by M A Comley
“Like you do,” she replied sarcastically.
The four of them continued into the station and up the stairs to the incident room. Sally immediately went to the whiteboard and began jotting down notes of what the team had acquired, which amounted to very little.
“Jack, will you ring Leona’s friend to check her alibi, please? Stuart, ring the bakery where Colin works to see if he was on duty at the time the incident occurred last night. Jordan, will you do the same with the butcher’s where Mark works? Thanks, guys. I’ll be in the office, going over the files. I have a niggling doubt we’re missing something vital here.”
Thirty minutes passed before her partner popped his head round the door to her office. “Just to inform you that everyone’s alibi checked out, adding to our frustration.”
“Grr… not what I wanted to hear. Come in, take a seat for a second.”
He threw his weary frame into the chair. “How about you? Did you manage to find the clue that has been bugging you?”
“Nope. It’s here somewhere. It has to be. I’m going to take the file home with me this evening.”
“What about Mark? You think we should haul his arse in for questioning?”
“I’m going to have to run that particular scenario past the chief before I leave. We’re buggered on that front if his alibi checks out.”
“Maybe someone is just keen to cover his back at the butcher’s.” He shrugged. “I don’t know; I’m just throwing it out there.”
“I doubt they clock in and out at a butcher’s like they do at a supermarket, so there’s a possibility your suggestion is plausible. Ugh… it’s all so frustrating. Two pregnant wives, two deaths. A lot of planning could have gone into this. It would be easy for Mark to bung someone a fifty to cover for him, wouldn’t it?” she asked.
“We’ve certainly seen every trick in the book played out over the years. Why should his alibi be discounted? He’s got to be in pole position to be our main suspect after dismissing Colin and Leona from our enquiries, hasn’t he?”
She inhaled a large breath and reclined in her chair. “I have to agree with you. I wonder if SOCO asked him for his clothes.”
“What he was wearing last night? Not sure that would help any. If this crime has been seriously thought out, one of the major points would be for him to cover his tracks where the deceased’s blood is concerned, right?”
“You’re right. It would be natural for the husband to cradle his dying wife, transferring any blood onto his own clothes in the process, either intentionally or unintentionally. But then, look at the state of the room, the blood spatter. Evidence of that would show up on his clothes, wouldn’t it?” Sally picked up the phone and dialled the forensic department. “Hello. Is Simon available for a quick chat? It’s DI Parker.”
“He’s just finishing a PM now. I’ll let him know you’re waiting.”
“Thanks.”
Both Sally and Jack drummed their fingers on the desk while waiting for the pathologist to answer the call.
“Hello, Inspector, again.”
“Sorry to trouble you. It is important, I promise. When the SOCO team were at the Whiting house today, did they ask the hubby for his clothes?”
Jack mouthed something at her.
She covered the mouthpiece to the phone and asked, “What?”
Jack leaned forward. “And the mother’s and daughter’s clothes, while they’re at it.”
“Actually, my partner has just raised a fair point. Add the mother’s and daughter’s clothes to that question, too.”
“Let me check the list of evidence they left on my desk. Hold the line.”
Sally rolled her eyes up to the ceiling as she waited.
“Umm… no, they didn’t. I’ll be having a word with them about that. Want me to send someone back out there to get them?”
“No. Leave it to me. I have evidence bags here. I’ll gather what you need and deliver them to you myself first thing. Thanks, Simon, have a good evening.”
“Not much hope of that. Three car-crash victims just descended on me.”
“Oops… sorry. I’ll be in touch soon.” She replaced the phone in its docking station and chewed on her thumbnail. “Now, do we go out there and just pick up the clothes, or do we bring Mark in for questioning tonight?”
“I don’t mind putting in some overtime. Maybe run it past the chief first.”
She scraped back her chair and rushed along the corridor to the chief’s office. He was just leaving his office with his secretary. “Sir, glad I caught you. Can you spare me two minutes, please?”
He turned to his secretary. “You go ahead, Lyn. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Sally followed him into the office. “Sorry, sir. I have a dilemma that I need to run past you.” She told him what was on her mind.
“I see. How sure are you that this man has committed these crimes, Inspector?”
“That’s the dilemma, sir—I’m not. Everything keeps leading me to suspect Mark Whiting, though.”
“Can you simply ask him to come in for questioning in that case?”
“I could. But how do I get around the issue of asking him to hand over his clothes for examination?”
The chief tutted and clicked his tongue. “Bluff it. Say that it’s a usual part of an enquiry. I agree it’s a tough call. If you arrest him and he turns out to be innocent, the complaints authority will drop the axe on your neck.”
“Yes, sir. But then look at the evidence we have already: two wives, both recently pregnant, whether they knew it or not, killed either in the marital home or within a few hundred metres of it, at least. That can be counted as significant, surely?”
“It certainly sounds it to me. Can you place his car at the original scene, perhaps through CCTV footage or a witness account?”
“No, we never located the car involved in Gemma Whiting’s murder.”
“Then I think you should tread carefully. Bring him in for questioning, and this could all hinge on the clothes. If he gives you permission to examine them there, perhaps that proves his innocence. If he objects, then that should raise a red flag.”
