No One's Safe: DI Max Byrd & DI Orion Tanzy book 3
Page 14
A few hundred metres down the road, they took a left into the petrol station. It felt strange doing it on foot and gave Byrd the feeling that although the road behind them was silent, a car could pull in at any second.
Tanzy was over to the left, speaking with a man and woman, who were standing in front of their car. Byrd could see the red blood on their windscreen as he approached with Fallows. Tanzy, with a notepad and pen in his hands, turned and nodded at him. The man and woman followed his nod, noticing Byrd and Fallows approach.
‘This is Detective Inspector Max Byrd,’ Tanzy said, introducing them. In turn, they shook Byrd’s hand and told him their names. The man who introduced himself as Rick was Byrd’s height and had a shiny, tanned skinhead. The top of a tribal tattoo crept over the top of his red t-shirt on the side of his neck. On his legs, he wore black shorts which didn’t reach his knee. He was muscular, his width definitely belonged to a motivated gym-goer. The small, thin woman, who said her name was Paula, also sporting tattoos, stood with him.
Tanzy had been speaking with them for a while now, had had their side of the story. In brief, he updated Byrd and Fallows, occasionally nodding to the couple with certain points but Tanzy pretty much nailed it.
They’d told Tanzy in detail how they’d been driving along behind a blue Volkswagen Transporter when, for some reason, the rear doors opened and something hit their bonnet then came up and hit the windscreen, leaving the red smudge mark that Byrd noticed on his way over. They stopped and pulled up at the petrol station, then the man had walked back to see what the object was. When he found the hand a few inches inside the grass verge, he phoned 999 immediately.
‘Did you manage to get a registration plate?’ Byrd asked.
The man sighed. ‘I’ve already told your colleague,’ he said, pointing toward Tanzy, ‘that I didn’t. It all happened so fast.’
Byrd held up a palm, apologising for asking again. He wasn’t sorry. It was something he did after knowing Tanzy had already asked the same question, to see what answer was given.
‘Where do you guys live?’ asked Byrd.
‘Darlington. Just off North Road.’
‘Where are you heading?’
‘Billingham. I have family there,’ replied the man sharply, a sign he was becoming impatient. ‘Listen, can we go now? We’ve answered all the questions you’ve asked. We need to get to Billingham. Our family is waiting to go out for dinner and they’ll be wondering where we are.’
Byrd, without replying, moved over to get a better look at the windscreen. In doing so, he caught a glimpse at the registration plate and took out his phone. He texted someone at the station to run the plate.
‘What are you doing?’ Rick asked. ‘Your colleagues have looked already.’
Byrd turned to Tanzy. ‘Have forensics took a picture and a sample of the blood?’
‘Yeah. Tallow has been down.’
Byrd nodded and took a few steps back, turning to give them his full attention. He was about to say something when his phone pinged. He excused himself for a moment and looked at the text message. Rick and Paula sighed heavily and eyed him disapprovingly.
‘I’m sorry about this,’ Tanzy said to them, knowing exactly what Byrd was up to.
Byrd opened the message. The information about the car was legitimate. The car belonged to a Rick Jacobs. It was both Tax and Tested. Byrd turned back and pulled a card from one of his pockets. ‘If there’s anything else you can think of, I’d appreciate a call. You’re welcome to go. Enjoy your dinner with the family. Sorry to have kept you.’
Rick forced a smile and wasted no time getting into the car. Paula traipsed around the other side and got into the passenger seat and within seconds, they were gone.
The detectives and Linda Fallows walked back up the quiet road towards the forensics’ van. On their way, they looked up to see if there were any cameras. There weren’t.
‘Do you think you could have a word with Jennifer Lucas at the town hall?’ Byrd said to Tanzy. ‘I know it’s out of her range but she’ll have contacts, won’t she? See if we can trace the blue Transporter.’
‘I’ll get in touch with her,’ Tanzy said, plucking the phone from his pocket. He found her number and made the call, drifting over to one side.
