Rope Enough (The Romney and Marsh Files Book 1)

by Oliver Tidy

  Strange, thought Romney, what some people considered good news. ‘Where were these traces found?’

  ‘Taken from the victim.’

  ‘So he didn’t use a condom, this time?’ Romney felt some elation at the breakthrough.

  ‘That’s the odd thing. We also recovered traces of the spermicidal that is used by condom manufacturers to coat their products, which implies that he did use a condom, but of course it’s possible that it came off in the act. It happens.’

  The comment surprised Romney. ‘Does it?’

  ‘It does in some cases,’ said the young woman. ‘Under certain circumstances.’

  ‘Right,’ said Romney, not wishing to explore the details of those with her. It was enough for him to know that it had happened.

  ‘I’m going to compare the sample with the saliva sample that we got from the first incident and then I’ll get back to you. But there may not be a match.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Well, it’s possible that the traces we took from the woman aren’t related to the incident. People do have sex, you know?’

  ‘Ah, of course. I see.’ A feeling of awkwardness washed over Romney as things became clear.

  ‘But I thought I’d just let you know how things are proceeding for us.’

  ‘Thanks very much. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.’

  ‘I’ll look forward to talking to you,’ she said and rang off leaving Romney thinking that that was a strange thing for her to say. But at least she was friendlier than the usual miseries who he spoke to down there.

  His phone rang almost immediately.

  ‘Crow here,’ said the Ashford Inspector.

  ‘Hello, Malcolm. How are things going with the Stamp case?’

  ‘Good news and not so good news.’

  ‘Give me the good.’

  ‘We know what vehicle we’re looking for. The paint sample recovered from the dead woman’s clothing is specific to BMW – Mars Red. The not so good news is that there is no record of Simon Avery owning, or ever having owned, a BMW.’

  ‘What about the break in?’

  ‘Nothing. It never ceases to amaze me that a house can be broken into in broad daylight, pulled apart and no one sees or hears a thing; not to mention a woman being run down in the middle of the day and left for dead. Whoever broke in was experienced enough, or just careful enough, to have left no trace of themselves. About all we do have to go on is the fact that these two incidents happened within such a short space of time. There can’t be much doubt that the two are related, which gives us somewhere to start. And brings me back to our Mr Avery. Don’t mind if I refer to him thus, do you?’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Romney. ‘Have as much of him as you like.’

  ‘Is it possible that you can get some of your people to ask around his circle of acquaintances, see if anyone owns a red beamer?’

  ‘I’ll do that. No problem.’

  ‘Thanks. I hear that your plate got a little fuller last night.’

  Romney sighed. ‘It did.’

  ‘Same man?’

  ‘Little to no doubt.’

  ‘Well, Tom, good luck with it. I know how the hierarchy can get over these things. You find out who your friends are, that’s for sure. If you need any help, maybe just someone to run something past, or a fresh pair of eyes to take a look at something, let me know.’

  Romney was touched by his older colleague’s offer. ‘Thanks very much. I’ll bear that in mind.’

  Marsh tapped and put her head around his office door. ‘Mr Logi’s downstairs, sir. Wants a word with you. Only wants to talk with you,’ she elaborated in response to the look Romney gave her. ‘Also, Jane Goddard has been discharged from hospital. I’ve spoken with her husband. They would rather call in here to make her statement. Don’t want the neighbours getting all twitchy and inquisitive at the windows. I get the feeling that they want what happened to her kept as quiet as possible.’

  ‘Understandable, I suppose,’ said Romney. ‘When is she coming in?’

  ‘On their way. I impressed upon them the urgency of her statement. They should be here within the hour.’

  ‘Good. DI Crow at Ashford has just been on to me about the car that ran Helen Stamp down. Apparently, it’s a Mars red BMW. Get a few of our lads to start making some subtle enquiries about whether anyone who makes up part of Avery’s circle of confederates has something like that. And show Mr Logi up will you.’

  *

  Marsh showed Mr Logi into Romney’s office and disappeared to start enquiries about the car.

