by Tim Ellis
‘Yeah,’ Ali said. ‘I can see what she means.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘This is all very interesting, but I’m sure you’ve all got work to do.’ They moved back to their desks. The place was a pigsty again. ‘And clean this shit hole up.’
I turned to KP, but she jumped in first.
‘How did the counselling go, Sir?’
I sneered. ‘As if you care, Judas.’
Her bottom lip trembled. I thought she was going to cry. ‘You know I care, that’s why I told the Chief.’
‘It was bloody awful.’
‘Have you got to go back?’
‘No. I’m cured.’
Her eyes widened, and the corner of one side of her mouth moved slightly upwards. I knew she didn’t believe me.
‘Ask Miss Palton to come to my office,’ I said.
Her forehead creased. ‘Are you sure you want to do that, Sir?’
‘Just do it,’ I hissed. ‘And stop questioning everything I say.’
‘She’s just there,’ she said waving her hand in Suzie’s general direction. ‘You could ask her yourself.’
I was already half-way to the door. I didn’t turn round.
‘I’ll ask her then, should I, Sir?’ she called after me. She was never afraid to tell me when I was in the wrong.
Chapter Seven
‘Miss Palton,’ I began. She stood in front of my desk with her arms crossed looking at the easy chairs to one side. Her perfume overwhelmed me. She must have sprayed some on before she came in. I wondered why she had done that. ‘I’m fully aware that you are here to assist us. I’m grateful.’ I tried not to sound grateful. ‘I don’t know how they do things at GCHQ, but…’
She uncrossed her arms and leaned forward slightly. ‘Sir, I…’
‘Don’t interrupt me, Miss Palton.’ I interlocked my fingers. She crossed her arms again and sighed. ‘Whilst you’re here, you come under my rules. That means you arrive at eight-thirty and go home when we all go home. Not when you feel like it.’
Her green eyes bored into mine. I noticed a slight trembling of her arms and shoulders.
‘Whilst you soak in your Jacuzzi at the five-star Jumeirah Carlton, there’s a killer out there dismembering women. Your only priority whilst you’re working for me is to solve those clues, shopping comes way down the list. If you have to work twenty-four hours a day for a week without sleep to do that, then that’s what I want. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, Sir, but…’
I could see the tightness of her jaw line. There was no eye contact. She glanced around the room as if she had lost interest in what I was saying.
‘Unless it’s to tell me you’ve solved the messages, I’m not interested. You can leave now.’
She didn’t say another word. Turned, opened the door and left.
***
‘Dr. Andrews tells me you were uncooperative, James.’
I was in the Chief’s office. I had been summoned. It was two-thirty.
I smirked. ‘I’d rather call it passive resistance.’
‘Unfortunately for you, you’re not Ghandi, and I’m not the British Government. Co-operate or book your holidays.’
She wasn’t giving an inch. ‘I will. It’s hard. It’s like being stripped in public.’
‘I’ll take your word for that, James. Either way, you’ll subject yourself to Dr Andrews’ ministrations.’
‘She’s not exactly your average therapist.’
‘Doctor Andrews comes highly recommended. Now, give me an update on the case.’
‘I’ve sent Peacock and Powys to pick up a Mr Pieter Meintjes for questioning. He’s a South African who went to Johannesburg shortly after the Irene Stone murder, and arrived back in the UK before Gillian Wilkinson was murdered. We’re also checking whether the Johannesburg police have anything on him.’
‘Sounds promising,’ she said. ‘The South African link seems to be panning out.’
I screwed up my eyes and shook my head slowly. ‘I’m still not sure whether they are muti killings or something else entirely.’
‘Why don’t you like the cryptographer GCHQ have sent us?’
It was like being hit with a cricket bat from behind. ‘I… what makes you ask, Chief?’
‘I’ve just had Sir Edwin Fabian call me. He’s head of the cross-party committee that oversee the security services, of which GCHQ is a big part.’
‘Oh!’ There wasn’t much more to say. I knew what was coming.
