by ML Rose
“Who told you that?” she whispered back, stepping over a fallen branch.
“Land Registry data and council figures.”
Rosslyn frowned at him. “You love finding out stuff, don’t you?”
I love looking at you as well, Rob thought to himself. But he smiled in silence, and shrugged.
Thomas was right about the forest. A dense crop of mature conifers, oaks and birches made them halt. Sunlight played through the branches of green foliage, but the land was overgrown with shrubs and weeds. Rob could see why there would be a fox’s nest here. He wouldn't be surprised if there was deer roaming around somewhere.
"How far is the rear wall?" He asked Thomas.
Thomas indicated, and they walked down a path that had been cleared through the undergrowth. Rosslyn called out to Rob, and the two men came to a halt. She was pointing to the stump of a tree. Rob saw a colourful chocolate or sweet wrapper.
He put his gloves on, and waded into the undergrowth, separating shrubs and weeds with his hands. On closer inspection, it was indeed a red, green and blue chocolate wrapper. But it seemed as if the chocolate had been wrapped around by hand. The chocolate inside was still intact. Rob looked around him, but couldn't see anything else. He put it inside a specimen bag and walked back to Rosslyn.
"Well spotted," he said.
"Strange, right? Why would there be a chocolate on the ground here?"
Rob turned to Thomas. "Does Emmanuel ever come to play here?"
Thomas shook his head. "Never. He's too scared. And the nanny keeps a close eye on him."
"What's the nanny's name?"
"Shirley Linklater."
Rob's eyes opened wide, and he found Rosslyn staring at him. That was the next name on their list. The burglar had visited her house, too.
"Are you sure it's Shirley Linklater?"
"Yes, I'm positive."
"Do you have her address?"
"I'm sure I can get it for you."
Rosslyn was visibly excited, and Rob rubbed his hands together. This was a real breakthrough. They looked round the rest of the woodland, but didn't find anything. Rob had held out a distant hope of getting some boot prints, but it hadn't rained for a few days, and the ground was hard.
They went back to the guard’s office, and he brought up the address on his laptop. Rosslyn checked it with the address she had already entered on her satnav. It was one and the same.
Rob frowned as he looked at Thomas. “Where is Shirley now?”
“She’s taken Emmanuel out to Hyde Park.”
Rob’s eyes narrowed as a sudden fear clutched his heart.
CHAPTER 43
Arla stepped away from the x-ray machine. It was dark inside the room, AND the radiology technician turned the lights on. She handed the oxygen mask back to Arla, and she accepted it with a murmur of thanks.
She was wearing one of those ridiculous hospital gowns that had to be tied in at the back and side. Arla never understood why hospital gowns had to be so difficult to tie up. She wished they could just have a strap in the front. She took in a deep breath of the oxygen, and coughed immediately. Her lungs were still sore. She grabbed the rod that held the portable oxygen canister and wheeled it back to the waiting room. She was free to go up to the ward.
The technician said, "Please wait outside. A porter will come to take you upstairs."
"In a wheelchair?" Arla asked. She answered her own question. "No thanks. It's time for me to return to work anyway. I can take myself upstairs, and get changed."
The female technician shook her head. "It's not safe for you to go just yet. The doctors have to examine you again, and look at the x-ray results."
"In that case, I need to speak to my doctor."
"The nurse at the ward can arrange that."
There was a system in the hospital, which Arla had to obey. She went to the waiting room, then made her way to the elevators. She's almost bumped into Harry as she turned the corner into the main corridor. His face was flushed and sweaty. His shoulders sagged with relief when he saw her.
"What happened? How are you?" Questions tumbled out of him. His eyes searched her face, and traversed her body.
"I should be asking you those questions," Arla said. "Where have you been?"
"I just came back from taking a statement of Imogen Churchill. Looks like John Churchill had been at home the night Shirley Linklater's house was burgled."
Arla blinked, her brain shifting into gear. "Okay, that makes sense. Glad you did that." She peered up at him. “How’s Nicole?”
