Wild Thing: 'a chilling cold-blooded killer' (Ted Darling crime series Book 7)

by L M Krier

  'Yes and no, boss. I know where he is. He's in Germany, working, and has been for the past year, from the information I have so far. I've got a phone number for where he's supposed to be working, so I'll give them a call and hope I can manage to find someone who can sprechen Englisch, as those are about the only two words I know.'

  'If you get stuck, Trev's German is fluent and he'd be happy to help. It would save me a few quid on the budget that way, too.

  'For now, we need to continue to treat each case as a separate entity, while keeping in mind the possible link. We're going to need extra bodies, though, and that's one thing I want to talk to the Big Boss and the Super about. I'll go and do that now, unless anyone else has got anything, so you know where to find me, if you need me urgently.

  'Just a timely reminder to everyone, though. Check and double check everything, please. We nearly got off to a false start this morning because someone had assumed that a mother would automatically have the same surname as her daughter. Of course, that's not always the case.'

  As they headed downstairs together, Jim told Ted, 'You're going to need more manpower on this, clearly. You can't run four separate enquiries yourself; it's not humanly possible. And if they are connected, you still need more bodies. I'll come over and base myself here for a bit. Then I can at least man the fort and run the paperwork while you do the legwork.'

  'I can handle it,' Ted said, sounding stubborn.

  'Ted, you're not Superman. You don't wear your bloody pants outside your trousers. Accept some help, before you're forced to do so from higher up than me.'

  'I do want an FLO on the case though, as soon as possible. Can you get me one?'

  A Family Liaison Officer could work with Morgane and her father to deal with what they'd been through, and might help the daughter to remember details she may have suppressed. They were also trained in helping to manage the press intrusion that would inevitably follow a case which was bound to attract a lot of publicity.

  'I've got the perfect person for you, and I happen to know she's just finished a big case, so she's free. DC Kate Jones. She'll be ideal for this. A good officer and a mother of two. I'll make the call.'

  He was still on his mobile phone as the two of them went into the Ice Queen's office. As they sat down, she got up to serve coffee.

  'Right, you'll have Kate tomorrow morning by ten, when she should have finished writing up her reports on the previous case. Just let me know what other reinforcements you need and I'll sort them. Morning, Debs; sorry, I should have said that first.'

  Jim took the seat she indicated, the chair creaking in protest as he lowered his bulk onto it, and gratefully accepted the coffee she placed in front of him.

  Ted quickly went over what he'd already told the team, then Jim joined in.

  'This is either Serious or Serial or both, so without wanting to tread on anyone's toes, I'm planning to install myself here for the foreseeable. Ted thinks it means I don't trust him,' he said with a sideways glance at his colleague and friend, 'but in fact it's because I trust him too much. I know he'll work himself into the ground if I don't keep an eye on him.'

  'Quite so.'

  Ted looked from one to the other of his senior officers, as they seemed intent on discussing him as if he wasn't there.

  'I am here, you know.'

  'And you must realise we're both responsible for your welfare, as you are for your team's. I can see you're itching to get back to your enquiry, so Jim and I will talk budgets and leave you to it.'

  'I'll be happy to use a corner of the desk in your little cubby hole, Ted. No need to turf anyone out to make room for me. You won't even know I'm there.'

  Ted was anxious to speak to the uniformed officers who had attended the scene where Morgane Edwards had been found. He'd phoned Kevin earlier to ask to see them when he'd finished morning briefing. Kevin had kept them back for him, writing up their reports of the incident, so it was fresh in their minds when they spoke to Ted.

  He knew both of them to be experienced officers who would give him all the details he needed without any omissions or oversights. The more senior of the two did most of the talking, her partner just adding the odd detail or clarification as she spoke.

  'The call came in at seven minutes past midnight. A young girl, who identified herself as Morgane Edwards, Morgane with an E, said her mother had been murdered at their house in Hillcrest Road. She quickly became hysterical, so the phone was taken by a person who was helping her, a Mr Taylor, who gave us the address where they were.

