Deadly Reprisal (Detective Zoe Finch Book 5)

by Rachel McLean

  “Did you find any residue?”

  “Nothing on his skin. Your FSIs might have found evidence of it at the scene, I imagine.”

  “So he was grabbed by someone with strong fingers, possibly had methamphetamines pushed into his mouth by force, and wasn’t a user.”

  Reynolds flashed his eyes at Mo. “You really do want me to do your job for you, don’t you?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “That was fun,” Mo said.

  Zoe was in her Mini in the car park next to Boulton Hall, much closer to the building this time Connie was in the passenger seat beside her. Mo was on speakerphone.

  “What did she say?” Zoe asked.

  “Not she. He. Reynolds did the PM.”

  “Did he say where Adana is?”

  “On leave, apparently. Sooner she comes back, the better.”

  “I got enough of him at the scene. What kind of leave?”

  “I wasn’t about to pry. So d’you want the verdict, or not?”

  “Go on.” Zoe glanced at Connie, who stared at the speaker, her expression intent.

  “He died of a meth overdose,” Mo said. “But he wasn’t a habitual user.”

  “First time taking it?”

  “His mouth and lips are bruised. Someone might have forced the drugs into him. There’s fingernail damage to the inside of his cheeks. We’ll need a DNA check to know if they were self-inflicted or not. And there were finger marks on his wrists which by the pattern, look like someone restrained him.”

  “Any other marks? Defensive wounds?”

  “Nothing. Looks like there was no kind of struggle. If there really was another person involved.”

  “That’s still in doubt?”

  “It’s not one hundred percent,” Mo told her. “But going by the fact that he wasn’t a habitual user of methamphetamines, and the bruises, I don’t think this was self-inflicted.”

  “How long before we get the DNA results?”

  “That’s my next call.”

  “Good.” Zoe eyed Connie. “We’re going to have a gentle chat with Becca.”

  “You think that’s wise?” Mo asked. “She’ll be fragile.”

  “Her alleged attacker gets killed two weeks after she reports a rape? We have to at least check her alibi.”

  “Go easy on her,” Mo said.

  Connie nodded. “We will.” Zoe gave her a reassuring smile.

  “Wish us luck,” Zoe said, and hung up before Mo had a chance to respond.

  The two of them sat in silence for a few moments. A pair of students walked past the car.

  “They’ve let the students out of their rooms,” Connie said.

  “There’s no reason to think they’re in danger,” Zoe told her. “And it takes time to identify who we need to talk to. Let’s just hope Becca is still here.”

  Connie nodded and opened her door. Zoe climbed out and they strode towards the front entrance of Boulton Hall.

  Zoe was relieved to see someone other than Mark Jenks on duty. This one was an older man, with thinning grey hair and a tired expression. She showed her ID.

  “We’re here to interview Becca MacGuire. Can you tell me which room she’s in?”

  “239.”

  “Thank you.” Zoe and Connie exchanged a glance: that was easy.

  They made their way to room 239 and Zoe knocked on the door. The outer door to the corridor had been unlocked and this one wasn’t fully closed. But she wasn’t about to enter uninvited.

  The door opened and a young woman stared back at them. She seemed larger without the bulky winter coat in the photograph, and her blonde hair had been cut short. The sides were uneven and it looked like she’d done it herself.

  “Becca MacGuire?” Zoe asked.

  The woman tensed. “Yes.” She frowned at Connie then looked back at Zoe.

  Zo held up her warrant card. “My name’s Detective Inspector Zoe Finch. This is DC Connie Williams. I’m sure you can imagine what we’re here about.”

  Becca’s shoulders slumped. “Him.”

  Zoe sensed Connie shifting her weight, uneasy.

  “We’re investigating Laurence Thomms’s death. I hoped you might have a very brief, very informal chat with us.”

  “You heard.”

  “I’m sure you’d rather have this conversation inside,” Zoe said. The other doors on the corridor were closed, but she was sure everything she said could be heard by their occupants.

