Wrong Place: A gripping serial killer crime thriller.

by M A Comley

  “Would the lady behind the bar know?”

  “Denise, did Brenda usually bring a car to work?”

  The woman behind the bar left the customers and came over to Sally’s table. “I’m not sure. Why?”

  Greg lowered his voice and told Denise, “Brenda’s dead. These two are coppers investigating her death.”

  Denise gasped and stumbled against the table when her legs wobbled beneath her. Jack leapt out of his seat to support the woman. “Are you all right?”

  She flashed a smile heavy with grief and patted his hand gripping her arm. “I’ll be fine. It’s such a shock. I knew she was ill last night, but I didn’t realise it was that serious. Damn, I should have called her a taxi to take her home.”

  Sally’s gaze drifted between Greg and Denise. “The thing is, she was found murdered. Her death had nothing to do with her illness.”

  “What?” Greg said almost before Sally had finished talking. “Why? Where?”

  “Why, I can’t answer that yet, but the ‘where’ I can. Her naked body was found in a graveyard in Acle. What I’d like to know is if she was talking to anyone in particular last night? A stranger perhaps?”

  Denise rubbed her head in thought. “There was a man, but he left a good ten to fifteen minutes before she did.”

  “Can you give us a hint to his identity?” Sally asked.

  “Crap, can’t say I took that much notice really. We were all busy here last night. There was a large party in the restaurant, a birthday bash for an eighty-year-old. I was tidying away their glasses when I noticed Brenda looking ill.”

  Sally nodded. “Had she been ill long? I mean, at the beginning of her shift?”

  “I didn’t really notice.”

  Sally turned to Jack. “Maybe someone laced her drink with something.”

  “Poison?” Jack replied.

  “Who knows? Are your staff allowed to drink while serving customers, Greg?”

  “The odd one, only an orange juice or something similar. Definitely nothing alcoholic, that’s for sure. I’m telling you, none of my customers would poison her.”

  “It’s just a suspicion at this point, nothing concrete.”

  A man at the bar tapped his glass on the glossy wood, eager for service. Denise excused herself and ran back behind the bar to serve the impatient customer.

  “We’ll need to ask the other members of staff on duty last night if they saw this customer. It’s vital we get a description as soon as possible, if only to discount him from our enquiries.”

  “We run a skeleton staff during the day. Most of our trade takes place after seven in the evening, when you’ve finished for the day, I’m guessing,” Greg said.

  “Then we can either send uniformed police in to ask the staff to give us a statement, or you can give us everyone’s address and we’ll conduct our enquiries off the premises.”

  “That would suit me better. I’ll go to the office and sort out the details for you.” The manager left the table and slipped behind the bar again.

  “Is he legit?” Jack asked, “Or could he have committed the crime?”

  “What are you basing that assumption on, Jack?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. He seemed a bit off with us. That’s all.”

  Sally shook her head in frustration. “Going by your logic, seventy percent of the bloody country would be sat behind bars. Coppers are hardly on everyone’s Christmas card list, are we?”

  “Granted. Is there anything we can do while we wait?”

  Sally pondered his question for a second or two then snapped her fingers. “Get on to the station. Ask Joanna to look into the boyfriend’s travel itinerary. See if he’s returned to the country lately. I’ll go and question the barmaid a bit more in between her serving the customers.”

  “I’ll get on it right away.”

  The barmaid continued to shake her head periodically as she served the three men sitting at the bar. One of them asked what was wrong, but she didn’t tell them. Sally was pleased to see that—it proved the woman could be trusted. Maybe Brenda had confided in the woman.

  “Sorry to interrupt again,” Sally said, hopping up onto one of the barstools, letting her legs dangle freely.

  “Anything I can do to help, I will. I still can’t believe she won’t be walking through those doors again.”

  “Was Brenda popular amongst the punters?” Sally asked.

