Eileen interrupted. ‘Enough people knew the victim’s whereabouts at the time of her death so it’s possible she knew her killer. At the moment her boyfriend and her stepfather are both potential suspects. Either of them might fit your profile.’
‘Gary wasn’t her boyfriend,’ Ian corrected Eileen. ‘He was a friend, although according to the victim’s girlfriend, he was keen on the victim.’
‘The forensic report indicates a particular type of axe head, curved, and possibly decorated in some way. That’s odd, isn’t it?’ George added. ‘But distinctive? Where, I wonder, would anyone obtain such a weapon?’
Ian nodded. There was something about the profiler that inspired confidence, perhaps because what he said made good sense. His conclusions were pretty much in line with Ian’s own thinking. Understandably, both Gary and Frank had strenuously denied owning an axe, or a large blade of any description. So far the investigation hadn’t uncovered anything to indicate that either of them was lying. The whole area was being thoroughly searched but there was no sign of the murder weapon. It was time to take a look at where the suspects lived. Ian had applied for search warrants for both properties, and he set off with Ted and Naomi as soon as George had finished.
First they went to Gary’s address. He lived with his mother in a street of rundown terraced properties on the outskirts of town. The door was opened by a short, fat woman who greeted them with a worried smile that faded when Ian asked to speak to Gary.
‘Is he in trouble?’ she asked.
‘Not yet,’ Ian replied honestly, ‘but we’d like to take a look around the house.’
‘Well, I’m not sure…’
‘We have a warrant to search the premises.’
‘What? What are you expecting to find here?’
Naomi stepped forward. ‘It won’t take long,’ she said briskly. ‘We just need to take a quick look around the house to eliminate Gary from our investigation, and then we won’t need to trouble you anymore.’
She made it sound as though searching the house was no big deal, just a routine matter that might happen to anyone from time to time. With a nervous smile, Mrs Farr nodded and gestured for them to enter.
‘Well done,’ Ian muttered to Naomi.
She turned to him, with a slightly surprised expression on her face. Feeling as though he had been clumsily patronising, Ian turned to Ted.
‘I’ll go upstairs, Naomi downstairs, and you take the garden.’
His colleagues set to work and Ian climbed the stairs with Gary’s mother wheezing behind him.
‘What are you looking for?’ she demanded breathlessly as they reached the landing. ‘He’s not on drugs. He’s never done drugs. What do you think you’re going to find here?’
Ian reassured her this was merely routine as he asked which was Gary’s bedroom.
‘I don’t want you going in there, not while he’s not here.’
Ignoring her indignation, Ian went into Gary’s room. It was long and narrow with barely space for a single bed, a built-in wardrobe, and a small wooden cabinet beside the bed. A thin curtain was drawn across the window. Ian switched on the naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and began his search by opening the door to the cabinet.
‘That’s his old phone,’ Mrs Farr piped up. ‘He never uses it.’
Ian turned it on. The calls had stopped six months previously, and it had no signal. Ian checked his own phone. He had a good signal. Gary’s mother was right. The phone was no longer in use. All the same, Gary had kept it in the cupboard beside his bed. Checking the photos Ian found over two hundred images of Angela. He put the phone in a bag and pocketed it.
‘You can’t take that!’ Mrs Farr protested.
There was nothing else of any interest in the room, only a packet of cigarettes in the bedside cabinet, clothes, a towel and a pair of trainers in the wardrobe, and an empty duffel bag on the floor which Ian took. It was possible a small axe could have been carried in the bag.
‘What are you doing with that?’
‘We just need to get it checked, and then he can have it back.’
‘What do you mean, checked? I told you, he doesn’t take drugs.’
She didn’t appear to realise that Ian was conducting a murder investigation. He went downstairs and waited for Ted and Naomi. Their searches had been fruitless. If Gary did own a blade that matched the description of the one used to kill Angela, he wasn’t keeping it at home.
‘Does your son own a car?’
‘What are you talking about? He’s eighteen. He’s at college. Where is he going to get the money for a car from?’
‘What about your car? Does he drive that?’
‘He’s insured to drive it, yes.’
‘Has he passed his test?’ Naomi asked. ‘Does he ever go out in your car without you?’
Mrs Farr answered no to both questions. ‘Not that I can see it’s any of your business.’
‘We’d like to take a look at your car.’
‘What for? What are you looking for?’
There was no sign of the murder weapon in Mrs Farr’s car. Disappointed, Ian and his colleagues left. Although he knew better than to allow himself to be seduced into believing theories that lacked hard evidence, Ian had been desperately hoping that they were going to find something incriminating. The photos of Angela on Gary’s old phone were suggestive, but they were inconclusive. As they drove away, it didn’t help that Naomi joked about finding a bloody axe under the bed.
Their next visit was trickier. Frank came to the door.
‘Keep it quiet,’ he warned them. ‘She’s asleep. The doctor’s given her something, and she’s sleeping all the time. I suppose it’s for the best, for now. Well, have you found out who did it?’
‘Not yet,’ Ian admitted heavily.
