Campus Killings

by Oliver Davies

  “I agree. He doesn’t seem to have enough motive to do something so… creative.”

  Stephen gave a short, grim laugh. “Precisely. On the other hand, it would make sense that it was a flatmate of Abby’s.”

  We’d almost reached the car which I unlocked. “I’ll drive?” I offered, and Stephen waved for me to go ahead. I didn’t want to deal with his impatient, erratic driving right after lunch.

  “It would make sense, since they’d have a key card to get into the flat,” I said, continuing the conversation where Stephen had left off.

  Stephen clicked his fingers. “Right. Because there weren’t any signs of forced entry, and if it wasn’t a flatmate, it’d have to be someone more unlikely.”

  “Like a caretaker or uni employee,” I said, nodding. I pulled out of the car park and took us back towards the station. “Or they’d have to steal a key card from somewhere instead.”

  “It’s going to be near-impossible to prove though,” Stephen concluded glumly. “There are no fingerprints on the birds, no-one saw someone leaving them, and most of the students were in their rooms, which no-one can prove or not.”

  I grunted. “Unfortunately true.” We drove a short while in silence, winding through York. It was a surprisingly bright day, with a baby blue sky and a chill in the air that wheedled its way down my collar when I cracked open the window. Stephen took a packet of soft mints out of his pocket and offered me one, making the car smell like toothpaste as he chewed.

  “I didn’t see any cameras around the building, did you?” I asked as the thought occurred to me.

  “Nope. Maybe there’s some somewhere else around the college, though?”

  I inclined my head. “Maybe. It’s possible whoever did it was keeping the birds in their room, but more likely that they stashed them somewhere outside the flat, don’t you think? Much less likely to go smelly. Either way, we’ll check with campus security later.”

  When I glanced over, Stephen looked undecided. “I don’t know,” he said. “They could’ve had the birds there overnight and put them outside Abby’s in the morning.”

  I sighed, slowing down as we approached the station and turned in. “I’ll make some calls, anyway, see if there are any possible cameras. But it’s not looking promising.”

  Four

  I was staring at the pictures the university maintenance guy had taken of the dead birds when Stephen got a call.

  “DI Huxley speaking,” I heard him say. I gestured to him, anticipating that the call would be case related, and he glared at me, before putting the call on speakerphone.

  “Hello?” someone said. I frowned, not able to place the voice immediately. “It’s Abby?” Her tentative way of speaking made her sound like she was asking a question. “There’s a-” Her voice cracked, and it sounded like she was crying. Stephen and I shared a look.

  “Abby?” I said gently. “I’m here too, DCI Mitchell. What’s happening right now? Can you talk to us?”

  She sniffed on the end of the phone. “Sorry. It’s just… there’s more. It happened again. I don’t know why!” Her last words were plaintive.

  “Alright, thanks for telling us. Have you called University Security yet?”

  “No, I called you first.”

  Stephen nodded. “Okay. Are you in your room?”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to leave, not with- those things there.”

  “How about we call University Security for you?” I offered. “We’ll get it sorted out as soon as possible and let you know when they’re gone, is that okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said weakly. “Thanks. Just, can you be quick?”

  “Of course. Have you got a contact number on hand for them?” I’d be able to find it online or by calling the university, I was sure, but I thought it’d be faster to ask Abby directly.

  She recited the number, and I thanked her.

  “Abby,” I said as a thought occurred to me, “did you open the door just now or earlier today?” It was around nine, and I wanted to know how long this new ‘offering’ had been there for.

  “Just now. I called straight away.”

  “Good job. We’ll let you know as soon as they’re dealt with.”

  “Thanks.”

  I pressed the disconnect call button on Stephen’s phone and called security on my own mobile. Stephen hadn’t said much, but he nodded when I glanced at him.

