by A. J. Cross
Mr Prentiss looked across at Watts. ‘If there’s anything else you need to ask, could we do it at another time?’
Watts and Judd stood. He walked them from the room, across the spacious hallway to the front door. Watts turned to him. ‘We’re very grateful to you for allowing us into your home at a time like this, Mr Prentiss. We’ll be contacting the people you’ve named, including Mr Roberts. Hopefully, they’ll give us details of other associates of Zoe’s we might speak to. One more thing: we need a recent full-face photograph of Zoe as a matter of urgency.’
Prentiss kept his voice low. ‘Of course. I’ll scan one to headquarters as soon as you leave.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t want to raise this in front of my wife and I feel uncomfortable doing so now, but I got an impression from Zoe a few weeks ago that Christian was involved in something, I don’t know how to put it … questionable.’
Watts waited. ‘Such as?’
‘She didn’t say. Perhaps I should have pressed her for details, but I was very reluctant to do so. I didn’t want to add to the situation between her and Christian.’
‘I understand, Mr Prentiss. Did Zoe say if this “questionable” issue related to his work?’
‘She didn’t, and I’d rather it wasn’t mentioned to him directly.’
‘When we do talk to Mr Roberts, we’ll be careful how we raise it with him. Finally, can you confirm your daughter’s use of Blackfoot Trail?’
‘You mean her running? She went there each week, same day, same time. Zoe was a very busy person. She thrived on routine. It helped her stay efficient.’
‘Who, apart from the family, knew that that was her routine?’
Prentiss thought about it. ‘I imagine Christian, her friends, everyone at her office would have known.’ As Watts turned to leave, Prentiss said, ‘Detective Inspector? A brief word about the young woman you’ve sent here to support us—’
‘Dad!’ They turned to Alec Prentiss walking towards them. Prentiss senior’s eyes slid away from Watts.
‘All I was going to say is that she’s very supportive. I want you to know that we appreciate it.’ Watts suspected that he’d had been about to say something very different. The fact that he’d bottled it strengthened the suspicion.
‘You’re welcome.’
‘Mom needs you.’ Alec watched his father walk back across the hall to the sitting room, go inside and close the door, then he turned to Watts. ‘You need help if you’re going to get whoever’s done this to Zoe and you’ve probably realized you won’t get it from him or Mom but I couldn’t say so in there. They’re upset enough as it is.’
Watts looked at him, nodded. ‘Can you help us out?’
Alec Prentiss lowered his voice, eyes fixed on the floor. ‘My sister was full of life … very full-on. She did what she wanted. It surprised me that she settled down to her law studies but’ – he shrugged – ‘she was clever and always knew what she wanted.’
Watts waited. ‘What did Zoe want?’
Prentiss looked at him. ‘Money. Things.’ He paused. ‘This is going to shock you but … I didn’t much like my sister. I was five years older but she had the upper hand with me right from the start. She took my stuff, money. I never said anything to Mom or Dad. No point really. By the time I reached twelve, thirteen, I’d learned how to deal with her and things got better between us.’ He sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I realized it was possible to dislike somebody but still admire them.’ He smiled. ‘Know what my mom always said about us? Zoe was more the son, and I … anyway, you get the picture.’
‘We’re grateful to you for telling us,’ said Watts.
Prentiss nodded. ‘I had to, because it’s what she was like and you need to know if you’re going to find whoever did this to her.’
‘We will, Alec.’
‘He has to be caught, punished for what he’s done.’
‘He will be.’
They were back inside the BMW, Watts thinking that Zoe Roberts’ efficiency, her love of routine had contributed to her death, and of all the people who were aware of her once-weekly run at Blackfoot Trail, her estranged husband fit two categories: family of a sort and work colleague, also of a sort. He thought of what the mother had said about her daughter’s death, that she’d crossed paths with a madman. Not a million miles away from what he’d anticipated from the parents, despite their not knowing about the remains of another woman found close by. He started the vehicle, glanced at Judd staring straight ahead. As much as her keenness got on his nerves, the distant look on her face was unsettling.
