The Snow Killer

by Ross Greenwood

  ‘You said—’

  ‘I didn’t say anything of the sort. Here’s the deal. I’ll send a plain-clothed constable here tomorrow morning. You have a decent tidy up, like a good boy. Make it safe for that baby. I’ll forget what I spotted on that magazine if you toe the line. Don’t let me down. Britney would be less forgiving than I am.’

  Todd nodded. He maintained eye contact, but it wasn’t confrontational; sad almost. Barton guessed he wasted his breath but had a go, anyway.

  ‘All this stuff you’re doing rots your brain. If the powder doesn’t do it, the games will. You’ve got a pretty girl out there, a warm place, a nice baby. Have you thought about doing the right thing? You could start running again?’

  The lad considered it for a moment. The innocence dropped from his eyes as he replied. ‘Who says that baby’s mine?’

  44

  DI Barton

  When Barton got back outside, Zander appeared to be chatting up an attractive neighbour hanging out her washing. He glanced up at the sky and admired the patches of blue. About time; he’d had enough of snow for one year.

  ‘Are you ready, Zander? Sorry to leave you out in the cold. Must have been tough waiting for me.’

  Zander waited to talk until they were in the car. ‘Nice girl. Slovenian. Thought I was from the council and wanted to show me her plumbing.’

  Barton shook his head but still smiled. ‘Don’t tell me any more. I don’t suppose she had anything to say about Flying Finn.’

  ‘No, usual story. She knows he’s up to no good, but she has to live here. No one wants to talk to us, John. Maybe if I returned and fixed her pipes, she’d cooperate?’

  Barton brought Zander up to speed on Finn’s information. A grey coat wasn’t much to go on, but at least it spoke of progress. Zander said he’d get control to pass on the word when they got to the station. Barton explained that they’d let Britney off with a caution for the assault. There wasn’t any point in taking that further. Finding your sister had just died was quite a mitigating factor. The officer she hurt only had light injuries and wouldn’t hold a grudge. That sort of thing came with the role. If you couldn’t stand the odd bruise or personal insult, then you were in the wrong job.

  They observed Britney leaving the police station from the front exit as they returned to the building. Barton considered driving her home, but a hot drink and some contemplative time appealed more. Besides, she could afford a taxi. He also had the solicitors to contact to see if he could find out anything about the Chapmans’ business.

  He had a note on his desk to ring DC Malik on his mobile phone.

  ‘Malik speaking.’

  ‘Barton here. Got your message. Where are you?’

  ‘Having a fag. I’ll be back in the office in a minute.’

  Barton filled the kettle while he waited. The young officer returned panting, which Barton appreciated.

  ‘Fire away.’

  ‘There’s surprisingly little to go through on Celine Chapman. She’s been under surveillance numerous times but is seemingly clean and has been for years. I spoke to a guy I know in Records, and he said he’ll have the information about the other two historic murders for us tomorrow. He checked out the causes of death for me and rang back a few minutes ago. One killed by what they thought was a small-bore rifle and the other a hammer. No screwdrivers or pistols involved.’

  Barton tutted. That certainly made it less likely to be the workings of the Snow Killer. He would leave that angle for now. They had plenty of other stuff to be going on with.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll need you to see a Todd Finn tomorrow morning to get a statement. I’ll email you the details.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I also spoke to two local builders. They both said the same thing. The Chapmans are well-liked subcontractors. They don’t take on huge contracts themselves. They have a team, a bit like temps. Apparently, the building trade is a nightmare for jobs running over. If that happens, the Chapmans are your first port of call. Even though they’re pricey, their work is top notch, and deadlines are never missed. Neither of them had a bad word to say.’

  ‘Did you ask about competition?’

  ‘Of course. The idea of Romanian builders knocking out rivals amused them no end. If you have a costly build that needs finishing fast, you pay for the best, not get any old cowboy in. A few Portuguese crews are up to it, but not too many foreign firms would be. The simple truth is there’s too much work out there as it is. Nobody needs to worry where their next job is coming from. One of them banged on for five minutes about stamp duty making it too expensive to move house, so the rich are extending and improving. I think we’re in the wrong trade, sir.’

