Chapter 8
The media were making mischief with insinuation. Claims of malpractice were levelled against the police for detaining Friend without charging him with anything. Cousins had issued denials, explaining that he was merely helping with their enquiries. The Ping-Pong eventually drew Bradstock into the fray. He demanded chapter and verse on why Friend had not been charged with assisting Frank with the coffin. Despite repeated concern that Frank would react badly to this, Bradstock was unmoved. Renton became exasperated but was told to comply.
“Listen Jack,” said Cousins, “I’ve exhausted all arguments with the Chief and technically he’s right.”
“He may be right but it’s still the wrong decision and we both know it. I refuse to take responsibility for the direct consequences unless we can put him in a safe house for a while. We need breathing space to discuss this with Frank. We can tell the media that he’s been released pending further investigation. If we’re going to play everything by the book, we don’t have proof yet that Friend has done anything unlawful. He has admitted to helping Frank with an empty coffin – so what would we charge him with? I’m sure the Crown Prosecution Service won’t go near that even though Donoghue has declared a probable match of Friend’s boots to the Priory prints.”
“Ok, I’ll try that angle on Bradstock. Let’s hope the speculation prompts Frank to call you.”
*
Sam Gibson began his missing persons search again, deciding on the head of the dark-skinned woman. He felt there was a better chance of identification with forensics having possession of the actual head. His confidence grew with each area he checked, no potential candidates had come up so far, and he believed the age, time of disappearance, and ethnicity trawl would ultimately throw up only a few names. Working late into the evening he ended up with a single name. Martha Blake had disappeared in strange circumstances. She had been married twice, once in her birthplace of Jamaica, and after a bitter divorce she had fled to England. After living with and working for her brother in London, she struck up a relationship with Robert Blake. They married after a short engagement, as he was called into service in Yemen, the latest Middle East state to attract U.N. ground troops for a peacekeeping mission. Gibson set off to speak with her brother.
*
The tension increased as the LED flickered at last. Renton picked up.
“You have a dilemma according to the media. I hope you will make a wise decision, even if it is a difficult one. You still have the option to let Friend go free. He will survive – it’s in the plan.”
“Now that the press has stirred the hornet’s nest, our regulations will come under severe scrutiny. I could’ve let him go when you first suggested I should, but having declined to do that on compassionate grounds we have to proceed carefully. If you’re sure he can get by on his own I’ll push for his release. Can I ask a question related to our last conversation?”
“Be my guest.”
“Why have you narrowed your posts to just a few sites, and two in particular?”
“An interesting observation; it makes me think that you are paying due attention to whatever I pass on to you. The answer is rather complicated, suffice it to say that this pattern of posting will continue for a while unless the sites I choose run into difficulty.”
“I see.” Renton gambled, “Although you said there were interesting threads under discussion, when I applied whatever lateral thinking capability I’ve got, most of the subject matter delivered nothing. However, the two sites I alluded to had some genuine thought-provoking statements and counter-arguments.”
“Really, and what conclusions did you draw?”
“We’re still assessing those we’ve listed. I’ll engage with you when we complete the task; that is if you continue to call regularly.”
“That is something you can rely upon Inspector. I leave you to your cerebral exercise.” Renton heard the disconnection click.
*
Bradstock had conceded to common sense, rather than push the rule book in the direction of the Crown Prosecutor. When Friend was released it suddenly struck all officers who had met him that their own little problems were insignificant. The desk sergeant summed it up well as Friend smiled while pushing aside a tear.
“There’s always someone worse off than you are, you don’t have to look far today.” Ben Adams wasn’t the only one who noticed the emotional retreat of Jack Renton to his office. He quietly asked the others to give him some time alone. After a few minutes Adams took his coffee in and blandly asked, “Are you going to put a tail on him? I’m only asking because this is still a murder investigation and I’m not sure where this falls with respect to our communication and evidence tasks. If it’s left to me I’ll get on to it immediately.”
“Good point Ben, I was considering this as well. If Frank has washed his hands of this poor guy, I suggest you take care of it. He may lead us somewhere and you’re right, it could be construed as negligent to allow him to disappear altogether.” Adams detailed a plain clothes officer to shadow Friend until further notice.
The call came from Uncle Nigel, and was passed on by Bernard Cousins. “We could have predicted this Jack, but that doesn’t diminish the fact that we have a report of a severed human arm being placed in Penshaw Monument. As this normally comes under Wearside jurisdiction I’m going to the Sunderland station to assess the situation personally.”
“Just a minute Sir, how come Bradstock knew of this before you did?”
“That’s the second problem; one of his officers was alerted that it had been posted on the internet late last night.”
“Do you know which site was used?”
“No, but I will find out soon enough, of that I am pretty sure.”
“Ok, leave that with me and I’ll get Stephanie to run it to ground. I assume you’ll let me know if we have to cooperate with Sunderland, if this incident is linked to our investigation.”
“Of course, I’ll get back to you as soon as I know more.”
“Thanks, oh shit, the LED is flashing. It’ll be him. I’d better take the call now.” He heard no voice. “Hello, D.C.I. Renton, can I help you?”
“Well, what do you make of this report about Penshaw Monument?”
