Shadow of the Beast: A DS Hunter Kerr Novel

by Michael Fowler

  That evening Hunter spent time with Jonathan and Daniel on their Play Station. It was a long time since he had been able to do this and after tucking them into their beds he settled down in front of the television. Once again it had been a fair while since he had actually been able to sit down and take in some television, and he watched an episode of The Bill despite Dawn’s phone call bleeding into his thoughts, distracting his viewing. Just before ten o’clock he poured himself a glass of whisky, Beth a glass of wine, and then sat back down to watch the news. The murder in Bridlington was the lead story – the anchorman’s excited tone broadcasting it as major breaking news. They showed aerial footage taken from a helicopter of Braithwaite’s home adjoining the murder scene. There was plenty of forensic activity around the two bungalows, their entire frontage protected by a large oblong tent. The victim had been named as forty-eight-year-old Eric Wheelhouse. They’d also got hold of the latest body found in the cellar of Braithwaite’s old address. They played previous footage showing the two places where they had found Ann Marie Banks and Lesley Jane Warren; their shallow graves still cordoned off. Then the shot panned out to take in the new excavation site, which was a pile of demolished rubble upon which sat a blue forensic tent. White suited forensic officers were captured going into the tent. Some background history of Terrence Braithwaite’s murder trial in nineteen-seventy-three was aired, making great play on his nickname The Beast of Barnwell, and the broadcaster was speculating that there could be more bodies. The broadcast came to its close by relaying back to Braithwaite’s present home. A reporter had door-stepped one of the neighbours for a quote – a woman who had no idea who she was living next door to and said she was shocked because he seemed such a quiet man and so ordinary. As if a serial killer is going to disclose his true nature Hunter couldn’t help but snort to himself. He was surprised how quickly they had connected the killings and wondered how long it would take the newshounds to find out Braithwaite had already been interviewed at a police station and released. Someone was going to have to answer that awkward question and he was certainly glad it wasn’t him.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DAY TWELVE

  Hunter came away from Bramall Lane football ground in reasonably good spirits having seen his beloved Sheffield United scrape a draw from the derby game against Doncaster Rovers. It hadn’t been a good game but he told himself that at least they hadn’t lost again. He shepherded Jonathan and Daniel through the throng of supporters all heading for the railway station. He was trying his best to hurry Daniel along, checking his watch that they would make it to the station in time to catch the next train home, when his mobile rang. He tugged it free from his coat, saw it was Grace, and answered.

  ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’

  ‘Hi Hunter, are you okay?’

  ‘Good actually. Just coming back from football with the boys. I haven’t seen Sheff U for ages.’

  ‘Did they win?’

  ‘Drew with Donny. It wasn’t a memorable match. I won’t be in a rush to waste my money again this season. Pausing he asked, ‘Have you rung me for anything special?’

  ‘I just wanted to let you know how things were going on. I felt a bit guilty over the Braithwaite thing and now this with your informant I thought I’d just cheer you up.’

  ‘That’s appreciated. I’m enjoying the time off but I miss the banter.’

  ‘Miss me as well I bet.’

  ‘Don’t miss you,’ he chuckled.

  ‘Well if that’s your reply I’ll hang up now.’

  ‘Don’t you dare.’

  She let out a shallow laugh, and said, ‘I don’t know if you’ve seen the news but they’ve found another body at Braithwaite’s old address on the Chapel estate and we believe he’s also murdered his neighbour. We’re gearing up for an all-out search for him.’

  ‘Thanks Grace. The gaffer did ring me yesterday and told me. And I caught it on the news. Any idea who the body is in the cellar?’

  ‘It’s another female and youngish – mid-twenties. She was strangled like the others. We haven’t found out who she is yet. She’s been buried a lot longer than Ann Marie and Lesley; looks like she was put down there in the seventies. The thinking is that he killed her before he was caught for the Glynis Young murder. It also looks as though there could be another body in his cellar as well. The floor is old bricks and there are two areas where they’ve been disturbed. They started work on the excavation this morning.’

