DEAD GONE (27 page)

‘It’s not charity,’ Dan replied haughtily. ‘It’s a man helping his friend when he’s in trouble. Recognise that.’

‘I don’t even know if I could pay you back any time soon …’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Dan interrupted. ‘It’s not as if I’d miss it.’

‘I don’t know Dan. I’m not used to this type of thing.’

‘I understand Rob,’ Dan said, leaning back in his chair. ‘So take advantage. You wouldn’t allow me to intervene with the house or car. Allow me to help with this.’

Rob thought on it. He was worried about screwing everything up, allowing someone to start poking their nose in. But if he turned down the help, it looked odd, as if he wasn’t determined to find her.

‘I’ll think about it. Give me a day,’ Rob said, finally. Not saying yes, not saying no. Safest bet at that moment.

‘Very good,’ Dan replied, turning as the food was brought to the table by the barmaid. ‘And excellent timing, my lovely.’

Dan studied him as Rob accepted the plate, causing Rob to avert his gaze, knowing there were further questions Dan wanted to ask. He stayed silent, and internally breathed a sigh of relief as Dan started eating.

He didn’t think he would have held out much longer before spilling everything, hoping for an easy answer. Truth was, Rob knew there was no easy answers. He just had to wait.

Murphy sipped his dank tasting coffee, as they waited for Garner to talk further. The warmth from the cup was helping to override the cold feeling he’d had since the professor had begun speaking.

‘These experiments all have one thing in common … ethics. Or rather, a possible lack of them.’ Garner continued once he’d taken a sip of his drink.

‘Ethics? He’s killing people, there’s no possible about it,’ Murphy said, placing his cup down on the table.

‘You misunderstand me, detective,’ Garner replied, turning his gaze back to him. ‘I’m talking solely about the experiments he is supposedly replicating. They are an almost Psych 101 entry into ethics in psychology.’

‘How so?’ Rossi said from the right of Murphy, her drink forgotten as she sat poised with her pen.

‘Well, let’s take it from the beginning with MK Ultra, in particular, the specific experiment he talks about doing, Operation Midnight Climax, using LSD on the poor girl before killing her. One of the most important aspects of ethical treatment of participants is not to do anything which may harm them, unless of course the benefit is outweighed by the cost. That they consent to being involved in any research, and have the opportunity to withdraw at any time.’

‘And the people involved in that research were not aware they were being experimented on, were they?’ Murphy said.

‘That’s correct,’ Garner replied. ‘Which means they didn’t consent to it. Something which categorises most experiments talked about when discussing unethical research. Similarly, the Unit 731 experiments were carried out on prisoners. However, without knowing which experiment in particular he was planning to carry out on your second victim, it’s difficult to say for certain what ethics were involved.

‘The third experiment, the unfortunate man left near the Albert Dock, isn’t what I’d call an unethical experiment. It’s more a theory than an experiment. I guess you could say he was revealing more about society’s lack of ethical responsibility with that one. That’s a hypothesis however. The letter begins with a whole monologue about grief. The experiment, such as it is, is secondary.’

‘You think he’s not interested in psychology experiments anymore?’ Murphy said, feeling a dark cloud form above them, as he began to understand where the conversation was leading towards.

‘No. I think it started that way, but now it’s just about one thing … death. The experiments are all about death, he’s fascinated by it. This is his way of investigating it further.’

‘Do you think he’s killed more, outside of those we know about?’

‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he has. But I think they were for him alone. They didn’t form part of the controlled actions he’s presented to you.’

‘So, there could be more. Jesus …’ Murphy swept a hand over his face as the worries he’d had over the past few days were voiced by someone else.

‘He’s not been scared to reveal victims so far though, why wouldn’t he announce others?’ Rossi said.

‘It goes back to control.’

Murphy swore under his breath. ‘Sorry, professor. If he has killed others we don’t know about, they would be prior to these three. Why is he announcing
these
victims?’

‘He isn’t finished, perhaps?’ Garner replied, taking a sip of his coffee. ‘He talks about a grand gesture in the third letter, which suggests he’s been working on something from the beginning. Which would lend weight to it being another experiment. I mean, you haven’t been made aware of experiments one and two at the moment. He’s only allowing you to see what he wants you to.’

