Made A Killing (Alex Warren Murder Mysteries Book 1)

by Zach Abrams

  “That would be most kind but I'd better wait until I reach the top first.”

  Alex let Duffie go ahead before he had a careful look over the crime scene. A partially glass panelled door gave access to the flat and opened onto a square hallway with doors off to each of the other rooms. Alex could see the blood stains on the floor just as he crossed the threshold. Inside in the hallway, Dr Duffie was examining the body of Agnes Kerr. Alex moved on quickly so as not to be in the way. The flat looked comfortable and lived in without showing any signs of opulence. The floors were nearly all covered in cheap click-style laminate boards designed to give the impression of solid oak timber. The walls were painted magnolia in colour with their plainness interrupted at regular intervals by family photographs. If Alex correctly interpreted them, David was the youngest of three siblings and the two older sisters were each married with their own young children. Someone would need to inform them. The rooms all had high ceilings and big windows, the lounge and master bedroom each having large bays. The furnishings showed signs of wear and looked modern but inexpensive, Scandinavian in style, quite possibly from IKEA. The lounge had a deep cushioned couch with two matching armchairs and a large coffee table. Sitting on a unit, there was a large Sony flat screen television which looked about ten years old, the old generation of heavy televisions with deep tubes from before LCD and Plasma screens took over the market. There was a freeview box and DVD player in the unit and a number of DVD cases. Alex smiled ironically at the sight of a line of cases showing they contained a series of Taggart episodes. Walking on, the kitchen was furnished with white melamine-covered wall and base units interspersed with a cooker, fridge freezer and washing machine. In the centre, there was a large pine table with six chairs and a cherry red Roman blind, still closed, covered the window. The master bedroom was cavernous in size and was the only room with carpeting on the floor. A double bed sat against the wall facing the windows with a pine coloured bedside cabinet on either side. Two tall, matching, four-door wardrobes sat on each of the side walls and there was also a matching five-level chest of drawers. A door on one side wall opened onto a deep walk-in cupboard. The second bedroom was a hive of activity and Alex by-passed it temporarily to check out the third bedroom and bathroom. Nothing there seemed untoward. He returned to the doorway of the second bedroom and looked in. Scene of crime officers were scurrying about, collecting samples and taking measurements. From what Alex could see, the room had been trashed, not dissimilarly to Stevenson's house. The bed was intact other than a long slash mark down the mattress enabling a lot of the foam filling to ooze out. The base of the divan had been similarly slashed. On top of the bed lay the prostrate figure of a young man, face down, arms by his side. His head was turned to the side allowing Alex to see the end of what must have been a deep gash to his neck. All the bedding below him from half way up his chest to the top of the bed was saturated in blood with pools of it lying in places. The colours varied from a bright red in places through a deeper red to black where it had coagulated. The headboard and wall behind it were also liberally splattered. Once again he was overcome by the smell of blood and he had to fight back a growing nausea. Looking at Kerr from behind, other than what had seeped up from the bedclothes, his clothes seemed strangely unaffected with the exception of the rip in his trousers. There was a tear along the seam with some blood at the edges of the ragged material and the protrusion of the handle from a pallet knife rising from his anus like a flagpole. There seemed to be little blood from the wound and the staining at the edge of the adjacent fabric suggested the tear had been made by an already bloodied knife. Alex wanted to hear from the technicians to be more certain but his first impression was that the victim was slashed across his neck, probably severing a carotid artery. He would have fallen forward across the bed and bled out. The mutilation to his rear would have been carried out as he was dying or shortly thereafter and the body was otherwise undisturbed as there wasn't much blood spillage anywhere else in the room. The rest of the room was a shambles with drawers turned out and shelves cleared. An assemblage of clothes, books, CD and DVD cases were intermingled with paints, tubes of oils and pastels, Daler boards, canvasses and frames, some painted but mostly blank. Sitting half under the bed were the broken remains of a laptop computer. Alex recognised the symbol and realised it was a MacBook Pro with a broken screen and the back cover torn away. Next to the computer was an open shoe box containing a wad of twenty pound notes held together by a rubber band. Judging by the thickness, there must have been over a thousand pounds cash sitting there so it was clear the killer wasn't interested in money.

