by Conrad Jones
Annie listened but she wasn’t feeling Stirling’s theory. It was solid thinking but she didn’t think that he was being open minded enough. She stepped back from the map to look at it in its entirety. The area that it represented was vast. “No one could begin to search an area this wide. Simon Barton might as well be buried on the moon,” she sighed. The newspaper headlines caught her eye again. “Simon went missing during the height of our investigation into the Crosby Beach murders, right?” she asked herself. “Did Barton feel that he had some kind of connection to Brendon Ryder or was it something else completely?”
“I don’t follow.”
Annie pointed to the area of Crosby Beach. “If he was following the case as it unfolded, then maybe he was trying to offer the investigation a different suspect.”
“You’ve lost me, Guv.”
“What if he was innocent?”
“My gut says he wasn’t”
“Ignore your gut for a minute,” Annie gestured at the map. “What if his alibi is genuine and he didn’t abduct him.” She looked at Stirling and turned her palms upwards. “What if he thought Simon was taken by a killer like Brendon Ryder or a local paedophile?” Stirling’s face was a picture of confusion. “What if Barton wasn’t looking for a dumpsite to use himself and he was in fact, looking for where Simon’s body had been dumped?”
CHAPTER 26
When Annie stepped out of the lift at MIT, Alec waved at her from his office. His face was flushed red and she could see Kathy Brooks standing behind him. She felt a jolt of adrenalin surging through her. Forensic results were such a rush. Finding trace evidence was exciting enough but finally receiving the true interpretation of their relevance to a case was another thing totally. It was like the green light at the start of a race. The wait between finding trace and receiving the results was a tortured limbo. Theories were useful but concrete evidence was like gold dust. She headed for his office without stopping to speak to anyone. Her detectives were busy, each engrossed in their role in the investigation. When she stepped into the office, Kathy looked drawn and tired.
“I believe my team are going to be busy at the Barton residence,” Kathy smiled thinly. “What happened?”
Annie shrugged off her coat and smoothed her trousers as she sat down. She took a deep breath and smiled. “Peter Barton locked himself in his cellar and blew his head off,” Annie sighed. “There’s no question as to whether the arresting team influenced his actions or not. He was on his way into the cellar when they knocked on the door. From the evidence we found, he was immersed in some kind of depressive obsession with unsolved murders.” She looked at Alec. “We think the Crimewatch appeal and a bottle of scotch might have pushed him over the edge.”
“You said he was tracking unsolved murder cases?” Alec prompted. The lines on his face deepened.
“Hundreds of them going back ten years or more,” Annie nodded. “He seemed to be looking for something. There were detailed search patterns, maps marked with the coordinates of murders and abductions and press cuttings from all over Europe and the States.”
“A troubled mind?” Kathy said folding her arms. “Guilt maybe?”
“I’m not so sure,” Annie shook her head and looked at the floor. There was so much to take in and make sense of that it made her head hurt. “Simon Barton was abducted at the height of Brendon Ryder’s reign and Barton was tracking the case in detail along with others,” Annie explained. “He was the main suspect in his nephew’s abduction and I think that Barton was desperate to find another one,” she sighed. “We checked his car on the way out. The boot was full of search equipment.”
“What do you mean, equipment?” Alec frowned.
“He had four metal detectors, spades, a pick-axe, trowels and wellington boots,” she explained. “It could be that he had a legitimate hobby treasure hunting but I’ve got a hunch from the markings on his maps that he was looking for Simon Barton’s body.” Alec blew air through his front teeth making a quiet whistling sound and made a steeple with his fingers beneath his chin. Kathy looked disturbed by the thought. “We’ll have to sift through the mountains of data that he collected to have any idea of what was going on in his head.” She shrugged. “Worst case scenario is that he was an innocent man desperate to clear his name but couldn’t take the scrutiny anymore, or best case is he was a murdering paedophile drowning in guilt. Whatever it is, the result is unchangeable.” She stood up and leaned against the wall. “I can’t allow this to bog down the investigation. All I need to know for now is if Barton had anything to do with this case.”
