by Joy Ellis
‘Or a nutter, guv.’
‘Correct, or a nutter. And from the expected turnout for the vigil tonight, she obviously had plenty of friends. Which brings me neatly to the topic of the vigil. As you know, one of the organisers had a note pushed into her pocket, telling her to cancel the service, or someone else would die. Superintendent Woodhall wants us to take the threat very seriously, and apart from a very visible show of uniforms, he wants a large contingent of plain clothed officers, all wired up and mingling with the crowd. The woman who was threatened has insisted on still going, so Niall, I’m going to ask you and Jessie to keep her in close range at all times. It may not be a personal threat, but we can’t risk ignoring it.’
Niall and Jess nodded. ‘No problem, ma’am. We’ll glue ourselves to her.’
‘Do that. We have too many dead people around Greenborough for my liking.’ She pushed her hands deep into her jacket pockets. ‘You should also know that DC Barnes is on sick leave at present, so you detectives are one down for a while. Sorry about that, although you might like the extra overtime.’ Nikki continued swiftly, allowing no time for comment. ‘So, all of you, get ferreting into the backgrounds of her clients, and not just the cranks. Look at everyone, especially those who did not respond to treatment. Maybe someone was expecting too much from her and resents the fact that they are still suffering from raging beriberi or whatever. And check out the other therapists. Maybe someone was jealous of her popularity. Now, in the tradition of leaving the best until last, I have one more piece of information for you.’
All their faces were turned to her. They had seen that look before. No one spoke.
‘Before he died, Andrew Gregory named two of his attackers, a Mr Fabian and a Mr Venables, and described the third, who was in charge. The description matches that of Stephen Cox.’
A murmur of shock rippled around the room.
‘That’s a big step up from drug dealing,’ stated Dave grimly.
‘If Stephen Cox is working here in Greenborough, every police officer is in danger. He is ruthless. Those of you who haven’t crossed his path are fortunate. Just pray that you never do. Right now we have other things to get out of the way, like this vigil, but as soon as we get Greenborough back to normal, we will be moving heaven and earth to catch him. Is that clear?’
Everyone nodded.
‘Okay, off you go, and be back at nine tonight, ready for the service at the river. And God help us all!’
* * *
Joseph tapped the name Derek Lyle into his computer and waited for a match. In a short time he had before him a potted history of a life of crime. It was mainly small time stuff. Earlier in his career, Lyle had been involved in a couple of thefts, and later he’d tried his hand at car ringing, but mostly he had been handling stolen goods. The man was a fence, nothing deep and dirty, just a cog keeping the black market wheel in motion. Joseph muttered to himself, ‘Not exactly the sort of man who would attract a violent hitman. There’s got to be more.’
It took a while, reading a myriad of reports and statements, but finally he arrived at it, a simple line in a record of an interview. It stated that an uncle of his had corroborated Lyle’s alibi for the time of a robbery. This uncle was named as Robert Leonard, age sixty-five, of the Carborough Estate, Greenborough. A Leonard! His name was different because it came from his mother’s side, but he was still a Leonard. Joseph jumped up and looked across to Nikki’s office. The door was open and the room was empty. ‘Where’s the boss?’ he called out to no one in particular.
‘With the superintendent, Sarge,’ called back Sheila, the office manager, ‘and she’s likely to be there for some time. It’s a meeting with the uniformed officers about the safest way to police the vigil tonight.’
Joseph went back to his own small office. He didn’t want to tell the others before Nikki, so he guessed it would have to wait for another hour or so.
His phone shrilled and he saw Mickey’s name. Joseph prayed the boy was not in trouble. ‘Mickey? Are you okay?’
‘I’m good. Can we talk?’
‘Sure. Now?’
‘Meet me down by the river, on the seats next to the Fisherman’s Knot car park. Know where I mean?’
‘I know it.’ The spot with no camera coverage. ‘Ten minutes?’
‘I’ll be there.’
Joseph stared at the phone. He knew he should take someone with him, but if he did, Mickey would be off like a rat up a drainpipe. He walked over to where Cat was working.