‘He tells me that Miss Palton rang her boss. He rang his boss. It shot up the hierarchy to Sir Edwin like an Exocet missile, and he rang me. It wasn’t pleasant, James. She has complained that you’re making her life a misery. Well?’
I wished I’d listened to KP. ‘She’s got a chip on her shoulder, and a bad attitude. I don’t like her. I told her how we do things round here, that’s all.’
‘Whether you like her or not, is irrelevant. From now on, you’re to keep Miss Palton happy. I want her to leave here singing your praises. She’s here to help us – you, for goodness sake. We thrive on inter-agency co-operation. Abusing a member of another agency is hardly a good strategy for promotion.’
‘Abuse is a bit strong, Chief,’ I said. ‘I would hardly call a dressing down abuse.’
‘Let’s not haggle over semantics, James. I suggest you focus on catching this killer and leave your likes and dislikes at home. More coffee?’
I nodded, handing her my cup.
‘Is Miss Palton proving useful?’
‘She thinks she’ll have the Stone message solved by tea time.’
‘Then I don’t see what your problem is.’
‘No,’ I said. I wasn’t going to get drawn in. Avril had made her position clear. I knew to stop digging when I was in a hole.
‘Tell me what else is happening.’
‘It may be a coincidence, but Irene Stone’s father was a partner at Darwins before he retired. Padgett’s looking at the people who were connected to Mr Stone when he was there.’
‘It all seems to be revolving around Darwins at the moment.’
‘Yes, apart from Miss Renshall’s murder, I don’t see a connection there. I’ve got Keogh looking into her background to see if there is one. Also, Powys has identified a possible suspect from the CCTV footage on an adjacent road to Gillian Wilkinson’s flat. Could be nothing, but he’s taken the tapes down to forensics to see if they can enhance the face, it’s merely shadow at the moment.’
‘Press?’
‘I’ve got another briefing scheduled for six o’clock this evening.’
‘I suppose we can’t hide it any longer?’
‘The wolves are already howling at the door, I’m afraid.’
‘No details though?’
‘No,’ I agreed, ‘just the basics.’
‘When is your next appointment?’
I threw my head back and put my hands up to my ears. My face contorted into a mask of agony in an attempt at a living replication of Edvard Munch’s painting The Scream. ‘Monday at ten,’ I said.
‘I’m sure you’ll come out of it a better man, James.’
‘If you say so, Chief,’ I said without conviction.
***
Standing in the dimly lit observation room in the basement I peered through the one-way glass. KP and Ali flanked me. The grey-haired man sat in the bleak interview room. PC Sykes stood by the steel door beneath the silver clock which displayed three twenty-five.
‘He’s not the killer is he, Sir,’ KP said.
Pieter Meintjes was a small, squat man with dark skin. He sat leaning back in the chair with his legs crossed. His hair was short, and he wore a dark grey suit, white shirt and red tie.
‘No,’ I said. He didn’t fit either the voice profile rendered by forensics, or my psychological profile. I turned to Ali. ‘What do the Johannesburg police say about him?’
She held up a fax, turning it towards the light from the glass. ‘Has solicitor’s offices in the centre
of Johannesburg. He deals mainly with land issues throughout South Africa. Wife’s dead. He’s retired with two sons. The eldest, Bors, now runs the business as senior partner. No convictions of any kind, not even a parking ticket.’ She looked up from the paper. ‘Not really the profile of a serial killer.’
‘What’s he doing over here?’ KP said.
Ali examined the fax. ‘Doesn’t say? I suppose they think we should know.’
‘Go and ask him,’ I said. ‘I’ll watch while you two interview him.’ They each picked up and fitted a wireless earpiece. I switched on the microphone and said, ‘Testing 1, 2, 3.’
‘A bit lower, Sir,’ Ali said, scrunching up her face.
I turned the dial to the left and repeated the test.
‘Yes, that’s fine,’ she confirmed.
They left and reappeared in the interview room.
