‘But it could be Browning? Was he in that part of the world at that time?’
‘Yes, he was. There was a midsummer MG rally at Bowness — he went to that. It’s recorded in his diary. He travelled across the Pennines on the Friday night, so it’s quite possible he could have been in Ambleside around eight that same evening.’
‘And Dawlish?’
‘He was there too, Browning refers to him in his diary. Unfortunately, the detail is rather sketchy — Browning records, on the Saturday of that rally weekend, “Met Hugh and went to the rally. Bowness was wonderful, even if the weather was wet. A typical Lakeland summer.” And that’s all he says. But it does mean Dawlish was at Bowness, in the area of Rusthwaite, when Toni Petch was murdered.’
‘That’s all useful stuff, Lorraine. And the other occasion?’
‘The previous year, 1988, at the Northumberland murder. Sophie Armitage died at Oldsfield near Otterburn. An eyewitness says a similar thing — she saw a red-headed man talking to Sophie Armitage on the Friday evening; she’d been with other clients afterwards, so he was not listed as a prime suspect. The prostitutes in that area served soldiers from nearby army camps. The police thought it was probably a man from one of the camps, but he was never traced and not listed as being sought for interview. He was described as being in his twenties, well-built with noticeably red hair but no other distinguishing features. No car was mentioned — he was talking to her outside a hotel at Otterburn; one of the hotel waitresses saw them.’
‘It’s odd that those sightings of red-haired men have not been collated.’
‘They’re not in any list of suspects, sir, because there were no suspects.’
‘So they got overlooked! And the diaries? Do they confirm Browning was in those places?’
‘They do — he was meticulous in his diary-keeping. He went to an MG rally at Otterburn and, as on the other occasion, noted that he met Hugh during that weekend. It was their annual reunion.’
‘I wonder if that Otterburn waitress is still around? If we showed her a photo of Browning, I wonder if she could identify him as the man she saw talking to the prostitute outside the hotel at Otterburn? It’s a long shot, so do you think it’s worth a try?’
‘Well, I think it’s extremely unlikely she’d recognise him after all this time, but I suppose we can try — and the cafe owner too.’
‘Can you arrange that, Lorraine? Can we send colour photographs to the local police and ask them to trace those witnesses? Give it priority status.’
‘Yes, I’ll see to that. I’ll use e-mail; they’ll get the photos immediately.’
‘Good, but I’ll be honest when I say I’m rather more keen to concentrate on Dawlish. I want to put him in the frame for those killings…’
‘Yes, I know, but if we can state the sightings were definitely James Browning, then we know, from Browning’s diary, that Dawlish was with him and probably in the vicinity. That’ll confirm our partnership theory.’
‘It’s at times like this I wish Browning was alive and able to help us,’ he said.
‘You’ve not considered another visit to Father Flynn, to try and persuade him, by fair means or foul, to inform you of the contents of Browning’s confession?’
‘I’ve considered it, but I know it would be useless. Even if I threatened him with court proceedings, he’d never break the seal of confession, even if the object of our interest is dead.’
‘Shall I talk to him?’
‘You can try.’ He had no desire to frustrate her attempt to persuade the priest to talk. ‘Is that why you came to see me?’
‘No, it wasn’t. Actually, a thought occurred to me and I thought I’d better check it with you first. It’s about the girl we saw with Dawlish last night. Denise Alderson.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, we all believe she could be at risk from Dawlish, but I know it’s a risk we have to take. I wondered if she ought to be warned or given closer protection? I think we’ve had a glimpse of the killer’s MO. He selects his victim in advance, takes her out, uses her services for payment and takes her to a country setting…then he returns another time and does the same thing all over again with the same woman, but this time, he kills her. And she was wearing sandals last night. Maybe he’s got a fetish about sandals? Isn’t that how you think he’s been operating?’
‘Yes, that’s exactly how I think he’s been operating, either alone or with an accessory.’
‘So you agree she does need protection?’
‘I’m not sure he does intend to kill her. The killer has already despatched one victim here — to kill another would be out of sequence and, I think, out of character. It would be a break in his pattern, so I think this girl’s safe. The trouble is that if we explain to her our worries and plans, she could inadvertently alert Dawlish and we might lose him altogether, we might never get the evidence we need. There’s no way she could behave normally after what we would tell her. What we need is to ensure that our tails never lose him. Having said all that, we can’t ignore the possibility that he could attempt to kill her — the loss of his close friend, James Browning, might be the catalyst to make him behave differently and kill again. But we can prevent him killing her, Lorraine. I’m confident we can ensure her safety without the risk of informing her of our suspicions.’
‘There’s many a slip…’ she warned him.
‘Don’t I know it! But to achieve success, risks must sometimes be taken. Think of it this way, Lorraine. If Dawlish is the killer and we don’t catch him this time, he’ll be free to continue killing. My job is to stop him and Denise is the bait, but I daren’t tell her.’
‘Well, so long as you know the risk you’re taking with her life.’
‘It’s one hell of a gamble — I hope I can crack him before he reaches that stage. Now, on another topic, we’ve not considered the tools of his trade, have we?’
