The Autumn Tree (DI Bliss Book 8)

by Tony J. Forder

  ‘Other forensics?’

  ‘Fibres obtained from clothing and the body are still being examined and tested, but assuming the Met’s own unit missed nothing, I don’t expect us to have anything worthwhile to report, either.’

  Fletcher chewed on her lip before responding. ‘So we have four victims, that we know of. All four were sex workers of some description, between the ages of seventeen and twenty-four. Each of them went missing for between a week and ten days prior to being murdered. Chances are they were all strangled to death somewhere other than where their bodies were dumped. And all were left naked, out in the open, next to a pile of clothing.’

  ‘Under or close to a tree,’ Bliss added. ‘That aspect also feels like part of his signature, to me.’

  ‘There appears to be no racial element,’ DCI Warburton said. ‘We have young women from vastly different backgrounds here.’

  Fletcher nodded, but raised a hand. ‘This is all very well, but all I’m hearing is what we have and where we are as things stand. What I want to know is the direction we are heading in. What’s your next move?’

  ‘We have a clear strategy with two different paths,’ Bishop told her. ‘As you’re aware, our initial focus fell upon Lewis Drake’s little empire – the part that relies on escort agencies and other forms of prostitution. Admittedly, this was when we thought we were dealing with a single victim, because she was flagged as being one of his agency escorts. It was an obvious way to go.’

  ‘And now?’ Fletcher prompted.

  ‘We see no reason to give up entirely on that area of focus. While it appears likely that Drake’s organisation had nothing to do with Majidah’s murder, they remain the people who were closest to her before her abduction. It’s certainly possible that her killer was one of her clients. The Met were keen to look into that angle, and although they were unable to pinpoint a single client connected to each of the earlier victims, it remained an open and valid line of enquiry.’

  ‘I agree. What else, DS Bishop?’

  ‘We’ve divided the squad into two separate units. DI – DS Bliss, together with ERSOU in the form of Investigator Ashton, is looking into the Drake side of things. In addition, we can’t rule out the two business cards found in our victim’s bra – well, in what we believe to be hers, at least. Jimmy himself mentioned anomalies earlier, and this is a significant one. So he and his group are running with that, also.’

  ‘And you and your team?’

  ‘We were originally going to follow up on the possibility of the murder being committed by a random punter. Now we know that’s not the case, we’ll shift across to looking at possibilities other than clients – so, in this case, men who have something against sex workers. Something so deep they’d be willing to kill them for it. We’re also concentrating our efforts on the clothing and the HOLMES data.’

  ‘If my reading of this is correct,’ Fletcher said, ‘we don’t have a great deal to go on.’

  With the attention still on Bishop, he gave a single nod and a long sigh. His shoulders sank as if deflating. ‘We don’t,’ he admitted. ‘Other than letting us know we have a serial on our hands, nothing we have from the Met is of help, as far as I can tell. That means our own investigation is still only two days old. For a bog-standard murder that would be a long time, and we’d expect to have a suspect in our sights at this stage. This case is anything but, though, and we should keep in mind that the Met team had no success in two months or more.’

  ‘How is it that we have so little by way of CCTV evidence?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘More by judgement than luck, I’d say,’ Chandler offered. ‘Since the start of this operation we’ve been asking ourselves why the chalk pits. We still don’t have an answer to that question, but what we do know is that there’s not a huge amount of CCTV in the area. There’s a note in the Met’s case file suggesting they hit a similar barrier. Add to that the fact that we have no idea where the victims were taken from, and only a vague idea of when, and you can start to see why it’s been so difficult.’

  ‘Clearly. But can we try to pin some of that down? Check CCTV close to our victim’s home on the days when we think she might have been taken?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. But there’s very little to pinpoint, and that has to be by design.’

  ‘Speaking of pinpointing, where are we on the phones?’

