The Anita Waller Collection

by Anita Waller

  Roberts was searching through the contents of the wallet. ‘He lives in the penthouse, then?’

  ‘Yes, I understand it has its own private lift. He’s no keys on him, so don’t know how you’ll get in.’

  ‘Right, come on you two,’ Roberts said to Craig and Heather. ‘Let’s go and see what we can find out. Let’s find this bloody lift for a start.’

  The foyer was massive, with two lifts to service the lower flats, and one lift in the corner for servicing the penthouse. They went in it, and it rose at some speed. It stopped on the penthouse level, with hardly a sound or a movement, and they left it to walk on one of the thickest carpets Heather had ever seen.

  ‘Pure bloody luxury,’ she whispered.

  Craig pointed to a door, the only visible one. ‘How we going to get in that without a key?’

  ‘If it’s locked, we’ll send for a locksmith.’

  He handed out gloves and shoe coverings to Craig and Heather, then put on his own.

  The door handle was round, made of brass so shiny, it cast a reflected glow, and sleekly smooth as it turned, resulting in the door swinging silently towards the interior of the penthouse.

  ‘Unlocked,’ Roberts murmured. ‘Why? A visitor?’

  The room they had entered was a large hallway; they crossed it and went into what appeared to be an office.

  ‘Heather, check the desk. See if there’s anything… unusual on it.’ She moved around to where the chair was, a heavy leather contraption built to take extra weight, and sat down. She saw the baseball bat immediately and pulled it out to show Roberts.

  ‘Well prepared,’ she said, and placed it back in the same place. There was very little on the desk, and it didn’t take her long to rule out anything that would help with the investigation, except for maybe a list of names and addresses, with all the addresses being in the locality of their own police station. All four of the drawers were locked.

  She felt around on the underside of the desk top and found a small hook, with keys hanging from it. The third one fit the drawers, and she looked in the top one. It contained several brown envelopes, three with five thousand in each, two with ten thousand in, and one with twenty thousand in. She wondered what the recipient of the twenty thousand envelope had to do to get that amount. The other drawers contained ledgers, journals, all sorts of books with handwriting in. She stacked them up; they had to go to the station, where they could be inspected properly. She put the list of names inside an evidence bag and left it on top of the books, then used her mobile phone to take a picture of it.

  Roberts and Craig went through the rest of the flat. Roberts bagged up the empty glass from the coffee table, then carefully sealed the glass containing the whisky inside another bag. He placed them both back on the coffee table, ready for when forensics could come in and do their work. The patio doors leading to the balcony were wide open, and both of them moved outside. A chair was on its side, the other chair neatly placed by the small patio table.

  ‘So, Mr Grausohn, did you stand on this chair and then jump? Or were you helped over the balcony by someone who obligingly put this chair here, thinking to fool us?’

  Roberts’ phone rang, and he saw Ray Sandler’s name on the screen. ‘Ray?’

  ‘We’re going to try to move the body. Are you ready for the lads up there? I’m assuming you got in, as you haven’t come back down.’

  ‘Yes, send them up. The door was unlocked. I’ve bagged up two glasses. One is empty, the other has a liquid in it. I thought we should maybe verify what it is, in case anything’s been added that might make our victim believe he could fly.’

  ‘Will do. I need to head back, but Colin, my second-in-command, will be in charge up there. Liaise with him, if you need anything. And try not to find me any more bodies. I’ve got a proper backlog.’

  Roberts smiled as he disconnected.

  Within a couple of minutes, Ray Sanders’ colleague Colin arrived, carrying equipment that must have taken up most of the lift space. Roberts showed him the two glasses, and the overturned chair, and Colin instructed one of his team to start taking photographs of everything.

  It was in the middle of all this mayhem that Gerda arrived home, well satisfied with the two hundred and fifty pounds bingo win. She was stopped in the foyer, prevented from using the lift to take her to her home.

  ‘But I bloody live there!’ she screamed. ‘And what has happened to Mr Grausohn?’

