Red looked doubtful. “That’s only a few months away, hun. I’m not sure I want to hand over command to someone else so soon after taking over. I’m still establishing my brand on the team.”
“Cass, be serious. It’s the same team as before William was murdered. You’re just a higher rank now, Chief Inspector. In fact, you must be a man short if...”
Red listened, mystified, as Pippa’s tone darkened.
“That Farmer fellow is still on sick-leave, I take it?”
Red nodded cautiously. “Eight months and counting. Can’t see him ever coming back, to be honest. I reckon he’s hoping to get pensioned off.”
“So that means there’s only six of you altogether?”
“Eight. I’ve been seconded Pete Metcalf and Lee Roberts from Wandsworth to help nab the willy-snipper.” Red picked up the wine bottle, swilling the contents nonchalantly. “Shall we finish this off before the water gets cold?”
Pippa’s eyes bore into Red’s. “Presumably they’ve paired off?”
Red sighed as she saw where Pippa was heading.
“So if Batman is with James Mackenzie, and Anna is looking after Robin, which poor soul gets to be your understudy for this one?”
Red cleared her throat, suddenly interested in the label on the bottle behind Pippa. “Is this a Viognier?”
Pippa placed her wine glass on the soap rack with unnerving slowness and precision, then swung a glacial stare back at Red. “How is it, out of a team of experienced, time-served detectives, you choose the rookie from Texas? The Jessica Alba lookalike with a mane of blonde hair and a backside that could crack walnuts?”
Red’s gaze dropped from Pippa’s eyes to where a tiny muscle in her jaw quivered and pulsed as rapidly as Red’s own heart. Red forced her lips into a smile and inched forward in the water. “If you must know, the Chief Super has a thing about Terri. He specifically wanted me to take her under my wing. And brownie points with Cedric are worth having.”
Red leaned forward, resting lips on the wet, soapy skin at Pippa’s collarbone. “Colin Blake’s not getting any younger, Counsellor. I’m playing the long game. Superintendent Cass Rose has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?”
Red felt the rage leaving Pippa’s body. Time to play the ace. “The Super was telling me the other day about his official duties. Meeting with the Duke of Edinburgh, that sort of thing.”
Pippa gently moaned, sinking back against the bath, all thoughts of Terri Miller seemingly forgotten. Red breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Chapter 29.
“On the way.” Red fumbled her phone back onto the bedside table, the fog of sleep rapidly dissipating as the news sunk home.
Pippa stirred next to her, wrapping an arm across Red as she struggled to get up. “Cass?”
“Go back to sleep, Counsellor. It’s early.”
Pippa reached out an arm. “Where are you going?”
“We’ve got another body.”
Pippa forced herself upright. “Cass, it’s half-four in the morning.”
“Tell me about it.” Red gently lifted her partner’s arm to one side. “Sorry, lover. Duty calls.”
Pippa groaned, pulling the duvet over her shoulders. “You’re DCI. now. Why do you have to go?”
“Because I’m DCI.” Red flicked on the beside lamp.
“Cass, please. Turn that light off.”
“I’ll get dressed in the dark, shall I? Is it okay to brush my teeth? Or will that disturb your highness even more?”
“Just hurry back.”
Red leaned over and kissed Pippa on the lips. “Aw, gonna miss me, babe?”
Pippa rolled over. “No, I just need you back to prepare the children their breakfast.”
Red threw her pillow at Pippa, heading for the bathroom. “I somehow think a dead body on my patch takes priority over toast and marmalade.”
Pippa’s arm snaked out and switched the lamp off. “You might, Cassandra. I don’t.”
30.
“I know, I know.” Red held her hands up in apology as Pete Metcalf and Lee Roberts entered the briefing room. “No-one wants a text at six in the morning on a weekend asking them to come into work.” Her gaze settling on the disgruntled faces of Harris and Taylor as they jostled through the door. “Morning, boys. Thanks for coming in.”
“This’d better be good, Guv,” Taylor said, through a mouthful of burrito. He wiped greasy fingers down the front of a top that Red hadn’t seen anyone wear since 2005. “I had to knock three times for Jezza before he crawled out of his shag-bag.”
