Campus Killings

by Oliver Davies

I made a noise of acknowledgement. “Nice place.”

  “What made you move?” Stephen asked almost confrontationally.

  I paused before answering. “I loved Lockdale, but I didn’t want to waste the opportunity for something new.”

  Stephen grunted. “You’re probably used to stolen sheep and the like,” he said before chuckling.

  I didn’t laugh. “Not exactly,” I said. He gave me an unconvinced look, almost mocking, and I barely stopped myself from glaring. “Murder happens anywhere, Huxley,” I said sharply, “not just in the cities. If you can stop looking down y’nose at me for a minute, maybe we’d get along just fine.” My accent thickened when I was annoyed, and I was gratified by the look of surprise on Stephen’s face, even if my dressing down hadn’t been entirely productive towards making friends.

  I walked away before Stephen could rile me further with his irritatingly patronising way of talking and plonked myself down at my desk to sip my coffee. I briefly missed my previous partner, Kay, and Lockdale’s cramped, old station with its leaky roof, before I shook my head and told myself to focus. I wasn’t old enough to be getting sentimental yet, I needed to make the most of this job, and preferably prove Stephen wrong in thinking that I was an incompetent country bumpkin only capable of tracking down wellies lost in the mud.

  Stephen came over later with a boxful of possessions, presumably from his old desk. We didn’t talk as he unpacked and I got acquainted with Hewford’s more modern and updated computer system, and we went our separate ways when it was time for lunch.

  Gaskell walked over in the mid-afternoon, and I looked up from the computer. “Mitchell, Huxley,” Gaskell said, nodding towards his office.

  “Are we in trouble already?” I said to Stephen, forgetting for a minute that I was annoyed with him.

  Stephen sent me a wry look. “No, he’s not nearly frowning enough, that’s just his everyday scowl.”

  I snorted. “Good to know,” I said as we left our desks and headed over to Gaskell’s office, which was a plain affair, though large enough that three people inside didn’t feel cramped.

  Gaskell looked serious as we stepped inside. He waved for us to close the door, which Stephen did, before we sat down.

  “How’re you settling in?” Gaskell asked me.

  “Fine, sir, thank you.”

  “Good,” Gaskell said briskly, before folding his arms as he looked between us. “Now, perhaps I’d normally have both of you eased into things more gradually, but I’ve seen Mitchell at work,” Stephen shot me a look, like he hadn’t been aware of that fact, “and I’ve known Huxley for years, so I’m throwing you boys in at the deep end.” It amused me that Gaskell called us ‘boys’, even though I reckoned he and Stephen were similar in age, and me only a few years younger.

  “Up at the university, we’ve had a report of dead animals being left outside a room in halls. I want you to go talk to the student today.”

  I blinked. That hadn’t quite been the kind of case I thought Gaskell would assign us when he’d said he was throwing us in at the deep end, but this sounded interesting enough. It wasn’t like I could argue, anyway.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Gaskell nodded. “Good. I’ll send over the details, and you can have a read through. The student will be expecting you both around four.”

  That was our cue to leave, and Stephen and I headed back to our desks to read over what Gaskell had sent.

  I sat back in my seat a couple of minutes before Stephen did and watched as he finished reading the initial report, his brow furrowed with concentration.

  “Thoughts?” I asked once he looked over at me.

  He shrugged. “Some sort of nasty joke?” He pulled a face to show what he thought of that idea. “Maybe revenge over something. It’s a little early for a Halloween scare.”

  I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, by about a month.” I rubbed my chin, which I’d shaved this morning, but prickles were coming through already. “Best go talk to this… Abby Higson, then.”

  Stephen nodded. “Guess so,” he agreed.

  We booked out a patrol car and headed over to the uni which wasn’t far. Abby Higson, who’d called in about the incident, was living in Halifax college, which was a short way off-campus and had its own car park.

  “This is where I stayed, my first year,” Stephen said as we were pulling up.

