Ghost Detectives Bk 02 Virus 09 11

Chapter Nine

"You say we had it wrong with Russel Mackintosh so our reticence in killing him was correct?" said John while finishing his breakfast with James and Carolyn.

"Not totally, he's a paedophile, a low life, but he's not the serial rapist and murderer we once thought, but with the information, we'll pass to the authorities he'll be off the streets for a long while so we can forget about him."

"I'll forward the other warnings later this afternoon. The Tenerife situation will pose a problem if we don't do something about it."

"It was breaking news as I left. A few sites are contaminated and they are isolating those areas of the island and stopping travel completely. From what I've read and seen I don't think it's random or accidental."

"You need to go back there in a few days and see what further information is available."

Carolyn, who had listened up to now, pulled a face. "Hold on, we know enough, can't see why James needs to go back so soon."

"James, you believe this is an attack?"

"Seems that way but I can't be sure."

"Ebola," said Carolyn, "a deliberate attack, I can't see it. I know it is virulent but the window of infection doesn't start until after the symptoms are showing. Most of our modelling has been based upon an attack using gas or similar airborne poisons and based on mainland Europe. We have profiled a viral attack with the protocols that would have to be in place. Tenerife is still a small island, why there, why Ebola? It cannot be spread through the air."

"It can sis, I've been researching the virus. It can stay in water droplets in the atmosphere but the research is hazy. If a contaminated person or animal sneezes, the virus can stay airborne for a short time."

"I'll go back in a few days and see what's happening. In the meantime, there'll be another murder next week but the body was dumped; we don't know the actual location of where it happened so we can't stop it. The only thing we can do is to catch him dumping the body. If we can, we also stop the other murder a few weeks later. I think we should focus on that and put Tenerife on the back burner."

John's eyes narrowed. "Wait, if we hadn't intervened with the two girls at their house when Russell was with them, and we know he's not the murder, whoever committed the murder must have known we were there and was spooked."

James thought for a moment. "From what we saw, Russell intended to rape the girl and stay for the night."

"Anyone fancy more coffee? That is pure speculation."

"Not so sis, broaden your thinking. The murderer in the other dimension must have seen three people enter the house; when Russell and his girlfriend left, he knew the girl who lived there was alone. That tells me the murderer must live locally and knows the family. In our dimension, he would have seen us entering the house and backed away and that's what saved the girl's life."

"We are looking at one of the neighbours, must be, unless someone else followed them from the club but I can't see that being the case. We never saw anyone. Everyone in the street was asleep. We must have been watched from one of the houses or by someone hiding nearby but that seems unprovable but it's the best fit we have at present."

"I'll search the names of the residents." By lunchtime, she had all the names and started to sift their backgrounds but nothing obvious came to light.

Most of the rapes and murders happened in the evening and that gave John an idea. He would install several miniature cameras at each end of the street and should anyone ask, he'd say the cameras were to count throughput of traffic to see if the area needed traffic calming measures. That way, he could see the times of day when residents left and returned to their home. Not a foolproof measure but it may give them some direction of where to look so they'd be able to stop the murder instead of waiting where the body would be dumped after the deed.

The afternoon saw John and James donning overalls and hard hats with all the normal paraphernalia associated with workmen. They installed eight cameras linking them to their laptops having real-time footage as well as twenty-four hour recorded surveillance.

The same evening at dinner, Carolyn stated she had spoken with her different teams and with Don her boss. They'd discussed the various models they'd computer analysed and envisaged through dialogue and group team study, together with live exercises they'd enacted in location to test their response time and operational procedures and strength of their protocols.

"Any data linking Tenerife?"

"Nothing John, the prognosis is gas and poison and the target is to be France and the UK. There is no need for you to go back, love," she grinned at him.

"I still think he should go and spend a day there."

She frowned at him. "Stop it! You know I'm not happy about him going back."

