Patrick interrupted, “Perhaps Sarah’s murder will be easier to investigate. Have you talked to the motel staff?”
“Yes, but there are no leads. We talked to the people in the reception area but no one spotted an intruder entering or leaving the motel; there were only the usual motel guests. We also talked to other members of the motel staff, including room service. They heard and saw nothing unusual. There were no strangers in the motel. Sarah and Jeremy had checked in at noon, laughing and seemingly happy. There seemed nothing unusual about them. They stayed in their room for the next couple of hours and ordered room service - fish and chips - which the waiter, Albert, carried into their room. An hour later, he carried back the empty tray. Again, he noticed nothing. According to Albert, the waiters at Rose Motel are trained to be discreet and keep their eyes lowered. Apparently, the couple were talking in a low tone when he entered. The girl seemed quite happy. At around 4 p.m. the receptionist noticed Jeremy going out. He was whistling a tune and returned an hour later loaded with packets. No one went into the room while Sarah was alone. Within a couple of minutes, he screamed, apparently when he’d found the door of his room wide open and Sarah sprawled on the floor. There was a dart lying on the carpet which the police recovered. There were no traces of fingerprints.”
Patrick fidgeted with the paperweight at the table. “So unless Jeremy is lying, the murderer struck between 4:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m. What about the third murder?”
“Michelle was wearing a short navy blue skirt and a white top. She was carrying a simple purse which held a lipstick, some change, and her mobile. Again, her mobile was switched off. She was sitting on a bench when she was struck at 4:00 p.m. and there were plenty of people in the park. However, no one noticed anything suspicious. Her body was discovered by kids playing in the area. Alan - the boy who found her - said they’d seen her sitting on the bench, but that he didn’t notice anything unusual. He doesn’t quite remember when he spotted her lying on the bench, in what he said was ‘a funny way’. He thought that maybe she’d fallen asleep. He touched her to wake her up and she fell. By that time, Michelle was dead.”
Patrick mused, “we’re dealing with a bold murderer who doesn’t hesitate to strike, even in a crowded park in front of everyone. Unfortunately, many people hardly notice anything in these situations, but someone may have. It’s also clear that the murderer was familiar with the lives of his victims; he knew their routine and other details. For example, he knew when Jane left the office to go home. He could, of course, have been following her for some time. The same with Michelle’s case. What is shocking is that he seemed to know about Sarah’s plans to get away and stay in a motel with Jeremy.”
Geoffrey nodded in agreement, “yes, we’re trying to get a low down on everyone close to the victims.”
Patrick again asked, “what about work? There could be a spot of trouble there too. Let’s investigate that angle further.”
“We already have a few facts: Jane was a data operator who had a rather rocky relationship with her boss. On the day of the murder, Jane’s colleague, Gladys, noticed that she was very upset, as her boss, Keith, had ticked her off a number of times. Jane told Gladys that she was sick and tired of Keith’s attitude towards her - he was always finding fault, even where there was none. He definitely seemed to have a grudge against her.
“Sarah was well liked in the department store where she worked. She sold cosmetics over the counter. On Friday, the normally cool Sarah was ruffled. She had exchanged heated words with one of the customers and the manager of the store, Douglas, had to intervene to calm down the irate customer. He then said a few words to Sarah, which left her near tears.
“The third girl, Michelle, worked for Lawson and Sons, a legal firm. One of the cases she was handling was proving to be a tough nut to crack. On Thursday, she had worked late into the night. On Friday, she reported to work, and - according to her colleagues - appeared to be her usual self. She started work, and halfway through the day, complained of a headache and a spell of dizziness. Though she was scheduled to meet an important client later in the day, she cancelled the appointment, took leave, and went home early, just after lunch. At around 3:30 p.m., she was seen by the gatekeeper of her apartment compound, leaving her flat. We know she went to the park but we don’t know if she meant to keep an appointment with someone.”
“What about the murder weapon? It seems rather unusual,” Patrick interjected.
Geoffrey nodded in agreement. “The dart is only around four inches long. It has a sharp, knife-like, poisonous, pointed tip which can easily pierce the skin of any victim. The small dart can simply be carried in the palm of one’s hand or can be flung at the victim from a short distance. The poison is very effective and the victim collapses almost immediately.”
Patrick stared at Geoffrey thoughtfully. “Something like that shouldn’t be too difficult to trace.”
Geoffrey smiled. “My men are already working on it.”
“Well, we have a few leads to work on,” Patrick said. “Put as many men as you can on the case. The murderer has got to be stopped or terror will reign in the town.”
Chapter 3
Carla Carson arrived at the police station panting. She had parked her car at a distance and had walked at a brisk pace to reach the police station, meaning that she was now in a huff. Carla was in her early fifties with partially grey hair, which she refused to colour. She was wearing steel-rimmed spectacles.
She had to do it. She had no other option. It was important. Though she had never visited a police station in her life, she felt excited. What she had to say could make a difference. She had at first thought of taking a friend along, but then had decided to come alone. Maybe it was for the best.
