Bad Moon Rising (#1 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  Paolo pulled his hand free. “Matthew, do what the hell you like. You know as well as I do that I had no choice about coming here.” He turned to Dave. “Come on, let’s go. We’re keeping Mr Roberts from his social engagement.”

  They walked to the lift in silence and didn’t speak until they’d reached the ground floor. As the lift doors opened and they stepped out Paolo pointed over to the security alcove.

  “We’d better check with him about Matthew Roberts’ movements on the Saturday before last, but I bet he confirms what Roberts had to say.”

  He was right. The man checked his register. Matthew hadn’t left the building that night.

  They thanked him and left. As they walked towards the car, Dave turned to Paolo.

  “St Swithins’ old boys?”

  “Yeah, I went to school with Matthew and Frank Azzopardi.”

  “You’ve never mentioned it before.”

  “Dave, there’s lots of stuff in my life I haven’t mentioned. If it isn’t important to the case, then it isn’t worth bringing up.”

  “Is that why you hate Azzopardi? Something left over from your schooldays?”

  Paolo stopped walking and turned to Dave. “I hate Azzopardi because he’s the worst kind of garbage. He uses other people as if he owns them, as if they have no value as human beings, only as his chattels. And before you ask, I hate Matthew Roberts because he knows what Frank is, has always known since we were boys, but he defends him and makes him out to be the victim of injustice. Now, if you want to make something of that, fine. No doubt the chief will feel the same way tomorrow after Matthew visits him.”

  Paolo’s anger, which had been bubbling under the surface all day, suddenly erupted and he turned on his heels and strode off. He only realised Dave wasn’t keeping up when he’d almost reached the parking bay. He stopped and looked back. Dave swayed as though a strong wind would blow him over. Paolo strode back towards him.

  “Jesus, Dave, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my temper out on you. How’s the back? You don’t look good at all. Come on, let’s get you home.”

  He helped Dave into the passenger side and closed the door. As he got in and settled himself behind the wheel his mind went back to Dave’s words. Were they true? Was there something in his subconscious that made him want to take Azzopardi down that had nothing to do with the man’s crimes? He certainly hoped not, but how could he be certain?

  He put the key in the ignition and started the car. As he backed out of the space, Dave interrupted his musings.

  “Didn’t you think that was pretty weird?”

  “Think what was weird?”

  Dave fidgeted, obviously trying to find a more comfortable position. “Offering to give a DNA sample. Most members of the public freak if you ask for one, yet Matthew Roberts offers without even being asked. I just found it a bit weird.”

  Paolo nodded. “It’s odd, I agree, but what’s the betting that by the time he’s spoken to the chief that he’ll be saying I demanded one? I felt that he’d played me somehow and I couldn’t put my finger on what he’d done, but as soon as he said he was going to call in on your uncle, I realised he’d stitched me up. Still, once we’ve eliminated him, we’ll be able to concentrate on the Matthew Roberts look-alike who really did drive off with that poor girl.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Paolo stood in front of Chief Constable Willows and stared at the carpet. The words washed over him in angry waves, but he knew the chief would run out of steam soon and then he’d get his chance to put his side of things. It seemed that Matthew hadn’t let this opportunity go to waste. Paolo heard the slant Matthew had put on the interview and wasn’t surprised the chief was almost apoplectic. From the way the chief was raging, Matthew must have put across the worst possible interpretation of the interview and then added in a bit of spin just to make sure Paolo would get hammered. If he’d wanted Paolo to be chewed over and spat out in tiny bits then he’d achieved his desire.

  “And then to ask for a DNA sample on the flimsiest of evidence. What were you thinking, Paolo? Or weren’t you thinking? Matthew Roberts seems to feel you have moved your vendetta to him personally, now that Frank Azzopardi is out of the picture.”

  Paolo fixed on the final sentence. “Out of the picture, sir? Last I heard he was recovering.”