  Glen Ashton raised a finger. ‘I ran an eye over the case file to see how far the Met got with that, Superintendent. As with our victim, no phones were found with the bodies, and none have surfaced since. They appear to go dark at the approximate time these girls are believed to have gone missing. The Met traced the records of each device, which provided them with an approximate location of the phone the last time it was used; actually, the last time the relevant SIM cards were used. They were thorough, so they also traced the IEMI number of all three devices, and achieved the same end results.’

  ‘None of which took them any further, correct?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘And where are we with obtaining data for our own victim?’

  Bishop was up to speed with that aspect of the op. He explained that while he expected authorisation and results first thing Monday morning, the team were not pinning any hopes on the data being of any significant help. He went on to say that the results from devices belonging to the Parkinson family were due around the same time, providing information that might allow the team to ascertain their proximity to Majidah Rassooli in the hours leading up to her own phone going dark.

  ‘Very well.’ DSI Fletcher pushed back in her chair, signifying an end to the meeting. ‘Identifying when her phone stopped pinging masts will give us a better idea of when she was most likely taken, and that will help us narrow down the CCTV reviews. But that’s for next week. We have the weekend upon us. Usually I’d have no issue allowing for overtime in a case like this. My reluctance to do so here should be obvious. My question being, Bish: what is even a full team likely to achieve over the weekend that we haven’t so far and the Met were unable to do in the time they had?’

  ‘There are no obvious potential opportunities for a breakthrough, ma’am. None that I’m seeing, at least.’ He turned to Bliss. ‘Jimmy?’

  ‘If you’re going to push me for an answer, I’d have to agree,’ he said. ‘But with great reluctance. My intention is to find out who gave up my business card, and why. Perhaps they saw or heard something; maybe our victim even told them about somebody she feared. We can’t know until we’ve spoken to them, so that’s a prime action as far as I’m concerned. Then there’s the second business card. Whatever this Dark Desires is, the card mattered enough to Majidah Rassooli to keep it tucked away alongside mine. That tells me it’s significant, probably connected, and therefore of equal interest to me. I also want to rule Lewis Drake and his cronies in or out. Those are all definite avenues to follow, and heavy on physical resources. I’m not due in on Sunday, but I’ll be working whether or not there’s overtime on offer. If this were my case, I’d be offering overtime, but only to those who want to work their time off – that is, you don’t make it compulsory.’

  Bishop nodded and glanced back at their superintendent. ‘I’m on duty both days, ma’am, so it’s easy for me to go along with that. Your call as always, but I think Jimmy has a point.’

  Without further pause, Fletcher got to her feet and snatched up her binder. ‘That’s how we’ll play it. I will attend Monday morning’s briefing. I’m not on duty over the weekend, but I am available should you need to contact me. Let’s hope it’s a productive couple of days.’

  As the door swung closed behind the DSI, Warburton also stood. ‘Let’s see if we can make the rest of today count before we call it quits.’

  Ashton rubbed his hands together. ‘I can’t believe it,’ he said, beaming. ‘A juicy serial to get stuck into. That’ll be good for the old CV.’

  Bliss regarded him with narrowed eyes. ‘I just this second realised I owe you an apology, Glen,’ he said.


  ‘You do? Why’s that?’

  ‘Because prior to your last remark, I thought you were only acting like a prick. Now I see you actually are one.’

  The big man lost the wide grin. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it. I’ve never worked a serial before, that’s all.’

  ‘Yeah, well, take it from me, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be. There’s no fucking glamour, if that’s what you think. At the end of the day some poor sods still lose their lives.’

  ‘Forget it, Jimmy,’ Warburton told him. ‘I’m sure Glen didn’t intend to sound as crass and opportunistic as he did. Tell me, do we have anything new to work with?’

  Chandler nodded. ‘Jimmy asked for info on Nicola Parkinson’s daughter. John Hunt messaged me to confirm that we have added her mobile and her brother’s to our data request. He’s also carried out a full PNC check, but there are no outstanding warrants on either of them.’

  ‘And what’s the daughter’s involvement?’ This time Warburton looked directly at Bliss.

