He phoned Exeter University and spoke to a secretary at the computing department about the July conference. It had lasted four days, had been focussed on computer graphics and had been addressed by several experts from universities across Europe. She confirmed that Mark Paterson from Bournemouth had attended and presented a short paper. Marsh thought for a moment. The dates didn’t overlap with standard term dates. By then, Hattie should have returned home for the long summer vacation, so how could they have met?
He asked about accommodation for the delegates, and was told that they often stayed in the better student blocks, vacated for the summer.
‘Do you use any of your own students to help out during the conference?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We always need a pool of helpers at these events. They work as general assistants and guides, and also serve coffee and meals. We post adverts up in the student union building several months in advance. The students like it. It’s a good way of making a bit of money.’
‘Do you have a record of the students who helped at that particular conference?’
‘Sure, I’ll look out the list. What name are you looking for?’
‘Harriet Imber.’
There was a silence. Then the secretary said quietly, ‘She’s the young woman who died at the weekend, isn’t she? I’ll be as quick as I can.’
His hunch confirmed, Barry decided to go a step further. ‘Can you tell me if Maria Katsaros is also on the list?’
It was. Something else to be followed up in Exeter.
* * *
Sophie had managed to get hold of an office in the university administration block for interviewing students. It was far less intimidating than the formal interview rooms in the police station, although they would be needed later for formal questioning. She unlocked the door and shepherded Maria inside. They sat around a low table, Rae ready with her notebook.
‘Maria, you were seen walking down to the quayside late on Saturday night. Someone recognised you as you came out of the underpass. It’s time to tell me the truth. Why were you there and why didn’t you tell us before?’
Maria lowered her eyes. ‘How would it have looked? You would have thought it was me that pushed Hattie into the water, but it wasn’t.’
Sophie stared at her. ‘Why were you there, then?’
Maria sniffled, and dabbed at her nose with a tissue. ‘I wanted to see her. I’d asked a few friends to let me know if they saw her, and one of them sent me a text telling me that’s where she was. No one had seen her for hours, and I was getting worried about her. I know we’d had a fight earlier, but I’d calmed down. I needed to see her to tell her that it was alright, and I’d forgiven her for hitting me.’
‘So what happened when you saw her?’
‘I didn’t. I got to the quayside just as an ambulance arrived. I was up on the top path, looking down and I saw them putting someone on a stretcher into the back, then driving off. I felt sick. Somehow I knew it was Hattie. I went down and hung around for a while, trying to find out what had happened. I heard that someone had been pulled out of the water. I went to the hospital to try and find out if it was her. I asked at reception and they told me she was having a brain scan. That was as on the reception desk. I told them I was her best friend.’
Sophie decided to change tack. ‘There’s something else I must ask you about, Maria. I understand that you and Hattie worked as support staff at a computing conference back in July. Is that right?’
Maria looked puzzled. ‘Yes, we did several conferences. The university runs a lot of them during the holidays, and we helped out at three. It meant we could stay together and earn some money. Why?’
‘I want to know about that particular conference. There was a young man there from Bournemouth University, Mark Paterson. He seems to have met Hattie there and saw her again afterwards. Is that right?’
There was a pause as Maria gathered her thoughts. ‘I think we went out with a group of them one evening. We often do, if there are any younger delegates. We know all the good places to go, the clubs that are open late. I think I remember someone who spent a lot of time talking to Hattie. Was that him? Do you think it was him who killed Hattie?’
‘He couldn’t have done, Maria. He died two weeks ago in Dorset. We’re investigating his death. Did Hattie ever mention him?’
Maria sat in silence for a while, then inhaled. ‘She told me she was seeing a friend when she went back home at weekends. I thought he was just a family friend. Was it more than that? Is that what you’re saying?’
Maria looked desperately unhappy. She was being forced to take a long hard look at her friend and lover. What she was seeing must have been pretty hard to take.