Harris shot an accusatory glance at Red. “We’d only just got to sleep.”
“I don’t need this, Guv.” Taylor hooked the leg of a chair toward him with a trainer-clad foot. “The missus thinks I’m a waste of oxygen as it is.”
“Really, Barry?” Red folded her arms across her chest, mustering an expression of disbelief. “The woman must have something wrong with her.”
“That’s what I keep telling her.” Taylor sucked his stomach in. “She’ll come to her senses one of these days.”
“Hold on,” Red back-tracked. “Have you two got back together again?”
Taylor looked aghast. “Do me a favour. I wouldn’t go back to that slag if she won the Euromillions lottery three times in a row.”
“Then what?”
“I was supposed to be having the kids today.”
Red brought her palms to her face, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry, Barry. I do appreciate you being here.”
Taylor shrugged. “I could do with the overtime anyway. Child Support are bleeding me dry. Thieving bastards.”
Red checked her watch. ‘We’ll give Anna and Terri five minutes. Jez, can you get the coffees in?”
Harris glared at Red. “I didn’t come in on a Sunday just to be the bloody tea-boy.”
Taylor grinned. “Coffee-boy, Jezza. Get it right.”
“Piss off.”
“That’s enough you two,” Red declared.
“I’ll get ‘em, Guv,” Roberts said. “Plus three more?”
“Just for Anna and Terri. Jim won’t be joining us.”
“Oh, that’s bloody great,” Taylor declared. “We all crawl out of bed at some ridiculous hour in the morning to get here and his lordship gets to sleep in. Is that one of the perks of being the new DI, Guv?”
“Dream on, Constable. The perk of being the new DI was that Mac was at the crime scene at three o’clock this morning, before me.”
“Not another public bogs massacre?” Taylor screwed up his face in disgust.
“I’ll fill you in as soon as the others get here. They should be arriving…” Red’s eyes moved to the doorway. “Anna, good morning. Grab a pew. Lee’s bringing coffee.”
Anna settled in besides Pete Metcalf. Red let the team chat among themselves while waiting for Terri and the coffee. She checked on her phone for any new messages from Mackenzie. Nothing. Nothing from Terri either. Not like her to be late.
Lee Roberts was coming through the door with a tray of Styrofoam cups.
Red checked the clock a final time. “Looks like Terri didn’t get the message.” Red aimed a pointer at the digital wall, sparking it into life. “Okay, here’s the SP. We’ve got another body, as you will have guessed. Same MO, as I mentioned.”
“The phantom willy-snipper of Old London Town strikes again,” Taylor said.
Harris stared at Taylor, mystified.
“The Two Ronnies,” Anna explained. “Before your time, Jez.”
Metcalf raised a pen. “I thought we had extra security on all the bogs, Guv?”
“We have, Pete,” Red confirmed. “The few that are open 24/7, anyway. “Which makes this especially interesting. This wasn’t in a public toilet. It was in a hotel.”
“What, a local one?” Harris asked.
“No, the Dorchester,” Taylor cut in with dripping sarcasm. “Course it was a bloody local one, or we wouldn’t be dealing with it, would we.”
“Boll
ocks.”
“Two of them, thank you very much,” Taylor confirmed. “And the rest is all there too, unlike the vic’. Has he been IDed yet?”
“If you two would shut up for five seconds I’d have a chance to tell you.” Red waved the wand at the display, bringing up the SOCO images and a map. “The body was found at approximately 0330 hours by the manager of a one-star in Streatham Hill.” Red cast her gaze over her team. “Tied to the bed, but otherwise same procedure as before.”
Anna asked, “How come the body was found in the middle of the night? Surely they don’t do room service twenty-four seven at dives like that?”
“Only a hotel by name, I’d guess,” said Metcalf. “What was it, pay by the hour?”
