Deadly Silence

by OMJ Ryan

  Jones turned to Bovalino. ‘Has a SOCO team been dispatched to the guv’s yet?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘Right. Call Evans and get him over there immediately. And send Entwistle to keep an eye on them too.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘I’ll call Brown, then I’ll arrange for uniform to guard the guv. Once they arrive, you and I can get over to her place and see what the hell went on there.’

  44

  As soon as Jones and Bovalino pulled up outside Phillips’s house, they were greeted by a sea of channel-branded news cars and trucks, some of whom were already broadcasting from outside the police cordon.

  The two got out of their vehicles. ‘How did this lot get here so quickly?’ said Bovalino.

  ‘Gossip travels fast in the GMP. It’s hard to keep a lid on anything these days, especially when it concerns the guv. The press love her. Bloody vultures.’

  As they approached the cordon, a few reporters peeled away from the press pack and approached them.

  ‘Detective, can you tell us if DI Phillips was attacked last night?’

  ‘Is it true DI Phillips fought off the man responsible for the Cheadle murders?’

  ‘Did the GMP release their prime suspect in the case just hours before DI Phillips was attacked?’

  By now they were surrounded by the rest of the pack, who continued to bombard them with questions. Bovalino pushed his way past them, then a uniformed officer raised the police tape and they ducked under it and into the relative quiet of the white SOCO tent at the front of the house.

  Inside, Entwistle greeted them in his white overalls. ‘Am I glad to see you two,’ he said, looking relieved. ‘I’ve never seen anything like that out there.’

  ‘It’s never easy once this lot get involved,’ Jones replied grimly. ‘God knows what their presence will do to Brown’s state of mind.’

  Bovalino pointed through the tent flap and across the street. ‘I think we’re about to find out.’

  Jones turned to see Brown rooted to the spot on the other side of the police tape, a host of logo’ed microphones under his nose. From where they stood, it was hard to hear what he was saying but, judging by his facial expression, he was deeply uncomfortable.

  Jones zipped up his suit, then pulled on protective shoe covers. ‘Great. That’s all we need.’

  A minute later, Brown managed to extricate himself from the crowd and entered the tent, ‘This case just keeps on getting better, doesn’t it?’ he muttered disconsolately.

  A chorus of lacklustre ‘sir’s greeted him.

  ‘What have we got, then?’

  ‘We’ve just arrived, sir,’ replied Jones. ‘But from we can ascertain so far, the guv was attacked in her home in the early hours of the morning. We believe she fought back and that her attacker escaped undetected. Sometime later, she used a silent 999 sequence to alert the police to her situation. A uniformed team arrived within ten minutes to find her unconscious on the floor. No forced entry.’

  ‘No forced entry? Could this be the same guy?’

  ‘We can’t rule it out, sir, but Phillips has made a lot of enemies over the years.’

  ‘Quite. Ok, what else?’

  ‘That’s all we know so far.’

  ‘That’s it?’

  ‘Like I said, sir, we arrived just a few minutes before you did.’

  The little Scotsman stepped closer to Jones. ‘I don’t know if it’s escaped your notice, Sergeant, but half the world’s media is now camped outside our latest crime scene. We need to tell them something positive, for Christ’s sake.’

  Jones locked his eyes on Brown’s, both fists clenched in his latex gloves. What he wouldn’t give to knock the little weasel on his backside right now, but that wouldn’t help find the guv’s attacker any quicker. ‘You could try telling them that DI Phillips survived a horrific attack in her own home last night. That she’s lucky to be alive, and being treated in hospital. That we wish her a speedy recovery…sir.’

  The penny appeared to drop for Brown, and his demeanour suddenly softened. ‘Of course. Sorry, how is she?’

  ‘Looks like a broken nose, a nasty cut above her eye, plus damage to her neck and throat. He beat her up pretty badly. She can hardly speak.’

  ‘My God, that terrible.’ Brown almost sounded concerned. Almost. ‘Still, at least it’ll stop her giving me earache all the time.’ Brown forced a chuckle.

