So was it just a random act of violence?
The killer could have left the scene either way along the canal, north or south, or gone up the steps to the bridge that crossed over the water and escaped east or west.
Summers thought the likely escape route was along the canal, as one would expect less human contact that way, meaning less chance of witnesses, but she walked up the steps to the road and had a look around anyway.
There were CCTV cameras recording the activity on and around the road above the canal. This would cost more man hours, going through any recordings, but never-the-less that had to be done as well. Anyone filmed near the bridge that morning could be the killer, or maybe seen the killer, before or after the murders took place.
She descended back down to the crime scene as her mobile phone began to vibrate in her pocket.
‘Yes, chief,’ she answered.
Summers gave Watts a quick run-down of the situation. Two dead bodies, viciously murdered, no witnesses so far and probably no DNA evidence.
‘That bloody Phantom,’ he said. ‘He must have left some sort of clue. He’s bound to fuck up sooner or later.’
Looking thoughtfully at the stains of blood on the concrete floor, Kite overheard Summers say to Watts, ‘We’re not even sure The Phantom is responsible, sir.’
‘What?’ Watts said in a lowered voice. Wherever he was, he didn’t want people to listen to what he was about to say. ‘Listen, Summers, at this moment in time, our number one suspect is The Phantom, understood? The last thing I need is the press reporting another murderer is on the loose, it will only cause panic.’
And there it was, as Summers had thought.
Certain murder cases, those going cold with no real evidence and no chance of being solved, were being attributed to The Phantom. It was the Chief’s way of purging paperwork, maybe. This would, or could, explain the five cases Summers had separated from the seventeen she was given earlier that day. It didn’t mean that The Phantom was not responsible, but it would be harder to prove, even circumstantially, that they are all linked. The best bet in clearing up this situation, is to gather concrete evidence against the killer, and hope he confesses, taking responsibility for all his murders. The cases leftover could then be passed to the Cold Case Department for further investigation, or dropped off the radar completely.
15
Natalie hit the call button on the phone in her hand. She wanted to tell Ben to come home so they could sort things out. She wanted him to know that, although she had obviously done a very bad thing, that their relationship was worth fighting for.
She wanted him to know that he would never find her in bed with another man again, but she also wanted him to admit, that by not keeping her satisfied sexually, he was partly to blame for what had happened earlier that day.
The phone rang three rings before being forwarded to answer machine.
BEEP
‘Well don’t answer the fucking phone then, Ben. See if I give a shit.’
She always had trouble keeping her cool, especially when she was at risk of losing something she wanted, or getting something she didn’t want.
She didn’t want to leave Ben’s house, she had spent over two years getting the décor just as she wanted it. It really was a comfortable place to live and in a good location. Neither did she want Ben to find out she was a whore, she wasn’t ashamed as such, but knew keeping things discreet was better for business.
She stomped from the lounge and into the bedroom, grabbed a suitcase from beside the wardrobe and slung it open on the bed. She looked at the empty case and her designer clothes, hung up in order of colour. Could she walk away? Could she not keep her cool, convince Ben it was a one off and get things back on track?
She casually filled the case whilst pondering over what to do. By the time it was full of clothes and closed shut, she really didn’t know whether she was going or staying.
Would Ben be back tonight? Would he even let her stay if he did come back?
She sat down on the bed, just as she received a text message on her phone, her stomach churned as she took it in hand and prepared herself for the response from Ben. But the text wasn’t from her angry boyfriend, it was from Mr Money.
YOU BUSY?
Natalie couldn’t do anything about the Ben situation while he wasn’t home and not answering his mobile, so decided she may as well keep herself occupied. She gave Mr Money the response he was hoping for.
16
Ben was shattered. The events of the day were taking their toll.
It isn’t every day you lose your job. It’s not every day that you discover first hand that your loved one is cheating on you. For most, committing a double murder will never happen. Then on top of all that, Ben had his mother insinuating that his father was an infamous serial killer.
He was exhausted.
He had strong doubts that the anger management meeting would be of any benefit to his situation, but after loitering outside for a few minutes and realising he didn’t have anywhere else to go, he found himself sat down in the back row of the civic centre meeting room.
The room filled up soon enough, and on the hour, the counsellor entered the room and introduced herself. The lack of attention paid to her by most of the group gave Ben the impression that most of them were regulars.
Maggie was a kind lady, volunteering one evening a week to help those in her local community who were honest enough to admit they had some issues to deal with, not forgetting those who were forced to attend by the local courts following some type of violent or anti-social behaviour. One could tell the difference between those who chose to be there and those who were forced to attend; the contrast between interest and disinterest couldn’t be clearer.
One by one, the group introduced themselves, gave a brief explanation of why they were there. Some people gave lengthy stories of past events with personal theories as to what led to their disturbing thoughts or violent outbursts, or both. Others played down their level of aggression and defensively pleaded their normality.
Ben actually appeared quite shy. Did his history of talking to strangers over the phone not translate to live confessions to complete unknowns in a therapy group? Or was it that he was too scared to let slip a vital piece of incriminating information, the sort of information that could lead to conviction for a double murder?
There were often snide comments made between and against members of the group. Some of these people just couldn’t bite their tongue and had to throw in their two pennies worth. Some were just plain mean. But one person in particular caught Ben’s eye.
Eve, a young lady, maybe early twenties, had the same aggressive streak as the others, but she was more about protecting the victims of the heckling from those who weren’t so nice, more about using her aggressiveness to defend those who needed to be defended.
Ben received a couple of comments from a big guy sat a few seats away from him, nothing too strong, being told to speak up, speak clearly, the ruffian even mimicking Ben’s well-spoken dialect. Eve took offence to this and stood up, pointed at the man and gave him a piece of her mind.
‘Why don’t you keep your stupidity to yourself for once, Trevor? Give the man a chance,’ she said, before smiling at Ben and sitting back down.