Call It Pretending (#3 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

Iain stood up.

  “I couldn’t give a shit about you or your life. It’s all boohoo poor fucking me.” He leaned over Jon. “You wound her up and convinced her she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Don’t bother to deny it because I don’t believe you. I’ve seen you pretending you don’t know people when they talk to you. Then the next time you see them it’s all hello how are you? Acting as if you hadn’t blown them out the last time you met. Well that shit won’t wash with me. You see, Sandra was a lovely girl. She isn’t now, of course. Now she’s a trembling wreck who begs anyone who comes to see her to bring enough pills so that she can die. That’s what you did to her. Now fuck off out of my sight before I wring your scrawny neck.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  On Wednesday morning, on the way to his own office, Paolo stopped by Andrea’s desk.

  “How’s it going?” he asked, pointing to the pages she was poring over.

  “Heavy reading, sir. There’s pages and pages of stuff that just goes over and over the same old evidence. How can barristers get excited about this stuff? It is so deadly dull and boring.”

  Paolo smiled. “It’s just as well you didn’t go into that side of the law. I can imagine the judge’s face if you jumped up and told the defence to get on with it because you’re bored stiff.”

  Andrea laughed. “It’s not just the defence, sir. The prosecution’s as bad. He says blah, blah, blah and then the witness says the same thing and then the defence says blah, blah, blah, but tries to make it sound like a different thing altogether. They just repeat themselves. I pity the poor court stenographer who had to type up this lot. She must have needed gallons of coffee to keep her awake.”

  “So there’s nothing in there to help us?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing we don’t already know, so far, but I’m going through it slowly to make sure I don’t overlook anything.”

  Paolo wished her well with it and passed on to his office. He was surprised to find Barbara waiting for him.

  “I hope you didn’t mind me coming in, Paolo, but I wanted to make sure I caught you before you went out anywhere.”

  He came in and shut the door behind him.

  “No, I don’t mind at all. Is everything okay? Is it to do with Friday?”

  She smiled. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for the op on Friday. No, it’s nothing to do with that. I’ve noticed something in autopsy yesterday that I think might interest you.”

  He sat down and gestured for her to continue.

  “I conducted an autopsy on a vagrant yesterday afternoon. He’d been found in a shop doorway on Saturday morning and was believed to have had a heart attack. The autopsy should have been routine, but you’d requested a tox screen on all bodies found on Saturday.”

  Paolo sat forward. “And?”

  “The test came up positive. He’d died as a result of insulin overdose.”

  “And he was definitely found on Saturday?”

  Barbara nodded.

  “Any ID?”

  This time she shook her head. “I’m afraid not, but he has old scars on his wrists. Suicide type scars, which might make it easier to identify him.”

  Paolo felt a shiver run through his body. “Suicide scars? How old do you think?”

  “It’s impossible to say, but they look as if they’ve been there a number of years. Why? Do you know who he is?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but I have a hunch this might be the man we’ve been hunting for, Conrad Stormont. We know he tried to commit suicide by slashing his wrists. Could the insulin have been self-inflicted? Another suicide attempt, but successful this time?”

  Barbara nodded. “It’s possible, but there were no needles found anywhere near him. Although I suppose passing junkies might have taken anything that was lying around.”

  “I didn’t think they shared needles,” Paolo said.

  “It depends how desperate they are.”

  Paolo picked up a pen and tapped it against the desk. “I wonder why there was no envelope with the numbers in it.”

  Barbara reached forward and took the pen away. “You have no idea how irritating it is when you do that,” she said.

  He grinned. “You sound just like my old English teacher. She used to take my pencil away when I did it and then still expected me to write an essay.”

  Barbara smiled, but kept the pen. “Maybe,” she said, “there was an envelope and it blew away in the wind, or maybe someone saw it and thought it might contain money or drugs, so took it and ran.”

  Paolo nodded. “Everything’s possible. We can easily find out if this is Stormont.”

  “How?”

  “I happen to know both of his sons. I’m sure we can persuade one or both of them to provide a DNA sample to check against.”

  Paolo’s smile faded as he realised what that would mean.

  “If the body of the vagrant turns out to be that of Conrad Stormont, we’re right back to square one with this case. We don’t have any other suspects and the only thing that tied Fulbright in with the other three was Stormont.”

  “But surely if Stormont is a victim, that must mean the connection is still there, even if he isn’t the murderer.”

  He reached across and retrieved his pen from Barbara’s clasp. “The only thing I’m certain of is that I’m uncertain about every bloody thing to do with this case.”

  Paolo heard Katy’s voice, chatting to Dave and introducing Danny to everyone in the office, long before she tapped on his office door. Considering he’d only called Danny an hour earlier, he should have been surprised to find she’d come in with him, but he wasn’t. He remembered Lydia’s words and contemplated suggesting Katy put a bit of distance between herself and the Stormont boys, but decided against it. He was convinced Lydia’s approach was the wrong one and would, if anything, push Katy into seeing more of Danny, not less.

  She stuck her head round the door and grinned at him.

  “This is getting to be a habit,” she said. “Maybe you should put me in one of your cells to save me having to get the bus all the time.”

