Little Sir Hugh
London. 1981.
Alex sat in her living room, a glass of white wine in her hands. She wasn't drunk, but she wanted to be. If she were drunk, she'd be able to slip out of the consciousness of the nightmare this crazy time warp had sparked. She looked around the spacious flat above the Italian restaurant below. Never having a need, she never commented on the scent of food that permeated her bedroom or the living room, kitchen, basically the whole flat stank of pizza. In short, she had no right to complain.
It was late, it was always late. She could never really sleep sound. Not in the early morning hours, at least. Witching hour meant Molly.
"Molly." She whispered to the dark. She hadn't put the television on because Luigi had commented about the electricity bill. Jokingly, it has to be said, but a comment still remains a comment. Ask any psychologist. "Molly."
"Mum?" the air whispered back. Turning her head, Alex saw a girl there, for two seconds. Her long dirty blond hair was tied in a pony tail and she was wearing her school uniform. Why always the uniform? "Did you know? It's my birthday." The girl's voice was so quiet Alex could barely hear it. She leaned towards the apparition. The girl's face screwed up, a tear trickling down her cheek. Alex blinked and it was gone. The only feeling now was amazing guilt. She felt hot tears trickling down her own cheek.
"Be strong for me, Molly."
"My name is Alex Drake. I've just been shot and that bullet has taken me back to 1981. I may be one second away from life or one second away from life or one second away from death. All I know is that I have to keep fighting. Fight to live. Fight to see my daughter. Fight to get home."
"I have gone from one stink to another." Alex whispered to the paper on her desk. She could barely read, or even breathe for that matter, due to the heavy dinge caused the male smoking area that was her office. A mug of tea was placed under her nose. She looked up briefly to see her raven haired fellow female. "Thanks Shaz."
"Welcome Ma'am." The typist grinned and sat at her desk, pulling her forms towards her. The poor girl didn't seem to know any better.
Getting back to the forms on her desk, Alex turned off the endless hubbub of Ray's idiocy and Chris' laughter, Shaz's typing and the general bunch simply talking about anything and everything. There was only one goal and that was getting back to 2008. No matter how much she slightly preferred this more tangible world, her daughter was more important.
Suddenly the office door slammed open. Rolling her eyes, D.I. Alex Drake watched as her superior officer stormed into the room. D.C.I Gene Hunt stormed up to the white board and violently tacked a picture in the centre.
"Right!" he announced in his best boom. "Gentlemen." He turned to face the silenced rabble. "We have a case. It's nasty but we have no choice." He moved aside, revealing the photo of a head. The subject was an eight year old boy.
"Gov?" Ray looked bewildered and disgusted. A look that was catching on fast.
"Hugh Knight. Went missing exactly a week ago. Lived with his parents down by the pier."
"He looks drowned." Alex moved forward to the assembled crowd slowly, not taking her eyes off the picture.
"Well done D.I. Drake."
"So some kid fell into the river?" Chris looked around. "How's that a case? Someone pushed him?"
"A game gone wrong, perhaps." Alex conceded the point.
"Pretty stupid game." Hunt turned and placked another photo on the board. The body shot. "Were he not stabbed up like that." The disgust on Ray's face turned to horror.
In the morgue, the pathologist went over the murderers M.O.
"It seems like a poignant attack." He began. "Three slashes to the stomach" He indicated each. "Removing liver, stomach and intestines. One slash to the chest, removing the lungs."
"Embalmment?"
"Very good, D.I. Drake." The pathologist smiled. It was always gratifying to find someone else who understood your work.
"What are these symbols cut into the flesh?" She pointed at the cuts in the flesh that were intrinsically cut. Into shapes.
"We can assume replacements for the sacred artefacts the Egyptians buried their dead with."
"So he's a sick bastard who fancies himself an Egyptian twat?"
"Be blunt, Gene." Alex shot him a look. One that was promptly ignored.
