Cold Blood: A gripping serial killer thriller that will take your breath away

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Cold Blood: A gripping serial killer thriller that will take your breath away Page 20

by Robert Bryndza


  ‘And there’s no ID,’ said Moss.

  ‘As yet, no. He didn’t have anything on him. His wallet was empty.’

  They looked back at the mangled body of the man lying on the steel table.

  ‘I think someone hit him with a car, and then finished him off to put him out of his misery,’ said Patty as she slowly zipped up the body bag and pushed the body back into the refrigerated drawer.

  ‘Put him out of his misery, and then stuffed him in the drainage pipe,’ added Erika. ‘What’s happening with forensics?’

  ‘Everything has been sent off, along with several pieces of concrete found with blood spatter around the body,’ said Patty. ‘If you’re saying we have a link to another case, I’m sure we can have things fast-tracked.’

  ‘Do you think we’re clutching at straws?’ asked Erika on their way back in the car.

  ‘Do I think we want to link that murder with the others, yes, but the psychology of smashing in that bloke’s face, it could be our killers. If we can match forensic material from that crime to DNA or bodily fluids found in Justin Selby’s Jaguar, we could hit the jackpot.’

  Erika nodded and stared out of the window into the blackness. ‘A man and a woman. The psychology of that is just too disturbing. The dynamic of a dysfunctional relationship added in with committing murder.’

  ‘And why do you think they’re doing it?’

  ‘Fun, power, revenge, lust… money. Pick any or all of them. Everyday emotions bring out the worst in people.’

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The next morning, Erika was called into a briefing with Superintendent Hudson and Commander Marsh in the large conference room at the top of the station. It was the first time she’d seen Marsh since he’d come to her flat the other morning, and he gave her a curt nod in greeting. Erika briefly outlined the case so far, and then shared some new evidence.

  ‘We now have an enhanced image of the woman who came back to Daniel de Souza’s flat,’ said Erika, holding up a CCTV image which clearly showed the young woman’s face.

  ‘And there’s nothing workable from the CCTV of the male?’ asked Marsh.

  ‘No. The Cyber Team were able to enhance the face of the woman, but he seems pretty savvy, or just lucky. He kept his head down. There was nothing to enhance. However, we have him wearing the same blue Von Dutch branded baseball cap in the footage taken from outside Selby Autos, and when he arrives at de Souza’s flat, and later on in the CCTV footage when they dumped the case in Covent Garden. They then walked down Longacre, and took the N155 night bus which goes towards Morden, through Westminster, Elephant and Castle, Clapham etc. We’ve put in an urgent request with TFL for any camera footage they can give us.’

  ‘Have we had anyone from the family identify the body of Daniel de Souza? It would be ideal to have that in place before we put out anything in the media,’ said Melanie.

  ‘Yes. Daniel de Souza’s mother identified his body an hour ago. She lives close to his flat. He bought her an apartment nearby, in Marylebone, two years ago.’

  Marsh picked up the photos taken from the crime scene, of the blood-spattered body parts in the suitcase, and of his bloodied, smashed-in face.

  ‘Erika, how can we be sure that this is Daniel de Souza?’

  ‘His mother has formally identified the body.’

  ‘The body was heavily mutilated and left unrecognisable. Do we need to run any DNA? To be sure?’ asked Marsh.

  ‘We had a Family Liaison Officer visit Mrs de Souza yesterday. Daniel de Souza is of Cuban heritage, and he had the mariposa flower tattooed on the inside of his left arm.’ Erika held up a post-mortem photo of the tattoo. It was a white flower with four petals, and the pale ink used in the tattoo had a ghostly sheen on his dark skin. ‘His mother was aware of the tattoo, and this formed part of the formal identification,’ said Erika, a little more brusquely than she needed to. ‘Now, I would like to release details of his murder. We’ve discovered Daniel was gay, and I would like to focus our appeal on the social networks, targeting the gay community first.’

  ‘OK. Let’s get in contact with Colleen Scanlan about this,’ said Melanie.

  ‘You think this is a gay bashing?’ asked Marsh.