  “Come in, both of you, but Katy, what I have to say to Danny is personal, so he might prefer for you to wait outside.”

  Paolo caught the look that passed between them. It was one of friendship and trust. Danny nodded and pulled out a chair for Katy before sitting down on the one next to it.

  “I’m happy for Katy to hear whatever it is you’ve got to say. You were a bit mysterious on the phone.”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that, but I wanted to break this to you face to face. There isn’t any gentle way to say it. Danny, I’m sorry, but I think we might have your father’s body in the morgue.”

  Danny sighed. “I thought it might be something like that. Actually, I thought maybe you had him locked up, but if he’s dead I’m not really surprised. From what Mark said when he saw Dad, he looked like he might be living rough.” He frowned. “But that doesn’t explain why you needed me to come in to the station. You could have come to the care home to tell me.”

  “The thing is,” Paolo said, picking his words with care, “we don’t know for sure it is your father. As you know, Mark’s DNA is on our database and we are going to cross match his against the unknown man’s. But I wondered if you would be able to give a visual identification.”

  Danny’s face blanched. “You mean look at a dead body?”

  Paolo nodded. “Yes. We can wait for the DNA results to come back, but in the meantime there is a murderer on the loose who could strike again. It’s really important for us to establish the man’s identity as soon as possible.”

  “Murderer? Are you saying my dad, this man, was murdered?”

  “It looks that way. I’m sorry. Do you think you would recognise your father after all these years?”

  Danny shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I’d know if it wasn’t him, if you can understand that. Why didn’t you ask my mother? No, don’t answer that. You did ask and she said no.”
<
br />   Mrs Hunt’s foul-mouthed tirade when he’d phoned still rang in his ears, but he had no intention of sharing that with Danny.

  “Will you do it?”

  Danny swallowed and nodded. “Now?”

  Paolo stood up. “I’ll come down with you.”

  “Me, too,” Katy said. She stopped and took Danny’s hand. “As long as you want me to.”

  “Yes, please. It’ll be easier with you there.”

  After the viewing Paolo went outside to say goodbye to Danny and Katy before heading back to his office. Danny had taken one look at the body and broken down in tears. Just looking at the man and boy in profile, had told Paolo all he needed to know. They were almost identical.

  “You will find the killer, won’t you?” Danny said, a catch in his voice.

  “I’m going to do my best, Danny. I promise you that.”

  To his surprise Danny nodded. “That’s good enough for me. You said you’d do your best for Mark and you did. I trust you and I never thought I’d say that about a policeman after what happened with my brother.”

  “We will still need to carry out the DNA match, just to be certain, but from the point of view of our investigation, we are now looking into the murder of Conrad Stormont.”

  “I don’t understand,” Danny said. “Why would anyone want to hurt my dad? He was a wreck and had nothing. He didn’t even have a home. Why kill him?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Paolo said, “but I’m going to find out.”

  ***

  Paolo headed back into the station after waving off Katy and Danny. He smiled. No matter what Lydia said, he liked Danny and wasn’t going to do anything that might interfere with their friendship. A tiny voice in his head asked how he would feel if it went deeper than friendship, but fortunately, the desk sergeant called out to him, preventing him from having to walk that particular path.

  “Call just in, sir. I think it’s one for you.”

  “Thanks,” Paolo said, taking the receiver.

  He listened to the details and asked for the address. Handing the phone back to the sergeant, Paolo headed for the stairs. Slightly out of breath by the time he’d climbed to the right floor, he pushed open the central office door.

  “Dave,” he yelled. “Grab your things. We’ve got another body.”

  He noted the looks of interest on the faces of his team.

  “I’ll fill you in when we get back. I don’t know if this is one of ours or not, but the investigating officers found insulin hidden on the premises.”

  In the car Paolo gave Dave the address and then outlined what he’d been told on the phone.

  “Apparently, the upstairs neighbour found the body and called for an ambulance. The victim was dead when they got there and they called us in. Probable cause of death is insulin overdose.”

  Dave flicked on the indicator and turned right. “How could they tell so quickly?”

  “Because the syringe and the vial the insulin had been drawn from were left lying next to the body.”

  “But that doesn’t sound like our man. He hasn’t done that before.”

  “No, I know, but he also hasn’t killed on a Tuesday before, either. From what I was told on the phone the body has been there for at least twenty-four hours. The only definite connection is the fact that insulin has been used. However, the victim’s name is Andrew Miller, which just happens to be the same name as the brother who was paralysed in the accident which seems to connect to so many strands of our case. I don’t know if it’s the same person, or a coincidence, but it seems a bit of a stretch to believe in a coincidence that huge.”

  Dave pulled up near to the police tape cutting off access to the street. As Paolo got out of the car, he looked at the crowd gathered and tried to spot any familiar faces from the previous crime scenes, without any luck. While in the car he’d called for a photographer to take images of the onlookers. So far they hadn’t picked up the same person appearing at more than one event, but it was still worthwhile taking the pictures, just in case.

  As they entered the flat, the stench of decay hit full force. Paolo didn’t think he’d ever get used to the slightly sweet smell of rotting flesh. A young uniformed officer came forward.

