by L M Krier
'I just need a cuppa. There's been another killing, on my patch again this time, which was another solid reason for letting Mr Bosko go. But I also wanted a quick word with you before I leave.'
Winters put the kettle on and showed Ted where everything was to brew up, sorting out coffee for himself.
'Are you on duty today, or did you just come in with the boots? Who else is on? I must admit, I expected to see more signs of life, with an ongoing investigation and no confession yet from the suspect.'
'It's always a bit, well, fluid, here of a weekend. The DI will probably pitch up at some point, and maybe the DS.'
'Can I ask you a personal question?' Ted asked him.
Again, the DC looked surprised that he would even ask before posing his question. He nodded warily.
'Why here? Why this nick, this team? They don't exactly have the best reputation in the force, and I can already see why.'
'It's handy. I live with my mum, sir. She's … she has health problems. I have to keep an eye on her, so I didn't want to move away. It's not what I would have chosen, and I don't agree with everything the DI and the team get up to. I just have to keep my head down and stick it out, for the convenience.'
Ted nodded his understanding. 'Fair enough. Right, I don't want this to go any further but the DI and DS, as well as DC Coombs, are going to be rather tied up for the rest of the day. Something related to this case.
'Now we know that Mr Bosko is definitely not our man, we need to pull out all the stops to find who is. I want you to get out there again and try to find anyone who saw Mr Hutchinson in any of the pubs, or maybe restaurants, starting with the Red Lion. I want witnesses who might be able to tell us who he was with and, more importantly, anyone else who was around. Particularly anyone who may have been watching them. You know as well as I do that the sooner we can get witness statements, the more likely they are to be accurate.
'Ring me later today, let me know how you got on, what you found out. We've wasted time looking in the wrong direction. Now I need you to get us back on track, take the case forward in the right one. It looks as if it's just you for now, so show me what you can do.
'I also need you to agree not to contact the DI or any of the rest of the team for now. If any of them phone you, just don't take the call. Can I trust you on that?'
Winters looked him directly in the eye. 'Count on me, sir.'
Ted drove directly to the hotel address Jo had given him, near to Cheadle. He showed his warrant card to the uniformed constable at the entrance door as he went in. Once inside, a pale-faced young woman on reception, looking visibly shaken by events, directed him up to the second floor. Mike Hallam was standing outside an open bedroom door, looking a bit green around the gills. He was chatting to another young uniformed constable.
'What have we got, Mike?' Ted asked, as he greeted them both.
'Jo kindly left me at the door, boss, when I told him what happened to me last time. He's in there with the Professor, and from what he's told me so far, it's exactly the same as the last one on our patch.'
Ted put his head around the door. He was surprised to see Bizzie working away inside, near to where a pair of naked, hairy legs protruded past the end of the bed. She looked up as he tapped an already gloved hand against the door for permission to enter the crime scene.
'Ah, Chief Inspector, do come and join us. Just watch the markers SOCO have put out where they've not yet finished.'
'I didn't expect to see you here, Professor,' Ted replied, also keeping it formal in company.
'I drew the short straw as I didn't have a good excuse to hand when the call came in. And as I did the first one, it was thought appropriate that I should take this one as well.'
Jo appeared from the shower room, looking remarkably chipper, seemingly unaffected by the blood spray and brain tissue Ted could see even before he went into the room.
'Almost certainly the same attacker, boss,' Jo told him. 'Pretty much the same MO as before, from the reports. Multiple stab wounds and serious injuries to the head and face, which the Professor confirms were caused by a man's work boot, almost certainly with steel toecaps. I was just checking in the shower room. It looks once again as if he was interrupted in the act of taking a shower and his attacker stabbed him almost the moment he opened the door.'
'Time of death, Professor?'
'I'll need to confirm it, but shortly after midnight again would be my best guess so far.'
Ted was looking carefully round the small room, not yet moving around. There was not a lot of space, with the SOCOs already working in a relatively confined area. He took a step further inside, just enough to see more of the body.
