The Snow Killer

by Ross Greenwood

  ‘That sounds like the gangs down south. They aren’t afraid of the police.’

  ‘In a way. London has a population forty times bigger than Peterborough. I’ve worked these streets for years. Not only have I arrested and questioned most of the criminals, I’ve done the same to their parents. Celine seems out of our grip though. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that the worst part of our job is building a case on those who break the law, only to see them released from court when the judges give them another chance.’

  Strange nodded her head three times. ‘Or watch them get out of jail after they’ve served their meagre sentences just to carry on regardless. Have any charges stuck to Celine?’

  ‘We’ve never arrested her, and nothing has stuck to Britney the few times we hauled her in since she became an adult. That’s why with these two the case has to be built slowly. The evidence must be watertight and undeniable. Only on a conspiracy charge can these girls be given twenty years.’

  ‘Or murder?’

  ‘Yep, or murder. The thing is, this murder looks too sloppy for them. Why leave a body for a homicide investigation? All the necessary personnel and resources pour in. A big bright light shines on the area. The Chapmans won’t want that at all.’

  ‘They could have made a mistake.’

  ‘True. Many years of a Teflon existence can make you cocky and lead you to believe the police are stupid. That said, I don’t like them for this.’

  Barton closed his eyes to think but spoke aloud. ‘Britney goads the police at times, but little goes on in the Chapmans’ world without them knowing about it. It’s a source of pride between them.’

  ‘They’ll be on high alert if this wasn’t their work, then,’ said Strange.

  ‘Celine knows the police are far from dumb. However, she’s aware the authorities are bound by the rules.’

  ‘We follow the law. It isn’t a fair playing field when the other side don’t.’

  ‘No, but Celine will want this to go away fast.’

  They drove in silence. Barton unclenched his teeth. The reason DCI Naeem respected him so much was his ability to read people and his commitment to fairness. Even the crooks recognised an honest man, and they’d speak to him with respect. The Chapmans hid in plain sight and would be easy to find. Barton had agreed it with the boss. As soon as the post-mortem results arrived, he would pay them a little visit.

  He also grinned at his new sergeant’s performance today. With that kind of questioning, confidence and knowledge, she would be quite an asset.

  Strange broke the quiet.

  ‘By the way, you lot are really starting to piss me off.’

  19

  DI Barton

  Strange blurted out what had clearly been on her mind.

  ‘I know I can trust you, John. You’re the man in the department. Don’t think I don’t. I like a laugh, but the Strange thing gets me down. Even you did it back there. It’s the easiest joke in the world, and it is funny. But to me, it’s old. I’ve had it my entire life. The reason I left London was because it became relentless after I received promotion. The ones who were passed over said it because they knew it annoyed me. Even my DI mentioned it in meetings, and everyone would say “Strange” in an Inspector Clouseau voice. I spoke to him but he didn’t care. In the end, it got to me, and I asked for a transfer.’

  ‘Did you tell anyone here that when you arrived?’

  ‘No, I mentioned I have family in the area, but my parents moved away a while back. I love the police and hope for further promotion, but how can I achieve that if I’m a joke? I don’t want to mention the B word because I’d hate people getting into trouble. I’d also end up with a reputation as a grass. Zander, for one, loves saying it, but I suspect that’s his way of flirting.’

  Any accusation of bullying nowadays was dealt with swiftly. The guilty got demotion if they were lucky. He pondered his reply, leading her to interrupt.

  ‘Do you think I should take it on the chin, maybe change my name?’ The look on her face said she was only half joking.

  ‘Hell, no. That’s not a solution. We’re nearly all decent guys here, you know. I’ll put the word out and have a quiet chat in the right places. Zander would be gutted that it bothers you. There might be the odd joke while they get used to it, but I’m sure it’ll stop. Do you want us to call you Kelly from now on? How’s that?’

  ‘Not good enough. I want to be respected.’

  ‘You could assume a cool nickname, like Kickass?’

