[Kitt Hartley 05] - A Witch Hunt in Whitby

by Helen Cox

  Grace rifled through the pile of cuttings, picking out relevant articles. Kitt examined each clipping in turn. ‘Yes, see, here he is again,’ she said, handing over a clipping from the Middlesbrough crime scene. ‘And here. This bloke’s been at all three crime scenes taking photos – or maybe even video footage.’

  ‘Couldn’t he just be a journalist for a local paper?’ said Grace.

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Kitt. ‘Photographs on your phone aren’t usually high res enough for the local paper – even if they’re only being posted online,’ said Kitt. ‘Maybe they’d post a photo from a person’s phone who happened to be at the scene when they weren’t, but I’d expect a legitimate journalist making a special trip to report from the crime scene to have better kit than that.’

  ‘I don’t know so much with the budget cuts at most newspapers and magazines, but I suppose there’s a chance you’re right and, just now, we can’t afford to turn down any lead,’ said Grace. ‘If he isn’t a journalist, then it is a bit suspicious. It’s unlikely a casual bystander would just happen to be passing all three crime scenes given the distance between them.’

  ‘Highly unlikely,’ said Kitt, staring harder at the man in the photograph. He was taller than most other people in the crowd and had long, mousey brown hair tucked behind his ears. ‘If you ask me, we’ve just found our first suspect.’

  Three

  Meet me at our bridge. Let me know when you’re en route.

  That’s what the text message from Halloran had said. Kitt had only noticed it when she’d checked her phone just before leaving the agency and had at once set off in the direction of Skeldergate Bridge.

  That was their bridge.

  It had been designed by Thomas Page, who had also designed Westminster Bridge, and with its gothic arches, and its proximity to the library in which she worked, it held a special place in her heart. Her admiration for the bridge had only become more profound after Halloran had pressed her against its sturdy stonework and kissed her for the first time. Next to that bridge, she had realized that Halloran was a man she could easily fall in love with, if only she’d let herself. A possibility that, at the time, she had long since dismissed.

  When she’d first read the message, she hadn’t been sure whether Halloran’s request to meet somewhere other than the cottage they now shared on Ouse View Avenue was a good sign or a bad sign. As Kitt descended the last few steps down to the river path, however, and noticed Halloran waiting for her with a small smile part hidden behind his beard, she knew.

  Her breath deepened as she approached him. He had that glint in his eyes that she knew so well. The glint that meant it wouldn’t be long before his lips were on hers.

  When she was just a pace away he slowly backed her against the stonework of the bridge, just as he had the first time they had kissed.

  ‘I’m sorry for overreacting, pet,’ Halloran said, brushing a strand of Kitt’s red hair out of her face. ‘The last thing I want is for you to feel reined in.’

  He pulled his face an inch back from hers. Just far enough to see her knowingly raising her eyebrows.

  ‘Well, you know, not in that way.’

  Kitt put her hand to the side of his head and ran it through his hair. It had come later than she had hoped it would but he had apologized. His willingness to say sorry always humbled her. It seemed to be a dying quality these days – everyone was always so adamant they were right all the time. But when you loved a person, as Kitt and Halloran loved each other, being right seemed less important. Certainly, less important than being together.

  ‘I understand why you reacted the way you did,’ she said, enjoying the way the warmth of his breath was warding off the late night chill. ‘But I didn’t take the case to hurt you or make you worry. I need to work this one. This is Ruby’s life we’re talking about.’

  ‘I know,’ Halloran said. ‘I’ve had time to think and the loyalty you show to your friends is one of the things I love most about you. Besides, I can’t pretend I’d do any different in your shoes.’

  ‘I’m glad you understand,’ said Kitt. ‘And, who knows? I may uncover some clues that are helpful to your investigation along the way.’

  ‘The official line, as always, is that the police do not work with private investigators but, if I’m honest, we’re going to need all the help we can get if we’re going to bring this person to justice. This isn’t about sides. People like this, sometimes they commit a few murders and then go underground for years before killing again, only to disappear for a second time before the authorities catch up with them. As well as saving Ruby’s life, we need to look at this as an operation to save all the future lives the murderer might take if they continue to elude us. There’s never been so much pressure from the top.’

  ‘I suppose it’s not surprising that they’re pretty desperate to see the killer locked away given the general note of terror they’re striking across the county.’

  ‘No, but sadly I think it’s more about pressures from local councils than it is about stopping the bloodshed.’

  ‘Because of the impact it’s having on local businesses?’

  ‘Aye. We’re into the Easter holiday season which, among other regional events, includes a vintage fair at Scarborough and the Whitby goth weekend. Only, people aren’t visiting the area, at least not in anywhere near the usual numbers. The coastal councils are complaining that local tourism is significantly down because this killer’s still at large after three months.’

  ‘It’s a bit strange, isn’t it? When the killer, so far as we know, only targets pre-selected victims. Everyone’s still so wary.’

  ‘Not everyone thinks of a killer in terms of their MO. You and me are trained to but to most folk living around here, they just think about the fact that there’s someone out there with the capacity to kill, and that’s enough to scare them off. Can’t say I blame them either.’

