Cold Heart: Absolutely gripping serial-killer fiction

by Stephen Edger

  Kate narrowed her eyes.

  ‘Camera has his van entering the school grounds at three on Friday afternoon,’ Quinlan added, ‘as the school was kicking out, and the van is seen leaving just before five, but he wasn’t signed in for that period, and he hadn’t been called out to repair anything.’

  Kate’s pulse quickened. ‘What does Jackson have to say about that?’ Kate asked.

  ‘Phone still going to voicemail, ma’am,’ Laura confirmed. ‘You want me to get vehicle recognition to run a search?’

  Kate nodded.

  ‘What about the company he works for? Have you managed to—’

  ‘Self-employed. According to his website, he’s a sole trader and although there are images of other people in the banner on his site, he seems to be the only person listed as employed by the company.’

  ‘So, where is he?’

  Laura opened her mouth to speak when the phone behind her burst to life. Kate nodded for her to answer it, when a second phone rang, and then a third and then a fourth. Kate searched the faces of her team for answers, as they moved off to answer the disturbances.

  Laura lowered the phone, covering the mouthpiece. ‘Shit! Ma’am, you need to get the television on now. BBC One.’

  Kate frowned, but strode across the incident room to the dust-covered set in the corner, switching it on at the wall and flicking through the channels. Behind her, the room was suddenly buzzing with conversations and the distant sound of phones ringing. Kate turned up the volume, recognising the view of St Bartholomew’s over the reporter’s shoulder.

  ‘News of this discovery was broken by local newspaper reporter, Zoe Denton.’ The camera panned round to reveal Zoe, clutching the arm of an umbrella, her face taut. ‘Thank you for joining us, Zoe. Can you confirm what’s going on just behind us? We’ve seen technicians from the Scientific Services Department coming and going through the school gates since Friday.’

  ‘From what I understand, the police were already on site when the human foot was discovered on the property after hours. Access to the school has been restricted ever since, but my source tells me the focus of the activity is in and around the old sports hall.’

  Kate’s head snapped round, looking at her team, all now manning one phone or another as the news filtered out to the general public and terrified parents reacted. Kate turned back to stare at Zoe Denton on the screen. A talented and determined journalist, their paths had first crossed when Kate had been transferred to Southampton and Kate had called on Zoe for support when hunting Amy Spencer’s killer last year. But who was Zoe’s source this time? Kate didn’t want to think that anyone in her team would have leaked these details.

  ‘And this, of course, is the school missing teenager Daisy Emerson attended,’ the reporter continued. ‘Why do you think this discovery is being kept under wraps? Do you think the foot belonged to Daisy?’

  The skin around Zoe’s eyes tightened further. ‘It would explain why no formal statement has yet to be made to the public, and why the school will be closed for the next few days.’

  Kate wasn’t even aware that the supe had reached a decision about closing the school, thought it was definitely the right call.

  Laura sidled over. ‘We’re going to need help manning these phones. This story is now on the BBC news site, and starting to trend on social media. This is just the start.’

  Kate gritted her teeth. ‘If I find out who leaked this information…’ She didn’t need to finish the sentence. ‘Do me a favour. Go down to the switchboard and have them stop filtering calls up here. We don’t have time to be manning these calls. Finding Daisy is still our priority.’ Taking a deep breath, Kate added, ‘I’d better go and brief the supe.’

  30

  Heading into the corridor, Kate caught sight of Hendrix disappearing into the supe’s office. She hurried down the corridor, reaching the door just as it was closing, but forcing her hand in to keep it open. ‘Is this about our girl with the removed tattoo?’

  Hendrix pulled at the door, allowing Kate to enter with a look of resignation. Once the three of them were seated, she nodded. ‘I just met with a source who works the streets in St Mary’s and as soon as I asked her if any of the usual girls had recently gone AWOL, her face filled with panic.’

  Kate glanced the supe out of the corner of her eye, but he seemed happy for her to take the lead here. ‘Panic?’