‘We don’t know,’ said Sophie. ‘But it’s important that we find out. There’s another person from her past that we need information about. Did Hattie ever talk about a friend back in Dorset — a midwife?’
Maria dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. ‘I know she went to stay with someone for a while last Easter. She had become anorexic again, and her mum didn’t want her left alone when she went abroad. She went to stay with a friend of her mum’s. I think she was some kind of health worker.’
‘Did Hattie talk about it with you afterwards?’
Maria looked puzzled. ‘Why would she? We didn’t talk about every little thing that happened to us.’
‘It’s just that Hattie may have gone away with her for a long weekend just a couple of weeks later. To Majorca. Did you know about that?’
‘I remember her saying she had a lovely weekend there, but I don’t know who she went with.’ Maria paused, looking puzzled. ‘Are you saying that she was involved with all these people? That can’t be right. She’d have told me. Surely she’d have told me?’
‘Did she ever talk about her childhood, Maria? About things that might have happened to her when she was younger?’ Sophie spoke gently.
‘No. What are you saying?’ Maria put a hand to her mouth. ‘You mean something bad happened to her when she was a child? No, she never mentioned anything like that to me. But she wouldn’t. You didn’t know Hattie. She wasn’t like other people. Everything was on her terms. If anyone asked her something she didn’t like, she’d lash out at them or walk away.’
‘She was touchy about particular things? Or she had a short fuse generally?’
‘She was always unpredictable but sometimes it was worse than others. It was a bit like living with a whirlwind. I never got to know much about her childhood or her family. She did say once that she didn’t get on with them.’ Maria looked at Sophie as if she was wondering whether to say anything more. ‘She hated her mother but she wouldn’t tell me why. Yet whenever we met her, Hattie was always really polite. I was a bit puzzled but I didn’t dare ask about it.’ Maria looked at her watch. ‘Can I go? I’m so tired I can hardly think straight. I haven’t slept since Friday night. I feel ill and so . . .’ Maria burst into a storm of weeping.
‘Have you seen a doctor, Maria? Maybe you need something to help you sleep.’
Maria looked up, her cheeks streaked with tears. ‘Yes. She gave me a tablet for tonight.’
Sophie watched her carefully. ‘DC Gregson here will walk back to your room with you. But I may need to talk to you again very soon.’
Chapter 34: Services Offered
It was time to delve a little deeper into the muddy waters of Harriet’s life. While the Exeter detectives were interviewing their other suspects, Rae spent some time searching the internet and found the ‘Mistress Pandora of Exeter’ website. Mistress Pandora was able and willing to dispense suitable physical punishment to any man or woman who felt they deserved it and were willing to pay her hourly rates. Mistress Pandora offered spanking, flogging, blindfolding and bondage, as well as several other services that caused Rae’s eyes to widen. Three photos showed Hattie dressed in tight black leathers and posing with a riding crop. Hattie had worn a similar outfit when Rae saw her at Markham’s house.
�
�The site’s a bit amateurish, ma’am, compared to some of the others, but I guess it did the trick. She probably produced it herself, it’s got that unsophisticated look. Plus it’s hosted by a free website service.’
Sophie went to take a look. ‘Can you tell when it first appeared, Rae?’
‘It looks as though it was last March, which was just before she went to stay with Eddie Davis. We might be able to get the statistics and some background from the hosting service. Leave it with me.’
‘It sheds some light on her liaisons here in Exeter, but I don’t think the three suicides in Dorset had anything to do with this side of her life. Not even Mark Paterson. If he was that way inclined, he’d have visited someone in the Bournemouth or Poole area, not way across here in Exeter. It seems odd, but the liaisons she formed through her Pandora persona probably didn’t affect her all that much. It was the people she connected to emotionally who seemed to end up dead.’
‘Do you think she really felt close to that organist then, ma’am?’
