The house they arrived at, a little over a mile before Bridgnorth, was found off a twisting single track that was lined with thick hawthorn bushes, farmers’ fields beyond. A cluster of three large detached houses sat in a small valley where a ford flowed across the road. The rural setting was a far cry from the metropolis that Dani was more used to policing. The houses, mock-Tudor with white rendered walls interspersed with black-painted timber, were each a different size and shape, and each bore their own name, rather than number. Dani found the one they were looking for, Eastmeade, even before she’d spotted the neat little sign – the blue and white police tape rolled across the front gates clearly marked the scene.
Dani parked up outside the wooden gates and she and Easton headed in on foot, up a short incline to the house, where two marked police cars from West Mercia Police, a van belonging to their forensics team, and another unmarked car were parked.
A uniformed officer was standing by the closed front door. Dani introduced herself and Easton, and they were soon greeted by DI Leyland, a short and dishevelled man in his mid-thirties.
‘I wasn’t expecting you so soon,’ he said as he took off his latex glove to shake Dani’s hand. ‘You’ll need to cover your feet, if you don’t mind. Although forensics are just about done.’
Dani and Easton both put on shoe covers and gloves before Leyland showed them inside.
‘The victim’s name is Mary Deville,’ Leyland started as they stood in the dark hallway. ‘She was a Crown Court judge, worked in Birmingham for the last couple of decades until she retired a couple of months ago.’
Her work location was apparently one of various factors which had tipped West Mercia to the possible link to the Redfearne case.
‘She’d been out to a local pub in Bridgnorth with some female friends until closing time last night. Husband was asleep before she arrived home.’
‘How is he?’ Dani asked.
‘In serious shock, to say the least. He’s in hospital under guard.’
‘Under guard?’
‘We don’t think he did this, but the guard is there just in case. Both to stop him leaving, and to stop our killer coming back to finish him off.’
‘You think the killer wanted him dead too?’ Easton asked.
‘Hard to say, but he’s got a pretty nasty head wound. It could quite easily have killed him. Was that the intent? I’m not sure, but we won’t rule it out.’
Dani noticed Leyland’s gaze flick up to the scar above her ear. Her own reminder of an attack similar to what Mr Deville had endured last night. Her attacker, her own brother, had thought her dead. Perhaps Mary Deville’s killer had made the same mistake, or perhaps her husband simply wasn’t the target.
Leyland’s words, though, and that glance to Dani’s scar did make her curious as to how much he knew of her own brush with death. Within the West Midlands she often felt notorious, as though everyone knew of her dark past, including her mental and physical struggles to get herself back on the force, but did the notoriety stretch as far as here?
‘So you haven’t completely ruled him out?’ Dani asked, trying to push thoughts of her brother and her troubles away.
‘As the suspect in his wife’s murder?’ Leyland said. ‘I wouldn’t say we’ve ruled him out conclusively, not until we’ve taken a formal statement and have forensics results back. But what he says fits. He was asleep. He was bludgeoned, which explains his wound and the fact he wasn’t woken during the attack on her.’
‘Have you got a sense of the sequence of events?’
‘My theory is that the killer lay in wait until Mary arrived home, then attacked her when she reached the bedroom. You’ll see for yourself when we go upstairs, but if the blood on the bed is his and only his, and the blood around elsewhere in the room is hers and only hers, it seems to make sense. Likewise, we believe the blood on the stairs is his.’ Leyland pointed off to the stairs on his right where there were several spots of dark red on the floral wallpaper, on the worn carpet below too. ‘Mr Deville was found wandering around downstairs like a zombie when the uniforms arrived, so we think those splatters came from him.’
The forensic results would help to validate the theory, though Dani would keep an open mind. What if Mary had hit him first, as he lay in bed, and then he retaliated and killed her?
‘Any sign of forced entry?’ Easton asked.
‘Not forced, as such. Come this way.’
Leyland walked off to the end of the hallway, where there was a glorious country-style kitchen. Not particularly big, but certainly put together with love and care and attention and a decent amount of money. A single wide window provided views of the luscious garden beyond.
‘The back door was unlocked,’ Leyland said, moving over to it. He pulled the handle down and opened it. ‘The husband swears he would have locked it before going to bed. There are plenty of scuffs and scratches to the outside of the lock, which could just be from years of use, but we’re thinking the killer possibly picked his way in through here. We’ve dusted the floors for footprints, the doors and frames for fingerprints, but as you know it’ll take a while to decipher everything. We’ll have forensics take a closer look at the marks on the lock too, inside and out.’
Dani felt a faint shiver as she stared at the lock. The killer could pick his way in. But was last night his first visit or had he been before?
‘No house alarm?’ Easton asked.
Leyland looked at him as though it was a strange question. ‘I guess people around here don’t think they need much security. This is proper old school English countryside. You can see yourself, the locks on the doors and windows are basic at best. Any old idiot could crash through this one in seconds if they weren’t bothered about making noise. It’s generally only when people have fallen foul that they realise it’s time to upgrade. That’s just the way it is around here.’
