Marigolds in October

by Clare Revell

  Craig tilted his head. “How?”

  Milly wrung her hands. “We never worked that out, but he knew we were close and that DI Maddox was going to arrest him. Anyway, we traced his car to an abandon shopping mall in East London. I knew he’d be armed, so I called in the ARU. We surrounded the mall and waited for them to show up.”

  Craig noticed the way her nostrils flared as she spoke. Sweat beaded her brow and upper lip and her eyes flickered. She’d edged forwards on the chair as if needing to run. She was lying to him about something. But what? She’d said grace before eating, just like he had, so lying probably didn’t come easy to her.

  He cleared his throat. “What are you no telling me?”

  Milly avoided the question. “The perp started taunting us over Maddox’s radio, saying he was going to kill her. She yelled something about petrol. I knew we didn’t have time to wait, so I sent the team in.” Her bottom lip trembled, and she rubbed a hand over her eyes.

  Craig handed her the box of tissues. Tears never moved him one way or the other when he was interviewing a suspect, and this is what that amounted to. Is it? His internal voice taunted. She isny a suspect. She didnae torch that building.

  No, she may not have lit the match, but she ordered the cops inside with no back up.

  Milly sucked in a deep breath, composing herself. “Sorry.”

  He nodded. “So, you sent your team in tae do what?”

  “Get Maddox out, arrest the perp. But he blew the building. There was enough petrol in there that a spark would have set it off, never mind the amount of explosives he’d rigged up. Everyone in there died. We heard the screams over the radio. I tried to get in, but it was too hot. By the time the fire brigade arrived, it was too late.”

  “Did forensics recover all the bodies?”

  “Yes, with the exception of the perp. But he’d had charges strapped to himself, or so he’d said. So there’d be nothing left. We found his DNA there.”

  “Why leave hair and jewelry at the scene of the abductions? That’s stumped vice for a while.”

  “It depersonalizes the women,” Milly replied. “Strip them of their beauty and wealth.”

  “Did you find a link between the seven women?”

  “First few were tow rags…”

  “Excuse me?” Craig dropped his fork. “That is no way to refer tae anyone.”

  Milly held his gaze. “Tow rags means they were prostitutes, ladies of the night, but the fourth victim was married, which kind of threw us at first. Until we discovered she was an escort working under an assumed name without her husband’s knowledge. Obviously. I mean what man in his right mind would allow his wife to do that?”

  “She was married?”

  “Yeah.” She pulled a face as she sipped the coffee and stood. “It’s cold. Want a refill?”

  Craig held out his cup. “Sure. It doesnae say in the file anything aboot her being married.”

  “It should have done. Maybe it got changed to her working name. But I don’t see why. This pot is empty. Shall I make more?”

  Craig glanced at his watch and collected all the rubbish from his desk. He stuffed it into the waste bin. “No bother, it’s almost ten. We’ll call it a night and carry on in the morning.”

  Milly slid into her coat and picked up her bag. “Night, then, sir.”

  He grabbed his overcoat and walked out with her, intending to see her safely to her car. As they reached the parking area, he glanced at her. “Just oot o’interest, what is Milly short for? Millicent?”

  She looked at him, unlocking her car from a distance. “No. And I’d rather not say. I got teased an awful lot at school because of my name, and I don’t want it starting over again now.”

  Craig held open the car door for her. “A word o’warning, Jenson. If anyone gets hurt because of your actions here, you won’t merely get demoted. I’ll prosecute you tae the full extent of the law.”

  Milly froze halfway into the seat. “Is that a threat, sir, because I don’t respond well to threats.”

  “Nae, lassie. I dinnae make threats. It’s a promise.”

  ****

  Craig was up at five-thirty, unable to get Milly out of his mind. She’d filled his dreams with her east end accent, the way she’d glared at him, and the irritating way she answered back. Something bothered him about her, and it wasn’t simply the fact she’d lied to him. Well, not lied as such, more like missed something out when talking over the case the previous evening.

