Cain had managed to get home, shower, and get to the office before Rigby. What had happened last night? He felt good this morning. He knew it had been a huge outpouring of pent up emotions and the need to be touched that he had kept locked away for months. Allowing it out had been a beautiful feeling and he felt like a dark cloud had been lifted. But had Rigby been the right person to do that with?
Cain called in Simmonds and asked him to contact forensics and see if they could put a brand to the type of plastic gloves that the killer was wearing when he attacked Zach. Also, he wanted to find out how many brands of plastic gloves were on the market. Cain wondered if it would be easy to narrow down the supplier once they knew? Simmonds got onto it straight away.
Once Simmonds had left Cain returned to his computer. On the screen was a blank white document with the cursor blinking aimlessly in the top left corner. Chief Superintendent Critchley had asked him for a summary report this morning on the case. The request had come in late last night while they were observing the bars.
Cain’s desk phone rang. He picked it up.
It was his children’s headmaster again.
’How can I help?’ Cain said after the initial introductions.
’Your daughter has been fighting this time. She was being teased about the case you are working on. Your face is all across the morning papers again.’
’Is she hurt?’
’Bruised mainly. But she packs a good punch.’
’Right I will be over as soon as I can get there. Give me an hour.’
’What happened to the other kids?’
’I have two of them in detention and I will be speaking to their parents later when they are collected. I will also be speaking to the whole school tomorrow in assembly.’
’Thanks. If you need me to help I am available.’
’That’s kind but I think I can handle it.’
Cain made his excuses to Simmonds and left straight away. It at least gave him an excuse not to see Rigby. Not that he was worried about it either. It sat well with him for some reason.
Arriving at the school Cain was taken through to the school’s small infirmary. His daughter was waiting there. She had a small bruise on her forehead and a cut lip. The main injury seemed to be her right hand that was covered in an icepack.
’That is from your daughter's lightning right hook by all accounts,’ the nurse explained with a strong Scottish accent. ’She should either learn to control it or perhaps she should join a local boxing club. By all accounts, she has great talent.’
’Thank you, nurse. I think I will just take her home first,’ Cain said, indicating to his daughter to join him.
She dropped down off the bed.
’Come on love.’ Cain said putting a comforting arm around his daughter. She needed to feel his love at the moment. His reprimand would come later.
’What about Harry?’ his daughter asked.
’He’s still in class. Your grandparents will pick him up later. Let’s get you out of here. I thought we might get a hot chocolate on the way home and you can tell me what happened this morning.’
As they drove away in search of hot chocolate Cain’s thoughts drifted to his ex-wife. He had a feeling of growing pain deep inside. All of a sudden he felt the guilt about what he had done last night. It was as if he had betrayed his late wife’s memory. He was fuming inside. This would not have happened and he would not be in this situation if it had not been for Ratner. That little weasel of a man had ruined his life. He made a promise to make sure Ratner’s was ruined in return.
I am sitting at my desk. My team is close by working through their daily tasks. My skin is driving me mad. I cannot stop the itching. I am trying to concentrate on a report that I need to complete, but it is impossible. As soon as I stop to think I find that my hands and nails are drawn to a different part of my body to scratch and dig into my flesh. When I had first reached the office, the itchiness had been around my ankles. The itchiness had now spread up my body and seemed to center around my neck, face, and ears. People in the office sitting close to me were noticing my condition today. I had been asked a few times if I was okay. I said that it must be a new washing powder that was not agreeing with me.
I click on my computer’s search browser. I start to search through the news websites and read their articles on the progress of the City Serial Killer case. As I read through the different accounts provided by the variety of reporters covering the case I realise I am being compared more and more to Jack the Ripper with all his skill in evading the efforts of the police or as a homicidal maniac that needs to be castrated and executed on the spot. It infuriates me that all the papers are missing the point. It was these women's actions that had brought about their own deaths. I had a mission that needed to be completed, another point missed. But maybe that was a good thing. If they knew the full mission that Marlene had laid out for me, they could perhaps work out how to stop me. Why do these reporters never see the positive side of these women’s releases? Perhaps I need to educate them as well. But would they understand the message even if it was laid out in front of them?
The more I read about myself the itchiness in my skin seems to dissipate. As my web browser is still open I clicked onto my Facebook page. The envelope icon in the top right corner tells me I have a message. I open up the folder. Trevor has replied.
Thank you for your reply.
Yes, I am a strong man, so you are in luck. I like to be in control but I don’t like a submissive woman.
Is that you M? Are you submissive?
As we live close to each other, maybe we can meet and find out more about each other.
I like your picture. You are pretty.
Ta for now,
I read his message a couple of times before I reply. I am glad that he has asked to meet as I don’t think I can keep up this pretense for very long.
I am not submissive but I do like to be dominated sometimes.
Yes, we can meet. I think that is best.
When and where babe?
I clicked off my page and return to my work. The itchiness had gone as my desires have been assuaged.
A little while later Trevor replies. We will meet in two day’s time. Feltham Market at nine o’clock in the evening.
That night as Cain drove the short distance home his mind was in flux with what had happened the night before. The day had been an emotional one. He had just left his ex-in-laws house after spending the day with his children. He had spoken to Rigby a few times by phone and asked her to finalise the interview in London with the owners of Tania’s bar the following day. He hoped they would co-operate as he did not fancy the journey down to Bristol. He had also asked her to put together a quick summary of the investigation for the Super. Better late than never.
As Cain was about to turn into his road he thought he would swing by and check on Ratner’s flat. Sitting outside his flat would give him a chance to think about the previous night he had spent with Rigby. Surprisingly, communicating with her today had been very easy. It was as if they had a greater level of understanding between each other now, a connection. It had taken Cain a little by surprise as he had been expecting the opposite from her.
As Cain drew up along the street outside Ratner’s flat the area looked quiet. He parked close to where he normally did. Stupid really after his recent encounters with Ratner as he was bound to look in that direction.
He settled down in his seat and looked up the road. His mind started to wander and go back to Rigby’s flat. He found himself smiling as he recounted the evening in his mind.
He was suddenly jolted back to reality by a sharp nock to his passenger side window. He snapped to the left and the image of Ratner’s face mouthing “Wanker” and making the action with his left hand. He had been busted, again. Ratner wandered off up the road seemingly not too drunk this evening. Cain was losing his touch. He put the car into gear and drove home feeling more than stupid.