The dead man lay face down, between the bed and the wall. He had a towel around his waist. Another, which had presumably been draped round his shoulders when he got out of the shower, had slipped to the ground next to him. He appeared to be of average height and slightly overweight. Even with his face squashed into the carpet and turned partly to the side, Ted could see the extent to which it had been ravaged. Once again, there was not going to be a lot for the next of kin to identify.
'Identity?' he asked Jo. There was no need for him to go in and rummage round, getting in everyone's way, if his DI had already done a thorough job, and he had no reason to believe he wouldn't have.
'George Gildyke, from Suffolk. His cards say he's a financial advisor, but looking at the budget hotel and the labels in his clothes, I'm wondering if that's a fancy name for a life insurance salesman, boss. He was forty-eight. He's a nice organised sort, next of kin listed in his diary as Mrs Vera Gildyke, at the same address.'
'Wedding ring?'
'In his jacket pocket,' Jo told him with a grin. 'I suspect we're looking at another naughty boy playing away. His car keys were on the table there. It's a Ford, so I was just going to send Mike out into the car park to point them at any Ford he spots, see what else we can find out.'
Ted nodded his approval and passed the keys to Mike outside the door. 'See if you can find the car, after we've finished here, check if there's anything obvious to interest us inside it. Then get SOCO on to checking it.'
He turned back into the room. 'No signs of the weapon in the room again, I imagine? Do we know what it was, Professor?'
'It's not been found in the room, and I don't like to guess, but the wounds look similar to the last one. I would say a decent type of kitchen knife. Easy enough to come by. I'll be able to give you the size of the boots which did the damage when I get him back, but again, it looks like the same as the previous one.'
Ted was busy looking at the inside door handle. As before, he could see signs of shampoo or shower gel there. It seemed to be the now familiar pattern of the man having been taking a shower just before he went to answer the door.
'Any signs of company in the bed?' he asked the nearest SOCO.
'We've got long hairs, which were certainly not the victim's, and there are what look like semen stains on the sheets.'
'Laptop and mobile?'
'Bagged and ready to go to Océane,' Jo told him.
Ted was impressed, and feeling slightly redundant. He couldn't think of anything his new DI hadn't covered already.
'Witnesses?'
'Sal and Virgil are downstairs now, with a couple of Uniforms, talking to staff and any guests, to see what they can find out from them. Also asking about CCTV.'
'When can you do the post-mortem for us, Professor?'
'Not until Monday morning, I'm afraid,' she replied brusquely. 'There is somewhere I have to be tomorrow and it can't be altered. But I can start it at seven on Monday, for whichever of you gentlemen would care to join me?'
'I've got it, boss, if you like,' Jo told him. 'You've got enough on your hands with the rest of the case, I'm sure.'
Ted jerked his head to Jo to get him to join him, picking up Mike on the way. They walked together to the end of a corridor, which appeared a quiet enough place for Ted to bring them up to date with all that had
been going on with the case in South Manchester.
Jo whistled and said, 'I've not heard anything good about Cyril Foster and his team, that's for sure, but this is sounding worse by the minute. Surely even he isn't stupid enough to think they'd get away with trying to fake evidence like that?'
'I think it's highly likely that if the DSU and I hadn't put a stop to them interviewing the suspect again, they'd have got a confession out of him somehow, so nobody would have looked too hard at the evidence and lack of witness ID.
'It means we're back to square one, with no suspect, and that team is down three members, so we're going to have to do some juggling. DC Winters is promising. With the right support, he might be all right, but I don't know about the others who are left. I don't know what their involvement was, or if they can actually do their jobs at all, never mind properly.'
Ted didn't like to spoil the team's weekend unless he had to, but now with three killings almost certainly down to the same person, he needed to get everyone together to take stock.
