Urge to Kill (1)

by Franklin, JJ

  Matt realised he would be accused of being sexist, but he had to admit that this was the time when Fluff came into her own, and he was more than glad that she was on his team. He didn’t think it was just because she was female, more that she had, and he tried recalling some past police lecture, empathy—that was the word.

  Fluff moved forward, taking a seat and encouraging Katie to sit beside her.

  Matt took a seat to the side, content to let Fluff handle the whole interview.

  ‘Katie, I know how awful this must be for you. However, if we are going to catch the person who did this to Miss Metcalfe, then we need you to tell us exactly what you saw. It could give us a vital clue.’

  Katie cleared her throat. ‘I went to the Atrium—to collect Miss Metcalfe. I called her name about three times, but no one answered. So I went to Reception just to check it was right. Sandi said…said…’

  Fluff broke in to stop Katie from breaking down again. ‘Katie. Look at me, Katie.’ She waited until Katie looked up. ‘You are doing so well. What you have to say could really help us.’

  Matt watched as Katie fought back her tears.

  ‘Sandi remembered her especially because…because the massage had been booked by her mother—for a birthday treat.’

  The last words came out in a sudden rush, as if Katie didn’t want to think about the people involved. Not Amy or her mother who lived in Leeds. Matt thought grimly that Amy’s mother would just about now be hearing how her birthday treat had ended.

  ‘How many people were waiting in the Atrium, Katie?’

  ‘It was fairly quiet being Monday. I would think about eight, maybe ten.’

  ‘So what did you do then?’

  ‘I went to…to the storeroom, to get some oils and things. I thought I would give her five minutes, then check again.’ Katie’s voice was beginning to quiver and she looked down into her lap.

  ‘Katie, I know this next bit is going to be difficult for you, but I need you to be brave for just a little longer. Do you think you can do that?’

  Katie looked up at Fluff. ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘Great. Now, as you left the Atrium and walked along the corridor to the storeroom, did you see anyone?’

  There was silence in the room as Katie tried to recall her walk towards making her gruesome discovery. Matt knew that a witness could become amnesic around such horror.

  ‘Just think about the first few steps,’ Fluff prompted her.

  ‘After I passed the guests who were waiting, I turned left into the corridor. Moira was just going into her room with a client. She does heated stones. Then I passed the end of my corridor…The storeroom is on the right…just a bit farther up.’

  Katie tapered off and Matt couldn’t help injecting. ‘And?’

  Fluff gave him a sharp look and flapped her hand at him warning him not to interfere before turning back to Katie.

  ‘You passed your corridor?’

  ‘Someone passed me. Oh God, what if it was him?’

  ‘So the person you passed was a man?’

  Matt felt like shaking Katie but stayed still. Katie nodded.

  ‘Would you recognise this person again, Katie?’

  ‘No. I wasn’t really looking.’

  ‘But you’re sure it was a man. What was he wearing?’

  ‘White. A white robe.’

  Another white robe, just like all the others. He would be free to mingle in amongst all the other guests. The murderer had chosen well, Matt thought.

  ‘I know you weren’t looking, Katie, but did you get an impression that this man was tall or short?’

  ‘Tall, about that much taller than me.’ Katie indicated the difference with her hand.

  Matt estimated that Katie was five-one, which meant that the man was around the six-foot mark. Matt stood. ‘So about my height?’

  Katie, now much quieter, looked at Fluff almost as if she was asking permission to answer his question. Fluff nodded encouragement.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank you, Katie.’ It was a shame that Katie hadn’t been able to give them any specific information. Once she had opened the door to the horror inside, she had run straight to Mrs Trowbridge who, unable to make out what Katie was saying, had sent for the manager.

  Before Katie could begin to deteriorate back into a tearful helplessness, Matt suggested that it might be a good idea if he return her to Mrs Trowbridge’s care with the suggestion that the good lady arrange for a taxi home.

