by Conrad Jones
“So it is from our victim.” Alec frowned and looked at Will. There seemed to be little doubt about it. “Something happened to make the killer leave it there.”
“Well, it’s a left hand. He says the state of decay means that it could be from a body in that condition, and it looks like they removed it with a saw,” the chief shrugged. “The only useful thing we have for you is that there was a gold ring on the index finger.”
“We know what type of ring it was, a sovereign, right?” Will sat forward. “We haven’t seen it though. Do we have a picture yet?”
“Yes, here,” the chief handed them a picture. “I’ve sent the photos to your computers. Smithy called to let me know they had them.”
“Thanks, Chief. That might help to narrow down our missing persons.” Alec had already spoken to Smithy about the discovery, and the team had been informed. Will made a call while they chatted and informed his officers about the sovereign ring. It was a personal effect and it would help identify the victim. They had found nothing else so far.
“Whoever left it in the room was in a hurry, and they’re connected to your murder investigation.” The chief didn’t envy Alec’s position. “The CCTV discs are on the way to you.”
“Let’s hope there’s something useful on them,” Will said.
“Is there anything regarding the victim?” The chief asked.
“Nothing.” Alec frowned. “We have to hope that the child is still alive.”
“It doesn’t help that we don’t know who we’re looking for,” Will added.
“Until we identify the woman, we’re shooting in the dark,” Alec agreed.
“Have you thought about going public yet?” The Chief looked troubled. “An appeal could yield something to work with.”
“We’re searching for a needle in a haystack as it is.” Alec shook his head to disagree. “An appeal would throw up so many distractions that we’d be looking for a needle in a mountain of needles.”
“I agree with the super, Chief,” Will said. “Until forensics comes back, we should keep the investigation under wraps. If the kid is alive, then we could spook the killers into disposing of them.”
“You are guessing that those footprints belong to a living child, not another victim?” The Chief’s face darkened.
“We have to,” Alec said vehemently. “We know two people were tied to those chairs and we know there was a child in there. We also know that the kid left the footprints getting into a vehicle, not getting out of one. We have to assume the child is alive until we have evidence to prove otherwise.”
“It will be hard to keep this from the press, Alec,” the chief commented. “The entire staff at the hotel will know about that hand by now.”
“We’ve kept the murder concealed from the press but it won’t stay that way for long,” Alec agreed. “We cannot make an appeal based on what we know now, it’s a shambles.”
“What the hell is going on?” Will shook his head as he ended his call to Smithy.
“We might have found a link to our killers but I can’t see what it is yet,” Alec said.
“Maybe it is a breakthrough, but we aren’t out of the starting blocks until we get the forensics back,” Will sighed. The case was a mystery.
“God knows why they would leave a severed hand in a hotel room, something happened there,” Alec repeated and sighed. “I believe you have a conundrum of your own, Chief. What happened at the nightclub downtown?”
“It’s a mess, Alec.” The Chief looked tired and the weight of his investigations seemed to be grinding him down. “We have reports of an explosion and gunshots. One witness said he saw one of the bouncers firing a shotgun at the doors leading into the back of the club before the explosion happened. Then there was a fire and that’s about all we have, except the owner lost the top of his ears somewhere along the way and none of the CCTV tapes have shown anything from that room.”
“Is the manager Jessie James?” Alec was familiar with his name from previous investigations into the club.
“That’s him,” the chief confirmed. “The hospital said his ears were cut off with scissors or something similar but he’s saying nothing. He alleges that he’s having trouble remembering.”
“I bet he’s not hearing well either,” Will said sourly, but it got a smile from his superiors. “Jessie and his cronies play poker in that back room sometimes, don’t they?”
“Yes.” The chief nodded. “There were more villains there that night than on Crime Watch. We found them searching the alleyway behind the club for something but none of them will elaborate about what happened to the place or Jessie’s ears.”
“What about the CCTV tapes?” Will asked. “Don’t they show anything?”
“Not the ones from the back room of the club. They’ve mysteriously disappeared, I’m afraid,” the Chief replied with a shake of the head.
“It sounds like you’ve done all you can with that one then,” Alec said. He couldn’t connect it to their investigation.
“Gangsters with missing ears points to a row over drugs or money in my mind.”
“I agree,” Will said. “Jessie must have pissed off the wrong person and if he won’t report it, then there is no crime to investigate.”
“Leave them to it,” Alec added. “It’s been pretty quiet since we nailed the Nelson brothers’ killer, but it doesn’t take much to rock the boat again.”
“What do you know about what happened inside the club before the fire?” Will asked.
“Nothing yet, there’s a wall of silence around it.” The chief shook his head. “We had a few eyewitness statements taken outside the club but when we re-interviewed them, their memories were blank.”
“It sounds like a few phone calls have been made,” Alec smiled.
“It does, unfortunately.”
The three officers went quiet for a moment. It seemed that both cases were dead in the water until the scientists finished their tests. “If you want to get off for a few hours, I’ll let you know when the results come in, Guv,” Will said. He was aware that his boss should be at home. The forensic team would be finished soon and it looked like the severed hand was from their victim. The pace of the investigation would accelerate when the results came in. If he was going to go home, he needed to go now.
