Death Marks (The Symbolist) (22 page)

Redd tapped his foot in irritation; Titmouse and Seaton were late. He looked over to Bill Maddeley, his genial expression now tense. The ACC, John Mainwaring was applying pressure, trying to hand over a major part of the investigation to Titmouse. He just hoped that he could make a good argument for keeping hold of the investigation. They had made some major steps now, with the discovery of the disturbed graves, and the finger-pointing more and more to the Earl of Medbury. He just needed time - time to search the grounds - time to locate a possible place where the perpetrators would build the Wicker Man. But, as Maddeley was subordinate to the ACC, he may be forced to concede to Mainwaring's wishes. Yes, they did need another team, already they had Bognor, Littlehampton and Worthing on it, but that didn't mean giving control to Titmouse; damn politics -muddying the waters of a major crime investigation.

The beep of the intercom interrupted his thoughts. The plum tones of Maddeley's secretary came over the intercom. 'Sir, message from Sergeant Dixon, Brighton Station.' Maddeley's face tightened even more, as he listened. Clicking off the phone, he looked over to Redd, his voice grim. 'Gemma Rodenbury, Head of Research, Brighton Hospital is missing. Her car was found abandoned just off the A 27.

Redd felt his stomach clench. 'Since when?'

'Yesterday, she left to go to work - never made it. Passerby reported it - thought it was a breakdown. He was a bit suspicious, as it was unlocked. Uniforms traced it through the DVLC. She also left her briefcase with important papers in the car.'

'Sounds ominous - research - same as four of the victims - fits the profile.'

'Yeah, the boyfriend reported her missing late yesterday afternoon. She was giving the results of an important research programme to some bigwigs in pharmaceuticals. He thought she opted out of attending, as she was particularly nervous about the presentation. He ended up delaying it. By six o'clock, he was hammering the duty sergeant on the desk insisting they start a search.

'Did they?'

'No, the sergeant stuck to the initial forty-eight hours - but then the boyfriend got onto the ACC. Mainwaring wasn't too pleased I can tell you.'

Redd's brows beetled. 'This could be fucking serious, there are four victims so far that we definitely know are in research; the other one was a member of the sect, but now another researcher. For God's sake, what's the matter with this desk sergeant - bloody fool?'

Maddeley frowned. 'Five victims now possibly six; that's why we're having the meeting, the ACC, the CC and the town mayors are screaming for results. The ACC's on my back. I can only argue for a bit more time. I don't know that I can refuse Dan.'

'The case is beginning to crack Bill; I just need a few more days.'

'Okay, that's all I can give you, then it's out of my hands.'

'We're getting there. At the moment, we're devising a way to infiltrate a suspect's estate.'

'So who is it?'

'The Earl of Medbury.'

'Come on - you've got to be kidding me.'

'No - I'm serious Bill - he's a suspect. We're keeping it under wraps until we're sure. I only saw him as a possibility, yesterday afternoon. I sent you the report.'

'I haven't had time to read it yet. I'm snowed under here - what with the fucking cuts. My secretary's tearing out her hair, lost the two typists. We're operating on fifty per cent at the moment. First to go were the office staff, community officers and then uniforms. But, you think it could be Medbury?'

'We need more evidence - but more and more it's looking like him.'

Bill frowned. 'Well he's in the wars now; the dowager was rushed into hospital last night - she's delirious -poor old girl, suffers from Alzheimer's and Vascular dementia.'

Redd raised his eyebrows; he didn't know the DCC was that close to Medbury.

Seeing the quizzical look, Bill said, 'Been friends for years, well with the Dowager really.' He turned, pointing to a dark canvas painting, filling the far wall. 'Because we're friends I have to be polite. Look what I have to put up with. The earl officially presented it to Mainwaring, but he said he didn't have wall space. So, I'm lumbered with it. That's all I want is a fucking monstrosity, fucking morbid.'

Redd listened quietly; Bill's language could be quite colourful when roused. Bill continued, '
But, it doesn't do to get on the wrong side of the earl, so I'll have to put up with it.

