Remains of the Night (Murder Force Book 3) Page 2
She passed him a Tyvek suit. He pulled it over his clothes while she spoke.
“Four people murdered last night,” she said. “All members of the same family. Mary and Todd Jenson, both in their forties. Their eight-year old son Steven, and his younger sister Amy, aged six.”
“The whole family?”
“Everyone except the dog.”
He wasn’t sure if she was attempting humour. He gave her a questioning look, which wasn’t easy to do while pulling the Tyvek hood over his head.
“Literally everyone except the dog,” she explained. “The family’s Jack Russell was found alive and well, under the stairs.”
Tony nodded. “Ah, okay.” Why would someone willing to kill children spare a dog’s life? Did the killer have some sort of attachment to animals that he lacked when it came to human beings? Did the dog remind him of his own family pet, and perhaps happier times when he was a child?
These were things to consider, and Tony filed them into the back of his mind.
“He called 999 and reported the crime himself,” Dani said. “Told the operator that he’d killed them.”
Tony was taken aback by that. It was unusual behaviour.
“DI Summers?”
Both Tony and Dani turned towards the source of the male voice. A balding man in his fifties was pulling down the hood of his suit as he approached them.
“Rob Cross,” he said. “I’m the crime scene manager. Would you like to have a look around?”
“Yes, please,” Dani said. “Myself and Dr Sheridan.”
“Of course. This way. But I warn you, it’s a bit grim.” He set off towards the house, pulling the hood up over his head and putting his goggles on.
Tony and Dani did the same.
As they walked along the path to the front door, Tony felt a tightness in his chest. He’d seen death before, of course. He’d seen things so bad that they’d sent him to a mental hospital for a while. But despite his extensive experience of viewing death, each time he faced it he was filled with a dread that crawled through every fibre of his body.
The SOCOs had placed raised metal plates throughout the house to protect the carpets from dirt being brought in on people’s shoes. Cross stepped up onto the first of these plates—situated in the entrance hall—and turned to Dani and Tony.
“I suppose you want to see how he got in?”
Dani nodded once in acknowledgment. She didn’t say anything, making Tony wonder how she was handling the knowledge that she was about to stare death squarely in the face.
Cross led them to the living room, at the back of the house. Through a pair of French doors, Tony could see technicians in the garden, combing through the grass and plants and examining the fence. A large double glazed window next to the doors was open, the glass near the handle bearing a jagged hole.
“He probably put a brick through it,” Cross said, indicating the window with a wave of his hand. “The key was in the lock, so he’d have no trouble reaching in and opening it once he’d smashed the pane. If only they’d kept the key somewhere else, none of this might have happened.”
Tony mentally checked the size of the window. It was large enough for any adult to climb through, so it didn’t give any clues regarding the size of the perpetrator. Tiny shards of glass covered a settee that sat beneath the window. So the intruder had broken the window, reached in and opened it, then climbed through onto the settee and he was inside. The ease by which entry had been made was chilling.
“Where was the dog found?” he asked Cross.
The crime scene manager pointed at a door that led to the under stair storage. A bowl of water and an empty bowl that had probably once held dog food sat side by side. Both bowls had the name Bertie on them.
“Where’s Bertie now?”
“He’s being combed and showered for trace DNA,” Cross said. “Then Mary Jenson’s sister says she’ll have him. He’s all she’s got left of her sister’s family.”
Tony continued to stare into the space where the dog had been found. Why look after the dog—even going so far as to make sure he had food and water—while murdering the family? It didn’t make any sense.
“There must have been a lot of noise,” he said.
He didn’t realise he’d spoken his thoughts out loud until Cross replied. “According to Mary’s sister, the dog’s deaf. He probably didn’t know there was an intruder in the house, so he didn’t bark. Not much of a guard dog, if you ask me.”
Dani pointed at the smashed window. “Still, that would have made a lot of noise.”
Cross shrugged. “Judging by the positions of the bodies upstairs, it didn’t wake anyone in the house.”
“What about the neighbours?” Tony asked her.
“We’ve got uniforms carrying out door to door enquiries. One of the houses next door is empty, but there’s a family living in the other one. If anyone heard anything, it would probably be them. We’ll know more when we get the witness statements.”
Tony nodded. He wanted all the information now, wanted to put together a mental picture of exactly what happened here last night, but these things took time. There was a process that had to be adhered to, procedures that needed to be followed. He couldn’t get all the answers right away, no matter how much he wanted them.
“Are you ready to go upstairs?” Cross asked.
Tony and Dani both nodded. The crime scene manager led them upstairs to the first floor. He paused on the landing and turned to face them. “These are the children’s bedrooms. Steven’s on the left, Amy’s on the right. They were killed in their beds. They probably didn’t know anything about it.”
“How were they killed?” Tony asked.
“Blunt force trauma. Looks like a single hammer blow to the head.”
Tony shuddered. “All right, let’s have a look.”
Cross opened the door to Steven’s room and stepped aside, waiting on the landing while Tony and Dani went inside.
