Stalker on the Fens
Page 7
Nikki really didn’t want to have to talk to Helen with all the others around, but what could she say? ‘Of course. Ask for me at the front desk and I’ll come down and get you.’
‘Thanks, Nikki. I really appreciate it, and Nik?’ There was a pause. ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’
Nikki bit her lip. ‘Of course, I do. Now go have a long soak in the tub and I’ll see you later.’
There was the sound of a long exhale of breath. ‘Yes. Would ten o’clock be good for you?’
‘Perfect. See you then.’
* * *
The nine o’clock squad briefing in the CID office took longer than Nikki had anticipated and then, to make matters worse, she was handed a memo asking her to go directly to see the superintendent. ‘Helen will be here in five minutes,’ she whispered urgently to Joseph. ‘And heaven knows how long the super will take. I saw the ACC going into the lift earlier so I’m probably going to get an ear-bashing from him too.’
‘Would you like me to go and see to her?’ he offered.
‘I think she wants to talk to me about Andrew, as well as this latest flashback. I can’t let her down, not after what Andrew’s done. I get the feeling I’m her only support right now.’
‘Then as soon as she gets here, go tell her what has happened, and say that you’ll drive over to her place as soon as you are free.’
She nodded, ‘Yes, that’s best. At least I’ll have explained it to her face, and she’ll know I’m not just putting her off.’
‘I can finish off here. You get yourself downstairs and see her as soon as she arrives.’
‘Ma’am?’ Sheila Roberts passed her another memo. ‘It’s from the pathologist. He says can you ring him as ASAP. It’s important.’
Nikki heart sank. ‘Oh, this just gets better and better.’
Joseph raised an eyebrow. ‘It never rains, huh? Go see your friend first.’
Nikki got to the bottom of the stairs just as Helen was walking through the front doors. Her face lit up when she saw Nikki, which made her feel even more of a rat than she had before. ‘I am so sorry, Helen.’ She drew her away from the desk to a quiet spot in the waiting area. ‘Things have gone totally tits up here.’
‘I was wrong to come when you are working. I—’
‘This isn’t your fault, Helen. You have a case running with us, and you have every right to be here.’ She placed her hand over Helen’s. ‘Joseph could talk to you, or any of the others on the team, but I thought this was something you would want to discuss with me personally.’
‘It is. Of course it is.’ Helen looked close to tears.
‘Look, it’s clearly going to be a cow of a day. How about instead of me trying to escape and getting held up again, I finish early, pick up a takeaway and a bottle of wine and we make an evening of it? We can talk all night if you want.’
Helen visibly brightened. ‘Oh yes, that would be lovely. And don’t tie yourself to a time, just get there when you can. I really look forward to having a proper talk. I’ve got to offload about Andrew. He’s worrying the life out of me!’
‘You can bare your soul, my friend. I’ll be there to listen.’
Helen leant forward and gave her a tight hug. ‘Thank you, Nikki. I can’t tell you how good it is to have someone to trust.’ And then she stood up and walked towards the doors. ‘Tonight. See you then.’
She waved and disappeared, and for some reason Nikki felt a lump forming in her throat. Helen was the kind of woman who helped everybody. She went the extra mile for her clients — fitted them in when she had no free bookings, went to their homes if they couldn’t get to her. In other words, she cared. Now she herself needed help, and all she had was one overworked copper and a useless boyfriend.
As she ran up the stairs to the superintendent’s office, Nikki thought that sometimes life really was a bummer.
Just as she was about to knock on the door she heard footsteps behind her and heard Joseph call her name.
‘Before you get embroiled with the super, I thought you should see this.’ He handed her a printout. ‘I didn’t think you’d get the chance to speak to the pathologist, so I rang and said you were in a meeting. It’s about the body in the river, ma’am, and it makes interesting reading.’
Nikki scanned it quickly and groaned. ‘Ah, so this is not going to be a simple case after all.’
‘’Fraid not. Someone seems to have gone to great lengths to make this look like another gang-related death. Rory Wilkinson said he was coming this way later this morning and he’ll fill us in on the details when he sees us.’ He turned to go. ‘And good luck in there, ma’am.’
