‘Once you’ve seen a few of them, you get used to it. I come from the Fens, remember. It doesn’t matter how often you tell the kids not to go too fast on those country roads, they still end up in the ditches. And that’s not to mention the farming accidents. Every few years someone falls asleep in a field and gets runs over.’
Barton strode from the scene, trying not to think of combine harvesters. He stopped at his car and stared back over the choppy water. He had a nasty feeling that today wouldn’t be his last dealings with the body from the lake.
34
The Soul Killer
I’m nervous about what I’m going to do, but there’s something in the air today that makes me think it will go well. I step out of the front door at the same time as my next-door neighbour. He’s grinning too. Spring always has this effect on me. I detect a different warmth in the direct sunshine. I can hear the birds conducting their business and the sound of a mower somewhere in the distance.
Robin reaches the end of the path and stops. He looks smart and often reminds me of how well many professional golfers dress. We talk more now the asshole, our ex-neighbour, Stone, has gone. He even invited me in for a coffee once. I wandered around and admired how he’d decorated the place. Although, obviously I’d been inside his house on Boxing Day. Once he knocked on my door and gave me a huge slice of a cake he’d baked. However, I keep him at arm’s length. I don’t need any more friends or distractions. Claudia deserves all my attention. In some ways it’s a shame, because I find him endearing and upbeat. Still, he might be on borrowed time.
Robin stops with an excited, dramatic expression on his face, but I still detect a hint of tiredness beneath his eyes, which should be absent now the music’s stopped.
‘You won’t guess who banged on my door a few days ago,’ he says.
‘Tooth fairy?’
‘No.’
‘Elton John?’
‘I wish. No, your lot.’
‘The loners’ society?’
‘The police! This particular officer was very dishy in his uniform.’
‘Really? What for?’
He speaks in a hushed conspiratorial tone. ‘It was him with the deafening beats, Arnold Stone. His mum has reported him missing.’
‘She took her time. He’s been gone ages.’
‘Apparently they weren’t at all close. He struggled with drink and drugs, and they only spoke on the phone every three or four weeks. She’d not heard from him for months. He usually went to see her once a year in February on the anniversary of his father’s death. There was no sign of him, and he isn’t answering his mobile.’
‘That’s a little odd. Did you tell the officer that Stone had mentioned he was moving away?’
‘Yes, of course. He didn’t seem surprised at that. People like him disappear all the time, but they have a duty to investigate. His mother lives up north and is in poor health so she can’t visit herself. The policeman thought it was pretty obvious he’d done a bunk when I told him that the property owner also hoped to find him.’
‘You’ve got your finger on the pulse. No one’s knocked on my door.’
‘They did, actually. Your car was there, but you must have been out. The landlord informed him that Stone paid his rent pretty erratically and fell further and further behind. He hated him as well because he was rude when he chased his arrears. Apparently, there isn’t much he can do until the tenant’s two months behind. Stone’s missed three complete payments now, so there’s a notice of abandonment on the door.
‘Apparently, Stone had changed the locks. The landlord called a locksmith out to gain entry, he reckoned to ensure that Stone wasn’t dead in there and to make it secure. He found cutlery, crockery, old paperwork, and a few items of clothing. There was a mobile phone in the bin, but there was a layer of dust over everything. It looks like Stone left last Christmas.’
‘Looks like you and the landlord made that copper’s day for him. Solved his problem without him having to do anything.’
Robin laughed. ‘Yes, that’s what he said. Someone new will be moving in. Let’s hope we have more luck with this one. Maybe we should have a “welcome to the street” party.’
I can’t prevent my lips pulling back. Robin leans into me. ‘You’re a private person, aren’t you?’
‘Yes. I had a bad experience with a neighbour once. I like to keep my distance nowadays. People can be funny about living near a policeman.’
‘That’s fine. I understand. Not everyone’s as understanding with my lot either. See you later.’