The air inside the room was heavy and oppressive, making it difficult for Tony to draw a complete breath. The first thing that caught his attention was the figure lying beneath the sheets and the blood staining the pillow beneath the child’s head. He saw a shock of tousled fair hair, marred by a spatter of deep red blood, and turned away. He didn’t want to see any more than that.
Dani stepped closer to the bed and shook her head slowly. When she spoke, her voice was almost a whisper. “Who would do this, Tony?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” he said. He realised that he’d automatically lowered his voice to match hers.
Tearing his attention away from the bed, he studied the rest of the room. It looked like a typical eight year old’s room, with football posters on the wall—the boy seemed to support Leeds United—and an assortment of playthings ranging from Lego to toy cars scattered on the floor. Toys that Steven Jenson would never play with again.
When he’d seen all he needed to, Tony left the room.
On the landing, the crime scene manager nodded to him. “Like I said, it’s a bit grim. If you can’t stomach going into the girl’s room—“
“I’m fine,” Tony said. “I’ve seen worse.”
Cross nodded again. “I’m sure you have, Dr Sheridan. You were involved in that serial killer case in Canada, weren’t you?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Dani came out of the room, for which Tony was thankful. He didn’t want to stand here, in this tragic house of death, discussing the Lake Erie Ripper.
He followed the DI into Amy Jenson’s room. Like her brother, Amy was mostly covered by the bedsheets. Unlike Steven, she’d been sleeping on her back when the killer had struck the fatal blow, which meant her face was visible, clouded blue eyes staring blankly up towards the heavens, skull shattered at her hairline.
Dani let out along breath. “The poor girl.”
As he’d done in Steven’s bedroom, Tony turned away from the bed,
focussing his attention on a Disney Princess castle in the corner of the room. Amy had arranged a number of princess dolls so that they were looking out over the battlements while on the carpet below, a prince charming doll looking up at the pink walls, as if preparing to serenade the princesses above.
As he stood in Amy’s room, staring at the pink castle, Tony vowed to himself that he was going to find the person who’d done this. He wouldn’t rest until justice had been executed. How dare someone enter this family’s house and take their lives as if they meant nothing?
Suddenly short of breath, he strode out of the room and stood on the landing, leaning on the banister and trying to fill his lungs, which felt as if they’d shrivelled in his chest.
“You all right?” Cross asked him.
“I’m fine,” Tony said between gasps of air.
“I did warn you it was—“
Tony didn’t hear the rest. His ears were ringing. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned his head to see Dani standing next to him. Even though her eyes were behind goggles, he could see the concern in them.
“Tony, if you don’t want to continue…”
“I’m fine,” he said. He had no choice; he had to see what the intruder had done to the parents. He had to see everything; it would help him figure out how and why this tragedy had occurred.
“Mr and Mrs Jenson are upstairs,” Cross said. Looking at Tony, he added, “It looks like more happened up there than down here. You might want to take a minute before you go up.”
“What do you mean?” Dani asked.
“He left a message on the wall,” the crime scene manager said.
“In blood?” Tony asked.
Cross shook his head. “No, not blood. It looks like white spray paint.”
“I’m going to need to see that right away,” Tony said, heading for the flight of stairs that led up to the next level.
“Wait, there’s something else,” Cross said.
Tony ignored him and went up the stairs to the house’s second floor landing. There were three doors up here but two of them were closed. Through the one that was open, he could see a room in darkness. The Jensons had blackout curtains—much like his own—in their room, and at the moment, they were drawn, blocking out nearly all light.
Stepping across the threshold, Tony understood what Cross had meant when he’d said that more had happened here than in the children’s rooms. Mary and Todd Jenson weren’t huddled under the sheets in sleeping positions; their wrists were tied to the metal headboard with rope.
Mary had blonde hair, like her children. She was dressed in a white, satin negligee. Her face, obscured by the darkness seemed to be staring at the wall at the foot of the bed.
Her husband Todd also had fair hair. He was dressed in a pair of white Calvin Klein briefs. Like his wife, his arms were tied in a spread eagle position and his eyes stared at the wall.
Except they didn’t. Todd’s face was illuminated by the light coming from the doorway and it was clear that he had no eyes. The sockets were empty. Streaks of blood, like dark tears, had dried on the man’s face.
Steeling himself, Tony leaned closer to Mrs Jenson’s face. Her eyes were also missing.
Stepping back, Tony turned his attention to the wall the Jensons were staring at with their empty sockets.
He saw what looked like graffiti sprayed on the wall. Large white letters starkly contrasted against the dark blue wallpaper.
He couldn’t make out the words in the darkness. He went to the curtains and pulled them back, letting the sunlight into the room.
In the morning light, the painted words were easily readable.
SEE WHAT I HAVE BECOME.
Chapter 3
“He’s an enucleator,” Tony said when Dani appeared at the door.
She looked at him and frowned. “A what?”
“He takes their eyes,” he said, gesturing to Todd and Mary Jenson.
“He also leaves messages,” she said, noticing the words on the wall. “See what I have become. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “Perhaps the first thing we should ask is whether the message was left for us…or for them.” He nodded towards the Jensons.
