Georgina told her it was fine. She asked for the teenager’s name, took the pad of paper and scribbled her signature, adding a little note that said, “Keep Surfing!”. According to the mum, the daughter was bullied a few years ago, until she took up shortboarding, and met a new group of friends who helped her with her tormentors. The girl had flourished since, and Georgina had inspired her to take up the sport, apparently. The woman thanked her, shook her hand, and walked out of the shop beaming.
“Wow! What a great story,” a store clerk said, who had overheard everything. “How you can inspire people like that. Doesn’t it just make you go all gooey inside?”
Every time, Georgina thought, watching the woman walk out of the shop. Georgina got talking to the shop assistant, which took her mind off Elf Man and everything else. The clerk, a tiny brunette girl, maybe twenty, twenty-one tops, had no interest in surfing, but judging by the healthy tan, loved beaches. Amelia would get on well with her, Georgina thought with a pang of sorrow.
The assistant apologised for gabbing and let Georgina continue shopping. While studying the many styles of Nike trainers, she sensed the clerk staring from afar. She didn’t mind, the girl was star-struck; she experienced it wherever she went. All perfectly normal with two and a half million followers. And a large proportion of those fans were Australian, and more specifically from Sydney. Over the years, Georgina had grown used to living in the public eye. She wouldn’t admit to loving fame outside of her own mind.
Picking up the white with pink trim pair for a second time, she walked them over to the counter, noting the clerk barge past a fellow cashier to serve her. Georgina ignored it, smiled, and paid for the footwear. The cashier said “goodbye” a touch louder than she should have, and with a smattering of desperation. Georgina waved and strolled out, letting out a lungful of relief air. Desperate people scared her.
Approaching midday, she was supposed to meet Shane by the escalators at noon. He’d acted suspiciously when he’d left her an hour earlier. Approaching the escalator, she couldn’t see him. At the foot of the moving staircase, she stepped to the side and turned round, taking her phone out of her bag.
There had to be a way to get inside Amelia or Isla’s houses. Then she remembered Amelia had given a spare key to her mum. Having grown up with her from a young age, Georgina was almost a member of the Thomas family, and vice versa. She had to be careful: she didn’t want to scare Amelia’s mum.
Fortunately, she had the number stored in her phone. “Hi!” She was glad to hear the voice. After the initial niceties, she asked Amelia’s mum if she still had the spare key. It turned out that Amelia had sent her a text telling her she was up north with Kereama for a break.
Amelia’s mum replied in the affirmative. The only problem: she lived in Adelaide, a good fourteen-hour journey away. Georgina offered to drive over there to pick the key up. She was cut short when her second mum said she would drive to Amelia’s; she wanted to water the garden and clean up for her daughter’s return. The downside, she wouldn’t be arriving until Thursday night.
Trying to hide her disappointment, Georgina offered to put Amelia’s mum up for the night, but she refused, saying she would sleep in one of Amelia’s spare bedrooms. Georgina hung up, replacing her phone. On Thursday night, she would know more about what happened to Amelia and Kereama.
Turning round, she saw Shane walking towards the escalator on the second floor, a guy with a baseball cap on close behind him. Georgina smiled up at him, as he got to the top of the moving stairs. For some reason, she zoned in on the bloke behind him wearing the cap. There was something off about him.
The descending escalator clear of shoppers, she panicked when she realised who the cap-wearer was. “Shane! Behind you!” she shouted, as her boyfriend stepped on the top stair.
Georgina saw Elf Man’s foot hook Shane’s around his right leg.
Shane’s eyes widened and he yelled out as he tripped and fell onto the metal stairs.
She winced at the sight of her boyfriend landing on his left arm, before rolling down the rest of the steps. “Shane!” she cried, crouching to aid him.
Fully conscious and in pain, sweat formed on his brow. He’d adopted a pallid hue.
Georgina heard a whistle from up on the second level.
Elf Man stared down at her, a satisfied grin splattered across his face.