  “Feeling of déjà vu?”

  Alex turned to see Connor standing behind him, taking in the same scene. “Not quite the same, is it? But some clear similarities.”

  “We're recording and testing everything, as you'd expect, but I'm certain it's the same perp as Stevenson's. The way the place has been methodically trashed and in particular the computer, first removing its storage and then breaking it and going through the DVD's and books as if looking for something. I could see from your look, you thought so too.”

  Eyes remaining focussed on the scene, Alex slowly nodded.

  “Something else that's worrying,” Connor added. “The killer seems to have developed a real taste for blood. We thought at the shop he must have been covered, but that seemed to have been a spur of the moment crime. I'm afraid it's given him a buzz. It's clear with this one that he's not cared about splashing blood about and probably getting covered in it. When he slashed the carotid, it must have sprayed everywhere before he collapsed and the perp would have been standing in front of him. You see the splashes all across the wall,” Connor said pointing. “You can see a blank shape behind where the murderer must have been standing that's been unmarked. If you want my first impression, he slashed Kerr then started ransacking the room, sticking the knife up his arse at some point. I think the mother must have been out for the evening and he was disturbed when he heard her at the door. He's then gone to exit, stabbed her as she's come through the door and made his escape.”

  “So he's used a different weapon for both killings?”

  “Not necessarily. I think he's had his own blade with him and used it on Kerr. After that he's found and used the pallet knife. I can tell you it wasn't the pallet knife used on his throat. He didn't use the pallet knife on his trousers either. You can see the blood stains on the fabric. They've been from the same blade he used to slash him. So you see he's still had that knife to use on the mother. The murder weapon looks to have been a short sharp blade with no serrations.”

  “Thanks, I'll leave you to it now.” Alex stepped back out of the flat, looked at his watch, lifted his mobile and called Sandra, just minutes after she'd received the call from the control room. “You'd better get yourself across here right away.”

  “Good morning to you too, Boss. Thanks for the wake-up call. Nice to see you're back in the driving seat and raring to go.”

  “Less of your cheek,” Alex laughed. “I don't know if you've been given the details but we've got a double murder here. The victims are a student by the name of David Kerr and his mother Agnes. All the signs show it's the same killer who did for Stevenson.

  “I saw your email last night and my guess is the killer's been trapped the same way Ballantyne was. He's been groomed on a website and had a homosexual relationship with Kerr. Stevenson's had the pictures and used them to blackmail him. The killer has snapped and murdered Stevenson. He's then ransacked Stevenson's house to get any copies of the photos. Now he's come after Kerr and ransacked his room in a similar way. The mother's death was collateral damage. It looks as though he could be out to kill anyone else involved so we need to get to them before he does. Black sounds a prime target.”

  “I'm wide awake now and on my way over to you.”

  Alex found Guptar and filled him in on everything he knew about the Stevenson investigation. “I want you and McKinnon to work this one between you.
I want full cooperation. Now let's go next door and see what else we can find out.”

  Alex rapped on the door and Guptar introduced him to the neighbour. Mr Singh was a tall powerful looking man, aged in his late forties. He had broad shoulders and muscular arms but there were signs of a paunch developing where middle aged spread had not been completely avoided. His six feet of height was further exaggerated by a pure white turban. He wore loose fitting white trousers and tunic and he had a heavy silver bangle round one of his wrists. He looked quite distressed, his eyes were downcast and his face was like parchment, almost matching the shade of the turban. He invited them both into his home. Compared with the Kerrs' property, this flat was lavishly furnished and the decoration looked fresh and expensive. The floors were all covered in deep pile carpets.

  Mr Singh explained that a doctor had been out and tranquilised Mr Kerr who was now sleeping in his guest room. Guptar thanked him, advising that Kerr's daughter, who lived in Motherwell, had been informed and his son-in-law was on his way over to collect him.

