Charley tilted her head towards Lisa. ‘Well, we know for sure that Viper will have a gallery of photographs of similar likeness to the witnesses’ description, and that even though our suspect’s identity is not known, they can be shown to our witnesses. As they say nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ added Charley.
Annie nodded in agreement. ‘Security has been made aware of the increased numbers of reports made to the police, and have been instructed to report anything of a similar nature to us immediately. I have been assured by the boss that they are briefing their staff, who have been given the description of the person that we would like to speak to in relation to the incidents, and posters are going up throughout the university as we speak.’
‘Did we manage to get any footwear marks from the incident involving Dani?’ asked Charley.
‘Just a partial impression from a right foot, which we thought probably sufficient to do a comparison match if we have a suspect’s footwear,’ said Lisa.
‘Could we check the footprint database to see if there’s a match?’ asked Charley.
‘Already done, boss. There is nothing that links it to outstanding jobs,’ Lisa replied.
Helen curled up her nose. ‘We were disappointed that there were no marks of value lifted from the drainpipe.’
Charley released a slight breath, and adjusted her position on her chair. ‘That’s good work so far though,’ she said in an encouraging way. ‘Keep digging. It looks to me as if he is returning to his hunting ground where he had previous success. We’ll get him.’
‘He sounds like a creature of habit to me, and let’s face it there are a lot of women in one location to choose from,’ said Annie.
Charley inhaled deeply through her nose as she gave this some thought, then started to ask questions. ‘He must spend a lot of time on campus watching his victims, to know exactly which flat is occupied by a lone woman. What worries me is that the control freak is getting bolder, and more confident as time goes on. What’s the CCTV coverage like in the vicinity of any of these incidents, do we know?’
‘That’s something that we are liaising with security about at the moment, but they’re dragging their feet – this is one of the cameras that are not working, and that has been disconnected.’ Lisa swallowed a curse. ‘You know the excuses from those who haven’t the time to do what is in the job description.’
‘Any difficulties, or if you don’t get sufficient co-operation, let me know, and I’ll get involved. Can you map the locations of the incidents, and see if we can locate a nucleus, if there is one. Do we have a common factor between his victims, such as appearance, are they on the same course, are they members of the same social groups etcetera?’ said Charley.
‘Does he break into the flats because the victims leave their windows ajar?’ asked Annie.
‘That’s a good point, but how would he know that the occupant of the room is a female, without surveillance of his victim? He can only know this if he has seen them going into their flat, or been in their flat; or is it someone who has access to the residency records? We haven’t had one male occupant disturbed at all, as far as I’m aware,’ said Charley.
‘No, you’re right, and the blocks aren’t separated by gender either,’ added Helen.
‘Could he be a student, or someone who works on campus, or just an opportunist wandering around the university grounds and buildings?’ added Lisa.
‘Let’s develop a planned response, prepare an action plan, should another incident occur either on the complex, or nearby, and let’s review what CCTV we can get hold of. I will have a word with the head of security. They need to step up the patrols whether they want to or not.’ Charley stopped in her tracks as though a thought had just come to her. ‘He’s never spoken… I wonder if he’s got a strong accent that might identify him, or a speech impediment of some kind.’ Charley said.
Suddenly Mike Blake entered the room. Charley sharpened her focus on his large frame that filled her doorway. The three women turned to face him. ‘Boss,’ he said. ‘We’ve just identified a young lad with the three girls on CCTV, on the night of Cordelia’s death,’ he said.
Charley’s face lit up. ‘Now that is music to my ears. One of our regulars?’ Charley asked, jumping to her feet.
‘Yes.’
The SIO followed by the others followed him into the Incident Room. ‘Let’s see if we can eliminate him, or put him in the frame,’ she said.
‘With pleasure, boss,’ he said.
Chapter 15
By the grace of God, or the luck of the Devil, whichever way Charley looked at it, Maddox ‘Maddog’ Madoc Junior had reached the age of nineteen. His file suggested that this was no thanks to his upbringing. His mugshot showed deep, sunken, empty eyes, the windows to a dark soul, through circumstances and poverty. Well-known to the police, his father, grandfather and great-grandfather were all dead before their time owing to a life of crime. Each had spent nearly half their life behind bars, and Maddox was, it appeared, heading in the same direction, at full throttle.
‘There’s only one place he’ll end up,’ was the phrase on the lips of all the professionals who came into contact with him, from the headteacher who expelled him, to a long line of social, community and youth workers. Even the local community bobby noted that Maddox deemed it a treat to have a warm bed and breakfast, and that he welcomed the opportunity of being locked up, which is why he mostly took him home with a warning for minor offences. Maddox had grown up with no respect for authority, which was hardly a surprise, because he knew no better than to take by any means whatever he wanted, when he wanted, from whom he wanted. Young offenders’ facilities, and latterly prison, were considered not to be a deterrent. These institutions were second homes to him, places where he could meet up with his mates, and meet new like-minded individuals who continued his tuition in criminal activity.