Redd turned around to the painting, a landscape some six feet by eight feet. His heart leapt to his throat. Rising to his feet he walked over to it. 'My God Bill ....' Lost for words, he examined the scene before him, Medbury House, with its spacious wings either side stood in the background, to the foreground were deer grazing on cropped grass. At the entrance to a dark grove of yew trees, a white hind hovered, one dainty hoof lifted towards a tilted gravestone on which perched a raven. Further into the trees, stood a skeleton with bony fingers pointed to a line of hooded figures walking through the trees towards a beautiful woman dressed in white. In a slender hand, she held a salmon, with a large green toad at her feet.

Bill came and stood beside him. 'Have you ever seen anything like it? The artist must be demented.'

Redd went nearer, stooping to read the inscription on the gravestone murmuring, '
They look like some form of code, a load of marks on straight lines - Christ - it's the bloody Oghams again.' Standing back, he said, 'Medbury's made a big mistake, or he's so bloody arrogant; he doesn't care.'

Crossing his arms, studying the painting, Bill said, '
Arrogant?'

'He's telling you - putting the message right under your noses. The Oghams are used on every message left with the bodies, ancient Gaul alphabet. God he must be enjoying this. Has Titmouse sent you Dr
. Davies's reports? '

Bill shook his head. 'The Symbolist? No - and if he did, I will have to take his word or yours for it. As I said, we're chocker block here.'

'This is very much like a Masonic painting; it's symbolic - only here; the symbols refer to the druids. This confirms the Vicar's remarks, the Earl of Medbury is a Druid, no doubt about it.'

Bill countered, '
But you will find these symbols in any gothic painting. It's just a macabre iconic style; a fucking monstrosity. As I said being friendly with the Medbury's I didn't want to insult them by refusing it. They do a lot for Head Office one way and another.'

Shaking his head, Redd replied, 'So how d'you find the
earl?'

'Eccentric - I have more to do with the Dowager really, she's a patron for quite a few charities including our own for injured policemen. Sadly, as I said she's losing it now.'

'Uh, sorry to hear that. So, getting back to the painting and the Oghams, it's too much of a co-incidence. In addition, the druids revere the raven, the white hind, let alone the oak tree and the yew tree grove. Then to top it all there's the salmon - the most sacred symbol.'

Maddeley laughed. 'Salmon? Sorry Dan it just tickled me - a fish?'

'Yes - but my symbolist will tell you more.'

Bill stroked his clean-shaven chin. 'How the hell are we going to deal with this -Medbury may just have inherited the damn thing.'

Redd took out his notebook. 'I'll just jot these down and get them to our symbolist. I've also got to get to the research labs as well. All five victims were employed there including Rodenbury.'

'You've got your hands full.'

Redd look squarely at the DC. 'I have to say this Bill, with due respect, if Medbury is involved, why did he present this to the ACC and then go on a killing spree? Is Mainwaring involved as well?'

'I don't know that we should suspect any ulterior motives here. After all, the ACC did try to palm it off onto me. He wasn't hiding anything.'

Frowning Redd said, 'In view of this, I really think we should keep this to ourselves. It may be that Mainwaring is completely innocent, but prudence is needed.'

Maddeley nodded. 'In this instance yes. We'll have to keep an eye on him. So get going Dan, I'm cancelling this meeting. You're on countdown - as I said - a few days - that's all.'

Guessing the inscription on the gravestone, would have some significance, Redd drove over to Tess. He needed to clear it up before picking Dove up and going to the hospital research lab.

Parking the car in the driveway, he heard an unearthly howl, as a blaze of white, black and tan fur hurtled towards him. Sweetpea - oh God; he put up his hands in self-defen
se. Giving a screech, Sweetpea leapt, putting huge paws on Redd's shoulders, his long wet tongue furiously licking, nose and cheeks, before becoming engrossed with the inside of Redd's ears.

Tess's voice rang out, 'Sweetpea, put him down now - now - stop it.'

Ignoring her, Sweetpea yelped licking and gulping air. Redd struggled to get away - the dog was crazy - fucking crazy. Over Sweetpea's shoulder, he saw Tess running towards them; saw strong arms pulling the dog off him. She was tough; the mutt must weigh at least a hundred and twenty pounds.

