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  The words: Simone is missing fluttered through Jung’s mind and he wanted to ask for details but the urgency in West’s voice dictated the direction of the conversation. ‘Stevens ran a porno business called Loadstar Productions, we found a stack of skin flicks at his house, and they’re all homemade movies of Stevens screwing numerous girls. Caroline Sheppard features heavily and all of the girls have homeless junkie written all over them. We got the contact details for one of the girls and I’ve just finished speaking to her.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Stevens preyed on the girls that went to The Shelter.’

  ‘It must have been the perfect place to pick up vulnerable and desperate girls,’ said West.

  ‘He paid them for their services and kept the contact details for those that were willing to come back for more.’

  ‘Stevens said he met Caroline at The Shelter, so she was probably one of his pick-ups and somewhere along the way he fell for her.’

  ‘What about the Redman girl? said Jung. ‘She worked there, and she wasn’t homeless or a junkie.’

  ‘No, but he liked her. Stevens tried it on with her but she blew him out.’

  ‘There’s more. Someone else is involved, there’s a cameraman who Stevens referred to as Sickman during the scene I watched. From what I saw, the guy is always behind the camera, I asked the girl about it and she said he was only ever referred to as Sickman, he rarely spoke, he only filmed the show, and he never tried to touch her. She’s willing to see a sketch artist but she’s pretty fucked up – definitely back on the drugs, so I can’t exactly vouch for the reliability of the results.’

  ‘We don’t have time for that anyway,’ said West. ‘We need to know who he is. I’m guessing he was more than just a bloke with digital camera. For my money I’d put him as an accomplice or business partner. Would Sickman know where Stevens picked up the women? I definitely think so; maybe he had a hand in it. I’d say he most likely worked at The Shelter too. Get a list of everyone who works there.’

  ‘I’m already on it,’ said Jung.

  ‘Stevens is awake, but we’re not allowed to see him yet. I’m going to the hospital and I intend to be there when the doctors give us the go-ahead to speak to him. I’ll see you back at the station. Good work Jung.’

  26

  Golden in the confines of the room, the sweat on his naked body glistened in the candlelight as he slid the blade back and forth over the grinding wheel again and again.

  The Ghost looked down at his naked torso while his muscles worked the blade and an unusual feeling of immense pride washed over him at the sight of his physical condition, he was magnificent and he wished he had a mirror.

  He paused to apply more oil to the blade and to run slippery fingers over the tight skin of his abdomen and the solid muscle underneath. He then began to slide the edge of the knife over the gritty surface of the stone again. He found the sound of metal grinding against stone hypnotic and it carried him away on a river of anticipation and excitement.

  Every few minutes he stopped grinding and listened. The piggy would wake up any time now and when she did she’d be lost and scared and desperate to find freedom from the tunnels.

  He liked a challenge and enjoyed it more when they put up a fight, and this little piggy had something about her that excited him more than any of the others had, this one didn’t just whimper and beg for her life, she hid her fear well and definitely looked like she had some fight in her.

  He could tell she was a believer, this one would try harder than any other to find escape, she believed she had a chance of survival. It would be so exciting if she refused to accept the notion of the inevitable end.

  But it was futile - he would be after her soon and it would be the best hunt yet.

  He took a rag and wiped the oil from his hands and from the curved blade. He checked the edge with his thumb and was more than satisfied with the results. He ran the rag over his torso and turned to his robe and mask. He couldn’t wait for her to see him spring from the shadows, she was bleeding and afraid and lost in the dark and he knew his appearance would send her over the edge with fear.

  He loved it when they lost all hope.

  27

  The police officer standing beside the doors to the hospital ward watched the detective pace the corridor like a caged tiger. He was on edge all right; he looked like he wanted to beat the living shit out of someone. He twisted a lighter in the fingers of his right hand, smoothing the metal case repeatedly with his thumb and occasionally flicking the lid open and closed.

  West stopped and eyeballed the officer. ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m sure the doctors will be done soon.’

  ‘Better be.’

  No sooner had they had their exchange the doors of the ward opened and two doctors emerged. West immediately invaded their space. ‘Well? Is his majesty taking visitors or what?’ he snapped.

  ‘You can go in now.’

  West pushed between them and into the ward.

  Once inside West could immediately see Stevens was a state but it was no less than he expected considering what had happened to him. He was sitting up in bed with his throat and eyes heavily bandaged. West knew he wouldn’t be able to talk and was relieved to see his hands were free to write.

  ‘You’re lucky to be alive Mr Stevens,’ he said when he had approached the bed.

  Stevens followed the direction of West’s voice.

  ‘Do you recognise my voice? I’m Detective West. We had an interesting conversation at the police station a few days ago.’

  As he spoke he put a pen into Stevens’ right hand and a notepad into his left.

  ‘In light of what’s happened to you, I am expecting you to tell me everything you know.’

  Stevens put the pad and pen together and began to write.

  Help Caroline.

  West had anticipated Stevens wouldn’t have had chance to find out about his fiancés murder.

  ‘It’s too late for her Gary. He took her from you.’

