*
Renton was a little more upbeat after the ordeal of brain scans and a multitude of stitches in his scalp. A small circular patch of hair had been removed prior to the procedure and Adams noticed it immediately.
“Have you found anything at the house Ben? I’m still having difficulty bringing back the sequence of events.”
“Nothing significant yet Boss, keep your hair on.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’ll probably take a while to grow back.”
“It’s just as well you were going bald anyway.”
“No more bullshit. Have you heard anything more from Jane, I mean apart from what you said yesterday?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m here. Daniel is going to be ok, although it’s likely to take a long time for a full recovery, maybe a few months. He is being advised that a transfer to Newcastle R.V.I. will take place as soon as he is out of the intensive care unit. That’s due to happen tomorrow.”
“Thank God for that. I need to change my life priorities Ben, as soon as we put this bastard Frank to bed.”
“Listen Boss, you’re the one who’s been put to bed for now. Take the time you have to be in here to do your lifestyle thinking, and leave the damned Frank crap to me. We’ve got extra help from Lord Nigel, who sends his regards. I’m going to keep you up to speed with your house break-in, but unless there’s any definite connection to the other stuff, it’s going to be all personal chat, or I won’t come – got it?”
“Yes Detective Inspector Adams Sir. Now get me some decent coffee, and one for yourself.”
The doctor was doing his rounds, so Adams took the opportunity to ask about Renton’s concussion. He was assured that he’d be back to normal in a few days. “Whatever normal is for him, I think we’ll all be happy to see him go home.”
Chapter 19
Frank had been virtually silent since the two half-bodies were dumped at Chollerford. His frustration had however been on the rise since he found he could no longer get access to the police Intranet. He began to compensate by renewed activity online. The first post on Frankenstein.com was accompanied by a graphic picture of the exact moment that Donoghue had removed the muslin from the two packages. The post read – ‘A day in the life of one person is mirrored by the discovery of death and mutilation of another. Such is our pathetic acceptance of the incompetence of the ruling elite. The competence of the police is only fractionally superior, as can be seen by the non-arrival of the transport for the remains. They were told where to look. Short of offering to drive them to the site, what more could have been done?’ There was a promise to display the matching halves of the bodies on the site, or another one, if this one was shut down. Gathered around Stephanie’s desk, the entire team was not so much shocked as resigned to more killings being reported.
*
There was some good news in the pipeline. Donoghue had almost finished the DNA work on the samples from Stephanie’s visit to Southampton. If the hair was definitely from Martha Blake, then she was Alex’s mother, as shown by mitochondrial DNA. The more intriguing prospect was that the preliminary markers of the same hair were indicating positive correlation with the head of the Priory corpse. This precipitated Adams to grab a felt pen and begin scribbling on the whiteboard. When he had finished he assembled the others to comment on the content.
From left to right:-
Armless corpse - Rory Davenport - Protester, 22.
Legless corpse - not known, 18.
Headless Corpse - Martha Blake? 43.
Corpse without torso – not known, 20.
Corpse without genitals – Brett Driscoll? 33.
Sam Gibson asked about the DNA samples of the parents of Reginald Powell.
“I left these with Donoghue so long ago I’d forgotten about them myself.” A quick call resulted in Donoghue claiming the report had been issued. When Adams said that they hadn’t seen it, Donoghue stated that he had the copy in front of him and it clearly showed that the person’s DNA did not give a perfect match to that of the legs of the Priory corpse. Adams corrected him, by stating that it was DNA from both parents they were inquiring about. This produced no response at first, and then Donoghue cursed uncharacteristically. He went on to apologise, saying that there had been an error, and they would perform a re-test. He admitted that they had been under severe pressure in the last few days, but didn’t dodge the responsibility. He did recall Sam asking about checking for a filial link, and promised to give the new test high priority.
“Ok, for the purposes of this discussion I’m going to claim that we have two definitely identified and one possible hit. I’m interested in finding a connection between them which could help in finding the other two. Come on, indulge me here.”
The brainstorming brought up drugs, anti-social behaviour, organised crime, residence location, and many others. In trying to overlay any motive Frank’s crusade might contribute, they returned to Sam Gibson’s prior feeling that Frank himself was protesting about amoral attitudes and reflecting this in his choice of victims.
“I mentioned to Renton that the first two were perhaps treated differently because they ‘represented’ people who should not have died, whereas the others were treated with disdain. Now Greg Watson has said the latest two in Chollerford have also been accorded concern. If this is correct, it will be interesting to see his promised display of the other halves of the bodies, and any information attached, like the birth dates.” There was agreement to resume this angle, as and when Frank kept this promise. Stephanie also remarked that nobody had come up with a reasonable explanation as to why Alex Blake’s birth date and age was a match for Frank’s numbers, but he obviously wasn’t the victim.