'Precious stop it - stop it now. Mummy's good boy.'

He muttered, 'Good boy? I'm sopping wet.'

Tess laughed, '
Shows Sweetpea really likes you. He's washing you. You're now a member of the pack.'

Redd clenched his teeth; this was not the time for joking.

'Now, if he didn't like you, he'd have ignored you.'

'Great, I can put up with his dislike.'

Seeing his annoyance, she smiled, 'He's my bodyguard Redd, you should have let me know you were coming.'

As she went to rise, a button popped open on her check shirt, her full cleavage in a lacy bra' on view.

Feeling the blood rush to his head, he averted his eyes. 'I'll remember next time.'

'Here wipe your face.' Handing him a facecloth, she said, 'It is clean - washed this morning. Your collar's wet through as well.'

As Tess poured him a cup of tea, he watched the curve of her waist, the slim hips. Pulling himself together, he recounted his visit to the DCC giving exact details of the painting and Mainwaring's part in it. Taking out his notepad, he showed her his copy of the inscription on the gravestone.

Frowning, Tess scrutini
zed the markings. 'Yes - you're right - it's Ogham again. Hang on, they've used more of the alphabet here, I'll just go and get my files.'

As she left the room, Sweetpea ambled over. Putting his heavy head on Redd's knee, he gazed up, adoration in his brown eyes, Redd mellowed, tickling the fur under the dog's throat he murmured, '
Yeah, you're alright you great mutt - alright.' Sweetpea's tongue appeared immediately. 'No - enough of that, let's get past the washing stage shall we?' Getting the message, the dog sat close, gulping loads of air.'

Tess returned, waving the file. 'Here it is.' Sitting at the table, she studied Redd's copy of the inscription then her file, writing down the meaning of each mark. After a few minutes, she said, 'Got it - here goes -
The Druid lies not in the grave for he receiveth life everlasting, forever reaching into new forms and new life
.' She paused, 'The only thing is Redd; it is not true druidic practice. They had an oral history, they never wrote anything down. As I said to you before, it's only through the Romans whom we know anything about them - Tacitus and Gaius Julius Caesar.'

Redd nodded. 'Now we have to find a way in, but I don't have enough probable cause for a search warrant. They have open days most of the week for the public, can't you go along as a tourist?'

'No, Medbury knows most of us and if Mainwaring is involved, then it's a no go situation. Anyway, we'd have to find a way into explore the mansion and the grounds.'

'But surely with this?'

'No, it's not enough. It's circumstantial, I mean I can't do anything yet, all we have is a painting.' He broke off as the phone vibrated in his pocket. Taking it out, he saw the DCC's number. 'Hello Redd speaking.'

'Hi Dan, just had a call from the hospital. I'm phoning on behalf of the Dowager, the doctor' told me she's screaming blue murder about cutup bodies and dudds which I presume are druids. She's insisting there has been a murder at Medbury. In between her loss of memory spells, she can carry out a coherent conversation. So it is up to you, if you want to pursue it.'

'Thanks Bill; the whole case is insane, so anything is worth a try.'

Putting the face cloth on the table, Redd rose from the chair. 'I've got to get back to the hospital; the Dowager is screaming about severed limbs and dudds. She could be referring to druids.'

Tess stood. 'Shall I come with you?'

'Might be an idea - could be we've at last got a way into the Medbury Estate. The
earl is with her, by the way.'

'Just the break you needed. Hang on, I'll just make sure Sweetpea's okay.'

Flanked by Dove and Tess, Redd walked into the private suite, just off the geriatric ward. The crisp smell of antiseptic almost covered the rank odour of urine and faeces. A nurse led the way to the door at the end of the corridor. Opening it, she said, 'Be prepared, the Dowager is upset. She can be lucid at times, but she is also distressed.'

A doctor well into his fifties, bent over fixing a cannula into the dowagers liver spotted hand. He murmured, '
Cough now.'

The old woman raised her head from the pillow. 'Why?'

'Just cough my dear'

The Dowager frowned. 'My lady if you please.' The doctor smiled benignly. 'It will help me if you cough.'