  Glad at the thought of getting out of the room, Katie dried her eyes and allowed Matt to lead her to the front desk where Mrs Trowbridge gathered her in behind the reception desk like a mother duck collecting one of her wayward chicks.

  As Matt left the desk, Sam caught up with him

  ‘OK to let the day guests leave, Guv? One or two are becoming a right pain. I’ve checked all the addresses and re-interviewed those we highlighted. Sam referred to his notes. ‘Clive Draper,’ he read, flipping over the pages of his notebook. ‘If you remember he was noted because he had mentioned the word murder. Well, he says the old lady next to him told him, and I think it’s possible or highly likely that such a rumour would spread through the crowd. What with all us lot clomping about, the police tape, et cetera. It’s what they see on Midsomer Murders, and they put two and two together and make five pretty fast, or in this case four.’

  ‘Let them go, Sam, but make sure they know we might need to see them again. And impress on them to ring us if they remember anything, no matter how small.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘What about the others who were highlighted?’

  ‘Well, Miss Belcott, who gave the wrong area code, has only just moved here from Norwich, so I think I’m inclined to believe her.’

  ‘And she’s very pretty,’ Matt teased.

  ‘Well, yes. She does have a lovely smile and those sky blue eyes—wow. But of course that wouldn’t affect me at all. You know me, Guv, not at all.’

  Matt grinned, glad that they were able to relieve the grim realities of dealing with the murder case with some harmless banter. That was all it was, harmless banter, and although it might seem cruel and uncaring to anyone from the outside, it helped the team keep the victim and those affected one step away, essential if they weren’t to be dragged down into the agony of feelings that shut out the details and clouded the facts.

  Before Sam left to tell the anxious knot of day guests they were free to go, he turned back to Matt. ‘Oh, and I’ve put Mr Williams in Mrs Trowbridge’s office. Something right dodgy going on there.’

  ‘Right, we’ll see him together. Give me a minute.’

  As Matt turned to head back to the manager’s office, he was shocked to see Eppie sitting and talking to two of the guests they had interviewed in the café. What was she doing here? The phone call made sense now. He was overwhelmed with a rush of fear. The murderer could still be on the scene. Eppie, his Eppie, could be sitting there talking to the killer. Anger took over, leaving him so shaken that for a moment he couldn’t move. It was then that Eppie looked up and saw him.

  ‘Matt,’ she called jumping up and moving towards him before he could stop her.

  Matt knew that he needed to keep all his concentration on the job. He couldn’t have Eppie on the scene. This was an entirely new feeling worrying about another person, and he didn’t like it at all. He grasped her arm roughly and led her to a quiet corner.

  ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ he demanded. ‘I can’t have and don’t want you around while I’m working on a case.’ As she shook her arm free, Matt could see that his words were like a blow to Eppie. She was quick to recover, moving a step backwards before replying with dignity.

  ‘I’m here for a job interview. What did you think? That I’m following you around like a lost kitten?’

  Matt felt embarrassed and stupid but pride kept him from admitting this. ‘Well, go home. You might compromise my investigation.’

  ‘That’s downright stupid. How could I
possibly do that?’

  Matt could now see the same fiery glint in Eppie’s eyes that had been there on the day they first met and realised he would have to calm things down quickly. ‘Because with a murderer running around, I don’t need to worry about you.’ He was relieved when Eppie smiled and thought she had seen the sense of what he was saying until she reached up to kiss him on the cheek.

  ‘That’s OK then because I can look after myself,’ she replied over her shoulder as she walked away. ‘And besides, it might be good to have someone on the inside.’

  Touching the side of her nose with the tip of her finger, she gave him a grin before walking back to Reception, leaving Matt angry and undecided. Should he go after her and demand that she obey him? He couldn’t recall there had been anything in the wedding ceremony about obeying, but wasn’t it what a wife was supposed to do? However, even if he had the right, it was obvious that Eppie would just laugh at him, and he could hardly march into Reception and cause a domestic scene.

  While he stood in a quandary his mind was made up for him by the arrival of Fluff who had finished writing up her notes from the therapist’s interview and then of Jason who also wanted a word with him. He gave in and tried to concentrate his mind on the job.

