The Lover's Children novel Chapter 112

KLEMPNER

“So, that’s the past. What about the present? I presume you’ve searched his apartment?”

“Of course. And his locker at the hospital. We found all the proof we need that Patrick Harkness is the Surgeon…” Stanton pauses, his mouth working… “It wasn’t good, what was found.”

“Go on.”

“The… tools of his trade. Scalpels, vinyl gloves. All of them, brands used by the City hospital. An assortment of equipment, including dental gags and a hand axe.

“His souvenirs? The locks of hair cut from the women?”

“Yes. Seventeen of them. Each one tied with a ribbon.”

“Seventeen? All from different women?”

“Yes. Six match the victims we already know of. The remainder, we’re trying to connect with their original owners.”

“Is it possible to run DNA testing on them?”

“We’re trying of course, but it seems Harkness was fond of his souvenirs. The locks were washed and cleaned, then mounted on a display. We’ll see what Forensics can do. However…”

Stanton stalls, his expression turning bleak. Empathy's not my strong suit. I know that, but…

“What else?”

“We may not need DNA testing to ID the women. Harkness took photographs. And videos. Before, after and during, as they screamed and choked and died. So, we have their faces.” He swipes a hand over his face. “It's only a matter of time before we connect them to other known murders or missing persons, but it’s not the kind of thing you can unsee.” He swallows.

“Any photos of the missing daughter among them?”

Stanton’s sweating. “Not in the files so far, but they’re still working through. And it wasn't just the women. There’s a lot of material in there. Some of it his. Much of it downloaded snuff files.”

“Can you trace the files?”

“Work in Progress.”

I ponder. “Commissioner, you’ve given me a lot of information there, covering years. It seems clear that Harkness’ behaviour goes back to childhood. Why was there no watch put on him? Surely as part of the investigation into the Surgeon murders, his name must have cropped up somewhere?”

Stanton arches brows. “It’s a good question, isn’t it.”

*****

JAMES

A couple of cans in hand, I go in search of Michael. I find him sitting on the terrace wall, looking out over the meadows and down to the lake.

I offer out a can. “Beer?”

He smiles. “Sure.”

He pops his. I pop mine. We sit in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“Helluva spot isn’t it,” he says at length.

“It’s hard to beat.”

He glugs from his can. Wipes foam from his mouth. “What’s the latest from Mitch on Klempner?”

“Out of danger. Bored. She doesn’t seem worried.”

He snorts. “Everything’s fine there, then.” He stares into space for a moment. “And Charlotte?”

“Improving, I’d say, now she knows her father’s on the mend. In fact, I think it’s a good cue to lighten the mood.”

Michael’s vacant expression clears. “Beth’s idea?”

“Beth’s idea.”

His smile dawns then widens. “James, there’s something else… That calendar Charlotte keeps in her study. I checked it this morning. She’s late.”

“Late? Late as in late?”

“As in late.”

“She’s not said anything?”

“Not yet, but I can’t think of a better time to go for that mood-lightening you mentioned.”

I drain my can. “Let’s go talk to Beth.”

*****

Michael lays hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, lays a kiss on her forehead. “How are you doing, Babe? You alright?”

Her smile is a little thin, but it’s there. “I’m okay. Knowing that Dad’s going to be alright has helped. But it’s all been a bit… you know. What with one thing and another.”

“Of course, but we’re coming out of it now. Anyway, James and I wanted a word with you. Beth too.”

Worry darts over her face. “I’m not… you’re not mad at me over something are you?”

“No. No. Nothing like that. Quite the opposite.” Michael turns, releasing her to me and I slip my arms around her.

I add my own kiss to her forehead. “For some fairly obvious reasons, Charlotte, you’ve been upset recently, but as you know, it’s Richard’s birthday very soon. And Beth here has made rather an interesting suggestion about his birthday gift.”

“Master?” Charlotte’s eyes widen, green with intrigue, flicking between me, Beth and Michael. Michael grins, flashing brows.

“You recall that, some time ago, for Beth’s birthday, Richard ‘gave her’ Michael.”

Her brow crinkles. “Of course, but…”