by Ted Tayler
“Is Brett seeing the Reverend home, Bert?” asked Gus.
“Her bicycle is outside my house,” said Bert. “The Reverend came calling for me this afternoon. She’s only just started doing that. Brett was out all day. I suppose she thought I could do with the company.”
“Brett told me he’d got a job interview next week,” said Gus.
“It would be good to see him settled,” said Bert.
“You never know,” said Suzie.
As they turned into the driveway, Gus had heard the Reverend’s bell ring twice on her bicycle as she made her way home.
Gus showered and dressed for work. As he stood in the kitchen deciding on breakfast, Suzie emerged from the bedroom.
“No fry-up for me this morning,” she said, “something healthy.”
“Your wish is my command,” said Gus, putting the bacon back in the fridge.
“Apart from getting Blessing to scour the internet, what else is on the list for today?” asked Suzie.
“Nothing for me,” said Gus. “I’ve got the team on a door-to-door, hoping to find the killer will admit everything as soon as they tackle them on their doorstep.”
“What was behind that idea?”
“Ursula walked into town several times a week for decades. We wondered whether it was someone she had a running battle with for ages. After years of provocation, that person snapped.”
“That sounds like the last throw of the dice, Gus. Last night you said you thought you were nearly there.”
“We are if we turn up the names of two posh kids with a penchant for playing noughts and crosses with a knife.”
Gus smacked the kitchen table with the palm of his hand. Suzie jumped.
“That’s not something we’ve investigated. We thought the girl might have left the bungalow with the jewellery, leaving the killer behind alone with his victim. We knew the approximate time of death. He could have tormented Ursula before stabbing her in the heart. The autopsy report said it seemed the killer continued to experiment with the body and that they played a game of noughts and crosses.”
“You didn’t realise the ambiguity in that statement?” said Suzie.
“I’m not making excuses, but the ACC and Geoff Mercer read the murder report before handing it over to me. They noticed nothing amiss. Jefferson and Kite wrapped up the investigation and put it into storage five years ago with no reference to both intruders staying with the body until the bitter end. The guy who did the autopsy may not even be around now to check. That’s my first job when I get to the office. I have to confirm whether anyone thought two different people did the cuts on the right arm. Or am I guilty of second-guessing every statement I read because I’m not as sharp as I once was? Why didn’t that hit me in the face as soon as I read it the first time?”
“Don’t beat yourself up. The coroner should have known better than to sign off on a report that left doubt. Imagine if they had got the case to court. Both defence counsels would have argued the other party was responsible for everything. The prosecution could never prove who did it beyond a reasonable doubt. Jefferson and his team dodged a bullet. If you can clarify that statement and find the killers, then Salisbury can finally get justice for Ursula Wakeley.”
“I love you,” said Gus. “I thought I was heading for a quiet day in the office, waiting for my team to return from pounding the streets. A conversation over the breakfast table throws up a clue that could be gold dust.”
“I love you too,” said Suzie, “although I’m not sure why it’s so valuable.”
“Blessing Umeh suggested these two were thrill-seekers.”
“Killers who derive immense satisfaction from the process of murder,” said Suzie. “The act of tracking their victim, rather than the killing itself. They crave the euphoric adrenaline rush provided by stalking and capturing their victim. These two went further though, didn’t they? They enjoyed the post mortem experience every bit as much. They must have killed again.”
“Five years have passed,” said Gus. “How many bodies are there out there?”
“And where do you start to look?”
“First, we find the two intruders, even if it means trekking to the summit of Machu Picchu. Then we seek help from the local police to identify potential victims.”
“I bet you never expected to get handed a case such as this when they tempted you out of retirement.”
Gus took Suzie in his arms. Suddenly, he felt exhausted.
“I never expected a lot of things,” he said.
“Any regrets?”
“Not one.”
CHAPTER 11
When he arrived at the Old Police Station office, Gus found the rest of the team were preparing for their version of the Long March. He sensed they weren’t looking forward to it, but it was time they learned how hard it was to be an officer on the beat. He’d had enough experience of it when he pounded the streets of Salisbury forty years ago.
“You’ve got a good day for it,” he said. “Have you decided on your pairings?”
“I’m with Blessing,” said Neil.
“We’ll play it by ear, guv,” said Luke. “If the homeowner responds better to Lydia, I’ll take a back seat and vice versa.”
“That works for me,” said Gus. “Who decides which questions you ask? Or were you going to wing it?”
“What do you recommend, guv,” asked Lydia.
“Be polite, convince them they’re doing you a huge favour, and speak to as many of them as you can before getting back here by half-past four.”
“Do we leave a note at places where we get no reply?” asked Blessing.
“Look, the chances are you won’t find someone who coughs to the murder within two minutes of opening the door. My guess is you’ll return with nothing, except further confirmation that Ursula was difficult to love. Whatever you do, don’t get bored and let your concentration drift. I guarantee somebody will give you a piece of information we’ve not heard before. Make sure you get that snippet of information and bring it back here this afternoon. Got it?”
“Yes, guv,” came the group response. They started to move towards the lift.