Byrd looked at Fallows. ‘How are you holding up?’
‘It’s hot today.’ A thin film of sweat lined her forehead. ‘But I’m okay.’
Tanzy spoke for a few minutes on the phone, explaining to Jennifer Lucas about the situation. She told him she knew who to call and that she’d get back to him with any footage that could help with their investigation.
Back at the van, Tallow and Hope were discussing something. Hope nodded several times then shrugged, then turned when they heard the detectives approach.
Byrd noticed their confusion about something. ‘What have you found?’
‘We haven’t found the head yet, if that’s what you’re wondering…’ Hope replied. ‘But, it doesn’t make sense.’
‘What doesn’t?’ Tanzy said, intrigued.
‘I don’t want to speculate,’ she said. ‘But we’ll see what pathology has to say.’
42
Tuesday
Outskirts of Darlington
As soon as Brad heard the loud noise behind him, he looked through the rear-view mirror and noticed the van’s back door had swung open.
‘Shit!’
Knowing he’d placed the body parts on the floor near the door, he immediately thought about the chances of them falling out. He switched his focus back on the road in front of him, almost ramming into the car in front which for some reason had suddenly slammed on the brakes and pulled hard on the steering wheel to avoid the almost certain collision.
‘Watch where you’re going!’ he shouted at them, undertaking them in the left lane. It was an elderly couple driving an old Micra.
He looked in the side mirror at what was going on behind, and noticed a car come to a sudden halt, objects dancing on the road before it, falling from the rear of the van, bouncing on the tarmac, going in every direction.
Instantly he felt sick. What was he going to do? He couldn’t stop the van in the middle of the A66 and walk back up to collect the body parts. He had to get away.
‘Shit!’ he shouted again, banging his hand so hard on the steering wheel, the horn blasted for a few seconds. He put his foot down and reached eighty, then took the next left turn near Long Newton, taking him around to the left and over the bridge. The rear doors had slammed closed but it was too late. At the mini roundabout, he took a right, and a hundred metres down the road, he pulled over, put his hazards on, and jumped out quickly. He raced to the back of the van and opened the doors to look in the back.
‘Oh… no,’ he whispered, placing both hands on his head, knowing most of the body parts weren’t there. For a moment, he felt numb, then he started to shake. A car whizzed past, startling him from a second until he realised what it was, then the road fell deadly silent as the car disappeared into the distance, leaving the sound of his thumping heart and the pounding in his ears.
He’d messed up big time.
There was no way he could go back.
The police would be on their way.
With shaking hands he pulled the phone from his pocket, found the number, and pressed CALL.
‘Yes, Brad…’
‘We have a big problem, Mitch.’
‘What?’
Brad explained what had happened.
‘You, Brad, are an absolute idiot! Go back to HQ and don’t do anything until I get there.’
43
Wednesday Morning
Police Station
When Linda Fallows returned to the station yesterday, she contacted an ex-colleague from Essex Police, who kindly granted her full access to the files they had on the murders she believed were linked to the recent happenings in Darlington. After speaking with DCI Fuller, Byrd and Tanzy had both decided she could be an asset and were happy to ke
ep her there with them.
It was undeniable that Byrd and Tanzy were capable detectives but even the best detectives missed things.
Fallows used one of the empty computers at the back of the room, just across from Tanzy. She accessed her emails and forwarded the information she’d received from Essex to both of them. They read through the reports on the murders that Fallows had briefly spoken about yesterday, and Byrd and Tanzy had to admit, there were similarities between them, although a different location, and seven years apart. They understood Fallows’ desperation in catching the man who got away seven years ago.
It had just turned nine. Byrd and Tanzy were standing at the front of the meeting room to brief everyone on what had happened yesterday. Fuller was sitting in his usual chair, the one closest to the door as he was normally the last one to arrive.
Byrd stood with the black remote and pressed the button.
As the first slide came up, DC Cornty, sitting on the right, asked, ‘Sir, I was wondering – probably the same as other people here – who’s the lady?’ He pointed to Fallows who was sat next to Fuller, with one leg over the other.