To be honest, although the degrees were different, it was like that virtually anywhere, Dani pondered. The people with the best security tended to be those who’d been burned in the past.
‘Shall we go upstairs?’ Dani suggested.
Leyland led the way up to the first floor, where the blood specks on the landing carpet and wall quickly turned to huge pools of red and maroon past the threshold of the master bedroom. There were wide streaks of blood on the walls too. Some of the patches on the carpet were turning black around the edges where the blood was coagulating and drying. Dani could do nothing but gulp at the sight of so much red, which reminded her of the excessive gore of a Hollywood B-movie from the 1980s.
‘The body was found just over by the en suite door,’ Leyland said, ‘but I’m thinking most likely she was attacked as she came in through the door, then either struggled that way or was dragged.’ He pointed away at the blood spots in the various locations as he spoke. ‘The husband claims to have woken up sometime after one a.m. with a gash on his head and covered in blood.’
‘Who made the connection to the Redfearne case?’ Dani asked.
‘I did. Without wanting to sound like some backwater operation, we don’t get many deaths like this out here. Yes, we get a few domestics, but they’re normally more… straightforward. This is the first time I’ve ever seen anything so vicious.’
Though strangely he didn’t seem too moved by that. Perhaps he was still running on adrenaline and the horrors would come back to him at some later point.
‘I know of the Devilles. She was quite prominent in the town, getting involved in charities and such. And I know she has links to some powerful people. Councillors, politicians, that sort of thing. But I also remember her doing a fundraiser with the Redfearnes. I was already working the scene here when I heard about your press con, and after reading the case notes on HOLMES about Oscar Redfearne’s death… well, there’s the link. Not just the manner of her death, but the fact I know she knows that family. I have to say it all sounds horribly similar. Obviously, Mary Deville’s body has been moved now, but I can show you the crime scene
photos if it’ll help you to see what I mean.’
Dani really didn’t want to see them, but she knew she’d have to at some point. ‘Thanks. We’ll definitely do that,’ she said.
‘There weren’t any bite marks found on her body, were there?’ Easton asked.
Leyland looked at him quizzically.
‘No,’ Leyland said, frowning. ‘Not that were brought to my attention anyway, but I can put a note for the pathologist to check at the PM.’
‘That would be helpful,’ Dani said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Shall I leave you two to take a look around, gather your thoughts?’ Leyland said.
‘Please,’ Dani said.
Leyland nodded and was soon heading away.
* * *
Dani and Easton spent another half hour at the Devilles’ home, talking to the police, the FSIs who were still on site, and mooching. Dani’s head was swimming. On the one hand, the link to the Redfearne case seemed so tenuous. Killed in a similar manner? A huge proportion of murder cases she’d worked on were a frenzied attack, one way or another, and there was nothing in particular about the crime scenes which screamed to her this was the same murderer. For starters, what was with the bite marks on Oscar, but not here? At the Redfearnes, Sophie Blackwood, the witness, had been taken, but here Mr Deville, the witness, had been bludgeoned but then left.
Yet the personal link between the Devilles and the Redfearnes? That tied the two cases together firmly in Dani’s mind, and with it the similarities between the two crime scenes had to be properly considered.
They were walking down the drive towards Dani’s car in silence when her phone pinged with an incoming call. She didn’t recognise the number.
‘DI Stephens, it’s Saad Tariq.’ She hoped she knew what this was about. ‘We’ve had some preliminary DNA results.’
‘From which sample?’
‘The bite mark on Oscar Redfearne. We’ve hit a match in the DNA database.’
‘Go on.’
They reached Dani’s car and both of them remained standing on the outside, Easton looking at her expectantly.
‘Damian Curtis,’ Tariq said. ‘I’m just about to hit send on an email to you with the details… should be with you now.’
Dani took the phone away from her ear and opened up her inbox app and the email sprang onto the top of the page from the ether. She pulled the phone back up again.
‘I’ll let you know as soon as we have anything more,’ Tariq said.
‘Thank you.’
Dani ended the call and clicked Tariq’s email open.
‘We got something?’ Easton said as he came to hover over her shoulder.
‘A DNA match on the saliva taken from the bite on Oscar’s shoulder.’
‘Seriously? Bullseye. Name?’
‘Damian Curtis.’
Dani glanced at Easton. She understood the look on his face easy enough. He knew the name too. Of course he did.
‘Shit,’ was all Easton could say.
Which was pretty much what Dani had thought herself.
She finished typing into her phone and held it up to her ear.
‘DI Stephens, West Midlands Police,’ she said when the call was answered. ‘I need to speak to Deputy Governor Cartwright. Now.’
Chapter Seventeen
Once again the big dogs at West Midlands Police had pulled through with their rubber-stamping of Dani’s plans, and with the time approaching six p.m., less than three hours after Dani and Easton had left Eastmeade, they were sitting in her car outside a row of terraces in Perry Barr, not far from central Birmingham. Small commercial units – predominantly takeaways of various forms – took up the ground floor of each of the terraces, though it was 181b, a flat above a downtrodden-looking convenience store, that Dani had her eyes on.
