‘She was wearing this, nothing else.’
Pete gestured to the sheets and pillowcases. They had found no other hair samples, only Amanda’s, but from the sheets they had raised different DNA profiles from two semen stains. Neither could be traced on the National Database. Pete had numerous bath towels and face cloths and a section of carpet brought from Amanda’s house, but all the bloodstains belonged to her.
‘We can bring in more garments from her wardrobe but I can’t see that it will help. From her laundry bag, we’ve taken two more pillowcases smeared with make-up, but no other DNA or unknown source fibres. We have some of her underwear which is being tested for DNA to match with the sheets.’
Pete glanced at Anna. She had made notes, interested in the results of the vaginal, anal and mouth swabs checking for semen due to signs of sexual assault on the body.
‘Our movie star put it about a bit and we found this under her bed.’ Pete showed them a tinfoil wrap and said it was crack cocaine. They had also found a glass pipe in a box, with two small rocks of crack cocaine.
‘Did anyone bring in a diary?’ Anna asked. ‘It’s just we think she kept one, but so far we haven’t found it.’
Pete shook his head. They had done a thorough search of the mews house, and the numerous fingerprints found there were being checked through the database. Most were Amanda’s, but as yet there was no match for any of the others. He showed them a mug of what looked like residue of black coffee, but it was Marmite. They had siphoned it off from the mug at the scene and submitted it separately so that they could examine the mug for saliva and prints.
‘Her fridge had a half-empty jar of it, a bunch of grapes and some bottles of water, nothing else. The mug has her fingerprints on it, no one else’s and the kitchen was clean, didn’t look used. Even her microwave still had the plastic wrap around the plate inside.’
Anna nodded and crossed to two large albums. These were leather-bound, but only one had photographs inside. She opened it to see some very lovely face shots of Amanda, but no other family or social snapshots.
‘Why have you got these?’ she asked.
Pete shrugged and suggested they had been brought in to check out fingerprints.
‘They should be taken to the station,’ she said brusquely.
‘Apparently she had only recently moved into the house, which is why it’s so devoid of fingerprints and so tidy. Lot of carpet fluff everywhere, but that’s because the carpets were new. I would say her killer would have a lot of carpet fibres over him, but he wasn’t wearing anything that shed. There must have been a real tussle on the bed where she was stabbed. Oh …’ Pete paused and looked along the table, then walked to the far side. In a small plastic bag was a tiny gold cross and a few links of a broken chain.
‘We found this caught between the top and bottom sheet. It’s a crucifix but the chain has been snapped. I don’t know if it belonged to Amanda, but it would be good to find out, because if it wasn’t hers it could be the killer’s and she snapped it off when she was attacked. We’ve checked for skin cells but no luck.’
Anna inspected the small cross; it didn’t look the type worn by a man. It was plain and quite heavy, with an eighteen carat gold mark printed on the back. The chain links were also gold.
‘Can I take this?’ She would look through all Amanda’s photographs to see if she was wearing it.
Pete nodded, asking her to sign it out. Simon was staring at the bloodstained sheets.
‘There was no sign of a breakin, was there?’ He looked at Pete.
‘No. There was no damage to the front or back door. Last but not least, we have the victim’s handbag.’
The bag was good designer leather with a matching purse inside containing eight pounds in coins. A wallet had two hundred and fifty pounds in it, all in fifties. There was a compact, comb and lipstick and a credit-card holder with numerous credit cards and membership cards for nightclubs and a health club. Anna said that checks had been made on Amanda’s accounts to see if any withdrawals had been made, but there had been none to date since her murder.
‘So robbery wasn’t the motive, but then we can’t even be sure about that, as we don’t know what might be missing,’ Simon murmured and looked at Anna. ‘Let’s take these and double-check the clubs, et cetera.’
Anna nodded then glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘We should get going.’
Simon headed out first and Pete moved closer to Anna.
‘How’s things with you?’ he asked.
‘Fine, working away, you know.’
