Eyes of the Wicked

by Adam J. Wright

  After their debate in the subject, Jo looked into the camera and said, “Well, Martin, we might get the answers to our questions after the break when we talk to Chief Superintendent Ian Gallow, the man who is heading the police’s new crime-busting initiative called Murder Force. Stay tuned for that, coming up next.”

  She smiled and the show’s title appeared on the screen, along with a catchy piece of music . Then the adverts came on.

  Dani sat forward on the settee. She didn’t know Gallow was going to be on breakfast TV. She supposed it made sense since he wanted to elevate public awareness of Murder Force but his name being mentioned on the telly while she was eating breakfast had taken her by surprise.

  After the adverts, the title appeared again along with the catchy music. The shot of the studio that opened this segment was a wide-angle one, and Dani saw Gallow sitting on the Live with Jo and Martin pink settee in full uniform, his hat next to him on the arm of the sofa.

  The shot switched to a closer angle that showed Jo and Martin sitting on a sofa across from Gallow, ready to ask their questions.

  Jo looked into the camera with an earnest expression on her face. “We’re all aware of the tragic murder of Yorkshire nurse Tanya Ward. Her untimely death was reported just one day after 15-year-old Derbyshire schoolgirl Abigail Newton was found wandering over the Yorkshire moors. Here to talk about the two crimes, and a new police team tasked with finding the perpetrators, is Chief Superintendent Ian Gallow.”

  She turned to Gallow. “Chief Superintendent, thanks for joining us. What can you tell us about the abduction of Abigail Newton? We’ve been told that she isn’t talking about her ordeal. Is that correct?”

  Gallow nodded. “That’s right. At the present time, Abigail is with her family, safe and well. She hasn’t spoken of her ordeal yet but we’re confident she’ll be giving us some information in the near future.”

  “Information that could help you apprehend the person who kidnapped her?” Martin asked.

  “That’s the hope, yes,” Gallow said.

  “So are you saying you need Abigail’s statement before you can solve this case?” Jo asked.

  “Well, it would be helpful, but we don’t need it, no. We’re already working on a number of leads and our officers are uncovering new evidence every day.”

  “And are these officers all members of Murder Force, the new police team?” Martin said. “What can you tell us about that?”

  “Murder Force isn’t fully operational just yet,” Gallow said. “So we’re working alongside the North Yorkshire and Derbyshire police forces at the moment. However, Murder Force detectives are taking the lead in this investigation and that of Tanya Ward’s murder.”

  “So the two crimes are linked?” Martin asked.

  “I can’t comment on that aspect of the investigation at the moment.” Gallow gave Martin Parish a thin-lipped smile that clearly told the TV presenter that he wasn’t going to be making any big reveals this morning. “I will simply say that Murder Force is working tirelessly on these cases and no stone is being left unturned.”

  Dani supposed that this TV appearance was Gallow’s way of getting Murder Force’s name out there in the public consciousness. This was the beginning of the high-profile PR the Chief Superintendent had mentioned in Holloway’s office. As far as daytime TV went, it didn’t get much more high profile than Live With Jo and Martin.

  “And why does this country need a new team of detectives?” Jo asked. She was either playing devil’s advocate or she was feeding Gallow the right questions to lead him to his next statement.

  Dani suspected the latter; Gallow would have made sure that the first TV appearance in which he was going to introduce Murder Force to millions of viewers would be carefully scripted.

  “I’m glad you asked that question,” he said with a smile, affirming Dani’s suspicions. “Let me be clear; we have wonderful policemen and women in this country. They do a fine job. However, mistakes have been made in the past; mistakes that have come about because of a lack of communication between various police forces. Names have slipped through the system unnoticed. Evidence has been missed. Murder Force’s priority is to make sure that these kinds of mistakes aren’t repeated in the future and the worst criminals in our society are brought to swift justice.”

  “And how do you intend to do that?” Jo asked.

  “By eliminating inter-force politics and broken lines of communication. The investigations of certain crimes will be handled by the highly experienced Murder Force officers. We will also be collating information regarding crimes around the country that may be linked. These links are sometimes missed because different forces are sometimes working on different aspects of the same case without realising it.”

  “What exactly do you mean by that?” Martin asked, leaning forward on the sofa and putting his hand on his chin.

  “Simply that two or three different police forces might be working on separate murder cases, unaware that they are all looking for the same perpetrator. It’s happened in the past.”

  Martin nodded. “So you’re talking about serial killers?”

  “I am. Murder Force will be examining the details of various cases around the country and searching for links that the investigating officers are unaware of. A murder in Newcastle, for example, might have been committed by the same perpetrator as a murder in Nottingham and the two forces investigating each crime might not know that their cases are linked.”

  Jo raised an eyebrow and nodded. “So Murder Force will be hunting serial killers.”

  “We’ll be looking for linked crimes,” Gallow said. But his knowing smile and almost imperceptible nod said, Yes, we’ll be hunting serial killers.

  “And I believe you have some well-known detectives on the team,” Martin said. “Detectives who have appeared in the media before because of their work catching serial killers.”

