Equinox

Chapter 10

'What's brought this on?' Philip asked as Laura, sitting on the edge of his bed, shook him awake.

'Oh, just felt like it,' Laura replied lightly, laying a breakfast tray on the quilt between them

'You're after something.' Philip sat up and rubbed his eyes.

'Philip

'You want to get involved in the investigation. Am I right?'

Laura could not pretend for long. 'I've been thinking about it all night. Hardly slept a wink.'

'But, Laura, this is a police investigation. You have no authority… I don't have any authority, for God's sake!'

'I'm not suggesting I enrol in the police force, Philip. I'm just saying I want to conduct, well, a parallel line of inquiry.'

'"A parallel line of enquiry"?' Philip scoffed. 'This isn't Kojak , you know'

'I think I can help.'

Philip said nothing. 'Could I at least have some tea first?'

Laura poured milk into his cup.

'Agh. . bloody Americans and tea! Let me do this. And you tell me what you've been mulling over all night.'

She placed a couple of pillows at the far end of the bed and settled herself against the ironwork of the bedstead. 'I kept thinking about what I said last night — you know, about Jack the Ripper? But I soon realised that there are actually very few similarities between our murders and the Whitechapel killings. Sure, the Ripper's victims had organs removed and there were ritualistic aspects to the murders. The police at the time discovered some weird Freemason connection, but they never really got it figured. Even today we still don't know for certain who the murderer was.'

'So, what're you saying?'

'For a start, all the victims in Whitechapel were prostitutes, as were most of the more recent murders of the Yorkshire Ripper back in the 1980s. Also, the way the organs were removed from the current victims is very different to the historical cases. Sure, all the Whitechapel victims had their throats cut, left to right, but each murder was more brutal than the last. The Ripper's final victim, Mary Kelly, was practically ripped apart. There was also a clear sexual aspect to the murders. The two MOs are quite different.'

'You've certainly been doing your homework/ Philip said half-mocking.

Laura shrugged. 'I've read a few books about Jack the Ripper. Always fascinated me.' She took a breath. 'There's a very specific ritualistic aspect to these two cases. Gold coin, silver coin, heart removed, brain removed. Maybe there's something significant in the fact that the second murdered girl was placed on water while the first victim, the one near The Perch, was on land. But it's not a whole lot to go on, is it? Did you find out anything more yesterday?'

'Not really, Laura. I'm a police photographer. I spent most of the day producing prints and backing up the digital files, sending material to Scotland Yard and looking up pictures on the police database.'

'But surely you've got buddies at the station? You must have found out something. Jesus! Surely you're curious?'

Philip poured himself a second cup of tea. Picking up a piece of toast, he said, 'Well, of course I've done some prying. But why should I tell you about it?'

Laura looked shocked.

'You're going back to New York, aren't you? What's the point?'

'I've decided to stay a while.'

'Oh, you have, have you?'

'You don't have to put up with me here if. .'

'Oh, Laura. Of course you can stay, stay as long as you like … If you can put up with the plumbing.'

She smiled suddenly. 'It was Jo's accident. .'

'I realise that, but now?'

'Well, now I'm intrigued. I'm ditching Thomas Bradwardine and thinking more in terms of a modern mystery.'

'Ah-ha. Well, that's honest, I suppose.' 'I wasn't. .'

'OK,' Philip said softly. 'What do you want to know?'

'Well, the whole shebang, Philip.' He laughed out loud and sat back against the pillows. 'You're amazing.' 'So?'

'Well, I don't know all that much. . they don't know that much. Both girls were university students. The first victim, the girl in the car, was Rachel Southgate. Eighteen, a Fresher, daughter of a bishop — Leonard Southgate, a widower living in Surrey. Rachel had three older sisters. The girl in the punt was Jessica Fullerton. Nineteen, just starting her second year. Oxford family, live in a house about a hundred yards from where her body was discovered. An only child — both parents were immensely proud of their academic daughter. As I told you last night, she had the house to herself, parents in Europe. Mum and dad were contacted yesterday. Should be back in Oxford by now'

'Was there anything about the victims that linked them? Apart from the fact that they were both students? Which college were they at?'

'No link. Jessica was at Balliol reading law, Rachel was at Merton studying English.'

'What about physical characteristics? Families? Friends? Did they know each other?'

'Rachel was blonde, tall, slender, Jessica was brunette, shorter, heavier. Both came from vaguely middle-class families. No idea if they knew each other. I guess Monroe's boys are covering that, it's routine stuff.'

Laura nodded and looked out of the bedroom window. It was a fresh, crisp spring morning — yesterday's rain was far away now. 'Doesn't tell us much, does it?'

'I called one of the guys at the station for an update last night,' Philip said after a while. 'Forensics have found that the two coins are solid precious metals, but not ancient. They were minted recently and made to look old.'

'The originals must be incredibly rare. But just leaving replicas has to mean something very special to the killer.' Laura paused for a moment. 'Could you sketch them? Didn't they have some figures on them?'

'God, let me think.'

She walked over to a chest of drawers and found a piece of paper and a pencil.

'Actually, we don't need those. I can do better, if you can stomach it.'

'Your camera.'

'If you're feeling athletic, it's in the hall.'

A couple of minutes later Philip had found the close-ups stored on the memory chip in his Nikon, picked one, zoomed in on the coin and turned the camera round so that Laura could see the screen on the back. 'That's about the best one. I could print it out for you.'

Laura did her best to ignore the exposed raw flesh in various shades of red encircling the coin and to focus on the object at the centre of the image. It showed the profile of a head, a thin angular androgynous face with a long noble nose. The person depicted on the silver coin left inside Jessica Fullerton's cranium was wearing some sort of rectangular headpiece. 'I'm sure there were some female figures on the first coin.'

'Yes, I think there were,' Philip replied.

Laura grabbed the notebook. 'Something like this, wasn't it?' She showed Philip her drawing of robed figures holding up a bowl.

'Well, it's no Rembrandt. But yes, it was something along those lines.'

'So what do you think it represents?' 'Search me.'

'And this figure. Looks vaguely familiar,' she said, pointing to the digital image. 'He, she looks like an ancient Egyptian, a Pharaoh, don't you think?'

Philip shrugged. 'Maybe. The other side could be some religious imagery. The Egyptians were sun-worshippers, weren't they? Maybe this bowl,' and Philip pointed to Laura's sketch, 'represents the sun.'

Laura stared at the photographic image and then at the rough sketch she had made. 'I'd really like a print of this.' She tapped the screen. 'And I have to do a little more digging.'