‘I’m going out for half an hour. If the boss asks where I am, tell her I’m following up a bit of street info from a snout, okay?’
‘Want some company? I’m going goggle-eyed checking all these patient records.’
‘No, you keep at it. It’s important, now that we think Helen’s killer could be connected to her business.’
Cat gave him a long-suffering smile. ‘Yeah, yeah. Well, good luck with your snout.’
* * *
Mickey was there before him. Joseph flopped down next to him on the bench. The tidal river was flowing fast and looked cold and unkind. Not a nice place to end your days. ‘Hello, my friend.’
‘Joe.’ They shook hands rather formally, then Mickey said, ‘Archie sent me.’
Joseph nodded, ‘Still holding the reins?’
‘Until his dying breath, but I reckon that won’t be long now.’
‘And do the rest of the family know about this meeting?’
‘They not only know, but are in agreement.’
‘Even Raymond?’
‘Raymond in particular.’ He looked directly into Joseph’s eyes. ‘We want to trade.’
Joseph was mighty glad he’d done his research into the body in the river. He had a very good idea where this was going. ‘Information?’
Mickey nodded gravely. Joseph could hardly believe that this self-assured teenager was the crazy youngster he had once taken under his wing.
‘You wanted to know what was going down on the Carborough? I can tell you all you want to know, if you will answer one question.’ For the first time, Mickey looked apprehensive. ‘You don’t even have to answer, Joe. Just tell me if I’m right or not.’
‘Ask me the question, and I’ll see what I can do.’
Mickey exhaled. ‘There is a rumour on the streets that the man pulled from the river was an Eastern European. His death was like several others in recent months, a falling out between gang members, maybe over drugs, or even a row over a woman that got out of hand.’
Mickey’s words were stilted and Joseph knew instantly that he had been carefully coached. He wanted to smile, but dare not. ‘That’s what we were led to believe, yes.’
‘But that’s not the case, is it?’
‘No, Mickey, it isn’t.’
The boy visibly relaxed and looked on the verge of letting rip with a loud whoop of delight. ‘He’s one of us, isn’t he? He’s a Leonard.’
Joseph simply nodded. It was going to be public knowledge very soon, and he felt it was a fair trade. They needed that information about the Carborough.
Mickey puffed out his cheeks and continued. ‘One of the family went missing. Raymond thinks he stumbled on something he wasn’t meant to, and was taken out by some serious underworld players.’
‘Was his name Lyle?’
‘That’s right, Derek Lyle. He’s not a big cheese, if you catch my drift, but all family are . . .’
‘Sacrosanct?’
‘Yeah, that’s the word.’
‘And that is the cause of the bad feeling on the estate?’
‘The Leonards know who is behind it, and they are going to go after him. That’s the reason for the scary mood on the Carborough, Joe. There’s going to be a showdown. They failed once, and he has come back and hurt them. But they won’t fail a second time. They are going to take out Cox and his henchmen.’
Joseph closed his eyes. Oh Christ, the vigil! What if a bloody turf war kicked off while they were all tied up at a highly emotio
nal public meeting?
‘You look pretty worried, Joe.’
‘You have no idea! Did you hear about this candlelit service on the Waterway tonight?’
‘For that nice lady from the clinic?’
‘Yeah, and it’s bound to attract a load of troublemakers, so if the Carborough erupts at the same time, we are stuffed!’
Mickey touched his arm. ‘It won’t. Chill out, Joe. I’ll speak to Archie. He won’t let the family rain on her parade.’
Joseph frowned. He wasn’t sure what Mickey meant.
‘That Helen woman spent some time with Archie. In fact it was Derek Lyle who drove him over to see her at that clinic. Archie said she really helped him. So don’t worry, Joe, the Leonards won’t cause trouble tonight, I promise.’
But Joseph was worried. The Leonards might be on their side for once, but Stephen Cox and his band of hitmen certainly were not. Somehow he didn’t think they’d agree to an amnesty for a dead aromatherapist.
* * *
‘Nikki?’
Eve Anderson was the last person Nikki was expecting to hear. She had only just returned to her office when the call came. ‘Yes, it’s me, how are you?’