“With mum. Don’t worry.”
Arla closed her eyes, glad to heard the news.
"Shall we sit down?" Harry pointed to the chairs at one side of the corridor.
"There's a coffee shop round the corner," Arla suggested. Harry pointed to her oxygen mask. "We’re better off going upstairs and sitting by your bedside."
Arla agreed, but she did want a coffee. She hated the coffee on the ward drinks machine. Harry compromised. She promised to go upstairs, if Harry brought some coffee from downstairs and brought it up to her.
On the ward, while she waited for Harry to turn up, she asked to the nurse to bleep her doctor. The doctor was surprised when Arla answered his bleep call.
"Are you the police inspector who got smoke inhalational injury?"
"Yes." Arla gave her name and asked, "When can I go home?"
"Your blood tests have come back under normal. However, the arterial blood gases show the level of carbon dioxide is still high in your blood. It would be better if you remained on oxygen for the rest of the day. Did you have the chest x-ray?"
"Yes. Look, I'm not being pushy, but I have an urgent case that needs my attention. I need to get back to work."
"That may be so, Inspector Baker, but you won't be of much use to anyone if you're coughing and short of breath all the time. An inhalation lung smoke injury is not something we take lightly.”
Arla breathed down the phone, and the doctor spoke before she could. "Look, I have to go. It's a busy day. I will come up shortly, and discuss the chest x-ray."
He hung up, and Arla replaced the telephone receiver back on its cradle slowly. She hated being in hospital. She trudged back to her bed, then sat down, drawing her knees up to her chin.
Natalie Chapman was dead. She was the prime suspect, and clearly, she was the blonde woman in the Mercedes convertible who had been at the crime scene the night of the murder. Arla thought of the daughter Caroline, and her heart broke. Poor girl. She had lost both parents in the space of three days.
She looked up as Harry came in, holding two large cups of coffee. She took her cappuccino and sipped it gratefully.
Harry said, "Johnson is aware of the latest developments. Banerjee is doing the autopsy on Natalie as we speak."
"How's Lisa?"
"She's fine. Everyone is worried about you."
Harry hadn't touched his coffee. He had rings under his eyes, and he looked stressed. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she felt a distance between them. It gave her heart a chill, and she looked away. Harry was her soulmate. Over the last four years, she couldn't remember a time when she hadn't shared everything with him.
What she didn't share, he knew anyway, just by looking at her. She glanced at him, and their eyes met. He studied her in silence. Arla broke off contact again. She didn't know where they were headed, and it wasn't a nice feeling.
Harry sighed. "What happened there?"
Arla told him. Harry listened; his eyebrows knotted together. He said, "I guess that puts John Churchill out of the picture. Never fancied him as a burglar, in any case."
Arla nodded. "I agree. But now we don't know who the burglar is. It's possible the skin cells found under Dr Vaughan’s nails belong to him."
She shivered. An unknown killer stalking the streets was every detective's worst nightmare.
Harry said, "Rob and Rosslyn have gone to Hyde Park to take a statement from Shirley Linklater. She is Ro
chelle Pitt’s nanny."
Arla's mouth fell open. “Shirley is the nanny?”
Harry told her about the chocolate that Rosslyn had found at the rear of the Pitt garden.
"We should be able to get fingerprints from that. Hopefully, we'll get a match on IDENT-1."
Arla swung her legs off the bed. She removed the mask from her face, despite Harry's objections.
"We have a pattern now, right? The same guy who attacked Dr Vaughan in the car park also broke into the Pitt residence, and their nanny's house. Why?"
Harry held up a hand, frowning. "Put the mask back on your face, and I'll tell you." Arla rolled her eyes and put the mask back on. She took a few deep breaths of the oxygen, at Harry’s urging.
Harry said, "Maybe the burglar has plans on Emmanuel. Which means we need to ask Rochelle if there's anything in her past we need to know about. Perhaps a jilted lover."
"Rob and Rosslyn did the right thing by going to see her."