“Well, I’m going to take you up on that offer and go home to face the music.” Alec looked at his watch. It would be hours before any forensics came in and his teams were out looking at the missing persons who matched the age of their victim. He had time to build some bridges at home.
“Is Gail still cracking the whip, Alec?” The chief laughed.
“Don’t they always,” Alec tried to make light of his domestic situation, but he knew he was in the doghouse. He stood up and walked to the door. “Call me as soon as anything comes in.”
“Good luck, Guv,” Will laughed and waved. He turned to the chief. “See you later, Sir. I’m going to go to the hotel lodge and take a look around the room if you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” the chief replied and jokingly saluted. “I am more than happy to leave our mystery hand with you!”
Alec took the stairs down to the car park. He couldn’t be doing with making small talk in the elevator. The signal in the car park was poor so he dialled Gail’s number on his way down the stairs, but it rang once and then clicked to answer phone. She had ‘busy buttoned’ his call again. Gail knew it annoyed him when she did that. Alec was stuck between his workload and his responsibilities as a husband. He didn’t have a job where things could wait. Evidence disappeared if it wasn’t gathered immediately, and criminals disappeared faster still. Over the years, Gail had always been supportive, but recently she had become distant and cold. Alec wished he had a time machine or a stunt double, but deep inside he knew his marriage was in crisis. The sad thing was that his investigation took priority. They always did.
Chapter Eleven
Louise Parker
Paula James turned off the e
ngine and checked her appearance in the mirror. She tied her blonde hair up in a tight bun and clipped it to the back of her head with a black crocodile clip.
“I need to get my roots done on my next day off,” she moaned as she touched the widening dark parting on the top of her head.
“Book me in, will you, Paula?” Her partner laughed. “When did you last go?”
“I made detective two years ago and I haven’t been to the hairdressers since,” she pulled a face in the mirror. “I’ve done it with Tesco home kits since!” They laughed.
“It’s so hard to find the time.”
“This is a life style, not a career, but it is what I want to do.” When her friends were out enjoying themselves, Paula was usually busy chasing bad guys. Some of them had stopped ringing her altogether. She had had to sacrifice a lot to be a detective. Her relationships rarely lasted more than a few weeks, as she couldn’t commit enough of her time to keep her boyfriends interested.
“Nice house,” Sharon Gould commented. Sharon held the same rank as Paula. “Let’s get this over with.”
“What did the Governor say about the ring?” Paula wanted to clarify the latest information they had.
“There was a small gold sovereign on the index finger.”
“Well that should help us to narrow it down.” Paula opened the door and climbed out of the silver Ford Focus. Sharon followed her and they met at the boot of the car. The driveway was white gravel; it crunched beneath their shoes as they approached the house. It was a red brick building with a slate roof and a three-car garage attached to the left hand side. A weeping willow tree to the left of the front lawn caught their eye. The leaves were gone and the bare branches looked naked without them. “She doesn’t have any kids, though?”
“There are none in the missing person’s report.”
“Who filed it?”
“Her father.”
“I like the waterfall,” Paula pointed to a feature on their right. Water trickled down a stone gulley into an ornamental pond. As they approached, the water glistened with bright reds and gold. “Look at the size of the Kio-carp.”
“They’re monsters,” Sharon laughed. “I wonder why nobody eats them,” she mused.
“You wouldn’t get them on your plate.”
“I could try. I love fish.”
They walked toward the house and Paula guessed it had at least five bedrooms, maybe six. The front door opened before they reached it, and a small man with thinning grey hair greeted them. He was immaculately dressed in a pale grey suit with a silver tie.
“Detective James?” He stepped out of the front door and closed the gap between them. “Is it about Lou? Is there any news?”
Paula held out her right hand. “I’m Detective James, Mr Parker. We spoke on the telephone earlier.”
He shook her hand and she noticed his grip was weak and his palm was clammy. The whites of his eyes were red and he looked tired. There were liver spots on his hands and face. Paula put him at about sixty-five.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said in a well-educated voice.
“I’m Detective Gould,” Sharon introduced herself.
“Hello.” He shook her hand. “Is there any news about Lou?”
“Could we talk inside, Mr Parker,” Paula smiled and tried to make him relax.
“Yes, sorry. I am forgetting my manners. Please come in.” He stepped aside and allowed them to enter his home. They walked into a wide hallway, tiled with polished white marble. A pine staircase led to the upper floor. A large picture window allowed the daylight to flood in. “Come in here, please.” He opened a white panelled door and guided them into a long through room, which had double patio doors at one end and a bay window at the other. Well-manicured lawns surrounded the building. Paula wondered how long it would take to cut them. “Please sit down, would you like some tea?”
Paula sat on a black leather armchair, her body sinking into the thick padding. There was a picture of a pretty girl on the coffee table next to her, sitting on a grey pony with an older woman holding the reins. Paula thought the woman looked like the girl’s mother.
