The Snow Killer

by Ross Greenwood

  ‘It will be my pleasure.’

  Luke gave him a hug after and climbed on his lap. His headache receded as he listened to his older children having a normal conversation around what happened in Doctor Who at the weekend. He leaned back in his seat and exhaled. He thought of Zander and Strange returning to empty houses. It was hard to recall living on his own.

  ‘John, your mother sent a letter to us asking if we’d forgotten about her.’

  ‘What? Why didn’t she ring?’

  ‘She said that phone you got her to replace the old one is too complicated, and the buttons are too small.’

  ‘I wondered why she hadn’t been replying to my texts.’

  ‘We should visit her. It must be two months since we went.’

  ‘It’s not that long, is it?’

  Holly checked the calendar and nodded at him. ‘Kids,’ she said, ‘who wants to go and see Nanny on Sunday?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll go,’ said Lawrence.

  ‘That’s only because she always gives you a tenner,’ said Layla.

  ‘You not coming, then?’

  ‘No way, I’ve got loads of things I need to buy.’

  Holly chuckled. ‘Very mercenary, guys. What about you, Luke?’

  ‘No. Nanny doesn’t have any fun toys.’

  The kids left the room sharpish as talk of whose turn it was to do the washing-up began. In the end, Barton washed and his wife dried. Holly put the tea towel on the radiator when she’d finished and gave Barton a peck. ‘You okay? You seem distracted.’

  ‘These two murders have affected me more than usual, and I reckon more will die before we solve them. It feels like we’re being played with.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Whoever killed Celine left a screwdriver hanging out of her neck. It let us know that the previous murder was linked, but doesn’t really give us much more chance of solving it. The killer wants something, but I don’t know what it is. If it’s fame, we’re in trouble as that means more of the same. It’s a strange thing to say, but I feel a bit unstable. I’ve been noticing other people’s lonely lives, and I haven’t been to see my own mother in two months. That’s bang out of order when she’s on her own.’

  ‘Come on, John. These things happen. She had three kids. She knows how time flashes past when they’re young, and it’s a struggle to focus on anything else. You go more often than your sisters.’

  ‘Well, they do live miles away.’

  ‘It’s a 120 mile round trip for us, too. Don’t beat yourself up. We’ll go on Sunday. I love your mum’s stories about what a disgusting child you were. Maybe she’ll give me ten pounds as well.’

  Barton shrugged. He walked to the fridge and took out a bottle of Budweiser. When he turned to Holly, she’d cocked her head to one side.

  ‘That was a good line, surely worth a small grin.’ She stepped over and pushed the sides of his mouth up. ‘What’s got into you lately? Humour is how we cope with life. That’s the thing I love most about you. Even when it’s all going pear shaped, there’s always a glimpse of a smile in the back of your eyes.’

  ‘Sorry, sweetie. I’ll try harder.’

  ‘Come on, let’s have some fun.’ She took his hand and dragged him to the lounge. ‘We can do some kissing in front of the kids.’

  Her laugh was an infectious one. He joined in and almost forgot the sense of foreboding that cloaked him.

  48

  DI Barton

  The next morning, Barton parked up outside the solicitor’s and walked into the reception. Bill Hunt was waiting for him. He guided Barton into a small room just off the entrance and asked him to take a seat.

  ‘Coffee?’

  ‘No, thanks. I know you’re busy, Bill. I appreciate you turning up at the weekend. Is your partner coming in?’

  ‘We’re flat out with a fraud case. He got stuck in Nottingham all week and won’t be back until tomorrow. He’s been meaning to look into Celine’s case since her death but hasn’t had time. I came in earlier and read through it instead.’

  ‘I understand you can’t give me any details. What I wanted to appreciate was more around how organised she was. Britney said her sister prepared for everything. I’m getting a feeling Celine wasn’t who we thought she was.’

