by Clare Revell
“OK. Who are you adding?”
“Sergeant Philips and Austin.” He frowned. “Will is going to be out of action for a while after the accident last night.”
“What happened?” Zander dropped the attitude.
“Someone ran a red light, hit Will’s car head on. His wife was killed. He’s in a critical condition in hospital. They have him on HDU. The high dependency unit, one step down from ICU—which is where he was all night.”
“No.” Zander couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “And the kids?”
“Both fine, they weren’t in the car. Will’s parents are taking care of them. Go and do what you need to do and brief us all when you get back. I’ll get the others going through the CCTV from last night to begin with.”
Zander headed down to the car park.
Isabel was standing by his car. She pointed at the damage. “What did you do?”
“I hit something after I dropped you home last night. A post or something. It’s just a smashed headlight and a dented bumper.”
“You should get it fixed.”
He unlocked the service car. “I will. Guv was telling me about Will.” He filled her in.
Her face fell. “He’s one of the few that don’t…” Isabel broke off. “We should do something. Flowers, something for the kids.”
Zander nodded. “We will. The Guv will organise it and let us know.”
“Can we go and see him?”
“They might not let us in.”
She studied him over the roof of the car. “Please.”
“OK. Soon as we get a chance. Now get in the car, Is.” Zander paused. “Oh, and we need to stop fighting like this. According to the Guv, we fight like an old married couple.”
She grinned. “Well that escalated quickly. We went from first date to married in just over twelve hours. What’s next?”
“Divorce,” Zander grinned. “Now get in the car.”
~*~
Crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze as Isabel pulled out her ID. She showed it to the uniformed officer.
He noted them down before raising the tape to let them through.
Isabel glanced around. “Never realised how narrow this was before now. There isn’t much room for him to work.”
“He would have been seen fairly easily. Unless that’s why he took out the lights.”
“Yeah, but posing the body in the dark would be a logistical nightmare.” Isabel turned. “There’s a camera there and there. The entrance to the flats, as well as the shops. We need to pull all the footage.”
Zander pulled out his phone. “I’ll get DS Philips and Austin to go house to house, see if anyone saw or heard anything. They can also pull all the CCTV footage from around here and we can all watch it later. Did I tell you the Guv put us in charge of a taskforce of four now? Well, six if the others are playing ball.”
“Doubt it,” she muttered. “Robert and Mark have the same opinion of women as the Chief Super. Fit for dishes and the kitchen sink.” She angled her head. “So, don’t try the kitchen sink line on me, mister, because I keep the really sharp knives in the kitchen.”
Zander’s lips twitched as he surveyed her. “Is that a threat?” he asked, wryly.
Isabel laughed. “Nope, it’s a fact. Sharp knives live in the kitchen.”
“I’ll remember that in future. Thanks for the reminder.”
She paused. “The link has to be her parents if the painting is the clue to her death. Which the MO would lead us to assume. Has uniform done the notification?”
“Yes, last night, or at least they should have. One second.” Zander raised his phone to his ear and moved away. “Sarge, it’s Zander.”
Isabel tuned him out. She looked at the alley. What were they missing?
Zander came back over. “OK. Shall we go?”
“Where to?” she asked.
“Cedars Retirement Home. You can take the lead.”
~*~
“We can sit in here, dear.” Mrs. Leaney led Isabel and Zander through a small flat to a sunny conservatory somewhere to the rear of the retirement home. It looked out over a large garden filled with neatly mown lawns, rose bushes, and paved pathways. “A nice uniformed officer came by last night and told me about Esther.” She paused for a few moments, but when she spoke again her voice was strong. “I’m afraid my husband isn’t so good this morning. He has days when he doesn’t know who I am. That’s why we moved here. I have my own flat, and Albert is in the hospital wing. He thinks Esther is away at university, and I don’t want him learning something that may upset him, and he won’t remember for long.” Mrs. Leaney’s voice trembled, but then she took a deep breath, and sat in one of the overstuffed chairs. “Please sit.”
Isabel sat, noticing that Zander perched uneasily on the other side of the room. She rummaged through her bag, looking for her notebook, and frowned as she couldn’t find it. It had everything in there, all the notes from the entire case. Maybe it had fallen out at home or something. She glanced at Zander. “Do you mind taking notes? I left my notebook behind.”
“Just this once.”
“Thanks.” She turned to Mrs. Leaney. “We’re really sorry for your loss.”
The old lady nodded. “Esther came over every day. She didn’t want us to move, but us living in the house wasn’t fair on her. And I couldn’t leave Albert. We’ve been married over sixty years now.”
Isabel smiled. “You must have married very young.”
“We did.” Mrs. Leaney pulled over a photograph. “Albert was nineteen and I was seventeen. We waited a long time for a baby. We’d given up all hope when I finally fell pregnant with Esther. Albert doted on her. She could never do a thing wrong in his eyes. She worked alongside him and took over as CEO when he had to retire last year.”
“Did Esther have a boyfriend?”
The old lady shook her head, eyes shimmering with tears. “No, I would have liked it if she did, but she’s married to her job. No time for anything other than work or church. She’s very active there. She sings in the choir, helps with the seniors work, and does the flowers sometimes.”
