A Killer's Calling: Incite to Murder 1

by John Stuart Owen

  ‘Slow down detective, sit tight; we know what we’re about.’

  Ten minutes later, her phone leaped into life. ‘Yes?’ she blurted.

  ‘That you detective? . . . Slade from records.’

  ‘Yes: what have you got?’

  ‘Car is registered to a Dennis Parker of “Costalotte,” Pinfold Close, Solihull. And by the way, Mr. Parker was reported missing by his wife, a couple of hours ago.’

  ‘Thanks for your help; sorry I was a bit short earlier but . . .’

  ‘Good night detective.’ The line fell silent.

  God, that’s only about four miles from here. Orla scrambled from her car and hurried back down the track to brief Matt; she met him coming towards her.

  ‘Right, I've got the car collection sorted; what have you got?’

  ‘Car registered to a Dennis Parker and guess what? he lives in Solihull! Wife reported him missing earlier tonight.’

  Matt looked at his watch. ‘It’s almost two o’clock! She’s going to be sitting up waiting for some news. C’mon . . . Let’s go! We can drop your car off in Knowle.’

  Chapter 12

  Twenty minutes later, the detectives turned into Pinfold Close; they slowed to a crawl. ‘God, I wish people would use numbers instead of crappy names for their houses.’ Matt cursed as he peered through the gloom.

  ‘Stop moaning, it’s only a short cul de sac, and anyway, at this time of night, just look for a house with some lights on. There you are, on the left!’

  Matt pulled up quietly. ‘Yes, that’s it.’ A small wooden sign spelt out clearly, “Costalotte.”

  As they approached the door, Orla whispered, ‘Wonder what we will find here?’ She rang the bell: a curtain in the lounge bay window was immediately pulled aside. A bespectacled face peered out into the darkness then disappeared reforming as a shadow that fell across the leaded glass front door; it opened slowly. Orla spoke quietly. ‘Good evening Ma’am, would you be Mrs. Parker?’

  ‘Yes, is it about my husband? Do you know where he is? He didn’t come home.’

  ‘I’m Detective Graham and this is my colleague, Detective Inspector Black; may we come in?’

  ‘Oh dear, yes of course.’ She led them into the front room. ‘Please sit down,’ and she motioned towards a couple of winged back chairs.

  Matt was uneasy, God I hate this! ‘Mrs. Parker, I’m afraid that we have some distressing news for you. There is no easy way to say it. We have found your husband’s car burnt out in Knowle and unfortunately there was a body in the driving seat. Not until we have made a positive ID can we say with certainty that it is your husband, but I’m afraid in the absence of any other possibilities we have to assume the worst. Could anyone else have been driving your husband’s car?’

  She gulped as the words hit home. ‘No . . . No! . . . He wouldn’t let anyone drive his car; he was very proud of it . . . kept it clean . . . spotless. How did it set on fire? Was he in an accident? Why was he in Knowle?’ She stifled a sob and clutched a hand towel to her mouth.

  Matt responded, ‘I’m afraid we haven’t any answers for you at the moment.’

  ‘Was there any sign of my little dog?’ she asked, lifting her eyes hopefully.

  Orla spoke. ‘Yes, there was a small dog in the car with him, I’m afraid it was also dead.’

  Mrs. Parker sat staring into space clutching the cloth to her face. She whispered, barely audibly, ‘I’m not going to see them again, am I? . . . Oh my poor Pancho,’ she sobbed quietly.

  Orla placed a hand on her arm. ‘I’m so sorry; was your husband Spanish?’

  ‘No . . . that was my doggie’s name.’ Matt looked away, his face rigid, showing no emotion; inside he was convulsing. Orla knew immediately that she’d got it wrong. She looked up fiercely, a sort of help me out here look .

  Matt shook his head; clearing his throat he spoke. ‘Mrs. Parker, I’m afraid we need to ask you a few questions about your husband’s movements last night to try and make some sense out of what has gone on. I do understand how distressing this is for you. Do you have someone who could come and stay with you tonight? I realise it’s very late, a relative perhaps?’

  ‘My daughter will come, she lives locally. I did call her earlier and she keeps calling me back, but she has young children, it’s difficult you know. I’ll call her now.’ And with that, she excused herself and disappeared into an adjoining room.