"I thought they got rid of the brain too." Chris piped up from the back.
"I feel this autopsy is enough to assume the most." One understanding look at the doctor, two incredulous and one pair of eyes turned to the floor. "It is upsetting to work on children, especially when the signs are obvious enough."
"Right. Raymondo! Chris! Bolly! Quatro! Mush!"
"Thank you doctor." DI Drake nodded as she left after the neandethalic trio.
As usual, DCI Gene Hunt drove like a maniac.
"We're only going to see his mother!" Alex yelled at him.
"Yeah well. Maybe she knew what he was up to!" was the reply. They pulled up outside a run-down block of flats.
Walking up the stairs, they knocked on number 14. A quivering woman peered out. Her blond hair a crow's-nest on her head, blue-eyes bulging and slightly bloodshot.
Hunt pulled out his badge and flipped it. "Police, love. You Mrs. Knight?" she nodded.
"Hughie?" the word barely passed her lips.
"He's dead, love, I'm sorry." She nodded, a tear falling from the corner of her eye.
"Come in officers." She said in the same way, leading them into the dingey lounge.
They sat on a moth-eaten sofa. The cream walls were blackened by a mulch that could only be damp. The place reeked. Mrs Knight sat on a stool opposite them. She didn't say a word.
"Mrs Knight?" Chris looked at her. She looked up from her clasped hands in her lap.
"I knew the moment he didn't come home he'd died." Was all she said. She wasn't an old woman, particularly. Just aged very quickly. She was probably in her late thirties. "Mark's away in France."
"Your husband?"
"Yes. He's a museum curator in the B.M. That's why we can't afford a renovation. Pocket money. Not wages."
"Yet he's in France?" that was a bit odd.
"Them Froggies don't know half the stuff in their museums. They call us in. or the Germans. Anyone who can tell them what's in there." Alex nodded. "I don't want to know how my baby died." She looked at the officers fervently. "I just want him buried and out of harm's way. Where no one can touch him." Her eyes were streaming now. The men nodded and stood.
"In that case, Mrs Knight, we'll send him to the undertaker." She nodded. The men walked out.
"Bolly." Hunt barked over his shoulder.
"Give me a minute, Gov. Mrs Knight." The woman looked at Alex. "I cant imagine how you feel at the moment…"
"You don't have children, I presume." The woman looked away.
"I do, a little girl. But she's not with me right now. I am trying so hard to get to her. I can only empathise. But…" she remembered the woman's words: "where no one can touch him." "Was Hugh bullied? Assaulted?"
"Who in this area do you think isn't bullied?" snapped the woman. "and he was one of the weak ones! Them kids probably got carried away and did something!" she took several heaving breaths, calming herself down. "Please leave."
"I'm sorry." And with that, Alex left the building. "Gov. We have some interrogating to do."
A crowd of boys were playing football in the carpark in front of the flats.
"Oi! That's my car you miserable little shit!" Hunt shouted as a football bounced off the back screen. The culprit laughed in his face.
"Fen you shudna pu' i' vere ma'e!" he ran off, Hunt fast on his heels. He caught up with him and grabbed his arm, after much effort it has to be said. The kids then crowded around.
"DI Drake." Alex looked up from her giggle fit. "You were saying about suspects?" the kid looked like he was about to wet himself in fear.
The interview room was full again. The brats however, unlike the other times the room had been full, knew they were about to get a scolding of a lifetime and stood stock still in fear. Outside the room, Viv was taking notes with Alex's help.
"Bolly." Hunt walked down the corridor.
"Gov?"
"We need to take 'em down. And quick. Commissioner's just heard and is giving me a hard time. We need to know who dunnit or else it's us on the line."
"You want to frame someone?" Alex raised a cynical eyebrow.
"Not frame. Find it out quick. I'm letting these kids go."
"But you cant do that."
"Watch me."
"We do not need another Jon Venables scenario!"
"For the love of Christ woman speak in straight English!"
