“A list?”
“Yes, Inspector. A list of female students who’ve simply disappeared for no good reason during the last twelve months.” Her tone suggested she wasn’t impressed by the amused look on his face. “And don’t think I’ve not asked about them, because I have, and got nowhere. I just don’t have the resources or access to them. But I don’t harbour these suspicions lightly, and nor should you.”
“You’re doing a criminology degree. Do you want to be a detective?”
“No, I want to be a profiler. And before you ask, this is not down to my imagination. Just because I spend my time studying criminals doesn’t mean I see evil all around me. This is real, Inspector, take my word for it.”
“So there have been a few disappearances? But isn’t that the way with students at university? They start a course and soon realise it’s too much like hard work, not to mention the cost.”
“Not these students. Most of them were from the USA, and being sponsored. Maddy had a scholarship from a large corporation in New York. Not a fortune, but enough to get by on. Once she’d qualified they would have employed her, and it was the same with the others. I compiled the list because no one would listen to me. And now Maddy’s dead, and I don’t think she was the first.” She bit her lip thoughtfully.
“What do you think is wrong, Alice? You’ve obviously put work into this and developed a theory.”
“I know what you’re thinking; you’ve hinted as much. You think I’m a criminology student with an overactive imagination. But you’re wrong.” She spoke with passion. “I think Maddy was taken by a killer — a serial killer.” This was said with more than a pinch of bravado. “I think female students here — particularly the ones from the USA — are being targeted. Look. I’ve highlighted the American students. All were female, and all left without going through any of the formalities or saying goodbye to their friends. Now why would they do that?”
Could she be right? Calladine hoped not. His eyes moved down the list. He was half hoping the name Vida might be there — but it wasn’t.
“All these highlighted are American, and no longer here?”
“That’s right.”
“Thank you, Alice. You can rest assured we will follow this up. I’m not saying you’re right — not yet.” Calladine reached into his pocket for one of his cards. “Ring me with anything else you discover — anything, even if you think it isn’t relevant.”
Alice nodded. She was pleased with herself for speaking out like this. “I still have some of Maddy’s stuff — most importantly, her laptop. You should take it with you. I can’t get into it — it’s password protected.”
“We have someone back at the station who’ll deal with that. It could prove very useful — thanks again.”
The ‘someone’ he had in mind was Imogen. Listening to Alice, and becoming aware of the extent of the research she’d done — he could see that these two young women had a lot in common.
“I’ve got a lecture very soon, so I’ll have to go. If one of you comes with me, I’ll give you Maddy’s things.”
“You go, Ruth. I want to have another word with Joanna Johnson before we leave.”
Calladine already suspected their man had murdered more than one woman, so why not look at Alice’s list a little closer? Their man had a particular method — the thing with the teeth, the mouth and the tag in the ear. It was possible that he had a favourite hunting ground too, so Alice Bolshaw just might be right. Manchester’s colleges were the perfect place to find young women who were alone for the first time in a strange city — impressionable young women, with no family close by.
Calladine went back to Mrs Johnson’s office and found her deep in conversation with a young man. He tapped on the half-open door.
“Inspector!” she exclaimed. “Come in — we’re finished here.”
“Can I use your photocopier?” As he made a copy of Alice’s list, he said, “I want to know the addresses and next of kin of all these students. Please. Once you’ve compiled it, email it to me here. Time is of the essence, so I’d appreciate it if you made this a priority. This is a murder enquiry.”
Chapter 11
“Imogen, see what you can do with this.” Calladine handed her the laptop. “It belonged to the first dead girl — Vida 5, or to give her her proper name, Madison Benneti. Her friend tells me it’s password protected so she can’t get into it. I’m particularly interested in the social networking sites she used — emails, any photos you find — that sort of thing.”
“Piece of cake.”
If anyone could get anything from the laptop, then it was Imogen. It was a skill she excelled at, and it had made her invaluable to the team. Calladine disappeared into his office and sat down at his desk. He needed to think. He needed to sift the information they had so far. But he particularly needed to know the meaning behind that name — Vida.
He logged onto the system and did an internet search. Apparently Vida was a female name and more common in the USA. Now why didn’t that surprise him? And where did it lead him? A nutter so obsessed with a woman called Vida that he’d taken to murdering other women and tagging them with her name. But why? Why call them all by her name, and what had happened to the original Vida? He sifted through the file and took out a photograph of Madison Benneti. She’d been young, slim, with long fair hair and, of course, American. Was he seeking out women who looked like Vida?
“Sir! I’ve just had a call from Julian. He’s got a name for the second one — Vida 3.”
“How come?”
“Her DNA was on record,” Ruth told him. “She was arrested in a drugs bust two years ago at a student house in Manchester.”
“Who is she?”
“Serena Hall — and guess what?”
Calladine’s mouth pulled into a grim smile. “Don’t tell me — she was a student in Manchester, and American.”
“Got it in one. From New York actually — somewhere called Queens.”
“So now we’ve got a little more than just Alice’s theories to work with.” He picked up the phone. “I want to speak to Joanna Johnson. This is Inspector Calladine from Leesworth Police.”