‘I’m very well, but I know how busy you must be, so I’ll keep it short. Would you be free to come for dinner one evening this week?’
Nikki was on the verge of saying, ‘No’, when she remembered telling Helen that she couldn’t make their meeting because of work. So she said, ‘I’d love to, and Eve, please don’t think I’m prevaricating, but I’m at the heart of a murder enquiry right now, and I don’t want to let you down. Can I ring you after tomorrow and we’ll set a firm date? We have a vigil taking place tonight, and it could mean trouble.’
‘Then you take care of yourself. Is it the service for that young woman who was murdered?’
Even after almost two years of knowing that Eve Anderson was her birth mother, it still felt weird talking to her. Eve was a comparative stranger to her, but Nikki always felt a hint of excitement, an unaccountable feeling of affinity, whenever they spoke. ‘Yes, Helen Brook. She was my friend.’
‘Oh my dear, I’m so sorry. How awful for you.’
Nikki couldn’t remember when someone other than Joseph and her team had been honestly concerned about her feelings. It made her want to cry. ‘You’re right, it is pretty awful, but I have a job to do, and I’m determined to get whoever did it.’
‘Oh, I’m certain you will, Nikki. By the way, you are very welcome to bring Joseph with you for dinner. I get the feeling that the two of you don’t have many secrets.’
Nikki would love to take him with her, but she knew that he would refuse. He wouldn’t want to get in the way. ‘I’ll ask him, Eve, but I suspect he’ll take a rain check.’
‘Ah, yes, your Sergeant Easter is a very sensitive man, for a police officer. But I won’t hold you up any longer. You look after yourself, and ring me when you can.’
‘Is everything alright?’ Nikki asked. There was something out of kilter in Eve’s voice.
‘Yes, absolutely fine, but I did want to talk to you. Actually, I am selling my house in Coningsby. It’s far too big for me and I want to downsize. I might even be going abroad for a while. You might think it odd, but what I choose to do rather depends on you. Anyway, we’ll talk over dinner, as soon as you are free.’
Nikki said goodbye and closed her phone, wondering what Eve had meant. Going abroad? Nikki felt let down. She’d only just found her. Was she now going to go away again? Surely not! Kathy had been her hands-on mother. Kathy was the one who had loved her, fed her, clothed her, taken her to school, cheered her on and supported her in every way possible, but Eve had given birth to her. And Nikki had discovered that she had spent the rest of her life deeply regretting having given her up. Nikki sighed. She knew all about the curve balls that life threw at you. It wasn’t possible to be angry with Eve, or with her father. Neither of them had wanted to hurt anyone. The only people to have been hurt were the two of them.
‘Room for a little one?’
Rory stood in her doorway, the two obligatory coffees in his hands and a bunch of reports tucked under his arm.
‘Always room for you, my friend. Come on in.’
They sat together and drank the office machine’s apology for coffee, while Rory sorted out his papers.
‘Well, so far Helen’s house has thrown up little of use. The killer was meticulous. Naturally there are hairs, fibres, all sorts of natural debris throughout. After all, the place was a treatment room and she massaged people there. You would expect it to be practically afloat with microscopic skin flakes, but even so, nothing showed up that directly indicates an intruder.’ Rory pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. ‘However, we have isolated seven separate DNA samples, other than those matched to Helen herself, and to Andrew Gregory. So there is at least something on file. Should you pick up a suspect and he swears he’s never set foot in that room, you’ll be able to prove otherwise.’
‘What about the conservatory blinds? It had to be the killer who closed them.’
‘There was nothing visible on the control switch. I got my best examiner on that. It takes considerable expertise to lift a latent print, but again, nothing.’
‘And the blood?’ Nikki didn’t really want to think about this. She was still getting flashbacks to a brownish-red puddle, seeping into the new yellow carpet. ‘Could the killer have done all that work and not stepped in it, or got it on him?’
Rory’s expression was odd, almost apologetic. ‘That’s why I’ve brought you all these reports myself. Helen’s death wasn’t exactly straightforward.’
