by Bill Kitson
Nash shrugged. ‘Never mind that, we can work out why, and what they were up to, later. Get Lisa to take them both up to the General and meet his mother there. They’re likely to be in shock and need checking over after what they’ve seen. Mexican Pete recommended it. I reckon it would be best for Lisa to be kept busy. There’s bound to be a reaction, but if we can defer it, the outcome might be less traumatic.’
It was another two hours before Ramirez and his team left. Ramirez told Nash and Pearce, ‘We’ll be back first thing. I’ll keep you posted as to when the PMs will be. Unfortunately, regulations still require an officer to be present during the process, but I’ll leave it to you to decide who should have that unpleasant duty. It might be sensible not to place the onus on one person, though.’
There was still no sign of anyone from the Harland Estate when the pathologist left, and Nash was becoming irritated by the delay. Five minutes later, Nash and Pearce saw the approaching headlights of a vehicle travelling quickly, either governed by familiarity with the country lane or by the urgency of the situation, or possibly both. Moments later, a Land Rover Discovery pulled up alongside Nash’s car and a man emerged, heading directly towards the waiting detectives. As he walked across to them, Nash noticed that he was carrying a folder, and guessed his identity even before he spoke.
‘Inspector Nash?’ the newcomer enquired. ‘I’m Louis Craven. I’m the estate manager. Sorry it’s taken me so long to get here. I was out and have only just picked up the message and rang the station. Your officer told me something about what happened here. What exactly went on?’
‘I can’t tell you much, but suffice it to say that human remains have been found inside the cottage.’
‘That’s absolutely appalling. What can I do to help?’
‘I need details of anyone who had a key to the property. That includes estate employees, present or former tenants, plus any tradesmen who have worked inside the building.’
‘That’s simple enough. There is one key that remains permanently locked in a safe in my office. That key only leaves there when work is required to be carried out on the interior. Before I came here, I checked my records, and the last time that happened was over eighteen months ago. Work was planned to start on refurbishment next month, but that’s been cancelled. The only other key is that used by the renters, usually only for one or two weeks at a time. Although I suppose someone could have had a spare cut,’ he added.
He opened his folder and produced a sheet of paper. ‘That’s a list of the holidaymakers who rented the cottage during the course of last summer, but they all returned the key. At present, that key is in the possession of the current occupant.’
‘There is someone renting the cottage at present?’ Nash glanced at Pearce. ‘The place looks unoccupied.’
‘There certainly is; name of Barton, Donny Barton. He’s an artist by profession. We check our tenants out beforehand to establish that they are bona fide. He rented the cottage from last October, took a long lease. His tenancy is due to terminate at the end of this month.’ Craven delved into the folder again and took out a couple of sheets of paper. He handed these to Nash, ‘Those are Mr Barton’s details, including his home address in London, plus a copy of the tenancy agreement.’
Nash examined the papers, with Pearce looking over his shoulder as he held a torch for them to read by. ‘Thank you, Mr Craven,’ Nash told the manager. ‘There is one other question I have to ask you, but perhaps it would be easier when you’ve had chance to consult your diary. There are certain relevant dates on which I need to know your whereabouts.’ He saw Craven’s horrified expression and explained, ‘These are purely for elimination purposes, as you hold one of the only two keys to the cottage.’
‘When are you thinking of?’ Craven’s harassed look hadn’t diminished, despite Nash’s reassurance.
‘There are several, all within the past seven months. Going from memory, one is during February or early March, another sometime in January. The rest I’m unsure of without my file.’
‘It depends when exactly in February and March you’re talking about,’ Craven replied. If he looked more relaxed, it was barely noticeable as he continued, ‘I was on holiday in Barbados sometime around then. If you let me have those dates and any others, I’ll check my diary for them as well.’
Nash thanked the estate manager, and before he left, told him, ‘The cottage will remain a crime scene for the foreseeable future, so if you have any tenancies lined up, it might be advisable to suggest that the potential lessees find alternative accommodation. Not that anyone will want to stay here for some while, I guess, given the publicity that’s sure to surround the place.’