  The team stared at Brown in silence, his attempt at humour clearly misjudged under the circumstances. Apparently sensing their disapproval, he grabbed a SOCO suit and stepped into it, looking as ridiculous as ever in the billowing overalls. ‘Right, let’s see if we can finally catch this bastard, shall we?’

  Jones didn’t need an excuse to get away from Brown. Exiting the tent, he walked into the house with Bovalino and Entwistle following closely behind.

  Inside, senior pathologist Andy Evans stood in the kitchen at the end of the hall. ‘Anything we need to know, Andy?’ asked Jones.

  ‘Looks like all the action happened right here. From what we see so far, the attack took place between where you’re standing and the front door.’ He pointed to the floor. ‘All the scuff marks and blood are centred around this area.’

  ‘Did we get any of his blood?’

  Evans shook his head. ‘Can’t say for certain until we test it, but from the blood spatter patterns, it’s consistent with one victim and matches the type of blood loss you’d see with a broken nose.’

  ‘Ok. Any other fluids that might give us a chance at DNA?’

  ‘Nothing as yet—’

  At that moment, Brown strode down the hall. ‘What have I missed?’

  Evans shuffled forwards so Brown could see him. He appeared to be the only man on the planet keen to impress him. ‘I was just saying, sir, that most of the action appears to have taken place in the hallway, where you’re standing. As of yet, we haven’t found anything that might identify our man.’

  Judging by his expression, this wasn’t the news Brown was hoping to hear. ‘For fuck’s sake, Evans. One of our officers suffered a brutal attack in a confined space – yet you and your team say there’s no evidence of the man involved. Surely there must be something he left behind?’

  Jones watched Evans’s face fall like a child being told he wasn’t good enough by a disapproving father. ‘We can only find what they leave behind, sir.’

  ‘That’s what you lot always say.’

  One of Evan’s forensic team appeared now, slightly out of breath. ‘I think you should see this, Andy.’

  Evans turned to face him. ‘What is it, Denning?’

  ‘We found a cigarette butt inside the perimeter of the garden. It looks fresh.’

  Brown didn’t hesitate. ‘Show me, sonny.’ Accompanied by Denning, he marched through Phillips’s kitchen and out into the garden.

  The rest of the team followed, stopping at the end of the path by a wooden gate that opened through a concrete wall. Jones noted it was padlocked from the inside.

  Denning crouched and used a gloved finger to point to the cigarette butt almost hidden from view on top of the soil at the base of the wall. ‘It was hard to spot at first because of all the plants, but the good news is that the shrubbery covered it from any rain we had last night, so we should still be able to pull DNA from it.’

  ‘Excellent work, sonny.’ Brown sounded excited.

  Jones looked up at the garden wall. ‘Any chance it could have been tossed over from the alley?’

  Denning stood up. ‘It’s possible, but unlikely it would land so close to the wall. That’s a good ten feet high, which means you’d need a decent trajectory to clear the wall from the alley. In which case, the butt would land much closer to the path.

  ‘Any footprints?’ asked Bovalino.

  ‘No, that’s the odd thing. The soil has been turned over, you know, with a garden fork or something.’

  Bovalino screwed up his face. ‘He did that, yet left a cigarette butt behi
nd? That’s a bit careless, isn't it?’

  ‘Not to mention the fact it was freezing last night. That soil would’ve been like concrete,’ said Jones.

  Brown cut in. ‘Well, if it’s the same guy as the Cheadle murders, it looks like his usual plans for finishing off his victims were scuppered by Phillips fighting back. He obviously left in a hurry. He’s finally messed up and left something behind. Excellent work, Denning. You too, Evans.’

  Jones wasn’t so sure. A brutal murderer, who so far had left no trace, suddenly leaving a cigarette butt behind after removing his footprints from the mud? It seemed out of character for their guy.

  ‘How long before we can check for DNA?’ Brown asked Evans.

  ‘It’s not the quickest of processes, I’m afraid, but I’m sure, with this being an attack on a copper, we can pull some strings at the lab and have results in a few days.’

  ‘And what if we’re simply trying to match one suspect whose DNA is already on file?’

  ‘Much quicker. Tomorrow, under the circumstances.’

  ‘Tonight, sonny.’

  Evans smiled awkwardly. ‘I’ll do my best, sir.’