  “The gentleman who found the body has gone back up to his flat with a constable, sir. I’ve told him to expect a visit from you. It’s the one directly above this one.”

  “Yes, thank you. Dave, you go up and keep the witness company. I just want to have a word with the pathologist and I’ll be up.”

  Paolo was surprised to see Barbara on duty. With her surgery programmed for Friday, he’d expected her to take a few days off to prepare. She looked up as he came in and frowned.

  “There’s something not quite right about this one, Paolo.”

  “You mean apart from him being dead?”

  She laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant. Our victim this time was pretty badly beaten before death. The positioning of the syringe points to the same killer, or someone who knows the way the killer works, but there was quite a scuffle that took place here prior to the murder. The attacker was really angry. Look at all the bruising on the victim’s face.”

  “So you think—”

  “Just stop right there, Paolo. I won’t know what to think until I’ve had chance to do a proper examination of the body. All I know is that these bruises are pre-mortem. That’s as far as I’m prepared to go.”

  “Can you at least give me an approximate time of death?”

  “The best I can say at the moment is sometime between nine in the morning and midday yesterday.”

  Paolo smiled. “Thanks. See you on Friday,” he whispered.

  Barbara nodded. “Not sure I’d be able to go through it without knowing you’ll be there when I wake up,” she said so softly he had to lean forward to make out her words.

  Paolo touched her arm. “You would. You’re a strong woman, but I won’t let you down. I’ll be there.”

  Upstairs the flat was an exact replica of the layout down below. The only difference was in the décor and choice of furniture.

  Paolo smiled at the police constable. “Thanks. You can go downstairs and help keep the crowds back.”

  When he’d left, Paolo took a seat on the sofa next to Dave, facing the man who’d reported the death. He waited for Dave to get his notebook ready.

  “I’m Detective Inspector Paolo Storey. I take it you’ve already been introduced to my detective sergeant?”

  The man nodded.

  “And your name is?”

  “Gordon Fairbairn. I’m Andy’s friend.”

  “Could you tell us what happened today?”

  Gordon shuddered. “I’ve been away for a couple of days. I went to visit my mum in Nottingham. When I got back today I thought it was odd that I couldn’t hear the television coming from downstairs. Andy always has it on. Anyway, I had something to eat and then went down there to have a chat.”

  “And the door was open?” Paolo asked.

  “No, I’ve got a key. Andy gave me his key months ago and asked me to make a couple of copies to keep safe because he was always losing his. They’d fall off his lap when he was out in his wheelchair and he wouldn’t always notice until he got home and couldn’t get in.”

  “So you used the key to let yourself in? Do you often do that?”

  Gordon shifted in his seat as if trying to find a comfortable spot. “Yeah. We were good mates, Andy and me. We used to watch…um, films together and play video games. I used to keep him company while his brother was at work.”

  “His brother being?”

  “Jon, Jon Miller, but Jon and me, we don’t really get on. He didn’t get on with Andy either. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he did Andy in. He was always threatening to.”

  Paolo raised his brows. “Really? Do you know why?”

  Gordon snorted. “I couldn’t help but know. Every night until Jon moved out they’d go at it hammer and tongs. I bet the whole street knew why they
hated each other. Jon was driving and caused an accident. Poor Andy ended up in a wheelchair and Jon walked away without a scratch. That’s not fair, is it? Jon acts as if none of it was his fault. Always on about how hard he works to support Andy, as if he’s some high-flying businessman.”

  “What does he do?” Paolo asked.

  “He’s got some dead-end porter’s job at the hospital. Such a loser.”

  Paolo looked to Dave, who nodded. He’d picked up on who the brothers were.

  “Let’s get back to the discovery of your friend’s body. You opened the front door and then what happened?”

  “I could smell something dreadful. I called out Andy’s name, but he didn’t answer, so I opened the door to the lounge and there was like this black thing. It was shimmering and the smell was horrible. It made me heave and when I did, oh Jesus.” He stopped and put his hand over his mouth as if to prevent himself from throwing up. Eventually he seemed to regain control. “When I heaved, the black thing moved and it was like millions of flies in the air all at once. Buzzing all angry, like.”

  “What did you do then?” Paolo asked.

  “Chucked up, didn’t I. Couldn’t help it. Then I sort of staggered outside and called for an ambulance, cos when the flies went up in the air I saw it was Andy underneath.”

  “And, forgive me, I have to ask this, but can you prove where you were yesterday?”

  Gordon nodded. “Like I said, I went to visit my mum. I left in the morning and spent all day with her. I stayed overnight and came back today.”

  “What time did you leave here?”

  Gordon thought for a moment. “I caught the 11.05 train, so I must have left here at about half ten.”

  That keeps him in the frame, Paolo thought, but smiled, encouraging Gordon to continue.

  “My mum had invited half her street to come over. I should think at least twenty people saw me at Mum’s yesterday.”

  Paolo stood up and held out a card. “If you remember anything from yesterday, no matter how insignificant you think it might be, please call me.”

  Gordon took the card and stood up, putting it in his trouser pocket.