Angels Bleed (Fallen Angels Book 1) (14 page)

11:01 am

Saul stood at the top of the circular car park in the middle of Newcastle and looked out over the city, losing himself in the surrounding normality of the everyday.  The sun was shimmering, high in the cloudless blue sky, reflecting off the glass cover over the main stands of St James Park, the football stadium looming large over the city centre.  The city was buzzing with everyday life, people parking up and heading off into the main shopping centre, Eldon Square, or off to the main shopping streets nearby.  It was approaching lunchtime, so a steady stream of students could be seen exiting the University Buildings opposite and heading off to one of the many pubs in the Haymarket area. 

A ten year old, immaculate blue Vauxhall Corsa pulled into a spare parking bay next to his SLK and DI Saxon got out of it.

‘Sorry to keep you waiting Sir, the traffic coming in was heavy.’ said Saxon, coming up alongside him and taking in the view too.

‘No problem Saxon.  Newcastle at lunchtime can be a bit gridlocked, especially around the Haymarket.  It’s where all the buses terminate.  It’s easier to get down to Grey Street from here.  Do you have the address?’ he asked as he started walking down the spiral road of the car park.

‘Yes Sir, number fifty seven.’ she answered, following on slightly behind him as there wasn’t enough room for two people to walk side by side.

‘Do you think anyone at Pison is involved in this Sir?’ she asked.

‘It’s difficult to say at the moment.  Certainly the company own the property and seem to own a limousine that may have been heading toward that property on the night in question.  We have to find out if there’s anyone within the company that matches the description of our suspects; either our ‘Unknown Caller’, Dr Hanlon or Madame Evangeline.’

‘Do you think she is real? Madame Evangeline?’ Saxon asked with an excited expectation, coming alongside him as they reached the bottom of the car park and headed off in the direction of China Town.

‘I know that I don’t trust Dr Ennis.  I know that DI Bentley is a prick and from the evidence I’ve seen has done a piss poor job during the initial investigation.  Is she real?  There is certainly enough doubt in the evidence to make us have to think she is real.  Personally, I think she is, but that’s just my gut telling me that, not evidence.  Otherwise, there is no other obvious suspect.  And our ‘Unknown Caller’ was adamant that someone else was responsible for Michael’s death.’

‘Why don’t you trust Dr Ennis?  Do you think he might be involved in this?  It certainly seems very strange to me that a patient initially in his care should go missing.  Have you considered that he could be our ‘Unknown Caller’, that he could be Dr Hanlon and that it could be him that has set this all up?’ asked Saxon as they turned left into Eldon Square Gardens and headed off down towards Grey’s Monument, a large sandstone pillar in the middle of the city on top of which a Statue of Earl Grey, a former Prime Minister, stood proud.

Saul shot her an appreciative glance.  ‘Yes, it’s definitely crossed my mind.  I don’t trust him because I know he is a sadistic bully who preys on the vulnerable people in his care and hides behind the law and ‘process’ to justify the atrocious things that he has done.  Trust me, if I find even the tiniest shred of evidence that he is involved in this, I will crucify him.’  Saul answered harshly, venom in his last words.

‘That’s one thing that I am struggling with on this case Sir, people’s motives.  I know that is investigation basics.  What’s the motive?  Why did Rebecca kill her son?  Was it really just madness?  And why is our ‘Unknown Caller’ doing this?  What’s in it for him?’  They passed the steps of Greys Monument which were filled with people sitting having their lunch, listening to and watching the menagerie of buskers, jugglers and clowns all vying for the odd piece of silver.

‘How long have you been a DI?’ Saul asked inquisitively.

‘Three weeks Sir, this in my first real case.  So far I have just been shadowing DI Munro, doing lots of paperwork.’ she answered eagerly.

‘Lucky you.  Don’t, whatever you do, take much advice from him.  He is old school cynical, old school method.  It doesn’t work in the world today.  I would agree with you, the motives are elusive at the moment.  Investigation basics should also teach you to work out the ‘how’ first and nine times out of ten, that will point you to the why.  Sometimes both are blatantly obvious, but if they aren’t, always focus on the facts.  What does the evidence tell you?’ he said, smiling reassuringly at her.  They were heading down Grey Street now, leaving the main shopping streets behind and heading into a hubbub of office workers going about their business or heading out to lunch.  They passed the neoclassical façade of the Theatre Royal on their left, building height banners dropped between six tall pillars at its front, advertising the latest stage show. 

‘Right, number fifty seven, where’s number fifty seven?’  Saul asked rhetorically, looking up at the numbers above the ground floor level shops and café’s as they continued to walk.  ‘It looks like this side is even, there’s number sixty.’ he said as they walked past Iguanas, one of the cafés on the street.  ‘That would make number fifty seven just over there, beside Browns.’ he stated, walking across the road between cars, Saxon following him. 

They stopped outside the door to number fifty seven and read the labels against the intercom on the side wall.  Axiom and Pison Properties were on floor three, along with a company called ‘Equity Investments’.  A quizzical expression crossed his face as he read the name and he went silent for a few seconds, deep in thought.

‘Is everything alright Sir?’ asked Saxon, standing behind him. 

‘Pardon?’ he said distractedly, then added, ‘Yes, everything’s fine.  I just recognise the other company name, that’s all.’ he answered brusquely, as he buzzed the intercom.

‘Hello, Pison Properties, this is Janice speaking, how may I help you?’  asked a tinny female voice from the intercom.

‘Hello Janice.  I am Detective Inspector Saul from Northumbria Police.  My colleague, Detective Inspector Saxon and I would like to talk with the owner of the company if that is convenient.  Could we come up please?’

‘If you push the door Sir when you hear the buzzer and come up to the third floor.  The owner is in a meeting at the moment, but I will see if she can make time for you.’

