When the plastic box was wrapped, it was placed inside the cardboard box. Then the lid was closed and fastened. The pre-printed address label was placed on top.
The box was left on the end of the shelf, away from the bloodied knives.
Clean-up time. The killer had entered the secret place fully clothed. Hair had always been covered. Fibres may have been shed but, once the clothes had been burned in the incinerator, there would be nothing for the police to match the fibres to.
There were no fingerprints, only smudges from the latex gloves.
The floor was sticky with blood. There were footprints, but the rubber-soled shoes would also be placed in the incinerator. And the killer had taken the precaution of buying footwear two sizes too large.
The bloodied knives were packed into the plastic bag that had been used to carry them into the van. The gloves went into another clean plastic bag along with the stun gun, scissors, leftover ribbon and wrapping paper. Zee’s handbag lay on the floor where she’d dropped it. The killer opened it, switched off the mobile phone and left it. There was another bag in the corner. One that held clean clothes.
It was cold in the van. It would be colder outside. The killer opened the van cautiously. No one was about. Before leaving the van the bloody-soled shoes were removed and packed into a clean bag. Then the killer locked the van door and moved swiftly to the incinerator room. There was no CCTV there.
The killer stripped off, removed mask, socks, clothes and underclothes, and placed them in the bag with the shoes. All the contents of that bag were pushed into the flames followed by the leftover ribbon, scissors, wrapping paper, gloves and van keys. The last object burned was the stun gun. The knives were still needed. Dressed in street clothes and wearing a clean pair of gloves, the killer left the room and climbed the stairs once more. There was no CCTV on the basement floor that housed the porters’ studio apartments either.
There was the sound of music. Damian was awake and writing.
The killer used the master key code to enter Ted’s apartment. A dirty shirt was in the linen basket in the bathroom. The killer wiped the bloody knives and fork on the shirt but was careful to leave a little blood on the blades. The knives were replaced in the bag. Just as the killer was placing the shirt at the bottom of the basket and piling the rest of the dirty linen on top, the sound of key code buttons being pressed was followed by the door opening.
Chapter Seven
There was no time to close the bathroom door. The killer stepped behind it and watched the studio through the crack.
Damian was in the kitchen area. He opened a cupboard, took out a jar of coffee, scribbled a note on a pad and left. The door closed behind him.
The killer let out a deep breath, then, crept from the bathroom and read the note.
RAN OUT OF COFFEE. TOOK YOURS. WILL REPLACE, DAMIAN.
The killer listened at the door before creeping out of Ted’s apartment. All was quiet.
There was a glass panel in the door that opened from the back stairs into the foyer. The CCTV screens were playing to an empty room. As planned, Ted was working on the plumbing in the studio. A minute to place the box with its printed message on the porter’s desk.
URGENT DELIVERY FOR MR JACK BARNES TO BE SENT IMMEDIATELY
Up two flights of stairs, avoiding the cameras. Use the key code. Enter the apartment. Close the door.
‘What the hell …?’
Bruno was in the hall.
No time to think. The killer pulled one of the knives from the bag and stabbed him.
Chapter Eight
‘Urgent delivery for Mr Barnes.’ The messenger, with his motorbike helmet under his arm, dropped a cardboard box on to Alice’s desk. He handed her an electronic pad.
Alice scribbled her signature. ‘I never get this right. It looks as though a spider has crawled across the glass.’
‘Beats me how they read them,’ the courier agreed. ‘See you.’
Alice picked up the box and glanced at the clock. The meat suppliers had been in with Jack for an hour, which was the time limit he set on business meetings. She knocked on his door.
‘Come in.’ Jack was standing shaking hands with his visitors.
‘You won’t regret increasing your order, Mr Barnes.’
‘I hope I won’t. Alice, would you see my visitors out please?’
‘This way,’ Alice smiled at them before ushering them out of Jack’s office.
Jack saw the parcel Alice had left on his desk. He’d seen a small box in a Harrod’s bag in Zee’s handbag when she’d left it open, but he’d thought she’d give him her Valentine gift at lunch.
