by L M Krier
He was left with Jo, Rob, Jezza, Megan, Steve and himself. He succinctly reported all the information they had discovered from interviewing the family, with particular emphasis on what Jason had told him.
'That confirms what I'm discovering so far,' Océane piped up from her work station, still not taking her eyes off the screen. 'I'll have more for you shortly, but there are certainly plenty of dating sites and more than one casual bunk-up app.'
'Thanks, Océane. Which brings us to the possibility that Mr Waters may have been killed as a result of his lifestyle. I don't like to think of a possible female killer, with anything as horrific as that but…'
'Not just women, boss,' Océane chimed in. 'At least one of the apps is decidedly AC/DC. Looks like he may have taken what he could get, where he could get it.'
Ted shook his head in disbelief. Whenever he thought he had plumbed the depths of human depravity, something else would come up to prove him wrong.
Jezza surprised them all by starting to sing, a crooning sort of song.
'Do you remember, when we met, that's the day, I knew you were my pet …'
'Jezza? Something you want to share with us?' Ted asked.
'Sea of Love, boss. Brilliant film. Al Pacino and Ellen Barkin. Blokes on the dating scene are getting their brains blown out so Pacino goes undercover. It turns out to be the jealous ex-husband of one of the women, picking off men who've dated her.'
'A jealous husband is a possibility,' Ted conceded. 'Océane, is there anything on there yet about where Waters was fixing up meetings? Anything which could have been intercepted by the husband, or partner, of whoever he was arranging to meet?'
'Plenty of steamy stuff here all right, and details of meet-ups. When I find the ones for his time up here, I'll print that off first and circulate it.'
Ted caught sight of Steve's wistful look and wasn't sure which he was missing the most, being at his computer, or being in close proximity to Océane. He was certainly gazing with cow eyes at both.
'What about the older son, boss? Jason?' Megan asked. 'Do you like him for a suspect? After all, on his own admission, he hated his father and was used to checking his phone and laptop to find out what he was up to.'
'One hell of a bluff, him offering me all that information, though,' Ted replied. 'He could easily have said nothing, then later denied all knowledge of what his dad had been up to. But we should certainly look into it. Let's get someone round to where they're staying and at least check out his shoe size, for a start. Megan, can you go, while they already know you? Can you also ask for an up to date photo of the victim. I'm guessing the ones on these sites might not be all that accurate.
'We also need to find out how feasible it would be for Jason to have got up here from Southampton by public transport, as his mother said he doesn't have a car. Unless, of course, he had help from someone. Perhaps we need to find out more about this Uncle Laurie he mentioned. Brother, or brother-in-law of the deceased? If he knew what our man was up to, did he do something about it?'
'About four hours by train, direct, just over nine on a coach, one change.' Océane again. She seemed to have the ability to tune out what they were talking about and get on with her work, whilst at the same time hearing any bits that needed quick information from the computer she was working on. Ted was impressed. Steve was almost drooling.
'Anything on Waters' car yet?' Ted asked.
'Nothing yet, boss,' Rob told him. 'We're still waiting on forensics. In particular, we're waiting to hear if the owner of the blonde hair was ever in the car. In other words, did he go out and pick someone up in his car to take back to the hotel.'
'And anything from other guests at the hotel?'
Rob shook his head. 'No one admits to seeing or hearing anything. The others are out chasing up a few we've not spoken to so far, and pinning down the rest of the staff who've not yet been interviewed.'
'Right, let's get on with what we have got. We need that recent photo of him, so we can start showing it around, try to find out where he went, where he ate out, if he did. Anything like that.'
'Sir, I've printed a photo off from one of his dating site profiles as a starter,' Steve told him. 'But you're right, it may not be genuine.'
'I've just checked it. Definitely edited and enhanced, so you'll need a genuine one,' Océane confirmed.
