by Rob Ashman
‘I know, I know.’
‘You had better start from the beginning.’
Millican stared down at the desk, plucking up the courage to betray a Brother. ‘I contacted him using a closed Facebook group, there is only me and him in it since the other guy died. I told him we needed to talk.’
‘Where did you meet him and what did he say?’
‘We met under the Central Pier. He was very agitated and said he was on a mission to right the wrongs in the justice system. He is fixated by people getting off with crimes they should be sent to prison for. He said he was on a mission.’
‘Did he use the word mission?’
‘Yes he did. He told me there was more to come, the mission wasn’t over. I pushed him hard to hand himself over.’
‘Is that when he attacked you?’
‘How do you …’ he asked.
Kray ran her thumb across her throat describing the red line visible on Millican’s neck. He nodded, running a finger along it.
‘Did he give any indication who was next on his list?’
‘No, he talked about people getting away with killing others, getting away with sexually abusing kids, threatening and stealing. He was banging on about how we all live in a house where the rules were different, he wasn’t making much sense.’
‘Was he on foot or did he have transport?’
‘I don’t know, he walked away and left me under the pier. It was dark and I didn’t see where he went.’
‘What was he wearing?’
‘Combat gear.’
‘How did you leave it?’
Millican put his hand up to his forehead. ‘He said if I got in his way again, he’d kill me.’
‘Wait, what did you say about sexually abusing kids?’
‘That’s what he told me. He said people were sexually abusing kids and getting away with it.’
‘Shit,’ Kray spat the word into the air. ‘You wait here, we will need to do a thorough debrief.’
‘Where are you going?’
Kray didn’t answer, she simply bolted for the door.
‘Her name is Alice Fox, she is the only one on the list who is a convicted sex offender. It has to be her, we have an officer posted outside her house.’
‘On my way,’ said Bagley, still in bed squinting at the illuminated digits on the clock.
Kray sped out of the station car park.
‘Can you patch me through to the officer outside one-four-four Meadow Drive. It’s urgent,’ she said to the operator, the line went dead as he made the connections. By the sound of it, the call woke up PC Reynolds.
‘PC Reynolds.’
‘This is DI Kray, do you have eyes on the Fox house?’
‘Yes, ma’am, the place is still in darkness, she said she wouldn’t be getting up until around 7.30am.’
‘Are you looking at the front?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you checked the back?’
‘No, ma’am, I can check it now. Is there a problem?’
‘Bang on the front door and wake her up.’
‘Okay, is there a problem?’
‘I’m not sure, call me back.’ Kray gunned the engine and tore through town. Moments later PC Reynolds was on the phone.
‘No response, ma’am, I will go around the back.’
‘I’m on my way.’
The line went dead.
Kray skidded to a halt, double parking next to the police car. She leapt out and ran to the front door, hammering on the wooden frame. She hammered again. Reynolds opened the door, every ounce of colour drained from his face. Kray shoved past him and ran up the stairs. The bedroom door was open. She burst inside.
Alice Fox was lying face down, spread-eagled on the bed with her limbs pointing to each of the four corners. Her naked body shone translucent white against the gloom. The pillows, quilt and under sheet lay in a heap against the far wall.
Kray flicked on the light and clasped her hand to her mouth. The bottom half of the bed was awash with blood, pooling into the recesses of the mattress and onto the floor. The handle of a hunting knife protruded from between her legs.
Chapter 39
‘You’re in a fucking what?’ Bagley was leaning over with his hands on the desk. He was so close Kray could feel specks of saliva landing on her face.
‘You heard me.’ She pulled away.
‘A relationship? You’re in a relationship with Doctor Christopher Millican?’
‘That’s right, we’ve seen each other a couple of times.’
‘I don’t believe this. Quade is upstairs with the Chief talking reputational damage, and you’re telling me your boyfriend has a hotline to a fucking serial killer.’
‘It’s not like that.’
‘Which part? The bit about him being your boyfriend or the one about him having our murder suspect on bloody speed dial? Which part is it?’
‘It came as just as much of a shock to me.’
‘Have you arrested Millican?’
‘On what charge? Being a dick? Christ if we did that half the people in the station would be in custody. He saw the appeal, asked Jarrod outright and came to us with the response, he is under no obligation to do anything else.’
‘Maybe not, but he is a Home Office Pathologist who has been up close and personal with Jarrod’s victims. So excuse me but I would have expected him to act differently to Jo Public.’
‘He did what he thought was right.’
‘And how does he contact Jarrod? Through some bloody Facebook group? What do they call themselves, ‘Serial Killers R Us’?’
‘Now who’s being a dick? They had set up the group as a way for them to keep in contact. Jarrod’s team leader, a guy named Jono, was the instigator, he’s dead now so it’s just Millican and Jarrod.’
Bagley sat down and bunched both fists under his chin. ‘Did you know?’
‘Of course I didn’t know.’ It was Kray’s turn to explode onto her feet. ‘He was at my house, saw the news item and left. Then he turned up here early this morning and told me everything. Until he saw Jarrod’s mug on the TV, he had no idea. And I believe him. Don’t you insinuate that I have been colluding with him on this.’