'I'm sorry to bugger up everyone's weekend plans, but I think I'm going to call a full team meeting for first thing tomorrow morning, with what remains of Foster's team. And since we now have two deaths on our patch, we'll host the meeting. Everyone there, all of ours and Foster's remaining three. Mike, can you ring round, please. Eight sharp, no excuses. Blame it on me. At least it means some of them can have the rest of the day to themselves, once we've assigned tasks. The DSU has the purse strings on this and I think he'll stand the overtime, just to see some progress. I'll let the Super know.'
'Do you want Océane in on it too, boss?' Jo asked him. 'She did say she would be willing to come in outside her normal hours, if ever it was necessary.'
There was something about the way he said it that made Ted concerned once more that there might possibly be something, if not yet going on, then brewing up between the two of them. Not what he needed.
Ted nodded and continued, 'Jo, I think either you or I need to be overseeing Foster's team most of the time. And they need a DS to keep them in line. Mike, do you want it, or do you think Rob is up to the task?'
'Happy to do it boss, but I'd say why not let Rob have a crack? It may be a baptism of fire for him, but it might also be just what he needs to get his teeth into,' Mike suggested, heading off towards the stairs to start looking for the victim's car.
Ted turned back to his DI. 'Jo, where are we at with the deaths at Sabden House? I don't want to lose sight of that with everything else that's going on. Three unusual deaths now in a comparatively small block of flats needs looking into.'
'We're on it whenever we have a spare minute, and anything else still on the books. Virgil's been asking around. He seems to have good street contacts. So far no one knows anything about heroin of that quality on the patch, although a few of them have asked him where they can score some.'
'I think it may be time to introduce you to our tame news-hound, Pocket Billiards. If anyone knows of shady dealings and secret planning applications involving that building, he will,' Ted told him. 'He may not have the nicest table manners you've ever seen, but he's like a dog after a bone for a good story, and he usually ferrets out all the detail. Handled correctly, he can save us a lot of legwork.
'Right, let's get started on checking witnesses here and retracing the victim's last known movements. Get Mike to call the nick local to the victim and ask them to let the wife know. And please remind me, before we all knock off this evening, that I'm meant to be picking up a takeaway. If I go home empty-handed, Mr Gildyke's death is not likely to be the only one you'll have to investigate. Especially when I tell Trev I've called an early morning meeting for tomorrow.'
Chapter Nineteen
Ted knew he shouldn't have been surprised that Foster's remaining team members turned up late for the Sunday morning briefing, but he was still disappointed. All of his own officers were in ahead of time. Even DC Maurice Brown had come in, although he was not officially back from sick leave until the following day. He was looking amazing, after his close encounter with death, and was welcomed back warmly by the whole team.
They were using the station's conference room on the ground floor, where there was slightly more room than in the cramped main CID office, with Ted's own extra officers as well as those from Foster's patch. Assuming they ever arrived, Ted thought to himself angrily, trying to keep a lid on his temper.
When they did finally roll in, only DC Winters had the grace to look contrite and mutter an apology. The other two, clearly Foster's men and anxious to prove it, sauntered in arrogantly and looked around for seats without saying a word, not even in greeting.
'Eight sharp was the instruction,' Ted told them. 'We have a lot of ground to cover and the later we start, the later we finish.'
'Just a bit further than we thought,' one of them, DC Charlie Eccles, said without a shred of remorse. It was a pathetic excuse, and everyone present knew it. Yet more boundary pushing Ted could have done without. He decided to let it go once again, for now, at least. They had far more important things to discuss. But he did intend to have strong words with them before he let them go for the day. He was a fairly laid-back boss, who still managed to run a tight ship. He didn't like the blatant disrespect of their attitude.
'So, victim number three, George Gildyke. What do we know about him so far? Jo?'
The DI gave them all the details they had discovered at the hotel, and all that they had learned from talking to possible witnesses. Once again, it didn't amount to a great deal.