  ‘Kelly Kickass? I’d sound like a wrestler.’

  ‘Good point. Strange it is. Don’t worry, consider everyone told.’

  They parked in the Asda car park and wandered to Subway. Barton ordered for them both, while she chose a booth. He was contemplating probing about how she and Zander were working together, when their food arrived. Barton eyed his choice with suspicion. His arteries hardened with each bite of the chipotle cheesesteak on sunflower crunch bread, but stopping seemed impossible. He was relieved when Mortis’ call came through.

  ‘Afternoon, John. Have you got a moment?’

  ‘Fire away. I can’t believe I wish I’d ordered a tasty tuna salad.’

  ‘I find that unlikely. Anyway, I’ve completed the preliminary checks, and it’s almost as we suspected. A sharp implement into the spinal column would have caused paralysis as it was severed at T5. That’s about the middle of the back. The victim may have passed out. Let’s hope for his benefit he did. It’s reasonable to assume that our man was surprised from behind. By the direction of the damage, the person thrust upwards, so I’m guessing someone shorter than the deceased, although they could have crouched for extra leverage.

  ‘There’s nothing to show what kind of implement was used for the stab. A boning knife or a sharpened screwdriver are reasonable guesses, but it could have been anything metal in that shape.’

  ‘This injury didn’t cause the death, as I stated. A second weapon was used. On checking the neck tissue, it’s clear that the culprit sliced open the victim’s neck with a keen blade. Livor mortis shows that they died on their front. So, stabbed in the back, fell forward, possibly onto the knees, then a person from behind reached round and opened the carotid and jugular with something flat and sharp. They would have died fast; unconscious in less than ten seconds. The nurse found the body face-down, but she moved him to check his vitals.

  ‘The sides of the cut are clear and show signs of inflammation, meaning he was alive when the cut started. Further damage to the neck was most likely done by smallish animals as the cells here are not inflamed, showing us it was post-mortem. The sharp teeth of a fox look possible. Obviously, it’s a bit of a mess.

  ‘Further inspection shows mild liver and heart disease; probable cause is the history of intravenous injections over the body. Only a few of these marks are recent. Many appear to be years old, which indicates a reformed addict who relapses.

  ‘My friend had a quick glance at the splatter photograph and confirmed it looks like what might be seen after a neck has been opened up with one long cut. Not repeated stabs as we thought with the pointed weapon. He’ll have another look when he has more time.

  ‘The evidence from the injury to the vertebrae and ligaments in the neck is more compelling. A T-shaped incision indicates use of a non-serrated blade, as does the lack of a curve to the tail of the incision in the triangular region of depressed bone. We can test for fragments of the weapon left in the bone, as some skill would be needed.’

  Barton interrupted him. ‘Hold on, that last bit flew way over my head. What are you saying?’

  ‘My guess is that someone cut his neck from behind with an extremely sharp knife. Your victim wasn’t killed. He was executed.’

  20

  DI Barton

  Sure enough, when DS Strange pulled into the car park at the Herlington shops, the Chapman sisters’ monstrous Porsche SUV shone in its usual spot.

  ‘Wow, that’s quite a machine,’ said Strange.

&nbs
p; ‘Bricklaying must pay well.’

  ‘How do you want to play this, John?’

  ‘If they start shooting, stand in front of me.’

  ‘Which part of you?’

  Barton laughed out loud. Perhaps they would get along famously after all. ‘Let me do the talking. If they’re both there, the short one will shoot her mouth off. Just ignore her.’

  They parked in the far corner and walked up to the seemingly empty car. A door was open, and soft rock reached their ears. They found the younger Chapman basking in the winter sun. She lay in a reclined seat with a baseball cap over her face.

  ‘Afternoon, Britney. Hard at it, I see.’

  She didn’t lift her hat, but her body tensed.

  ‘I thought I could smell bacon. Can you move along? You’re blocking the sun.’

  ‘Is Celine about?’

