Evil Impulse

by Leigh Russell

  ‘I’m sure you’ll attract plenty of ghoulish customers once the investigation is over,’ she suggested with a disapproving scowl.

  ‘And do you know when that is likely to be?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t say for certain, but we should be finished searching your premises and the alley outside before too long, hopefully within a couple of weeks, maybe less.’

  ‘Very well.’ He frowned. ‘You said you’ll be searching the premises? Is that really necessary?’

  ‘We’ll be looking for anything that might help our enquiry, nothing else.’

  He nodded and licked his lips nervously. ‘Some of our guests like to pep themselves up when they’re dancing.’

  ‘We are not the drug squad, Mr Collins,’ she replied, ‘although I can give no undertaking that they will not be interested in seeing the results of any forensic examination of your premises we consider necessary in the course of our investigation.’

  ‘If you find any trace of illegal substance abuse anywhere on the premises, I assure you the management and staff here know nothing about it. We can’t be held responsible for what goes on in the toilets, or outside in the alley, and we routinely search customers’ bags and pockets when they enter the club. We check for weapons and illegal substances, but you know as well as I do that drugs are easy to conceal, and there’s a limit to what we can do to stop people bringing them in. We have bouncers on the doors whenever we’re open, and security guards patrolling inside, but we can’t observe everything that goes on in the toilet cubicles. Customers are entitled to some privacy. We do what we can. The last thing we want is any trouble with the law.’

  ‘Thank you for agreeing to co-operate with the search of your premises which, as you must be aware, is already under way. Now we’ve cleared that up, I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened last night, and then I and my colleagues will need to finish speaking to your staff. I assure you we would be happy if there was any way we could complete this process quickly, but talking to people takes time and we have to be thorough.’

  The manager nodded wretchedly. ‘Of course you must do what you have to do. What is it you want to know?’

  22

  When she had finished questioning the manager about the events of the early hours of the morning, Geraldine proceeded to the next member of staff on her list. The second bouncer was broad-shouldered, short and stocky. His lank hair hung low over his forehead, and he had a long nose and a very square chin. He had a habit of twitching his head sideways, to flick his hair out of the small grey eyes that peered at her from beneath his heavy brows. He seemed far more composed than his fellow bouncer, and answered Geraldine’s questions concisely. She suspected he had rehearsed what he needed to say before the interview. When he had finished describing what had happened, she quizzed him on his version of the events leading up to the discovery of the body in the alley.

  ‘What made you suspect foul play?’ she asked.

  The bouncer raised his shaggy eyebrows, seemingly surprised by the question. ‘The guy had blood on his shoes,’ he repeated. ‘It must have come from somewhere, and since he didn’t appear to be injured, I figured someone else must be hurt. But I never suspected it was anything other than a violent brawl.’

  ‘If you thought someone was injured, why didn’t you go outside to investigate straightaway?’

  He nodded, as though this was a question he understood. ‘I thought the man who’d come back in with bloody shoes had probably been involved in an altercation. I didn’t want him to skedaddle, so I hung on to him. That’s why I sent my colleague to have a look around outside, while I took the suspect off to the office.’

  ‘If this man was guilty of stabbing someone, as you suspected, do you really think he would have come back into the club?’

  The bouncer shook his head. ‘I had no idea he’d killed anyone, and I don’t suppose he realised what he’d done either. He came back in, so I assumed he’d cut another guy in a scrap, and didn’t know how badly he’d injured him. He must have thought there was no real harm done. Otherwise, like you said, he’d have done a runner. I assumed he’d shivved someone in a scrap, and thought it was nothing too serious. If I’d thought about it at all, I probably would have suspected he’d come back in for a girl. That’s often what these fights are about. But I was concerned enough to hold on to him and contact you,’ he added quickly.

  ‘There was a lot of blood,’ Geraldine pointed out, watching the bouncer’s reaction closely.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I was worried the other guy might be in need of medical assistance, and that’s why I sent someone out there to take a gander immediately. Of course, it was too late. He wasn’t in need of any medical assistance by then, but I wasn’t to know that, was I? In any case, my main concern was to protect the club. That’s what I’m paid to do. We’re not responsible for making sure people are safe on the streets. That’s your job, isn’t it?’

  Geraldine did not answer, but continued with a question of her own.

  ‘What can you tell me about the man who came into the club with bloody shoes? My colleague has been speaking to him, but I’d like to make sure your account confirms what he’s told us.’

  The bouncer nodded and repeated what he had already said about the customer leaving, allegedly to have a cigarette, and returning with blood on his shoes.

  ‘Did you believe him?’ Geraldine asked when he had finished.

  The bouncer shrugged. ‘He looked like he was about to throw up when he went out, so I think he was telling the truth about that.’ He paused, frowning. ‘If you’re asking for my opinion, he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would assault anyone. He struck me as the type who comes to the club hoping to pull, because he’s too nervous and twitchy to get his hands on a girl anywhere else. He certainly didn’t have a blade on him when he arrived. We search everyone who comes in. So if you ask me to think about it, I’d say that if he did stab someone in the alley, he’d have had to have hidden a knife somewhere outside and, honestly, I don’t think he was the type. He was more likely to be the victim of an attack than the aggressor. But of course you can never be sure. When he came back in, he insisted he’d just gone outside for a cigarette and he claimed to know nothing about any blood on his shoes until we showed it to him.’