  He explained about her being a possible match for the woman seen at the flat by their victim’s landlord. ‘Which reminds me. The landlord, Beaumont, was supposed to have come in today. Any news on that?’

  ‘Phil Gratton also messaged me,’ Chandler confirmed. ‘Beaumont’s statement is in the case file.’

  Bliss nodded. ‘Good. It might be worth finding a photo of the daughter and showing it to him. He claims to have spoken to a young blonde; there’s a chance it’s her.’

  ‘You think we’ll get that lucky?’ Warburton asked.

  ‘It’s a long shot…’ he admitted. ‘But maybe not. If Drake’s organisation is connected, or perhaps someone in his organisation is, then why not Parkinson? And if she has something to do with it, why not her kids?’ Bliss dipped his head in Chandler’s direction. ‘Is the daughter known to us, Pen?’

  Nodding, Chandler said, ‘Like mother, like daughter. Not for tomming or running a knocking shop, I hasten to add – but she did get a pull for carrying a blade, and she also glassed a girl in a nightclub. She’s on a suspended.’

  ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Wilma.’

  Bliss chuckled. ‘Really? I was always more of a Betty man myself.’

  ‘Me too,’ Bishop interjected. ‘Always had the impression she was far too much woman for Barney to handle.’

  Warburton put back her head and groaned. ‘Ugh, men. Debating the qualities of cartoon characters? Really?’

  Bliss feigned outrage. ‘Betty was hot! For a Stone Age woman, that is. Wilma was more like… well, Penny.’

  ‘Oi!’ Chandler’s hand flicked out to slap him, but he jerked away in time.

  ‘Let’s hope we can progress further than the bloody Flintstones,’ Warburton said as she headed for the exit. ‘Otherwise, I’ll see some or all of you here tomorrow at some point, I’m sure. Let’s aim for a nine o’clock start, shall we?’

  The others responded as one. Bliss found Bishop looking at him, brow creased. ‘Neither of them said anything about a media briefing,’ he muttered.

  ‘That’s because they have nothing to add,’ Bliss told him. He followed it up with a grin. ‘Take that as a vote of confidence, Bish. You heard what the Met had to say, you heard the subsequent conversations. They have faith in you to work with media relations and come up with a statement.’

  Bishop blew out a long breath. ‘I had no idea it could be this tense.’

  Bliss winked at him. ‘You could always do what I did.’

  ‘Yeah. And what was that?’

  ‘Blow it so badly they never ask you to do it again.’

  Bishop coughed up a dry laugh. ‘Let’s call that Plan B, shall we?’

  Bliss joined in. ‘You’ll learn,’ he said softly. ‘You’ll learn.’

  Twenty-One

  Acknowledging the change in operational status of Phoenix, plus the commitment to putting in some time over the weekend, Bliss took himself out onto the stairway landing to call Emily. She wasn’t out on location, so answered immediately.

  ‘You sound rested,’ he said after a few seconds of catching up. ‘A night on your own seems to have done you some good.’

  ‘Actually, it did. I got a few things done around the house, had a nice long soak in the bath and an early night. How about you?’

  ‘Oh, you know. Same as you, really: did some housework, relaxed in a nice warm soup of my own dead skin, and off to the land of nod before ten.’

  ‘Of course. That’s so you.’

  ‘I know. Completely predictable.’

  ‘Hmm. My guess is you made do with some toast or cereal, washed down with several beers. Then you sat up until the early hours mulling over your new case – if you even went to bed at all.’

  She was closer than he liked to admit, so he quickly got them off the topic. ‘I don’t know if you had any plans for later, but if you fancied getting together, tonight might be a good idea; I’ll pretty much be on duty all over the weekend. This murder case has shifted up a gear or two today, and I could be called out at any time even when I do make it home.’

  ‘In effect, then, if I don’t see you tonight, I probably won’t until Monday at the earliest?’

  ‘That’s about the size of it. You know how it goes.’

  A pause. Something he had become used to in their conversations of late.