Byrd narrowed his eyes at his smart comment, and said, ‘The lady is—’
Fallows stood up abruptly, interrupting him. ‘This lady is called Linda Fallows. She is a retired criminal psychologist who, for the last seven years, have helped Essex Police get into the minds of criminals and killers. Prior to that, she was DI, and has over forty years’ experience in police and criminal activity, predominantly for Essex Police. She is here because she believes the house fire and the woman falling from the flats are linked, not only to each other but to previous murders that happened seven years ago in the Essex area.’
The room fell silent immediately. Byrd and Tanzy couldn’t help but smile at each other and looked over to Cornty. Everyone else did too. The smug look on his face was replaced with embarrassment. Fallows sat back down.
‘That a good enough explanation for you, Phillip?’ DCI Fuller asked him.
His cheeks reddened so much, Tanzy and Byrd felt sorry for him.
‘Yes, sir,’ he replied quietly, looking away, towards the floor.
‘Okay,’ Byrd said, ‘glad that’s settled then.’ He looked at the board behind him. ‘We know the current situation with the missing four women. And we know about the fire at the Walters’ house, and Jane Ericson falling from the flats. The focus of this meeting is about what happened yesterday on the A66. As some of you know, a couple were behind a blue Volkswagen Transporter near the Sadberge turn-off, when the rear doors of the Transporter opened and something hit their windscreen. They stopped to check it out and found a human hand.’
What had been found yesterday had become common knowledge so it didn’t come as a shock to many. However, some weren’t aware of the details why the meeting had been called, so due to the importance of transparency within the department, keeping everyone in the know was paramount to its success.
Byrd was about to continue but noticed DC Cornty looking down at his phone. He waited for a few seconds. Cornty heard the silence and looked up at Byrd, who scowled at him.
‘Are you finished, Phillip?’
Cornty apologised and put his phone back into his pocket.
‘Hope, Tallow, and Forrest swept the road and grass verges,’ Byrd went on. ‘With the help of Eric and Donny, there were fourteen body parts that were found. Forensics are currently working with the pathology department at Darlington Memorial Hospital to find out exactly what is going on.’
Byrd pressed the fob. The next slide was a photo of a piece of flesh, which the detectives knew was the top of someone’s leg. The following slide showed various body parts.
‘No head?’ DS Stockdale asked.
‘Not yet. We believe we have found all the pieces that had fallen from the back of the van.’
DC Anne Tiffin raised a hand.
‘Yes, Anne?’ said Tanzy, looking her way.
‘Do we have any information on the van?’
‘Not yet. I reached out to Jennifer Lucas from the Town Hall yesterday. She works in the control room and monitors the CCTV devices in and around the town. She’s checking and will get in touch when she knows.’
Tiffin nodded her thanks to his reply.
‘So, now it’s time to formally introduce Linda Fallows.’ Byrd motioned her forward with a hand. She stood, moved past Fuller and joined Byrd and Tanzy at the front of the room.
She looked directly at DC Cornty as she spoke for a few moments then looked around the room. ‘As you now know, I’m Linda Fallows. I believe a string of murders that happened seven years ago in the Essex area are linked to what Darlington is currently experiencing. The cases I’m referring to are the house fire and the fall from the block of flats.’
She went on to explain her theory that each murder involved one of the elements. Fire, water, air, or earth. She answered a string of questions from Cornty, who Tanzy and Byrd surmised was being awkward, and then a few from DC Tiffin and PC Weaver, who were genuinely interested. She explained the videos being uploaded online and firmly believes that this is the killer that the Essex Police didn’t catch.
‘I’ve given Max and Orion full access to the files and reports Essex have on the murders in case they may come in handy. We need to find this man.’
She received several supportive nods around the room.
‘And rest assured,’ she added, ‘I’ll do everything I can to help and make sure we catch this sonofabitch.’