  A female PC attempted to calm her down but to no avail. She was incandescent that she was being prevented from returning to the penthouse and didn’t believe them when they said he had jumped from the balcony.

  ‘My Mr Grausohn would not jump. Why would he? He didn’t need to die. No, you must look closer at this, somebody has killed him.’ The more adamant she became, the stronger her German accent grew.

  Roberts and his team appeared in the foyer to see Gerda pushing the PC to one side. ‘Oy!’ he shouted. ‘What are you doing?’

  Gerda turned to him, tears evident in her eyes. ‘She won’t let me go home, and she says my Mr Grausohn is dead.’

  ‘Please, come and sit over here.’ He led her to a settee, and they sat together.

  ‘Now, tell me your name.’ He took out his notebook.

  ‘I am Gerda Bauer, Mr Grausohn’s housekeeper.’

  ‘And you’ve been out?’

  ‘Yes, I go to bingo most nights. Mr Grausohn likes me to go out. He sometimes has business to conduct in the evening.’

  ‘Had Mr Grausohn been depressed recently?’

  She gave a small laugh. ‘No. He was annoyed about something, but depressed? No.’

  ‘Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight? You won’t be able to get back into the penthouse until we’re finished in there.’

  ‘Yes, I have a friend…’

  ‘Then, please call them and make the arrangements. I will need to speak to you tomorrow, so I’d like your telephone number and friend’s address please.’

  She took out her mobile phone, navigated it and read out the number it showed on the screen as being hers.

  He smiled. ‘You don’t know your number?’

  ‘No. Why should I? I hardly ever use the phone, and I never ring myself.’

  ‘Then, can you use it now and ring your friend? I can have someone take you, or we can call a cab.’

  She looked at him, her face like thunder. ‘I will ring,’ she said. She dictated her friend’s address reluctantly.

  It appeared that the woman would collect her, and ten minutes later, Gerda had gone, clutching a piece of paper with an appointment time for the following day for her to visit the station to give a statement. She had forgotten about her bingo win.

  He was watching her leave when his mobile phone rang. It was Brian, and Roberts hoped his sergeant was now at home. It had been a long day for all of them.

  ‘Brian? You finished?’

  ‘We have, Dave. We found them, the knickers. White ones. Heather was right about that. But we found something else in the locality of the body. A couple of letters, still showing an address. Only junk mail, but it shows where this rubbish came from. Didn’t you say you were attending a suicide at Cardale Apartments?’

  ‘Don’t tell me that’s the address. Everything over the last few bloody weeks seems conjoined. I’ll follow that address up tomorrow, then. It does look like he jumped, but there’s something going on in this penthouse. It’ll bear a closer inspection, I think. We’ll seal it off tonight and come back tomorrow. Forensics are just finishing. Now, get off home, if you think you’ve got everything you can. Is Mr Danbury still there?’

  He laughed. ‘Yes, he says it’s one of the best evenings he’s had. There’s never been so much activity in the ERF before. And he’s kept us supplied with tea.’

  ‘Then make sure you thank him; we might need to go back,’ Roberts said with a laugh. ‘You and whoever else is there finish up. You get off home and send the others to the station. I’m assuming they’re night sh
ift?’

  ‘They are. Good lads. We got a lot done. I’m bagging stuff up that we’ve pulled out and bringing it to the station with me. There’s not a lot, but I’ve put the knickers in an evidence bag.’

  ‘Thanks, Brian.’ Roberts disconnected.

  They loaded the journals removed from the drawer into the car, and Heather hung on to the evidence bag containing the list of names and addresses. She glanced through it, taking advantage of not having to drive. She knew all of the addresses mentioned and decided the following morning would be her time to do a little desk work. She’d follow up on the information.

  Roberts drove back to the station, sent Craig and Heather home, then carried the books and the list of addresses up to his own office. He smiled as he remembered Heather’s insistence that she wanted to check the addresses. She was a good copper.

  He sat down for a moment, then rang his wife. ‘Tell me you love me,’ he said.

  ‘I love you,’ Erica Roberts responded, ‘very much. Bad day?’

