“Definitely. Let the woman sleep; she’ll thank you for it. Come on. We’ll see whether there were any useful cameras in the area.”
I grunted an agreement, and we spent the next couple of hours first plotting out the route I thought I’d taken through the streets, and then searching the police database for local CCTV. There were a couple, but they were frustratingly unhelpful.
“Useless,” I muttered, looking at the second CCTV recording we’d managed to track down. The hooded man was a fuzzy blur as he ran past. His face was completely in shadow, and we got little from the low-quality footage, especially once he entered the Halloween tourist crowd.
“You didn’t happen to see his face, did you?” Stephen asked me.
“No,” I said. I flipped through my memories of the night’s chase. “You know,” I said, “we’ve been looking into this Will Seton, but that bloke I chased… he was too short to be Seton. Will was built like a brick wall.”
Stephen sighed. “Great. More complications. Maybe Will’s our killer, but not the stalker?”
I grimaced, unconvinced. “Maybe,” I conceded.
Stephen rubbed his forehead. “Alright, I reckon it’s late enough that you can call your lady now.”
I got Taylor on the phone, my forehead scrunching into a sympathetic frown at the weariness in her voice.
“I’m sorry to ask,” I said, “but we really need you to come in to give your statement.”
She was quiet for a minute, just her breath audible in the speaker. “About last night?”
“Yes. It’s important we hear it all while it’s fresh.” I paused, wondering whether to mention that we needed to ask about Will too, but I was worried that bringing it up would leave Taylor stressing over it in the meantime. I ended up not saying anything about the ex-student and arranged a time later today for her to drop by.
“Thanks, Taylor.”
“No problem,” she said. Her tone was a little flat, and I could understand why.
I felt heavy as I hung up the phone, and Stephen reached over to clasp my shoulder. “It’ll be alright.”
He couldn’t promise that, but I appreciated the sentiment and nodded, before clearing my throat.
“Let’s see if we can track down Will’s bar, hm?” I suggested.
Stephen groaned, tipping his head back in his seat. “You know how many pubs there are in York, Mitchell?”
“No, but I guess you’re gonna tell me.”
“You guess wrong,” Stephen chuckled. “I have no idea. But it’s hundreds, okay? There are so many bars. How exactly are we going to find him?”
I rubbed my chin. “No clue,” I admitted, trying to look at this thing from all angles to see if there wasn’t a side route that we’d ignored.
Stephen had been watching me. “You’re scheming. That’s your plotting face. You’d make a great supervillain, you know.”
“Stephen, shut up.”
He laughed. “Come on, what’s the master plan?”
God, he was such a child sometimes. “There’s no master plan.”
“But?”
I rolled my eyes. “But,” I admitted, “we could chat to Abby. It’s just an idea, but if this Will is our guy and he’s got something against Taylor-”
“He might have beef with Abby too.”
I snapped my fingers. “Bingo.”
“Alrighty. So I’ll call Abby, and you can look for-”
“Nope.” I grinned at him. “I’m pulling rank. You can start trawling through the pubs and looking online, and I’ll call Abby.”
He cursed me. “You’re the worst.”
It took me fetching him a doughnut for him to forgive me, and then we set to it. Abby sounded quiet but steady when I talked to her on the phone, and I was truly relieved that she was out of York for the moment, especially after what had happened with Taylor yesterday evening.
“What does he look like?” Abby asked. “I don’t know honestly. Will is kind of a popular name.”
“He’s massive,” I said honestly. “Think Welsh rugby player, but with all of his teeth.”
“Oh,” Abby said quietly.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I remember him.” She was quiet for a long minute, and I waited for her, feeling that pressing her wouldn’t help. “We, er, hooked up once.”
I could hear the embarrassment in her voice and kept my tone steady when I said. “When was this?”
She hummed. “I dunno. Maybe a year ago? He…” She trailed off, and as I was about to prompt her, she spoke again, “He messaged me a lot afterwards. I, honestly, I kind of ghosted him. I just- I just got a bad vibe from him. He was so… pushy.”
