The Twisted Web (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series book 4)

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The Twisted Web (Detective Hannah Robbins Crime Series book 4) Page 13

by Rebecca Bradley


  I left Ross to chase up the fingerprints and I went to my office to update my policy log from the evening and while I was there I went to check on the email Aaron had told me I had missed.

  It was there, halfway down my screen. Still unopened. He was right. Not that I had doubted him.

  Damn.

  We would have to deal with it as best we could. Even though I felt Aaron was tying my hands behind my back by not disclosing his Asperger’s.

  Ross knocked on my door and walked in. ‘Lacey Nettleton, twenty-two years, the girl from the garage…’

  ‘Tell me more,’ I said.

  ‘She doesn’t have a serious record just a juvenile shoplifting offence.’

  There was a strange look on his face. ‘Are you okay, Ross?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s just I recognise her now.’

  ‘What? You know her?’ I didn’t want this to be true, for this to touch one of us so personally. Ross had already been through enough on this unit.

  ‘No, not like that. She’s also known as Lacey Lane.’ He looked shocked. ‘I didn’t recognise her immediately from the photograph that came back but then it gradually sunk in.’

  ‘Am I supposed to know who Lacey Lane is?’ I asked.

  Incredulity crossed his face. ‘You’ve never heard of her?’ He came further into the office.

  ‘Grab a seat, Ross.’

  He pulled a chair out and sank into it. ‘Lacey Lane is Nottingham’s very own social media star. She has over a million Instagram followers and has brand names lining up to pay her to advertise their products in her photos.’

  I leaned back in my chair. ‘What does she do?’

  ‘She’s an Instagram star. A social media icon.’

  ‘You said that.’ It unsettled me that we had another link to the previous killer: both victims appeared to have a link to the internet. How the hell were we supposed to police that? ‘What I want to know is, what she does for a living.’

  Ross barked out a laugh, looked at my face then reined himself in. ‘You’re serious.’

  I didn’t need to answer him.

  ‘She doesn’t have a job, Boss.’

  I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

  ‘She makes her money by doing what she does online.’

  ‘How does she do that? How can you make money by talking about yourself online and by taking photographs of yourself?’

  ‘As her social profile grew, products took more notice and, as I mentioned, they then pay for their products to be placed in her photos. They pay for her to visit places and be photographed there. She’s an attractive girl and she took great photos. She had a real artistic flair and seemed to take off. People can cash in on the opportunities online. Just look at the diet gurus and the fitness gurus who start on Instagram and YouTube. They’re loaded and famous.’

  I shook my head. ‘Just because she took a good photo?’

  ‘That and she also captioned them well. She had a sharp wit, a sharp tongue. She was a clever young woman. From what I read it started as a pastime, as social media is for the rest of us, but hers took off.’

  ‘Wait a minute. You have social media accounts?’

  He flicked his hand through his hair. ‘Well, yeah, of course. For nights out with my mates. For being, you know… social.’

  To become famous just because you were on social media, that was beyond me.

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Do we have a home address for Lacey?’

  ‘Yeah, she lives alone. She had enough to buy her own pad.’

  Of course she did. ‘What about next of kin, do we know anything?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not as yet. It would have helped if she lived with her parents.’

  ‘We’ll do a search of her home, see if there is anything there that can help us. We’ll also see if there is a vehicle outside registered to her. It may have a previous address listed if she had it before she moved and that address might be her parents’.’

  Ross stood. ‘Sounds like a plan, Boss.’

  ‘And, Ross.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Good work on identifying her alter-ego.’

  ‘No worries.’

  We now had a victim and so far, no way to tell her parents she was dead.

  40.

  I sent Aaron home. He argued but I could see he didn’t have the energy to put up a long fight with me so I stood my ground and in the end he relented. That left just me and Ross to attend Lacey’s.

  There were no other people listed for her address on the Voters register but that didn’t mean that there would be no one here. Sometimes people moved in after the voters had been recorded.

  It was a smart apartment block on Hollowstone, Lace Market, and Lacey’s apartment was a couple of floors up. I knocked on the door. There was no response. I knocked again. Harder this time.

  Still no reply.

  ‘What now?’ asked Ross.

  I tried the door handle. It turned in my hand and the door shifted as I pushed. The apartment was insecure. Ross and I shared a look.

  ‘Ready?’ I asked in a low whisper. We had no idea if there was anyone still inside.

  He nodded.

  My heart thudded in my chest. As cops we always moved towards the danger, but we wouldn’t be quite human if we didn’t feel nervous. This girl had been murdered. We had no idea where and we were about to enter her home which was insecure. Her killer could be behind this door, collecting trophies, not expecting the police to turn up yet.

  As quietly as possible I pushed the door open and peered inside. Listened. There was no sound. A silence filled the space.

  I nodded at Ross and stepped forward and identified myself. ‘This is the police, let us know if you are in here.’

  The silence expanded around us.

  Ross moved around me and headed to the kitchen.

  I shouted again.

  ‘Be careful,’ I said as Ross moved further away.

