The Snow Killer

by Ross Greenwood

  Naeem clicked her fingers to regain their attention. ‘Finally, do any of you have a mad idea? Something outlandish that seems stupid. Is a thought itching at you, and you’re not sure why? Remember, sometimes we don’t solve these cases for ten years. Technology moves on. People’s motivations change. Confessions occur on death beds. As always, keep your notes detailed, store evidence correctly, get everything typed up. Suspect everyone. John, what’s on your mind?’

  ‘You recall I told you about the historic case? Well, we did have a bit of a lead earlier. It’s unlikely, but my neighbour said someone called the Snow Killer rampaged around here over fifty years ago. They were never caught.’

  ‘Why the Snow Killer?’ asked Naeem.

  ‘I’m not sure, but I assume because they killed in the snow. There were two more victims. We have the information on the first one, and that has a similar modus operandi to the Terry Sax murder. I’ll get the files pulled on the other two murders. It’s way out there but worth a look.’

  Ginger burst into a laugh. ‘So, if we see Victor Meldrew smoking a cigar and waving an Uzi around, it’s case solved?’

  It was too good not to laugh at, and they all joined in. Barton smiled as, even though the tension had eased, everyone remained focused.

  Naeem nodded thoughtfully. ‘This is showtime, people. DI Barton, allocate roles, please. I’ll talk to the media and upstairs. Things could get very messy on the streets in a few days as the fallout hits those remaining.’ She sat down and gave Barton the whiteboard pen when he arrived at the front.

  ‘Zander, are you staying to work? Okay, take a DC and check out the shop CCTV situation and visit the business premises. DC Malik, ask intel to chase up those historic murders and do a full background check on Celine Chapman. Give a few local building companies a ring as well and sniff about.’

  Barton dished out the rest of the immediate tasks and left the most important one for him and Strange.

  ‘We’ll talk to Britney Chapman. She will want revenge.’

  41

  DI Barton

  DI John Barton and DS Kelly Strange sat opposite Britney Chapman in the interview room with the introductions and statements completed. Barton didn’t expect Britney to crack but to some extent he was wrong.

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss, Britney,’ said Strange.

  ‘I bet you are.’

  ‘I respected her,’ Barton added. ‘And she respected me.’

  Britney leaned forward in her chair. ‘You can respect her and want her dead at the same time.’ Defiance and strength shone from her. Barton recalled her age; she was only nineteen. Being born into such a criminal existence meant there was little chance of escaping that way of life. Her path had been set at birth. That would make her street smart though, and she wouldn’t tell them a thing by being pressured.

  ‘We want to find out who killed her. Any help you give us will speed up that process,’ said Strange.

  ‘I’m not saying shit to you. You never did anything for me.’

  Barton leaned in to her. ‘Remember, we’ve arrested you for assaulting a police officer.’

  It would take more than that to faze Britney, so he changed tack.

  ‘You don’t seem very upset to me. You sure you don’t need a solicitor?’

  Britney’s eyes narrowed at his implication, and then she laughed.

  ‘Man, Celine said you were good. You are sneaky. I respect that. And because of that, I will tell you one thing, and then you will not hear a single word more from me, however many times you pick me up.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘I am a survivor. I do not show fear or weakness. Crying in front of you devils isn’t part of who I am. I don’t talk to the police. End of.’

  ‘You’ll get your own revenge, that it?’ asked Strange.

  ‘Girl, you are dumber than you look.’

  Barton smiled and thought he understood. ‘This empire, or whatever you want to call it, is Celine’s thing, isn’t it?’ The girl leaned back in her seat but didn’t speak. ‘You aren’t a businesswoman and weren’t involved in any of the big decisions. Your sister loved the power. She wanted control.’

  This time a tear trickled down Britney’s cheek. She stared from Strange to Barton. ‘That’s right. The construction thing means nothing to me. All I needed was to be with Celine. Yeah, I would have done whatever she asked, but she looked out for me. She always did. But I’m a kid. I enjoyed the drama of running with the other youngsters. We messed around and had some fun. It was just a game to me.’

