“What about sir?” Smith asked. “We’re actually very busy at the moment.”
“My office,” Smyth said, “as soon as the meeting is over.”
Smyth walked out of the room.
“What was that all about?” Whitton said.
“I’ve got no idea,” Smith said, “maybe Philips has been true to his word and filed a police harassment charge against me.”
“That’s not funny sir,” Whitton said, “Philips strikes me as the kind of man that could cause a lot of trouble.”
Chalmers stood up to indicate that the meeting had started.
“Good afternoon everybody,” he said, “Wilson, would you please close the door.”
One of the uniformed officers closed the door and sat down at the end of the table. Chalmers took out a plastic cigarette and placed it in his mouth.
“I don’t like this,” he began, “two murders in three days. I don’t like this one little bit. Young men in the prime of their lives with their throats cut open. Where do we start? Smith, what have you got? Welcome back by the way.”
“Thanks sir,” Smith said.
The room was filled with low murmuring as Smith stood up.
“Toby Philips,” Smith said, “and Drake Whitlow, both killed by having their throats slit open; Philips with a bread knife and Whitlow with a guitar string of all things. As far as we know there is nothing that connects them both. Philips was from all accounts a spoilt rich kid and Whitlow was quiet and reserved. At first it appeared that the pathologist Paul Johnson was responsible for the first murder but, as he so eloquently put it, this was down to an unfortunate series of events and he has now been released. It is clear that both murders were carried out by the same man.
“How can you be so sure Smith?” Thompson asked.
“Two young men killed in roughly the same way Thompson,” Smith said, “Ladybirds scattered all over both bodies. It’s the same man. The Ghoul is innocent.”
Thompson did not say anything further.
“Do we have anything at all to go on?” Chalmers asked. “What about the guitar student? The one who had a lesson with Drake Whitlow this morning?”
“Nothing sir,” Thompson said, “We drew a blank at the University. Me and Bridge went through the entire University records. There is nobody by the name of Joan Slyper at the University.”
“What about past students?” Whitton suggested.
“I thought about that,” Thompson said smugly, “we checked back over the past five years. There was still no record of a Joan Slyper.”
“Shit,” Smith said.
“What about Toby Philips’ father?” Chalmers said.
“Another dead end sir,” Smith said, “nasty piece of work but he was with a hooker the night his son was killed.”
“Hooker?” Thompson said.
“Whore, prostitute, call it what you want. Barry Philips was otherwise engaged.”
“So what now?” Chalmers said.
“Ladybirds,” Smith said. He looked at his watch. “Webber will be here shortly. He’s found an entomologist off the web. Maybe he can help us.”
“Entomologist?” Thompson said.
“Insect freak,” Bridge said, “I bet it’s a smelly old man with a thing for dung beetles.”
“He may be able to help us anyway Bridge,” Smith said.
“You’re obsessed with these ladybirds,” Thompson sneered.
“I believe they’re significant,” Smith said, “Ladybirds were found on both dead bodies. It has to mean something.”
“I think you’ve had too much time off,” Thompson said.
“I think you need some time off Thompson,” Smith said, “your brain doesn’t seem to be working too well at the moment.”
The tension in the room was broken by the door to the conference room opening. Grant Webber walked in the room. He was followed by a woman in her mid twenties. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a white T Shirt. She had a very athletic body. Everybody stared at her as she walked past. Her black hair was tied up in a tight pony tail but it was her face that captured everybody’s attention. She had high cheekbones, a full mouth and a very small nose. Her eyes were the most unusual blue colour. She would not look out of place on the cover of Sports Illustrated magazine.
“Everybody,” Webber broke the silence, “this is Karen Wood. Doctor Karen Wood. She is what you would call a bug expert. Now, if you would kindly put your tongues back in your mouths, let’s hear what she has to say about these ladybirds.”
Whitton shook her head. Bridge had gone a very bright red colour.