  ‘I don’t know; the previous victims are from different social groups. I just think there’s a lot of noise out there, and focusing this as a gay interest story will highlight the case more in the press, make it stand out,’ said Erika. ‘I’ve got uniform asking around bars in Soho, and we’re looking into several leads where de Souza was seen on Saturday night.’ She paused. ‘I also have an unidentified body found in a drainage pipe close to the M40 in an Oxfordshire village. It wasn’t dismembered, but it shares several characteristics with these other murders.’

  A look passed between Marsh and Hudson, and then Marsh spoke.

  ‘So you think we have a Bonnie and Clyde thing going on here?’

  ‘I don’t know. I want to keep our cards close to our chest. I need to be sure I can link all the murders before we go public, and I want to play down to the media that it was two people. I want to lead with the photo of the woman. I’m waiting on forensics from the Jaguar, taken by Charlene Selby from her parents’ dealership. I also want to talk to a minicab driver who picked up all four of them in Slough. It seems that during my absence, when this case was handed over to DCI Harper at narcotics, nothing was done. It was kicked into the long grass.’

  ‘But the case did give them a valuable break on a sizeable drug network,’ said Melanie.

  ‘No, me being attacked by two low-level drug dealers gave them a valuable break,’ snapped Erika, holding up the plaster cast on her arm. There was an uncomfortable silence in which Marsh and Melanie busied themselves in the paperwork strewn out on the desk.

  ‘Yes, well, I’m sure all things are in hand to do with that,’ said Marsh. Erika had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. ‘And Erika, just make sure that your team doesn’t get involved in nicknames, talking about Bonnie and Clyde… Thelma and Louise. The press love to pick up on these things.’

  ‘I think you need to give my officers credit, sir. I have no leaks in my team, and you’re the first person who’s used these names. And the press will be more than capable of coming up with something on their own, and we’ll have no control over it,’ said Erika.

  ‘Just remember that stupid names stick,’ said Marsh. ‘They stoke fear in the public and they put the spotlight back on the police, and we always come out in an unfavourable light.’

  Erika looked at him, and saw he was using his old tactics of deflecting and attacking.

  ‘If the police were properly funded, and not obsessed with PR and what people think of us, we could just get on with doing our jobs—’

  Melanie interrupted. ‘Erika, can I remind you that the commander has taken time out of his schedule to meet with us at very short notice.’

  ‘And I thank him for making time for us,’ said Erika with a hint of sarcasm. ‘Now, I’d like to get going with putting out an appeal for the ID on this woman, if that’s okay with you, sir?’

  Melanie looked at Erika and Marsh who were almost squaring up to each other.

  ‘Is there anything else you would like to say?’ asked Hudson, turning to Marsh. He locked eyes with Erika and she could see his emotions bubbling away behind his eyes. He had lots more to say, but it wasn’t to do with the case.

  ‘That’s all, thank you, Erika. Keep us posted,’ said Marsh.

  And she left the office.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Later that afternoon Erika and her team were working in the incident room when McGorry said she had a phone call. Erika took it at her desk. It was Cariad Hemsworth from forensics.

  ‘Erika, hi. Our tests are now complete on the Jaguar. We’ve identified five sets of fingerprints: Charlene Selby, Thomas Hoffman, Justin Selby, as I would expect, him being the owner of the car showroom. There were also two other sets of prints which could be consistent with the two other peo
ple seen exiting the car.’

  The atmosphere in the incident room was very rowdy and Erika waved her arm for them to quieten down.

  Cariad went on. ‘Forensics also took prints from Daniel de Souza’s apartment. The same two sets of unidentified fingerprints were present. We got a partial thumb, and index finger.’

  Erika punched the air with her plaster cast, and the incident room went quiet, watching.

  ‘I’ve also had a call from Patty Kaminsky, my colleague working in Thames Valley Police, Oxford. You met with her yesterday concerning an unidentified body.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Her colleague did a superglue fuming test on two of the large rocks recovered with the body of the unidentified male in the drainage pipe, and it yielded a usable thumb print. It matches one of the prints that is present in the Jaguar and at Daniel de Souza’s apartment.’