Ali wrote on the two tapes, slotted them into the recorders, and then flicked the switch for continuous video.
As the senior DS, KP led the interview. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting Mr Meintjes. Would you like a drink, water, coffee, tea?’
‘Very kind, but no thank you,’ he said. There was barely an accent. ‘What I would like is an explanation of why I have been brought here.’
‘Of course, Mr Meintjes.’ KP said. She introduced Ali and herself. Her voice was as smooth as silk. She could extract a confession from a priest. ‘But before I enlighten you, I would be grateful if you could answer a few questions, please?’
He pulled out a packet and extracted a thin dark cigarette. ‘You don’t mind if I smoke do you?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Ali said. ‘You’re not permitted to smoke in any public building now.’
‘Ah,’ he said, putting it back in the packet. ‘Things are a lot more relaxed in South Africa. Yes, by all means, ask away?’
‘What business do you have in London?’
He uncrossed his legs, reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and extracted a card, which he slid across the table. KP and Ali both ignored it. ‘I am a silent partner with a firm of solicitors in Hammersmith.’
KP looked at me through the glass.
Ali said, ‘That wouldn’t happen to be Darwins would it?’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why yes, but how…?’
‘How long have you been with Darwins, Mr Meintjas?’ KP asked.
‘I began working with Patrick Darwin in 1990 as one of the senior partners. South Africa was not a nice place at that time. Apartheid you know… I needed to get my family out. Anyway, I am retired now.’
‘Why have you come to London?’ KP sounded as though she were on the immigration desk at Heathrow.
‘I am still a silent partner at Darwins. For the past six years, I have been in South Africa, Johannesburg, building up my law firm there. It is much better, still a long way to go, but… better than it used to be. I have returned for the annual partners’ meeting, and I am able to do some Christmas shopping in London whilst I’m over here.’
‘Ask him about Stone,’ I shouted impatiently into the microphone. Ali brought her hand up to her ear and screwed up her face. ‘Sorry,’ I said, more softly.
‘So this is not the first time you’ve been back since you left in 2002?’
‘No, I come back each year, as I said, for the partner’s meeting, and to do some Christmas shopping.’
I hadn’t spotted that. Well done KP, I thought. Pea had obviously not checked his coming and going during the intervening years. This was clearly not our killer. I made a mental note to tell KP to speak to Pea.
‘Whilst you were working at Darwins, did you know a Mr Stone?’ KP asked him.
‘What, Gerard Stone? Yes, he was a senior partner, but retired in… I think, 1998. Terrible about his daughter, Irene, she was a lovely girl. And then taking his own life, a tragedy.’
‘You went to South Africa shortly after his daughter’s murder?’
‘Yes. It had been planned for a long time. My family followed me out there a month later. I had made previous trips to arrange for the purchase of a house, premises for the business, and so on. I needed to finalise things before they came out.’
‘I know it was a long time ago, but can you think of anyone who might have had a grudge against Mr Stone, or Darwins.’
He rubbed his chin. ‘No one springs immediately to mind. I’m sorry. But… why are you investigating her murder now, six years after it happened?’
‘There has been a similar murder,’ Ali said. ‘We are investigating a connection between the two.’
He leaned forward and put his hands face down on the table. ‘Another murder, how terrible, and you think the two are linked in some way?’
‘One final thing, Mr Meintjes,’ KP said. ‘What do you know about muti?’
‘Ah yes,’ he said scratching his ear. ‘I remember now, that poor girl had her hands removed. I thought when I came over here; I’d left all that superstitious nonsense behind in South Africa. It still goes on over there you know?’
KP stood. ‘Thank you for your time and cooperation, Mr Meintjes. I’ll have a police car take you back to your hotel.’ She pulled a card from her jacket pocket and offered it to him. ‘Here, take my card. If you think of anything else that might be useful, please call me.’
He took it. ‘I will, Sergeant.’
PC Sykes escorted him out. Ali collected the tapes and switched the video recording off.
‘A dead end,’ I said when they came back into the observation room to return the earpieces.