  ‘Awful day. Two deaths, frightened kids, over-tired officers working too many bloody hours…’

  ‘Come home,’ Erica said. ‘I’ll make you feel better.’

  And she did.

  Chapter 22

  Kenny and Carl didn’t speak on the journey back to Kenny’s home. They took as many back streets as possible, and as they pulled onto the drive, Billy opened the door for them.

  He raised his eyebrows in query, and Kenny nodded.

  ‘Done.’

  Billy handed them both a whisky, and Carl downed it in one, then coughed as the fiery liquid hit the back of his throat.

  ‘I needed that,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe what we’ve done.’

  ‘It had to happen,’ Billy said slowly. ‘He was a truly evil man. We couldn’t let him get to any of those children.’

  ‘I know you’re right,’ Carl said, ‘but, remember, I’ve never played up there with the big boys. I’ve collected debts for him, delivered a few packets, nothing major. Suddenly, I’m a killer, and I’ve killed the boss. Doesn’t get any bigger.’

  ‘The first time you kill is the hardest, but after that…’ Kenny spoke slowly. ‘We’re out of it now, Carl. Stay out of it. Look after your lad and Aileen and forget all this.’

  ‘I’m heading home. I’ve been away over an hour. I need to be in that house as soon as possible.’ He shook both their hands and left them having a second drink.

  His drive home was nerve-wracking. It would only take a small accident, a flash of a speed camera, and his alibi would be gone. He drove carefully, while his mind was screaming “put your foot down.”

  Aileen cried as he entered the room. ‘Oh my God, you’re home,’ she said, and walked into his arms.

  ‘Hey, stop crying. It went well.’

  ‘He’s…?’

  Carl nodded, kissing the top of her head. ‘He is. I don’t really want to talk about it, but he’s gone. I have to leave here, though. As soon as word gets around that Grausohn is dead, somebody will muscle in, and I don’t want my name bandied about. And I’ll have to go quickly. Next week.’

  He felt her stiffen. ‘I’ll miss you. I’ll miss Daryl. And what about Daryl’s friends?’

  Carl lifted her face to his. ‘Then, come with me. Think about it. We’ll be going by the end of next week, I’ve got to move fast. Don’t mention anything to Daryl, yet. Promise me you’ll think about it.’

  ‘We’ve got two funerals next week…’ Her voice faltered as she spoke.

  ‘That’s Monday and Tuesday. We can have left all this behind by Thursday. Start again. It’s why tonight happened.’

  ‘Give me time,’ Aileen said. ‘It’s a massive thing for me.’

  She pushed him away and walked through to the kitchen. Her cup of tea was still on the table, and she drank deeply, her thoughts chaotic. How many times had she vowed no more permanent men? It seemed a pretty permanent statement to move away with a man, start a new life.

  She heard him go upstairs, heard Daryl’s door open and then gently close as he checked on his son, and she laid her head on her arms.

  She didn’t like decisions. Decisions were hard work. She usually put them off for as long as possible, but that wasn’t going to happen here.

  So much to think about; she knew Daryl would be devastated to leave his friends. If she went with Carl and Daryl, she maybe could help soften that blow for the boy, but was that a good enough reason to uproot herself from Sheffield and move away? And what if it all went pear-shaped in the future, and the police came for Carl? He had committed murder, alibi or no alibi.

  And how did she feel about Carl? Although she’d known him from a distance for quite a long time, she’d only had close contact with him for a couple of weeks. Did she feel she could trust him? She’d once trusted another man, Vinnie’s dad, and look how that had progressed. Backwards.

  She heard Carl come into the kitchen. ‘Where would we go? I mean, supposing I said I’d go with you. I need some answers first.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘I’m going to tell you something now that nobody else knows. Not Daryl, not Kenny, not even Megan when she was here.’

  She waited, knowing this face was his trustworthy one.