“I’ve only just heard and I know nothing at present. Perhaps you can fill in some of the details for me. By the way, Friend has been released.”
“That is good news Inspector. I have more good news to share. Whether or not the Penshaw story is true, it has nothing to do with me. It would be flouting the principles of chivalry if I pretended this was my work. I suppose you may have an amateurish copycat. I will not allow this to derail my plan, so I would welcome a quick resolution of the incident.”
“In that case I can tell you it won’t come under the Newcastle jurisdiction, if indeed it isn’t linked. So I’m afraid I have no influence over that incident – it will be a separate investigation.”
“Wonderful, have you put a tail on Friend?”
“We probably will. I’m short of manpower but I’d still like to see that he’s going to be alright. However I can’t justify this for long.”
“Speak to you soon. We will have cause.”
Renton sank into his chair, looked at the ceiling and was temporarily drawn to the cracks in the plasterwork. They were mostly very fine, but ultimately ran toward one major fault line, like streams gathering force before becoming tributaries to a mighty river. He shook his head and asked Adams, Eva, Stephanie and Sam to join him. The lack of surprise at the actual incident was in contrast to the declaration by Frank. Eva offered a possible explanation.
“If he wants to distance himself from those who try to copy him in such mindless acts of attention-seeking, it is likely to be because he wants to protect his cause. Perhaps he feared something like this was going to happen, and it’s important to get it out of the way quickly. There could be others, and he won’t want to expend a lot of time disentangling them from his crusade. I think this could influence
his appetite and method for posting information.”
There was a long silence. Adams asked the obvious question.
“What the hell are we supposed to do about it? We investigate crime. We’re not agony aunts for psychos. I think this chat line we’ve got with him is becoming untenable. Apart from the internet addicts, the public don’t see this as any different to talking with terrorists. We can say it’s to save lives, and I believe that it could, up to a point, but that point is dependent on not provoking him. It confers credibility to his perverted cause by default. He’s clever enough to exploit this at our expense. Maybe I’m not being helpful by saying this but the communication with him makes me feel really dirty.”
Renton looked around the group and detected accord with Adams from Stephanie and Sam. He was actually becoming unsure himself.
“I see where you’re coming from Ben, and your analogy with terrorists isn’t lost on me. Our politicians have always stated that they won’t have dialogue with such people, as it can actually further their agenda. However, these politicians constantly demonstrate hypocrisy otherwise we wouldn’t have certain people in political power who were previously terrorists. I want to nail this murderer, and I want Sunderland to nail whoever planted the severed arm. We will have to review this link with Frank regularly because I’ll only tolerate it if it helps us. If we really are convinced we can make more progress without it, I’ll shut it down, despite the attendant risk.”
Chapter 9
Renton passed Frank’s message on to Cousins and it was agreed that Sunderland would conduct their own inquiry. Bradstock was happy to hear this and even more supportive of the decision to release Friend. None of them could have realised they were on the cusp of a truly pivotal moment in the Frankenstein case.
Only a few days after the confirmation that the severed arm in Penshaw Monument was from a recently deceased person, they had the identity. The DNA was a match for a previously convicted drug dealer on the database. Sandy Evans had only been released a week ago after serving six years in Durham high security prison. In those few days a pattern had emerged around the world. Dismembered bodies or parts of bodies began to appear in famous buildings. Ukraine, Australia, and Japan preceded North America, Argentina, France, Denmark, and Lithuania. The internet was ablaze with comments and vicarious excitement. Frank had created monsters of a different kind. The frenzy for more comment from him was so intense that he made a call to Renton.
“I have to tell you that our audio communication is at an end. In order to differentiate my work from this contagion, I am stating here and now that there will be no more killing by my hand until it ceases. I refuse to have my mission wrecked by the kind of people in whose opinion I have no interest. I have also decided to terminate posting on the web, instead I will periodically offer morsels of advice on your Intranet. So Inspector, we are back to square one. Despite this radical adjustment, I continue to help the walking dead, as there is a never-ending stream of such individuals who need me. I have appreciated your candour during the last few weeks, farewell.”
There was no accommodation of a response from Renton, who experienced simultaneous but almost incompatible emotions. He was relieved at the declaration of no more killing by Frank, and he believed him. The severance of the phone calls created the analogy of parachuting out of an aeroplane only to decide within two seconds that it would have been better to stay aboard. His pragmatism gradually came to the fore, it was Frank who had panicked, and when he informed the team he simply said, “It wasn’t our decision, so we just roll with the punches. At least we can now clearly focus on the five victims from the composite corpse.” Eva Roberts was quick to agree with him.
“It also tells me that I can return to Holland. I’ll stay in touch and help in any way you feel appropriate.” This break-up of the team was unwelcome but logical.
Renton was now keen to pore through Stephanie’s completed analysis of the threads on cruc-efiction.com and maryshelley-fr.biz and he asked both Adams and Gibson to join in to cast their eyes over the raw data.
After hours of cross-checking the categories of posts and their authors, they felt they had narrowed the field sufficiently to begin applying judgement. Adams remarked that the entire exercise amounted to nothing other than an extension of the original verbal conflict over the Crusades and speculation over the particular section of humanity to which Frank had aligned himself. He braced himself for a rebuke from Renton.
