by M A Comley
Mr. Powell left the room and showed the next man in. Fred Elmleigh was a rotund little man who came across as nice enough, if a little quiet. Tony struggled to believe the man had even gone out on the stag night with the other men. Unless his quiet demeanour is hiding something?
“No need to be nervous, Fred. We’re just trying to figure out what went on that night. Have you heard from Alec since last Friday?”
“No, nothing at all. Not that we were that close, really. I think the guys only asked me to join them because they felt sorry for me. They didn’t want me to feel left out.”
“I see. So you don’t usually go out with the group then?”
“No. Never. I wish I hadn’t bothered this time, either. It’s shocking what’s gone on.”
“Did you see Alec get in a taxi at the end of the night, Fred?”
The man shook his head and avoided eye contact with Tony in reply.
Tony had a feeling they were unlikely to get anything useful out of the man and rushed his interview through to its conclusion. “Well, thanks for your help. Can you send the next person in on your way out?”
“Is that it?” Fred looked shocked at being dismissed so early.
Tony tilted his head. “Unless you can tell us anything more of interest, yes. We have quite a few other men to interview and only a couple of hours to do that in. Thanks, Fred.”
Disgruntled, the man stood and tucked his chair neatly under the desk before he left the room.
Joe leaned sideways and said in a low voice, “Funny reaction.”
“Let’s face it—he seemed a ‘funny’ kind of guy. Let’s not dwell on it. He came across as harmless enough.”
“If you say so,” Joe replied as the next interviewee joined them.
“Hi, I’m Seb. You wanted to have a word with me about Alec?”
“That’s right. Take a seat, Seb. Can you run through the events of last Friday for us? We’re trying to piece together Alec’s last-known whereabouts.”
“Sure.” Seb told the same story the other partygoers had already told Tony and Joe, adding nothing of any value.
Tony was beginning to think they were merely wasting time going over old ground constantly. That side of PI work didn’t really sit comfortably with him. He’d rather have been out there searching for the man the old-fashioned way than being forced to listen to the same words over and over again, like some kind of torture technique.
Another hour passed before they had interviewed all the men who attended Alec’s stag night. Frustrated, they left the factory none the wiser and made their way back to the car.
Tony placed his forearms on the roof of the car and let out a long sigh. “What a waste of time that was. Any suggestions what we do next?”
Joe unlocked the doors, and they both climbed into the vehicle. “Well, we do have that Marissa’s address now. Maybe we should consider paying her a visit? What do you say?”
Tony nodded. “With very few other options available to us, I say we should give it a shot.”
* * *
The address turned out to be a high-rise flat in a block on the outskirts of the city.
“Nice area,” Joe mumbled sarcastically.
Disappointed to see the lift out of action, they climbed the stairs to the twentieth floor, passing areas littered with defecation that the council obviously had no intention of cleaning up. The smell of urine clung to Tony’s nostrils during the ascent, and he suspected it had also wormed its way into the fine fibres of his suit and would prove near impossible to shift once they got home. At regular intervals, they passed by skinny dogs tied up on the concrete balconies. Tony cringed at the thought of Lorne ever seeing dogs treated like that. She would have let the owners know in no uncertain terms what she thought of them. He dipped his hand in his pocket and threw each of them a couple of chews, which he kept there for emergencies, just in case he needed to distract a guard dog. The dogs pounced on the meaty chews, devoured them, and raised their paws, begging for more.
Joe yanked on his forearm. “Come on, Tony. It’s not our responsibility, mate. You’re lucky a scrap didn’t break out.”
“All right. It’s not in me to see any creature go hungry.”
“Here we are.” Joe rapped his knuckles on the door of the flat’s filthy door then wiped his hand down the thigh of his trousers.
The door opened to reveal a woman in her late twenties with tousled blonde hair, smudged mascara, and remnants of fluorescent blue shadow around her eyes. She placed her hand over her eyes to block out the sun’s rays. “Yeah, what do ya want?”
“Marissa Gormon?” Tony asked.
“Who wants to know?”
“Do you mind if we come in for a few minutes?”
“Yes, I bloody mind. Who the fuck are you?”
“Sorry. I’m Tony Warner, and this is my partner, Joe. We’re private investigators.”
“Yeah, and? What are you investigating?” she asked, her lip curling up at the side.
Tony heaved a sigh. “If you’ll let us in, we’ll tell you.”
“No way, shitheads. No one comes in my flat uninvited. Say what you’ve got to say and then get out of my frigging face.”
“Okay, if that’s the way you want to play it. We’re investigating the disappearance of a former acquaintance of yours.”
She scratched her head with her scarlet-painted fingernail. “Acquaintance? Who?”
“Alec Edmonds, or should I have said your former boyfriend?” Tony asked.
“Call him what you like. He’s a total waste of space.” Her eyelids fluttered shut then flashed open again.
“Oh? That’s not the impression we got from his colleagues.”
“I couldn’t give a shit what they’ve told you. That bitch is welcome to him.”