  ‘The gaffer told me about Braithwaite doing a runner and I saw that forensics are going through his bungalow in Brid. Any idea where he’s gone?’

  ‘No, he’s well and truly gone to ground. A neighbour saw him leaving his house with a big holdall yesterday morning and we’ve got a sighting of him at Bridlington bus station. We know he got a bus to York and that’s where it ends at the moment. We’ve requested CCTV from the bus company and we’re trawling through CCTV in York to see if we can find him.’

  ‘Anything from his house?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s spotless. He’s thoroughly cleaned the whole place. If you didn’t know he’d lived there you wouldn’t have a clue as to who the owner was. He’s taken every scrap of paper with him, every bill, anything that might have had his name on it. The lot. It doesn’t look as though he had a computer and we can’t find evidence that he owned a mobile. He even took the house phones with him so we can’t check logs, though thankfully we can get his phone records. He really is a canny guy.’

  ‘Anything from his neighbour’s house?’

  ‘Not yet. The place is a dump. I tell you what though, Braithwaite obviously had issues with Eric Wheelhouse. He really went to town on him with a knife. They’ve found a hundred-and-sixty-two stab wounds on his body. There’s no part of him that’s not been stabbed. The pathologist says he was disembowelled with surgical precision. Apparently a similar technique used by Jack the Ripper.’

  ‘Well, Terry Braithwaite was a butcher wasn’t he.’ Pausing he asked, ‘Have they found any of his associates?’

  ‘None listed on his record. We’re still waiting for copies of the visitor log from Rampton to see who came to see him while he was inside, as well as his file from Probation, but from speaking with his Probation Officer she had him down as a bit of a loner. There’s something else we’ve found out on that footing that is really interesting’

  ‘What’s that then?’

  ‘Well you know we’ve made media appeals about the use of the flat where Ann Marie and Lesley lived.’

  ‘I know the gaffer was going to prioritise it. I haven’t seen the news about that though.’

  ‘It was on the local news two nights ago. Well, as a result, we got back one very interesting response from a witness who thinks she saw Lesley being abducted, although at the time she didn’t realise that was what she was witnessing.’

  ‘Oh, go on then.’

  ‘A woman in her fifties contacted us yesterday. Apparently she used to live in the house that backs onto Harry Wainwright’s shop. She was a young teenager back in the eighties, and she told us that on the night Lesley went missing she was hanging out of her bedroom window having a crafty cig, because her parents didn’t know that she smoked, and she saw a small dark blue minivan parked at the back of Harry’s shop with its doors open. She was curious because she’d not seen it there before, and she also knew that Ann Marie and Lesley were prostitutes because she was friendly with Ann Marie, and her Mother told her to keep away from them. Anyway, that Sunday evening she told us that she saw a man with dark wavy hair and a beard, which fits the description of Braithwaite, together with a thin woman, with blonde hair, bundling something large wrapped in a sheet into the back of the van and then they drove off. She put the time at round about seven o’clock because they had just had their tea.’

  ‘A woman!’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And the witness is sure about the date – Sunday, thirteenth of May, nineteen-eighty-four?’

  ‘Absolutely. App
arently Harry went to their house a couple of days later to ask her dad if he had seen anything, and told him about the girls doing a runner, owing him rent money. Her dad said no of course, and she decided not to tell Harry because she liked Ann Marie. She thought it might have been friends of Ann Marie’s helping her do a moonlight and moving her stuff.’

  ‘But if it was Braithwaite putting Lesley’s body in the back of the van, that goes against what the witness Sue Braddock told us about hearing two men in the old chapel.’

  ‘Unless he had more than one accomplice. A man who helped him bury Ann Marie and a woman to help him bury Lesley.’

  Hunter furrowed his brow, ‘Well, whoever this woman was, it can’t have been his wife. She was dead. He buried her that Friday.’

  ‘It’s not finished there.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘No. Following on from that information we’ve interviewed the man who helped catch Braithwaite back in nineteen-seventy-one when he killed Glynis Young; the fisherman who saw him trying to rape her at Barnwell lakes and intervened. Banged on the roof of his van as he drove away and that’s how he was caught. Remember?’

