by Carol Wyer
‘I have to ask this: can you account for your movements on Saturday evening?’
‘I walked into town. I’d planned on having a drink with friends but they cried off; instead, I had a couple of pints in the snooker rooms on Bridge Road and went home about ten.’
‘Did you play snooker with anyone?’
‘I wasn’t in the mood. I watched a match for a while but I sat on my own. If you must know, I’d had a bit of a row with my wife and I went out to cool off.’
‘What was the argument about?’
‘I really don’t think that’s any of your business.’
‘The thing is, Rachel was murdered on Saturday night in Marston Street, only a couple of streets away from the snooker rooms.’
He slapped both hands on his thighs and in an exasperated tone said, ‘Oh, come on! You don’t think I killed her, do you?’
‘It would help us eliminate you if you could prove your whereabouts Saturday night.’
‘Somebody must have noticed me drinking alone. Couldn’t you ask at the bar?’
‘Who served you?’
‘Some bloke. I didn’t pay him much attention. I was down in the dumps. I’ve had a bad few months.’
Natalie tried a different approach. ‘Do you recognise this man?’ She showed him a photo of Dominic Quinn.
‘I recognise him. I’ve seen him a few times in the store.’
‘Have you ever spoken to him?’
‘Yes. I had to go to the men’s department to discuss an order with Rachel but she was helping him choose outfits. She asked me for my opinion on a shirt he was trying on. I told them both it suited him.’
‘Did you see him again?’
‘He was often browsing in the men’s department, or chatting to Rachel. He was what you would call a snappy dresser.’
‘He seemed friendly with Rachel?’
‘Rachel chats to all the customers. She gives them personal shopper advice. He was one of her regulars so yes, they were friendly.’
‘Have you ever seen either of these women?’ She passed him photographs of Amelia and Katie and scrutinised his reaction, a lowering of the brow but no flash of recognition. He handed back the pictures.
‘I don’t think I have.’
‘What about a man called Tommy Field?’
‘Name doesn’t mean anything to me.’
She described Tommy as best she could but was met with a blank look.
‘Sorry, no.’
‘Okay, let’s talk about Rachel and Eugene again.’
He shifted position instantly, arms folded protectively across his chest. Natalie’s phone vibrated and she checked the screen. It was Lucy. ‘Would you excuse me a second?’ She crossed the room and took the call. ‘Hi, Lucy.’
‘I’m at Prince’s Park. We’ve found Eugene in the toilets here. He’s been killed the same way as the others. Pinkney’s put the time of death between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. today.’
‘I’ll meet you there.’ She glanced across at the man. He was dampening his lips nervously. Something was troubling him. He was uncomfortable with talking about Rachel and Eugene again.
‘Mr Chester, have you been at home all day?’
‘No.’
‘Can you tell me where you were today between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m.?’
‘Out.’
‘Where exactly?’
‘Out.’
‘I need to know where?’
‘I went for a drive.’
‘Where did you go?’
He shook his head.
‘Where did you go?’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘I suggest you remember quickly. Did you go anywhere near Prince’s Park?’
‘I might have done. I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t remember. I drove around Samford. I needed to be alone. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
The repetition of his response, together with his hands that instinctively covered his throat as he spoke, suggested he was lying. ‘I’d like you to arrange for somebody to look after your little boy. I need you to come to the station to clear this up and determine where you actually went Saturday night and earlier today.’
‘Can’t it wait until my wife comes home?’
‘I’m afraid not. Eugene’s body has been discovered in Prince’s Park.’
Bradley Chester dropped his head into his hands and released a long groan.
Natalie found herself once more in Prince’s Park. She’d arranged for an officer to escort Bradley Chester to the station and now stood on the path in front of a purpose-built brick building, the public toilets, half-hidden behind bushes.
Mike explained their findings. ‘The grass has been flattened by somebody standing here.’ He pointed at the area in question, damp grass, flattened to the soil by feet that had shifted position several times.
‘Somebody was lying in wait for him?’
‘Quite possibly.’
‘Which begs the question, how did they know he’d be here? Did you find a mobile phone?’
‘Yes. It was in his pocket. The last call made from it was at 10.20 a.m. We haven’t examined it thoroughly yet. If you look here, you’ll see this is where there was a struggle. The grass is churned and mud stains on the soles of Eugene’s shoes more than likely came from this area. Obviously, we’ll need to confirm they did but I think you can safely work on that premise.’
‘Any chance you can identify the assailant’s footwear?’
‘We’ve taken casts where possible. We might well find something useful. Julia Davidson says the writing is in the same or similar ballpoint pen – a cheap variety. Again, it needs confirming but we’re fairly confident.’
‘Anything else to go on?’
‘That’s all for now. I’m waiting for the body to be removed and then we’ll go in and check for evidence.’
‘I’ll admit I’m baffled, Mike. Rachel, Dominic and Eugene, all with the word “guilty” written on their foreheads, and two teenagers, without any such message and seemingly unconnected to them. Then there’s the fact the killer knew their victims’ movements: that Dominic would be at school early, Rachel would walk along Marston Street and Eugene was in town. How did they know?’
