by M A Comley
“Do you have CCTV cameras on the premises?”
Jack hit the side of his head with his fist. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He rushed out of the office, and Lorne heard boxes being moved in the room next door. “In here, if you want to take a look.”
Lorne and Katy marched up the corridor to find him.
“There. This was when Larry was locking up the shop. It was around ten o’clock.”
“Did he always leave so late?”
“No. We generally get away around six-thirty. Now and then he’d stay behind and do his accounts, he told Susie not to expect him home until late. Damn, I wish I’d stayed with him now. Maybe he’d still be alive.”
“Possibly. We’ll never know the answer to that. Can you recall anyone losing their temper with Larry over the past few weeks?”
“No, nothing along those lines. Maybe it’s because my mind is all over the place right now.”
Lorne produced a business card from her pocket. “You can ring me if you think of anything in the next day or so. There are only internal cameras, no external ones?”
“No, Larry said he couldn’t afford to fork out for them. Nothing much happens outside anyway. We usually keep the cars in the alley, and that’s about it.”
“I don’t remember seeing any cars parked out there today, or were they moved before we got here?”
I parked across the road. I panicked when I saw Larry lying there.”
“I see. What about Larry’s car?”
He covered his eyes with his right hand. “Damn, I never thought of that. I’m such a dickhead. Larry’s car isn’t here.”
Adrenaline pumped through Lorne’s veins. Something to go on at last. “What make is it?”
“An Audi Quattro. Black. I can give you the reg if that’ll help? What am I saying? Of course it will bloody help you.”
He reeled off the registration number, and Katy noted it down.
“Is there anything else you believe we should know about? What about takings? What happens to those at the end of the night?”
“Larry usually deposits them at the night safe a few days a week. He was due to do that last night.”
“Roughly how much takings are we talking about?”
“A couple of days’ money would equate to around twenty grand, I’m guessing. If I can find the accounts, I can give you a definitive answer.” He went back into the office and returned a few minutes later with a green accounts book in his hands. He tilted it towards Lorne for her to read for herself.
“Just over twenty-five thousand. So this could be a robbery after all.”
Katy shook her head slowly. “You’re forgetting the victim’s injuries.”
“Yep, only for a moment, thanks for the reminder.”
“Am I missing something?” Jack asked, his brow rippled with creases.
“We have an ongoing investigation we believe this could be related to,” Lorne explained.
“Whoa, are you saying Larry was killed by a serial killer?”
“Possibly. We won’t know that until the forensic team have completed their tasks. One last thing, we’ll need Larry’s address. That’ll be our next stop, to visit his wife.”
“Of course, want me to write it down for you?”
“If you could.”
Jack handed Lorne the details, and she and Katy left the shop and returned to the crime scene. Patti was standing alongside one of her team close to the large red Biffa wheelie bin. Lorne and Katy slipped back into the white suits and approached them.
“Looks like you’ve found something,” Lorne said.
Patti held up an evidence bag containing a large knife. “Matt found it in the bin.”
“Is it too much to ask if there are any prints on it?”
“I can’t see any. We’ll examine it thoroughly back at the lab. How did you get on?”
“Okay, if he hadn’t had a body part cut off, we would be going down a robbery gone wrong route.”
“Much money taken?”
“Twenty-five grand, give or take a couple of hundred.”
“Interesting.”
“You could say that. Right, we’re off. Get the reports to me on both victims ASAP, please, Patti.”
“I will. Good luck,” Patti called after them.
Back in the car while Katy drove, Lorne rang the station. “Graham, do me a favour and run a check on this reg: LAR69. It’s a black Audi Quattro belonging to a Larry Small. We believe the killer stole his vehicle. Katy and I are on the way to break the news to the wife now. Get back to me as soon as you locate it, will you?”
“Of course, boss. Leave it with me.”
Lorne ended the call and leaned back against the headrest.
Katy turned to face her briefly. “Are you all right?”
“Yep, just thinking. You know what this means, don’t you?”
“What?”
“The killer has a wad of money that would enable them to get away before we have a chance to track them down.”
“I was thinking along the same lines, unless…”
“Unless?”
Katy shrugged. “I’m just thinking about the frequency of the murders. What if the killer has an agenda, some form of list they’re working their way through?”
“You could be right. Let’s hope Graham can pick up the car off the ANPRs. It’s going to make our lives a lot easier. At the moment, we’ve got shit all to go on.”
“There’s the knife. Maybe that will turn up something.”
“I doubt it,” Lorne’s response was downbeat.
“Hey, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
Katy sighed. “Get downhearted. I know you’re coming up to retirement, but this is so unlike you. You’re the most positive person I know when dealing with shits like this.”
Lorne smiled. “I know. This feels different to me. Maybe it’s the abuse angle that’s getting me down. I don’t know.”
“Meaning what? That you’re empathising with the killer?”
Lorne faced Katy, who by the tone of her voice, sounded shocked by Lorne’s revelation. “I stated that I couldn’t put my finger on it. Blimey, it would take a lot for an abused woman to do what she’s doing, right? What if she is working her way down a list? That means that she was likely abused over and over by these men. How would you deal with that?”
