Fatal Act

by Leigh Russell

  ‘Did for him?’ Geraldine queried.

  ‘It smashed his skull. That tells us his killer was strong. You can quote me on that.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Unless the victim had osteogenesis imperfect – a brittle skull.’

  ‘What are the chances of that?’

  ‘It’s very unlikely, but we can’t rule it out completely yet.’

  ‘So you think we’re probably looking for a man then?’

  Miles shrugged. ‘You said it, not me. Although you can’t rule out a female killer. There are some strong women around,’ he added, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

  Geraldine wondered what lay behind that comment, but there was no time to dwell on it. She and Miles both had work to do.

  Chapter 52

  REG WAS LOOKING SERIOUS, reflecting the mood in the room. For the third time in the investigation they were facing a conundrum. There was no way Zak’s fatal injuries could possibly have been self inflicted. Apart from any other consideration, there was no weapon anywhere along the top corridor or on the ground outside. Once again the killer had vanished impossibly, and without trace. The security guard couldn’t be everywhere at once. His brief was to patrol the premises. Not only was there more than one exit from the building where the murder had been committed, but the college had more than one building.

  The top corridor where Zak had been discovered early on Saturday morning was protected by electronic surveillance equipment. A team of constables was watching film of the lift and the staircase leading down to the ground floor. At ten o’clock the previous evening the cast and crew had left their rehearsal room. Only Zak had remained behind to fix some damage to the scenery. The others could be seen trooping along the corridor where someone had turned out the light before they all descended the stairs together. No one had returned upstairs. Reaching the ground floor, most of them had headed straight for the exit. A few had gone back into the main building, to the toilets or the bar. No one had gone back up to the top floor where Zak was working alone.

  For nearly an hour the corridor had remained dark and empty. Two constables were watching the film in real time in case they missed anything by speeding it up. So far nothing had happened until shortly before eleven, when the door to the end rehearsal room opened. Zak appeared, silhouetted in the doorway. Then darkness returned. Suddenly the corridor was brightly illuminated showing Zak standing by the light switch, his back to the camera. Before he could make his way to the door, a figure leapt out of the shadows and hit him on the back of his legs, felling him. The light flicked off. It was difficult to work out exactly what happened next. Even with the image enhanced, they could see only vague shapes moving around. Zak appeared as a dense patch on the floor, while a second figure bent over him.

  ‘That’s the killer,’ Geraldine whispered.

  They watched in horror as the hazy image hovered over Zak, waving its arms and striking down twice.

  ‘Two blows to the head,’ someone said as the figure turned and ran down the corridor, away from the camera. A second later they saw an outline in the doorway, lit up by light from the stairs. Then the figure disappeared.

  ‘Rewind,’ Geraldine said, ‘and freeze the frame so we can examine it.’

  The figure was visible briefly in the doorway. They could only see it from behind, shrouded in a long hooded coat.

  ‘It’s hopeless,’ Bill said wearily. ‘We’ve tried everything possible to enhance the image sufficiently to get a look at his face, but the only time we got him in enough light to see anything, all we can see is the back of his hood. There’s no reflection in a window, nothing.’

  ‘What happened after he reached the stairs? And why didn’t he turn the lights out there as well?’

  ‘The lights on the stairs can only be switched off by the maintenance staff.’

  ‘So you must have got a good view of him on the stairs?’

  Bill shook his head. ‘No, I’m afraid not, because he didn’t go down the stairs.’

  ‘Well, the lift then?’

  ‘No. The lift wasn’t used.’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Geraldine said. She had a horrible feeling she already knew exactly what Bill was going to say next.

  ‘No one used the lift and no one went down the stairs,’ was how he put it.

  ‘But there was no one there when the cleaners went in the next morning.’

  ‘No one used the lift or left by the stairs this morning either.’

  ‘So you’re telling me the killer just vanished?’

  Bill shrugged his shoulders. ‘That seems to be what happened, yes ma’am.’