"Alright! Mary Bell! You know her?"
Hunt stopped in his tracks. "Bell. Aye, I heard about that case. Geordies can't handle themselves. You don't think there's another like it?"
"I know that it is possible. I have studied cases similar. We are not letting those boys go."
"I give the orders around here Drakey! Don't forget I'm the Manc Lion."
"Lion, Bear and Monkey! It's like I'm working in a bloody zoo!" an exasperated not on Alex's behalf as Hunt stormed into the room.
"Right you bunch of" he struggled to find an appropriate insult. "Kids." He had some moral ground. "Who's your leader?" the kids fidgeted. The youngest one, a five year old, shot a furtive glance at the boy in the centre of the line. Hunt noticed.
"Right!" he grabbed him by the wrist. "The arrogant one who hit me car! Drake, with me! The rest of you, interview the rest as best you can." He left, dragging the kid behind.
Rolling her eyes, Drake followed.
"You heard the man." Ray said, shoving one of the boys into a seat. He glared at him defiantly. "Do your worst." Scoffed the mustached copper.
"Alright son?" Chris took the five year old who was still fumbling with his hands. "sit here and tell me what you know happened to your mate Hugh Knight." A pair of large blue eyes fixed themselves on his face.
XXX
"Look here, kid. You're pissing me off!"
"I dunno nufink. Nufink at all." The cheeky git kept his cool and glared at the officer.
"What's your name?" Alex leaned over the table, scrutinizing his face.
"Mickey Bates. Not that that'll do ya good." He smirked.
"How old are you Mickey? Older than the others or they wouldn't give you the credence they do."
"Firteen."
"Thirteen." She nodded "That's quite young."
"Young, but old enough to kill. And not too young to be put in a cell!" Hunt's hand hit the table.
"Boss?" Chris stood in the doorway.
"Not now Christopher!"
"Boss it's important. We have evidence."
"What?" Hunt looked at a loss for a second. "Interview suspended for a five minute break." He turned off the tape machine, then together with his colleague, they left the kid sit it out.
"Give me details." Hunt was not pleased.
"The kid I was interviewing, Jimmy Bates. That's his big brother. See, he said that the night of the murder, after the kids were all playing football in the carpark as they usually do, the ball goes into someone's garden. They send Hugh after it. Only he didn't come back as quick as they thought. So Mickey went after him. Apparently he came home late that night, scared. And covered in cuts."
"So he's an eyewitness if not a survivor." Chris nodded.
"Not just that Gov." he swallowed. "Apparently state schools're now teaching about how Incas and ancient folk liked to sacrifice things."
"What are you saying?"
"Jimmy said he's killed cats and the like. To see if it works. Said he quite liked it." There was a stunned silence.
"Thanks Chris. Keep Jimmy talking." Alex returned to the interview room.
"Jesus Christ." Was all Hunt said as he followed. Taking a chair, he sat opposite the gobby teenager. Alex followed suit, turning on the recording device.
"Your brother, Jimbo."
"He aint dun nufink!" the boy became defensive.
"No, he hasn't." Hunt corrected as well as agreeing. "But he says you have a tendency to kill off moggies. Is that right?"
"what?"
"Apparently." Alex cut in. "You enjoyed taking what you learnt in class and using it in the streets."
"What?"
"Ancient Egypt. Fascinating, isn't it? You know, mummies."
"So? What's this about?"
"Hugh Knight." Hunt joined in.
"Sir Hugh?"
"If ye like. He was found dead."
"Serves him right." The kid was acting strangely. Shirtily. He fidgeted.
"Cut up like an ancient Egyptian mummy."
"Like a what?"
"Gov." Viv walked in.
"Not know, skipper."
"The boys' parents have turned up and are causing a scene." Hunt sighed.
"Fine. Let them go." Mickey Bates stood, relief on his face. "Except that one. Put him in a nice cell."
