Then there was the issue of keeping information from the team. If her letter added anything to what they already knew about its sender, she wouldn’t hesitate to report it. But as far as she could tell, the letter was the same as the others they had seen. Even so, it was possible the writer had slipped up and left a fingerprint or clear trace of DNA on this one. Since it hadn’t been addressed to her by name, she could take it to Archie and have him check it without anyone else finding out about it. She would make up some story about having forgotten to put it through the system, and ask him to make an unofficial check. If he discovered anything useful, she would have to reveal what had happened. If not, she could keep quiet with a clear conscience.
Finally she had to consider the implications to her personal security. She definitely wasn’t happy knowing the killer had discovered her address. Either he had hacked into her private accounts, or else he had followed her home. She would have to be vigilant. There was CCTV in all public areas of her building meaning that no one could reach her front door unobserved, and her own alarm system would automatically trigger an alert at the police station should anyone enter her flat uninvited. So, considered objectively, the threat to her personal safety was actually minimal. It was a difficult decision, but she decided to keep quiet about the letter she had received, at least until she had asked Archie to check it out.
For the first time she realised that she desperately wanted to stay in York where she was beginning to feel settled, and make friends. And she was working with Ian again.
46
On her way into work Geraldine dropped her letter off, sealed in an evidence bag, with clear instructions that Archie was to contact her directly if he discovered any clues as to the sender.
‘It’s entirely my fault,’ she confided with her best pretence at an embarrassed smile. ‘I left this one behind. I could get in serious trouble for that, and I’ve already got myself into hot water recently, so I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone else. Just call me with any feedback you have and I’ll come and see you straight away.’
That morning Leah was released, the search of her flat and the surrounding land having failed to yield any result. They had to either charge her or let her go, and without any evidence to back up Eileen’s suspicions, there was no point in initiating formal proceedings. She had been in custody when the letters had been posted, and there was no sign of her having travelled to York on the evening Stephanie had been murdered, or of her driving out of Uppermill on the night Peter’s body had been deposited on the Tadcaster Road.
Eileen determined they should focus their attention on tracking down the gun that had been used to kill Bethany. This was, without doubt, their most pressing task for more reasons than one.
‘It must be somewhere,’ the detective chief inspector barked, glaring around the room as though the assembled officers could be bullied into revealing where the gun was hidden. ‘We need to find out where it came from, and crucially where it is now.’
Geraldine watched a pale and shaky Leah collect her belongings and walk out of the police compound looking dazed. Leaving the building, she blinked and lifted her face to the open sky and stood perfectly still for a moment to feel the fresh breeze on her skin. Through the window, Geraldine thought she saw tears glistening on Leah’s cheeks as she shuffled out of the police compound. Geraldine wondered if life was more difficult for someone who surrendered easily to their emotions, or whether the challenge was greater for people who suppressed their feelings. Geraldine’s own self-control was a combination of a natural predilection for privacy, and her strict training in concealing her feelings. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to constantly break down in tears.
Most of the team, including Eileen, were convinced that Leah must be guilty, yet, despite their best efforts, they had been unable to find any evidence that placed her at any of the crime scenes. Meanwhile she continued to insist that she had been at home on all of the evenings when the murders had been committed. Having observed her closely, Geraldine really couldn’t believe Leah capable of killing someone in the heat of the moment, let alone of carrying out a series of cold-blooded premeditated murders. She kept her opinion to herself, aware that she was in the minority.
‘If it was her, we’ll get her,’ Eileen grumbled. ‘It’s only a matter of time. We’ll just have to hope there aren’t any more victims before we stop her.’
Naomi nodded solemnly and a few other colleagues muttered, frowning.
‘Someone must know what she’s done,’ Eileen went on. ‘We need to persuade people to start talking. So let’s get on to everyone who knows her, and see what we can dig up about her past. Is there any history of violence?’
‘You mean like drowning kittens when she was a child?’ a young constable piped up.
Eileen ignored the interruption. ‘And in the meantime, I want her kept under twenty-four hour surveillance. If she does try anything else, we’ll be there to catch her in the act and prevent any more fatalities.
With so much expense about to be thrown at Leah, Geraldine could no longer remain silent. ‘I just don’t believe a hysterical girl like Leah would be able to keep quiet about her activities, not if she’s really been running around killing people. The idea of her being discreet just doesn’t ring true. You’ve seen how little self-control she has.’
‘People who lack self-control are more likely to snap,’ Naomi replied promptly.
‘These are not the actions of someone who just snapped,’ Geraldine said. ‘These were carefully thought-out attacks. How else would the killer have got away with committing three murders?’
‘And there are the letters,’ Ariadne said.
‘We don’t know the letters were sent by the killer,’ Naomi pointed out.
That was true.
‘Have we made any progress with finding out who sent them?’ Eileen asked.
Geraldine kept quiet.