  “Apparently he had a serious setback over the weekend and has slipped into a coma. It’s touch and go whether or not he’s going to make it. No doubt we’ll be seeing some takeover fallout over the next few weeks, but that is neither here nor there at the moment. What on earth made you demand a DNA sample from someone you know hates the force?”

  “Sir, I didn’t demand it. I didn’t even ask for it. We went to see him as a result of a witness saying she’d seen him driving off with a victim. And she wouldn’t be budged from that, sir. She swears that’s who she saw. What would you have had me do, sir? Ignore the evidence because it led to someone we don’t want to upset?”

  Willows sighed. “No, of course not, but you’ve given Roberts plenty of ammunition for his next round of television appearances. Unless you have good reason, and by that I mean a reason I would find good, stay away from him, Paolo.”

  “Yes, sir,” Paolo said. “Was there anything else?”

  The chief smiled. “Not this morning, Paolo, but who knows, by this afternoon you might have managed to upset the mayor if you work hard enough.”

  Paolo laughed. “He isn’t on my list of people to annoy, sir, but I can add him if you want.”

  “Not today, Paolo, but I’ll let you know if I change my mind,” he said and picked up a file.

  Realising he’d been dismissed, Paolo turned and left. He kept his anger under control until he’d reached the safety of his office and then, shutting the door behind him, he leaned against it. He could almost understand why some cops fabricated evidence against people they knew were guilty. Right at that moment, if he could have found a way for Matthew to spend a few weeks behind bars he’d have been very tempted. Not because Paolo felt Matthew was guilty of any crime, but he sure as hell was guilty of being a first-class prick.

  Eventually his temper calmed and he moved away from the door. As he walked around his desk he spotted the photofit picture that Warren had made up of Matthew. Even though it was just a drawing, the likeness was unmistakeable. Paolo started to laugh. Matthew Roberts was going to have a fit when he saw his face on wanted posters, but what other course of action was there? Somewhere out there was a nut job who was killing prostitutes and apparently he looked very much like the media’s darling. They’d be mad not to make use of that fact, but how to do it without being sued was another issue. Paolo had been relieved to hear that the chief was going to take that up with Matthew Roberts himself – and good luck with that, sir, he thought.

  ***

  On Saturday morning the first thing Paolo saw as he pulled up outside his former home was the for sale sign in the front garden. He knocked on the door and prayed that Katy would answer it, but his prayer wasn’t granted. The door swung open and Lydia stood on the step.

  “Come in, Paolo. Katy is just tidying her room. Or, at least she says that’s what she’s doing. I think it’s more likely that she’s shoving stuff in the wardrobe or under the bed.”

  She led the way into the kitchen and picked up the coffee pot. “Would you like some?”

  “No, thank you. I won’t be staying long. I’ve got some viewings lined up. I thought Katy might like to come flat hunting with me.”

  She stopped pouring and looked over at him. “I’m sorry, Paolo, really sorry about last week. I hadn’t intended to-”

  Paolo held up his hand to stop her from saying anything else. He couldn’t bear to hear her say the words again. She’d made her choice, fine, but he didn’t have to listen to her professing love for another man.

  “Forget it, Lydia. You were right about one thing and that was that I needed to find a decent place to live. I’ve made appointments to look at four fl
ats today. They all sound about right, so I thought I’d get Katy to help me make a decision.”

  “Make a decision about what?” Katy asked, coming in and sitting down.

  “Don’t get comfortable, kiddo. We’re going to find me a new home.”

  “Oh wow, great. Do I get my own room?”

  Paolo nodded and then grinned. “And you get to clean it, too.”

  “That sucks,” she said. “You should get a cleaner in.” She stood up again and moved towards the door. “Come on, then, Dad.”

  Paolo smiled at Lydia. “Have fun. I’ll drop Katy back this evening.”

  After trailing around the four apartments, Katy and Paolo headed for her favourite restaurant. The waitress greeted them like long lost friends and led the way to a table near the salad bar.

  “Would you like your usual, or are you going for something different this time?” she said to Katy, offering both of them menus.

  “The usual, please,” Katy said, ignoring what else might be on offer.

