“Time to ask Abby some questions,” he said.
“Aye.” We headed downstairs, and not wanting Abby to have to see the bird in the plastic bag, I sent Stephen to put it in the car while I went ahead to talk to Abby. Stephen was a lovely guy, but he was fairly scary looking to someone that didn’t know him, especially to a young person like Abby who’d just had a bad fright. I was still a tall bloke, but at least I didn’t look as much like a bare-knuckle fighter as Stephen did, especially when he was frowning.
When Stephen had gone out with our bagged bird, I pushed the kitchen door open, stepping inside.
“Abby?” I said.
She and her flatmate, Nicola, were sitting close together with Nicola’s arm wrapped around Abby’s shoulders. Nicola was the first to look up, and Abby sluggishly followed, looking at me tiredly.
“I’m afraid I need to ask you a few questions. It’s okay if you’d like your friend to stay,” I added.
Abby nodded, twisting her hands together, and I took a seat opposite her at the kitchen table. She wouldn’t meet my eyes as I got my notebook out, but that was okay.
“Did you call us right after you arrived at your room?” I asked first, a question to ease us in.
She thought for a moment. “Maybe ten minutes after,” she said quietly. “I was so freaked, I came down here, saw Nicola.” She nodded towards her friend.
I nodded. She’d needed time to gather her nerves before calling. “And what time did you leave your room? Was it this morning?”
“Yeah,” she said. She had her phone in her hands and was turning it over absently, still looking shaky and upset, although she’d settled down quite a bit since Stephen and I had spoken to her earlier. “I had a nine am lecture and left in time for that.”
I noted that down. “Okay, good. And do you remember if you locked your door before you left?”
She hesitated briefly before she gave a decisive nod. “Yeah, I did. I’m sure. I dropped my keys, and it was annoying because I was late, but I made sure to lock it. I always do.”
I frowned slightly at that. We were looking at someone capable of lockpicking or perhaps an employee with a spare key. We’d check with the university faculty after this to be sure. “Have you seen anyone following you recently? Or anyone strange hanging around?”
Abby looked unsettled and glanced towards Nicola, before she shook her head. “No?” she said in a small voice. “I mean, not that I’ve noticed.”
“That’s good,” I reassured her. “Has there been anyone in the flat recently that’s not one of your housemates?”
Abby frowned and shook her head. “Not that I know of?” she said, making it a question again.
I was thinking about my next question when Stephen came in quietly, and Abby and Nicola both turned around as he walked around the table to take a seat next to me.
“You haven’t received any strange messages, letters, emails? Anything like that?” I asked. I thought Abby would’ve told us if she had, but I wanted to be sure. Predictably, she shook her head.
I glanced at Stephen, silently asking him if he had any questions for Abby, but he shook his head.
“Alright, thank you-” I started.
“I’m going to go home for a while,” Abby said quietly. “I-I can’t be here anymore.” She audibly swallowed.
Stephen and I shared a look. “That sounds like a good idea for the present. Can you give us your parents’ address and landline, in case we need to contact you that way?” We already had her mobile number from when she’d called Stephen, but if it was turned off, or reception was poor at a critical time… no, it was best to have all the available contact numbers.
I pulled out one of my new business cards, ignoring Stephen’s very slight smile, and Abby wrote her parents’ details on the back with my pen.
“Thanks,” I said. “We’ll call you with any updates. We will need your fingerprints to go on record, so that we can rule out those that match them. When will you leave?”
Abby tucked her blond hair behind her ear. “My parents are coming for me later.”
Later today, I assumed, and nodded. “Can you drop by the station at Hewford before you go?”
She agreed to ask her parents to bring her by. I thanked her again, and we saw ourselves out, both of us thinking it all over.
Or maybe Stephen had just been thinking about his lunch. “I’m starving. Sainsbury’s when we get back?”
I snorted. “Sure,” I agreed.
I drove us back, very aware of the dead bird in the boot which we dropped off at the lab. Sam wasn’t in today, so we couldn’t speak with her. After thoroughly scrubbing my hands clean of the taint, we walked across the road to Sainsbury’s and then took our lunches back to our desks. It was a gloomy sort of day and I was shivering without a coat.
“Need to put some meat on your bones,” Stephen said, not cold in the slightest.
I waved my meatball baguette at him. “I am.”
“Eat more cake, do less running. Keeps you warm,” Stephen said wisely, though I could tell by his crooked smile that he was taking the mickey.
“I’d rather wear a coat, thanks. Less risk of a heart attack.”
“Harsh, Mitchell.” He didn’t look too bothered, though.
I wrote up our visit to Abby’s whilst eating my way through my lunch and getting tomato sauce everywhere. I went off to fetch a cup of coffee, feeling badly in need of the caffeine by then. The aftermath of eating made me feel dopey, despite the morning’s events. We’d dropped off the fingerprints I’d collected at the same time as our newest bird, to be enhanced, if needed, then run through the system for a match. The system database was far from all-encompassing, and it was likely that we wouldn’t get a match at all, unfortunately. Despite this new incident, we were still stumped on major leads.