  Becca stood back to let them in. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Zoe and Connie stood in the centre of the room looking back at her.

  “We’ve been told that you alleged an assault by Mr Thomms,” Zoe said, keeping her voice low.

  Becca nodded. She curled her lip as she met Zoe’s eye. “He raped me.”

  “Did you report it to the police?”

  Becca’s gaze was unwavering. “I told my residential tutor.”

  “Who is…?”

  “Jenson Begg. He told me I had to report it to the warden. Seeing as we’re both residents.”

  “And did you?”

  Becca nodded, her hand on the door handle. “I spoke to her ten days ago.”

  “What did she do in response?” Connie asked.

  Becca turned quickly towards the constable, as if she’d forgotten Connie was there. “She said she’d investigate.”

  “She didn’t contact the police?” Zoe asked.

  Becca shook her head.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I asked her not to.”

  Zoe clenched a fist. She understood how hard it was for rape victims to report their assaults, but wished more of them would. She nodded, slowly. “Why didn’t you want the police involved?”

  “I slept with a few boys. In fresher’s week. Three, to be precise. I knew how that would look in court.”

  “Juries can be instructed to ignore a victim’s sexual history,” Connie said.

  Becca snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  “Becca, is there anyone else you talked to about the alleged rape?” Zoe asked. “Any friends, other members of staff?”

  “Alleged. Even you don’t believe me.” Becca scratched her nose. “No. I couldn’t face it. Didn’t even tell my mates.”

  “Were you satisfied with the investigation the warden was carrying out?”

  Becca shrugged. “She hasn’t reported back to me yet.”

  “And when are you expecting that?”

  “Friday.”

  “Do you know what kind of investigation she’s undertaking?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me. Said it had to be impartial.” Becca almost spat out the last word.

  “I’m sorry to ask you about this, Becca, but where were you last night? Were you at the party?”

  “No.”

  “Can anyone else corroborate that?”

  “I was working the students’ union bar. I guess if people are going to talk about me, they might as well do it out in the open.”

  “People know about your allegations against Laurence Thomms?”

  “Allegations. Yes, they know. Everyone knows. That’s why he’s dead, I imagine.”

  “You think someone killed him because he raped you?” Connie asked.

  Becca turned to her, her face hard. “I think someone killed him because he was a parasite.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rhodri placed the mug of coffee – white, three sugars – on his desk and sat back in his chair. He’d found the Lin’s Lens YouTube channel and discovered a video that had been posted two hours earlier. Ten hours after Lin had found Laurence dead.

  Nice kid, he thought as he slurped his coffee. A splash spilled over the rim and onto his jacket. He cursed and brushed it off with the back of his hand.

  First, there was the SD card. He took it from the bag on his desk and stuck it into the side of his computer monitor. He flicked to the file manager and checked what was on it. Five video files dating between early this morning and ten days ago. He clicke
d on the most recent one and sniffed as the video came up onscreen.

  Lin stood in front of the camera, a closed door behind her. Her hand was raised as if she was about to knock.

  “Not that one,” came a voice. Kayla, presumably.

  Lin’s face fell. She looked back at the door then shrugged. She leaned forward, her eyes bright. She looked like she’d been drinking. “Yeah, let’s leave that one. For now.” She flashed a smile, then turned to walk along a corridor. The camera followed her, the movement jerky as Kayla walked.

  Lin stopped at the last door on the corridor and turned to the lens. She grinned as she knocked on the door.

  “Hey party people, welcome to Lin’s Lens. Tonight is the Valentine’s Ball at Boulton Hall and we’re expecting plenty of dirt.” She leaned in, her eyes wide. “And you can expect us to dish it out for you!”

  After a few moments, Lin shrugged. “Aw, shucks! No one in, I guess.”

  “They’re all at the party,” said Kayla from behind the camera.

  She moved to the next door and pushed it lightly. It gave way.