  ‘That’s what I like to hear!’ Brown was all smiles now. He headed back into the house, draping his arm across Evan’s back as they walked together and shared a private joke.

  Jones turned away and watched while Denning took photos and measurements of the cigarette butt and surrounding areas. He checked his watch: 11.40 a.m. He figured they should have completed Phillips’s tests by now. Hopefully she would be up for answering a few questions about her attacker.

  He tapped Bov on the arm. ‘Fancy coming to see the guv?’

  ‘Bloody right, I do.’

  Jones pulled Entwistle close to him, out of Denning’s hearing. ‘You buying this cigarette stuff, Entwistle?’

  ‘Seems a bit sloppy for our guy, if I’m honest. Not to mention convenient for the investigation.’

  ‘Good lad. Neither are we. Head back to Ashton House with Brown and let us know as soon as the DNA results come in.’

  ‘Gotcha.’

  ‘Me and Bov are off to visit the guv, see if there’s anything she can remember about last night. She’s the key to catching this guy. I can feel it in my bones.’

  45

  Phillips was sitting up in the bed in her private room when Jones and Bovalino flashed their IDs and stepped past the two uniformed officers stationed at her door. Hooked up to a multitude of machines and an intravenous drip, she broke into faint smile when she saw them arrive.

  ‘How you feeling, Guv?’

  ‘Like I’ve been hit by a bus, Jonesy. He really did a number on me, didn’t he?’ Her voice was husky and strained, thanks to the damage to her throat.

  Bovalino stood at the end of the bed and rested his hands on the metal frame. ‘You’re lucky to be alive, that’s for sure.’

  Jones grabbed a couple of chairs and both men sat down as Phillips took a sip of water through a straw, wincing slightly as she did so.

  ‘Are you up for talking, Guv?’ asked Jones, observing her.

  Phillips nodded, though obviously still in pain.

  ‘Can you tell us what happened last night after you and I left the pub?’

  Phillips filled them in on her journey home via the grocery store to get more wine, and how she fell asleep on the couch with Floss before being woken up when Marty Michaels paid her a visit.

  ‘Marty?’ Jones sounded shocked.

  Phillips nodded. ‘Remember that message where he blew me off for Rebecca? When I replied, I asked him to call in one night after work. He did that last night.’

  Bovalino leant forwards. ‘Interesting. Do you remember what you said to the attending officers when they arrived at the house?’

  ‘No, what?’

  ‘According to Sergeant Hendricks, you kept saying “Guilty Marty” and pointing to your neck.’

  ‘Was he the man that attacked you, Guv?’ asked Jones.

  Phillips let out a husky chuckle. ‘Don’t be silly. Marty wouldn’t hurt me. No, I was referring to the attacker’s scent I could smell. I could have sworn it was Gucci Guilty.’

  Bovalino looked confused. ‘How does Marty fit in with that?’

  ‘It’s his favourite aftershave. His ex loved it, and he still wears it every day.’

  Jones frowned. ‘You’re sure it wasn’t Marty, then?’

  ‘Positive. This guy was much more agile. He moved incredibly quickly – his arms and legs were wrapped round me in a flash. Marty’s too lazy to stay in that kind of shape.’

  ‘So what happened, Guv?’

  Jones and Bovalino listened intently as Phillips talked them through her movements after saying goodnight to Marty, how she woke up on the couch at 3 a.m. and found both her doors open, and was then attacked by the man in her hallway.

  ‘Do you think it was the same guy who’s behind the church murders?’ asked Jones.

  Phillips nodded. ‘One hundred per cent.’

  Bovalino’s face twisted into a grimace. ‘What I don’t get is, why attempt to strangle you when he’s used a sedative to knock out all the other victims? Why not use that on you?’

  Phillips shifted her weight on the bed. ‘He had it with him. From my brief glimpse, it looked like a small dispenser about the size of a nasal spray. Once he’d grappled me to the floor, he tried to turn it on me. Luckily, I managed to punch it out of his hand. I was fighting with everything I had, so I guess he thought better of letting me go to retrieve it. Decided to choke me instead.’

  ‘And did you get a look at his face, or anything else that might help us identify him?’ said Jones.

