Secrets and Lies

After some deliberation Carter decided he wasn't ready to try and confront Campbell and Smith just yet. Either as suspects, persons of interest, or potential allies.

And despite that last option being my idea, I was happy the inspector opted to put the whole thing off for a while. I still hadn't quite come to terms with what happened to us Friday night, and really wasn't looking forward to encountering those two men again any time soon.

Instead Carter was content just knowing where they were staying. He didn't say it, but I got the impression he probably asked someone in the area to keep an eye on them. It was one of the stereotypes of rural locations that they liked to spy on and talk about strangers, but in this case I didn't mind if it meant we could use it to our favour.

When we wrapped up our conversation the inspector had me forward everything I'd found to him, and after that he basically gave me the rest of the weekend off. With the caveat that he might call me back in at any time should something come up.

So I packed up my laptop then headed back to Mrs. Whitmore's B&B, after a quick detour to the little grocery shop nearby. Then armed with a couple cans of cola and some packaged snacks incase I felt peckish later I retired to my room and spent the rest of the afternoon following my original plans. I reviewed the earlier case files, got to know each of the victims a little better, and generally tried to familiarize myself with the entire case.

That's how I spent the rest of the day Saturday, and most of the evening too. The only exception was around half past six when I popped over to the pub across the street for a bit of dinner.

Sunday was more of the same, with one exception. I got up in time to take advantage of the coffee in the dining room, and Mrs. Whitmore's morning meal service. That was actually a bit of a treat, she prepared a full English breakfast and it was great. Between that and the coffee it was almost enough to make up for her snark the day before.

That's also when I discovered I wasn't her only guest. Another woman turned up at the dining table, but we didn't exactly meet. She seemed to want to keep to herself, so apart from exchanging a simple hello we didn't really talk. She looked to be in her forties, tall and slim, and while there were some grey streaks in her short blonde hair her dark blue eyes seemed sharp. She was dressed business-casual, even on a Sunday morning, and I took her to be some sort of professional. A lawyer perhaps, or at least some kind of career-woman.

After breakfast I was back in my room reviewing case notes on my laptop again until around noon, when I decided I needed to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. It was back to being overcast and damp out so I had my jacket on overtop my hoodie, but I spent a good hour wandering around the village.

I even walked up Station Lane to the train tracks, and took a moment to check out the pub up that way where the fourth victim worked. I also visited the spot where Jane Doe number four was found. Unfortunately there wasn't anything to see, nothing caught my eye and nothing seemed out of place. Same with the spot where the sixth body was discovered. I didn't bother visiting Detective Armstrong's home since I knew it would be locked up. And anyways there was nothing to suggest he ever made it back there the night he vanished. Eventually I returned to Mrs. Whitmore's B&B, and from there I finished up my Sunday exactly as I'd done the day before.

Now it was Monday, and for the first time since arriving in town I was properly dressed for work. I had a pair of comfortable black slacks, a taupe blouse, and proper shoes on my feet. I also had my long blonde hair tied up in a neat little regulation bun today. I still needed my hoodie and autumn windbreaker though, due to the typical November weather we were having. And after another fine breakfast courtesy of Mrs. Whitmore I met Inspector Carter in front of the B&B, where he was waiting for me in his antique vehicle.

"I finally heard back from Maureen first thing this morning," he explained as we set out east towards Whitby. "She's got news for us, and I'm afraid it doesn't sound good."

I asked, "She confirmed the evidence was tampered with? That's pretty much what we expected, right?"

Carter shrugged, "She wanted to discuss it in person. But yes, I assume that's what she's going to tell us."

"Is it normal for her to ask you in for a meeting like this?" I asked with a slight frown. "From what I heard on Friday, I had the impression she thought sending reports was more thorough."

The inspector hesitated then grimaced slightly, "Typically she only wants to discuss things in person when there's something significant. Or something sensitive, that she doesn't want to risk getting out."

"And considering we may be dealing with a supernatural serial killer," he added, "I'd say that's more than sensitive enough to warrant special treatment."

I nodded slowly, "Good point."

Unlike our Friday evening race into town the drive this time was a lot more relaxed. And while traffic was nowhere near London levels, there was enough of it that it took us about twice as long before we finally reached the municipal buildings at Springhill. Parking was more of an issue as well, but the inspector found us a spot only a short walk from the ME's office. And needless to say, when we got there neither of us so much as looked at the lift. Without a word we both headed directly towards the staircase.