“Tony, he took their eyes. Why would he leave them a written message if they couldn’t read it? Not to mention the fact that they were probably dead when he wrote it. I think he left this here for us to find. It fits in with the phone call he made to report his own crime. He’s taunting us.”
“Perhaps,” Tony said. He wasn’t so sure. Something about the way the message had been written at the foot of the bed, and the way Todd and Mary Jenson were tied so that they faced the painted word made him think there was more to this communication than a mere taunt.
“You don’t agree,” Dani said.
He shook his head. “No, not really. Look at the size of the words; they fill the entire wall. This message is important to him.”
“Maybe he really hates the police,” Dani said.
“No, there’s more to it than that. I’m certain of it.”
“Well, if you have any insight into how he thinks—“
“Not yet,” he said, staring at the message on the wall. “But there’s one thing I’m sure of; this isn’t the first time he’s done this.”
“Okay. I’m not aware of any crimes similar to this one, but we can have a look in the case files.”
“It won’t be exactly the same as this,” he said. “He’s been building up to this. Home invasion. Family annihilation. Murder. The use of ligatures. Enucleation. These aren’t the actions of someone just starting out, especially when he committed them all in one night. He’s done this before. Or something similar.”
“Like I said, we’ll check the files. Have you seen enough here?”
He nodded. He wanted more than anything to get out of the house, to breathe fresh air rather than the thick, stale air in here.
They went back down the stairs to the landing where Cross was waiting.
“You didn’t vomit, did you?” Cross asked Tony. “I tried to warn you about the eyes, but you wouldn’t listen.”
“I didn’t vomit,” Tony informed him.
Retracing their steps, they went down to the ground floor and out the front door. Tony resisted the urge to tear off the Tyvek suit until he got to the van. It felt tainted, as if the deathly atmosphere from the house still clung to the fabric.
When he finally reached the van, he divested himself of the garment and shoved it into a plastic bag that was labelled and taken by a crime scene technician.
Tony breathed in deep breaths of fresh air. He hadn’t been sick in the house but, strangely, felt as if he might empty the contents of his stomach onto the pavement right now. He swallowed forcefully.
“You all right?” Dani asked him.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Then, because he didn’t want her to think he was weak, he added, “I just realised I haven’t had breakfast. I function much better with a cup of coffee and a slice of toast inside me.”
“You can grab something on the way to headquarters. I’ll see you there.” She walked towards the police tape, where the gaggle of reporters shoved each other out of the way to get closer to her and shove a microphone in her face.
Tony grinned. They wouldn’t get anything out of Dani other than a surly, “No comment.” And that was if she bothered to acknowledge them at all. There was no love lost between the Detective Inspector and the media.
Sauntering over to the police tape, Tony felt a stab of disappointment that she hadn’t offered to join him for breakfast. After what he’d just seen in that house, he needed to talk to someone. Not about the gruesome scene, necessarily, but about something. Anything. Otherwise his mind would replay the scenes he’d just seen over and over in his head. Steven’s fair hair contrasted against the blood red pillow. Amy’s cloudy eyes gazing up at a bedroom ceiling she could no longer see. Todd and Mary tied to the headboard of their bed, their hollowe
d out faces staring at the words on the wall that mocked them.
“It’s all about seeing,” Tony muttered to himself, stopping for a moment to let the jumbled thoughts bubbling in his mind coalesce.
The first coherent thought that came to him was a grisly one: Why didn’t he take the children’s eyes?
Standing between the crime scene vans and the police tape, where the reporters were huddled together awaiting his arrival, he put his hand on his chin and closed his eyes, letting his train of thought travel along the tracks of his neural pathways.
The message on the wall was for Todd and Mary Jenson.
They saw it.
They saw him.
That’s why he took their eyes.
He opened his own eyes and looked for Dani beyond the crowd of journalists. He had to run his ideas past her.
His heart sank when he saw her Land Rover driving away.
“Doctor Sheridan.”
Tony looked towards the group of reporters, thinking someone couldn’t wait for him to get to the perimeter of the crime scene and had called his name, hoping for a comment. Well, they could shout him all they wanted, they weren’t going to get anything out of him.
“Doctor Sheridan.”
Now, he realised the sound was coming from behind him. He turned back to the house. Cross was standing at the back of the van. He held up a clear evidence bag and waved.
Tony couldn’t see what was in the bag the crime scene manager was showing him. He walked over to see what the man was trying to show him.
“I thought you might like to see this,” Cross said as Tony got closer. “We just moved the bodies. We found this underneath Mrs Jenson. He held up the clear evidence bag and now, Tony could see a piece of folded paper inside.
He took the bag from Cross and looked closely at the paper.
Through the clear plastic, he could see what appeared to be a single sheet of white A4 paper, folded in half, and then folded in half again. Written on the paper in black ink were five words.
To whom it may concern.
The paper was folded tightly, so Tony couldn’t see if anything was written on the inside.
“He’s sent us a message,” Cross said. “As if those bloody words on the wall weren’t enough.”