  'One unit was despatched to Hillcrest Road; Karen and I went to the house in Marple Old Road. Mr Taylor let us in. His wife was looking after a young girl who was bleeding from a head wound. She was still slightly hysterical and just kept repeating that a youth had broken into the house and killed her mother with a hammer. She said he'd thrown her against a work surface, where she injured her head, then had forced her to go with him to a car across the other side of the field at the back of the house. She said she'd managed to jump out of the car and run away.

  'Mr and Mrs Taylor had already gone to bed when she turned up. It seems they'd left a light on by accident, which is what Morgane saw. They were woken up by someone ringing the bell on their front gate and screaming for help. Mr Taylor went out and found Morgane in the lane outside, clearly distressed. Her hands were tied in front of her with cable ties. He helped her into the house and called his wife, who came to help.'

  'What happened to the cable ties?'

  'Mr Taylor cut them off with a pair of kitchen scissors and yes, sir. We did think to recover them. We bagged them and brought them in.'

  Ted heaved a silent sigh of relief. There could be valuable DNA on the ties, hopefully from their killer. They'd need a sample from the good Samaritan who had taken the girl in, to eliminate him, as he'd handled them.

  'Thanks, Tricia. Sorry to interrupt your flow.'

  'We didn't try to question Morgane too much. She was really too shaken up and we didn't want to press her until she'd been seen by a doctor, not with a head wound. We just got her to confirm what she'd said on the phone. She did tell us that she managed to jump out of the car at the lights by Seventeen Windows where the traffic was on stop. She said she ran up Marple Old Road and shouted for help at the first house where she saw a light on. Mr Taylor had already called an ambulance, which arrived not long after we did and took Morgane to hospital. She gave us her father's number so we could contact him. He said he'd go straight to the hospital.

  'We got statements from both Mr and Mrs Taylor, and we also spoke to some of the neighbours who had come out to see what the commotion was about. The elderly lady next door confirmed having heard someone screaming outside but admitted she was too frightened to do anything. She saw the Taylors helping Morgane into their house, but that was all.'

  'Did anyone see or hear another person, or a vehicle or anything?'

  'Nothing, sir. We did ask everyone. It is one way, of course, so if Morgane ran up from the lights, the car would have had to do a U-ey then either chase her the wrong way up the road, or drive round to the top end, by which time she would probably have been safely in the house.'

  'Excellent work, thanks, both of you. Just one small detail. The mother wasn't called Edwards. She was Stephanie Mason. Somewhere along the line, we got the wrong info to start with.'

  His next job was to listen to the original 999 call. Transcripts and second-hand testimony could only tell him so much. He needed to hear it for himself, to listen for any tiny nuance, each little hesitation, which might indicate something to him.

  He listened to it three times in succession. It appeared to be nothing more than what he had been told. A young girl's voice, sounding frightened, confused and hysterical. Asked which service she wanted, in response to her call, she started gabbling frantically.

  'Oh, God, I don't know. Police! No, ambulance! Both of them! Somebody help me, please. He's killed my mum.'

  The operator's voice; calm, prof
essional. Asking her to slow down and give her name and address.

  'I'm Morgane Edwards. Morgane with an E. Please help me! Someone broke into the house. He's battered my mum to death. Then he abducted me, in his car. I managed to escape.'

  The operator again, still patient and reassuring, asking for the address.

  'Mum's house is in Hillcrest Road. I'm ... oh God, I don't even know where I am.'

  There were muffled sounds as the phone was clearly passed to someone else. Then a man's voice, speaking in an even tone, without panic.

  'We're in Marple Old Road. Morgane turned up outside our gate just now, tied up. She has a head wound which is bleeding heavily so we will need an ambulance, please, urgently, and whatever you need to send to her mother's house.'

  Ted could hear an exchange in the background, the man asking the girl for more details. Then he came back on the line and gave exact addresses for both properties, with clear instructions of how to find his house.