  I looked at him in surprise. “You studied at York?”

  He looked a little bashful about it. “Yeah, didn’t move far away.”

  “No,” I agreed with a light laugh. “But Yorkshire’s like that. I couldn’t imagine moving outside of it.”

  “Exactly.”

  We got out of the car and followed the signs to Abby’s building and then rang the bell. There was some yelling from inside the building, and I could see a number of people inside the communal kitchen through the front window, but it was still a while before someone got the door.

  It was a tall bloke who answered, built across the shoulders in the manner of a guy who spent too much time at the gym. He blinked in surprise to see us and took a step back.

  “We get a noise complaint or something?” he said.

  I hid a smile. “No. Can we come in?”

  He awkwardly made space for us to enter and pointed out the kitchen. I stepped in first, and Stephen followed behind.

  “We’re looking for Abby, is she in?” I asked the room at large. Four young faces looked at me, all of them curious.

  “Yeah,” one of the women said, her dark hair impressively long, “she’s up in her room. Top floor, first on the right.”

  “Thank you.” We left the room, the sound of talk swelling up as soon as the door closed behind us. Climbing up to the third floor left Stephen slightly out of breath, but I decided it would be more diplomatic not to mention it.

  We headed over towards Abby’s door before I paused, frowning slightly at the floor.

  “What is it?” Stephen said.

  “Didn’t the report say that the birds were left outside her room?” The birds certainly weren’t there now, and there wasn’t anything left on the dark carpet.

  “Yeah. Guess they moved them.”

  I grunted, unimpressed. “I suppose they couldn’t leave them. I hope someone took photographs.” I stepped forwards to knock on Abby’s door.

  She answered immediately, looking nervously up at us. She was petite, less than five foot, with big dark eyes and blond hair.

  “Hello,” she said quietly, before awkwardly stepping back to let us in. The room was tidy but lived in and brightly lit by a skylight over the desk.

  “I’m DCI Mitchell, and this is DI Huxley,” I said, still feeling a tiny thrill to be able to say my new rank. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  She took a seat at the desk whilst we stayed standing, keeping a little way back so as not to loom over her. She fidgeted with the bracelets on her slender wrist and couldn’t seem to make eye contact with us.

  “It was this morning,” she said, her voice cracking. “I got up and almost stepped on them when I went out.” Her tone was soft and she looked deeply upset. “I don’t know why anyone would do that, why would they do that?”

  The sight of her, so disturbed and worried, tugged at my heartstrings, and I fumbled for something to say.

  “I’m not sure, Abby, but we intend to find out, okay?” She gave me a small nod. “Can you think of anyone who might want to upset you like this?”

  She shook her head. “No, I mean, I didn’t realise anyone disliked me so much as to do this. It’s so mean.”

  “Well,” Stephen said, “there’s a possibility it was random, but the likelihood of that is relatively small. Are there any exes who might have done it?”

  I shot him a look, wondering if he’d been too direct, but Abby just shook her head.

  “Has this happened-”

  “Actually,” Abby said, interrupting me with an apologetic look. I waved for her to go on. “I did have a bad break-up with m
y last boyfriend. But it was over a month ago, before summer break.” She looked between us, like she was waiting for our opinion.

  “We’ll look into it,” I said. “Have you got a name and number for him? And an address?”

  She had all three and wrote them down for us.

  “And has this happened before?” I asked again.

  “No.”

  “Any threats, or other incidents? Anyone following you?” I didn’t want to scare her, but I needed to be sure.

  “No,” she said again, before looking less sure. “I mean, not that I’ve noticed.”

  “Alright, thank you,” I said.

  “And the… birds,” Stephen said, hesitating before he continued, “they didn’t mean anything to you? It wasn’t a message of any kind?”

  Abby looked confused and shook her head again, before tucking her hair behind her ear, which had several piercings up the side. “No,” she said. “I have no idea. I’m sorry.”