‘Maybe catch up with dinner one night?’
‘Yes, maybe.’
‘Still the same old Anna. I didn’t get a chance to speak to you after the trial and I hear that Langton is still seething about losing Fitzpatrick, but you can’t win ’em all.’
‘No, you can’t.’
‘I reckon he’ll surface one day.’
‘Do you?’
‘Don’t you?’
She shook her head. ‘No. Fitzpatrick got away with enough money to hide out for a long time. I don’t think he’d risk coming back to the UK.’
‘Maybe not, and like I said, you can’t win ’em all. Do you have a suspect for Amanda Delany?’
‘No.’
Pete shook his head, turning back to look at the trestle table.
‘That’s bad news. There’s a lot of media coverage. I’d say it had to be someone she knew, let himself in …’
‘We have no motive or any information about anyone stalking or harassing her. She was in the middle of shooting a movie.’
‘Maybe she pissed off one of her boyfriends,’ Pete suggested.
‘Well, we’re making enquiries.’
He laughed softly then mimicked her. ‘ “Making enquiries” … good luck to you. If I get anything to help you, I’ll be in touch.’
‘Thanks, Pete.’ Her mobile rang.
Simon was standing impatiently by her Mini.
‘What took you so long?’ he said.
‘Just chatting. I’ve worked with Pete before. Listen, I just got a call from the guy who redesigned her house. He said he’d meet us there.’ She bleeped open the car and Simon got in next to her. When she started the engine, he slapped the dashboard with the flat of his hand.
‘Jesus Christ, you know we have nothing, nor does your friend Pete have anything for us. Some bastard walked into her house, knifed her to death and walked out without leaving a single thread or hair or … it’s mind-blowing.’
Anna drove out of the car park and into heavy traffic heading north across the river.
‘I suppose we have that cross,’ Simon sighed. ‘We need to find out if it was Amanda’s or …’ he said it under his breath ‘… the killer’s.’
He leaned back.
‘I’d put money on it that it’s hers. What man walks around with that kind of thing round his neck nowadays? Tacky medallions, yes, or plain gold chains, but crucifixes? No way.’
‘What if her killer was a woman?’
‘Impossible.’
‘Why do you say that?’
Simon asked rudely if she had listened to what De Silva had said. The pathologist was certain that Amanda had been raped; the fact that there was no semen inside her body was because the killer wore a condom.
‘They could have used some kind of instrument,’ Anna argued.
‘Yeah, like a brass dildo.’
‘If De Silva finds evidence from the brain scans that Amanda was unconscious whilst being raped and then knifed, it could have been done by a woman.’
‘I disagree,’ Simon retorted. ‘It doesn’t fit a female pattern.’
They drove on in silence for a few moments before Anna gave him a sidelong look.
‘What exactly in your mind is a female pattern?’ she enquired.
He glanced at her and folded his arms.
‘They don’t go armed with a Commando knife, they don’t stab their victim repeatedly and they don’t rape them. Unless
you think they wore a strap-on dildo and … oh look, I don’t fucking know. It just doesn’t feel as if a woman would do what was done to that poor kid.’
‘Who in your mind would do it, then?’
‘Someone racked with jealousy, someone she’d turned down, someone who didn’t feel they were good enough or she’d made feel that way, someone she’d used and then dumped, someone full of anger. Also, I think, someone not able to mix in her circles. The more famous she got, the more out of reach she became, but I’m damned sure it’s someone who knew her.’
A new Mercedes convertible was parking up outside Amanda’s mews house. Getting out was a tall elegant man, at least six feet four, tanned and good-looking, wearing a snazzy striped blazer, open-necked shirt and grey flannel trousers.
‘He looks like he’s gonna play cricket. What a prat,’ Simon snapped.
‘That’s got to be Maurice Sutton,’ Anna observed. ‘He’s from Sutton and Hargreaves interior designers.’
‘You met him before?’
‘No, but I recognise him from their brochure. He’s quite well-known.’
