The Devil's Mark: A DI Graves thriller #Book Three Read online

  THE DEVIL'S MARK

  A DI GRAVES THRILLER #BOOK THREE

  WD JACKSON-SMART

  Copyright © 2022 WD Jackson-Smart

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  The right of WD Jackson-Smart to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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  First published in 2022 by Bloodhound Books.

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  Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publisher or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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  www.bloodhoundbooks.com

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  Print ISBN: 978-1-5040-8008-8

  CONTENTS

  Love best-selling fiction?

  Also by WD Jackson-Smart

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  A note from the publisher

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  ALSO BY WD JACKSON-SMART

  The DI Graves series

  The Demons Beneath (Book 1)

  From Inside The House (Book 2)

  CHAPTER ONE

  The thudding of her trainers hitting the concrete was extremely satisfying as she let the beat from her headphones flood over her. The morning was sunny, but cold: winter hadn’t yet broken but it was edging closer towards spring – finally. It was perfect for a run. Fresh, bracing.

  A combination of guilt about Christmas over-indulgence and the thought of Natalie Adams – a ferociously athletic woman in her yoga class – looking smug had spurred Nicola Clement into starting running again. She had bought new Nikes in the January sale, treated herself to some new purple and blue running leggings and a better sports bra, and had already clocked up five decent runs since Christmas. She was even using an app to track her routes, times and calories.

  As she took a corner, Calvin Harris spurring her on, Nicola felt smug herself. Hyde Park was beautifully quiet, with barely another soul out and about, yet here she was keeping up her New Year’s resolution of improving her health and fitness while others were getting ready for work or still in bed. She couldn’t help smiling. Maybe next time she went to yoga she’d even fish for a compliment from Natalie or the painfully attractive cardio-pump instructor Tony.

  Nicola unzipped her jacket, instantly feeling refreshed as the cold air chilled her sweat. She had been going for twenty minutes and had started to heat up.

  After a speedy walk to the park, her run had started at the entrance to Queensway Tube – the one closest to her flat. She had run past Kensington Palace, across the park to the art gallery and Princess Diana memorial fountain, over the Serpentine, and now looping back up towards Lancaster Gate when she realised she needed the toilet.

  Slowing down a little, Nicola considered her options. She wasn’t close enough to any of the public toilets, and the Sackler Gallery wasn’t yet open. She stopped, took a deep breath and surveyed her surroundings while she jogged on the spot. There was no one in sight.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said to herself. After another quick double-check to make sure she was alone, Nicola stepped off the path and into the trees and hedges to her left. Even though it was winter, there were still a lot of leaves to contend with. Nicola pushed her way through them, trying to find the ideal spot. She needed somewhere far enough from the path not to be visible in case anyone passed by. Ahead of her was a small clearing in the undergrowth. As quickly as she could, Nicola pulled down her leggings and peed, immediately feeling embarrassed. She hated doing it and felt thoroughly self-conscious but it was over in seconds and she hadn’t been spotted. She would be able to emerge from the trees and continue her run, no one any the wiser.

  Nicola was about to head back in the direction of the path when a waft of wind washed such a horrid stench towards her that she coughed and slapped a hand over her mouth and nose. The smell was disgusting but not too unfamiliar – kind of like the roast chicken carcass she had left in her kitchen bin for too long the other week.

  Her mind ran through a few scenarios. It could be a dead animal. Maybe a dead person. Neither was something she wanted to see, especially the latter. It could also be a homeless person. Homeless people apparently slept out in parks. She’d read about it in the paper. The smell still threatening to make her gag, Nicola made a decision. She knew it would bug her if she didn’t find out what was causing it. Moving in the opposite direction to where she had come off the path, she made her way past a few more trees. The smell grew stronger.

  ‘Oh God, Nicola, what the fuck are you doing?’ she muttered, worried that the organic cereal bar she had eaten before leaving the house would make a reappearance.

  In the thick line of hedging in front of her was a gap – one that didn’t look entirely natural. It looked like someone had cut away a load of branches quite deliberately. More curious despite the smell, she reached the gap. After a second’s pause she pushed her way through into the clearing. After just a few seconds, what she saw made her turn away and vomit. She spat out bile and oat chunks onto the ground.

  Taking slow, deep breaths, Nicola turned back to what had caused her to be sick.