Even from a distance he was ugly.
She glared up at him until he disappeared from view.
“It’s broken, babe.”
She looked down at Shane’s misshapen arm; bone stuck out, but not through the skin. The metal stair had broken it cleanly. When she glanced back up, Elf Man was nowhere to be seen. Instead of going after him, she accepted help from the crowd who’d gathered after hearing the commotion.
Scanning the upper walkway for him, nothing. They were in trouble.
40
DI Coates picked up his mobile.
“It took some finagling in the probation service, but Mr Luckland came through with the name you’re after.”
Excited, he waved at Sergeant Packard to join him. “Go on! Who is it?” He had the PNC open, wanting to insert the name in the search bar, his fingers poised.
“Really? Is that all you’re going to say?” Bennett said, clearly hurt.
“Bennett, please can I have the name? I’ve been waiting on this for days now.” Coates didn’t want to massage his ego; he had a rapist and murderer out there, more than likely going to strike again, and he had no clue where. “I appreciate everything you and the justice secretary have done, and I’ll send you both a basket each, all right? With a cherry on top. But please, please, please give me the sodding name.”
“Danny Elfman.”
“Daniel Elfman.” Coates typed the name into the search bar.
“Did I just say Daniel? No, I said Danny Elfman.”
Coates glanced up at Packard, who looked confused. “You mean, as in the film composer?” He deleted “iel” and typed “ny” instead. He found the correct entry and studied the screen. The photo of Elfman was a spot-on match for Arthur Peebles.
His partner scribbled the name on a piece of paper and returned to his desk.
“Before I go, detective, the justice secretary asked me to convey his wishes for this to be handled discreetly. We don’t want the press getting wind of it until he’s in custody, is that understood? Now, go do your thing.”
“Yes, sir.” Coates hung up.
“We have a home and work address listed for him,” Packard said.
There was little he could glean from Elfman’s file. This Danny Elfman had no history. The addresses were about the only details on screen. “Let’s go find this guy.” He wrote them on a piece of paper, picked up his jacket and walked with Packard through the office, into the corridor and up to the lift.
“How do you want to play this?”
Coates checked his watch: 15:35. “How about you take his home and I’ll take his work? Take a couple of uniforms with you.” He read the name of the company Elfman worked for: McGiven, Niall and Sanders, which sounded more like a solicitors’ firm than an insurance company. Located in Brighton, in Regency Square, he wondered if the building would be as lavishly decorated as most solicitors. Elfman’s home was situated in the Seven Dials area.
Out in the car park, Coates said farewell to Packard, got into the driver’s seat of his requisitioned Peugeot and set off on the half-hour drive to Brighton.
Traffic was light to start with and became heavier the closer Coates came to his destination. While driving in silence – he never listened to the radio – he wondered why Peebles had chosen Danny Elfman? What an unusual choice! Coates shrugged it off; he would find out when he apprehended him.
After parking nearby, Coates entered the office to find two uniforms had already sealed off the basement where Danny Elfman a.k.a. Arthur Peebles worked. Elfman’s colleagues had all been ordered out of the office. They stood in small groups in reception, gossiping. He n
oticed how scruffy the area was, which didn’t bode well for the kind of ethos the company had. “Where’re we at?” Coates asked one uniform. “Is Danny Elfman in custody?”
“When we arrived we asked for Elfman, but the receptionist said he left over a week ago, sir. The basement’s sealed off, as requested. The CEO and the suspect’s line manager are waiting on you upstairs on the second floor for an interview.”
As usual, Coates felt the accusatory stares from the staff, who were all murmuring. “Good work, sergeant.” He thanked him and took the lift up. Stepping out of the elevator, he was greeted by a man in his mid-fifties with greying hair. He stood a couple of stones overweight, if his paunch told Coates anything.
“Detective?” The man held his hand out and wore his smile like a professional salesman. “I must thank you for meeting with me finally. It was just awful what happened to Carl.”
