Blood on Snow

by Rachel Amphlett

  ‘We’re going to have to be careful with this. At the moment, we have a theory but no evidence to support it – yet.’ Sharp loosened his tie as his eyes met Kay’s. ‘Let’s bring Hugh Starling in for questioning – and tell him he’ll need a solicitor present.’

  Chapter Eleven

  Kay showed Hugh Starling and his solicitor into interview room two, closed the door and crossed to the table where Sharp sat, his face impassive.

  Starling and his wife were shaken by the police turning up on their doorstep, more so when Hugh was asked to attend Maidstone station for questioning.

  Starling fetched the drone from his garage without a fuss, confusion in his voice as he handed it over to Higgins, who then guided him to the waiting patrol car.

  Even now, when Kay glanced at the man as she entered the room, she could sense his bewilderment.

  The shoebox-sized drone was now enclosed within a see-through evidence bag, which Kay placed on the table while she took her seat beside the detective sergeant and switched on the recording machine.

  As Sharp cited the formal caution, she ran her gaze over the sides of the drone’s plastic moulding and frowned at the scuff marks on one side, a dark substance smeared beside the right-hand landing gear.

  ‘Mr Starling, we have some questions in relation to the events of Monday morning and the death of Liz Carter,’ Sharp began. ‘When my colleague DC Hunter spoke with you and asked about the footprints in the snow in your back garden, could you please confirm what you said?’

  Starling cleared his throat and leaned forward, his hands in his lap. ‘Of course. I went out to top up the bird feeders and empty the food scraps into the compost bin.’

  ‘Did you do anything else out there that morning? Perhaps something you failed to mention to DC Hunter at the time?’

  ‘I-I only didn’t mention it because Beverley would’ve been cross,’ he said. ‘She’s been nagging me not to fly the drone in the garden but the radio transmitter was playing up last time I took it down to the park and I spent the weekend fixing it. I just wanted to give it a quick test flight to see if it worked.’

  ‘And did it?’

  Starling nodded. ‘For the first couple of minutes, yes. I got it up to about ten feet…’ He broke off, frowned. ‘But then the signal was lost. I don’t know what happened. Bloody nuisance, to be honest.’

  ‘What did you do next?’ said Sharp.

  The detective sergeant kept his hands flat on the manila folder, but Kay could sense the tension emanating from him.

  She held her breath.

  ‘Well, that’s the thing. I was trying to get the drone to come back to me and land it but it went up another couple of feet, then shot across the tree line.’

  Sharp flipped open the folder and pushed an aerial photograph of the area across the table. ‘Could you show me on here the direction it went?’

  Starling reached out. ‘Here. Across the border with the Carters. Then I lost sight of it – nothing was working with the controls.’

  ‘How long was the drone out of control?’

  ‘Not long. Perhaps a minute. Then – I don’t know – something in one of the switches gave under my touch and I could hear it again. It appeared above the trees, and I was able to fly it back. Landed it next to the kitchen door as I heard Beverley turn off the shower upstairs.’

  Sharp turned the evidence bag around. ‘These markings on the drone here, were they there before or after you flew it on Monday?’

  ‘Afterwards.’ Starling sighed. ‘It’s covered in mud or something as well – I put it out in the garage before Beverley came downstairs. I’ll fix it next time she’s out shopping with her friends next week. She’ll be asking me what I was doing with it otherwise.’

  ‘What time was this?’

  Starling shifted in his seat. ‘Just after eight o’clock, I suppose. Beverley’s morning routine is like clockwork so she would’ve been in the bathroom at eight.’

  ‘And so that’s when you decided to sneak out and test the drone while she wasn’t looking?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Mr Starling…’ Sharp paused, glancing at the man’s solicitor for a moment, then back to the pensioner. ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, but we have reason to believe that your drone was responsible for the death of Liz Carter on Monday morning.’

  Starling paled, his eyes wide. ‘That – that can’t be true.’

  Sharp patted the evidence bag. ‘We’re going to run some tests on this but believe me, I’ve seen enough blood in my time doing this job to recognise it when I see it, and this isn’t mud. Liz Carter was killed by someone – or something – that managed to enter her garden within a six-minute timeframe and leave no footprints in thick snow. One of her children reported hearing a buzzing noise at the time, something with a small motor – such as a drone.’ Sharp closed the manila folder, a sadness in his voice as he continued. ‘Based on our conversation and the evidence to hand, I have to conclude that you were responsible for her death.’