  The clearing was small, perhaps six metres square. In the centre was a wooden post, taller than her, pointing to the sky. Projecting out from either side of it were more pieces of wood, four either side, like ribs. And from each wooden rib hung a human body part – an arm, a leg, a partial ribcage, strings of organs that she didn’t attempt to identify. Nearly every inch of the wooden structure had been covered in what she assumed was blood, dark where it had soaked in and pretty much dry.

  Nicola couldn’t believe her eyes. She’d heard about joggers stumbling upon bodies before, even seen it happen on some crime show or other, but this was something else – next-level fucked up. She didn’t even have the words for it. Her skin crawled; she was repulsed and fascinated in equal measure.

  Pulling her phone from her arm strap, trying not to be sick again, Nicola filmed the structure in front of her, getting as close as she dared, capturing it from a number of angles and zooming in to some of its more gory features. Next she called the police, giving them her approximate location, based on the GPS on her phone. Last, as she made her way back to the path to find air that didn’t reek of death, she googled the Daily Mail’s news tip hotline and placed a call. She informed the man who answered that she had one hell of an exclusive that he would most certainly want to pay for.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘This is different,’ Detective Inspector Daniel Graves said, standing as far back as he could from the remains, pulling his coat collar up over his nose and mouth to act as a barrier between him and the smell. He could feel the hedge touching his back. He had rubbed Vicks under his nose, a trick he had been taught by a morgue attendee. But it was only partially working, because he could still smell the rotting flesh only metres from him.

  ‘Reckon the Blair Witch did it?’ DI Charlie Palmer said, a smirk on his face.

  Daniel hadn’t seen any of the films but did know they had something to do with twigs fashioned into strange shapes and people dying in the woods.

  ‘You know I don’t like horror movies. Too much horror in the real world,’ Daniel answered, gesturing at the effigy. ‘Case in point.’

  ‘You should – horror films are fun. And there’s evidence that people actually watch them specifically because the real world is such a nightmare. They act as a kind of release.’

  ‘If you say so. Not so fun when it’s real, though.’

  ‘Well, no, it’s pretty fucking grim. What are we thinking? Some sort of weird ritual murder?’ Charlie asked, getting closer to the strange wooden structure while attempting to stay out of the way of the crime scene photographer.

  ‘That’s my guess at the moment,’ Daniel said, although in truth he had no idea what to think. The ribcage-shaped structure with pieces of a person strung up on it like baubles on a Christmas tree was like nothing he’d ever seen before. He was a little surprised he hadn’t been
sick. Perhaps he was finally getting more resilient, though he wasn’t convinced that was entirely a good thing.

  ‘It doesn’t seem like it was left here to be found,’ Daniel continued, looking around at the location. ‘This little clearing, the wall of hedges – it’s surprisingly well hidden, given that we’re standing in the middle of London in a busy, popular park. It was dumb luck that the runner found it – if you can call discovering something like this lucky.’

  ‘Nicola Clement. Claims she needed to urinate while out jogging, so was looking for some privacy among the trees. She noticed the smell and curiosity got the better of her.’

  ‘How could she not notice it? It’s putrid,’ Daniel said, pulling a face. Again he pulled his collar closer to his face, although he knew it wouldn’t really help. If eucalyptus rub wasn’t helping, a bit of fabric in front of his nose definitely wouldn’t cut it.

  ‘So someone brought the victim here, did their ritual and then – what? Just left? Job done, off they go?’

  ‘I guess so. Although I don’t think they brought the victim here necessarily, unless they took parts of the body away with them. There are no massive splashes of blood in the surrounding vicinity, and it looks like we’re missing a few pieces.’

  Though the remains had not yet been touched by any of the investigation team, it was obvious that there were not enough parts to comprise a full human. The head was noticeably absent, for starters.

  ‘So you think they brought the pieces with them? Just hauled over some body parts in a bag or a collection of Tupperware?’ Charlie asked. ‘We need to find out where this person was killed.’

  ‘That’s just one of a million things we need to find out. I want to know who the victim is,’ Daniel said. ‘The parts might not even be all from one victim.’

  He had yet to spot anyone from the coroner’s office who might be able to shed some light on identity, but he knew someone would be nearby. The space in the clearing was limited and there were a lot of other people outside the circle of trees, including officers trying to keep the area off-limits to anyone passing by in the park. A perimeter had been set up, but Daniel was glad the killer had decided to be so private. It made his life easier. It also prevented news teams from getting any pictures, though it wouldn’t have surprised him if a drone was hovering somewhere overhead.