  He changed into his running gear, and pounded the dark, silent streets until he reached Dunbarney Walk about a five minute run from where he lived. He set off along the path, the only other people joggers or dog walkers. A tramp slept on a bench under a tree and Craig toyed with the idea of hauling him in, but decided he didn’t need the extra paperwork. Instead, he ran on for about three miles before turning around and heading home, calling in at the shop for a paper.

  Once back at his house, he showered and scanned the paper over coffee. Then, he jumped in the car and drove to the lodges. He’d pick Milly up and drive her in the scenic way. Show her the grittier side of the city he worked in and kept safe. Well, tried to keep safe.

  He knocked on the door of lodge eleven just after eight.

  Milly opened the door, a slice of toast in her hand. “Sir. Is everything all right?”

  “I have something tae show you on the way into work. I’ll drive.”

  “Do you want some coffee? I’m not ready to leave yet.”

  “Thank you.” He went inside and shut the door as Milly headed into the kitchen. He’d never been inside one of these cabins and glanced around, liking what he saw. He gazed out of the window which overlooked the play area and other lodges. A figure sat on the balcony of one of the other lodges, watching him over the top of the paper.

  Craig turned away, taking the offered coffee. “Either you’re sick, tired, or you’ve no put any makeup on yet.”

  “I don’t wear makeup, but I didn’t sleep much last night. Going over the original case is giving me nightmares.”

  “If you cannae handle it…” he began.

  “I can cope.” She cut him off. “There are just too many similarities between the two cases for me to think it’s a copycat.”

  He finished his coffee. “Tell me when we get to work. I want tae show you where the girls were taken from, as well as some of Perth.”

  Milly grabbed her bag and coat and followed him outside. She locked the door and dropped the key into her bag. Her feet echoed on the wooden ramp, then crunched on the gravel. “It’s chilly this morning.”

  “Aye, tis a wee bit on the cold side.”

  “How long am I likely to be here?” she asked.

  He reversed off the gravel and headed back past the lodges to the main road. “Why? Do you have somewhere tae be?”

  “No, it’s just Mary from reception said the lodge had been booked for a month, and I don’t have that kind of money right now.”

  “You dinnae need tae worry aboot payment. It’s sorted.” He glanced at her. “Besides, you cannae go home until the case is solved, and we’re a long way from that yet. Seven victims, remember? If it’s a copycat he’ll stick to the pattern.”

  She drummed her fingers on the door panel. “I know that. But maybe we’ll catch a break and get him before then. Maybe we’ll find Mrs. Tanner alive.”

  “Mibbe we will.”

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  He shrugged and took the turn off to the recycling plant.

  Milly raised an eyebrow. “Where are we going?”

  “I want to show you some of the city. This is the way to the harbor, and the cold storage facility. It’s now the Ice Factory.” He drew the car to a halt outside the tall, imposing red bricked building. Around it grey buildings were bricked up and closed off. On the other side of the road, the river wound through the harbor where a huge container ship was moored, ready to unload its containers.

  “An ice factory?” she asked
.

  “It’s a nightclub now. The owners kept the name as that’s what everyone kent it as.”

  “Isn’t it a little far from town?”

  “No really.” He drove to the end of the road. “Ken where you are now?”

  Milly glanced to her left. “That’s the road from the village, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “That’s the procurator fiscal, court house.” He turned off. “Now I’ll tak’ you tae the old brickworks. It’s no somewhere you wanna be walking alone after dark.”

  “I can take care of myself.” Indignation flooded her voice and he grinned.

  “I’m sure you can, lassie, but even so, dinnae do it.” He turned into the brickworks. “One of the girls was taken from here. They are used as garages and storage lockers noo.” He drove slowly amongst the tall red buildings with multiple doors on the right. To the left were cars, some wrecked, some burned out, others awaiting repair. He drove to the end before negotiating a very tight three-point turn.

  A blond man in blue overalls waved him down.

  Craig stopped the car and opened the window. “What’s up?”