“Thank you, sir. Jack and I will head over there now. I’ll let you know how things go in the morning.”
“You do that. Good luck.”
Sally was deep in thought when she re-entered the incident room. Something important was pricking her mind enough to make her revisit the file sitting on her desk. She flipped it open, and there it was—the infuriating missing piece of the puzzle. Her heart pounded as she raced through the incident room. “With me, Jack. Make it snappy. We’ve got a murderer to arrest.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Why? Why do you always bloody do this to me?” Jack complained, crossing his arms in the car during the journey to Mark Whiting’s house.
“What? Keep you in suspense? Because I love torturing you. Honestly, your face is always a picture when I work out who the murderer is without letting you in on the secret. That, in my book, is priceless.”
“You know what? Sometimes you can be as sick as some of the psychos we hunt down on a daily basis,” he mumbled grumpily.
Once the car had descended into silence, Sally used the time to plan her approach. She was confident enough to go right in there and make the arrest, but she always enjoyed it when the murderers slipped up and revealed their guilt.
The same two cars from before were in the driveway when Sally pulled up at the Whiting house. She glanced sideways as she passed, a satisfied smile threatening to erupt. She kept it in check, keen not to give anything away to her partner at this stage.
Mark Whiting welcomed them, sore, red eyes the prominent feature of his pale face. “Inspector?” he gasped. “You’ve found him? You’ve discovered who the burglar—I mean, killer is?”
“Can we come in, Mr. Whiting?”
He pushed open the door, and Sally and Jack followed him through to the kitchen, where his mother and Samantha were reading a book together. Y
vette looked up, frowning in puzzlement.
Sally smiled at the woman caring for her granddaughter. “Samantha, sweetheart, can you go and play in your room for a little bit while my partner and I talk to Daddy and Grandma?”
Samantha swept up the book and ran out of the room without uttering a word. Yvette looked miffed by Sally’s interference of her precious time with her granddaughter. “Why are you here?” Yvette demanded harshly.
“Well, for a start, I’ve come to ask you all if you’ll give me the clothes you were wearing at the time of Kathy’s death?” Sally asked, giving the woman a smile.
“For what reason?” Mark asked, taking a seat next to his mother.
“Purely for evidential purposes. I received a call from SOCO, saying they had forgotten to obtain the clothes when they were here. I told them I would drop by on my way home this evening.”
“Evidence? You still suspect me of carrying out these heinous crimes, don’t you?” Mark asked, shaking his head in sheer disbelief.
“It’s merely part of the investigation. If you object, Mark, then it will certainly raise suspicions.”
“I have nothing to hide. My clothes will be full of my wife’s blood because I held her, soothed her until the paramedics arrived.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be sure to note that down. How about you, Yvette?”
“How about me what?” Yvette asked.
“Did you try to comfort Kathy before Mark arrived?”
“No! I was too busy caring for my granddaughter. The last thing I wanted was for her to see her step-mother in that state.”
“Of course, we’ll still need your clothes.”
“I don’t see why. I’ve already told you—”
“For God’s sake, Mum, just do it. I don’t want all this bloody hassle. Just give them what they want so that I can grieve in peace, for fuck’s sake,” Mark said, his eyes boring into his defiant mother’s.
“Where are your clothes, Yvette?” Sally asked.
“Upstairs. I frequently stop over, so I keep a few spare outfits in Samantha’s wardrobe. Little girls are known to be accident-prone at times, Inspector. It’s always best to be prepared for such incidents.”
Sally pondered why the woman would need to go into detail like that. She smiled and nodded. “Very wise. Are you intending to stay the night here with Samantha?”
“Yes, of course.”
“That’s great. Mark, I’d like you to accompany us to the station to answer a few more questions, if you’re up to it?”
“I’m not. But if it’ll help in your quest to capture the murderer quickly, then I’m willing to put myself out to help your cause.”
“That’s kind of you. It makes our job so much easier having compliant interviewees. One question, if I may?”
Mark inclined his head. “What’s that?”
“The cream car outside, who does it belong to?” Sally’s eyes left Mark and drifted sideways in his mother’s direction.
“That’s Mum’s car. Why?”
Yvette pushed her chair back and tucked it under the table. “I’ll go and get the clothes you need. They’re all in the washing basket. I didn’t have the heart to do the washing today. Samantha needed me.”
Sally nodded and let the woman leave the room. “I don’t remember your mother’s car being here when we were investigating Gemma’s death. Is it new?”
“I told her after the crash she had around six months ago that she should get a new car, but she insisted she wanted to keep it as it’s a good runner.”
“A crash, you say? Did someone run into the back of her car perhaps?” Sally asked innocently.
“No. She ran into the back of someone else’s car.”
“Oh, dear, that’s a shame. Did the insurance cover the cost of repairs?”
Mark shrugged. “I can’t remember. I think she covered the cost herself rather than lose her no-claims bonus.”
“That makes sense.” Sally heard the woman’s footfall on the stairs and watched the door, waiting for her to enter. Instead, the front door creaked open. Sally’s eyes widened as she stared at her partner. “Go after her, Jack.”
