The metal footplates were the size of a paving slab. The three laid a pathway to, and around the body which lay spread-eagled on the floor. The blood had spread across the vinyl floor covering. Now the scene was duly protected, the three stood looking over the body at close quarters. The scene showed them deep cuts to both wrists and forearm which had severed the dentist’s radial and ulnar arteries and there was a deep wound to his throat. Dylan looked up and saw an empty bottle of whisky and an upturned glass. The word sorry had been scrawled in blood on the floor close to the dead man’s right hand side.
Leaving the body for a moment they took a look around the surgery which adjoined the reception room. It housed one dental chair, two stools, a sink, work surface and cabinets. It was laid out differently from Dylan’s own dentist’s surgery, although the contents of it were the same. He puzzled as to why this seemed unusual. Dylan’s eyes were drawn towards two dental implements, which lay side by side on the dentist’s bracket table, upon a tray on top of a pristine green drape. He pointed with his gloved hand.
‘They look like exactly the same shape, size and design as the tools that are missing,’ said Vicky.
‘Do you think he’s our serial killer boss?’ Jarv said.
‘He’ll have saved the country a lot of money by topping himself if he is,’ said Vicky.
Dylan was resolute. ‘Hold on you two. Think about it. Would the killer really have left them on display for us to find if he was going to commit suicide?’
‘Maybe, what with the funeral and the drink he decided to do the decent thing?’
‘Perhaps he actually used them on his patients?’ said Jarv,
‘But wouldn’t his dental nurse have questioned that?’ said Dylan.
‘He seemed like such a nice guy at the funeral,’ said Vicky.
‘No, no, this doesn’t feel right,’ said Dylan.
Dylan looked around him, his eyes were like two slits. ‘The more I ... I’m getting a really uncomfortable feeling about this scene,’ he said. ‘There are a couple of thoughts going through my mind. It is either straightforward and he has committed suicide and he is the killer or does someone want us to believe he is?’
Jarv was busy taking photographs around the scene. The detectives watched her. The antique dental tools were taken in situ, then seized as exhibits. The CSI supervisor then concentrated on the body and the blood distribution that surrounded it.
‘Boss,’ she said thoughtfully looking up at Dylan from where she crouched next to the body. ‘I’m pretty sure whoever wrote the words “sorry” here was wearing gloves. Look at the swirl pattern on the letter S here,’ she said pointing to the writing on the floor with her own gloved finger. ‘I would have expected to see our deceased’s fingerprint in that blood.’
Dylan knelt down beside her.
‘Also, look here,’ she continued. ‘Blood splashings that resemble blood being sprayed out of a spray can, at the side of the arterial blood which suggest he was facing the wall with his back to the entrance.’
‘So what you’re telling me is that we are right to be suspicious?’
‘What I’m saying is that in my opinion this is not a suicide. Someone has spent time here staging this scene.’
Industriously they continued to gather evidence. Dylan pulled Vicky to the side.
‘We need to find out more about Mr Crossfield. Get a few more of the team down here. See if we can locate CCTV in the immediate vicinity, if so retrieve and seize it,’ he said quietly. ‘For now, I want to keep a lid on what we know. I’ve spoken to the press office and they are aware to share nothing more than we are attending what is believed to be a suicide of a dentist in Harrowfield. The press will be told no more for now. When others are privy to the activity in the area no doubt we will have reporters here in a flash though, so we need to keep the scene secure. Identify an exhibits officer for seizing and recording relevant samples alongside Jarv. You and I will have to go to Crossfield’s home address. Can you ask control if Mr Crossfield is on our key holders list for the dental surgery alarm call out, because if he is we will have his home address details available to us immediately.’ Dylan’s eyes flashed in the direction of the red alarm box that stood proud from the wall above the door. Dylan turned to Jarv. ‘Will you make sure those dental implements are present at Martin Crossfield’s post-mortem. Professor Stow will be informed of the developments. It will be interesting to hear what he has to say.’ Dylan looked as though a thought had just occurred to him. ‘Has he a car?’