  ‘What are you going to do now?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m done with it all. Sure, I’d like to hurt whoever did this. But I get how it rolls. Celine didn’t see this coming, so I haven’t got a clue. In our neighbourhood, folk die. I’ve seen what happens to those who won’t let go and live for retribution. They end up in the same box they wanted to send others to. I’m getting out now. I have the chance of a new life waiting for me. Maybe this is an opportunity to start from fresh with my own people.’

  ‘What about the business? Will you allow it to fold?’

  ‘Don’t be daft. Celine was smart, you understand that. Speak to Hunt and Froome Solicitors. It’s set up. There’s a PA in our office. She can run the show until they sell it off. Even in death, she put me first. I’ll get money, but I’ve never needed it. I wanted the life for us that I see others have, you know, holidays and things. But I’d have been happy in a caravan at Skegness. Retaliation won’t bring my sister back, and she was all I cared about. The game’s over for me. We lost.’

  Barton and Strange exchanged a glance. He decided to warn her. ‘We think they’ll be after you next.’

  ‘What for? I’ve got nothing. Word will be out soon enough that I’m done. Whoever wants this area has it now. That’s your problem. Don’t even dream about putting any surveillance on me. If I find anyone acting suspicious near me, I’ll assume the worst.’

  42

  DI Barton

  When Barton came out of the interview room and returned to his desk, DC David Whitlam, a solid but serious detective with three years’ experience, hovered nearby. He was a big, rangy lad who spent much of his leisure time with DC Malik in the gym.

  ‘We’ve had two calls from potential witnesses. A lady called to say she heard fireworks and might have seen something. A man said a sound reminded him of shooting and he observed a car being driven erratically.’

  ‘Excellent. See both of them and take statements.’

  ‘DS Zander also rang in. He wants you to attend the minimart and look at the CCTV. He thinks there’s someone on it you’ll recognise.’

  Barton looked forlornly at the kettle and picked his coat up off the back of his seat. He tapped DS Strange on the shoulder and raised his eyebrows at her. ‘We might have a lead.’

  Barton and Strange got in the pool car and swapped a smile over yesterday’s shared experience.

  ‘How you feeling?’ asked Barton.

  ‘Don’t start that crap. Until I’m waddling around like a duck and mainlining chocolate, I’m still the best you have.’

  ‘I hear you.’

  ‘Seriously, I made the right decision. I’m happy with it, but I don’t want reminding of it at every touch and turn. There’s no need for special treatment.’

  ‘What baby? You know how forgetful I am.’

  ‘That’s better.’

  They drove in silence, but Barton couldn’t help himself. ‘When are you telling the father?’

  She scowled but, by her deep breath, he could tell she wanted to talk. ‘That’s not as easy as it sounds. I’ve been trying to contact him, but he’s not picking up.’ She picked up her phone, typed and then put it down. ‘I didn’t want to send a text with the news, but he deserves it.’

  Barton laughed. Someone was about to have a life altering surprise. ‘That should get his attention.’

  ‘Yep, now back to business. Where are we heading?’

  ‘To the Herlington centre. Z
ander’s seen something on the CCTV.’

  ‘Do you believe Britney’s retiring and not looking for payback?’

  ‘My gut tells me to believe her. I feel like I know her a bit because we’ve picked her up so many times. She rarely lies and says little. This is the first time she’s given us a proper idea of her thoughts.’

  ‘Has your belly ever been wrong?’

  ‘Of course not. Don’t ask my wife that question though.’

  They pulled up next to the car park where there were barriers around the entrance from the night before. Lights blinked on a low-loader parked alongside Celine’s car. Various CSI peppered the scene. Barton recognised the CSM from the first victim, Sirena. He waved, but she didn’t notice. Strange grinned at him.

  ‘It’s called manners,’ he said.

  ‘It’s called micro-flirting.’

  Barton ignored her.

