The Career Killer

by Ali Gunn

  ‘Sounds like he’s drifted,’ Stryker said. ‘How’s he managed to live off that sort of money?’

  ‘He doesn’t,’ Robertson said. ‘He’s always in my pocket now that Mum and Dad are gone. Good job I earn well! You’d think I was the older one the way he goes on about supporting the family. He’s thirty-four and still hasn’t got a proper job.’

  ‘That must be frustrating. What’s also got to hurt is having a criminal for a brother especially when you’ve got such similar names.’

  From the derision evident on Robertson’s face, Stryker knew he’d overstepped the mark. It was one thing to listen to a man rant about his family, another thing entirely to join in with the insults.

  ‘Woah, woah, woah,’ Robertson said. ‘He hasn’t been convicted of a crime yet.’

  ‘Yet,’ Stryker agreed. ‘But I imagine if someone were to Google “J Robertson” and find a crime report, it’d be pretty damaging for your businesses.’

  His eyes flashed angrily. ‘You’re in dangerous territory, inspector. Don’t you dare threaten me.’

  Stryker gave a languorous shrug. ‘No threats, Mr J Robertson, merely an observation. Perhaps you and I can work together to prevent that sort of confusion. Tell me what it was that James did ”last time”.’

  ‘He’s a thief, okay?’ Robertson said. ‘He’s been pinching things for years. I can’t control his kleptomania any more than he can.’

  ‘But you can cover it up,’ Stryker said, filling in the blanks.

  Robertson swore. ‘I’m not admitting to that.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to. Can I assume though, for the sake of this discussion only, that your brother has somehow avoided entanglement with the law?’

  The solicitor hesitated and then gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  That explained how James Robertson had managed to avoid being in the system. He’d never had a record because his brother had always bailed him out. It also explained why Dr Leigh was so surprised that the Lady Killer had managed to escalate so quickly from having no record to full-blown murder. Most criminals started out small and grew over time as they got their sea legs. The police might have noticed as James followed the same pattern of escalating criminality had his brother had somehow hidden it.

  ‘It’s more serious than theft,’ Stryker said flatly.

  ‘I’m not following.’

  ‘Your brother is wanted in connection with a murder inquiry.’

  Stryker’s dramatic pronouncement didn’t faze Robertson in the slightest. The shocked expression which he had now assumed took him far too long to conjure.

  ‘You knew,’ Stryker said quietly. The accusation lingered in the air. Robertson knew or strongly suspected his brother’s involvement. He wasn’t even angry. If Stryker had been accused of being related to a murderer, well, he’d probably have laughed at the absurdity of it all. To be so damned calm in the face of a murder accusation was unnerving. It made Stryker wonder if the man in front of him also harboured dark and violent fantasies.

  ‘No,’ Robertson said firmly. ‘I didn’t know a thing, and frankly, I don’t believe you. This interview is over. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.’

  ‘It’s an interview now?’ Stryker mocked. ‘I thought we were having a friendly chit-chat. Where’s the car, Josh?’

  ‘I said leave,’ Robertson demanded. ‘And don’t come back.’

  ‘I shan’t,’ Stryker said and then mentally added: without a warrant.

  What he would do is have Robertson watched like a hawk in case he got in contact with his brother.

  Chapter 56: The Aspiring Billionaire

  Knox and Elsie had come to New Pinnacle Plaza, the latest super skyscraper to pop up in Mayfair. It was home to Mr Adelrick Melrose, the brainchild of the StayAway site that Mr Larkins used. He was the same Mr Melrose who had foisted Review My Ex upon the world and who had been as evasive as possible when Elsie had visited him in Old Street.

  Yesterday’s visit to the American had gone terribly because she’d gone in blind with no warrant, no plan. This time, she came prepared.

  A white-gloved footman was in the lobby when they arrived. He tried to stop them making a beeline for the lift to the penthouse but soon acquiesced when Elsie flashed her warrant card. Given the lack of protest, it was fair to assume that Adelrick hadn’t made himself popular with the domestic help.