  Lin raised an eyebrow at the camera and walked into the darkened bedroom. Two young men were inside. They didn’t look pleased to see her.

  “Fuck off, Lin! We don’t want to be on your bloody channel.”

  Lin left the room, giving the men the finger as she walked. Rhodri allowed himself a chuckle. He’d never gone to university, he’d joined Uniform after leaving school, but he knew from his mates the kind of things that went on. It seemed like it was less about studying, and more about taking drugs and copping off with as many people as you could manage.

  After a few more door knocks – some fruitful, some not – Lin arrived back at the first door. Rhodri straightened in his chair, his hand on the empty coffee mug.

  “Now to see what Boulton Hall’s biggest creep is up to,” Lin said. She pushed the door. “It’s open,” she added. Watching, Rhodri wrote her words in his notepad.

  Lin pushed the door a little further and stopped, hesitating at the threshold to the dark room. Rhodri heard a whisper from behind the camera. Kayla trying to stop her, perhaps.

  “Let’s see what he’s up to, huh?” Lin disappeared into the shadows. Rhodri heard muttering: something about dragging and drugging.

  The screen went dark. “Shit,” came Lin’s voice.

  “What?”

  “I felt something,” Lin said. “Open the fucking door.”

  There was a rustling sound, more muttering, and then knocking. Rhodri heard a yelp.

  “Open the fucking door!” Lin’s voice, if it was hers, had changed. The bravado and drunkenness were gone, replaced by panic.

  After more rustling and dim movement onscreen, the screen lightened. The camera was pointing downward. Rhodri could make out the lower half of a man’s body. He wore black jeans and red socks and his feet were almost hidden by the bed.

  The angle changed and the body enlarged as the camera was dropped next to it. All Rhodri could see was a close-up of the man’s ankle in its red sock.

  He could still hear voices.

  “Is he…?” Kayla said.

  “Come on.” Kayla’s voice again. “Let’s get out of here. He’s taken something.”

  The ankle shifted: Laurence moving, or one of the girls kicking him?

  “He’s stone cold.” Lin this time. “He’s dead, Kay. He’s fucking dead.”

  A shadow crossed the screen. One of the girls moving past the camera, Rhodri supposed. He turned the volume up.

  “Did he take something?” said Kayla.

  “He’s foaming at the mouth. Eurgh, that’s gross.” Lin’s American accent had gone.

  “We need to get out of here, Lin. What if they think we did it?”

  “They won’t think that, dumbass.”

  A pause.

  “They might.”

  “Oh come on, for fuck’s sake.”

  The camera moved. Someone was lifting it off the floor. Laurence’s body flashed past, and then the camera was plunged into a pocket and the screen went almost black.

  “She killed him, didn’t she?” said Lin.

  “She can’t have.”

  “He didn’t do this to himself. That’s not his style. Come on, let’s tell someone. She fucking killed him.”

  Rhodri heard shuffling noises and a mass of dim redness appeared in the image. A hand. He held his breath as the video ended.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “A parasite, she called him.” Zoe stood next to Connie’s desk, leaning against the wall beside the board.

  “Who?” asked Rhodri. He’d just finished telling Zoe and Connie what he had heard on the video.

  “Becca MacGuire. The student that Laurence allegedly raped.”

  “Well I guess it’s not surprising,” he said.

  Connie shook her head. “There’s more to it than that.”

  Zoe nodded. “She told us she wasn’t the first.”

  “He’s raped other girls?”

  “Women,” said Connie. Rhodri shrugged.

  “That’s what Becca claimed,” Zoe said. “She couldn’t give us any names, though.”

  “Typical,” Rhodri said. Connie flashed him a look of irritation.

  “We need to talk to the warden,” Zoe said. “She might have uncovered more information.”

  “Problem is,” Connie added. “She’s away on a research trip.”

  “Where?”

  “Iceland. She’s taken a group of Geography students to observe the geysers, apparently.”

  “A student in her hall has died,” Zoe said. “Surely that takes priority.”