  CHAPTER 10

  It was sheer luck that, when the skinny young detective came to tell the group of day guests they could leave, Clive was chatting to Sandi, the receptionist, filling her in on what had been going on. He watched the other guests scurry away, no doubt to seek solace from loved ones and friends for the dreadful ordeal they had been through, while he remained.

  It was then that he noticed the bossy Inspector Turrell with a young woman. At first, they appeared to be arguing, and although he couldn’t hear what they were saying, the Inspector looked angry, even when the girl reached up to kiss him.

  Intrigued, he decided to take his time glancing through the treatment brochure while at the same time taking it all in. Was she a girlfriend or his significant other? It was obvious he didn’t want her here, and Clive guessed a working detective wouldn’t want his love life clogging up a murder scene. She, however, seemed perfectly happy and was now chatting to three of the guests interviewed with him in the café, including the old lady.

  Realising that it might be to his advantage to learn a little more about the girl, he decided that Mother could wait for her shopping trip and ordered a cappuccino at the small coffee bar. He made sure he chose a table by the door so that he could observe her while he decided how to use the knowledge to his advantage.

  Clive watched her as she chatted with the guests. She seemed to have an easy rapport with all ages. The guests would be talking of their experience, and he guessed they would feel better for having unloaded their feelings. Maybe I should stroll across and join them, he thought.

  But, if this woman knew his name, was able to recognise him, would that be a good thing? It might not be to his advantage, depending of course on what use he found for her. She could be a very potent weapon against DI Turrell and would be a suitable subject for his next statement. The thought excited him and he began to imagine how it would devastate the Inspector.

  However, she might be more useful to him alive, at least for a while. If he found out more about her, then he would learn more about the Inspector. Having made his decision, he finished his cappuccino and strode across the foyer towards the group.

  The old lady offered an easy introduction and he bent towards her putting his hand solicitously on her arm.

  ‘How are you feeling now?’

  ‘Oh fine, thank you. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant experience. But the police were very kind weren’t they?’

  This gave Clive the opening he needed and he nodded towards the young woman. ‘Not to everyone.’ She seemed upset that anyone had witnessed her interaction so he allowed concern for committing a possible social faux pas to cross his face. ‘Oh, so sorry. I couldn’t help noticing.’

  The group were all looking towards the woman, who seemed a little embarrassed by their attention.

  ‘He is just someone I know.’

  ‘So you’re not the chief suspect then?’

  ‘Not guilty. I’m hoping to get a job here.’

  This was interesting. Clive needed to know more.

  ‘What job will you be doing, my dear?’ the old lady asked.

  Clive could have kissed her for asking the exact question he had in mind.

  ‘Receptionist. They need someone urgently, due to sickness.’

  ‘Well, they have the kindest receptionists here and I’m sure you will just fit right in,’ the old lady said and patted the woman’s hand.

  ‘She’s right.’ He decided to be bold and offered his hand to the old lady. ‘Clive Draper. Mrs…?’

  ‘Mrs Cox.’

  ‘I wondered if you needed a lift home. I know how Mother would feel if she been caught up in something like this.’ Although giving his full attention to Mrs Cox, from the corner of his eye he saw the Inspector’s woman smile. He had established his kindness and had moved a step towards earning her trust.

  ‘That’s very kind of you, Dear, but I’ve called my daughter. She should be here shortly.’

  Clive’s smile was genuine. ‘If you are sure?’ Mrs Cox nodded and smiled. For a moment he felt at a loss on how to prolong the conversation so he stood as if to leave, then he leant towards the Inspector’s woman holding out his hand. ‘Good luck with the job…Miss?’

  ‘Featherstone, Eppie. Oh no…it’s Turrell. I’ve just got married.’

  ‘How lovely. I wish you so much happiness, my dear.’