  A team had been sent to search Zak’s flat looking for names of contacts in whom he might have confided, drugs, or large sums of money, anything that looked irregular. A constable had returned from the search team to report back to the detective chief inspector. The momentary frisson of excitement faded as soon as she began to speak.

  ‘All we could find was a load of rehearsal schedules and lists of props, paints, colours, scraps of fabric, his room was littered with them,’ she said. ‘But we did find this.’

  She held up an envelope.

  ‘What is it?’ Reg asked.

  Carefully removing a sheet of paper in her gloved fingers, the constable unfolded it and read aloud.

  ‘“Hello Zak, It’s a long time since we met. You won’t remember me. You were just a baby when I saw you last. Your late mother was my sister. Perhaps I can take you out for dinner? Please give me a call on the number below and I hope we can spend some time together soon. And it’s signed, Darius (your uncle)”.’

  ‘OK, follow that up,’ Reg said, ‘although it sounds innocuous enough. Is that what you came all the way back here to show us?’

  ‘So far that’s all we’ve found. He doesn’t seem to have kept a personal diary, or a record of friends’ names or anything like that. No phone either, so we reckon the killer must have taken it because he didn’t have one on him, did he?’

  ‘Still nothing to help us find his killer then,’ Reg said miserably.

  ‘Oh for crying out loud, this is getting ridiculous,’ Sam burst out. ‘What are we dealing with here? The invisible man?’

  No one answered. Somehow Sam’s outburst didn’t sound as far-fetched as it should have done.

  Only one thing was clear. All the victims had been directly involved with Piers. Sam insisted he couldn’t have killed his own son, but Reg wasn’t so sure.

  ‘I think that’s crazy!’ Sam insisted.

  ‘Let’s not be under any illusion that this killer is sane,’ Jayne said.

  She smiled at Reg like an indulgent mother amused by something her child had said. Geraldine could see Sam bristling with irritation at the profiler’s patronising tone.

  ‘I agree with Sam,’ Geraldine said firmly. ‘This was a vicious brutal murder. The victim was beaten to death. And it was carefully planned. The killer knew where Zak would be –’

  ‘Unless he stumbled on him by chance,’ someone said.

  For a moment no one spoke. They really had no idea why any of the victims had been killed.

  ‘No,’ Geraldine said firmly. ‘The killer must have worked out in advance how to get in and out of the building. That couldn’t have happened by chance. So he was familiar with the set up there. He would have needed a swipe card to get in, and he’d worked out his escape route, whatever it was.’

  Jayne stepped forward to stand at Reg’s side. He shifted to make room for her, as though they were joint senior investigation officers.

  ‘It’s quite feasible for a man to kill his own son. There are plenty of precedents –’

  ‘Please don’t quote them all at us,’ Sam muttered under breath.

  Jayne ignored the muted interruption and continued. ‘It’s not unknown. Remember we’re dealing with someone who is seriously unbalanced.’

  ‘I wish she’d lose her balance and fall flat on her face,’ Sam whispered in Geraldine’s ear.

  Geraldine couldn’
t help smiling. When she had first arrived in London, alone, she had been grateful to Sam who had been kind enough to befriend her although they had only just met. After an initial misunderstanding, the acquaintance had developed into a genuine friendship. Geraldine really liked her colleague, although recently she had begun to see a different side to the sergeant. Sam had been quite vindictive in her remarks about Nick. She would have to be careful. One day Geraldine might have to write a reference for her, if Sam went chasing after promotion. There was now a question mark in Geraldine’s mind about Sam’s ability to get on with her colleagues. She hoped it wouldn’t become a problem.

  Chapter 53

  BUOYED UP BY JAYNE’S confident assertion that other men had been known to kill their own children, Reg remained convinced that Piers was guilty. When Geraldine challenged him for his evidence he looked irritated, although claiming to welcome her scepticism.