  Singh showed them into his lounge and indicated for them to sit on a comfortable moquette covered sofa. Singh sat opposite them in one of the armchairs. The sound was muted but BBC news channel was shining out from a large plasma screen television which was attached to the wall and an oak unit was below housing a Sky decoder and recorder and a Blu-ray player. Matching bookcases sat to the side, filled with movie boxes.

  As soon as they entered the room, Mrs Singh busied herself and left for the kitchen saying she would return shortly with tea. Guptar lifted out a notebook and pen leaving Alex free to ask the questions.

  “How long have you known the Kerr family?” Alex enquired.

  “We moved in about five years ago and they were already living there.”

  “What were they like as neighbours?”

  “They were alright. They kept very much to themselves so we didn't really talk very much. We exchanged hellos when we passed in the close. Mrs Kerr was always quite chatty but her husband was quite dour. They have two daughters, Margaret lives down in Luton with her husband and kids and we only ever saw her when she came up to visit at Christmas The younger one lived here when we first arrived but she got married and moved out to Motherwell a couple of years ago. That'll be the one whose husband is coming. Young David seemed a nice lad, he was very studious and a great artist, we heard. His mother was so proud when he was accepted at Art School. The only problem we had was he loved to play his music and his videos really loud and often late at night, especially when his father wasn't at home. It wouldn't have mattered so much but we run the newsagent shop round the corner and we have to be up really early every morning, seven days a week. My son Vikram has gone to open up this morning. We'd asked a number of times for him to keep it down. He always said he would but it never made any difference.”

  “Were you aware of him having any close friends? Boys or girls?”

  “Nothing I'm aware of.” Mrs Singh arrived back into the room carrying a silver tea service and a fine bone china tea set. “I was just saying that we weren't aware of young David having any close friends that he brought to the house.”

  “No, you're right, I can't think of ever seeing him bringing anyone home. I could hear all you'd said from next door and you're quite right.” Mrs Singh poured the tea and passed cups and saucers to Sanjay and Alex.

  Alex handled the crockery tentatively, terrified of crushing the fine porcelain in his meaty hands. He'd have felt far more comfortable with a chunky mug.

  “Now if I can ask you about last night, did you see or hear anything unusual?”

  “Now you come to mention it, there was some shouting just before midnight. I remember I was thinking about knocking on the door thinking it was David and his videos again. Maybe that's when the trouble started. If only I had gone out to complain, maybe it wouldn't have happened.”

  “I wouldn't think like that Mr Singh. If you had gone out maybe you could have ended up injured yourself.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Nothing really, after a couple of minutes it all went quiet again. I went to sleep and the next I knew was when we heard Mr Kerr crying out. I didn't know what it was. I said to Padma to stay put and I threw on a gown and went to see. He was crouched in the doorway crying and holding his wife's head to his chest. Her chest was all red and there was a lot of blood in the doorway. I wanted to help but there was nothing I could do. I went in and phoned for an ambulance and for the police and then I waited with him until your people arrived. He was very shocked. We were all very shocked. Then the police car came and then the ambulance. We brought him in here waiting for a doctor to arrive. I heard the other policeman tell him his son was dead too. He fought to get back into the flat but the policeman wouldn't let him. Then the doctor came and gave him an injection.”

  “And everything's been quiet since then?”

  “Yes, Sergeant Guptar spoke to us earlier on and there's been constant noise from people up and down the stairs, but I suppose that's only to be expected.”

  “Thank you for all your help and your hospitality. Here's my card if you think of anything else.” Alex stood up followed by Guptar and Mr Singh showed them to the door.

  Once outside, Alex looked back into the Kerr residence. He saw Sandra McKinnon surveying the scene. Her jaw was set firm and she was staring in front of her, concentrating with a great intensity, she had the same steely, determined look as when Alex had seen her in his dream crashing her car into Helen's dodgem car.

