‘No it isn’t,’ said Jo, pushing past him into the flat. ‘It’s called a murder enquiry.’
‘I’ve already answered all your questions.’ Byrd closed the front door and followed Jo and Byrd into the living room.
‘Oh, didn’t I make myself clear? It’s a new murder enquiry.’
‘With a new body,’ said Byrd.
‘Found this morning. What is her name, Byrd?’
‘Imogen Stone.’
‘Ah, that’s right. Imogen Stone. Do you know her, Daniel?’ Jo asked.
‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘She’s your type,’ continued Jo. ‘Tall, slim and with long dark hair.’
‘What do you mean, ‘my type’?’
‘Alison, Charlotte and now Imogen. All three tall and slim with long dark hair. Shame you had to cut it.’
‘What? What are you talking about?’
‘You cut their hair to resemble an Egyptian.’
‘Are you mad?’
‘No, but I think you might be. What do you think, Byrd?’
‘Oh definitely mad.’
‘The only mad people here are you two,’ said Tate. ‘Are you going to stop talking in riddles and tell me what you want? Otherwise I’m off to work.’
‘Please sit down, Mr Tate. You don’t get off that easily. Byrd here has the dates we need to check your movements for.’
But in the end Jo and Eddie had no option but to let Tate go off to work. They kept him as long as they could, but he wouldn’t break. Either that or he was telling the truth, said Byrd afterward and got a punch on the arm for his trouble.
Daniel Tate had kept insisting that he was in the flat, alone, exhausted after several busy days at work. When asked where he was working, he said he’d have to look in his business diary that was at the Leisure Centre. The undisputed fact was that if he was in the flat there was no one to corroborate his story. After all his flat mate, who might have been able to give him an alibi, was dead. That creeped Jo out, but it wasn’t evidence, she had to admit.
30
Judith was pinning up details of Imogen Stone on the whiteboard when Jo and Byrd walked in from seeing Daniel Tate. They stopped to read the details and Jill joined them.
‘Has she been positively identified?’ Jo asked.
‘Pretty much, gov. Bill was down with the body in the morgue, so I sent him through a photograph of Imogen. He says she the spitting image of our missing girl.’
‘Parents?’
‘They live in the Midlands. The local police are going to see them. As Imogen was naked and wrapped in bandages and wasn’t wearing any jewellery either, there’s nothing that can be used for the purposes of identification. So they’re arranging for her parents to come down and do a formal identification.’
Jo closed her eyes for a moment. Yet another family devastated, torn apart, never to be the same again. The enormity of three dead girls was weighing heavily on her shoulders. Her first suspect, Daniel Tate, wasn’t panning out and what frightened her was that she didn’t have anyone else in the frame. No one at all. Anyone in Chichester could be their killer and she wouldn’t know. She swayed on her feet.
Eddie must have noticed as he put out a hand to steady her. ‘You alright, Boss?’ he murmured.
She briefly nodded and turned to her team. ‘So why all Uni victims?’
‘It’s a big university town. Lots of young girls around to choose from,’ said Byrd.
‘That’s true,’ said Jo. ‘But it doesn’t mean very much, or does it?’
‘Sorry, Boss?’ Jill said.
‘I think there has to be another criteria as well. For instance, lots of young girls around to choose from, but they must be tall, slim, with black hair.'
‘So the connection isn’t necessarily the university, but it’s the type that he’s looking for.’
‘That’s right, Jill. What other connections do we have apart from looks?’
‘Age? Dress?’ suggested Judith, who had started noting down their discussion on the board.
‘Going back to the university connection,’ said Byrd, ‘Is there a person they’re all connected to from there?’
‘Good thought,’ said Jo. ‘I take it you mean a professor, or Danial Tate himself.’
‘That’s right, Boss.’
‘What about work?’ said Jill. ‘Do they all work part time as well as studying?’
‘Great, Judith. Anyone else?’