‘They stalked their victims first or even contacted them in some way?’
Natalie nodded at the suggestions. ‘Were any calls made to Eugene’s phone? I wonder if the killer arranged to meet him here.’
‘There was a large number of calls, many of which were no doubt from well-wishers after the news about Rachel broke. You’ll have your work cut out checking each and every one of them.’
‘I see no other option because I can’t see why else the man would come here if it weren’t for a meeting,’ said Natalie.
Mike could only offer a half-smile. ‘Unless he was going for a walk in the park and stopped to use the toilet.’
Natalie heaved a sigh. ‘That’s actually a possibility, isn’t it? This case is perplexing beyond belief.’
‘You’ll work it out.’
‘But when? After another ten people have died!’ The sound of rustling halted the conversation.
Andy and Murray appeared. Andy took one look at the doors and made a clicking noise with his tongue. ‘Toilets ought not to be gender-specific. The council should know better.’
‘Give it a rest, mate,’ said Murray.
‘Just saying.’
‘You seen the deceased yet?’ Murray asked Natalie.
‘I only got here a few minutes ago. Mike’s been bringing me up to speed.’
Murray gave a weary nod. ‘It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? A body a day. We’re a bloody laughing stock. The sodding press are here with their vans and presenters, as well as the usual bunch of bloodthirsty journalists, and Superintendent Tasker is on his way. This particular murder has sent the top brass skidding about. I wouldn’t be surprised if we get pulled off the case.’
Natalie shook her head. ‘We’re the best crime unit they have. They won’t remove us
. Is Lucy about?’
‘She’s over by the far entrance, waiting for the super.’
‘I’ll talk to her before he arrives.’
She followed the path, a huge semicircle that passed a football-sized field used for ball sports. She could see Lucy, phone to her ear, several minutes before she reached her, by which time she’d ended the call. Lucy rubbed the back of her neck with both hands and let out an elongated expletive: ‘Fu-uck!’
‘I’ve detained Bradley Chester. He was sacked from his position at Hardy’s and replaced by Rachel. He claims it was a deliberate move and he harbours a great deal of resentment over it. He has no strong alibi for Saturday night or today. He says he doesn’t remember where he went. We’ll have to check him out and see if he might also have had reason to kill Dominic or the teenage girls. He claims not to know Katie or Amelia but admits he saw Dominic in the store a few times. Maybe he even suspected Rachel and Dominic were having an affair. We need to give the super something, and at the very least we can tell him we’re interviewing a man in connection with the deaths, which will buy us time with him and the press.’
Lucy blew out a sigh from between pursed lips. ‘That’s something, I suppose. The techies are looking into all the calls made to and from Eugene’s phone since Rachel’s death. The killer might have made contact and lured Eugene here.’
‘Or they simply followed him to the park and seized their opportunity. Might have been trailing him for a while.’
‘Yeah.’ Lucy’s face crumpled.
‘Whoever we’re dealing with is damn clever,’ said Natalie.
‘And supremely confident. They kill in areas where they’re confident they won’t be spotted, even during broad daylight, and take time to leave their calling card on the victims’ foreheads.’
‘While Tommy’s missing, he remains a suspect. Is there anything more we can do to locate him?’
‘Celeste’s using all her old contacts to arrange a meet with a local drug dealer to establish who Tommy bought from, or if he actually dealt, and I’ve got one of the tech team trying to find out if he rents any other flats. There’s nothing on him. Tommy Field might not even be his real name. Shit! The super’s here.’
Dan’s car pulled into view.
Natalie kept talking. ‘It’s important we tell him about the footage of Eugene with Katie by the warehouse. It links Eugene to three of the dead victims: his daughter, her lover and the teenager. He lied to us about knowing her, which begs the question why.’
Lucy’s finger was pressed to her forehead, her attention drawn away from her superior now climbing out of his vehicle. ‘But what about Amelia? We haven’t anything to link her to Eugene other than she solicited near Samford Primary School, where Dominic worked. She might have known Dominic, but did she know Rachel and Eugene? I don’t know… am I missing something?’ She stared at the ground for a moment. ‘This might be clutching at straws but maybe Amelia and Katie saw or knew something that got them killed.’
‘I’d consider it a possibility. Both girls worked on the streets. They might have witnessed something.’
Dan had reached the gates. His face was set to grim. ‘What a holy mess! Are we certain it’s the same killer?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Okay, let’s walk and talk. I’ve got top brass breathing on my back, and you’ve got some serious convincing to do if you’re going to continue to run this investigation.’
Lucy glanced at Natalie. Everything depended on her and what she told Dan. Natalie gave her a quick nod of encouragement and mentally crossed her fingers.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Monday, 4 November – Night
Bradley kept his gaze lowered. Lucy repeated her question. ‘Can you explain where you were earlier today?’
‘No.’
‘You understand by keeping quiet, you are making this all the more difficult for yourself?’
The duty solicitor glanced at Bradley, who didn’t raise his head. ‘My client has explained he was depressed and doesn’t recall where he drove.’
‘Yes, he has. I wonder then if he could explain this.’ She pushed across a photograph, a capture of a blue Honda Jazz. ‘Bradley, is this your vehicle?’