“What? Why?” her partner asked, confused.
“Just do it! Before she gets away. Drag her back in here if you have to. Go!”
Jack bolted from the room. Sally heard a car start up on the drive and Jack shouting at the woman to get out of the car.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” Mark objected, running into the hall.
“Come with me. Ask your mother to return to the house, Mark.”
They ran outside to see Jack gripping the car door as the vehicle reversed off the drive. Inside the car sat a seething Yvette, with Samantha strapped into the seat beside her, looking scared.
“Mum, what are you doing? Get out of the car. Where are you taking Samantha?” Mark tried to grapple with Jack to get into the car himself, but it was pointless.
Yvette achieved her aim, reversed off the drive, and crunched into first gear.
“Stop her!” Sally shouted. Yvette’s smile was akin to many evil smiles she’d witnessed from killers over the years. “Stop the car before she drives off with Samantha. Jack, use your knife. Puncture the damn tyre. Do not let her escape.”
Jack withdrew the penknife Sally knew he kept in his waistband for emergencies and pierced a large hole in the rear tyre closest to him. It didn’t prevent Yvette from driving off as Sally had predicted it would. Jack ran after the car while Sally turned to a bemused Mark. “You had no idea your mother was capable of this?”
Not taking his eyes off the car, he replied, “Do you really think I would have left my child in her care if I’d known?”
The car turned into another road, and almost immediately, Sally heard a crunching noise. She and Mark sprinted and caught up with Jack, who was staring at the two mangled cars, one of which was empty. “Jack! Are they all right? Do we need to call an ambulance? Get in there and help them! Thank God no one else was involved.”
Jack tried to open the driver’s door, but that was impossible, as it had concertinaed in the collision.
Mark was pounding on the passenger window. “Open this door, Mum, or I’ll break the window. Let me get Samantha to safety.”
The passenger door sprang open, and a sobbing Samantha shot out of the car and into her father’s arms.
“Take her inside the house, Mark,” Sally ordered, not wishing the girl to see what was about to happen to her grandmother.
Jack held open the passenger door and peered inside the car. “Give it up, Yvette. Taking off like that has just proven your guilt.”
Yvette clambered across the front seats and emerged from the car, reaching an arm out in front of her. “Samantha, I love you. I did all this for you!”
Mark upped his pace and quickly disappeared around the corner.
“Really? You can’t help yourself, can you? Even at the end, your twisted mind has to apportion the blame elsewhere. You really think your grandchild will be able to live a happy life hearing those damning words?” Sally asked the woman.
Yvette’s expression was one of complete and utter confusion. “It’s true. Those women wanted to take Samantha away from me. They had no right to do that.”
“No right? So you thought you’d punish not only Gemma and Kathy, but their unborn children, as well. Was that the trigger? Once you found out both of them were expecting, you thought you’d punish them?”
With Yvette suddenly lost for words, her head dipped onto her chest. Sally threw her arms out to the side in frustration. “You disgust me. Jack, read her rights to her and get her out of my bloody sight.”
Jack withdrew his cuffs. Sally turned and walked back towards the house to check on Mark and Samantha. When she walked into the kitchen, she found Samantha sitting on her father’s lap. Both were clinging to each other, sobbing.
“You’re safe now, Samantha. Daddy will look after you now,” Sally said, relieved that neither of them had been h
armed physically by his mother’s shenanigans.
“Why? Why did she do it?” Mark asked, looking up at Sally, his eyes riddled with anguish.
“Let me get your mother to the station. I’ll let her stew overnight in a cell and question her first thing. Try and get some rest. I regret thinking this was all down to you, Mark.”
“What changed?” he asked.
“Something my boss said earlier about the car involved in Gemma’s death. Today was the first time I’ve seen your mother’s car. It wasn’t here when we investigated the first case, so I couldn’t make the connection. Obviously, I’ll need to get forensics to check the car over, but even if it has been repaired, we can still find evidence to convict someone. We still have Gemma’s car to match up the paintwork. Can you tell me which garage your mother uses?”
“Yes, Jenson’s garage in town.” He ran a hand over his daughter’s face. “Do you think she would have eventually turned on me?”
Sally shrugged. “I have no idea. She is overly obsessed with Samantha for some reason. There’s no telling what she would have been capable of, come the end. Try to rest now, both of you. I’ll be in touch soon, okay? By the way, you might want to let your brother know what’s going on, just to put his and Leona’s minds at ease.”
“I will. I think I have a lot of making up to do there. I know he and Gemma… well, you know. But I’m willing to forgive and forget about that and get on with our lives. Gemma’s death has always been a wedge between us.”
Sally smiled and nodded. “I’ll be in touch soon.”
She walked outside, stood on the doorstep, and sucked in a lungful of fresh air before she made her way over to the car. Sally had a feeling the journey back to the station was going to be filled with venomous remarks from Yvette, who would be more than likely keen to blame the others, rather than accept full responsibility for her despicable actions.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The following morning, Sally turned up at the station in a buoyant mood, her arms laden with copious notes which she’d jotted down overnight in preparation for the interview of Yvette Whiting that would take place first thing.