by Sally Rigby
‘How many from the list fall within the age and gender range?’ George asked.
‘Seven hundred,’ Ellie said.
‘So most drivers and conductors were male,’ George replied. Seven hundred was a huge sample for the team to go through.
‘It looks like it,’ Whitney said.
The team got back to work just as Whitney’s phone rang. ‘It’s Jamieson. What does he want?’ She answered and stepped to the side to speak to him.
George stared at the board. On there were the names of all the rail operators who’d been targeted, together with maps of all the different routes their trains took.
There had to be something. They just weren’t seeing it. A pattern. There had to be a pattern. It seemed indiscriminate, but all behaviour was patterned, even if it was subconscious.
She focused all her efforts on the board.
‘Think. Think,’ she muttered to herself. Suddenly it hit her. ‘Birmingham,’ she said out loud. ‘It’s Birmingham.’
‘What’s Birmingham?’
George jumped at the sound of Whitney next to her. ‘I didn’t realise you were there. I thought you were talking to Jamieson.’
‘I was. Tell me about Birmingham,’ the detective said, sounding excited.
‘The key to the puzzle. Look at the four rail operators.’ She pointed at the board. ‘There’s one thing they all have in common.’
Whitney stood silent for a moment, facing the board. ‘They all have some lines which run through Birmingham,’ she finally said. ‘So, what does that mean?’
‘I think our murderer lives there.’
‘How did you come to that conclusion?’
‘He has to get to all these different places and commit the murders. If you think about it, how much simpler would it be if he could get to his target easily? Look.’ She picked up a pen, and on the board drew four circles, all overlapping. In each circle she wrote the name of a rail operator, and in the overlapping piece she wrote Birmingham. ‘This is the part that links every single operator. I know we have the Transwide link, but they own many more lines than the ones targeted. So, we also have to find a link between the actual operators he’s chosen so far.’
‘It makes sense,’ Whitney said.
‘We’ve discussed before how serial killers use locations familiar to them. We were just thinking Transwide, but the evidence points to our killer being familiar with Birmingham and the trains going in and out of there, too.’
‘George, you’re a genius,’ Whitney said.
‘Providing it works out,’ George said, feeling uncomfortable by the lavish praise.
‘Attention, everyone. We’ve made some progress. We believe our murderer comes from the Birmingham area. It seems that every rail operator he’s been targeting has trains which go through Birmingham. If that’s where he lives, he’s going to be much more familiar with these particular operators, and he’ll feel comfortable targeting them. Ellie, I want you to contact the two Birmingham stations, New Street and Birmingham International, and ask for the credit card details of anyone buying tickets over the last two weeks.’
‘What about the other murders?’ the officer asked.
‘Ideally, we’d check those, too, but at the moment ours are the priority. If you do have time, look at the previous four.’
‘Onto it now, guv,’ Ellie said.
‘The perp could have bought his ticket from Birmingham to wherever he got onto the Lenchester train and paid cash for the next part of the journey. We need CCTV footage from the Birmingham stations, and that needs to be compared with the footage we have.’
‘Leave that with me,’ Frank said.
‘You’ll need help. I want everyone pitching in with Frank, apart from Sue. You help Ellie.’
‘Yes, guv.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ George asked.
‘Claire’s latest report has arrived. We’ll grab a coffee and come back here to go through it.’
Thirty minutes later, while they were in Whitney’s office, Ellie knocked on the door and rushed in.
‘I think I’ve got something, guv. Norman Thackeray, who was made redundant by Transwide, lives in Birmingham and he bought tickets for trains on all three days of our murders.’
‘Where did he go?’ Whitney asked.
‘On the ninth he went from Birmingham to Newcastle. He also went from Birmingham to Coventry on the thirteenth, and from Birmingham to Wolverton, the stop before Milton Keynes, on the seventeenth.’
‘And from there he would’ve paid cash for his next ticket. Well planned,’ George said.
‘What about his return journey to Birmingham? Have you looked into that?’ Whitney asked.
‘I’ll get onto it.’
‘First of all, get me his contact details.’
‘Already have them, guv,’ Ellie said.
‘We need to interview him,’ Whitney said.
‘Are you going to bring him in?’ George asked.
‘I think we’ll pay him a visit. First, we’ll go into the incident room and let the team know.’
‘We’ve got a lead,’ Whitney said as they walked in. ‘His name is Norman Thackeray. He lives in Birmingham and was made redundant by Transwide. We know he’s been using the trains on the days of the murders.’
Cheers went up around the room.
‘Early days yet. We’ll continue with what we’re working on. Ellie will circulate Thackeray’s details. We need a full background check on him, and once she has his photo, you can check against CCTV footage to see if he’s on there. If we arrest him and prevent the fourth murder, the drinks are on me.’
George smiled to herself, excited by the fact they could be solving the crime and preventing further deaths.
‘Terry, I want you to come with George and me,’ Whitney said.
‘Don’t you think that’s overkill?’ the officer said.