‘Except that it’s interesting how everything, apart from Sally Renshall, keeps coming back to Darwins.’ Ali said.
‘Yes,’ I said rubbing my stubble. ‘I think we should have another talk with Mr Darwin.’
‘I’ll go and see if Jane has looked into Sally Renshall’s background yet,’ Ali said. ‘There must be a link.’
‘You should have listened to me,’ KP said when Ali was out of earshot.
‘I’m sorry…?’ I said.
‘After Suzie came out of your office, I heard her on the phone to her boss at GCHQ. She ended the call with a smile on her face. I guess the Chief wasn’t happy when someone rang her to complain about you?’
I smiled for the first time that day. ‘You should be at the fair telling fortunes.’
We moved out into the brightly-lit corridor. ‘But instead, I’m here with a boss who’s too stubborn to listen to good advice.’
‘We should get married,’ I joked, thinking that she was already acting like a wife.
She blushed. ‘Like that’s going to happen.’ She stormed off down the corridor towards the stairs.
Following her, I wondered what that was about, and why she had blushed.
***
The clock on the wall displayed four-fifteen as we strolled into the incident room. Ali shouted out, ‘We’ve found a connection, Sir.’
Jane looked pissed off. She’d obviously done the work and Ali was stealing her thunder.
I passed it back to Jane. ‘Good. Jane, what did you find out?’
Jane smiled and took a pad from her desk. ‘She came from Doncaster, both her parents died in a car accident in 1995, no siblings. Her father used to be a social worker, and her mother was…’
‘A solicitor,’ Ali jumped in.
I glared at Ali. ‘Go on Jane.’
‘She worked at Darwins until 1978, when she got married and moved to Doncaster.’
‘What was her maiden name?’ KP asked.
Jane scanned her notepad. ‘Shepherd, Elizabeth Shepherd.’
‘OK,’ I said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. ‘How does this fit in with what we already know?’
‘Everything appears to be connected to Darwins,’ Pea called out, standing behind Jane.
Ali seemed to be contrite. ‘Something could have happened prior to Elizabeth Shepherd leaving in 1978.’
‘But why was the first murder not until 2002? Twenty years is a long time between the two events.’ Jan
e challenged her. I could see I might have a problem with these two. I made a mental note to keep an eye on them.
KP joined the brainstorm. ‘The killer could have access to the personnel files at Darwins. Whatever the killing is about could have occurred anytime prior to 2002. He’s picking the daughters of those who work or worked there, or staff that fit his criteria for selection.’
Paul crashed the party. ‘We still don’t know why there was a six-year gap between the first and second murder.’
‘We need Darwin’s records prior to 2002,’ I said. ‘And we need to check the personnel files for daughters and staff that might fit the killer’s criteria.’
‘It’s five-fifteen on a Friday, Gov,’ Brian said. I wondered whether he was moaning that he was still here, or whether we would have problems gaining access to the files. I gave him the benefit of the doubt.
‘Right, Ali, you and Brian are to find Patrick Darwin. He’s to agree to us loaning his records and personnel files for the weekend otherwise you can arrest him for obstruction. Organise a truck and manpower and arrange to get them transported here tonight. Have them stored in one of the basement rooms.’ I looked around the sea of faces. ‘First thing tomorrow, you’ll be crawling all over them.’ I heard a few groans. I smiled. ‘I did tell you that the weekend was cancelled, didn’t I?’
‘We should question Mr Darwin again, Sir,’ KP said. ‘He’s been there throughout, knew all the victims, or at least their parents. If anyone knows anything about the killer, it will be him.’
‘Yes, good point,’ I said. ‘Ali, ask him to come into the station at ten tomorrow morning.’
Ali and Brian left to fight the rush hour traffic. I didn’t envy them on a Friday night in the snow. The fax machine began beeping and churning. Pea walked over and withdrew the first few pages of the message. ‘It’s from Interpol, Sir, a list of similar murders, sixteen pages of them.’