Death in the Black Wood, Oliver Davies [short story to read TXT] 📗

he was accomplishing. Maybe a religious delusion, to stop demons escaping the dying bodies or something. The fact that it was done when they were very close to death made him think so anyway.”

“So the killer thought both Dominic Chuol and Chris Arnold were possessed by some evil entity? And that’s why they were chosen?”

“It’s just a theory. If so, Shay also said that our suspect probably believes he’s doing vital or holy work by saving the rest of us from them. The viciousness of last night’s attack on an agent of the forces trying to stop him certainly backs that theory up. He thinks our guy is strictly heterosexual too, that he picked a female officer because he had no interest in sexually assaulting a man, not because he thought she’d be an easier target.”

No, everyone was an easy target if they were hit by a taser.

“Shay thinks the killer has a very low opinion of our intelligence. Those messages carved into the first two victims weren’t meant for us, they were part of whatever the crazy bastard thinks he’s doing. This one definitely was for us, as was the phone threat.”

I had to agree. ‘You Tried To Fuck Me First!’ was not a hard message to interpret, and nor was ‘Show that face again and I’ll kill another of you.’ Conall drove in silence for a couple of minutes before speaking again.

“What you heard back there, before he left? Shay asked us to wait before releasing that sketch to the media. He thought it would be better to just get it out to consumer outlets and circulate it internally before doing that. He was worried it might provoke a reaction, and he was right.”

I’d already figured most of that from their conversation.

“It sounded to me like he also believed there was an argument for doing so too. It’s easy enough to say now that it would have been better not to, but what if it had turned out differently and someone had called in on Thursday night and led us straight to him?”

I meant it as I said it but I was really glad that it hadn’t been my decision to make. One thing seemed almost certain. Jackie would not have been attacked and killed like that last night if her killer hadn’t seen that composite on the evening news.

Twenty-Three

McKinnon’s meeting was brief and to the point. We were no longer dealing with what we’d already known was a psychotic murderer picking seemingly random victims. The man who had killed Detective Sergeant Jackie Gibson last night was now also targeting the people who were hunting for him. That he was also suffering from some form and degree of psychopathy was no longer in any doubt whatsoever.

This being the case, extra security precautions needed to be taken. Nobody travelled anywhere alone. Nobody slept alone. He’d expect to receive email confirmation of everyone’s chosen arrangements within the next few hours.

Only the staff who’d been working on the ‘Black Wood’ and ‘Arnold’ cases were in that room that Saturday morning, but McKinnon wasn’t taking any chances. Every officer working under him had been sent the same instructions. As for those of us who were involved in those investigations, an updated profile of our killer would be sent to us within the hour.

Anyone who felt unable or unfit to keep working on this operation as a consequence of the savagely violent, utterly despicable murder of Detective Sergeant Jackie Gibson last night should see him privately. At this time, he had no intention of insisting on any involuntary recusals but did expect those most personally affected by her death to book counselling appointments as soon as possible. Failure to do so would result in reassignment to other cases.

I didn’t hang around to offer James any comfortless words of consolation after he’d dismissed us. McKinnon was a professional of the highest calibre. He’d assessed the possible benefits and the dangers of airing that picture and found the balance to be heavily weighted in favour of doing so. Our job was to protect the general public as best we could, whatever the risk to ourselves. We’d had no way of knowing that our killer would respond so quickly, or with such brazen, uncharacteristic incautiousness. It just didn’t match the profile we’d already built of him.

Back at Old Perth Road, I gathered my shaken team in the break room so we could all sit down and discuss the new situation. Caitlin had pulled herself together very quickly once the initial shock of the news of Jackie’s death had passed earlier. It hadn’t been easy for me to walk out of that bedroom and tell her what had been done to her friend, but it had been much harder for her to hear it. Grieving or not, all I could see in her face now was determination and burning rage.

None of them wanted to come and stay in Dores. I wasn’t surprised. Why would anyone want to spend their off-duty hours in the boss’s house? How could they possibly relax? I got that, I really did, but I can’t pretend that I was happy about it. Bryce would stay with Collins and his girlfriend. Darren would bunk in with Caitlin and Walker at Caitlin’s house. Good enough.

“What about you, Sir?” Mills asked once that was settled. “You shouldn’t be alone either.”

“My place is fully secured, and I won’t be alone. My cousin’s there. Believe me, that house is probably the safest place in Inverness for anyone to be.” My tone did not invite any further comment on the subject.

None of them said anything about it being a day off. That didn’t surprise me either. I’d have to find something to keep them all usefully occupied, but we were running low on things to chase up on again by then. Eric McAndrew hadn’t called in yet, and I didn’t like that at all. Maybe he’d slept elsewhere last night, but I wanted him checked on. If the