‘You think so?’
‘We’ve been checking the ballistics of the shot. We’ve now found the bullet, so we’ve an idea of what sort of gun it was and where it was fired. I don’t pretend to understand the technical details but it was fired from some distance away from the protest itself, probably from near the corner of an adjacent street. The ballistics guy even reckoned that it might not have been intended to hit at all. The angle suggests it was probably intended to be fired over the heads of the protestors and Ms Pearson. One possibility is that, because the crowd had drawn closer, the shooter misjudged the angle and aimed too low.’ He shrugged. ‘But that’s just guesswork, really. The real question is whether the two shots were fired by the same individual, or whether the second was a more calculated attempt to feed off the publicity. We’re waiting for confirmation, but now we’re able to compare the bullets, it does look as if both shots could have been fired from the same weapon.’
Annie nodded. ‘The other question is whether the intention was actually to kill Sheena or just intimidate her.’
‘Exactly. That feels marginally more likely at the moment, but that’s really nothing more than gut instinct.’
‘You mean that if they’d really wanted to kill Sheena, they’d have succeeded by now?’
‘I wouldn’t have put it quite like that,’ Dwyer said.
‘For what it’s worth, I think you’ve got a point. We both know only too well that it’s not too difficult to kill someone if you’ve got the means and the will. Whoever’s doing this – if it’s one person – obviously has the means. So either they lack the will or they’ve just been unlucky. But last night’s email suggests it might be more about intimidation than a serious intent to kill.’
‘Which doesn’t mean she shouldn’t take the threats seriously. But you know that.’
‘I know that. And I’ll make sure Sheena remembers it. Any luck with tracing the email?’
‘Not so far. I’m not too hopeful, to be honest. It’s a bit like the CCTV at the hospital. Whoever sent the email knew what they were doing. The IT people are giving it their best shot but they didn’t seem too optimistic. They’re also trying to see if it matches any of the other emails sent to her in recent days, but most of those seem to have just been from idiots who made no serious attempt to conceal their identities.’
Annie looked at her watch. ‘I’d better be getting on. I’ve got Zoe Everett waiting in town for me.’
‘This the sacrificial bodies case? Weird stuff.’
‘Don’t know about sacrificial, but it’s weird all right. We certainly seem to be getting them at the moment, don’t we?’
Dwyer gave a grim smile. ‘It’s because the fates discovered that Stuart Jennings thought he was transferring over here for a quiet life. That’ll teach him.’
‘Something like that.’ She pushed herself to her feet. ‘Good luck, Andy. You heading out to Sheena this morning?’
‘That’s the plan. If you think she’s up to it.’
‘She’s more than up to it. We both just want to go back to our normal lives. If there’s anything else you need from me, just let me know. I don’t want to do anything inappropriate, but I’m happy to give all the help I can.’
‘Thanks, Annie. We’ll put everything into it, you know. We’re not going to let this bastard get away.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know that.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Nice place,’ Annie said. ‘Characterful.’
‘It’s a hidden gem,’ Zoe agreed. ‘They do a mean bacon roll and tea you can stand your spoon up in. You want anything?’
Annie looked around them. Zoe had directed her to this backstreet greasy spoon on the outskirts of Derby city centre. It looked like the kind of place that would serve hefty, unpretentious food, much of it deep-fried, at rock-bottom prices. Not that there was much wrong with that, she thought. It was clearly an opinion shared by the diverse clientele filling most of the other tables. ‘The bacon roll sounds enticing, but I’ll pass for the moment. This a regular haunt, Zoe?’
‘Used to be, funnily enough, back when I was on the beat. I’d sometimes pop in for a coffee at the beginning or end of a shift. If you want to know what’s going on in this neighbourhood, Georgio’s your man.’ She gestured towards the middle-aged man with slick black hair who was standing behind the counter. ‘He still gives me a discount.’
‘Fair enough. I knew there had to be a reason we were here.’