  He thanked Malik and dismissed him. DS Strange came back in at that point and stood by his desk.

  ‘Mortis was there at the scene. He’s done the post-mortem of Celine and it’s straightforward. Well, it was after he told me it in a language I could understand. No drink or drugs in the system. In fact, she had been noticeably healthy. Cause of death, gunshot wounds to the torso, leading to internal bleeding. The screwdriver injury was superficial in comparison.’

  ‘Why did he go back to the scene?’

  ‘He wanted another look at the vehicle. Again, the angle of entry of the bullet came in low like with the direction of the stab wound in the first murder. Assuming it’s the same person, then he concluded that the person responsible is likely to have been on the short side.’

  ‘You mean like a dwarf?’

  Strange smiled. ‘Long day, John? No, not a dwarf; he means closer to five feet than six.’

  ‘Shame. That would have narrowed down the suspects. How certain of that is he?’

  ‘Not very. They could have just been holding the gun low. He wanted to give you anything he could.’

  Barton settled at the PC to update his notes. There were a lot of them. He was pondering whether paperwork would be called computer work in his lifetime when DC Whitlam returned from talking to the two eyewitnesses.

  DCI Naeem had informed him she’d be out of the building at an award ceremony for a retiring officer and would miss the wash-up at 17:30, so he took Whitlam into her office for some quiet as Zander had been distracting him by humming ‘Rhinestone Cowboy’ for the last hour. He suspected the Slovenian girl had something to do with that.

  The young officer ambled into the room. Barton remembered Holly saying to him that most people are nervous when they talk to managers above them. It’s how you control it that counts. Whitlam took his notebook out of his pocket and spoke with confidence. Barton smiled to himself. Whitlam didn’t seem unduly bothered by anything, in a good or bad way.

  ‘I’ve had words with them both, sir.’

  ‘Go on, but call me John.’

  ‘The first lady, Katherine Symonds, couldn’t find her glasses when she got home from the dentist’s and went back. She was very old. Ninety. Told me six times, I think, just in case I missed it. She saw an unusual flash from a big car in the distance and someone in a white coat leaving the scene.’

  ‘How could she tell if she couldn’t see anything?’

  ‘Said she can see shapes and colours.’

  ‘Great. A defending barrister would have an orgasm hearing that. Wait, how come she left without her glasses? Surely she must have realised as soon as she got outside that she couldn’t see.’

  ‘That’s what I said. She thought the weather had misted up her glasses until she tried to take them off and found they weren’t there.’

  Barton covered his face with his hands and spoke through his fingers. ‘What about the other witness?’

  ‘That was an elderly gentleman as well, one who walks his dog every afternoon around that time. Said he heard a strange bang. It made him suspicious, so he kept an eye out for anything unusual. Told me he’d been to Korea. I wasn’t sure what difference his holiday destination had to proceedings, but I took a note of it. He provided a superb description of a car being driven in an unsuitable way for the conditions.’<
br />
  ‘Did he take a number plate?’

  ‘Yes, we tracked the driver down.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I’m talking to him now.’

  ‘Blue Land Rover, eh?’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  ‘Excellent. It’s a fair cop. A few years at HMP Butlins might do me some good. I don’t suppose our witness could be the culprit?’

  ‘Unlikely, with him having no legs.’

  ‘You said he was walking his dog!’

  ‘He had an electric wheelchair, but the dog was walking.’

  ‘Thank you, that will be all.’ Barton rested his forehead on the keyboard. It was sticky and smelled funny.

  ‘Final thought, sir. Do you think the airlines gave him a discount when he flew to Korea?’

  Whitlam had gone when that penny finally dropped, which was just as well. He decided to gather his thoughts before returning to the incident room and chairing the meeting. There were always stragglers. He shook his head at Whitlam’s legroom joke. It seemed even that sombre officer wanted to be a comedian.