Having been unable to establish where the letters came from, Eileen decided it was time to question all the local people who had known the victims, including the surviving members of that ill-fated class at school, the headmistress, and any other members of staff who had been at the school when the victims and the surviving classmates had been at school together. One of them might come up with a lead as a result.
Ian set to work co-ordinating a team to question all the staff and former staff of the school again, while Geraldine went to see Ashley. She hadn’t spoken to her for about a week and was taken aback at the change in her appearance. No longer in shock, Ashley was attractive, with soft blue eyes and light blond hair that fell in loose curls down to her shoulders. She was slim and undeniably pretty, with that kind of quiet beauty that seemed to suggest she had a sympathetic nature. Although Geraldine liked her at once, she was fully aware that outward charm was no guarantee of decency or even sanity. She had encountered too many psychopaths with a similar engaging warmth to set any store by appearances.
Ashley was still staying with her neighbour, Gloria, in the flat above the one where she had been living with Stephanie. Gloria opened the door and smiled a welcome.
‘Ashley’s still here,’ she confided, as though Geraldine didn’t know that. ‘My daughter’s away at college, so I’m happy to put the poor girl up for as long as it takes. They’ve finished searching her flat, but she doesn’t feel ready to go back there yet, poor thing. We’re all in shock. And to think it happened here.’
She continued chattering, turning the conversation to her own daughter and how well she was doing in her studies, as they walked along the corridor to the living room where Ashley was watching television.
‘We’re watching The Chase,’ Gloria said as Geraldine sat down. ‘Now, can I get you anything?’
Geraldine shook her head. ‘That’s very kind of you, Gloria, but I’d like a private word with Ashley, if you don’t mind.’
&nb
sp; ‘No, no, that’s fine, don’t mind me,’ Gloria said, sitting down.
Geraldine turned to Ashley. ‘Can we go to your room? I would like to talk to you for a few moments on your own.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Gloria stood up, flustered. ‘I didn’t realise, I don’t want to be in the way. If you want me to go…’ she glanced uncertainly at Geraldine who nodded.
In a murder case, the demands of the investigation had to override any niceties, and it was important the details of the deaths be shared with as few people as possible. Once Gloria had left them, and the television was muted, Geraldine asked Ashley if there had been any instances of bullying when she had been at school.
‘You need to speak to Ned.’
‘I’m asking you. Ashley, if you know anything that might help us to trace this killer, you have to tell me. Refusing to share what you know, or even suspect, is not only against the law, it might lead to more deaths that could have been avoided. You do understand that, don’t you?’
Ashley shook her head. ‘Ask Ned. He’s the one who was bullied,’ she repeated, insisting that she didn’t know who had been responsible.
Ned was one of the potential victims who had received a threatening letter. Somehow, the more information the police gathered, the less sense the case made. Worried about what Ashley had told her, and why she had refused to say more, Geraldine set off for Ned’s farm.
47
After a mild start to the winter, bitter weather was forecast. Beneath a glowering grey sky, thick clouds looked low enough to reach up and touch, and it began to rain as Geraldine drove out of York. The rain turned to sleet that fell almost horizontally, blown across desolate fields by a cutting north wind. She glanced over her shoulder to check she had remembered to throw her fleecy jacket in the back of the car. Once she stepped outside, she would freeze without it. It looked as though she would soon have a chance to test the manufacturer’s claim that her new woolly hat was waterproof.
Ned was out at the caravan site when Geraldine arrived at the house. Turning the car round, she drove back down the lane. Had the weather been warmer she would have walked the short distance, but the ground was wet and icy and although her shoes were waterproof she would have needed decent hiking boots to walk comfortably along the lane in this weather. The gate to the caravan site was shut but not locked. It only took a minute to jump out of the car and drag it open. Even so, she was glad she had pulled on her jacket before leaving her heated car. Driving through the open gate of the caravan site, past a sign advising visitors of opening hours, she drew up outside the main building and gazed around. In the summer it would be a lovely place for families to stay, and she could easily picture the place bustling with children and noise and activity. Now it had echoes of a scene from a Hitchcock film, with wisps of dry grasses blowing across the bleak landscape.
The whole place looked deserted as she walked past the closed-up general store, but there were lights on in the office beside the shop, and the door wasn’t locked. A middle-aged man was sitting behind a desk, staring at a computer screen. He looked up at her with a puzzled smile.
‘Can I help you?’
Geraldine returned his smile. ‘Thank you. I’m looking for Ned Thomson.’
‘And you are…?’
She showed her identity card.
‘I’m Albert, Ned’s father. My wife told me you’re investigating the recent murders.’
As he stood up, Geraldine saw there was a strong family resemblance between him and his son, although the father was completely bald. Like Ned, the man behind the desk was tall and he had a long face and gentle eyes which gazed warily at Geraldine.
‘What do you want with Ned? You must know he’s not…’ he paused, searching for the right words. ‘He’s been very upset about the recent deaths. He knew all the victims, you know.’
