“Scheduled for ten,” Ruth answered.
“You look awful. What’s happened?”
“I think I must’ve caught something from being around all those students — or eaten something bad in that canteen of theirs.”
“You didn’t eat though, did you?” He turned back to Imogen. “Have you cracked Patsy’s laptop yet?”
“That one’s not password protected, so it didn’t pose any problems. But it’s the same story — lots from her and virtually nothing from him. But I’ll keep at it.”
“Right — we’d better get down there, Ruth. Is the DCI coming?’
“Yep — if nothing else he’ll want to look as if he actually knows what’s going on. Have you solved the problem of the phone calls, sir?”
“I think I might have. Jo, Zoe’s friend, has a contact in the States — a lieutenant in the NYPD no less. We’re going to Skype when she’s set it up.”
“Impressive. Where’s he based?”
“Queens.” He shrugged. He had no idea where Queens was.
“Serena was from Queens, so this could be a break, sir.”
Calladine doubted that. People in New York wouldn’t have the info from the university or Serena’s friends that they had. At best, all they’d have would be a missing persons report.
“How much do we tell them — the boys from the press?”
“No point in holding back, but we won’t tell them about the mouth thing, not yet. This time they could be a real help. In fact we need a damn good response to whatever they print. Do you have the photos in that folder you’re clutching?”
“I’ve got copies of the e-fit and some photos of Madison taken off her computer.”
“Someone may have seen her with him, so it’s worth circulating.”
“Joanna Johnson has emailed us a good photo of Patsy, and one of Serena, so we’ll give those out as well. We may get lucky, sir. Photos in the papers, a radio shout, and a mention in the local TV news. It all helps.”
* * *
The same faces stared back at them in the room where they had met for a briefing during the Handy Man case. Calladine felt a pang of regret. There was no chance of Lydia being involved this time, none at all. Pity, because he missed her. And she would have been damned helpful.
He sat between Ruth and the DCI and gave an outline of the case. Most of the reporters used voice recorders, but some still scribbled away in their notebooks. Ruth distributed the photos, along with a phone number they and the public could use if they had anything to tell them.
“We’re particularly interested in speaking to anyone who may have seen Patsy Lumis getting off the train on Wednesday night.”
“Will there be more?” a deep male voice boomed out from the rear of the room. “Serial killers like this don’t stop until they’re made to. That’s right, isn’t it, Inspector?”
Calladine shook his head. “The truth is we don’t know. I’ve given you where we’re at currently, and I’d appreciate it if the headlines stick to the facts, ladies and gentlemen. I would like the message underlined to the students in the city, particularly the American ones, and I want people to talk to us. Do your best, please. But I don’t want the local population frightened out of their wits.”
“But there are things you haven’t told us, aren’t there, Inspector?”
He was right, of course he was. It would be foolish to release all the details. Once that happened, every weirdo in the area would be on the phone, confessing. So the mouth thing had to stay out of bounds. For the present at least.
“Irrelevant details that don’t concern the public.” Calladine didn’t fancy the lurid headlines, and there’d be plenty of those once the truth came out.
“DCI Jones, does this have anything to do with the gangland killing earlier this week?”
Jones was taken aback and looked at Calladine, momentarily lost for words.
“No. Nothing at all. That was a quite different matter and is not the concern of this team. It would not be helpful to link the two in your paper.”
The reporter who had asked this was from the Manchester press — a burly individual who worked for the daily. Poor sod must be following that case. Interesting that it had led him here this morning though. Calladine wondered if he knew that Fallon was his cousin. It was not common knowledge but it would be easy enough to find out.
The DCI stood up. He’d had enough. “A word when you’ve done,” he muttered tersely before leaving.
What now? Was it the case, or was it the mention of the shooting that had ruffled his feathers?
After a few more questions, Calladine called a halt and whispered to Ruth, “We’ve given out all we need to for now. We can’t waste any more time here. Let’s crack on.”
“What next? We’ve seen everyone we need to from the university. There’s nothing much else to be had from the laptop for now, so it seems. So perhaps we should bother Julian and Doc Hoyle — see what forensics has uncovered for us.”
Not a bad idea, except that they would have contacted him if they had anything.
“Someone here to see you, sir!” Rocco was smirking as he approached Calladine.
Sitting at the empty desk formerly inhabited by Dodgy, was Alice Bolshaw.
“I hope you don’t mind, Inspector, but I contacted your DCI and he asked me to come in.”
Yes, he damn well did mind. Going above his head like that wasn’t on. If she wanted to work with him then she’d have to learn about teamwork.
“And?” He glowered down at the girl.
“Well . . . he said to come along. He didn’t think my helping could do any harm. And he rushed through all the paperwork.” She shuffled nervously in the chair.
That remained to be seen. Had the man no sense?
“Excuse me, Alice. Wait here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
* * *
“I don’t like these continual references to your cousin, Tom. It leaves a bad taste and causes too much curiosity.” The DCI stood looking out of the window, a glass of water in his hand.
“My view exactly, sir. But I don’t see what I can do about it. The girl — Alice Bolshaw — did you give her permission to join us?”