We arrived at the second floor landing just a minute ahead of our ten o'clock appointment. The young woman at the front desk obviously recognized the inspector, she greeted him then notified the doctor that her policeman had arrived. The way she phrased that left me trying to suppress a smile, as it all but confirmed I was right about there being something between the inspector and the medical examiner. Or if not, then at least I wasn't the only person to suspect it.

It was only another half minute or so before Dr. O'Conner emerged from deeper in the facility to greet us. Or more specifically she greeted 'her policeman' with a warm smile, despite her otherwise harried expression. "Hello James, it's good to see you again! I'm sorry the circumstances couldn't be better though."

"Good morning Maureen," the inspector responded. "And no need to apologize, whatever's the matter I know it's certainly not your fault."

Then he gestured towards me, "Allow me to introduce my temporary partner, this is Detective Trillium Sharpe. And Sharpe, this is Doctor Maureen O'Conner."

I caught the brief expression on her face as her eyebrows jumped up for just a moment. I'd seen that often enough in the past few weeks to know she was probably surprised about my apparent youth. The doctor kept any comments or questions on that subject to herself and instead greeted me politely, "Hello detective. It's a pleasure to meet you in person."

"Likewise doctor," I responded in kind.

To my eyes the ME looked to be a conventionally attractive woman in her mid-forties, right around the same age as Carter in fact. She was roughly the same height as myself, a hundred and seventy centimetres tall. Her wavy brown hair hung down to about shoulder-length, and her inquisitive brown eyes were behind a large pair of glasses. She was dressed in a professional skirt-suit combination, and a pair of low-heeled shoes completed the outfit.

With the introductions out of the way Dr. O'Conner led Carter and I past the lobby and into her office. And once there, she made sure to close the door behind us so we had some privacy for our conversation. Then the three of us all got seated around the doctor's desk.

And as soon as we were comfortable the inspector asked, "Alright Maureen, not that I mind the excuse to come and see you but what was so sensitive that you couldn't share it over the phone?"

"Your impromptu visit here Friday evening resulted in quite a few ruined weekends James," the doctor began. "Not your fault of course, but it led to something much bigger. After receiving your messages I came in Saturday morning to have a look at the evidence and my notes. My next call was to our IT people, and from there I believe it was escalated all the way up to the Security Service."

By that point my eyes were wide, while the inspector had a concerned frown on his face.

"I take it you found evidence of tampering then?" he asked.

Dr. O'Conner nodded, "I did, but that was just the tip of the iceberg."

"What I'm about to tell you mustn't leave this office," she added in a solemn tone. "The powers that be do not want this getting out. I'm sure it'll hit the news soon enough, but not until after they've had a chance to remedy the problem."

With that aside she continued, "You already know that the CCTV footage and other security logs from Friday were lost. So were all my notes, my preliminary report on your case and a few others. These computers are supposed to be locked down, high security and all that? Apparently that's not the case. Our IT people were talking about 'zero-day exploits' and 'backdoor vulnerabilities' and the likes. Whatever it was they found, it got them all up in arms. And considering we use the same software as other ME's offices and law enforcement authorities around the country, the problem is almost certainly nation-wide."

For a moment I wondered if that meant even the Met's computers were compromised, then I realized they must have been. I looked at Carter and said, "That would explain how they got their hands on a copy of my warrant card, maybe even how they knew I was coming."

"I assume so," he nodded grimly. Then he focused on the ME again and asked, "So what does this mean for our case? You said you lost your notes and preliminary report, do you have backups? And did they tamper with anything else?"

O'Conner looked like she wanted to eye-roll at her friend's single-minded focus. Instead she shook her head, "I'll have to start over, but here's the thing? I already checked the one firm piece of evidence we had, and it's different. The fingerprints no longer match."

"What?!" Carter demanded. "Why not?"

The doctor looked uneasy as she explained, "I took Jane Doe Six's prints again, and ran them through the computer. This time there was no match. So I called up Harry's file, and tried to do it manually like I did before? No match, they're not even close. But I know they matched last week. I saw it with my own eyes on Friday, all ten digits were a perfect match. Yet now they're not."

"I really can't explain it James," she sighed. "I know I said last week it was impossible for Jane Doe Six to be Harry Armstrong, but this is even more impossible. And it's making me question my own senses and memories."