‘Apart from the fact that it’s just round the corner from where Parkin lived? That was my main motive. Thought Georgio might be able to give me some background.’
‘And could he?’
‘Didn’t know Parkin, or at least didn’t know the name. But he knew the street and he knew the house. They’re all terraces that have mostly been converted into flats or shared residences. Georgio reckoned they’re mostly owned by one company, let mainly to students or young professionals. Decent places, he said. Better than they looked from the outside. When I described Parkin’s circumstances, he seemed surprised that Parkin would have been able to afford to live there.’
‘It’s not exactly the most upmarket area,’ Annie said.
‘One of those the estates described as “up-and-coming”. But it’s getting more expensive, apparently, partly because it’s relatively close to the city centre.’
‘Did Georgio know anything about the landlords?’
‘Not really. But I was thinking about what you said about access, and I’ve done a bit of digging while I was waiting for you. Took a walk down there and saw a couple of the flats had “To Let” signs on them. They all seem to be managed by the same agency. Including Parkin’s. So I took the liberty of calling them to see if someone could give us entry.’
Annie raised an eyebrow. ‘Good work. What did they say?’
‘I told him we were police and that we had reason to believe that something might have happened to the occupant. Said we didn’t want to force an entry if we could avoid it, so if they were able to send someone round…’
Annie smiled. ‘So they think something might have happened to the occupant actually inside the flat?’
Zoe shrugged. ‘I didn’t say that. But I suppose it might be possible they assumed it.’
‘Certainly quicker for us than taking a more formal route. You’ve got hidden depths, Zoe, you know that?’
‘If you say so. We’d better get round there, actually. The guy reckoned he’d be about fifteen minutes.’
Annie shook her head. ‘Just remind me never to buy a used car from you.’
* * *
Spring was on its way, but it was still a chilly afternoon. The young man wore no overcoat over his cheap-looking suit. He was standing outside the house, hopping from foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.
Zoe called out, ‘Bryce?’
The young man blinked. ‘Yeah. I’m Bryce Scott. From the agency. I was expecting the police.’
‘We are the police,’ Annie said. ‘DI Annie Delamere and DS Zoe Everett.’
The two women held out their ID for Scott to check. He peered closely at the cards for a minute and then looked up. ‘It’s just that I was expecting—’
‘That we’d be in uniform? We can explain once we’re inside.’ Annie was determined not to lose the opportunity Zoe had created.
‘Yes, of course.’ Scott pulled out a large bunch of keys and began fumbling with the lock. ‘You said that you thought something might have happened to Mr Parkin…’
‘Best to wait till we’re inside.’
‘It’s just that I don’t want to intrude on Mr Parkin’s privacy without knowing—’
‘Trust me, Mr Scott. Mr Parkin won’t mind.’
Scott finally succeeded in opening the door, leading them into a narrow hallway. The house was a tall, narrow terrace, not dissimilar to the place where Jonny Garfield was living. It looked relatively well-decorated and maintained.
‘Mr Parkin’s is the ground-floo
r flat,’ Scott said. He looked nervously at the door in front of them. ‘You think he might be…?’
‘You can open the door,’ Annie said. ‘You don’t need to worry.’
Clearly unsure how else to respond, Scott did as he was told. He stepped back as Annie and Zoe made their way past him into the interior of the flat.
The door opened directly into the living room. Annie stepped inside and then stopped, staring around her. ‘Zoe. Come see.’
As in Garfield’s flat, the room had a small kitchen area at one end. The remainder of the room was relatively sparsely furnished, with just a sofa, a small television, a low central table, a small dining table under the window and a couple of high-backed dining chairs. The difference was the walls. They’d been decorated with an array of posters and artwork. Annie recognised some of the prints as copies of artwork by Bosch and Brueghel. Others were clearly similar classical artworks, some of them vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t name the artists.
All appeared to be depictions of hell.