The man snivelled and blinked but wouldn’t look at the picture. Lucy pushed it closer towards him. ‘Please look at the photo.’
He rested pink-rimmed eyes on it and nodded.
‘This picture was taken at 12.05 p.m. today and clearly shows a blue Honda Jazz registered to your address.’
‘It’s my car.’
‘It also shows the driver. Can you confirm that?’
‘Yes. I am the driver.’
‘This was captured by a CCTV camera close to Prince’s Park. Can you explain what you were doing there at that time?’
Bradley slouched further forward. ‘I was driving around.’
‘It seems an odd thing to do, just drive about. Where were you headed?’
‘I didn’t know. I was looking for somebody.’
‘Who?’
‘Someone.’
‘I asked you who you were looking for.’
‘It wasn’t Eugene.’
‘If you can’t be clearer than that, we’ll have little option than to keep you detained for longer. We still can’t verify your alibi for Saturday night, and until we do, you’ll have to remain here.’
‘No, surely you can’t keep me unless you can prove I had something to do with the deaths.’
Lucy rose to her feet and Natalie, who’d been sitting in, prepared to join her.
‘This interview will be suspended until we have further information to clear you from our enquiries.’
‘No, wait.’ He scratched at his forehead. ‘I was looking for a guy. I bought… I bought something… I bought drugs from him on Saturday night. I needed something to help me through all this shit.’
‘Who was this man?’
‘I only know him as BJ. He sells all sorts of gear. I had some pills from him. It took me ages to track him down on Saturday evening. I met him near the snooker rooms. Today, I needed something again, to help me through this rough patch. I was looking for him.’
‘Did you find him?’
‘Eventually, at the retail park, Millennium Point. Talk to him and he’ll tell you I bought some gear from him. You asked me what my wife and I rowed about on Saturday night – well, it was about that. She’d found out I’d been spending money on weed. I tried to explain it was only temporary, that I needed it to calm me down, but we argued. You can ask her.’
‘We shall. Until we’ve spoken to her, you’ll have to stay here.’
Lucy retreated from the interview room, where she and Natalie had wound up the interview with Bradley, dropped onto her chair and placed her feet on the desk, a half-drunk paper cup of black coffee in her hand. She shut her eyes, rested her head against the chair back and tried to slot all the pieces together to create a complete picture, but try as she might, they wouldn’t fit.
She rang Bradley’s wife, who confirmed the argument and supported Bradley’s claim he’d begun taking drugs. The technical team had uncovered more CCTV footage of his vehicle, placing him closer to the canal and then further away still from Prince’s Park, which proved he could not have been in the park at the time of Eugene’s death. They still had to trace BJ to check that he had sold Bradley drugs, but it seemed unlikely Bradley was their killer.
Dan was going to be hugely displeased at this latest development. He’d used the fact somebody was helping them with their enquiries to appease the press, who’d latched onto this news with enthusiasm. Now, they only had one suspect, a missing pimp – Tommy. She changed position, placed her feet back on the carpet and drained her cup. This was mental. The focus of the investigation had shifted away from the two girls who’d been murdered and was now on Eugene, his daughter and, to a lesser extent, her lover.
The media was up in arms about the death of one of the town’s most beloved citizens and his daughter
. The death of two sex workers carried less importance. Well, they mattered to Lucy, and all the deaths were connected. She could feel it in her veins. Her phone lit with a message, a photo of Aurora fast asleep in her bed, arms wide. Bethany had written, ‘Night, night, Lucy,’ and added a kiss. The warmth that ought to have accompanied the gesture, along with the sight of their beautiful baby, didn’t materialise. She waited for something, anything, any emotion at all, and when none rose to the surface, she threw the phone onto the desk, angry for closing herself off to them both. Things would be different once she resolved this case. Will they, though? Won’t there be another case followed by another, all taking their toll on you and your family?
Lucy shushed the voice in her head as she rose to her feet. This investigation had begun with Amelia and Katie, and the team would return to that point. The teenagers were the key to all of this. Maybe they’d witnessed something or were involved in it. Either way, Lucy was going to find out what the connection was, and then, when she did, she might be able to function as a normal human being and try to be a better partner and parent.
Murray was sprawled in the driver’s seat of the Jeep, head turned towards Al’s Kebab Shop. The huge photos of burgers and meat-filled wraps were making his stomach growl. He ought to have eaten more than an egg sandwich earlier.
‘I could murder a kebab,’ he muttered.
‘Stop staring at the shop window. It’ll only make you hungrier,’ said Celeste. ‘Here, have a sweet.’
‘Yum,’ he replied sarcastically but took the offered white pellet, flicked it into his mouth and chewed, the strong peppermint flavour exploding like toothpaste. It fell quiet again inside the car, both officers working their jaws.
Celeste swallowed and sank further into the seat. ‘I hope Andy and Ian are enjoying their sleep. I wouldn’t mind some myself.’
‘Sleep’s overrated, and besides, would you want to miss out on all this excitement?’
She grinned a reply. ‘Funny guy.’
‘Anyway, this has got to be better than working vice. There’s loads of night work, isn’t there?’