  “Right, that’s one Hawaiian deep pan, a salad and coke with no ice,” the waitress said, then turned with a smile to Paolo. “Do you need a bit more time?”

  He grinned. “Nope, I’m having the same as my daughter, but lemonade in place of the coke – also no ice.”

  The waitress went off to pass through their orders. Paolo leaned back against his chair and looked across at Katy.

  “I thought all four flats were okay, but for me it’s between the first one and the last one. I didn’t like the middle two as much.”

  “Me neither,” she said. “I liked the last one best. It had the biggest second bedroom.”

  Paolo nodded. “Right, last one it is then. I’ll sign for it on Monday and hopefully I should be able to move in on the first of next month.”

  Katy nodded, but looked a bit troubled. She toyed with her napkin and then threw it to one side.

  “Mum told you about her and Jack. You okay with that, Dad?”

  Paolo wanted to change the subject, but Katy deserved an honest answer.

  “Not really, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Your mum and I are, well, your mum and me... it’s... it’s complicated.”

  Katy smiled. “I know, Dad. You still love Mum, don’t you?”

  Paolo nodded. “I always will, kiddo, but she’s moved on. I have to accept that. How do you feel about your mum getting married again?”

  She shrugged. “Okay, I suppose. He’s nice, but it’ll be pretty weird living in his house. I’m glad you’re getting that flat, can I come every weekend?”

  “You can stay over any weekend I don’t have to work. How does that sound?”

  She laughed. “You want the truth? It sounds rubbish. You work most weekends. But you will take some off, won’t you?” She suddenly looked serious. “I’m okay with Mum getting married again. I’m even okay with moving, but if it means I won’t see you as much, then that stinks. At the moment I get to see you most Saturdays, but if you have to work, say on Sunday, does that mean I can’t come over to stay with you? That wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

  “Katy, I promise that you can come to stay with me most weekends. If I have to go into work, say to the station or something like that, then you can come with me. But if I have to go out to a crime scene then I’ll drop you at home first.”

  “Aw, come on, Dad. Why couldn’t I stay in the flat and wait for you?”

  “Because your mum would have a fit if I left you on your own, that’s why. So, if I go to a crime scene, I take you home first. Deal?”

  She nodded. “Deal. By the way, I see your man at the school is still keeping an eye on Father Gregory. Has he found out anything yet?”

  “Katy, I’ve told you, he’s nothing to do with me. He’s not an undercover cop; he really is working for the school.”

  “Okay, Dad. I get that you can’t tell me about it. I’ve been following the girl during school breaks and she’s definitely avoiding Father Gregory. When she sees him coming towards her, she ducks out of sight until he’s gone past. It’s really funny. Or, at least it would be funny if I wasn’t convinced she’s scared of him. Can’t you do something, Dad?”

  Paolo had visions of adding Father Gregory to the list of people Chief Constable Willows had told him to stay away from.

  “Katy, unless I know a crime has been committed, or your school friend accuses Father Gregory of a crime, there’s nothing I can do. Have you thought that there might be an innocent explanation? Maybe she told Father Gregory something in confession and now wishes she hadn’t, so is avoiding him. That’s a possibility, isn’t it?”

  Katy looked shocked. “Dad, you don’t believe that, do you? I told you what I saw and what I heard. He’s a creep and she’s scared of him. You’ll see I’m right one day. I’ll prove to you that Father Gregory has something to hide.”

  Matthew Roberts’ words about Katy’s position at the school came into Paolo’s mind. Whatever happened, he couldn’t allow her to jeopardise her place there.

  “Katy, you just keep your friend under surveillance and don’t antagonise Father Gregory.”

  She looked away, avoiding eye contact. “Sure thing, Dad. Whatever you say.”

  Paolo reached across and grabbed her hand. “Katy, I’m not joking about this. Stay away from Father Gregory. Your apology was accepted by the school, but not all the board members felt you should have been allowed to stay. I know for a fact that your place there isn’t as secure as it could be, so don’t do anything stupid.” He squeezed her hand. “Promise me, Katy. Promise you’ll behave.”