This time Naomi’s seemingly casual request to look around the house was not so well received.
‘What are you talking about, you want to take a look around?’ Frank retorted in a low voice, suddenly red-faced with anger. ‘What the hell do you think you’re going to find here? No, I won’t have you poking your noses in my house. Your lot have already been here, ferreting about in Angela’s room. We’ve had enough of it. Please just go away and leave us alone. And find out who did it. That’s what you ought to be doing, not hanging around here, pestering us.’
Ian spoke very calmly. ‘We have a warrant to search the premises, so it would be best to let us get on with our job quietly. If you’re determined to obstruct us, I’m afraid we’ll have to remove you.’
‘Remove me? From my own house?’ Frank blustered. ‘Oh very well then, if you must. Can you at least tell me what you’re looking for?’
‘I’m sorry, we can’t tell you that. Now, if you’ll let us get on, we can get through this as quickly as possible.’
‘You’d better not wake her up.’
Of course they had to disturb Moira, provoking more protests from Frank, but it was all for nothing. Ian wasn’t surprised. While Gary could quite conceivably have kept a murder weapon under his bed, Frank struck him as too clever to be so easily caught out.
16
Uncle Tim threw his head back and guffawed.
‘You should have seen your face when you saw me,’ he spluttered.
Flustered, Dana muttered something about being caught trying on rings. The truth was that she hadn’t expected him back in the shop until the next morning. Usually when he went out on a visit he was gone all day. Dropping her gaze, she saw that her fingers were still sparkling with gems. Quickly she pulled the rings off, one by one, and replaced them on their trays.
‘I was only trying them on. There wasn’t anyone here. It was boring. I didn’t do anything…’
‘Caught red-handed,’ he said, and burst out laughing again. ‘Or should that be caught ring-handed?’
He took a deep breath, still grinning at her discomfort. ‘Look, I never said you couldn’t try the jewellery on,’ he went on, kindly. ‘You can try on whatever you want. If anything, I’m pleased. You should be familiar with the stock. You go ahead, try things on as often as you like, as long as customers aren’t here to see. Just make sure you put them all back in the right places, with the right price tags. We wouldn’t want to sell that for two hundred quid!’ He held up a diamond ring with a four-figure price tag. ‘Though that might be closer to what it’s worth.’
He winked at her and she smiled, relieved that he wasn’t cross with her.
‘Isn’t that cheating customers?’
He laughed. ‘We’ve been through this, before, love. Caveat emptor.’
‘What?’
‘Let the buyer beware. They can see what they’re getting, and they know the price before they buy it. What they do about it is up to them.’
‘But aren’t we lying about what they’re worth?’
‘They’re worth whatever people are willing to pay. Who is it puts a value on these trinkets? Some little stone dug out of the ground, why should it be worth anything?’
She frowned, trying to understand his point. ‘Because it’s pretty?’
He laughed. ‘How do you put a price on that? It’s just what someone’s prepared to pay for it, that’s all.’
‘But you’re saying it’s worth something.’
He smiled at her. ‘Well, obviously I want to get as much as I can for these things. But everyone knows that. I’m here to sell them for as much as I can get. That’s what keeps me in business. Everyone knows the rules.’
Dana shook her head. She wasn’t sure he was right about that, but she wasn’t clever enough to argue with him. She wasn’t sure what rules he was talking about.
‘Did you have a good day?’ she asked, when she had taken all the rings off and returned them very carefully to the right trays.
They chatted for a while, did some tidying up, and then Tim told her she could go home early.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. You deserve it. You did a great job today, holding the fort while I was out. We’re hardly going to have a rush now.’
About to point out that it was the evening they stayed open late, when people sometimes popped in after work, Dana remembered she was going out that evening.
‘Thanks, Uncle Tim. You’re a star!’
‘No worries. Take care on the way home.’
He had never said anything like that to her before. Catching sight of a headline in a newspaper someone had left on the seat at the bus stop, she wondered if there had been a reason for his concern. The headline read: ‘Axe Man Still at Large!’ Underneath, in a smaller font, it said: ‘Police Baffled.’
Dana cast a covert glance around. There were three people waiting at the bus stop, two of them youths in hoodies, one an older man in a long grey raincoat. She had been nervous left alone in the jewellery store, but at least there was an emergency button there. She could have refused to unlock the door to anyone she didn’t like the look of, and if someone had tried to smash their way in, which sometimes happened in jewellers, the alarm would have been triggered automatically as she ran out the back. It wasn’t ideal, but she had some protection in the shop, apart from the CCTV which was supposed to deter criminals.
Out here on the street, she was alone. Looking around, she caught the eye of the man in the raincoat. The two youngsters were engaged in a good-natured altercation which involved exchanging insulting obscenities. The older man was staring at her. Bald, with a neatly pointed beard and thick eyebrows, he reminded her of the game she used to play as a child where she would stick plastic features on to potatoes to give them funny faces. Abruptly she turned her back, hoping the bus would come soon. If the bald man got on, she would sit as far away from him as possible and jump off at the last possible minute so he couldn’t follow her off the bus. When her bus came, the bald man didn’t climb aboard. Twisting round to stare out of the window, she caught a glimpse of his back disappearing into her uncle’s shop as her bus drew away. Although he hadn’t been interested in her at all, there had definitely been something creepy about him.