‘Well he drove one to the funeral. It was a dark blue Merc.’
‘Peter,’ Dylan shouted to Inspector Stonestreet, ‘Will you get your officers to have a quick look to see if there is a blue Mercedes on the street outside please?’
Inspector Stonestreet moved towards him. ‘We’d better get them to use the automatic retrieval number plate recognition on all the cars nearby. He might have more than one vehicle at his disposal,’ said Stonestreet.
‘Good thinking,’ Dylan said.
Dylan’s mind was skipping from one line of enquiry to another. He wanted to miss nothing. Only at times like these did he feel like the proverbial cat on a hot tin roof as he hopped from one thing to another.
CSI Jarvis was no longer alone, she had been joined by CSI Viney. They would remain at the scene until they were satisfied they had gathered every piece of evidence they could from the inner cordon. This procedure would take a few hours. Then and only then would the body be removed to the mortuary. A police officer would travel with Martin Crossfield’s body to the morgue for continuity purposes.
***
Recently separated, Martin Crossfield lived on his own in a semi-detached house on Park Road which was within walking distance of the dental practice. As Dylan and Vicky made their approach they could see his dark blue Mercedes on his driveway. They passed the information to Inspector Stonestreet over the airways. Mr Crossfield’s neighbour was very helpful to the detectives, informing them that his older sister was his next of kin and it was ascertained that she lived in Devon. From keys that had been in Mr Crossfield’s coat pocket Dylan arranged for Crossfield’s house to be searched.
Time was moving on and Dylan needed to try to either link him to the serial killings or eliminate him. He wondered which that would be. Or could it be that there had been more than one person involved in the murders all along?
The post-mortem examination was booked for six thirty.
‘Do you think it’s your man,’ asked Professor Stow.
‘I don’t think it’s as simple as that,’ said Dylan. ‘I’ll explain when I see you at the PM.’
There were numerous messages left on his answering machine from ACC Smythe as well as several missed calls from her number. She would have to wait. It was three thirty p.m. and the detectives hadn’t had a drink let alone a bite to eat and the adrenaline was pumping.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Dylan and Vicky travelled over the ornate, Victorian, Stan Bridge into Harrowfield town. They drove on familiar roads through the town centre. Without the police canteen they both knew they were in for a long day without food being readily available to them. Dylan pulled up outside his favourite pie shop. A warm P & I Hopkins pork pie and a can of Coke would have to sustain him; there was no indication as to how long the working day would be. Dylan’s phone rang as they stood in the queue looking longingly at the pies inside the glass-topped display cabinet.
‘Dylan,’ he said, turning away from the other customers.
‘Boss, it’s Jarv. When we moved the body we’ve found the print of a small toe section of a training shoe in blood beneath him.’
Vicky was in the queue and facing Dylan. His eyes found hers and he held her stare.
‘This confirms what we already thought. This isn’t a suicide. Our deceased is wearing smart, leather shoes.’
‘Thanks. Look, we’ll see you back at the incident room when you’ve finished up there. I’ll get uniform to protect the scene for a fu
rther twenty-four hours, just in case we need to return to it after the post-mortem. At this moment I won’t be updating the press.’
Dylan and Vicky ate their food in the car. ‘I don’t understand, why was Martin Crossfield selected as a victim?’ Vicky said. She wiped the meat juice from her lips with the back of her hand.
‘Because he’s a dentist maybe? I think someone wants us to think he’s the killer,’ Dylan said. He finished his drink, screwed the paper bag in a ball and handed both to Vicky in a carrier bag.
‘Thanks,’ she said.
***
The minute Dylan entered the incident room Lisa handed him a note. He took it from her outstretched hand. She was on the phone. ‘Ring ACC Smythe IMMEDIATELY !’ he read. He raised his eye brows as his eyes met hers. ‘Sorry, my fault, I told her you were on your way back to the station,’ she said in a whisper, before going back to her call.