  ‘Swish lift,’ Knox said, looking around. The lift, which was on the western side of New Pinnacle Plaza, ran up the outside of the building offering sweeping views of the south, west and north through floor-to-ceiling windows. The building was in the perfect spot. To the south, Elsie could see Green Park and Buckingham Palace. To the west, Hyde Park and Holland Park beyond that. To the north, Regent’s Park and Primrose Hill.

  ‘I heard a flat in this building costs over half a billion. That’s billion with a b,’ Elsie said as they ascended so smoothly that it didn’t feel like they were moving at all. ‘And Adelrick Melrose has got the penthouse.’

  ‘Nobody makes that sort of wonga without stepping on a few toes,’ Knox said. ‘Bet he don’t sleep too well no matter how many silk pillows he lays his head on.’

  From her last encounter with him, Elsie doubted that Adelrick had any moral qualms. He seemed only too happy to take his money and laugh all the way to the bank.

  He was waiting for them when the lift doors pinged open.

  ‘Detective, how nice of you to visit,’ Adelrick said. ‘To what do I owe the displeasure this time? Come to serve me with a pointless warrant?’

  ‘No,’ Elsie said firmly. ‘We just want to chat. This is my colleague, Detective Sergeant Knox. Nice place you’ve got here.’

  It was. The ceilings were double height while all-glass walls ran from floor to ceiling which made the enormous space feel even bigger. Because it was open plan except for a few glass-walls which divided up the living room and the kitchen, Elsie could see the London skyline in every direction. It was like being on the viewing deck at the Shard except there were no tourists and exquisite, minimalist furniture filled the apartment. The sheer volume of empty space was testimony to Adelrick’s wealth. Where Elsie’s own flat was crammed with storage solutions in every nook and cranny to make use of all the available space, Adelrick’s home was vast and cavernous in the manner usually reserved for stately homes out in the countryside.

  Adelrick looked at her curiously. ‘Would you care for a tour as we “chat”, detectives?’

  If it got him talking, there was no harm in having a nose around. She gestured for him to lead on.

  ‘Been here long?’ Knox asked. ‘It don’t looked lived in, see.’

  ‘It shouldn’t,’ Adelrick said. ‘I redecorate every other month. I like my home to change with the seasons. When Hyde Park turns icy and desolate, I make the flat warm and inviting. When it’s spring out and I see the bluebells appearing like magic all over St James’ Park, I like to opt for cool, neutral tones that don’t detract from what’s around me. In fall, when leaves tumble to the ground, I like reds and oranges to match. But you didn’t come here to admire my interior design skills.’

  ‘I’m here about StayAway.’

  ‘Ah, you are all over my business interests this week, detective,’ Adelrick said as he walked them through the living room. ‘What precisely do you want?’

  ‘I need a list of where one of your clients has stayed over the last year. He’s wanted in connection with a murder inquiry.’

  ‘Got a warrant?’ Adelrick taunted. He knew the answer.

  ‘No, but I can get one,’ Elsie said. ‘I thought I’d give you the professional courtesy of asking nicely first.’ And save myself the time and risk of going to court.

  He laughed. It was a derisive, nasty sound. ‘I’m going to have to call your bluff, detective. But thanks for dropping by.’

  There was no mention of the “end to end encryption” that he’d used for Review My Ex. This time a warrant would get them the right information. If only th
ey had time.

  Knox plonked herself down on a nearby sofa which faced out to the west. ‘I think what my boss means, pretty boy, is that we’re doing you a favour. We know you’ve got a stock market float coming up, don’t we, boss? Wouldn’t it be a shame if the media heard that poor Adelrick here had been arrested for obstructing a murder inquiry just when he was due to ring the opening bell?’

  Adelrick’s face dropped. ‘That’s blackmail!’

  His outrage elicited a nod from Knox. ‘Effective too in my mind. Two major companies, one billionaire arsehole. Bound to make the front page, ain’t it? Can’t see this going too well for you. I’ve got every major newspaper editor in my phone book. Want to risk it?’

  Elsie tried not to mirror the smile spreading across Knox’s face. ‘It would be very helpful if you cooperated with us, Mr Melrose. Let’s not get into allegations of wrongdoing here. We’re all sensible adults, aren’t we?’