Interspersed among them were pictures of various symbols. There were pentagrams and similar symmetrical symbols, some apparently runic symbols, and even a couple of ornate swastikas.
The dining table held a number of books. Judging from their covers and titles, they appeared to relate to similar esoteric material to that implied by the wall decorations. None of this was remotely what she’d expected from everything she’d heard about Darren Parkin.
‘Jesus,’ she heard Scott say from behind her. ‘What’s he done to the place?’
She turned to see Zoe staring at the display open-mouthed, her face ashen as her eyes darted between the various images. She looked as if she was on the point of fainting.
‘You okay, Zoe?’
Zoe looked at her as if she’d barely understood what Annie had said. ‘Do you mind if I go outside for a breath of air? I just feel a bit…’ She left the sentence hanging if she had no idea how to finish it.
‘No, of course. I’ll have a look round in here.’
Zoe stumbled back to the front door and stood on the step, her back to the interior of the house.
Annie returned her attention to the room, sure now that Zoe’s reaction had been a response to these images. There’d be time to explore that later, but for now she was wondering more about the significance of what they’d found.
As if echoing her thoughts, Scott said, ‘So what’s this all about?’
‘The first thing to tell you, Mr Scott, is that Darren Parkin is dead.’
‘Dead? But your colleague—’
‘He’s dead, Mr Scott. We believe he was murdered.’
‘Jesus.’ He stared past her at the display of posters. ‘But all this stuff— I mean…’
‘Your guess is as good as mine, Mr Scott. I’m afraid I’m not yet at liberty to give any more information about the cause and nature of Darren Parkin’s death.’
Scott gestured towards a door at the far end, which presumably led to a bedroom. ‘He’s not…?’
‘No, he’s not. He was killed elsewhere. It’s taken us a short while to identify him and obtain his home address. How long’s he been living here?’
‘Couple of months. He seemed okay. Didn’t quibble about the deposit. Was all a bit academic anyway, because he was recommended as a tenant by the landlords.’
‘By the landlords? Is that common?’
‘It’s a happened a few times. They’ve got their fingers in a few different pies and they employ a fair few people. Sometimes they’re looking for accommodation for people who work for them. I guess this was one of those. Anyway, they were willing to act as guarantors so it’s easy for us. If anything goes wrong, they can’t really complain. The only pain for us is that they’re usually on shorter leases than our regular clients, but again we can’t really do much about that if the landlords are happy with it.’
‘What about Parkin? Was he on a short lease?’
‘Just three months. We usually insist on at least six.’
Annie nodded. ‘I’ll need to get details from you once we finish here.’ She pointed towards the bedroom door. ‘Do you mind if I have a look?’
‘Be my guest.’
She pushed open the bedroom door and peered inside. The bedroom was tiny and, at first sight, much more conventionally decorated than the living room. There was a Derby County poster, similar to the one they’d seen in Garfield’s flat, but few other decorations. Beyond that, the room contained nothing but a single bed and a small bedside table. A further door led into what she assumed to be a shower room.
The bedside table held a pile of books that appeared similar in content to those on the table in the living room. There was also a small framed print of one of the pentagram-style symbols depicted on one of the living room posters. Whatever its significance, it had clearly meant something to Parkin.
She stepped across the room and pushed open the door of the shower room. It contained a shower, a small sink and a lavatory, and seemed unremarkable. She didn’t want to disturb the scene any more than she could avoid, in case it should yield any useful forensic material, but she paused for a moment to take a photograph of the bedside table and books before returning to the living room. Again, she stopped and carefully took photographs of the walls and the books on the table. She’d get the place properly searched later. For the moment, she just wanted an opportunity to find out more about these various esoteric materials.
‘We’re going to have to get this place sealed off and properly examined by our forensics team,’ she said to Scott. ‘We can get authorisation for that, but it’s easiest if everyone just cooperates.’
‘I’ll tell them back at the office. We’ll need to inform the landlords.’