‘The rope, you mean?’
‘Yes. His room at the hotel has been searched — it’s not there. And last night, our teams managed to get into his car. It’s not there either. So he’s probably not planning another murder immediately.’
‘Was the rope used on all the earlier victims from the same length? Cut off and used for that purpose, then left with the victim?’
‘According to a succession of forensic experts, yes. It was the kind of rope that could be used for marine purposes or on farms or for towing cars; it’s a thick strong nylon rope with a multiplicity of purposes. And it is nowhere to be found on this occasion.’
‘On the other hand, if he’s lost his partner in crime, he might want to show he can do it alone?’ Lorraine suggested. ‘Kill someone as an act of revenge.’
‘Which means he will have to acquire some rope if he wants to use his well-tested and tried MO,’ he said.
‘And if he does, I’m sure your teams will alert you.’
‘Yes, but Lorraine, think of this. He’s used the same piece of rope on every previous occasion, cutting off lengths to suit his evil purpose. So where did he keep it, and where is it now?’
‘Perhaps he’s used it all — after all, Mark, eleven short lengths added together does make a rather substantial piece. Fifteen yards, just about the amount for a roll. Forty metres or so. I would image you could buy a coil that length in any shop. But if you’re chopping a couple of feet off once a year, you’d eventually use it all.’
‘So if he goes out to buy a length of rope this morning, it’s more evidence against him?’
‘It means he’s probably going to get himself a tow rope in case his old car breaks down — that’s what he’d tell you, if you asked about it.’
‘There was a piece of rope in the boot of Browning’s MG, it was burnt almost to a cinder, melted in fact because it was nylon, but it was definitely a piece of rope,’ he told her.
‘Left by Dawlish, you think?’
‘Yes, I do honestly think that.’
‘And cut from the coil Dawlish was using for the murder
s?’
‘That is something only our forensic wizards could determine, but with the rope in such a burnt state, I doubt if a proper comparison is possible. The lengths of rope used on the earlier victims have been retained as exhibits by the way. But I shall ensure that any piece we find is forensically compared with the ropes used on the past victims.’
‘Well, at least we know he hasn’t any with him now, unless our men have overlooked it. I suppose it could be hidden, but they’d know where to look. However, it might be sensible to alert the tails, asking them to let us know if he does buy himself a piece of tow rope. Well, that’s my coffee break over. Back to the files…seeking more red-headed men in little red cars…’
‘You’re doing a great job,’ he said, meaning every word.
‘I’m going to have a walk out in the fresh air, just for half an hour,’ she said. ‘I need a break from concentrating on the files. I’ll go to see Father Flynn.’
When she left, his office seemed empty of life, devoid of any happiness and full of paper. But he was sure those piles of paper contained something he’d missed, something which would provide the enlightenment necessary to solve the riddle he had set himself. It was possible Lorraine had unlocked the puzzle by spotting the presence of the red-haired men or man. He called in Inspector Larkin to acquaint him with the discussions he’d had with Lorraine and to ask him to radio the men tailing Dawlish, alerting them to the possibility of him purchasing a length of tow rope.
‘You must be psychic, sir,’ Larkin grinned. ‘This morning’s shadows have just called in. He’s been to a ship’s chandler on the sea-front and has emerged with a large coil of white nylon rope.’
Dawlish had returned to his hotel bearing the coil of rope in a large plastic bag and had placed it in the boot of his car. He’d then gone to his room and visited the toilet before heading for the small public bar where he’d ordered a sandwich and a pint of beer for lunch. Pemberton’s lunch had been similar, a sandwich and a glass of orange juice in the canteen, after which he had returned to the incident room. Lorraine, in the meantime, had gone to see the priest.
During the course of that afternoon, several matters were resolved. Enquiries in Harlow Spa confirmed that James Browning was an ardent and active supporter of several local charities. He spent time at weekends either with those who ran the organisations, or with the patients. He worked in the hospice, for example, tending the sick, taking them for outings in their wheelchairs, or even helping with the washing-up or bed-making. At the Hospice of St Hilda, he was a very welcome supporter and liked by all, staff and patients alike. He did stints in several charity shops in town too, serving behind the counter from time to time or helping to organise fund-raising efforts; he’d been to Lourdes on several occasions with handicapped people from the town and had also taken his turn in standing in the town centre gathering funds in a collecting box and issuing sticky label badges. And without exception, everyone said how wonderful he was.
Even if he was quiet and retiring, he was a tireless worker, selfless and devoted to those in his care, and he would be sorely missed.
For many of the charitable organisations of Harlow Spa, the sudden death of James Browning was a tragedy. In gathering this information, the detectives had compared, where possible, his periods of charitable work with the times of other unsolved murders, including those which were not part of the Sandal Strangler series. It had become evident he could not have committed any of those other outstanding crimes because in most cases, the charities had kept details of their duty rosters. His name appeared on many, endorsed to show that he had actually turned up as he’d promised, thus creating an unbreakable alibi — but there were no such alibis for the Sandal Stranglings.