I interjected at that point, "That's what's so disturbing about this case. If we're dealing with magic, then all bets are off. Physics, chemistry, the laws of nature, none of that applies anymore."

"And we already know at least one kind of magic is real," I added. "There's enough evidence of that every full moon. I'm sure we'll be seeing even more by the end of this week, considering the 'seventh wave' will be this Friday just before noon."

Inspector Carter frowned, "Assuming our killer sticks to the same schedule, the full moon falls right in the middle of when we can expect the next attack."

"So does this mean we're back to square one with the evidence Maureen?" he asked as he focused on his friend again. "We've lost a full week's work?"

O'Conner looked apologetic as she nodded, "I'm afraid so. It shouldn't take as long this time around, but it'll probably be Thursday before my new final report is ready for you."

"Damn," Carter sighed. "What about backups? Or printouts? Surely there must be something."

I asked, "What about the DNA? That wasn't supposed to be back until today, right? If those results weren't here then they couldn't have been compromised. Or do you run those test in-house?"

"Actually no," the doctor replied with a smile. "We have limited resources here so all the more involved tests are sent out to other facilities. And you're right, the DNA results should be back some time this morning."

Then she answered the inspector's questions, "That's one of the reasons the IT people were so worried James. Whatever happened to our computers also affected the backups. It was that thorough. As for hardcopy, I have a few things. I did make a printout of the fingerprint results after matching them manually, but the fact that the computer records no longer agree means there's no way to verify the printout's accuracy."

That left me with another question, "If you have hardcopy of both sets of prints from before the hack, did you compare that against the post-hack prints? I'm curious what changed. Did they edit the prints in Detective Armstrong's file? Or did they change Jane Doe's prints? Or both?"

O'Conner reminded me, "I had to get new scans from the body since my previous records were lost. So it must be the data in Armstrong's file that's been corrupted."

"Not necessarily," I replied. "Like I said, if we're talking about magic then all bets are off. And I did overhear them talking about 'cleansing' the body."

That left the doctor with another uncomfortable look on her face. Then she sighed, "I'll look into that later today."

"When do you think the DNA results will arrive?" Carter asked his doctor friend. "Is it worth our time to wait for them?"

She replied, "Any time between now and noon."

The inspector looked to me and suggested, "Since we're already here Sharpe, did you want to see any of the bodies for yourself?"

I nodded, "Very well. If we're waiting for the results then we may as well do something productive."

Dr. O'Conner reached for her desk phone as she commented, "You won't need me for that, and thanks to this fiasco I've got more than enough to keep me busy."

"Sally?" she added in to the handset, "Would you come to my office please?"

She hung up again without waiting for a reply as she told us, "She'll be here in a moment to show you the bodies."

"Thank you doctor," I replied.

Carter nodded, "Thanks Maureen. Sorry for all the extra work we've caused you."

"Nonsense James," the older woman replied. "I'm just glad you're safe. Especially after hearing what happened to you Friday night."

Just then there was a knock, followed immediately by the door swinging open behind us. Then a young woman's voice exclaimed, "Oh bloody hell it's the filth! Whatever they said it's all lies, I didn't do it."

My eyebrows shot up as I turned to see a short attractive full-figured young woman standing in the doorway.

I'd guess her height at no more than a hundred and sixty centimetres, and her age to be in her late-twenties. As for her style that was best summed up in a single word, goth. Her jet black hair was in a short messy bob, she wore black lipstick and dark makeup that stood out on her pale skin. And her clothes were all black too, from the big military-style boots to the leggings to the tight knee-length dress she was wearing. She even had a black leather collar around her neck, adorned with some shiny silver-coloured spikes.

And it only took me a moment to realize neither Carter or O'Conner seemed the least bit surprised by the young woman's appearance, or her statement.

In fact the ME just rolled her eyes and responded, "Sorry Sally, I'll take the inspector's word over yours any day of the week. Would you mind showing the officers to our Janes Doe one through six please?"

"Officers?" the goth asked as she looked at me.

Inspector Carter spoke up at that point with the introductions, "This is Detective Trillium Sharpe. And that is Sally Stewart."

Miss Stewart raised an eyebrow as she looked me over, "Dang! I didn't know they made cops this cute. In light of this new development I retract my earlier 'filth' comment."

"Don't mind Sally," Dr. O'Conner told me. "But do please go with her, so I can get back to work."