They entered when the buzzer sounded and started up the ornate oak staircase, Saxon following Saul.  The building still retained a lot of its original features.  The high ceilinged rooms had sculpted plaster coving and ornate ceiling roses above crystal chandeliers.  Original oil portraits of different gentlemen dressed in period finery hung from picture rails up the stairway as the ascended.  Saul looked at the names on the small plaques below each as they passed them, a bemused expression crossing his face.

‘There’s a long line of Seymour’s in this company.’  Saxon commented as she took in the names too.

‘Yes, there are.’  Saul said, his tone thoughtful.

They were greeted by a slightly nervous but smiling Janice when they arrived at the third floor.  ‘Detective Inspector Saul, Detective Inspector Saxon, if you would like to follow me, I’ll take you into Mrs Seymour’s office.  I have told her that you are here and she will be with you in five minutes.’ she said, turning and walking through into the main offices.

Saul followed her silently, taking in his surroundings, eyes darting over the faces of the dozen or so people working at desks in an open plan area.  Janice led them into a large room off the main office and invited them to take a seat in some comfortable leather chairs in one corner of the office.  They both sat down. 

‘Can I get you a drink while you wait?’ asked Janice as they sat down.

Saul didn’t answer for a moment.  He was looking around the room intently and his gaze had stopped on a picture on the side wall behind the door they came in through.  Saxon looked at him perplexed for a split second, waiting for him to answer.  When he didn’t, she did. ‘Nothing for me thank you.  Sir?’ she questioned, irritation evident in her raised voice.

Saul looked back at Saxon abruptly, frustrated.  ‘Yes Saxon.’ he said.

‘Janice asked if you would like a drink Sir.’ she reiterated, calmly.

Saul looked at Saxon, bemused, then at Janice, his expression not changing.  ‘No thank you.’ he said dryly, turning back immediately towards the picture.

‘No problem.  If you do need anything, I’m just outside.’  Janice said with a strained smile towards Saxon.

As she left the room Saul stood up and approached the painting on the wall that had caught his attention.  Saxon followed him.

‘What is it Sir?’ she questioned, taking in the picture.

‘It’s a Cezanne.  It’s called ‘Nature Morte Au Crane’ or ‘Still Life With Skull’ he answered, running a finger down the canvas which showed a table with a white cloth half covering it, on top of which sat a number of apples with a skull sitting just behind them.  ‘It’s an original.  The third Cezanne original I have seen today.  Why here, why the hell is it here?’ he posed, shaking his head as he stared at the painting, chewing his bottom lip with a visible frustration.

‘Saxon, could you go to the desk please, tell me if there are any photographs on it?’

‘Sir?’ she questioned, perplexed.

‘It’s not hard Saxon.’ he raised his voice abruptly. ‘Go to the desk and tell me if there are any photographs on it!’ he repeated, louder, turning and glaring at her.

‘Okay Sir, I’ll go and look.’ she answered nervously.  She walked behind the desk and saw three photographs on its surface.  The first was of an older man who had a striking resemblance to the portraits hung on the stairway.  The second was of a dog, a Border collie leaping into the air and catching a ball.  The third.  She looked at the photograph.  She looked up at Saul.  She looked back at the photograph, astonishment overtaking every sinew in her face.

‘It’s you Sir.  There is a photograph of you on the desk.’ she said, in shock.

‘Fuck.’  Saul said, running his hands through his already bedraggled hair and grabbing it hard.  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ he hissed. ‘Some motherfucker is playing with me.’

‘Sorry Sir, I don’t understand.  Why is there a photograph of you here?’ asked Saxon, confusion evident in the question.

‘Because the person who works from that desk is a friend of mine, a good friend of mine.’ he answered curtly, while pacing back and forth in the few metres between the painting and the sofas, deep in furious contemplation.

‘Surely if you know this person Sir, you would know that they would be working here?’  Saxon said, bemusedly.

‘I knew she worked for a company called ‘Equity Investments’, I knew it was on Grey Street.  What I didn’t know was the specific building, or that there were other companies in the group.  Now that I do know those things, it opens up a whole other level of complexity.  I can’t interview her.  I know her.  It compromises her, it compromises me and it compromises the case.’ he spat harshly, still pacing back and forth.

‘Sir, I’m still confused.  Okay, so you didn’t know she worked here, but how can knowing her compromise the investigation?’ Saxon asked.

Saul stopped pacing and put his head in his hands, rubbing them over his face rapidly for a few seconds, before breathing out heavily as he stopped the frantic action and slowly drew the tips of his fingers down from his forehead to his chin, sinking the nails in slightly on the descent.

The door opened and a tall, slim woman wearing a black shift dress, black suede high heels shoes and a simple set of pearls around her neck, entered.  She had a short blonde bob, perfectly straight, cut around her elfin ears which were pierced three times each side, simple pearl studs in each piercing.  She wore very little make up, save for some eyeliner under her striking green eyes, and a rich cherry gloss lipstick.  Her face exuded a natural radiance with a slight blush in the cheek.  There was also a slight furrow in her otherwise smooth brow as she looked inquisitively at Saul, then over to Saxon.

‘John?’ said Jessica Seymour, walking up to him and placing a friendly kiss on his cheek.  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked as he received the affection stoically, stepping back from her slightly.

‘I’m sorry Jess.  We are here investigating a potential murder.  The case I told you about earlier.’ he said curtly, taking a slight step further back.  Saxon gave a quizzical look on hearing Saul’s last comment, but said nothing.

‘John, what has that got to do with me and why are you being so abrupt?  Surely if you have some questions, you can just ask them?’  Jessica said, perplexed, crossing arms in front of herself and taking a step back from Saul.