  “Hi,” I said to the man that answered. “This is DI- DCI Mitchell,” I corrected myself clumsily. Stephen gave me an amused look, and I rolled my eyes at him. “Is Michael there?” I thought it would be sensible to deal with the same person who got rid of the birds last time, especially since he’d taken decent pictures of the animals beforehand.

  Ideally, Stephen and I would get over there to see what had been left there ourselves, but Abby’s well-being was most important. Since she felt she couldn’t leave with them there, then getting rid of them quickly was the best option.

  “This is Michael speaking?”

  “Hi,” I said, before explaining that Abby had had the same thing happen again. “We’re about to head over, but can you take some photos for us and get them moved ASAP? Abby doesn’t feel comfortable leaving her room while they’re there.”

  “Yeah, of course, I’ll head over now.”

  “Thanks, really appreciate it.”

  I’d been getting my coat on as I spoke and Stephen was doing the same. “Better let Gaskell know what’s happening before we head off,” I said, after hanging up.

  Stephen slid his phone back into his pocket and nodded. “Sure.”

  Gaskell was doing paperwork in his office and looked almost relieved to have an interruption. “How’re you two getting on?”

  “There’s been another incident with dead animals being left outside the York student’s room,” I said, my mouth tight with disgust at the thought of why anyone would be so horrible. “We’re going over there now.”

  Gaskell sighed. “Alright, keep me updated.”

  Stephen offered to drive us over, and I regretted agreeing as he took us around a corner at breakneck speed.

  “Stephen?” I said, holding onto the handle above the car window.

  “Yeah?”

  “Slow down a little, will you?”

  He shot me a surprised look. “I’m going the speed limit.”

  I snorted. “The speed limit is a suggestion, not a challenge. You don’t have to do sixty down an alleyway.”

  He huffed, grumbling under his breath, but he did slow down and got us to the college in one piece at least.

  We went straight over to Abby and caught the maintenance man, Michael, just as he was leaving the flats, a plastic bag in hand and a disgusted look on his face.

  “All gone now?”

  Michael pulled a face at me. “No, I’ve called in the cleaners. It was messy this time, really disgusting.”

  “Messy?” I said, surprised. The last time had been anything but messy. In fact, I would have described it as neat and precise.

  “Lots of blood,” Michael nodded. “Look, I’ve got pictures, but let me get out of these gloves and put these birds down.”

  I quickly stepped back and waved for him to go ahead. The smell of blood was pervasive and turned my stomach somewhat.

  “That’s odd,” Stephen noted, as we followed Michael towards the gardening area, where he left the birds, and then into reception.

  “The completely different style?” I said, and Stephen nodded. “Yeah, I agree.”

  Michael had stepped away to dispose of his gory gloves and wash his hands, and I borrowed Stephen’s phone to call Abby back.

  “Hi Abby, it’s DCI Mitchell.”

  “Hi,” she said quietly. Her voice sounded strained, like she’d been crying. “Are they gone?”

  “They are, but I wouldn’t go out just yet, okay? The cleaners will be up in a minute. Then after that, you’ll be good.”

  “T-thanks. There was- it was so gross.”

  I cle
ared my throat. “Abby, try not to think about it too much, we’re handling it, I promise. Can you distract yourself with a movie or something?”

  She made a noise of agreement. “Okay, yeah, I’ll do that.”

  “Good, thank you.”

  I hung up and handed Stephen back his phone. Michael came back and took us up to a computer suite upstairs, where a couple of students were working. The place had a slanted roof and not enough windows, making it dull. There were bean bags in the corner and a whiteboard with some questionable drawings on it. The students sitting at the computers looked like they’d pulled an all-nighter and one was clearly falling asleep, a cluster of Monster cans sitting beside his elbow.

  Michael sat down at a space in the corner and sent his phone’s photos over to the computer, before pulling them up for us and moving back. Stephen and I sat down to look, angling the computer screen so that none of the students could see the disturbing pictures, and flicked through them in silence for a minute.

  “Completely different,” Stephen concluded.