  Alex gave his head a shake to dislodge the image. He looked again and was impressed that even at this time of the morning and in these horrendous circumstances she was able to look attractive and appealing. He called across to her before discussing their immediate plans with her and Sanjay.

  They agreed that Sanjay would stay on site while the technicians finished off. He had been working the night shift and was already over his scheduled hours but would continue as long as required. Alex and Sandra would return to the office to organise investigation squads and integrate these enquiries with their ongoing ones into the Stevenson murder.

  Chapter 11

  Back at the station, officers were delegated for the routine enquiries and to man another incident caravan, then Alex, Sandra and Donny sat down to prioritise their next steps.

  “First we need to track down Black. Where have you got to?” Alex asked Donny.

  “It's moving forward, we now have recent photos from the University and local officers are set to interview his family in Inverness. We've confirmed the Otago Street address but he moved out more than three months ago. Apparently, he was in the money and moved out into his own place in Shakespeare Street in Maryhill.”

  “That's North Kelvinside, not Maryhill,” Sandra interrupted.

  “Don't be picky, what's the difference?” Donny replied, sulkily.

  “The difference is only about twenty grand on the value of a property, that's all,” Sandra quipped.

  “Now, now, children, don't bicker,” Alex cut in.

  “Right, now here's the interesting bit. After I'd heard he'd moved, I phoned round various rental agencies to see if they'd housed him and eventually I found the right one. Prolets rented him the flat in Shakespeare Street, but wait for it, I wasn't the first enquiry. On Saturday they'd had a call from someone claiming to be his father, saying that his son had moved and he'd lost the address and asking for the information. Later I checked and a couple of the other agencies had the same enquiry but Prolets was the one's who'd actually rented to him. Fortunately, they'd had the presence of mind to be suspicious. I think they were worried about data protection. Anyway they said leave a phone number and they'd check if it was okay and get back to him, but he just hung up.”

  “That's what I was worried about. Black's the next target. We need to find him before the murderer does.”

  “I've explained the urgency and I've arranged to meet the agent out at the flat. He'll give me access if Black i
sn't home and I don't expect he will be. I've just to give him a call when I'm ready to go. Do either of you want to come with?”

  “No, I'll leave it to you, but take Phil Morrison with you. Sandra and I have an appointment with a judge. Phil's back from holiday today and should be raring to go. Two weeks in Florida, if he's anything like the last time he was away he'll be tanned darker than Sanjay. What we need to consider now is whether to go public with Black's photo, see if we can't flush him out. I reckon he'll be on the run and he'll be shit scared. Everything indicates that he was involved in the blackmail scam. He'll have masterminded the IT side. He'll have dealt with the website, probably set up the internet grooming and, most likely, he'll have been behind the photography. There's no way he'll turn himself in, no matter how scared he is. If he suspected the killer might come after him when Stevenson got done, he'll be bloody sure of it when he hears about Kerr. He'll be running scared. He's going to be keeping a low profile so the killer doesn't find him, so he can't lay much lower. I don't see a downside to putting his picture out to help us find him. What do you think?”

  “Fair point, just so long as we don't do the murderer's work for him and put Black out in the open,” Sandra replied.

  “It's a risk we take, but we need to try to find him soon. We want to put out his photo saying he is not a suspect for the murder, but we believe he has information we need to help us, blah blah,” Donny suggested.

  “That's settled,” Alex said.

  “Okay, what's set up for McSweeney?”

  “The Sheriff knows we're coming out to see him at eleven, he doesn't know what it's about as I've only said we need to discuss the admissibility of some evidence. He probably wonders why it's us and not the fiscal he's seeing, but it's not that unusual. He's not due in court at all today so we're lucky there,” Sandra replied.

  “Okay, there's no telling how long this will take and Sandra and I will be tied up on it,” he continued, looking at Donny. “So after you finish with the flat, I want you and Phil to check out the safe deposit box at the bank and see what you can find. I take it that you've already got the warrant?”