‘All right?’
She turned to him. ‘If Christian Roberts is on the take, it might explain why he’s making himself scarce. We need to track him down, get him into headquarters so we can hear what he’s got to say about it.’
Watts navigated his way through slow traffic. ‘If he is “on the take”, as you put it, are you also saying he attacked his estranged wife and cut off her head?’
‘You never know with people. She might have found out what he was up to and threatened him. She might have been narky about the direction their relationship was taking and he knew that if she opened her mouth he would be ruined.’
‘With you on the force, Judd, we can consider ourselves lucky there’s no capital punishment.’
She looked at him. ‘What did you make of what the mother said about Zoe?’
‘A natural response to the situation they’ve found themselves in.’
Judd rolled her eyes. ‘It’s a good job the brother opened his mouth to us because all we got from her was that Zoe Roberts walked on water!’ He gave her a quick glance, saw the flush on her face. ‘He’s thirty-something yet they talk to him like he’s fifteen—’
‘Thirty-five.’
‘What?’
‘Alec Prentiss is thirty-five. If you simmer down, I’ve got some advice about situations like the one we were just in. We accept what we get from the bereaved at face value until we know different and we don’t go straight to being arsy and suspicious.’
‘I’m not arsy—’
‘A bit more advice. It was obvious from your face when Christian Roberts’ name came up that you couldn’t wait to get into it. Don’t show people that something’s got your interest. Keep it casual.’ He watched her take out a pen. ‘What are you doing?’
She pulled out her notes. ‘Writing down what you just said.’
He looked away, thinking she was a bloody odd mix: impulsive, yet cautious and a lot more besides. She was looking at him again. ‘Got any ideas about this “questionable” thing Christian Roberts might have been into?’
‘None.’
She frowned at what she’d written. ‘Did you notice that they didn’t mention any friends Zoe made as an adult?’
‘They’re upset.’ Shaking his head, he drove on, trying to get a grip on why Mrs Prentiss’s description of her daughter had so annoyed Judd. ‘Annoyed’ wasn’t the right word. He frowned, searched for another. If it wasn’t ridiculous, if right now Roberts wasn’t lying in one of the refrigerated drawers inside the pathology suite at headquarters, a word he might have applied to her response was ‘jealous’.
Her voice came again. ‘They didn’t ask what was done to her, did they?’
He focused on making it across a busy junction. ‘Familial responses vary. Some demand to know everything, others avoid the specifics at this stage, partly because they’re in shock, partly because they think they can’t handle it. Mr Prentiss is no fool. My guess is he’s put two and two together but is protecting his family by not saying so. They’ll have seen press coverage about her being “attacked” and they’re going with that for now.’ He drove on. ‘The brother was open in telling us about his relationship with his sister, but what we need is information about her life beyond the family. I’ll give it a few days then ask him to come into headquarters for a chat. When he does, it could be a job for you.’
‘Just tell me when. Where are we going now?’
&nbs
p; ‘To headquarters to look at some tips that have come in.’ They’d be back at the scene later. They needed progress. Watts also wanted to know how Traynor was getting on.
EIGHT
Wednesday 17 August. Three p.m.
SOCOs and forensic officers were much in evidence as they walked the trail. Catching sight of two tall figures standing in the field next to it, Watts upped his speed, hoping for progress which the tips hadn’t yielded. Traynor turned as they approached, looking in a lot better shape than he had earlier. He’d changed into a fresh white shirt and khaki combats, an iPad in a red case at his side.
Watts nodded to him, then: ‘How’s it going, Adam?’
‘No more finds, but I’ve been showing Dr Traynor the crime scene and its surroundings, plus the location of the skull.’