  “Are you on duty, Craig?”

  Craig nodded. “Aye, Graeme. What’s up?”

  “I found something in the back o’the garage you might want tae take a look at. It’s the dead girl’s bag.”

  5

  Craig straightened in his seat. “Did you touch it?”

  Graeme shook his head. “No. I was about to call the station.”

  “I’ll do that. Dinnae go back in there.” Craig pulled out his phone. He dialed rapidly. “This is DCI Fraser. I need forensics and a team to AM Motors on the Brickworks ASAP.”

  Milly released her seatbelt. “Shouldn’t we at least go and look?”

  “I’m due in a meeting, and there’s a lot tae do first.”

  She twisted and looked at him. He wasn’t sure if that was despair or horror on her face.

  “Look, you may not want me anywhere near your case, but I’m here, you’re here, and I’m not convinced it’s a copycat. I want to see this first hand.”

  He waved his hand. “So, go, look. Dinnae touch anything.”

  She got out of the car. “I do know what I’m doing. Sir.”

  “I’m sure you do. Inspector.” He sucked in a deep breath. She wasn’t the only one who could add a title on as a delayed sign of respect. That woman is going tae be the death o’me. Lord, give me patience with her, but hurry.

  Milly pulled shoe covers and latex gloves from her bag. “Coming?” she asked as she pulled them on.

  Craig followed her to the door of the garage. He flipped up the torch app on his phone and shone it inside. “This is where they found her.”

  “And there’s the bag.” Milly carefully made her way over to it.

  “I said dinnae touch anything.”

  “I’m not.” She took several photos on her phone.

  “What are you doing? I’ve called in forensics.”

  “And you trust them, do you? After they missed this?”

  He had to admit she had a valid point. “Carry on.” He watched as she photographed and then took notes on her phone. She was thorough, he’d give her that. Checking his watch, he flashed his torch in her face briefly. “I need tae go. I have a meeting in an hour, and we still need tae finish the briefing.”

  “Coming.” She moved back to the entrance, shoving the shoe covers into a plastic bag. As he raised an eyebrow, she shrugged. “You never know.”

  He nodded curtly and looked at the garage owner. “Shut the door and don’t let anyone in until forensics arrive.”

  ****

  Milly sat in the chair she’d been in last night. The office still smelled faintly of chips from the previous evening, even though the bin had been emptied.

  Craig threw wide the window and settled back in his chair. He fixed those intense blue eyes on her. “I want to pick up from where we left off last night. Two questions. First, you mentioned similarities between the two cases. I want tae ken what they are. Second, the fourth victim was married, but that fact was missing from the file. Answer that one first.”

  “Actually that answer fits both questions in a way. MaryAnn, to use her working name, was an escort who didn’t want her husband knowing about her seedier side. According to her best friend and co-owner in the escort agency, it would have been bad for business.”

  Craig steepeled his fingers and narrowed his eyes. “His or hers?”

  “Both presumably. He was a cop.” She noted the looked of shock that knocked her boss upright in his chair. “Chief Superintendent in the Met, to give him his full title, had been married to Mary-Ann for ten years, and they had three kids.”

  Craig whistled. “So it was left out deliberately?”

  Milly shrugged. “All I know is that I wrote it in the file myself and now you say it’s missing. Along with her married name. I’m guessing someone, possibly high up the chain of command, wanted that little tidbit kept quiet. It was also kept out of the papers.”

  “No surprises there. What about my other question?”

  “I don’t think it’s a copycat. Things are slightly different.”

  “Aye, well, this isny England, so it would be.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know that. You lot all talk funny.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and she wished he wouldn’t because it made him look so cute she just wanted to giggle.

  “All talk funny, sir.” She shot him a smile, hoping he’d know she was teasing, as she grabbed a file and held it out. “Like I was saying, your cases are slightly different, but not enough to be poles apart. Take a look at this. Your victim three—and no I haven’t read it yet, aside from the victim’s name. I want to make a guess at how it goes. Just humor me a second.”

