Gaskell appealed for anyone who had any information or had seen anything on that night. He played the video footage of the suspect we’d obtained from the club where Hannah’s body had been discovered. I guessed that the second club hadn’t had CCTV nearby. Regardless, the second victim hadn’t been identified yet.
Gaskell announced that the university would be closed for a time as a precautionary measure, and I realised that the man sitting on Gaskell’s other side was the university dean. The press didn’t get to ask any questions, and Gaskell nodded and left after delivering the information. The number for any tips or information remaining on the screen for another thirty seconds before the normal news returned. The attentive silence was broken as the gathered officers started talking animatedly to each other in hushed voices, shocked and freshly galvanised by what we had just learned.
I shared a look with Stephen, and then we both left the room, heading back to our desks. I leaned back against mine before moving to pace, too agitated to keep still.
“We need to talk to Gaskell and Sedgwick,” Stephen said quietly. The office was unnaturally quiet for this time of day, and it was unnerving, making me want to talk quietly as well.
“Sedwick’ll be at the crime scene, for sure.”
Stephen gave a short nod. “Did the killer really do this, what, last night, and then go to Abby’s to string up that bird this morning? It seems too close together, almost.”
As adamant as I was that the cases were too similar to be a mere coincidence, I had to agree with Stephen. “Maybe they’re not working alone,” I guessed aloud.
“Or they’re ramping up.”
“Or that,” I agreed.
We got in touch with Gaskell, and he said he’d be back in the station soon. The crime scene had already been swept up before the press conference. Stephen and I were behind on the news because we’d been out seeing Abby.
There was nothing to do but wait tensely for Gaskell and Sedgwick’s return. I considered going to the lab to see if there had been any progress with investigating the bird we’d brought in before lunch, but with this murder, all the technicians’ attention would be on that. And I thought I could predict that the bird had been strangled or smothered like the others… the previous dead student. Would this second murder be the same?
I surfed news channels, looking for any more information, but none of them knew anything more than what Gaskell had announced, no matter how much they speculated aimlessly, and I turned it off in annoyance.
Gaskell strode into the room, Sedgwick in tow, and I stood up quickly from my desk. So did several other officers, who stepped forwards towards Gaskell as if to talk to him. He picked Stephen and me out, though, and pointed at us, gesturing for us to get ourselves into his office with him, stat.
I snatched up my notebook and strode over, with Stephen at my side. Sedgwick stood at the door looking too preoccupied to be annoyed by my presence today. He shut Gaskell’s door, once we were all inside, and leaned against the wall, because there were only three chairs.
“Sir?”
“It’s asphyxiation again,” Gaskell said, looking tired. “Though definitely strangulation this time. He had his hands clasped tightly together in front of him. “Have you seen the body yet?”
I shook my head. Gaskell tapped at his computer, before turning the screen to face Stephen and me. I frowned at it for a long moment, before reeling back.
“Ballerina,” I said quietly but firmly, my head spinning. She had the clear physique of a dancer, lithe and finely muscled, but it was the toes that clued me in to the ballet background.
Gaskell nodded. “Exactly. She was on a sports scholarship, for gymnastics actually, but she was extremely talented at ballet, as well. She was found on the university’s running track.”
Something clicked together in my head all of a sudden. “The killer’s targeting sportspeople. Hannah played football, sir,” I thought aloud. “The position she was in was like she was running. Playing the game.”
Gaskell shared a look with Sedgwick. “That fits,” he agreed quietly.
“Hannah’s death also happened on the women’s football society night out.”
Gaskell rubbed his forehead. “So this is the connection. Sportswomen.”
I hummed. “That doesn’t link to Taylor or Abby… Well, Taylor does run, but she’s not part of a uni society or a student, and Abby-” didn’t play sports, as far as I knew from her socials, I was about to say, but Gaskell lifted a hand to stop me speaking.
“We’re focusing on the murders right now, Mitchell. I want you working on this too.”
