Prima Facie

by Netta Newbound

  Adam barred his way. “I can’t allow you to do that, sir. I’m afraid it’s a crime scene now.”

  Within minutes, the street swarmed with crime scene examiners.

  After handing over responsibility of the scene, he found Frances leaning against his car.

  “Come on, you. I’m taking you for a coffee.”

  “I told you, boss. Don’t mo—”

  He pressed his finger to her lips. “Don’t mollycoddle you. Yeah, yeah, I get the message. But not everything’s about you. Maybe I need a bit of mollycoddling. It’s not every day you’re faced with a scene like that.”

  “You’re a homicide detective. It’s what you do.”

  He shrugged. “Never-the-less, this shit gets to you sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  *

  Adam's phone rang as he walked to the table. He hurriedly placed the tray on the table and fumbled in his pocket as it stopped ringing. He rolled his eyes. "For God's..."

  Frances' phone rang.

  "Cal," they both said in unison.

  She handed him her phone.

  "Yes, Cal?"

  "Hey, boss. The faeces results are back."

  "And."

  “Definitely a match to Miles Muldoon."

  "Well, you can add Lana Davis and her dad, Dean Davis, to the list of his victims."

  "They’re dead?"

  "Both had their throats slashed while sleeping. The killer left his calling card smeared on the wall with another message."

  "Yuck."

  "Tell me about it. We're just grabbing a coffee and we'll be back. Can you find next-of-kin for the victims and also book a press release? We're going to need the public's assistance with this one. Someone knows where Miles Muldoon is hiding out."

  "Gotcha, boss."

  "And contact Pinevale Publishing. They might even have Lana’s next of kin on file."

  "Will do."

  "Oh, and one other thing, Cal." Adam looked over his shoulder to make sure Frances was out of earshot. "I need to speak to you and the team later. Can you arrange for them to be available?"

  Frances, absently making shapes in the froth on her latte with a teaspoon, looked up when he returned to the table.

  "It was a match on the..." he glanced around and lowered his voice, "...faeces."

  She nodded. "I'm not surprised."

  "We will need to speak to Sally Kemp and warn her Muldoon means business."

  "Do you want to go now?"

  "Drink your coffee first." He popped two pills into his mouth and sipped his.

  "We also need to find Muldoon’s closest friends. He must have some."

  "Sally should be able to help with that too. They were together for a while."

  He nodded. "Yeah. Let's hope so."

  Chapter 10

  Sally Kemp opened the front door of the detached stone cottage, on the outskirts of Pinevale, before Adam and Frances had the chance to knock.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been waiting for the nurse to come and sit with dad, and then I planned to come in, I promise.”

  “Sorry?” Adam shrugged, confused.

  “To make my statement. That is why you’re here, isn’t it?” She shook her head and her long red curls swished.

  “Actually, no, that isn’t why we’re here. Do you mind if we come in?”

  She stepped back and allowed them to enter the spacious and tastefully decorated entrance hall.

  “I don’t have much time. Dad’s regular nurse called in sick this morning and I’m waiting for a replacement.” She padded barefoot on the thick cream-coloured carpet through to the lounge.

  They followed and Adam admired the beautiful room adorned with exquisite artwork and quality antiques.

  “Take a seat.” Sally motioned to the two chunky, cream leather sofas.

  He and Frances sat side by side.

  “So, why are you here? Did you catch Miles? The news last night said you were trying to find him, so he must be the one who killed poor Michael.”

  “I’m afraid not. But we did receive confirmation that Mr Muldoon’s DNA is a match for the faeces found at your apartment.”

  “So you came all the way over here to tell me that?”

  With a nod of his head, Adam gestured for Frances to take over. She was more sensitive than him.

  Frances cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Sally. But it looks as though the killer has struck again.”

  “I don’t understand.” Her eyebrows screwed tight together.

  “There’s no easy way to tell you this, but Lana Davis and her father, Dean, were found dead this morning.”

  Sally gasped and clawed at the fine fabric at her throat as though suddenly claustrophobic.

  Frances moved across the room and sat beside the other woman.

  Sally crumpled into her arms and began to sob. Adam marvelled over how different it was having that woman’s touch at times like these.

  After a few moments, Sally wiped her face and tried to pull herself together. However, she still held Frances’ hand tightly in hers.

  “I had my issues with Lana, but she was just a gullible child really, you know?”

  Frances nodded.

  “I couldn’t blame her for falling for Miles’ patter. I did the same myself once upon a time.” She closed her eyes and struggled to fight back the tears. “I must go and check on Daddy. I won’t be a sec.”

  She scurried from the room. Adam couldn’t help notice the delicate beige fabric of her calf-length trousers looked like something most women would wear on a night out, not for dossing around the house in.

  “Poor woman must be petrified,” Frances said.

  “I’ll ask Cal to arrange for someone to keep an eye on the house for a few days. I can’t help but think we should’ve arranged the same for Lana yesterday.”

  “We didn’t know he would be back. It’s not your fault, boss.”

  Adam shrugged. “Makes you think though, doesn’t it? Lana asked if we thought he might come back for them. If we’d said yes, they may not have even stayed at home last night.”