“So, are you telling me that you haven’t contacted him in the last few weeks?”
Her feet shuffled, and she pulled her silky robe around her slightly bulging tummy. “I might have.”
“Can we ask why?”
“You can ask, but it don’t mean to say that I’m going to tell you. That’s my business.”
“Well, the fact is that our client, Alec’s fiancée, has employed us to look for him. So any recent involvement you’ve had with him automatically becomes our business.”
“That’s bullshit. Even if you were the boys in blue, I still wouldn’t talk to you about what went on between us. It’s our business. Got that?”
“I hear you, Ms. Gormon. There really isn’t any reason for you to shout at us like that. Have you seen him recently?”
“Nope.”
“You do know it’s an offence to withhold evidence in someone’s disappearance?” Tony bluffed.
The woman laughed in his face. “Bullshit. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get back to my beauty sleep.”
Tony stifled the grin that was keen to escape. You’d need several years of non-stop sleep to obtain that, dear lady.
“Thanks for your time. We’ll be passing our findings over to the police investigation team soon, so expect a visit from them in the near future.”
“That’s another dose of bullshit, man, and you damn well know it. Never bullshit a bullshitter. Hasn’t anyone told you that before?”
Tony was about to hit her with a sarcastic retort about meeting plenty of bullshitters over the years in his role as a MI6 operative, but she slammed the door in his face.
“Nice lady.” Joe chuckled.
“Yeah, I suppose she feels well at home living in a dump like this. Nice lady, nice area, nice life. Come on. Let’s go back to the scene and see what we can find. We’ve wasted enough time around here as it is.”
Chapter Nine
The team gathered around, then armed with cups of steaming coffee, they thrashed out the relative facts to the cases. Lorne s
tudied each of the team members, as one by one they revealed their conclusions. Nothing significant jumped out until AJ stepped forward and tapped the incident board with his pen.
“The only thing grabbing me is how much these cases are going to be dependent on the CCTV footage.”
“With nothing else showing up, I think you might be right, AJ,” Lorne agreed.
Sean folded his arms and rested his backside on a nearby desk. “Didn’t you say at the first scene, the number plate to the other vehicle had been masked in some way?”
Lorne nodded. “That’s right, but at least we know what kind of vehicle it is. Don’t we, AJ?”
“We do. What if I run the make, colour, et cetera through the system, plus the areas where all three bodies were found—they’re in pretty close proximity to each other, aren’t they? That in itself is a good indicator that the murderers live close by.”
“Great idea. Get on that right away, please. Anyone got anything else?”
Karen raised her hand. “If the men were working on the black, perhaps they dropped some kind of hint about the work they were undertaking to their workmates. It might be worth having a chat with them, boss.”
“Agreed,” Sean said, smiling at Karen.
“Stephen and Graham, I’d like you to arrange with each of the companies to quickly interview their staff, see if anything shows up there.”
Both men nodded, then Stephen suggested another good idea. “Shall I ask the bosses at each of the firms if they keep a record on mileage?”
Lorne tilted her head. “What are you getting at, Stephen?”
“Well, I’m not sure how relevant it will prove to be regarding the third victim, but the first two vics were found using their companies’ vehicles, weren’t they? Perhaps they had to log their mileage with the firms at the end of each working day. Armed with the information from those logs, maybe we’ll be able to work out how far the location where they were working on the sly is from their company’s headquarters and where their vehicles were dumped.”
“I’m with you. It’ll help in relation to AJ investigating the vehicle of the murderers, too.” Lorne’s heartbeat quickened with the prospect of stumbling across something that could lead to the murderers’ arrests. “What else do we have? There’s no proof of DNA that we know of yet at either of the scenes, and no sign of the weapon that was used to kill the vics, either. Any other suggestions?”
The team shook their heads in unison.
“The only other thing I can suggest is going to the media,” Karen offered.
“Hmm… I’m inclined to leave that for a little while, Karen. It might make us look stupid, especially as we have very little evidence to hand right now. Let’s revisit that once we’ve gone through what we’ve just discussed, okay?” Lorne said.
“Rightio.”
“Okay, people, let’s dig deep and see what shit we can find.”
By the end of the shift, AJ had uncovered three likely cars matching the description of the killers’ vehicle. Stephen and Graham returned to tell them that none of the victims’ colleagues could shed any light on where the men had been working on the black. That side of things was more exasperating to Lorne than she had anticipated.
Sean Roberts had returned to his own office during the afternoon and had only just reappeared for an update.
“So, if we have three addresses, do you want to check those out in the morning, Lorne?”
“Logically, I think we should do it tonight, just in case another tradesman’s life is in danger, not that there are that many left to kill off. Most of the trades—electrician, plumber, plasterer—have already been covered. But realistically, I think we would be better chasing them up in the morning.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let’s call it a day here. Good work, folks. Hopefully, things will start looking up for us tomorrow. Good night, all.”
Lorne left the station with AJ. “Great work today, AJ, considering the amount of stress you must be under.”