‘It’s not me saying that, but it will be every bugger else. We will have a hard enough time explaining how a woman under police protection gets murdered in her bed, let alone that the DI working the case happens to have a boyfriend who is best mates with the man who did it. Fucking hell, the way this is shaping up, we’re all gonna wind up on Jeremy Kyle. When the IPCC and Internal Investigations Team get hold of this our collective bollocks will be well and truly in the vice.’
Kray was about to correct his anatomical error but thought better of it
‘How is he?’ asked Bagley.
‘Who?’
‘Millican, how is Millican?’
‘Not good, as you can imagine. He blames himself for the death of Alice Fox.’
‘That’s understandable but he didn’t kill her, Jarrod did. What have you got there?’
‘It’s the forensics report on the dust found at the flat where Hicks was murdered, you remember, I found residue on the arm chair?’
‘Yes, what of it?’
‘It turns out it was all over the driver’s seat in Jarrod’s car as well. The analysis says it’s a composite of plaster board dust and powdered concrete. They also found it in the footwell of his car along with traces in the carpet at the flat.’
‘So is our guy hiding out at a building site? He hasn’t returned home, we have his car and he has no friends. Well apart from Millican, are you sure he’s—’
‘Jarrod is not staying with Millican. I had the same thought about Jarrod laying low in a building which is undergoing renovation, so I set Tavener to work on it.’ Kray flipped over the page. ‘Looks like there are over five hundred businesses for sale in the Blackpool area. Of those, two thirds of them are being sold as going concerns which leaves one hundred and sixty as unoccupied premises.
There are plenty of examples of developers scooping up failed hotels with the intention of turning them into flats. But they start the work only to find the council planners won’t grant them a change of use certificate, so the work grinds to a halt. You only have to take a walk along the Prom to find huge hotels closed down in various states of repair. Plaster board dust and concrete says to me he’s in a place where construction work has been carried out but it’s now vacant, allowing him to stay there.’
‘He could have worked on a site?’
‘No, sir! He worked across the car park in CJU, that’s where the fucker worked. I think it unlikely he was doing cash in hand jobs, shovelling rubble.’
‘Point taken. What do you propose?’
‘Millican thinks Jarrod was on foot when he met him last night. We make a list of all the unoccupied premises within a five miles radius of town, then look at which ones have had work done on them and target the most likely candidates.’
‘We could do that. Alternatively we could use the Facebook group chat to lure Jarrod out into the open.’
‘That comes with a hell of a risk. Jarrod was clear that if Millican gets in the way again he’s a dead man. Any message we post will put him directly in the firing line.’
‘What if we don’t involve Millican?’
‘How would that work?’
Bagley spent the next ten minutes setting out his plan. The more he spoke, the more enthusiastic he became. When he finished he looked at Kray and said, ‘Well?’
‘That’s a stupid idea!’ Kray replied.
‘That’s a brilliant idea,’ Quade said to both Kray and Bagley as they stood in front of her desk. ‘I like it. I like it a lot.’
‘What do you think, Roz, you’ve spoken to her?’ said Bagley.
‘You know what I think. I hate to be the one to pour cold water on such a brilliant plan but there is too much risk.’
‘Roz, we are up to our necks in shit here and we need a result.’ Quade was pacing. ‘This gives us our best opportunity to flush Jarrod out into the open. I understand the new forensics narrows down where he might be hiding out but there are too many properties to search. It could take weeks.’
Quade’s PA came in with coffees on a tray.
How the other half live, Kray helped herself.
‘Of course we would need to have their full co-operation,’ Quade said spooning sugar into her cup.
‘That goes without saying,’ replied Bagley waiting his turn. ‘I’m sure they will be on board with our proposal.’
‘This is not right. You want to use Millican’s Facebook account to send Jarrod a picture of his ex-girlfriend, Julie Clarke, with a message from her telling him to hand himself in. Is that really what is on offer here? This man is a ruthless killer and you want to put both Clarke and Millican in harm’s way?’
‘We have a direct line to Jarrod and we can use Julie as leverage, he won’t listen to Millican but he might listen to her,’ said Bagley.
‘And what if Jarrod feels betrayed by the two people he trusts most in this world and comes after them?’ Kray said.
‘We will protect them,’ replied Bagley.
‘Like we protected Alice Fox?’ Kray was getting nowhere.
‘That’s enough, Roz, I take your concerns on board but we have to look at all the angles here and Dan has an innovative plan.’
It’s a fucking dangerous plan, that’s what it is.
‘Jarrod must have picked up the message from Millican on a new phone, he wouldn’t risk going to an Internet café.’ Kray couldn’t let it drop. ‘Jarrod can’t be sure how Millican will react, so he will err on the side of caution, and consider that channel of communication to be compromised. In my opinion that phone will be in a bin somewhere. If you send him a message, he won’t receive it.’
‘Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. It has to be worth a shot. It’s better than trawling our resource around every disused property in Blackpool that happens to have some building work going on.’ Bagley refused to let go of his good idea.