“So, she didn’t want you and your husband to move out?” Zander spoke up for the first time.
“No. The thing is Albert needs full time care and more than she and I could offer. We signed the house over to her.” Mrs. Leaney’s fingers played with the pendant around her neck. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I have her necklace back when her things are released? We gave it to her for her eighteenth birthday. She’s got photos in it. She never took it off. I’d like to have it.”
Isabel was suddenly very conscious of her own necklace. Her fingers rose to straighten it and she nodded. “Of course. I’ll make sure it gets back to you.”
11
Isabel glanced at Zander as they finished the search of the remaining crime scene. They hadn’t found any more syringes or traces of them. “Maybe he’s getting sloppy or he was disturbed at the last two sites, and didn’t have time to clean up properly.”
Zander’s phone rang, playing The Charge of the Light Brigade. “Hold that thought. Ellery…Hi, Sarge.” He listened and then nodded. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.” He ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. “They got the CCTV footage from the precinct.”
“Good,” Isabel said, rummaging through her bag. “Let’s hope he slipped up. Esther’s feet were clean, but that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he kept shoes on her until the last second this time.”
“Possible.” Zander began walking to where he’d left the car. “But it wasn’t muddy in that alley.”
“Your feet would still get dirty pretty quickly,” she countered. “I certainly wouldn’t want to walk anywhere in town bare foot. I only ever do that on the beach, because I hate getting sand in my shoes.”
“Good point.”
“Have you seen your grandfather recently?”
Colour tinged Zander’s cheeks. “No. I know I ought to. I haven’t e
ven rung him.”
“Yes, you ought to. If he were mine I’d ring him daily or at least twice a week.” She waited for him to unlock the car. “Text him now or call and say you’ll go over tonight. Take him dinner. I’ll even cook.”
Zander snorted. “Are you trying to kill us?”
She laughed. “Yes,” she shot back. “Give the Guv some more bodies, because we don’t have enough around the place. OK, maybe I won’t cook. We can get take away, or we can take him out somewhere nice.”
Zander’s phone rang, playing Grandad. “Oh, speak of the devil…hey, Gramps, we were just talking about you.”
“That’s not a nice thing to call him.” Isabel turned her back on Zander and looked out over the park. What were they missing? Why would an art thief become a murderer?
Unless the ten women had stolen the paintings in some kind of a joint heist, and this was simply Farrell Vixen the gallery owner, and Dominic Higgins, the painter, getting some weird revenge; which was highly unlikely. Farrell had a nasty temper which she’d been on the receiving end of that once too often, but teenage artist Dominic Higgins didn’t look as though he’d say boo to a goose, never mind kill someone. Even if the topic of the painting did tie in to each murder, giving the reason why the victim had been chosen and killed. There had to be something else.
Zander put the phone away and unlocked the car. He opened the door. “What are you thinking?”
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. What if it’s the paintings that are important, not the victims?”
“Possible, but he’d still need to watch the women carefully to see them breaking the commandments in the first place. Did you finish trimming those lists down?”
“Yes.” Isabel opened the car door. “I added it to the forces wide alert that you sent out. The problem is we can’t just stick six hundred and fifty women into protective custody.”
Zander chuckled. “I’d love to see the Guv’s face if you tried.” He raised his voice, imitating Isabel. “Sir, we need six hundred and fifty protective custody officers, oh, yes, and safe houses for each one.”
She got in the car. “I do not sound like that.”
He laughed, starting the engine. “No. But it’d be amusing to watch. We need to cull it down to women living in Headley Cross. Maybe send patrol cars past their homes and work places every so often to keep tabs on them.”
“Why just Headley Cross?”
“He’s keeping to a very tight radius. And he knows how we work.” Zander pulled out into the traffic.
“Yeah, but why mess on his own doorstep?” She drummed her fingers on the side of the door. “He could be out of the area and just dumping—”
“He’s too methodical for that,” Zander spoke over her. “He watches these girls. How else would he know when they slip up? How the so-called breaking of the commandment fits the painting exactly? Not to mention what size lingerie they wear. That is just creepy beyond belief.”
“But killing them for a first offence?” She twisted in the seat to look at him. “What kind of justice is that? Especially for what boils down to a petty rule?”
“He’s sending a message.” Zander stopped at a red light. “If you think about it, it’s pretty Biblical. If a man lusts after a woman in his heart, he’s already committed adultery with her. If you’re angry with someone, you’ve committed murder.”
Isabel sighed. “Then maybe he should stick to preaching in church on a Sunday.”
Zander raised an eyebrow. “You still think it’s a vicar?”
She shrugged. “You have a better theory? We still need to check out her house.”
“They’re waiting for us to go through the CCTV,” Zander said. “I’m heading back to the nick.”
Isabel glanced out of the window. “Look, there’s the hospital. Can we check on Will? We could give everyone an update on his condition.”
~*~
Zander rang the bell on the ward door. Security on each ward was pretty tight these days. One could only gain access if one was a relative, and knew the name of the person to visit.
The ward sister opened the door. “It’s not visiting time yet.”