I was frowning now, my stomach feeling tight and uncomfortable. “Abby,” I said quietly, “did he ask you to do something-”
“No!” she cut me off sharply. “No, nothing like that. I was on board. It’s only… he seemed really entitled. And he was straight-up nasty to my roommate. I don’t know. I had a gut feeling.”
I made a noise of acknowledgement as I made notes. Abby’s gut feeling had been right, I thought.
“Do you think he was the one that’s been…?” she asked.
“Leaving the birds?” I offered, not sure if she was referring to that or the student killings. “We’re not sure. We’re looking into all possibilities.” It was a cop-out of an answer, but I couldn’t confirm anything right now even if I’d wanted to.
“I was planning to come back to York soon.”
My pen paused where I’d been writing. “How soon?”
“I don’t know, a couple of weeks' time?” she said, like it was a question.
I chewed my lip. “I understand that you’re probably worried about your schoolwork,” I said, “but these are extenuating circumstances, Abby. I’m not confident saying that it’s safe for you to come back yet.”
I heard Abby inhale. “Not safe?” she repeated. “What do you mean? You think this- this person wants to hurt me?”
I dithered, unsure how much to say. God knows, I didn’t want to traumatise her by putting frightening thoughts in her head, but I honestly didn’t want her back in York until this bloke was under lock and key.
“I think it’s a possibility.” I was silent for a beat. “I can put in a word with the university,” I offered. “It must be really hard putting things on hold while your friends continue,” I said, rubbing a hand through my hair as I spoke with genuine regret, “but I think this is best for your safety.”
“You don’t think my flatmates are in danger, do you?” she asked quickly.
It increased my opinion of her that she worried about her flatmates even as her life was being disrupted in a big way.
“I don’t,” I said. “I think the targeting was specific. That’s why I’d be worried for your safety if you returned. We’re not forbidding you, but that’s my advice.”
She sighed. “Okay. Thanks. I’ll- I’ll stay here for a bit longer. But you’ll tell me, won’t you? When I can come back?”
“Straight away,” I promised.
I hung up, looking almost jealously at Stephen as he was trawling through all the pubs in York, and he caught the expression on my face.
“Tough conversation?” he said sympathetically.
“Aye. Poor kid wants to be back here.”
“It’s for her safety,” he said.
I nodded. I knew that, I just hoped that the time when it was safe for her to return would arrive sooner rather than later.
Still, finding out that Abby had a direct link with this guy was a significant step forwards and furthered the likelihood of him being our stalker.
“She knew him,” I told Stephen.
His eyes widened. “Yeah? And he’s got a reason to be pissed with her?”
“Sure does,” I said, and didn’t go into details.
“On that positive note,” Stephen said, stretching out his legs with a click of his knees, “I think it’s time for lunch. I could eat a horse.”
“Any progress with the pubs?” I asked, as we headed off for the shops.
“None. Zip. Zilch. Absolutely nothing,” Stephen grumbled.
“Alright,” I sighed. “We may have to table that idea. Now that we know Abby’s linked to Will, we’ll need to talk to the other victims’ flatmates.”
“Look for a connection there, yeah,” Stephen said with a nod.
“Probably have to talk to Sedgwick.” I pulled a face.
“Oh, the horror.”
I elbowed Stephen in the ribs hard enough that he wheezed, though I was mostly sure that he played it up.
“You’re as bad as a footballer,” I said as he clutched his side and pretended to be mortally wounded. “Rolling on the grass over a poke.”
“A poke? You call that a poke? I’m gonna be black and blue tomorrow.”
I snorted. “Big baby.”
I got my comeuppance when he jabbed me back, with significantly more force than I’d done to him.