He took a pair of scissors from his desk drawer and cut through the strip that fastened the box. Inside was a beautifully wrapped package.
‘It’s a shame to untie that bow.’ Alice was in the open doorway.
‘Zee’s good at presentation,’ Jack commented.
‘It’s wonderful to see two people so in love.’
‘Enough of your teasing, Alice.’
‘I wasn’t teasing. Just jealous.’ She waited while Jack cut through the ribbon.
‘This is like the children’s game, pass the parcel.’ Jack removed the heart-strewn wrapping paper to reveal a plastic box.
‘Zee’s making sure you receive whatever it is in one piece.’
Jack prised the lid from the box. His eyes widened. He stepped back and crashed into the wall.
Alice moved closer, turned pale and retched.
Chapter Nine
Jack read the label on the bloody lump of flesh in the box.
ZEE BROKE MY HEART SO I TOOK HERS. BUT YOUR NAME WAS ON IT. YOU CAN KEEP IT.
The initials JB were scratched into the muscle below the flag.
‘I’ll phone the police.’ Alice picked up the receiver.
‘No,’ Jack whispered hoarsely. ‘Not until after you’ve phoned Zee.’
Sergeant Ben Miller tossed the Valentine card that Inspector Amy Stuart had given him aside. ‘Valentines are supposed to be secret, not handed over in person.’
‘Given the way you avoid people, especially women people, were you expecting a card from a secret admirer?’ Amy demanded.
‘I lead a full private life.’
Amy looked Ben in the eye. ‘You do?’
‘I do,’ he repeated. ‘And, what’s this?’ He held up a voucher folded into the card. ‘What’s a one-legged man supposed to do with six free sessions in the gym?’
‘Get fit,’ Amy suggested through a mouthful of hot dog.
‘Like you?’ Ben mocked. ‘I’ve never known a woman eat so much junk food.’
‘That’s why I go to the gym every morning. To work off the calories. Dare you to meet me there at six o’clock tomorrow morning?’ she asked.
‘The way you two argue, anyone would think you’ve been married for years.’ Superintendent Davies joined them at their desks.
‘Try uncle and niece,’ Ben corrected.
Amy’s father had worked with Ben Miller for fifteen years. The car crash that had cost Ben Miller his leg had killed Amy’s father. Ben had taken a year to recover. When he’d returned to the force, he’d had to fight to remain on active service. Amy had fought alongside him, arguing that Ben’s brains weren’t affected by his missing limb.
‘More like annoying interfering uncle and despairing niece, ma’am. You have a case for us?’ Amy pushed the last of her hot dog into her mouth.
‘A case, or a sick practical joke,’ Barbara Davies answered. ‘Someone sent Jack Barnes a heart.’
Amy wiped her hands on a tissue. ‘Jack Barnes. The restaurant owner Jack Barnes?’ Jack Barnes wasn’t only an entrepreneur and owner of a chain of restaurants. He was a popular celebrity who ‘guested’ on TV shows. Amy had seen him several times. He was always witty, amusing and well informed about whatever topic was being discussed.
‘That Jack Barnes,’ Barbara confirmed.
‘It’s Valentine’s Day,’ Ben pointed out.
‘The heart’s real.’
‘Human or animal?’
‘The lab’s checking. The message that came with it suggested it belonged to Jack’s wife Zee. Her mobile’s switched off. The last signal came from the apartment building they live in.’
‘How do you want to proceed, ma’am?’ Amy reached for her notebook.
‘I’ve sent Sergeant Reece and a team to Barnes Building. Jack and Zee Barnes live in the penthouse. Sergeant Reece has orders to interview the residents and begin a search. He’ll report to you. I suggest you begin by interviewing Mr Barnes.’
‘We’re on our way.’ Amy grabbed her bag.
‘Jack Barnes is high profile. The tabloids will make this front page, so avoid journalists. Here’s what little paperwork I have.’ Barbara handed Amy a thin file.
‘Inspector Amy Stuart and Sergeant Ben Miller to see you, sir.’ Alice showed them into Jack’s office.
Jack was at his desk but he’d turned his chair to the window. His face was grey, his eyes unnaturally bright.