“Hold on,” said Gus. “In case you wonder whether I’ll be sat here with my feet up all day, I thought of something last night. When we got the murder file, the autopsy report intimated that after Ursula got struck on the head with that horse statue, the two intruders moved her into the bedroom. The timing of that wasn’t exact, but we assumed it was around ten o’clock.”
“I remember we stepped through the sequence of events, guv. There was no way we could tell when the drawers of the dressing table got rifled,” said Neil. “We wondered whether the girl left with the jewellery and wasn’t involved in the murder.”
“Neil argued that because they didn’t bring a weapon, the girl grabbed a kitchen knife to scare Ursula and hadn’t planned to murder her,” said Luke.
“It’s hard to imagine a woman taking part in what followed after Ursula got moved to the bedroom,” said Blessing. “We concluded the female left because it made sense if robbery was the reason for the break-in.”
“What if it wasn’t?” asked Lydia. “What if they worked together from start to finish? It doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“Suzie and I discussed the case last night. When I mentioned what you were doing today, she thought the door-to-door was the action of a desperate man. I replied without thinking that everything would be fine if we turned up the names of two posh kids with a penchant for playing noughts and crosses with a knife.”
“Well, it would,” said Neil. “So, what did that start you thinking?”
“Because the wording in the autopsy report suggested that the killer enjoyed playing with the body after death. The stab to the heart took place in the bedroom between ten and midnight. The cuts and slashes to Ursula’s torso could have occurred within minutes or over the next few hours. The report said, ‘they played noughts and crosses’ on the right arm.”
; “Oh, that’s gross,” said Lydia. “It was bad enough thinking a young man did that to her, but for both to stand over Ursula’s naked body handing the knife to one another and taking their turn in a children’s game is grotesque.”
“Blessing appears to have had the right idea,” said Gus. “This murder was planned and executed by two people who enjoyed the experience. No way will this be the only time they acted together. I’ll confirm with the coroner that different hands did the cuts and then spread the net across the country for further examples of their handiwork. If these two left to go on to college or university, my guess is they stayed close and continued to kill. They’re sick, and we must put a stop to their spree.”
The room fell silent.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Gus, “get out there and find someone who remembers Ursula crossing swords with two students or teenagers. I want those names. Forget the people we’ve already spoken to for now. I’ll run through the digital files to see whether there was anything in their statements we missed. Something we can use to narrow the search.”
“We need that data from the Hub, guv,” said Lydia. “We might get two hundred names, but it won’t take long to filter out those that don’t fit the new profile.”
Luke, Lydia, Neil, and Blessing headed for the lift. Gus got straight on the phone.
“Geoff Mercer speaking,”
“Geoff, it’s Gus. What was the name of the coroner who did the autopsy on Ursula Wakeley? The bloke I dealt with for years in Salisbury was Jimmy Calvert, but he was off sick for a few weeks over Christmas and into the New Year if I remember. Jimmy had a heavy dose of the flu that laid people low that winter.”
“They filled in with locums, I think. Let me check. Yes, Peter Morgan popped over to Salisbury for two weeks to cover Jimmy around that time. Did you look at the signature at the bottom?”
“I concentrated on the wording in the report,” said Gus, “and now I’m wondering whether I misinterpreted the comments. I’m just checking my copy of the murder file, and the signature isn’t clear. The bottom inch or two of print on the paper is faint.”
“Peter was there, Gus. Sorry, mate, you’ll have to give him a ring and hope he doesn’t tell you to take a hike.”
“Has he found another job yet?” asked Gus.
“He’s doing part-time work in Bath and North East Somerset,” said Geoff. “I’ve got a new contact number for him somewhere.”
Geoff found the number and passed it on. Gus updated Geoff on the current state of the case and then called Peter Morgan.
“Peter, it’s Gus Freeman. I need your help.”
“Oh, you must be kidding?”
“Lives are at stake, Peter. Don’t be a prat. When you went to Salisbury at New Year in 2013, you performed an autopsy on a seventy-eight-year-old spinster called Ursula Wakeley. A vicious stabbing and mutilation in Mere. Do you remember it?”
“I’m not likely to forget it,” said Morgan. “That bedroom was a set from a horror movie.”
“I don’t know what Mel Jefferson said to you, but he and Fabian Kite followed the robbery angle because of the missing jewellery. We now believe it was a planned killing from start to finish. In your report, you stated that the post mortem cutting looked as if the killer was having fun. What did you make of the cuts to the right arm in particular?”
“I think I know what you’re asking, Freeman, and I’m afraid I couldn’t be certain. As the cuts and slashes progressed down the body, they did become more confident and assured. The game of noughts and crosses was the work of a twisted mind, or minds. If there were two people in that bedroom with the victim after midnight, everything could have been a shared act. The only common thing was the blade. The assailant, or assailants, wore gloves and washed and wiped the knife before returning it to the kitchen drawer. It took me two hours to eliminate the other blades in that drawer, Freeman. The murder weapon had been buried deep.”
That put a different slant on things. Gus thought the girl had only taken part in the game.