‘No. We don’t know what we’re going into. Although George’s profile points to him possibly being a loner, we don’t know for certain, so I’m not going to risk it. You can also take a look around the house while we’re there.’
‘Okay.’
‘Can we go in your car, George, as it’s more comfortable?’ Whitney asked.
She was more than happy to do the driving, especially as it was a longer run, and as much as she liked Whitney, neither her car, nor her driving, were the best.
‘My pleasure.’
‘Don’t forget to put in an expenses claim, as we keep going out in your car.’
‘I won’t,’ George said. ‘Come on, let’s get this guy.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Saturday, 22 June
The three of them went downstairs to the car park and got into George’s top-of-the-range Land Rover.
‘Nice,’ Terry said. ‘No wonder you wanted to travel in this.’
‘Certainly beats my old Ford,’ Whitney said.
‘I agree,’ George said, giving a wry grin.
She pulled out of the station onto the road leading to Birmingham. Unfortunately, they hit the traffic, as it was still rush hour. The journey was stop-start until they got onto the motorway, and then it was clearer.
‘Tell me how you became involved in working with the police,’ Terry asked George.
‘I started towards the end of last year, when one of my students was murdered. I offered to help on the case,’ George said.
‘Had you done any police work before?’
‘No. All my work had been academic,’ she said.
‘And I refused her offer, by the way,’ Whitney said.
‘Why?’
‘I didn’t want it. And even when we did work together it wasn’t plain sailing. But we eventually got over that,’ Whitney said.
‘You have a good relationship, now,’ Terry said. ‘We bring people in to help on cases, but we don’t have one particular person. It just depends on who’s available.’
‘We’re very lucky to have George,’ Whitney said.
‘Thank you,’ George said.
They continued the journey, making small talk, and soon hit the outskirts of Birmingham. Using the car’s navigation system, they made their way to Barry Street where Thackeray lived. It was a row of small terraced houses. Whitney knocked on the door. After a short time, she knocked again. Finally, a slight, balding man of around fifty-five answered.
‘Norman Thackeray?’ Whitney asked.
‘Who wants to know?’
‘DCI Walker, DI Gardner, and Dr Cavendish from Lenchester CID. We’d like a word with you.’ Whitney held out her warrant card for him to see.
‘What about?’
‘We’d like to talk inside. Please let us in.’
He opened the door. They walked in and stood in the hall.
‘Well?’ he asked.
‘We understand you used to work for Transwide,’ Whitney said.
‘Yes.’ He glared at them, his arms folded.
‘They made you redundant.’
‘Yes.’ He gave a sharp nod.
‘How did you feel about that?’ Whitney asked.
‘What do you think? I hate them. I lost my job.’
‘Is there somewhere we can sit down?’ Whitney asked.
He opened the door on the right and ushered them into the small lounge, which had a two-seater grey sofa and two other chairs, all focused around the small television.
They all sat, apart from Terry who stood by the door.
‘Are you working now?’ Whitney asked.
‘I haven’t worked since they made me redundant. Thirty years I worked there, and that counted for shit. No one wants a train conductor.’
‘You must have been given a redundancy payment,’ Whitney said.
‘That went a long time ago. Now I rely on state benefits.’
‘What were your movements during the day on Sunday the ninth, Thursday the thirteenth, and Monday the seventeenth of June?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe here. Maybe at the pub.’ He shrugged.
‘Records indicate you used your credit card to purchase a rail ticket from Birmingham to Newcastle on the ninth, Birmingham to Wolverton on the thirteenth, and Birmingham to Coventry on the seventeenth. You do have a credit card, I take it?’ Whitney asked.
He was quiet and looked down at his feet.
‘Mr Thackeray, answer the question,’ Whitney said.
‘Yes, I do have a credit card. What’s this about?’
‘We’re investigating the recent murders which took place on trains going through Lenchester.’
‘The Carriage Killer. I’ve seen it on the news.’
‘Tell me what you were doing on those trains.’
‘You think I committed the murders?’
‘I repeat, what were you doing on the trains from Birmingham on the dates I mentioned?’ Whitney said.
‘I can’t remember.’
He covered his mouth with his hand while speaking. A tell-tale sign of someone not wanting to answer a question put to them.
‘Were you on the trains?’
‘You said I was because of my credit card.’
‘Are you saying you weren’t on the trains?’ Whitney asked, clearly frustrated. ‘Could someone have taken your credit card?’
‘I’m not saying anything. I want a solicitor.’
‘Do you have a solicitor you can call?’ Whitney asked.
‘You can get one for me. Legal aid.’
‘Well, in that case we’re taking you to Lenchester police station for questioning. Is there anyone you want to contact to let them know where you are going?’
‘No, I live on my own.’
‘Just to confirm, you’re not under arrest at the moment, but you’re coming with us voluntarily in order to help with our investigation,’ Whitney said.
‘What if I told you I committed the murders and I’m the Carriage Killer?’
From her observation of his blink rate, George could tell he was lying. Liars blink far less than normal during a lie, then after it becomes excessive, often up to eight times faster. Thackeray’s blinking fit that pattern.