  ‘You’ve got to understand that these women, whilst they’re rivals for the business they operate in, they’re like a family, looking out for each other, recording registration numbers of the cars the others go off in, so that if anything bad happens they can pinpoint who is responsible.’

  ‘Is that what happened here? Was she able to give you the details of someone who took our girl?’

  Hendrix shook her head. ‘That’s just it. She wasn’t taken, at least not that my source knew of.’

  Kate’s brow furrowed. ‘Are you saying she just didn’t turn up one night?’

  ‘Not exactly. My source says her friend Maria wanted out; she wanted to jack it in and try and lead a more normal life. But to do so, she needed to buy herself out of the contract with her pimp. My source said Maria was determined to go clean, kicking the drugs, giving up smoking and drinking in an effort to save every penny to earn what she needed to get free.’

  ‘And did she manage it?’

  ‘According to my source, yes. She didn’t know how Maria managed to get her hands on the ten grand needed to buy her freedom, but apparently she did, and was last seen a week ago.’

  ‘Where does a sex worker get her hands on ten thousand pounds?’

  Hendrix just shrugged.

  ‘Who’s your source? I want to speak to her,’ Kate tried again.

  ‘No. Impossible.’

  Kate fired a look at the supe, looking for support.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Hendrix continued, ‘but my source has already put herself in enough danger just talking to me.’

  ‘Why? She hasn’t told you anything; not really.’

  ‘Even so, just talking to me could be enough to get her killed by the people she works for. I’m sorry, but she’s off limits.’

  ‘Sir, if I’m to find out what really happened to this woman, then —’

  The supe sat forward. ‘Our primary duty is to determine what happened and ensure justice is served.’

  Kate began to smile, but then he continued.

  ‘That said, we also have a duty of care to DI Hendrix’s Confidential Informant, and if allowing her to speak to DI Matthews puts her life at risk, then it’s an avenue we can’t pursue.’

  ‘What?’ Kate demanded. ‘But, sir, if—’

  ‘I’m sorry, Matthews, but we can’t risk the CI’s life too. That’s the end of it.’

  Kate fixed Hendrix with a stare. ‘Did your source say if she saw Maria after she’d paid her debt?’ Kate pressed.

  ‘No. When she last saw her, Maria said she’d managed to secure the money she needed and would deliver it to their pimp that night when he surfaced. My source did say she was surprised Maria had managed to get the cash so quickly, but was just happy that she was going to get a shot at a new life.’

  ‘Did she not phone Maria after, to find out if she’d been successful?’

  ‘She said she tried to phone Maria to see if they could meet for a chat last Wednesday, but the phone was off and doesn’t appear to have been switched on since.’

  ‘Didn’t your source find that odd? Did she report her concerns to anyone?’

  ‘She figured Maria had dumped the phone, so she could turn her back on the old life; not wanting anyone to remind her of where she’d escaped.’

  ‘And the pimp? Did he have anything to say about it?’

  ‘I haven’t spoken to him.’

  Kate puffed. ‘Well, I will then.’

  ‘He won’t talk to you.’

  ‘He will if I arrest him.’

  Hendrix grunted. ‘No, he won’t. He’ll lawyer up, give you “n
o comment” answers and be out in under an hour. These people are used to fending the police off. Unless you have hard evidence linking him to a specific crime, he won’t utter a word. And he’ll probably take it out on women like my CI, assuming one of them has spoken to us. Organised crime is a different beast to what you’re used to, Matthews. Our suspects don’t crack in the same way as common criminals. These people know the rule books inside and out and know exactly how to avoid detection.’

  ‘What if Maria went to pay the pimp, he kept the money and then killed her. A body being chopped up before disposal isn’t uncommon in the world you’re describing.’

  ‘And if you can find evidence directly linking him to something – evidence that will stick – I’ll drive you down there myself so you can arrest him. But until that happens, you need to stay clear of St Mary’s.’

  ‘At least give me a surname. Let me find out whether this Maria is our vic.’