  “Her assistant said she’s trying to get her on a flight, but there aren’t many at this time of year.”

  Zoe sighed. “Have we at least got a phone number for her?”

  “Better than that.” Connie grinned. “Her Skype account.”

  “OK. Let’s just hope she’s got good wifi out there in the wilderness.”

  “I’ve made an appointment to talk to her in the morning,” Connie said.

  “That’s not soon enough.”

  “Her assistant wasn’t exactly helpful.”

  “What’s the time difference?”

  “Same time as here.”

  The door opened and Mo entered. “Any news?”

  “Laurence was a multiple rapist,” Rhodri said.

  “Allegedly,” Zoe added.

  “Who told you?” Mo asked.

  “Becca did,” Zoe told him. “She doesn’t know the names of any of his other alleged victims, though.”

  “What do the university authorities say?”

  “We’re talking to the warden first thing tomorrow. I guess we’ll find out then.”

  “That’s off,” Rhodri said. “They can’t dick us around like that.”

  Zoe raised her eyebrows at him.

  “He’s right,” Connie said. “I’ll call my mate at the uni. She might know if there’s been any other allegations.”

  “Good,” replied Zoe. “You do that. Mo, when will we get the DNA results?”

  “Not till tomorrow.”

  “Looks like this investigation’s on hold overnight,” Zoe said. She lifted her watch. “Blimey, is that the time? Connie, you make that call. Then I want everyone to head home. We can pick this up in the morning.”

  “What about Becca?” Rhodri said.

  “What about her?” Zoe replied.

  “Well, if he raped her, she had a motive…”

  “She was working the student bar. We can check that out, but she didn’t strike me as someone who’d just committed murder.”

  “Not that easy to tell,” Rhodri said. The phone rang on his desk. Zoe waited for him to pick it up, and gave him a fierce stare as he dithered. He grimaced and grabbed it. “Sorry, boss,” he whispered.

  “Force CID, DC Hughes… yeah… yeah, she’s here… no problem.” He held out the phone. “Adi Hanson, boss.”

  “Good.” Zoe took the p
hone from him. “Adi, what you got for me?”

  “Good evening to you too,” he replied.

  “You and I have known each other long enough for…”

  “I was joking.”

  “Ha ha.” She wound the phone cord around her finger.

  “OK, so we’ve taken prints from various surfaces in the victim’s room. Most of them match the victim himself, but there are others. Two other people, we think.”

  “Any idea who?”

  “One of them’s Lin Johnson.”

  “Makes sense.” Her prints could have got there when she found him. Or they might have got there another way. “Where in the room did you find her prints?”

  “On the headboard of the bed. Consistent with her stumbling and catching herself on the bedframe.

  “Hang on. I’ll put you on speaker.” Zoe pressed a button. “Can you repeat that?”

  “We found Lin’s prints on the bed headboard, in a pattern that fits with her stumbling and catching herself on the bed, to stop herself falling.”

  Zoe turned to Rhodri. “Does that fit with what you saw on the video?”

  He shrugged. “It was dark when they entered the room. Think the door closed behind them. There was something that sounded like someone falling over, but I can’t be sure.”

  She nodded. “Adi, did you find her prints anywhere else?”

  “No.”

  “And the other person’s prints?”

  “On the desk. Where we also found a few trace crystals of methamphetamine.”

  “That fits with the pathology report,” said Mo.

  “Does it look like the owner of these prints might have brought the drugs in?” Zoe asked. “Maybe forced Laurence to take them?”

  “They’re too random to be able to conclude anything like that,” Adi replied.

  “OK. Send over the files with these prints and we’ll see if we can find a match. Have you taken prints off any of the other witnesses? Neighbours?”

  “All of them. Kayla didn’t touch anything, it seems. And none of his neighbours ever went in his room, or if they did they were careful not to touch anything.”

  “He was a recluse,” Mo said. “From what we’ve been told, he didn’t have much to do with the other students living on his corridor.”