by Sally Rigby
‘Good morning, Mrs Bratt,’ Whitney said as they opened the door. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Walker. You’ve already met DS Price. Thank you for coming in to see us.’
‘When I heard about it on the news, I got in touch straight away. I can’t believe this all happened while I was on the train.’ The woman pressed her hand to her chest.
‘Can you tell me, in detail, about the journey you took?’ Whitney asked.
‘I’d been to see my sister who lives in Newcastle. She hasn’t been well recently and suffers from angina. She lives on her own and needed some help. Her children live overseas, so I’m the only one.’
‘How long were you with her?’ Whitney asked.
‘Two weeks. I wanted to stay longer, but my husband asked me to come back home. He was fed up of having to fend for himself.’
‘And you caught the eight-thirty train from Newcastle on Sunday,’ Whitney confirmed.
‘Yes, I did.’
‘How did you pay for your ticket?’
‘I paid with cash, on the day. I didn’t book in advance because Sunday is always quiet, and I knew there’d be plenty of room on the train.’
‘What time did you arrive at the station?’
‘I was there by seven-forty-five. A taxi picked me up from my sister’s house at seven-fifteen, and the journey took half an hour.’
‘Where did you go once you arrived?’
‘To wait for the train,’ the woman said, frowning.
‘Did you go into the waiting room, or did you stay on the platform?’ Whitney elaborated.
‘I sat on a bench in the waiting room for half an hour and then went onto the platform.’
‘While you were in the waiting room, who else was there?’ Whitney asked.
‘I was the only one in there first of all, and then, after about fifteen minutes, a couple came in, followed by another woman and a man, both on their own.’
‘Did you notice anything unusual about any of them?’ Whitney asked.
‘No. They sat quietly.’
‘Would you recognise them again?’
The woman was silent for a few seconds. ‘I’m not sure. Possibly not, apart from the woman who was part of the couple. I remember she was wearing a straw hat, which had big flowers on the side.’
‘When you went outside to sit on the platform, how many people were there?’
‘By that time, it was quite busy. Other trains were coming into the station. Maybe around fifteen people were on my platform. Across the other side I could see a few people waiting, too.’
‘Did you see anything out of the ordinary? Or anyone acting suspiciously?’ Whitney was asking these detailed questions to lead her gently to the actual journey, hoping it would prompt something.
‘No. I’m sorry. Nothing.’ Mrs Bratt slowly shook her head.
‘That’s fine. You’re doing really well. We appreciate your help. Could you take me through when you got onto the train?’
‘I got on about halfway down the platform. I never like to go in the first two carriages, as they’re usually the busiest, and it can be noisy. I walked through the train until I came to the next to last carriage. I sat on one of the seats pointing in the direction we were heading. I can’t travel with my back facing the way we’re going, as it gives me motion sickness.’
‘Was anyone else in the carriage with you?’
‘There was another woman, and just as the train was due to leave, a man came hurrying through and sat down a few rows in front of me on the right-hand side.’
Could this be the killer?
‘Can you describe him for me?’
‘He was in his thirties and was wearing jeans and a dark grey hoodie. He had on a dark baseball hat and he wore sunglasses, which I thought strange, as it wasn’t sunny and it was first thing in the morning, but I just thought he had a hangover or a headache.’
‘Did he stay seated all the time?’ Whitney asked.
‘He got up and went out of the carriage. The one which linked with the last one. I assumed he was going to the toilet. He wasn’t gone long. Maybe five minutes.’
Was he casing the last carriage? Had he earmarked Hugo as his target?
‘Did he look at you at all?’ Whitney wondered if she would have been the victim if there hadn’t been another person in the carriage.
‘Not that I know of, but I was reading.’
‘Did anyone else get into the carriage?’
‘Two people got on at Leeds. A young girl in her twenties, and an older woman. They weren’t together.’
With so many people in the carriage, he clearly wouldn’t have done anything there. Far too risky.
‘The next stop, Coventry. What did you notice?’
‘The man in the hoodie got off.’
Damn.
‘Did you actually see him leave the train and go onto the platform?’ Whitney clarified.
‘No. He walked out of the carriage, and I assumed he’d left. I wasn’t really paying much attention at that point.’
‘Which door did he leave out of?’
‘He went to the back of the carriage again.’
‘The one connecting with the end carriage?’ she asked, just to confirm.
Her heart pumped in her chest. This could be the lead they were looking for. The man may have gone into the toilet to keep out of the way, and then gone into the end carriage once the ticket collector had gone through. Except it didn’t make sense. Hugo didn’t get on the train until Coventry, so the suspect wouldn’t have known about him. She would have to check Stanley Crabtree’s account to see if anyone else had been in the end carriage at that time. The killer might have had somebody else in his sights, but when they got off and Hugo got on, he moved to a different victim.
‘Yes,’ Mrs Bratt replied. ‘There’s an exit to get off the train there.’
‘Did anyone get on at Coventry and come into your carriage?’