Dylan briskly pushed the door open that led into his office, stuck the note on his blotting pad, took off his suit jacket threw it on his desk and flopped into his chair. He took a deep breath before picking up the telephone.
‘About time! I’ve been trying to get hold of you for two hours and as the person with overall charge of this enquiry you are well aware that I need to know exactly what’s going on!’ she said.
Dylan stared at the amount of enquiries listed on his wall chart, turned in his chair to face the window and screwed up his eyes. ‘But ma’am, everything is not quite as it seems,’ he said. ‘Hence the delay in me ringing you, but things are now moving along at a pace at the scene. We have recovered two dental tools which may, I repeat may, be the ones missing from the set we have in our possession.’
‘So it’s him? Has he left a confession?’
‘Well he has, but no, not really. The word sorry is scrawled on the floor, in blood.’
‘His blood?’
‘It looks like that but that hasn’t been verified as yet. CSI are still at the scene.’
‘What more do you need Dylan? We must have been getting too close for comfort,’ she said with an air of self-satisfaction. ‘I’m coming over there. We need to let the media know and reassure the public. Have you spoken to the press office? I can do that for you.’
‘No, not so fast it’s...’
Dylan heard the distinctive dialling tone that told him ACC Smythe had hung up. No doubt she was already on her way, imagining the crimes solved which Dylan knew was far from the truth. He looked downcast at Lisa. ‘Need a caffeine fix?’ she said.
‘I need to tie the ACC down when she gets here and pin her bloody ears back. That’s what I need,’ he said.
Vicky raised her eyebrows at Lisa, ‘Kinky eh?’
‘I can think of nothing worse,’ said Dylan, when he saw Beaky walking towards his door with the monthly budget statistics.
‘What did you say boss,’ said Lisa with a smile.
‘Touché!’
***
Dylan opened his messages on his computer. Interpol’s reply email to the Spanish intelligence he had submitted was swift. Force Intelligence was now liaising with them and they thanked him for the information on the Spanish pottery business and its owners which they were looking into. Dylan hoped his gut instincts about Ozzy’s business dealings were unfounded for Ralph and Thelma’s sake but only time would tell.
Dark and earnest eyes fixed upon Dylan’s face when his office door flew open and the ACC entered. ‘I haven’t long Dylan. I’m a busy woman. We need to discuss this press release. I’ve asked the press office to be prepared for an update.’
Lisa stood behind Wendy Smythe. Dylan nodded at the enquiring look on her face. She turned to the ACC, ‘Can I get you a drink too?’
‘Green tea with half a squeezed lemon,’ ACC Smythe said without taking her eyes off Dylan.
’We’ve got Yorkshire tea with a spoonful of sugar, or not...?’
‘Whatever,’ she said with a face that looked like she had sucked the lemon.
Dylan waited for Lisa to close the door. He was quiet, he was still, his face was more serious than usual. ‘When we spoke earlier, you hung up on me before I had chance to finish.’ Dylan’s eyebrows raised in an invitation for her to sit down. ‘You may like to make yourself comfortable and listen to what I was going to tell you before you go ahead.’
This was more of an instruction than a request. She sat with a sharp bending of her knees, while her back remained as stiff and straight as a poker. ‘What’s going on?’ she said with a stare that was persistent and aggressive.
Dylan took a deep breath. ‘Before you ask any questions, let me go through this morning’s events. I’ll tell you what we’ve discovered and then we can discuss a strategy.’
ACC Smythe’s face grew red, and her eyes cold and stony. ‘Well, yes, I suppose so, but I’ve... the Chief needs updating.’
Dylan lifted up his arm and showed her the palm of his hand. ‘Stop!’ he said. He saw her lean bony hands clench together on her lap. ‘You need to hear what’s happened. All is far from what it seems.’
She gave a jerk of her head, but Dylan carried on with the brief regardless. She listened.