  I flicked a wall switch and the room flooded with light. I paused. This was where it had happened, in this airy and open living area. This was the original crime scene. A vase of flowers was smashed on the floor. Water seeped out and petals lay crushed and broken in the glass. The coffee table the vase had fallen from was pushed sideways into the TV stand. The TV hanging off the stand and held upright still by the wall it had fallen into.

  Cushions from the sofa were flung round the room.

  Ross came up behind me. ‘All clear through there.’ An intake of breath. ‘Shit.’

  ‘Yeah. We need to get the CSU here. And we need to make sure he’s not still here while avoiding the main area.’ I turned to him. ‘Let’s check the bedroom and any wardrobes, cupboards, etc.’

  ‘You think he’s going to have hung around, Boss?’

  ‘I doubt it, but I’m not asking the CSU to come into a crime scene I haven’t cleared.’ He nodded again.

  In silence we checked the rest of the apartment then left without disturbing anything. Though we had avoided the main living area where the damage was, the CSU team would still not be happy we had traipsed through their scene. I on the other hand was completely happy with my grounds for doing so. Safety over evidence every time.

  Outside Ross made a phone call then scribbled a few notes in his pocket book.

  ‘Is a team heading out?’ I asked.

  His pen stopped in mid-air. ‘They’re all tied up. It might take a while. They’ve asked that it be secured until they get here so I’ve spoken to the control room inspector and requested a uniform presence to guard the door.’

  ‘Good job. Thanks.’

  He smiled. A boyish smile. He always looked younger than he was. It sometimes surprised me that anyone took him seriously with his boyband looks. But, they did and he got the job done. In fact, he was good at his job and very enthusiastic about it. It was probably because he was so easy and relaxed about what he was engaged in that others relaxed around him.

  ‘We need to do house-to-house inquiries as soon as we’re free
d up from guarding this door,’ I said.

  Ross finished up his notes, flipped the notebook shut and shoved it in his back pocket. He looked at his watch.

  ‘I know it’s late.’ I was tired too, it had been a long few days. ‘But she was killed here. We need to know if anyone saw or heard anything. We can’t leave it until tomorrow.’

  Heavy footsteps climbed the stairs. I knew these were our uniformed support without needing to see. Round the corner came Tony Hitchen, a young PC who had secured the scene of one of our previous cases. Back then he had been brand new to the job and particularly anxious. I had given him some guidance and attempted to reassure him. And here he now was. Attending another of our crime scenes.

  ‘Hello, Tony.’ I smiled at him.

  ‘Ma’am.’ He smiled back, still with a slightly nervous look to him. But he had obviously grown in the job, settled in, made it his own. It was natural for supervisors to make young-in-job officers a little anxious.

  ‘It’s good to see you again. Even if it’s at another crime scene,’ I said.

  ‘I won’t make such a mess of this one,’ he replied.

  Ross looked from me to Tony and back again, confused.

  ‘You didn’t mess up last time. We all have to learn somewhere and I hope our conversation helped you.’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am, it most certainly did.’ He looked at the door. ‘This the one I’m here for?’

  I told him it was and that Ross and I were going to do the house-to-house. He shoved his gloves in his pocket and opened the scene log. He’d register the location, date and time, everyone who was present and then anyone else who entered and left and at what precise times. He was also responsible for preventing people from entering the premises. That included police officers if they didn’t need to be in there. The fewer people inside the crime scene the better. The CSU were always grateful for a strong cordon.

  Ross and I began the door-to-door. We split up to make it quicker.

  With a loud rap I knocked on the door next to Lacey’s. It took two other attempts before someone opened up.

  ‘What the hell?’ A male in his early forties opened the door wearing pyjama bottoms and with bare feet.

  I explained who I was and that I needed to ask him some questions about his neighbour and he let me in.

  The apartment was a mirror image of Lacey’s. Identical but turned the opposite way around. I could look at this one and see it for what it was, in a way I couldn’t next door. It was a beautiful space. Bright, open and modern. Gorgeous sash windows letting in the inky night. A large dining area was to the side of the living area. Which in itself wasn’t shabby.

  ‘You said this was about my neighbour?’ he prompted.

  ‘Oh, yes. Can I ask what time you got in this evening please?’ I took out my pocket book and pen.

  ‘Can I ask why?’ he answered.

  It was going to be like that.

  ‘There’s been an incident and we’d like to know if you can help us. To know if that’s possible, it would be a start if we knew what time you were home.’ I gave him a smile. ‘And who else is in the apartment and what time they were home.’ I looked around again. There were no obvious signs of a female touch. Yes, the place was nice enough, and I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it screamed male residence only.

  He let out a long sigh as though I was causing him some real trouble.

  ‘I’m sorry it’s so late, Mr…?’

  He sighed again. I hated these visits. They would be over a lot quicker if people answered the questions without telling us how much of an imposition it was. We knew it was difficult having the police in your house. Though it was a lot worse for the young woman next door.

  ‘Thomas, Dan Thomas,’ he said eventually, when he had finished releasing all the air out of his lungs.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Thomas. Anyone else?’ I prodded.

  ‘No, no one else. It’s just me you’re disturbing.’