‘I’m sure she did. At that age, teenage girls can become totally infatuated very easily. When it ends, their whole world comes crashing down. It had probably happened to her before, when she was abused as a child. That second time, with Jackson, she was a teenager and more prepared, so she was ready to take action. He ended up dead.’ Sophie looked at the website again. ‘Copy it onto a stick or something to keep as evidence. I’ve seen enough for now.’
DS Steve Gulliver appeared, looking excited. ‘Thank goodness for our police diving team. They recovered a phone from the sludge at the quayside. Oh, and they’ve got a broken bottle as well.’
‘That’s fantastic,’ Sophie replied. ‘Keep that bottle safe. I was just reading a couple of weeks ago that it’s now possible to lift fingerprints off submerged glass, given the right reagents and a bit of luck.’
Gulliver looked surprised. ‘Really? We were thinking the phone was the important thing and the bottle was just a bonus.’
‘The phone is important, Steve, but only if your forensic people can rescue the data from it. But don’t mess with that bottle. It’s been in the water, so much of the fingerprint residue will have washed off, but not all of it. It could be vital. That’s if it’s the one used to clobber that poor girl.’
Sophie visited the labs with Gulliver and as she expected, she was told that the focus was on trying to dry out the phone and tease some usable data out of it. Sophie asked the forensic officer to prioritise tests on the bottle as well.
‘We’ll let you know once we’ve got something from the phone,’ the forensic chief said. ‘But I’ll push ahead with the bottle too. It looks as though it’s the one used in the assault, judging from the fragments of glass extracted from her head, but we’ll be more certain after some spectroscope work. Once we’re sure, I’ll get the fingerprint expert to look for residues.’
Sophie looked around the lab. ‘Where’s the phone then?’
The forensic chief pointed at the lab bench. ‘Right in front of us.’
Sophie looked again at the disassembled object in front of her. ‘That’s not Harriet’s phone. Hers was a deep red smartphone. No student would be seen dead with a cheap one like this.’ She looked at the parts again. ‘But keep working at that one. We know she was lured to the waterside somehow. What better way to get rid of the evidence than to toss it in the water along with the bottle?’ Sophie turned to Gulliver. ‘I hope the divers haven’t started packing up yet. Harriet’s phone is probably still down in the water, along with her bag.’
* * *
Sophie and Rae were back in Dorset after a long and tiring day. ‘The diving unit is coming back tomorrow to continue the search. It was a stroke of good fortune that we happened to see Hattie’s phone last week,’ Sophie said.
Barry frowned. ‘They should have checked. Surely it’s basic procedure?’
‘Well, it’s all turned out for the good. That cheap black phone could be a vital piece of evidence if it was the one used to lure her outside. What colour was Hattie’s bag, Barry? Can you remember?’
Marsh ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick up. ‘It was a knitted bag, wasn’t it? A sort of sandy colour?’
‘That’s what I remember,’ Rae added. ‘It had tassels. But she also had a really cute black one. I saw her with it on Thursday evening.’
‘That one’s accounted for. It was in her room when I searched it on Sunday morning. The knitted one is missing. If it’s down there in the mud it wouldn’t stand out, would it? It would look like some soggy bit of material.’ Sophie looked at her team. ‘Well done both of you, but we’re all exhausted and need to go home and get some sleep. Barry, is there anything else going on here that needs you? If not, shall we all head back to Exeter tomorrow? It may be time to flex our muscles a bit.’
Chapter 35: Jigsaw Puzzle
After a few good days the malevolent side of the Devon climate now kicked in with a vengeance. Driven by a stiff wind from the Atlantic, rain was hampering the efforts of the diving team on the Exeter quayside. Obviously the weather would make little difference to the divers, but the surface crew were drenched. At least the rain kept the onlookers away. Sophie and Barry Marsh made a quick visit to check on progress but the divers had not yet gone down.
A ruddy-faced man came out of a glassblowing workshop close to the scene and introduced himself as the owner. ‘My daughter was down here on Saturday night,’ he told them. ‘She says that someone rushed past her as she was coming down the steps from the street, just there, behind my workshop. Probably nothing to do with the assault, but I told her I’d mention it to the police.’
