Copycat

by Diane Saxon

  Surprised, Jenna unhooked Airwaves from her belt and raised the radio to her mouth. ‘Juliette Alpha 27, can you patch me through to PC Donna McGuire?’

  When the static cleared, she spoke again. ‘Donna, it’s DS Morgan here.’

  ‘Sarg.’

  ‘Are you with Mrs Mooney right now?’

  A low whispered response came. ‘No, I’m in the kitchen making a cup of tea for her. The paramedics are with her.’

  ‘Donna, I need you to do something for me. It’s not going to be easy, but it is urgent.’

  A quick draw of breath preceded her answer. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Would you ask Mrs Mooney if she knew who the man on the kitchen floor was?’

  The soft sound of Donna sucking in her breath came over Airwaves, followed by a moment of silence. Jenna glanced at Mason and Ryan, deciding which one of the three of them would be better placed to do the job when the radio crackled back to life. ‘Give me a minute, boss.’

  Jenna plucked her bottom lip between her thumb and forefinger as she waited in the silence, the only sound the soft shuffle of the plastic bags covering Jim’s shoes and the gentle suction of blood and bleach as he stepped around the victim, gathering miniscule swabs of evidence.

  ‘Jim.’

  He looked up from his position on the floor. ‘DS Morgan.’

  ‘I can’t see we can be of any use now.’ She looked towards the front door where reinforcements were suiting up in their PPE. ‘Looks like your team are all arriving and we’re only going to be underfoot.’

  His lined face looked wearier than she’d noticed before. The rising death toll had to have an impact on his soul as he took ownership of each victim and saw the whole process through. Respect and tenderness always emanated from Jim.

  Jenna jumped as Airwaves came back to life. ‘Sarg?’

  Jenna depressed the button. ‘Donna, go ahead.’

  Donna dropped her voice to a mere whisper. ‘Mrs Mooney says she doesn’t have a clue who the man on the floor was, but she wished he was dead rather than her daughter. She confirmed that Ellie was on a dating app and that she’d been arranging to meet up with someone, but Mrs Mooney couldn’t remember who. She said she was sure she hadn’t made any arrangements yet. She’d normally tell her mum, so she knew she was safe.’

  ‘Okay, thanks, Donna.’

  ‘One more thing…’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Mrs Mooney said Ellie was convinced someone had been inside her house. That she had a stalker.’

  38

  Wednesday 12 February, 11:50 hrs

  Adrenaline shot through her veins as she strode through the doors of the Princess Royal Hospital A&E, the fast clack of her boots smacking against the shiny, tiled floor as she headed straight for the triage office. If she broke into a run, she’d be stopped and she didn’t want that, nor did she want to draw attention to herself.

  Mason and Ryan matched her pace, each side of her shoulders. When she’d radioed ahead to speak with PC Massey, she’d had no reply. With the triage office empty, Jenna turned a sharp left and headed for the check-in desk. She whipped her ID from her belt and held it at the window.

  ‘DS Jenna Morgan.’ She didn’t bother to introduce the others; she didn’t have time. ‘A man was just brought in by the paramedics, accompanied by a police officer. I don’t know the man’s name.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but without the man’s name…’ The receptionist flushed, her plump cheeks wobbled as Jenna waited for a reply. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t help you.’

  Jenna ground her teeth, on the point of snapping. ‘Could you please point me in the direction of someone who can?’

  Mason leaned over her shoulder and grinned. ‘It’s important, a matter of life or death.’

  The woman almost fell off her chair as she pushed it back from the desk and came to her feet all in one clumsy motion. ‘I’ll get someone. I’ll get…’

  Rather than wait for the woman to return, Jenna spun on her heel and followed her as she came out of the office and took off on a fast trot through the doors into the inner sanctum of A&E.

  Jenna held her badge high so it could be seen by any interested parties.

  Quiet at that time of the morning, Jenna managed to keep sight of the woman who looked as though she was about to disappear down a rabbit hole at any moment.