  Stevens’ arms went limp and the pen slid off the page leaving behind a slanted blue trail.

  ‘Two others are missing and I need to know who’s doing this,’ said West. ‘Do you know who took them? Do you know who killed Caroline? Hell Gary, do you know who did this to you?’ West took Stevens’ hand and reunited pen with paper, but the pen sat motionless.

  ‘We know about your porno business and where you found the girls Gary. Are we looking for the one you refer to as Sickman?’

  West didn’t think Stevens would be capable of speech after what had happened to him and was surprised beyond belief when Stephens’ voice came out in a thin whistle that reminded West of his father in his final hours. ‘He’s a maniac,’ he whispered.

  ‘You’re scared of him,’ said West. ‘I understand that but I need you to tell me who he is.’

  The dressings that covered Stevens’ eyes began to darken as though he was crying tears of blood behind them and he tried to speak again, but this time his words were broken and incomprehensible.

  Stevens picked up the pen and started to search for the pad. West took it and pressed it into his left hand and watched as Stevens wrote a name.

  Victor James.

  28

  She awoke. Alone she lay still in the half-light of the underground tomb while her senses came back to her. She hurt all over and could still taste the foul vaporous stench in the back of her throat.

  From her position on the floor she could see a candle burned in front of her; glued upright with wax, its flame flickered and danced on the scarred limestone wall and ceiling. Gnarled ancient tree roots hung from above and Simone watched their shadows play games in the candlelight. She was still underground; beneath Bishop’s Thorpe Wood in some kind of chamber, and from her resting point she could make out the ominous darkness of the exit and realised that it linked to a narrower passageway, she thought it must be part of an old network of tunnels that was maybe some kind of chalk mine, or an age-
old hiding place for contraband. She assumed one of the entrance points to this secret network of tunnels was in the church grounds and that was how he got her down there so discreetly.

  Simone was naked and cold and she knew where she was and why she hurt so much when she moved.

  ‘Did you see what I did to the other one?’ he had said before he smothered her. The shocking recollection of his words caused crime scene photos to flash in her mind: bringing forth images of Victoria Redman’s twisted corpse, her face missing, and skin drowned in blood. Simone knew the word ‘SOW’ had been carved deeply into the flesh of her back when the slightest movement caused the cuts to pop and split open and the blood to run warmly over her skin. She vomited onto the dusty floor, her stomach muscles contracted sharply and white hot agony spread from her back and covered her in a blanket of pain.

  The nausea cleared as quickly as it came and her mind cleared enough for her to take a strangely calm and balanced view of her predicament. Simone tentatively reached between her legs to see if she had been raped. She wasn’t tender or wet and she was sure she hadn’t been touched.

  Simone picked the candle from the floor and wax splashed onto her hand. She was determined to keep her emotions in check, she wanted to use logic and reasoning to find a way out but as the hot wax ran over her skin everything became so suddenly apparent she wanted to cry. She wished she didn’t know what was going to happen to her; she wished she didn’t know how she was going to look when Nathan found her body in the woods, laid out under a tree. But she did know; she knew everything. Simone had spent hours imagining what the other poor girls had gone through and now she was here and the fear of her impending murder made her want to go to sleep and never wake up.

  She couldn’t stop shivering and her teeth began to chatter as panic took hold. She waited for it to pass and when it did she felt reinvigorated with the determination to survive. She was going to get out alive and if she didn’t make it she wasn’t going down without a fight and so through gritted teeth she forced herself to walk out of the chamber and into the tunnels. ‘Come on!’ she said to herself repeating over and over in a mantra and soon the fear that consumed her began to turn into anger. ‘Fuck you!’ she screamed into the darkness. ‘I’m getting out of here!’

  It was incredible how vulnerable being naked made her feel, she held the candle above her head and debris cut into the soles of her feet as her naked body, small but determined moved onwards into the tunnel.

  She wanted to see Nathan again. She thought about when they were together for the first time; the heat of the fire and the exertion of their lovemaking. Simone wanted that again. Nathan’s image appeared in front of her like a mirage and a feeling of warmth embraced her and drove her on. She had a mission - and it was simple: survival.

  The tunnels were silent save for the crunch underfoot and her desperate breathing. Simone’s flesh glowed alabaster white in the tiny beacon of candlelight and shadows slipped smoothly past as she pressed onwards into the darkness of the labyrinth.

  The Origin of the Tooth:

  Part 5

  Watching - 2011

  The Ghost had one eye on the television and one eye on the couple at the bar. The pub was busy; football fans and families drank and ate their way through Sunday lunch while watching Manchester United play Liverpool on the big screen, blissfully unaware that they had a killer in their midst.

  He sipped his drink and looked at the people around him. No one caught him looking; they were too fixated on the screen or their big plates of food. He watched them shovel meat into their greedy mouths while feral children with gravy soaked clothes ran amok and rolled around on the filthy carpet. He felt displeasure at the sight of them but he couldn’t turn away, it was like watching a lesser species drowning in its own filth and it gave him a clearer understanding as to why people generally repelled him.