  ‘That’s your job, to challenge theories, Geraldine, and you do it very well. I’m impressed with your doggedness in questioning everything, but there’s really no need to carry on now we know what’s what. Once we’ve picked him up, I want to get inside his mind, find out what makes him tick, and Jayne will be able to help us with that.’

  Sam threw her a sympathetic grimace. Geraldine knew straight away what the sergeant was thinking: Reg was a patronising moron.

  Trying to ignore her superior officer’s annoying manner, Geraldine wondered if Reg might actually be right. He was the senior investigating officer on the case, after all, and a chief inspector. An experienced detective, he must know that he was putting his reputation on the line by insisting Piers was guilty. If he was wrong, he would have to answer for it to those in authority further up the chain of command. All the same, she struggled to believe the arrogant director was capable of resorting to acts of such crass brutality, and he had appeared to care about his son.

  Reg began listing his reasons for believing Piers was guilty. He finished by reminding Geraldine about the accusation that the suspect was dangerous.

  ‘A girl came to the station to accuse him of violent assault,’ he reminded her. ‘She warned us he was going to kill someone, and now look what’s happened.’

  ‘The girl was frightened by a drunken brawl,’ Geraldine replied. She had interviewed the girl. Reg hadn’t even seen her. ‘She was an aggrieved girlfriend. No, she wasn’t even a girlfriend. It was nothing more than a casual relationship, but I dare say she was expecting more than that and came here out of spite when he dumped her. That’s all it was. And we still haven’t explained his disappearing acts from the crime scenes.’

  Reg grinned. ‘We’re about to find out exactly how he managed that.’

  He was excited and insisted on accompanying Geraldine to arrest Piers.

  ‘It’s about time we wrapped this up,’ he said.

  Geraldine kept her reservations to herself for now. She wasn’t happy about the way things were developing, but she remembered her own conclusions about Sam and was reluctant to encourage her own detective chief inspector to write her off as a trouble maker who didn’t support her senior investigating officer. And there was still the chance he might be right.

  Geraldine thought Piers looked surprised to see her back on his doorstep. He maintained his outward composure until he saw Reg. Then he swore aggressively. He must have realised the presence of the detective chief inspector signalled that the visit had a serious import.

  ‘We are here with a dual purpose,’ Reg began in his high-handed way. ‘May we come in?’

  ‘You can say what you have to say here.’

  Piers crossed his arms, adopting a belligerent pose as though to prevent Reg from entering the house.

  ‘I’m afraid we have some bad news, Mr Trevelyan.’

  Piers frowned. He hadn’t expected that.

  ‘It concerns your son.’

  ‘Zak?’ Piers started forward. ‘Zak? What’s the stupid boy done now?’

  When he heard the news that his son was dead his expression didn’t alter, but all the colour drained from his face. He stood absolutely still. With his pale face and rigid figure he could have been turned to stone.

  ‘Zak dead?’ he repeated at last. ‘No, I don’t believe it.’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  Piers seemed to crumple.

  ‘He was all I had. He was my son.’

  With a curious animalistic wail he doubled over suddenly as though he had been kicked in the guts. He didn’t even remonstrate when Reg arrested him on suspicion of murder. Geraldine felt a rush of pity for this man who was accustomed to being in control.

  Reg ushered his suspect down the path towards the car. Piers’ hands were visibly trembling, and he walked with a shaky gait. He seemed to want to talk about Zak, but his words were incoherent.

  ‘We didn’t always see eye to eye. But we were – we had a strong relationship. Our bond – Oh God, my son, my son –’

  Reg gazed speculatively at the bereaved father as though calculating how genuine his reaction was. Geraldine saw the anguish in his eyes and felt like crying herself. She wondered if anyone could be that good an actor.

  ‘He was my son,’ he repeated then went on with a sudden burst of energy, ‘Who did this? Who?’ He gasped like a man drowning. ‘Where is he? Where is my son? I want to see my son.’