  ‘What do you think?’ Matt screwed his face in response to Orla’s question. They sat in silence waiting for Mrs. Parker to return. Matt looked around the room, taking in the ornaments that were on display; photos of grandchildren took prominence.

  Nothing here, that screams out money. A straw, raffia bull took pride of place on the sideboard. Yuk. His thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Parker’s return.

  ‘My daughter; she’ll be on her way shortly.’

  Orla jumped to her feet. ‘Can I make you a cup of tea?’ Not waiting for an answer, she disappeared into the kitchen.

  Matt set to work. ‘Mrs. Parker, what time did your husband go out last night?’

  ‘It was Nine thirty.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘He always goes out at nine thirty every night, to the local shop. He gets the milk and bread, his cigarettes and anything we’re short of for the next day. We don’t do big shops anymore, now that it’s just the two of us.’

  ‘I understand. . . . Did you notice anything unusual about last night? Did your husband appear to be stressed?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘Everything was normal. He didn’t often take Pancho but it was a nice evening so he did.’ . . . Orla was back with the tea. ‘You found everything my dear?’

  ‘Yes, everything . . . sugar?’

  ‘Not for me, thank you.’

  The doorbell rang! ‘I’ll get it.’ Orla opened the door to be met by a burly woman who pushed past her.

  ‘Where’s Mom? What the hell’s happened to Dad?’

  ‘I’m in here Grace.’

  ‘What’s happened?’ Grace shot a glance at Matt.

  ‘Grace, my name is Detective Inspector Black; a body has been found in your father’s burnt out car. There has been no identification as yet, but we have to fear the worst.’

  Grace cupped her face with both hands. ‘Oh my God . . . No!’

  ‘I’m afraid we have no details at the moment. I realise this is going to be a very

  distressing and difficult time for you both but we do need to ask you a few questions in an attempt to see if we can throw some light on who would have wanted to hurt Mr. Parker.’

  ‘You mean he was killed! It wasn’t an accident!’ Grace again cupped her face in her hands. ‘Oh Lord . . . you must be mistaken!’

  Orla had been sitting quietly on the side, ‘Your father was killed in the car, prior to it being set on fire, that much we know.’

  Grace was now a trembling wreck; she held onto her mother. ‘God this can’t be true?’ Choking back the tears, mother and daughter held each other; slowly they regained some composure.

  ‘What did your husband do for a living?’ Matt asked.

  ‘He is . . . was, a schoolteacher; taught History and RE at Lyndon Heath just over the way.’ and she waved vaguely with her right hand in the general direction.

  ‘How long has he taught there?’

  ‘He’s been there forever; well it seems like forever. We moved here when we got married and he started there then, and we’ve been married for thirty years . . . next month.’

  ‘How old was he?’

  ‘Fifty six last July.’ She clutched her hands together. Matt sensed that she was all in and they would not get any worthwhile information from her that night.

  ‘We are going to go now Mrs. Parker but Detective Graham will call back tomorrow morning to take an official statement from you, if that’s OK. I’m so sorry that we had to call tonight with this dreadful news. We will keep you informed of any developments as and when they occur.’

&nbs
p; Grace stepped forward, ‘I’ll see you to the door.’

  ‘Tomorrow morning, about eleven o’clock; will that be all right Mrs. Parker?’

  The pale and distraught lady answered with a slow nod.

  ‘OK then: good night.’ The door closed quietly behind them. Matt walked briskly down the short drive; Orla struggled to keep up. ‘What’s the rush?’

  He looked back at her. ‘I thought that went well.’

  Orla couldn’t see the smirk, but she sensed it. ‘Don’t even go there,’ she hissed. ‘That poor woman; I just felt for her.’

  Once in the car, Matt leant forward; he gripped the steering wheel tightly but made no effort to start the car. ‘What is it Matt? What’s up?’

  ‘Something’s not right! I don’t know what it is . . . but this whole thing just doesn’t fit together. We need that forensic report . . . maybe they’ll find something that we can move on. I’m gonna have to sleep on it Orla but God knows what I’ll tell Janet Warley; I’m going to have to brief her first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘You mean today; it’s four o’clock already.’