Glaring, she gave a strangled cough, upon which, he plunged the needle into a knotted vein, swiftly putting the cannula in place. Turning to Redd, he said, 'Can I help you?'

Redd flashed his warrant card. 'DCI Daniel Redd and this is DS Felicity Dove.'

The doctor inclined his head, waving Redd to the bedside, whilst he continued to clear up the surgical equipment.

'Who are you?' The Dowager peered at Redd.

Once again, Redd put up his ID card. 'Good morning ma'am, I hope you don't mind if I ask you a few questions?'

The Dowager tutted, '
My lady, if you please. How impudent, you young pup. You don't look old enough to be out of nappies, let alone be a policeman.'

A nurse ran to her aid, as she tried to raise herself higher in the bed only to have the Dowager to slap the woman's hands away.

At that moment, the door opened to admit the Earl of Medbury. 'Mummy, don't do that - that's naughty.'

The Dowager rounded on him, 'Freddie, what have you done with Ju...?' She breathed a sigh of irritation. 'I can't remember her name.'

'You mean Julia, Mummy?'

'Yes Julia, where is she? What have you done with her?' Before the
earl could reply, she said, 'I know what you've done. You've cut her up into tiny pieces, and you've put her in a plastic bag that's what you've done.' Turning abruptly to Dove she said, 'Are you the police?'

As Dove nodded, the old woman turned to Tess. 'And who are you?'

'Doctor Tessa Davies my lady.'

'Another Doctor - I need to speak to the police.'

Dove stepped forward. 'We are the police milady. How can we help you?'

'Yes, it's Freddie - you heard me. He's cut up my granddaughter into little pieces.'

The earl stroked her forehead. 'Mummy - don't - I wouldn't - she's my own daughter.'

'Oh yes you have.'

Redd glanced over to Dove and then Tess. Was she speaking the truth or were they the words of a deranged mind? The Dowager broke down sobbing, as Freddie rushed to her side. 'Mummy, Mummy, don't - don't cry - it's me - your Freddie—'

'You little shit - always has been - cutting up cockroaches - now you've cut up Ju ... Julia.'

Putting his arms around her, Freddie cried, 'Mummy - no - I would never hurt her.'

Pushing him away, she raged, '
You're the devil's son, just like your bloody father - but worse.' She looked up to Redd, 'It was the Dudds - terrible creatures, very rude - naked - obscene.'

Freddie tapped in a number on his cell phone. 'Mummy; I am phoning Julia right now; you can talk to her.... Julia? Daddy here. Please talk to Nana - she is accusing me of cutting you up in pieces.'

The Dowager took the phone from him. 'Baby; it's Nana - you're not dead? I'm so worried.' On listening for a few seconds, her eyes narrowed. 'You're not Juju - who are you?' She handed the phone to Redd, 'Listen to this, listen - that's not her - not heeeerrrr.' Her voice ended in a screech.

Redd took the phone. 'Yes - yes. Detective Chief Inspector Redd speaking - yes, your grandmother is very worried about you ... yes ... quite ... right. Well thank you, I'll tell her.'

The Dowager rasped, 'Well - did you hear? That wasn't her.'

Redd put the phone back in its cradle. 'I think we've cleared the matter up.' Nodding to the Dowager, he said, '
Your granddaughter is safe and sound my lady. She should be in to see you later.'

'It's not her - I tell you - it's not her.' As they left, the clatter of their shoes on the highly polished tiles of the corridor, did not drown her cries.

Redd opened the doors for them to walk through. Outside he turned to them. 'The dowager's granddaughter is nineteen years old; that was the voice of a much older woman on the phone.

***

Nurse Phillipa put down the phone, giving Julia a smug smile. 'Well, that's taken care of that.'

Julia struggled with a nylon cord, tying her to a chair. 'Don't you be so bloody sure? She knows my voice. She won't give up. She loves me - brought me up from a baby.'

'Oh come on now, you know she can't stand children - couldn't bear the sight of her own son -can't even now.'

'Why should she? I've heard Dad was a right little slime bag. She may not have liked kids, but she changed with me - shocked everyone. She won't let this go. She's not so far gone she doesn't know what's going on.'