  She pushed a button, and her seat resumed its normal position. With a quick leap, she jumped out of the car towards them. She was dressed boyishly as usual. She had a habit of getting in people’s personal space when she spoke to them. Barton inhaled the aroma of her shampoo.

  ‘Corporal Barton, always a pleasure. Looking for something for the weekend? Little bit of Viagra so you can keep up with your girlfriend here?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean. I need stuff to slow me down, stop me breaking people.’

  ‘Amusing as ever. Now, if you want information out of me, you’re going to require a warrant or a gun. Neither of which you seem to have.’

  ‘I’ve got a copy of the Daily Mail. I could rough you up with that for a bit if you like?’

  A voice distracted them from behind. It belonged to a tall, slim, elegant woman in a stylish suit. The contrast between the two sisters couldn’t have been greater.

  ‘Are you chatting my sister up again, John?’ Her face held no emotion.

  ‘She just gave me today’s menu.’

  ‘Shit, you got me. Put the cuffs on.’ Celine handed a can of Coke to her sister and turned back to them. ‘Let me guess, you’re here to accuse us of stabbing that guy to death. Now, you know that’s not our style. We run a peaceful construction business, you see. What do you really want? You need a nice conservatory up at your place? I can send a crew around. Just imagine, you and Mrs Barton sweating like two suckling pigs in an oven.’

  ‘Murders scare people, Celine,’ Barton said. ‘I’d place bets on you knowing the guy. Owe you money, did he?’

  She grinned back at him but without warmth. ‘No one owes me money.’

  She took a swig out of a bottle of water. Barton admired her long neck.

  ‘We can have a little chat over behind that van. Doesn’t do my rep any good to be seen talking to the likes of you.’

  Barton set off and Strange followed.

  ‘Not you, young lady. I don’t know you. Stay here, keep an eye on my sister. If she spills any of that sticky poison on my beautiful motor vehicle, give her some old-fashioned police justice.’

  When they got behind a large Transit and out of sight and earshot of the others, her facade slipped.

  ‘Yeah, I remember Terry. Small-time junkie. Hardly knew the guy. He occasionally hung out with Brick. Pair of idiots sat up for days playing Grand Theft Auto. Think they’re a couple of badasses shooting paper boys and shit.’

  ‘New competitor in town. Made you nervous?’

  ‘That guy had nothing to do with anything. He worked for us, years ago. That’s how Brick met him. They have the same IQ and got on like a house on fire. Terry hurt his back and couldn’t cope with bricklaying any more, so we let him go. I don’t think I’ve spoken to him since. Brick sees him occasionally.’

  ‘Where is your delightful boyfriend, Brick?’

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend, just someone I allow to have sex with me. No idea where he is. Give me your card. I understand you’ll want to speak to him, so I’ll get him to get in touch with you this evening.’

  Barton detected a tightness in her mouth and around her eyes. Her sister seemed on edge, too. He would know for sure if he kept quiet, and she kept talking. After a few seconds, she proved him right.

  ‘Things like this are bad for everyone here. Who knows why someone did a hit on him? Don’t you worry, I’ll be demanding answers. It’d be unwise to leave it up to your corrupt brotherhood, don’t you think, Officer Barton?’

  ‘We both want the same thing. We’ll catch whoever did it.’

  ‘Really? You wouldn’t be wasting your time talking to me if you had the first clue.’

  She strode off on her high heels. Brains and beauty are a deadly combo, thought Barton. She was right though. At the moment, they had hardly a thing to go on.

  21

  DI Barton

  Barton rang DCI Naeem again when he got back in the car and brought her up to date. She sounded under pressure. Anyone not busy was out knocking on doors that afternoon and there was a wash-up planned at 18:00 to discuss their progress. It would be a short one if the canvassers drew a blank.

  Strange queried the secret conversation Barton had with Celine. ‘She didn’t confess, then?’

  ‘Sadly not. Said it had nothing to do with her.’

  ‘She could be lying?’