Quade and Bagley began to flesh out how to trap Jarrod. Kray picked up a sheaf of paper containing the transcripts of the Facebook posts. It ran to five pages. In the early days there was a lot of chatter about how Jono was recovering and how Jarrod was having to change his medication. Millican had played a key role in keeping both men on an even keel, seeing Jarrod regularly to check his progress. When Jarrod started to go downhill with PTSD Millican tried hard to get him to seek help. But Jarrod would have none of it.
Kray scanned the messages.
I’m missing something, what the hell is it?
Her eyes raked the densely packed print, scouring the pages.
What the hell was it, there was something I’ve missed?
That little voice inside her head that told her something wasn’t right was now yelling at the top of its lungs.
‘So, what do you think, Roz?’ said Bagley.
Kray was zoned out and continued to read.
‘Roz, I realise you are not enthusiastic about Dan’s plan but you are part of this team and I will—’
Kray raised her hand to interrupt Quade.
‘I know where Jarrod is hiding out.’
Chapter 40
Kray was standing in front of her biggest audience of the week. Thirty expectant faces stared back at her; uniformed officers, CID, members of the armed response unit and the woman who headed up the dog unit.
‘We have information to suggest that Alex Jarrod, who is wanted for four murders, may be hiding out in a vacant property that has recently undergone building work. You all have a background briefing note regarding Jarrod, please read it and see me afterwards if you have any questions. He used a Facebook account to communicate with two people, Ellis Johnston and Christopher Millican, and in the messages they talk about their experiences of coming home having served in Afghanistan.’
Kray tapped the touch pad on her laptop and the Facebook comments came up on the TV screen. ‘On two occasions Jarrod referred to how good it felt to come home to the place he loves the most - the Central Pier. He talks about how he sits on the Promenade watching the sun setting behind the Ferris wheel.
‘He met with Millican last night and chose the pier as their rendezvous point, and in his discussion Jarrod said that he could relate to the place. He said the pier was a survivor, just like him. This place obviously has resonance.
‘I believe Jarrod is holed up in a building near to the pier, maybe in a position where he can see the structure. This is a map of the area identifying all the vacant sites in that location.’ A map came up on the screen with the premises outlined in red. ‘Jarrod has probably been planning this for a long time so we can exclude those that have recently become empty.’ The map changed to show fewer buildings coloured red. ‘And if we also exclude those that have not had any building work done to them we have this.’ The final map came up.
‘We need to search these locations. This will not be a high-profile raid and we will be led by Inspector Yates. Do you have everything you need, Donna?’
‘Yes, Roz, we have several items of clothing from Jarrod’s flat. If he’s in there we will find him.’
‘Good. I cannot stress enough how dangerous Jarrod is. He has a military background and we have to assume he is armed. I want the dog in first, then the armed response unit, then anyone else. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ was the murmured reply.
‘I do not want us blazing in with blues and twos. We lost him once and I don’t want to scare him into running. Uniform, you will be posted out on the street in case he does make a break for it. We’ve contacted the landlords and property developers and asked them to open up for us but if they are not there, we go in anyway. Does anyone have any questions?’
There was a general shaking of heads as people rose to their feet.
An hour later everything was set. The first target was a huge three-storey hotel on the front, the car park was now home to three ye
llow skips containing discarded beer cans, bottles and domestic rubbish. The landlord turned the key and the heavy padlock clicked open.
Inspector Yates went in first with an enormous Czech Shepherd dog called Cracker. She gave the command and the dog went into tracking mode. He sniffed at the floor and shot off, followed by two armed officers and Yates. Kray and Tavener brought up the rear.
The place was completely gutted, only the walls and stairwells remained. The overwhelming stench of wet clothes and mould hung in the air. Torch beams flashed around the interior as Cracker sniffed his way up the stairs and along the corridor. Rows of empty rooms with no doors stretched along the length of the building. Cracker bundled along, checking out every room, but nothing of interest turned up. It was the same on the next floor.
They came to the last room and scurried down the service stairs, through the ground floor and back out into the breathable air.
Yates made a fuss of Cracker for a job well done. Kray blew her nose when she emerged outside.
‘The next one is one street back, we’ve not heard from the landlord.’
The team made their way along the front and took a left, then a right. This hotel was on four floors and much smaller. The bolt cutters made short work of the lock. They went inside following the same routine, the place had been stripped bare, with naked block walls and concrete floors. In minutes Cracker had decided this was worse than the first and they were all outside on the pavement again.
‘Back to the Prom,’ Kray said pointing the way. ‘We’ll need the bolt cutters for this one as well.’ They turned the corner and the massive hotel opened up in front of them. Kray gazed up at the sun-baked orange front. The big bay-fronted windows standing proud on the top floor made her shudder. She could see the Central Pier in all its glory, the Ferris wheel standing out against the clouded sky.
Tavener cut through the lock and shoved open the door. Yates removed the clothes from the sealed plastic bag and once again allowed Cracker to bury his snout in the material.
He shot off.
This one was different to the other two. Woodwork and pallets were strewn across the floor and the upended reception desk lay on its side. The damp stench they had experienced in the other buildings was replaced by the smell of plasterboard.