"My, aren't we jumpy?"
She ignored his comment and quickly regained her composure. "Found anything, apart from the obvious, Doc?" she asked, looking beyond him at the head displayed upright on her desk.
"I fear it is the head of our first victim. At least now we can lay her to rest in one piece. I'm certain of the COD now." She raised a quizzical eyebrow. "COD — Cause of death — and I wish you would call me, Jacques. Especially as we seem to be spending a lot of time together lately." His eyes sparkled and she couldn't help but notice the attractive little laughter lines that appeared at the corner of them.
"I would prefer to keep things on a professional basis, Doctor."
"I can take a hint, Inspector." His face grew serious and he explained, "She was hit several times with a blunt object, and sustained the same kind of injuries as Kim Charlton."
"Have you had a chance to take another look at the allotment shed yet?"
"I was en-route when your partner rang me. Of course, I came straight here. I will send someone down there later to do the necessary tests. Right now, I'd like to get this back to my lab ASAP. I'm sure you can't wait to get rid of it, or the smell. I might suggest you use a different office for the next few hours."
"Thanks for the advice. Can I help you out with that?"
"Merci, can you take my bag out to the car while I carry the box."
They walked through the stark grey corridor and out to the car park in silence. Reaching his car Lorne asked, "When will all the results be available? I hate to rush you but my boss wants this case wrapped up in a couple of weeks."
He handed her the keys, she pressed the button and the central locking system unlocked the boot. Jacques placed the box and his bag inside. Lorne followed him round to the driver's door.
"Does your boss usually make such unrealistic demands?"
She stepped back as he opened the door and got in. "Not usually, but there are extenuating circumstances in this instance. He has his reasons for wanting the case wrapped up quickly."
"Would you like to share those reasons with me?"
She shuffled her feet, shrugged and replied, "I've been sworn to secrecy, I'm afraid. Pete doesn't even know."
"Would you like me to have a word? I could impress upon him what sort of time scales we are looking at for each procedure and test." He smiled up at her as he started the engine.
"There's no need for you to do that. I'm sorry, I think I might've given you the wrong impression. He's not an ogre, far from it, in fact. I'm just going to see him now. I'll reassure him that everyone is doing their utmost to bring this case to a swift conclusion. I'll see you soon, Doctor." She closed the door to his sleek black BMW sports car and he roared off.
As she watched him leave an unfamiliar churning stirred deep inside of her. Don't be so ridiculous Lorne, you're a happily married woman. Well, a married one at least.
"I've got the CCTV tape. Do you want to go through it in the conference room?" Pete asked when she rejoined the team.
"Can you make a start, Pete? I better bring the chief up to date."
"Will do. Tracy, you want to sit in on this one?"
"I'll meet you in there. I'll grab a couple of coffees," Tracy answered, heading for the machine.
"Thata girl. Mine's white with two sugars."
Lorne and Tracy watched as he made a hasty getaway.
"He means he's trying to cut back and one sugar will do, thanks, Tracy."
They both chuckled as they went their separate ways.
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Lorne, come in. I was just about to come and see you. What was all that commotion about earlier on?" the chief asked.
She filled him in on the package and its gruesome contents.
"That's awful, here take this." He handed her a tumbler half-filled with Scotch.
"I can't drink this, sir, I'm on duty."
"You've had a shock, get it down your neck, that's an order."
"I wanted to advise you on the state of play, sir. With the second and third victims we found trace evidence at the scene. But the results won't be available until the end of the week." She knocked back a large mouthful of the amber liquid and immediately coughed and spluttered.
"Is there any chance of hurrying things along?" the chief's brow furrowed.
She couldn't help noticing how tired he looked; his skin was grey and lifeless. His weight had dropped suddenly, too, but she'd been too busy to notice before. His once tight-fitting collar was hanging loose around his neck.
"Sorry, sir, but no. I had a word with the pathologist and he assures me they're rushing the tests through, but it's bound to slow things down a bit with three victims, and a mountain of evidence to try and match."
"Keep on top of it, Lorne. By the way, they've appointed my replacement," he said, quietly.
Stunned, she shook her head. "They have, already? Who is it, sir?"
"They're keeping it under their hats for the moment. Whoever it is will be taking over next Monday."
"What do they hope to achieve by keeping it a secret?" Lorne swallowed the last drop of Scotch, her need for the amber liquid suddenly increasing.
"There's too much of this I know something you don't know going on in the force. Actually, I'm quite relieved I'm leaving, even if it is through ill-health. We'll have to wait and see who walks through the door on Monday. The rumour mill has been surprisingly quiet about this one. Usually you get a list of ten possible applicants, but not this time."
"One thing's for certain, I won't have the same relationship with the new chief as I have with the outgoing one." Lorne's eyes misted up.