The team shook their heads and looked around at each other.
‘Okay, let’s investigate those angles. Divvy up the jobs between yourselves. I’m off to see DCI Crooks who wants an update and then to the press briefing. Wish me luck, I think I’m going to need it.’
Jo left the office to calls of solidarity, knowing that she needed all the support she could get to keep her job on this investigation. Three dead girls, at least that they knew of, and not one solid lead. It couldn’t go on, she knew that. It all depended upon how generous her boss was feeling, she guessed.
31
Lindsay was no longer enthralled by the police press conferences. The thought of another girl taken by Anubis and subsequently found dead left her feeling strangely numb. Gone was her confidence that she could make a difference, help crack the case, use her skills to outwit the killer and help the police. Who was she kidding? Herself, that’s who.
Archie noticed how despondent she was. ‘Hey, Lindsay,’ he said. ‘What’s up?’
She shook her head. ‘Sorry, Archie, I’m just so sad that another girl has been found dead. Probably another student, just like me.’
‘Are you feeling frightened then?’
‘Yeah, actually, I guess I am.’
‘Great. Write me a piece.’
‘What?’
‘Write me a piece on how you feel. How your friends feel. What it’s like to be constantly on your guard. Scanning the crowd, trying to find someone who stands out. Someone who could be the killer. How it’s driving you nuts.’
She stared at him. ‘You are deadly serious, aren’t you?’
‘Of course. Why?’
‘Because that’s the most awful thing you could ask me to do. Fan the fears of hundreds of innocent students. Whip up public opinion. Write it yourself!’
Lindsay gathered her stuff and stalked out of the press briefing room at the police station. She was furious. How dare he! Clattering out of the building she realised she had to do something though. Something that would help identify Anubis. She had a meeting with her tutor on Monday. Maybe he could help.
32
Jo returned from the press conference and a conversation with DCI Crooks, with better news than she’d originally thought she would. Calling the whole team together she confirmed they were still on the case, and that Crooks had supported them during the press conference, saying that he had absolute faith in her and her team. But afterwards she had been told in no uncertain terms by him that a result was expected in the next week or so, or otherwise another SIO would replace Jo.
‘And if you’re replaced?’
‘We can expect most of us to be gone, Byrd.’ Jo answered his question with honesty. She’d never pulled her punches with Byrd and didn’t intend to start now. ‘The new SIO would want his or her own team I expect.’
‘Best we get on with it then,’ said Judith.
‘No. We are all exhausted. It’s late Saturday night and I’m sending you all home. Unless we get some rest, we’re never going to crack this one. We can’t think straight, never mind come up with new thinking or new evidence, so that’s an order. I want everyone back at 7am on Monday.’
‘Does that prescription for rest extend to you, Boss?’
Jo smiled. ‘Yes, Byrd it does. Now bugger off.’
With much scraping of chairs and beeping of computers, the team got ready to leave. Although Jo principally dealt with Byrd, Judith and Jill in the office, there were another 20 or so officers in the team at the moment, who carried out the leg work and the hard slo
g through CCTV, cold cases and missing persons. Every one of them was committed to Jo and it was her responsibility to look after them.
She went back to her office, sat at her desk, leaned back and closed her eyes. She’d go home in a minute. Have a rest and recharge, then work with her dad on the case on Sunday. That might just give her a different perspective on Tate and his antics. Waiting until everyone had gone, and the lights had been turned out, had allowed Jo a little while to force her body and mind to relax. She was ready to go home and craved the peace and quiet her little flat afforded her.
Walking to the lift she saw that Byrd was stood there waiting. For the lift? Or for her? He was dressed smart casual with his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jacket slung over his shoulder and the muddy coloured canvas trousers Jo liked so much, as it showed off his assets. She shook her head. What on earth was she thinking? It was Byrd she was talking about. Her detective sergeant. The man she worked most closely with. And perhaps that was the problem. It created a bubble around them that others had trouble breaking through. They knew each other well and could share their most outrageous thoughts about a case, without fear of being ridiculed.