  “Most of the time, yes. She had a run-in with one or two of the men when they tried to get fresh with her, but in this game, that type of thing tends to come with the territory.”

  “Anyone get fresh with her lately?”

  “Not that I can think of. I wish I could give you more on this guy who was chatting to her.”

  “Do you think anyone else could remember what he looks like? Another member of staff or a customer sitting at the bar perhaps?”

  “I’m sorry to be so hopeless. I was rushed off my feet last night and didn’t really have time to take in my surroundings like I usually do.” She struck a clenched fist against her denim-clad thigh. “Why didn’t I pay more attention? Why?”

  “Please don’t punish yourself like that. Maybe if someone is able to give us an idea of this man’s description, I can run it past you, see if it jolts your memory.”

  “Sure. Although I’m not certain who will be able to supply you with the information you need. All I can do is check the rota to see who was on duty last night.”

  “That would be a great help. Your boss is getting the staff’s names and addresses. I could put those who were on duty last night at the top of the list.”

  The barmaid walked to the end of the bar and came back holding a rota. She placed it on the bar in front of Sally just as Jack joined her. “Here you go.”

  “Get these names down in your notebook, Jack.”

  “Will do, boss. Joanna is getting onto the airlines and relevant departments now about the boyfriend.” Jack jotted down the names of the people on duty the previous evening at the pub.

  Sally looked at the extensive list and inwardly groaned. The day ahead would turn out to be longer than either of them had anticipated.

  The manager appeared and handed Sally the staff names and addresses. “Here’s the information you need. Hope you find it useful.”

  “Thanks, that’s a big help. Here’s my card, in case either of you think of anything that might help our investigation. We’ll work our way through the list today. You might be in for a bit of aggro from your staff when they come on duty later. Providing nobody has anything to hide, all should go well.”

  “Okay. I can’t see you getting anything out of the staff. I don’t allow them to fraternise with each other, but who’s to say what goes on after their shift ends, right?” Greg added a shrug at the end of his statement.

  “True enough. We’ll be in touch soon.” Sally and Jack left the pub. Once outside in the fresh air, Sally said, “I think we’re in for at least six or seven hours of mind-numbing repeated questions that I doubt will throw up much insight into what happened to Brenda Fisher.”

  “Maybe we should grab a sandwich before we begin.”

  “Food and drink, is that all you think about?” Sally saw the glint appear in his eye. “Jeez, don’t bloody bother answering that. Men… cut your dicks off, and you wouldn’t be able to think.”

  Jack roared with laughter. “You do have a certain way with words at times. I suppose you women never think about sex.”

  “Not as often as you men. Come on, we’re wasting time. I think I spotted a baker’s up the road on the way here.”

  “Lunch is on you, I take it?”

  “DIs aren’t on that much more than a DS, you know. Especially ones who have just had to stump up for a new flat.”

  “Violins at the ready. Crap, I walked into that one. All right, I’ll get these, but you owe me.”

  The rest of the day consisted of working through the list of employees from the pub, though Sally and Jack’s efforts prov
ided them with little useful information regarding what had happened the night before at the pub.

  “If only there hadn’t been that function taking place,” Sally complained wearily, walking out of the final member of staff’s house.

  “What now?”

  Sally unlocked the car, and they both got in. She started up the engine before she spoke again. “The thing is, I really wanted to see what the customers sitting in the public bar had to say, but not one person could tell us who the regulars were that night because of that damn function. Why is it that people only tend to focus on one thing at a time these days?”

  Jack shook his head. “Not everyone out there wants to, or needs to, think like a copper, boss.”

  She hit the steering wheel with the heel of her hand before pulling away from the kerb. “Maybe if folks opened their eyes a bit more, our job would be less stressful.”

  “Like that’s going to happen any day soon.”

  “Okay, let’s get back to the station. See what the others have managed to find out, if anything, in our absence, then we’ll call it a day.”

  The team were still all hard at it when they arrived. Sally made a beeline for Joanna’s desk while Jack headed for the board to fill in all the negative results they’d achieved during the afternoon.