  ‘Jimmy, I’m not sure what to do. Cards on the table: if we do get together tonight, I think I’m probably going to want to discuss us. I realise you’d rather stick needles in your own eyeballs than do that, and to be honest with you I’m a little anxious about it myself. Perhaps it’s better left until we’ve both had a chance to think about our current situation some more.’

  Bliss’s initial reaction was to pounce on the way out she had given him – but he saw the flaw in her argument and had to mention it. ‘We can do that if it suits you best,’ he said. ‘But Em, you know better than that. If I’m working all weekend, my mind is going to be wrapped up in the case. I could lie and tell you my every waking thought will be about us, but you know me. I probably won’t think about it again until we see each other on Monday or Tuesday. That’s no slight against you or our relationship. It’s the harsh reality of the situation. Is there any chance of us getting together tonight but not talking about anything meaningful?’

  ‘You mean we can spend the entire night together provided we don’t address the elephant in the room?’

  ‘Hey, I know I’ve nothing to be ashamed of equipment-wise, but comparing me to an elephant is probably exaggerating. A bit.’

  Emily didn’t laugh. ‘There you go,’ she said, her voice flat. ‘Deflecting again. Right on cue.’

  Bliss knew he was – not that he liked her pointing it out. It sounded so cold and clinical when she said it. She had always analysed their relationship more logically than he had. He preferred to go with the flow, allowing things to take their natural course; he had been wondering for some time if things between the two of them had run theirs.

  ‘I do want to see you,’ he told her sincerely. ‘You have to believe that. I enjoy spending time with you. But I don’t want to waste it talking about us when we could be getting on with being us.’

  ‘Oh, Jimmy. You see, this is where the compromise aspect of a relationship kicks in. You want one thing, I want another. And when it comes to this specific topic – when I want to talk about what we have and where we’re going – so far I’m the one who’s always had to make that compromise.’

  ‘Really? Is that what you think?’

  ‘No, it’s not what I think; it’s the truth of the matter. So I leave it until the next time. And next time I leave it until the next… and so on. So what I’m thinking is, we have to see if you are capable of bending when I most need you to. To sacrifice what you want, to give me a single night during which we discuss all the things I feel we need to get out into the open.’

  It suddenly felt extremely hot out on the landing. Bliss sucked in some ai
r. His head began to swirl, and he blinked rapidly, looking to stabilise himself. The reaction came as a result of the rush of sudden pressure Emily had applied. He breathed out deeply. And again. He did not want to take this conversation any further – he was starting to wish he hadn’t called at all – but here he was. As he told others on many occasions, things are as they are, not as we might like them to be. He had to deal with it.

  ‘Fine,’ he breathed. ‘I don’t know what time I’ll be home, but come over whenever you can. It sounds as if you think this talk we’re about to have is long overdue.’

  ‘And you don’t?’

  ‘We’ve been seeing each other for two months. That’s not a lot of time, especially if you tot up the actual number of hours we’ve spent together.’

  ‘Isn’t that part of the problem? The lack of quality time we get together?’

  ‘I didn’t think so. Clearly I’m wrong.’

  When Bliss was finished with the call, he placed another.

  Sandra Bannister answered on the third ring. ‘I was wondering if you’d contact me,’ she said. ‘Let me guess: you don’t have anything for me, but you’d like me to dig out some information on your behalf.’

  Bliss smiled. ‘Why do you think so little of me?’

  ‘I’ve spent time with you. Isn’t that all the answer you need?’

  ‘And yet you get far more from me than I should give.’

  ‘True. Which is why I put up with your requests. What is it this time?’

  ‘Off the record, never to appear in print even as a casual mention?’

  ‘Ooh, sounds serious. Okay. But I’ll hold back if I think somebody else might beat me to the punch. Have to protect my leverage.’

  ‘Naturally. In that case, when you ran your features on Lewis Drake, did you ever get wind of anything he might be up to on the dark web?’ Bliss deliberately withheld any specific mention of Dark Desires.