Geoffrey took Carla into Patrick’s office saying, “Patrick, meet Carla Carlson. She insisted on meeting you personally. She says she has something important to say about Michelle’s death.”
Patrick looked at the middle-aged woman. She was wearing a simple tweed skirt and blouse. “I’m Patrick Campbell, the man in charge of the case. You can speak freely here.” He paused, taking in her harassed appearance. “Are you alright? Please feel free to calm down and catch your breath. Then you can tell me what you have to say.”
Carla sank into the plush leather chair with a sigh. “Last Friday, I had taken leave from work - I’d woken up with a splitting headache. I didn’t feel like getting up from my bed. You know, some days you feel so blue that things just don’t go well? I live alone, and I didn’t even feel like making myself a cup of tea. Mind you, I had slept well that night. I have to get eight hours’ sleep, and I do. I never get up late. I’m a stickler for punctuality. I get up at six sharp. No dilly dallying in the bed for me–”
Patrick interrupted. “You haven’t told us where you work.”
Carla struck her forehead. “Oh, how stupid of me! I should have told you right away. I’m a primary school teacher at St. Mary’s High School. You might think the job of a teacher is damn easy, but it's no cakewalk, I can assure you. The little kids can be real pests and turn your life upside down. You won’t believe some of the stories I can tell you. Why, just the other day–”
Patrick interrupted again. “Please, if you don’t mind – we seem to be digressing from the point, Ms Carson. You came to tell us something important.”
Carla flushed. “Of course. I have a bad habit of talking too much. Anyway, where was I? ”
Patrick smiled wryly. “You were in bed with a headache.”
Carla continued. “It was a real bad headache, not my usual kind, so I picked up my mobile. I always keep my phone on the stool near my bed. I like order and discipline - it may be because of my years as a schoolteacher. Anyway, I rang up the school and said I was sick. I remained in bed till around 12 noon, which was rather unusual for me. I hate to loll about in bed so late, doing nothing. I got up then. My headache felt a bit better, though it was still throbbing. I took a quick shower then I mad
e myself a hot cup of tea and toast. By that time, I felt hungry. Then I rummaged in my medicine chest and discovered a strip of painkillers. I always keep them with me. I swallowed one and after washing up the dishes, I went to bed again, where I must have dozed off for a couple of hours, I can’t be sure. By that time, my headache was almost gone and I felt much better. I quickly cleaned up the house and then decided a breath of fresh air would do me good. You get tired of staying cooped in the apartment all day. I got up and brushed my hair, dabbed on some lipstick, grabbed my handbag – I never go out without it – put on my walking shoes and went out. I strolled along the street till I reached the park. I go there after school sometimes - it’s walking distance from my house.”
Patrick interrupted her again. “Where exactly do you live?”
“Rosewood apartments. It’s a pretty fine place – a quiet neighbourhood with no busybodies poking their nose into what doesn’t concern them. The apartments are small but comfortable. Nothing luxurious, though. I can’t afford luxury on a schoolteacher’s salary. I always say one should have enough to make ends meet and something to put away for a rainy day.”
Patrick interrupted. “I’m sorry, but if we could continue with the relevant story? So you said you reached the park?”
Carla flushed again. “I’m sorry for having taken up so much of your time. You must have so many important things to do but I can’t help rambling from the point. As I was saying, I went to the park. It was fairly crowded there; there were children playing, elderly men and women taking a stroll, mothers with their babies, as well as some others. I took a stroll around just looking at things. The fresh air and change of scenery did me good. I spotted her right away. She appeared to be waiting for someone, as she kept looking at her watch. She was sitting on a bench, but completely upright. Now I found that unusual. People generally come to the park to relax and forget about things. When they sit, they generally lean against the back of the bench. You see, I am the observing type. I could make out that she was worried about something. Anyway, I must have taken my eyes off her for the next fifteen to twenty minutes – I can’t be sure. I was lost in my own thoughts and had flopped down on a bench myself. Suddenly I heard screams and a huge commotion on one side of the park. Something seemed to be seriously wrong. I walked over and saw the girl I had observed lying on the ground. Someone said she was dead. I stood there, rooted to the spot - I hate death and blood. For a moment, my mind seemed paralysed. I guess it happens to everyone when they’re faced with sudden death. Anyway, I turned away and then walked towards another bench and sat down. I wanted to get away from that scene, plus, I was feeling bad for the poor girl. At that time, I didn’t know it was murder, though I had seen the blood on her back.