There was a knock at the door, their three heads swivelling as it opened. The spiky haired man Murphy had spied as they passed his office in the corridor stepped into the room apologetically. ‘Sorry to interrupt, professor,’ the man said. ‘Dan said you were in here. Just wanted to remind you of the seminar you have at two o’clock.’

‘Ah, yes. Thank you, Tom. Detectives, this is Tom, one of the senior lecturers at the university. He’s doing some incredible research at the moment, as I said earlier. Very interesting.’

Murphy looked over. ‘We won’t keep him much longer, Tom,’ Murphy said.

‘Not to worry,’ Tom replied. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

He left the room, Garner turning back around to face Murphy and Rossi. ‘Sorry about that, he’s an eager one him, very intelligent though. He’ll go very far.’

‘Where were we?’ Murphy asked, hoping to get back on course.

‘I believe I was trying to guess at his actions now. And that’s important, this is all guesswork.’

‘I think you’re underestimating yourself, professor,’ Rossi said, smiling. ‘You’re giving us much more information than we’ve had previously.’

Murphy caught Rossi’s eye, hoping to tell her to shut up. He didn’t enjoy hearing how little they knew about so many murders occurring under his watch.

‘I doubt that,’ Garner replied, Murphy aware of his watchful eyes. ‘I imagine I’m only giving you information you already know, or what you will have guessed. I think there
is
something I can give you, however.’

‘What’s that?’ Murphy said.

‘What I think he’s doing now, what he is leading you towards.’

Murphy felt his mood darken as the professor leant forward. ‘Go on,’ Murphy said.

‘I believe there is an experiment he has been carrying out from the beginning. It’ll have more in common with his original aims. Yet, it will be much bigger, much more hard hitting. What it is in particular, I couldn’t say. Everything I’ve read here though suggests he won’t stop until he’s ready to unveil what it is. So I wish you luck, detectives.’ Garner held Murphy’s stare. ‘And you, Detective Murphy. Take care of yourself. I have a feeling you’re a part of this now. I hope you don’t also become a target.’

‘He has a point, Bear. You’re involved in this now, you have to face up to that.’

Murphy was sitting on his sofa at home, the remnants of a Chinese takeaway congealing on the coffee table in front of him. Jess was standing at the back door, shouting through to him from the kitchen as she smoked. Murphy began picking up the cartons, placing them back in the carrier bag they’d been delivered in. ‘I don’t have to face anything, Jess. Of course I’m involved in it – I’m the one trying to catch the bastard.’

‘Yeah, but he’s made this much more personal than you’re used to. You have to think about what that means,’ Jess continued, turning as Murphy entered the kitchen.

Murphy’s face darkened as he remembered what the letter said. Being reminded about his parents’ murder wasn’t something he relished, especially from someone who was currently the city’s most wanted. ‘I’m okay about it. Really. I’m enjoying being back in the driving seat, honest. And Laura is coming on leaps and bounds,’ Murphy replied, trying on a smile, before deciding it didn’t lighten the situation.

‘That’s good and all, but it doesn’t change the fact this nutter has zeroed in on you.’

‘I know that, Jess,’ Murphy said, jamming the bag of rubbish in the bin. ‘But I’m not going to let him get to me.’

‘You mean he hasn’t already?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Murphy replied, his voice rising slightly. ‘I’m not doing anything differently than I have before.’

‘I know you, Bear,’ Jess said, squatting down to stub her cigarette out on the back step, before turning around and closing the back door behind her. ‘You’re not the same. Which, as I’ve said continually, is not exactly fucking surprising.’

‘I need this, Jess. I need to be sitting across from this bastard in an interview room, explaining how he’ll be spending the rest of his pitiful little life in a cell.’

‘I get that. I do. But what if that’s not how it plays out? What if he tops himself first, or you don’t find him. What then?’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ Murphy said, turning away from her and walking into the living room. He heard Jess running the tap in the sink, filling a glass.