Red nodded. “The manager wasn’t too helpful on that point, but Jim assured him we weren’t interested in his commercial practices. The vic is apparently one Mr. Stuart Walker. At least that’s the ID he had on him. Credit cards and cash, still in his jacket pocket. No indication it had been touched. The driving licence image was clearly several years ago and forensics hadn’t removed the cellophane bag, so Jim couldn’t be certain. He visited the address this morning and found a worried wife whose husband had not returned home.”
“Another bi, Guv?” Anna ventured.
“Looking that way,” Red said. “Walker paid for the room for two hours from midnight till two. Apparently he was a regular. The manager said he came in several times a month, always for two hours. Paid cash, of course. No names. No questions. At three o’clock, he was running up a tab, so the kindly patron went a’knocking. Figured the guy must have fallen asleep.”
Red gestured to the photo of the victim spread-eagled face up, naked on the bed. The hands were secured to the lamp-holders either side of the headrest, one foot tied to the leg of a table, the other tied awkwardly to the wardrobe handle. “Found him like this.”
“Boss-man say who the vic’ went up with?” Harris asked.
“This is where it gets interesting,” Red said. “Walker came in alone, as he always did, punctual at midnight. His guests always turned up at midnight fifteen. Always left at one-forty-five, so Walker had fifteen minutes either end to get ready and clean up afterwards. His guests just came to reception, stated the room number and went on up. Sometimes male, sometimes female.”
“So definitely bi,” Anna said. “Do we have a description on the guy who went up o Walker this time?”
“We do, but it just complicates matters. It was a woman.”
Chapter 31.
“No way,” Harris said.
“According to the manager it was an IC1 female. Twenty-something, maybe younger. Brunette, long hair, heavy makeup. Your typical non-descript prozzie, except her dress was calf length, not the usual mini-skirt-cum-belt. But presumably that’s how Walker asked her to turn up.”
“Had the manager seen her before?”
“First time, Anna.”
“No CCTV, presumably?”
“Not in the hotel. We may be lucky with street footage. That needs to be checked.”
“Did he see her leave?”
“No. But he says he was watching TV out back. Anyone coming in has to ring the bell, but going out they just release the door catch.”
“Are we saying a woman is the murderer then?” Roberts asked.
“A suspect, Lee. She would be the last person to see Walker alive. If she exists. We can’t rule out this twenty-something prozzie is an invention of the manager to cover up his own dirty work.”
“Why would the manager want to cut a bloke’s dick off? It’s not exactly good for business.”
Red shrugged. “Why would anyone? I’m just saying keep an open mind. Anna and Jez, you can follow up on that. If he can provide a firm alibi for the night of the first murder then we can ease off him. His personals are in Jim’s report.”
Metcalf raised his pen again. “Is this a registered hotel?”
“So far as I know.”
“Then there will be a fire escape out back, and a rear exit at ground level.”
“Good point, Pete. Though that makes our work that much harder, if there’s two of them.”
“Two of what?” Harris asked.
“Keep up, thick-o,” Taylor muttered. He leaned back in his chair, stifling a yawn.
“Piss off, Taylor,” Harris countered.
“That will do,” Red said firmly. “Barry, why not explain to Jez. Give him the benefit of your infinite wisdom.”
Taylor slumped into his seat. “Give me a break, Guv. It’s still early.”
“Accomplices,” Roberts explained to Harris. “The proz’ could have opened the back door and let the killer in. One or both could have gone out that way.”
Harris nodded. “That would explain how she could have tied him up like that.”
“Actually Jez, that was probably voluntary,” Red said. “Some mild bondage is par for the course. With two hours booked this guy obviously wasn’t in to a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am session. Once he was secured, he would be helpless.”
“The bag over the head might have been consensual too,” Metcalf said. “Auto-erotic asphyxia.”
“Both times?”
Metcalf shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“Don’t they usually put an orange in their gob for that?” Taylor asked, suddenly taking an interest.
“A tangerine, maybe,” Anna said. “An orange is a tad on the large side.”
“Not with a mouth like Bazza,” Harris grinned. “You could get a melon in there.”
Taylor fumed silently under Red’s watchful eye.