  He paced the room, one hand in his pocket as if he were fishing for a mobile phone with which to call his lawyers. Knox continued to smile at him.

  Finally, he stopped and turned to Elsie. ‘If, and I mean if, I give you what you want, you’ll keep my involvement totally confidential? No leaks to the press, no accidentally telling the information commissioner’s office, nada.’

  ‘I think we could manage that,’ Elsie said carefully to avoid saying that she would do so, just an assertion that she could do so if she so chose. The subtlety was lost on a now-mollified Adelrick.

  ‘And no arrest?’

  ‘No arrests,’ Elsie said, unable to avoid a direct reply this time. Not that she could bind herself with such an outrageous promise.

  ‘What’s the name?’

  ‘James Robertson. I’ve got his profile link so we can find the right James.’

  ‘Give me half an hour, I’ll make some calls.’

  Chapter 57: The List

  Half an hour later they had the list. Elsie and Knox left New Pinnacle Plaza with a printed copy in hand and a digital version in Elsie’s email inbox. On the way out, she flicked through eight pages of printouts detailing everywhere that James Robertson had stayed. He’d been a busy boy. He’d organised several dozen stays via StayAway and it was entirely possible that he’d used other websites too.

  Knox drove on the way back to New Scotland Yard. For the first time since Elsie had met the older woman, she finally felt like they could have a conversation. The list shook in Elsie’s hand as they drove over a pothole. Until they had a chance to assess it properly, there wasn’t much to be gained in obsessing over it. The office was a smidge under two miles away but in traffic, it would take them just over fifteen minutes. With a bit of luck, Stryker, Ian, Annie and Uncle Bertie would be waiting for their arrival in the incident room. Elsie had also put out a general call for assistance to everyone who’d previously volunteered to help with the investigation. She could imagine conference room one filling up once again with the Met’s finest, all eager to assist.

  ‘Knox,’ Elsie said tentatively, the elephant in the car looming large. ‘When you said you deserved to have got my job... why was that?’

  The question elicited a sigh. For a moment, Elsie thought Knox was about to be combative once again, that the breakthrough of the day was temporary, but then Knox did something that Elsie recognised as one of her own bad habits – she chewed over the edge of her bottom lip with her front incisors.

  ‘I haven’t told anyone this.’

  ‘You can tell me – as long as it isn’t illegal, I’ll keep it to myself.’

  ‘It ain’t illegal. You prob know this but I started with the force when I was eighteen,’ Knox said, her hands still perfectly steady at ten and two. ‘I worked well hard for the first few years and I earned my place on Fairbanks’ murder investigation team..’

  ‘I saw.’ Elsie had been given Knox’s service record. Until only a short while ago, it had been exemplary. ‘Are the rumours true?’

  ‘The “I’m a lush” rumours?’ Knox said, her eyes still fixed on the road. ‘I guess a bit. I like a drink every now and then. It’s a hard job. But the booze isn’t why I got demoted if that’s what yer getting at.’

  ‘Then why were you demoted?’

  ‘I changed my mind.’

  If Elsie had been curious before, she was the proverbial cat walking headfirst into traffic now. ‘About...?’

  ‘About fucking Fairbanks.’

  ‘What did he do?’

  ‘This is still between us, right?’ Knox said. ‘Swear it on your old man’s life?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘That’s closer to the truth than you might like,’ Knox said darkly. ‘I was ... well... I made a mistake. Once. I drank too much at the Met’s Christmas shindig, one thing led to another and...’

  Elsie put two and two together. ‘Yuck!’ she pulled a face. ‘Fairbanks?!’

  ‘Yep,’ Knox said. ‘One drunken blowie last Xmas. I was feeling sorry for myself – my husband died at Xmas a few years back – and he offered me a bit of affection. Part of me craved it.’

  ‘And that’s why he fired you?’

  ‘Nah,’ Knox said. ‘Like I said before. I changed my mind. He kept pestering, said if I fucked him, he’d give me the recommendation I needed to make DCI. Until the day before you got offered it, I was a shoo-in. When I didn’t follow through, he trumped up misconduct charges and said that if I disputed it, he’d tell the whole fucking force about Christmas.’

