Avaline Saddlebags

by Netta Newbound

  “I’ll meet you there, and Dylan…?”

  “Yes?”

  “If the press are camped outside, say nothing. You and I need to work on a carefully worded statement.”

  “No problem. See you in about an hour.”

  I felt like the worst boyfriend in the world abandoning Steve again, but he understood it was the nature of my job.

  After resolving to make it up to him with a dirty weekend away once this case was over with, I kissed him quickly, then rushed out to my car.

  As I drove to the station, my mind replayed the last conversation I had with Kimberley on a loop. I liked her and she hadn’t deserved to die that way. Now, this case had become personal, making me more resolute to catch the animal and put him away for life.

  As I feared, the press were congregated outside the station, waiting in the staff car park, like vultures circling for every scrap they could find.

  I pulled into my parking space and pushed the car door open.

  Cameras flashed. A red-haired female approached, shoving a microphone in my face. “DI Monroe, what can you tell us about the latest victim?”

  My heart sank when I thought of Kimberley lying in a morgue with her head caved in. I pushed the camera away. “No comment,” I grunted, not in the mood to deal with them.

  A man I recognised from the local TV news stepped in front of me. “DI Monroe, is it true you have Darren Wilkes listed as a person of interest?”

  “No comment,” I said once again, side stepping him.

  “Come on detective, there must be something you can tell us?” the red-head said, fishing for the tiniest crumb of information.

  “There will be a statement made in due course, but until then, no further comment.”

  I pulled the station doors open and stepped inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “Get that lot out of the car park, now,” I barked at the desk Sergeant, irritated he’d allowed them to trespass in the first place. “Janine will bust your balls if she drives into that circus.”

  “Sorry, I’ve been snowed under here, but I’ll get rid of them.”

  “You do that and before she gets here—she’s on her way in now.”

  His face paled. “I’m on it. Sorry, sir.” He looked to his left then shouted to a colleague. “Oi, Jane, give me a hand getting shot of this lot will ya? Janine’s on her way in.”

  I grabbed a coffee from the canteen and made my way to the incident room half expecting Will’s head to pop up from behind his monitor and offer a good morning.

  The place was deathly quiet.

  I leaned on Joanna’s desk and looked at the images stuck to the walls—innocent victims, butchered in the prime of their lives because they just wanted to be themselves. It sickened me and I knew the killings would continue, unless I found a way to put a stop to him.

  Lauren popped into my mind. I made a note to call her first thing tomorrow. I had to know if Kimberley suffered, and deep down, I prayed, whatever he had done to her was quick and she hadn’t realised what was coming.

  Janine pushed the doors open, startling me.

  “What a fucking mess—those gobshites have taken over the car park.”

  “I hoped they’d be gone by the time you got here.”

  “They better be by the time we leave or Sergeant Dildo at the front desk will be getting his marching orders.

  I snorted out a laugh. “So, what are we going to say in this statement?”

  “Well, they already know Wilkes is a person of interest, but what they don’t know is, he’s done a runner. We might as well be honest with them, because the shit is going to hit the fan sooner or later and I don’t want to look a fool when it does. If they know what we know, to a certain extent, it will look better when the powers that be come charging in.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “You tell me–we’ve got a serial killer out there, and whether it turns out to be Wilkes or not, people want him caught. I’ve already been fielding calls from my boss today and he never calls on a Sunday unless he wants to tear me a new one.”

  “But we’re doing all we can.”

  “It’s not enough though. You’re working undercover as a bloody drag queen for God’s sake and still nothing.”

  “We need to find Wilkes.”

  “You definitely think it’s him?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “It appears that way.” The truth was, I had my doubts. While I’d been sitting there, staring at the incident board, it suddenly struck me. Wilkes being the killer seemed too easy, somehow. Although every single murder pointed at it being him, my gut told me we were wrong. He was the common denominator, the only one we could find—a drug dealer with a fetish for trannies. It was motive enough, but would it be sufficient to secure a conviction? I didn’t think so, and there hadn’t been a scrap of DNA found on the victims up to now. Lucky? I doubted it, more like somebody who knew what he was doing.

  Janine’s eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t think so?”

  “It certainly appears it’s him. But don’t you think it’s just a little too convenient? Contrived even?”

  “What aren’t you saying, Dylan?”

  “The killer’s smart. Nobody’s seen him coming or going at any of the crime scenes. He’s left nothing for us to go on—no clues of any kind, or DNA evidence.”

  “Means nothing. He could be a clever little bastard who knows what he’s doing. Christ, any fool could commit a crime and get away with it these days. There are enough TV shows that tell them how to do it.”

  “I guess so, but something is niggling me.” I walked to my desk and unlocked it, grabbing the case file for Jade Kelly. I flicked through the autopsy notes. “Hmmm.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  I picked up Gina Elliot’s and read her autopsy findings, then moved onto Rebecca Preston’s. “Lauren notes on each of the autopsies that they were all victims of blunt force trauma to various parts of the body which shows our killer is extremely strong and overpowers his victims quite easily and with little fuss.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “That Wilkes isn’t that tall and yeah, I know he works out, but the first three victims were about five-nine, five-ten, in height, and Wilkes is only five-eight.”