“But, sir, they’re linked, I’m sure of it-”
Gaskell sent me a look, shutting me up. “I need people chasing this new lead up, Mitchell, not being distracted. I know your primary case was upsetting for the women involved, but we’re talking about an active murder case. Understood? I want you researching who might have a grudge against sports students, particularly sportswomen. York has good sports equipment and facilities. A hell of a lot of the students are actively involved in sporting activities, so we have a lot of potential future victims and possible killers, if they’re a sportsperson, too.”
“Yes, sir,” I said flatly, not too pleased by his decree, but it did make sense. It wasn’t like Stephen and I had any hot leads to chase up with the other case. Hopefully, this new revelation would open up our first case too.
“With the university shut down, including all sporting activities, the clock is ticking. Let’s get to work.”
“Sir,” I said, standing up to leave.
Back at our desks, I’d only just sat down before my phone rang. It was Taylor, and my heart stuttered, not with happiness this time but panic. Was she in trouble?
“Taylor?” I said hurriedly as soon as I’d picked up.
“Darren,” she said, not sounding fearful, and I relaxed back into my chair. “I heard about the student killing…” She trailed off before swallowing thickly.
“Yes,” I confirmed quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m staying with a friend for the moment,” she continued after a moment. “I know it’s irrational, but it’s freaking me out-”
“No, no,” I said hurriedly. “That sounds really sensible. I’m glad to hear it.”
She sighed. “Good,” she said, sounding a touch relieved, like she thought I might dismiss her concerns. “Well, that was all. I didn’t want you to come to the house and be concerned when I didn’t answer.”
I was touched. “Thank you for the thought.”
“Sure,” she said quietly.
We were both quiet for a second more, and it was soothing, somehow, just to hear her breathing after such horrible and upsetting news. It was nice to hear the proof that Taylor was doing fine.
“I’ll let you get on,” she said after a short while, and I nodded, though she couldn’t see me.
“Okay, speak soon,” I said, half on reflex and half in the hope that we would speak soon.
“I’d like that.”
I smiled. “Bye, Taylor.”
“Bye,” she echoed and hung up.
Stephen sent me a teasing look as I put my phone down, but it was half-hearted. He wasn’t really in the mood for banter after the news.
“She’s okay?” he asked instead.
“She’s staying with a friend for a while.”
“Good,” he said with a nod.
We buried ourselves in research for the rest of the day and spent the rest of the week in the same way. I kept an eye on my phone, and although Taylor and I texted regularly, we heard nothing from either woman about more dead animals being left, and I hoped that their temporary changes of address would keep them safe.
We dug into the lives of numerous university students who were big on the sports scene, accompanying Gaskell and Sedgwick to meetings with the university dean. While Stephen and I chased up dozens of faint possibilities, none of which seemed to lead anywhere, Gaskell and Sedgwick talked to the second victim’s fam
ily and flatmates and didn’t seem to progress far there either.
October drew towards the end, and York flaunted its Halloween colours, leaning into the spookiness of the old city, with its twisting, narrow shambles and the grand cathedral with its gargoyles. Tourists flocked to the ever-popular, night-time ghost tours and the little shop that sold hand-painted ghosts was always crowded. Residential areas had glowing pumpkins on the porches and decorations in the gardens.
“Halloween wasn’t so much of a big thing when I was a kid,” Stephen grumbled as we drove along such a street, heading back through York after going to talk to the captain of York Uni’s women’s football team one afternoon. She’d been broken up over Hannah’s death, but had, perhaps unsurprisingly, known nothing more about it or who could have done it.
I was disappointed by our lack of progress and clenched my hands on the steering wheel before taking a turn back to the station. It was steadily getting dark, and the orange glowing of the lit pumpkins caught my eye as we drove by.
“Aye,” I agreed with Stephen. “I never went trick-or-treating either, but now all the neighbourhood kids seem to turn up, wanting sweets.”