"Hello, I'm still here. Love, please give it a rest, I need to go back. Whatever is going to happen, the sooner we know what it is, the sooner we can do something about it. This is not just about us; we are holding thousands if not millions of lives in our hands and we need to do everything in our power to stop it."

Carolyn sheepishly looked at the floor and was on the verge of tears but held them back. She loved these two people and when danger reared its head against them, her heart thumped and her body shook with fright. She held little fear for herself but for these two men and for her children, she would give her own life without hesitation. "I love you guys, take no notice of my rattling, look upon it as a woman's privilege. Of course, you must go back, James." She stood, kissed them both and left the room."

"She's on edge. She hates me going, afraid that there'll be a time when I won't be able to return and she'll never see me again."

John gave him a sharp look. "She has a point. What if the pathway closes?"

"Do you know something I don't?"

"An astronomer friend who has made a lifelong study of dimensions believes there are numerous gateways that vibrate at different frequencies occupying the same space in motion and in time, and each one has its corresponding mirror dimension. There can be any number occupying the same space and if the same vibrational frequency between two objects are in line, one object can pass seamlessly from one to the other and back."

James gave a strained laugh. "I never looked upon myself as an object before."

"We are all objects made up of billions of atoms and everything we see, or are too small to see at the molecule level, vibrate. Carolyn has a right to be worried. If the doorway changes, closes, moves, or you or the gateway vibrate at a difference frequency, the way back could be closed to you. I wouldn't decry her worry. She's read up on it and what I tell you she already knows."

"She's said nothing to me about it."

"Why fill you with more of her concerns and insecurities. She has spoken her worries to me. When you are gone, her mind is in constant flux so you need to sit and openly discuss these dangers with her and not shrug them off as unimportant. The dangers are serious and should be treated as such."

"Hold on, John, you encouraged me to go back for more information. I wasn't aware of these dangers myself until you told me."

"Carolyn knowns. To go back there is not something I like telling you to do. I believe what is coming is a Third World War and from what you have said Tenerife is the start of it."

"How can an Ebola outbreak start a war?"

"We've discussed it a few times. The next arena of war will be fought by germ warfare. How they go about it I don't know, at least by you going back, we'll have an advanced warning."

Both sat in quiet contemplation locked in their own thoughts. James rose, filled two glasses with whiskey and handed one to John and they walked into the library. After we've sorted out the rape and murder, I'll go back to see what has happened in Tenerife. I'll talk with Carolyn tonight and apologise for treating her concerns so lightly."

"Just to let you know I have paid a colleague to keep constant vigilance on the video feed and he'll let us know when he finds anything interesting rather than us having to spend time going through it."

Four days later, John called them into the library and informed them the video feed had tagged a man who worked as a manager for a large supermarket leaving his house at strange hours. After he was first flagged, an investigator followed him and he did go to work that evening but left at midnight, parked near a nightclub for a time, spoke to no one and drove home. The second day he spent an hour at a brothel turning up later at the supermarket. They'd talked with the woman, and after a bribe, she told them she'd been with him a few times and he liked it when she struggled, bit and kicked, paying extra for her to pretend she was being raped. The stronger she resisted the greater her tip. He had asked her to meet him after work but she had always refused, and once he was outside at four in the morning offering to give her a lift, but her regular taxi was waiting and she jumped into it thinking him dominant and arrogant and a perverted creep. "He tips well, one of the best," she said but felt a little scared when with him but was safe from harm in the relative security of the brothel, but wouldn't trust him outside.

The third night at ten he drove to a known red-light area, picked up one of the street prostitutes, drove to a secluded picnic area, parked and spent thirty minutes having sex with the woman before driving her back. The woman didn't look afraid and took up her position back on the street. He drove away but instead of going home parked outside a late-night cinema. Two women came out of the main door and stood to wait; soon one of them was picked up leaving the other one alone. He drove up and parked next to her and started talking. She continually shook her head. He stayed for another five minutes and drove off parking just out of sight and extinguished his lights. A little later a car arrived and the woman got in it so he drove home. Making enquiries into the person's background proved fruitless other than his name, Daniel Davidson and he lived with his wife and two children; still, his behaviour was far from normal and he seemed to get a kick out of humiliating women but as for murder only time would bring that into the open.