  45

  DI Barton

  DCI Naeem’s desk phone rang a minute later. Barton picked it up to hear the voice of the woman herself. She had decided not to put surveillance on the younger Chapman. It was hard to know what Britney would do if she noticed. She’d been informed of the danger, so they were covered. Naeem had also asked the drug squad about Celine and come up with some interesting information. Barton raised his eyebrows at the news and put the phone down.

  He strode to the meeting room where bodies struggled for space. Nothing like progress to rekindle interest.

  ‘Quiet, please,’ said Barton. ‘I’ll make this quick because I know you have plenty to work on. Other traders confirm the Chapmans’ building business is well respected and very profitable. We still have feelers out, but that line of enquiry is colder after speaking to them.’

  ‘Britney Chapman has been released…’ he paused to let the half-hearted boos subside ‘… and tells us she is going straight.’ This time he waited for the cheers to finish before continuing. ‘It’s possible she’ll remain a target as, to me, this case seems personal. The Terry Sax hit could have been a warning to Celine. Maybe they wanted her to fear for her safety. Interestingly, the latest intel about Celine is that she was so far removed from the drug dealing that it’s possible she wasn’t involved any more and may not have been for a long while.’

  Many mouths opened at that revelation. ‘It could be that the Chapmans had gone clean after all; the elder one at least. DC Whitlam, tell us the figures that the builder estimated their business made a year?’

  ‘Turnover of two or three million. Profit of half.’

  ‘Now, we know you can make more selling drugs, but you have to shift considerable weights to earn that kind of money. Why bother if you could live a life of luxury without the risk of twenty years in prison? Perhaps it isn’t the drug angle at all. Is it someone from their past who wants revenge?’

  He let that wash over them before announcing the most credible information they had. ‘Mortis reckons the killer is fairly short. Five feet and a few inches probably. The attacker was seen leaving the hit. They had a big white or grey coat on. It’s likely they ran through Baggswell Lane to the nicer houses in the area.’

  ‘Your area, sir?’ Ginger smiled.

  Barton gritted his teeth. ‘Yes, towards my house. Some rich people live near me. Who’s to say they couldn’t be the murderer? That brings us nicely on to the Victor Meldrew angle. It’s natural to think of a killer as a young person or an ex-soldier who knows how to use a gun. One of the witnesses described the person as running as if drunk. Perhaps they were, or they could have a health condition like a hip replacement. Trust me, everyone’s capable of murder. A gun levels the field. Even Mike Tyson can’t bite the ear off a gun.

  ‘I’m looking for people to knock on doors in my village tonight. We’ve focused on the rougher estates. That might have been our mistake. Who’s keen?’ Six raised their hands, including DS Strange, which would be sufficient for the job. ‘Kelly, if you could arrange that. I’ll name the streets right after this meeting. Be careful, everyone. Avoid any risks. This person is clearly armed and dangerous. If anyone acts suspiciously, record it and leave. We can always go back with the Armed Response Vehicle.

  ‘Guilty people don’t answer their doors in general. But there could be something incriminating on their property. A careless gangster dropped a live round on his drive up north somewhere, and it was that which got him nicked. It’s going to thaw a bit tonight too, and then completely tomorrow, which may reveal incriminating evidence. I’m wondering if one of those things might be Brick.’

  The laughter died away as they realised what he meant.

  ‘I’m visiting the solicitors who are managing Celine’s estate later. They probably won’t be able to tell me anything, but I’ve a hunch that Celine will have left detailed instructions.’ Barton had decided his physical presence in the solicitor’s office might yield better results.

  ‘Any questions?’

  ‘Do we know who Celine spent her time with?’