“Ow!” I glared at him. “That was unnecessary!” I had to get him back after that, and we mucked about as we came back from Sainsbury’s. Stephen managed to defend himself from my pokes even whilst eating his sandwich, his mouth stuffed with egg and cress, which was impressive.
“You do boxing at school or something?” I asked him as we sat back down at our desks.
“Nah, you’re just that bad.”
“Wow, Stephen.” Maybe I really should take some martial arts or boxing classes, though where exactly I’d fit them in, I had no idea. I could give up a couple of hours on the weekends, I supposed. I was fast and fit, but I wondered whether I would’ve been able to take down that guy who’d been following Taylor if I had caught him, or if he would have just left me injured?
“Aw, Mitchell, I’m teasing, don’t look so put out.”
“Too late, Huxley, I’ve taken your insults to heart already.”
We talked as we ate, but my head was on the case, turning it over in my head. As it happened, Sedgwick turned up just as I was finishing, and he was on his way to Gaskell’s office.
I hurriedly swallowed my mouthful. “Sedgwick!” Wiping my mouth, I stood up to head around my desk and over to him.
“What is it, Mitchell?” he said, his semi-permanent frown etched into his forehead.
“We’ve got a suspect,” I told him, before filling him in on Will Seton’s connection to both Taylor and Abby, and how he’d seemed to have gone underground, or was at least making himself difficult to track down.
Sedgwick at least listened to me with no interruptions. “I expect you’ll copy me in on the report?” he said, when I was done.
“Yeah, of course,” I agreed, “but I need the contact details for the two victims’ flatmates, so I can follow up-”
“I will handle that.”
Taken aback, I frowned at him. “What? No, Stephen and I will.”
He narrowed his eyes, leaning forwards slightly so that he was up in my space. “It’s my case. I’m the one who talked to the victims’ friends and families before, don’t let your ego get in the way of good police work, Mitchell.”
My ego? I pushed away my initial, angry response to his goading. He was acting like my superior when we were equals, but of course, he didn’t see it like that, what with him being a city officer longer than I had.
“I’ll expect a write-up,” I growled out after a second, “and I’m sure you won’t forget to include who gave you the lead.”
“Naturally.”
I turned away and returned to my desk, simmering with annoyance.
“Y’alright?” Stephen asked hesitantly.
“Aye, fine.”
I checked my watch and saw that Taylor would be turning up to give her statement soon. I took a steadying breath and wished, for the first time in a long while, for a cigarette to take the edge off my irritation.
“I’m getting a coffee,” I said, taking the second-best option. “You want anything?”
“Tea, please,” Stephen said. He was still working on contacting York’s pubs, since we now didn’t have anything else to follow up. Every time I thought about Sedgwick’s arrogance, it riled me up, so I pushed it away and consciously decided to ignore it.
Bringing Stephen back his tea, I spent the next half-hour helping him with searching through the pubs, but none of the ones we spoke to reported having employed a Will Seton. I considered whether Will might’ve lied about his name, so I did describe his physical appearance when I was asking, but I didn’t get any matches on that either. Plus, the way he’d brazenly introduced himself to Taylor and me while we were on our date made me think that he thought himself too untouchable to lie about his name, that or he’d perceived Taylor and me as no threat. He’d not known I was a cop, certainly.
Stephen nudged me with his elbow. “About time for you to meet your hot date, hm?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Grow up, Steph.” He just laughed. I paused as I was getting up, thinking about what we needed to ask Taylor in this interview, because I didn’t want to miss anything and have to put her through this twice, if we could avoid it.
“What is it?”
I looked at Stephen. “Do we ask her about Will?” I didn’t really want to have to drag all of that past up when it was so clearly painful for her, but he was becoming a significant part of the investigation, and she was the one who seemed to have known him the longest.
Stephen cocked his head. “Probably should, yeah. She ought to be aware, Darren,” he added seriously, “in case he turns up at her door or when she’s out and about.”
“I think she’s plenty wary of him already,” I said darkly. “But yeah, you’re right.”
