An Urgent Murder

by Alex Winchester

  Parking it in one of the visitor’s bays by John’s flat which always seemed to have spaces, he locked it and gained access to the foyer by pressing the tradesman’s bell. Climbing the stairs, he tapped on the door. Carol let him in and he joined her and John in the lounge finishing off a vintage bottle of Bordeaux. The rucksack was unpacked by Carol who confirmed that Alison would probably be wide awake the following afternoon and craving food. She tossed Petrovski’s phone to him which he caught one handed as he’d forgotten he’d left it in the bag. He still managed to be in bed by 2am and had no intention of getting up to go jogging in the morning.

  It was just past seven and Simon was wide awake. He lay in bed scheming and plotting and considering his options until gone eight. Then he knew exactly what he was going to do. He needed to speak to Graham, John, and Ian but not on a mobile phone. John had already left for the Police Station and would not be about until the evening. After an apple and yogurt for breakfast, he spoke to Carol and then walked to the Post Office in Chichester and using a pay phone called his Dad.

  Carol let him back into the flat about 9am, and he went in to see Alison who was now inexplicably wide awake, contrary to what Carol had expected. She was conscious twelve hours too early. All the clothes that he’d brought were laid out on the bed and she had been discussing them with Carol. Now she had the culprit before her she started.

  “Why didn’t you bring my black jacket, and these jeans are my oldest. I can’t wear beige shoes with these. How could you get it so wrong?”

  “Recovered now have you?”

  “You are totally useless. I put my trust in you and you can’t even find matching underwear in a girl’s drawers.”

  Carol who had been standing behind Simon said, “She has a point. Beige shoes with jeans really should be a no no.”

  Simon retaliated by changing the subject and told Alison that her Father was likely to be visiting which did nothing to endear himself to her or improve her mood.

  When Simon added that there was going to be a meeting in the flat that night, Carol said she’d have to go out for more food. Asking her when she was next at work, Carol told him she was off for the next week on compassionate grounds. She had not had to divulge any details which had been a blessing as she hated lying.

  Alison chirruped in, “You weren’t very compassionate pulling and prodding bits of me and sticking needles all over the place. Then trying to drown me by pouring water over me.”

  Simon smiling provocatively said, “Always moaning. No gratitude.”

  He left the room before she could form a cogent insulting reply. Instead she turned on Carol.

  “Mix with these people at your peril. Your life gets ripped to shreds.”

  “You could be right there. One thing though: it’s never dull.”

  Petrovski’s phone rang. Simon looked at the display. He wanted quiet so went into the kitchen and pushed the door to before he answered.

  “Yes?”

  There was an imperceptible pause before Grigoriev said, “So Petrovski has joined the others?”

  “May have done.”

  “Impressive. Where have you put them all?”

  “The ditch. They won’t be found in a hurry unless you want to dig them up.”

  “No. I don’t think I will.”

  “You know I’m going to be coming for you?”

  “If you can actually find me, I shall be waiting.”

  “It won’t be long.”

  The line went dead.

  *

  Vilf was walking along the prom towards his stolen car. It was unusually quiet for the time of day with the occasional cyclists riding furiously towards unknown destinations, or joggers with ear buds in looking at the pavement and seeing nothing as they ran nowhere and then back. About a hundred yards in front of him he noticed a small man throw something at the sea wall. It seemed to shatter and break into pieces. As he got closer, he saw the little man bend and pick up a small piece and drop it over the sea wall. The small man turned and jumped down and onto the road. Vilf knew then who it was. He wouldn’t lose him this time.

  *

  Carol who had overheard nearly all Simon’s end of the conversation as she was walking towards the kitchen to get a fresh glass of water and a yogurt for Alison said, “You certainly know how to make friends. Just off hand, how many are actually in the ditch?”

  “Only three. I let Petrovski go back to Russia.”

  “I don’t really need to ask what regiment you were with do I.”

  “No”

  Carol had picked up two yogurts and they went back into the spare bedroom.

  Carol asked of him quizzically, “Has John got any normal friends?”

  “He’s got you and Alison.”

  Practically in unison the women said, “Huh!”

  112

  Friday 17th June 2011

  John had somehow managed to get into the canteen at 7.20am and found himself at the rear of a queue of eight people, yet still got his breakfast first. The cook, cum chef, gave him a big wink as she handed the full plate to him. Offering excessive gratitude, he tucked in. The previous night’s meal now all but forgotten.

  Subsequently, he was in the office in plenty of time to have a chat to Groves, Jimmy, Paul and Doreen. They came to what they believed to be the logical conclusion, having all watched the video from the bird box several times, that whoever had done for George knew the camera was there. All had ignored the premise that they should only accept as fact, what they knew for certain.

  It was the wrong conclusion!

  It was agreed that Groves should press Gary as to who else knew about the bird box, and the known fact, it was also his coat that the murderer was using as a disguise.

