When she finished talking and had passed the sheet of paper out into the office for everyone to look at, there were faces staring back at her with incomprehension in their eyes.
‘You’re saying whoever killed this guy knew he was going to kill him and how, and drew a picture of it and sent it to you days before it happened?’ said Lisa, shock edging her voice. ‘Why the hell would he do that? The drawing, I mean.’
It seemed this was going to be a common question in this case, and one Claudia had no answers to.
‘This is why we’re the Complex Crimes Task Force,’ Claudia said instead, hoping to lift them from their confusion and encourage them to be excited by the new job. ‘To look at unusual cases like this. You all signed up to be here. This will be interesting, something to get our teeth into.’ She looked around her and she turned and paced some more, activity making her brain cells function. If she had a problem she liked to go for a run, but that wasn’t possible here, so she paced the incident room instead.
‘Tell me about the victim.’ She’d told them what was strange about the case. Now she needed to get on with the job.
‘We have an ID because his car was at the scene,’ said Krish. ‘The victim was Oliver Kennedy. He was twenty-seven and single. Lived alone. His parents are separated.’
Claudia thought back to the crime scene. Oliver Kennedy had been youthful, even in death. There was something so young and naïve about him. How had he ended up on that killer’s bed? ‘What did Oliver do for a living?’
Krish checked his notes. ‘HMRC has him down as working in a coffee shop and also as a model.’
Claudia thought again of the baby face she had looked down on. The hopes and dreams the man must have had. It made her sad. ‘So why was Kennedy in that industrial building today?’
There was a deadly silence.
Claudia let it play out. She wanted her team to think, to allow scenarios to play out. This was their first case as the Complex Crimes Task Force, as a team together. They couldn’t fall at the first hurdle. There was a lot riding on this. Not just for Kennedy and his family, but for Claudia, her reputation and her future.
She rounded a desk and paced on. ‘The car being at the site tells us it was likely that Oliver drove there of his own accord. He wasn’t dragged there kicking and screaming. Obviously there’s a possibility the killer has been inside his vehicle, which is one of the reasons we’ve recovered it. That information will take a few days to come back from forensics, though. What we have to ask ourselves is why he would meet someone in such an isolated spot? Did he know the killer?’
‘Something to do with his modelling work?’ asked Rhys.
‘Good question,’ she said. ‘Find out if he works for a specific agency and then check if they sent him there. In the meantime we have to wait for forensics and the post-mortem, which I’m attending with Dom later today.’ She only called him Dad out of hours or when they were alone.
Dominic lifted his chin in acknowledgement.
‘We need a media plan to arrange a press release.’ She looked to Lisa. ‘Can you liaise with the media department and pull something together with them, please, and let me check it before it goes out? Do not, under any circumstances, mention the drawing we received before the murder occurred. This has been requested by Sharpe. Not only do we want to prevent an influx of drawings from the nutters out there, but we want to hold the pertinent information back for when we make an arrest. Something only the killer will know.’
Lisa agreed.
‘The first thing I have to do is to inform Oliver’s next of kin. Russ, if you can appoint a FLO to follow me on there, that would be great.’
* * *
The semi-detached house in Greenhill was well tended. The grass was neatly mown and the bushes across the front of the premises were well groomed. Horizontal blinds lined the bay windows, keeping the home private.
The woman who answered the door was youthful like her son. For some reason, this made Claudia more anxious than usual. Parents should never have to lose a child. Especially in such a cruel way. But this pair were like a Peter Pan couple. This mother was where Oliver had got his good genes from.
Claudia and Russ showed Louise Kennedy their warrant cards and with worry etched on her smooth face she allowed them entry, moving straight into the kitchen. Louise Kennedy grabbed the kettle as she spoke, asking if they wanted drinks and not waiting for a reply. Electricity coursed through the air. A frisson of fear emanated from Louise, who probably sensed it was bad news and was cutting off any opportunity for them to speak and destroy her life.