  “Did the university remove them?”

  “Yeah, a couple of the maintenance guys, I think,” she said.

  Stephen nodded. “Did you happen to take any photos before they got taken away?”

  Abby wrinkled her small nose. “Oh no,” she said. “I couldn’t look at them. It freaked me out, seeing them like that. I locked myself in until they were taken away. I couldn’t even step over them.” She shuddered.

  “And you’re a second-year?” Stephen asked, taking a different tack. She nodded. “Is there any rivalry academically there, or-?”

  “No, no,” Abby said. She laughed awkwardly. “I do okay at work, but I’m not top of the class or anything. And lectures don’t start for a while yet, anyway.”

  I nodded. “Okay, thank you. Is there nothing else you want to tell us?” She shook her head silently. “Alright, then.” I reached into my pocket for a business card, before realising I hadn’t had any York ones printed off with my new rank yet.

  Stephen shot me a knowing look and already had one of his cards pulled out.

  “If you think of anything, or see anything, call us right away?” he said gently. “Even if it seems like something small.”

  “Thank you,” she said, taking it. “It’s really weird,” she added, “I don’t get why someone would do this to me.” She was tearing up. “I’m sorry, I’m not usually-”

  “Have you got a friend in the halls?” I asked. “Someone you can talk to?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got friends in Vanbrugh,” she said, sniffling. “I’ll go over there.” She’d pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and summoned a weak smile. “I’m okay, really. Thanks for coming over.”

  “No problem.”

  We saw ourselves out, heading down the multiple flights of stairs and out the front door into the balmy September late afternoon. I knew that the university term hadn’t even started yet, and it seemed strange that this had happened so early, before the first years had even arrived. If it was related to university matters, it would make more sense for something like this to happen later on, after relationships and friendships had broken down. But Abby said she had no idea who it could have been, and her ex-boyfriend waiting a month to retaliate seemed unusual.

  “I don’t like this,” I muttered as we walked through the court and followed the signs towards Halifax reception. I wanted to ask whether someone had taken pictures of the birds before they were removed.

  “It’s all pretty weird,” Stephen agreed.

  We entered reception and found a lady sitting behind the desk on the left. She looked to be about sixty, her hair starting to grey slightly near her hairline.

  “Hi, I’m DCI Mitchell, this is DI Huxley,” I said. “We’re here about the incident that was reported.”

  “Oh yes,” she said. “Michael dealt with that, I think. He’s in the post room, just over there. Here, I’ll let you in. The students need their keycards for it, so none of the post goes missing.”

  She’d gotten to her feet while she talked and opened the door for us.

  “Michael?” she said, and the man inside turned around. He looked surprised to see us for a moment before he nodded.

  “You’re here about the dead bird thing?” he asked, as the receptionist left the room.

  “We are. Was it you who removed them?” Stephen asked.

  “Yeah, nasty business. Horrible thing to do to someone.”

  “And did you take any photos before removing them?”

  To my relief, he nodded. “Yeah, just in case. You want to see?” He took out his phone, flicking through it before handing it to me.

  I frowned down at the picture for a long moment before passing it to Stephen.

  “Can you send us that, please?”

  “Sure,” Michael said agreeably. “You got an email or something?”

  Stephen gave Michael’s phone back to him and pulled out another of his business cards. Clearly, I really needed to get some printed.

  “Email’s there,” he said, pointing. “If you can send any pictures that you have to that as soon as possible, that’d be hugely appreciated.”

  “Yeah, ‘course, no problem.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “And what did you do with the birds themselves? Have you still got them?” I really wished they’d left the birds where they’d been put until we had gotten here, but I understood that that was hardly practical when it’d been in a block full of students.

  Michael’s thick eyebrows lifted in surprise, but he nodded. “Yeah, I didn’t get round to burying them yet. They’re out the back here.”

  He led the way out of the building and round the side, walking a short distance before he reached a fenced-off area, which he unlocked.