The murder would happen the following evening, if they had identified the right man, they could stop it from happening; if wrong, they'd be too late to stop the killing.

"This is it."

"We need to be in place to follow him."

John gave a knowing grin. "I've placed a tracking device on his car."

James' eyes widened. "When did you do that?"

"Last night, I called back just after three and attached it to the underside of the boot. When he moves, we move."

Daniel Davidson arrived home from work at four in the afternoon and left his house at eight that evening and drove to work, spending an hour and a half walking around the store then talking with departmental managers in his office. He left the supermarket around ten, spending the next hour at a local pub then drove to a nightclub and parked out of sight in an alleyway near to where the refuse bins were sited.

John and James parked on the road and walked past the alleyway spotting the car wedged in front of the waste bins, not actually hidden, but well out of sight of passing eyes. At the back of the nightclub, a designated space had been roped off as a smoking area with two tables where four girls sat smoking and talking amongst themselves. The nightclub itself was a known haunt where prostitutes hung out and because of the blaring music inside the pairings normally happened in the smoking area.

He could hardly start anything in the alleyway so James and John returned to their car and waited. Davidson remained in his car waiting for his opportunity. He had to wait for some time, but eventually, an opportunity presented itself. A girl, around twenty-five, sat alone at one of the tables smoking; quickly he made his move, walked over to her and sat opposite. They talked for a few minutes, money changed hands, she extinguished her cigarette and they both walked back to his car.

As the car moved out of the alleyway, they followed keeping back to not make it obvious they were following. They were soon on the outskirts of town the opposite end to where the body was found. Davidson parked up next to an abandoned factory awaiting demolition. John stopped and hid their car behind a few trees; he and James walked toward the car staying out of sight. This wouldn't be rape but he almost certainly would have sex with her wearing a condom. When the body had been found she was naked and her clothes missing, so he must have taken them and dumped or burnt them. It felt weird. It was seeing what he had read being played out upon a stage but at the curtain call, one of the actors would not be around to take a final bow in the game of stop the death.

The time for them to come on to the stage had arrived. They walked over to the car and looked inside. The girl was screaming, trying to push him off her as he violently slapped her around. John opened the door and dragged him out of the car giving him a solid punch to the body and threw him to the floor. The girl, clothes ripped, face red and bruised, sat up in the car, looked at John and sobbed.

He reached out his hand and she took hold of it. "Come, you're safe now, let me take your home. This guy was out to kill you."

"Thank you, I felt so afraid, he suddenly turned into a wild animal," she sobbed.

James stood outside watching over the man still lying motionless on the floor. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Kill the bastard. Cut his balls off with a blunt fucking knife," she screamed regaining her confidence whilst landing weak kicks to his back while shouting obscenities. She would have carried on her vociferous tirade if John hadn't pulled her away. She was not what the police would consider a reliable witness.

They now had another problem. The murder foiled, culprit identified, what were they going to do with him? There was no doubt they had the right person. If they handed him over to the authorities, he'd be back on the street the following day. What had happened here a good lawyer would trash in a matter of hours. Without further proof linking him to the other murders, it would be the word of a prostitute, who willingly left with him to have sex in his car, against his word saying she wanted sex a little rough. The police would also question them, a risk they couldn't allow; they had no believable excuse for being there, which could end up seeing them under interrogation. The hinge that could disturb the hornet's nest exposing them to the world.

It happened so quickly no one saw it coming. Davidson jumped up from the ground, knife in hand, lunged at John catching him in the stomach and ran off. James started to give chase but seeing John collapse to the floor holding his stomach, ran back.

The girl looked on showing little concern. "I'm out of here, if the police catch me, I'm back inside, I'm on parole."