  ‘Did he smell of cigarette smoke when he returned?’

  He shook his head. ‘I didn’t notice. Honestly, I wouldn’t bet on whether he was the type to stab someone or not because, like I said, you can never tell, can you? But I don’t remember getting the impression he had been in any sort of a fight before he came back in. You can tell when a guy’s been roughing someone up because he’s juiced, but this guy looked just the same as when he went out.’

  ‘And how did he look?’

  ‘Twitchy and pathetic, and like he might throw up. The only difference was that he had blood all over the bottom of his shoes when he came back in, and he didn’t even seem to be aware of it until we pointed it out. I’m not sure there wasn’t something wrong with him. At any rate, I don’t think he was the sharpest tool in the box.’

  Geraldine thanked the bouncer for his help and returned to the police station to write up her notes. Her most pressing concern was the identity of the body. There was no reason to suppose the victim was Zoe, the thirteen-year-old who had gone missing from her home five days earlier, but it was possible.

  ‘It doesn’t really make any difference who she was,’ Ariadne pointed out. ‘If she’s not Zoe, then she’s some other girl. Whoever she is, she was horribly murdered.’

  Geraldine nodded. Ariadne was right. It made no difference if the victim had been thirteen or ninety, she had still been a living breathing human being whose life had been violently taken away. But somehow the death of a young girl seemed worse than that of an older woman.

  ‘I know it’s not logical,’ she told Ariadne, ‘but it just feels
worse. I don’t know why.’

  ‘Because she hasn’t yet had a chance to live yet, I suppose,’ Ariadne replied.

  ‘And she isn’t old enough to know how to keep herself safe.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Rationally it doesn’t make any difference, yet it seems far worse.’

  Reading through Ian’s report of his interview with Jamie, Geraldine was inclined to agree with the bouncer’s impression of him. Jamie had no record for assault, and had never been questioned by the police for anything at all prior to this. There was nothing in his history or present circumstances to suggest that he might be easily provoked to violence. Not only that, but his cigarette butt had been identified near the body. It had been smoked down to the filter, and he had not left the club for longer than about five minutes, a time frame that had been confirmed by the club’s CCTV. It seemed virtually impossible that he could have smoked a cigarette and battered a girl to death within so brief a period of time.

  ‘Even if he had smoked while hitting her, he wouldn’t have had time,’ Ariadne agreed with Geraldine’s conclusion.

  ‘And the idea of his beating someone so violently, all done with a cigarette stuck between his lips, somehow doesn’t seem likely,’ Geraldine added.

  Ian’s impression of Jamie had coincided with the bouncer’s view. Taking all of that into account, along with the fact that no blood at all had been discovered on his clothing, he seemed an unlikely suspect. Geraldine would not have been surprised to learn that the victim was already dead by the time Jamie had walked out of the club for a cigarette. The evidence against him was circumstantial but, all the same, he remained on the list of suspects. Until they had established the identity of the dead woman, they could not rule out her connection with anyone who had been at the club that evening.

  ‘She might turn out to have spurned Jamie earlier on that same evening,’ Ariadne suggested.

  It was idle speculation in a case where so far just about anything was possible.

  23

  It was late by the time Geraldine was finally able to leave York. Only by borrowing time from her few hours of sleep could she fit in driving all the way to London at such an early stage in an investigation. As it was, she was not going to reach Helena’s flat before midnight. On her way she tried to call Ian several times to let him know where she was, but he did not answer. She had no luck calling Helena. Staring at the road ahead, she put her foot down, hoping she would find her sister at home. As she drove, she did her best to remain positive. Her only concern should be to focus on the case, and missing a night’s sleep to visit her sister wouldn’t help, but she had no choice. The following day she determined to talk to Ian so that together they could work out a plan to trap her abductors, while continuing to protect Helena. She had no idea when the criminal gang would contact her about helping them, but she suspected it would be soon.

  She understood why her sister had to be spirited away, but she wanted to speak to her in person first to explain what had happened, and convince Helena that she was not abandoning her. At last she reached the street where Helena lived in East London, found a parking place, and rang the bell. There was no answer. Helena was probably asleep. She rang again. Still no one came to the door. If Helena was out, and Geraldine had driven all this way for nothing, it would be galling. But far worse was the prospect that Geraldine might not see Helena before she was relocated. She tried Helena’s phone but it went straight to a generic voicemail. As she rang off, her phone rang. She answered it at once, and was disappointed to hear Ian’s voice.

  ‘Geraldine, where are you? Do you know what time it is? Come home for goodness sake, and get some sleep.’

  ‘I’m not in York,’ she replied.

  ‘What?’

  He sounded startled, although he must have realised where she had gone. Geraldine told him she had driven to London to speak to Helena, who was not at home.

