Chapter 5 ALONG CAME A SPIDER
“Gray, I know you’re busy. I’ll make this quick.” Shaun came into the Oval, wearing full police chief uniform, but it was the way he removed his hat and tucked it under his arm that earned Gray’s focus.
Gray handed him a coffee. “No rush.”
Shaun took a brief sip before sliding him a glance. “You sure? On Friday, I was briefed about your CObrA meeting with the PM at eleven over the conflict with Houthis in Yemen.”
“Hm. Far too much profit in war. It looks like we’re heading that way with them.” He’d received a call half an hour ago from Simon’s replacement as his Unit Manager, Alya, letting him know a CObrA meeting had been called for eleven over a possible war with Iran and ongoing concerns over the US’s announcement on wanting nuclear armament over brICS countries overtaking those in G7.
Concerns had always been there, but since Russia’s invasion of the Ukraine, the escalating conflict between Israel and Palestine, plus Iran now thrown into the mix, MI5 and beyond had raised the threat level from substantial to severe. Along with directors from GCHQ, he and Alya should be with Cal with his directors from MI6 and the Prime Minister at today’s meeting.
This was where he really missed Simon and his ability to dig into underground networks and gather intel on bank dealings that hid a larger gathering of weapons aiding either Russia, Israel or Houthis in Iran. That wasn’t saying he didn’t value Alya. She had other skills, her instinct over unseen threats both in and away from the net top of the list. She’d also worked under Simon so knew what Gray expected out of his unit manager. She just wasn’t Simon. Neither was those at GCHQ, despite all their skill on coding.
Light had held to his promise of allowing Simon to liaison with him on MI5 business, but both were out of the country for another week in Egypt, and Alya had requested that Gray give the all-clear to Simon reviewing Cal’s intelligence over Israel.
All in all, it left Gray doing nothing more than signing off on classified paperwork between a pissing contest with grown-up men who were having a tantrum over losing money and control. It left his MI5 directorship with a stale taste to it, how the negative reinforcement leash was being pulled tight even via his director-general with profiling work that was passed onto MI6 before him. The director-general was never in the office to discuss it, but then Gray had never voiced it as a concern either. He just wouldn’t forget, and that was probably why his director-general took more days away at the golf course until normal service was, or wasn’t, resumed with the cullers.
The tightening of his leash worked. Doing nothing but the mundane of the routine ate under his skin more than he wanted to admit, so… Chris and Ben it had been until Shaun arrived.
“Apologies for the delay in getting here.” Shaun put his coffee down. “I just needed to wait for more news from the pathologist on his postmortem before talking to you.”
Drip… fucking drop.
At times Gray understood Light’s conversation with the world when it came to I-dosing and coloured vibrations. His was more tone and tonicity, how Shaun’s vibrated through his skin.
Life had been taken, but not by an ordinary killer. “You have a serious problem.”
“I think the Cullers could have, and it’s got to have been going on for a while with this level of balls.” Shaun took out his phone as Gray cocked a brow. He thumbed through it, then brought up a file marked classified.
A woman lay bound on the table, chemical burns covering a bloodied face… knife wound to her stomach, the same chemical burns to skin around the open wound… hair shaved with long strands on the floor, around the table. Then a shot of a man: fingernails plucked from his fingers, skin peeled back off his hands. He sat at the kitchen table, his throat slit and the knife loose in his hand, potatoes served on plates with parsley sauce covering them. A long line of red ran across the man’s plate, giving the kitchen a colour palate that startled.
Tucker, Jason.
Tucker . Gray frowned. “That surname’s familiar.”
“In part it’s why I’m here.” Shaun tapped the phone. “Jan’s colleague at the MC who’s up for promotion with him, Monique? Jason’s her brother.”
Gray looked up at him and cocked a brow. “She doesn’t know about this yet.” She wouldn’t have picked Jan up for work otherwise, and if she’d found out since, Gray would have gotten a call from Jan that something was wrong.
“No, not yet.” Trouble lined Shaun’s eyes, and Gray focused back on the report to fully understand just why family hadn’t been notified.
Bodies had been discovered yesterday morning, but the pathologist’s on-scene observations put the woman’s death at Thursday evening, Jason’s a few hours after. Both nearly four days ago.
“Jason is cited as the mark,” said Shaun. “The fingerprints on the weapon used to stab the woman are his. On-scene observations from the pathologist also cited suicide with Jason a few hours after he murdered his partner.”
Gray looked at Shaun. “But you suspect something different other than a domestic murder/suicide if you’re talking to me.”
Shaun nodded, and he stepped shoulder-level with Gray and brought up another photo. “Take a look at this.”
A puncture wound from a needle pierced Jason’s lower back.
Gray studied it more closely. “That was made after death,” he said flatly. No bruising surrounded the mark, and the puncture wound hadn’t healed, not like it would have done on a live subject.
Shaun nodded. “Saturday evening, to be precise.”
Forty-eight hours after death, with someone else going back on scene to syphon the samples. Gray cocked a brow. “We’re looking at bone marrow theft here.”
“Precisely,” Shaun said flatly. “And he wasn’t marked as a donor. This was done at the victim’s home, after death.”