  Matt yawned as he started the car. ‘Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun. Let’s collect your car and we’ll call it a night.’

  Chapter 13

  Janet Warley sat poker faced as Matt recalled the details of the previous night’s events.

  ‘So it’s definitely connected with the previous double murders. It looks like we have a serial killer on the prowl in our backyard.’

  Matt was cautious in his response. ‘Certainly we have a connection between these homicides but there are some details about this latest death that just don’t sit right.’

  ‘How do you mean? From what you’ve told me, the method used to kill this man was to the finest detail, exactly the same as the previous two. How is it that it doesn’t “sit right” with you?’

  ‘I’ll be able to give you a better idea where my thoughts are, once I’ve sieved through the forensic report that hopefully will be in our hands by this afternoon.’

  ‘I hope so Matt. I’ve got to keep others informed.’ She points upwards. ‘And I’m at a loss as to what to tell them. Please, I need clarity not a gut feeling that something doesn’t sit right.’

  * * *

  DI Kevin Crystal paced the floor. Agitated, he looked at his watch; then at his phone. Ring dammit . . . ring. Stumbling out of his office, he bumped into Charlie Frayne.

  ‘What are you doing here Kev?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Thought you’d be out on site. Call came in last night; a car was found burnt out with the body of the driver behind the wheel . . . you know same as the others.’ Turning on his heel Crystal disappeared back into his office slamming the door behind him. Charlie was taken aback. ‘Whoops!’

  Crystal was fuming. What the fucks going on? . . . Why didn't that call come to me?

  Janet Warley picked up her phone; Crystal let rip. ‘What the hell’s going on? Why wasn’t I informed that . . . ?’

  ‘Come through to my office. I need to speak with you . . . now!’

  Cursing, he dropped the phone and made off. Ignoring the PA in the outer office, he burst in on the deputy chief constable. Surprised on seeing Matt, he motioned towards him with a dismissive wave. ‘What’s he doing here?’

  ‘I’m aware of the development in your case Kevin, but I’m afraid that you will no longer be involved. Detective Inspector Black will be taking over your role as chief investigating officer so I need you to stand down. I want you to make available all files and notes relating to the double murders that you have been working towards solving.’

  ‘Oh . . . so Detective Inspector Black is now flavour of the month! After all the work I’ve put in . . . and now we’ve got a chance to move forward with the investigation of a new victim, you’ve given me the chop!’

  ‘I don’t know where you would have obtained that information but I’m not prepared to discuss these developments here; I will speak with you tomorrow. Thank you, now would you kindly leave us!’

  As Crystal moved to leave, he scowled at Matt. ‘Catherine has been begging me to jack this lot in; wants us to spend more time together . . . yer know special time. At least this new job will give you something to do; make a change from tossing yerself off as you watch the box.’ And with that he left the office.

  ‘I’m so sorry Matt’ . . . Janet Warley was visibly shocked. ‘He’ll not get away with that! I’ll see he’s disciplined. I should have expected some snide comments to be levelled at you but . . .’

  ‘Janet please . . . I wouldn’t have expected anything less from a cretin like

  Crystal. He’s seething and unfortunately he won’t leave it there.’

  ‘Yes I know in fact after I called you last night, I knew he would throw a wobbler so I arranged for DC Graham’s and your own office equipment to be transferred to Wellesbourne. It will be up and running by lunchtime so you won’t have Kevin Crystal to worry about; you can concentrate on the job in hand.’

  Now back in his office, Matt looked around; there were always more papers in his in tray than his out tray which today was empty. Charts covered the walls; his prize Pirelli calendar took pride of place and an oblong mirror hung on the only bit of free wall that was left. This room had been home to Matt for some five years. He yawned as a premature feeling of nostalgia set in; I’m gonna miss this place. He looked at his watch; two o’clock . . . almost. Wonder how Orla’s getting on?

  He didn’t have long to wait; she appeared at the door, her smile prompting one in return. ‘How did you get on with the chief; was she happy with your report?’

  Matt screwed up his face. ‘She was a pain in the arse; Crystal was also there and he was a bigger pain, but more to the point, how did you get on?’