  ‘And hopefully that might tell us who did it. I can’t even begin to fathom a motive right now,’ Charlie stated.

  ‘Me either. Not a sane one, at least,’ Daniel admitted.

  ‘Excuse me, Detectives?’ came a polite voice with a mild Scottish accent. They turned away from the body parts tree to see who had entered the wooded circle of death. The woman in front of them was small and petite, Japanese, and dressed very formally in a black trouser suit with a light pink shirt and a knee-length grey winter coat. Daniel thought she looked quite young to be at a crime scene: she had a ‘fresh out of university’ quality about her.

  ‘Hi, can we help?’ he said.

  ‘You’re the detectives on this case, right? I’m sure you can help if so,’ the woman said with a confident smile. ‘I’m Emi Kobayashi. I just started working under Stephanie Mitchum.’ She thrust out a hand in greeting, and Daniel and Charlie shook it in turn.

  ‘Lucky you. How’s that going?’ Charlie asked, raising one eyebrow.

  ‘It’s good. Challenging,’ Emi said thoughtfully.

  ‘Very diplomatic answer.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Emi. I’m DI Daniel Graves, and this is DI Charlie Palmer. You must be new. I take it you’re here on behalf of the coroner’s office?’

  ‘Yes. Miss Mitchum is busy and I am new, yes, but I promise I’m more qualified than I may appear. I’m heading up this one from our side.’

  Daniel heard Charlie mutter something under his breath, but ignored him. Daniel felt some relief too, though. Kobayashi seemed to have a friendlier disposition than her boss, which would make a refreshing change.

  ‘Perfect – we look forward to working with you. I believe the CSI team has yet to do a thorough analysis?’

  Emi nodded.

  ‘In which case, can you let us know as soon as everything has been catalogued? And let us know if you are able to ID our victim. Or victims, if it turns out to be remains from multiple sources,’ Daniel said.

  ‘Plus tell us anything else you find out about the remains. Cause of death, stray particles, that sort of thing,’ Charlie added.

  ‘Don’t worry, Detectives,’ Emi answered. ‘Like I said, I know what I’m doing. You’ll get a full and detailed report as soon as it’s ready.’

  ‘Great stuff,’ Charlie said with a smile. ‘Shall we, Graves? I’m not sure what else we can do here while we wait for Miss Kobayashi’s report.’

  Daniel nodded his agreement. They had next steps to take, of course. They needed to speak to the park management company, for a start, and get CCTV footage from the area. He also thought it might prove useful to ask a small team to look into similar cases – murders that involved anything relating to ritualistic behaviours or iconography.

  There wasn’t anything else they could do at the crime scene. The remains had been well hidden and he knew they wouldn’t find any witnesses. Whatever had happened in the closed-off circle of hedges had probably occurred overnight.

  Daniel led the way out of the enclosed area, nodding a hello to an officer who had offered a ‘Morning, Detectives’ to them.

  ‘Think there’s any point talking to Nicola Clement any more?’ Charlie asked once they were outside the cordoned-off area.

  ‘Probably not, at the moment. She found the body, but that’s it. Not sure what else she could tell us. She told the officer who got her statement that she’s already contacted the Daily Mail. Clearly she’s happy to get some cash as a sort of messed-up finder’s fee, but I highly doubt she knows anything. I think we should go and talk to the park management people. There was at least one person from the park team here earlier, but I didn’t catch a name and I can’t remember for the life of me what they looked like.’

  ‘She’s already contacted the press? What an opportunist. That’ll cause us a few headaches. And you know, I think you were right that time you joked you had partial face-blindness. Good job we don’t rely on you to point out suspects in line-ups, huh?’ Charlie laughed, jamming his hands into the pockets of his pea coat.

  ‘Told you.’

  After some googling, Daniel found the Royal Parks website and a contact number. It turned out they were close to the Old Police House, which served as the park lodge. A woman named Helen answered and told Daniel she had been expecting them, that they could head over right away.

  ‘Dammit,’ Charlie said. ‘I was hoping to get a bite to eat first. I skipped breakfast.’

  ‘Seriously – you’re hungry after seeing that?’ Daniel gestured in the direction of the crime scene.