'Good work,' Ted nodded his satisfaction. 'Now, before I forget, let's get together in The Grapes at close of play tomorrow. All of you. Jo, Megan, Océane, you too. It's a bit of a tradition. We go there from time to time, for a get-together, a bit of a morale boost. First round is always on me. Steve, make sure Maurice knows to come and join us. And the Big Boss is coming over. He wants to meet the new team members and see the rest of you again.'
There was a pause, then Jezza voiced what the rest of them were thinking. 'Er, boss, you are the Big Boss now.'
Ted smiled in embarrassment. 'I suppose I am. I'll just never get used to me being the Big anything.'
Chapter Seven
Océane clearly knew her stuff. Before much longer, she came to find Ted in his office, tapping on the door before going in and sitting down in response to his invitation.
'Right, there's still a long way to go, but I do have the names and email addresses of the women he'd arranged to meet up with while he was in Stockport,' she began, putting a few printed sheets on his desk. 'The email addresses don't help us much at the moment. I'll explain why.'
'That's excellent, thank you. How are you settling in? I hope the team are all making you welcome?'
'So far, so good. Your Steve is very bright. He can do most, but not all, of what I can do,' she told him.
'I imagine he can, but we also need to prise him away from his computer a bit and get him out there, to scenes of crime,' Ted replied. 'He's got the makings of a good officer. He just needs more experience in the field. That's where you come in. Free him up a bit by doing the computer work.'
'I'll have a lot more for you later in the day, but this is just for starters, to give you something to go on. Your Mr Waters was a dirty dog. He'd set up meetings with three different women on Monday evening, half an hour apart, in two different pubs. And that was just day one. The detection bit is not my remit but my intuition suggests he invites three then goes off with the one he fancies the most and who is up for it.'
Ted nodded. It seemed likely enough. 'So have you any way of tracing who these women are for us? I take it we'll need court orders for things like their email provider or whatever, to disclose details to us?'
'Yes, for their ISPs. Internet Service Providers,' she clarified, to make sure he understood. 'The trouble is it's not quite as simple as that. To ask an ISP for records, we first need evidence of illegal activity. And as far as I know, the kind of messages we're talking about here are not illegal. However, I thought that with the timings and venues, you could at least be making a start on tracing where your victim went. Although I imagine the ones for the next day will be irrelevant, as he never met them? Just give me a bit longer though, I have a cunning plan.'
Ted liked the way she grinned at him when she said it. It was infectious. He couldn't help but return it. He asked her to expand on her plan.
'Well, some people are incredibly naïve and not at all Internet savvy.'
Ted held up a hand. 'That would be me, for one,' he said sheepishly.
'I'm guessing you don't know much about social media, then?' When Ted shook his head, she continued. 'Facebook, in particular, wants people to use their real names on there. Many people, for one reason or another, like to use a nickname, something other than their own name. But Facebook periodically have clamp-downs and insist on proof that the name someone uses is their own.
'Just on the off-chance, I started searches on the names these three women gave in their emails. Well, two of them. One just goes by 'Snookybunnyface'. I got lucky with one of them. Anne Forfar. Facebook obligingly found me the profile of an Anne Forfar, who comes originally from Scotland.
It wasn't too much of a quantum leap from there to find an Anne Angus who lives right here in Stockport.'
Seeing Ted's querying look, she continued, 'Forfar is a town in Angus. It was an educated guess, worth trying a search on, and it paid off. They always say the best cover story is as close as possible to the truth. I have the address for you, from the electoral register. It's one coincidence too many for it not to be worth your time to at least go and talk to her, don't you think?'
'Very definitely, I think,' Ted said, looking admiringly at his new team member. 'Can you make my day complete by telling me she has long blonde hair in her profile picture?'
'I'm afraid not, boss,' she laughed. 'Her avatar is a rather cute-looking Shih Tzu puppy, with a sparkly bow in its hair.'
'Ah well. Still, this is a great start, Océane, thanks for that.'