"I'll keep in touch when I leave, Lorne. You know I regard you as a daughter. You'll be fine, I'm positive your strong will and determination will pull you through. It always has in the past. I seem to remember we haven't always seen eye to eye. Take that case where the social worker killed his wife, Len Craven wasn't it?" She nodded. "I was convinced it was an accident and warned you to back off. Thankfully, you were too stubborn to listen, you put him under a 24-hour surveillance. He was into drugs in a big way as I recall, accumulating huge debts and came up with the hair-brain scheme of killing his wife for the life insurance. When you solved that case I was forced to eat my words, wasn't I?" He smiled as he reminisced.
"Yes. But no matter how fraught our relationship has been in the past neither of us bore a grudge, did we, sir? On the whole you generally let me go with my instincts. Others might perceive that as me being bloody-minded. For instance, the case we're working at the moment, Pete was adamant that Oliver Greenaway killed his mother and aunt, I was absolutely certain he hadn't. Pete's always decrying the fact that I rely on my woman's intuition too much, but it hasn't let me down yet."
"I completely understand your concerns. What about when I appointed Pete as your partner? You screamed and cursed like a woman possessed. Now you think he's the greatest thing under the sun."
"Point taken. I just know it's not going to be easy obeying the rules of a new kid on the block. Que sera sera. Anyway, I've come to the conclusion there's no use worrying about things beyond my control."
The chief proved how well he knew her and asked, "Are you and Tom having problems?" He reached across the desk and placed a hand over hers.
Tears of frustration sprung to her eyes, without looking up she replied, "Sorry, sir, slip of the tongue. Ignore me, that package probably affected me more than I realised."
He gripped her hand tightly. "Look at me, Lorne." She obeyed him. "If you want to talk any time, you know where I am."
Easing her hand from under his, she said, "I'll remember that the next time we have an argument and I'm contemplating my life's journey at three o'clock in the morning."
"Ah, don't think the wife would be too keen on that idea, do you?" They both smiled and Lorne stood up to leave the room.
"I meant what I said, Lorne, don't ever forget it."
She nodded and left his office. As she headed down the corrid
or towards the conference room she took a few deep breaths to help push down her bubbling emotions.
Chapter Twenty-Six
"What have we got?" Lorne asked, walking into the incident room.
"At 4:32 a.m. a suspect delivered the package. Take a look." Pete nodded at Tracy and she started the video.
A shudder ran up Lorne's spine as she watched a man, dressed from head to toe in black, deposit the box on the top step of the station. Arrogantly stopping to wave at the camera he knew was taping his every movement. It was impossible to make out his features as his face was obscured by his hooded sweatshirt as he mocked the camera.
"Is there any way we can find out how tall he is? It would be a start?"
"I'll line a few of the guys up, varying heights of course, see what we can come up with. I'll get on it straightaway," Pete said.
Lorne and Tracy checked the video, frame by frame for clues. Nothing, no rings, no glimpses of tattoos. Nothing.
Mitch burst into the room and threw himself into one of the vacant chairs. He placed a list on the table and slid it across to Lorne.
"Fifteen perverts in and around the Chelling Forest area."
"By perverts, I take it you mean Registered Sex Offenders, Mitch?" she asked studying the list.
"Actually what I meant to say was there are fifteen names on the list, thirteen sex offenders and two registered paedophiles."
"Good work, Mitch. I want you and Tracy to pay everyone on the list a visit. Bring in anyone looking shifty." Mitch opened his mouth to speak and she raised her hand to stop him. "Yes, I know this type always look shifty but you know what I mean. If we start bringing in some of these bastards, word will soon get around, it might make our killer think we're closing in on him."
"Only if he's connected to this group, ma'am, what if he's not?" Tracy pointed out.
"Then we're back where we started, up shit creek. Paddleless."
"Molly has made an interesting discovery, too." Mitch tucked his chair back under the long table and stood behind it.
"What's that?"
"Shall I send her in to see you, ma'am?"
"Can't you tell me, Mitch?" she asked, desperately trying to avoid yet another confrontation with her least favourite member of staff.
"There're a lot of details involved, it would be better coming from her."
"Okay." Lorne sighed. "Send her in."
Tracy cleared her throat. "Umm … Can I speak freely, ma'am?"
"Of course, Tracy."
"It's about Molly, ma'am." The young sergeant hesitated, her eyes focusing on the worn oak table between them.
"What about Molly? I know she can be out of order at times but if she's upset you in anyway, I want to know." Her blood started to boil. If that bloody woman has done anything to upset my star pupil, I'll string her up by the nipples.
"She had a word with me the other day. I don't really know how to say this, ma'am except to come right out with it. She feels that you pick on her."
"She what?"
