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

by L M Krier

  'Sergeant, I think it just might be,' Ted said, looking closely at dark stains on the white rock. 'It's clearly had some protection from the elements, thankfully, so we may just get identifiable traces from it. I can't thank you enough. Or Tally. Would he let me stroke him?'

  Maurice, who had known the boss long enough to know his fear of dogs, looked surprised.

  'He'd let anyone stroke him, sir, he's a right softy. And if you throw his ball for him, you'd be his friend for life.'

  He whistled his dog and it shot eagerly back to his side, sitting looking hopeful, dropping the ball from its jaws when ordered to. Ted held out a still hesitant hand and an eager pink tongue licked at it, the power of the tail wagging moving the dog's entire rear end as it hovered, rather than sat, full of expectation. Ted picked up the ball and got ready to throw it.

  'Thank you, Tally, you've really helped me. Good boy.'

  'Wow, boss, you touched a dog,' Maurice chuckled as they walked back to the car.

  'After a breakthrough like that, Maurice, I nearly kissed him. Let's just hope it's a day when all the cards are finally stacked in our favour. Next stop, the flat in Bramhall, please. I want to see how Rob's getting on.'

  Rob and his team were looking despondent when Ted and Maurice arrived for an update.

  'Nothing, boss. We've turned the place inside out but we've not found anything of any use. We've got that dragon picture you asked about and I see what you mean about that. I wouldn't like that leering down at me from my bedroom wall, for sure. But apart from that, nothing.'

  Ted wandered about the flat, poking and prodding into corners, although he knew Rob would have done a good job. He'd just been so sure that they would have found something. He was convinced Morgane had a cache somewhere, possibly with a second phone and more of her drawings. They hadn't found it at either of her parents' homes, so they would have to look elsewhere. But where?

  He stood in the small sun lounge, looking out into the garden. The early promise of sunshine had now given way to a light rain once more. Ted was remembering the great night he'd spent with Trev in the tent in their own garden. It hadn't taken much to put things right between them. Just a bit of time and imagination.

  'And the shed?'

  There was an awkward pause and Rob's face fell visibly.

  'Shit, boss. It never occurred to me. I didn't realise it belonged to this flat.'

  'It might not, but you should have checked,' Ted said mildly. 'Never mind. It was just inexperience. You won't make the same mistake again. I've done worse, believe me. Shall we go?'

  Ted and Maurice were pulling on blue gloves as they walked down the damp lawn to the green wooden shed. The door was padlocked. Ted indicated to one of the uniformed constables with them to spring the lock. As the door swung open, Ted went in first and looked around.

  It was a neat and tidy space, gardening tools carefully cleaned and put away. DIY tools lined the shelves down one side, plastic milk bottles converted to hold nails, screws, staples. There was a pair of green Wellington boots, a man's large size and, next to them, dwarfed in comparison, a pair of small, stained, white trainers.

  'So, Morgane, you didn't throw them away, after all,' Ted said, half to himself.

  Rob was also inside the shed, carefully looking through the items on the shelf. He picked something up and handed it to Ted.

  'Boss.'

  Ted took the tartan purse he was holding out to him. He snapped open the fold-over flap and looked at the card inside the clear plastic front pocket.

  'A bus pass, in the name of Mrs Joan Murray. Very interesting. Let's see what Morgane has to say to this.'

  Rob followed the boss out of the house as they were leaving. Even Maurice could do tactful when he saw the need so he strode on ahead, making some excuse about starting the car and getting the heater going so they could dry their feet from the damp grass.

  'Boss, I'm really sorry about that...'

  'Seriously, Rob, there's no need. Once this case is wrapped up, you and I will have a quiet half hour in The Grapes. You can buy me a Gunner and I'll tell you some of the things I did as a new DS. Then you'll understand when I say don't sweat it. Learn from it and move on. Wrap things up here, and we'll see you back at the nick. It's been a good day for discoveries. Let's hope we're on a roll now.'