Lisa brought the drinks in on a tray and offered a plate with biscuits to the ACC. She shook her head and waved her away. ‘I think I need to just clarify the situation with the Chief Constable,’ she said.
‘It is only due to careful examination of the crime scene and the experience afforded us by Sarah Jarvis and her team that this important evidence was uncovered. Our killer did a good job. He wants us to believe Martin Crossfield is our serial killer. I’m satisfied that he isn’t, but we have to have the necessary evidence before we move on.’
‘Well, who the hell is the killer then?’
‘If I knew that I’d tell you. But, it may be we are closer than we think and he’s trying to divert the attention away from himself.’
‘What a bastard,’ she said, with a snarl, ‘So, how do we play it then? What can I say to the press? Something along the lines of, “Officers from Operation Tangent are investigating the death of a local dentist whose body was found at his practice. This investigation is very much in its infancy?”’
‘If you must say anything at all... You do know you’ll get bombarded with questions about the serial killer don’t you?’
‘Obviously, but we’re keeping an open mind, aren’t we, and we are continuing to look closely at incidents that may or may not be connected to the series of murders? I can’t name the deceased yet can I?’
‘No, we have sent an out-of-force enquiry to Devon & Cornwall Police and they will go and inform his sister of his death, but we have not been updated to say that action has been completed. Local people in Harrowfield will obviously know who the dead man is so the editors of the newspapers etcetera will decide whether or not to run with it as a story until they have been formally given the information. They’ll have photographs by now of the officers guarding the scene in Trinity Road and I wouldn’t be surprised if the television camera crews are on our patch. Inspector Stonestreet is the duty inspector. He has plenty of experience. He taught me most of what I know, so I’m not worried on that score.’
‘Contrary to your belief I’m here to help, not hinder,’ said ACC Smythe. ‘I’ve every confidence that you’ll catch the evil bastard otherwise you would have been replaced by now,’ she said with flaccid smile.
‘How’s your Chinese by the way,’ he said opening his drawer and retrieving a brown A4 sized envelope.
She cocked her head. ‘Pigeon, why?’
‘Remember Phil and Yin telling you they’d send me a report on the Hong Kong murder that had a similar MO to our serial murders?’
She nodded.
‘Well, they’ve come up trumps,’ he said wafting the paperwork in front of her before laying it down on the desk before her.
Wendy stared at the envelope but it remained untouched by the ACC. She groaned, closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side. ‘No! Haven’t we
enough crimes of our own to solve,’ she said opening her eyes to give him a look of contempt.
‘I think we are very lucky that they have their ears to the ground. As worldwide private investigators I don’t think there is a lot we could teach them about the sharing of information. At least our murderer hasn’t been given the label of a ritual killer by the media.’
‘Oh, absolutely!’
‘Jarv is the Crime Scene Supervisor on this one so once she’s finished, which shouldn’t be that long now,’ he said looking at his watch, ‘she will be updating me. Do you want to be present for that? We can walk through the scene together and you’ll see the effort someone has gone to, to make us believe that this guy has taken his own life. We will be taking the two antique dental tools that we believe are from the set already in our possession to the mortuary with us for Martin Crossfield’s post-mortem later.’
‘Yes, that would be helpful but I can’t stop too long.’
‘You don’t want to come to the post-mortem?’
‘No,’ she said visibly shrinking back in her chair.
‘Feel free to wander around the incident room. The team will be very pleased to see someone of your rank taking an interest. Believe me it doesn’t happen often.’
ACC Smythe looked perplexed. ‘That’s only because in my experience Senior Investigating Officers are complex characters and take what are meant to be constructive comments by us personally.’
He smiled, ‘You can say what you want but in my experience you’ll find that most SIOs and CID officers are dedicated officers who spend most of their lives on the trail. Ask my wife Jen she’ll tell you.’
‘I might just do that. It would be interesting to see what her take is on the SIO’s role.’
‘One thing for sure she won’t pull any punches. She works here in the admin department and they have just been advised of major cuts.’
Killer Smile Page 26