I made my way downstairs, chatting idly to the officer at the front desk as I hovered in the lobby. It had begun to rain outside, first lightly spitting and then in heavy, drenching sheets.
A bobbing, red umbrella approaching through the deluge and I stepped forwards to get the door as Taylor hurried inside.
“God!” she said, when she saw me. “It’s absolutely tipping it down out there!” Her shoes and lower legs were soaked, but she looked as put together as she usually did, from the waist up, her hair only a little ruffled by the wind.
I hadn’t noticed,” I teased, nodding at the large windows we were still standing by.
She smiled a soft, crooked smile, before shaking out her umbrella and folding it down.
“Just check in there,” I said, gesturing to the desk, “and then I’ll take you through.”
“Sure thing, Officer,” she said.
I took her upstairs once she was booked in and opened the door of the interview room we’d booked for her. Stephen was already in there and he stood up with a friendly smile and an offered hand when Taylor walked in ahead of me.
Taylor shook his hand. “Hi,” she said. “DI Huxley, right?”
“The one and only.”
I rolled my eyes at Stephen, and he definitely saw it.
“Alright,” I said, getting down to business. “I’ll turn on the recording, we’ll introduce ourselves, and then we’ll ask you some questions,” I told her. Taylor looked a little nervous but nodded. “If you need a break at any point, let us know, okay?”
“Okay.”
I gave her a reassuring smile. “Good, let’s get this over with then.”
At my nod, Stephen turned the audio recorder on, which flashed up a red light. I announced who was in the room and then leaned forwards on the metal table.
“Ms Solomons,” I started, “can you tell us about the events of the evening of the 31st of October in as much detail as possible?”
Taylor took a breath and nodded. “I went to my four o’clock yoga class, as usual,” she started. Her hands were knotted together on top of the table, and she shifted in her seat as she crossed her legs.
I didn’t want to interrupt her, but I already had a question, so I fished out my notebook and made a note of it, nodding for Taylor to go on when I saw that she’d hesita
ted, watching me.
“It was getting a bit dark, you know how it is this time of year,” she continued, and I nodded. “But I thought I could walk home in time. It’s not far.” She audibly swallowed, clenching her hands together until her fingers turned white. I wished momentarily that I could take her hand and support her through remembering this, but it wasn’t my place.
“I- I’d only been walking for ten minutes or so when I heard something.” She tucked her hair behind her ear where it had slipped free. “I thought it was all the Halloween celebrations, but then it sounded like footsteps, and it was so quiet. I was getting scared,” she admitted softly, “and I kept looking back, hoping it was just my imagination, you know? But I saw a s-shadow, someone, following behind me. It could’ve been just anyone, right? But I got a bad feeling, and that was when I called you.” She nodded towards me and then seemed to remember that it was an audio recording. “Er, DCI Mitchell, I mean.”
“And after that?” I prompted.
“Then, then I was on the phone with you,” she said quietly. “And this- this person was openly following me now, and I was,” she gave a nervous laugh, “pretty freaked out. I tried to head towards the railway station, because I thought it might be busier, and be a good place to meet you, and then h-he started running.”
Her breathing hitched, and I found it painful to watch her looking so upset. But she got herself together after a moment and picked up her narrative.
“He started running, and I panicked and took off, too,” she said, staring down at the table. “I dropped my phone, and he was chasing me, and god, I don’t know how long it was, it felt like ages, but then I heard you- I mean, DCI Mitchell- shouting for me.”
I made an affirmative noise. “Thanks for telling us,” I said gently, wishing I could give her some better comfort than that.
She nodded. There was a pause while she collected herself, and I thought about what I wanted to ask.
“When you looked back,” I started, “did you see any details of his face?”
I was certain the perp had been male, and too small to be Seton, but that was about it.
Taylor made an apologetic face. “No, not really, I’m sorry. I… didn’t think I recognised him? And I would guess that he was white, and young, but that’s about all.”
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