  Romney noticed that the man looked distinctly uncomfortable. ‘Take a seat, Mr Logi. Something occurred to you about last night?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Logi. He swallowed hard and his brow creased to show his age and the burden he was obviously carrying. ‘It is to do with last night, sort of.’

  Romney gave him time to compose himself.

  ‘I imagine that as a matter of procedure Jane, Mrs Goddard, will be checked for evidence of the attack, for body fluid samples and such like?’

  ‘That is normal with victims of rape,’ said Romney, surprised at the direction that the conversation was taking.

  ‘The thing is, Inspector,’ continued Logi, taking a deep breath, ‘Jane and I have been having an affair for some months. It’s our private business, of course, but in light of what happened last night, I thought that it would be best to volunteer this information.’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure that...,’ began Romney.

  Logi interrupted him. ‘I’m not finished, Inspector. We made love yesterday afternoon. Jane can’t conceive and so we don’t use protection. I’m telling you this because I would suppose that examination of Jane might well reveal evidence of our time together.’

  ‘Ah. I see,’ said Romney. ‘I understand. Does your wife know about this?’ The man shook his head. Romney sighed heavily at the probability that the hope forensics had just given him was to be short-lived. ‘I’m glad you came to see me so soon. As it happens, forensics have been in touch with evidence developments arising from their investigations. We will have to rule you out. You’ll need to provide us with a sample for that. You understand?’

  Logi nodded meekly. The embarrassment of his admission was clearly eating away at the man. ‘Will it be necessary for this to come out?’ he asked, and Romney glimpsed what was probably his overriding reason for being there.

  Romney said, ‘I don’t see why it should. Not from us anyway.’ Who was he to judge the man? he thought. There could be many reasons why he would be sleeping with the help and none of them would be his, or police, business. ‘It would be best if we got it done sooner rather than later. I can get someone to take you down to forensics now, if you’ve time?’

  ‘I’d like to do it now.’

  Romney buzzed through to the squad room for Marsh. Logi was shown to a chair outside to spare his embarrassment, while the DI explained things to his sergeant. Marsh emerged shortly afterwards and led Mr Logi away to further humiliation and shame.

  Romney called down to the forensic laboratory. Diane Hodge answered the phone. When Romney identified himself she assumed a brightness that he found disconcerting.

  ‘Hello again, Inspector.’

  ‘I’m sending down a man with my sergeant. I’d like you to organise the taking of a sample from him in order that he might be eliminated from our enquiries regarding last night’s assault at the care home. He’s not a suspect by the way. It’s likely the evidence you recovered is from him.’

  ‘Oh,’ said the disappointed sounding forensic scientist. ‘That would be a shame, from the investigation side of things, I mean.’

  Romney had just got himself a coffee when the desk sergeant called up to let him know that Mr and Mrs Goddard were at reception. He told the officer to have them shown through to an interview room and furnished with the best coffee and biscuits that could be found. He rang back down to forensics and organised for Marsh to meet h
im in the interview rooms.

  In interview room one Romney found Mrs Goddard sitting in silence with a female PC. Mr Goddard was nowhere to be seen. Despite a lack of make-up and her understandably sombre expression, Mrs Goddard was a good looking woman, decided Romney, not needing to give it much thought. She looked anxious, upset and troubled, as she was entitled to. Marsh entered. Introductions were made.

  ‘I understood that your husband was also here?’ said Romney.

  The woman pursed her lips in a sad smile. ‘He’s not dealing with this very well. We thought it best if he went for a walk.’

  ‘I see. Well, thank you for agreeing to get this over with so quickly. It could be a great help to us.’

  Romney was struck by the difference between this woman and Claire Stamp. Stamp had appeared far more philosophical regarding what had happened to her, almost to the point of indifference, while across the table from him Jane Goddard appeared as a crumpled being with the life crushed out of her. But maybe he’d been wrong about Stamp. Maybe it had been a false bravado, a facade. Maybe what happened to her had pushed her to take her own life, after all. He pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to believe that.