  He let Mrs Cox gush before carrying on, deciding to ignore the obvious connection to DI Turrell. That maiden name was ringing bells with him. ‘Featherstone? Seems familiar.’ He looked suitably puzzled hoping that she would enlighten him.

  ‘Probably Pete Featherstone, my dad. He’s a yachtsman and always in the news, usually for getting blown off course or capsizing.’

  ‘That’s it. I used to follow all the news bulletins.’ Clive sat down next to her trying to think of something intelligent to say about yachting. ‘It always seems very dangerous.’

  ‘It is unless you know what you are doing, and even then…’

  ‘Wasn’t he in that race where everyone had to be rescued? The big storm?’ He sought to remember the news reports of a few years back.

  ‘Yes. But he was one of the lucky ones and ended up helping to bring in some of the other boats.’

  ‘You must be very proud of him.’

  ‘I am.’

  He noticed a sense of sadness. ‘But you miss him?’

  ‘Sometimes. But I’m with Matt now.’

  ‘For better or for worse?’

  Eppie smiled at that and the sadness lifted. ‘Probably worse for a few days until all of this is wrapped up. He’s upset just because I’m here.’

  ‘It will just be the stress of the case.’

  ‘I would give him something nice to eat when he gets home, my dear,’ Mrs Cox interjected, ‘and it will all be forgotten. That’s what I used to do when my Alf was out of sorts.’

  ‘I’ll give that a try,’ Eppie laughed.

  Mrs Cox had served her usefulness and Clive wished her daughter would come and whisk her away so he could have Eppie to himself. However, he smiled at her to keep up his caring persona. Eppie was quiet and he guessed she was wondering what meal she could prepare to ease her husband’s anger. He needed to get back into conversation with her, so he ventured a question. ‘What are his favourites?’

  ‘I haven’t really cooked for him yet, but we both enjoyed the Italian food we had on holiday.’

  Fate was indeed handing him Mrs Turrell on a plate. It couldn’t be more perfect. ‘Then you need Rossini’s delicatessen. You are sure to find everything he likes there.’

  She jumped at the idea, and so he began giving directions before pausing, as if struck by an idea. ‘Look, why don’t you follow me? I’ve been promising Mother f
or ages that I would pick up some of the ham she likes.’

  ‘Well, I haven’t been interviewed yet. Plus, I don’t want to take you out of your way.’

  ‘You won’t be and I was about to have a light lunch, so you don’t need to worry about the time.’

  ‘Well, if you are sure?’

  ‘It will be my pleasure.’ Even as he said it, he realised what a stroke of luck this was. It felt as if the gods were supporting him. He couldn’t lose.

  Clive left Eppie and Mrs Cox and went back to the coffee bar, knowing he had better look at the early lunch menu, otherwise he couldn’t justify remaining at the small table while the other tables around him were beginning to fill up. Ordering a salad from the lite bite section and another cappuccino, he settled back to wait.

  Mrs Cox went off with her daughter, giving a friendly wave as she did. Then it wasn’t long before the head receptionist, who reminded him of a stately galleon, came to collect Eppie. The two of them disappeared into the offices behind the reception desk.

  While he was idly picking at the boring salad, the Inspector strode up to the reception desk. Clive watched as his eyes went to where Eppie had been sitting and saw him turn away as he realised she wasn’t there. Neither relief nor disappointment registered on the DI’s face, but Clive guessed he would always try to keep his feelings under control in a work situation. It said something for the extent of his anger that he had lost his temper before.

  Well, the inspector was going to have a lot more to contend with by the time Clive had finished with him.

  CHAPTER 11

  Matt forced himself to concentrate on what Jason was saying although his mind kept slipping back to Eppie. Jason handed Matt an evidence bag and inside was something Matt would have never expected, a small toy soldier in what at first glance appeared to be a uniform from around the Napoleon period. He glanced up in surprise at Jason.

  ‘Where?’ Matt asked. Jason didn’t seem shocked at the find, but then he had been in forensics for nearly thirty years and had seen everything a few times over.

  ‘Folds of the dress,’ he replied laconically, chewing.