Chapter Text
You splashed water on your face and opened your eyes, looking up at yourself in the mirror. You watched the water trickle down your nose and into the basin and sighed. You didn't think much, just continued washing your face as you did every night before you went to get dressed and head out to work. For a second, you got annoyed about having signed a contract that said you were open to work nights, but quickly let it go since there was no use getting worked up about it before a twelve hour shift of lifting drunks and junkies and filling out paperwork.
You flicked the light off and just stood in the doorway, staring at the blank wall in front of you. It had been like this since you could remember. You would sometimes just stop and stare at things, but your mind never went anywhere, it stayed right there in the moment. You supposed maybe you needed a moment sometimes to just stand still. But you couldn't stand still forever. Begrudgingly, you turned and shuffled back to your bedroom, where your uniform was lying over a chair in the corner - an infinite reminder of the path you had chosen and the life you were bound to because of it.
Just as you were sat down and about to pull your trousers on, your phone lit up with an incoming call. You abandoned your trousers and leaned over to the side table, picking up your phone with slightly damp hands. You took a breath as you watched the call ring again and, against your better judgement, answered it.
"Hello?" You answered, reaching for your trousers again. "How fast can you get to the airport?" Came an instant question from your Chief Constable. Your hand stopped midair as you processed the abrupt and confusing question. Your eyebrows furrowed, "Which one?" You asked. "Any". You thought briefly. "I can get to the city in thirty" You offered, unconsciously shrugging your shoulders. "Right. I want you to pack enough clothes for three months and meet me at the airport in thirty minutes. I'll explain everything when I see you". You looked at your feet for a moment, "No bother" You said before the call ended.
Mumbling to yourself, you dragged your big suitcase out of the hall cupboard and started throwing clothes into it. "Airport? What the fuck?" You muttered, dumping your entire underwear drawer into the suitcase. Your Chief Constable had asked strange things of you before, like asking you to go and walk around a generally quiet housing estate for two hours, only to run into no activity except the ice cream man coming along - whom you promptly bought a 99 and a bottle of water off before continuing your walk. But this was a whole different level of strange. If there was a security issue at the airport, why was he asking you to pack two months worth of clothes?
After a quick phone call to your local taxi company, and a painful journey down five flights of stairs with your suitcase, you got into the taxi. "City airport, mate" You muttered, double checking your handbag to make sure you had everything. The taxi pulled away from your flat building and you leaned back in the seat, staring out the window. "Late night flight?" The driver asked. You shrugged, "Aye" You replied in a mumble. The driver hummed, "Away on your holidays?" He asked. "Work" You correct. The driver glanced at you in the mirror, confused, "At this time of night?" He asked. You snorted a laugh, "Being a peeler has you doing odd shit at odd hours all the time" You responded. The driver nodded, "Ah, get ya now".
As the taxi pulled up in front of the airport, you spotted your Chief Constable and another constable standing waiting. "Looks like you're needed" The driver chuckled as he pulled in to a drop-off spot. You sighed, "Wish I wasn't" You said as the constable opened the boot of the taxi, retrieving your suitcase. You handed him forty pound, "Thanks a million" You said as you got out of the car. "Be safe" You smiled and closed the door, breathing in the fresh night air. The boot closed and the taxi driver drove off, and you waved to him.
"Well?" You asked as you approached your Chief Constable, who started walking towards the airport with the constable trailing behind you both with your suitcase in tow. "There's been a murder in London" Your Chief Constable informed as the three of you entered the airport, where an airport security officer met you and brought you through a side door. "What's it got to do with us?" You asked. Chief Constable sighed, rubbing a hand through his thinning hair, "It's a mass murder" He specified. You looked at him, and he made a face, "Well, the Yard are putting it as a 'mass suicide' for now" He added on, muttering quietly. You nodded slowly, "Again, what's it to do with us?" You asked as you were lead through dimly lit corridors, presumably past security and duty free. "They were Northern citizens, and they think it's doing of another one".
That fresh night air hit again as the security officer took the three of you straight out onto the runway, leading you towards what seemed like a private jet. You raised your eyebrows at it. "Look, I told the Yard that it's their problem because technically, a Northern citizen is still a British citizen - but they didn't want to hear it and want someone over to assist" Chief Constable said, waving his hands around, which gave off the impression he wasn't really all in on the idea of sending you to London. You sighed as you both stopped at the foot of the plane steps, and Chief Constable turned to you, face serious. "Listen. Now, this is just what I've heard, but I've been told Sherlock Holmes has taken interest in this case" He said. You stared at him blankly for a second, "If they have Sherlock Holmes interested, why do they want one of us?" You asked. Chief Constable just shook his head, "I don't know" He admitted and looked at his watch, then the plane. "You better get boarded. They want you as soon as possible" He said and you nodded.