“As the Boss said, this is too much of a coincidence, and I said I would let Alex know the result of the forensics test. I got the feeling that although he said he didn’t want to talk about the misery of the time of his mother’s disappearance, this might change his mind. It’s almost certain she’s the headless corpse, and that closure could get him to open up. It’s worth a try.” Sam endorsed this and Adams told her to go.
*
The activity in forensics began to stretch the available personnel. The latest half-bodies in particular were consuming much of the expertise. However, results so far had been disappointing. The condition of the corpses suffered as much from the near-arctic weather at Chollerford as they had by probably spending months in deep freeze. There was one exception to this trend. The electron microscope magnification of the bone severance points confirmed the tool which had been employed was typically used by surgeons conducting amputation procedures on the living. Donoghue claimed this was further support of his earlier declaration, and he was now confident that Frank had, at some time in his life, been a highly qualified surgeon. This opinion was only offered after Greg Watson had endorsed it. It provoked Adams to include it in the list of possible connections to the victims.
*
Frank had uploaded his video of the opposing halves of the two bodies to Frankenstein.com just as he had promised. He had also anticipated that the site wouldn’t stay live for long, so he had listed many links to other sites whose owners had agreed to post the video. Just like the first two videos, this one proliferated faster than officialdom could close it down, and there was a consequent surge in global interest once more. The environment where it was shot looked the same, but the bodies were in a sitting position, and meticulously stitched together to emulate a single person. The message simply said, ‘Is the glass half-full or half-empty? The answer is almost certainly related to your inherited destiny, social as well as genetic’. There were no number clues like those in the very first film, but Steven Jones brought Adams’ attention to a tiny coloured mark on the breast of each corpse. It was in the same place on both. They checked with Greg Watson and Donoghue if the halves they had were similarly marked. The answer was negative, and they didn’t think that all traces would have been removed by the bad weather at the fort.
Adams
didn’t want to bother Renton with this news, but he had a dilemma. The overstretched forensics department had also been wrestling with stuff at Renton’s house. They had asked Ben Adams if the Boss had an expensive camera. He was pretty sure that he didn’t, but asked why they wanted to know. Donoghue said they had found an empty flash cartridge box in the undergrowth, which was reported as being in the rear garden.
“It may have got there by accident, high winds possibly, or even the burglar. This is old technology - the kind of stuff that people like me would buy. Photography, like many other activities has been made so idiot-proof that it becomes a case of the camera telling the photographer what to do. This is the opposite. It has really spiked my interest. If Jack doesn’t have a camera of this type, it could mean that someone was taking pictures of his home, and maybe over a period of time.”
Adams was going to see Renton anyway and he knew how much the invasion of his home had ruffled him. He decided to mention the cartridge box. However, when he got to the ward, there was an empty bed where the Boss should have been. He was told that he was visiting his son. Daniel had been admitted and the doctor had agreed to Renton making the short walk. When he’d tracked them down, he asked Daniel how he was feeling and got a weak smile in return.
“I’m going to be ok, so they say, but I am bored. I’ve got at least another three weeks in here before I can even try to walk. They are more worried about my lung healing properly.” He noticed that Daniel never looked at his father while they were talking. When they left, Renton said the doctor had only allowed him half an hour per visit, and Adams walked back with him to his ward. He eventually got to the camera.
“Ben, you’ve just broken a dream. I’ve been going over and over that scene. There was something I couldn’t quite recall before I got smacked on the head. I remember the flash, but I thought it was a bright torch in my eyes, then wham! It wasn’t a torch then, it was a flash from a camera. I was looking at the window when it happened. Now I can clearly see the reflection of the flash behind me, not in front. There was someone in the garden, so there was more than one person there. I can see the outline of the figure in the garden but no detail as yet. Then I was hit, presumably by the camera man.”
“Take it easy Boss, I’m only telling you this because I know it’s become personal. This changes things a bit. If what you’ve just told me is accurate, then we have to assume this wasn’t a simple interrupted burglary, in which case it’s off-limits to you.”
“Yes, I know that Ben. I’ve got more important things to pursue. Daniel doesn’t seem to want to make conversation with me, yet he was chatty with you. I need to put some mileage into my relationship with him while we’re both confined in here.”
*
The Crown Prosecutor was ready to charge Man, whose real name had been determined as Thomas Masters, with manslaughter. He had been obstructive in giving information leading to the discovery of his true identity. He had continually maintained that he had forgotten much of his earlier life. It took many hours of hypnotherapy to winkle out the starting point of his junior schooldays – a happy period of his young life. He was able to quote incredible detail of names, dates and events of the times he spent there. Piecing parts of the ramblings together, they developed sufficient data to check out the records of this school in Sheffield. Although it had been closed for a few years due to the appearance of a new centralised mega-campus, the records had thankfully been archived to computer storage. The recovery of the information included the names of teachers, and this proved crucial. The maths teacher was still alive, and when contacted had retained class photos, from which he pointed out Thomas Masters. This was then backed up with hospital birth records. The hypnotherapy ended with release of other locked memories. He was reaching into areas which had been buried by Frank’s treatment. He was visibly upset by continual reference to his adolescent years, when most of the pain was related to the physical and emotional violence his father had administered to his mother. This charge against a named disciple was not good news for Frank.