  ‘I did a big collection job for the boss some time ago. He paid me well. I bought a mobile home, with the intention of it being an escape if ever I needed one. It’s in Lincolnshire, on a lakeside site. I fish, so it was perfect for me. You have to remember, I was shut out from my family. Since Megan died, this is the closest I’ve ever been to Daryl, and I’ve had a lot to learn. She knew what I did and didn’t want Daryl to have anything to do with me. She was happy with the money I gave her, but not happy with me. So, that’s where me and Daryl will be going, and I’d really like it if you came with us. In a year or so, if things are quiet, I’ll put this place up for sale, and we can go wherever we want, then. No commitment ever, Aileen, you can walk away whenever you want. I know you’re scared.’

  ‘Fucking petrified. Do you know what Vinnie’s dad did to me? Never had more than a one-night stand since. And now, you’re here, and that lovely lad of yours. That man beat me up so badly because I refused to have an abortion that he put me in hospital for a month. Vinnie was born during that month because my body couldn’t keep him inside me any longer, and he was two pounds three ounces; tiny, tiny baby. But he survived, and I survived. Couldn’t have any more children, but I lived through all the pain, the nightmares, wondering if my baby would live. So, you see why I have to think everything through.’

  Carl pulled her to her feet and hugged her. ‘Take as much time as you need. Daryl and I will be going next Thursday, because I think we have to. I can’t put him in danger. If you don’t feel you can come with us then, you can come whenever you feel ready. Honestly, Aileen, there’s no pressure at all. Hang on to your home as a bolthole, sell it – it really doesn’t matter. We’ve enough money to live on until we need to make decisions.’

  Roberts woke early. He needed answers, lots of them, and they all involved results from pathology. He had to start hounding people; too many had died, and he knew they were connected.

  He was in his office by seven, checking on what had been logged in already, trying to find out what he could justifiably demand, given the short timescale from the previous afternoon and evening.

  He needed identification of the woman – no bag had been found, just the very skimpy white panties. By finding her body, he hoped that something would show up as transference between her and Vinnie Walmsley. She clearly had dirt on her knees after following Vinnie into the woods, so unless she had showered before being killed, that should still be discoverable. Roberts knew she had killed him, but proving it was another matter; he couldn’t write it off as solved on a gut feeling.

  Ray Sandler rang him at eight o’clock. ‘Can you come down here?’

  ‘You’ve got something?’

  ‘On Grausohn. I need you to see something.’

  Inwardly
, he groaned. Grausohn had to be suicide, the toppled chair indicative of a leap into the unknown, the momentum of the forward falling body pushing the furniture over. And suicide wasn’t his priority in a case riddled with murders.

  ‘Okay. Five minutes.’

  The body, stripped of its clothes, was huge; a massive whale-like structure lying on the table. There was significant damage to the head, and he tried to avoid looking at that. Maybe that damage was what was concerning Sandler – had he suffered head trauma before going over that balcony?

  He was surprised when Sandler moved towards Grausohn’s legs. They were already placed in stirrups, and Sandler hoisted them up so that they could see the underside easier.

  ‘Look here,’ he said. ‘There were clearly visible bruises on each leg, and Sandler placed his own hands on one leg, indicating what the bruises represented.

  ‘Two hands, around each leg above the back of the knee. That’s four hands in total, Dave, and that means two men helped him over that balcony. Sorry, pal, this isn’t a suicide. It’s murder.’

  Add it to the fucking list, Roberts thought angrily.

  He stared at the bruising and knew Ray Sandler was right. The hand marks were obvious.

  Roberts sighed, feeling frustrated. He’d like to solve at least one murder, before having another thrown at him.

  Sandler was lowering the stirrups and removing the legs so that Grausohn was once again flat on the table.

  ‘And all this damage to the head?’

  ‘I’ve looked at it carefully. It’s consistent with a fall – in other words, he wasn’t attacked while he was on the balcony, I think he was there with somebody he knew. Of one thing I am sure, one person, unless he was called Iron Man, could not have lifted him over that balcony. It would definitely take a minimum of two.’

  ‘Thanks, Ray. There were two glasses on that coffee table. Hopefully, we’ll get something from them.’