"You can't!" Mickey was suddenly panic-stricken. Viv grabbed his shoulder and dragged him, kicking and screaming towards the basement-like prison. Not before he saw his parents. Or more importantly, they saw him.
"Fis is an outrage!" a chubby man in a string vest and jeans came down the corridor.
"Mr Bates?"
"Yea? What you doin' to my son you filf?"
"We believe your son to have psychopathic tendancies. We're sorry."
"Sorry? You…"
"As my colleague mentioned." Hunt cut in, towering over the squat builder (the man was still wearing his work clothes it would seem). "As she is psychiatrically trained"
"Psychologically." She corrected.
"Whatever. As she is trained to pick up on mindless killers, she knows the situation fairly well." Hunt gave nothing away. "Now please leave me do my job. Chris!" The youngest member of CID's top team jumped from where he was saying goodbye to the kid he'd been looking after.
"Gov?"
"Show these kind people the door." Hunt waved a hand and Chris followed his order.
"Mary Bell. I didn't think there could be another." Hunt hissed.
"I don't think it's him."
"Don't!" Hunt turned vehemently and pointed a finger at his colleague. "Don't start this again, Bolly!"
"He was scared."
"Because he knew he'd been caught!"
"Because he's scared of who actually did it!"
"Rubbish!" He turned his back on his female counterpart and walked down the corridor, through the office and into his own personal private chambers, slamming the door and pulling the shutter closed with a firm hand.
Sighing Alex walked into the office. "Ray. Chris." She called.
"Ma'am?" they chorused.
"I'm not happy."
"About arresting a kid? Yeah, these days are getting more and more dangerous by the minute. Next thing you know, it's babies with knives."
The DI and the DC turned towards Chris.
"Ye what?" Ray looked at his best mate with a look that mirrored the words in complete harmony.
"Be that as it may!" Alex interrupted a potentially idiotic battle of wits between the two inferior officers. "I don't think he's as guilty as he seems and I think that the Gov is particularly happy with the outcome. I think there's more digging that needs to be done."
The men shared looks of confused anticipation. "where're we going?" Ray asked.
"The carpark where those kids play football."
"How?"
"Where is DCI Hunt?" a cool voice entered the room. They turned. Evan White stood in the doorway.
"Evan?"
"I've been asked by some rather concerned parents to see if I can help persuade the police to let their poor son go." His smile held a bite of iron behind it.
"There's nothing I would like to see more than that child walk free, believe me. We're off to investigate something on a hunch of mine."
"Good. I take it he's in his office?" Alex nodded, while Ray and Chris surveyed the intruder with a look that could only be described and disgusted respect.
"Evan." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Could I borrow your car for a while?"
XXX
Outside in the carpark of the rundown block of council flats, the kids were outside, kicking a ball with no gusto whatsoever. The young one, Jimmy Bates saw them first and burst into tears. He ran at Chris.
"Why did you take Mickey!" he screamed, hitting, and when held at arm's length, kicking at the police officer. "Why? Why?" he repeated this until he had no more fight left in him and sat on the concrete, crying his poor little eyes out. One of the boys took his shoulders and glared up at them.
"Mickey wouldna killed sir Hugh." He said. "E was a good leada."
"I believe you." Alex squatted next to the pair. "Jimmy and?"
"Liam."
"Liam. Why do you call him sir?"
"Sir Hugh? Cos 'es an knigh' innee?"
"I see. So Sir Hugh kicked the ball over a fence." There was complete silence. Nine pairs of eyes stared at the police.
"Fat one." Liam pointed to the fence opposite the carpark entrance. "Mad Meg's place."
"Mad Meg?"
"She's a witch. She's got black cats she 'as." Another boy piped up, older than both Liam and Jimmy. "Patrick." He said when eyes turned to him. "She dun come out."
"Right, time to go meet her." Alex stood. "Jimmy, we'll get Mickey back to you as soon as we can." Needless to say, he ignored her. "Come on you two." She called as she walked toward a crumbling building beside another.