  Prodow arrived in the office early and confused all of them except John when he said, “At least one problem seems to have been resolved.”

  At 7.55am he addressed those in the office.

  “Let’s get this meeting underway” and he practically marched out of the room with all the others in tow like a line of ducklings following their parent.

  He arrived in the briefing room slightly prior to eight. People were sitting about chatting to each other, eating breakfast rolls of sausages and bacon and drinking coffee and tea. It was starting to look like a worrying habit of his to arrive on time. If people could no longer be sure of his quarter of an hour’s leeway, they would also have to be spot on time. A couple of chatting detectives ambled into the room carrying their beverages, and were seriously glared at by Prodow.

  “If I can get here on time, I do not expect to have to wait for you!”

  Chairs were scraped on the floor as all those assembled scrambled to sit in an arc and recover some decorum.

  He seemed to ignore the general shock he had generated, and launched into the medical progress of Murray. His entire family were being catered for by The Holiday Inn at vastly reduced rates as a favour to the Police. They knew that it was something to do with a major Police enquiry and they often assisted when they could. In return, the Police would always give them a large slice of publicity come the end of the day. Most of those gathered had heard there had been progress in the enquiry and were waiting to hear what.

  Groves was the one to conduct the briefing and he held nothing back. Some in the room were visibly shocked at the scale of what had been disclosed. They all knew that the enquiries they were engaged in had taken a turn for the worse. Some were told that their addresses were where people had died by Sally’s hand. Gary had stated that Sally had used the crushed and fermented substance from the fruit of a passion flower, which according to the laboratory contained cyanide. She mixed it with other substances she had obtained from her garden or else she got from a chemist. Unfortunately, Gary was not privy to what the full concoction actually comprised of.

  The laboratory had been consulted and was conducting a full analysis of the liquid from the container under the sink trying to work out what it was.

  Jim
my butted in, “The lab has provided one analysis in relation to Armstrong which gives three different ingredients and their origins. To speed up the identification of the liquid, they are going to confirm quite quickly whether it is the same or not.”

  Prodow said, “Thanks Jimmy. Keep on top of that and let us know as soon as possible what the conclusion is.”

  Groves continued. No longer constrained by office politics he was back as he used to be, a good Detective Sergeant.

  Prodow was at ease with the briefing and at the culmination added, “The Chief Constable is going to conduct a full press conference in company with me and Mr Groves at mid-day to catch the main news.”

  He paused and looked slowly round the room.

  “Any questions?” There was a stunned silence. “I’m sure when you have taken in what Mr Groves has said, there will be questions. Please feel free to speak to any of us in the office. The Chief will be spending the next few days in the vicinity and visiting Murray which will probably set his recovery back a few weeks.” There was a muted titter of laughter.

  A voice from near the front asked, “Why is she doing it? She can’t mean to kill them. Can she?”

  Paul said, “I can probably answer that. The poison, if the same as that used on Armstrong, causes severe stomach cramps and can destroy part of the lining rendering elderly people seriously ill. If the person doesn’t get medical help reasonably quickly, that’s it. If they survive, and are not firing on all cylinders, they take their eye off their finances and that’s where she steps in. Gary told Mr Groves that she can get hundreds of pounds from some, and thousands from others. It all depends on how well off the person is. We have found an account that shows her taking up to nine thousand pounds from it. If she thinks she has been or is about to be rumbled. She finishes them off.”

  Groves cut in.

  “Because they have been seen at a hospital and have probably visited their own GP afterwards, it’s likely that they would not have had to undergo a PM. Two doctors could sign the death certificate although what they would show as cause of death, I’m not sure.”

  The voice persisted.

  “So the bird box just let them know what the result of the poison was. If the person was in hospital or not. Then I suppose they went in and took what they wanted especially if they knew where the keys were kept as a carer would.”

  Paul considered that for a second and said, “We hadn’t thought of that scenario.”

  John said, “They know from the camera when someone is likely to make a visit and would find the victim and get them to hospital. If she wanted to finish them off, she would know the best time to do it.”

  The voice continued.

  “That must be then when they take the bird box down.”

  Prodow chipped in.

  “This is the sort of thing that we need to hear.”

  He scribbled feverishly in his ‘Murder Book’ updating it with the details of the briefing and what was said. Prodow was fast. He wrote in a style that was clearly readable to him and just about readable to anyone else. Every day, he read up on what had been said at the previous meetings. Thoughts he had and ideas that would progress the enquiry were added and later gone through in minutiae with Groves. Then during the following briefing, they would be either discussed or acted upon. Today he was writing more than he was saying.

  Paul was also scribbling down in his book ideas that were flooding his head and actions that he foresaw.

  The voice as a denouement said, “So we still haven’t got a clue who murdered George Armstrong?”