  She smiled and nodded. “Of course, Dad. I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

  “Promise?”

  She nodded again. “Promise.”

  ***

  On Monday Paolo went to work via a trip to the estate agent’s. By the time he reached the station he was the proud new tenant of a two bedroom apartment that he wouldn’t be embarrassed to call home. He walked into the main office feeling better about life than he had for some time, so didn’t at first notice his team’s air of excitement.

  Giving a general good morning as he headed for his own office, he was surprised when Dave and CC both jumped to their feet and followed him.

  “What’s going on?” he asked as he hung his coat.

  CC pointed to his desk. “It’s Matthew Roberts’ DNA report, sir. You should read it.”

  Paolo stopped moving, hand still holding his coat above the hook. Various thoughts chased themselves through his head. He finished hanging his coat and turned to Dave and CC.

  “Don’t tell me it’s a match?”

  “Not exactly, sir,” Dave said.

  “What does that mean, not exactly? You two are like kids at a Christmas party where Santa’s arrived but not yet given out the gifts.”

  CC laughed. “That’s what it feels like, sir, except that we know what the gift is. Roberts’ DNA isn’t a match, but it shares enough strands with the killer’s to prove that it’s most probably a sibling.”

  Paolo snatched up the report as he sat down at his desk. “But that isn’t possible.”

  “Why not, sir?” Dave asked, sitting down opposite Paolo. “It would make sense if Roberts’ brother was the guilty one. We know it’s someone who closely resembles Roberts’ and presumably a sibling would look very like him.”

  Paolo shook his head. He signalled for CC to take the other chair and then went back to reading the report. At the end of it he started again from the beginning. He heard Dave and CC fidgeting, but ignored them. This simply didn’t make sense. Eventually, he looked up.

  “I’ve known Matthew Roberts for more than twenty-five years and one thing I can say for certain is that he doesn’t have any siblings – male or female. Matthew is an only child.”

  There was silence for a few minutes as the news was absorbed and then both Dave and CC came up with possible explanations.

  “Maybe the father played around,” Dave offered. “There might be a love c
hild out there who you don’t know about.”

  “Or it could be the mother had a child and gave him away at birth. If it happened before she met and married Mr Roberts senior then she could have kept it quiet,” CC said.

  Paolo grinned at her. “If you had met Mrs Roberts you’d never have suggested that. She was the most terrifying woman I’d ever known. I was always convinced as a boy that she knew all my darkest thoughts and by that I mean what every young boy thinks about nearly every minute of every day. Straight-laced doesn’t even come into it, the woman was an iceberg. I’d have said she was the last person in the world who might have had a child out of wedlock, but maybe that’s why she was the way she was. Maybe she was hiding a guilty secret. It’s a pity we can’t question her. She died a few years back.” He sighed. “You know what this means, don’t you? It’s back to questioning Matthew Roberts, only this time it’s to ask him which of his parents might have given him a half-brother I’d take bets he doesn’t know anything about.”

  CC whistled. “He’s not going to like that, sir.”

  Paolo nodded. “I know, which is why I’m going upstairs to discuss this with the chief. I am not going to put my head in line for the guillotine without first letting Willows know so that he can arrange for a basket to catch it.”

  ***

  Paolo and Dave spoke in whispers while waiting for Roberts to finish with a client. Once Paolo had explained the DNA possibilities, Willows himself had picked up the phone to organise the meeting and had conveyed the need for it far more tactfully than Paolo would have been able to manage.

  It was the first time Paolo had been to Matthew’s place of work and he was surprised by its lack of ostentation. He’d been expecting something plush and expensively decorated, rather along the lines of the penthouse they’d visited, but it seemed as though the workplace persona and the private one were completely separate identities. The waiting area was basic to say the least. All that was offered in the way of decor was a line of padded upright chairs against one wall, a couple of side tables holding an assortment of tired looking magazines, and two tall plants, both in need of some TLC.