“Still feels as though she needs a second base or bolt hole. Kind of suggests the relationship had its shaky times.”
Liz went to the white tall-boy. Starting at the top drawer, she swept her hand to the back of the drawer checked the contents and then did the same to the next one down. The bottom drawer she slid and lifted out completely. On the base of the tall-boy was a black metal box, an odd sock, a pair of knickers that had fallen from one of the drawers and a copious amount of fluff and dust. Liz tried to lift the lid of the box without success. She noted Owen’s surprise and pre-empted his question.
“Every little girl has her secret place. Love letters and the like,” she smiled. “Don’t little boys?”
Owen just pulled a face before shaking his head. “Would never remember where I’d put the stuff. Tended to dump everything on the floor. My mother used to go mad!”
“Tea’s ready!” Mrs Atkins popped her face round the door, her eyes immediately falling on the box. “What’s that?”
“It was at the bottom of this chest of drawers. I’d like to take it to the station to go through it. Do you have the key?”
“I’ve never seen it before. To be honest, I rarely came in here. Val did all her own cleaning. Once she turned seventeen, she requested that her privacy be respected. I understood that.” She pointed to the key in the door. “This is the spare. It’s normally always locked.”
“The contents will be itemised. We’ll need another twenty-minutes in here but I’m ready for a cuppa.”
Liz stood and moved to the door after placing the box on the bed. Owen never took his eyes from Mrs Atkins’s face. He could sense the fascination the box held for her but then he realised that she was aware that she was being scrutinised. She turned to leave the room.
On their return, Owen checked under the bed and Liz went through the pockets of each item of clothing hanging in the wardrobe. There was nothing, nothing of interest, that is, apart from the box.
Liz wrote out a receipt for the box and handed it to Mrs Atkins.
“We’ll return everything once the investigation is completed.”
Owen finalised his notes with a list of Valerie’s friends and colleagues before they left.
“Just one more thing, Mrs Atkins,” Owen always felt like the old TV detective Columbo when he asked a question upon leaving. He almost wanted to partly close one eye and suck his pencil for the full effect. “Did she have a computer in the house?”
“She always uses a laptop and one of those electronic pads, always carries them with her or uses the phone. Never seems to be off the thing like most young people these days. Neither Fred nor I has a computer at home, sorry. Call us old fashioned.”
Owen was surprised considering her age. “What about at work?”
“Needs must when the devil drives, Sergeant.”
“So the answer to my question, Mrs Atkins, is?
“Yes, we both use one at work and at work is where they stay.”
Owen lifted his head and nodded lightly as if to display acceptance of the answer, which he did, but just, only just.
Once in the car Liz pulled on her seat belt.
“What was all that about? What does it matter if they have a computer at work or not? We’re not investigating them we’re looking into the horrific death of their daughter.”
Owen simply looked at Liz before mumbling, “We’ll see!”
***
Cyril stared at the images on screen taken of Colin Coulson’s stomach contents. He used the remote to zoom in on the pictures taken of the paper fragments but there was nothing he could determine of relevance. He then brought up the Internet and viewed Harrogate on Google Maps, highlighting the image until it focussed on the crime scene area of Valerie Atkins’s murder. He pondered the possible routes taken by the murderer. It was amazing just how much of the area was covered by the trees; the pathway linking Harlow Moor Road and the bowling green and then the tennis courts in Valley Gardens was just visible. At the time the murder has been committed, the routes available to leave the scene were numerous. The two dog teams had found nothing, making it more than likely that the murderer had left the woodland as close to the scene as possible and made his escape by car. He made a note to that effect but concluded, ‘OR HER’ underlining it twice.
DC Stuart Park entered holding a file and dropped it on the desk next to Cyril.
“Door to door? Nothing! Fingertip search carried out up to the clearing in the park…” He pointed to the file. “Plenty, but it’s felt nothing relevant to the case. Certain items are with Forensics. You’d be amazed at the stuff that’s been trawled.”
Cyril simply lifted his eyebrows and smiled a knowing smile.
“There’s nothing that could surprise me, Stuart, nothing!” He glanced at the clock on the wall. His phone rang.
“Ruth… sorry! Yes. No, I’m coming. Got carried away here. Just give me five minutes. Sorry!”
“Damn, that’s the second appointment time that I’ve missed; I should be with John Cooper, partner of the deceased to break some bad news. I also want him to identify formally the body but we’ll see after I’ve had a word.”
“I take it from your call that Ruth’s liaising?” Stuart enquired as he read the information on the boards.
“ Yes, Ruth Jones has been attached to parents and partner.”
Stuart didn’t turn round. “Good luck to her, shit job!”
***
Cyril followed the car belonging to Ruth Jones, the Police Family Liaison Officer as they left the station. She turned off Jenny Fields Drive onto Columbus Close, slowed and stopped in front of number sixteen, a small semi-detached property. The rain had stopped but the day was grey and dull, a fitting tribute to the job in hand. A blue Mini Cooper was parked in the drive. Cyril walked up to Ruth’s car.