“You see, the problem is Fallon is giving Central the run around and they’re not happy. Now — because of your entanglement with him they’re starting to lay the blame at my feet.”
“They’re looking for a scapegoat, sir. They’ll get bored and it’ll pass and, as I’ve explained before, I’m not ‘entangled’ with him, as you put it. Now back to Alice—”
“Just make use of the girl for God’s sake. You’re always banging on about not having enough manpower, so stop causing me problems and get on with it.”
He was almost shouting, and his cheeks had turned an unhealthy shade of red. DCI Jones was overwrought and not engaging his brain properly. Alice Bolshaw was barely out of her teens, for God’s sake. What use did he imagine she’d be?
Jones reached for a bottle of pills and emptied two into his palm.
“Got me on bloody tranquilizers, this damn job has. Look at me! Just look at me, man. I’m a mess.”
He wasn’t joking. He did look a mess, but then whose fault was that? Jones was a fool. He’d been foolish to take the job in the first place; he was well out of his depth. And it was beginning to tell.
“Alice Bolshaw was close to one of the murdered girls, sir. It’s not right for her to join the team. She’ll be privy to every detail, and I don’t think that can be helpful in any way at all.”
“I don’t give a toss what you think, DI Calladine. Just do as I say. And don’t answer back. Do you understand?” Jones slammed the glass down on the window sill, shaking with rage. He looked as if he was about to lose it completely, and he reached unsteadily for the edge of his desk. “Get out of here! Go on, piss off and leave me alone.”
Calladine shook his head in disgust and left the office.
* * *
“Right, Alice. It seems you are with
us for a while. Now, I’m going to say this once only. If I see you struggling emotionally with any of this, then I’ll make you leave. Understand?”
The girl nodded her head vigorously and gave him a half smile.
“Familiarise yourself with that.” He pointed to the incident board. “Imogen will give you the background stuff to look through, and then you can help her interrogate the two laptops — the one that belonged to Madison and one that Patsy used. Perhaps you can help identify who’s who among Madison’s photos. You were close; you’ll know who her friends were, and perhaps you’ll recognise some family members.”
“Details went out on the last local radio news, sir.” Rocco looked up from his computer screen. “They’re going to put it out on the hour for the rest of the day.”
“Ruth. You and I will go have a chat with Julian — see if he’s got anything from those soil samples yet. The rest of you — we need to break this — man the phones, anyone volunteers information, then get their address and ring me. Look through everything we’ve got so far — make sure we’ve not missed something.”
* * *
Calladine and Ruth drove out towards Julian’s lab at the hospital. “Jones is a fool. He’s losing it — he’s not coping with the job at all. He offers bugger all, and hardly leaves that office of his, unless it’s to skulk off home early. I tell you, Ruth, if he doesn’t get his finger out soon I’ll go above his head.”
She looked disapproving. “You wouldn’t do that — it’s not your style, sir.”
“No, I suppose I probably wouldn’t. This case is getting to me, and the last bloody straw is having to amuse Alice Bolshaw while we’re up to our eyes in it. You’d think he’d have more sense. I mean, what is she? Nineteen? Twenty?”
“Yes, but you’re forgetting what she’s like. She’s an odd sort, sir. She doesn’t strike me as the sort of young woman who’ll be at all bothered by what she sees or learns about the case.”
“I hope you’re right. I hope she doesn’t turn out to be the squeamish sort.”
“When are you contacting your American friend?”
“Jo will ring me, and then I’ll nip home and Skype him from my laptop. I don’t know what he can offer though, apart from contacting the families of the girls Alice identified.”
“I wonder why he likes American women, sir. There has to be something in that — something more than there being no family close by to come looking for them.”
“Perhaps we should ask Alice. After all, she does want to be a profiler.”
“Seriously, sir. It is a lead — of sorts. Given that he’s a nutter, then the American connection is important. It obviously means something to him.”
“American women, teeth, lips, hanging onto the bodies . . . it makes no sense to me. His behaviour is so atypical.”
“That’s why it’s important. We should look at it all again, analyse what it means. Hanging on to them, for example. That means he’s had somewhere to keep them, even if it’s only the back garden.”
“But not anymore, it would seem, given the way Serena was dumped.”
“So we should be asking ourselves what’s changed. Because something has.”
She had a point.
Chapter 16
“The soil sample from the body is interesting, Inspector.” Julian pushed his spectacles back up his large nose. “It’s very rich in phosphorus — uncommonly so.”
“What’s the significance of that?” Ruth asked.
“Not sure. It could be anything. But I’ll investigate soil types around Leesworth and see if I can find anything similar.”
“Thanks, Julian.”
“Of course there could be a fairly simple explanation.” He peered again through the microscope and fell silent.
Calladine looked at Ruth and sighed with irritation. The forensic scientist was at it again.
“And that is?” Calladine tapped his foot impatiently.
“Fertiliser, Inspector. You’re obviously not a gardener.”
“Looks like I could be right about the bodies having been kept in someone’s backyard, sir.”
“If it was secluded enough and the plants tended — then yes — a garden would do,” Julian added.
“Perhaps he’s moving, got the place up for sale, sir, and that’s why he has to get rid of them.”