Hearing her, he turned and gave her that lazy smile she knew so well. ‘Hey, Boss. You okay?’
She nodded, not sure that she could speak.
‘Want a drink?’
She took a deep breath and then against all her instincts, declined. ‘Thanks for the offer, Eddie, but I think I should head home.’
‘Family?’
‘God, I hope not! I’m craving solitude not company, I’m afraid.’
The ping of the bell alerted them to the arrival of the lift, but they ignored it and walked down the stairs together. The short journey was taken in silence. As they arrived at the ground floor Byrd tried again.
‘You sure about that drink?’
Jo nodded. ‘I’m sure. But I appreciate the offer. See you Monday,’ and walked away before she gave in to the demands of her emotions and if she was honest with herself, her body.
She had an easy journey home and as she swung her mini into the drive, she was confronted with several cars.
‘Shit.’ It looked like the family were there in force.
She managed to park her little car down the side of the garage and got out, hoping against hope no one would see her.
‘Hi, Jo.’
She groaned. Her dad must have heard the car.
‘Coming in?’
‘Must I?’
‘It’s Kylie’s birthday.’
Fuck. She forgotten all about her niece’s fifth birthday. Could she really face her brothers and their wives, not to mention screaming kids?
‘I can’t, dad. I didn’t get a present, I clean forgot about it.’
Her dad grinned. ‘I knew you would, so I bought one for you to give to her. Come in, just for a piece of cake. Please?’
‘Half an hour,’ Jo growled, ‘and then I really will need to sleep. I suppose if I don’t you won’t come up and help with the case tomorrow.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Come on, then, let’s get this over with.’
Although Jo grumbled on the surface, inside she was glad of her brothers. They’d helped her a lot in the past. And anyway, who could resist the charms of Kylie and the gap in her front teeth?
33
On Sunday morning Jo woke up ravenous. She’d spent an hour yesterday with the family before climbing the stairs to her flat and crashing out. The rest had done her good and she was eager to get going reviewing the case. But first she had to eat. She quickly dressed in sweats then texted her dad, asking if he wanted to join her for breakfast at a local café. His immediate reply was, ‘Yes!’ and by the time she reached the bottom of her stairs he’d turned up, still putting on his coat. She’d never known her dad to turn down the offer of food, hence the thickening waist. But she wouldn’t mention it today. No need to spoil a nice day before it had even started.
They walked to a café about 100 yards down the road. It was an old-fashioned affair, offering cooked breakfast all day and at prices that were reasonable, but that depended upon your point of view. Jo found West Sussex to be one of the most expensive areas she’d lived in. Over £3 for a coffee was extortionate considering the small cost it took to produce.
As they entered the cafe, the smell of bacon and coffee filled Jo’s nostrils and made her stomach rumble. Finding a seat near the back, Jo said, ‘What do you fancy, Dad?’ and grabbed a menu.
‘My usual, ‘The Full Monty’.’
Jo threw him a look.
‘It’s the only meal I’ll have today,’ he protested. ‘There’s no plans for Sunday Lunch. Do you expect me to starve?’
Jo had to shake her head and laugh. ‘No Dad, heaven forbid I should do that.’
She ordered two Full Monty’s and two coffees from a passing waitress and settled down to wait for breakfast.
‘How’s the case going?’
‘To be honest, we’re a bit stuck. Three bodies now and not a single bloody clue no matter how hard we try to find one. But I don’t want to talk about it over breakfast. I’d like to enjoy my meal without thoughts of dead bodies putting me off it.’
He grinned. ‘I’ll second that one,’ and they proceeded to talk about the family instead and the birthday they’d celebrated yesterday.
A while later, full and sleepy, they walked back to the house and up the stairs to Jo’s flat. She put on more coffee to keep them awake and then took up her place in front of the board.