  Ted knew he was likely to be in for a long day. After the briefing, he and Jim would need to get together with the Ice Queen and put her in the picture. They'd have to decide at what point they needed to show their hand and think of bringing Morgane in for questioning under caution. They certainly needed to liaise with CPS early on, with such a potentially difficult case to bring.

  As Maurice drove them back to the station, Ted sent a text to Trev, warning him that he might be late and telling him to eat when he was hungry. There were still plenty of sausages left. Ted had bought enough for an army.

  'Don't mind how late you are if we can sleep in the tent again. I'm sure another cat needs worming. Txx'

  Ted hid a smile but it was not lost on Maurice.

  'Is everything all right at home, boss? Only, I couldn't help but notice the hand ...'

  Ted knew he wasn't prying, just genuinely concerned.

  'Absolutely fine, thanks, Maurice. I just did a daft thing. Nothing to worry about.'

  'If ever you need someone to talk to, Ted, away from work, you know you can trust me.'

  Maurice was the team member who'd known the boss the longest so he slipped sometimes into first-name terms. He was also the one who'd seen him nearly lose it on one occasion, and seen him at possibly his lowest ebb.

  'I know that, Maurice, and I appreciate it, thank you.'

  'Boss, we need another search warrant,' Jezza said at the end-of-day briefing, as soon as Ted had updated the team on progress so far. 'Morgane has a locker at school. They wouldn't give me access to it, without a warrant. We need to know what she's stashed there, and as soon as possible, in case she tries to go after it herself. And according to the school, she's a real loner, no proper friends, seemingly no interest in making any. Loves her art, shines at it, other than that, an average pupil.'

  Ted had arranged for Morgane and her father to spend the night at a local hotel. He didn't want her knowing too soon that they'd found the purse and her trainers. Those had gone straight off to the lab for testing, with instructions that they were top priority. The hotel was under observation. There was no way Morgane or her father could leave without being seen, but it had freed Kate up to come in and report.

  'Mr Edwards is now spitting tacks, boss. He's beyond incandescent. He's spent most of the day on the phone to his solicitor and as you suspected, he's using his ex-wife's law firm. Morgane, on the other hand, seems to be perfectly calm, just sits there sketching all the time, as if none of this concerns her.'

  'That's why I want to get a psych evaluation of her early on. Her behaviour seems very bizarre to me. I need to make sure we can go ahead and interview her under caution. I don't want her entire testimony ruled as inadmissible if the other side's psych says she's suffering from post traumatic stress, or something.

  'Jo, what news from the granny?'

  Jo reached down and produced a carrier bag from by his feet. He carefully lifted out something in an evidence bag and held it up for all to see.

  'Meet Gordon, the mooning garden gnome. We lifted it from the garden, with Mrs Edwards' permission. She said it was a birthday present from Morgane, about four years ago, she thinks. She's never liked it. She finds it a bit rude, but she kept it on display to please Morgane because she'd spent her pocket money on it. Or so she said. Although I think we could take a guess about where Gordon may really have come from.'

  The ceramic gnome had its trousers pulled down to expose naked buttocks and was leering over its shoulder at anyone who approached it.

  Jim Baker was shaking his head in disbelief.

  'So you're saying that this young lass, what age is she, sixteen? That she's killed three people, incl
uding her own mother? And the arson case was four years ago, when she would have been, what, about twelve?'

  'I think she's killed five, boss. Luke Martin's violin bridge was found in her house. And I wouldn't mind betting that, once forensics have finished with her trainers, we can put her at the scene of Tyler Bradbury's murder, too. You can see now why I want that psych evaluation, and soon. I think we're possibly looking at a psychopath the likes of whom I've not seen before. And if I'm right, don't forget, that also means she's our animal torturer, too.'

  'This is almost beyond belief,' the Ice Queen said, with the suggestion of a shudder. 'Hopefully it's only once in a lifetime we come across something like this. Between us, we must have more than sixty years of service and it's a first for me. We absolutely cannot afford to make any errors.'

  'That's why I want the psych evaluation as soon as possible. And why we need to gear up to oppose bail when we finally do charge her.'