‘A young boy walked through, in the direction of the last carriage. Oh.’ She slammed her hand across her mouth. ‘He was the victim, wasn’t he? It said on the news a fourteen-year-old boy had died.’ The woman’s eyes widened and filled with tears.
‘We can’t confirm anything at the moment. Did anyone else get on?’ Whitney asked gently, passing her a tissue from the box at the end of the table.
‘No. Not at Coventry.’ She shook her head.
‘What about when the train reached Banbury?’
‘I don’t know. That poor boy. He was so young. I know you’re not meant to tell me, but it was him, wasn’t it?’
‘I understand this is hard, but if you could please think back to when the train was in Banbury,’ Whitney said, ignoring the woman’s question.
Mrs Bratt wiped her eyes with the tissue and sniffed. ‘Nobody got on there. Well, not in my carriage. I don’t think anyone got off, either, but I can’t be sure.’
Whitney doubted the woman could give them any more useful information, and she needed to get back to the incident room to arrange for the CCTV footage from Coventry to be checked, to ascertain if this man got off the train.
‘You’ve been very helpful, Mrs Bratt. We really appreciate you coming in. Can I arrange for someone to get you a cup of tea?’ she offered.
‘No, thank you. If we’ve finished, I’d like to go. My husband’s waiting for me in reception. He’ll be getting anxious if I’m much longer.’
‘If you do think of anything else, no matter how insignificant it seems, please contact us straight away. You have our number. DS Price will show you out.’
When she got back to her office, George was pouring over the files. She looked up and smiled.
‘How was the interview?’ she asked.
‘Good. We might have something. I’ve asked Frank to check footage to see if the man she described actually got off the train at Coventry. If not, he could’ve been hiding in the toilets waiting for a potential victim.’
‘Excellent. I’ve gone through the files and started to
put together a profile we can work with. There are certainly some similarities between the cases, and it does give an indication of the type of person we’re dealing with. The other forces should have made the same links, but nothing in the files is leading me to believe they did.’
‘Maybe that’s because they don’t have someone like you working with them. Or, even if they did, they wouldn’t be up to your standard.’
‘I’m sure that’s not the case.’
‘What’s with the modesty all of a sudden? You know you do a good job. That’s why we work so well together. Take it as a compliment.’
‘I will. Thank you. But it could be they haven’t given us all of the information from their investigation. Or maybe they didn’t share files with each other, so no one has the full picture.’
‘The RF would have all the documentation. But it certainly wouldn’t surprise me if they haven’t sent us everything. We won’t know until they arrive.’
‘Let’s go back to the incident room, and I can run through everything with you and speak to the team. Even if we don’t have all the information, I’m sure you’ll be interested in what I’ve got to say from what I’ve learned so far,’ George said.
They left Whitney’s office and went back into the incident room.
‘Listen up, everyone,’ Whitney said. ‘George is going to tell us what she’s found from going through the existing case files.’ She nodded at the psychologist to start.
‘From what I’ve read, there’s no pattern to the choice of victim. Chloroform has always been used before the stabbing. There have been no notes admitting guilt, or making demands, or explaining the reason behind the murders,’ George said.
‘But is it likely the perp would send a note if the murders are indiscriminate?’ Doug asked.
‘It depends on the motive behind what they’re doing. Are they looking for attention? Do they enjoy killing? My hunch, and you know how much I hate hunches, is there’s some reason behind this. They don’t appear to be in it for the thrill of the murder, or why else would they use the chloroform to ease the pain?’
‘That’s what we’ve got to find out. Was there anything else you noted from going through the files?’ Whitney asked.
‘Yes. Although the murders took place on different train operator lines, they are all part of a wider group called Transwide. The operators targeted are: Pathway Trains, Coastal Rail, Link Railways, and ours, which is Central Group.’
‘If it’s a vendetta against Transwide, what have the previous investigations turned up?’ Whitney asked.
‘The information in the files is sketchy,’ George said. ‘I can see one interview with the Chief Operating Officer, but nothing helpful was recorded. If these are revenge killings, the perpetrator could certainly be a disgruntled ex-employee or customer.’
‘Ellie, look into Transwide. Find out how many rail operators they own and how they’re all linked. Anything you can find. If they are integral to these murders, I want to know about it,’ Whitney said.
‘Yes, guv.’
‘If we can solve a case the RF have failed to, I’ll be very happy.’
Not to mention, if they didn’t find the killer soon, someone else would die.
Chapter Ten
Wednesday, 12 June
How are you feeling today, Transwide?
Concerned?
Worried?
Are your profits plummeting?
Of course they are. And by the time I’ve finished with you, no one will ever want to ride on your trains again.
Remember, everything I do is down to you.
All this loss of life. The devastation caused. The blame is at your feet.
You destroy lives, and I destroy lives. We’re the same, you and me. Except we’re not. I’m cleverer than you.
For two years I’ve been carrying out these murders, and no one has been able to catch me. What I do is unpredictable. Yes, you know when I’ve chosen an area there will be four murders, and the first and last will be exactly two weeks apart. But that’s all I’ll allow you to know. Call it a little teaser.