  As she pulled up to the nurses’ station, Jenna leaned in. ‘Hi, I’m DS Jenna Morgan. I’m looking for a man who has just been brought in in the last half hour, possible knife wound, accompanied by a PC. Do you have any idea where he might be?’ Prepared to walk through cubicles, stripping back curtains, Jenna gave them a millisecond of a chance.

  The young male nurse on the other side of the desk smiled up at her, his brilliant whitened teeth glowed in the bright, electric lights. ‘Absolutely. Come this way.’

  Aware of her shadows, Mason and Ryan, Jenna followed the nurse as he reached out for a green curtain surrounding one of the cubicles and whipped it back.

  All four of them stared at the empty area.

  Jenna lowered her head to her hands to scrape them down her face. ‘Where the hell is he?’

  Surprise flitted through the nurse’s eyes as he turned to meet her gaze. ‘He was here less than five minutes ago. I was taking his blood pressure and temperature.’

  ‘Where was my officer?’

  Flustered, the nurse held onto the hem of his scrubs tabard and jerked it down, then smoothed his hands over his stomach. ‘He went for a coffee while I conducted the tests.’

  Jenna pushed her tongue into the side of her cheek while she tried not to raise her voice. ‘Did you see him return?’

  The nurse shook his head. ‘No.’

  Irritation sparked as Jenna stared at the nurse. ‘Have you lost your patient?’

  The nurse whipped his head up and met Jenna’s hard eyed stare with one of his own. ‘Have you lost your suspect, love?’

  Mouth twitching upwards, a secret admiration stirred at the nurse’s comeback. He’d take no shit. Not from anyone.

  Jenna rubbed her fingers over her mouth, just about to reply, when a bed trolley pushed by a porter swept around the corner, a police officer on one side, a man in full blue scrubs on the other.

  The nurse raised a hand and patted his own chest, his relief palpable.

  Jenna almost sagged against the wall herself as she puffed out a breath and smiled at PC Massey. ‘Hey, Phil, how’s it going?’

  ‘Good.’ Oblivious of the momentary panic, PC Massey glanced around at the small crowd waiting for him. A flash of surprise raced across his face. ‘We needed a quick X-ray to make sure the knife hadn’t gone into the bone.’

  Jenna sucked in her breath as she cruised her gaze over the bruised and battered comatose figure on the trolley. Whatever had happened, someone had made a good job of beating the crap out of him.

  She glanced away and forced a reassuring smile for PC Massey, then turned her attention to the doctor as the porter wheeled the patient into the empty cubicle, flicked on the brake with his foot and left them.

  ‘Doctor…’ she squinted at his name badge, ‘Jones. Hi, I’m DS Jenna Morgan, this is DC Ellis and DC Downey. Could you give me an update on this patient?’

  His patient his first priority, the doctor spoke over his shoulder as he checked the IV line. ‘Stab wound victim, arrived approximately,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘fifty minutes ago. Main priority was to stabilise the patient, get a line in for the IV, which is set up, and a blood transfusion, we’re just waiting on bloods for him now. He’s lost a lot.’

  Not as much as his victim, Jenna was almost tempted to inform him. But it was none of the doctor’s business. He was there to do his job. To preserve life, which he was doing. The police had passed that responsibility over to him, it was now Jenna’s job to protect and serve.

  She stepped closer to the bed as the doctor finished and turned to pick up his notes. ‘What else?’ She squinted down at the inert patient.

 
; ‘I’ve irrigated the wound. As there was no weapon to check, we’ve X-rayed his shoulder to ensure there’s no foreign object inside, broken blade, et cetera. I’ve had a good ferret around in there to make sure there isn’t any broken glass either.’ He scribbled on the paperwork attached to the clipboard. ‘I’ll just go and check the X-ray now, and then I can stitch him up. After that, we’ll see to the less urgent injuries.’ He ran his gaze over his lifeless patient, sympathy lacing his voice. ‘Looks as though he’s taken a hard beating.’

  Jenna nodded and left the doctor to wander off, with Mason trailing behind him. Pleased she never had to instruct Mason, she left him to get on with it as she took in the state of the man on the hospital trolley.

  She cruised her gaze over him. Less than optimistic about the reason he was there, she found no pity in her soul, just a deep desire to know that this was the man they were after. That the killings were over. The first had been one too many. The third had scraped her nerves raw.