Watts held out the evidence bag to Adam. ‘Zoe Roberts’ phone for processing.’ He looked at Traynor. ‘We need to talk motive. Without Annette Barlow’s body there’s no determining exactly what happened to her, but so far Dr Chong is saying there’s zero evidence of sexual activity on Roberts’ remains.’
Traynor’s eyes were fixed on the incline. ‘At this stage, sexual homicide is the motivation that’s a best fit. It’s possible that Roberts was subjected to sexual activity which left zero evidence.’
Watts knew this to be reasonable, based on what they had so far. ‘Got any observations from examining the scene?’
Traynor flipped the iPad cover, tapped the screen, tone brisk. ‘I’ve walked the whole area from the specific scene in the car park to the incline where the skull was located. I’ve followed the likely route Roberts’ killer took until the bloodspots ended. I’ve viewed the aerial photographs. Based on all of that, I’ve got some preliminary observations on Roberts’ killer, although they may well change, depending on new information becoming available. Those observations are limited by unknowns and uncertainties.’
Watts sensed Judd on high alert. ‘Give us the “knowns”,’ he said.
Traynor pointed in the direction of Blackfoot Trail. ‘Physical evidence indicates that having removed Roberts’ head, her killer took it and exited the car park, followed the trail, forced his way through the robust hedge running alongside and entered this field. His actions, so far as they can be determined from the limited physical evidence available, indicate to me that he was purposeful, fully in control of himself and his actions. He felt comfortable here. I doubt he was under the influence of any substances.’
Watts eyed him. Far from being the driven individual he’d seen at their first meeting, followed by what looked to be the wreck of a person he’d talked to that morning, this third reincarnation was a masterclass of astute analysis and cool critical thinking. ‘What you’re saying is, he isn’t some local nutter.’
‘At this stage, very unlikely. If we factor in the lack of defence injuries to the victim’s hands and arms, there is a possibility that he may have been known to Roberts.’ Watts ignored the elated look arriving on Judd’s face. ‘However, it’s equally possible that he was a stranger who presented as socially competent, whose general appearance and demeanour were such that he was able to approach her in these somewhat isolated surroundings without causing her immediate alarm or distress.’
Watts waited. ‘And?’
‘Indications of competence and self-control suggest that he’s an individual with the ability to plan his actions, which in turn suggests he’s of at least average intellect.’ Traynor gave the small screen a tap. ‘The timing of the murder, so early in the morning, could be an indication that he’s in employment.’
Listening to the cool, unemotional delivery, seeing Traynor’s attention fixed on the iPad, it occurred to Watts that some of what he’d said about Roberts’ killer could easily apply to Traynor. He told himself to ease up. What Traynor had just said was encouraging, more than Watts had dared hope for this early, but he had an issue with one aspect of it. ‘I’ve assumed that the timing of the murder was set by Zoe Roberts herself. She chose to be here at that hour because she had work afterwards. The fact that her killer was here might have nothing to do with his having a job or not. Unless you’re suggesting that he was somehow able to influence the time Roberts chose to run because he knew her, which isn’t backed up by anything her family has told us.’
Traynor looked unfazed. ‘I’m considering all possibilities. We don’t know that she always ran alone. It’s possible her killer saw her at the trail for the first time that day and it was an impulsive act on his part, although the fact that he had a weapon makes it more likely that he was in the area at that early hour with attack in mind. The indications of planning suggest the possibility that he had a specific interest in Zoe Roberts, that he’d observed her over a period of time, got to know her routine, maybe got to know her, but at this stage we should avoid developing any assumptions about him in relation to her. There are, of course, no guarantees in anything I’m suggesting.’
Watts glanced at Judd, her face perky, eyes shining. He eyed Traynor. ‘I’m leaning towards his having stalked her, but what you’re telling us, that he maintained his cool, his control, while stabbing Roberts to death and decapitating her would take some doing. Unless he’s somebody whose feet aren’t too closely attached to the planet.’
‘From what I’ve already said, it should be clear that this is a male who is well-integrated and on the planet.’