"She admits she has an argumentative nature but she says she tries hard to control it. She's desperate to sort things out with you, ma'am. She doesn't appreciate having a final warning hanging over her head."
"So, she's asked you to mend some fences for her, is that it?"
"No, ma'am. I knew I shouldn't have said anything, me and my big mouth. She's trying to find the right time to have a word with you, but things are so manic around here at the moment, it's difficult for her."
Lorne could see how upset Tracy was, the poor girl was stuck in the middle trying to help both sides concerned. "I'll see you later, be careful out there," she said, dismissing her. As the younger woman reached the door she called after her, "And Tracy, thanks for speaking up for Molly."
Maybe she was wrong about Molly. Perhaps it was her fault that Molly acted the way she did towards her. A possible clash of personalities? Why didn't Pete have a problem with Molly? She didn't have time to dwell on the problem any longer because Molly walked into the room. Lorne welcomed the woman with a forced smile, hoping it would break the ice between them.
"Hi, Molly, Mitch tells me you've got something interesting to tell me about the case."
Molly stood at the front of the desk and Lorne pulled out the seat next to her and gestured for her to sit.
"You asked me to check out the Greenaway's staff. There's a housekeeper and a butler/chauffeur/odd-job man. They're a married couple — Mr and Mrs Ron Hall. Employed by an agency, they've been with the Greenaways for over ten years. The agency insisted the couple were model employees. When I asked the owner of the agency to look back over their employment record she told me that they'd left their previous post under a cloud."
"Was it a storm cloud?" Lorne smiled.
Molly, visibly relaxed now, said, "I suspect it was, although there was no actual complaint filed against them. They were ordered to vacate their employer's home immediately. The woman became cagey the more questions I asked. I think it would be worth a follow up call. To me it sounded as though she was covering something up."
"Do you fancy going over to see her?"
"Me! But I never leave the office."
"Here's your chance then. How would you feel about following up on your own lead, Molly? What do you say, shall we call a truce?"
"I'd like that very much, ma'am. I know my fuse is a tad short at times and I apologise for that."
Lorne raised her hand. "Enough said, welcome aboard, Molly." She held out her hand and her colleague accepted it with gusto.
"Thank you, ma'am, glad to be back. Shall I take John with me to question the woman at the agency?"
"Why not? Pete and I will reverse roles with the pair of you, it should be fun." She prepared herself for an ear-bashing from Pete. "Let me know how you get on."
Lorne sat back in her chair and exhaled a huge sigh of relief. It felt good to sort out at least one relationship that had gone sour, especially with the new chief arriving in a few days.
* * *
"The guy was approximately five-foot-nine according to the scientific tests I've just carried out," Pete proudly announced, when he re-entered the room.
"Great, now all we have to do is find a suspect that height and the case will be solved, easy this police work, ain't it?" Lorne retorted, sarcastically.
"Who's rubbed you up the wrong way?" Pete asked his enthusiasm crushed.
"Sorry, Pete, you didn't deserve that. I've sent the others out for the day. That leaves you and me answering the phones and going through this list I've prepared."
"Suits me. I'll just grab us a couple of sandwiches from the canteen first, shall I?"
"Always thinking of your stomach, what am I going to do with you? Make mine a Tuna and Mayo."
He ignored her comment and set off.
Lorne was seated at Tracy's desk. Still adding to her list when the phone rang.
"DI Simpkins speaking, can I help you?"
Initially she was greeted by silence then she heard a man's muffled voice in the background.
"Say it, tell her."
"Hello, who is this?" Lorne asked.
She heard a slap and a woman's pitiful whimper. The phone went dead.
"Hello? Hello?" Lorne sat holding the receiver, with the sickening realisation that the caller had been the killer. From the sound of it he'd captured his fourth victim. Shit! How long did they have before she ended up like the others?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lorne sprang into action, picked up the phone and ordered 24-hour surveillance at the allotment, the only place connecting at least two of the victims. Then she ordered a trace to be set up on all incoming phone lines in the incident room. Had the killer known that she would be at the station when he'd made the call? Was he watching her? She ran to the window, to the left was a concrete tower block and to the right nothing but waste ground. You're being paranoid, Lorne.
Pete barged into the room, making her jump. "One Tuna and Mayo as requested. What's u
p, boss?"
"He's just made contact. He's got another hostage."
"Shit. What did he say?" Pete tossed the two sandwiches onto his desk.
"That's just it, he didn't say anything. Not to me anyway, he was threatening a woman forcing her to talk but she was too scared to speak. He slapped her and put the phone down."
"How did he know you were here?"
"I don't know. Get the team back in here. I've ordered traces on all lines and surveillance at the allotment. If he can't go there to get rid of the body it might delay the woman's death a bit longer, if that's where he kills them."
Cruel Justice (DI Lorne Simpkins (Book one)) Page 13