  He sighed and took the file. “Go aheid.”

  “Her name is Sara. She’s twenty-six, blonde hair, blue eyes. He took her from a small convenience store car park. She was athletic, probably on her way home from the gym because she had sports gear in the boot of her car.”

  “That was in the paper.”

  “Funny enough we don’t get the local Scottish rag in Headley Cross. Add to that her hair was hacked off and left on the front passenger seat. Along with any jewelry she was wearing. The only exception to the jewelry thing is Sandy Tanner’s wedding and engagement rings, which still haven’t turned up, right?”

  “Aye.” Something flickered in his eyes.

  “Right, now in MaryAnn’s case, the rings never turned up until afterwards. In fact, I’m still not sure she was one of his at all.”

  “Why not?”

  “Things just didn’t add up. Stab wounds rather than gunshots indicate the injuries were personal. And then the killer was right handed rather than left handed.”

  “Mibbe he was ambidextrous.”

  Millie shrugged. “Everyone else said the MO matched, even the Chief Super, so…”

  Craig tossed the file to the desk. “You cannae seriously think the man killed his own wife and made it look like the work of a serial killer.”

  “Why not? It’s the perfect cover.”

  He hissed between his teeth. “No wonder you were demoted. And, no, I am no going tae tell the Chief Constable I suspect his daughter is an escort and her husband murdered her.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to bring him in for questioning. The husband, that is, not the Chief Constable.”

  He rose, indicating the meeting was over. “Dinnae even think it. I have tae go. Read the rest o’the files and make notes. See what other similarities you can find.”

  “Sir.” Millie headed back to her office. Reaching the main squad room, she moved over to the board and wiped part of it clean. Then she grabbed the whiteboard pen and drew a two column table. She headed the left hand column HC and the right hand one P. Then she gave each column seven rows.

  Vickery looked at her. “What are you doing?”

  “Mapping out the two cases.” Milly listed the seve
n victims from the original case on the left. Elizabeth Stride, Janice Moray, Susan Black, MaryAnn (Sasha Anderson), Hilary Dunham, Vicky Pollard, DI Maddox. Then on the right she listed the victims so far. Esther Williams, Jenny Gough, Sara McDonald, Sandy Tanner. She turned and looked at the men. “What do you notice?”

  “There are more names on the left than on the right.” Vickery smirked as he spoke. “And the initials of the first names match.”

  Milly resisted the urge to snap. She jabbed the board with the pen. “These are the victims in the original case. These are those from the current one. Has anyone spoken to Mr. Tanner yet?” No answer was forthcoming, which didn’t surprise her in the least. “Then that needs doing. Vickery, you and DC Brooks head out and do that. The rest of you trace her movements over the past two days and compare them to the other girls. See if there’s a pattern.”

  “Is this coming from the DCI, because I’m sure he said tae leave Mr. Tanner alone?”

  “No, this is coming from me.”

  “Then we’re no doing it.” Vickery leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

  Milly stared at him. “What is your rank again?”

  “Sergeant.”

  “Hmmm, the last time I checked—” she folded her arms and leaned her hip against the board “—DI was higher than DS.”

  “And DCI is higher than DI. Or have you forgotten your fall from grace?”

  Milly stood her ground. “You want to go over my head, fine. But DCI Fraser is in a meeting. I gave you an order, and I expect it to be followed.”

  The men ignored her.

  Furious, it was all she could do not to stamp her feet. “Unless you want me to put you all on report, I suggest you get off your backsides and do as you’re told. Go and interview Mr. Tanner. Find out his wife’s last movements, his last movements, and check out the rest of the girls.”

  She shoved her hands on her hips and stood there, eyes narrowed. Times like this she wished she really could breathe fire. She counted to five, then turned and headed into her office to use the phone. She’d rather not have the whole department overhearing her call. She rang down to forensics, only to find they hadn’t even left for the garages yet. She repeated the urgency.