Fully recovered from her fright at the bus stop, Dana was all dressed up ready to go out when her father stopped her in the hall.
‘Where the hell do you think you’re going, dressed like that?’
‘Dad, I’m an adult. I can wear what I want.’
‘You’re nineteen, not much older than the girl who was hacked to death not far from here last weekend.’
Her mother joined them. ‘They still haven’t caught him,’ she added her weight to her husband’s warning.
‘Well, no one’s going to hack me to death,’ Dana retorted. ‘I’m not going to be wandering around the streets alone at night. I’m meeting the others at eight and we’re going to share a taxi home. Don’t look like that. You wanted me to get a job, and now I can do what I want with the money I earn and you can’t stop me.’
‘At least put on a coat over that skirt,’ her mother said.
‘And you can’t tell me what to wear!’
Dana flounced out of the house. Her bare legs trembled as she hurried to the station. She wouldn’t feel safe until she was with her friends.
17
Before Ian had finished speaking, Eileen reached a decision.
‘We need to try and get to the bottom of this. Let’s bring him in.’
‘I’d like to speak to Zoe again first,’ he replied. ‘I’m not sure I believe her story...’
‘This is an allegation of rape, Ian, from a sixteen-year-old girl. Angela may even have been underage when the alleged assault took place.’
‘We heard this from a girl who wasn’t present... ‘
Eileen raised her eyebrows.
Ian pressed on. ‘I don’t believe there was any sexual assault.’
‘Whatever we may think, we have received this allegation and it has to be investigated with full rigour.’
‘I’m only saying we shouldn’t prejudge the situation. This alleged rape might not have actually happened. It could have been a genuine accident. It hardly seems likely he would have attempted to force himself on Angela on the stairs at a party with other kids around – and Zoe wasn’t even there.’ Eileen gazed at him stony-faced. ‘What I’m trying to say is that we don’t know what really happened…’
‘Well, let’s find out. One way or another we need to look into it. Bring him in, Ian, and let’s put some pressure on him to tell us the truth.’
While Eileen had made it fairly clear she expected Ian to go straight to Gary’s house to pick him up, she hadn’t issued a direct order to go there right away. He wanted to take advantage of the ambiguity and speak to Zoe again first. He would have preferred to go alone, but under the circumstances that was awkward. He really had to take a female officer with him. He wasn’t sure whether he could trust Naomi to be discreet, so decided against asking her to keep quiet about the return visit. He would be completely open about it, recording the details on his decision log. In any case, it was never wise to be underhand in his dealings with members of the public. Duplicity – or even secrecy – had a tendency to backfire. If he failed to record the visit and Zoe or her mother lodged a complaint about it, he could end up in serious trouble.
He was pleasantly surprised when Zoe’s mother didn’t slam the door in his face. She invited him in quite cheerfully.
‘Zoe’s fine,’ she assured them, as though the purpose of their visit was to find out how her daughter was.
‘I’d like to have another word with her.’
‘I’m not sure… you won’t go upsetting her again, will you?’
Ian didn’t say that he had done nothing to upset her on his last visit.
‘Don’t worry,’ Naomi responded quickly.
‘I only want to ask her if she knows who else was at the party when the alleged incident took place. The more witnesses we can find the better. We want to make sure we have a watertight case,’ Ian lied.
With a nod, Mrs Drayton led them into a neat living room.
‘I’ll call her.’
Ian looked around. The living room was, if anything, even tidier than he remembered it from his first visit. There was a pile of magazines neatly stacked on a coffee table, around which a sofa and two armchairs were arranged at right angles to each other. A coaster had been placed in each corner of the table, in a perfectly symmetrical arrangement. The carpet looked as though it had recently been hoovered, and every surface – table, television screen, window sills – gleamed as though everything had been wiped and polished only a moment before they arrived. Mrs Drayton was evidently house-proud.
At first Zoe said she couldn’t remember who else had been at the party. Then she said it didn’t matter, because no one else had been on the stairs when Gary had assaulted Angela. As gently as he could, Ian enquired how she knew that if she hadn’t been present.
‘Because she told me! Angela told me!’ Zoe retorted angrily before she burst into tears.
‘Now you’ve upset her again,’ Mrs Drayton protested.
It was hopeless. Thanking them for their cooperation Ian left, more convinced than ever that Zoe was fabricating her story, but unable to challenge her. She had committed herself too far to retract now, and with Angela dead there was no one to confirm or refute her account. Ian couldn’t put any pressure on her without her resorting to tears. He was rendered helpless. It was more than his career was worth to be heavy-handed with her. And it was still possible that she was telling the truth. There was just no way he could be sure, one way or the other.
‘She’s only sixteen,’ Naomi reminded him when they were back in the car.
‘And we’re talking about a man’s freedom,’ Ian replied tersely.
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