My phone buzzed as the kettle was boiling and I pulled it from my pocket, my eyebrows lifting when I saw that it was an unknown number. I tipped the boiling water into my mug and then clicked open the message.
Hi, it’s Taylor :)
I smiled at the short text and replied briefly, asking her about her day. We chatted for a couple of minutes about nothing important, before I excused myself to go back to work, even though I’d rather have stayed talking to her.
Carrying my coffee back to my desk as I tucked my phone away again, I came up short as I stepped into the office.
“Stephen?” I said as I reached our desks, already uneasy. There was too much bustle with too little noise about the place suddenly, and I got the strong feeling that something bad had happened. Only the fact that I’d literally just texted Taylor convinced me that nothing had happened to her. “Is it Abby?”
Stephen looked up at me from where he’d been staring blankly at his screen, lost in thought. He shook his head, snapping out of it and looking grim as he met my worried gaze.
“The supe’s just let everyone know,” he said. “There’s been another student murder.”
Ten
My stomach dropped, and I swore, sitting down heavily in my chair and setting my coffee down on my desk.
“When? Where?” I asked.
Stephen shook his head again as he started to get to his feet. “I don’t know details,” he said. “Gaskell’s about to give a press conference.”
He nodded towards a conference room that was connected to the office at the end where the other police officers seemed to be gathering. I followed him as he headed over. There was a large television there, playing the local news, and a small crowd of officers all watching in silence.
Gaskell came on about a minute later, with Sedgwick sitting at his side, and began explaining the situation. There’d been another killing, another female, first-year student found at a different club in York. The case had officially become a serial murder case. I pressed my hand to my mouth as I watched, feeling vaguely sick. I worried for Abby and Taylor and was glad that Abby was going home today and would not be staying any longer, in a room that som
e malicious, and possibly murderous, stalker could clearly get access to.
Gaskell appealed for anyone who had any information or had seen anything on that night. He played the video footage of the suspect we’d obtained from the club where Hannah’s body had been discovered. I guessed that the second club hadn’t had CCTV nearby. Regardless, the second victim hadn’t been identified yet.
Gaskell announced that the university would be closed for a time as a precautionary measure, and I realised that the man sitting on Gaskell’s other side was the university dean. The press didn’t get to ask any questions, and Gaskell nodded and left after delivering the information. The number for any tips or information remaining on the screen for another thirty seconds before the normal news returned. The attentive silence was broken as the gathered officers started talking animatedly to each other in hushed voices, shocked and freshly galvanised by what we had just learned.
I shared a look with Stephen, and then we both left the room, heading back to our desks. I leaned back against mine before moving to pace, too agitated to keep still.
“We need to talk to Gaskell and Sedgwick,” Stephen said quietly. The office was unnaturally quiet for this time of day, and it was unnerving, making me want to talk quietly as well.
“Sedwick’ll be at the crime scene, for sure.”
Stephen gave a short nod. “Did the killer really do this, what, last night, and then go to Abby’s to string up that bird this morning? It seems too close together, almost.”
As adamant as I was that the cases were too similar to be a mere coincidence, I had to agree with Stephen. “Maybe they’re not working alone,” I guessed aloud.
“Or they’re ramping up.”
“Or that,” I agreed.
We got in touch with Gaskell, and he said he’d be back in the station soon. The crime scene had already been swept up before the press conference. Stephen and I were behind on the news because we’d been out seeing Abby.
There was nothing to do but wait tensely for Gaskell and Sedgwick’s return. I considered going to the lab to see if there had been any progress with investigating the bird we’d brought in before lunch, but with this murder, all the technicians’ attention would be on that. And I thought I could predict that the bird had been strangled or smothered like the others… the previous dead student. Would this second murder be the same?
I surfed news channels, looking for any more information, but none of them knew anything more than what Gaskell had announced, no matter how much they speculated aimlessly, and I turned it off in annoyance.
Gaskell strode into the room, Sedgwick in tow, and I stood up quickly from my desk. So did several other officers, who stepped forwards towards Gaskell as if to talk to him. He picked Stephen and me out, though, and pointed at us, gesturing for us to get ourselves into his office with him, stat.
I snatched up my notebook and strode over, with Stephen at my side. Sedgwick stood at the door looking too preoccupied to be annoyed by my presence today. He shut Gaskell’s door, once we were all inside, and leaned against the wall, because there were only three chairs.
“Sir?”
“It’s asphyxiation again,” Gaskell said, looking tired. “Though definitely strangulation this time. He had his hands clasped tightly together in front of him. “Have you seen the body yet?”
I shook my head. Gaskell tapped at his computer, before turning the screen to face Stephen and me. I frowned at it for a long moment, before reeling back.
“Ballerina,” I said quietly but firmly, my head spinning. She had the clear physique of a dancer, lithe and finely muscled, but it was the toes that clued me in to the ballet background.
Gaskell nodded. “Exactly. She was on a sports scholarship, for gymnastics actually, but she was extremely talented at ballet, as well. She was found on the university’s running track.”
Something clicked together in my head all of a sudden. “The killer’s targeting sportspeople. Hannah played football, sir,” I thought aloud. “The position she was in was like she was running. Playing the game.”