“Is this your daughter, Mr Parker?” Paula asked. She picked up the heavy silver frame, which contained the photograph. The girl looked like the one in the missing person’s picture they had in their file, but younger.
“Yes.” He took the picture from her and looked at it. His mind seemed to drift as he stared at it, tears forming in his eyes. “Yes, that’s my Lou with her mother. She was only eighteen then. I took it at the stable where she keeps her pony, Yoyo. A silly name for a horse, but she insisted. He is still alive, you know. She rarely visits him nowadays, but he’s still there in good health, costs me a fortune in livery bills!” He tried to sound cheery but his eyes said something different. “That’s her mother, Gill. She died of breast cancer six years ago. It broke Lou’s heart and she was never the same girl after that.” This time a tear broke free from his eye and trickled down his cheek. He quickly wiped it away. “Is there any news about Lou?”
“I’m sorry about your wife. We don’t have anything new to tell you, Mr Parker, but we need to ask you some questions and look around her room. It could help us find her,” Paula lied.
“Look around her room, what for?” Mr Parker looked perturbed.
“We don’t know, Mr Parker, but sometimes we find things that may have been overlooked and they lead us to where the missing persons are.” Sharon smiled and tried to calm him. “Did Lou have any children of her own?”
“No, why?”
“Just routine, Mr Parker.”
“I see, well if you think it might help.”
“When did Lou go missing?” Paula checked her details as she spoke.
“Eleven days ago today. She took a shower, got changed and left without saying a word.”
“Had you argued, Mr Parker?” Paula asked.
“Yes, constantly since her mother died.” Tears filled his eyes again and his voice broke as he explained. “She went off the rails, I’m afraid. Drink and drugs, cocaine, you know how it works; I’m sure, being detectives.”
“What did you argue about?”
“Money, as usual.” He tutted and rolled his eyes. “I’m a wealthy man, Detective James, and Lou tries to spend my money faster than I can earn it.”
“Paula, please call me Paula.”
“Paula it is, then, and you are?” He turned to Sharon.
“Sharon.”
“Paula and Sharon. I’m Robert, but everyone calls me Bob.” He tried to smile again but the pain was still in his eyes.
“You were telling us about the argument, Bob.”
“Yes, I was.” He walked to the patio doors and looked out at the grass, his hands clasped behind his back. “When Gill died I set up a trust fund for Lou, in case anything happened to me. Everything would go to Lou, of course, but you know how long these things can take, and I didn’t want her to struggle while they managed the estate. Lou couldn’t cope with her mother’s death, she became angry and bitter. She was out partying all the time, drinking herself into all kinds of trouble. Then along came the cocaine and the men. God knows how many different men I’ve seen creeping out of here in the morning, some days there were more than one.”
He turned to face them and he wiped his eyes. There was a painful silence before he continued.
“It was terrible watching my baby girl losing her dignity and self respect. I tried to help her. We went to grief counselling at first, which didn’t help her at all. She just became more depressed. The more depressed she became, the more she drank. I sent her to rehab three times in the last two years, but she slipped back into the gutter every time.”
“I’m sorry about Lou, Bob. It must have been very difficult for you. What made you report her as missing? Could she have stayed out partying with her friends?” Paula hoped Lou was drunk somewhere, high as a kite on cocaine, but alive. She did not want her to be the woman who had been butchered in Jamaica Street.
Robert Parker seemed to be a nice man. Finding out that someone had strung his daughter from the rafters of a derelict building and tortured her to death would break his heart.
“No. You see, she always came home. I never chastised her for bringing men home because it was better than not knowing where she was. It was the lesser evil for me.”
“I see. You said you argued about money before she left,” Paula prompted him.
“Yes. I found out that she was taking money from her trust fund. She had spent thousands of pounds. I give her a generous allowance every month but she has squandered it on drink and cocaine. Gill would be spinning in her grave if she could see what her precious daughter has become.” His voice cracked again and he took a crisp white handkerchief from his trouser pocket and wiped his eyes.
Paula swallowed hard. If he had known why they were visiting him, he wouldn’t have said that. His daughter had possibly become the victim in a horrific murder investigation.
“Do you have any recent pictures of Lou?” Paula asked. They wouldn’t help in identifying the body, but they might help them to find witnesses who had seen the victim before she was murdered.
“Yes. I’ll dig some out for you. I’m sure there are some on a disc we took at Christmas. We managed to spend a few hours together on Christmas day, before she rushed off to a party, of course.” He headed for the door, which led into the kitchen. “Would you like some tea while I’m in here?” He called. Paula heard drawers opening as he rummaged for his camera.
“Tea would be good, please, Bob,” Paula answered.
“What do you think?” Sharon whispered.
“It doesn’t look good given she always came home after a night out. Eleven days is a long time to be out partying.” Paula had a bad feeling about it. She stood up and followed Bob into the kitchen. It was a modern design fitted with new appliances that looked unused. “Did Lou have any close friends we could speak to?”
Bob took his camera from a drawer and turned it on. He scrolled through the pictures while he thought about Paula’s question.