  ‘I understand it will be unpleasant for you to have revisit and relate the details of last night, Mrs Goddard, but as I’m sure you can appreciate it is vital for our investigation if we are to have a chance of catching this man. Every detail you can remember – no matter how small – we want you to voice it. We’ll decide what’s relevant.’

  Marsh organised the recording equipment Before she could turn it on Romney stopped her. ‘Mrs Goddard, before we start recording, I think you should know that Mr Logi has been in to see me. He explained to me the situation that exists between you two.’ The woman flushed a deep crimson. ‘He only did this because he knew that we would need to take samples from you after what happened and he felt that there was a chance there might be something of him in evidence that could confuse our investigation. I wouldn’t want that additional burden to be causing you added anxiety.’ She nodded and reached into her handbag for tissues. ‘Would you like some time, Mrs Goddard?’

  ‘No, thank you. Will it come out, about Clive and me, I mean?’

  ‘As I told Mr Logi, I can’t see any reason why that information should need to.’ She seemed relieved. ‘We’ll start the tape then, all right?’ She nodded again. ‘Like I said: every single detail you can remember. We’ve spoken to Peter Roper this morning. He told us that you heard a noise and that he went to investigate. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes. We were in the kitchen. I’m not sure of the time. Between eleven and twelve. I thought I heard a noise downstairs and Peter offered to go and see what it was. He was gone about two minutes, I suppose. He came back being pushed into the kitchen by a man dressed in black carrying a gun. I couldn’t see anything of his face. He was wearing a mask. Balaclava type thing. It all happened very quickly. He told me to turn away so that I wasn’t looking at him. He made Peter tie my ankles to the table legs then he pushed me down on the table and Peter tied my wrists to the table too. Next thing I knew a hood was put over my head. I couldn’t see anything after that. I remember starting to cry and he stuck something sharp into me. He threatened to cut me if I made noise. I suppose that’s when he knocked Peter out. I heard him grunt and fall to the floor.’ The woman stopped and seemed to be struggling to gather her composure for what she was about to say.

  ‘It went very quiet. Maybe it was just because I had the hood on. It was very thick and hot and disorientating. I wondered if maybe he had left the room. Then I felt his hands on me.’ She dabbed at the tears that, prompted by the recollection, began to flow. ‘He wasn’t rough with me. It was like he knew he had as much time as he wanted. He touched me a lot, just running his hands over me before he even stripped me. It seems strange but it was almost like fore-play. He was getting off on it. I imagined that to be raped would be a violent and painful thing. But it wasn’t.’ Her tears had stopped. ‘He cut my clothes away, but even that was gently done. He was very careful. It was like he didn’t want to hurt me more than he had to.’ She looked at the officers with her red, puffy eyes. ‘Do you want details of what he did to me then?’

  Romney said, ‘Anything you can remember. Any detail that could help us to catch this man.’

  ‘He took his time. He used his fingers first. The most perverted thing about it is that I think he was actually treating me like a lover, not just a piece of flesh. It was like he was trying to get me in the mood. Like he wanted me to enjoy it. How sick is that? How could he imagine that I could ever enjoy being bound to a table by a complete stranger, raped and enjoy it? How could he be that deluded?’ There was no answer that either officer could offer. ‘Eventually, he forced himself on me. He took his time. It was just like he was making love to me in his sick mind. It was the most horrible, disgusting experience of my life.’

  ‘Did he wear a condom?’

  ‘Yes.’ She looked up at Romney. ‘There’s something else. He didn’t ejaculate inside me. When he got near he pulled himself out and finished himself on my backside.’

  ‘You are absolutely positive about that?’ said Romney, wanting to ask her how she could be sure, but unable to.

  She nodded. ‘When he’d done, he cleaned me up – washed himself off me. He was a bit rougher then. He’d had his fun, lived out his fantasy.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Romney. ‘I understand how hard that must have been for you to remember. When he spoke, did you notice anything unusual?’

  ‘He had an accent. Like the immigrants in the town.’