  “Well, I certainly didn’t think he would be back.”

  “As detectives, we should be one step ahead of the game. There was a chance he’d come back. He killed Michael for much less than what Lana and her dad had done.”

  “Hindsight is a marvellous thing, boss.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. But I’m not making the same mistake with Sally and her dad.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Sally returned a short while later. “Sorry. Daddy could tell I was upset and made me explain everything.”

  “Well, he doesn’t need to worry. We’ll make sure someone is watching the house before dark.”

  Sally slouched in relief. “Thank God for that. I was wondering how I’d cope. Daddy can’t be moved, he’s too sick”

  “Sally, can you give us a list of all Miles’ friends and acquaintances?” Frances asked.

  “He doesn’t have many outside of the office. He used to be close to a guy called Joey when I first met him. He was the brother of his ex, and they didn’t stay in touch once he moved in with me.”

  “Who was his ex? Do you know?”

  “Yes. She made my life hell for months. Her name’s Natasha Barker. She’s the Department Manager in the Bed Superstore in Pinevale—or she was last I heard.”

  “And her brother used to be Miles’ closest friend?” Adam said.

  “Well, he was back then.”

  “Anything else you can tell us? Somewhere you think he might go? Someone he may turn to for help?” Adam ran a hand through his close-cropped hair.

  “No. He would just work, work, work. Drove me mad, to be honest. He said we didn’t need anybody else, we had each other. Then, once he made me shun all my friends, he up and left.”

  Adam got to his feet. “We’ll let you get back to your father. If you think of anything else, no matter how small, call us. The sooner we get the nasty piece of work off the streets th
e better.”

  Adam called Cal as they walked back to the car.

  “Cal, I need you to arrange for an officer to watch over Sally Kemp’s father’s house. The address is Waverley Lodge, Sutton Lane, Upper Pinevale.”

  “The DCI won’t like it, boss. He’s always going on about the budget, yada, yada, yada, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “See they are aware he used to be Chief of Police and now he’s dying of cancer. It’s the least we can do to keep them safe.”

  “Leave it with me, boss.”

  Chapter 11

  Natasha Barker, a slightly overweight, thirty-something brunette, still worked at the Bed Superstore, but she was now the Store Manager.

  A member of staff pointed her out, and, as they approached, they witnessed her tearing strips off a geeky-looking man in his twenties who appeared to be wearing his father’s suit.

  “If a customer keeps looking in your direction, you pounce. They’re not going to hand over hundreds of hard-earned pounds if you can’t be arsed checking what they’re looking for.”

  “But the last person told me to back off. They treated me like a stalker.”

  “There’s a world of difference between a stalker and a good salesperson, you idiot. Now get out there and bloody sell something.”

  She did a double take as she realised Adam and Frances were standing behind them. “Can I help you?” she snapped.

  “Natasha Barker?” Adam raised his eyebrows. He’d already decided he didn’t like this woman.

  “Yes. What can I do for you?”

  “DI Stanley and DS Frances.” They held up their badges. “Can you spare us a minute while we ask you a few questions?”

  Deep furrows appeared between her eyes. “What about?”

  “May we?” Adam gestured to her office door.

  As she stomped into the office, Adam wondered how the heels on her court shoes didn’t disintegrate under the sheer pressure.

  Piles of vacuum-packed pillows filled the small room, and Natasha climbed over them to get to her chair on the other side of the desk. “Excuse the mess. We had a double delivery by mistake, and we’ve got nowhere else for them to go.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Adam said, glad of the chance to stand. The drawing ache in his scrotum was returning. He gestured that Frances take the only other seat.

  “We believe you’re acquainted with Miles Muldoon.”

  Natasha inhaled quickly and coughed. “A long time ago, maybe.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Two years. Give or take.”

  “Two? Sally Kemp said she’s been seeing him for almost three years.” Adam scratched his head.

  Natasha shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “Are you saying you were still seeing him after he moved in with Sally?”

  She shrugged one shoulder flippantly. “Not a crime, is it? What the hell’s this about? I need to get back to work.”

  “We have reason to believe Miles has brutally murdered three people.”

  She gasped and jumped to her feet, her hands covering her mouth.

  “And I seriously suggest if you have any idea where he is, you inform us immediately.”

  “I haven’t a clue. Like I told you, I’ve not seen him for months.”

  Adam placed his elbow on the doorjamb and leaned against it, exhaling loudly. “You actually said your last contact with him was two years ago. Which is it?”

  “When he left, I was heartbroken. We’d practically lived together for six months, until Miss Prissy Knickers set her sights on him, and he was putty in her hands.”

  “He left you for Sally?” Frances’ voice was gentle.

  Adam backed off and let her fly with it.

  “Yes, but not for long. He kept coming back telling me he’d made a mistake by leaving me.”

  “And you’d sleep with him?”

  “You’ve got to understand how much I loved the man.”

  Frances nodded. “I do understand. Go on, what else happened?”

  “This continued for a few weeks on and off. He said he loved me and I stopped taking my pill. I thought if I got pregnant he would leave her once and for all.”

