cigars have done it. That and a few brandies every night.’
‘Is he having treatment?’
‘Yes. He’s having an operation to remove what they can. It’s a terrible thing to feel so helpless. I can’t do anything to help him. He can’t eat. He sits in his chair in the lounge and he pretends to be fine about it but I can see the panic in his eyes. He’s scared.’ Carter started up the engine. ‘Still, where there’s life – there’s hope, huh? He’s a fighter.’
‘He’ll be all right, Guv.’
‘Yeah – let’s hope so, Ebb. And at least he didn’t end up at the bottom of a freezing canal.’
The fog had cleared and the man walked away from the canal bridge and back through the new building works in King’s Cross. He stopped to look through a peep hole at the massive construction site that encompassed the whole of King’s Cross Station and the surrounding area. The day stretched pale blue and a giant crane swung in the air. The ache and groan of steel being driven into the earth made him feel exhilarated. He felt the blood pump around his body as he stood watching the huge machinery languidly move its metal limbs and lower and lift.
A group of Chinese students passed, all chattering together. They didn’t notice him. A woman passed walking too fast for her skirt. She was in a hurry – going somewhere. She glanced his way; he stared back. He saw beneath the make-up, he peeled her open like an onion, folding back the layers of skin, fat, muscle and severing tendon and ligament, snapping bone.
She came level with him and he smelt her perfume. It made him want to grab her by the neck and pin her to the wall, squeeze her neck, lift her feet from the ground as he cut off the oxygen to her brain. He would watch her eyes widen, panic, stare at him, drift and lose focus and roll back in her head and he would part her thighs and enter her at that moment and the last thing she would feel was him inside her, the pleasure and the pain in death and ecstasy.
The woman stared back at him as if she knew what he wanted to do and was inviting him to try. Just fucking try. He smiled at her. She tossed her chin in the air and walked on by.
Didn’t she realize who he was? Didn’t she realize she was in the presence of greatness? He had complete control over other human beings – over her, if he wanted it. He had power at his fingertips that she would never know because she wasn’t worthy. He picked the women he chose to play his game very carefully. He handpicked them and he decided their fate from that moment on. He decided how they lived and how they died.
He turned back to watch the magnificent machines he loved. The massive cranes stretched up to the sky and prepared to do battle with one another, lowering and lifting their mighty heads. His head hurt with the pleasure of it all.
‘Got a light, mate?’ An art student from nearby Saint Martins interrupted his thoughts. The student had a hand-rolled cigarette in between his fingers. His hands were dotted with paint.