  Zander was waiting for them outside the minimart. ‘Afternoon,’ he said. ‘The manager has been showing me the CCTV.’ He pointed up at a camera above the door. ‘Unfortunately, it doesn’t point in the right direction, just outwards from the shop towards the road.’

  ‘Right, what did you see?’

  ‘At the time we think it happened, there’s a kid in the distance. It’s bad quality with the weather, but it looks to me like he’s watching something. He then turns and runs away, really, really fast.’

  Barton leaned in closer. ‘Okay, let’s take a look.’

  The sweaty manager, who would have been more suitable supervising the fish and chip shop over the road, knew his CCTV. ‘We always make sure it’s working, and it’s backed up. You can imagine that in this area, we have a lot of thieving weasels. It’s more a deterrent because, even if we catch the kids nicking stuff, nothing gets done.’

  That wasn’t a discussion Barton wanted to get into today, so he didn’t take the bait. He watched the film and, as Zander said, it looked promising.

  ‘Can you zoom this in at all?’

  ‘No, I’ll get you a copy, and you’ll be able to do that.’

  ‘What’s it stored on?’

  ‘Flash drives.’

  ‘My colleague here, Sergeant Zander, will be taking this flash drive, thank you. It’s evidence of an offence and will be an exhibit. You may have a copy, of course.’

  The kid’s image was too fuzzy for details, but he really did sprint. Sadly, he didn’t veer towards the shop door when he ran by, but kept in the middle of the path. Barton wondered where he would be running to. He stood up and clicked his fingers.

  ‘He’ll have run past the bookies a bit further down. It’s under cover, so there won’t be the same problems with clarity. I bet they’ll have CCTV on their door as well. Kelly, stay here and make sure this gets sent in. Then go and chat with the CSM and check if they’ve found anything of interest. Zander, let’s see if you’ve picked a winner.’

  He instructed the DC who was working with Zander to give Strange a lift home when she finished and assist her as she required.

  No one spoke in the bookmaker’s but it was noisy. An old guy seemed mesmerised by the virtual racing, and both fruit machines flashed and buzzed. Other than that, it was empty. The manager twiddled a pen and raised his eyebrows as they approached. He whisked them out the back and got the recording up from the previous day, where they could see a young lad race past at breakneck speed. With clearer quality and freeze-frame ability, they grinned at a decent image.

  Zander smiled. ‘Todd “Flying” Finn, no less.’

  Barton had guessed it was him as well. He was another sad story from the surrounding area. Finn had been a promising runner but got caught up in a commercial burglary. Five kids were seen leaving business premises loaded up with stolen stationery. They refused to talk, and therefore all of them received records for it because the judge found everyone guilty. CCTV would be cruel to Finn again. He’d dropped out of his athletics club and then given the police the runaround. Finn became the king of smash and grab, nipping in and grabbing what he wanted, and fleeing as if he were running from a fire.

  Later, after his seventeenth birthday, he got involved with the Chapmans and disappeared from the robbery scene. Why steal pens and pencils when other things paid better?

  ‘We know it’s Finn, but I’ve no idea where to find him. His mum washed her hands of him a long time ago,’ Zander said.

  The manager cleared his throat. ‘Good news. That rude little tyke has been seeing a bird who lives two doors from me. He’s in here every time my back’s turned, playing the machines and trying to put a bet on, even though I know he’s underage. The girls who work here are scared of him. I told him off for being rude to people, and he told me that if I spoke to him like that again, he’d cut me up.’

  Zander took down the address of their next appointment and pointed across the road when they got outside. ‘I like it when they live nearby.’

  As they walked over, Barton wondered if Zander was tempting fate.

  43

  DI Barton

  Barton sent Zander to the rear of the terraced house. There were few areas in the city worse than this one. Multiple cars on bricks competed with abandoned white goods and sofas for the parking spaces. Youngsters in tracksuits pedalled away as they arrived.

  There was no doubt Finn would try to run when he saw who had popped around to see him. Barton knocked on the door, and a small woman of about eighteen, with a baby in one hand and a can of lager in the other, opened it. He could hear machine-gun fire and shouting in the background. Her glazed eyes scowled at him, but she stepped away as he showed his warrant card. Barton didn’t need asking twice, and he followed her into a tiny hallway.