“Good afternoon everybody,” Karen Wood said. She had a voice that did not go with her face; it was very deep.
“My name is Doctor Wood,” she said, “but please call me Karen. I have a degree in entomology from the University of Durham. Mr Webber has brought me up to speed on this business with the ladybirds. I must be honest and admit that ladybirds are not my main field of expertise but I have done some research on the Coccinellidae genus.”
“Coccin what?” Bridge said. His face reddened even further.
“Coccinellidae,” she said, “Latin term for the family of ladybirds. Beautiful and fascinating insects.”
“Did you manage to find out if the ladybirds we found on the bodies came from the same place?” Smith asked.
“Straight to the point, I like that.” Karen smiled at Smith. She held his gaze for longer than seemed appropriate under the circumstances.
“Detective sergeant Smith,” he said. He broke the eye contact.
“Detective sergeant,” she said, “There are forty six different species of ladybird in the UK alone. The species are all very similar but it is possible to differentiate between the different families. Obviously we would need to do some more detailed analysis but on initial inspection it would appear that these ladybirds did indeed come from the same family of ladybirds.”
“There’s another thing I need to clear up,” Smith said, “We believe that somebody purposefully placed the ladybirds on the bodies. Is there any way they could have got there by themselves?”
“What do you mean?” Karen said.
“Could they have been attracted by the bodies in some way? Could they have been attracted by blood?”
“Absolutely not,” Karen said, “Ladybirds are carnivorous but their diet consists almost entirely of aphids.”
“Aphids?” Bridge said.
“Greenfly larvae. Ladybirds are actually extremely useful insects. One could even call them nature’s own pest control. They rid the crops of the aphids that destroy the harvest. Did you know that in California at the turn of the century, Australian ladybirds were introduced to rid a citrus farm of bugs? The ladybirds saved the whole farm.”
She smiled at Smith again.
“So what you’re saying,” Smith said, “that there’s nothing sinister about ladybirds at all?”
“That’s right,” Karen said, “in some cultures it’s even considered unlucky to kill a ladybird. They’re good insects. Like I said, they’re nature’s pest controllers.”
“That’s interesting,” Smith said.
“What’s interesting?” Karen said.
“Nothing, I was just thinking out loud.”
The room was silent for a moment.
“How would someone get hold of so many ladybirds?” Whitton asked.
Karen looked at her as if she has asked a stupid question.
“Any fool can breed them,” she said.
Whitton took an instant dislike to her.
“Breed them yourself?” Whitton said.
“Its not rocket science. You can get very simple kits off the internet. In a couple of weeks you could have hundreds of ladybirds.”
She shook her head and looked at Whitton.
“I think we can conclude there,” Chalmers said, “thank you Doctor Wood. I don’t know if any of what you’ve said will help but I’m sure we’re all a bit more clued up on what makes ladybirds tic
k. Where do we go from here Smith?”
Smith realised he did not know what to say. They had nothing to go on. All leads had been exhausted. There was a killer out there and they did not have any idea who it was or why he was doing this.
“The super wants to see me in his office sir,” Smith said as a diversion.
“What have you done this time Smith?” Thompson asked.
“I parked my car in his parking space Thompson. I don’t know what I’ve done. Maybe he just wants to welcome me back.”
“I doubt it,” Thompson said but Smith had already left the room.
Superintendant Smyth’s office door was open when Smith approached. He knocked and poked his head round the door.
“Come in Smith,” Smyth said. From the look on Smyth’s face Smith knew he was not merely welcoming him back to work.
“Grab a pew Smith,” Smyth said.
Smith sat down.
“What’s the problem sir?” Smith asked.
“I’m afraid we’ve had a serious allegation made against you detective,” Smyth said gravely, “one which we have to take very seriously. A case of police harassment has been opened against you.”
“Let me guess,” Smith said, “Barry Philips.”
“You don’t seem too surprised.”