‘Well, it could be useful and we’ll need to check it out. Why didn’t she tell you earlier?’ Sophie said.
The man looked embarrassed. ‘She’s only sixteen and we’ve forbidden her from coming down here late in the evenings. As far as we knew, she was at a friend’s house for the evening. It took her till breakfast this morning to pluck up the courage to tell us.’
‘Scared?’
The man nodded grimly. ‘Not of me, mind. My wife. She really tore into her.’
‘Is she at school today?’
‘Yeah. Northside Academy.’
While Barry noted the details Sophie returned to the cluster of officers standing around the diving equipment. She picked out Steve Gulliver and told him the news.
She went back to Barry. ‘Let’s go. Now’s our chance. Gulliver’s been told to remain here with the divers, and Sue Wilding is in court for the morning. We’ll leave Rae with the CCTV team.’
She and Barry drove through the city to the northern suburbs and pulled into the car park of a large school. Heads down against the rain, they hurried inside and spoke to the receptionist. The deputy head came to speak to them. He was a tall, bony individual, and Sophie wondered if he’d honed that cold stare over many years. It was enough to intimidate anyone, young or old. He went out and after a few minutes returned, accompanied by a thin young girl who he introduced as Lizzie. The girl looked terrified. Her pale face looked white against the dark ringlets that framed it. Sophie gave her a reassuring smile and held out her hand. The girl’s palm was icy cold. The deputy led them into a vacant office.
‘Lizzie, your father said you told him someone hurried past you on the steps leading down to the quayside on Saturday night. You did exactly the right thing to tell your parents about it this morning, so I want to thank you on behalf of the police. Were you really worried about speaking up?’
Lizzie nodded.
‘There’s no need to be. What you saw may make a big difference to our investigation, so are you happy to answer a few questions?’
‘Yes,’ Lizzie replied hesitantly. ‘But I really didn’t see much.’
‘Everything helps, Lizzie. I’ll ask the questions and Sergeant Marsh here will take notes.’ Lizzie nodded.
Sophie dropped her voice to a stage whisper. ‘His writing is better than mine.’
This elicited
a faint smile.
Sophie continued. ‘Now, can you remember what time you were on the steps to the quayside?’
‘I think it was about five past twelve. When Emma and I passed the cathedral the bells rang for midnight. It was only a few minutes from then.’
‘That’s good. Was it just you who saw this figure or was it your friend Emma as well?’
Lizzie chewed at her fingernail. ‘Just me. We met up with some of Emma’s other friends near the cathedral and they decided to go down to the quay. I didn’t want to, so they all went on without me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to go home on my own, so I went after them. They must have gone down Coombe Street and through the underpass, but I didn’t want to go down there by myself. It’s really dark and scary. I went across the main road and took the steps.’
‘And was it on the steps that this person came past you?’
Once Lizzie embarked on her story, she grew more relaxed. ‘Yeah. I was halfway down, just turning a corner, when whoever it was nearly knocked me over. They came rushing round the corner.’
‘Can you describe them, Lizzie? Their clothes?’
‘All I remember is that they were dark. He wore a hoodie with the hood up. I couldn’t see much.’
‘What about the height? Were they taller than you?’
Lizzie frowned. ‘I don’t think so. When they bumped into me, I think their face was about level with mine, or not much higher.’ She hesitated. ‘It’s hard to be sure.’
‘Don’t worry. You’re what? About five foot five?’
Lizzie nodded.
‘Now, do you remember anything about this person’s face? Could you see very much of it under the hood?’
Lizzie was chewing her nails. ‘It was only a second. But it was pale. I thought it was a ghost. It scared me.’
‘I’m not surprised. Lizzie, you said he just now. Are you sure it was a man?’
EVIL CRIMES a gripping crime thriller full of twists Page 19