Coates, confused, asked, “I’m sorry! Who’s Carl?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here? To ask me questions about Carl Hannigan’s murder?”
He shook his head. “Um, no, I’m afraid that has nothing to do with me, Mr…?” The man took a couple of seconds to identify himself as Mr McGiven, one of the three owners. “I’m not here to discuss that. I’m here to talk to you about Danny Elfman.”
“Oh! Shame,” said the CEO. “Carl was one of my best salesmen. And to die in such horrific circumstances.”
“All right, Mr McGiven, I’m going to bite. How did he die?”
“The officer I spoke to said they found him by the front door of his home,” the owner said, his eyes sad, “with over fifty stab wounds to his face and neck.”
Too similar to the murder Peebles had committed inside, it had to be him. “That’s terrible. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Give me the detective’s name and I’ll confer with him on the case, is that all right with you? I believe Elfman might be responsible.”
“Danny? I don’t think so, detective,” McGiven argued. “If you’d met him, you wouldn’t believe it either. Whoever murdered Carl… He’s a mad man. And Danny Elfman’s far too meek and mild mannered for that. Come! Let’s discuss this in my office.”
A short walk later, Coates sat opposite the CEO in a plush, well-decorated and spacious office, the room unlike the rest of the building, with new carpets, which contrasted with the threadbare ones laid throughout. “Nice room,” he commented.
McGiven ignored him. “You see, the probation service contacted me regarding Danny Elfman about eighteen months ago. They told me that they were relocating him and needed to find him gainful employment. They paid me to take him on at first, until we were certain he would stay the course, at which time we made him a permanent offer.”
“So, would you say he was a decent employee?”
“He was perfect for the job. What you must understand is, the customer service team are responsible for all incoming traffic from clients, and sometimes they take calls from customers wishing to cancel their first premium payments. They might be within their twenty-eight-day cooling off period, for example, and it’s up to the CS representatives to carry out their wishes, which in turn affects the sales team’s bonuses. There can be some animosity between the teams in the basement.”
“Right, and you think Elfman’s perfect for the role because?”
“He takes the abuse. As much as I respected Carl, he could be, how should I put this?” McGiven looked to the ceiling, drumming his fingers on his chin.
“An arsehole? You can say it. I can imagine he gave Elfman some aggro, am I right?” The guy sounded like an arsehole; Coates had met people like Carl before.
“You could say that. But Danny took everything in his stride. Carl made everyone on the customer service team cry at one time or another. All except Danny. He was made for the job, I tell you. And he wouldn’t backchat, or moan. I had a lot of respect for him because of that. The whole sales team seemed to dislike him, detective, not just Carl, but he wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s all very well, Mr McGiven, but the fact remains we have his DNA all over a dead body in Lewes. We found the poor woman in an industrial bin. She was raped, murdered, and then dumped there. We have enough evidence to convict him. All we need is to apprehend him.”
The CEO, shocked, picked up his landline phone and spoke to someone. He hung up and explained that Patrick Jacobs was the best person to speak to: Danny Elfman’s line manager. “He’s downstairs, detective.”
With a handshake, Coates thanked the owner and walked out of the office, along the corridor to the elevator.
41
The room small, inside DI Coates sat opposite Patrick Jacobs, Elfman’s direct line manager, a well-dressed man in a close-fitting suit. “This might come as a shock, but I believe he has murdered a young woman in Lewes. Anything you can tell me about Elfman is appreciated.”
“Really?” Jacobs scratched his head. “Danny?”
“I appreciate that you think he’s this, how did McGiven put it? Oh yeah, ‘meek and mild’ pushover, but I promise you, he’s not. The woman we found dumped in a bin was raped and murdered, Mr Jacobs. And there’s no doubt who’s responsible. He didn’t try all that hard to hide the fact, which means either he’s sloppy, stupid, or he doesn’t care. And the latter bothers me. He made himself a cosy existence in prison.”
“Wait! Danny was in the nick? Before he started here, you mean?”