She got out of the car and smiled at Sutton. He turned towards her.
‘Detective Travis?’ He had a deep resonant voice.
‘Yes, that’s me, and this is Detective Simon Dunn.’
Sutton nodded to Simon and looked over at the house. A uniformed officer was on duty outside and there were yellow scene-of-crime ribbons across the front door.
‘Are we going inside?’ he asked.
Anna nodded. The three entered the narrow hall one behind the other. Sutton was head and shoulders above both Anna and Simon.
‘Oh my God, this is so sad,’ Sutton said quietly. He looked around the small hallway as Anna gestured for them to go into the drawing room. The perfectly proportioned room, with its cream walls and matching carpet, looked immaculate. The soft tan leather sofa and chairs were complemented by matching cushions. Cleverly positioned mirrors made the room feel larger. The inlaid coffee-table had a deep blue glass bowl and glossy magazines stacked on it. There were three paintings on the walls, a number of candlesticks on the shelving and nothing else. Spartan and almost austere, the room was still very comfortable and belied its size. Sutton sat in the easy chair and Anna on the sofa, but Simon remained standing.
‘Is there anything in this room you think is missing?’ he asked.
Sutton gave a slow glance around the room. ‘Well, I’ve not been here for about eight or nine weeks … but no, it looks exactly as I left it.’
‘Do you have a set of keys?’
‘Er, no. I did, of course – but I handed them back to Amanda’s agent, Miss Lesser.’
They eventually moved to a small room Amanda must have used as an office. There were fitted bookshelves and a desk with a leather office chair and again, little else. No books; even the desk drawers were empty. Sutton said it was just as he had left it. Even the new green carpet had no scuffmarks.
‘She wanted this room kept very simple,’ he explained. ‘She was going to get a computer; as you can see, everything is wired and ready. The desk lamp is about the only thing she must have bought. It’s not one that I supplied.’
On one of the shelves was a big stack of scripts, some still in brown envelopes with dates written on yellow Post-it notes and handwritten memos from Andrea Lesser.
‘As far as I can recall, most of the scripts were here,’ Sutton said, looking around. ‘I remember her agent telling me Amanda was supposed to read them. They’re all offers of work.’
Anna asked Sutton if he had met Andrea Lesser frequently.
‘Yes, she was overseeing the rebuilding and refurbishing and would come by to check on deliveries and progress.’
They went into the newly fitted kitchen, which looked as if it had barely been used.
‘I don’t think Amanda ever cooked, but she asked for all this high-tech equipment,’ Sutton pointed out. ‘There’s a small laundry room over here.’
They then checked the dining room with its French windows leading into the small walled garden. According to Sutton, nothing had been moved or changed or was missing. The small box bedroom was done out in soft peach tones, with matching headboard, drapes and cushions on the single bed, the white carpet thick with fluff. The fitted wardrobes were empty, as were all the drawers of the small dressing-table.
As they headed to the master suite, Sutton paused. ‘Is this where it happened?’
Anna nodded and stood back for him to go in ahead of her and Simon. The king-sized bed with its decorative headboard had been stripped, the pillows, sheet, duvet and mattress removed. Sections of the bloodstained carpet had been cut out. Sutton stood close to the bed, shaking his head.
‘Amanda was really only interested in this room. She chose the colour scheme and the linen, even the cushion covers. The walls are lined with Japanese silk, very expensive, the drapes too.’
Anna slid back the mirrored wardrobe doors to reveal a mass of clothes. There were four mirrored compartments, one containing racks of shoes from floor to ceiling, another with sweaters of every shade, carefully folded and stacked according to their colour. There was a rack of blouses, evening on one side, day on the other; Anna could see by the labels that they were all very expensive designer and couture garments.
A massive square mirror ran the length of the wall above the bedhead. The two bedside tables had crystal lamps and cut-glass bowls full of fake velvet and silk flowers. There was a hidden dressing room, and behind one wall of mirrors was a dressing-table, an old theatrical type with light bulbs on three sides. The carpet in the bedroom was very scuffed and there were a lot of fluff balls. It showed the imprint of their feet as they moved around the markings left by the forensic teams. Anna asked Sutton to look over the dressing-table. She switched on the lights; they were so bright she wanted to shade her eyes.