“I agree, Pete,” Red said. “It’s a possibility, although the first victim seemed to be a random selection that just happened to be in the toilets at the wrong time. What chance the perp’ could find two people in a row trusting enough to allow their partner to bag them? But it’s safe to say neither victim consented to the dismemberment and neither victim wanted to die. Anna and Jez, background on Walker’s sexual proclivities once you’ve checked out the manager.”
Taylor belched loudly. “Obviously no high-flyer this one if he was paying by the hour. Not like the other guy.”
“The credit cards he had on him, Guv. Were they anything special?”
“Bog standard, Pete. So for once, Barry,” Red said, “you’re right. Not a high-flyer. So we can probably rule out any professional connection with the previous vic. Anna and Jez, that’s on your list too.” Red turned to Metcalf and Roberts. “You two, I want a full reccy on the hotel. Not inside, obviously. That’s SOCO’s department. But check the rear exits, talk to neighbours, see if anyone spotted males or females entering or leaving in the early hours. You know the routine.
“You got it, Guv.”
Taylor wriggled himself out of the chair, his cheeks turning a pink colour from the effort, “I’ll catch up with Mac, Guv. He’s bound to need some male companionship after what he’s seen close-up.”
Red eaned her head back, she rubbed a hand over her face. “Sorry to spoil your Sunday even further, Barry, but you’re with me.”
Taylor slumped back into the chair again. “Guv?”
“No, I’m not enamoured by the idea either, Barry. But with Terri AWOL I’m a man down, so to speak. So I’m gonna have to make do with you instead.”
Chapter 32.
Anna and Harris met with James Mackenzie for coffee at a Costa saloon. They exchanged whispered information in the crowded bar. Mackenzie explained the victim had been identified by his girlfriend Katie, a twenty-seven year old brunette with a one year old son.
“Poor kid,” Anna said. “Imagine growing up to learn your father was murdered. It is his son, I presume?”
“So she says. But it’s a strange relationship.” Mackenzie leaned in to impart the information in confidence. A couple and two small children had just taken occupation of the table next to them.
“As per the manager’s observations, Walker was bi. Quite openly. He has, or rather had, a live-in relationship
with his boyfriend alongside the girlfriend and kid. Some nights he stayed at hers, some nights at his.” Mackenzie passed across a sheet of notes, including the boyfriend’s address.
“She was under the impression Walker was with Timothy Preston, the boyfriend, last night. She’s totally at a loss as to why he would be at a hotel in Streatham. But I did get from her that he’s into BDSM, so she wasn’t surprised about his being tied up that way. I didn’t give her the full SP, just that Walker had been suffocated while tied up. Obviously she’ll have to be told the details before the media tells her, but I figured she didn’t need to know everything right away.”
“Does the boyfriend know?”
“Not yet. Unless he was involved, of course. Katie gave me his details.” Mackenzie prodded the notepaper with his forefinger. “She says she and he get on well. I didn’t ask just how well, but I can imagine there were threesomes involved.”
“Gross!” Harris said loudly, attracting a turn of heads from fellow coffee-drinkers. Anna glared. Harris leant in. “Two men and one girl? No way.”
“But two girls and a man would be okay, right, Jez?” Anna asked.
“So long as they’re not mingers,” Harris said.
“God, Jez, you’re just as bad as Barry Taylor.”
Mackenzie put his hands between them. “Sorry to pull rank, guys, but we’ve a murder to solve.”
Chapter 33.
“How does that work?” Harris asked as Anna Hargreaves negotiated the weekend traffic. “His bird was pretty fit from what Mac says, they’ve popped a sprog, and yet we’re on the way to tell his bum-chum that he’ll be watching the Doris Day re-runs on his own tonight?”
Anna slapped Harris on the leg between gear changes. “Jez, seriously.”
Harris shrugged. He stared absently out of the window. “I know, it’s just weird, that’s all. I mean, it’s like me banging Nikki but having some rent boy holed up on the side.”
Anna saw an opportunity to move the conversation away from gays, at least until they arrived at Preston’s. “It seems to be quite serious between you two. With Nikki, I mean.”
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