  The operator asked the man to stay on the line while she put him through to ambulance control. Another calm voice took over, asking him questions about the girl's condition and making suggestions of what to do whilst he waited for the ambulance to arrive. They stayed on the line with him until he announced that the ambulance was there.

  Nothing untoward there. Nothing other than what he would have expected to hear. But it was always worth checking out for himself. He headed back upstairs to his office, which now felt even smaller than usual with Jim Baker installed at a corner of the desk. Ted was starting to feel like a man who'd been on duty since one o'clock in the morning and it was barely lunchtime yet. He was in urgent needed of a brew.

  'Kettle's just boiled,' Jim told him, clearly having read his mind. 'I'll leave you to make your own green gunge. I've no idea how you like that stuff. I don't even know how you can drink it.'

  He gave Ted a searching look and asked, 'You look knackered. Have you eaten yet?'

  'I had a bacon roll and a coffee earlier on.'

  'Well, you and I will take a stroll round to The Grapes together as soon as we get a moment. Get some proper scran inside you. You're no use to the enquiry if you keel over. And before you start to protest, that's not a suggestion.'

  'Jo and Mike have been on duty as long as I have.'

  'Yes, but it's you shouldering the responsibility. The three of you need to make sure you get away at a decent time today; get plenty of rest to come back at it fresh tomorrow. We've made Rob up to DS so he can sub for Mike when necessary. And if you think I'm not capable of doubling for you and Jo then I might just be offended. So, what have you got on that's going to stop you taking a bit of time to catch up on sleep and come back looking slightly more human tomorrow?'

  'I want to interview the daughter as soon as she's released from hospital. The earlier we get her statement, the sooner we can crack on.'

  'If she's being kept in hospital after a head injury, you won't get to interview her today. Next?'

  'I'm just waiting to hear when Bizzie Nelson can do the PM ...'

  As if on cue, his mobile phone rang and it was the Professor.

  'Your victim is on her way now, Edwin, but as I said, I can't fit her in today. It will have to be first thing in the morning. Are you still coming yourself?'

  'By first thing, you mean...?'

  'Six o'clock sharp, if that suits you?'

  Ted groaned inwardly but readily agreed.

  'That was Bizzie. The PM is early doors tomorrow. Six o'clock.'

  'Right, so as soon as you know when you can interview the girl, you can go and get some rest.'

  In fact it was much later in the afternoon before Ted got the call from Morgane Edwards' father to say that she was going to be discharged. He asked if, in the circumstances, Ted could delay visiting her until the following morning as she was still shaky and looked as if she just needed a good night's sleep. The father didn't sound too clever himself, but he mentioned he'd been called to the hospital mortuary to formally identify his ex-wife. Ted sympathised, although he knew Bizzie's team would have made her as presentable as they could first.

  'Morgane's fretting, wanting some of her own things from the house ...'

  'Not possible for now, I'm afraid. The house is now a crime scene, of course. Does she have anything at your house?'

  'Flat. Shoebox, in fact. Yes, she does, she always keeps a couple of changes of clothes here for when she visits. But she left her mobile phone at the house and she'd really like that, if at all possible.'

  Ted made non-committal noises. Everything within the crime scene would need to be checked so there was no way he could promise early return of even personal effects.

  'Fair enough, I understand. I also just wanted the chance to have a quick word with you first, without Morgane around to overhear. It's not a secret that the divorce was not a particularly amicable one and that, being a solicitor, my wife took me for every penny I had. That gives me something of a motive, I imagine, for wanting her dead.

  'I didn't kill her, however, and I certainly didn't abduct my own daughter. Nor did I pay anyone to do so, in case that was going to be your next question. Luckily, and this is the part I don't want Morgane to know about at this stage, I'm seeing someone else. And last night I was in bed with her, at her house in Holmes Chapel, when I got the call from the police to tell me what had happened.

  'I'm more than happy to give you her contact details, but I'd be grateful if you didn't tell Morgane. I'd prefer to do that in my own time. After everything she's been through, I worry it might upset her. She likes to pretend she's very grown up but in some ways she isn't. No doubt she'd deny it furiously, but she is a bit of a daddy's girl. She wanted to come and live with me, but my blood-sucking ex had made that impossible, financially speaking.