  ‘I’d like a quick word with Finn. In there, I assume?’ Barton pointed at a closed door on the right.

  The girl nodded, handed him the lager, and walked away into the kitchen behind her. Barton pushed the other door open and blinked as the cigarette smoke stung his eyes.

  ‘Yo, about time. Any longer and I’d have died of thirst.’

  Barton rested the can of lager on Finn’s shoulder; Finn didn’t look back. He took the drink while maintaining his rate of fire on the screen in front of him. Barton spied a table full of cans and a Men’s Health magazine with two lines of white powder on it. A ten pound note lay half unfurled next to the cocaine.

  ‘Good game, Todd?’

  Barton had his second surprise of the day. Without even looking around, Todd Finn jumped off the sofa and flipped over the table. He turned to Barton with blazing eyes and a rounders bat in his hand. Barton filled the only door out of the room. It took Finn’s spinning mind about three seconds to recognise Barton and his predicament.

  ‘Shit.’

  ‘Shit, indeed. I need a word.’

  ‘I got nothing to say to the likes of you.’

  ‘It’s just a few questions to do with yesterday.’

  Todd’s eyes shifted sideways. ‘I can’t talk, you know that.’

  ‘You know who died?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Then what are you scared of?’

  ‘They both dead?’

  ‘Britney’s retiring from the business.’

  ‘I’m still not saying anything. A retired Britney is more dangerous to me than you’ll ever be.’

  Barton gazed around the messy room. That poor baby would grow up around people like this. He knew he couldn’t change that and nicking Finn for possession of some coke he’d argue was only for personal use wouldn’t help his investigation.

  ‘All I want to know is what you saw.’

  ‘I saw nothing.’

  ‘The cameras show you staring in the direction of yesterday’s incident. You look shocked and you ran like you wished you owned a motorbike.’

  Finn stared at the floor and shook his head.

  ‘Just tell me what you saw.’

  Finn looked up, set his chin, and still shook his head.

  ‘Okay, fair enough. I have six officers outside. They will come
in here, search your house, and get the social involved with that baby. We can have the sniffer dogs here in an hour or so. Then I’ll parade you all the way through your estate in cuffs. And we’ll be smiling. It’s a murder inquiry, so it’s okay to keep you locked up for ages. What with you being the suspected killer.’

  Todd’s mouth shot open. His brain raced for an out that didn’t exist.

  ‘Okay. I’ll talk, but I’m not giving no statement. Off the record, and you leave me alone.’

  ‘It’ll need to be good.’

  ‘I clocked Celine’s car and went over to see if she’d seen her sister, Britney. You know, I wanted to catch up.’ Barton let out a long breath but said nothing. ‘I was waiting to cross the road when I heard a crack. It was kind of muffled but I know what a gunshot sounds like. I hear them all day.’ He gestured to the console on the floor. ‘Celine’s motor was in the corner. A person stood next to the open door. Then another bang, and her car lit up for a second. It had to be a shooting.’

  ‘Who did it?’

  ‘I don’t have a clue. That’s the truth. The sleet was coming in, and I couldn’t see. I waited for a few seconds, and the person walked towards me. No way I’m hanging around.’

  ‘What did they look like?’

  ‘Just a person, with a hood pulled down at the front. I don’t think he noticed me, so I ran.’

  ‘What did he have on?’

  ‘A big grey coat and wellies. That’s all I remember before I chipped off.’

  ‘Were they tall, or fat?’

  ‘They weren’t your size.’ The cheeky imp had the nerve to grin. Barton stepped towards him. ‘Small, I don’t know, a bit smaller than me maybe.’

  Todd weighed about ten stone and looked five and a half feet tall. ‘What else?’

  Todd shrugged then smirked. ‘Yeah, they walked funny. Like they were drunk. You know, leaning over to one side.’

  Barton smiled too until the baby cried. ‘I’m going to need a written statement after all.’