Water gushed into the kettle, the sound loud and brash in the fragile world the three found themselves in.
With a click the kettle was on and Louise moved to the cupboards to gather mugs and then the fridge for milk.
Claudia took a step towards her and placed a hand on her arm. ‘Louise, if we can have a minute of your time?’ The act of making drinks was soothing her. But Claudia had to stop this and do what they had come here for. No matter how painful.
Louise Kennedy jumped as if Claudia had electrocuted her.
‘I’m sorry,’ Claudia said.
‘No.’ Louise backed away. Her hips hitting the edge of the counter top.
‘We need to speak to you about Oliver. Can we sit somewhere?’ Claudia looked at the kitchen door, hoping Louise would lead them to the living room.
Louise, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, stared at her, then she spun and started on the tea-making ritual again. The kettle was now boiled. She started to pour the water, making drinks for everyone, keeping her hands and her mind busy.
Claudia tried anew. ‘Louise, there’s been an incident this morning involving Oliver. We need you to listen to us.’
The tension was palpable. Louise was vibrating. It was obvious to Claudia that she was keeping the truth at bay, but how much longer could she put them off? She grabbed the tea caddy as Claudia spoke behind her again. The canister dropped from her hand, hit the edge of the counter and slammed onto the floor.
Louise let out a small yelp as the jar smashed to pieces on the tiled ground. Tea bags scattered to the corners of the room with flecks of white ceramic that had broken away. Her eyes welled and her hands went to her chest.
Russ went for the floor and Claudia to Louise. They were a practised team. Claudia wondered how they would have operated had she brought Dominic with her. She had never worked with him before, and it was a strange situation. They both had to get their footing. Learn how the other performed.
Louise crumbled, her knees buckling. ‘Oliver?’
Claudia ushered her out of the kitchen, hoping to find the living room. It wasn’t hard, it wasn’t a large house. She sat Louise down and crouched in front of her.
‘We found Oliver dead this morning, Louise. I’m so sorry. He was murdered.’ It was always best to deliver the facts as succinctly as possible, so there was no confusion as to what was being said.
There was a heavy silence as the two women watched each other.
Then Louise started to break. Her voice came in a fractured hum that gradually grew into an ear-splitting howl. She clawed at her clothes, her chest and her face, her distress raw and fragile.
Claudia reached out and touched her. Shock shuddered through Louise.
‘What happened to my boy?’
Russ entered quietly behind Claudia.
‘We don’t know. We’re investigating it now. He was found on an industrial estate on the outskirts of Sheffield. Do you know of any reasons he would be there?’
Tears were slicing down her cheeks. Louise shook her head. ‘Why would someone kill Oliver?’
To Louise, Oliver would always be a small boy set in amber forever. Never to grow old. Claudia could do nothing to ease the woman’s pain other than investigate the murder and bring some justice to the case. Of course they would provide her with more details on the actual murder in time, and they would come out at any trial in the future. But right n
ow it was enough that she knew her boy was dead and had been murdered.
Claudia pulled a small card from her pocket. ‘We hope to find out. These are my contact details. Call me if you have any questions. I’m sending a family liaison officer to your home to talk to you about Oliver and to keep you apprised of the investigation.’
Louise took the small offering, though Claudia was aware she wouldn’t be able to read it through the tears.
‘Did he have any new friends recently, that he’d talked about?’ she asked. It was difficult when your child had flown the nest, you didn’t always know their life.
Louise was still shaking her head from the last question. A continual motion of denial. The hope that this was not her world. That Oliver was somehow fine out there somewhere. Desperation emanated from her.
‘No one new in his life?’
Louise bent double. ‘Nooo,’ she howled. And Claudia couldn’t tell if it was in response to her question or at the fact Louise didn’t want this to be happening.