Later that day, Robin’s boyfriend arrives in a low riding, sky blue, 7 series BMW, which must start at eighty grand. This one screams to be looked at. He crawls over the potholes so as not to ground the car. Grey flecks his hair. He looks a little like Sean Penn. He’s as feisty, too. They’ve had some real humdinging arguments lately. I reckon Robin is a bit of fun soon to be discarded. Despite that, Robin gets in and gives him a lingering kiss. The Penn lookalike pulls away when he spots me watching. Mother would have hated that sort of behaviour in public. Personally, I believe people should be able to live how they please. There’s too much interfering in others’ business nowadays.
The news on Stone was interesting, though. I knew most of it, of course. I’d kept an eye out on the computer for missing men and Stone’s name had appeared. They don’t waste resources hunting someone who’s bolted to evade their debts.
I’d seen the policeman doing his cursory investigation and hidden behind the sofa when he’d knocked. I guessed that if he spoke to Robin, he’d never come back.
The law is on the tenants’ side now to a massive degree and plenty of scumbags like Stone take advantage of the situation. If they can blag their references, they pay their deposit and first month’s rent, move in, and then stop paying. The landlord has to wait and then go through the courts to evict them. It can take six months to get a possession order, which is more expense on top of not getting the rental payment but still having the mortgage to find. The tenant usually skips just before the final warning about imminent bailiffs, and they keep six months of housing benefit in the process.
I imagine that would make you slam a few doors. If it was my house that I rented out, I’d put the tenant’s head in the way first. Only last week, a case of GBH occurred when an argument overheated between the landlord and tenant.
Barney and the corpse have popped into my mind every now and again. I've cycled to the allotment on the odd dark night, stolen compost from other plots, and turned the compost heap over. Apparently, that helps with aerobic decomposition. Judging by the foul release of gas, it’s rotting fast. There’s nothing to be gained from moving him in that condition. Once he’s bones, I’ll dispose of him. I can probably just burn them. I ought to visit Barney, but all my focus has been on Claudia. She needs me. But I mustn’t forget poor Barney. I’ll write him a letter.
Before I see Claudia today, I’ve decided to have a chat with DI Barton. I asked him if I could pop around his home at the weekend. He told me to come on Sunday morning and have a coffee. I’m not sure which of my visits is making me more apprehensive: the one to him or Claudia’s.
I leave my street and arrive at the Thorpe Road junction. The Sessions House opposite was a pub I visited once. They converted it from a jail built in 1842. Such a stunning building, but the vegetables tasted as if they started cooking them back then. It’s closed now, and the forecourt is a car park for the railway station. The hospital complex, which filled the surrounding land, has been demolished and replaced by toy town houses. It’s a constant reminder that nothing stays the same. You need to adapt and respond or you get left behind.
I’ve learned that there are no handouts in this life. It’s a dog-eat-dog world. Only the ruthless survive.
35
DI Barton
Luke had Barton playing dinosaurs farm attack: his favourite game. He’d emptied out every single bucket from the playroom, and the almighty clash on the lounge carpet
was about to begin. Unsurprisingly, General Barton’s side were the livestock. His army lined up with a particularly large anteater, which Field Marshall Luke insisted was a farm animal, front and centre as his senior officer. The portly farmer next to him had a chicken under his arm and held second in command. Behind them, wave after wave of cows, horses, and pigs prepared to defend to the death, supported by a rearguard of three goats and a small fluffy donkey called Bernard.
Luke’s premier force comprised four tyrannosaurs, closely followed by ten velociraptors. Barton had concerns over his right-flank where he had a battalion of small sheep. The opposing line up of triceratops and other giant-horned dinosaurs nearby loomed menacingly.
His son’s trembling hands wielded an enormous plastic monster called a spinosaurus, which was more dragon than dinosaur. Strange how his boy couldn’t remember what he’d done with the remote control five minutes beforehand, yet could recall the scientific name of more than twenty of these prehistoric beasts.
Luke shouted, ‘Charge.’ The battle commenced.