  ‘I didn’t know her well, but my partner, Sam, came to be quite taken with her. She’d had a rough start as a child. It wouldn’t be overstating things to say she broke the law as a younger woman. The picture Sam painted this morning was of someone who turned her life around. She wanted to do everything above board. The business is placed in trust for her sister’s benefit. She is almost the sole beneficiary of the will.’

  ‘Almost?’

  ‘Again, this is between you and me. There are numerous bequests to various charities. Decent sums of money too. I’m telling you this because it’s a tragedy for her to be killed after overcoming so many obstacles in her short life. We want you to have the facts to help solve her murder. She would have wanted that, even though she didn’t tell us that specifically.’

  ‘I really appreciate this.’

  ‘Don’t thank me too swiftly. We received an envelope from her in the post yesterday, marked for Sam’s attention, only to be opened by him. I remembered receiving it when you came last night.’

  Barton realised he’d been wrong when he thought Bill’s eyes had strayed to the building because his partner remained in the office. Bill continued after a rueful shake of his head.

  ‘I’d put it on his desk for when he returned. There was an envelope in the letter, only to be opened in the event of her death. Reading it now, I should have looked at it as soon as I heard.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘There was a note saying that if she died in suspicious circumstances, then this letter should be handed to DI Barton personally. It’s open because she also wanted us to read it.’

  Barton took the letter off him and slid an A4 piece of paper out.

  John,

  If you’re reading this, I’m gone. We’ve not always been on the same side but I hope Sam Froome will tell you I really did go legit. I’d be lying if I said Britney was a saint, but she is my concern. She’s my heart. About four months ago, I received this card through the post. Someone hand-delivered it to add to the weirdness. I almost mentioned it to you when Brick disappeared but hopefully he’ll be fine still.

  I don’t know what it means if anything. But if I’m gone, then my sister is in danger. Please protect Britney and stop her getting hurt.

  For a pig, you weren’t so bad.

  All the best,

  Celine.

  A small plain piece of paper nestled in the bottom of the envelope, about the same size and thickness as a business card. It was blank on one side. Barton turned it over.

  Fear the north wind. Because no one will hear you scream.

  Barton shivered, and the card slipped through his fingers.

  ‘What does it mean, John?’

  ‘I’m not sure, but what I do know is that Britney is in trouble.’

  Barton shook hands with Bill at the door. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

  ‘No, not really. When will you discuss the will with Britney?’

  ‘As soon as we contact her.’

  Barton thought for a moment. ‘If you get hold of her before I do, make certain she sees this note and rings me. I’ll have someone go around to their house and warn her now. They’ll tell her to ring your mobile.’

  Barton sat in the car and, while he waited for the traffic to let him onto Thorpe Road, a nursery rhyme surfaced from his distant past. The north wind doth blow and we shall have snow. Blue filled the sky when he peered up. But he remembered his wife’s words concerning winter’s last gasp in a few days.

  He was just about to pull into the stream of vehicles when his phone rang. He checked the screen. ‘Yes, Zander.’

  ‘It’s Brick. We’ve found him.’

  49

  DI Barton

  Barton put the
car back in gear and remembered that he’d been driving around with the petrol light on. Cursing, he decided to fill up before attending the scene. From what Zander had said, Brick wasn’t going anywhere. He turned right instead of left and hit the traffic on the town bridge. The glorious twelfth century cathedral loomed in front of him. At forty-four metres, it was still by far the highest spot on the horizon for miles around. Few in England were aware of it. He had a feeling that Peterborough would be remembered for something completely different.

  Typically, there was a long queue at the forecourt, and Barton found his temper fraying. After a frustrating twenty minutes, he parked his car at home. He could walk the same route to see Brick that he did to gaze upon Terry Sax. Brick had been discovered about 150 metres from the first body. When he arrived at the edge of the field, he wasn’t startled to feel déjà vu as he stared at the scene. The tent and cordon were already in place. Barton took a deep breath and walked towards the throng of people.