  “But it didn’t work?”

  She shook her head, her face twisted in disgust. “He found out and just stopped coming. Wouldn’t accept my calls or anything. So, one night, after a few too many glasses of wine, I sent his bimbo a message on Facebook. I told her everything.”

  “And what happened?”

  “The bitch got me banned off Facebook. And I never saw Miles again until he arrived on my doorstep around six months ago.”

  “What did he want after all that time?”

  Natasha raised her eyebrows. “What do they always want?”

  Frances’ eyes widened. “Sex?”

  “Got it in one. A booty call. I told him to sling his hook. I’d been engaged to Stu for a couple of months by then, and Miles was livid when he found out. I don’t think he’s used to being turned down.”

  “So what did he do?”

  “Said some horrible stuff, upended the coffee table and left. He didn’t contact me again.”

  “He wasn’t violent towards you?”

  “Not then.”

  “But he had been in the past?”

  “A few times. Nothing too bad. I mean, he didn’t hospitalise me or anything. Just the odd slap here and there. Oh, and he bit me once, that’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Adam snapped, startling her. “A man lays his hands on you and even bites you and you say, that’s all.”

  “Well, I meant it wasn’t a serious assault.” She flushed deep red from the neck up.

  Adam barked out a laugh and raised his eyes to the ceiling, incredulous.

  “Any assault is serious, Natasha,” Frances said, eyeballing Adam to shut him up. “So, that was six months ago?”

  Sufficiently put in her place, Natasha squirmed. “Near enough.”

  Frances smiled. “And your brother, Joey. Sally said they used to be friends. Are they still in touch?”

  “No. Not since the Facebook episode. They used to be good friends too, but Joey couldn’t stand Sally. He said she was a controlling bitch.”

  Adam pursed his lips, making a loud sucking sound.

  Frances bristled slightly, but ignored him. “Where can we find Joey?”

  “He’s touring South America with his new wife. Won’t be back for another month or so.”

  “Do you know Catherine Bailey?” Adam abruptly changed the subject.

  “Erm, yes. She used to go out with Miles before I met him. I don’t know where she lives now, though. You could try the gym on the High Street. She used to be an aerobics instructor there.”

  “Let me guess. He was still seeing her when he met you?”

  “They were living in the same house, but they hadn’t been intimate for months.”

  “Really?” Adam grinned. “You know, he told Sally the exact same thing about you.”

  “The lying bastard.” She shook her head in obvious disgust. “I’m such an idiot.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Natasha. He sounds like a pro.” Frances got to her feet. “Maybe you should lie low for a while. Can you stay with friends or family for a few days, at least until he’s caught? It seems he’s targeting anybody who rebuffed him, and you may well be on that list.”

  “Okay. Thanks for the warning, but I’d like to see him try.”

  ***

  Amanda looked at her watch for what felt like the hundredth time—2.15pm. “Where the bloody hell are you, Adam?”

  She got up off the stylish plastic chair and waved at the smarmy car salesman.

  “Are you all set?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

  She shrugged. “I guess so. My husband must’ve been held up.”

  “We can reschedule if you like?”

  Amanda sighed. “No. It’s okay. If he’s not here then he can’t object if I buy a car he doesn�
�t like.”

  “If that’s the case, I have a nifty, blue sports car that would look fantastic with you in the driver’s seat.”

  She laughed. “I couldn’t fit four kids and my detective inspector husband in a nifty blue sports car.”

  He coughed, straightening his tie. “Fair point. I’ll just grab the keys for you.”

  Chapter 12

  When they got back to the car, Adam noticed he’d missed a call from Cal. He dialled the station.

  “Hi, boss, a couple of things. I traced Lana’s mother and two sisters. They live in Devon. A local officer is going around there to inform her and arrange for someone to identify the bodies.”

  “That’s a relief. We’ve got one more stop to see if we can find Catherine Bailey before we head back. I’ll fill you in on everything then. What was the other thing?”

  “I managed to arrange for the PPU to keep watch over Sally for a couple of nights. If you want any more than that, you’ll have to square it with the DCI yourself. He gives me the wild shites.”

  Adam laughed. “That’ll do for now. Speak later.” He hung up and turned back to Frances who seemed miles away again. “You hungry?”

  She shook her head, sadly.

  “Tough. You’re having something to eat whether you like it or not. How’s fish and chips sound?”

  “Fattening.”

  “Good brain food is what it is.”

  Frances shook her head as he pulled the car out into the street.

  A few minutes later, he marched her into the local greasy spoon and ordered two fish meals with a large pot of tea.

  “I’ve told you. I really don’t want you treating me differently.”

  Adam popped a pill in his mouth and swallowed it with a glass of water. “Wind your neck in. I’m hungry, that’s all.”

  “You don’t fool me. This is the second cafe we’ve been in today.”

  “It’s all in your head.”

  “Alright then. When, before today, were we last in a cafe?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno.”

  Their food arrived, and Adam busied himself pouring the tea. She was right, of course. He did feel different towards her.

  “I’m sorry.” He gave her a cockeyed smile. “I can’t help it. I’m worried about you.”