“I agree,” Alec said. “If we find anything relating to the original investigation into Simon Barton then we pass the information back to Halewood.” He sat back in his chair and nodded to Kathy. “Let’s not get sidetracked. We need to hear what you have got.”
“I thought that you would never ask,” she tutted sarcastically. “This might cheer you up a bit.” She said holding up a file to Annie.
“Please give me some answers,” Annie sighed and sat down. “I need to put some of the pieces together before I go mad.”
“Where to begin,” Kathy opened the file and flicked through the top pages. “Our initial thoughts at the first scene were correct. The evidence that we managed to bag before the explosion was damning,” she looked at Annie, “the entire scene was bleached and wiped down. There were no DNA deposits except the trace fluids. We found epithelial cells that belong to the victim, mixed with spermatozoa and spermicidal gel.”
“Which means?” Alec asked.
“Jackie Webb was raped by a male who used a condom and she was raped by a male that didn’t wear one.”
“Two perpetrators?” Annie asked.
“Not necessarily,” Kathy shook her head. “It could be the same man.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” Annie sighed. “Why clean the scene and then leave DNA.” She shrugged and crossed her legs. “I don’t get it. He was so careful to remove evidence.”
“Maybe he was counting on the fact that all the evidence would be incinerated in the explosion,” Alec shrugged. “It was pure chance that bagged evidence was removed when it was, isn’t it?”
“Definitely” Kathy agreed. “If it wasn’t for the fact that we were sure the firemen would ask us to leave, the evidence would have stayed with me until we had finished.”
“He didn’t count on us having the chance to analyse anything!” Alec scoffed. “Everyone makes mistakes,” he added. “Maybe he was preoccupied with building his incendiary device and was convinced that it would destroy everything and overlooked any other scenario?”
“I’m inclined to agree,” Kathy said. She paused for a moment. “The good news is the initial genetic markers match your suspect, Tod Harris. I’ll need another twenty-four hours to get an exact genetic match but the odds of it being anyone else at the moment are in the millions.”
“Fantastic!” Alec said.
“That is great news,” Annie agreed. “What about Jayne Windsor?” Annie sat forward excitedly. Butterflies were swarming in her stomach.
“The second scene keeps giving. We found a rubber mask in the trash,” Kathy handed them a photograph. The mask was a demented looking old man with a bald head and white tufts of hair over the ears. “The sweat and saliva gave us DNA, which matches Harris. We also have a perfect thumbprint on the mirror in the bathroom that also belongs to him.” She lifted another sheet. “I ran a sample of urine from Jayne Windsor’s bladder. It tested positive for Rohypnol breakdown. The drug itself was gone but cells that it leaves behind prove that it was in her system.” She shook her head and raised her finger, “We haven’t recovered the knife that he used to remove the head yet,” she shrugged. “He must have taken it with him. The final nail in his coffin is the seminal trace inside Jayne matches the first samples,” Kathy smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Tod Harris is your man.”
“We’ve got him,” Alec clapped his hands together. “We need to know where we are on trac
ing his whereabouts.”
Annie nodded and stood up. “Thank you, Kathy,” she said squeezing her arm. She walked out of the office, a woman on a mission. Stirling had returned to the office and was stood talking to Google and his team. “The DNA matches Tod Harris,” Annie announced to the entire office. A cheer went up and muted expletives were exchanged. “Do we know where he is yet?”
“We know that he took an Easy Jet flight from the Midlands to Alicante and we have found a T Harris booked into the Hotel Lavante in the Old Town area,” Google said removing his glasses, “I am waiting for the local Guardia to call me back.” He held up his finger and sat back in his chair. “We could have a break here, Guv.”
“Go on!” Annie said frustrated.
“The locals have a male English tourist in hospital,” he paused. “He was stabbed during a foiled robbery. The ID that he has on him names him as, Tod Harris. They’re waiting for confirmation from the officers at the hospital that he is the same man from the hotel. Once they have it, they will place him under arrest and hold him there until we can raise a warrant to extradite him.”
“Bloody fantastic!” Annie punched the air. “Becky, where are we on warrants for Harris?”