  I nodded. “A different person, in fact, I’d guess.”

  Stephen and I shared a look. “Yeah,” he agreed. “To go from neat and arranged to this… bloody mess would be a huge change.”

  “It’s pigeons as well,” Michael put in, and we both turned to look up at him where he was standing to the side, leaning against the wall. He looked slightly surprised to have our attention focused on him. “Well, they’re easier to get than crows by half, aren’t they? If you’re quick, you can pick them right up in town when they’re in a big flock and used to people, you know? Crows and magpies aren’t like that, are they? Bit smarter.” He tapped the side of his head.

  I rubbed a hand over my hair. “Very good point,” I concluded. “Not only is the display method different, but it’s a different breed of bird too.”

  “And probably not killed in the same way either,” Stephen added quietly. “This was a knife, I reckon.”

  I looked at the photos again and grimaced. “Definitely.”

  “So, what now?” Stephen asked.

  I sighed. “Talk to Abby again?”

  Stephen nodded. We thanked Michael, who told us that he’d be in reception when we wanted to pick up the dead birds. I had no desire at all to have them in the back of the car, but we did need to take them to Sam in the labs. If she had time to have a look and confirmed our conclusions, then it’d be a big help. We were no closer to finding out who the author of either of the incidents was, but finding out whether they were enacted by two different people or not would be a start.

  One of the flatmates we’d talked to last time answered the door.

  “Dan,” I said with a nod. I looked the kid up and down, and he fidgeted. He was wearing pyjama bottoms with a band t-shirt, his skinny arms pale.

  “Er,” he said, looking faintly alarmed. “Can I help you?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, getting a gut feeling that he was more worried than he’d been when he saw us last time.

  “We’re here to talk to you,” I said, before Stephen could say that we were here to have a chat with Abby. “Let’s sit down in the kitchen, shall we?”

  Dan’s eyes widened, and he looked even more worried, before he gathered himself and gestured limply towards the kitchen. “Sure, go ahead,” he said weakly.

  Stephen sent me a ‘what are you doing?’ look as we followed Dan, but I didn’t exactly have the chance to answer before we were sitting down at the table opposite Dan, who looked pale.

  “We’re looking into another incident that’s happened in the flat,” I said, my tone stern. Perhaps my instincts were wrong, and Dan was unnerved by the police in general, but I didn’t think so. He’d been almost cocky last time with how he’d badmouthed Abby, but seemed nervous now. “Do you know anything about that, Dan?”

  Stephen, to his credit, didn’t undermine me in any way but went along with it, fixing Dan with the same firm look I was using, as if we both knew something.

  Dan looked like a deer in the headlights. “No?” he said, his voice going up like he was asking a question. Stephen leaned forwards slightly, and I saw the moment when he reached the same conclusion I had; that Dan was acting shifty.

  “You didn’t see anything?” Stephen asked coldly.

  Dan shook his head silently. He had his hands below the table, but I had the sense that he’d be twisting them together nervously if they’d been in view.

  “And if we were to look in your room-”

  “Okay!” Dan said sharply, making both Stephen and I stiffen. Dan pushed his chair back with a harsh scrape and stood up. I tensed to follow if Dan tried to do a runner, but he didn’t. Instead, he just stood there with his hands clenched into fists and looked at the both of us with a mix of defiance and what looked to me to be guilt.

  “Okay, what?” I said.

  “Okay, I did it!” Dan said, his voice cracking. He folded his arms over his chest defensively. “I didn’t do the first ones, alright, but maybe I did the other ones. For Christ’s sake, she wouldn’t shut up about it. She loved the attention, totally milking it, it’d drive anyone to distraction, okay?” He waved his hands around as he talked and Stephen and I watched him, unimpressed.

  I stood up, and Stephen followed. “You better come down to the station, Mr Johnson. You’re being arrested on suspicion of committing wildlife crime and intimidation. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not say something, when questioned, that you later rely on in court.”