‘Rah!’ Luke bellowed with wild eyes. Amazingly, considering that he had just informed his dad that it lived in water, spinosaurus swooped from the clouds and flattened his father’s advance team. The creature also savaged Barton’s thumb as Barton tried, and failed, to save Bernard.
Holly popped her head around the door. She’d raised three children and seen many shocking sights but even she was lost for words at the chaos that confronted her. Barton gave her a thumbs-up with his bleeding digit.
‘Are you the cavalry, come to rescue the day?’
‘If I owned a gun, I’d definitely use it. Why did you have to make such a mess? I’ve got friends arriving later.’
Barton opened his mouth to say it was Luke’s idea but knew it would sound pathetic. Still, he grinned. It was fun to play dinosaur Armageddon.
‘That colleague you said was coming over is here. I’ve put him in the dining room. Try not to wreck that as well.’
Barton sucked his thumb. His knees creaked as he rose, leaving Luke to smash his farm buildings by stomping on them with a vengeful brontosaurus. The war was over. The good guys lost. He found the officer smiling at a picture on the wall of a very young-looking Barton and Holly when they first met. He gave Barton an easy smile.
‘Morning, sir. How are you?’
‘Very well. You can call me John in my own house.’
‘Sorry, John. I won’t take up much of your time, but I wasn’t sure if I should mention this or not.’
‘Sounds serious. Do I need a strong coffee to hear it?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Well, you know the hanging case at Christmas?’
Barton raised an eyebrow. ‘Go on.’
‘The man had two daughters, twins called Annabelle and Claudia. I dated Claudia for about a year before her father committed suicide.’
‘Okay, I remember her well. She seems a clever woman.’
‘We’d more or less separated before he died. We drifted apart. I didn’t want to split up, but I wasn’t sure what to do. I was devastated, but her dad was ill, so I kept my distance. When I saw he’d killed himself, I didn’t know whether to say anything at work. It wasn’t really my business any more, and Claudia didn’t want me involved. She told the family liaison officer as much. Obviously, I would have mentioned it if we’d ended up investigating the death, but I informed Claudia we don’t deal with straightforward suicides anyway.’
Barton puffed out his cheeks. ‘Perhaps I will make a coffee. Wait here. You want one?’
‘No, thank you, sir.’
Barton grinned at the return to formality as he filled the kettle in the kitchen. Holly chopped vegetables in the sink. He winked at her and used the time to roll the information around his head. The man sounded naïve, and earnest, even though he must be in his early thirties. Barton was sure he had never been that way himself. He returned to the dining room with his cup.
‘I don’t think it matters. We never took the case. Were you close to the twins’ dad?’
‘No, not at all. I’d only met him on a few occasions.’
‘Okay, fair enough. I appreciate you telling me, but it was a straightforward suicide. Your connection wasn’t important.’
‘That’s a relief. I’ll get out of your way, then. Looks like you have a nice lunch planned. Although it sounded like there was a riot in your lounge.’
Barton raised both eyebrows at his humour. This officer rarely joked. As they stood, Barton asked him a final question. ‘Why tell me now?’
‘Since the funeral and what happened to her sister’s husband, we’ve got back together. It’s serious now. We’ve realised how much we mean to each other.’
‘That often happens. Tragedies like that make you see what is and isn’t important in your life. How is her sister coping with the death of her husband?’
‘Badly, as you’d expect. I only met Malcolm and her once or twice, but they seemed a strong couple. Claudia rented her own flat, but she’s moved into her sister’s house to support her. Unfortunately, losing two people close to her has pushed Annabelle close to the edge. She’s been signed off work and put on medication. She stayed in bed for a long time, but she has better days now and gets out sometimes.’
‘That’s a lot to deal with. Was her husband a good bloke?’
Barton noticed the man struggle with an internal battle. It finished quicker than the war in the lounge, but it definitely happened. With a sad smile, the reply was controlled and balanced.
‘He wasn’t especially friendly, but he was polite. I guess he came across a bit arrogant. She loved him though, and Malcolm was a big presence.’