  ‘Does this mean that your lot are actually going to throw a decent amount of police resources at solving this case?’

  ‘As far as they can, but you know how it is right now. Cuts are worse than ever. We have a few more people than usual working on it across the areas that have been targeted but extra help never goes amiss when you’re dealing with an individual like this.’

  ‘So, are you saying that the help of your girlfriend sleuth would actually be appreciated on this case?’

  Halloran tried to stop himself from grinning and Kitt was pleased when he failed. ‘I’m saying that we should keep communicating about the case. That way, I can help you stay safe and we can collectively pursue more avenues to try and bring the investigation to the best possible conclusion. But we’ll have to be discreet. You know what happens if Ricci finds out what I’ve shared with you over the years on the handful of cases you’ve helped me with.’

  ‘How could I forget? You remind me every time,’ Kitt said with mock scorn.

  ‘I know, it’s almost as if holding on to my badge is important to me, eh?’

  Kitt chuckled, but understood Halloran’s concern. Chief Superintendent Sofia Ricci had turned a blind eye here and there over the time she’d been leading the police force in York but there were some breaches she wouldn’t be able to ignore if she ever found out about them. ‘I shouldn’t worry, DI Halloran, I came across a very important piece of information just before leaving the office and will no doubt have the entire case all wrapped up before tomorrow teatime. You’ll hardly have to lift a finger.’

  ‘Oh really? Don’t bet on it. I also came across some very important information before I left the nick – information that could be crucial to closing the case.’

  Kitt eyed Halloran for a moment. ‘Want to trade?’

  ‘I don’t know . . .’ Halloran feigned a conspiratorial look over both of his shoulders, as though anyone would be walking around Skeldergate at one o’clock on a weekday morning.

/>   ‘Give over, you daft thing,’ Kitt said, tapping him on the chest.

  ‘All right, ladies first.’

  ‘Grace and I have been examining news coverage of the crime scenes at Middlesbrough, Scarborough and Malton. Compiling names, locations, times and dates, standard stuff. But as we were searching through them, we found some clippings that show the same bloke hanging around in the background at all three locations. I think he’s filming the investigation.’

  ‘Not a journalist?’

  ‘Not by the look of his equipment.’

  ‘Interesting. We’ll definitely need to check that out. It’s quite common for serial killers of this kind to revisit the crime scene. They like the idea that they’re clever enough to be that bold but stay under the radar.’

  ‘From what I understand, they also get a sick pleasure out of witnessing the grief and chaos they’ve caused.’ Kitt suppressed a shiver. Wasn’t it bad enough that people felt entitled to take the life of another in such a callous manner without openly revelling in it?

  ‘Aye, that too,’ Halloran said with a nod. ‘If you send me the pictures I might be able to help track him down. If not, we can put out a call to the public for information. We’ll be interested to know what business he’s got at all three crime scenes if he isn’t a member of the press.’

  ‘Yes, coming to the case this far in might actually give us a better chance of solving it. If the killer is starting to get bold or arrogant, they’re likely to slip up.’

  ‘Agreed, here’s hoping they’re feeling a bit too pleased with themselves just now. That’s often what happens after the third murder mark. It’s what moves them into serial status, really – they’re no longer a double murderer. When it gets to this stage it’s clear they’ve got intentions to keep going until they’re stopped.’

  ‘And I intend to be the one who stops them, or at least part of the team. On that note, what crucial piece of information did you find?’

  ‘An inordinate number of Ruby’s neighbours have home CCTV systems installed.’

  ‘Bloody busybodies,’ said Kitt.

  ‘I think it might have more to do with living close to someone as eccentric as Ruby, to be honest. Not everyone sees her as harmless, you know; some people still think witchcraft is about devil worship.’

  ‘Then remind me to recommend several important texts on the subject to Ruby’s neighbours next time we’re passing.’

  ‘Like you’d ever need a reminder to do that,’ Halloran said, and continued before Kitt could interject any further. Likely because he knew she’d happily steer the conversation onto books given even the slightest opportunity. ‘One of the cameras is positioned almost opposite Ruby’s front door.’

  ‘Mal!’ Kitt said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘Did you catch the killer on camera? That could be a real breakthrough. There hasn’t been any footage before.’

  ‘That’s because the killer tends to pick residential backstreets where there aren’t usually any cameras. But yes, we did manage to find some footage of, judging by how broad they were, a man, just before dusk this evening, painting the V on the door.’

  ‘How come none of the neighbours saw him?’

  ‘It took him less than five seconds to do it. He used a can of spray paint and a V is hardly an intricate design. As soon as the mark was in place, he was off like a shot.’

  ‘Tell me you got his face on camera? If you did, we could compare it to the man Grace and I found.’

  ‘Not his face, I’m afraid. He was wearing a thick black hoodie.’

  ‘Hm,’ said Kitt. ‘We’re still not sure what the V mark even means, are we? I know the media have jumped on the idea that it stands for vampire because of the marks on the victims’ necks, but we don’t really know why the killer has chosen that particular marking.’