‘What does Laura think?’ Jess said, entering the room holding the glass of water. Murphy sat on the sofa, waiting for her to return to the chair closest to the radiator – her favoured position when she visited. She was always cold, he thought. He’d never seen her wear anything with sleeves outside of work however. He’d bought her a jumper for Christmas a couple of years back, and she’d asked if he kept the receipt. False economy he thought.

‘She thinks our best bet is to release more details to the press. I’m not in agreement on that though. The last thing we need to do is have them more on our backs than they already are.’

‘You’re not exactly getting anywhere fast at the moment though are you?’

‘No,’ Murphy said with a sigh. ‘But we’re not exactly overcome with options here. This guy is so careful, he keeps these people for days, so we have no idea how the circumstances of them being taken happens. We have nothing to go on evidence wise, forensics have turned up nothing. We’re up shit creek without a fucking boat, never mind a paddle. So we do leg work. We interview more people, we do more media asking for people to come forward. And end up with nothing in return, most probably.’

Murphy sat back, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, his headache starting to get worse. ‘Worst of all, I’ve got to deal with Sarah suddenly calling me at work, calling my friends.’ Murphy said, gesturing towards Jess. ‘It’s the last thing I need.’

Jess stood, joining Murphy on the sofa. He turned to look at her.

‘She has things to say. Yeah, it might not be the best time, but maybe you should listen to her.’

‘Why should I, Jess?’

‘Because it wasn’t her fault,’ Jess replied, her hand draped on one of his shoulders.

‘If we hadn’t …’

‘Like that mattered,’ Jess interrupted. ‘You did, that’s all there is to it. Yes it turned into a fucked-up situation, but that wasn’t her fault. More importantly, it wasn’t your fault.’

‘I know.’

‘You don’t, not yet. But you will. I just worry that’s all.’ Jess sighed, ‘How long have we known each other?’

‘Whenever I ask you that, all you say is too fucking long,’ Murphy said, finding it easier to smile at that. ‘Almost twenty years, that’s how long.’

Jess smiled back at him. ‘Jesus, we’re getting old. Well, you are anyway.’

‘Piss off.’

‘Love you too.’ Jess said, standing up. ‘I best be getting off. Peter will be wondering where I am.’

‘Of course.’ Murphy replied, standing up to show her out.

As Jess got to the door, she turned and hugged Murphy, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. ‘Take care of yourself, Bear. Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t like many people, but you’re all right,’ she said.

‘I will and I won’t,’ Murphy said, patting her on the back. He watched her drive off, shutting the door behind him after she’d pulled out of the cul de sac. Cold air had entered the house, causing him to shiver as he walked back in. He locked the front door, the outside world now shut firmly behind him. He went back into the living room, pulling out the photo album he kept at the side of the couch, out of sight.

Leafed through the pages. The happiest day of his life.

The day he married Sarah. He picked up his phone, scrolled through to her number, then hesitated.

His finger hovered over the call button for a few seconds, before he threw the phone to one side.

Not tonight.

They’d left the pub in silence. Rob’s mind elsewhere, his heart racing, as the appearance of the detectives who’d questioned him that weekend, just walking past the pub, causing instant panic. Dark clouds formed slowly overhead, the sky blackening around him. He entered the psychology building, Dan giving him a pat on the shoulder as he walked away in the opposite direction.

He cried off work early, but with no intentions of actually going home. He pulled his coat a little tighter, putting his head down against the driving rain as he walked the ten minutes towards town and Liverpool Central train station. It was downhill all the way, the pavements busy with students of various fashion tastes. Skinny jeans and tight, revealing shirts … and that was just the lads. He waited only a few minutes for a train, a cold breeze blowing through the underground platform. It was becoming busier, the shift workers filling the space.

An hour later, with the rain pelting down, he stood outside a terraced house in a quiet street. A hanging basket of dead flowers hung outside. He rang the doorbell and stepped back, waiting for the door to open.

‘Hello, Rob,’ Jemma’s mum said as she stepped into the doorway, arms folded. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I just wanted to talk, Helen,’ Rob replied, wiping rain off his forehead. ‘Nothing else.’

Helen stared at him for a few seconds before shaking her head slightly and stepping to one side, letting him into the house.