  ‘No. He wore a dark hoody, so his face was covered in shadow, and he had some kind of mask across his nose and mouth.’

  ‘Mask? What, like a clown?’ asked Bovalino.

  Phillips laughed, but stopped immediately with a sharp wince. ‘That’s it, Bov. Put out an APB on Ronald McDonald. He’s our killer.’ She patted the edge of the bed nearest to him.

  Bovalino reddened slightly. ‘Sorry, Guv. When I think of masks, I immediately think of clowns. I bloody hate clowns.’

  ‘It was hard to see fully because of the hoodie, but it looked like a surgeon’s mask. You know, the ones everyone was wearing in London when the bird flu hit a few years ago.’

  Jones lowered his voice to avoid being overheard by the uniformed officers at the door. ‘You know Brown is still convinced it’s Logan, don’t you? He’s got Evans working up a DNA match as we speak.’

  ‘DNA match on what?’

  ‘A cigarette butt found in your garden, by the gate.’

  Phillips appeared confused. ‘Cigarette butt? What, and he thinks my attacker left it behind?’

  ‘He’s certain,’ said Bovalino.

  ‘But that doesn’t make any sense. Our guy is meticulous and methodical. He’s killed four people without leaving a single speck of evidence, and now he’s suddenly leaving a cigarette behind?’

  ‘Our thoughts exactly,’ said Jones.

  ‘And besides, the guy who did this to me didn’t smoke. He smelt fresh and clean. If he’d had a cigarette before he attacked me, I’d have smelled it. You know how I can smell stale smoke a mile off.’

  Jones smiled, recalling her regular complaints about the smell inside his car. He might have quit a year ago, but the odour was still noticeable under the air-fresheners. ‘So how did it get there?’ he asked.

  ‘Maybe the wind blew it in? It was pretty brutal last night,’ Bovalino replied.

  Phillips closed her eyes a moment and let out a small grimace. ‘Maybe, Bov. We’ll have to see what Evans and the team get from it.’

  ‘Are you ok, Guv?’ said Jones.

  ‘Yeah, just the painkillers wearing off. I’ll get the nurse to give me some more in a minute.’

  Jones stood. ‘We better leave you to get some rest. The nurse said we shouldn’t stay too long. There are two uniform coppers at your door, just in case our guy decide
s to try and finish what he started.’

  ‘Very reassuring, Jonesy,’ Phillips said with another grimace. ‘Send the nurse in on your way out, will you?

  Jones patted her on the wrist. ‘Will do, Guv. Rest up. We need you back in one piece ASAP.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Bovalino chimed in. He pointed at Jones. ‘Or one of us two will be going down for DCI Brown’s murder.’

  46

  It was a frustratingly slow afternoon for the team as they waited for developments from forensics. Jones and Bovalino finally lost patience and decided to canvas Phillips’s neighbours to see if they had seen or heard anything helpful, as well as taking another look at the crime scene. They’d left Entwistle with strict instructions to keep an eye on Brown, who was hungry for Logan’s blood and itching for a result. As soon as any news came in, he would call them.

  An hour earlier, Brown had looked very pleased with himself as he headed upstairs to share the latest development with Fox, who had recently returned from a meeting at the Town Hall. He was back now, a spring in his step.

  ‘You still here, sonny?’ he asked the young police officer.

  ‘Yes sir,’ Entwistle replied. ‘Just catching up on paperwork.’ He was actually compiling a dossier at Jones’s request of all the evidence that pointed to – as well as against – Matt Logan. Entwistle knew that if Brown found out, he’d be finished in the murder squad. At the same time, he’d come to realise what Bovalino had meant that day when he told him there were two types of coppers. He wanted more than anything to be the ‘thorough and determined’ type as opposed to ‘quick and easy’. In the imaginary fight for his soul, Phillips and the guys had won. Brown had lost.

  At around 6.45 p.m., Entwistle headed to the canteen to grab something hot before it closed for the night, or else he would be forced to eat packet sandwiches out of the machine. As a former university-level athlete, he tried to eat healthily, but since joining the team it wasn’t always easy, what with the long hours and shift work.