Prima Facie

by Netta Newbound

“I think we need to report this, Bill. You understand that, don’t you?” she said.

  Tears spilled from his eyes when he nodded. “Everything’s got out of hand. It started with a fear of dirt. Going out into the corridor freaked her out, but I could see why, it was filthy. Then, if she saw any dust motes floating in the sunshine, she’d go berserk and insist we clean the flat from top to bottom. That’s the reason we never open the curtains any more.”

  “Bill, this can’t go on. Obviously we are here over something totally different today, but if you like, I’ll arrange for Joanie to be assessed by a professional. If it goes untreated this will only escalate. I can promise you that.”

  “Yes, okay then. I’m aware something needs to be done.”

  Adam uncrossed his legs and sat forward on his seat. “Bill, we’ll need a way to contact you. Do you talk to any of your neighbours?”

  “Yes. The young woman next door is friendly, and I always hear her phone ringing.”

  “Great. Could you go and ask for her number?”

  When Bill left, Adam got to his feet. “It’s stifling hot in here. I need some fresh air.”

  Frances made a face as she wafted her hand in front of her. “The heating must be on full.”

  Bill returned with a phone number. “Here you go. She said she’s home most days, so there shouldn’t be an issue getting hold of me.”

  “We’ll be off now then, Bill,” Frances said, handing him her card.

  “I’ll walk down with you. I still need to do the shopping.”

  “Will Joan be all right?”

  “She will have taken a pill. I probably won’t see her until tonight, now.” He grabbed his shopping trolley and led them out to the corridor.

  “It’s out of order,” Adam said, when he stopped at the lift.

  “Just the ground floor lift is broken. We can get out on the first floor and walk down one flight.”

  Frances made a face at Adam.

  “Well, how was I to know?”

  “Did you walk up the whole way?” Bill smiled.

  She nodded. “Yes, and I don’t recommend it.”

  They travelled down in silence, and once outside they watched the old man shuffle away, pulling his bag behind him.

  “Well, that was an experience,” Adam said.

  “I know. How the hell did it get so out of hand?”

  Adam shook his head. “Beats me. But she must have seen a doctor because he said she takes pills.”

  “True. That doctor deserves to be struck off.”

  Adam dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Cal’s been ringing,” he said, returning the call.

  “Hey, boss. I have the details of the second victim.”

  “Go on.”

  “Angela Smith, a thirty-five year old mother of two. Should I send Les and Julie to inform the husband?”

  “No. We’re free now so we can go.”

  “Okay, boss. I’ll text you the address.”

  Chapter 21

  The home of Angela Smith was a far cry from the rough council estate where she spent her last night on earth. It always made him think about the what if scenario when things like this happened to a person.

  If Natasha had kept her opinions to herself, at least until Muldoon was caught and behind bars, she and her friend would today be going about their business just like everybody else. But life didn’t work like that.

  “You okay, Frances?” His partner had been silent for the entire fifteen-minute journey.

  “Yes. I’m thinking about Mr Morris. What an awful way to live.”

  “I know, shocking. What’s more shocking to me though, is how he let it get so bad before asking for help.”

  “Are we here?” She glanced up and scanned the street.

  “Yep. Are you ready to do this?”

  “As I’ll ever be.”

  “Listen, if this is too much for you, I’ll understand. As I’ve already told you, I would much rather you take this time off to spend with Steve.”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped.

  “Okay, keep your hair on. Let’s do this, and then we can stop for a cuppa somewhere.”

  A dark-haired, wiry man answered the door, holding an infant who, Adam guessed, was around eighteen months old.

  “Mr Smith?”

  The man nodded pulling the child even closer to him.

  “I’m DI Stanley and this is my colleague, DS Frances, can we—”

  “That was quick! Come on in.” He walked away leaving them with their mouths agape.

  Adam glanced at Frances.

  She shrugged and followed the man inside.