Arla narrowed her eyes as a sudden thought jolted her spine. Caroline had said Natalie was going to meet someone. What if Shirley was also meeting someone in Hyde Park?
She opened her mouth to speak, but Harry's phone rang. He answered, and she watched his eyes widen, and jaws clench together. He lowered the phone from his ears, and Arla knew it was bad news.
"They just found Shirley Linklater. She was sleeping on a park bench by the Serpentine Gallery. Emmanuel is missing."
CHAPTER 44
Harry stood on the path that led up to the Serpentine art gallery. He moved in a 360° circle, noting all the entries and exits. Rosslyn was sat on the park bench next to Shirley. Shirley was sobbing, holding her head. Rob came marching down, his face flushed red.
"No other roads into here apart from this one, guv."
"Then it has to be this path that connects to the car park over there." Harry indicated down the road, across the bridge. The car park wasn't visible, but it wasn't far away.
"Have you notified the Parks police?" Harry asked. "We need the CCTV images as soon as possible."
"They're working on it guv. Commander Johnson has also spoken to their chief."
"Good."
Harry indicated to Rosslyn, and she came up to him. He pointed to Shirley.
"Get her to the station. What has she said about her boyfriend?"
"His name is Greg Houldsworth. But that could be a fake name. She's been to his flat in Clapham, and she knows the address. A uniform team is heading down there now."
A group of men came down the path, diverting their attention. It was the scene of crime officers. Harry explained the situation to them quickly. The area around the gallery and the pond had been cordoned off with blue and white tape. The forensic officers, who had already changed into their blue Tyvek suits, got to work. They started by taking samples and fingerprints from the park bench.
Harry said, "The bastard took the pram, didn't he?"
Rosslyn spoke in a glum voice. "Yes guv. I feel so sorry for his parents."
Harry was thinking, his eyes still roving around the greenery surrounding the path, and the bridge. The bridge crossed the narrow Serpentine River, and was very much a part of Hyde Park.
"He must have parked there, and then taken off with the boy. Have we called traffic to get hold of CCTV from the roads?"
"Yes guv," Rob said.
A red and gold Parks police car, it's blue lights flashing silently, pulled up by the cordoned section. An officer got out and spoke briefly to the uniformed sergeant who was guarding the area. He lifted the tape and let the Parks police officer through. Harry walked up to greet him. He introduced himself, and they shook hands.
"I am Paul Oakenfold, the inspector in charge of Parks Police. My team have pulled up the CCTV images of this area. Would you like to come and have a look?"
Harry walked off with him, while Rob and Rosslyn headed back to the station with Shirley.
A few minutes later, Harry was leaning with his elbows on a table, his eyes fixed on a bank of monitors. An officer was going through the images, pointing at the different screens. Harry pointed at the image of a woman and a man walking down to earth the Serpentine Gallery with a pram. They were the only couple with a pram. The time stamp was a couple of hours ago.
"There it is. That's them. Can you please zoom in?" Harry asked.
"I need a close up of his face. Can you please email these loops to me?" Harry took out his phone and snapped off some photos from the screen. He sent the photos to Lisa and Geeta, who were at the station, waiting. They would upload the images to HOLMES-2, to see if they found a visual match.
Harry looked at the man closely. He was of average height, slim build, Caucasian. Dark brown hair, it seemed. He was dressed in a blue summer jacket with a brown vest, and dark jeans. Black trainers on his feet. No distinguishing marks in the face or hands, or the neck. He didn’t look familiar to Harry.
The CCTV rolled, and for several frames, they sat still on the park bench. Then Shirley leaned against the man, and fell asleep.
Harry watched in frustration as the man walked off with Emmanuel in his arms, taking the pram with him. They watched as he got into the white van, and drove off. Harry wrote down the van’s registration number, and forwarded it to Gita at the station.
“Unfortunately, we do not have jurisdiction on the roads outside,” Inspector Oakenfold said.