  “So?”

  “I may be totally wrong here but I think our killer is somebody much bigger in size, who is able to overpower his victims much quicker than Wilkes could.”

  “Sounds like you’re reaching to me…”

  “I’ve always had good instincts and right now they’re screaming we’re focusing on the wrong man.”

  “Then why has Wilkes gone missing? If he’s innocent, why run?”

  “Because he knows how bad things will look for him. He’ll have seen the news and would assume he’d be our prime suspect.”

  “I’m not convinced, Dylan. Sometimes two and two do make four, you know? And don’t forget Wilkes car was found abandoned close to the latest victim’s house.”

  “I know, I know. I might be way off the mark and if I am, you can shove me on traffic duties, but something isn’t adding up, something we’re missing that’s right in front of us and we’re not seeing it.”

  “So, are we telling the press Wilkes is just a person of interest and not a fully fledged suspect?”

  “I think we tell them he’s wanted for questioning and leave them to speculate further. The only other thing we can tell them is there was another murder and we believe it to be the same killer.”

  “They’ll want more, you know that.”

  “Tough, they’re not getting any more.”

  “Come on then, you can do the talking, but tell them only what we agreed. Okay?”

  We made our way outside to the front of the station where the press were now camped.

  As soon as the doors opened, they flocked toward us, firing questions.

  “Ladies, gentlemen,” I yelled above the din. “I have a very short statement to make, so if you’d
be so kind as to zip it, I’ll make a start. But before I do, there won’t be any questions answered from myself or anybody else at the station.”

  There was absolute silence as I began to speak.

  I could see how disappointed they were, but they knew as much as we were willing to share.

  Afterwards, we about turned and re-entered the station leaving the reporters behind us. Hopefully, they’d soon get tired and go home, or back to their offices to twist everything I’d said into some semblance of a story.

  I left Janine at the station soon after and battled through the reporters still wanting their pound of flesh.

  On the drive home, I called Steve to see if he fancied lunch in town.

  “Yeah, sounds good to me,” he said.

  “I could do with a couple of drinks, if only to take the edge off my nerves,” I admitted.

  “Okay, I’ll see you when you get back. We can get a taxi so I can have a few drinks too but remember I’m in the office tomorrow.”

  “See you soon.” I ended the call, my mind wandering back to the case files I’d looked through earlier. Something about this whole case niggled at me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

  Thirty-Seven

  Monday morning came around much too fast for my liking. After glugging back a glass of water to combat the dry-mouth-horrors brought on by yesterday’s impromptu drinking session, I raced from the house, eager to get to the station to find out if there had been any news on Wilkes. In the back of my mind, I knew they’d call me if there was, but it didn’t stop me from hoping.

  I pulled up the collar of my jacket and quickly walked around the back of the crowd of reporters camped out on the front steps. I managed to get inside before anyone spotted me.

  “That was a bit of nifty footwork,” Ian, the desk sergeant, said.

  “I know, but I’m not in the mood for that lot. I haven’t had my quota of coffee yet.”

  I heard him chuckling as I let myself in through the security door.

  Will was already at his desk as usual and the rest of the team filtered in over the next half hour. All except Layla. I hadn’t heard from her since I left her house on Saturday, and I hoped my warnings had sunk in but it soon became evident she wasn’t going to call.

  “Can I have your attention please, guys?” I called out to the room.

  A sudden hush followed.

  “Okay. As you’re all no doubt aware, we had another murder on Friday night. Konrad Walker, AKA Kimberley Walker, was attacked in her own home.” I glanced around them all, and each of them nodded their head.

  “I’d actually spent time with her on Friday in Dorothy’s and was present when she was attacked by Wilkes. He was last seen being escorted from the premises and I saw to it that Kimberley was put into a taxi for her own safety. Wilkes’ car was discovered parked up close to Kimberley’s house. Why did he leave it behind? Did something happen to him? Maybe Kimberley fought back and injured him somehow? Or he could’ve dropped his keys somewhere and had no choice but to leave it behind. All but one of the four victims were known to have been intimate with Wilkes at some time or other, so it’s imperative we locate his whereabouts ASAP.”

  “I’m currently in the middle of trawling through the CCTV footage from Friday night-Saturday morning, boss,” Will said.

  “Surely you’ll find something,” I said, scratching my head.

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I’ll scale the search to include a wider area—you never know, something may show.”

  “Thanks, Will. Are any of you working on other leads?”

  Joanna cleared her throat. “I’ve got an appointment to meet Kimberley’s boss at the diner, then I’ll have a chat with her workmates.”

  I nodded, glancing around the others.

  Tommo shuffled in his seat. “I’m currently going back over all the crime scene images, boss. See if there’s anything that jumps out that we may have missed.”