  “Any luck, Joanna?” Sally asked.

  “Absolutely nothing on the boyfriend. I’ve tracked him down to working in a hotel in Malaga, but he hasn’t left the country in months. Apparently, he has neither the intention nor inclination to leave there, either.”

  “Okay, that’s a pity. On the other hand, he’s one we can conclusively cross off our list. That’s always a nice position to be in.”

  “How did you get on? By the looks of things, not very well,” Joanna said.

  “You’d be right there. We’re just about to wrap everything up before we set off for the day.”

  The team gathered around, and each of them summarised what their investigations had uncovered—which amounted to very little. Sally exhaled a large breath. “Okay, guys. Let’s all go home and get some rest and start afresh in the morning. Frustrating as it is, that’s about the only option left open to us this early on in the case.”

  “Looks that way until forensics can give us a name to go on.” Jack placed the lid on the marker pen.

  Sally had tidied up her desk and was just about to leave the office when her phone rang. The ominous nerves struck and constricted her stomach. She thought about leaving it to ring and closing the door, but ever the professional, she pushed her uneasiness aside and said confidently, “Hello, DI Parker. Can I help?”

  “Darling, I’m so glad I caught you.”

  Sally sank onto the desk, relieved to hear her mother’s calm and caring voice. “Hi, Mum. I was just heading home for the night. I was going to ring for a chat later anyway. Nothing wrong, is there?”

  “No, dear. Okay, I won’t hold you up. Call me later if you will.” She hung up without saying goodbye, which was quite out of character for Sally’s mother.

  Jack appeared in the doorway as Sally was placing the phone into its cradle. “Anything wrong?”

  Sally shrugged. “How the heck should I know, especially where my mother’s concerned? You know how wacky she can be at times.”

  Jack laughed. “Yeah, I know. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

  Still mulling over the strange conversation she’d had with her mum, Sally took Jack up on his offer. “Families, eh? Can’t live with them, and can’t live without them. They’re an absolute law unto themselves at times.”

  Jack’s face clouded over for a fleeting moment. If Sally hadn’t worked alongside him for the past six years, she probably wouldn’t have picked up the subtle change in his demeanour. She knew when to hold back and not push him, though. He would tell her what was going on in that head of his when he was ready. It just proved that she wasn’t the only one with crap to deal with on the home front at present. Thankfully, having Darryl permanently out of her hair meant less stress to deal with in that respect. All she had to contend with was her mother weirding her out once in a while. Since menopause had taken hold of Sally’s mother, Janine Tomlin had been guilty of so many weird, and at times unlawful events, driving her husband, Christopher, and her daughter to distraction on more than one occasion. Sally often wondered how her mother coped with dealing with the old folks at the care home day in and day out. Surely she would need her wits about her when constantly seeing to their requirements.

  Sally bid her partner farewell, giving him a friendly punch to the upper arm, before she jumped in her own car and sped off for her tiny flat in the centre of Norwich.

  She opened the kitchen cupboard and removed a bottle of red wine and one of her large, blue-tinted wine glasses. She filled the glass to the top then peeped in the fridge to see what she could rustle up for dinner. A platter of cheeses in the centre of the fridge stared back at her. With all the moving and unpacking she’d thrown herself into over the weekend, she’d had very little time to do any actual grocery shopping—this was the result of her forgetfulness. Sally rummaged in one of the cupboards and found a packet of savoury biscuits to accompany the cheese. The meal was hardly a well-nutritional banquet, and her mother would have been appalled to see her sitting down to a meal without the obligatory meat and two veg, but it was Sally’s idea of heaven at the end of a long day’s shift.

  Halfway through the meal, her mobile rang. She looked at the number and sighed. Answer it or leave it to ring? She knew her ex would pester her all evening if she didn’t answer. “Yes, Darryl. What do you want?”