  'I can definitely arrange the evaluation. But we're going to need the father's consent, unless we charge her first. And have we yet got enough to do that with any certainty?'

  She and Jim were drinking coffee. Ted had refused and instead opted for water. He'd had far more caffeine in the last couple of days than he liked.

  'I'm only guessing but I think he'll consent, and his legal team will back him. I think they'll do it expecting it will rebound on us, show that we're going after a poor young girl in shock after losing her mother. But I think a psych assessment will show an entirely different side to our Morgane.

  'I also want to search her school locker first thing. If she's hiding anything, that might well be the place. There may be a second phone, and we need that.'

  'If Debs can sort out the shrink, I'll sort the warrant for you. I'm sure you've got more than enough on your plate without that.'

  'I'll need to get a team out in Shadwell Drive asking if there are still any neighbours from the date of the arson who might remember Gordon the gnome. It's tentative, and I doubt we can prove anything, but it's worth a try.'

  'When are you going to talk to the girl again?'

  'After we've looked in her locker. I want all the ammunition we can find before I start. But I don't want to do anything with her before that psych evaluation.'

  Things were starting to move quickly. Ted had his warrant to search at the school by mid-morning the next day. He and Jezza went there together and were once again shown in to see the headteacher.

  'Mr Mitchell, we have a warrant here to search Morgane Edwards' locker, and also anywhere else she might keep personal possessions.'

  Ted handed the document over and the head studied it in detail, as if checking its authenticity. He was clearly not used to the police turning up at his establishment wanting to search through pupils' personal possessions.

  'I would also very much like, if it's at all possible, to talk to her art teacher. A Miss Lake, I believe?'

  'I'll arrange that for you. May I ask what this is about? I thought Morgane was a victim in this case?'

  'I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to discuss it with you. If we could just see her locker, please? And is there anywhere else she might keep her things, on the school premises?'

  'No, nowhere that I'm aware of. I'll take you to the lockers myself. I'll get my secretary to arrange for Miss Lake to be available as soon as possible.'

  He was clearly keen to hang around while Ted and Jezza carried out the search. Ted firmly but politely asked him to leave them to it. He promised they would come and find him as soon as they had finished.

  Jezza had brought evidence bags and a holdall, in case they found anything of interest.

  'Bingo,' she said as her groping hand found something at the back of the top shelf inside. She withdrew a gloved hand, holding up a pink mobile phone. 'Now it'll be interesting to see what Océane can find on this one. I'm betting it won't be quite as sweet and innocent as the one which was left conveniently for us to find at the murder scene.'

  The locker also yielded up several sketch pads. A quick flick through them showed their content to be rather different to those they had already seen.

  'Can you get that phone to the lab for fingerprinting as a matter of urgency, Jezza, please? And tell them I want it done and passed on to Océane yesterday, if not sooner. Take the car and get this art stuff back to the station. We'll need to go through it all. I'll hop on a bus when I'm done here.'

  The Head's secretary showed Ted to the art room where Miss Lake was waiting for him. She didn't currently have a class so the room was free for them to talk in.

  'Thank you for making time to see me, Miss Lake,' Ted began, showing her his warrant card. 'You'll know, of course, that Morgane's mother was killed last week. I'm the Senior Investigating Officer in that case and as part of my enquiries, I'm trying to build up more of a picture of Morgane, if you'll excuse the pun. I understand she's a talented art student.'

  The woman was mid-thirties, studiously Bohemian hippy styling, with a distinct whiff of patchouli. She had a myopic-looking way of peering intently when she was spoken to.

  'Very talented, a very unusual style. She's produced some quite striking and sometimes disturbing pieces. Have you seen her Metamorphosis?'

  Ted nodded.

  'I have to confess I wouldn't want to look at it too often. It would give me nightmares. Do you have any more of her work here, in the classroom?'

  'Oh yes, one or two of her pieces are on display as they're really very good. She draws portraits quite brilliantly,' she was indicating one on the wall behind her, an unmistakable likeness of herself. 'She also loves to work experimentally with other media, like the snake skin.'