“If he’s young, like Rocco thinks, then perhaps the house is being sold from under him — by his parents.”
“Or even his landlord.”
Back to square one.
“Are we really going to have to trawl through all the property for sale in the area? It could take days and get us nowhere.”
Calladine’s mobile rang. “Rocco, what is it?”
“A woman’s rung in. She says she saw Patsy Lumis get off the train at Slaithwaite Station. She’s positive it was her; they’d been discussing her holiday in the USA during the journey,” Rocco reported.
“What have you arranged?”
“I’ve got her address and she’s waiting for you at home.”
“We’ll be back shortly. Have the folder of photos handy; she can have a good look at the ones of Patsy.”
“Right, Ruth, we’re off. Thanks, Julian. We’ll look into what you told us.”
“Before you go, Inspector — I did get a reasonable print off the ear tag. I’ve run it through the database but there’s no match, I’m afraid. However — if you do apprehend someone — then it’s another piece of evidence to fit into the jigsaw.”
“The word is when, Julian, not if.”
“Could be a job for Alice,” Ruth interposed, before the chat between the two men got out of hand. “She could look at the properties for sale in the area — those with gardens big enough — and then we could take a look.”
“Okay — get her on it. But going round to all those properties will be time-consuming. Once we have a list, we’ll keep it in case it proves useful. It’ll keep Alice out of our hair for a while.”
“Hang on just a moment, Inspector. I haven’t told you the very best piece of news yet. I’m getting the CCTV footage from the pub enhanced. I think I might be able to give you a reasonable look at him.”
Now that was a piece of good news. Just like Julian to leave it until last.
Calladine felt a surge of energy. If they could get a good enough photo distributed, they might be able to wind the whole thing up.
“You don’t have to say it, Inspector; the minute I have anything I’ll ring you on your mobile.”
* * *
Back at the nick, Imogen and Alice were engrossed in the two laptops.
“Imogen — carry on with analysing the stuff on the laptops for now, but I’ve got something else for Alice.” He turned to her. “Ring round the estate agents and compile a list of all the properties for sale in Leesworth which have a garden. We’re only interested in gardens with plants — plenty of soil. If they’ve been flagged over or are covered in gravel then you can forget them.”
Someone had to go to Slaithwaite. Calladine checked his watch. He couldn’t afford to miss the call from Jo when it came. Devon DeAngelo worked in a different time zone and he had to be ready.
“Ruth. Rocco. Would you two go and speak to our witness and check out the area around the railway station? I’m waiting here for Jo to call, and then hopefully I can Skype the detective in New York. We’ll reconvene about five. Is that okay with everyone?”
Heads nodded, and Rocco grabbed the folder.
* * *
“She was a lovely girl, so chatty,” Ruby Tunnicliffe told them with a smile. “She made that boring journey into a real pleasure. We talked about all sorts, but particularly about my holiday in Miami last year. She’d been there too — stayed on a yacht, no less, and for a whole month.”
“Did she say who she was meeting that night, Mrs Tunnicliffe?” Ruth asked.
“Well, she didn’t say much, just that he was a new boyfriend, someone she’d met online and only seen a couple of times. I did tell h
er to be careful — I mean you hear such stories, don’t you? Anyway, she would have none of it. Her Jack, that’s what she called him, was the perfect bloke — if such a thing exists.” She rolled her eyes. “But apparently he wasn’t afraid to spend his money, and she seemed to like that.”
“Spend his money on what? Did she say if he’d bought her anything?”
“No, but he’d taken her for some fancy meal in Chinatown earlier in the week. Eaten like a pig, she had — or so she said.”
Ruth looked at Rocco — there were cameras all over that part of town.
“Did she say if they had this meal at night or during the day?” He was hoping to pin the time down and save on all that CCTV watching.
“Lunchtime. Then he took her around the shops, but I don’t recall her saying they’d bought anything.”
“Thanks, Mrs Tunnicliffe. Would you mind coming with us to the railway station and pointing out exactly where he was waiting? We’ll bring you back home afterwards.”
Ten minutes later, Ruby Tunnicliffe was describing the sequence of events.
“He was in a van, a small white van parked just beyond that street light down there. He didn’t get out.” She frowned. “You’d have thought he would have helped her with her stuff; her bag was heavy. We talked for a moment or two — just here on these steps, but he must have been impatient because he tooted his horn. Then she went off. She waved, and then she was gone.”
“And they drove off in that direction? You didn’t see them turn around?” Ruth asked. The bastard was clever. He’d have seen Patsy talking to her and wouldn’t have wanted the woman to get a look at him.
“No — and I would have because I was waiting ten minutes for a taxi.”
The white van again. This was their man alright. Rocco ran Mrs Tunnicliffe home, while Ruth waited outside the station and rang in.
“We’re going to need the CCTV from Chinatown — say the last two days’ worth. Daytime footage. And someone needs to go through it to see if they can spot Patsy. She and our man ate there lunchtime. He spent money — some posh place — and that’s all we know. Also, it sounds very much like the same van. It might be an idea to check those registered to folk in Leesworth, big job or not.”
DEAD SILENT a gripping detective thriller full of suspense Page 12