Necro bone marrow thieves… that really was dark Victorian-era play. “But they knew what they were doing, especially over the time delay.” Gray studied the photo again. Death allowed time for phenotyping over human leukocyte antigens, also to evaluate where there was presence of any potential infectious diseases in the subject. He looked around the image of the kitchen where Jason had been found. “That’s a lot of testing.” No doubt why a weekend had been chosen.
Shaun took his phone back, and Gray’s phone let him know he’d received a copy of the files a moment later, so he took his own out. “That puts the real mark as either medical professional or a wannabe,” added Shaun.
A doctor.
Gray’s stomach somersaulted.
Oh it would fucking be, wouldn’t it?
“It’s too coincidental that they stumbled across the bodies in order to take the sample,” said Shaun.
Gray nodded. The house had been under surveillance, perhaps long before the theft.
“Only issue is, beyond the needle mark, there’s no other visible evidence that anyone influenced Jason’s double murder/suicide,” added Shaun.
“Double?”
Shaun tapped the woman’s file. “His partner was four weeks pregnant.”
Gray looked at the photo: the knife wound to the stomach, the chemical burns around it. Tucker had tried to bleed something out of her. Curious, though. They were dealing with someone who knew where and how to steal bone marrow, so they’d have the knowledge on how to poison the bloodstream, and this murder/suicide wasn’t exactly what Gray would class as normal parameters. It was too creative. In fact, from the positioning of the woman on the table and Tucker sat having finished getting dinner ready despite strips of skin mixing with potato peel, it looked as if a scene of some sort had been played out, most of it not based in reality. Or it had been made to look that way. He would have been impressed, but with this mark potentially being a doctor…? “One or both were potentially drugged?”
Shaun nodded. “On scene behavioural toxicology concurred with that possible theory. The pathologist is in the process of collecting samples for a full postmortem report from the toxicologist.”
But that could take up to six weeks, even with leaning on the department. They needed time to work thoroughly.
Shaun rested against Gray’s desk. “He did find early signs of swelling on the brain, though.”
Gray frowned. “Cerebral edema?” Drug abuse could lead to Cerebral edema in some drug addicts, but that was drug abuse over a sustained period. “Does he know what caused it and if it relates to cause of death?”
“He just said an accumulation of fluid and that it needed more investigation. Curiously, he did, however, run a basic drug’s test of known drugs with both subjects and found negative results with Jason. But Amanda had heavy traces of pesticide poisoning.”
So Jason was potentially clear of known drugs himself. But that always left room for the unknown. “We’ll see what the postmortem toxicology brings up with them both.” It would be more specialised. “But Jason was what? A curator. A botanist?” Gray double-checked that detail, then ran a look over the photo of the woman on the table, more the cannister that sat underneath it.
“Yes, he was,” said Shaun, distracting him. “His police file also shows he had minors for GBH in his youth, was taking medication for chronic anxiety disorder, but had no history of abuse towards his wife.” He fell quiet for a moment. “I’ve held off telling Monique because I thought you might want to have a look at the scene yourself, especially with it being Wales.” He gave a rough sigh. “I’m officially passing this onto the cullers as a… concern. There’s a third party at play here. A seriously ill one that doesn’t give a damn about being seen.”
Doing it this way, officially with a culler, it would bury consultancy relationships between Gray and the MC on his culler part and wouldn’t hurt the MC if the Monarchy got to hear about Shaun being the one to call him in. This was direct communication from head of the MET to lead culler. It was still a personal issue with it being a family member to someone at the MC, to Monique, but it would remain a professional passed on concern that needed investigation beyond MI5 domestic terrorism on paper. “I’ll need to talk to Monique once I’ve looked the scene over today.”
Shaun offered a small smile. “Forget avoiding paperwork and old-guard talk over war tables, does the Monarchy know you’re active as a culler? You will tell them at some point, right?”
Gray winked at Shaun. “Welshman here. They know how protective we are over our own. It’s just unfortunate that Wales still falls under the UK flag.”
“I didn’t hear dissention from the Crown’s culler there. Far too much Welsh Dragon in the blood there, Gray.” But Shaun had played on it. He’d known Gray would take a cull that threatened home soil. And when it came down to the MC, Gray would protect home there too if Shaun sent out the call. Always.
“Besides,” added Gray. “Delegation. I was told I should practice that art too.” Alya would be teaming up with Cal in MI6 and liaise back his way when needed as far as…talks over the war table went. With the threat on an international level, this was more his father’s lead in MI6 this morning.
“Okay.” Shaun gave a heavy sigh and put his phone away. “I’ve cancelled the FRC promotion for tomorrow but haven’t told the candidates yet, that includes Jan. I can keep them focused for another twenty-four hours, longer if you need.”
Gray nodded. “Clear access to Tucker’s home address in Wales and get me any street CCTV in a two-block area if there is any, then.” Beyond that, the mark could slip in from anywhere.
“Absolutely, and I’ll send you over the chief constable’s private number for South Wales Police.” He flicked a look at Gray. “It’ll go a lot smoother with one of their own talking to him, even if you are from the North.”
Gray snorted a smile, and he pulled out his own phone to let Jack know he’d be gone for the day, but his hand hovered over letting Jan know. He did eventually, but he’d make damn sure to keep any mention of death away from him for at least another twenty-four hours.
He needed life to stay as calm as possible for both of them, at least until he’d be back in time to catch any potential fallout.