“The judge had to amend it because he is abroad, Guv,” she replied, “A courier is bringing the new one over now. It should be here in the next half an hour.”
“Good work, Becky.” Annie said smiling. “Google,” she said thoughtfully. “Have you got anymore on translating the text?”
“More of the same, Guv. Nothing new.”
“I want Tod Harris’s home searched tonight then everyone is to go home and get a good night’s sleep. When you’re fresh tomorrow, we’re back at it, everyone. Well done,” Annie said enthusiastically. “The DNA is a huge breakthrough but it doesn’t mean that we can ease off. If we don’t get a confession, we’ll need a cast iron case to make sure this bastard goes down.”
“Guv.” The team replied in unison.
CHAPTER 27
“Mrs Harris?” Annie said showing her badge. The lady that opened the door peered at her through a three inch gap between the UPVC door and the frame. A chain lock dangled loosely between them. “I’m Detective Inspector Jones and I have a warrant to search the premises. Open the door please.”
“Is this about Tod?” her voice was reedy and timid.
“It is,” Annie replied assertively. “Open the door, Mrs Harris.”
“What has he done now?”
“Open the door and we can discuss it.”
The chain rattled and the door opened. Mrs Harris was a little over 5ft tall and her dark hair was styled in a short tight perm. Her face was a map of deep creases; the skin looked to have the texture of putty. She hadn’t put her false teeth in and her lips curled into her mouth giving her a reptilian appearance. Annie put her in her mid fifties but the odours of cigarettes and alcohol explained why she looked ten years older.
“What has he done?” Mrs Harris tutted. “Has he been chasing women again? I’ve warned him a thousand times. I told him after the last time that if he did it again, he was on his own. I didn’t bring him up like that. His father will be spinning in his grave.” She stood back and allowed Annie inside. It was a large dwelling built in the thirties with high ceilings and ornate plaster covings. Polish and air freshener mingled with the smell of stale cigarette smoke. “Come on in and make sure they all wipe their feet. It’s a full time job keeping this place clean but I do my best.”
Annie half listened and half organised the search team as they entered. Mrs Harris rattled on oblivious to the number of detectives that walked by her. She had seen it all before. That much was obvious to Annie. “We’ll be searching the entire property, Mrs Harris,” Annie handed her the warrant but she didn’t read it. She shrugged and folded it in half with yellowed fingers. “There’s a garage at the bottom of the driveway,” Annie said. “Do you have the keys?”
“No,” Mrs Harris bit her bottom lip. Her face darkened. “Tod has the only key although he doesn’t have a car for more than five minutes. I can’t keep up with him and his cars.” She said as if in conversation with a friend. “He changes them as often as he changes his socks.” Stirling walked past and headed upstairs. “About once a month.” Mrs Harris looked him up and down and the gravity of the situation hit her. “Oh, Tod,” she mumbled. “What have you done now?” She light a cigarette with trembling hands and inhaled deeply, closing here eyes as the soothing smoke worked its magic. She exhaled and looked Annie in the eyes. “Has he hurt another woman?”
“Yes,” Annie kept her answer short. “When was the last time that you saw him?”
“Tuesday or Wednesday, I think,” she frowned. “He rushed in early in the morning, like a baby elephant. Woke me up.” She rolled her eyes. I must have gone back to sleep eventually. I heard a car horn outside and the last time I saw him, he was getting into a taxi.” She shrugged. “He didn’t even say goodbye. I knew he was up to something. Haven’t heard from him since.”
“He’s in Spain.”
“Benidorm?”
“Yes,” Annie nodded. “Has he been there before?”
“Every time he does something wrong. That boy has been trouble since he was old enough to walk. He was born bad.” She smiled sadly. “That might sound harsh coming from his mother but it’s the truth,” she sucked hard on her smoke and sighed. “To look at him, you wouldn’t think he was such a loser. Such a handsome boy.” Mrs Harris wiped a tear from the corner of one eye. “We used to go there on our family holidays. I think he grew attached to the place. He’s been there a couple of times a year for as long as I can remember. He’s always travelling somewhere.”