It had been comparatively simple, therefore, to ascertain that any absences from charitable work had been spent with his MG either at home, polishing and maintaining it, or at one or other of the rallies — and those had coincided with the Sandal Stranglings. From time to time, there were unexplained absences not mentioned in his MG diary — these, the detectives felt, were his journeys to Staffordshire to visit his parents and, later, his father only, but none had coincided with any other killing.
In presenting this information, Detective Sergeant Browne said, ‘That seems to have been his world, sir. Charitable work at weekends, public relations work during the week, and not-very-frequent outings to vintage car rallies as a form of real relaxation. He was a worker, sir, a solid, dependable worker whatever he tackled, and from the enquiries we have made, he was well liked and trusted.’
‘The very opposite, you’d think, of a serial killer?’
‘I must admit it doesn’t ring true, sir, a man like that going out and killing people. Can we be sure we’re on the right track? If he was leading a really distinctly separate double life, then he’s been a bloody good actor all through. But everyone speaks highly of him. Not one of his contacts hinted he was weird or distasteful in any way, even if he was on the quiet side.’
‘But he did admit one murder, Sergeant. Still, thanks for all that. There was no suggestion, from any of the charities, that he took a pal along to help with the work? I’m thinking of Dawlish.’
‘No, we asked. He was always alone, sir. Some of the organisers wondered if he had a girlfriend, and one — Age Concern — suggested he might like to bring a girlfriend along to help him in the shop on Saturday afternoons. But he simply said he had no time for girlfriends.’
‘So apart from the rallies, Dawlish does not appear to have involved himself with Browning’s world?’
‘That’s right, sir.’
‘And during his work for the charities, Browning never gave any reason for the supervisors to be worried about his behaviour or his attitude to others, staff and patients alike?’
‘Far from it, sir, he was trusted completely. Everyone said that.’
‘I hope you gave no suggestion we were interested in him as a murder suspect!’
Tony Browne grinned. ‘No, sir, we said it was to try and clarify a few details about his fatal accident; I said we were anxious to eliminate the question of suicide. We told them that we’re satisfied it was a tragic accident, due probably to brake failure, but that we had to look at other possibilities. They were happy to talk about him once that had been established.’
‘So it seems we have exhausted enquiries into Browning’s background and movements?’
‘I think we have, sir. So far as this enquiry in its present form is concerned, we have covered everything we can. We can sum it up by saying Browning did attend rallies close to the scene of every Sandal Strangling, at the material times — with the exception of the first and last killings. But we have been unable to place him at the scenes themselves, other than the very first when he turned up later and gave a false name. His leisure activities were geared towards helping those less fortunate than himself, and his only relaxation was his MG and the rallies.’
‘Sexual orientation? You tried to determine that?’
‘He was a gentle person, sir, for a man, not a rugger player or rock-climbing type. He had several friendships with girls — one from his office for a while, but it never developed. She has been interviewed, sir — there was never any sexual relationship between them, and the woman said he was too shy and reserved for her. She felt he was extremely reserved in the company of women, those were her words.’
‘In that sense, he’s like a lot of rapists and those who assault women, but it seems to fit his personality. A complex man, you think?’
‘Not really, sir. He just seems to have devoted himself to work and caring for others, even to the exclusion of married happiness or a sexual relationship with a woman. He never seemed anxious to share his life or his home with anyone else, even in the short term. A loner, sir.’
‘A sort of self-imposed penance, perhaps?’
‘Penance, sir?’
‘People who have committed a grievous sin may want to make amends in some way. That’s part of Chri
stian teaching, or religious teaching in a wider sense. I wonder if, having committed a murder, he decided to spend the rest of his life doing penance? If he had killed a woman, it would make his subsequent relationships with women very difficult — perhaps he could never trust himself when alone with one. Having listened to your account, I’m increasingly worried that we might have been chasing along the wrong track.’
‘In what way, sir?’
‘Think about what you have just said. You’ve told me about a young man who appears to have spent his life making amends for some past wrong he’d committed. Suppose it was murder, a murder for which he was never prosecuted or even suspected. From my point of view, it does look as if he’s spent years trying to assuage his conscience, trying to make amends for some bygone moments of evil…and that suggests to me that he did not commit the Sandal Stranglings.’
‘Go on, sir.’
‘It suggests he committed one murder, a long long time ago, and his subsequent behaviour squares with that and with his confession. During his life he made his peace with himself, and at the point of death, he made his peace with God.’
‘He took a long time to come around to the idea of admitting it to his priest.’
‘Exactly. It must have been weighing on his conscience all these years. He gave up practising his faith, his father told me. Whatever he did, I think he could not bring himself to openly confess his sin to anyone, not even a priest, and that happened only when he knew he was about to die. I don’t think he confessed to other murders earlier. This was his final chance to confess. His very last act of conscience.’
‘All right, so far as Browning’s concerned, we are no further forward and might even have come to a full stop.’
‘Precisely, but in my view, it leaves the field open for Hugh Dawlish. Like Browning, he’s been in the vicinity of all the Sandal Stranglings, but we don’t know a lot about him. Thanks for the chat, you’ve helped crystallise my thoughts. You’ll update our records?’
Confession (The Mark Pemberton Cases Book 3) Page 18