She turned to Russ, who just looked saddened. In his hands was a steaming mug. He’d made a tea for Louise. The action of sipping on a warm drink was soothing. Not the brew itself, but having something to hold, something warm, and something to do with your hands and your thoughts as you ran through the motions of drinking.
Claudia nodded him forward and Russ stepped towards Louise, holding out the mug.
‘Do you have anyone we can call who would come round and sit with you, Louise?’ she asked, not wanting to leave the woman alone when they left.
Louise rubbed at her face with her fists, tears smeared over glowing cheeks, eyes highlighted red and angry. ‘My mum. I can call my mum.’ She sniffed and wiped again, but it didn’t stop the torrent of tears that were falling.
‘Let us have her number and we’ll arrange that for you.’
Louise took the drink from Russ. Her tears slipped silently down her face, her angry sobs more subdued. ‘Her number’s in my phone, in the kitchen. It’s not locked. Listed under Mum.’ It was the most she had spoken since Claudia had informed her of her son’s death.
Russ headed to the other room.
‘We’ll get your mum here for you, Louise. We need to ask you a couple of questions though, if you’re up to it?’ This was never easy. As police they had a job to do, and yet this woman wanted to grieve quietly and privately for the loss of her only child. It was such a difficult balance to be had. Claudia felt the intrusion acutely but nevertheless ploughed on as she had to.
Louise stared at her with incomprehension etched across her face. The thought of answering Claudia’s questions was an impossible task.
Claudia took the look to mean that it was okay to go ahead as she needed to. It may have meant the opposite, but the questions had to be asked regardless. ‘How was Oliver this past couple of weeks?’
Louise stared up at the wall, where family photographs looked down at them. Oliver in happy times. A smile across his face. Louise grinning like they had all the time in the world. Unknown to her he would be stripped away from her so savagely. ‘He was . . . Oliver.’ Her voice barely a whisper.
‘Did he mention any problems he was having?’
Louise tried to focus, tried to wipe away the tears, but they continued to fall. ‘If Oliver had problems he wouldn’t have talked to me about them. He’d have tried to protect me in his wonderfully kind way and kept them hidden. No, he didn’t mention any problems.’
‘What about new friends?’
This time she shook her head. Her words were failing her.
‘Everything was okay with work?’
‘The coffee shop ticked over. But his modelling, you’d have to speak to his agent.’
‘His agent?’
‘Yes. She’s a lovely woman by all accounts. Audrina Post. I have her card somewhere if you need it?’
Claudia wasn’t sure Louise was capable of searching out what they needed, but she needed those contact details.
Louise rose from her seat and stumbled. Claudia jumped up, reached for her elbow and steadied her. The woman turned her broken eyes on her. Claudia’s heart ached a little. This was the most emotional part of the job and it never got any easier.
‘Let me help.’ She sat Louise back down. ‘Tell me where it is and I’ll get it.’
Louise directed Claudia to a kitchen drawer, where she found a small rectangular card with the details for Audrina Post, an agent based in London.
She thanked Louise and made her a fresh drink. ‘When did you last see Oliver?’
Louise dabbed a crumpled tissue at her face. ‘A couple of days ago. He called in after work. I made him some dinner, we chatted. He said he’d drop by at the weekend.’ She broke down further. Oliver would never visit again. There would be no more dinners with him.
‘Can I see him?’ Her voice was weak — Claudia understood — at the thought of seeing her boy in such circumstances.
‘Of course.’ Claudia’s own heart ached but she kept her control. ‘We need you to do the official identification. We’ll make arrangements for it to take place today.’
Louise bent double with the pain of what she had asked and was being asked to see.
For Claudia it was this pain that cut through her professionalism the most. She took a couple of quiet calming breaths before she spoke again.
‘Was he at work yesterday?’
Louise held her head in her hands. She blinked as though trying to clear the fog in her head, trying to focus on the discussion. Her voice was thick with emotion. ‘Yes . . . yes he should have been.’