  The modest house seemed homely and well cared for. Messages of love hung from every wall, from heart-shaped carvings to paintings and written love declarations.

  In one corner of the lounge hung several pink heart-shaped balloons secured with a ribbon fastened to the frame of a wedding photograph.

  “Sit, sit. I dug out a couple of recent photographs of my Angie.” He nodded to the coffee table which had three close-up images of his wife lined up.

  They sat side by side on the sofa opposite him.

  “And she was wearing a brown skirt and cream coloured Tshirt when I last saw her, but I presume she took something else to wear considering she planned going to the pub.”

  Adam cleared his throat. “Mr Smith, it seems we are at cross-purposes here.”

  “Call me Ben.”

  Adam nodded. “Ben, I’m assuming you’ve called the station regarding the disappearance of your wife.”

  He glanced from Adam to Frances, a bewildered expression on his face. “Yes, that’s right. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

  Frances shuffled to the edge of the oversized sofa and glanced at Adam for silent approval.

  He nodded, relieved she wanted to take the lead.

  “Is there anybody who could take the child for a short time, Ben?”

  His forehead crinkled. “My mum lives on the next street, but why?”

  “Could you call her, please?”

  He staggered to his feet and reached for the landline handset beside the television. He pressed a few numbers and Adam heard the ringing tone from across the room.

  “Hello-oo?” an elderly female voice said.

  “Mum, can you come over? The police are here. Something’s wrong.”

  “But...”

  “Just come, Mum. I need you.” He hung up.

  Frances’ knee began twitching up and down.

  “You okay?” Adam mouthed.

  She shrugged him off and smiled as Ben returned to his seat. “How old’s the baby?”

  “She’s fifteen months.”

  “She’s a big girl. What’s her name?”

  “Charmaine.” He flapped his hand impatiently. “Listen, I need to know what’s wrong. Can’t you just tell me, please?”

  Frances smiled apologetically. “Best we wait a few more minutes.”

  He got up again and plonked the baby down amongst a pile of toys and reached for an electronic cigarette.

  “I could do with a real one, right now.” He took a deep drag of the pen-like object, and smoky vapours escaped his mouth.

  Seconds later, the front door slammed open and a woman, who appeared to be in her late sixties, rushed in.

  The man reached for her hands and pulled her down beside him on the lounge chair. “This is my mother, Vera.”

  Vera stared at Adam and Frances. “Ben! What’s happened?”

  He shook his head. “They haven’t told me yet.”

  Frances watched the little girl as she played with her toys. Adam took that as his cue to take the lead.

  “There’s no easy way to tell you this, Ben. But...” He cleared his throat. “...we found your wife’s body this morning.”

  “Her body?” he asked, flatly.

  “She’s dead, I’m afraid.”

  The inhuman wails that belched out of Ben made Adam’s stomach churn.

  The baby began
to scream, and Frances looked to Vera who was ineffectively trying to comfort her son.

  Frances lifted the child into her arms, gently cooing and calming her.

  The child wriggled, wanting only to get to her daddy.

  After a few minutes Ben noticed, and, easing away from his mother, held his arms out for his little daughter.

  Frances didn’t need much encouragement and immediately handed the child over.

  They waited for the initial shock to sink in, knowing they would be bombarded with questions.

  Ben eventually handed the baby to his mother and got to his feet. After pacing the room several times, he turned to them, pleading with his eyes. “Are you sure it’s her?”

  “We will need a formal identification, Ben. But we are quite certain it is your wife. Where did you think she was?”

  “She went out with her friend, Tash, whose boyfriend was working away and she needed a shoulder to cry on. I wanted to put my foot down, but Angie hadn’t had a night out since before the baby was born and I caved. I knew she’d have a skinful, and we couldn’t afford taxis, so she planned to get her head down there and come home early this morning. When she didn’t arrive, I knew something terrible must’ve happened. She would never miss taking little Dane to school.”