  DI Taylor’s voice over Airwaves whipped her out of her reverie. ‘DS Morgan?’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘We’ve had a match on the DNA results back from the lab for our second victim, Karen Prestwich.’

  ‘That was quick.’

  ‘It is. Jim Downey put a rush on the swabs he obtained from the victim. Despite his herculean attempt to clean up, the perpetrator managed to leave his semen inside the victim. Forensics ran the results through the system and found a match.’

  Jenna never took her eyes from the comatose man on the bed. His thin face beaten and disfigured, the purple bruises livid under his eyes, his nose crooked. From the blood still coating his cracked, swollen lips, there was a possibility he had a missing tooth or two. Sickening though it looked, any sympathy she had remained on hold at the memory of the dead woman.

  ‘His name’s Mark Pearson. Previously convicted of three indecent assaults and rape. Salter and Wainwright are on their way around to his address with a warrant to enter. PC Wallis has been despatched to talk to his parole officer.’

  At last, things were moving. If the name fit the man in front of her, it would be a relief. If he lived, they’d know more.

  The urgency of the voices caught her attention as the nurse and porter bustled back.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  The nurse gave Jenna a brief glance as he lowered the bed and the porter stepped to the other side. ‘We need to get him into theatre now, the bleeding hasn’t stopped, it’s internal.’ He grabbed the IV bag off the trolley to hang it on the side of the bed and trotted alongside as the porter rushed down the corridor.

  ‘PC Massey, follow that trolley, don’t let him out of your sight until he’s in theatre. Set up a post outside and don’t leave it until I send someone to relieve you. I’ll get PC Gardner out as soon as possible.’

  PC Massey snorted, ‘He’s a waste of space, can’t you send me someone who won’t try to date all the nurses. Cocky little prick.’

  Before she could reply, he dashed off after the trolley.

  She turned as Mason arrived back. ‘Mason, Ryan, let’s get back to the station and find out if we have our killer or not. We have work to do.’

  39

  Wednesday 12 February, 14:50 hrs

  Jenna chewed her bottom lip as she waited for the rest of the team to settle down. She’d taken twenty-five minutes in the rush hour traffic to return from the Princess Royal. Couldn’t they have had the team assembled, ready for when she got back? She’d not even stopped to pick up a coffee.

  DI Taylor harrumphed to attract everyone’s attention and silence fell in the small room. ‘Okay, here we go folks.’ He opened the buff file he held in his hand and took a moment to adjust his small reading glasses, wiping at the corner of his eye with his white handkerchief before he tucked it in his pocket and looked around at the team. ‘This morning at 0710 hours, Mrs Mooney called around at her daughter’s house as she was concerned that Eleanor Mooney had not contacted her since the start of her shift the previous day. This, apparently, is out of character for Eleanor. They have a close relationship and they’re always in contact. Eleanor wasn’t due into work that day, but Mrs Mooney thought she would check in on her way into work. Her shift begins at 0800 hours.’

  DI Taylor removed a photograph from the folder and passed it to the first of the team to circulate. ‘Mrs Mooney currently has her GP with her and has been given a high dose of sedatives to keep her calm.’ He scanned the room, his lips twisting as he sucked air in through his teeth. ‘Unfortunately, that’s the end of any information that we can obtain from her for the time being, but in the meantime PC Donna McGuire persuaded a huge amount of information from her. It appears Mrs Mooney dealt with the shock by talking.’

  ‘Did Donna get anything decent from her?’ Jenna enquired, chewing a broken thumbnail.

  DI Taylor threw her a glance of approval over the top of his half-moon glasses. ‘Fortunately, yes.’ He referred to his notes. ‘Mrs Mooney, Claire, entered her daughter’s house using her own key. She said she smelt the blood immediately. She’s a nurse herself so she said she recognised the unmistakeable aroma straight away.’

  Jenna took a slow breath in through her nose. Once you smelt blood and death you could never get it out of your nostrils. She’d recognised the stomach-lurching scent the moment she’d walked in the front door. She screwed her eyes shut and swallowed, but the image materialised in her head and she popped them open again.