‘Hopefully she’ll get there.’
‘There are a couple of other things I should mention.’
‘Go on.’
‘I thought I’d also tell you because I’m planning on asking Claudia to marry me.’
Barton concealed his open mouth by rubbing his chin. He contemplated having a joke with the young man but decided against it. Ginger used to say, don’t get married, get a motorbike. Then you can trade it in when the back end goes.
‘Congratulations. It’s a big commitment.’
‘I know. I’m prepared for it.’
Barton ushered him out while wondering whether Claudia would be ready for it. At the door, he remembered there were to be two more points.
‘What were the other things?’
Again, the man fumbled for the right words.
‘It’s okay. Another time. I’ll see you back at work.’
Barton watched the officer drive down the cul-de-sac to turn around at the bottom. He appreciated the fact that he crawled along. A lot of kids lived in the street nowadays, and they weren’t used to traffic. When the car passed, Barton gave him a double thumbs-up for luck. There was a good chance he’d need it. He returned to the kitchen where Holly was aggressively massaging butter onto the chicken. It wasn’t far off performing CPR.
‘What did that bird ever do to you? Isn’t there a no violence policy in our home?’
‘I need to strangle something.’
‘You have to let Luke play, Holly.’
‘I spent most of yesterday tidying this house from top to bottom, and you two have been up for a few hours this morning and wrecked it.’
Barton realised he was charting dangerous waters. ‘I’ll take him for a drive and keep out of your hair.’
‘Good idea. Don’t go to McDonald’s though, or he won’t eat his lunch.’
Barton had been rumbled but responded in style. ‘The park will be lovely on such a nice day. Anyway, my body is a finely tuned machine nowadays and irresistible to all. No doubt you’d like to cover me in butter later too.’
‘That won’t be happening, I’m afraid. I’ll be exhausted from repeatedly cleaning up after this family. Despite your tempting pert bottom.’ She whacked him on the behind with a wooden spatula. ‘That officer was a solemn young man. Did I hear him telling you he was
asking a girl to get married?’
‘Many of the younger officers in the department are serious types. It’s almost like they’re scared to have a joke in case it offends someone.’
‘Don’t all jokes insult people?’
Barton shrugged. ‘I guess. Although, I’ve found it more enjoyable to go through life not being so easily offended. I reckon he’s pushing his luck. That poor family have had a lot to handle, what with the brother-in-law’s drowning on top of the father’s suicide.’
‘Are neither suspicious?’
‘No. The post-mortems ticked all the boxes. Both died of asphyxiation but in different circumstances. We didn’t get involved. It’s tragic, but these things happen.’
Holly slammed the chicken into the oven and washed her hands. ‘Shall we all watch a movie after lunch?’
‘Yeah, although I hoped to pop to the gym later. I haven’t been for a few days and don’t want to let it slip.’
Barton’s skin prickled as he left the room. She tapped the spatula on the table, causing him to stop in the doorway.
‘Remember, we enjoy your company, and we don’t care how big your belly is as long as we can still see the TV.’
Barton decided to mention what had been on his mind for a while.
‘Do you mind who I work out with, even if it’s a woman?’
Holly’s eyes narrowed. ‘I assume you mean Sergeant Strange?’
‘Her most of the time, but also that lady from CSI, Sirena.’
‘The young one I met at Ginger’s funeral? I don’t think I have too much to worry about with those two.’
Barton returned to the apocalypse in the living room. Perhaps Sirena was too young and attractive to be interested in an old bloke like him anyway and he had nothing to worry about.
36
The Soul Killer
I decide to drive down Barton’s cul-de-sac and turn round at the bottom. It’s hard to comprehend this peaceful street housed those killers. But that’s why I’ll get away with it. No one thinks to look under their noses. Killers live in semi-detached houses and nod greetings to you as they pass, even in these nicer areas. The Snow Killer surprised us all.
The Soul Killer Page 14