‘Fortunately, we haven’t arranged for any early season lettings. As I explained, work was planned. What should we do about securing the property?’
‘Uniformed officers will remain at the premises for several days. Although our forensics team have conducted a preliminary search of the property, they will be carrying out more in-depth investigations, and during that time the cottage will remain a no-go area. It might be as well to let them have your key, and we can ensure it is locked up until such time as we release it to you and you can arrange for cleaners to come in, followed by decorators. You might also want to ensure pest control inspectors are on hand to deal with the extensive rodent and insect population.’
Craven’s expression reflected the horror of what he had just learned. As Nash and Pearce watched him climb into his vehicle and drive away, Pearce murmured, ‘There goes an unhappy man. I guess he’s planning how best to tell his employer about what’s gone on here. Still, the Barbados alibi would seem to discount him, which only leaves us with Donny Barton.’
‘I’m not taking anything for granted,’ Nash replied. ‘It’s interesting that the vehicle Mr Craven drives is similar to the one on that CCTV image, so I definitely don’t think we should rule him out just yet. Overall, though, you’re probably right. Barton seems to be our prime suspect, so we need to find out all we can about him.’
Chapter Eighteen
It was almost dawn by the time Nash pulled up outside Helmsdale Police Station. He wasn’t in the slightest bit surprised to see all the station’s lights on; nor was he taken aback when he noticed the chief constable’s car alongside the building. O’Donnell was in the reception area talking to Sergeant Binns when Nash entered. They both looked at Nash, concern in their eyes.
‘It’s about as bad as you can imagine, and then a whole lot more,’ he told them, in answer to the chief’s enquiry. ‘So much so, that I ordered the youngsters who made the discovery to be taken to hospital. Professor Ramirez advised it. He also stated that the two traffic officers who responded to the call should be referred to the police welfare medic. It’s precautionary, but he suggests they will all need counselling. I sent Lisa Andrews with the teenagers and said she should also arrange to speak to someone.’
‘What about you, Mike? You must have seen as much as the others, more so, probably.’
‘I have two advantages; first and foremost, I’ve seen far more of that kind of thing. Although, I have to admit, rarely as bad as this one. And, thanks to Jack here, I was forewarned what to expect. My only concern is getting this bastard locked up and out of harm’s way before any other women are attacked. By what I saw at the cottage, this guy is a total psychopath. I think we’ll find he’s UTP,’ he added, shaking his head.
‘Unfit to plead? We’ll let the lawyers and doctors fight over that. We’ve got to find him first,’ the chief replied.
‘It would help enormously if he’s on our system, but I suppose that’s too much to hope for, especially as, thus far, Forensics have only come up with a partial print, which they’re not confident will be sufficient to identify anyone. However, they’ve the rest of the house to go at yet. By the sound of it, there seems to be one outstanding suspect.’
Nash explained about the missing tenant, Donny Barton. He’d just finished speaking when Pearce walked in.
‘Good morning, ma’am,’ he greeted the chief, before turning to Nash. ‘It’s a good job the traffic guys were otherwise engaged, otherwise you might have collected a ticket.’
‘I was in a hurry,’ Nash said briefly, almost curtly. He didn’t notice O’Donnell look sharply at him, but told Pearce, ‘Get on the computer and find out all you can about Donny Barton: age, address, occupation, what car he drives, relatives, the works. I know Craven told us Barton was an artist, but that might have simply been a front.’
Pearce looked taken aback at Nash’s response. ‘Yes, boss.’
O’Donnell waited until Pearce had gone up to CID then told Binns, ‘I could murder a coffee, Jack. Would you make me one, please?’
No sooner had Binns departed when the chief constable rounded on Nash. ‘Are you lying, Mike? Did this affect you more than you’re prepared to admit? Because your attitude to Viv, just now, was most unlike you.’
Nash shook his head, puzzled by her question. ‘No, it’s not that, ma’am; put it down to sleep deficiency. I know the cure, though. As soon as this is over and done with, and after Daniel’s back at school, I’d like some time off. There’s something I need to sort out.’