Their eyes locked.
‘OK,’ said Watts. ‘I get it. He’s no idiot, probably works, he might have stalked Roberts, he might even have got to know her. What else?’
‘If this was a situation where he had no prior knowledge of her, he wouldn’t have been able to predict how she might respond when she first saw him. By observing her prior to the attack he would have acquired data about the kind of individual she was, her likely responses.’ He frowned. ‘“Stalked” is a value-laden word, DI Watts. I prefer “observed”. Less emotive, wouldn’t you say?’
Watts said nothing. He’d already got plenty of ‘emotive’ images from this case, starting with the six knife-thrusts into Roberts’ chest and her killer walking away, her blonde ponytail grasped tight in one bloodied hand. He let his eyes drift over fields, hedges and trees. They were starting to look more familiar to him than his own desiccated patch of lawn. ‘Judd suggested a stalking element so I checked the PNC: no arrests or complaints relating to stalking in the area over the last two years.’
‘Do you want to hear what else I have?’
‘Carry on.’
‘If he took the murder weapon away with him, it’s a further indication of control and that he’s forensically aware.’ Seeing Watts about to respond, he nodded. ‘Only those who don’t care or, as you said earlier, are not on this planet, disregard forensics.’ His eyes returned to the screen. ‘He didn’t transport the victim’s body from the scene but left it more or less in full view.’ He frowned, stared ahead. ‘A single indicator of disorganization.’
‘Which tells us what?’
‘That we have a predominantly organized crime scene, except for one significant, disorganized feature. It might denote that he’s subject to variable moods.’
Watts was now slot-rattling between accepting much of what Traynor had offered so far and thinking that it sounded exactly like what Traynor had said it was: a lot of possibilities. He reminded himself that the forensic psychologist he used to work with had had a good line in robust pronouncements. He hadn’t liked a lot of those either. ‘So, what do we need to firm up, or otherwise, what you’ve said?’
‘More evidence.’
‘The team’s looking for it. It’s possible there might not be any.’
Traynor looked up from the small screen. ‘Let’s hope there is. What I’ve outlined is this killer’s likely behaviour around and towards Roberts. Both the skull at the incline and the Roberts homicide are geographically linked. Both were subjected to decapitation. Not a common behavioural feature of repeat homicides, by the way. Plus, it was risky. It took ti
me. It tells us that it was an activity this killer considered hugely important.’
Watts stared down at thick dust marking his suede shoes. ‘We’re agreed that Roberts and Barlow were both victims of the same killer?’
Traynor nodded. ‘It’s the likeliest theory. By the way, removal of heads, post-mortem, is ritualistic. The value in identifying a ritualistic sexual motive is that repeat killers tend to demonstrate a victim-preference in terms of age, physical appearance, lifestyle and so on. It could tell us something about how he regarded them, possibly where he first saw them. Unfortunately, given the absence of a body for one of these cases, and a head for the other, we’ll be reliant on photographs of both victims, plus biographical information from Annette Barlow’s family to help us establish any possible victim preference this killer has. We need the photographs as a matter of urgency.’
Watts took out his phone, jabbed a number. His call rang out briefly inside the squad room. ‘Have we received the recent photo of Zoe Roberts her family said they’d send over? Good. Get it blown up, put it on the whiteboard, send a copy to my phone and another to the Smartboard downstairs in my office, plus one to Dr Traynor’s phone. What about a photo of Annette Barlow? … Right. Tell them to get a move on. We need to be talking to her family, pronto.’ He cut the call. ‘The lads are still trying to contact Annette Barlow’s family.’
Traynor pointed in the direction of the car park. ‘One current homicide there, head taken, body left in situ, and’ – he pointed towards the incline – ‘one skull found there, whereabouts of body unknown. Question: why those differences?’ He took a few steps, his eyes focused on the specific area. ‘Right now, I doubt we’re seeing his whole homicidal career.’