“Oh yes, you wouldn’t think it to look at the guy, but he’s tough as old boots this one. Which is why I need to find him before he chooses his next victim.”
Jacobs stared into nothing. “He used to sit on his phone looking at pictures of girls on Chatter. He was no harm, really.”
“I assure you, he’s anything but harmless.”
“And you think he might be responsible for Carl as well?”
“Mr McGiven tells me Carl was stabbed multiple times in the face and neck. While in prison, an inmate was found with stab wounds over his face too. And according to the governor, Elfman lived very comfortably thereafter.”
“This is a total head spin. He wouldn’t say or do anything to draw attention to himself. He never spoke unless spoken to. What you’re describing can’t be Danny. He was just a sad and lonely bloke.”
“I heard he had some dealings with Carl?”
“Well, yeah, Carl had a problem with everyone. He was the alpha, in among a group of alphas, do you understand? There are twelve hungry members on the sales team, and they all work hard and play hard. But they looked to him as a leader. They always followed him, and for some reason, Carl took an instant disliking to Danny… I mean, now we’re talking about it, Danny might’ve secretly wanted to hurt him. But Carl wouldn’t be the only one; the whole team bullied him.”
“Bullied him, how?”
“It was all verbal, never physical,” Jacobs explained. “The customer service team sometimes take calls to cancel sales, which affects the team’s bottom-line. The problem is, they’re all bullshitters. You know the type, they’ll say and do anything to get a sale on the board. Unfortunately Carl couldn’t build rapport with his customers to save his life; he loved to tell stories, to bullshit. And that meant he got lots of sales wiped off the board.”
“And that meant aggro for Elfman, right?”
“Right! Anyway, the pods work on an automated dialler, so between calls the sales team amuse themselves.”
“Or give Elfman shit.”
“Right!” Jacobs’ brow furrowed. “I still can’t believe… Danny didn’t react, ever. If I thought the verbal affected him in any way, I might… And now you tell me he’s murdered a girl in Lewes, and possibly butchered Carl?”
“Do you have any idea where he might be?”
Jacobs shook his head. “No! I mean, we talked a bit during our cigarette breaks, but he never spoke about anything personal. The only thing I can think of is he loved Chatter. He used to hide his phone between calls. He thought I couldn’t see him, with his head down.”
“Yes, you mentioned Chatter? What is that?”
“Really? Chatter’s a social media app, along the same lines as Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Danny used it constantly. When he did speak, he would always talk about Georgina Shaw.”
“I’m sorry! Who?” By the incredulous expression on Jacobs’ face, Coates knew he should have had an idea who she was.
“What rock have you been hiding under?” Jacobs almost laughed. “She’s a famous Aussie surfer and model. Going out with Shane Daley?”
“Nope, sorry!”
“Shane Daley’s the captain of the Sydney Swans, the Aussie Rules team. Between the two of them, they’re mega celebrities. Georgina Shaw has a couple of million followers on Chatter, and she takes part in the WSL Championships every year. Danny’s obsessed with her, always scrolling through her photos.”
All very interesting, except it didn’t help. “If you can think of anything that might help me find him, I would appreciate any input. Anything else at all?”
“I’m sorry! I spoke to him more than anyone else here, but I can’t. He lives nearby, the Seven Dials area, I think. Apart from that, I don’t think he had a busy social life. Like I said, he was a pretty sad, lonely guy.”
Coates thought he had achieved all he could with Jacobs. “Thank you for your time.” He asked his interviewee to send in the next member of the sales team. The manager left the room. While waiting, he picked up his mobile and dialled Packard’s number. “Yeah, how’re you getting on?”
“We’re in,” his partner replied. “Everything’s in its place. He left a load of clothes behind, his laptop, passport, everything. He’s done a bunk, although you would be forgiven for thinking otherwise.”
“How do you know he isn’t still there?”
“His post is building up. It seems he took off in a hurry. But he’s not going to get far without his passport, is he?”
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