  She led the way across the room towards something hanging on the wall. To Ted, it looked like an angry mix of blood reds and black which didn't immediately mean anything to him.

  'Here she's used some faux fur she found on the market, together with some items she found lying about. It symbolises chaos. Quite disturbing, don't you think?'

  Ted was looking closely at the black fur. He took out his reading glasses, put them on and studied the work more closely.

  'And what do you think this is here? These silvery-grey slivers of something?'

  'Ah yes, very intricate work, there, painstakingly done. She shaved slivers off pigeon feathers she'd found while walking in the park, she told me.'

  'Miss Lake, those are not from feathers. They're cat claws, or parts of them. And this isn't faux fur. It's real animal fur. If I'm not mistaken, that is also from a cat. I won't know until we've tested it, but I'd take an educated guess that the red is animal blood.'

  He put his glasses away and took out the warrant. The woman was now looking decidedly queasy.

  'I'm going to need to take this away with me, for detailed examination. I wonder if you'd be kind enough to find me something to wrap and carry it in?'

  She was so eager to find him something that it was obvious she couldn't wait to get the now offending item off the wall. Ted strongly suspected that as soon as he left, the art teacher might be about to lose her breakfast.

  Chapter Thirty

  Virgil was back with the team, after his paternity leave. Ted couldn't believe how quickly the last two weeks had flown by. He caught him yawning widely at his desk, trying to catch up with the current cases.

  'Sorry, boss,' he said guiltily. 'I optimistically hoped all the horror stories I'd heard about sleep deprivation with a new-born were exaggerated. I think they're actually understated.'

  'How is little Daisy?'

  'Completely gorgeous, of course, but she definitely has the lung-power of a potential opera singer.'

  Ted headed for his office and the kettle. He'd got off the bus a stop early so he could pick up a sandwich on his way in. It looked like being another long day. Jim was at their shared desk but refused the offer of a drink. The kettle was still hot from the one he'd recently made himself.

  Ted had the wrapped collage, done by Morgane, under his arm. He put it d
own carefully while he made his drink then sat down.

  'Another exhibit?'

  'Something I collected at the school, along with the sketch books which Jezza brought back. Have you eaten, or are you just about to? You might not be so keen to after I show you this one and tell you what it is.'

  He put gloves on before he stood the canvas upright and carefully unwrapped it.

  'I give you Chaos, by Morgane Edwards. I want to show this to the shrink when I talk to him. Any news on that front?'

  'He was seeing her this morning, but I don't know if he's done that yet. He promised to come in and find us once he'd finished. So, what am I looking at here? It just looks like a bloody mess to me, but I'm not remotely artistic. Bella despairs of me. She likes going to art galleries and stuff like that. I'd rather eat my own eyeballs.

  'Oh, and before I forget, Doug's been trying to get hold of you for the last half hour. He says he has some results for you.'

  'I'll call him in a minute, then. And what you're looking at here is precisely that – a bloody mess. I'll need Doug to confirm it for me, after I've shown it to the psych, but unless I'm much mistaken, this is cat fur, and I do have six of them, and these, down here, are cat claws. So I'm guessing that the red is cat's blood, or possibly from another animal.'

  Jim looked at him in horror.'

  'Christ, Ted! So you're saying this young lass skinned that cat alive and pulled its claws out to make a painting?'

  'I think you call it a collage,' Ted said dryly. 'You should go to those galleries with Bella. You could learn a thing or two.'

  'Piss off, Ted,' Jim growled, but his tone was good-natured. They were old friends, both away from the office and at work.

  Ted grinned at him as he got his phone out to call Doug. Sometimes it was a bit of banter between friends which provided the antidote to the dark side of human nature which confronted them almost daily.

  'Doug. Make my day and tell me you have good news for me.'

  'I have good news for you, boss,' he responded dutifully. 'Morgane's prints identified on the python's tank, so you have her there. Yes, semen can, and is, regularly frozen, for things like artificial insemination, without it degrading, although it's not usually done in a home freezer, so I need to investigate further and see if there's any way we can show that. And finally, because I know you're up against it on this one, I'm going to surprise you with another best guess.