Geraldine adopted what she hoped was a sympathetic expression. ‘I’m so sorry to trouble you like this, Mr Thomson, but I really do need to speak to your son and I think it would be much better if I could see him here, in familiar surroundings where he feels comfortable, without any fuss.’
Ned’s father nodded. ‘I understand,’ he answered heavily. ‘And there’s really no need to threaten me, or my son, with any kind of bother. Believe me, we’re keen to see the end of all this. But Ned’s easily upset and he’s already told you everything he can.’
Carefully Geraldine explained that while nothing new had come up, there was a question that Ned might be able to help them with. She regretted that she was unable to divulge any details, but she did need to speak to Ned. With a shrug, Mr Thomson phoned his son, and Ned arrived soon after receiving his father’s summons. Out of breath, his legs splashed with mud, he smiled anxiously at Geraldine as he pulled off his thick leather gloves.
‘My dad said you were here. Have you found out who did it?’
Without answering she went and stood beside him so that his father couldn’t hear what they were saying. Quietly, she asked Ned if he could remember any bullying at school. He shook his head.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Not really what you’d call bullying,’ he replied slowly. ‘Some of the other boys used to tease me a bit, because my hearing was bad, but they weren’t being mean. I mean, my voice was odd in those days and kids pick on anyone who’s different, don’t they? Why do you ask?’
He stared at Geraldine, his candid blue eyes wide open. She had a feeling he might be lying.
‘What is it?’ Mr Thomson asked.
Geraldine explained that the question was only for people directly involved in the investigation. She said she hoped she could rely on Ned’s discretion.
‘It’s very important that as few people as possible know about it,’ she added.
Ned nodded solemnly. His father looked faintly disgruntled, but there was nothing he could do about it.
‘Can you tell me about it?’ she asked.
Ned looked anxious. ‘No, I can’t,’ he said, his voice rising. ‘It was a long time ago and I don’t really see the point in talking about it now. It’s over and done with.’
Geraldine was sure there was more he could have said if his father hadn’t been present, but he lowered his eyes and remained silent.
‘I hate to press you,’ she persisted, ‘but it’s very important you tell me everything you can.’
Ned’s father stepped forward to stand at his son’s side. ‘Is there anything else you can tell the policewoman, son?’
Ned shook his head.
‘Are you sure?’ Geraldine asked.
‘There’s nothing else,’ Ned repeated.
Short of taking him with her to the police station for questioning, there was nothing more Geraldine could do to force him to talk.
‘If I find you’ve been hiding something from us, Ned, you could be in serious trouble. You do understand that, don’t you?’
He nodded solemnly, his eyes fixed on hers. Mr Thomson took his son by the arm.
‘It’s all right, Ned, the policewoman’s just leaving. You’re not in any trouble.’ He turned to Geraldine. ‘My son’s told you all he knows.’
As she walked back to her car, Geraldine glanced back at the two men who were standing motionless, side by side, watching her go.
The following morning when the team assembled to discuss how the investigation was progressing, Geraldine suggested the killings could be related to a history of bullying at the school.
‘According to Ashley, Ned was the victim of bullying. He dismissed it as insignificant, but Susan Mulvey suggested there was a sustained campaign of bullying,’ she explained. ‘She told me she couldn’t remember who the target was, but I suspect she knew who it was.’
‘In your report you said Ned denied it was serious,’ Eileen replied.
‘I know, but I had a feeling he might have known more than he was letting on,’
Geraldine said quietly.
It was difficult to be certain, and she could hardly force Ned to talk to her. It wasn’t as if he was a suspect.
‘If he’s withholding information that could help us, we ought to be putting pressure on him,’ Naomi said.
The trouble was, Geraldine wasn’t sure if he really did know more than he had admitted.
‘It was only an impression I had,’ she explained. ‘There’s no way of knowing what he knows, unless he decides to tell us. And his father was almost aggressive in his defence of his son. I guess he’s had to be. That’s why I didn’t make too much of it in my official report. I’m just telling you because we’re here talking about the case and throwing ideas around. If there’s a possibility Ned’s somehow involved in all this, then perhaps the others might know something, and one of them might be more inclined to talk to us. It’s just an idea, but I think it’s worth checking out.’
Ian agreed with Geraldine and so it was decided that she would ask the other three surviving classmates.
‘It’ll be interesting to hear what Leah has to say about this allegation of bullying,’ Eileen said sharply. ‘I daresay she’ll jump at the chance to throw suspicion on someone else.’
48
Over a week had passed since he had acquired a gun. It should have made his life easier, but the gun had actually created more problems than it solved. For a start, he had to be more cautious than before. If anyone caught so much as a glimpse of the gun, everything would be over. And meanwhile, there were three people still to dispose of. On reflection he decided it had probably been a mistake sending out threatening letters, but his intentions had been sound. The purpose of his campaign had always been to cause fear, and he had certainly accomplished that by now, if the media were anything to go by.
Class Murder Page 21