He didn’t offer an explanation, and before O’Donnell could ask what he was referring to, they were interrupted by Binns, who returned bearing two coffee mugs. No sooner had he handed them their drinks than the phone rang. He listened for a long time, during which they could tell more than one person was speaking, then said, ‘OK, I’ll tell him — and the chief constable.’
Eventually, he put the receiver down. ‘That was Alan Marshall, Lisa’s partner; well, it was until she took over the conversation. Apparently she spent most of the night at the hospital comforting the teenagers who found the bodies and attempting to reassure their parents. When she told Alan everything about where and why, he insisted she stay home and rest. She was in bed when he rang. That was until she heard him on the phone and took it from him. She’s coming in, because as she put it, “Mike and Viv need all the help they can get at the minute. My personal feelings can be put on hold. Above all, we have to get this psycho behind bars. No woman is safe, whether she’s a prostitute, housewife, or police officer”. Then she handed the phone back to Alan. He said you might have the courage to argue with her, but he doesn’t.’
‘What about the teenagers who found the bodies?’ O’Donnell asked.
‘According to what she just told me, it took two hours before the girl’s parents arrived. Control passed word to the Arena and they put a call out for them. Security explained to them why they were needed. The boy’s mother was already there and Lisa had been able to contact her straightaway. She was working on the night shift in A and E, but she still got a hell of a shock when her son was brought in and when she saw the state of him and the girl.’
‘What were they doing breaking into that place? They surely didn’t think there was anything worth stealing?’ the chief asked.
Nash smiled. ‘No, apparently, they needed a secluded spot for an evening of passion.’
Binns nodded. ‘The irony is, from what Lisa just told me, after she spoke to both sets of parents, it doesn’t seem as if they’d have been overly concerned if the pair had been doing it at home. They are both of age. From what the girl’s mother told Lisa, they’d already guessed that it was only a matter of time before the youngsters became intimate. They were less concerned than would otherwise have been the case, because the two had been friends for such a long time that they knew it would be much more than a casual fling. The girl’s mother said she was much happier thinking that when Milly became involved with someone it was with a nice lad like Lee, rather than some tearaway who might be into booze or drugs. The boy’s mother said much the same about Milly.’
‘Lucky for us the kids weren’t aware of that,’ Nash pointed out. ‘That holiday cottage doesn’t have a booking for when Barton’s lease is up. Without an inspection, if it stayed empty until June, say, the killer could have filled every room in the house with body parts.’
‘Right,’ O’Donnell told them, ‘I’m going to leave you to get on with things. As Superintendent Fleming has swanned off on this conference lark, keep me up-dated on any developments. I’m ordering Jackie to come back early.’ She glanced at the clock and frowned. ‘However, I’ll leave that until a less antisocial hour. I suggest you speak to Lisa Andrews when she gets here, make sure she’s OK,’ O’Donnell added. ‘And if you’re not one hundred per cent happy, pack her off home, understand?’
She headed for the door, without so much as a farewell, leaving the two men staring at each other.
* * *
The morning was spent checking computer records regarding the missing tenant of Track End Cottage, Donny Barton, who was now their only suspect. Their searches resulted in a quick briefing Nash held over the phone with the chief constable. After confirming that Barton was still their sole person of interest, Nash said, ‘Despite the evidence so far, there are some anomalies that I’m not happy about. A couple of these arise from what we discovered at the crime scene, another from the results of our computer inquiries.’
‘OK, Mike, tell me what you know about this man so far and your concerns.’
‘Barton is a reasonably well-known landscape artist. Certainly not a Constable or Gauguin, but quite popular, judging by the prices his work fetch.’
O’Donnell was aware that Nash was reasonably well versed in the artistic field, but knowing that this was a touchy subject, still remarked, ‘Well you would know.’
