Insane - Who Are You To Judge? (Gripping Psychological Thriller)

Chapter 60 - Harry

The suffocating stench of death is impossible to truly get rid of, once it's seeped through into the very foundations of a house.

A body needs only be festering for a few hours and you can kiss your dreams of a lavender scented home goodbye.

This place has no hope, Harry thinks whilst walking around the newly-built three-storey house. Four bodies in here? No way is that smell ever coming out.

He and James are doing another sweep of the most recent GR scene, to see if perhaps they left any more clues. The phone call put into 999 was extremely cryptic and the two of them can't figure out what they mean. But they are sure their choice of words is important.

"I've checked upstairs," James bellows down. "I can't find anything up there."

"Okay, help me have a look down here."

The forensics team have done a good job at cleaning up the mess that was found here ten days ago, but Harry can still see the ghost of what was. He can still see the young woman elegantly lying across the sofa. He can still see the three other women, neatly placed next to each other with their arms crossed over their chests. He can still see the pools of dark, thick fluid that was forming around their heads. He remembers it almost like a halo, like a sign that they are in a better place, now.

"Harry, I think I've got something."

"Huh?" Harry seems surprised and rushes into the kitchen to find James crouched down in the corner. "What have you found?"

"I think it's a hair." James stretches his hand out behind him. "Do me a favour, will you give me your gloves, I haven't got mine."

Shrugging, Harry replies, "Sorry, mate. Martha keeps nicking mine to do the gardening."

James sighs, pulls his sleeves over his hands and picks up the hair. He squints to get a clearer view, but it does him no good.

Harry places a small magnifying glass in front of James's face, James smiles at him and puts it between him and the hair.

"It looks dark and coarse. That doesn't match any of the women." James stares at it a little longer. "And it's short."

"Well," Harry interjects, "it may just be my bad eyesight, but I can't see a root on there – that means it must have snapped off. So I suppose the length doesn't really matter much."

James agrees and hurls himself back up. "Come on, let's get this back to the station so it can be analysed."

"Are you sure?" Harry asks. "Are you sure we've checked this place thoroughly?"

"Yeah, we've gone through it five times over. We've got what we came for – something we can work with. Let's head back."

Although he seems slightly reluctant, Harry follows James to the front door, but changes course and goes back into the living room.

"Mate, what are you doing?" James moans while trailing after him.

"I just thought I saw..." His voice fades out and he pushes the sofa away from the door a few inches. "There." He points to the wall that is now revealed.

James bends down to inspect it.

There are etchings in the wall. Since the wall is painted cream, they are faint and difficult to make sense of, but once they study them for a few minutes, it becomes clear.

The drawing seems to tell a story. There is an outline of two pigs chasing a rabbit, but not far behind them is a cloaked figure holding a scythe. Below this is another story of the pigs lying on the ground with crosses for eyes – and the scythe is above them. The final sketch is of three bear heads.

"Now," James says, his eyes fixed on the drawings. "What the hell does he mean by this?"