You don’t know how I make my choices. My choice of train. My choice of victim. My choice of station. And that’s why I won’t be caught. By the time the police get their shit together, I’ve moved on and left no evidence.
I wasn’t always cruel. You made me like this. You destroyed my life, and now I’m going to destroy yours.
So, what are you going to do? Stop running trains in an area during the two-week period? It could work. And then, guess what? I’ll extend the time between murders. I’ll keep doing it until you stop every one of your rail operators from running trains at all. A perfect plan.
You wrecked my family, and nothing will ever compensate for that. I won’t allow you to do it to anyone else.
No one should suffer like we did.
No one should have their world turned upside down for it never to be the same again. You ruin so many lives, but you don’t care. People think you can’t be held responsible because you’re a company and not a real person. But you’re real to me. Decisions are made by actual people, and these people wreck lives.
I’ve already chosen my next train route. My ticket’s been bought, and I’ve made my preparations.
I’m never going to stop.
Not until you’ve been destroyed forever.
Chapter Eleven
Thursday, 12 June
The phone ringing on her bedside table caused George to wake up with a start. She glanced at the clock. It was already eight. Crap. She’d slept in. She’d been out again with Ross the previous night to a real ale bar and had rather a lot to drink. Her head was thumping.
She reached for her phone. ‘Hello.’ Her mouth was dry, and the word barely came out.
‘George?’
‘Yes.’
‘It didn’t sound like you. It’s Whitney. There’s been another murder. Can you meet me at the station?’
Another murder? The station. Why?
‘Don’t you want to go to the scene?’ she mumbled.
‘The railway station not the police station. Are you okay?’
‘I think so. I’ll be with you once I’ve got up.’
‘You’re still in bed?’ The officer’s incredulous tone was unmistakeable.
‘I had a late night.’ She rubbed her temples, but it didn’t have much effect.
‘Did you go out with Ross on another date?’
George yawned and stretched out. She had no energy to deal with an inquisitive Whitney at the moment. ‘If you want me there, leave me alone to get dressed. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’
She ended the call and headed into the shower, turning it to cold. Her whole body spasmed as the water hit it, but she forced herself to stay under for as long as she could. After getting ready, she grabbed a couple of headache tablets and a glass of water. Was the alcohol still in her system?
After arriving at the station, she walked into the building and out onto the platform, where a cordon had been put up around one of the trains. She caught sight of Whitney standing with Matt Price and went over to them.
‘You look rough,’ Whitney said once she’d reached them.
‘Thank you.’ She rolled her eyes towards the sky, then wished she hadn’t, as it hurt her head. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘The victim is a woman in her fifties, travelling on her own. A passenger who got on at Lenchester raised the alarm. We’ve emptied the train, and everyone on there is currently in the waiting room. Sue and Doug are taking their statements, and Matt’s about to join them.’
‘I’m off now,’ Matt said as he walked away from them.
‘Were there are a lot of people on the train?’ George asked.
‘Quite a few, because it was going to London. It started in Coventry, and this was the second stop. Banbury being the first.’
‘A bit risky for the murderer with so many people around,’ she said.
‘Yes, but he’s clearly got it
down to a fine art.’
‘He certainly has. Have you spoken to the passenger who found the victim?’
‘Briefly. But she was very distressed and came over all faint. I’ve left her in the station manager’s office. We need to give her time to recover before speaking to her properly,’ Whitney said.
‘Have you seen the body?’
‘Not yet. I let Claire go on board first. She’s been there a while, long enough to do the preliminaries. I’m sure she won’t mind us going in now. Well, she might, knowing Claire.’ Whitney stared at her. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? You’re very pale.’
‘I’m fine. I’ve just got a slight hangover,’ she admitted.
‘What? Since when have you ever got that wasted?’
‘Since I went to a pub that served real ale.’
‘Were you with Ross?’
‘Yes. And that’s all I’m telling you. I’ll go and sign the log.’
She left Whitney and walked over to where a uniformed officer was standing at the entrance to the scene.
After signing, she skirted around the cordon and onto the train, following Whitney. Again, it was one of the older trains with no CCTV. The murderer obviously knew which trains to target.
‘We should check the types of trains used in all the other murders. If ours are anything to go by, he chooses older trains. The ones giving him the best opportunity of not being caught on camera,’ she said.
‘Yes, I’d been thinking that, too,’ Whitney agreed.
They made their way through the train until reaching one of the connecting doors to the carriage where Claire was working. They walked through and could see the victim sitting at a table. Her body was twisted over, and her head was leaning towards the window.
‘Hello, Claire,’ they both said as the pathologist glanced up and acknowledged them with a nod.
‘We meet again. This is getting to be a habit,’ Claire said.
‘The same as the last one?’ Whitney asked.
‘There are similarities, and that’s all I’m saying until I get her on the table,’ the pathologist said.
‘And the chloroform?’ George asked.