“No problem, you’ve been a great help. Would you mind checking back over the last two weeks to see if you can see him again? We might get a better view.”
“Sure, and if we find anything will forward it to your email.”
Harry rushed out, and spoke to Arla when she called from the hospital.
“I’m going to the suspect’s flat in Clapham. Can’t believe the bugger’s been there all this time, right under our noses,” Harry panted as he ran to his car. “I’ll call if I find anything.”
CHAPTER 45
Harry had to battle his way through the late afternoon traffic to reach Bluemont Street in Clapham. The man known as Greg Houldsworth had lived here, in an apartment block. He saw a squad car parked outside, and uniformed sergeant stood at the gates.
"SOC are upstairs guv," the uniformed sergeant said.
"Thanks. Did anyone find the white van?" Harry had already sent the car's registration number to the team on site.
The uniform constable, a new chap called David, shook his head. "Not parked here, guv."
Harry was getting impatient by the man's laid-back attitude. "Have you done a check of the whole block? How about the streets on both sides?"
The constable scratched his neck. "I'm not sure guv."
"Well David," Harry said, lowering his face to level with the constable’s, "You better make sure. Get your team and do a search in a one-mile radius, right now. See me back here in 15 minutes. A child has been abducted, and time is of the essence. Got it?"
David took a step back and gulped. Harry towered above him, and he could be intimidating when he wanted to. "Yes guv," the sergeant said, and ran off to the squad car.
Harry knew the flat number already, and he ran up the staircase, taking three at a time. The door was shut, with a uniformed constable outside. He nodded at Harry and opened the door.
The flat was a simple affair. A small one-bedroom flat, with a tiny lounge which served as the sitting and dining area. The kitchen was even smaller with a bathroom next to it.
A blue gown wearing SOC officer was on all fours on the carpet, carefully photographing something. Harry checked the apartment quickly, putting his gloves on.
Apart from the furniture, he found nothing. The dresser in the bedroom was completely empty, even the shoes were gone. There were no toiletries in the bathroom. In the kitchen cabinets he found some plates and cutlery, and a packet of pasta. He slammed cabinet door shut in frustration.
His phone beeped and glanced at it. He answered because it was Arla. She sounded like she was pacing up and down the ward.
"You're meant t
o be resting," Harry said.
“How can I rest with all this going on? Are you in the flat? Good, tell me what you found.”
Harry put the phone on loudspeaker and rested it on the kitchen worktop. He opened the cabinet doors below the kitchen sink and rummaged around. He found the gas meter, and two bottles of wine which had not been opened.
From above, he could hear Arla's voice. He came out, banging his head in the process. He cursed and rubbed the back of his head, and stood up with the phone in his hand.
"What did you say?" He grumbled.
"Have you checked the garbage?"
"There was none in the bedroom," Harry said, opening the remaining kitchen cabinet door. Immediately, he saw the bin inside. "Hang on, there’s something here. I'll call you back."
He pulled the bin out. He gingerly lifted two used containers of microwaveable ready meals. That was followed by an empty wine bottle. The rest of the black bin liner had a few packets, and some discarded food. He emptied the contents into the kitchen sink.
Harry picked up the bin and held it to the light. Nothing else was left, but the stench wasn’t nice. He curled his nostrils, then put the bin on the floor. Averting his face, he rummaged around with his hand. He felt some dampness inside, and his hand brushed against something soft like paper. He pulled out a small, square piece of paper stuck to the bin liner. It looked like a ticket, and said English National Heritage on the top. He held it up to the light.
Below the top heading there was a range of numbers, and at the bottom it said Entrance with the date on it. To the right the letters Dover Castle were printed.
Dover Castle?
Harry frowned. He knew there was a castle in Dover, but had never visited. He looked at the ticket again closely. Clearly, Greg Houldsworth had been to Dover Castle. Questions were churning inside Harry's mind, and also a thought he couldn't quite grasp. It was bothering him. He put the ticket into a specimen bag and walked out into the living room, where the scene of crime officer was still taking samples from the carpet.