  Hunter remembered.

  Before he could answer Grace continued, ‘Well he’s a good seventy-five now, but he’s still sharp as a knife, and we specifically asked him if he had seen anyone else with Braithwaite, or anyone hanging around at the time of the incident and he had. He told us that he thought he saw a young blonde haired girl sat in the front of Braithwaite’s van. Apparently he did tell the investigating officers this at the time but they tried to say that maybe he was confusing it with Glynis Young, because she also had blonde hair. By the time they had finished interviewing him he wasn’t quite sure and so it was never put in his statement for court and he was never asked. We went through everything again and he still remembers that event as if it happened yesterday. He’s certain he saw Braithwaite attacking Glynis in the back of the van and that a young blonde haired girl was sat in the passenger seat watching the whole thing.’

  ‘Wow. So you’re now thinking that this young blonde haired girl in nineteen-seventy-one is the blonde haired woman in nineteen-eighty-four?’

  ‘That’s what it looks like.’

  ‘Bloody hell Grace!’ As soon as he expressed his thoughts he regretted it, shooting a look at the faces of his two sons.

  Daniel was looking back scornfully. He said, ‘I’m telling mum you swore.’

  Hunter mouthed the word ‘sorry’ and then returned to his call. ‘Listen Grace I’ve got to go for the train or I’ll miss it. Thanks for filling me in. Hopefully I’m going to be back at work within a week but I’ll keep in touch and let you know how things are going. If you hear anything else ring me.’ With that he finished the call, checking the time on his phone. He had four minutes to catch his train.

  * * *

  Hunter saw the boys to their beds, said goodnight to them and following a quick shower decided to go and visit Michael Robshaw at the hospital. Kissing Beth, he told her where he was going, that he wouldn’t be long and drove the short journey to Barnwell General. Visiting time had just started when he got there and he was surprised to find Dawn Leggate already on the ward, sitting beside her partner holding his hand. Evening briefing must have been early he thought, hesitating momentarily, wondering if she was still angry with him. Catching the hint of a smile on her lips he breathed a sigh of relief and continued approaching the bedside. Hunter saw that his former boss’s eyes were still closed but he noticed a marked difference in his appearance for the first time since the accident; most of the dark bruising had gone, as had the swelling. He looked more like his old self. Pulling up a chair opposite and dipping his head as he sat down he asked, ‘How is he? Any improvement?’

  ‘Apparently the nurses say he’s had a good day. He’s had his eyes open a couple of times and he’s asked for a drink for the first time.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  She nodded. ‘I’m glad you’ve come.’

  ‘It’s the least I can do. If it was the other way around I know he’d come and visit me.’

  ‘I’m sure he would.’ Dawn glanced at Michael’s face, released his hand and gently stroked his cheek. Then, returning her gaze to Hunter she said, ‘I’m glad you’ve come because I can update you about Shaggy’s shooting. It’s good news.’

  ‘They’ve got them?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, they’ve got both Danny Harris and Jason Roberts – Jazz. They traced Mark’s phone to a flat in Burngreave and found them all together during a raid this morning. And they’ve recovered a gun. It was hidden in the toilet cistern along with a couple of kilo of amphet. Early indications are that it looks like the one used in both Sonny’s and Shaggy’s shooting.’

  ‘Good result then?’

  ‘It’s thanks to your information. Especially getting Mark’s mobile number. We got them before they could get rid of everything.’

  ‘What about Mark?’

  ‘Can’t shut him up apparently. He’s telling them everything; who’s involved in the drug dealing and where they keep their stashes. He’s told them about Sonny’s shooting – Danny asking him to hide the gun and he was apparently in the back of the car when they shot his step-dad Shaggy. They threatened the same would happen to him if he said anything, but his mum’s persuaded him to talk on the promise of moving them off the estate. They’re sorting out a new place where they can go as we speak. They’re in a council flat so it’s going to be easier. They’re getting them some emergency accommodation for a couple of days and then they’ll probably be moved well out of the area where nobody can find them. Start a new life.’