'Oh, Steve could have done most of that for you. So now I'd better go and do some really clever stuff that he doesn't know how to do, to justify my place on the team. Oh, and another thing. Your Mr Waters wasn't using that name for his online antics. He was calling himself Duncan Allen. He had a separate email in that name.'
She rose and went out of the office, Ted not far behind. He looked around the main office to see who was available.
'Jezza, can you come with me, please? We have a possible name for someone who may have met up with Duncan Waters on Monday evening. Are you at a point where you can break off?'
She looked at the substantial heap of paperwork on her desk. Ted could see that she was wading through witness statements taken so far from guests and staff at the hotel.
'Desk-bound with this lot, or a trip out into the real world and the fresh air?' she mused aloud. 'I'm in, boss. Your car or mine?'
He opted for Jezza's Golf, pleased that she had, after all, decided to keep the vehicle in which she had been abducted and assaulted. He knew she was tough, but he was still impressed with how well she seemed to be recovering from the ordeal. He'd persuaded her to start seeing the same therapist he went to for counselling, knowing how much she could help.
They were heading for an address in Woodsmoor. The house in question turned out to be a well-presented semi in a quiet residential road. As they parked and went into the driveway, Ted could see a small dog barking at them from the windowsill of the front room.
'Is that one of those Shih Tzu things? And do they bite?' he asked Jezza.
Jezza laughed at him. 'It's one of those Tibetan types, boss. I don't really know the difference with those breeds. And what's it going to do? Savage your ankle?'
Ted rang the doorbell as they both took out their warrant cards and held them ready. The bell was a fancy one which played Westminster chimes, slowly and ostentatiously, immediately setting off a further frenzy of yapping from the small dog which, from the sound of it, had now rushed to the door and was lying in wait for intruders.
They heard a woman's voice, inside the house, remonstrating with it. 'Doodle! Doodle, you naughty boy, stop that noise at once. Go in your basket. Basket, Doodle.'
Doodle clearly had other ideas because, when the woman opened the door, she had the wriggling and still vocal small dog tucked firmly under one arm.
'Anne Angus?' Ted asked. 'I'm Detective Chief Inspector Darling, this is Detective Constable Vine. I wondered if we might just have a few moments of your time, in connection with a routine enquiry, please?'
She looked in bemusement from one to the other. Police officers turning up unannounced on her doorstep was obviously a new experience. The little dog redoubled its struggles, obviously keen to get at the newcomers, but whether in friendship or fury, Ted was unable to tell.
'Yes, I'm sorry, of course, do please come in. Please go into the front room. I'll just go and pop Doodle in his basket. He's very friendly but he does like to climb all over people. And he can sometimes get rather frisky with men's legs. Please go in.'
Jezza was clearly having difficulty in not laughing, seeing the look on the boss's face. The two of them went into an obsessively neat and tidy room. There was not so much as a crease in any of the cushions. They both stood waiting for an invitation to sit down.
The woman bustled back into the room, minus the small dog, one hand unconsciously tidying her hair. Ted noticed it was blonde, though probably not naturally so, in a wavy style which finished just below her jawline. She was small, slim and not unattractive, probably in her early forties.
'Do please sit down. May I offer you something to drink? Some tea, perhaps? And how can I help you?'
They both sat down on the sofa, perching on the edge, rendered uncomfortable by how immaculate everything seemed. The woman sat in an armchair near the old chimney breast, now open and containing an artfully arranged tall copper vase of fresh flowers.
'Nothing to drink, thank you, it's just a quick call. Is it Mrs Angus?' Ted asked and, when she nodded briefly, he continued, 'I understand that you have recently been in contact with a man calling himself Duncan Allen.'
One hand flew to her face and she looked shocked, her cheeks colouring. 'How did you know…?'
Ted skirted the question and continued. 'I believe that you may have met with Mr Allen, in Stockport, on Monday evening. Is that so, Mrs Angus?'
'That was the plan,' she said, through pursed lips. 'I've been divorced for some years. I've been optimistically looking for Mr Right, using various dating sites online which seemed respectable enough.'