“That’s a brilliant observation Ben; I’ve been fixated on finding some blindingly convoluted but significant lead. He’s been coaxing us in this direction while concentrating his updates to the two sites where there’s continual reinforcement of the same debates. Or am I seeing yet another mirage?”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Sam Gibson nervously stated that he wasn’t good at this kind of mental gymnastics and changed the tenor of the discussion. “Now that he has pulled the plug on talking to us, maybe he will still follow us and take more photos, assuming he can continue to invade the Intranet with snippets of information.” Renton encouraged him to continue. “Well, we missed him twice in the woods, so we should put a plain clothes tail on ourselves to observe any other suspicious character. We know from the walkers and the couple with the dog that he’s about thirty, tall, and with an athletic build. It’s worth a try.”
Adams and Stephanie were keener on this than trying to second guess Frank’s mind games. Renton conceded to Sam’s idea for a finite period.
“Ok, let’s see what this brings up over the next couple of weeks. You’re all looking at me as if I’m trying to jump into Eva Roberts’ profiling shoes, now that she’s gone. Don’t deny it – it’s written all over your faces. Well you’re probably right in a way, because we still haven’t a clue about why he’s doing all of this stuff. The three of you should get on with the routine stuff and indulge me while I fully process Frank’s decision to pull back from the evil he has spawned on the internet. Up until he did withdraw I was pretty sure this wave of copycats would somehow have pleased him. Ben, I want you to follow your gut on the scant evidence we’ve got. I also need to evaluate the intensely personal nature of the calls he made to me. You all heard them but I was the only one in whom he confided. Give me a couple of days.” Jack Renton suddenly reverted to norm. “Sam, you went to see the brother of the headless woman. Are you going to tell us about it or did you just have a nice lunch?”
Gibson smiled. “Jesus, I’ve been trying to say something about that for the last four hours, but I never got the chance. Apparently her husband died before the time Greg Watson estimated she was killed. However she has a son who just happens to be eighteen years old. I’ve been trying to tell this to Ben all bloody day, but you kept cracking the whip on these website comments, so I decided to wait for my moment. What? Oh I see. You’re all flabbergasted at the revelation of a concrete lead.” Adams was about to pat him on the back.
“There’s more. The eighteen year-old boy’s birthday matches with the numbers on Frank’s second video. Fantastic Sam, can we buy you dinner Sam? Yes you can – and no fast food, it doesn’t go with a good Burgundy. Let’s go.” The boost in morale was tangible and Renton declared the celebration was on him. They wanted to avoid the city restaurants and finally settled on La Belle Epoque, on the outskirts of Corbridge. Renton had taken the suggestion from Adams, and the weight of the bill ensured he’d never forget the place.
“I was thinking I should get out more, but if this is what it costs there’s no way I can retire before I’m seventy-five. Seriously though, we have a new start tomorrow thanks to your diligence Sam. When you found out about the boy’s birth date, and subsequently a dead end from this brother of Martha Blake, did you get anything else which could help to connect him to the legless body or more importantly, the legs on the Priory corpse?”
“Nothing definite I’m afraid. Martha’s brother said he left home after his father died. There was a hell of an argument between the boy and his mother. H
e just disappeared. I haven’t given up on this though, and the brother gave me a recent photograph of the boy, which I’ll check with the second video. The theatrical make-up of the faces on that video may be troublesome but we can get forensic reconstruction comparisons done which may rule him in or out.”
*
Buoyed by this new lead, and despite the late hour Jack Renton felt he should call on Jane and Daniel. He had squared things with his son about his rather curt reaction during their last phone conversation, and he didn’t want to let things drift. He got a muted welcome and he apologised again for his frayed temper.
“I was hoping to make it up to you Daniel by giving you these concert tickets. They’re for a band performing at the Sage – Kwintessential or something like that.” Jane smiled at this charade of him being up to date on modern music, but Daniel was more circumspect.
“Yeah, right Dad, so who did you ask to get the tickets, and why two of them?”
“I thought we could take in a gig together because your mum isn’t into stuff with this kind of edge.” They all burst out laughing and Renton capitulated. “The second ticket is for whoever you want to take with you.”
“Are you being serious now?
“Of course I am, and they’re bloody good seats. I could’ve gone on holiday for less.” He handed the tickets to his son and admitted that Stephanie had suggested Kwintessential. Daniel got straight on to his mobile to his best mate and basked in the friend’s over-the-top reaction. Jane asked him to stay the night and he couldn’t refuse.
*
The team’s enthusiasm was checked slightly when the expert in forensic reconstruction took only twenty-five minutes to dismiss the possibility that Martha Blake’s son was a match for the legless corpse.
“I don’t need to dwell on this. Simple facial measurements and scale correction techniques tell me that the photo and the paused video of the young man are not one and the same person. It is therefore not justified to incur further expense on reconstructive modelling from each source. Sorry, but even inexperienced people like you should have been able to see a match was highly unlikely.” They apologised for wasting his time but he was not very gracious as he left. Renton consoled Sam.