Nikki raised her eyes in exasperation. ‘I can hardly wait. If it’s another lecture on statistics or Home Office updates on performance indicators, I’ll scream.’
‘Right, I’ll listen out.’ Joseph grinned and ran back down the stairs.
Wishing she were somewhere else, Nikki knocked on the door and went inside.
* * *
Joseph was sitting talking to the pathologist when Nikki arrived back in the CID room. They both looked up as she entered. Things had clearly not gone smoothly.
‘Bloody waste of time! I know we are facing amalgamation with other divisions! I know we are cutting squad numbers and uniform are going out single-crewed! Aagh!’
Professor Rory Wilkinson pulled up another chair and pointed at it. ‘A good rant does wonders for the spleen, dear heart. Rest your weary body and calm your mind. Uncle Rory has a charming tale of villainous tyranny to tell you.’
Nikki found herself smiling. Their inimitable Home Office pathologist was a real one-off, and he never failed to amuse her. He was a far cry from the miserable, whisky-swilling old windbag that had preceded him. Rory was unashamedly out and proud. In fact he celebrated his good fortune in being born that way on every possible occasion. He revelled in black humour, but Nikki and her team knew it was a veneer. Rory treated each one of his “guests” in the mortuary to every care and consideration. He was also extraordinarily intelligent.
‘Now that dear Joseph has provided the coffees, I will begin.’ Rory pushed his wire-rimmed glasses further up his hawk-like nose and smiled benignly at them. ‘The moment I saw him I suspected that our Lithuanian friend, Mr Arturas Kubilius, was not the person his identity card proclaimed him to be. Nothing about his colouring or his physiognomy was typically Eastern European. And as soon as I opened his mouth and saw some very expensive orthodontic work, I was convinced. I have checked the ID that was found on him, and Mr Kubilius is a bona fide, legal immigrant. He was a farmer’s son from a village just outside Kretinga, a city in western Lithuania. He works, and probably still does, as he is certainly not the dead man in my fridge, on the land as a field worker. My frozen guest has no calluses, no broken nails and no weathered skin.’ He held out his hands, palms up. ‘You need any more evidence?’
Joseph grinned. ‘I’d like something that says who he is, rather than who he isn’t.’
‘Well, as soon as his DNA profile comes back, we’ll run it through the databases, and I’ll let you have the results the moment I get them.’
‘How did he die, Prof?’ asked Nikki.
‘Stabbed. A single very deep wound to the back. The blade penetrated his body, slid between the ribs, to the side of the spinal column, and pierced the arch of the aorta. Goodnight Vienna.’
Nikki frowned. ‘That sounds far too precise to be a lucky strike. Would you say it was carried out by a professional hitman?’
‘Someone certainly knew what they were doing, but that doesn’t make them a contract killer. The killer could be trained in a dozen things that would give him a knowledge of anatomy. Doctors, surgeons, physios, vets, butchers, undertakers, oh yes, and pathologists.’
Joseph made a grunting noise. ‘And not just those, there’s the military too.’ As a former special services operative, Joseph had first-hand knowledge of what the military taught their men in the way of killing proficiently and silently.
 
; Nikki yawned. ‘Or just possibly, that lucky stab in the dark.’
Rory nodded. ‘It has been known, although I doubt it. Stab wounds are funny things. In this case the blade was very long and thin, but it was removed at a different slant to the angle of entry. I found a distorted L-shaped wound, and what does that tells us, kiddies?’
Joseph exhaled. ‘He twisted it.’
‘Gold star, young Joseph! Yes, he made sure that the aorta was severely damaged. He was taking no chances.’
Nikki closed her eyes, but all she saw was Helen waving to her as she crossed the entrance lobby. She knew that she should be worrying about this unidentified body, but when her friend’s life was in such a state of turmoil, it was difficult to concentrate. With a great effort she dragged her mind back to the job in hand. ‘So, we have a man with bogus ID on him. Did he steal it, or was it placed on him after death? And if so, why?’