Claudia needed to know who the last person to have seen him was and at what time. They’d need to attend the coffee shop.
Russ quietly informed Louise that her mother would be here shortly. They’d wait until she arrived before they left. They wouldn’t leave her alone with grief as deep and painful as hers.
Claudia tried to reassure her. ‘We’ll keep you updated on the investigation into Oliver’s murder. The family liaison officer will help pass information between you and the investigating team, so please don’t worry that you’ll be out of the loop.’
Louise looked up in horror as a thought crossed her mind. ‘What about Oliver’s dad? His dad. Oh my God.’
‘Another officer has gone out to inform Oliver’s dad.’
Louise settled again. Settled as much as a mother could whose life had just been altered in a way no parent should ever have to experience.
CHAPTER 11
Claudia dropped Russ off at the station and picked up Dominic. It would have been easier to take Russ to the post-mortem, but with two detective sergeants she didn’t want to be seen to be favouring one over the other. People might have expected the favoured officer to be her father, but in fact it was Russ, the guy who had always been on her team and with whom she already had a working relationship. Not the guy who was grieving and who she shared grief with. That actually made it more difficult than anything else.
‘How did it go?’ asked Dominic as they strode down the corridors of Sheffield Medico-Legal Centre towards the mortuary.
‘About as you’d expect.’ Tension ran through Claudia’s body. They had fifteen minutes to kill before they were due at the PM. Now was the perfect time to talk to her father about the phone call she’d received.
There was a knot of anxiety in her throat stopping her spitting the words out.
‘What is it, Claudia?’ There he was again. Noticing the personal stuff with her. She never had this issue with her team.
She ground her teeth together and pulled in a deep breath.
‘Talk to me.’
If he’d just give her the chance. She slowly let out the breath.
Dominic stopped still. A woman behind him nearly walked into him, and a loud tut echoed in the corridor as she skirted around him.
‘Sorry, sorry.’ His hands were up in defence as the anger flared from her.
Claudia could hear the woman muttering about idiots as she
marched onwards, out of view.
Dominic moved to the side of the corridor and looked at his daughter. Claudia huffed and side-stepped with him.
‘I received a phone call this morning.’
‘Oh.’ He was going to make her tell him everything.
She was dreading his reaction and had no idea what it would be. Rage would be a good guess. ‘It was from Samuel Tyler’s solicitor.’
There was an awful silence as the words sank in. She could practically see his mind fumbling with the sentence, trying to rearrange it into something else other than what it was.
Eventually he spoke. His jaw tense. ‘What did he want?’
The next bit was even worse. ‘Tyler wants to see me.’
She held herself still, waiting for the explosion. Her father was furious, as expected, at Samuel Tyler for the murder of her step-mother. Any time Claudia mentioned his name, even in relation to work and the prosecution, he struggled to hold himself together. That was one reason Claudia thought he had returned to the office too soon.
There was no explosion, though. Dominic’s face paled. He leaned back on the wall he was standing next to, as if his legs had given way beneath him. A hand held him against the wall, still and steady.
‘For what reason?’ It was barely a whisper.
Claudia checked her watch. Ten minutes. They needed to get through this, but her dad looked dreadful. Worse than she had imagined. How had she believed she could do this in a gap in their work schedule? She should have waited until the end of the work day. But the truth was, she wanted to talk to her dad about it. She wanted his opinion. Talking to Tyler was a big deal. Especially with him dangling the promise of it being worth her while in front of her. Like there was something he wanted to say that she would want to hear. It tugged at her curiosity, and her father was the only other person who would possibly understand how she felt. The urge to sort it out sooner rather than later had led her to bring the subject up when they didn’t have suitable time to discuss it.
She’d suspected her dad would not deal with it well, and all indicators were that he wouldn’t.
SECONDS TO DIE a totally gripping serial killer thriller with a twist (Detective Claudia Nunn Book 2) Page 4