‘The main question I have,’ said Mick, ‘is about Daniel Tate. Is he really our killer?’
‘Bloody hell you and Byrd both. But how do I find out? Half the time he doesn’t have alibis. If he’s supposedly out, no one sees him. If in alone, there’s no one to corroborate it, as he no longer has a flatmate.’
‘What’s his motive?’
‘Maybe he’s killed before and Alison found out about it and threaten to call the police? Is that why Alison is dead?’
‘That would work, if we had any evidence of it. Are you getting any visions from him?’
‘Nothing much. A feeling of danger and anger, but to be honest, it’s sexual rather than homicidal.’
‘Liking a bit of bondage doesn’t make him a killer, Jo. Where does the Egyptian connection come from?’ Mick looked as sceptical as his words.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Jo. ‘There is no evidence he’s doing anything even remotely related to Egypt.’
‘And the books under Alison’s bed? Were they hers? Or Tate’s?’
‘We don’t know,’ admitted Jo. ‘He has a connection with the Uni working in the campus gym. Maybe doing one to one training with the girls started his fantasies?’
‘But what does he see in them? What makes him want to kill them? There must be something else, he can’t just kill them for the sake of it. What of their traits makes him take them and want to kill them?’
‘Has he been scorned by one or all of them?’ mused Jo. ‘Come on to them only to be rejected and now thinks they are stuck up cows? It’s so hard to know what makes him tick. Maybe I need a psychological profile done on him?’
‘That could be a good place to start,’ agreed Mick.
Jo stood and stretched. ‘Thanks for brainstorming with me, dad.’
‘I’m not so sure I helped.’ Mick also stood.
‘Oh yes, you always help me see the wood from the trees.’ Jo hugged him.
‘So what’s your next move?’
‘I’m not sure yet, I’ll let all this percolate and see where I am tomorrow. Oh, shit, the percolator!’ and Jo ran into the kitchen, her father’s laughter following her.
34
Jo returned to the station on Monday with a spring in her step. The rest had done her good. So had the short contact she’d had with her brothers and their families, not that she’d admit that to anyone. Then breakfast and spending the morning with her father on Sunday was another plus. She even
had time for a long run on Sunday afternoon. As a result she was definitely in a better place than she had been on Saturday, when she’d felt burned out, drained and shattered.
Calling everyone together, she did her Henry V speech to the team, which had been her dad’s idea. The one that gets everyone to pull together to defeat the common enemy, that together they were far stronger than their killer who was alone and that they would get the justice his victims deserved. She’d even stood on a chair to add to the effect.
‘Nice one, Boss,’ said Byrd afterwards, leaning on the frame of her open door.
‘Thought you’d enjoy it,’ she smiled. ‘Anyway, what can I do for you?’
‘Have you noticed Jill isn’t here?’
‘She isn’t?’
‘No. That’s what I just said.’
Jo said, ‘I just imagined she was hidden from my view by other officers. It never occurred to me she wouldn’t be here.’
‘Me neither, but she isn’t. Have you heard from her?’
‘No. Have you?’
‘No. That’s why I’m worried. It just isn’t like her.’
‘Have you rung her mobile?’
Byrd said, ‘Yes, it just goes to answer phone and there’s no reply from the land line at her flat either.’
‘That’s very strange.’
‘I know, she appears to have disappeared into thin air.’
‘Shit.’
‘My thoughts exactly. At least that was my first thought.’
‘Do I want to know the second?’
‘Daniel Tate,’ they said together.
‘But why him?’ Jo still wasn’t too worried. The thought of Jill being taken by Daniel Tate didn’t seem possible. Surely, if he was their killer, he wouldn’t be so brazen as to take one of her officers. ‘She’s got red hair,’ she finished lamely. ‘How did you come to that that conclusion?’
‘She made some comment to me about getting one to one training from him.’
‘Are you serious?’
Touching the Dead Page 9