“Even the car’s called Cooper but you can’t get attached to that!” Cyril turned and smiled at Ruth, trying to lighten the mood for the grim part of policing that was to follow.
The front door opened before Cyril and Ruth had reached the path and John Cooper filled the frame. He had the appearance of a rugby scrum front row.
“DCI Bennett. Mr Cooper?” He held out his warrant card.
Cooper went to shake it but then saw the proffered item and blushed slightly.
“Any news Inspector?”
“Let me introduce you to your Police Liaison Officer, Ruth Jones, she’s attached to the CID and will keep you informed throughout the investig...” He didn’t finish.
“It’s bad news, I know it is. I heard nothing from the police after the call but then I get the shattering news from Valerie’s mother and then you two pop round. What the bloody hell’s going on?”
He seemed to move away from them as if they were harbingers of some unseen evil.
Cyril realised that the timing had been terrible and could see a complaint winging its way to the top office. He now knew that there was only one way to deal with this. He knew that it might be cruel and a little inaccurate but… “We’d have brought you out of work earlier today but we had to be sure that the body was Valerie’s. I’m sorry to tell you, as I realise you’re aware, that we’ve now identified the body to be Valerie’s. A post mortem is being carried out to identify the cause of death. Would you like to sit down?”
Cooper took hold of a chair arm and lowered his bulk.
“We’re aware that this comes, even second hand, as a dreadful shock but we believe Valerie was murdered, Mr Cooper.” He waited for the information to sink in. Both Ruth and Cyril watched.
“Where… where is she?” A globule of saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he fought to hold back tears.
“She’s being looked after. As it’s a murder enquiry it’s important that I find out as much as possible about her whereabouts last night. It’s crucial that we work quickly. Are you up to helping me with answering some questions?”
There was a pause before he nodded.
“Where did
Valerie go last night?”
“It’d been planned for a while, some ex University mates had come up to Harrogate for a get together, they do it every now and again. The last meeting was in Leeds.”
“Names? Do you have names?”
He nodded again. “A couple that she’s always phoning or texting. Gail, Sheila, sorry three there’s Nancy too. It’s usually a meal and then a bar and if possible a club so the finish time is usually late or early! But with it being a Sunday I assumed she’d be back just after midnight.”
Ruth added the names to the notes. “Surnames would be a great help.”
“They’ll come to me but they’re in the address book.”
“Strange night to go out late.”
“They were out Saturday too. Val slept most of Sunday. It’s a full-on weekend bash, not for the faint-hearted. They work hard and believe me, they play hard.” He pulled a strange face that meant nothing to Cyril.
“What time did she leave to go out on Sunday?”
“About six thirty. I dropped her off on Albert Street. They were meeting at Pizza Express.”
“Were they eating there?”
“Who knows!”
“Did you try to ring her during the evening?”
“No, she rang here about eleven and said she’d be home no later than one, that I should go to bed and not wait up, she’d get a taxi home. To be honest she sounded totally sober.”
“Did she say where she was at that time?”
He shook his head. “No, but it was lively, sounded more like a house party than a pub or club. I asked where she was but she just told me to stop fussing.”
“You rang 101 at…”
“About six thirty. I woke and found she wasn’t here. I checked the house and rang her mobile but nothing. I was shitting myself to be honest.” He put his hand to his mouth as if in chastisement.“Sorry, Mrs Jones.”
Ruth looked up and smiled. “Please, call me Ruth.”
“Sorry, Ruth. I rang her mum to see if she’d gone there but she hadn’t. Strangely, I checked the car and even the bath… but…” He put his head in his hands. “I should have stayed up. I could’ve gone out looking.”
“John, Harrogate’s a big place. Besides had she wanted you to collect her she’d have telephoned, yes? So, were you here all night apart from the drop off?”
“Yes, marking and preparation for the week ahead. Never stops! This so called 9 ‘til 3:30 job doesn’t exist in education, believe me!”
Cyril knew all too well about unpaid overtime. “Do you have the names and addresses?”
“No addresses, only names and telephone numbers, they’re by the phone in the hall.”
Cyril followed. “Ruth will stay a little longer and go over a few things with you. Contact her whenever and she’ll be our link.”
John moved a piece of thin metal from the top of an address book.
“What’s that?” Cyril enquired.
“God knows! Someone pushed it through the door either late Friday or early Saturday, probably kids.”
Cyril moved over to take a closer look. He removed a rubber glove from his pocket and put it on before picking up the thin rod. “It looks like a bicycle spoke. I’ll need to take it. Was there anything with it?”
“Val found it, she didn’t say. She asked if it was mine. She popped it there meaning to get rid of it I suppose.”
Cyril turned the glove inside out trapping the metal spoke inside.
“Again, Mr Cooper, my sincere condolences for your loss and sorry for your not hearing first hand from us. It’s been a bit fraught.”
Cooper simply smiled and held up a hand. “I had a really bad feeling Chief Inspector Bennett.”
At this point the floodgates opened and he leaned against the wall. Ruth came in and led him back to the chair waving for Cyril to leave.