“I’m not surprised at all sir. The man’s a brute. I wouldn’t be surprised if he beats his wife too.”
“Be that as it may, we have to take this very seriously.”
“I was just doing my job sir,” Smith insisted, “Whitton was with me; she’ll tell you what happened.”
“Of course we’ll be speaking to her too Smith. I just wanted to give you a heads up. Oh, and welcome back. What happened earlier in the year must have been terrible. It’s good to have you back again.”
Smith was taken aback.
“So I’m not suspended then sir?” he asked.
“Of course you’re not suspended,” Smyth said, “you may have some unorthodox ways of doing things but you seem to get results. I’m hoping this business will go away on its own but if it doesn’t I want to assure you that we’re behind you one hundred percent.”
“Thank you sir,” Smith said, “that’s nice to know.”
“That will be all Smith,” Smyth said.
Smith stood up and walked back down the corridor to the canteen. He could not believe the conversation he had just had with the superintendant. The super has changed since I’ve been away, he thought. Webber, Thompson and Whitton were sitting at a table by the window drinking coffee. Bridge was talking to Karen Wood by the coffee machine. She looked up when Smith walked in.
“Are you suspended again?” Thompson asked as Smith walked over, “one day back on the job and you get suspended. That must be a record even for you.”
“I’m not suspended Thompson,” Smith said, “The super has put my name forward for the Inspector post.”
Thompson went very pale.
“Just kidding Thompson,” Smith said.
Karen Wood approached him.
“Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” she asked him.
“No thanks,” Smith said, “that stuff tastes like crap.”
She laughed. Smith smiled at her. He could not help staring at her eyes. Whitton looked on in disgust.
“I hope I was of some help in there,” Karen said.
“I’m sure you were,” Smith said, “I just haven’t figured out how yet.”
“You’re funny for a police officer,” she said.
“I have my moments,” Smith said, “do you live in York?”
“I moved here six months ago. A messy divorce forced me here. What about you?”
“I’ve lived in York for years,” Smith said.
“I didn’t mean that. Surely you must be married?”
“No,” Smith said, “I’ve never been married.”
“Sir,” Whitton said, “can I have a word?”
“Speak Whitton,” Smith said.
“In private sir.”
Smith left the canteen. Whitton followed behind him.
“Why don’t you two just get a bloody room and be done with it,” Whitton said outside the canteen.
“Excuse me?” Smith could not believe what he was hearing.
“Are you that dumb sir? Can’t you see what’s happening?”
“Enlighten me please Whitton.”
“You’re so funny, surely you must be married? She was all over you in there.”
“Was she?”
“Don’t act stupid sir,” Whitton said, “besides, I don’t like her one little bit. There’s something not quite right about her.”
“What’s not quite right about her Whitton?” Smith said, “Is it the fact that she’s a doctor or is it her fit body and beautiful face? Don’t tell me you’re jealous Whitton?”
“I’m not jealous,” Whitton said, “there’s something weird about her that’s all.”
“Don’t worry Whitton,” Smith said, “I’m not about to run away with her.”
“Just be careful, that’s all. She’s bad news.”
“Thanks Whitton. Can I go now?”
Smith bumped into Chalmers in the corridor.
“Where do we go from here sir?” he asked.
“We all go home and get a good nights rest,” Chalmers said, “see if we can come up with anything new in the morning.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then sir,” Smith said.
“That insect woman was a bit of a looker wasn’t she?” Chalmers said, “if only I was twenty years younger.”
“Not my type sir,” Smith said.
He walked towards reception.
“You’re a bit of a rebel aren’t you?” Karen Wood was waiting for him by the door.
“Not at all,” Smith said.
“I’ve read all about you Jason Smith,” she said, “you don’t mind upsetting a few people to get results. I like that. Can I buy you a drink?”
“No thanks,” Smith said.
“Was it something I said?”
“No,” Smith replied, “I’ve spent the past two months drinking. I think I should try to keep a clear head for a while.”