  It was the same constable, PC Zelensky, on duty at the cordon, and this time she just let him in with a grin and marked him on the clipboard. He noted the graze on the side of her face – a souvenir from her fight with Britney. The tent was next to a copse of trees. Sirena, the CSM who had worked Terry and Celine, was there talking on the phone. She finished the call and gave him a big smile. ‘Morning, John. We have to stop meeting like this.’

  He grinned back. ‘Another perfect crime?’

  She looked up. ‘To be honest, probably not far off. Mortis is in there with the body. I’ll let him talk to you about the deceased, but the scene won’t tell us much. The snow around the victim is quite solid, as is he. I’d estimate he’s been dead for days at this point. It’s reasonable to guess he was concealed after death, and further heavy snow buried him. Then each new snowfall would cover him further. If it hadn’t thawed, we’d never have found him.

  ‘Snow melts from top to bottom, so any melting would have had water running through the snow onto the body. At night, that would refreeze. You can see that the field is clear of snow, but there’s still a bank next to the copse. The fact it hasn’t gone indicates it’s been days, not hours. I’ll bet there’s a fair amount of traffic around here, too: dog walkers, kids, animals. All the rubbish here won’t help, either.’

  Barton cut in. ‘The homeless sometimes sleep in these woods.’

  Sirena frowned. ‘The conditions are similar to the Terry Sax case, and nothing concrete came from that scene. If you’ve had people living in here, then not much we find will be of use. We might uncover shell casings nearby. It depends on how professional the hitman was.’

  ‘Someone shot him?’

  ‘To begin with.’

  At that point, Mortis exited the tent. Sirena nodded. ‘I’ll be in touch.’ With a final wink, she walked over to others in protective clothing who filtered through the trees.

  Mortis had a strange expression on his face.

  ‘What’s up with you?’ asked Barton.

  ‘Got an admirer, have you?’

  Barton followed his gaze to the departing back of Sirena. ‘Don’t you look at me in the same way, Mortis?’

  ‘I wish my wife beamed at me like that. Come on, put some boot covers on. I’ll give you the sixpence tour.’

  Zander stood next to the body. ‘Morning, John. Where’s the coffee?’

  Barton gave a shrug. ‘I thought you’d already have brought it.’

  ‘Wait until I tell the boss. Right, the victim was found earlier this morning by a Polish chap on his way to work. He suspected someone had dropped an expensive coat. I assume he meant to have it for himself. He panicked when he noticed a man inside. I heard you talking to Sirena, who sickeningly seems to have a soft spot for you, about the poor chance of recovering evidence.

  ‘The finder said he assumed the guy was alive for some reason and spent a while trying to free him. He stamped all over everything by the look of it and dislodged the hammer. By the time uniform arrived, another weirdo had leaned over it. We think he might have planned to rob the dead man, too. Ginger is searching him as we speak over in the car park for the BMX track.’

  Barton stared at Brick’s lifeless face. He observed the caved-in skull. Thankfully, the man’s eyes were closed. An evidence bag contained a hammer. Another one had a wallet in it. He noted the leg closest to him had a small bleeding red circle.

  ‘Gruesome.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Mortis. ‘I haven’t been here much longer than you, and the CSI have only just finished their part. We’re about to examine the body from head to toe, but there are four distinct, obvious injuries. He’s partly frozen, making algor and rigor mortis fairly useless. The snow would have had an insulating effect and also kept the body in the same place. We will be able to tell from liver mortis the position at death. Zander told me he’s been missing for three days. That seems reasonable to assume as a time of death at this moment. His stomach may help with a time if it has cornflakes or a kebab inside.

  ‘To add to that, judging by the size of him, he would have been killed right here. No one could lug this man about.’

  Gesturing to the head and blood-stained clothing, Barton queried the cause of death. ‘Which came first, chicken or egg?’

  ‘He has three gunshot wounds. The holes look fairly small, so it wasn’t a large calibre weapon. The two in the leg would be very painful and incapacitating but not fatal. Shot three looks like it went through a lung. If it hit a major blood vessel, he wouldn’t have lasted long. The damage to the top of the head with that hammer would kill instantly if he was still alive.’