The old woman who opened the door looked senile. "Police." Ray opened his badge. The old woman threw herself into a fit.
"They came for me! I said they would! You said you'd sort it out!" she fell into a crumpled heap on the floor. Ray moved into the stinking hallway. The house smelt of piss and something else that couldn't be explained. He screwed up his face and hoisted her up by the elbow.
"Guilty conscience, love?" she sobbed. Mickey Bates was freed from the cells that afternoon.
XXX
"So, you killed Hugh Knight."
"Yes." A dejected old woman hung her head over the interview table.
"And you mutilated his body to imitate an Egyptian embalming process." Hunt crossed his arms. She jerked her head up.
"No."
"No?"
"I killed the child when I wasn't myself."
"What do you mean?" the woman at his side dug her elbow into his side.
"Interview suspended." She said, leading him out of the room.
Alex produced a file Chris had dug up on the old woman. "Megan Humphries suffers from multiple personality disorder."
"What?"
"She changes personality under certain levels of stress. She saw him and attacked him when she was under the influence of another personality."
"Give me strength!" Hunt howled at the ceiling, stalking back into the room and slamming the door. "So you killed him?" he plonked himself into the chair. Mrs. Humphries nodded.
"Then Giles took him away. He said it would be alright."
"Who is Giles?"
"He said he was the boy's father." The detectives stared at each other.
"Why would he do that?"
"Giles always looked after me, ever since he was a boy. He's lived there for many years. He said he'd bury his son properly, and promised I'd be alright." She swallowed, bringing a hand to her head. "He said he'd tell his wife." This was taking on a whole new dimension.
"Viv!"
"Yes Gov?"
"Take this woman to the cells. Then call the BM and ask if Mr Knight would care to call us from Paris."
"Yes. Gov."
XXX
Mrs Knight again. The poor woman looked like she was about to have a nervous breakdown.
"Why didn't you tell the police that your husband hadn't attended work for one week? Or that there was no conference in Paris for Egyptologists?"
She remained silent. Ray and Chris looked at each other.
"You know what I think?" Ray asked rhetorically. "I reckon you knew that your son had been killed and were in on it. Helped your husband flee the police."
"Only you didn't go with him. Why?"
The woman shook her head and tears fell from her eyes. She swallowed. "I don't know."
The story they got from the woman was fairly difficult to piece together because of her heart-wrenching sobs, but it made sense. She had caught her husband taking jars out of the cupboard on the side and had asked him what was going on. He had told her that their son had died in a tragic accident and he was burying him. She had followed and found him pouring over their son's mutilated body, shoving his organs in the jars and throwing them down a hole in the mad woman's garden. She'd been so upset she'd picked up one of the loose bricks and thrown it at him. It had hit him in the head and he had fallen into the pit himself. When he hadn't got up, she was crazed and had buried him in it. That left the child…. She threw his body into the river.
The gang pondered over this crazy story in Luigi's that night. Even Luigi had picked up on the glum mood and was just serving the officers and not asking questions.
In their usual corner on their own, Hunt and Alex sat opposite each other, sipping at the wine in the glasses.
"Bolly, the world is full of weirdoes." She didn't answer. "What kind of man does that to his son? I don't gettit."
"No. I don't either."
"You have a daughter, right?" she nodded. "Would you do that to her?"
"If she was dead and I thought it would be beneficial, I might." Hunt shot her a look. "I'd do anything for my Molly." She turned her head. Hunt nodded.
"What you told me in the volt."
"She looked back at him."
"You said you were dying." She nodded.
"Bet you were relieved when that lot turned up." Alex smiled.
"I wouldn't see her again if they hadn't." she nodded. "I'm grateful. But I have to finish my spell here so I can get back to her."
It was Hunts turn to look aside. "Well, until then." He raised his glass for her to knock hers against it. "Keep being an asset to Fenchirch East." She smiled and chinked the glasses together.