  “Stuck them with all the gardening stuff,” he explained. “Since it can be locked off and all.”

  The plastic bag on the floor looked harmless, but knowing what was in it made me reluctant to pick it up. I stepped forwards and picked it up anyway, glancing inside to check that both birds were there. They were and beginning to reek too. Thank god it’s not summer, I thought.

  “Alright, thanks for that.” I nodded to Michael.

  “Glad to help,” he said, locking up behind us as we left.

  I held the bag away from me as we headed back to the car park. It was a blustery day, but the wind itself was mild, and the sun was out. The leaves were starting to fall, but they hadn’t all turned yet, and it’d be a while before winter set in properly.

  “What do you think, then?” Stephen asked as we were getting back in the car. I dumped the bag in the boot and shut it, wishing I could wash my hands, but that’d have to wait until we got back to the station.

  “I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “I think we need to go drop these birds off at the station and then visit the ex-boyfriend.”

  “Sure.” Stephen checked his watch. “Tonight, though? It’s already half five.”

  I shot him a look. “You got someplace to be?”

  He shrugged. “Home? Back to my missus?”

  I huffed. “Fair enough. We’ll track down the ex-boyfriend in the morning.”

  “Thanks.” He paused. “No partner waiting at home for you, then?”

  I rolled my eyes. “No.”

  Heading back to the station, I turned the pictures of the birds over in my mind. On the small phone screen, they hadn’t been terribly easy to see, and I was looking forward to seeing them blown up on the computer. But I’d seen enough to think that the birds, because there had been two of them left outside Abby’s door, had been carefully placed there, rather than dropped or tossed. It left the interesting question of why the birds had been put there at all, and what purpose they were meant to achieve, if there had been any other purpose intended than just to upset Abby.

  It wasn’t the murder case I’d been tentatively expecting, but the puzzle of the thing intrigued me, and I looked forward to delving deeper into the case.

  Three

  The next morning, I got up early to go for a run around York
before work. It was a beautiful city, especially in the quiet, golden light before the crowds of tourists, locals, and commuters started to flood the streets. I took a winding route towards work, exploring the surrounding area and using my phone map to keep myself from getting lost. I knew York well enough, but all the little back streets were a maze and, though it wasn’t a huge city, it was easy to get turned around.

  I turned up at work, sweaty and pink in the face, and headed immediately for the showers, which I’d asked Stephen about yesterday. He’d seemed bemused by the idea of running to work, and I took it that he didn’t have the running bug himself.

  The showers were hot and pleasant, and I headed towards my desk with my hair dampening my collar. My curls went flat when wet but would spring up as they dried.

  Stephen wasn’t in yet when I arrived, nor was Gaskell. It seemed like the folk here tended to stick to the nine-to-five, at least normally. They had enough personnel to do that, I thought absently as I made myself comfy, unlike Lockdale’s small staff.

  I opened up my email, but Stephen hadn’t sent over the bird pictures yet, if he’d received them from Michael, so I started on the paperwork from yesterday, writing up what Abby had said and what we’d found out so far, which wasn’t exactly an overwhelming amount.

  I looked up the ex-boyfriend Abby had mentioned and blinked in surprise, before my stomach turned. The guy had been reported for domestic abuse about two years ago, not by Abby but by another woman. I hoped that Abby not mentioning it meant that the boyfriend, Gerry, hadn’t done anything to her, and she hadn’t known about it, not that she’d kept that from us.

  A man with a record like that might do something as disturbing as leave dead birds, I thought, but it didn’t really add up that he’d waited so long after they’d split up to do it.

  Stephen turned up after I was getting into my second coffee and looked unsurprised to see me.

  “Run into work, did you?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said absently, still focused on my computer. “Did the university guy send you the pictures?”

  “I’ll check,” Stephen said as he sat down at his desk with a sigh, loading up his computer. The email was there, and he sent it over to me.