His mother, a sweet woman with bad taste in men, had a history of nervous breakdowns, spending much of her adult life appealing to everyone’s better nature on behalf of her errant son, but even she had to eventually admit that he was a lost cause, and at times begged the police to arrest him, in the hope that a custodial sentence would somehow teach him right from wrong.
Stocky, loud-mouthed and known as a fighter around town, Maddox was well-known to the nightclub bouncers, security guards, and the landlords and landladies for one thing, and that was his tendency to get into trouble when drunk.
According to his police record, the last time Maddox was arrested was three weeks previously, on suspicion of robbery with violence and then bailed pending further enquiries. The victim, Charley read, was a young male, and the offence had occurred at a cashpoint machine in the town centre. When he snatched the victim’s money, he also smashed the victim’s head into the wall of the bank, before running from the scene of the crime. The team who had gone to his home address on that occasion had had to taser him in an attempt to restrain him. Only then were they able to handcuff and arrest him.
Although it was noted that he was intelligent. Maddox wasn’t a clever thief, he relied on threatening behaviour and violent tactics to get what he wanted. It was also noted that his victims were always smaller and weaker, then, after coming into contact with him, fearful of reprisals should they speak out.
Charley closed the file and thought for a moment, looking absently out the window of her office. It could of course be pure coincidence that Maddox had appeared on their CCTV footage on the night of the murder. And then again, it could be a major lead. Maddox was now at the very least a person of interest to the case.
On the direct enquiry team today was Detective Constable Bill Whitehill, purposely selected for his experience and negotiating skills. He had built up a rapport with Maddox over a number of years, whilst dealing with both him and his father. It was hoped that the detective’s attendance at Maddox’s door would have a calming effect. Charley could hear Mike and Bill discussing their approach to the suspect through the open door of her office.<
br />
‘Best to get uniform to cover the back door of Maddox’s address,’ said the shrewd, ruddy-faced DC Whitehill.
DS Blake gave him a surprised look. ‘But we only want to speak to him at this stage,’ he said. ‘See what he knows.’
Bill eyed Mike closely, and a slightly pitiful smile of half-disbelief twisted his lips. ‘That may be the case, but you obviously don’t know Maddox. I’m telling ’ya, one whiff of the police at his door and he’s not hanging about.’
Mike looked across the desk at DC Wilkie Connor working away at his computer terminal. ‘Most people think that when we’re investigating a murder, we’d get co-operation, but that couldn’t be further from the truth could it?’
Bill shook his head slowly from side to side. ‘Definitely not, it’s odds-on that once we get to the Byron Estate we’ll be verbally abused, spat at, or threatened with physical assault.’
‘However, we don’t have no-go areas on our patch, do we Bill?’ asked Charley, walking out of her office and nodding at her officers.
Bill smiled kindly at the SIO. ‘We certainly don’t, ma’am! We are here to police and that’s what we’ll do.’
‘Right, I want his shoe size, a shoe print, an alibi or lack thereof for the time of the murder, and the names of the three women he was with.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘Find out if he knew the victim. I imagine they could have crossed paths in their line of work.’
* * *
The Madoc family council house loomed up in the rainy twilight as Mike steered the CID car cautiously around the corner of The Grove. The uniform car parked six feet behind. Immediately, curious youths congregated under the street lamps, observing the visitors. Not deterred by the weather, they were there for a reason, and seeing the police, they straightaway pulled out their mobile phones, no doubt warning the drug dealers that the police were on the estate, but the latter would not be intimidated.
‘We can’t expect support from the public in this area, if things kick off. In fact just the opposite,’ said Mike.
‘I recommend you park the car where we can keep an eye on it, if you don’t want the tyres slashing that is,’ said Bill.
As if privy to the conversation, the group nearby could be seen sniggering.
Focused on the house, Mike saw that the windows were cloudy with grime. Tired, limp curtains were suspended from their fixing in crazed disarray. The fact that the curtains were drawn together in daylight hours was no surprise for a house on the Byron Estate, because here they were drawn to protect, or hide, what was inside from prying eyes.
Once out of the car, Mike gave a nod to the two uniformed officers, who headed directly for the rear of the property. A moment later he and Bill set off towards the front door, all the while scanning the area around the premises. Upon reaching the door, Mike knocked loudly.
All was quiet. Bill looked at Mike curiously when there was no response.
The DS repeated the knock, but this time he announced himself. As far as he was concerned Maddox was inside, he was going nowhere, and he wanted him to know it.
To Bill’s surprise, Maddox, wearing nothing but scruffy, dirty tracksuit bottoms, answered the door. He was bare-chested and the officers were presented with his obviously steroid-induced muscular physique, undoubtedly acquired in the prison’s gymnasium. He had a display of tattoos that spread from his neck to his waist. Bill recalled Maddox as a pale, weak, apathetic youngster, but he was no longer that.
‘What?’ said the pimply youth, leaning lazily against the door jamb, looking as if he hadn’t washed in a long time. His somewhat relaxed response to their appearance was particularly surprising to Bill.
Bill looked past him at the faded, peeled-back flock wallpaper, and a pile of electrical tools thrown at the bottom of the staircase then into the dingy, dark hallway scattered with boxes and other miscellaneous debris. ‘Just getting up, or going to bed?’ asked Bill.