  ‘Where is she, Ian? Where have they taken her?’

  There was a slight pause before he answered. When he spoke, she had the impression he was irritated with her, but she didn’t care.

  ‘I told you I would give you a week, so you have time to speak to her before she is relocated.’

  ‘Then where is she?’

  Down the phone line she heard Ian sigh. ‘I have no idea. She must have gone out.’

  ‘Ian, if you ever cared for me at all, tell me where she is.’

  ‘I can’t tell you because I don’t know,’ he said. ‘If I did know I would contact her and tell her to go home right away and see you, but I don’t know where she is and I have no way of contacting her.’

  ‘If she’s already been taken into witness protection, I won’t be able to find her. I’m her sister, Ian. I have to see her.’

  ‘Geraldine, come home now and at least get a couple of hours’ sleep tonight. You’re behaving irrationally because you’re too tired to think sensibly. What you’re doing is insane, and it isn’t helping anyone. Helena isn’t there and nothing you or I can do is going to magically make her appear.’ He paused. ‘Listen, Helena’s safe for the time being, and so are you, and that’s what matters. Nothing’s going to happen tonight.’

  ‘No,’ Geraldine wailed, ‘that’s not the only thing that matters. I have to say goodbye before she’s taken away.’

  Crying too hard to speak, she hung up and returned to her car, afraid she might never see her twin sister again. They were dead to one another, and it was all Ian’s fault. He had no right to insist that Helena be spirited away like that against Geraldine’s wishes.

  Slowly she made her way back to York. After stopping for an early breakfast on the way, she went straight to work without going home. A few of her colleagues were already there and she spent a fruitless half hour trawling through images of villains implicated in drug deals, vainly hoping to spot someone who might match the appearance of the men she had seen concealed by balaclavas. They could have been just about any of the images she saw on her screen. When her colleague Ariadne arrived, Geraldine reciprocated her cheerful greeting, and turned her attention to her allotted tasks for the day. Halfway through the morning, Ian passed her desk. He stared morosely at her as he walked by, but he said nothing.

  ‘You look exhausted,’ Ariadne said, frowning at Geraldine across the intervening desks. ‘Are you all right?’

  Geraldine nodded. ‘Just focused,’ she replied a trifle curtly, keen to end the conversation.

  ‘Let’s go for a coffee,’ Ariadne suggested.

  ‘I’d rather crack on,’ Geraldine replied, declining the invitation.

  A team had been occupied questioning all the guests who had been at the club on the night of the murder, and it was a mammoth task to read through all the statements. So far none of them had revealed anything of interest, but Geraldine pressed on.

  ‘You know how it is,’ she added, ‘the very last report is going to be the one that has some significant detail.’

  Ariadne nodded without answering, but she looked concerned.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ she asked again towards the end of the morning.

  ‘Yes,’ Geraldine replied without looking up from her screen. ‘Why?’

  Ariadne shook her head and her long, dark curls bounced on her shoulders. ‘Nothing, it’s just that you look terrible. What’s wrong?’

  Geraldine gave a half-hearted smile. ‘I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ she replied.

  ‘Late night?’

  ‘Something like that. I didn’t sleep well, that’s all.’

  Ariadne gave a sympathetic grunt before turning her attention back to her work.

  24

  Bella glared at John. ‘You can’t,’ she blurted out, ‘you just can’t.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Bella,’ he replied. ‘I’d rather not go, but you must see that I don’t have any choice in the matter. I’ve already been off w
ork for four days and I can’t stay away indefinitely.’

  ‘I get it that you have to go back to work, but you can’t go away. You can’t leave York, not now. John, our daughter’s missing! Surely you can tell them you can’t leave York until she comes home. We have to be here, both of us. We need each other. And what about Zoe? We have to be here together when she comes home.’

  ‘And I need to earn a living,’ he replied. Far from repentant, he looked smug. ‘They want me to visit the London office, and I can’t back out at this late stage, not when the meeting was arranged months ago. There are meetings all tomorrow, and all the regional managers will be there. I can’t refuse to go, so don’t make a fuss, please. It’s only for two nights. If the boss says I have to be there, that’s the end of it. You know I’d stay here if I could, but I’m not going to risk losing my job over this.’

  ‘This?’ she repeated furiously. ‘By “this” I take it you mean our daughter’s disappearance?’

  ‘Besides,’ he went on, ignoring her outburst, ‘a girl who runs away from home is more than likely going to end up in London. Who knows? I might even find her while I’m there.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she snapped. ‘London is vast. There’s no chance you’ll find her there. What? You think you’re just going to spot her in a crowded street somewhere and bring her home?’

  ‘No,’ he replied with exaggerated patience, ‘but I can take photos of Zoe with me and show them to the local police while I’m there.’

  ‘Her picture will already have been circulated to the police nationwide,’ Bella said. ‘If she’d gone to London, the police would have told us. What? Do you think they wouldn’t know about it? She couldn’t have travelled there without being spotted. There are cameras everywhere on the trains and buses. She wouldn’t be able to leave York without being seen. You don’t really think you could find her when they can’t?’