Nash was momentarily taken aback at her comment, but continued, ‘Barton specializes in landscapes set on the continent, and in particular, around the Mediterranean, mostly depicting village life. That does raise the question as to what he was doing in North Yorkshire, I suppose. However, it also makes me wonder that if he is the killer, why someone with a seemingly good level of intelligence should fail to cover his tracks so completely.’
‘You’re going to have to explain that, Mike.’
‘What I mean is that if he was intending to use the cottage as a slaughterhouse, why did he use his own name and personal details instead of assuming an alias?’
‘It could well be that he took the tenancy with no intention of committing murder, but somewhere along the line he could have suffered some form of traumatic incident. I believe they call it a psychotic break. What else have you discovered?’
At that moment Pearce entered Nash’s office, waving a piece of paper at him. ‘Mike, Mike.’
‘Excuse me a moment, ma’am, Viv seems to have found something.’ He covered the mouthpiece. ‘What have you got?’
‘Barton has an agent, I’ve just spoken to him. Barton told everyone he was going to Cornwall.’
Nash returned to his conversation with the chief and explained what Viv had said. ‘I think that adds more to our suspicions. We have his permanent address. It’s an apartment block in West London, so it might be an idea to ask our colleagues in the Met to do a home visit. If, as we suspect, Barton isn’t there, they should be able to gain entry with the cooperation of the landlord, but that will probably require a search warrant. If they do that, I’d like them to take a forensic officer along. It would be extremely helpful to have a set of Barton’s fingerprints.’
‘What you’re really saying is that you want me to set this up.’
‘It would certainly carry more weight coming from you, ma’am, and thanks for offering.’
Nash grinned as he heard the chief constable mutter what sounded like, ‘smooth-talking devil’. But more clearly, she responded, ‘You mentioned concerns, which I assume means that the use of Barton’s own name isn’t the only one.’
‘Certainly not, ma’am, there are two other matters I find puzzling. One of them is the shortage in the body count.’
He heard O’Donnell spluttering before she said, ‘Shortage? What do you mean, “shortage”? Isn’t four corpses enough for you? Is Ramirez right about your Dracul
a complex?’
‘Not if, as I suspect, the victims turn out to be the missing prostitutes from this region. We have five extant MISPER cases — so where is the fifth body?’
‘I don’t think that’s necessarily anything to be alarmed about. Quite obviously, the fifth victim was murdered and her body dumped elsewhere — if indeed there is a fifth victim and she hasn’t simply done a runner, moved to another area, or become victim to some other crime.’
‘Any of those could be true,’ Nash conceded. ‘But I have one more overriding concern, and that is the matter of transport. I can’t understand how Barton achieved it — if he actually is the murderer. I’m speaking of the abductions and the bringing of the victims to that remote location and if he did dispose of one elsewhere, how did he do it?’
‘I don’t follow you. Explain it in simple terms.’
There was a testy edge to the chief constable’s voice which showed she didn’t share Nash’s concerns. ‘According to what Pearce found from his computer research with DVLA, Donny Barton doesn’t own a motor vehicle of any type; never has done, and doesn’t even possess a driving licence.’
‘Inspector Nash, if this man is happily going around abducting women, slaughtering them and cutting them up into little pieces, I certainly don’t think stealing a car or driving without a licence is going to hold any terror for him.’
‘Again, I go back to his supposed intelligence. Nobody in their right mind is going to ride around the countryside in a stolen vehicle without a driving licence, with a woman’s body and a bloodstained chainsaw in the boot.’
‘I absolutely disagree. We’ve already had ample evidence that this character is definitely not in their right mind, so I think those reservations you hold are totally spurious. Just to put you fully in the picture, I’m waiting for Superintendent Fleming to return today. She’s left the conference and should be back soon. I intend to discuss this case with her, your reservations included, and if she’s of the same opinion as me, I think we should get hold of a photo of Barton as soon as possible. Obviously not from his driving licence, as he doesn’t have one, but if he’s been roaming the continent painting, he must hold a current passport. Then I intend to hold a press conference to go public, announcing him as our prime suspect. I’m planning that media event tomorrow, and I want you to attend.’