Unsolved

by Michael Fowler

  Roger screwed up his face in bemusement. ‘An investigation with St. John-Stevens? I never worked on anything with him. He wasn’t at Barnwell for that long a time as I recollect.’

  ‘The Bannister case ring any bells?’ Hunter finished the last mouthful of his bacon sandwich and rested his empty plate on the arm of the sofa. ‘That was lovely, by the way,’ he added, wiping a crumb from the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.

  ‘The family who disappeared?’

  Hunter nodded sharply. ‘That’s them. I’ve spoken with David Bannister’s mum, Alice, who told me she was the one who reported them missing and you were the first person at the scene. I know from the file that was your only role in the matter, so I just want your first-hand experiences of that day, if you can remember.’

  Putting his own empty plate to one side, Roger replied, ‘Crikey, Hunter, you’re taking me back here. I can remember the job, but I can’t remember dates or anything.’

  ‘I can help you there, Roger. It was nineteen-ninety-one. It was in July that year. I came out of training school at the beginning of October, and you were my tutor. We dealt with the body of June Waring, who suffocated whilst being raped by Dylan Wolfe, that year. Remember?’

  Roger slowly dipped his head. ‘Got it. I’ve fixed it in my head now,’ he said. ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Just what you remember about going to the house. What you saw. What you did. That sort of thing. I’ll ask you questions from time to time.’

  ‘Okay.’ Roger lowered his eyes for a moment. ‘I remember our shift was on afters and we’d only just finished briefing when the call came in. It wasn’t a priority one, but I do remember it quite clearly because it was a whole family being reported as missing. When I got to the Bannister home, Alice was in a bit of a state. She said she’d called round, and found both doors unlocked and no one in, and that she’d rung her son’s works and been told he’d not gone in that morning. She said that his car wasn’t parked on the street where it normally was. She then told me she didn’t know if there’d been an accident or if they’d been burgled, because she’d found signs of a disturbance in the lounge.’

  ‘Can I just stop you there, Roger? You said that Alice told you that the doors were unlocked. Were they open?’

  ‘No. I asked that same question when Alice told me. She said she’d knocked on the front door first, and when there hadn’t been any answer, she’d tried the door handle and the door was unlocked, so she’d called out, expecting her daughter-in-law to be there with her granddaughter. When she’d got no answer, she’d let herself in, gone along the hallway into the kitchen, and found the back door unlocked, so she’d opened it and looked into the yard. When she’d seen they weren’t there, she’d gone upstairs, checked the two bedrooms and bathroom and found the house empty, and thinking that her daughter-in-law might have just nipped round to the neighbours or to the local shop, she’d gone into the lounge to wait for her, and that’s when she found the table overturned, the photo frame smashed and what she believed to be blood on the hearth. She had then rung the hospital to see if any of the family had been treated or admitted, but they hadn’t, and that’s when she had rung us.’

  ‘That’s very much the same as what Alice told me,’ Hunter responded. He picked out a crime scene photograph of the lounge and showed it to Roger. ‘Is this what you saw in the lounge?’

  Roger held the photo, cast his eyes over it for several seconds and handed it back to Hunter. ‘Yes. As you can see, a small side table’s been overturned and the hearth rug’s all crumpled. That photograph frame you see smashed on the floor had apparently been on the mantelpiece according to Alice, and as you can just make out, there are splashes of blood on the hearth. It wasn’t a lot, but it led me to believe that something had happened. A struggle or a fight of some sort. What you can’t see in that photo is a number of cigarette butts and cigarette ash on the carpet to the left-hand side of the hearth. Alice told me that David’s wife occasionally smoked and used an ash tray that was on the mantelpiece. That was gone. She described it to me as one of those green onyx ones that were popular at the time. I instantly got a bad feeling, what with the bloodstains on the fireplace, that it had been used as a weapon. Alice also showed me where the house phone had been ripped from its socket. That’s when I asked for CID attendance. Before they got there, I searched the entire house, thinking I might find bodies. I also looked outside in the yard and outhouse. It was whilst going through the kitchen I smelt the bleach and saw bits of staining on the floor. I later learned from SOCO that bleach had been used to clean up blood from the kitchen floor.’

