by Hylton Smith
Renton privately wanted to feel justice had been done in one way, but nobody deserved Doyle’s fate. “Well that clears up a few loose ends, for me at least. Did Alistair have contracts with any limousine companies in London? We’re trying to trace a particular firm who took the entire party to the football match.”
“I wouldn’t know about stuff like that but I can get our accounts people to check.”
Eva Roberts said that it would be extremely helpful if she could find any receipts.
“I am also curious about whether Bowman picked up a briefcase after the match, because the testimony we have states he did not have one on the flight to London.”
“I think it’s almost certain that he would have taken one to Cologne. As I said earlier, Alistair kept me apprised of the principles of this foolish merger. The people at Bio-Synth tried to tell me that Bowman, or as they refer to him Baumann, was not a requirement for the merger to proceed, and I corrected them by telling them what my husband had told me some time ago. Because of the potential hijacking of Alistair or his briefcase, he wanted to split the documentation. The legal stuff for the merger was to be with my husband, and the crown jewels, or should I say the intellectual property which underpinned the merger agreement, was to be with Harry. And I keep saying this, I knew as much as Alistair thought I should, in case something went wrong, but he did not want to put me in danger if it did. I could not divulge something if I didn’t know about it, for instance the bookings on the flight to Cologne. Is there anything else before I have to meet the legal people again?” Renton considered fishing and threw in a possible reason for yet another chat.
“As we have drawn nothing but blanks on the whereabouts of Bowman and his briefcase in the UK, we are still interested in speaking with Gertrude Bowman at some time.”
“Oh, I can’t remember whether I mentioned it last time we spoke, but I did see her when I visited Bo-Synth. She was one very nervous woman. She thought she was being followed by plain clothes police whenever she went out, and her father confirmed that she was, by tailing her himself. I doubt you will get more out of her than I did but as you may gather, I want that intellectual property back. I will help you in any way I can.” Renton and Roberts left.
Chapter 31
Tuesday November 20th 2018
Greg Watson rang to confirm it was another sedation followed by a lethal insulin injection which killed Doyle. “I am relieved to have been right about him being mutilated after he died. The rest is really up to Donoghue.” The forensics team were just getting to grips with their marked samples, but they had already answered a question Renton was about to ask. There were none of the black and grey fibres which were found on all but the previous victim.
Renton passed this on to Eva Roberts, and they were discussing the black and grey fibres when the front desk said he might be interested in someone who had sketchy information which could relate to the Gibside Priory killing. He asked for the person to be brought upstairs. This was interesting because despite the appeals made by the police for witnesses to all of the deaths so far, no one had come forward in London or Newcastle, except for the very first at the Angel. When the man arrived he looked a little nervous, so they tried to put him at ease, and asked his name.
“Eric, er Eric Palmer, I’m not sure it means anything, but when I heard about the murder I thought I should tell you anyway.”
“Please sit down Mr Palmer, this is Eva Roberts and I’m Detective Chief Inspector Renton.” He looked about sixty or even a little older with craggy features and bright blue steely eyes. Renton continued.
“I understand you may have witnessed something out of the ordinary.”
“Yes, you see I cycle along that part of the Derwent Walk every night. There are always too many people on it during the day time, walkers with dogs, horses, and other cyclists. I got myself one of these really powerful light sets for my bike and it’s fantastic. It lights up the whole track as if it was the middle of the day, and there’s never anybody else on it when it is dark, so I can whizz along without being in danger of bumping into anybody. Except this night I did.”
“That must have been quite a surprise then. Which night was this?”
“Well that’s the problem. When I heard the news on the radio about the murder, I couldn’t really remember whether it was two nights before or three. You see my eyes and ears are ok, but my short term memory isn’t what it used to be.”
“That’s alright, neither is mine, just tell us what you saw.”
“Well, I often stop at a bench which isn’t far from the viaduct and has a nice view across to the village. I always stop when there’s a bright moon, because it hovers over the river and the backlighting of the village makes it a pretty sight. If I’m honest though, I like to have a little nip of whiskey at the end of my ride, and it’s a lovely place to sit at night if it’s not too cold. It also gives a good view of the Priory.”
“Go on Eric, it sounds like a beautiful spot.”