‘Are you admitting to the crimes?’ Whitney asked.
‘Yes.’ he said.
‘Norman Thackeray, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Hugo Holmes-Reed, Lena Kirk, and Neil Thomas. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’
‘Yes.’
Whitney handcuffed him and escorted him to George’s car, where he sat next to Terry. They drove in silence, but throughout the drive, George was thinking it all seemed too easy. The killer had managed to evade capture for two years and the first time he’d been interviewed he was admitting to it. But if he wasn’t guilty, why would he say he was?
Unless he had an accomplice and he was doing it to waste their time and make sure the fourth murder went ahead. They’d know soon enough, once his DNA was taken and compared with samples Claire had got from the last victim.
They arrived back at the station and Thackeray was checked in. He was put into a cell until a solicitor could be called and they were able to interview him.
They went into the incident room.
‘Stop what you’re doing for a moment. We have arrested Norman Thackeray for the murders. He’s actually admitted to them, and we’ll be interviewing him once the duty solicitor has arrived,’ Whitney said.
‘You don’t sound too excited by this, guv,’ Frank said.
‘One step at a time. We need to test his DNA to put him at the scene.’
‘Who’s going to interview him?’ George asked.
‘Terry and I will interview, and you can watch from outside.’
The phone on the desk rang, and Whitney picked it up.
‘Walker.’ She paused for a moment. ‘We’ll be there shortly.’ She ended the call. ‘The duty solicitor’s here. Let’s go.’
They went down to the interview room, and George positioned herself next door, so she could see what was happening. Norman Thackeray was seated, his head lowered, and hands clasped together in his lap. The duty solicitor was sitting next to him, leafing through a file.
Whitney and Terry entered the room, and she turned on the recording equipment.
‘June twenty-second. DCI Whitney Walker. In the room is …’ She nodded at Terry.
‘DI Terry Gardner.’
‘And—please state your names,’ she said to Thackeray and the solicitor.
‘Norman Thackeray,’ the prisoner said.
‘Roger Ashton, acting for the accused.’
‘Mr Thackeray, you are still under caution and anything you say may be used in evidence. Do you understand?’
He nodded.
‘Please answer for the tape.’
‘Yes, I understand,’ he said.
‘When we interviewed you at your house, you admitted to carrying out murders on the ninth, thirteenth, and seventeenth of June.’
The solicitor leaned in and spoke quietly to him.
‘Yes, I said that,’ Thackeray said.
‘And you’re still pleading guilty to these offences?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘He’s lying,’ George said to Whitney in her earpiece. ‘Keep going with the questioning, and we’ll find out what’s behind it. I suggest you ask him to give a detailed account of the actual murders.’
Whitney gave an almost imperceptible nod.
‘I’d like to start with the murder of Hugo Holmes-Reed. I want you to tell me exactly what happened and how you carried out the murder.’
Thackeray shifted awkwardly in his seat. ‘Why do you want to know everything? All you need to know is I did it.’
‘Where did you board the train on which you committed the murder?’ Whitney asked.
‘I don’t remember.’
‘And how did you get to the station?’
‘Which sta
tion?’
‘Where you boarded. How did you get there?’
‘I caught the train from Birmingham.’
‘You caught a train from Birmingham to …?’
‘The station.’
‘Mr Thackeray, do you realise you’re facing a life sentence for these murders?’ Whitney asked, frustration showing in her voice.
‘Yes. My memory’s a little hazy.’
‘Ask him about the knife and how he carried out the murder,’ George suggested. ‘So far he’s given us nothing he couldn’t have ascertained from the media.’
‘Mr Thackeray, what weapon did you use in the murders?’
‘A knife.’
‘What sort of knife?’
‘A hunting knife.’
‘Please describe it to me.’
‘It’s a fixed blade knife with a green handle.’
‘How long is the blade?’
‘About five inches.’
‘Do you know a lot about knives?’
‘Yes. I learned from my father, who used to take me hunting.’
‘His version of the weapon certainly fits with Claire’s account,’ George said. ‘So, maybe he does know something.’
‘Returning to the murders, can you explain in more detail exactly how you carried them out?’
‘I went on the train, found someone who was on their own, and stabbed them with a knife.’
‘He’d know all this from reports of the other murders,’ George said. ‘But he hasn’t mentioned the chloroform or described how the victims were all stabbed between their ribs.’
‘Show me exactly how you stabbed the person,’ Whitney said.
‘I fail to see why we need this line of questioning,’ the solicitor said. ‘My client has admitted to the offences; we don’t need to go into any detail at this stage. Mr Thackeray, I advise you to say nothing further. Save it for when we’re in court for your sentencing hearing.’
George observed how Whitney’s body had tensed.
‘Mr Thackeray,’ Terry said. ‘Do you admit to all of the murders over the last two years?’
Whitney looked in Terry’s direction. He clearly didn’t know about Whitney’s no-asking-questions rule. George smiled to herself.
‘Yes, I am,’ Thackeray replied.
‘Why did you commit these murders?’ Terry said.
‘To get back at Transwide for making me redundant.’