There were drawers filled with make-up and hairpieces. They opened up to sit flat either side of the dressing table. Wigs, hairbands and fake-tan bottles were jumbled together with bottles of different scents. There were drawers filled with sexy lace underwear, and on top of the dressing-table was a large leather jewel case, containing rows of rings, gold bracelets, numerous pearl necklaces, gold chains and lockets – a genuine treasure trove.
‘Are these real stones?’
Sutton glanced at the many rings and shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. I never saw her wearing any jewellery really.’
‘What about a gold cross? Did you ever see her wearing a crucifix?’ Simon interjected.
‘No, no, I don’t think I ever did.’ Sutton turned to look at the stripped bed and frowned. Neither Anna nor Simon spoke, waiting as if they both knew he’d remembered something.
‘Did you find a toy floppy-eared rabbit? It was very worn and she, I mean Amanda, used to have it propped up on her pillow. Apparently it was always with her.’
‘How do you know?’
Sutton turned, looking confused. ‘What do you mean?’
‘How did you know it was always on her pillow? From what you’ve said to us, you hadn’t been here since you finished the decorations.’
This was Simon again. Anna noted a frown pass over Sutton’s handsome face.
‘I don’t think I said that. What I did say was I hadn’t been here for about eight weeks. The last time I came here I was with Andrea Lesser to check over any snags, and I remember seeing the toy on her pillow. Miss Lesser said that it went everywhere with Amanda and she always slept with it beside her. It was like a child’s comfort blanket.’
‘This was when you gave over the house keys?’
‘That is correct, but to be certain you should check with Miss Lesser.’
Simon looked to Anna. ‘Did she say if anything was missing?’
Anna shook her head, more intent on seeing if there was anything more to gain from Sutton. He was staring at his own reflection in the large mirror, as if recalling being with Amanda.
‘She was childlike. When I first
met her here, she was very excited. This was quite a rundown property …’
He gestured around the bedroom.
‘To create such a large bedroom, we knocked through two walls and I extended further by a couple of feet into the garden. This was to create as much natural light as possible. Amanda wanted the mirrored wardrobes – in fact, she insisted on them. Not to my taste, but she was the client.’
‘How much did it all cost?’
Again, this was Simon. Anna knew that they could easily find out the exact amount from Miss Lesser; it somehow felt wrong to question Sutton about it. Thankfully, he didn’t seem concerned.
‘The house was gutted and we had to do extensive work to get rid of a lot of structural problems. It’s a very small property, but I think the outcome was around four hundred thousand – and that was without the fabrics and furnishings. I would say the total would be somewhere in the region of three quarters of a million pounds.’
Simon whistled and Sutton gave him a raised eyebrow.
‘You think that’s expensive? Well, when you consider the property is now worth over three million and was bought for seven hundred and fifty thousand, it was an exceptionally good investment. Don’t think when I say Miss Delany was childlike that she didn’t pay close attention to all the accounts. She was an astute businesswoman and bought this place at auction.’
‘But didn’t Miss Lesser oversee everything?’ Anna asked as they walked from the bedroom.
Sutton gave a wry smile. ‘Miss Lesser was Amanda’s agent and she was earning vast sums of money from her, but I sensed that she didn’t like having to check over all the merchandise. Whatever Amanda wanted, she got, and Miss Lesser’s job was to see that she got it, and at a good price.’
‘Did they have a good relationship?’
Again Sutton gave that wry smile. ‘Little Amanda was her golden goose, so she made very sure they had a good relationship. She did not want to lose her client and nor did I, for that matter.’
They let themselves out and crossed to their parked cars.
‘Thank you for coming to meet us here,’ Anna said, shaking Sutton’s hand.
Silent Scream Page 7