Rory held up his hand. ‘One pointer, if I may? He had nothing else on him of importance, and nothing personal. No jewellery, no watch, no phone. I found only two other items in his clothing, something I think might have been an old business card that had been left in a trouser pocket when it went into the wash, and a small round piece of stone of some kind, possibly a form of agate or jasper. The kind you might pick up off the beach for good luck.’
Neither officer made the obvious comment.
‘Then I would say that those items were overlooked. His own wallet, watch etc., were removed and the bogus ID put in their place,’ said Joseph. ‘Someone didn’t want this man’s real identity known.’
‘I think dumping him in the river adds to that supposition. Immersion for long periods plays havoc with human flesh, and don’t we all know that for a fact.’
Nikki grimaced. ‘Okay, Joseph. As we agreed, this one is yours. Bring Dave and Cat up to speed on what you know, and find out who our mystery man is.’
‘Simple as that. Oh goody.’
Nikki stood up. ‘I have great faith in your powers of deduction. And right now I have a desk full of crap to deal with for the superintendent, and if the whole of Greenborough riots tonight, it can do it without me, because no way will I let Helen down again. I’m leaving at five, and that’s an end to it.’
‘Me too. If that’s okay, ma’am? I’ve been summoned by my daughter to meet her in Downham Market for dinner this evening. She wants to discuss something of dire importance. Don’t ask me what it is, but it probably involves me coughing up wads of money.’ He grinned at her.
Nikki smiled back. Tamsin and her father had finally made peace after a very long war, and she knew that Joseph had never been happier. ‘Go spend your well-earned pennies on your lovely daughter, and give her my love, won’t you?’
Joseph nodded. ‘Of course I will. Hopefully she’ll be coming up here the weekend after next, but she’s working in the Thetford Forest on some project, and she can’t get away any earlier.’
‘Then enjoy your dinner.’
As Nikki returned to her office she decided that no matter what Tamsin wanted to discuss, it wouldn’t be nearly as draining as the conversation that she and Helen would be having that night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She bought a bottle of Sauvignon in the local off-licence and picked up a Chinese takeaway from a restaurant near Helen’s.
As she parked the car close to the side of the house, she prayed that her friend would not be too intense. She loved her to pieces but couldn’t help feeling slightly uneasy about her flashbacks. She hoped she would get an opportunity to tactfully suggest that Helen saw her neurologist again. Nikki felt sure that professional help was essential to help her understand what was happening to her. And perhaps she should push her a little harder about staying at Cloud Cottage Farm until Andrew got back from his trip. Maybe a complete change of scenery, somewhere far away from the Westland Waterway would ease her fear of being watched.
She pulled the brown paper bags from the passenger footwell and locked the car. Yes, she’d ask her again. It would be company for her, and she was sure that being on Cloud Fen would help Helen chill out and relax.
Helen did not answer the door on the first ring, but Nikki knew that her damaged leg slowed her down sometimes, so she waited a while before ringing again.
When she still didn’t open the door, Nikki felt a ripple of concern slide across her shoulder blades. Was she having another one of those damned attacks? Or worse than that, had Nikki underestimated just how disturbed and upset Helen really was? Had she done something really stupid? Dropping the bags on the step, she pulled out her phone and dialled Helen’s home number. From her position outside the front door she could clearly hear it ringing, but after a short while the answerphone cut in.
Suddenly the evening seemed to have become several degrees colder. Nikki took a deep breath. The problem with being a copper was that you immediately thought the worst. There were still a few other scenarios to consider. Helen could have forgotten their arrangement, but Nikki didn’t believe that for one moment. Helen could have fallen asleep, and that was a possibility. Or she could be in the bathroom and not have heard the door or the phone, which was highly improbable.
Nikki decided to try Helen’s mobile. After a moment the line connected, but to her dismay she heard the distant sound of a tinny musical call tune coming from the lounge. She moved to the window and through a gap in the curtains, saw the cell phone lying on the coffee table, the coloured display panel blinking with a soft green light as it waited to be answered.