  ‘Of course. We’ll take you to him now. We need a formal identification.’

  ‘Identification?’

  ‘Mind your head, sir,’ Reg said, gesturing for Piers to climb into the car.

  By the time they reached the mortuary, Piers had recovered his outward equanimity, his face had regained its natural hue, and he had stopped shaking.

  ‘You need someone to identify the body?’ he asked with a return of his characteristic authority. ‘So you’re not even certain it’s my son. This could be a mistake. It might not be him at all.’

  All at once he grew talkative, and slightly hysterical. He didn’t once refer to Zak by name, as though keeping his name out of the discussion might somehow protect the boy.

  The visit to the mortuary was painful as such visits usually were. Reg had returned to work leaving Geraldine to make the arrangements. By the time they reached the viewing room, Piers had persuaded himself the body couldn’t possibly be his son. Even Geraldine’s gentle reminder that she had met Zak didn’t shake his conviction.

  ‘You didn’t know him, not really. You’d only met him briefly a couple of times. It’s easy to be mistaken. It could be anyone,’ he insisted, with unnatural composure. ‘No one could want to harm Zak, unless –’

  ‘Unless?’

  He turned troubled eyes to Geraldine. ‘Unless someone wanted to hurt me.’

  Geraldine shook her head, astonished by his narcissism. He really seemed to believe the world revolved around him.

  Piers didn’t speak. There was no need. As soon as he caught sight of his dead son his mask of control dissolved, every muscle taut as he struggled not to break down completely. He nodded once and turned away, unable to look at the body. He didn’t cry, but tears slid down his cheeks. Zak was covered up to his chin. Only his face had been uncovered for the identification. He had been cleaned up but his head was shaved, exposing ghastly bruising and pulpy skin where he had been beaten to death. Piers didn’t say a word as she led him back to the waiting car. He didn’t protest when she handcuffed him before manoeuvring him into the back seat. He seemed completely stunned.

  As they drove back to the station, Geraldine pondered over what Piers had said earlier. She had dismissed it as narcissistic fantasy. But if anyone had wanted to hurt Piers, they couldn’t have achieved their objective with greater success. Anna, Bethany, and now Zak – was it possible they had been killed in a macabre crusade against the one man who had cared for them all? The shattered man in handcuffs might not be the killer as Reg believed. He might be the victim.

  Chapter 54

  GERALDINE WAS SURPRISED TO see Piers’ solicitor was a young blonde who
looked as though she had just stepped off a film set. A closer look revealed a sharpness in her expression that put Geraldine on her guard. She explained that Piers’ solicitor had sent her.

  ‘Terry is away,’ she explained.

  The lawyer was docile enough while Reg began to question her client. His initial shock had quickly given way to anger.

  ‘I’ll say it again, Inspector. If you really think I killed my son, you must be completely barking. It’s a monstrous suggestion. He was my son.’

  Despite the circumstances, Geraldine felt a flutter of excitement as she gazed into his compelling eyes. Notwithstanding his age, there was something undeniably seductive about him.

  ‘Let’s go over this one more time,’ Reg said, firmly stepping in to assert his authority over the situation.

  ‘My client isn’t going to repeat himself interminably,’ the solicitor announced in a penetrating, nasal voice.

  Reg ignored her. ‘Last night,’ he said. ‘Between ten and twelve. Tell me again where you were.’

  ‘I was at home and before you ask again, I wasn’t alone. I’ve already told you Gemma was with me. We were going through an audition piece she’s preparing. You can ask her.’

  ‘We intend to. Where can we find her?’

  Like all the girls involved with Piers, Gemma was young and pretty. It didn’t take Geraldine long to confirm that she had spent Friday evening with him, ‘rehearsing a speech’. She had arrived at his house shortly before eight. When Geraldine asked what time she had left, the girl coloured slightly.

  ‘I stayed there.’