“Fair enough,” she smiled, “can I buy you a coke then? I may have some information you might find interesting.”
“You don’t give up do you?” Smith said.
“Never,” she laughed.
“I suppose a couple of pints won’t hurt me,” Smith said, “I’m buying though; I know a nice quiet pub not far from here.”
He gave her the address of the pub.
“I’ll meet you there in an hour,” she said, “I have a few things I need to do first.”
EIGHT
The new batch of ladybird larvae were almost mature enough to release into the glass cage. She stared at them, transfixed. She could not believe the short time it took from egg to larvae to adult and then ultimately to death. For every mature ladybird she suffocated in the cage, however, she released one into the wild. It was for this reason that she always had at least ten breeding kits on the go at any one time. Twenty five larvae per kit with an eighty per cent success rate meant she would always have more than a hundred ladybirds on hand. There was still a long way to go. She tapped on the glass cage. Two ladybirds fell on to the mat at the bottom. They were dead. A wave of sadness engulfed her but it did not last long. Nature’s pest control, she thought; ridding the world of parasites. The extermination of the pests that are on this earth merely to cause pain and suffering. She picked up the book from the bed side table and started to read, this time from the very beginning. The words she read were optimistic and hopeful; a journey of life that was only just beginning. The tears welled up in her eyes and then the rage came. She watched as four more ladybirds dropped from the side of the glass and landed on the mat below.
NINE
Smith put the drinks down on the table in the corner of The Hog’s Head pub. The Hog’s Head was one of the few traditionally English pubs that were left in York. The o
wner, Marge, an old woman in her seventies had been like a grandmother to Smith for many years.
“So, Doctor Wood,” Smith said, “what makes a young woman want to study bugs? It’s hardly what you would call a glamorous occupation.”
“Can you remember at school,” she said, “there was always one kid that played with spiders and insects? That weirdo that everybody stayed away from?”
“Not really,” Smith said, “I grew up in Western Australia, if you played with bugs you were taking your life in your hands.”
Karen laughed. “Well I was that kid,” she said, “I’ve been fascinated with insects since I can remember.”
“I’m afraid I can’t see the attraction,” Smith said, “I’m definitely more of a dog person.”
He took a long sip of his beer.
“What about you detective sergeant. Did you always dream of being a police officer?”
“Not at all,” Smith said, “when I was a kid I wanted to be a surfer of course but when I got sent here I ended up studying law.”
“Law?” Karen said, “So how come you’re not one of those hot shot lawyers with a house by the river?”
“Long story,” Smith said, “after studying law, the police force seemed to be the next step in the natural progression. What was it you wanted to tell me?”
“What?” she said.
“You said you might have some more information regarding the investigation.”
“Did I? I think I may have made that up to get you to agree to have a drink with me.”
Smith could feel himself getting angry.
“I have to go,” he said. He finished the rest of his drink. “Can I call you a taxi?”
“I hope I haven’t offended you in any way,” she said.
“Not at all,” Smith said, “like I said, I need to keep a straight head. Do you need a lift home?”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, “thanks for the drink.”
She handed him her business card.
“In case you need any other help with the ladybirds,” she said, “or for any other reason.”
She smiled at him.
“Goodbye Doctor Wood,” Smith smiled back.
As Smith drove home he suddenly felt hungry. He realised he had not eaten anything all day. The beer he had had at The Hog’s Head had made him feel dizzy. He stopped at a pizza shop round the corner from his house. He remembered the last time he had eaten a pizza from the shop. They had delivered it to his house and he had discovered he did not have any money to pay for it. He had promised to pay for it the next day but the delivery man had not allowed it. Smith had been extremely drunk and the police were called. He very nearly had a charge of assaulting a police officer against him. Luckily DS Thompson had stepped in and calmed the situation. Smith could not remember if he ever did pay for the pizza.
The York Trilogy: The First 3 DS Jason Smith Detective novels Page 64