‘Might be better if we do that, Mr Scott. If Parkin was working for them, we’ll need to talk to them in any case. If we can come back to the office with you, we can get the details.’ She followed Scott back out into the hallway. Zoe was still standing outside the front door, her back to them. ‘Anything else you can tell us about Darren Parkin, Mr Scott?’
‘Not really. I only met him a couple of times. Once when he came in to sign the various documents and once when he collected the keys.’
‘What was your impression of him?’
‘Not much, really. He was very quiet. Hardly said a word when he came in. I’m not being disrespectful, but he didn’t strike me as the brightest. Not the type to be interested in all that kind of stuff, anyway.’ He jerked his thumb in the direction of the room behind them.
‘People are full of surprises, I guess. Okay, we’d better get this place locked up. How far’s your office?’
‘Just round the corner really. Five minutes.’
While Scott locked the flat behind them, Annie crossed to the front door. ‘You okay, Zo?’
Zoe turned to greet her. ‘Yes. Fine. Just a bit stuffy in there.’ She was making an effort to smile, but the expression in her eyes belied her words. The vivaciousness evident at the cafe just a short while earlier was nowhere to be seen. Now, Zoe was closed down.
‘Just want a quick catch-up with my colleague,’ Annie said to Scott. ‘We’ll be over in a few minutes.’ She gestured up at a ‘To Let’ sign on a neighbouring house with the agency name on it. ‘Assume that’s you?’
‘That’s us. We look after most of these. It’s all the same landlords.’
‘The same as Parkin’s place?’
‘It’s a sizeable operation. We’re starting to get a bit nervous they’ll set up their own management function. They’re probably getting big enough to justify it. But don’t let them know I suggested it.’
‘Must be raking it in,’ Annie said. ‘Okay, we’ll be along in a few minutes.’
‘I’ll have the info waiting.’ Scott waved to them, then set off down the street, whistling tunelessly.
Annie turned back to Zoe. ‘You sure you’re okay, Zo? I don’t want to be rude, but you don’t really look it.’
‘I’m
fine. Really. Just a bit tired.’
It didn’t feel like this was really the moment, standing in the cold on this featureless backstreet, but Annie felt she’d already delayed the conversation too long. ‘You’re not yourself, Zo. It’s obvious. Even Stuart Jennings has noticed, and he’s about as sensitive as a comatose rhino. What’s wrong?’
‘I—’ For a moment, Zoe looked as if she might be about to answer the question, but she stopped. ‘I don’t want to talk about it. Not here. Not now.’
‘Not to me?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You’ve a point, though. I’m your boss as well as – well, your friend, I hope. I have to juggle both roles. As your boss, I’m concerned because I can see this, whatever it is, could affect your performance.’
‘It won’t—’
‘It already is, Zoe. You didn’t want to stay in the room back there. Stuart reckoned you behaved oddly when the two of you were out on the moors. Whatever is going on is already affecting your ability to do your job.’ She paused, wondering how best to phrase all this. ‘So, as your boss, I’m concerned about that. As your friend, I just want to help you deal with whatever the issue is. Because I’ve got to wear both hats, I know I might not be the best person for this. But you’ve got to talk to someone.’
There were tears welling in Zoe’s eyes. ‘I can’t talk about it. I’m not even really sure what it is.’
‘But you were affected by the images that Parkin had in there?’
‘I don’t know. Look, Annie, I know you want to help. But it’s not something I can talk about. Certainly not here or now.’
‘Have you spoken to Gary about it?’
‘He couldn’t help. He means well, but…’
‘Do you want me to try to arrange some counselling?’
‘No. It’s nothing to do with work. I don’t want to start bringing my problems into the office.’
Annie wanted to say that it was a little late for that, but she knew that would get them nowhere. ‘I can’t force you to do anything, Zoe. But I don’t want to reach a point where I have to take formal action. I’m here to listen and I’m here to help, if I can. That’s all I can say.’
Small Mercies Page 17