Maddox pulled his hand from down the front of his trousers and showed him his middle finger, and grinned, exposing a set of crooked, yellowing teeth.
Bill smirked. ‘That’s more like it,’ he mumbled.
‘We’re investigating the murder of the woman with pink hair, who used to sit outside the Medway; you might have seen her when you’ve been out and about in town.’
Noticing the expression on his face, the officers were hopeful that he knew something of her before he spoke.
‘Everybody knows the pink lady, but I’m no murderer,’ he said to Bill, taking a half-smoked roll-up out of his pocket and lighting it with a lime green, cheap plastic lighter.
‘We’re speaking to everyone in town that night who has been identified on CCTV, and you are one of them, caught on camera with three young ladies,’ said Mike.
Tight-lipped, Maddox nodded. ‘You think so d’ya?’
‘We know so,’ said Bill firmly.
‘Did you see the pink lady that night, or anyone else that you know who might be able to help us with our enquiries?’ asked Mike.
Maddox shook his head. ‘Nah, don’t think so,’ he went on with a guttural chuckle. ‘We were all too bloody pissed.’
‘We’ll need to speak to your lady friends to see if they saw the woman in question. Do you have their contact details?’ asked Mike.
‘I’ll tell ’em you want to speak to ’em, but I’m telling you now, they won’t remember owt.’
The raising of an eyebrow, and a stern-looking face told Maddox that DC Whitehill was not messing. ‘Make it a priority will you. This is a murder investigation we’re dealing with,’ he said.
Maddox raised his eyebrows, and at the same time the tone of his voice changed. ‘Yeah, I get it DC Whitehill,’ he said rubbing the side of his nose with a grubby finger.
‘We’ll need a statement off you all about that night, so if you can come into the station together that would be great,’ said Mike. ‘Otherwise we’ll keep calling back until you do, and I’m sure you don’t want us around ’ere any more than we want to visit you.’
‘Too fucking right I don’t. People will start thinking I like ya.’
Bill raised his eyebrows, turned to look over his shoulder at the watching silent gathering beyond, and reached into his pocket from which he removed his wallet and held it high enough so they could see it. When he turned back to Maddox he winked an eye, ‘Or a grass,’ he said.
Maddox’s face paled. ‘You bastard,’ he said with feeling, as the detectives turned and walked away, and the crowd looking on jeered. On the footpath beyond the garden they met with the uniformed officers who had been guarding the back door.
On seeing them, Maddox shouted. ‘See you came prepared with back-up, you spineless tossers!’
Was that a tremble Bill detected in his voice?
Mike unlocked the car door and slipped into the driving seat. Blowing air out of his puffed cheeks, he breathed. ‘Well, that was a response I didn’t expect,’ he said.
‘There’s got to be a first time for everything,’ replied Bill, his voice soft, but keeping a steely face for the purpose of the youths. ‘One thing we couldn’t do, because he was barefoot, was get a look at his footwear.’
Mike leaned forwards to put the key in the lock and then started the car’s engine. ‘I’ll highlight the fact on the action enquiry that his footwear impressions are still required, and check with the CCTV operators to see if his footwear is identifiable.’
‘If I know Maddox he’ll own a pair of expensive trainers,’ remarked Bill. ‘He’s always had a thing about brands ever since he was knee-high,’ he said.
* * *
Back at the Incident Room Charley was sitting reading through the latest intelligence bulletins, when she came across an incident report about someone walking their dog through an area known locally as Owler’s Wood. The bulletin stated that the witness had been startled by a naked male youth running through the area. Charley knew that the wood wasn’t that far from the university. Her interest was heightene
d. Immediately she forwarded the information to DC Annie Glover with a note.
‘Do you think this could be connected to the naked intruder enquiry?’
Whilst it was on her mind, she requested the police dog patrol to exercise their dogs in the area when possible, and see if that helped to identify this individual, or prevent a recurrence.
Coming across a police dog, trained primarily to attack, would give whoever it was one hell of a shock. She smiled wickedly at the thought.
Looking up on hearing a commotion in the outer office, she saw Mike and Bill through her internal window. Her mind immediately returned to the murder of Cordelia Le Beau and she awaited their update at the debrief with eager anticipation.
Chapter 16
When Mike put the phone down he remained perfectly still, and the furrow between his eyebrows deepened. He wasn’t conscious of Annie’s return to her desk until her voice broke into his thoughts.
‘You okay?’ she said.
The detective sergeant looked at his watch before answering. ‘Tell me, would you think it suspicious if Maddox, his girlfriend and her two friends were standing at the front desk waiting to speak to us, less than twenty-four hours since we asked them to pay us a visit?’
Wilkie leaned back in his chair, turned to Mike sitting next to him, and stretched his arms above his head. Opening his mouth wide, he yawned loudly. ‘Put it this way, I’ll bare my arse on the Town Hall steps if it isn’t,’ he said.
Annie considered her reply. ‘Let’s just say I wouldn’t have thought it was normal behaviour for him, or any of his acquaintances come to that, to comply with any request from the police.’
Persecution Page 11