  ‘Alexandrou,’ Hendrix huffed. ‘Her name is Maria Alexandrou.’ Hendrix handed Kate a piece of paper with an address on it. ‘My source said Maria rented a room here. The landlady says Maria hasn’t been back there in over a week.’

  Kate accepted the piece of paper begrudgingly, and both women began to stand.

  ‘Matthews, hang back, please,’ the supe said. His neck tie was again pulled down, his sleeves were rolled up, and it didn’t look like he’d shaved in at least two days. She wondered how much of the stress on his shoulders was coming from above, and how much was being driven by the turmoil Tara was kicking up at home.

  He waited until the door was closed. ‘Assuming for a moment that this Maria Alexandrou is our vic, it begs the questions, how and why was she at the school?’

  ‘You’re suggesting one of the staff is responsible.’

  ‘I can’t think of any other reason the body would have been chopped up there. Who are your suspects?’

  ‘Nobody obvious jumping out yet, but we’re interested in two. The first – Ismael Vardan – is a form tutor at the school, but our interest in him stemmed from believing the foot may have belonged to Daisy. But now that that line has been closed—’

  ‘What made you suspect him?’

  ‘He is Daisy’s form tutor and English teacher. One of the teachers we spoke to last week suggested we could look more closely at their relationship.’

  The supe raised his eyebrows. ‘And?’

  ‘And at his previous school, one of his pupils made allegations of inappropriate advances against Vardan, but despite an extensive investigation, no charges were brought, and the pupil later retracted his statement.’

  ‘What does Vardan have to say for himself?’

  ‘We spoke to him about Daisy on Friday morning, but unsurprisingly he denied anything untoward, and accused us of trying to fit him up for her disappearance based on the lies of the previous pupil.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘His whereabouts are unaccounted for three hours on Thursday, which we believe was the day the body was chopped up.’

  ‘You think he did it?’

  ‘If I knew he’d already be in custody.’

  ‘Anybody else?’

  ‘Chris Jackson, a photocopy engineer. Was apparently seen on camera at the school on Thursday and Friday, but was never signed in on Friday. He is AWOL and I want vehicle recognition and phone signal tracking launched.’

  ‘Do either this Vardan or Jackson have form?’

  Kate shook her head.

  ‘Anyone else we should be looking at?’

  ‘Liam Phillips’ company has access to the sports hall, but denies any wrongdoing. I want to look into his background more, because there’s something about him that just didn’t sit right for me.’

  ‘All right, you’d better get cracking. We need this completed as soon as possible. I’m getting heat from the Chief Super. He’s agreed to the school being closed for the first three days of the week, but on the understanding that we deliver him a suspect in that time.’

  Kate scrunched her nose, not wanting to share the news, but knowing she had to. ‘There’s something else you should know. My reason for coming in here originally was to advise that BBC news is reporting the discovery of the foot at the school. Someone has talked to the press.’

  ‘Someone in your team? Who?’

  Kate fixed him with a certain stare. ‘I’m sure it’s not anybody from within my team, sir. I would vouch for all of them.’

  ‘Your loyalty to your team is one of your strongest character traits, Kate, but don’t allow that to blind you from the truth. You know how lucrative such stories can be. Nip it in the bud. I will speak to the Media Relations team and get some sort of statement released.’ He nodded towards the door; her cue that the meeting was over.

  31

  Freeborn rushed over to Kate as she stepped back into the incident room. ‘Hot off the press, the IP address—’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Hold on, sorry, their written English isn’t great. Uh, it seems they managed to trace the IP address to a server in a building on the outskirts of Amsterdam… inside the building they found multiple servers… building owned by a company specialising… oh… they don’t think the profile was accessed in Amsterdam.’

  Kate frowned. ‘What? I don’t follow, what are you saying?’