“Thanks. I’m eager to remain busy. It’s hard blocking Katy and her dad’s circumstances out, though. I’m going to ring her later. Thought I’d leave it until about nine. She should be home from the hospital by then. Just wish I could have travelled up there with her.”
“I know. It’s a tough call. Maybe you should start applying for jobs in other divisions now, in case something like this rears its head in the future, eh?”
“I’m not so sure. It’s going to be a major pull leaving this team. The thought of not working alongside Katy is a killer, but worse than that, not being involved in such a shit-hot team, I fear would be detrimental to my career. It’s a toss-up to know what to do for the best.”
“I know. Look, all I can say is that when I was out of the team, the one thing I missed the most was the camaraderie. You’re right—we are a great group of detectives. However, there’s one major thing against you—the higher-ups won’t put up with you and Katy being an item for long without moving at least one of you to either a different team or force.”
“I hear you. I’ll mull it over thoroughly this evening. Goodnight, Lorne.”
“Give my love to Katy when you talk to her. See you in the morning.”
Lorne watched AJ walk over to his sports car, a dejected figure with what looked like the world pressing down heavily on his shoulders. She didn’t envy one iota the decision process that lay ahead of him that evening.
The next morning, Lorne spent the first hour going through the pile of post that had miraculously appeared on Katy’s desk overnight. A knock on the door around ten came as a welcome relief. She glanced up to see an amused Sean leaning against the door frame.
“I’ve come to save you.”
Lorne pushed away the forms and sat back in her chair. “Have you finished your paperwork yet?”
“Nope. I’ll never finish my paperwork. I have left it at a convenient moment, though. We should set off soon.”
Lorne stood, slipped on her navy suit jacket, and followed him back out into the incident room. She collected the addresses they were due to visit from AJ. “Okay, we’re off. Just keep digging until we return, folks.”
“Maybe we should have asked an armed response team to accompany us today,” Sean said, he opened his car door then jumped in behind the steering wheel.
“We don’t want to seem to be going in there heavy-handed, Sean.”
“What kind of deterrent do you have to hand?”
“Pepper spray—that’s usually enough to combat any unjust behaviour. I’m up for a Taser session soon. I wonder who put me forward for that?”
Sean grinned. “I know how you’ve been banging on for years that Met coppers should be armed. Well, this is the next best thing. I thought you’d jump at the chance to have a high-voltage weapon in your hand.”
“You certainly have a way with words, Sean. Yes, I think it’s the way we should be going, although I’d still be careful whom I used the darn thing on. Even those things can be lethal if used in the wrong circumstances.”
“That’s why it’s important to use them more as a deterrent than an actual weapon. The officers in charge of the Tasers are told to shout and warn offenders before they aim their weapons and fire them. We’ve only had a few instances where the weapon has been used and the perpetrator has ended up in either the hospital or the mortuary.”
“I can still see the Met getting sued by those struck. Let’s face it, offenders don’t need much to start waving the human rights flag in the face of authority when it suits.”
“I have every confidence that you’ll use it responsibly, Lorne.”
“That, I can guarantee.”
They arrived at the first address within twenty minutes of leaving the station. Outside the small terraced house, Lorne pointed at the black Ford Mondeo. “Looks like the person we’ve called to see is in.”
Lorne eyed the car with concern. Even though the image of the vehicle had been super grainy, she still had a suspicion the car wasn’t the one they’d spotted on the CCTV cameras. She decided to keep this information to herself for the time being. Surveying the outside of the property, she had serious doubts that any form of renovation work had happened at the house in the past thirty years, let alone the last few weeks.
Armed with her warrant card, she knocked on the front door. They waited and waited for the door to open. In the end, Sean clenched his fist and banged heavily on the door five times.
“All right, all right. I’m comin’.” The door opened and a swaying man in his mid-twenties, wearing a food-stained T-shirt and striped boxer shorts, hung on to the door jamb for support.
Lorne got the impression he was either extremely hungover or very high on drugs. She flashed her ID in front of his dazed face. “Acting Detective Inspector Lorne Warner and DCI Sean Roberts. Mr. Tennant?”
“Yeah. What do you lot want?”
“One question—actually two, if you don’t mind. Does the Mondeo belong to you?” Lorne jerked her thumb at the car.
“Yeah, and?”
“Mind if we come in for a chat?”
“Yes, I do. What’s all this shit about?” he asked aggressively, trying to force himself to focus hard on what was going on if the strained expression on his face was anything to go by.
“It would be better to chat inside,” Lorne insisted. She took a step towards the man, but he refused to relinquish his hold on the door.
“No.”
Sean winked at Lorne. “I’ll have to ask you to accompany us to the station in that case, Mr. Tennant.”
The man’s head tilted first one way then the other. “What? What the fuck for? What have I done wrong?”
“Well, for a start, you’re obstructing a police enquiry into a murder case, and for another, it looks like you’re high on what I’m guessing to be an illegal substance. Am I right?”