Gaskell shared a look with Sedgwick. “That fits,” he agreed quietly.
“Hannah’s death also happened on the women’s football society night out.”
Gaskell rubbed his forehead. “So this is the connection. Sportswomen.”
I hummed. “That doesn’t link to Taylor or Abby… Well, Taylor does run, but she’s not part of a uni society or a student, and Abby-” didn’t play sports, as far as I knew from her socials, I was about to say, but Gaskell lifted a hand to stop me speaking.
“We’re focusing on the murders right now, Mitchell. I want you working on this too.”
“But, sir, they’re linked, I’m sure of it-”
Gaskell sent me a look, shutting me up. “I need people chasing this new lead up, Mitchell, not being distracted. I know your primary case was upsetting for the women involved, but we’re talking about an active murder case. Understood? I want you researching who might have a grudge against sports students, particularly sportswomen. York has good sports equipment and facilities. A hell of a lot of the students are actively involved in sporting activities, so we have a lot of potential future victims and possible killers, if they’re a sportsperson, too.”
“Yes, sir,” I said flatly, not too pleased by his decree, but it did make sense. It wasn’t like Stephen and I had any hot leads to chase up with the other case. Hopefully, this new revelation would open up our first case too.
“With the university shut down, including all sporting activities, the clock is ticking. Let’s get to work.”
“Sir,” I said, standing up to leave.
Back at our desks, I’d only just sat down before my phone rang. It was Taylor, and my heart stuttered, not with happiness this time but panic. Was she in trouble?
“Taylor?” I said hurriedly as soon as I’d picked up.
“Darren,” she said, not sounding fearful, and I relaxed back into my chair. “I heard about the student killing…” She trailed off before swallowing thickly.
“Yes,” I confirmed quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m staying with a friend for the moment,” she continued after a moment. “I know it’s irrational, but it’s freaking me out-”
“No, no,” I said hurriedly. “That sounds really sensible. I’m glad to hear it.”
She sighed. “Good,” she said, sounding a touch relieved, like she thought I might dismiss her concerns. “Well, that was all. I didn’t want you to come to the house and be concerned when I didn’t answer.”
I was touched. “Thank you for the thought.”
“Sure,” she said quietly.
We were both quiet for a second more, and it was soothing, somehow, just to hear her breathing after such horrible and upsetting news. It was nice to hear the proof that Taylor was doing fine.
“I’ll let you get on,” she said after a short while, and I nodded, though she couldn’t see me.
“Okay, speak soon,” I said, half on reflex and half in the hope that we would speak soon.
“I’d like that.”
I smiled. “Bye, Taylor.”
“Bye,” she echoed and hung up.
Stephen sent me a teasing look as I put my phone down, but it was half-hearted. He wasn’t really in the mood for banter after the news.
“She’s okay?” he asked instead.
“She’s staying with a friend for a while.”
“Good,” he said with a nod.
We buried ourselves in research for the rest of the day and spent the rest of the week in the same way. I kept an eye on my phone, and although Taylor and I texted regularly, we heard nothing from either woman about more dead animals being left, and I hoped that their temporary changes of address would keep them safe.
We dug into the lives of numerous university students who were big on the sports scene, accompanying Gaskell and Sedgwick to meetings with the university dean. While Stephen and I chased up dozens of faint possibilities, no
ne of which seemed to lead anywhere, Gaskell and Sedgwick talked to the second victim’s family and flatmates and didn’t seem to progress far there either.
October drew towards the end, and York flaunted its Halloween colours, leaning into the spookiness of the old city, with its twisting, narrow shambles and the grand cathedral with its gargoyles. Tourists flocked to the ever-popular, night-time ghost tours and the little shop that sold hand-painted ghosts was always crowded. Residential areas had glowing pumpkins on the porches and decorations in the gardens.
“Halloween wasn’t so much of a big thing when I was a kid,” Stephen grumbled as we drove along such a street, heading back through York after going to talk to the captain of York Uni’s women’s football team one afternoon. She’d been broken up over Hannah’s death, but had, perhaps unsurprisingly, known nothing more about it or who could have done it.
I was disappointed by our lack of progress and clenched my hands on the steering wheel before taking a turn back to the station. It was steadily getting dark, and the orange glowing of the lit pumpkins caught my eye as we drove by.
“Aye,” I agreed with Stephen. “I never went trick-or-treating either, but now all the neighbourhood kids seem to turn up, wanting sweets.”
“How awful of them,” Stephen said lightly. He was more patient than I was and seemed less outwardly irritated by how we seemed to be going round in useless, endless circles these last couple of weeks. Having kids probably made you more patient, I thought absently.
“I suppose you’ll take your little monsters out to rot their teeth when they’re old enough?”
Stephen chuckled. “We’re already planning to take them both out this year. They’re going as the teacups from Beauty and the Beast, you know?”
“Very scary,” I said, deadpan.
Stephen huffed. “Cute kids get more sweets,” he said. “And then me and Annie can steal some.” Annie was his wife.
“If I buy you sweets, will I be able to tempt you out running?” I said.
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