“Jesus, Lorne, don’t put that on me. She’s murdered two people that we’re aware of. How many other bodies are lying out there waiting to be discovered?”
“We could say that about every victim we find, Katy, but we don’t. I don’t know what I’m trying to say here. Yes, I do. We could be dealing with a female perpetrator who is on the edge. You know as well as I do what that could mean.”
“Either she’s going to kill the men involved or kill herself.”
“Exactly. Our quandary is what we’re going to do about it.”
“We need to dig into each of the men’s past and see what comes up. There has to be something linking the two men. Who knows how many more bodies are going to show up? For all we know this could be the end of it.”
“You’re right, we’re clueless at this stage. Maybe the perp will take the money and run now. She’s taken Larry’s vehicle, maybe she has contacts willing to supply her false plates. That side of things would be easy enough to achieve, wouldn’t it?”
Katy let out a large breath. “I suppose so. The truth is, we don’t know when the likely abuse took place. Going by what Emma told us about Denis, he last abused her over ten years ago. Maybe he mended his ways since then.”
“Hmm…and Larry is married with two kids of his own, not that it means anything. He could have a sideline his wife doesn’t know about.”
“I admit this is a tough case that isn’t making much sense at the moment. Let’s see what Larry’s wife has to say about things, then get back to the station to do some brainstorming with the rest of the gang.”
“I agree.” Lorne fell silent, conte
mplating the killer’s motives and their possible agenda for the rest of the journey as she glanced out of the window.
Twenty minutes later, they parked in front of a detached house in a select street on the outskirts of the city. Lorne whistled when she studied the huge house. “The betting business obviously does well by the look of this place.”
“I think you could be spot on there,” Katy replied, getting out of the car.
They walked up the path to the house. The front garden was edged in low-clipped hedges. In the centre of the lawn, on each side of the path, was a flower bed brimming with a cascade of flowering shrubs and perennial plants. Lorne admired the planting and pondered if she’d have time to take up gardening when she retired. Possibly not, given that my intention is to rescue all the stray and needy dogs in the area. Retirement? What retirement?
“Hello, are you still with me, Lorne?”
She smiled at her partner. “Sorry, I was miles away.”
“No shit, Sherlock! I said, do you want me to handle this or do you want to take the lead?”
“I’ll do it.” She rang the bell, and they waited several seconds for the door to be answered.
A young blonde woman filled the doorway. She frowned when she saw them and closed the door slightly. “Yes, what do you want?” she demanded.
Lorne produced her ID and held it up for her to read. “Mrs Small? Would it be okay for us to come in?”
Her hand automatically flew up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, it’s Larry, isn’t it?”
Lorne nodded. “It would be better if we did this inside.”
The door eased open. The woman appeared dazed as she stepped back in the large hallway. Over in one corner was a grand oak staircase which had glass panels at the side instead of spindles.
“What is it? Is he in hospital? He didn’t come home last night. I’ve tried ringing him, but his phone went to voicemail all the time. Oh God!”
“Maybe we should speak about this in the lounge?” Lorne suggested.
The woman nodded and led them through the hallway into a large open-plan living room. The farthest end of the room was dominated by a white glossy kitchen with wooden worktops. The centre part of the room contained the dining area, housing a vast table and twelve chairs. Mrs Small sat on one of the four leather sofas in the lounge area.
She motioned for Katy and Lorne to sit opposite her. “Please, just get to the point. I need to know what’s happened to him.”
Inhaling a large breath, Lorne said, “It is with regret that I’m here to tell you that your husband died last night.”
Mrs Small let out a deafening scream and fell back on the sofa, her eyes wide until she covered them with her heavily jewelled hands.
Lorne and Katy glanced at each other and then back at the distraught woman. Lorne was in two minds whether to cross the room and sit next to Mrs Small or not. She hadn’t really come across as the warm fuzzy type.
They left her to cry for several minutes until she flew upright in her chair and demanded, “What happened? How did he die?”
“We’re not sure how the incident occurred just yet. Your husband was found behind his business premises this morning by one of his employees.”
“Oh my gosh, are you saying he’d been there all night, even while I was trying to ring him?”
“It looks that way. We’ve seen the CCTV footage. Apparently your husband left the shop around ten.”
“He rang me at eight-thirty, told me he was thinking of leaving soon, then he discovered another pile of receipts that he’d not accounted for. I presumed that he was working later to put everything in order. And all the time he was…dead. Oh, shit! What about the boys? They’re going to be mortified about this. What am I saying? I’m mortified. We had so many plans we wanted to fulfil in the future, and now…” Tears dragged the mascara down her cheeks. “How? How did it happen? Was it his heart? He’s been a little stressed lately. You know what it’s like when you’re self-employed and running a business. This damn uncertainty about Brexit isn’t bloody helping either. Our takings have halved in the last year or so. We’ve had to tighten our belts around here. This place is on the market. We’re going to have to downsize…”
“I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been having money troubles lately. Umm…sorry to have to inform you that your husband was murdered.”