There was still a major question circulating in Cyril’s brain as he left the house, a question concerning their relationship and his partner’s need to maintain a bolt hole. Something told him that now was neither the time nor the place. What he did have was a major clue. He presumed that the spoke was one of the five missing from the wheel found near Coulson’s body and Forensics would quickly establish that. But why would someone send a bicycle spoke to the home of another victim? What was with it, if anything?
Chapter Six
The morning briefing was anything but brief; each person stared at a series of images displayed on the large screen at the far end of the room. Liz stood to the left of it.
“These are images of the secure box we discovered at the bottom of a chest of drawers in Valerie’s room. There was no key so we assume Valerie carried it with her or concealed it elsewhere.” She flicked the corner of the screen and the image changed. “The contents are as pictured here. There seemed to be no specific order other than the way the written notes were stored. Copies of the notes are in the files you have in front of you. They were secured with a paper clip. You all, apart from Owen, will know what item two is.” She referred to a small, pink dildo.
Owen simply pulled a face as the others chuckled. He raised his hand.
“Owen?” Liz pointed to Owen.
“Miss Wurswick, it’s a lady’s little helper.” He sucked the end of his pencil.
There was more laughter.
Liz just shook her head not wanting to encourage him but blushed knowing that she had started the light-hearted diversion.
Order was quickly resumed as Cyril tapped his electronic cigarette on the table. “Can we get on?” He was neither in the mood for jokes nor banal comments.
“Sorry, Sir. It also contained a small packet of tablets, six in all, which are now with forensic toxicology, a packet of three condoms, a swimming medal and an engagement ring. It’s worth stating at this stage that she has not been engaged to John Cooper at any time and as far as her parents are concerned she has never been formally engaged; the mother has never seen it before. There was a packet of marijuana, some Rizla rolling papers and another key. We’ve no idea what that was for. Lastly, the most sensitive of items… there was a memory stick.”
Liz held the stick, the only material object evident from the cache. She inserted it into the side of the screen and an icon appeared. She clicked on that and four folder icons emerged. Each was numbered. She clicked on the first and QuickTime player appeared with a still image showing just a table. Liz clicked on the start triangle.
Everyone in the room seemed to lean either towards or away from the screen at the same time as the image became discernible and as they became suddenly aware of what they were viewing. The volume seemed loud and filled the room accompanying the images on screen. The deep breathing increased to accompany the ethereal moans and animalistic grunts; the sounds grew louder as the firm buttocks pounded frantically against the soft flesh of the folded female, enthusiastically bent and stretched over the wooden table. She wore nothing apart from a Venetian mask, decorated with curled playing cards forming a crown and an elaborate collar, the gilded lips preserved in a permanent smile. Her long fingers curled and grasped at the far edge of the tabletop, her back slightly arched to allow maximum penetration. Oil or perspiration glistened along the length of her body, reflecting the bright lights above. Suddenly the thrusting stopped. A hand leaned forward and grasped her neck before pulling her upright to her feet. Quickly, strong hands dropped to her shoulders before urgently guiding her body round whilst at the same time pushing her down to her knees. One hand went swiftly to remove the mask and obediently she opened her mouth. A hand lowered and five blue tablets were placed on the protruding tongue before the image disappeared from screen.
“Each video shows the same female but the male participants are different on each occasion. The masks too change with each recording.”
“I assume that the female is Valerie?”Cyril asked. “And the tablets look like Valium.” He turned to look at Owen. “Now those are a lady’s little helpers, if they are proven to be!”
; Owen simply stared back with the puzzled expression a child pulls when asked a mental arithmetic question.
“Pathologist has identified certain consistent body marks to conclude that the female is one and the same. They’ve also suggested that the tablets are NTZs, a form of black market Valium.”
“Obviously Valerie isn’t the dedicated, good girl her mother believes she was. A daughter wanting her total privacy at seventeen suggested something strange,” Owen grumbled. He looked around and held up the file. “It’s in our report.”
“What about the notes you mentioned; was their content significant?” Cyril spoke quickly in a desperate attempt to move things on. He never felt comfortable viewing what could only be described as pornography even though it was case-related In his time in the force it certainly was not the first and he knew it would not be the last he would see.
Liz removed the memory stick. “The others are all available on the IT case files and I suggest you look to see if there’s anything relevant. They’re being studied to see if there are any visual or audible give aways.”
She then brought up the image taken of the notes.
“They appear to be love notes. Each makes reference to a day and times but no specific dates. Note they’re all torn into a similar heart-shape. The last note…” she brought it up on screen, “it’s item 1f' in your pack.”
Sexy Sunday.
Rod like steel just thinking about you.
Any time from 24 – usual.
I’ve sweeties too for a good little girl!
X
“The other notes are similar, as you can see. All four make reference to a time or place. Each mentions a treat or some sort of surprise.”
“That’s the only one referring to a steel rod, yes?” Stuart questioned.
“Yep!”
“We have a rod of steel that was delivered to her house, we have a rod of steel that was inserted into her right eye. We now have four rods of steel still missing. Forensics confirmed that the spoke delivered to Valerie at Cooper’s house was one taken from the bicycle wheel found near Coulson’s body.”
Game Point Page 4