He gestured for Ruth to sit while he waited to be put through. “You’re still looking peaky. Not coming down with something, are you?”
“No, just tired.”
“Mrs Johnson, It’s looking highly likely that someone is targeting students from the USA. I could do with you going through that list and letting me have the information today. I’d also like you to check if you had a student called Serena Hall, and if so, would you email me a photo of her as soon as you can? You might want to have a few words with the other American students and warn them to be careful. Particularly about social networking sites, and taking up with men they don’t know.”
“So this is real — something more than just Alice Bolshaw’s ramblings?”
“It is. If anything, we should all be grateful to that young woman. She’s done us a great favour by noticing what was going on.”
“I’ll get onto it straight away. I’ll commandeer some more staff to help.” She paused. “This is awful. Alice has been badgering me for weeks, and I’ve taken no notice. I’ll get back to you quickly. Don’t worry, Inspector.”
“Seems to have shaken her up a bit. So what have we got, Ruth?”
“A serial murderer — and on our patch too by the look of things. The body in the pile-up was one thing, but leaving the second one at the Leesworth undertakers was too much of a coincidence.”
“I think you’re right. He’s local but he’s hunting in student land.”
“I think that’s because he’s after a particular type. He wants young women from the USA who look a certain way — young women he calls Vida. And we know, because of the numbers, that there are bound to be more. But what’s he done with the rest of them, sir? Where are they being kept? Serena Hall’s been dead a while, so where’s she been? And we have to ask ourselves what’s prompted him to get ri
d of her now?’
“It has to be something major — something that’s forced him to change his usual method of operation.”
He rubbed his eyes. He was tired; too much to think about. His mind wouldn’t let go, so he could get no rest. It’d been a pig of a week, starting with his mother’s funeral. And now this little lot.
“You look as bad as I feel, Tom. You need a break.”
“I’ve got a lot of things rumbling around in my head. Sometimes I think I’m my own worst enemy. I really could do with being able to relax more, but the questions and theories are relentless.”
“Perhaps you need a night out — a few beers. Why don’t you ask the lads or even better, speak to Monika?”
“I’m a bloody fool, Ruth. I should never have messed things up with her. Do you think it’s too late?”
“Well, I don’t think the little fling you had with the blonde has helped. But if you’re feeling brave then why not try? Swallow your pride; mend a few fences.”
“But I was such an ass. What was I doing? That woman wasn’t much older than Zoe. What do you think — honestly?”
“I think you should try. Give it your best shot. She can only tell you to piss off. Why not do it now?”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes, I really think you do. It might make you feel better to know you’ve tried, if nothing else.”
“I’ll ring her tonight.”
“I don’t think this is something you should do over the phone either, and what’s wrong with now?”
“Too much to do, that’s what.” An email appeared in his inbox. “This is from Mrs Johnson.”
He sent the attached photo straight to the printer. “Get the team together next door, Ruth. Let’s look at what we’ve got.” He pushed the printout over to Ruth. “Remind you of anyone?”
“Is that Serena? Because if it is, then she’s scarily like Madison.” Ruth shuddered and took the photo from him. “I’ll pin it on the board and tell the guys.”
“Julian says he’ll have something on the latest body within twenty-four hours, sir,” Rocco told Calladine as he walked into the main office. “He says she was in soil for a while, so he’s doing an analysis. He’ll try to pinpoint where she was buried if he can.”
Good idea — if the science could be that precise.
“Right, folks.” The inspector took up his position in front of the incident board. “It looks highly likely that we’re dealing with a serial killer. The victims so far are young women who bear a striking resemblance to each other, and are from the USA. We have two victims: Madison Benneti and Serena Hall. Madison Benneti’s friend, Alice Bolshaw, drew up a list of other American students who have disappeared from the university leaving no forwarding address and giving no explanations. Serena Hall is on that list. So I’m having their addresses and phone numbers dug out as we speak, and once I get them they’ll all need checking out. I want to know the whereabouts of every person on that list. Is that clear?”
“Do we know if there have been any enquiries from the police in the States?” Imogen asked.
“No. The university isn’t aware of any.”
“Why do you reckon that is, sir? Surely if a youngster goes missing in a foreign country, there’s all sorts of investigations.”
“I think it’s down to how he chooses them. With any luck, Madison’s laptop will prove helpful. Alice told Ruth that our man found Madison on a social networking site and then started a relationship with her. I think he goes not only for a physical type, but also for women who are alone — with no nosey family in the background.”
“I’ve cracked the login password already, sir.” Imogen spoke up. “So with a bit of luck I’ll get into her inbox quite soon.”
“Then with a little more luck we’ll have something.” Calladine paused and shook his head. “The bastard doesn’t make it clean. He keeps the girls somewhere and tortures them over time. He removes some of their teeth and stitches the mouth shut, and with Madison there was evidence of persistent rape. In fact the girl was in the early stages of pregnancy and someone had attempted an abortion.”
“Looks like he blamed someone else for her condition, then,” Rocco suggested. “Perhaps he did those things and killed her because he believed she’d been unfaithful.”