He held out his ID. “DC Ellery, this is DC York. We need to speak to DC Will O’Conner.”
“I’m afraid he’s still unconscious.”
“Can we see him?” Isabel asked. “We work with him. We’re all very worried. We didn’t want to have everyone drop by, so this way we can just go back to the nick, and tell the station how he is. It’ll also prevent us for calling every half hour or so for updates.”
The nurse looked at them for a moment. “OK, but just a couple of minutes.”
Isabel smiled. “Thank you.” She covered her hands in the antiseptic gel and followed the nurse onto the ward.
Zander followed her. If this was one step down from ICU, how sick must anyone be up there? Will’s battered body lay hooked up to monitors and machines. Bruises covered every part of him they could see. A plastic cover kept the sheets off his legs. Zander looked at the nurse. “How bad is he?”
“We had to remove his spleen, both legs had compound fractures, so they’re pinned and plated. The main concern is the head injury.”
“So he doesn’t know about...everything...yet?” Isabel asked. She’d read somewhere that even unconscious patients sometimes were able to hear things, so she changed what she’d almost asked about his wife.
“No. The doctor wants to lighten the sedation this afternoon. We can let you know more then.”
Zander handed her a card. “Either I’ll ring or DI Holmes will call. Or DC Austin Lexington, Will’s partner. I know it’s not protocol for information to be given out on the phone other than to a relative, but as far as we’re concerned, Will’s family.”
The nurse slid the card into Will’s notes. “I’ll see we keep you informed.”
“Thank you.” Zander touched Isabel’s arm gently. “We need to go, Is. Catch this bloke before he hurts anyone else.”
~*~
Back in the squad room, Zander stood behind Isabel’s chair, hands resting on top of the back, as they watched the footage from the crime scenes. Austin sat beside them.
There was a clear view of all five deaths. The Slayer led the victims there, made them kneel before binding their knees and ankles. They were already gagged and hands bound in front of them.
He then washed their feet, and did something to their hair before standing over them, watching for a minute. Then he turned and left. In none of the images could they make out his face, no matter how much they zoomed in.
“How tall do you reckon he is?” Zander asked.
DS Philips studied the printout. “I would imagine about your height and build, Zander.”
“How can you tell just by looking at that?” Isabel asked.
Zander looked at her. “Really?”
“I want to learn how to do this. If I want to be as good as the Sarge one day.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” DS Philips chuckled and produced another printout. “This is you and Zander taken as you made your way through the alley on your way to the theatre last night. No time stamps by the way. See the shadows?”
Isabel nodded.
“This is the killer.” DS Philips put the two photos side by side.
Isabel angled her head, chewing on her bottom lip for a moment as she compared the two shadows. “They’re the same.”
Austin swung in his chair and chuckled. “Maybe Zander is the killer.”
“And Isabel is next on my hit list,” Zander deadpanned. He slid his hands around her neck, pretending to throttle her.
She laughed. “Wrong MO.”
He moved his hands to her shoulders. “We called in to see Will on our way back here.” He filled everyone in quickly and then glanced at Austin. “Nurse said she’d keep us updated.”
“Thanks,” Austin said. “I’ll go see him this afternoon. He’ll be devastated when they tell him about Natalie. They were
so close.”
Isabel rose and walked to the map. She stood there, studying it. “So, green are the bodies, red where they lived, yellow where they worked.” She paused. “Where was Will’s car accident last night?”
“Junction of Crockhamwell and Lytham.” Austin crossed over to her and pointed. “Why?”
Isabel frowned and stuck a blue pin into the map. “OK…”
Zander moved over to her. “What are you thinking?”
“Did the other driver stop?”
Austin shook his head. “Nope. Hit and run.” He held up the photos of the remains of Will’s car. “Not that he’d have gotten very far. Unless his car wasn’t badly damaged.”
“Do you think it’s connected?” Zander asked, intrigued as to what her train of thought was.
“We need to get footage from the traffic cameras. The body was found here.” She traced her finger along the map. “It’d make sense if he were fleeing the scene. What time was the accident?”
“Not sure. They were discovered by a passing fire engine at nine o’clock last night.” Austin leaned against the desk. “But why didn’t the other driver stop?”
“Would you?” Zander asked.
“Me? Yeah. If I’d potentially just killed someone, then yes. But if I were drunk out of my mind or a serial killer, then probably not.”
“It’s possible he was drunk,” Isabel said. She frowned. “Zander, your nose is bleeding again.”
Zander swiped a hand under his nose. His fingers came away bloodied and smeared. “Great.”
DS Philips pushed him into a chair. “Head down,” he said shoving a wad of tissues into Zander’s hands. “And pinch the bridge of your nose.”
“I know the drill,” Zander grumbled. He did as he was told. “I get them a lot.”
“Anyway,” Austin said. “The other car left bits of headlight at the scene, so we’ll have the make and model soon enough. Traffic promised to keep me in the loop.”
“Speaking of headlights, Zander, when are you getting yours fixed?” Isabel asked.
Zander scowled. “It’s booked into the garage over the road after lunch. That way I can walk back here.”