  113

  Friday 17th June 2011

  Back in the office, John considered the facts they had established about the murder of George Armstrong. He reflected on what had been said in the meeting and now something was starting to irritate him. All the other victims were apparently poisoned to some degree by Sally without their knowledge. Gary had told Groves that she put small amounts in coffee or tea. In the majority of cases, it wasn’t meant to kill anyone, just put them in hospital and away from their abode. The Armstrong case was different since he knew he had been poisoned because he wrote it down before shattering his pencil on the fire place as the murderer stood over him watching as he died. He was meant to die.

  John started to talk rhetorically as Doreen listened to him.

  “Why didn’t the murderer take the diary unless they wanted it to be known he had been poisoned? Did they see him write the word poisoned? He wrote Pois. We have all presumed it was the start of poisoned. He was poisoned. The jar of poison was left where it would be found and likely moved. Did the murderer watch him die? Does the date in the diary where he wrote pois have a bearing?”

  Speaking to Jimmy, as Doreen still listened in, he was told Paul had a photocopy of the relevant diary entry. Paul told him where it was in the file, and Doreen retrieved it and handed it to him. It was nothing like the writing on the gas bill and other correspondence, and had a slight reverse slant as opposed to a forward one. It was as though someone else may have written the word.

  “Why?”

  Doreen looked at the diary and the gas bill and understood his question.

  “He was suffering. It was an effort for him. He may have even written it with his weak hand.”

  “Possible.”

  “Look at the date. 5th March 1974. Who keeps a diary that old?”

  “I need to see the original.”

  Doreen called to Jimmy and requested the original diary. Jimmy was busy handing out tapes to various officers, but realised something was brewing. He practically dived into a pile of exhibits and reappeared with a clear plastic bag which he delivered to Doreen and John. There he stayed hoping to hear some kind of pronouncement.

  Doreen looked at the original exhibit through the bag. It was open at the 5th March 1974. It was a small bog-standard pocket diary with a ring binding. John looked at it as Jimmy looked over his shoulder. Other officers waiting for tapes took a casual interest.

  One officer said, “My kids like that sort of diary.”

  John scrutinised him and said, “Why?”

  “Because you never lose the pencil.”

  Then it dawned on Jimmy how the diary was kept closed by the pencil slotting through the rings when it was closed and it kept it so. As it had been open when it had been seized, no one bothered to close it.

  “Hang on,” and Jimmy dove back into his exhibits and pulled out the plastic exhibit bag containing the pencil.

  The officer saw the little broken pencil with a small plastic top.

  “Yeah that’s the pencil that would slot through the rings. The top stops it falling right through. When you take it out, the diary flips open.”

  Prodow who was now in the room and taking an interest said, “Open it up Jimmy.”

  At his words, Jimmy produced a lock knife, opened it and slit the bag open.

  “You are really starting to worry me Jimmy. You shouldn’t be carrying a thing like that.”

  Jimmy ignored the jibe and removed the diary.

  “Has anyone got anything roughly the size of the pencil?”

  An officer handed a lollipop forward and said, “The stick is about the same size.”

  Jimmy shut the diary and slid the stick through the bindings and it held closed. When he removed it, the diary flipped open to the 5th March 1974.

  John said, “That’s probably why he wrote on that page but why 1974?”

  There was a palpable silence. No one could come up with any feasible answer.

  John continued his deliberations.

  “What was the gun doing in the hole? Why were the papers hidden in the fireplace? Why keep all the money in a dictionary? The bird box video illustrated the person knew about the camera. How?”

  Doreen said, “How what?”

  John answered, “How did they know about the camera?”

  Both sat in contemplation. There was a general buzz from officers going in and out of the office talking to Paul and Jimmy, G
roves having gone to see Gary. Jimmy tried to keep an eye on both John and Doreen as he was dealing with other officers because he anticipated something else boiling to the surface. He wanted to be involved. The two sat oblivious to it all considering the question.

  Doreen broke the silence between them.

  “The person knew because they had stumbled across either the poison in the jar in the kitchen or the tapes in the workshop. This means they have access to one, or more likely, both locations. A family member? A trusted friend?”

  “They do not have children, and live alone. They would not tell anyone else as it could lead to blackmail or disclosure. The liquid does not lead one to automatically believe it to be poison: in fact, it looks like water. Somehow, they had to know about the poison to use it. Therefore, they would not necessarily know about the workshop as no poison was kept there.”

  “That’s of course if we believe what Gary has said.”

  “We are now assuming the poison in the house is the same as what did for George.”

  “It’s got to be family.”

  “I was coming to that same conclusion, but the fly in the ointment is why didn’t either Gary or Sally identify them or the car when they watched the video?”

  They sat again in silence.

  Groves came back into the office with the news that Gary was adamant that no one else knew what they had been up to. Doreen offered to make the teas and coffees assuring everyone that the poison had all gone to the lab.

  When she put a coffee in front of John who hadn’t uttered a word for some time, she said, “Work on it and it’ll all fall into place.”

  “Thanks for the confidence boost Doreen.”