When he added this to his shut-out from the Intranet he decided to act quickly. The first step was to take Friend back into his home. This was followed by his posting of the photograph which had captured the moment before Renton was struck from behind in his own kitchen. The picture clearly showed the man in the garden, the reflection of Renton and the photographer, in the window, as well as the true shot of the back of Renton’s head. The man in the garden looked a little bit like Friend but was nothing like as tall. The photographer’s reflected face was cropped out of the picture. The rest of his outline was difficult to see in the darkness but there was one source of reflected light from his hand. The ring was an unusual design and it appeared to have been added to the picture, rather than being worn at the time. Frank would not make such an obvious error.
This had just made Frankenstein.com before it shut down, and the links sent it to many other sites automatically. The magnification tool enabled the viewer to see the design of the ring, and it immediately re-ignited the debate over the meaning of the alpha-omega symbol, and how it fitted with this new one. The message asked how bumbling detectives were expected to solve the Frankenstein case, when they couldn’t prevent or even identify the burglars of their own homes. It promised a further revelation of sloppy work from the Newcastle police, and suggested the investigation would benefit from a national manhunt.
Chapter 20
“Hello again,” said Stephanie, “I promised to come back to see you, but I’m afraid I don’t have good news. I waited until we had conclusive proof one way or another. I’m saddened to be the bearer of the news that your mother is no longer alive.” The young man’s head dropped and his voice trembled.
“It’s to do with that Frankenstein case, isn’t it?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about any details of that case, so all I can say is that her death is part of our investigation.”
“After you left I began to wonder why you came all the way from Newcastle to see me, when all of the other visits I’ve had were from the London police. I couldn’t think of any other reason than this case, which is all over the internet, so I checked my laptop. I was expecting the worst.”
“Can I ask you a few more questions?”
“Yes, of course.” His voice was now decidedly unsteady and Stephanie noticed his difficulty in holding back his true emotions.
“You said last time that you had been serving abroad with the Territorials, where was that?”
“In Yemen; the same place as my Dad.”
“Was this after he died?”
“Yes, and it was the cause of the final rift with my mother.”
“In what way did it affect her?”
“Well, my Dad somehow kept the lid on her drug problem, and buffered me from the occasional fallout from it. When he died she got worse, and all my pittance of a salary went on getting her out of the shit time and time again. I couldn’t reason with her at all. When I decided to see how my Dad had served his country, by registering my interest in Yemen, she just lost it completely and said I had deserted her. My Uncle Clyde tried to help by letting me stay with him, and said he would straighten her out again. Even he couldn’t do that, as she got worse and started to deal as well as use. I left shortly after he tried to wash his hands of her debt. I hadn’t been in Yemen more than a month when a group of us were hit by the debris from an exploding RPG. Six were killed instantly, and the rest suffered injuries of varying severity. I had really bad burns and shrapnel had made a terrible mess of my legs. Even though they had to be amputated above the knee, I was considered to be one of the lucky ones. Three of the wounded died within a week, and the remaining one was blinded and horribly disfigured. Now I’m not so sure I was the lucky one. Anyway, when I came home my mother couldn’t handle my predicament and was in even deeper trouble than she was before, with narcotics. She said she couldn’t stand the sight of me, and it was my own fault for not listening to her in the first pl
ace. She refused to look after me and Clyde took me in again for a short time. He later explained that he’d arranged for me to come here and had taken care of the financial side, because in his words the Government sponsored rehabilitation services were not even fit for battery hens. She went missing not long afterwards and despite my uncle's best efforts we never saw her again. Will you be telling him about this? I owe him a lot and I can ask him to come and see me rather than explain it over the phone. He comes every couple of months.” Stephanie braced herself.
“Oh Alex, you mean the London police haven’t told you? I’m terribly sorry, but your uncle died just recently.”
“No, that can’t be right, because the Broad Meadows staff would have told me.”
“His death is being treated as suspicious.”
Alex Blake could supress the welling flood no longer, and Stephanie hugged him as their tears flowed together.
*
Sam Gibson’s tip from Forster about Brett Driscoll’s cuckoo existence in the Midwest Colony took him back to the ‘false’ address they had found in London. James Bradley asked why he wanted to revisit this.
“Not me James, it’s you I want to check further into it. We assumed this was false because we expected his abode to be in the Manchester area, but that was before we knew that he may have still been controlled from the Capital. The fact that the registered occupier of the London address was not him, wouldn’t have seemed so strange if we’d known he was still on their payroll in some form. Chase up the name we were given, but not through the London police, as we don’t want this to go past or through D.C.I. Gilbert.”