  No wonder she’d been raw the first time they met. She’d been sextorted and blackmailed by the slimiest man either of them had ever met. ‘Knox... I’m so sorry.’

  There was a tear forming at the corner of Knox’s eye. ‘Look, we’re almost back. Don’t tell anyone else this, ‘kay?’

  After another two minutes, this time in silence, Knox parked up in Mabey’s spot and threw her the keys. ‘Come on, boss. Time to catch a killer and get justice for Matthews.’

  AS ELSIE HAD HOPED, the whole team was on-site and waiting in the incident room. A large pot of coffee was on a warming mat, steam gently rising off of it. When he saw her looking, Stryker poured her a mug and then went back to whatever he had been doing. She was half-asleep and her head felt like someone had thwacked it with a sledgehammer. Shame the caffeine didn’t actually help with the chronic fatigue. She didn’t have the heart to tell Stryker that as it was nice of him to try.

  Everybody rushed to sit down when Elsie did except for Bertie who had already assumed the seat nearest the door. He was deep in thought, his eyes peering over the top of his glasses which were perched on the very end of his nose. It appeared that he had been reviewing pages upon pages of his own handwritten notes.

  To his left, Ian and Annie sat side by side looking like chalk and cheese with a sharp contrast between Annie’s powder blue power suit and Ian’s heavy metal T-shirt. Stryker now sat alone staring at the screen as Flick’s e-fit of the killer loomed large on the projector.

  ‘Is that our man?’ Elsie said. He looked less dangerous than she had expected. She had imagined the sort of man who could kill with a single stab wound would be scary, shaven-headed, perhaps even ex-military. The man Flick had sketched looked more like a gym rat facing down a mid-life crisis with a slightly hooked nose – it had to have been broken at least once, but not in a charming Owen Wilson way – which combined with an off-kilter eye to make his face look decidedly unbalanced.

  ‘It’s him,’ Stryker confirmed.

  ‘I have,’ Elsie said, ‘attained a list of everywhere that our killer has rented using the StayAway website. Ian, I emailed it to you before I got here. Any patterns showing up for you?’

  He nodded, gulped, and raised a hand.

  ‘You don’t need permission to speak, Ian.’

  ‘Right... right... can I borrow that projector please, Seb?’ Ian asked. ‘Sorry, Detective Inspector Stryker.’

  Stryker grinned, unplugged the HDMI cable plugged into his laptop and passed it over.

  ‘I to
ok your list, looked ’em up on Google Maps. First up, he’s picked nice places. We’re talking big townhouses, luxury flats, the kind of places that rich people live in.’

  ‘How’s he affording that?’ Stryker asked.

  ‘Easy, he’s a thief,’ Ian said. ‘Not all but many of these places have been subject to police complaints over the last eight months. Guests who stayed in these rentals invariably found that their stuff disappeared while they were out. It’s usually really common stuff such as jewellery, mobile phones, laptops, passports, cash, cards and the like. Things a thief can get rid of without being noticed. The common denominator is really obvious when you spot it. No thefts before James Robertson rented the place, lots of thefts after.’

  It was such an obvious scam – find where rich people live, get access once and make a copy of the key to make it easy to return later. ‘He’s been copying keys,’ Elsie said to a murmur of assent.

  ‘Yep,’ Ian said. ‘Probably. He’s also smart. The places he’s robbed have crap security. I had a look on Google Maps, zoomed in on Street View to check out the frontage, and the ones where thefts have occurred don’t show any obvious signs of CCTV cameras or other security. I reckon he’s been using his StayAway bookings to scope the places out.’

  Elsie swore. It was so out of character that it elicited a “young lady!” from Uncle Bertie who, until just then, had been quietly nursing a mug of coffee.

  ‘Don’t you lot see it?’ Elsie said. ‘He’s not just been renting these places to steal – the money is secondary. He’s been using these homes to lure women to their deaths. Who would suspect that he’s dangerous when he takes women to Michelin-standard restaurants, drives an Audi A8 – any news on that by the way? – and takes them home to multi-million-pound townhouses?’

  ‘About the car,’ Ian said, ‘it’s registered alright but to someone else. Looks like a corporate lease. Can I ask you detective types a question though? About the website?’