“I went home slowly. There was no use sitting back down on the bench; I kept thinking about the poor girl. I thought it must have been a sudden heart attack - nowadays, even young people get heart attacks. I went home and made a strong cup of coffee. Normally I prefer tea but I was upset and felt the need for coffee. I switched on the news at around 9 p.m. The local channel was full of the girl’s death in the park. They said that it was a case of murder. There was no doubt about it. It was then that it hit me. Sometimes you observe something important and then forget all about it. You may just give it a glance and at that time, it doesn’t strike you as being of any consequence. I thought and thought about it. I spent a sleepless night wondering what to do. You see, I thought I was just being silly and imagining things. But this morning I made up my mind. I wanted to tell what I’d seen to someone as it may have some bearing on the case. I did call a friend to accompany me but she didn’t turn up. Then I decided to be brave and go into the lion’s den. Mind you, it wasn’t easy for me. I am a simple woman and lead a quiet life. So you see…”
Patrick was feeling rather exasperated. Will she never get to the point? His patience was being sorely tested today. Instead of voicing his thoughts, he simply asked, “what exactly did you see?”
Carla replied breathlessly, “I saw a man walking towards the bench that the girl was sitting on just before she died. He may be a murderer and I may be an important witness.”
Patrick was getting excited now. “Can you describe him?”
Carla frowned. “I’ll try, but to be honest, things are rather hazy. All I can say was the man was tall and dressed in casual clothes. I remember he was wearing a green tee shirt. What caught my attention was that he was walking with a stoop; his shoulders were hunched and he was looking at the ground as if lost in thought.”
Patrick smiled at Carla. “Is there anything else you can tell us? If you’re put on the witness stand, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be much more specific.” Carla frowned again. “The witness stand? Well, if you think I’m after publicity, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m not that kind. I simply came here to help you get to the truth.”
Patrick raised his hand. “OK, calm down. Let’s just focus on the man for the time being. Did you observe his features? Can you remember the colour of his hair or anything else?”
Carla seemed to concentrate. “As far as I can remember, he was dark haired. He seemed an ordinary looking guy… nothing very special about him. As far as I can remember, he had a moustache, but I only caught a quick look at him.”
“Did you see him do something, like bend over the girl?”
“No, I can’t honestly say I did. Like I said, I’d taken my eyes off her, but I’m sure that he was heading for the bench where she was sitting.”
Patrick stared at the woman in front of him, taking in the spectacles she was wearing. “Can you tell me the power of your glasses?”
Carla looked slightly affronted. “I assure you I can see perfectly well with the help of these glasses. I have mild myopia up to -3.00 dioptres.”
Patrick leaned back, sighing. “Well, Ms Carson, I appreciate you coming down here today. Thank you for your information; hopefully it will prove to be useful in the case. Unfortunately, as you didn’t see the man actually do anything suspicious, we can’t use it as concrete evidence. Still, if you happen to remember anything else about that day, please give me a call. Any detail could be useful – if he was carrying a bag, for instance.”
Carla smiled. “Thank you, Inspector. I’ll do as you say. I’m sure in my mind that the man was walking towards ... what’s the girl’s name? I forgot. Oh yes, Michelle. Walking towards Michelle’s bench with a purpose. His stride appeared purposeful, that’s the impression I bear in my mind. I’ll go now.” With that, she got up reluctantly and headed for the door. When she was just about to leave the room, she turned, looking back at the Inspector. “I still think what I saw was important in some way.”
After she’d gone, Patrick took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “Whew, what a woman. I thought she would go on and on. Some people don’t know when to stop, do they? Geoffrey, what do you think of her story?”
Geoffrey shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know what to think. Seems to me like she’s the kind of woman who loves to feel important. Maybe she did see something but her description was rather vague; we haven’t much to go on.”
“That’s true. Let's just see how things develop. Anyway, Geoffrey, you and Tim go and have a chat with the men in the case. All three women were young… there are bound to be men involved. Maybe they’ll be able to tell us something.”
Chapter 4
Tim rang the bell of Eric Forester’s home. He lived in a flat in the posh Park Avenue area. The door opened, and a man in his early thirties smiled at them.
“Hi, come in. I’m not usually in at this hour but after I received your call, I thought I should help the police; I’m a dutiful citizen and this is all I can do now for Jane.” He let out a sigh, looking sad. “Poor girl, I don’t even have an inkling how she got into this mess.”
He switched on the lights, giving the two men a chance to take in Eric’s appearance: he was a rather tall, lean man with a creased forehead.
Geoffrey began. “As you know, we’re investigating a murder case and thought that you, being a friend of Jane, would be able to help us.”
Eric frowned. “True, I knew Jane well, but I’m afraid I will be of little help; I was nowhere near the scene when she died. And before you ask the question, I can tell you that at that time I was attending a meeting in my office. You can check with Mr Giles Murphy and five others who were present in the meeting, if you need to. I work with Murphy and Sons as a marketing executive.”
Tim put in, “true, you didn’t meet Jane, but you did call her on the day she died. We have her mobile phone.”
Eric smiled faintly. “How thorough the police are. Well, I have nothing to hide. I was seeing Jane, as you must have found out. On Friday, I rang her up to cancel our date for the weekend, as I was tied up with something else – I had to go out of town to meet a good friend. I could tell from her voice that she was miffed with me, but that was just the way Jane was; she hated to have her plans upset. I thought I’d be able make it up to her some other time.” He shrugged.
Geoffrey asked the next question. “This friend you were about to meet, was it a man or a woman?”
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