With the engine and the air conditioning off, so as to not draw attention, and the early evening sun beating down on them, the inside of the car was sweltering and sweat was forming big globules all across Dani’s face, not to mention running down her back.
‘No sign that anyone’s home,’ Easton said as he wiped his brow with his arm and craned his neck to look out of the windscreen and across to the windows of 181b, about twenty yards from where they were parked.
‘We’ll find out soon enough,’ Dani said.
She checked her watch. Two minutes to go. Up ahead, around the corner of an adjacent street, she saw a white van pull up. No police insignia or lights or sirens, but Dani knew who was inside. She flicked her gaze into the rear-view mirror. Three cars back from hers was a smaller van. A hundred yards further away up the street was the only marked police car in sight, though it was parked up and drawing no attention.
Dani looked at her watch again. Each second took an age.
Finally the minute hand ticked over to twelve.
Bang on time Dani heard the metal doors of the vans clunking open. There was a rush of heavy footsteps up ahead. Dani watched the gang of six hefty policeman – each with thick stab vests on, bulking out their high-vis jackets, riot helmets with their visors down – come jogging around the corner in front. Behind her, by the smaller van, two more officers were now out on foot, each holding back a hulking Alsatian, the beasts tugging on their leads enthusiastically. The one or two pedestrians inside the shops in front of Dani and on the street were caught in two minds all of a sudden. Stand and watch goggle-eyed, or make themselves scarce. Most chose the former, perhaps already aware they weren’t the targets.
The troop of officers arrived at the door, shouting.
‘This is the police!’
‘Stand back from the door!’
One of the officers stepped forward, holding the thirty-five-pound enforcer – a one man battering ram, affectionately known as the Big Red Key.
Dani had her hand to her car door as the officer swung the enforcer forwards with venom. The paint-peeling front door to flat 181b burst open at the first thrust, splintering around the lock. Barely a second later three of the officers had disappeared up the stairs. By the time Dani was outside with the car door shut, they were all inside. The marked police car that had been behind her moments before now had its siren blaring, its lights flashing and it screeched to a halt in the road right by Dani, blocking oncoming traffic. Another did the same from the other side.
There was shouting and banging from inside the building. Dani knew there was also a team at the back of the terraces where there was a crude metal fire escape, just in case anyone inside decided to make a run for it. The dogs, right next to her now, would give chase if so.
A few moments later all the shouting and banging inside had stopped. Dani held her breath in anticipation as she listened to the sounds of the boots descending the stairs, full of hope that she would see the officers dragging Damian Curtis out of the front door with them.
But one by one the officers came out empty-handed. Dani deflated a little more with each one.
One of the officers idled over to Dani, himself looking seriously fed up.
‘Empty,’ was all he said.
‘Empty abandoned, or just no one home?’ Dani asked.
‘Looks like someone’s been there recent enough. Go and take a look. It’s all yours.’
Dani sighed as she tried to push away her frustration.
‘OK. You’re good to go,’ she said to him. She turned to the dog handlers. ‘And you.’ Then to Easton. ‘Get the officers in the cars to stay. They can roll some tape out and keep the scene.’
Easton nodded. Though it was hardly a scene. Dani made a quick call to confirm the forensics team were good to come and do their thing. A couple of minutes later she and Easton, shoe covers and gloves on, were heading up the creaky and bare stairs.
‘Well they were a miserable lot,’ Easton said.
‘I think they wanted some action,’ Dani said. So had she, to be honest.
‘You’re disappointed,’ Easton said, picking up on Dani’s flat mood.
‘Of course I am.’
‘You ever fancied being in the thick of it?’ Easton asked Dani as he came to her side.
‘A raid? Have you?’ she said, eyebrow raised.
‘Did it once, when I was a bobby. Not my cup of tea.’
‘What happened?’
Easton caught her eye. He looked like he was about to wave the question away. Embarrassment?
‘Let me guess—’
‘I fell over.’
Dani smirked. She’d been about to suggest something similar.
‘I was the guy with the enforcer,’ Easton said. ‘I insisted. You know you have to take training to use those things? I thought I was the dog’s bollocks. But it took me three goes, and then when the door finally opened I lost my balance and fell face first. I was dazed and blocking the door. The rest of the team were scrambling over me. The guy we were after legged it out the back door in the melee.’
Dani was still smiling at Easton’s misfortune. On the first case they’d worked together he’d had a similar haphazard moment. Although it hadn’t had a happy ending. A young man had lost his life later that afternoon in a foot-chase with Dani and Easton.
She wiped her smile away.
‘What happened to the perp?’ she asked.
‘Oh, the dogs got him within a minute or so, so it wasn’t all bad. But I was never trusted with that blasted enforcer again. Plus, I had to live with the nickname Twinkletoes for a good while after that.’
Dani found herself smiling again.
‘Yeah, yeah, lap it up,’ Easton said.
‘You’ve got to admit, you are a bit of a klutz. And I think the name suits you actually. We might have to bring that back.’
‘I’m a detective for my brain, not my poise and balance.’
The Rules of Murder Page 12