“I see.” Annie gestured to a uniformed WPC. “Take Mrs Harris into the living room until we’re done please.” Her shoulders hunched and she seemed to shrink as the police woman led her away. Annie could hear her muttering beneath her breath. She felt for her. It was one thing to watch her son fail in life but another all together to witness him becoming a monster. There was no need to inflict more pain with the details yet. She would find out soon enough.
Annie climbed the stairs and looked around. The house had four bedrooms and was furnished well. The carpets were thick and the wallpaper expensive and tastefully matched. Her ornaments were dated and tacky but there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen. Annie could hear most of the activity coming from the room at the end of the landing. She glanced into each bedroom as she past. Every bed was made up with pastel coloured bedding and satin valance sheets. She reached Tod’s room and paused. From the doorway, the bedroom looked like it belonged to a teenage boy. Posters covered the walls; some pop divas and others super models. The constant theme was their state of undress and the suggestive poise. Tod Harris had an eye for beautiful women. Stirling turned as she stepped inside the room.
“We’ve got a laptop and a couple of butterfly knives,” Stirling said gruffly. “And four 100 mil bottles of a clear odourless liquid in his bedside cabinet.”
“Rohypnol?”
“That’s my guess,” he nodded. “They’re bagged and on the way to the lab. The rest of the room seems pretty bland so far.” He walked to the bedroom window and looked outside. “Mrs Harris keeps the house in good shape. I don’t think that he would keep anything incriminating in his room.”
“The garage?” Annie said standing next to him at the window. They could see bomb squad officers inspecting the garage door. “Let’s go and see if they’re ready.”
They walked down the stairs and along the hallway. All the pictures that Annie saw were of Mr Harris and Tod when he was a child. A few were of all three together. It was as if nothing worth capturing had happened since he was young. Tod looked sullen but normal. He only smiled in a few of them. It was hard to imagine that kid growing up to be a rapist. A murderer. A beast that could remove the lower half of a woman’s face and carve intricate text into her flesh with a metal hook while she screamed for mercy. A monster.
The kitchen was a bright open plan space with a sloping glass roof and windows on three sides. A hybrid of kitchen and conservatory. There was a centre island with a deep porcelain sink built into wooden worktops. Black marble tiles glistened like mirrors on the floor. It was a blend of vintage and modern styles. Annie glanced around and shook her head. “Tod Harris had a good start in life.” She commented. “I feel for his mother.”
“I’m sick of hearing that a ‘difficult childhood’ was to blame,” Stirling took her point. “My dad kicked the crap out of my mother; therefore I can’t be responsible for anything that I do as an adult.” He snorted. “Psycho babble bullshit!”
“Bullshit indeed,” Annie agreed. The back doors were open and a cold breeze flowed in. Annie shivered as she walked outside. Icy fingers touched her scalp and face looking for a way inside. The wind seemed to claw at her clothes. “It’s getting cold at night now.”
“It is,” Stirling agreed. “We could do with a quick trip to Benidorm, Guv. Warm up for a few days.”
“Few days?” Annie scoffed. “We’ll be lucky if Alec pays for a taxi from the airport let alone accommodation.”
“I won’t pack my swimmers then.”
Annie grimaced. “You in swimmers?” she shook her head. “Twilight zone material.” Annie followed the path, which led to the driveway. Low hedges lined the drive and the garage was set back 20 metres at the rear of the house. Stirling trudged behind her. Three officers were struggling to lift the door.
“There was a new padlock fastening the door to an anchor bolt,” the lieutenant said as they approached. “We’ve cut the power supply to the garage and we can’t see any evidence of a device on the door.” He gestured to his men and as they lifted the up-and-over, the metal groaned in protest.
Annie looked at Stirling disappointedly. She had hoped that Jackie Webb’s Mercedes would be parked inside. There was no vehicle inside at all. The concrete floor was spotted with oil stains and the left hand wall was lined with shelves. Four plastic fuel containers stood in a line against the right hand wall. They exchanged concerned glances as they stepped inside. The lieutenant walked over to them and studied the wall and the space around them.