  It’d been a while since I’d arrested someone, but they drilled the words into you, and you didn’t forget them.

  “Arrested?” Dan squeaked. “What? But I didn’t really do anything!”

  “We can discuss that at the station.”

  Dan didn’t resist as we took him out of the building and over to the car park, but he did talk his mouth off as we put him safely in the back of the vehicle. We both ignored him. I radioed in to let Gaskell and the others at the station know what was going on.

  “I’ll go get the birds,” Stephen said, and I sent him a grateful look.

  “Thanks.”

  He was a better man than me to offer to carry the disgusting things.

  Inside the car, Dan tried talking to me again. “I swear, I didn’t mean any real harm, it was just a joke-”

  “Mr Johnson,” I said flatly, fed up with his whining. “We’ll talk about what you were thinking in the interview, until then, please be quiet and allow me to focus on driving, understood?”

  “Yeah,” he said, sullen.

  I rolled my eyes. The kid didn’t seem to think he’d done a damn thing wrong.

  Stephen came back, looking faintly grossed out after he’d stuck the birds in the boot, and climbed into the car, holding his hands in the air like he didn’t want to touch anything without washing his hands first. Dan did stay mercifully quiet through the fairly short drive back to the station, which was honestly the most sensible thing he could’ve done.

  We took Dan inside, Stephen carrying the bag and me walking a short way behind Dan in case he decided sprinting off would be a good idea. He didn’t.

  We got him booked into one of the custody cells, a part of the station I’d seen on my initial tour round.

  “Hey, wait!” he protested after Stephen and I had handed him off to a constable. “You’re just leaving me here? Seriously? When do I get to defend myself?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “You’ll be questioned when we’re ready.”

  He tried to ask more, but I left him in the capable hands of the custody officers and headed up to the lab where Stephen was more than happy to pass off the bag and scrub his hands clean in the big, ceramic sink.

  “God, my hands got all sticky holding that.” He shuddered.

  “Rather you than me, mate,” I agreed.

  “You owe me one, Mitchell.”

  I grinned good-naturedly. “And here was I thinking you were doing it out of the goodness of your
heart.”

  He snorted. “Hardly. I always have an ulterior motive.” He wiggled his eyebrows comically. “I wasn’t a chess champion at my high school for nothing, you know.”

  “A rugby player and a chess champion?” I said, impressed. “You covered your bases.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, my birthday parties were a good mix of people.”

  While I’d been winding Stephen up, Sam had pulled on gloves and gotten the birds out on a sterilised counter. She started poking at the poor things, which looked like they’d been chewed up by a dog.

  “This was in the same place as the first two?” Sam asked, sounding incredulous.

  “Yeah, believe it or not,” I said.

  Sam was silent for a second, staring at them. “I’d bet on a copy-cat, you know. These really-”

  “-don’t look they were done by the same person,” I agreed.

  “That’s what Dan was claiming, too,” Stephen pointed out. “Said he’d done these but not the first two.”

  “I can believe it,” I muttered. These looked amateurish and intended to shock. I looked over to Sam. “But, to be sure, can you check to see if they were killed by strangling? Just in case.”

  She nodded. “I’ve got a couple of other things to be getting on with, but yeah, I’ll double-check that for you by tomorrow.”

  I smiled. “You’re wonderful. Thanks for your help.”

  She blushed slightly, surprising me. “No problem.” She turned away, her cheeks still red and Stephen and I headed out.

  Stephen elbowed me in the side and gave me the same look as an excited puppy, if a puppy had been nearly six-foot of bulk with a crooked nose.

  “You’ve got an admirer!”

  I pushed him lightly. “Shut up,” I said, but I was grinning too. I admitted, if only to myself, that Sam was smart and cute, and I was flattered by her flustered attention.

  Stephen sobered as we got back to our desks and we both sat down with a sigh. “Better get this questioning done, then,” I said.

  “And then all the paperwork.”