“Why didn’t you mention this in the report?” asked Gus.
“I would have been guessing,” said Morgan. “It’s the same as determining which hand the killer used. My first thoughts were that the killer was right-handed. If you can now confirm two people were in the room for the duration, then if pressed I think the second person was left-handed. That would explain the nature of the wounds showing a dominant hand throughout.”
“If a killer switched from right to left, you expect to be able to tell, is that what you’re saying?”
“I’ve been doing this job for a long time, Freeman. I’ve carried out hundreds of autopsies. Mel Jefferson chose to concentrate on the jewellery theft and my thought processes on who did what to whom and when was never going to be of interest. So, I didn’t pursue them. I wasn’t sure of the chain of events, so I decided it was best to report the facts that I had solid evidence to support. Yes, I expect to see the difference between someone switching from their dominant hand. Several things change, depth and angle of cut, hesitation. None of that was present.”
“Does that suggest Ursula Wakeley wasn’t their first victim?” asked Gus.
“Ah, now that’s a tough one, Freeman. We didn’t have suspects in custody. They could have been frequent drug users with none of the inhibitions of a first-timer. The differences in the wounds would be marginal. Again, I would be guessing.”
“Thank you, Peter. You’ve been most helpful.”
“Class is permanent, Freeman. If you recognise it.”
Gus ended the call. Life was too short to argue with Peter Morgan.
Gus contacted London Road again and asked to get put through to the Hub.
“I need to speak with DS Alex Hardy. Is he available, please?”
Gus heard the phone get placed on the desk. Thirty seconds can feel a lifetime when you’re in a rush.
“Yes, guv, Alex here. What can I do for you?”
Gus told Alex to use the Hub facility to search for details of unsolved murders of older women, who lived alone, perhaps in remote locations since 2013.
“Method, guv?”
“Our victim died from a single stab wound, Alex,” said Gus. “but you’re looking for killers that enjoy stalking their prey. That’s a vital part of the experience. They tormented our victim or up to two hours before she died. Then they slashed and mutilated her naked body.”
“Was she raped?”
“There was no sexual element whatsoever, Alex,” said Gus.
“Leave it with me, guv. I’ll drop by the office before close of play tomorrow. I can update you on the progress I’ve made. I need to come there because I’m collecting Lydia. We’re spending the weekend searching for her father.”
“Fair enough. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. Oh, one more thing. If you do uncover similar cases, make a note of any health issues for the victims relating to their sight or their hearing.”
“Will do, guv,” said Alex.
Gus opened his copy of the Freeman Files. Time to review every conversation recorded in the murder file and the interviews they’d held this week.
Four weary travellers returned to the Old Police Station office at a quarter past four.
“Finished so soon?” asked Gus.
“We visited every conceivable house along the route, guv,” said Neil. “There were non-residential properties such as the Walnut Tree pub that we ignored. Was Ursula teetotal? Would she stand outside with a placard decrying the demon drink?”
“I think we might have heard before now, Neil,” said Gus.
“At least a third of them were at work, guv,” said Luke. “Or they ignored the bell because they realised who we were.”
“Forget the bad stuff, Luke. When do we get to the valuable snippets?”
“Neil and I spoke with a lady who visited the library often,” said Blessing. “She’s got a mobility scooter these days and only goes to the library once a week. She told us Ursula rowed with
two teenagers, maybe eighteen months before the murder. This Mrs Atkins was after a new release by a thriller writer, and she overheard the argument.”
“Was this in the library or the telecentre?” asked Gus.
“Library, guv. Ursula Wakeley told the kids they were sitting too close to one another and making too much noise.”
“What was their reaction?”
“The girl laughed in her face. The boy stood and towered over Ursula. He accused her of being jealous, not of the girl, but jealous of him.”
“How did Ursula respond to that?”
“She brandished her steel ruler, guv, and told them if they didn’t behave, she would have them thrown out.”
“Did Mrs Atkins recognise either of the youngsters?” asked Gus.
“She didn’t know their names, but they were only in the library during school holidays according to her.”
“Boarders,” said Gus, “at a school charging ten grand a term, I bet. That ties in with our posh kids' theory. Again we’re narrowing the field. When we get the Hub data, we’ll soon see who she meant.”
“Luke and I found someone to corroborate the incident outside the café, guv.”
“The kissing couple. Jenny Medcroft’s daughter, Mrs Burden, thought they were students, didn’t she? Did she mention when that was?”
“It was a year later than the library incident, guv,” said Neil.
“How old did Mrs Atkins think those two were,” asked Luke.
“Fourteen or fifteen,” said Blessing.
“Our kissing students could have been sixteen or seventeen,” said Gus. “I wonder if they were one and the same.”
“Two and the same, guv,” said Neil. “I’ll pop in and see if Becky Burden can give a description. We can run that by Mrs Atkins tomorrow.”
“The Hub data just appeared in my inbox, guv,” said Lydia.
“Don’t keep us in suspense, Lydia,” said Gus.
“There were two hundred and sixty-four people aged between fifteen and nineteen in the 2011 Census.”
