John Steel Collection - Books 1-3

Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Tina Franks was busy checking over what remained of the female from Pier 15. She scanned the remains meticulously inch by inch, taking photographs of any distinguishing marks such as bruises and scars. In the background, music played softly from her MP3 that rested on top of the stereo; its blue lights broke up the sterile whiteness of the morgue.

McCall entered, her footsteps sounding loud and aggressive as they echoed off the tiled surfaces. Her expression could have frozen the very depths of hell.

‘Hi, what else have we got, Tina?’ asked McCall, trying not to think about the events on the pier and the details of their ghoulish discovery.

‘Well, I have got a Caucasian female with many bits missing. I’m far more interested in your white knight in black armour who’s put in a public appearance for the first time. I gather he went off with the Cap.’ Tina gave McCall a sly look that said, more information, please.

‘Oh, really,’ she replied, ‘and what else did you hear?’ ‘I heard he was British and kind of cute.’

McCall’s glare stiffened. She asked herself the same questions she was sure Tina wanted answers to. Why was he here? Was he following her? It was strange that he always showed up just in the nick of time, but she shook off the temptation to get drawn into theorising. The mystery guy would have to wait – the case came first.

‘Are there any similarities with the two other killings?’ McCall was desperate for a clue. The killer was good. But in her experience, the more victims a serial killer claimed, the more comfortable they got, and the more likely they would eventually mess up. As a kid, she read loads of books by Agatha Christie to solve them before the detective. She often did, and she remembered it was always the second or third killing that gave her the clues to work out the plot, never the first.

Tina stopped what she was doing and took off her slightly scratched eye protectors. ‘Well, what we have is a killer who, for some reason, drains all of his victims’ blood and removes not just body parts but whole chunks of body parts.’ She walked between the tables on which lay the remains of the first two victims. ‘What I don’t get is the kind of parts that have been removed. Most of the ‘trophies crew’ take a finger or an ear. This is way too extreme.’

‘Maybe he’s fussy about what he eats.’ McCall grinned, trying to lighten the mood with some gallows humour, but she couldn’t shift the look of worry on the pretty ME’s face.

‘This guy knows how to use a scalpel,’ Tina pointed out. ‘So, we’re possibly looking for some kind of surgeon.’

McCall looked puzzled. ‘What makes you say surgeon rather than just psycho?’ She moved closer to the most recent corpse, unable to resist her curiosity.

Tina pointed at the right lower abdomen. ‘If you look here, he has cut the skin at the hip joint. You can see that the incision made is straight and even, not jagged and ripped. No, this guy took his time. Also, I would say this was done with respect rather than brutality. From what I've seen between this and the others.’ Tina shrugged. ‘In my judgement, the person who did this did it for a reason. It wasn’t so much about the kill itself like we see so many times. No, the parts he took meant something to him because of the way they were removed. And the tests have shown on our last Vic, and the blood wasn’t even hers – it was cattle blood, which he presumably got from a butcher. Maybe it was added because he wanted the body to be found more easily. I have no idea why he is draining them.’ Tina shook her head in disbelief.

* * *

Samantha McCall had returned to the 11th precinct. She was sitting at her desk when Tooms and Tony returned from interviewing the boss at the law firm where the first victim had worked. They strolled in, Tooms taking the spare chair at McCall’s desk and flipping open his notepad as Tony crashed into his own seat, where he picked up his phone and started to dial.

‘Did you hear the captain got a call from the mayor? So it appears the Brit is working with us on this, some hotshot from London or something,’ McCall growled.

‘Well, you wanted to catch the freak, now you got him. Gotta hate that irony s**t,’ Tooms said.

‘Please tell me you got something useful?’ she asked.

‘Well, we scored,’ Tooms replied. ‘We got the place of work and a name, Miss Karen Lane, aged thirty-nine, and a partner in the firm. She had an apartment on the East Side. We are going to check it out once we get a warrant.’

McCall nodded, grateful that, at last, they had a lead of some sort. ‘Do we know who may have seen her last?’ She was hoping to establish a time frame.

‘Yeah, we got a Karl Buntee, he is the janitor there, and he reckons he saw her in the parking garage at around three on Friday morning.’ ‘Why was she working that late at night?’ McCall asked suspiciously.

‘Well, they had a big meeting the following day, with some high-profile case. So she had to get the briefs typed up in time.

‘OK, so we have a time frame for Vic number one,’ McCall said. Getting up and wrote the numbers on another board, this one for time frames. She drew a line from 03:00 hours until the end of the mark that covered Monday when the body was found.

‘So, what have we got?’ McCall said, perched on her desk. ‘Vic One, Karen Lane, went missing early Friday morning and was found early Monday, so on that basis, I guess we can presume he only keeps them for a few days.’

The other two joined her at the time-frame board and stared at the puzzle, hoping something would reveal itself.