  “Dane?” Frances asked.

  “Our son. He’s six. We always drive him to school. He goes to Pinevale West, but she had the car, so Mum had to take him. What happened? Did she crash?”

  Adam glanced at Frances who nodded.

  “She was murdered, Ben.”

  “No! Why? It can’t be her. Who would want to harm my Ang? She loves everyone.” He gave several vigorous shakes of his head.

  “We think she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Frances said. “As far as we’re aware, Natasha was the main target, and Angela must’ve got in the way. I’m so very sorry.”

  “Do either of you work, Ben?” Adam asked.

  “Yes. We work together as wedding planners. Angela promotes the fact we are so happy and have the perfect marriage to snare the clients. They always want what we have...” He shook his head.

  Frances sighed.

  Adam’s heart broke for them both. He knew what despair they were both facing in the coming months.

  “How well did you know Natasha Barker?” Frances asked.

  “I didn’t. Not really. She was a friend of Angela’s from before we met, but I didn’t like her very much, to be honest. And I think the feeling may have been mutual as she never called around here when I was home. Maybe if I’d been a little more tolerant of her, Angie would have felt she could invite her to stay here last night instead of going there.”

  “You can’t blame yourself, Ben. Nobody could have predicted what would happen. When Natasha gave an interview to the press last night, we never for one minute expected she would be targeted herself. Not so soon anyway.”

  “So she brought this on herself and dragged my Angie into it?”

  “It seems so, sir. I’m terribly sorry.”

  Ben’s mother had sat silently listening as she comforted the baby who, against all odds, now slept soundly in her arms. Adam almost welled up as he glanced at the child’s dainty features, the sweep of her long eyelashes lying on her upper cheeks. She was oblivious as to what had happened. Yet he had no doubt the effects would stay with her for the rest of her life.

  He gave Frances the nod to wrap it all up, and soon after, they left Ben on the doorstep sobbing his eyes out.

  “You okay?” Adam opened the car.

  “Will you stop asking me that?” She climbed into the passenger seat and waited for him to slide in beside her. “No! If truth be told, I’m not okay, but I’m coping. Yes, I find it difficult to see the pain and heartache death brings to a family. And it’s doubly hard knowing I’m going to have to deal with it too, in the not too distance future. But honestly, this is much better than the alternative.”

  “I get it. Of course, I do. But it doesn’t stop me from worrying about you.”

  “I know. Now, did you promise me a sarny before?”

  “Yep. But you’re not having the luxury of stopping in an upmarket diner. Oh, no, young lady. You can grab a snack on the run like every other copper worth their salt. Do you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear, boss.” She laughed. “And thanks. I need you to work my arse to the bone.”

  “Be careful what you wish for.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her as he put the key in the ignition and started the car.

  “Bring it on. I’m up for a challenge.”

  Chapter 22

  They grabbed a handful of sandwiches from the bakery and took them to the station.

  “So what’s happening?” Adam asked when they arrived back.

  Cal dove into the bag and snaffled a ham salad roll. “The same as before. Nobody saw a thing. The adjoining neighbour thought she might have heard a scream, but she was asleep and hasn’t a clue of the time.”

  “How’s Julie getting on with the CCTV footage?”

  The main roads in and out of Pinevale town centre were the only ones covered by CCTV, but he figured it must be worth a shot.

  “Nothing yet. The roundabout by the hotel showed a late model Land Rover Discovery and a green Volkswagen Passat within the time frame. But none of them flagged up anything of interest.”

  “Oh, well.” Adam unwrapped a chicken and stuffing sandwich on granary bread and took a huge bite. He was famished.

  He filled Cal in on their day so far while Frances took her sandwich to her desk.

  “It’s looking bad, hey, boss?” Cal said, mid-bite.

  “I hope something comes to light soon, or we’re done for. I’ve been giving DCI Williamson the runaround since yesterday, but he’ll want to collar me today for an update and no doubt a bollocking.” Adam threw the last of the sandwich to the desk, not hungry anymore.