  “Good idea. I’m planning on updating the incident board today for the same reason. As of yet, the killer hasn’t left any DNA or fingerprints at any of the scenes and there’s no reason to believe this latest scene is any different. There’s no hair, footprints, tyre impressions—nothing. I don’t know how he’s doing it, to be honest. However, if Wilkes is our killer, any fingerprints and DNA could be argued in court because he’s been in three out of four victim’s houses multiple times. So we’ll need something conclusive we can pin on him.”

  “He’s a slippery fucker, boss,” Pete said.

  “You’re not wrong. But the fact he publically attacked Kimberley and now he’s gone AWOL works in our favour. We just need to find him—and fast. I know uniform canvassed the area yesterday, but maybe a couple of you can do it again. Take a photo of Wilkes this time and see if anyone can recognise him.”

  “I’ll do it, boss, once I’ve finished here,” Will said.

  “I was informed this morning that Janine has arranged for some cover in the absence of Layla and a Genevieve Tanner will be joining us shortly. Will, can you settle her in please?”

  “Of course. She can even come door knocking with me.”

  “Good idea. Make sure all statements are properly documented, no matter how insignificant you might deem them to be.”

  “Of course,” Will said, appearing a little miffed.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to patronize you but Wilkes has a lot of money at his disposal and can afford the best solicitor so we need everything signed and sealed if we’re going to make any charges stick.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, boss.” He nodded.

  “Jo, can you look into Jemima and Rex Walker—Kimberley’s parents. Something about them seemed off on Saturday. I couldn’t put my finger on what, but do a bit of digging for me, please?”

  “No problem,” Joanna said.

  “Right. Getting back to Kimberley. It appears from the blood spatter on the back of the curtain that the killer was hiding behind it. He’d gained access through the back door, a small window had been smashed and the key had been left in the lock. Drugs found at the scene were similar to the ones Wilkes deals in, yet the packaging was different. Kimberley did tell me she’d ceased contact with him, so maybe she’d found another supplier. Heather, can you access Kimberley’s phone and emails, maybe we can glean something from them?”

  “On it, boss.”

  “Also, we need to nail down the timeline. She left the club in a taxi at around eleven. Can you contact the taxi company and confirm if she went straight home? Did she stop anywhere along the way? Did she pick anyone else up? Did they make small talk? Get everything, no matter how unimportant it might seem.”

  Heather nodded, scribbling in her pad.

  “Why was the cat outside? The neighbour said it was an indoor cat and Kimberley would never let him out. Did the killer let him out? We have the glass from the window being analysed—hopefully when we pick up Wilkes we will find one or two fragments of glass to connect him to the scene. The murder weapon, one of Kimberley’s own knives, had been wielded with such force that… well, need I say any more, the pictures tell their own story.” I held up a gruesome image showing the gaping wound in Kimberley’s skull.

  A collective groan spread around the room.

  “Wilkes is a dead man if we don’t get to him soon. Thanks to the press naming him as a suspect, the trans community will lynch him if they find him before we do so the pressure is on. Good luck team. Let’s get this cleared up this week.”

  There was still no sign of Wilkes by the time I left for home. I was feeling pretty dejected and frustrated with it all by now and was surprised Janine hadn’t been on my case again.

  Thirty-Eight

  I spent Tuesday morning in the station, once again, poring through the case files, positive there was something I was missing. So far, a breakthrough eluded me.

  I looked at my watch–it was gone eleven am.

  “Jo, anything on the Walkers yet?”

  She looked
up from whatever she was reading. “Both are squeaky clean up to now. Mr Walker is listed as managing director of a structural engineering firm on Companies House, while his wife is the company secretary—married for nearly thirty years, with one child. They’re pretty normal folk from what I can see up to now.”

  “Keep looking,” I said. “You never know what could turn up.” I didn’t know what I was hoping to find, and a part of me knew I was clutching at straws.

  “I’m on it.”

  I turned to Will. “Any contact with Layla?”

  “Nothing, boss.”

  “Shit,” I whispered. To my dismay, Monday had passed me by in a blur of activity and I’d meant to call her, but totally forgot. Another day she hadn’t followed procedure, so now, on top of everything else, I had her to worry about.

  “Do you want me to call her?” Joanna offered.

  “No, it’s okay, I’ll pop round there later.” I knew it would be late when I got there because I’d agreed to meet Steve for dinner at Liverpool One. I considered calling in advance but decided against it. She’d just ignore my call anyway. Turning up unannounced would be better. I couldn’t shield her anymore and tonight I’d tell her exactly where she stood.

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  I nodded and looked up as Pete entered the room. “Any sign of Wilkes yet, buddy?”

  “Nothing, boss. He’s just vanished into thin air.”

  “Have you spoken with Nigel Warfield?”

  He looked at me with a blank expression. “Erm…”

  “His solicitor,” I reminded him.

  “Oh, no, sorry. Not yet.”

  “Take a drive down to his office with Heather and see if he’s heard from him. For all we know, he could be hiding Wilkes, especially if he’s paid enough.”

  Pete grabbed the coat from the back of his chair. “Do you really think he’d do that?”

  “He’s a sneaky bastard, so yeah, I think he would.”

  “I’ll call you if I find out anything urgent.”

  “Thanks, Pete.”