  “That’s right. I’m sure your viewers will be familiar with DCI Stewart Battle, the man in charge of our team. He solved a forty-year-old murder case in Derbyshire recently and caught a serial killer while he was at it.”

  A photograph of the front page of The Sun from a couple of years ago appeared on the screen, showing Battle walking away from a crime scene beneath the headline Hero Detective Solves Forty-Year-Old Murder.

  “And do you remember the Snow Killer in North Yorkshire?” Gallow asked.

  Jo and Martin both nodded. Martin looked toward the camera. “Also called the Red Ribbon Killer because he left a red ribbon at the crime scenes.”

  Dani froze, a spoon of porridge halfway between the bowl and her mouth. Gallow wasn’t going to say she was part of Murder Force, was he? She hadn’t decided if she was joining or not. If Gallow said she was part of the team, he’d be lying to the media, which would make her decision a lot easier; she couldn’t work for a boss who wasn’t truthful.

  “Yes,” Gallow said. “Well, we’ve got Detective Inspector Danica Summers working with us. She’s the detective who was in charge of the investigation that brought the Snow Killer to justice. You may remember seeing her in the papers a year ago.”

  The Sun front page was replaced by one from the Mirror, this one bearing the headline DI Summers Gets Her Man and a photo of Dani walking across the moors, unaware that her picture was being taken.

  “Yes, we all remember her,” Jo said, making Dani cringe. “So she’s part of Murder Force as well?”

  “Not yet,” Gallow said, raising a finger. “But I’m hoping she soon will be.”

  Dani put the spoonful of porridge into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. At least Gallow had been honest about her involvement with the team.

  “We also have Tony Sheridan on the team,” Gallow said. “He’s the psychologist who was instrumental in the arrest of the Lake Erie Ripper in Canada a couple of years ago.”

  That gave Dani pause. So Sheridan had worked on a high-profile investigation as well. She’d heard of the Lake Erie Ripper case but only vaguely. Fr
om what she could remember of the case, a forensic psychologist working with the Ontario Police Department had personally rescued two girls from the Ripper’s house and had faced the serial killer alone until help had arrived.

  She seemed to remember that the psychologist had required mental as well as physical care after the encounter. Was that Sheridan?

  Martin held a finger to his ear and said, “That’s all we have time for Chief Superintendent. We wish you luck in finding the person or persons responsible for the abduction of Abigail Newton and the murder of Tanya Ward.”

  “Thank you,” Gallow said. “And please be assured that the members of Murder Force will do the best job they can to serve the people of this country.”

  The camera cut to a close up of Martin’s face. “After the break, we’ll be discussing reality TV shows. Are they damaging our children?”

  The title screen appeared, along with the music, and Dani turned off the TV.

  She showered and got dressed in an old jumper and jeans and put her coat and boots on while the dogs, who had sensed that a walk was on the cards, whirled excitedly around her legs, almost knocking her over.

  Putting collars and leads on two excited Shepherds was no easy task but Dani managed it and led Barney and Jack out through the front door. She walked them through the small village and then onto the moors, where she took the leads off and watched the dogs skitter about in the snow.

  Twenty minutes later, while she was watching the dogs and wondering if she should have lunch at a local pub, her phone rang. It was Battle.

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I’m walking my dogs. It’s my day off.”

  “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know. Does that mean you won’t be coming in today?”

  “That’s what a day off usually means,” she said.

  “Ah, all right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’m off tomorrow as well.” She paused and then asked, “Has something happened, guv?”

  “You could say that. Some hikers have stumbled across Tanya Ward’s car in a ditch.”

  “Send me the location, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  She called the dogs and ran with them back to the cottage.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The orange Volkswagen Beetle wasn’t exactly in a ditch as the uniformed officer who’d attended the scene had told dispatch. It was actually hidden in a small copse of trees near the road. Battle got out of his Range Rover and trudged through the snow to the car.

  SOCO were crawling over the car, taking samples, dusting for prints, and shining various lights into the Beetle’s interior. The area in which they worked had been cordoned off by crime scene tape. A second, smaller area a few yards away had also been taped off. One Scenes of Crimes Officer was working in that area.

  “What’s over there?” Battle asked the nearest uniformed officer, pointing to the smaller section of tape.

  “I’m not sure, sir,” the officer said.

  Ray Rickman, who Battle knew as the head of SOCO, came to the edge of the tape and removed his face mask. “It’s one of the wheels,” he said to Battle. “The car was probably sabotaged. It came off the road here and then someone pushed it into the trees so it wouldn’t be seen.”

  Battle nodded. So the killer hadn’t been opportunistic; he’d arranged for Tanya’s car to crash.

  He went back to the Range Rover and fished a map of the area out of the glove box. Unfolding it on the bonnet, he located the area in which he now stood and used his finger to follow the road back to Larkmoor House, Tanya’s place of work. It wasn’t far at all. No more than a couple of miles.

  The Beetle had probably been sabotaged while Tanya was working her shift. She’d only managed to get a couple of miles down the road before the killer had struck.

  DI Summers’ Land Rover pulled up behind Battle’s car and she got out. When she saw Battle consulting the map, she came over to him. “What have we got, guv?”