  I did my best not to roll my eyes. ‘I’ll try to be quick,’ I promised. ‘So,’ I continued, ‘what time would you say you have been home since?’

  He looked at the clock on the wall. Eleven-thirty p.m. We really weren’t going to be popular. ‘I’ve been in since about three today.’ He stalked over to the dining table and grabbed a cardigan that was hooked on the back of one of the chairs, threaded his arms through the sleeves then wrapped the front across himself.

  I nodded my thanks to him. ‘You don’t work?’

  He looked as though he was going to sigh again, then stopped and just stared at me. ‘Day off.’

  I continued. ‘And did you hear anything from next door between then and now?’

  ‘To be honest I don’t even know who lives next door. I pretty much keep myself to myself. I’m a private person.’

  I was getting that impression.

  ‘You’ve never bumped into her when you’ve been coming or going?’ I asked.

  ‘Nope.’

  He didn’t want to talk to me.

  ‘You didn’t hear anything?’ This guy was right next door to her when it happened. He was our best bet for a lead and here he was, showing the most disinterest I’d seen from a witness

  ‘I’ve said that.’ He looked at the clock again.

  I persisted. ‘What about seeing anyone suspicious when you came home at three? Or anyone that gave you cause for concern in the days leading up to this evening?’

  He pulled at his cardigan and looked at the clock again. It was an obvious move to tell me he’d had enough. This was important and I wasn’t going to let discomfort dictate my job.

  ‘No one.’

  ‘Have any of your neighbours informed you that they’ve been worried about anything or anyone?’

  ‘Look, what is this?’ he asked at last, fed up of trying to avoid giving me proper answers.

  ‘As I said when I knocked, Mr Thomas, there has been an incident next door and we need to know if you have seen or heard anything. Today or in the days leading up to the incident.’

  He took in the expression on my face and shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen anything. I’m not a big fan of people. Like I said, I keep myself to myself.’ He moved towards the door. ‘Now, if that’s all?’

  I hated when people were unhelpful, but I couldn’t make them talk to me. ‘I need to take your details.’ He glowered at me. ‘For our records, you understand.’ His eyebrows sank over his eyes.

  With a little cajoling I managed to obtain his contact details and date of birth. I wasn’t sure how much I believed his story about not knowing Lacey. I mean, I lived in an apartment and liked to keep to myself, but I still saw my neighbours as we came and went about our business. Not often, but I had seen them. No one lives in a vacuum. How feasible was it that you could never see the person you lived next door to?

  I crossed with Ross and we both went to visit a couple of different neighbours and when we were done we met up on the landing again. We had done this floor and the floor below as well as the one above. Several had refused to answer. I didn’t believe they weren’t in. It was more likely they weren’t getting up at this hour and answering the door to strangers.

  ‘We’re heading back to the incident room now, Tony. Thanks for doing this,’ I said as we walked towards the stairs.

  ‘My pleasure, Ma’am.’

  I’m sure it wasn’t, no one enjoyed standing on their own guarding a home, but I admired his enthusiasm.

  ‘What did we get?’ I asked Ross as we buckled into the car.

  ‘A couple of people said they didn’t hear anything, then when they realised we were here and asking because an incident had occurred they were more helpful. Said they did hear something but hadn’t thought much of it because it wasn’t that loud. There was a crash and a bit of… scraping was the way they described it. Poor people looked horrified to think they heard an event that they could have halted if they had been more concerned but they said it just wasn’t that loud. It could easily have passed for a row between a cou
ple or even Lacey moving some furniture on her own.’

  I pulled out into the road, which was quiet. The usually busy roads muted for the night.

  ‘Did they see anyone?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not that they can remember. Though one old woman seems to recall a man she didn’t recognise walking out with a suitcase but she figured him for a taxi driver for one of the other tenants.’

  I took my eyes off the road and turned to him. ‘How big was the suitcase?’

  ‘I asked her that. She said it was huge. Plenty of room to fit everything you need for a holiday, for two people, and more.’

  My focus was back on the road but my mind was now elsewhere. ‘Did she describe this taxi driver? Would she recognise him again?’ A frisson of excitement ran up my spine.

  There was silence from the other seat.

  ‘Ross?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  I turned again.

  ‘She wasn’t wearing her glasses. She’d just popped next door to see her friend and was heading back home. She said she’s practically blind without them so she couldn’t describe him and wouldn’t recognise him again. But…’ He trailed off.

  My mood sunk.

  ‘She said he was wearing dark clothing and one of those tops with a hood and it was pulled up so she couldn’t see his face anyway.’

  This was our man.

  ‘And the suitcase,’ I slowed for a car that pulled in front of me at speed from the road on the left. The problem with quiet roads at night, drivers tended to think no one else was about and drove a bit more erratically. ‘Big enough for a petite person.’

  41.

  Aaron sat at the table, head bent over a piece of paper, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him.

  Lisa walked into the kitchen. ‘Hey,’ she said as she dropped into the chair at the side of him and looked down at the drawing he had created so far. The mug with steam rolling out of it, the kitchen units lifting up behind it. The detail was so defined.

 

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