Amy spoke first. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Barnes, we’ve no news. We were only assigned to the case twenty minutes ago.’
‘Zee … my wife …’
‘Officers are searching for her,’ Ben assured him.
Jack glanced at his watch. ‘The parcel arrived three-quarters of an hour ago. I wanted to go to the apartment but the porter said she’d left the building … We were meeting here for lunch. Her phone’s switched off. She never switches it off …’
‘Are there any friends she might have visited?’ Amy interrupted.
‘My brother and sisters live in the building. The porter said Zee left around twenty past eleven. I feel so useless. The heart? The constable took it away for tests …’
‘We haven’t had the results yet, sir.’ Amy changed the subject. ‘What about shops? Are there any between your apartment and here that your wife might have visited?’
‘Dozens.’ Jack looked at his watch again. ‘But it’s ten to one. Even if she went shopping, she’d be here by now. We lunch at one o’clock and she’s always early.’ He stared at the tiny figures walking on the street below. ‘I don’t know what to do …’
‘We agreed it would be best for you to wait here, Jack,’ Alice said softly.
‘The officer who took the heart said it could be just a sick joke. He thought it could be the heart of a pig or a sheep?’ The look in Jack’s eyes said what he couldn’t put into words. He wanted it to be a hoax.
Amy’s mobile rang. She answered it.
‘Sergeant Reece here, ma’am. We’ve found a body in Barnes Building. The murderer was next to it. Holding a knife.’
Chapter Ten
‘I’ve been expecting you two.’ Patrick O’Kelly, the most eccentric of the Home Office pathologists who worked with the police was drinking coffee from a specimen beaker. A heart was on a slab in front of him.
‘This is a quick stop. Sergeant Reece found a body in Barnes Building and a man next to it holding a knife.’
‘The body—’
‘Has a heart.’ Amy referred to the notes Barbara had given her and looked around. There was no sign of the box the heart had been packed in, or the wrapping.
‘Is this heart human?’ Ben asked.
‘Without a doubt.’ Patrick pulled off his gloves, opened a body drawer in the bank behind him and removed a packet of biscuits.
‘Fresh?’ Amy asked.
‘Yes.’
‘How fresh?’ Amy pressed.
‘On the basis of the blood in the arteries, I’d say it was taken from the body of an adult less than an hour before Jack Barnes received it. It’s the heart of a young person. There’s no sign of disease or aging. Biscuit?’ He thrust the packet of chocolate digestives at Amy.
‘No thank you.’
Patrick offered them to Ben, who shook his head.
‘Coffee? Tea? Jenny can rinse out a couple of specimen beakers.’
‘We had a large breakfast.’ Amy knew Patrick tried to shock officers by drinking coffee out of beakers used to store body parts. She’d never asked, but hoped he kept a separate set for his and his assistants’ use.
Patrick bit into his biscuit. ‘The blood group matches that of the missing woman.’
‘That was quick work.’ Amy was surprised.
‘Jack Barnes’s secretary had Jack and Zee Barnes’s medical records on file. They honeymooned on safari in Africa. Jack carried a medical kit in case either of them became ill or injured.’
‘What kind of medical kit?’ Amy asked.
‘Syringes, antibiotics, bags of saline solution, over-the-counter medicines. Nothing suspicious.’
‘Have the boxes the heart was delivered in been examined?’
‘Being examined now. The outer cardboard box had four sets of prints. The lab’s working on them. But I’m guessing they belong to the porter at Barnes Building, the motorbike messenger, Jack Barnes’s secretary, and Jack Barnes. The inside box, wrapping paper and ribbon had smudges overlaid by Jack Barnes’s prints.’
‘Latex gloves,’ Ben suggested.
‘Probably.’ Patrick finished his biscuit and took another.
‘What about DNA and tissue match?’ Amy persisted.
‘A constable delivered Mrs Barnes’s toothbrush to us. A technician is working on her DNA profile. Another is looking at the inside and outside of the boxes. But don’t expect a forensic miracle. Whoever did this knows how we work.’
‘Sick bastard,’ Ben murmured.