“Yes, well these two fellas were walking towards me, but as I’d knocked off my lights, they mustn’t have seen me. One was doing a lot of talking, and the other seemed to be afraid. I was then very surprised that they went off the Walk, down the bankside and over the wire fence. They headed towards the Priory. I thought to myself - who would do that? And why didn’t the man who was pleading with the other one just turn around and leave. I was going to shout and tell them that it was private land when I saw the gun. I got a bit scared and decided to mind my own business. I kept very still until they entered the ruin, and when I heard the one with the gun shouting, I crept away in the opposite direction with my bike. I had to pedal because I was worried he would hear the freewheeling sound. When I got to the embankment about a hundred yards away and well before the bridge over the Walk, I knew he couldn’t have caught me on foot, so I looked back. There was no gunshot, and in the moonlight I could still make out both of their silhouettes; they weren’t arguing anymore, and the man seemed to have put away the gun, so I thought they must have settled their differences. I rode back to the Lintzford turn off and came home by the main road. When there was nothing on the news or in the newspapers the next day, I thought no more about it until the murder was reported.”
“What time of night was this Eric?”
“I don’t carry a watch but I always get back home at about eight o’clock, so from the bench seat to my house would take no more than five or six minutes on my bike. It must have been just a few minutes before eight.”
“Did you get a good look at these men?”
“No, I was about twenty yards from them when they headed for the Priory, but the bench I was sitting on was amongst the trees and bushes at the side of the Walk. If I hadn’t been hidden like that they may have seen me. Although it was a moonlit night, it was still quite dark. All I can tell you is that the man with the gun was taller than the other one, probably four or five inches taller, and he had quite a gruff voice. I didn’t think this could be of much help to you and that’s why it has taken so long for me to make up my mind to come to the police. I didn’t want to waste your time.”
“On the contrary Eric, you’ve given us an approximate time of the incident, and height of a man who was obviously involved in some way. You were right to come here, because we knew he had been dead for some time before we found him. Thank you for coming all the way to Durham. You aren’t on your bike are you?”
“Oh yes, I do other rides as well as the Derwent walk, and I have a favourite coffee shop in Lanchester, which is about halfway.”
“We’ll want to talk to you again, so I’ll get your details from the desk; and thanks again for taking the trouble to come all this way.” Renton accompanied Eric Palmer to the exit and watched him climb on to his hybrid bike to ride back to Rowlands Gill. He turned to go back upstairs when the desk sergeant drew his attention to a new letter. This one was in a stamped envelope and had come through the Royal Mail. He took the plastic bag in which the sergeant had pl
aced it, and headed up to show it to Roberts.
“Eva, let’s go to forensics in Newcastle so that they can do checks before we open it. It may not be from the same source, but if it is, it’s come with fingerprints of the postman and sorting office. We must check this out.” They asked Stephanie to recall Gibson from his foraging into the Newcastle records trail of Doctor Younis Khan.
*
Meanwhile Forster’s influence had pulled something out of the Colony already, but it was not what he wanted. It was even worse news for Bradstock. The drift of it was a rumour related to a contract hit which was being touted within the Colony. It was unusual insofar as the tariff was much higher than normal for such a job. This always made the hired help a little edgy, and this one had apparently been declined already by preferred individuals, and had moved on to a wider list for consideration. Forster’s undercover man had been told that it was a kidnapping of an unnamed subject. While telling Bradstock, he suggested that this could partly explain why there was no interest yet in his offer of opening the briefcase.
“As the Colony has not filled in the target of the kidnap, and none of the preferred operators have signed up, this may be their top priority right now. When you let it be known that you thought the briefcase could be opened successfully, were you able to back that up or was it just a gamble?”
“No, it wasn’t a gamble. I made some enquiries with the people at our anti-terror facility and they told me that we have a prototype particle scanner which can actually see objects and read documents even through metal sheeting. Apparently they can calibrate the metal as background, and each metal has a different setting. Alloys proved to be much trickier, but they can still be zeroed out. They said our problem was a walk in the park compared to some of the detections they have to perform.”
“In that case Sir, I’d like to use this to raise the game. Getting paid for handing over a briefcase is a lot less risky than an unknown person who has been kidnapped.”
“Maybe, but I am not allowed to disclose information that we have such a device. That would let the terrorists know what they can expect ahead of it being employed. I am afraid that is non-negotiable.”
“Ok. How about letting them know that this could be done through a third party? An accredited official of their choice, who passes our terror-screening test, could then act as an independent verifier. A lawyer or magistrate for example, could be allowed to authenticate the scan picture from a remote screen. Our people can upload the content to wherever, and the verifier can vouch that it is the actual briefcase, and also whatever is revealed inside. Nobody has to be actually at the scanner facility, or know anything about the technology involved. It is just displayed as a computer screen picture, which can be photographed or printed.”
“Mmm, I’ll check with the anti-terror facility to see if they would be happy with that. It may be that they still have objections.”
“The collateral payoff, if they approved it, could be postponement of this mooted kidnap. That would give us more time to try and run it to ground. From my contact it sounds like it is something pretty big.”