James' spat back at her. "We've just saved your life and you're worried about what the police will say."

"Whatever! I'm out of here," she screamed unconcerned. "I didn't ask you to help me," and briskly walked away leaving James holding John.

"Phone Carolyn."

"She's too far away. I'm phoning for an ambulance."

"James, no, we'll be giving away all we've worked so hard to keep secret. Carolyn can sort me out." his voice grew weaker.

"Your life against being exposed, I'll accept."

"Get the car, it's only a few yards away and take me home. Carolyn will know what to do. James, if anything happens to me my will leaves everything to you and the children."

"Nothing is going to..."

"Get the car!"

James was in a quandary. The stakes were high. He ran to the car, drove it to where John lay, bundled him into the back seat, after binding his wound with part of his shirt to stem the bleeding and sped away, phoning Carolyn on route. She grabbed her medical bag and was on the road speeding toward them catching them before they'd got to the hospital. Leaving her car, she jumped into the back with John and give him an injection, phoning ahead to the hospital explaining the situation. John was unconscious when the hospital took over his care rushing him into casualty.

"How serious is it?"

She stared at him, her face a blank sheet of worry. "A stupid question," she hissed, "he's lost a lot of blood, as for internal damage," she stopped to gain her breath, "it's bad, James, really bad," tears in her eyes. "Hold me, James. Have you phoned the police?"

"He was adamant we don't."

"The hospital will when they see it's a knife wound. How did it happen."

James quickly explained. "I'll say we were out having a drink and a stranger run up to us, stabbed John and ran away and I rushed him to hospital phoning you on the way."

"If he dies, I don't know... God James, what do I tell mam?"

"Shall I phone her?"

She looked at him tears streaming down her face. "That prostitute just walked away! You should have let him kill her."

James was out of words and held her. "I'll phone your mother."

After waiting an hour, one of the doctors came forward and showed them into his office asking them to take a seat. "We're operating on him as I speak," he said, and asked them what had happened. James explained and how he phoned his wife as she was a doctor."

He looked at her and weakly smiled. "I knew someone had medical experience. What you did, saved his life. The injection you administered relaxed his body and stopped him moving into major trauma; you stemmed the wound. I could see you've done this before."

The anguish and concern in both their faces showed. Looking at the doctor, she asked. "Level with me, what are his chances?"

"Not good, he's critical, but you already know that yourself."

She nodded, as if to say, I know. "Have the police been phoned?"

"I wanted to speak with you first. I'll phone them after we finish here. He'll be out for the next few days and the police won't be here until the morning irrespective of what happens over the next few hours. Go home, you both need a change of clothes and a clean-up. Come back later. If anything happens, I'll phone immediately."

"We should stay," said James.

"Up to you but..."

"James, he's right," looking at his name tag, "doctor Anderson, thank you. We'll leave you our numbers and we'll be back early in the morning if nothing changes." They stood and were soon in the car, picking up her car then headed home. After showering they lay on the bed locked in each other arms. They drifted off to sleep for a little while but it was a fitful, troubled sleep and were soon on their way to the hospital. At least they had the satisfaction of knowing nothing had changed and that little bit of light gave them hope. Asking for doctor Anderson they were told he was off shift and they asked if they could see John. Other than tubes and drips there was nothing else to see or say, John was totally out to the world. They took a seat, one each side of him both lightly touching one of his arms.

"I'm sorry," James whispered, his eyes filling with tears. "I should have been more aware of the danger. I will get him, John, he won't get away with it." He wiped his tear-filled eyes clearing them of their fog. His pupils turned into anger and revenge as his body stiffened with determination.

Carolyn looked at him, eyes wide. "Revenge is for later, James. Don't let this moment fill you with hate, we need to be soft for John."

He looked deeply into the eyes of his tear-stained wife and gently smiled, relaxing his body, knowing what she said was right. "John will make it, he must."