44
Wednesday Afternoon
Darlington Memorial Hospital
Byrd and Tanzy arrived there just after one. They made their way across the busy car park toward the entrance door under the high, hot sun. According to the weather forecast, it would reach thirty degrees but if anything, it was hotter.
There was a woman in her mid-forties standing a few feet from the entrance door, dressed in a pink fluffy dressing gown, with a cigarette in her hand. In the other, was a phone, raised to her head. She spoke loudly and abruptly, complaining about the doctors and nurses who she felt weren’t doing a good enough job for her. Byrd knew patients or personnel weren’t allowed to smoke on hospital grounds. It was common courtesy but he decided to let it go, knowing they had bigger issues to deal with.
Byrd went through the sliding doors first, followed by Tanzy. The air-con in the corridor was cool and welcoming as they passed a handful of doctors and nurses who were walking the opposite way, some of them looking down at clipboards with furrowed eyebrows as they went, whilst others were on the phone. Some, the detectives knew, were consultants, dressed in tightly fitted shirts and smart trousers. He’d come across them before, especially when his parents had passed away. They tended to have that confidence about them. That superior specialist knowledge could only be gained through decades in the business. On the flip side, bar their arrogance, they were a credit to the NHS.
The pathology department was down a long corridor and off to the left. After passing through the double doors, they stopped at the small desk. An attractive, thin dark-haired woman in her early thirties, dressed in a smart shirt, looked up from her computer over the top of her glasses.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked in a soft voice.
‘Here to see Arnold Hemsley,’ Tanzy said.
‘Do you have an appointment with Doctor Hemsley?’ she said, raising her eyebrows.
‘He’s expecting us. I’m Detective Inspector Orion Tanzy of Durham Constabulary. This is my colleague Detective Inspector Max Byrd.’
‘One moment, please,’ she replied with a smile and returned her focus to the screen. A moment later, she pointed to the double doors to their left. ‘Through there. Been here before?’
‘Too many times, unfortunately.’
They went through the doors, took a right, and walked along a quiet corridor until they reached a door with the sign on saying, ‘Dr. Arnold Hemsley’. Tanzy knocked twice, and after hearing something inside, he opened it.
>
‘Hello, Arnold,’ said Tanzy.
Hemsley was a slight man in his fifties with a bald head, appearing hardened by a lifetime of working long hours and eating very little. His teeth were tainted with cigarettes and a heavy supply of coffee when he smiled, and the crow's feet lining his eyes when they were closer showed he may have been older than fifty.
‘Detectives,’ he said, standing, and shaking both of their hands. Similar to previous times they’d been here, his handshake was firm, carrying a strong character. Byrd was always told by his father you could judge a man’s character by his handshake. If their handshake was weak, the man had no backbone. If a man had a strong handshake and looked you in the eye, he was more than likely a man you could rely on.
‘Come this way,’ said Hemsley, who stepped out of his office, then led them along the corridor, through the double doors into the lab. Standing at the rectangular table where the neatly positioned body parts they found yesterday, were Tallow and Hope, dressed casually. There was no sign of the forensic trainee Amanda Forrest. Most likely, she was back at the lab or with the crime scene manager, Tony McCabe, going over her reports. On the opposite side of the table was Peter Gibbs, the H.M. Senior Coroner for the Darlington and Durham area.
The detectives had been in the room on several occasions so far in their career. But never had they seen a dismembered display such as this. On the majority of occasions, the body on the table was intact.
The room was square-shaped and probably the cleanest room the detectives had been in. A clinical smell hung in the air and air conditioning gave it that fresh, cool feel. The temperature was a few degrees lower than the corridor which made Byrd shiver a little until he got used to it. The floor appeared to be linoleum but Byrd knew, after reading into things when he struggled to sleep at night, that it was specially designed so it was suitable for a lab. It had to be smooth, non-slipping, easy to clean, and lastly, resistant to chemicals and fluids. The walls were painted white but had a sheen finish, which Byrd also knew, was a special coating that allowed it to be cleaned and was resistant to foreign objects.