FIFTY-NINE

4.30 A.M.

‘Nope, don’t believe it,’ Bryant said, shaking his head.

Kim had to admit she was also dubious.

‘Got anywhere better to be at four thirty in the morning?’

‘Don’t tempt me to answer that one. Seriously, though, are you telling me that between them, Penn and Stacey have actually been able to pinpoint the property where Hiccup is being held?’

‘Apparently Frost had a hand in it as well,’ Kim said.

‘That doesn’t add to my confidence,’ he muttered as she turned into a narrow lane off the main A449.

Kim was happy to talk about anything except what had been in that box.

There had been no Dictaphone and no video tape, but Kim hadn’t needed them to get the picture of the further torture that Hiccup had endured.

She had unfolded a piece of cloth to reveal a slice of skin measuring approximately two inches by three inches showing a tattoo of a bird. Penn had made a quick call to Jack the custody sergeant to confirm that Hiccup did indeed have a tattoo of a bird on his left arm. Their guy wanted to be sure they knew the identify of his victim, and short of sending his name, he’d given them all the tools to find out.

The thought of tools reminded her of the way the skin had been removed from the poor man’s body. The serration marks all around it indicated it had been crudely removed with an electric carving knife. She suspected that Mitch would confirm their suspicion later in the day.

She couldn’t even imagine Hiccup’s fear seeing their sicko approaching with such a tool. The man had wanted nothing more than a warm meal and a bed for the night.

She pulled her thoughts away from him as the lane they were travelling turned into a dirt track with a high line of grass running along the centre.

Kim held on to the roof handle and braced herself for the potholes illuminated by Bryant’s high beam.

The hedges on both sides of the road were overgrown and brushing the car.

By the time they reached the property, Kim was aware that there had been no turn-off. This was the only property on the lane, and their sicko would have met no one as he came and went.

The high beam rested on the property, which looked tired and worn. The once-white paint was almost a dirty grey and peeling in several places. A wooden arch above the door was in a state of disrepair, and plant pots that had once been full of flowers held only weeds and moss.

They got out of the car and used their torches to continue looking.

‘Not sure what Phil and Kirstie would have to say about the kerb appeal of this one,’ Bryant quipped.

Looking around, she had to agree. Piles of bin bags were stacked against the wall. The small lawn was overgrown, and weeds had invaded every foot of ground she could see. The council bins had been stuffed with so much rubbish their lids were open.

The people selling the property had obviously decided that no amount of tidying up was going to get them a better price, so they’d done nothing to it since the demise of the occupant, meaning that this neglected property got barely any visitors at all.

‘Even in the dark, I know what you’re thinking. It’s still a bloody long shot, but I’ll go round back anyway.’

He was right, she admitted, before trying the front door. It was locked, and a fraction of her hope that they were in the right place diminished.

She headed over to a long outbuilding that might once have been a stable, but the doors had all been replaced with heavy, full-length wooden doors with latch openings. Converted for storage, Kim thought, opening the first of five doors.

This one was full of old machinery, rusted and broken lawnmowers and strimmers.

She opened the second, which was full of old bags of grain and seed that must have been for chickens.

The third was stacked high with old furniture the previous owners must have replaced over the years but never disposed of. She heard the unmistakeable sound of scurrying, prompting her to close the door quickly just as Bryant reappeared from around the back of the house.

‘Bloody death trap back there. I’ve seen tidier scrapyards,’ he moaned. ‘No doors or windows open that I can see.’

‘Okay, stop whingeing and open door number five.’

They opened the last two doors at the same time.

She didn’t even have time to assess what was behind her own door before Bryant spoke.

‘Err… guv.’

Those words alone were enough to chill her blood.

She moved to stand beside him and followed his torchlight into the space.

She took out her phone. It was time to make herself popular again.