  'So I'll see you tomorrow, but I would be very grateful if this could be on a need to know basis, as far as Morgane is concerned.'

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Despite Jim Baker's best efforts, it was no earlier than usual when Ted finally admitted defeat and headed for home. He had to accept he'd done all he could for one day. The next day risked being a full one, with the early PM, a new team member joining them, and his first chance to interview the second victim in his latest case.

  He'd sent Trev a text to let him know roughly what time he'd be back. He'd gone past the stage of being tired now, feeling wide awake and scratchy, but he knew he needed to get some sleep before his early start the next morning. He had to be on top of his game with this case.

  The weather was fine and mild for once, a change from the recent succession of damp and dismal days. He found Trev out in the garden, his camping mat on the lawn while he went through his fitness routine on it. He was encircled by silent cats, watching his moves in fascination. He was doing effortless stomach curls, his muscles standing out under his tanned skin, when Ted appeared in the garden.

  Ted was struck with the familiar emotions he experienced whenever he saw his partner – overwhelming pride and admiration, tinged with feelings of inadequacy and incomprehension at what Trev saw in him.

  Trev finished his exercises then sprang lightly to his feet, picking up a towel to wipe perspiration from his face before greeting his partner with a kiss.

  'How was your day? It's been a long one. What time did you go out this morning?'

  'About one o'clock. You were fast asleep. Before I forget, I doubt I'll get to the dojo tomorrow, certainly not in time for self-defence. I really need to, though. I need a proper workout. And I need to get to my Krav Maga club, too, sometime soon. Can you sort the kids tomorrow? Oh, and if Flip turns up to watch, tell him I asked after him. How was your day?'

  'Playing with big bikes all day? What's not to love! I got to test ride a real beast of a new one Geoff is thinking of stocking. Best of all, I got to practise my Japanese. The rep couldn't answer everything we wanted to know so I phoned Tokyo for more details.'

  He was grinning his enthusiasm as he spoke. It sounded lik
e a better day than Ted's.

  'I'll just go and grab a shower and get changed before we eat, if you don't mind. I'm really sorry I'm not much company at the moment. You know what it's like, with a case like this.'

  'Luckily I live with you for the sex, not your sparkling repartee,' Trev laughed.

  He was teasing him, Ted knew. Trev's sense of humour and fun was just one of the things Ted loved about him. Somehow, feeling tired and a bit preoccupied, the comment worried him more than it should have done. Certainly more than it was meant to.

  'I am sorry. We are all right, aren't we?'

  'Of course we are, you muppet. Why wouldn't we be? I know what your job's like, after all this time. Just promise me you really will try to get back on time to eat with Shewee and her boyfriend on Friday. I need your policeman's intuition to know whether or not I can trust him with my kid sister.'

  'There's something rather interesting about the pattern of wounds,' Bizzie Nelson told Ted next morning at the post-mortem examination on Stephanie Mason, their latest murder victim. 'Do you notice anything?'

  Reluctantly, Ted leaned closer, studying the damaged skull, sucking hard on his customary menthol lozenge.

  'They look rather more precise than I would have expected for what we first took to be a frenzied attack.'

  'Precisely!' The Professor laughed at her own joke. 'Let me go through it in more detail for you. This blow to the back of the head, almost central, and delivered with considerable force, would most probably have been enough to kill her, though possibly not immediately. It was made from behind and would undoubtedly have felled the victim. But then, and I know you don't like conjecture any more than I do, the pattern of the other blows seems to me to be almost experimental.'

  Ted looked at her quizzically, not quite grasping what she was getting at.

  'From the precision with which the blows were placed, it's as if our killer were experimenting with what damage each subsequent blow would inflict. The back of the head – smash! Like a boiled egg, hit with a spoon. Very satisfying. Then what about the temple? Thwack! That splits open quite nicely. The crown of the head? The skull is a little harder there, not quite so good.