*
Forensics had captured the fingerprints from the outside of the envelope and confirmed there was no saliva; the stamp was self-adhesive and postmarked from Newcastle. They carefully opened it and passed it to the addressee – Renton. It was from the same source.
‘By the time you receive this you should have come to terms with the difference between the guilty and the apathetic. But you have not stopped my headache. The next chance is your last chance, as it is my piece de resistance, the end of the line, a terminus of sorts. I want to die, but not like this. I need you to help me. Please figure it out. People need to know. Sentinel.’
A protracted silence was pierced by Eva Robert’s declaration.
“In all of my experience I’ve never come across such contrasting communications from a serial killer. The moods of arrogance and pleading are confusing enough, but to announce a finality which includes the writer is unique in the context of cases I have studied. There’s a melancholy feel which seems to be hinting at the underlying reason for such agony, whether or not they are apprehended. Inspector, my normal analytical ability has deserted me. I’m not sure what else I can contribute if this deadline of the next killing is the end. If you feel the same please don’t hesitate to say so, as I may be holding you back.”
“That’s the last thing I want. Your insight is not the same as mine, and in these circumstances I see that as important; this is a unique case for both of us. I’d rather you stayed on.”
When they arrived back in Durham, Renton asked Gibson and Stephanie to join them in his office. They were shown the photograph of the note.
Renton simply said, “Well?”
They echoed the assertion that this really narrowed the potential suspect to the northeast. They also rattled off the same names as Eva Roberts and Renton had done. They then scribbled the five names on a whiteboard. Renton stressed that someone else was going to die, and the victim as well as the killer could be on the list.
“We know that Vivienne Banks was with Doyle on that Friday night at a country hotel, and although she told us that she was at home all day on Saturday 3rd November, and claimed she got drunk and didn’t wake up until Sunday afternoon, we can’t fully confirm the last part of her alibi. In theory, she could have got to London by the time Banks was killed, but the phone call he made to her puts her in the northeast not long before he died. So, although she may be out of the frame for actually killing him herself, she could have organised it, and the others. She has admitted recently that she despised Doyle. Now, we only have Jackson’s word that Banks was dead when he got to the old hospital, so he could have been lying yet again. However, he has been in custody during the time of the later killings, and can therefore be ruled out of having committed them. It’s critical that we determine if either or both of them are still hiding something. Meanwhile, Hepworth, Parrish and Price could have tracked Banks and Baumann to wherever they went; they claim they went shopping, so we need to see the receipts for what they bought as a starting point. Are we sure there is nobody else? Is there any other aspect we should address?”
Stephanie said they should press uniform for an update on the CCTV suspects for the first note. That was agreed and included in the list. Gibson gave them chapter and verse on Younis Khan’s history and particularly his rise to fame in Newcastle.
“I was not able to connect Nisha Servil to the region from the personnel records in Thames Water, but I was still sure there must be something. I took a punt and started digging for a birth certificate. She has a sister whose last recorded address is in the Newcastle area, Heaton to be precise. I think we should follow this up because we now know that all of the victims have connections to this area.”
Renton indicated his agreement to their respective proposals and said Eva Roberts wanted to say something. They listened attentively.
“I have studied this note over and over again, and although there is much of it I can’t explain, I’m increasingly of the opinion that this individual is seeking attention for a cause rather than any personal self-esteem. That cause could be another person as well as a belief in something. I’m also more convinced than ever that they are acting alone. I’d like to stress that I’m not challenging Inspector Renton’s earlier point that the killings could have been ordered or ordained by someone else, but I believe the act of execution is down to one individual. Because of this possibility, I completely endorse questioning all of the five listed. They can all still be connected to the death of the person whose demise announced the string of killings which were planned to follow. This is no random sequence, and until we find the reason, we may not succeed in time to prevent the final one, and then that of the killer.”
Chapter 32
Bradstock was pleasantly surprised that the anti-terror people were happy with Forster’s idea. The word went out and the second surprise was that there was an immed
iate engagement with the proposal. They wanted to know who, other than the designated third party would have access to the information if it was printed. The Colony hierarchy was obviously concerned about the value of what they would see being diminished by it being shared with others. Bradstock could not prevent the scanner operators or a representative of the police being exposed to the content. The message came back that it was not the police that worried them. The negotiations stalled.
*
Vivienne Banks was livid at the suggestion she needed to return to answer more questions, and went completely ballistic when asked if she wanted a lawyer present. Renton decided not to attempt to placate her, instead choosing to let her fester in the interview room on her own. Within half an hour she banged on the door for attention and an officer relayed her message to Renton that she did not want a legal presence. He switched on the recorder and ran through the usual preface to an interview.