As you climbed the steps into the private jet, Chief Constable called out your name, and you turned around - secretly hoping he would tell you just to go home and he would get someone else to go. Instead, he stared at you grimly, "Be careful over there, and don't fuck about" He said, the last words said with just a fragment of a grin. You smiled, "Your orders, sir" You said and boarded the plane.
The plane was small inside, but it was just what you expected a private jet to look like on the inside. It was obviously meant to sit maybe ten or eleven people, but you simply sat yourself down at a table and immediately jumped at how comfortable the seat was. You leaned back and breathed, blinking a few times as you heard the door shut and the pilot prepare to taxi the runway. You set your handbag aside and buckled your seatbelt, preparing for a quiet flight. But you raised your eyebrows as an air hostess came along with a menu, smiling brightly as if it wasn't the middle of the night. "This is our menu of in-flight meals if you would like one" She said, handing you the menu before glancing out the window before back at you, "Once we take off I'll bring you some water" She said and walked away again. You sat staring at the menu as you felt the plane start to move, confused by the luxury of it all.
As the plane levelled out, the air hostess came back with a bottle of water and a glass. As she set it down, she looked at you, "Strange, right?" She asked. You looked up from the menu, and she gestured around you both, "Being on a private jet at this time of night" She added. You nodded, "I thought I had seen everything, but clearly not" You chuckled as you closed the menu. She giggled as she took the menu, "Would you like anything to eat?" She asked. You nodded, "Can I have the breakfast wrap please?" You asked. The air hostess nodded, "Not a bother. I'll have that out in a moment" She said and disappeared again. You sighed and leaned back in your seat, bathing in how comfortable it was. You reached into your bag and retrieved your phone, opening it and opening some silly offline game you had downloaded for when work got boring.
The air hostess came back with your breakfast wrap on a plate, setting it down in front of you. "Anything else?" She asked. You shook your head, "No thank you. But- how long is this flight?" You asked. The air hostess thought for a second, "About thirty minutes" She responded. You nodded slowly, "Quick" You muttered, setting your phone down. The air hostess shrugged, "The pilot has strict instructions to get you to London as soon as possible" She replied before walking away. You sat eating quietly, thinking about the very brief and non-descriptive words of your Chief Constable.
A citizen of Northern Ireland was a British citizen, therefore could be dealt with by any police force in Britain, so you had no clue as to why Scotland Yard were so eager to have someone from the PSNI over to assist in their investigation - and why you had been chosen out of all people. You were a Detective Superintendent, but surely they could've sent out the Chief Detective Constable, or even a Detective Inspector. If it was so serious, why not send out someone more higher-ranking than yourself, or if it wasn't that serious why not send out someone less? But the words 'mass murder' made you think it was pretty serious, and the way your Chief Constable had said 'the Yard are putting it as a 'mass suicide' for now' itched your brain into thinking it was way worse than you could even imagine. You blinked and stopped thinking about it, paying more attention to how nice the breakfast wrap actually was.
As the plane landed and taxied around the runway, you spotted two figures waiting near a door at the terminal. Your best guess was that they were from Scotland Yard, and were here to whisk you away to the crime scene. The air hostess came back, "Ready?" She asked as she sat in the seat opposite you. You shook your head, "Don't even know what's happening. Just doing whatever I'm told" You mumbled. She hummed and looked out the window, "Did they say how long you're here for?" She asked. You shook your head again, "Got told to pack clothes for two months, but God knows how long I'll be here for" You replied and checked everything was in your bag as the plane came to a stop. The air hostess looked at you, "Well, I hope everything goes okay" She said as you both got up. You nodded, "Thank you" You replied as the steps lowered down.
As your feet hit the tarmac, one of the officers stepped forward, "Morning, Detective Superintendent" He greeted, shaking your hand. "I'm Constable Jones, and that's my colleague, Constable Harrington" He gestured to the officer retrieving your suitcase. You nodded, "So, what's the deal?" You asked as another security officer led the three of you through a door. Constable Jones sighed and shook his head, "I don't know much, ma'am. But from what I've heard, it's not a pleasant sight" He muttered and you shrugged, "Mass murder is never a good sight" You replied and smiled slightly at your half-joke. "Nothing at all to tell me?" You asked as you walked through lit corridors to the front of the airport. Constable Jones shook his head, "Nothing, ma'am. All I've been told is to tell you to ask for Detective Inspector Lestrade when you get there" He explained. You nodded, "And he is?" You asked curiously. Constable Jones chuckled, "He's probably not going to be very happy".
Constable Jones and Constable Harrington left you off at the top of the street, as the whole street had been cordoned off. You shoved your phone and cigarettes into your jacket pockets and approached the police officers at the tape. You showed them your badge and one lifted the tape, letting you walk under. You wondered through the chaos, residents left and right in tears, giving statements to police and one reporter being carried away by officers, yelling about rights and whatnot. You got to the house, and an officer stepped in your way, blocking the door. You stared at him for a moment before holding up your badge, "Detective Inspector Lestrade. Where is he". The officer looked at your badge for a moment before guiding you to the door, stopping you for a moment, "Detective Inspector!" He hollered before turning to you, "Are you okay putting on a paper suit and shoes?" He asked. You nodded and began putting them on, tying your hair back into a ponytail.