  ‘Only Brick and her sister were regularly seen in her company. I’m beginning to wonder if a mistake was made in killing Terry Sax. Maybe they thought he was someone else. Mortis said he expects to confirm from analysing the screwdriver and metal traces in Terry’s back that the weapon was used in both murders although it’s still possible they were unrelated. Anyway, taking Celine out raises the game. Even though Britney said she’s had enough, I suspect we wouldn’t be the only ones to be surprised by that fact. Everyone will expect her to take over. All options remain. It could even be an old-fashioned serial killer killing people every time it snows.’

  That got a few chuckles too, but Barton instantly thought of his mother. Many a true word is spoken in jest was one of her favourite quotes. Barton felt as if the net was closing in on the guilty party, but was it closing fast enough?

  46

  DI Barton

  Barton found the roads much more amenable without the ice, and arrived at the solicitors’ in a matter of minutes after giving Strange her instructions for that night. It was 17:55 when he pulled up. There were numerous other vehicles in the car park, but when he tried the front door, it wouldn’t open. He waited outside until a heavy-set man with thick glasses pushed the doors wide. Barton’s eyes widened at a face from the past. One of his old rugby friends locked the doors behind him.

  ‘Bill?’

  ‘John?’

  They froze next to each other for a couple of seconds before shaking hands warmly. Bill Hunt was obviously doing very well for himself. Barton gestured towards the sign on the door. ‘All yours?’

  ‘Half mine. I met the other partner, Sam Froome, at uni. It’s good to see you, John. Must be twenty-eight years since we played together. You look great. Not a social call, is it?’

  ‘Yeah, we need a prop for Sunday. How you set?’

  ‘I prefer to watch these days.’

  Barton couldn’t tell if his joke had fallen flat or not. What he did realise was that, after twenty-eight years, he didn’t know this guy at all. At least he had the same trouble with his waistline as Barton. At Bill’s impatient face, he cut to the chase. ‘I’m investigating the death of Celine Chapman. I’m sure you’re aware of it. Her sister said your company will manage the estate.’

  Bill considered his reply. ‘My partner deals with that account. He’ll be back in on Monday – he should be able to answer some questions then.’

  Barton noticed Bill Hunt’s eyes slip to the building and guessed that his partner remained inside. Why would he want to delay? ‘How about I come by first thing? Nine o’clock.’

  ‘It’s Saturday tomorrow.’

  ‘It’s important.’

  Bill nodded. ‘I’ll let him know. Someone will be here. There are limits to what we can tell you though, short of you having the necessary authority. Goodnight, John
.’

  Barton watched him leave. The man hadn’t said anything unexpected, and he could just be stopping his colleague from being interrupted late at night, but something felt wrong.

  He got in his car and drove the brief distance home. The best part of working in a place like Peterborough had to be the distances. Within fifteen minutes, you could drive to virtually anywhere in the city.

  A strange sight greeted his eyes as he arrived at the village green outside his home: the Colonel and Britney Chapman deep in conversation outside the Colonel’s house. Britney paced from side to side and gestured wildly. The Colonel pointed. Barton bumped up onto his driveway and when he’d parked and checked again, they were watching him. Britney walked away leaving a scowling Colonel staring after her. Barton strolled over the grass to him with interest.

  ‘How’s things? What was that about?’

  ‘Bloody kids. Smoking weed near my front door.’

  Barton decided to humour him. ‘Shall I bring her in for questioning? Get the water board out? They confess in the end.’

  An unusual expression crossed the Colonel’s face. When he answered, he failed to look at Barton. ‘No, don’t bother. She’s only a girl. We were all young once.’

  Barton shrugged. It’d been one of those days.

  47

  DI Barton

  Barton slipped his shoes off and wandered towards the noise in the kitchen, where he found Holly and the kids sitting around the table laughing at Luke.

  ‘You’re home early. Just in time for the incredible candle-making boy,’ said Holly.

  Barton sat opposite his youngest son and couldn’t help chuckling at the long drip of snot that swung from his nose. Holly grabbed the kitchen roll and went to wipe it off.

  ‘No, Daddy do it,’ said Luke.