  The information about the ash tray was new to Hunter. Nothing about that was in the covering report, or in any of the statements in the file. He asked, ‘And St. John-Stevens joined you?’

  ‘Yes, him and Keith Saker. Remember him?’ Roger answered, his mouth breaking into a cynical smile.

  Hunter certainly did remember Keith Saker. Grace had had a run-in with the bombastic, overweight detective when they had been probationers; she had thrown two mugs of tea over him one evening following his sexist behaviour towards her. It had resulted in her being the talk of the station and Keith Saker never living it down.

  Hunter broke into a smile himself. ‘That’s a blast from the past. I’ll never forget Grace putting him in his place that night he made those comments to her.’

  ‘And richly deserved as well. He was an arrogant twat. She did us a great favour that night. Many of us had wanted to do something like that to him over the years. He treated uniform as if they were incompetent and he was the best thing since sliced bread, and yet he was nothing but a lazy arse who lived on his past reputation because of a couple of good jobs he’d been involved in. Everybody applauded her actions that night, even the gaffers, but no one told her that because she was in her probation.’ Roger paused, giving Hunter a look of sad reflection. ‘I’m told he’s in a bad way now. He’s got dementia and is in a nursing home.’ Pausing again, he continued, ‘He was an arsehole all right, but he doesn’t deserve that.’

  Hunter agreed with a curt nod, and after a few seconds of silence he said, ‘So, just going back to when you were at the Bannisters’ home, before CID came, was there anything else you did, or anything you can remember about the scene?’

  ‘Besides what I’ve already told you about what I saw at the scene, there were other things that made me think something bad had happened to them, and that the family just hadn’t upped sticks and left. Firstly, the wife’s bag and purse were on the side in the kitchen. Alice pointed that out to me. There was also some money in a drawer. Thirty quid, if I remember. Not a lot, but something you wouldn’t leave. And I found David’s wallet in his bedside cabinet with a few quid in it and his bank card and a credit card. And remember, I said the back doors were unlocked. Well, the keys were in the door, on the inside. And, of course, there was a strong smell of bleach and bit of staining on the kitchen floor.’

  ‘I’ve seen mention of the bleach in the file, and I know SOCO did tests and said that a fair amount of blood had been cleaned up with bleach.’

  ‘The smell was really noticeable, but the strange thing was SOCO never found an empty bottle. Whoever cleaned it up took away the bottle.’

  Hunter mulled Roger’s response over for a couple of seconds and said, ‘I’ve been told the blood was more than likely Tina’s?’

  ‘The wife’s?’

  Hunter nodded.

  ‘The names have slipped my mind after all this time. I remember Alice, the mum, because I spent quite a bit of time talking with her, and I also remember David’s because Alice flipped when I asked her if she knew if he had been depressed or suicidal lately. She asked me what I was insinuating, and told me all about her daughter-in-law’s fancy men and what he’d had to put up with since they’d been married. I had to calm her down. In fact, I was glad when CID turned up and my role was over. And more so, I couldn’t wait to get out of there when I saw who it wa
s turning up. I didn’t have much time for either of them. St. John-Stevens was another arrogant prick. More degrees than a right angle but not an ounce of common sense, and he spoke to you like a piece of shit.’

  ‘Nothing’s changed,’ Hunter responded, thinking out loud. Following a short pause, he asked, ‘Anything else, Roger?’

  ‘There was one other thing. And it set me to thinking that there could have been a visitor there just before their disappearance.’

  The stranger Denise Harris had seen at the front door? ‘Oh yes, what was that, Roger?’

  Roger picked out one of the crime scene photos and turned it so Hunter could view it the right way up. It was a wide-angle shot of the Bannisters’ lounge, taking most of the room in. Roger jabbed a finger at the coffee table next to the sofa. On it was a single cup. ‘That cup was half full with coffee. It was cold and had a film on it. Next to it was a ring stain where another cup had been. And in the kitchen, I found a cup on the draining-board, which looked as though it had been washed. SOCO arrived just before I left, so I told them about it and they dusted it for prints, but there were none. They said it had been washed with bleach, just like the floor. It was clean as a whistle.’