“How awful of them,” Stephen said lightly. He was more patient than I was and seemed less outwardly irritated by how we seemed to be going round in useless, endless circles these last couple of weeks. Having kids probably made you more patient, I thought absently.
“I suppose you’ll take your little monsters out to rot their teeth when they’re old enough?”
Stephen chuckled. “We’re already planning to take them both out this year. They’re going as the teacups from Beauty and the Beast, you know?”
“Very scary,” I said, deadpan.
Stephen huffed. “Cute kids get more sweets,” he said. “And then me and Annie can steal some.” Annie was his wife.
“If I buy you sweets, will I be able to tempt you out running?” I said.
“Absolutely not.” He sent me a look. “How about your pretty teacher?” he said teasingly. “Why don’t you two go running together? Sounds like your perfect date.”
I laughed despite myself. “It wouldn’t be my worst.”
Stephen perked up. “What was your worst date?” he asked, far too eagerly.
We spent the rest of the drive talking about disastrous dates, which morphed into Stephen gushing about his wife, who he loved to death as he liked to tell me frequently. I didn’t mind. It was nice to hear him so happy.
But my heavy mood had returned by the time we got back to the station, and I could almost feel the weight of the grey mist hanging over the whole place. Gaskell and Sedgwick hadn’t made any huge strides forwards, either unless they’d been keeping me out of the loop, and there was a general sense of dispiritedness pervading the department. We all wanted to crack this case and get the monster who’d killed the two women put behind bars. That they’d so successfully evaded us all so far was both a professional embarrassment and a source of personal distress for me.
I was as determined as I’d always been to figure this one out, but the fire that had lit us all up after the second murder was first announced had begun to fade into a trudging stoicism . I knew that before long, if we didn’t make progress, another serious crime would come up, and this one would get pushed aside by necessity.
I was determined not to let that happen.
Eleven
I was out running after work that evening, a couple of days before Halloween, pushing myself hard. Since arriving in York, I’d mapped out the nearest hills, even the tiny ones, and figured them all into a complicated and winding route for when I was wound up and in need of really pushing myself, as I was tonight. I hadn’t been on a longer run in a while, with being so caught up in work, and I’d been making do with the short runs to and from the station when the weather wasn’t abysmal. It was getting cold enough now that my breath misted in front of me in the early mornings and evenings, and I had to wear gloves to stop my fingers turning into chapped, red sticks of ice.
I didn’t carry my phone while running, so I didn’t know that Taylor had called me until I’d got home and finished showering, which was when I finally checked it.
My heart jumped, more than half in worry when I saw her name. I called her back immediately, even though I was still half-dried and standing, shivering, in just a towel.
“Taylor?”
“Hi, Darren.”
She sounded the opposite of upset, so I relaxed, rubbing a towel over my copious head of hair that was badly in need of a good trimming.
“Hi,” I said warmly. “How’re you doing?”
We fell into talking, and I held the phone to my bare shoulder as I got dressed, pulling on some boxers and a t-shirt before moving towards the kitchen for a glass of wine. It was a Friday, and I was looking forward to the weekend for once. Usually, I hungrily embraced my work and chased it like a dog in pursuit of a bone, but the two cases together were wearing me down. Though I felt guilty for it, I badly needed a couple of days away from thinking about the two women who’d been killed.
“So,” Taylor said, once we’d exchanged the usual small talk. “I was wondering if you’d be free- if you’d want to come out for drinks?” She sounded unusually uncomposed, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d love that,” I said. There was another twinge of guilt from my conscience for thinking of romance and Taylor while the murder investigation was still going on. Still, I couldn’t put my private life on hold forever, and I liked the smart, blue-eyed teacher a lot. “When would you fancy?” I took a sip of my wine and sighed in contentment. I liked beer as much as anyone, but a good red wine relaxed me more than anything.
She hummed. “Tonight?”
I blinked, surprised. “Oh,” I said, before I could stop myself.