“Nice theory, Rocco, but the dates don’t match. Given the length of time she’d been missing from college, the pregnancy must have been down to our man. We’ve got DNA, so when we get him we’ll know for sure.”
“In that case he’s got a real screw loose.”
“I think we’d all agree with that, Rocco. A gold-plated screw loose, in fact.”
DCI George Jones came into the office and stood in the doorway while Calladine spoke.
“We need to know how many more we could be looking at. We think at least another three, but we can’t be sure. I’m going to divvy up a list of phone numbers — they’re all in the States but I’m afraid they will need checking — every last one. Me and Ruth will visit the college again and get a formal statement from Alice Bolshaw. Ask her if she recalls anything else — particularly if she knew Serena Hall. Imogen — the minute you get anything from that laptop get it up on the board — photos, copies of emails — anything and everything that might help us find our man.”
He paused. They were scribbling away in their notebooks. They all realised the urgency of this. This bastard needed catching before more bodies turned up.
“Tom, a word if you’ve finished.” Jones barked the order, without so much as a glance at the others.
“Definite charisma bypass if you ask me,” Rocco whispered to Imogen. “I don’t know how the guv stands it. It should be him in that job, not DCI Charming over there.”
“Central haven’t received your statement yet, Tom. You should really get that one wrapped up quickly.”
Tom Calladine shot the DCI a disapproving look. The fact that he was Ray Fallon’s cousin was not common knowledge in the nick. Only the DCI and Ruth knew. So he didn’t want the DCI shouting his mouth off. The others on his team would ask those awkward questions he didn’t want to answer.
“Yes, sir, I’ll get onto it. We do have a lot on. In fact I could do with a minute or two to fill you in.”
He followed Jones back to his office.
* * *
“Why does the boss have to give a statement to Central?” Rocco asked Ruth. “Has he been up to something we should know about?”
“Nothing that concerns you, Rocco, so just get on with what you’re supposed to be doing.” She passed him a card with Alice Bolshaw’s number on it. “Give her a ring and tell her we’ll be in to see her later today.”
“Not sure what’s going on, or what it has to do with the boss. But what I do know is that Central has its hands full at the moment. There was a gangland shooting earlier in the week. The only witness in a major case was shot and killed. Nasty business and it’s got them all edgy and looking for someone to blame. But someone tipped the bad guys off, so the push is on to find out who that was. The whisper has it that it might even have been a cop. So why they’d want to see the boss is lost on me. Surely they can’t think that he’s involved somehow — do you?”
“Don’t be daft, Rocco. What would Calladine know about the likes of Ray Fallon and his crew?” Ruth tried to close the discussion down.
Chapter 12
She was such an innocent. An innocent unsuspecting fool. Just what he needed. He’d told her to take the train from Victoria to a quiet little station two stops from Huddersfield. He’d arranged to meet her at the bus stop outside. She hadn’t even questioned the plans when he’d phoned her. She’d simply laughed that light tinkle of a laugh she had, and enthused about their weekend together.
He was beginning to wonder whether she was such a good idea after all. Vida was never that gullible. She was mature, sensible, and would’ve seen through his subterfuge in a second. So if Patsy Lumis wasn’t right for him, then how to deal with her? Not nicely — tha
t was for sure. He’d take what he wanted and have some fun. His kind of fun — and she wouldn’t enjoy it, not one little bit. But what did he care?
He’d checked out the bus stop and the road for a hundred yards either way. There were no cameras. He’d park up, get her in and bring her back to his place as quickly as possible.
It was a good plan. He couldn’t see any problems. In the night, the street was particularly dark because the nearby street light was blinking off and on — even better. He sat in his van and waited anxiously for the train. He hadn’t bothered to change, and was still wearing his work clothes. She’d turn her cute little nose up, but that didn’t matter now. He could sweet-talk her round.
Once he got her back he’d treat her like a proper lady — for a short while. He’d prepared food — of sorts. Some small savoury pastries from the bakers in Leesdon, and a bottle of wine. They’d eat and she’d drink — then he’d have her. He’d laced the wine with GHB. It was his favourite because of the effect it had. He’d also added some diazepam for good measure — he wanted it to work quickly. He wanted her sleepy and sexually uninhibited. He could feel his loins stirring already at the thought of what he’d do to her. He’d have her straight away — rough and hard, in the isolation of his special place. She could scream all she liked and no one would hear. Serve her right — stupid cow!
He heard the train pull in and a couple of people ran up the steps and into the station. He waited, clicking his fingers with impatience. Where was she? Then he saw her. The bitch was talking to someone — an older woman. What was she doing? He didn’t want anyone to remember seeing her — so what now? He thumped his fist on the steering wheel, making the horn blast, and her head shot round. She’d seen him.
He watched her smile at the woman and wave goodbye, and then teeter towards him in those stupid heels she wore, dragging her suitcase behind her.
“Friend of yours?”
Patsy Lumis shook her head and attempted to lift her case into the van.
Bayliss & Calladine Box Set Page 26
