Read Online Scaredy Cat by Mark Billingham - Free Book Online
Authors: Mark Billingham
Tags: Fiction, General, Psychological, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Police, England, Serial Murders
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here? That's a hel of a busy road. He might easily have been seen.'
64 MARK BILLINGHAM
'He was. By Mr Magoo, unfortunately. Anyway, I don't think he was here very long. He just stopped and chucked her out.'
Hendricks moved aside and Thorne looked down at the woman who in a few hours would be identified as Helen Theresa Doyle. She was just a girl. Eighteen, nineteen. Her blouse was pul ed up, revealing a pierced bel ybutton. She was wearing large hoop earrings. Her skirt was torn, revealing a nasty gash at the top of her leg.
Hendricks clicked his bag shut. 'I think the wound's from where she got caught on the railings as the bastard hoicked her over the top.'
Something caught Thorne's eye and he glanced to
his right. Standing twenty or so feet away, staring straight at him, was a smal fox. A vixen, he guessed. She stood completely stil , watching the strange activity. They were on her territory. Thorne felt a peculiar pang of shame. He'd heard farmers and pro-hunt lobbyists ranting about the savagery of these animals when they kil ed, but he doubted that a creature kil ing to feed itself and its young could enjoy it. Bloodlust fed off a particular kind of intel igence. There was a shout from the top of the hil and the fox prepared to bolt but relaxed again.
Thorne could not take his eyes from the animal as it stared into the artificial y lit reality of a warped kind of human bloodlust. Of a genuine brutality. Half a minute passed before the fox sniffed the ground, its curiosity satisfied, and trotted away.
Thorne glanced at Hendricks. He'd been watching too.
Thorne took a deep breath and turned back to the gift. Conflicting emotions.
He felt revulsion at the sight of the body, anger at the
SLEEPYHEAD 65
waste. Sympathy for the relatives, and terror at the thought
of having to confront them, their rage and grief.
But he also felt the buzz.
The rush of the crime scene. The first crime scene. The thing that might smash the investigation wide open might be under their noses, waiting, asking to be found. If it was there, he'd find it. Her body...
There were leaves in her long brown hair. Her eyes were open. Thorne could see that she had a nice figure. He tried to get the thought out of his mind.
'He's always taken a bit of time before, a'n't he?' mused Hendricks. 'Nice and easy. Taken the trouble to lay them down like they'd stroked out watching tel y or cooking dinner. He didn't real y seem to care this time. Bit of a rush job .'
Thorne looked at him, asking the question.
'An hour or two at the most. She's not even cold yet.' Thorne bent down and took the girl's hand. Hendricks pul ed off his showercap then snapped off his rubber gloves, releasing a smal puff of talcum powder. As Thorne leaned forward to close the girl's eyes, the hum of the generator fil ed his head. Hendricks's voice seemed to be coming from a long wayaway.
'I can stil smel the carbolic.'
Anne Coburn sat in the dark room atthe end of a horrible day that by rights should have ended three hours earlier. The papers were forever banging on about the intolerable hours worked by junior doctors but senior ones didn't exactly have it easy. A meeting with the administrator that should have taken an hour, and lasted three, had given her 66 MARK BILLINGHAM
a headache that was only just starting to abate. It had raged through two lectures, a consultation round, an argument with the registrar and a mountain of paperwork. And David was stil on the warpath...
She sat back in the chair and massaged her temples. Christ, these chairs were uncomfortable. Had they been designed that way deliberately to encourage visitors to deposit their fruit and bugger off?.
Maybe if David had stil been at home she'd have left the paperwork, but not any more. The house would be quiet. Rachel would be tucked up in bed by now, watching some emaciated drug casualty with too much eyeliner prancing about on MTV.
She thought about her daughter for a while.
They hadn't been
64 MARK BILLINGHAM
'He was. By Mr Magoo, unfortunately. Anyway, I don't think he was here very long. He just stopped and chucked her out.'
Hendricks moved aside and Thorne looked down at the woman who in a few hours would be identified as Helen Theresa Doyle. She was just a girl. Eighteen, nineteen. Her blouse was pul ed up, revealing a pierced bel ybutton. She was wearing large hoop earrings. Her skirt was torn, revealing a nasty gash at the top of her leg.
Hendricks clicked his bag shut. 'I think the wound's from where she got caught on the railings as the bastard hoicked her over the top.'
Something caught Thorne's eye and he glanced to
his right. Standing twenty or so feet away, staring straight at him, was a smal fox. A vixen, he guessed. She stood completely stil , watching the strange activity. They were on her territory. Thorne felt a peculiar pang of shame. He'd heard farmers and pro-hunt lobbyists ranting about the savagery of these animals when they kil ed, but he doubted that a creature kil ing to feed itself and its young could enjoy it. Bloodlust fed off a particular kind of intel igence. There was a shout from the top of the hil and the fox prepared to bolt but relaxed again.
Thorne could not take his eyes from the animal as it stared into the artificial y lit reality of a warped kind of human bloodlust. Of a genuine brutality. Half a minute passed before the fox sniffed the ground, its curiosity satisfied, and trotted away.
Thorne glanced at Hendricks. He'd been watching too.
Thorne took a deep breath and turned back to the gift. Conflicting emotions.
He felt revulsion at the sight of the body, anger at the
SLEEPYHEAD 65
waste. Sympathy for the relatives, and terror at the thought
of having to confront them, their rage and grief.
But he also felt the buzz.
The rush of the crime scene. The first crime scene. The thing that might smash the investigation wide open might be under their noses, waiting, asking to be found. If it was there, he'd find it. Her body...
There were leaves in her long brown hair. Her eyes were open. Thorne could see that she had a nice figure. He tried to get the thought out of his mind.
'He's always taken a bit of time before, a'n't he?' mused Hendricks. 'Nice and easy. Taken the trouble to lay them down like they'd stroked out watching tel y or cooking dinner. He didn't real y seem to care this time. Bit of a rush job .'
Thorne looked at him, asking the question.
'An hour or two at the most. She's not even cold yet.' Thorne bent down and took the girl's hand. Hendricks pul ed off his showercap then snapped off his rubber gloves, releasing a smal puff of talcum powder. As Thorne leaned forward to close the girl's eyes, the hum of the generator fil ed his head. Hendricks's voice seemed to be coming from a long wayaway.
'I can stil smel the carbolic.'
Anne Coburn sat in the dark room atthe end of a horrible day that by rights should have ended three hours earlier. The papers were forever banging on about the intolerable hours worked by junior doctors but senior ones didn't exactly have it easy. A meeting with the administrator that should have taken an hour, and lasted three, had given her 66 MARK BILLINGHAM
a headache that was only just starting to abate. It had raged through two lectures, a consultation round, an argument with the registrar and a mountain of paperwork. And David was stil on the warpath...
She sat back in the chair and massaged her temples. Christ, these chairs were uncomfortable. Had they been designed that way deliberately to encourage visitors to deposit their fruit and bugger off?.
Maybe if David had stil been at home she'd have left the paperwork, but not any more. The house would be quiet. Rachel would be tucked up in bed by now, watching some emaciated drug casualty with too much eyeliner prancing about on MTV.
She thought about her daughter for a while.
They hadn't been
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