  “There’s no need for you to bubble over with excitement,” he replied sarcastically.

  “I’m busy. What do you want?”

  “I was between flights and wondered if you’d care to join me for dinner.”

  Sally’s mouth dropped open. What the fuck is wrong with this man?

  “Sally, baby, talk to me.”

  “I can’t, Darryl. You heard what the judge said—we both need to forget the past four years and move on with our lives. I’m sorry, but from now on, I intend my life to be a Darryl-free zone. Go forth and find another mug willing to put up with your abusive ways. From this day forward, that person isn’t going to be me. Have you got that?”

  The phone clicked. Sally inhaled and exhaled slowly for the next few minutes, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat to a near-normal level. She wished she had never fallen for his charm. She’d wished it nigh on a hundred times after the blissful first six months of the marriage had passed. Then a light switch had gone off in Darryl’s head, telling him he had the right to verbally and physically dominate her. At first, she’d bowed to his demands, fearing what would happen to her if she didn’t. Then one day, she’d used the computer at work to carry out a full background check on her darling husband. She was shocked to find that he’d been married to two women before her, and both had gone to the trouble of registering domestic violence abuse complaints against him. Why didn’t I carry out the checks before walking down the aisle?

  But then, Darryl had fooled everyone, not just her. People just got caught up in the romance of him being a pilot. A dark, handsome, and slim long-haul pilot, Darryl had ten years of flying experience under his belt and was a captain for one of the world’s biggest airlines, to boot. Taking a huge gulp of wine didn’t prevent the tears forming in her eyes. Sally had never been so gullible in her life before Darryl, and every night as she lay in her bed, dwelling over the past four years of madness, she swore that it would never happen again.

  From now on, men can take a hike. Life was just too short for her to be involved in another draining and demoralising relationship. She had no intention of ever having children. Therefore, she truly had no need for another relationship, let alone a marriage.

  The sound of the phone disrupted her miserable thoughts. “Hello, Mum, I was just getting settled before I called back.”

  “That’s all right, dear. I was only
checking if you’d made it home all right. That’s all.”

  Sally covered the phone’s mouthpiece and sighed. “I’m twenty-nine, Mum, not some wayward teenager.”

  “I know, I know. Now don’t go getting shirty with me. If I’m in the wrong for caring, then I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m the one who should be apologising, Mum. It’s been a tough day and…”

  “And?”

  “Darryl just rang me.”

  Her mother gasped. “No! Why?”

  “Can you believe he wanted to take me out for a meal? He said he was between flights and at a loose end.”

  “Good Lord. That man has a bloody screw loose if he thinks you’ll take him back. You won’t—will you, dear?” she asked, uncertainty lingering in her voice.

  Sally tutted loudly. “No fear of that, Mum.”

  “Good, I’m glad to see you’re keeping your sense where that animal is concerned. Now, how about coming to dinner on Sunday? Better still, why don’t you come and stay with us for the weekend? I know someone who would be super pleased to see you.”

  Sally smiled as the thought of her wonderful golden Labrador filled her mind. “How is Dex?”

  “He’ll settle down after a few days. He sits there every night by the front door, waiting for you to walk through it.”

  “Don’t make me feel guiltier than I am already, Mum. It’s for the best. This place is far too small for him, and for me, for that matter.”

  “Well, you know the option to come back home was on the table for you, dear.”

  “I know, Mum. Right now, I need to step back and have time on my own.”

  “I understand that completely. However, sometimes loneliness can bite you in the backside and have a devastating effect on the soul.”

  “All right, you’ve ground me down, Mother, as usual. Make up the spare bed. If the week goes according to plan, I’ll drop over after work on Friday. How’s that?”

  “That’s marvellous news, darling. Only we’ve got plans to go on the boat this weekend. You’ll be up for that, won’t you? A bit of rest and relaxation on the Broads.”

  “Sounds idyllic. Not sure how Dex will react to being aboard a boat, though.”