  Orla excitedly began her brief. ‘Mrs. Parker was still a bit shell-shocked but she did open up. It seems that about a week ago, Dennis came in from his evening trip to the local shop very upset. He wouldn’t let on what had happened and was withdrawn for a couple of days. Eventually Esther, that’s her name, managed to wheedle out what had upset him. Some guy had nearly collided with him as he was driving away from the convenience store; sort of a road rage reaction. Called him for everything and had been very threatening, but what is really interesting is that this person said that he knew Dennis from long ago and that he was a marked man. What do you make of that?’

  Not waiting for an answer she pushed on. ‘And listen to this, I knocked on a few doors, and guess what? Bingo! There’s always a busybody and I found her, one house up, across the road; a Mrs. Dewhurst.

  She was in the front bedroom and heard Mr. Parker’s car start up. She looked out and watched him reverse out of the drive. At that moment, she saw a man get out of a car parked in the next door’s drive. He walked quickly to Mr. Parker’s car, opened the back door, driver’s side, and got in. She said she watched for a little while because the car didn’t drive straight off . . . but eventually it did.’

  ‘Wow!’ Matt was impressed. ‘You have been busy.’

  ‘And that’s not all; the house next door where this guy parked . . . the people are away on holiday, so the house is empty. What do you think of that?’ She stood back, breathless.

  ‘I think you’ve done a fantastic job Orla. We’ve actually got something to work with. Interesting that he parked next door; indicates possibility of some local knowledge. This is the only sighting we have of anyone connected with these murders. Any chance of an identification; person . . . car maybe?

  ‘All she could come up with was he was quite tall, wore a sort of cap and the car was small; not a hatch, and dark in colour. Oh! I forgot, the car was gone by the morning.’

  ‘Well it’s a start; what we need now is the forensic report to see if we are on the right track. I know I wasn’t present at the investigation of the first two murders but this third one, this latest incident doesn’t fit into my theory that these deaths were the result of some so
rt of love triangle. I don’t see our Mr. Parker being involved in some tryst with a lady of the night. Do you?’

  Orla looked pensive. ‘Doesn’t have to be a lady! And have you considered that Kevin might have been on the right track?’

  Matt’s riposte was swift and biting. ‘Kevin Crystal isn’t capable of a rational, reasonable thought; so in answer to your question . . . no!’

  Orla bristling with indignation turned away, cursing under her breath. Matt continued, thinking out loud, muttering, as his thoughts moved on. Orla’s sulk went unnoticed.

  ‘Orla . . . we need that forensic report, chop, chop! Can you email them; see

  What’s holding them up? They know it’s urgent.’

  The response was almost immediate . . . Report attached.

  ‘Let’s see what we have here!’ She began to read out loud. Matt leant over her shoulder trying to read the text.

  Cause of death: Asphyxiation due to strangulation by ligature.

  Other injuries: Broken left cheekbone.

  Left lung pierced from behind by bicycle spoke. This action was undertaken after death.

  No smoke inhalation.

  Body was burned beyond recognition.

  Car fire. Evidence of firelighter placed beneath driver’s seat.

  No fingerprints or other forensic evidence was recovered from the automobile.

  Points of interest:-

  Dog’s neck was broken during strangulation of male victim.

  * * *

  Orla waited expectantly, ‘What do you think?’

  ‘As I see it, there are a number of points that differ from the previous cases.

  The victim is a local guy and much older . . . the others were young reps away from home. Also, the killer didn’t use his own garrotting cable.’

  Orla was quick to respond. ‘Maybe he was just opportunistic . . . the leash was available.’

  Matt grunted. ‘Maybe . . . but then, he physically set about the guy, like it was personal. I mean look how hard he punched him; broke his cheek bone.’

  Orla countered, ‘The second one had his toe shot off!’

  ‘But the bicycle spoke’ . . . he paused. ‘The bicycle spoke was used in the first two homicides to inflict pain and maybe subdue and control the victims before they were dispatched; but in this case, the spoke was inserted into the body after he had killed him. Give me a bloody good reason as to why on earth would he do that? What bothers me more than anything is that he must have wanted us to link the murders. I can think of no other reason to use the spoke. I mean, we know he had a gun . . . if it was a contract killing, why didn’t he just shoot him. No this was personal . . . as were the others.’