'Tell me about Duncan Allen,' Ted said encouragingly.
Her expression turned bitter. 'Well, I'll never know if he was Mr Right or not. He simply never turned up, and never sent word. We arranged to meet at that pub near the market place, the one which does good food, at six-thirty on Monday. He apologised for it being rather early but said he had a client to meet later that evening. He suggested we meet for a drink and, if we found we got on, have something to eat together. I wouldn't normally go in a pub by myself but it seems to be quite respectable there.
'I went and sat there like a fool for more than half an hour, waiting for him to show, but he just stood me up. He'd given me a mobile number to call if I couldn't make it for any reason but it just when straight to voicemail when I tried it. I sent a few texts and then a few emails but there was nothing from him in reply.
'I was really disappointed. He had seemed so nice in our email exchanges. I was looking forward to meeting him. He always asked after Doodle and was very interested in him.'
'What did he tell you about himself?'
She sighed. 'He sounded ideal. He said he was a widower, no children. He claimed to love small dogs, but not to be able to have one because his job took him away a lot. He said he advised people on investing in sustainable development projects, which I found fascinating, as that's what I'd like to do with the small amount of money I have.'
'Did anyone come into the pub who could possibly have been Duncan Allen?' Ted asked. 'How were you going to recognise one another?'
She gave a small laugh and looked embarrassed. 'Oh, that was a bit silly, really. I have a little pendant necklace with a Shiz Tzu on it. I was wearing that. As for him coming in, I kept looking, every time the door opened, hoping it would be him. There was a man alone at the bar when I got there. He looked nice, but not like Duncan's photo. After I'd waited a good few minutes, I went to get myself a drink and I made sure he could see the pendant. But he didn't say anything, so it wasn't him. In fact, I think he was waiting for someone and may have been stood up himself.
'While I was there anyway, I thought I'd have another drink and perhaps a bar snack, so I stayed some time. It was well after seven when the man at the bar got up to leave. He'd been looking at his watch a lot, and keeping an eye on the door. In fact it must have been getting on for half past seven by then. There was only one other single man in the bar, but he seemed in a hurry, not as if he was waiting for anyone. He finished his drink quickly and went out not long after the first man. After that all the men there, or who came in, had company.
'Do y
ou know anything about him? Do you have any idea why he stood me up? Has he been in an accident, or something?'
Her voice sounded hopeful, wanting there to be a plausible explanation for why her date had neither shown up nor made contact.
'We were looking into him in connection with something else,' Ted said evasively. 'He was clearly unavoidably detained for his meeting with you.'
'Unavoidably detained as in picked up another blonde who was hotter stuff and didn't have a randy lap-dog called Doodle, you reckon, boss?' Jezza asked jokingly as they got back in her car for the short drive back to the station.
Ted smiled. 'It was the best I could come up with. What about this investment in sustainable development, then? Is that what they call selling solar panels these days? His designs on her were more likely to be his commission on selling her some panels, it seems. I keep seeing in the paper how people can sometimes be left with a big shortfall between what the panels cost them and what they generate in income, with these schemes.'
'Yeah, you'd think it might just occur to people that good old sunny Stockport doesn't quite rival somewhere like the Riviera for sunshine hours per year. But then again, our Anne was clearly a bit gullible, believing all that stuff Duncan spun her, which clearly carefully matched what she wanted to hear. Do you think Duncan was the man at the bar, boss? That he was checking her out, didn't fancy what he saw, so moved on to his next meeting?'
'It's a possibility. It's also possible that his next date didn't turn up, if they were due at, say seven. Océane said the first two meet-ups were arranged for the same pub, half an hour apart. So then he moved on to his seven-thirty appointment in a different pub. He was certainly a cool customer, arranging two meets so close together in the same place.
'It's also just about possible that the man who left straight after him was our killer and he was following him. What we need now is the details of who those other two dates were with, if Océane can find that for us.'