Abandoning the bags at the door, Nikki ran down the steps and around to the back of the house. The back garden was in darkness and as she rushed through the side gate she saw that the conservatory blinds had been pulled down. She never shut them of an evening, Nikki knew. She liked to look out over the pool and the garden.
Nikki’s throat felt parched and her heart hammered against her ribcage. She tried the conservatory door, but it was locked and she could see the key sitting where it always sat, on the windowsill. Then she knocked on the glass, loudly enough to be heard half a mile away. ‘Helen! Helen! Can you hear me?’ She rattled the door handle, then stood back and looked up as a window was roughly pushed open in the flat above, and a surprised face looked out.
‘Police.’ She drew out her warrant card and held it up above her head. ‘Have you seen Miss Brook this evening?’
The man looked confused. ‘No, but I rarely do. These apartments are pretty much separate, we have no communal areas. Sorry.’
‘Okay, thanks. Does anyone keep a key for her? You know, for emergencies, to water the plants or something?’
‘No, she’s not been here very long, so we don’t know her that well. If it helps, I saw a locksmith’s van out here late yesterday.’
Nikki cursed. For once in his life Andrew had actually managed to do something when he said he would, damn him. Oh well, there was nothing left for it. She told the man to go back in, and as soon as he had disappeared, she picked up a big chunk of decorative rock from the side of the pool, and smashed it into the half-glazed conservatory door.
The second hit dislodged a section of glass, leaving an uneven hole. Nikki reached into her pocket and pulled out a protective glove, hastily pulling it on before reaching inside and locating the key. Finally, slipping the key into the lock, she pushed on the shattered door, offered a silent apology to her friend for the damage she’d caused, and stepped into the darkness.
In someone’s garden, a few doors away, a wind chime rang out. Other than that all was silent in the big house on Westland Waterway. Nikki stood for a moment in the darkness, trying to get her bearings. She thought that the light switches were to the left. She edged sideways, her shoes crunching in the broken glass, and ran her hand along the cold glass until her fingers encountered the rougher surface of the wall, and then the switch. She turned on the lights, and blinked a few times. The conservatory was exactly as it had been when she visited last. The plants still looked healthy and the bowls of crystals were
undisturbed. Everything seemed as it should be.
The only thing that was terribly wrong was the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Nikki forced her heavy feet to move carefully forward toward the wide steps that led down into the garden room. Her heart screamed at her to run inside, to shout out to her friend, but her head and her gut knew it was pointless. There was something about the total silence that told her that no living person other than her, was in that house. But of course that did not mean she was alone there.
The light from the conservatory made the big area look dim and shadowy, but Nikki did not need any more illumination to see that the folding screen had been pulled around to hide the massage table.
Without taking another step, she knew that she should have taken her friend’s terrified condition a lot more seriously than she had. The cloying, coppery, metallic smell of blood hung heavy in the previously oil-scented air.
With her heart hammering insanely, Nikki moved across the room, then took a deep breath and looked around the screen.
Her cry went unheard. The only other occupant of that room could hear nothing. She never would again.
Fighting the rising nausea, Nikki staggered back from the screen, then ran clumsily up the steps to the welcome light of the conservatory. She threw open the damaged door and drew in great gulps of the cold night air, before fumbling in her bag for her phone. She knew she had to follow protocol, but all she really wanted to do was call Joseph. But she couldn’t. He was miles away in Norfolk with his daughter. After dropping it twice, she finally managed to steady herself enough to be able to ring Greenborough police station.
* * *
The wind chimes still disturbed the peaceful evening with their clamour, but now they were joined by the harsh sound of sirens.
Nikki stood at the bottom of the steps with her back to the entrance to the garden room. She was upright and stony faced. Inside she felt about as cold as the light reflected in her pale eyes.
Her voice was steady. ‘The scene is uncontaminated, Superintendent Woodhall. I entered, found the body of Helen Brook, and left immediately by the same route. No one has approached her since. With respect, sir, after the doctor, I want Professor Rory Wilkinson to be the first to go in. We can’t afford to contaminate anything. This is no ordinary murder.’