  ‘It’s not going to be easy for them. It’s a decision I wouldn’t like to have to make.’

  ‘Me neither Hunter. The main thing is Danny Harris and Jason Roberts are not going to be in a position to go looking for them. They’re well and truly screwed. They’re not going to be seeing the light of day for a very long time with two murder charges on their toes.’

  ‘Are they saying anything?’

  Dawn shook her head, ‘Nope. Both “no commenting.”’

  ‘Well that’s up to them. With this evidence they’ve blown it.’

  ‘My sentiments exactly.’

  ‘What about what’s happened to Michael. Anything about that?’

  Her mouth tightened. ‘Mark’s been asked about it but he says he’s not heard Danny or Jason talk about any accident, only about the shootings. The team have recovered Danny’s car and the DCI overseeing the investigation tells me it doesn’t look as though it’s been involved in any accident, so it’s back to square one.’

  ‘Christ, that’s frustrating. Is there nothing come back from traffic about it?’

  ‘Nothing. They’ve only got that one witness; the woman who heard the bang as she was drying herself after her bath, and looked out of her bathroom window and saw the car driving off and Michael lying on the road. They’ve gone through loads of CCTV footage, but there’s nothing that matches the car’s description on any of the roads going away from the scene around about the time of the accident. They’re thinking now that maybe the car was parked up somewhere nearby, in one of the side streets, and that the driver legged it and then maybe went back the next day to pick it up when they were sober, so they’re extending the search time parameters.’

  ‘That really is frustrating. I hoped we were going to get a breakthrough.’

  ‘You and me both.’ Dawn sighed, ‘Hey ho, mustn’t get downhearted, there’s still some work to do. I’m not giving up hope.’

  ‘What about Braithwaite? Have you managed to track him down yet?’

  She shook her head. ‘We’ve got everybody out searching for him. You saw the news about the Wheelhouse murder?’

  Hunter nodded. ‘Grace gave me a call. She told me about how many times he’d been stabbed and everything. Horrendous isn’t it?’

  ‘And all because he was playing his music too loud. There’s no doubt in my mind that Bra
ithwaite’s one sick evil bastard. The sooner we get him locked up the better.’

  Hunter pursed his mouth and held Dawn’s gaze. A moment’s silence passed between them and then Hunter asked, ‘I know it’s not appropriate boss, but has anything been said about Barry’s and my reinstatement, especially now they’ve got Danny Harris and Jason Roberts banged up.’

  ‘I’m speaking with Professional Standards tomorrow to see if they can hurry things along. All I can see that will happen to you now is that you’ll get a slap on the wrist, they’ll probably recommend that you need some re-training on informant handling and then you’ll be back in the fold. I’m afraid you’re going to have to spend a few more days at home doing boring domestic duties, but it’s nothing more than you deserve, going against my orders.’ She issued a half smile.

  ‘Lesson learned boss.’

  ‘I bloody well hope so Hunter. Now do you fancy a quick beer? The back of my mouth feels like sandpaper.’

  * * *

  In a nearby pub, Dawn Leggate swiftly downed two halves of lager and then said her goodbyes leaving Hunter to finish off the remains of his beer. As she made her way across the car park to her car she thought about what she still needed to do before her day ended; there was her daily journal to complete and a list of priorities to prepare for morning briefing. As she took her car keys out of her bag she was already determining that she was going to do that with a sandwich and glass of wine in front of the TV watching the news. She had just popped the locks of her Mercedes and was about to open the driver’s door when her mobile rang. Quickly, she pulled it out of her bag and glanced at the number. She didn’t recognise it, but wondered if it was someone from the Sheffield team who wanted to update her about the arrests of Harris and Roberts and so she answered, ‘Detective Superintendent Leggate.’

  She was met with an initial silence and was about to repeat her name when the man said, ‘Dawn.’ She stiffened, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck bristle and with a sudden feeling of dread she replied, ‘Jack?’