  ‘Maybe. I don’t trust anything anyone tells me completely. We all have our secrets. When I first joined up, my sergeant told me to interview a suspected burglar. This guy trembled so much I was convinced he was guilty. He’d been seen leaving the house, too. I informed the sergeant it was definitely him. He laughed his head off.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’

  ‘No. He lived next door, which I didn’t know, and had gone to feed the cat. I learned a good lesson. Nearly everyone is jumpy when they get taken to the station. Most of the people we nick are young with unmet mental health needs. They’re anxious all the time. In the Chapmans’ case, they’d probably be more relaxed if they were responsible. So, I’m inclined to believe her, which doesn’t leave us with much.’

  ‘They could have stabbed him and been disturbed.’

  ‘True. But she’s smart enough not to do it there in the first place.’

  ‘You said the little sister was nuts. Maybe she lost her temper?’

  ‘That’s the thing with those two. They don’t lose control. The picture we’re building up of the victim is of him being a slightly dim, gentle loner. He doesn’t appear to be the type to get into a heat-of-the-moment fight. I reckon her boyfriend, Brick, will shed light on the matter. She said he’ll be in touch later today. That means he knows something, although I’d put money on it not being incriminating. She’ll have him hidden, and she’ll tell him exactly what he needs to say when he speaks to us.’

  ‘Brick sounds like the name of a guy who could do some damage.’

  Barton chuckled all the way back to the station.

  22

  DI Barton

  They arrived at the station and sat at their desks to fill in their paperwork. DCI Naeem was efficient as always, and the HOLMES room was set up and staffed. All information and evidence would be handed to a trained HOLMES operator, and they’d input it. In theory, the program helped with leads and solutions but the poor thing would be struggling at the moment with scraps to go on. There used to be a murder book, which everything ended up in, but in this day and age it went online.

  The staff that handled that side of operations were generally now civvies. You filled in the forms; they recorded it. You handed them the evidence; they stored it. If it was paper, it would be scanned onto the system. If you wanted it back, they signed it out to you or gave you a printout. The civvies were much less expensive and a damn sight more organised. It left the officers more time to do proper policing. In the past, stuff got lost, and obviously that always occurred at the most inconvenient moment. It was good to see the police in the twenty-first century.

  Kind of. A murder always caused an avalanche of paperwork: vehicle logs, statements, your own pocket notebook, completion paperwork, ethnicity paperwork, you name it. Bart
on accepted it had to be done or your arse would be swinging in the breeze. It must have been brilliant being a copper when paperwork was just your notebook. Rock up with your truncheon, say, ‘You’re nicked,’ and be back home in time for The Munsters.

  Barton picked up a ringing phone in the incident room at 17:55 to be told that a Sandy Janes had arrived to give a statement. Typical. Sandy Janes suited as a name. Brick did not, even though he was a bricklayer by trade.

  At that point, DCI Naeem returned.

  ‘Settle down, please. I’ll be quick as we don’t have much at the moment. What we do know is that an unemployed man called Terry Sax was…’ she paused while she checked her notes ‘… executed is the word the pathologist used. It occurred last night while the snow fell, maybe 23:00. Our victim has prior convictions in the drug world but no recent police contact. His wife says he had no enemies.

  ‘We all know the Chapman sisters. Obviously, they deny any knowledge and DI Barton and I agree this doesn’t feel like their MO. At the moment, it really could be anyone. This afternoon, the house-to-house team have found nothing. We have no useful CCTV in the area, and we’re unlikely to get more evidence from the crime scene. That means it’s hard-work time.

  ‘Who could it be? Why kill Mr Sax? HOLMES is giving us TIEs as we speak. That is our mantra: Trace, Investigate, Eliminate. What was Sax doing this week, earlier that day? Was he happy? Did he gamble? Do they know him in the bookies? We’ll need to find out who he hung out with, and who he served his time with in prison. Talk to the shopkeepers, his neighbours, the paper boy. Yes, John.’