  ‘You’d need to be pretty strong to do that kind of harm.’

  ‘Surprisingly not. The skull isn’t designed to withstand a blow from a hammer. Remember your physics lessons? Force equals mass times acceleration.’ Mortis rolled his eyes at their blank faces. ‘Smallish heavy end, swung with reasonable effort. Maybe the first impact cracked the skull, and the second entered it. It’s a grisly death however you look at it.’

  ‘Post-mortem today?’ asked Barton.

  ‘No, first thing tomorrow. But I doubt you’ll get much from it that I haven’t told you already.’

  Barton turned to Zander. ‘I don’t suppose the guy you found with the body was seventy-five years old?’

  He shook his head. ‘More like twenty-five. You still considering the old person angle?’

  ‘Maybe. We’re missing something. Hopefully I’ll have the information about those other murders when I check my email.’

  ‘Kelly said it was an unusual experience speaking to people in your area, and that there were loads of militant retired folk capable of dodgy deeds.’

  Barton rubbed his eyes. ‘This is crazy. We’ve got three deaths on our hands now. They’re all obviously linked in some way. Yet, we don’t really have much. What if it is this Snow Killer from fifty years ago? That’s serial-killer territory. All we need is a reporter getting hold of that, and we’ll have Chiefs and Commissioners breathing down our necks and bringing in outside help.’

  ‘How did it go at the solicitors’?’

  ‘He helped, to be fair.’ Barton updated him with everything new he’d learnt and mentioned the note.

  ‘Fear the north wind?’ said Zander. ‘That sounds like something a snow killer would say. We need to find Britney.’

  ‘I’ll leave that to you. Release a Be-On-The-Lookout for her. Can you drive straight to her address and have a chat? Get a uniform to camp outside if she isn’t around. We can’t make her come in but, surely, she’ll see the danger. I’ll have a word with this weird bloke and go back to the station with Ginger.’

  ‘What if we can’t find Britney?’

  Barton struggled to believe what he was about to say but said it anyway. ‘I don’t think she’s in trouble until it snows again.’

  50

  DI Barton

  Barton caught up with Ginger as he let a tall man out of his car.

  ‘Confession?’ he asked.

>   ‘No. Mr Dwayne Tyne is about to leave. I’ve taken a statement from him, but he didn’t see anything. I believe him when he says he just noticed the body and stopped.’

  The man peered through Barton with a slack jawed expression of indifference. ‘Can I go now?’

  Barton glanced at Ginger, who nodded. ‘Sure, Dwayne. Are you going to be all right? Can we give you a lift home?’

  ‘No, it’s okay. I enjoy walking. It’s good for you. I don’t like the snow because it’s slippery, but I love wind and rain. It makes you feel happy.’ He grinned at them both before abruptly turning and marching away.

  Ginger and Barton tried not to smile.

  ‘I take it he wasn’t our criminal genius?’

  ‘Nope, Homer Simpson would thrash Dwayne at Snap. I searched him. All he had on him was a bank card and an old mobile phone. He unlocked that for me because he couldn’t remember his number, so I had a quick scoot through his texts and calls. I read a lot of puerile stuff about wrestling and The Lord of the Rings, all sent to the same friend.’

  ‘Okay. Where does he live?’

  ‘In that block of flats with the communal kitchens near you, where the council puts people they struggle to house.’

  ‘Criminal record?’

  ‘Nothing, which surprised me, although he seemed oblivious to the other murders around here. He didn’t seem to be interested. Dwayne loved being in the police car though, it being his first time. Said it was very exciting.’

  ‘Shame he didn’t confess, eh? Wait a few days and call on him at home to make sure he isn’t having flashbacks or something from seeing a dead body. He might have remembered something else.’

  ‘Okay. The Polish guy is in the ambulance. He started hyperventilating. It definitely wasn’t him either.’

  ‘Great. Can you give me a lift back?’

  ‘Sure.’