  Something caught his eye. A man sat on a stool at the end of the bar and his girlfriend – no wedding rings he noted – stood between his legs with her back to him and pressed her behind into his crotch. She was slim; vaguely attractive, she wore a small T-shirt and black leggings under a tight short skirt. The man gripped her hip and whispered into her ear – it was a tiny gesture, but it was enough to catch the Ghost’s attention; a split second distraction before or after and he would have missed it. Their eyes were focused on the football but, he saw that while one of her hands was free to lift her drink from the counter, the other was out of sight; hidden between her ass and his crotch. He could see her shoulder move up and down as she caressed him. Her movements were subtle but the Ghost was watching.

  He watched them over the course of an hour. People spoke to them and they gave all the necessary attention but her hand remained in place. The man occasionally whispered in her ear and they kissed lightly. They ordered more drinks and she skilfully ground herself into him with the slightest but most deliberate of movements. His face grew red and at one point he told her to stop and she laughed and flashed him teasing glance.

  Liverpool scored and while all attention shifted to the TV screen she lifted her ass higher and for a split second he saw the man’s hand appear between her legs as he took the opportunity to touch her. It was at that point that the man and the Ghost made eye contact over her shoulder. The man knew he was watching and the Ghost glanced away and watched the TV for a time and when he looked back they were both looking at him. The man was nuzzling her neck and kissing her ear and all the while she looked directly at the Ghost. It was his cue to approach and introductions were made, ‘Victor,’ said the Ghost when asked and the couple introduced themselves, ‘I’m Gary and this is Caroline.’

  They drank together for many hours and later that evening the Ghost found himself in their bedroom. Gary had two video cameras, one was on a tripod, the other he gave to the Ghost who undressed and moved to the corner of the room. He watched silently while the couple writhed on the bed and at one point Caroline beckoned him to join them but he covered his face and told her not to look at him. He stood in the shadows and masturbated. He liked to watch and they liked to be watched.

  The trio spent many evenings together over the next couple of weeks and on one occasion the Ghost was drinking brandy with Gary while Caroline slept upstairs. ‘I’ve got a proposition for you,’ said Gary, swirling the alcohol in his glass. ‘I normally work the cameras myself but I like the idea of bringing you in.’

  ‘I’m interested.’

  ‘The money will be pretty good.’ He passed the Ghost a handful of DVD’s. ‘I’ve done loads already; take a look through that lot. Take them with you if you want.’

  The Ghost took them and put them on the table next to him. ‘Where do you get the girls?’ he said.

  ‘The community centre is the perfect place to find messed up girls willing to get fucked in front of a camera. They’ll do just about anything for fifty quid; you’d be amazed,’ he said. ‘Tell you what; I’ll get you a job there so we can work them together. I’ve got my eye on one in particular, she’s different to my usual catch and if we manage to bag her it’ll be a real treat.’

  The Ghost sipped his drink in silence.

  Gary continued, ‘What do you think Victor, are you in?’

  ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘Caroline is much more responsive when you’re behind the camera. You can join in whenever you want.’

  ‘I just watch.’

  ‘Whatever you want to do Victor,’ he said. ‘Whatever you want to do. You’re a sick man.’

  29

  Simone heard movement behind her. She spun around with the candle above her head but the gloom held nothing but shadows, she wanted to blame her mind for playing tricks on her but she knew it wasn’t her imagination, she wasn’t alone. He was stalking her and she knew it. It wasn’t a case of if she was going to be attacked it was a case of when it was going to happen.

  She had seen the knife and knew what he had in mind she just had to be ready for when he came for her.

 
; As she continued to stare into the total blackness for the source of the sound she was sure she could make out the blurred shape of a white figure in the gloom. It was him, she was sure of it. He was standing there like a ghost watching her as she stood illuminated in the glow of her candle, peering back into the darkness.

  ‘Come on then!’ she shouted. ‘I can see you down there. I’m ready for you.’

  The figure moved fluidly to one side and she lost sight of him as he slipped into the shadows.

  She turned around and pushed on, she was completely unarmed and it was only a matter of time until he came for her. She whispered under her breath, ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ as she walked. It was the only way to supress the feeling of panic that had begun to rear its ugly head and grow inside her at the thought of having to fight him naked and alone.

  Simone was shivering with cold and fear, one arm holding the candle above her head, the other outstretched, sweeping at the shadows in front of her when she thought she heard someone shout. A voice echoed as if from tiny speakers. She stopped to listen. There it was again! She closed her eyes and concentrated only on sound. Short and abrupt unintelligible words broke the silence. She continued, holding the candle aloft while wax ran over her hand and tugged on her skin as it dried.

  Suddenly someone called out, the words echoing clearly through the tunnels. ‘Help me please!’

  Simone snatched at the idea that it must be Sylvia Croucher and the thought that she was alive not only gave Simone a sense of relief but also the knowledge that she was no longer alone and together they might stand more chance of getting out alive.

  She turned her head and tried to determine the direction of origin. Her heart pounded with excitement.

  ‘Somebody help me!’

  It came from ahead; she was going in the right direction. She walked faster than before and had to suppress the urge to run. She didn’t want to trip and fall or be plunged into darkness if the candle blew out.