'The guy in the next room thinks he heard someone in the corridor saying something about maintenance, probably around midnight, but he was, erm, rather busy himself with a lady friend so said he didn't take much notice,' he added.
'We need to find Gildyke's lady friend. We should be looking at anything which links the victims to our man. Suki was adamant she has no jealous partner or former other half, but it could be someone she's dismissed as not being significant,' Ted was musing aloud. 'What is motivating our killer? Are the women the victims have slept with known to him in some way? Jealousy of some sort?'
'Have we got links with Linda Lovelace to all three yet?' Jezza asked.
There was a snort of laughter from both DCs Eccles and Chris Hope at the name, which was clearly not unknown to either of them, though possibly not in connection with the case.
'Linda Lovelace, darlin'? Is that what you think the case is all about?' DC Eccles sneered.
Jezza was just about to respond when Maurice beat her to it. 'I wouldn't make her angry, bonny lad. You wouldn't like her when she's angry.'
He said it mildly enough but the warning was clear behind his tone. He'd recently lost most of the spare flab he'd been carrying around but he was still solid and bulky. Although he knew Jezza could usually more than take care of herself, with her sharp tongue and kickboxing skills, he still felt strongly protective of her.
'That's enough,' Ted said sharply. 'Too much time has already been wasted on this case. We need to concentrate on the matter in hand. DC Eccles, am I to assume that you've not yet read the full file on the first case? If you had, you would know the significance of the reference to Linda Lovelace. Make sure you read up on it thoroughly, before you leave here today. And that goes for anyone else who's not up to speed.'
DC Eccles was clearly stubborn and didn't know when it was best to quit while he was ahead.
'What if the three cases aren't linked? We had a perfectly good suspect in custody, with DNA evidence likely to back it up, and the boss was hopeful of an early confession.'
Ted's own team saw the change in his body language, and spotted the danger signs of his eye colour turning a menacing shade of dark green. Eccles clearly had no idea of just how thin was the ice which he'd ventured on to.
'Everyone listen carefully, please,' Ted's voice was deliberately quiet so they all had to pay close attention to what he was saying. 'I'm not going to repeat myself. Pawel Bosko has been cleared of any suspe
cted involvement in this case. That goes for all three of the murders. The DNA evidence was not safe and is the subject of a separate enquiry.
'We are proceeding on the basis that one man is responsible for all three deaths to date. Which means that what we are looking for is something which ties the suspect – the man we are referring to as Linda Lovelace, for now - either to the women involved, or to the three victims. Possibly both. We are also going on the assumption that the link is likely to revolve around online dating, casual sexual encounters, pub singles nights.
'So now would everyone please concentrate and think of possible angles we've overlooked to date.'
He looked round the table expectantly. Océane spoke first.
'Clearly I've not yet had the time to look at the laptop and phone of the third victim, boss. But a possible link has occurred to me already.'
'Go on,' Ted encouraged her.
'I think a keyword here might be investment. Our first victim, Duncan Waters, sold solar panel systems. In between the smut I've had to wade through, he liked to portray himself as a knight in shining armour. One who could ride to the rescue of poor little women with more money than sense and show them how to invest in a planet-saving green energy system, which would see them in clover for the rest of their days.'
'But wasn't the second one, Richard Hutchinson, a Health and Safety consultant?' Rob O'Connell queried. 'Where's the investment aspect in that?'
'He liked to brag about having big clients in the financial sector. Banks, investment companies, that sort of thing. Part of his chat-up line was to hint at having his finger on the pulse of the financial world.'
'And our victim number three called himself a financial advisor,' Jo reminded them. 'But just from a first glance, I think he was more of an insurance salesman, and his so-called investment advice would probably consist of selling someone a life insurance policy.'
'So what if we're looking at someone who's set themselves a mission of avenging women who've been swindled out of their money by someone promising them gilt-edged investments?' Steve suggested. 'What if the motive isn't actually sexual at all but financial?'