  ‘Could it have been put on?’

  ‘Yes, it could. It crossed my mind. I don’t think that he was very old. There was something about the quality of his voice. He didn’t say a lot and I wasn’t really concentrating on his speech, but I remember thinking that he wasn’t old.’

  ‘Anything else that you remember?’

  ‘He might have taken pictures. I heard something that sounded like a camera.’

  ‘Can you describe the sound?’

  ‘It was electronic.’

  ‘Would you recognise the sound if you heard it again?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  Romney paused the tape and sent Marsh to bring Claire Stamp’s phone to the interview room. When she returned they demonstrated the camera function.

  ‘It could be,’ said Mrs Goddard. ‘I can’t be sure.’

  ‘Are you aware of the incident that took place at the petrol station on Crabble Hill, last week?’

  ‘I heard about it. Why?’

  ‘From what you’ve told us we have good reason to believe that the man who attacked you is the same one that carried out that attack.’

  ‘Someone was raped? I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Yes, in very much the same circumstances you’ve described.’

  ‘Oh God,’ she breathed. ‘How is she?’

  ‘She’s dead,’ said Romney, and instantly regretted the disclosure. Jane Goddard put her hand to her mouth, her eyes widened. ‘She fell from a high building the following day.’

  ‘She killed herself?’

  ‘It seems so,’ said Romney, with a white lie.

  ‘Oh my God. The poor cow.’

  ‘Mrs Goddard, because of the similarities in the attacks, I have to tell you something else,’ said Romney. ‘But, before I do, I want to impress upon you that you must not discuss what I’m about to tell you or indeed anything else I’ve told you about the similarities of yours and the other attack. We can’t afford to have details of the investigation made common knowledge. They could be how we can catch him.’

  ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘What else?’

  ‘Soon after the other victim was attacked she received photographic messages sent to her mobile phone. The images were of the rape. He might not have finished with you. You need to know that you might receive such images. You need to be prepared for that. You also need to contact us immediately if you do. Don’
t delete them. It could provide crucial evidence for our investigation.’ The news had a physical effect on the woman.

  ‘We can have your phone’s SIM card if you would like us to?’ said Marsh. ‘We could arrange a new one with your service provider – a new number that you could forward on to your contacts so that you don’t have to see them if he chooses to send the images to you.’

  ‘How would he get my number?’

  ‘He might not. We don’t know if he can, or if he will, or even if he would send images to you. But you need to be prepared.’

  ‘I’ll keep my SIM card,’ she said. ‘If he sends anything, I want to have control of it.’

  ‘But you will alert us, Mrs Goddard?’ said Romney. ‘I’m sorry, but it is essential.’

  ‘I’ll tell you.’

  The tape was stopped. As she had done with Claire Stamp, Marsh offered Mrs Goddard her card with her personal contact details. They discussed the availability of counselling, but Mrs Goddard politely declined. She told them she had arranged to meet her husband in a coffee shop in the town. Both Marsh and Romney walked her to the front reception.

  As they entered the station’s main entrance lobby they met Mr Logi, who was being shown out by an officer after having provided his sample. There was a moment as the four of them stood there people coming and going around them oblivious to the tableau of awkwardness. Logi wore a pained expression. There was something horribly sad in the look he gave the woman. Romney and Marsh excused themselves, leaving the pair to what few words it looked like they had for each other.

  As they made their way back upstairs to CID, Marsh said, ‘Do you think he will send her images?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Romney. ‘I’m hoping for the best but fearing the worst. I appreciate how traumatic that would be for her, but, if he sends her images, it could provide us with a firm link between the two, something to provide a lead to his identity. He would have to have knowledge of, or a contact with, them both.’

  *

  ‘Her description of the rape was odd, particularly when you compare it to the description that Claire Stamp gave us,’ said Marsh, as they sat in Romney’s office. ‘Stamp said it was over quickly. Goddard made it sound like he was making love to her. He took his time and was trying to get her in the mood. And the way that it finished. It just doesn’t sound like the same man.’