  ‘Did St. John-Stevens and Keith Saker know all this?’

  Roger nodded. ‘Yes, they were there. I said to them that it looked like someone was covering up something bad that had happened there. And I asked them if they thought the family had maybe been killed or abducted or something like that, and that arrogant little shit St. John-Stevens said to me, “You should know it’s too early to come to conclusions like that, officer. There are a lot of enquiries still to be made by us detectives. Then we’ll make that decision.” I could have knocked his fucking head off his shoulders; he was only a bloody CID aide with five years in.’

  Hunter let out a sharp laugh. ‘Like I say about him, Roger — nothing’s changed. Except he’s up a few ranks now.’ Hunter studied the photo of the cup on the coffee table. Although he’d viewed the photographs several times, he hadn’t studied the cup on the table with any scrutiny before. Lifting his eyes, he said, ‘Anything else, Roger?’

  ‘Not that I remember in the house. There was the fact that David’s car had gone. He usually parked it just outside the house, but it wasn’t there and we never found the keys for it. The day after the family were all circulated as missing, a car the same make as David’s was found burned out in an old limestone quarry, near Sprotbrough, but we were later told it wasn’t his, and as you know the final theory was that David had killed his wife and child during a row and then committed suicide by driving into a river or something.’

  ‘That’s what it suggests in the file,’ Hunter answered in a low voice.

  Roger studied Hunter a moment. ‘The way you say that is the same way I felt when I was at the house. I was convinced something bad had happened in that house and that whoever had done it had started covering up their crime and then been disturbed. I thought maybe it had been Alice who disturbed them when she turned up, especially with the doors being unlocked and the keys still in the back door. Maybe they nipped over the back wall into the alleyway. I did some looking around and most of the shift were turned out to do a local search of outbuildings and the nearby industrial estate, but we didn’t find anything. I did have a quiet word with Keith Saker a couple of days later, and he said that they still had a lot of enquiries to do and had a number of theories and they were looking into all of them. I was surprised when I heard that it was believed David had killed his wife and daughter and then topped himself.’

  ‘Having not been involved in the original investigation, I can’t say how they came to the decision that made them close the enquiry so early, but what I can say is that while I’ve been reviewing it, there have been so many things I’ve found out that I feel should have been mentioned in the final report. I can’t think why they have been left out or not followed up.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Well, for starters, a lot of what you’ve just told me isn’t in the report.’ Hunter then told him of the information that George Evers had given them and also Denise Harris’s sighting of two strangers the day before they were reported missing.

  Roger scrunched his eyes. ‘It does make you wonder why none of that was mentioned, doesn’t it? Are you thinking it’s some kind of cover up?’

  ‘I can’t see what they would want to cover up or why. Like I said earlier, I’m thinking at the moment that it’s just a botched job. St. John-Stevens wasn’t experienced enough at the time to conduct an investigation of that type, and Keith Saker was just an idle good-for-nothing who would sooner be propping up the police bar than doing his job. I’ll tell you what I did initially think. That the stranger Denise Harris saw at the front door and then later getting into the car in the alleyway next to the Bannisters’ could have been Dylan Wolfe, because his first victim only lived a few streets away as you recall. But when I showed George Evers the mugshot of him from nineteen-ninety-one, he didn’t recognise him.’

  ‘And you’ve no idea who those two men are?’

  ‘No. Never been identified as far as I’m aware. And as far as the report goes, it doesn’t look as though St. John-Stevens has done anything to find out who they were. Under normal circumstances I would just ask him straight out, but as he’s told me to drop the case, I’ve got to do some digging around without him finding out, before I decide what to do with the review.’

  ‘Well, good luck, Hunter. Sorry I couldn’t help you.’