  Erika gripped the phone. ‘Would the prints stand up in court?’

  ‘We have a twelve-point match on all of the prints. We’re also running additional tests for DNA on fingerprint residue and swabs, but this will take a little longer.’

  ‘Thank you…’ started Erika.

  ‘There’s more,’ said Cariad. ‘We had a DNA match back from the lock of hair you found in the drainage pipe. It’s a woman called Rachel Trevellian. She lives here in Oxford. She’s forty-five years old, and was arrested for ABH back in 2009. She was swabbed for DNA when she was arrested, but the charges were dropped. I’m sending all of this over in an email. Her address is in there too.’

  Erika came off the phone and relayed the information to the team. There was a whoop and a cheer.

  ‘You were right, boss!’ said McGorry with a huge smile on his face. ‘You had a hunch the murders were linked and they are.’

  Moss punched the air, and Crane nodded and gave her the thumbs up.

  ‘Okay, this is a very strong development—’

  ‘Strong development? That’s fucking brilliant,’ said Detective Temple, his Scottish accent somehow making the F-word more palatable.

  ‘I say strong development because we still need an ID on our two main suspects,’ said Erika.

  ‘Colleen Scanlan has just emailed,’ said Moss. ‘She’s now got everything ready to release the CCTV image to the media, and hopefully they will go with it on the early evening news bulletins. She’s also posting on social media. She’s leading with the information that Daniel de Souza was gay. It’s not explicitly stating this was a hate crime, but the details are compelling, and should hopefully grab people and get them sharing and commenting on their newsfeeds.’

  Erika and the team stayed in the incident room until the report had gone out on the BBC London early evening news. A contact team was ready on the telephone switchboard at Lewisham Row, but the phones remained quiet.

  Erika decided to call a short break to get some food, and made her way down to the reception area, where Sergeant Woolf was just finishing up his shift and handing over to another officer.

  ‘What happened to the Christmas tree?’ asked Erika, seeing it had vanished from the corner of the reception area. ‘Don’t tell me someone complained about us having a religious symbol on display?’

  ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head and pulling on his coat. ‘They brought a crackhead in for questioning the other day, and this crackhead was left in reception. He started eating the baubles.’

  ‘You’re kidding.’

  He shook his head. ‘He ate two and half a string of tinsel before I noticed, and that was only because he was choking. Luckily I pulled the tinsel out before he lost consciousness.’

  Erika bit her lip. ‘Sorry. It’s not funny.’

  ‘It is, but it’s a shame, the tree really brightened things up in here,’ he said. ‘It seems like anything nice in this world is destroyed or taken away from us.’ They emerged from the station onto the steps. It was freezing cold, but the sky was clear. ‘Ah well, good night,’ he said.

  ‘Haven’t you got a car?’

  ‘No, I take the train. It’s much easier on the DLR.’ He wound his scarf around his neck and went off to the station.

  Erika started walking across the car park, past a large blue Space Cruiser in Marsh’s parking space. As she looked in the window, she saw Marsh’s wife, Marcie, inside. She waved awkwardly, and went to carry on but Marcie wound down her window.

  ‘Hello, Erika. It’s been a while,’ she said. Marcie was a similar age to Erika, but oozed an almost ethereal beauty with her creamy blemish-free skin, long dark hair and beautiful face.

  Erika moved over to the car and saw two young girls in the back seat, arguing over an iPad.

  ‘Can you two share? You both want to watch Peppa Pig, so I don’t know what you’re bickering about,’ snapped Marcie over her shoulder. The little girls were identical twins, with long dark hair and the beginnings of their mother’s good looks. ‘Sorry, Erika. It’s always a bit of a madhouse. How are you? I heard you had a run-in with some nasty men.’

  Erika bristled a little at the way Marcie reduced what had happened to her to Enid Blyton proportions. Erika forced a smile on her face.

  ‘Yeah, a cracked rib, whiplash and stitches, and a broken wrist,’ she said, holding up her arm.

  ‘Didn’t they offer you a promotion? You should have taken it, it’s much safer behind a desk.’ She turned back to the girls, who were staring at Erika in awe. ‘Do you remember Auntie Erika, girls? She’s a friend of Daddy’s.’