  Concern flickered through DI Taylor’s eyes as he met her gaze across the room, but he said nothing as she sent him a reassuring smile.

  ‘She says she stepped into the kitchen before it even registered. She dashed to her daughter, checked for signs of life, called the police and paramedics.’ With a quiet snort, DI Taylor surveyed the room. ‘They arrived before we did, by which time, she’d checked the other body. Male, aged thirty to thirty-eight, we believe. No identification on his person, although there was a rucksack on the floor nearby which will be checked by Jim Downey as soon as he has first priorities in place. The male had a pulse, weak and thready, but a pulse all the same. The paramedics whipped him out of there as quickly as they could. Beaten half to death, deep knife wound to the left armpit.’ Taylor paused. ‘Any questions so far?’

  Salter looked up from the photograph he’d been handed. ‘What’s the relationship between the two victims? Is it a domestic?’

  ‘At this stage, we have no idea. Claire Mooney claims her daughter wasn’t seeing anyone, that she was actually using a dating app…’ Taylor’s gaze drifted over to Ryan.

  Stress lines dug in deep around Ryan’s mouth as he rolled his lips inwards and muttered, ‘She’s on my list.’

  Taylor squinted at him. ‘Say that again, DC Downey.’

  Louder, ‘She’s on my dating app list, sir.’

  Taylor blew out a breath. ‘That’s what I thought you said.’ He covered his face with his hands and rubbed, dragging them back through his hair before he stared at Ryan. ‘What a mess, what a mess, what a mess.’

  Jenna held her tongue as she waited for DI Taylor to continue.

  He delved into the file and withdrew a second photograph and sent it around the room in the opposite direction. ‘PC McGuire managed to persuade a photograph of Eleanor from Claire. It was framed on the mantelpiece of her fire.’

  Good for Donna. Experienced, she shaped up to be an excellent police officer.

  Jenna held her hand out for the second photograph as it arrived with the first and stared at the image of a beautiful woman, golden eyes laughing into the camera, lush curls of amber hair waterfalled over one shoulder. A young woman, full of life. Now dead. Jenna’s gaze took in the murder scene as she was passed the first photograph.

  The pang of loss struck Jenna in a way it never had before the disappearance of her own sister. She controlled her breathing, slowed her heart rate down, but heat rushed up her neck. With the central heating on in the station, it wasn’t overly hot, but it was stuffy, a
nd Jenna struggled to draw fresh air in through her lungs.

  She glanced at the window. Would anyone protest if she pushed it open? It could hardly be opened wide with the window restrictors in place, but any hint of a draught would do to take away the light-headedness.

  Mason took a couple of steps back and swung the window open the six inches the restrictors allowed and then moved forward to take the photographs from her as though he’d read her mind. She glanced back at him with a grateful smile and knew for certain he had as he passed the photographs down the line.

  The cool rush of winter air washed over her, reviving her flagging senses and she tuned back in as Taylor continued.

  ‘Eleanor Mooney was a twenty-four year old nurse. She’d recently broken up with her boyfriend. According to her mother, she’d started to use a dating app but hadn’t got so far as meeting up with anyone.’ He glanced at Ryan for confirmation.

  Relief swarmed through Jenna’s system as Ryan shook his head. ‘We’d had a couple of conversations. That’s all. She seemed nice, but I’ve been in contact with someone else, so I’d kind of put Ellie on the back-burner for another day.’ His shoulders rolled in as he shuddered, shooting them an apologetic look as he crossed his arms over to rub warmth back into them.

  Guilt that it may be from the icy blast of air coming into the room did not persuade Jenna to close the window, instead she moved closer to Ryan to perch on the edge of the desk next to him. She gave his arm a brief touch to let him know she understood, just as Mason did for her. She dropped her hand before anyone else paid attention.

  Three deaths, each one of them connected to Ryan, no matter how intangible it was, to him it was real, and his feelings of guilt were palpable.

  Taylor flipped over a page and absently scratched the top of his head. ‘According to Donna, one of the things Mrs Mooney stressed was that Eleanor had been convinced someone had been inside her house for the past few days.’