  ‘The teams we’ve got working on the case are all still speculating on that,’ said Halloran. ‘There’s not much else that the letter V points to. Victory is the most likely idea we’ve come up with, assuming that the killer sees his acts as some kind of war on people associated with the occult. If it’s not that or the vampire angle, the odds are the V relates to something personal. A first or last initial perhaps?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Kitt. ‘I’ve done a bit of research into it as a symbol this afternoon and like you say, there’s not much to it, especially when it comes to links with mysticism and the occult. Apparently, the V shape, or a downward pointing chevron, can symbolise the planet, and goddess, Venus, but I’m not sure if that’s really a likely interpretation. Your theory about the V relating to something personal is probably a surer bet. Were there no other distinguishing features of the person you caught on video?’

  ‘The hoodie he was wearing had a white pentagram printed on the back but that was the only distinguishing mark.’

  ‘Hmm. Was the top of the star pointing up or down?’

  ‘Um . . . down, I think. Why? Is that important?’

  ‘Not necessarily historically but in a modern context, a pentagram pointed up is more likely to suggest pagan beliefs. A pentagram pointed down is more associated with satanism.’

  ‘So, if I’ve remembered right, our killer could be part of some kind of satanic cult or organization?’

  ‘It’s possible but not certain. Such people are known for practising their belief system alone. But some of them do join organizations and it would be a break if they were part of something like that. It might make it easier to track them down, so with little else to go on at this stage it’s definitely worth drawing up a list of organizations and reaching out to them, at the very least.’

  ‘We’ll make that a priority tomorrow. Given the fact the victims have all had some link with the occult, we assumed the killer was more likely to disapprove of that kind of practice. But maybe we were wrong, maybe there is a rogue member of one of these organizations out there and they’ve taken their beliefs to a very dark place.’

  ‘It’s certainly a possibility. We’ll make our own list and make sure we share it with you in case we’ve missed any between us. You’re sure there were no other distinguishing features of the vandal?’

  ‘No, he was just dressed in black. Clearly trying to stay inconspicuous. And, of course, we don’t know for sure that whoever was caught on video is the person committing the killings. Given the MO and how it compares with similar cases, we’ve been working on the principle that the killer is male, but he might get a stooge to paint the symbols, in case they get caught. Or there is a possibility that it’s not the real killer at all, but a copycat.’

  ‘With so little time, we can’t afford to entertain that possibility, can we?’

  ‘We need to treat it like it’s for real in terms of the investigation, but we must also remain open to other pieces of evidence that might come from other sources. Such as your man in the photographs. Perhaps he is the real killer, and not the man who spray painted a V on Ruby’s door. Or perhaps they’re working together. We won’t know until we do more digging.’

  ‘Well, I look forward to taking a look at the footage you uncovered from Ruby’s neighbours for myself and seeing if I can glean anything from it.’

  ‘What? I never said you could—’

  ‘I’m handing over my evidence to you, it’s only fair, and remember you said we needed to do all we can to try and catch this guy.’

  ‘I knew it was only a matter of time before those words came back to haunt me,’ Halloran said, pushing his forehead against hers.

  ‘I missed you, Mal.’ She knew it was a silly thing to say when they’d only been apart a few hours but whenever they had disagreements she felt much further away from him somehow. It was always such a relief to hold him close again. ‘And for what it’s worth, I both want and need you.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, interlocking her fingers with his and slowly lifting them above her head, pin
ning them against the bridge. ‘I missed you too.’

  Her breath quickened as he leaned in and kissed his way down the side of her cheek, down beyond her chin to her neck.

  ‘Mal . . .’ she whispered up to the sky as his beard tickled against her skin and he worked his way upwards again until their mouths, at last, met. He tasted of bitter late-night coffee but, as his well-practised tongue circled her own, she didn’t care. No matter how many kisses they shared, he would always find some new way of stirring her. This time, it was the way his hands gently cupped her curves, squeezing in just the right places to remind her of all he was capable of behind closed doors.

  ‘Take me home, Mal,’ she whispered.

  She didn’t have to ask him twice.

  Four

  As Kitt was working the late shift at the library the next day and it was simply too bright and sunny to be cooped up in an office, she arranged a morning meeting with Grace at Museum Gardens. There, the daffodils were in full bloom, the scent of freshly cut grass hung on the air and the river Ouse twinkled on the periphery. It was a soothing place. Perfect for setting out all the facts of the case. Though ordinarily Kitt would insist on making the most of the office space they rented, there wasn’t a great deal of natural light there and this case was darker than any they had dealt with before. Thus, she welcomed anything that took the edge off the alarming details they would need to discuss. Moreover, the fresh air would surely keep them sharp and alert while devising their preliminary theories about the killer, their motives and their movements.

  Evie had also invited herself along to the meeting as she didn’t have any clients to massage at the salon until later in the afternoon. Even though Kitt had warned her that the agenda was purely shop talk, she had insisted on coming along since they hadn’t had a chance to catch up all the week before and, in truth, it was rare for the pair to ever be apart for too long.