  Kay heard Starling’s sharp intake of breath as he raised a shaking hand to his mouth.

  ‘I didn’t know I killed anyone. I didn’t know I killed Liz.’

  ‘Nevertheless, Mr Starling I am obliged to read you your rights and explain what will happen next.’

  Hugh Starling held his hands to his grief-stricken face, sobs wracking his shoulders as Sharp’s words rang out in the small room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kay filed the last of her reports to the database folder for the investigation, the satisfaction of a murder case being successfully closed tinged with a bittersweet sense of loss.

  A subdued atmosphere hung in the air after Sharp explained to the investigating team that they had found their killer, a silence descending while administrative staff and uniformed officers tidied their desks, a palpable shock underlying their mumbled conversations.

  It had fallen to Christie to call Beverley Starling and advise that her husband was under arrest for suspicion of killing Liz Carter, the woman’s wails audible as he’d held his phone away from his ear before calming her as best he could.

  Sharp had spoken to Andrew Carter, his face ashen when he returned from the family home.

  ‘Some Christmas they’re going to have,’ said Higgins, his voice little more than a murmur as he packed paperwork and folders into boxes ready to be passed on to the Crown Prosecution Service in the New Year.

  ‘Two families…’ Kay shook her head. ‘All because of an accident.’

  ‘So he really had no idea?’

  ‘None at all – Hoyle has put a suicide watch on his cell tonight, just in case.’

  Higgins placed the boxes on the floor beside her desk and leaned on the topmost one. ‘Are you going to be all right? You’ve been quiet ever since you and Sharp came back upstairs after the interview.’

  ‘I will be.’ She forced a smile, switched off her computer and pulled on her wool coat, flicking her hair over the collar. ‘Safe drive home, Simon.’

  ‘You too.’

  Outside in the car park, Kay raised her gaze to the fresh flurry of snowflakes drifting in front of the streetlights beyond the security barrier, tiny prickles of ice catching on her eyelids as she inhaled the crisp air.

  Her phone rang, shattering the peace.

  Fishing it out from her bag, she smiled when she recognised her neighbour’s name on the display.

  ‘Jas? Everything all right?’ Music played in the background, something with a piano, and she could hear the clink of glassware somewhere close by over muted conversations. ‘Where are you?’

  ‘I’m in Maidstone – Peter fancied a drink somewhere and a change of scenery. We found this lovely little bar off East Street. We thought you might like to join us, if you’ve finished for the day?’

  ‘I don’t know, Jasmina,’ she said, a sense of panic rising in her chest as she headed towards her car. ‘I wouldn’t want to encroach on your date night. Besides, it’s been a busy week and
we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow…’

  ‘When was the last time you went out?’ Jasmina demanded. ‘I mean, out properly, not just our usual catch-up?’

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Exactly. Come on. Get yourself over here. Just have one, if you must. It’s nearly Christmas, after all. Besides…’ she lowered her voice, and Kay could hear her making her excuses as she found somewhere quieter to talk. ‘There’s someone I want you to meet. A friend of Peter’s. I think you’ll like him.’

  ‘Jas, if you’re trying to…’

  ‘He’s a vet, Kay.’

  ‘A vet?’ Kay opened the car door and slipped behind the wheel.

  ‘You know, animals and stuff.’

  ‘I know what a vet does, Jas.’

  ‘He’s good looking, too.’

  Despite herself, despite the tiredness that crawled through her system, Kay smiled at her friend’s attempts to cajole her into being more sociable and turned the key in the ignition.

  ‘Well, in that case…’

  * * *

  THE END

  About the Author

  Before turning to writing, USA Today bestselling author Rachel Amphlett played guitar in bands, dabbled in radio as a presenter and freelance producer for the BBC, and worked in publishing as an editorial assistant.

  She now wields a pen instead of a plectrum and writes crime fiction and spy thrillers, including the fast paced Dan Taylor and English Assassins espionage novels, and the Detective Kay Hunter and Detective Mark Turpin British murder mystery series.

  After 13 years living in Australia, Rachel has returned to the UK and is currently based in the south of England.

  You can find out more about her writing at www.rachelamphlett.com.