  Freeborn lowered his phone. ‘Okay, um, listen, so when surfing online every internet-capable device, be it laptop, phone, tablet, or whatever has an IP address – basically a code that identifies the network you’re linked to and the device being used. Think of it as a return address so that every time you go online you leave a trail of breadcrumbs back to your activity. Now, in this day and age where everyone is so privacy-obsessed and individuals want to mask that trail of breadcrumbs or return address, it’s possible to get hold of software that will alter your IP address to make it seem like you are somewhere totally different. There are loads of companies offering this service at a cost, but it’s pretty easy to set it up. According to the Dutch police, the building they visited was a base unit for one of these companies, allowing the user to pretend they were in Amsterdam when Daisy’s profile was accessed.’

  Kate was struggling to keep up, technology not her strong suit. ‘So, whoever liked Hannah’s photo—’

  ‘Probably wasn’t in Amsterdam, ma’am.’

  ‘So, where were they?’

  ‘They can’t say for certain. We’ll need a warrant to get the user’s true IP address from the company, but the company isn’t based in the UK or the Netherlands, so we’re going to need to track their actual address and apply for an international warrant to access that information. It’s not going to be easy, ma’am. This is why so many of these internet pirate download sites manage to evade prosecution.’

  ‘So, it’s possible that Daisy’s profile was accessed from the UK all along?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  Kate sighed. ‘Would Daisy know how to use this masking software to hide her actual location?’

  Freeborn sighed. ‘Maybe, I’ll speak to her teachers and find out how IT-literate she is. If she knew how to use it, it would make sense that she would like the post so her friends knew she was safe, knowing that her true location wouldn’t be discovered. But it’s a big if.’

  *

  ‘This must be the place,’ Laura commented, as Kate opened the wooden gate, weathered and chipped by time and the elements.

  Kate double-checked the address Hendrix had given her. ‘Yeah, this is it.’

  ‘Do you think the foot belongs to Maria?’

  ‘We’ll know soon enough,’ Kate said, pressing the doorbell.

  The frail old lady with a purple-rinse perm, beige cardigan and checked skirt who opened the door was a far cry from what Kate had anticipated.

  ‘Yes, dear,’ the old woman said, squinting behind jam-jar-thick glasses.

  Kate passed her identification to the woman who studied it, practically touching it to the lenses. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Kate Matt
hews,’ she added, speaking slowly and sounding out every vowel, ‘and this is my colleague Detective Constable Laura Trotter. May we come in?’

  The woman smiled broadly, handing the identification back. ‘Please do, would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ Kate replied, knowing they didn’t have much time.

  The old woman showed them to a small living room, where a halogen heater glowed orange in the corner. Kate and Laura both removed their jackets and opted for the sofa furthest from the heater. The old woman reappeared a few moments later, the tea cups and saucers rattling as she struggled to carry the tray through. Kate quickly stood and offered to take the tray, placing it on a coffee table closest to the woman, and handing out the cups.

  ‘Lovely cup of tea,’ Kate offered, kindly.

  The woman nodded graciously, her hand trembling as she placed the cup to her lips. ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘We were told you have a lodger living with you? A young woman called Maria?’

  ‘Oh, not any more, dear, I’m afraid.’

  Kate glanced nervously at Laura. ‘But you did have someone called Maria living with you?’

  ‘Yes, she was a lovely wee girl, but unfortunately not very good at paying her rent on time. I had to let her go.’

  ‘Did she leave a forwarding address?’

  The woman frowned with disappointment. ‘No, I’m afraid not, dear.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw Maria, Mrs Owen?’

  The old woman paused, thinking back. ‘Must have been two weeks ago. She was already a month in arrears, and it was the day she was due to pay February’s rent, and she said she didn’t have it. I hate to say we got into a bit of a disagreement, and she left, promising she would find the money and come back, but she never did. My son wasn’t happy. He’s been saying for months that she was taking advantage of me, but it was nice to have some company around this old place. It’s not like I needed the rent money, but my son insisted.’

  ‘Would you mind if we take a look around her room; maybe she left some clue where she’d moved on to?’