Nikki stiffened. Rory could be flippant about the most serious, gruesome and morbid cases, but now he was serious and . . . sympathetic. ‘Go on.’
‘There’s no gentle way to say this. Helen was alive when the mandala was painted onto her body.’
Nikki heard herself assuring Andrew that Helen had known nothing before she died. ‘But . . .’
‘I know, I know. It was wrongly assumed that she had died when her throat was lacerated, and the “artwork” done afterwards. I’m certain that’s what the killer wanted us to believe. Now we have the toxicology reports back, we find evidence of a drug in her system. I made the most painstaking re-examination of her body, and found a tiny puncture wound, a needle mark.’
‘So let me get this straight. She was drugged, her body painted, and then her throat was cut. Is that right? Well, at least the killer drugged her first.’
‘Not exactly.’
This was going from bad to worse.
Rory looked at her grimly. ‘The drug found was a muscle relaxant, the type used in surgical operations. Have you heard of curare?’
‘South American Indians hunting with poisoned arrows? What exactly are you saying, Rory?’
‘The drug was a skeleto-muscular relaxant belonging to the alkaloid family of organic compounds, i.e., curare-based. D-tubocurarine was administered intravenously. It induces a flaccid paralysis. I know you won’t want to hear this, Nikki, but she was fully awake. She was aware of her surroundings and everything that was happening — and totally unable to move a muscle.’ He exhaled loudly. ‘I’m really sorry, but there is no doubt. She knew exactly what the killer was going to do, but was powerless to stop him.’
An ice-cold tremor ran down Nikki’s back. This was inconceivable! What Helen must have suffered! Oh, if only she had kept that appointment! Nikki let her head fall into her hands. She rubbed her eyes, and then looked at Rory helplessly.
‘Now, I didn’t tell you this to send you off on another guilt trip, my friend. What I said before stands. Whoever did this was unstoppable. He would have found a way to kill her. It was all carefully prepared, and nothing was going to stop him from carrying it out, so remember that, okay?’
‘If that’s meant to make me feel better, it doesn’t.’
‘Then get over it, Detective Inspector, and catch this sadistic bastar
d! That’s how you say sorry to Helen for whatever it is you mistakenly think you’ve done, not moping around, wailing like some lost five-year-old.’
At the harsh words, so uncharacteristic of Rory, Nikki sat upright, about to tear back into him. Then she saw him grin.
‘Oooh, I’ve always wanted to be the strong, commanding type. I might actually get to like it!’ He stared at her, daring her not to smile. ‘Now, back to business. Whoever did this knew their anaesthetics. They administered just enough, at regular intervals, to keep her immobile, then, when the job was done a larger dose was given, causing a massive histamine release, followed by cardiac collapse.’
Nikki tried to think logically. ‘If it was a muscle relaxant, wouldn’t she have needed some sort of respiratory aid? She’d have stopped breathing, wouldn’t she?’
‘Not with curare. It acts at the junction between nerves and muscles and produces complete paralysis of all voluntary movement, without having any effect on consciousness. The paralysis affects the eyes, ears, toes, then the neck and limbs, and then the trunk. If allowed to wear off that happens in reverse. In extreme cases the diaphragm muscle would be the last to be affected, and then, yes, the patient would be unable to breathe.’
‘And it’s used in surgery?’
‘Yes, as a paralysant in general anaesthesia, amongst other things. It’s also used to reduce spasms and control seizures, like in tetanus. In the past it was used in conjunction with shock therapy, to reduce the incidence of vertebral fractures — one of the nastier and rarely talked about side-effects of electroconvulsive therapy.’
‘Where the hell did the killer get hold of this stuff?’
‘Depends on his profession, doesn’t it? Easy, if you are involved in medicine or pharmaceuticals, and don’t forget, the malachite green used for the body art is a chemical. This may be the work of a chemist, or a research scientist.’
Nikki shook her head. ‘I can’t see it. That kind of person has a scientific background, they wouldn’t meddle with astrological star signs and mystical symbols. All the scientists I’ve ever come across look down on the esoteric in any form.’