‘Vic Two was found in the park the following Thursday, so if he is holding to his timeline, she could have been taken on the Monday. That is in theory, but it's only speculation until we discover who she is. Same with Vic number three.’ McCall looked puzzled. ‘I can’t get that the others were posed, but Vic Three hung off a pier. It doesn’t make sense.’ She thought and then added, ‘None of it makes sense. Yet.’

McCall stood, picked up her coffee mug, and headed for the break room, followed by Tooms and Tony.

The smell of brewing coffee hit them with an awakening jolt, lifting the glass jug. Then McCall poured herself a cup then offered the jug to the others, who placed their mugs on the counter next to hers to fill before placing the half-full jug back into the coffee machine.

‘I don’t get it; there is nothing we know that connects these women yet.’ she began. ‘We need to find out who the other two were, or this isn’t going anywhere.’

The others agreed, and they sipped their hot drinks in silence for a moment before drifting thoughtfully back to their desks.

As they turned the corner, they saw the mysterious stranger whom McCall had last seen at the crime scene, standing in front of the board with his back to them. His hands were clasped behind his back. Even as he studied the board, he was obviously aware he was being watched.

‘Nice board,’ Steel said without moving. His voice was unmistakably British but had no hard accent.

‘Can I help you?’ Sam McCall asked acidly. Her voice almost growled with disapproval at the mere sight, let alone the idea of his staring at her information boards.

‘Simple but effective,’ he continued, but he turned slightly to acknowledge she was there this time.

‘But?’ she prodded him to continue, almost as if she was waiting for some ‘British’ sarcastic remark, which never came.

‘No buts, I like them,’ Steel replied. ‘However, I’m sorry if I have upset your system.’ He moved away from the displays as if he was trying to be conciliatory.

‘Thanks,’ she muttered, her tone somewhat hollow, unsure how she should react to him.

She grabbed her cup and headed for the break room to get a coffee, forgetting she already had one, but it didn’t matter, she just needed to get away from him.

Steel trailed after her like a lost child on his first day at school.

‘Are you following me?’ she growled, eyes blazing.

‘Coffee,’ he replied, holding up the coffee-filled jug.

‘What?’ Her expression went from anger to bewilderment in a second.

‘I asked. Do you want a coffee?’ Steel said.

‘Uhm…no, thanks.’ McCall replied and left abruptly, leaving him in the break room to make himself a drink.

The Tooms and Tony watched, somewhat bemused by this display, just sat back and observed this strange dance with no small pleasure and amusement.

McCall sat at her desk and began typing data into the computer but had failed to notice the John Steel standing beside the empty chair next to her desk.

Steel coughed politely to attract her attention, causing her to glance out of the corner of her eye to see him hovering.

‘What now?’ Her tone was one of weariness and irritation.

‘May I?’ He indicated the battered-looking chair, with its brown coloured fabric that lay loose on the cushioning. Yet, despite the battered appearance, it looked comfortable, somehow homely.

Samantha McCall raised a hand to say ‘whatever,’ but continued to gaze at her monitor.

John Steel sat and took a sip of the brown liquid, his face crumpled in disgust as his taste buds were assaulted by the foulest coffee he’d tasted in years.

‘What’s the matter, coffee too much for you?’ she said with a grin, taking a swig from her own cup, trying to ignore the awful taste in her own mouth. ‘I thought a big, strong boy like you could handle strong coffee,’ she smiled again.

Even though she was laughing at him, he couldn’t resist enjoying this tiny c***k in her armour.

‘This is coffee? Wow, that really is horrible,’ Steel said with a shudder.

McCall gave a cheerful grin at his displeasure.

‘You know, you have a nice smile; you should use it more often; it suits you.’

She stopped and looked away, embarrassed she had let her guard down.

Steel turned his attention to the whiteboard but could not make any sense or connection. They had no idea who the other victims were, so any link at this point was almost impossible. He scanned the photos and the timeline associated with the first victim, but nothing had come to him after the best part of an hour.

After a long while, Steel gave up, removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes. He was tired and hadn’t eaten or drunk much in the past hours. He looked down at the empty coffee mug. He looked over at the break room, wondering if he actually wanted to risk another coffee, but he needed the caffeine.

Steel headed over to the room via McCall’s decks, figuring it was only polite to ask.

‘Would you like more coffee, detective?’ he asked, returning to McCall’s desk.

‘No, but thanks,’ she replied. ‘Hey, one thing, when you use a cup, you need to check the ones with marks on them. They belong to people.’ She noted he had used a cup belonging to one of the detectives on another shift. ‘Got it, look out for marks,’ he said, going into the break room.

Suddenly, Steel froze on the spot and looked over at the boards.

‘Could it be that simple?’ He spoke softly as if nobody else was present. Then, rushing over to the first board, he examined the pictures and did the same for the others.

McCall and the others looked at Steel as if he had just gone mad.

Steel’s hand moved from picture to picture as if searching for something. Then he stopped and rushed towards the elevator.

‘What’s the matter, coffee get to you?’ she called after him.

‘No, the marks did,’ he said as the elevator door opened.

McCall stared across at Tony and Tooms, who were just as confused as she was.