“What?” Mrs Small screeched and then sobbed, rocking back and forth in her chair.
Lorne decided to approach her. The woman must have felt her sit beside her and flew into Lorne’s arms. It was several minutes later before she pulled away again and wiped her blackened eyes on a tissue.
“Are you all right? Maybe we should call a relative to come and be with you.”
“My family disowned me when I married Larry.”
That snippet of information piqued Lorne’s interest. “I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why?”
Mrs Small shrugged. “I don’t know. Actually, I do. They’re snobs, and Larry has a bit of a past.”
“Care to tell me what kind of past?”
“He was mixing with the wrong crowd at one time.”
“Doing what exactly?” Lorne pressed.
“He wouldn’t go into detail. Always told me that he regretted the things he’d done in the past and that he was eager to have children with me and to start afresh.”
“I see. How many children do you have?”
“Two boys, six and eight. He idolised them. Gave them the world. Oh my, I’m not sure what we’re going to do without him. Financially, I mean.”
“You’ll need to speak with his solicitor with regard to a will or see if he had a life insurance policy in place.”
“I’ll do that now,” she said, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, momentarily forgetting her grief.
Lorne resisted the urge to shake her head at the woman’s switch in character. It was clear Mrs Small was only concerned with the materialistic side of life and lacked any empathy for human life, her husband’s life. “If you wouldn’t mind waiting until we leave, I have a few more questions I’d like to ask you first.”
“Oh yes. How silly of me. I apologise, my mind is all over the place. What sort of questions?” She blew her nose on a fresh tissue.
“Perhaps you can tell us if Larry had any problems with anyone lately?”
She instantly shook her head, not bothering to take her time to consider the question. “Nope.”
“Going back to what you said earlier, about Larry’s past, perhaps you can give us a few names from the old days?”
“Nope. He never told me any. He didn’t even tell me what problems he had back then. I tried to get it out of him, but he clammed up every time I mentioned it. He told me he’d moved on and preferred not to live in the past.”
“Could one of his friends know the details?”
“He doesn’t have any friends. He said that’s the way he preferred it, just me and the boys. And now he’s gone, and I’m left alone with the boys. How the hell am I going to cope? Oh crap, does this mean I’ll have to run the business?”
Lorne hitched up her shoulders. “I’m presuming so. Maybe you could ask Jack to manage the place for you while you make the arrangements for your husband’s funeral.”
“What? I have to do that as well? Don’t the authorities do that in instances such as this?”
“No. It’s the responsibility of the family to bury their relatives, that’s the way people prefer it to be.” Lorne’s frustrations went up a notch.
“That will mean a lot of running around for me to do. Oh heck, I haven’t got a car, we had to sell it last month. But wait, what about Larry’s car? Was that at work?”
“No, we believe the perpetrator took it. My team are trying to locate it as we speak.”
“Well, I hope I get it back soon, not that it’s ours anyway, it’s on finance. The only thing that belongs to us is the number plate. I bought it for Larry a few years ago for a birthday present. I was in a dilemma; what d
o you buy a man who has everything? I knew he’d always wanted one. Cost me a packet, that did. I want it back ASAP, can you do that?”
“As I’ve already said, my team are trying to find it now. There’s also something else I should tell you.”
She frowned and stared at Lorne. “Go on.”
“Your husband left with the takings from the shop. Unfortunately, the bag holding the takings was missing from the crime scene.”
She gasped. “No! What a bastard, is that why he was killed?”
“Possibly. We’ve yet to determine what the motive is. We’re doing our best to find out, but it’s proving difficult.”
“Why?” Mrs Small asked angrily.
“Well, these things take time. We came here as soon as Jack gave us your address. However, in light of what you’ve shared with us today, we’re no further forward than when we left the crime scene. Does your husband have an office at home?”
“Yes, he has a study upstairs. Why?”
“Would it be possible to have a rummage in the office? Maybe we’ll find something in there that he was determined to keep from you with regard to his past.”
Mrs Small narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you need a warrant for that type of thing?”
“Ordinarily, yes. However, if you want to find out who did this to your husband, I’m asking that you work with us on this one.”
“Whatever. I don’t care about his past. All I’m interested in is what happens to me and my boys now that he’s dead. I know I’m going to struggle. Can’t you give me some guidance? Put me in touch with someone who can tell me what to do next?”
“It’s not our responsibility to do that, to be honest. Our role is to investigate the murder and try to bring the perpetrator to justice as swiftly as possible.”
“But I’m lost. I don’t know how to move forward,” Mrs Small whined.
Lorne saw Katy get her mobile out of her pocket and tap the screen. “I have the number for the Citizens Advice Bureau for you. I’m sure they’ll help you if your solicitor can’t.”
“Can you write that down for me? Thanks, I appreciate it.”
Katy scribbled the number down, tore off the sheet and handed it to the woman.
Lorne stood and walked towards the door. “Can you tell me where the study is?”