  ‘You’ve been a great help, Roger. And it’s also been good catching up with you and seeing you look so well. I’m envious. I’m just hoping me and Beth will be as comfortable and have the time you have when I retire.’

  Roger pushed himself up from his chair. ‘Don’t wish your life away, Hunter.’ He picked Hunter’s plate up from the arm of the sofa and slotted it on top of his own. ‘And let me know how you get on if you find out anything. I would be interested to know what happened to the family. It has been one of those jobs that’s niggled away at me over the years.’

  Hunter got back to the office just after 10 a.m. Maddie looked up from her computer as he strolled in and greeted him with, ‘The boss has been in here asking after you. He’s called in twice in the last ten minutes to see if you’re in yet. I told him a little white lie: that you’d been in but had to pop out to get some milk.’

  Hunter sighed heavily. ‘Thanks, Maddie. I came in early to do an address check for Roger Mills, my old tutor, who took the missing report about the Bannisters, and then as I was leaving to go and see him, he was just coming into the car park.’

  She raised her chin, forming a silent ‘O’ with her mouth.

  ‘How did he sound?’

  ‘Not impressed. Told me that you had to ring him as soon as you came in. Oh, and he’s taken the Bannister file.’ Maddie pointed at Hunter’s out tray, which was now empty.

  ‘Bollocks.’ He took off his coat and shoved his briefcase under his desk. ‘I’ll get us a cuppa first before I ring him. It’ll give me time to come up with a good excuse as to where I was going when he clocked me.’

  Maddie shook her head, issuing a tight smile. ‘Anyway, was it worth it, going to see your old tutor?’

  Hunter shrugged his shoulders. ‘Yes and no. He was able to set the scene for me, but what he told me doesn’t really take me any further forward, only gives me more to think about.’ He gave her a potted version of his and Roger’s conversation while he made them both tea. As he handed Maddie her drink, he said, ‘I don’t know where that takes us, to be honest. I’ve got lots of unanswered questions, but the only person who can answer them is St. John-Stevens, and as you know he’s told me I’ve got to drop the investigation, so he’s not going to be any help.’

  ‘I’ve thought of a couple more avenues,’ Maddie responded.

  Hunter set down his drink. ‘Oh, what are those?’

  ‘See if we can find out who Tina’s close friends were at the time and speak w
ith them to see if she revealed anything. And there’s nothing in the file to suggest anyone spoke with her parents. We could see if they’re still around and have a chat. I could speak with Alice for that information. Also, her GP. We’ve got a copy of her record to show she was six weeks pregnant and that she had asked for an abortion because it wasn’t David’s, but that’s only a summary of her visit and discussion. What if she disclosed to her doctor who the father was and he chose, for confidentiality purposes, not to enter it onto her record?’

  Hunter clapped his hands. ‘Maddie, that’s brilliant. Yes, give Alice a ring, but first get onto the practice immediately and see if her doctor’s still working there.’

  She gave him a broad smile. ‘Done that already. Spoke to the practice manager and she told me that the surgery that Tina visited is now part of a four-surgery practice. It was bought up ten years ago when the leading doctor retired. But Tina’s doctor, Dr Bhatia, is still around. I told the practice manager a little bit about our investigation and asked if she still had Dr Bhatia’s details as we’d like to speak with him, and she’s going to contact him and ask him to ring me.’

  ‘You beaut. Well done.’

  ‘I thought that would cheer you up.’

  Hunter had just sat down and taken a sip of his tea when his phone rang. He squeezed his eyes shut and growled, ‘I bet this is St. John-Stevens.’ Opening his eyes, he snatched up the handset. ‘DS Kerr, Cold Case Unit,’ he said with an exaggerated note to his voice. It was the receptionist downstairs. She told him a small parcel had just been delivered and asked if he could come down and collect it.

  The parcel Hunter retrieved was an A4 padded envelope with his name and Barnwell MIT on a typewritten label. As he made his way back in the lift, he gently squeezed the envelope, trying to feel through the padding. He could make out that it contained something solid, about a foot long, and with several nodules, and he attempted to open it but it was sealed at both ends with Sellotape.