"-if this is another one not knowing what to do, I swear to God". You looked up from zipping up your paper suit as a man in a paper suit with grey hair and a fed up aura came down the stairs. He got to the bottom and looked at you, and his face morphed into confusion. "Who's this?" He asked, looking at his constable. Before the constable could speak, you spoke first, "Detective Superintendent from the Northern Ireland Police Service. I've been requested" You said, raising an eyebrow. The man stared for a moment longer before extending his hand, "Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade" He said as you shook his hand. He sighed and gestured for you to follow him, "You might want to brace yourself".
"Call came in around half eleven this evening from a concerned neighbour reporting a small fire in the kitchen downstairs" Greg explained as you followed him upstairs. You hummed, "Fire from what?" You asked and he sighed, "Gas stove left on, caught a tea towel and lit fire" He muttered and stopped at the top of the stairs. "Fire brigade come out, nobody answers, so they put in the door and attend to the fire. Then someone came up the stairs to see if the family were asleep and...well" He trailed off before leading you to a door guarded by officers.
You walked in and your heart sank. The room itself was completely bare, not even carpet on the floors just wood and peeling wallpaper and paint and one lone lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Alongside the lightbulb was twenty odd people. You looked around, speechless for a moment. "How many?" You finally asked. Greg rubbed his forehead, "Twenty nine" He replied quietly. You leaned on the doorframe and looked around at the dangling corpses, hanging idle from industrial grade ropes. "Who lives here?" You asked, looking at Greg. He shrugged, "Nobody. House is owned by a letting company who were renovating it, say they haven't even put it on the market yet" He answered. You nodded and stood straight again, sighing, "I knew I should've let that call go to voicemail" You muttered before walking into the room, navigating your way through pairs of feet.
"All this been photographed?" You asked. Greg nodded, "All photographed and marked" He confirmed. You hummed, "What about forensics?". Greg scoffed, "Called to say they're held up in traffic, won't be here for another hour". You looked at him, "Traffic? At this hour?" You asked. Greg smiled at you, "You'll learn a lot about London. Traffic never stops no matter what time it is" He said. You walked through the room, examining every body carefully. You looked around the floor, "Got a ladder?" You asked. Greg looked out into the hallway, "Big one?" He asked. "Big enough to have me at their heads" You replied. Greg disappeared and came back with a ladder, coming over to you with it and setting it up. He offered his hand, and you took it as you climbed up until your head hit the ceiling. "Soith" You mumbled. Greg raised an eyebrow, "What's that?" He asked as you looked around. "Irish" You mumbled back.
You leaned closed and inspected the rope around one mans neck. You stared at how hard the rope was digging into his skin, "How much would you say this guy weighs?" You asked, looking at the ceiling. Greg shrugged, "190 pounds?" He guessed. You hummed, "I've seen people hang themselves. This rope is digging way too hard into his throat for him to weigh the normal" You said as you turned and inspected the man next to him. Greg raised an eyebrow, "So he's obese?" He asked. You shook your head, "They don't look obese, do they?" You replied. Greg shrugged and looked around, "So, you see murders over there often?" He asked. You scoffed, "Almost everyday. But not like this, not since the mother and baby homes graves were discovered" You muttered, noticing the same tension in the rope with the other man.
You climbed down and looked up, "Somethings weighing them down" You said. Greg looked at you, "Like what? A cinder block we missed?" He scoffed. You glared at him, "No" You said and reached up, unbuttoning one of the corpses shirts. Greg watched you like you were crazy, even taking a step back. You stared at the corpses bare chest, at the clearly new scar leading from the middle of the collar bone down to the crotch. "Not even a day old, I'd say" You muttered and moved around the room, unbuttoning and lifting shirts and finding the exact same scar on ever single corpse.
You came back to stand with Greg, who had moved back to the door. "I want them sent in for autopsy's - all of them" You said, leaning on the doorframe. Greg looked at you, "Why?" He asked. You chewed the inside of your mouth, "There's something inside them, weighing them down" You said and pointed at the floor, "See how there's no chair, or any kind of platform" You pointed out. Greg nodded slowly, then you noticed it dawn on him. "Twenty nine can't hang themselves without having to stand on something. And twenty nine people don't appear, all dead, with the same scar that isn't consistent with any kind of surgery" You said and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.
"This is mass murder, and whoever did it is either a psychopath...or wanted to make it look like mass suicide".
"And what route are you going for?".
"...Psychopath".
"What makes you say that?".
"Everyones hung at a different height so their feet are all level. Only a complete lunitic pays that much attention".