‘I agree,’ Patrick concurred. ‘Whether it’s real or a hoax, it would take a diseased mind to think up this one. Did you know she was pregnant?’
‘How many months?’ Amy questioned.
Patrick finished his coffee. ‘The baby’s not the motive. Zee Barnes was five months pregnant. The foetus wouldn’t be viable.’
‘So if this heart is Zee Barnes’s, we’re looking for a double murderer?’ Ben suggested.
‘If you consider a five-month foetus a human being, yes.’ Patrick pulled up his mask.
Ben studied the heart. ‘I’m no expert, but that looks like a neat removal to me.’
‘It’s not bad,’ Patrick agreed.
‘The work of a doctor?’ Amy questioned.
Patrick walked to the slab. ‘If it was, the doctor didn’t use medical instruments.’ He picked up the end of an artery with forceps. ‘See the jagged edge? This was cut several times by a large blade, not delicately by a scalpel. The removal wasn’t the result of fine surgery. Whoever took this heart from the body used knives.’
‘Any particular knives?’ Amy asked.
Patrick prodded the centre of the heart. ‘Here we have two puncture wounds about one inch apart. The tissue around the wounds is stretched. Possibly caused when the heart was lifted from the body.’
‘By a fork?’ Amy looked at Patrick.
‘A two-pronged domestic carving fork comes to mind.’
Amy shuddered. ‘You’re saying this heart was removed from a human body using a butcher’s carving knife and fork?’
‘Not a butcher’s,’ Patrick corrected. ‘Butchers’ knives are larger than kitchen knives. There’s also the initials. Not very clear, but I’d say some effort was put into carving them with a knife with a serrated edge.’
‘JB,’ Ben read.
‘Jack Barnes. Fits with the message on the flag.’ Amy tried to recall it word for word.
‘“Zee broke my heart so I took hers but your name was on it. You can keep it”,’ Patrick quoted.
‘If that heart was Zee Barnes’s, we have work to do,’ Ben prompted Amy.
‘You have work to do whether it is or isn’t Zee Barnes’s,’ Patrick pointed out. ‘This heart was taken from a live body less than two hours ago. If the person concerned was sane, I doubt they consented.’
‘You’re certain the person was alive when the heart was removed?’ Amy tried to remain professional, but the thought horrified her.
‘The ar
teries were cut while blood was pumping through them.’
‘Was the victim unconscious?’
‘We’ve picked up no trace of anaesthetics or sedatives in the blood. But we’re still running tests.’
‘Is there anything else you can tell us?’ Ben looked at his watch.
‘The heart was removed from the body by someone with a basic knowledge of anatomy.’
‘Doctor, nurse?’ Amy asked.
‘Butcher or chef, someone used to cutting up animal carcasses. Almost anyone with a reasonable knowledge of human anatomy. So you can include artists, keep-fit instructors, hospital technicians …’
‘In short, about half the population,’ Ben complained.
‘I’m a pathologist, not a fortune-teller. I can only examine evidence,’ Patrick lectured.
‘You have our mobile numbers?’ Amy checked.
‘I do. I’ll be able to tell you more if you send me the corpse the heart was taken from.’
‘We’ll do our best.’
A technician handed Amy, Ben and Sergeant Reece protective clothing as they entered the foyer of Barnes Building. They covered themselves in the white suits, bonnets and overshoes before snapping on gloves.
Constable Michelle Green was waiting for Amy and Ben at the desk. ‘Sergeant Reece is with the suspect, ma’am. He was found in the apartment on the second floor.’
‘He’s still there?’
‘Yes, ma’am. The doctor’s with him. Sergeant Reece is waiting for you. Lift straight ahead of you. Only one of the four is operational. Forensic are working in the others.’
‘Has the suspect been identified?’
‘All I know is that he’s a resident, ma’am.’
Chapter Eleven
The lift was covered in fine grey fingerprint powder. White-suited technicians were swarming over the corridor. A suited constable was standing guard outside the apartment door.
‘Ma’am, sir. The duty pathologist is examining the corpse. I’ve been ordered to warn you to step inside carefully.’ He opened the door for them.
Bloody Valentine Page 3