  “Tanya’s car was sabotaged,” he told her. “Probably at Larkmoor House. She got this far before one of the wheels fell off. He hid the car in the trees over there.”

  She surveyed the scene and Battle knew her brain was working overtime, coming up with questions, hoping for an insight that would narrow the search for the killer. He hoped she was going to join Murder Force because from what he’d seen of her, she was a very capable detective with a sharp, inquiring mind.

  “And no one at Larkmoor saw anything,” Battle mused out loud. He’d read through the interviews Dani and her DS had conducted and even reading between the lines of the statements given by the hospital staff, he couldn’t see anything that indicated someone was covering something up.

  Each member of staff could account for the others on shift that night. Nobody had left the building that night until Tanya went home at 2 a.m.

  “Nothing,” Dani said. “Tanya arrived at six and went home eight hours later. There were no suspicious vehicles in the car park, no one hanging around.”

  “We need to check the CCTV,” he said. “That car didn’t sabotage itself.” Footage from a camera in the Larkmoor House car park had been reviewed by the missing persons officers when Tanya had first disappeared. According to their report, the footage showed nothing out of the ordinary, but Battle wanted to see it for himself.

  He gestured to the car and the SOCOs swarming all over it. “There’s not much more we can do here. You might as well go back to your day off. I need to get to Whitby. My wife’s coming up on the train and I’ve got to meet her at the station.”

  “What about the CCTV, guv? Don’t you want me to check that?”

  “That can wait until tomorrow. Oh, you’re off tomorrow as well, aren’t you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m going to come in. I booked the day off when I had…other arrangements.”

  A sadness crossed her face. Battle was surprised that a young, attractive woman like Dani didn’t have plans for Christmas Day. He didn’t know much about her personal life other than the fact that her husband had died some years ago. And she had a daughter. He seemed to think he’d heard that somewhere.

  “Listen,” he said. “Why don’t we review that footage in the morning and then you can come and have Christmas dinner with me and Rowena.” The thought of DI Summers being alone on Christmas Day didn’t sit well with him.

  She looked taken aback by the suggestion. “I really couldn’t impose, guv.”

  “Nonsense. We’re only going to a restaurant anyway.”

  “Won’t your wife mind?”

  “Of course not. She’ll be glad to have someone else to talk to. I warn you, though; she’ll probably bend your ear about the best shops and places to eat in Whitby and she’ll want to know all the details.”

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll come. Thank you.”

  “Right, I’ve got to get to Whitby,” he said. “Enjoy the rest of your day off and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He folded the map and stuffed it back into the glove box as he got behind the wheel of the Range Rover.

  Forty minutes later, after a short drive across the moors, he was looking for a space in the Co-op car park next to the train station in Whitby. Christmas Eve had brought the last-minute shoppers out in droves and it took Battle ten minutes to find a place to park the Range Rover.

  When he got out and hurried towards the station, he saw Rowena lugging her suitcase down the stone steps that led from the station to the car park.

  “I’ve got it, love,” he said, taking the suitcase from her. “How was your journey?”

  She gave him a peck on the cheek. “It was fine but I’m glad to finally be here. Are you rushing back to work after taking me to the hotel or are we spending the day together?”

  “Things are a bit quiet today,” he told her. “Some new evidence has turned up but it’s going to take a while for Forensics to process it. So I thought we might get a bite to eat and have a look round the shops.”

  Like DI Summer
s, he’d already booked today and tomorrow off as well. Also like her, he’d decided to have a look at the car despite being on holiday. There were plenty of personnel—some members of Murder Force and other members of the North Yorkshire Police—who were working on the case during his absence. If anything else important like the car turned up, they had instructions to contact him.

  He’d pop in tomorrow to look at the CCTV footage but until then, he had to wait for the cogs in the investigative machine to turn slowly and deliberately. Such was the curse of police work.

  They went back to the car and he put the case in the boot. As he got behind the wheel, he said to Rowena, “I’ve invited DI Summers…Dani…to lunch with us tomorrow. She didn’t seem to have anywhere else to go and I didn’t like to think of her being on her own on Christmas Day.”

  His wife gave him a warm smile. “Always thinking of others. That’s one of the reasons I love you, you know.”

  “I know.” He smiled at her, but the smile faded when he saw half a dozen journalists standing at the car park exit. A couple of them held small cameras, the others digital recorders and microphones. “Shit,” Battle said.

  “What’s wrong?” Rowena followed his gaze and her face dropped when she saw the reporters. “You don’t have to say anything to them, Stewart. They’ll get out of the way if you don’t stop.”

  “I know that,” he said, “but Gallow told us we’ve got to be media-friendly.”

  “They can’t just follow you around everywhere expecting an interview, though. There are limits.”

  Unfortunately, Gallow hadn’t mentioned what those limits were. He said he wanted the Murder Force personnel to be “good optics” as far as the media was concerned. If Battle drove through the reporters with his head down or shouted, “No comment!” at them through the window and it appeared in the papers or on the News, that wasn’t good optics.

  Battle sighed and unfastened his seat belt. “I’ll have a quick word with them. Maybe then they’ll leave me alone.”