  Both girls obediently squinted through the window at Erika, and then in unison said: ‘No, Mummy.’

  ‘I remember you both when you were born, and I’ve been to your house a few times,’ said Erika.

  ‘The girls probably don’t remember you, because you usually bang on the door late at night.’

  There was an uncomfortable silence and they stared at each other. Marsh then appeared, coming down the steps of the station.

  ‘Daddy, daddy, daddy!’ the girls cried and started to wriggle around in their seats. Marsh came to the rear passenger door, opened it and started to unbuckle them.

  ‘Hello, you two!’ he said as they climbed out of the car seats and put their little arms around him. They wore matching pink coats with blue trousers and pink trainers.

  ‘Bloody hell, Mummy has you strapped in tight.’

  ‘I don’t want them to get in the habit of clambering around in the car,’ said Marcie.

  Erika noted how her nostrils flared when she spoke to Marsh.

  ‘Marcie, you’ve got the child lock on the doors. You should let them out of the belts when you’re parked,’ he said, adding: ‘You’ll keep me posted on the appeal.’ He didn’t look Erika in the eye.

  ‘Of course, sir. I’m just off to grab a sandwich…’

  ‘Well, if you’re off to grab a sandwich can we give you a lift?’ said Marcie.

  This was one thing Erika didn’t get about British people: they would cut you to the quick one moment with a barbed comment, but then would offer you a lift so as not to appear rude.

  ‘No, thank you. I was going to drive,’ replied Erika. It had started to rain and she pulled the collar up on her coat. ‘Nice to see you, Marcie, and you too, girls.’

  They all ignored her, too caught up in bickering about getting the girls back in their car seats. Erika sprinted to her car and got inside, relishing the silence. She waited until Marcie had driven away and then started the engine. Just as she pulled past the front entrance, Peterson came out onto the steps. He wore jeans and a thick black jacket, and he had lost the thin gaunt look in his face. Erika slowed and wound down her window.

  ‘Hey, how are you?’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve been to see Superintendent Hudson about coming back. To work.’

  ‘She didn’t mention it.’

  He shrugged. ‘I think stuff like that is confidential.’

  Erika could see he was getting wet in the rain.

  ‘Haven’t you got your car?’

&nbs
p; ‘No. I came on the train.’

  ‘Let me give you a lift to the DLR.’

  He pondered it for a minute and then came down the steps and got in. They both hesitated, and then he gave her an awkward peck on the cheek.

  ‘How are you doing?’ he asked, looking at the plaster cast.

  ‘This is coming off any day now, and I’m as good as new, doing great. You look almost back to your old self too.’

  ‘Yeah, I turned a corner when—’

  ‘When I went away?’ Erika shot back.

  ‘No, I was going to say when they got my meds right, and I’ve been able to eat and sleep. I’ve put on almost two stone.’

  ‘Are you coming back to work full-time?’

  ‘In the next few weeks, yes.’

  ‘And where have you requested to be placed? Murder Investigation?’

  ‘Yes. Is that going to be a problem? It’s going to be desk work for the first few weeks,’ he said.

  ‘I won’t make it a problem if you won’t. You know I think you’re a brilliant officer, and a valuable part of the team, any team.’

  ‘Thanks for the review.’

  ‘It wasn’t a review.’

  The rain was now pounding on the roof and they had reached the station. He thanked her for the lift, and got out.

  ‘James, wait,’ she blurted. He ducked down in the rain, peering through the car door. ‘Um, can we be…’

  ‘We can be friends,’ he said, the rain rapidly turning his coat a darker shade. ‘That’s what you were going to ask? Can we be friends?’

  ‘Yeah. I think it will be easier. It’s easier to just let things go. And I know Moss will be pleased.’

  He nodded, and blinked against the falling rain. ‘Look I have to go.’

  ‘OK, bye.’

  He slammed the door and ran off to the awning of Lewisham Station. Erika watched until he went inside. She was pleased to see him looking like his old self, and was pleased they had agreed to be friends. But that was easier said than done, working together with all their baggage.

 

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