She laughed, a little self-consciously. “No?”
“Yes!” I said quickly. “Absolutely yes, one hundred per cent! I’ll just need to… put some trousers on.” I chuckled as I looked down at myself.
“Oh?” Taylor said, sounding amused and also interested.
I flushed. “Yep.” I headed towards my bedroom for some smart clothes, opening the wardrobe and wondering what to wear. Tucking the phone against my bare shoulder again, I said, “When and where? Any ideas?”
“Well,” she said, drawing the word out as she thought about it. “I haven’t been to Turtle Bay in a while. We might bump into a couple of my students, but they do great cocktails there.”
I tensed slightly at the mention of students but made myself relax. I couldn’t exactly avoid them entirely, they made up a decent portion of York’s population.
“I haven’t heard of it,” I admitted, picking out a plain, light blue shirt and some dark jeans. “But it sounds good. I haven’t had cocktails in a while.”
“Me either,” Taylor said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “They have food too. Otherwise, you’d be at risk of having to carry me home.”
I snorted, sitting down on the bed. “You assume I’m not a hell of a lightweight too.”
“You’re, like, six foot seven!” she laughed. “You can’t be a lightweight!”
“I promise you, I’m not six foot seven,” I laughed back.
We talked back and forth for a while longer. Taylor was really easy to talk to and laugh with and, when we hung up, my smile lingered for several minutes afterwards.
I ate some toast, good for soaking up alcohol, brushed my teeth, and got dressed in time to go and meet Taylor at the bar. I could’ve driven over, but my phone’s map said it wasn’t too far, so I walked over, with a precautionary umbrella in hand. The last date I’d been on, I’d turned up with my hair plastered to my forehead by the rain. I had many faults, but at least I learned from my mistakes.
But the night stayed clear and chilly. I wore a jacket that made my shoulders look good, but it wasn’t terribly warm and, though I walked quickly, I was glad to reach the bustling bar.
The people clustered outside
smoking, chatting and laughing did look a good ten years younger than I was, but there were a few groups of older people, and the bar itself looked brightly lit and lively.
I was a touch early and, weaving between the clusters of tipsy young people, I found a seat for us at the back. It was one of the few tables left, but it was also an instinct for me, to want to be able to see the whole room, especially the entrance. And tucking us away a little would give us some privacy, although Taylor might not be able to spot me easily when she arrived.
I stood up to scan the room, looking for her, before pulling my phone out to let her know that I’d arrived. She didn’t reply, and I guessed that she might be driving. I thought about getting a drink, but the queue at the bar was already getting long, and I didn’t want to lose the table. Instead, I spent my time watching the people in there and looking around the room itself. It was a large space, though fairly low-ceiled, and done up in a rough wood/industrial way that was fashionable at the moment. The bar was a circular, freestanding affair and had customers gathered all around it, waiting to be served.
The theme of the place was tropical, like an urban beach shack, but it’d been overlaid with Halloween decorations, including orange fairy lights, pumpkins and strings of paper skulls hanging from the beams on the ceiling. The drinks, too, when I took a glance at the menu, were pretty standard flavours, but had been renamed with Halloween in mind.
There was a large, loud group of university-aged students off to my left, near the entrance to the loos. There were maybe seven or eight of them, but they made enough noise for twice that many. From the way some of them were staggering around when they got up, they’d probably been here since opening time and drunk their way through all the empty glasses now crowding their table. As a police officer, I couldn’t help but be slightly tense, aware of the trouble they might cause. For now, they remained loud but jovial and relaxed, so I turned my attention away.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I smiled to see a text from Taylor saying that she’d arrived. Standing up, which brought my eye-level above most people’s heads in here, I spotted her by the door and waved. She didn’t see me, and I sent her a text to tell her where I was, watching her read it before scanning the space for me.
DI Mitchell Yorkshire Crime Thrillers: Book 1-3 Page 35