Tony made a crazy person gesture with his index finger, and seconds later, they all jumped up and followed him, in case they’d missed something that he had picked up on.

In the morgue, Tina was in the back room checking some files. It had been a long day, and she yearned for the weekend to begin because she and some of her girlfriends were planning to go to a new club they were all excited to try.

Tina started to dance to a little tune that she had found on her MP3 player. The mood took her over, so she continued to boogie straight into the operating room, where she saw a tall man dressed in black leaning over one of the bodies. The dancing urge immediately left her, and she resumed her professional demeanour.

‘Hey, excuse me, can I help you?’ Tina’s voice was calm and steady despite the sudden shock of seeing this unexpected stranger.

‘I’m sorry, Doctor, I’m John Steel; I’m working with Detective McCall,’ Steel replied.

Tina looked Steel up and down and cracked a smile. ‘Mmm, working on what?’ Tina replied.

The side of Steel’s mouth raised slightly, understanding her pun.

‘Purley police business.’

‘OK, Mr police business, what can I do you for?’ Tina asked.

‘I noticed something when I was going over the crime scene photos. It may be nothing, you see—’ Suddenly, Steel was cut off in mid-sentence.

‘It’s OK, Tina, he’s kinda with me,’ McCall explained as she the room with Tooms and Tony not far behind.

Tina nodded towards Steel, who was still paused over the woman's body, and grinned at her friend.

‘So, this was Sam’s knight in black armour,’ Tina said.

McCall rolled her eyes at Tina in disapproval, but Tina made a ‘no problem’ signal with her fingers.

‘OK, British guy, what’s up?’ McCall felt she had to sound like she wasn’t impressed, but she hoped he’d found something deep down. ‘You said something about marks; what marks?’ she asked.

‘There were no marks on any of the bodies, apart from those he made himself,’ the ME growled, furious at the accusation she had missed something.

‘I mean that all the areas of the body he left behind had some sort of mark or fault,’ John Steel began. ‘Vic One had a tattoo on her back – that’s why he only took the front part of her body. Vic Two had scars on one leg and one arm, also she had piercings and, well, Vic Three was pretty clean so….’

‘…. That is why the most were taken from her,’ Tina finished the sentence, catching on to his theory.

‘What, you mean our guy is seeking women for body parts? To do what?’ McCall’s patience was thin, and this guy was stretching it to the limit.

‘Look, you said you could help,’ McCall continued. ‘But frankly, if all your ideas are as half-assed as this, we are better off without you. I’m sorry.’ And with that, she stormed out, not because the idea was wrong. It was more maddening than that.

What really annoyed her was the possibility that he could be correct, and she had failed to see what he had.

John Steel walked up to Tina and took her right hand. ‘I’m very sorry for the intrusion, Madam,’ and, so saying, he gently raised her knuckles close to his lips. Next, he delicately kissed the air just above her hand so that she barely felt the touch of his warm breath. And then he left.

Tina grabbed for the side of the table as her knees wobbled. All she could say to herself was, ‘Wow!’

Back at the 11th precinct, as John Steel got off the elevator, he was struck by the chaos of the department at work. Phones were ringing, computers flashed with information, and detectives were running here and there with documents grasped tightly in their hands.

He looked around to find Sam McCall attacking a vending machine.

Tooms and Tony went through the paperwork and argued about what should go in a filing system.

Brant was at McCall’s desk yelling down the phone at some poor son-of-a-b***h about press at the crime scene.

Steel nodded to himself reassuringly, approving his decision, a smile crept over Steel’s face as he nodded to himself. If he wanted Sam McCall to work with him, she would need some guarantee that he was a pair of safe hands. He just hoped the information he could provide would be assurance enough.

John Steel walked determinedly up to Brant and whispered into his ear, and the other man snapped to attention. He murmured something in return and beckoned the others to follow him into a small briefing room. The tall Englishman was already waiting there, and as they came in, he beckoned to them to sit down.

Shutting the door, Steel moved to the centre of a wall with a large city map.

‘My name is John Steel,’ he began. ‘And for the present, I have been assigned to your department to assist with these homicides. I’ve been sent by London because it appears one of our investigations might be similar to yours. Other than that, I’m here to help. Thank you for your time.’

He waited for some comeback, perhaps even a snide comment or remark, but nothing happened.

Everyone just nodded in acknowledgement, stood up and left.

John Steel smiled and shook his head. He half expected an uproar, but instead, it was as though nobody cared.

Steel walked over to McCall’s desk with a sheepish look that turned into a smile.

‘Look, I’m sorry. We got off on the wrong foot, but⁠—’

She cut him off in mid-sentence by raising a hand. She shuffled through some paperwork, searching for something, then stood and walked towards the information boards.

‘He isn’t done yet, is he?’ She looked at him with saddened eyes.

Steel shook his head, ‘No, he’s not finished. But we will catch this guy,’ he said, turning back to the board. ‘We have to.’

This left her with an even more puzzled look on her face.

Who was John Steel, and what was his connection with the killer?