  “How do they expect results when there’s nothing to go on, boss? Even releasing Muldoon’s image on the news produced very few calls, and the ones we did receive were from obvious nut jobs.”

  Adam nodded. “They don’t see it like that. They want results at head office otherwise they’ll threaten to send in the big boys.”

  “Well, good luck to them. Surely they know by now, if you can’t find them, no-one can.”

  Adam smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cal.”

  ***

  Frances nibbled on her sandwich and proceeded to check her emails. She kept one ear on what Adam and Cal were saying and agreed the shit would land at Adam’s feet before too long.

  Their superiors weren’t interested in reasons or excuses, only results. The unreasonable way they piled on the pressure meant some dubious officers would put anybody in the frame rather than admit they couldn’t crack a particular case.

  But they knew the killer in this case—they just couldn’t bloody well find him.

  “Frances,” Adam called over as he headed to his office. “You and Cal may as well take the weekend off unless something else turns up, in which case, I’ll call you. It’s pointless us all sitting around twiddling our thumbs, and, no doubt, Les and Julie will be around as usual.”

  Her first instinct was to bite his head off again, eager to drum into him she wanted no special treatment. Then she realised he would have done the same last weekend and the one before if there was nothing happening. She needed to stop being so touchy. “You sure?” she said, instead.

  “Certain. But don’t go off gallivanting. If anything comes to light, you’ll have to get your backsides in here quick smart.”

  “Let’s hope Muldoon doesn’t strike again tonight. He’s not missed a night since this killing spree began,” Cal said.

  “Good point, although I hope there aren’t many people left for him to want dead,” Frances said.

  Adam paused, fingering the doorframe of his office. “Who knows what’s going on in his head? He may well start popping off everyone he’s ever argued with. He’s certainl
y not in his right mind.”

  The rest of the afternoon passed in a flash. Adam was summoned to meet with the DCI at police headquarters in London. Frances stayed behind to catch up on some overdue paperwork.

  Cal got the call confirming that the faecal matter all came from the same person, surprise, surprise. And the results of the autopsies for Lana and Dean Davis provided nothing new, except to confirm the time of death for both was between 2.00am and 4.00am on Thursday.

  Ginger Dave, Les, and Julie all returned to the station before heading off for the day. Julie and Les confirmed they intended to be around for the weekend as usual.

  Frances waited until Cal began climbing into his bike leathers, and, after packing her things away, walked out with him to the car park.

  “How are things at home?” Cal asked.

  “Not good. A few of Steve’s workmates were due to visit today. To say their goodbyes.”

  Cal stifled a gasp. “Sorry,” he said. “It just sounds so dreadful—knowing you’re about to die.”

  “I think he must have guessed, but we haven’t told him outright. How could we?”

  Cal shook his head. “You amaze me. I haven’t a clue how you’re coping with something as massive as this.”

  “Who says I am. I think I’m on autopilot, going through the motions so I don’t crack up.”

  “If you ever need...”

  She nodded and squeezed his arm before turning towards her two-door Rav 4. “Call me if anything else occurs. I’ll be right in.”

  “I will, I promise.” Cal put on his helmet and straddled his scooter.

  Frances laughed. “You know how gay you look on that thing?” she called over to him.

  He shouted something back but the helmet muffled the words.

  She waved and jumped in her car.

  Once Cal had driven off, she let the happy façade fall away taking her smile and sturdy posture with it. She felt her entire body slump at the prospect of what lay ahead.

  Guilty pangs forced her to turn the key and point the car in the direction of home. Then, she got guilty pangs for the fact that the guilty pangs were the only reason she was heading home at all.

  The house was silent when she let herself in which was a surprise. Val was usually fluttering about in the kitchen at this time of day. She blamed her Irish background for the fact she always made mountains of food every single day even though most of it went to waste.