50
‘How much did you say her plane ticket to Hong Kong cost?’ Kate asked as she reread the notes she’d scribbled on the whiteboard.
Laura dropped the slice of pizza back into the box and studied her notes. ‘Six hundred and forty-seven pounds plus tax, according to the receipt SSD found on her computer.’
‘And have we matched that figure to anything on her bank statements.’
Laura licked sauce from her fingers and studied the printouts. ‘There’s no direct payment from her to the airline.’
‘So how did she pay for her ticket?’
Laura shrugged.
‘When was the ticket booked?’
Laura lifted the paper. ‘Receipt says November last year.’
‘Are there any large withdrawals around that time? Maybe she paid for it in cash at a travel agent’s or something.’
‘No, I can’t see any withdrawals of more than two hundred pounds at any given time, and most are under eighty pounds. Besides, the electronic receipt is from the airline rather than a travel company. There’s a customer ID on the receipt, but no name.’
‘How did she pay for it? We know it was supposed to be a surprise visit home, so I doubt one of her relatives paid for it.’
‘We’ll need to speak to someone at the airline, but as it’s after seven on a Sunday, I don’t think we’ll get hold of anyone tonight.’
‘Make a note to follow-up tomorrow, would you? If someone else paid for her ticket, we need to know who.’
Laura scribbled the note, and yawned. ‘Have you managed to work out a motive yet?’
Kate checked her phone as she received a text message from Trish, asking when she’d be home. Kate tapped a quick reply: Shouldn’t be too much longer. Can you feed Chloe for me?
She pocketed the phone and returned to her computer. ‘Fenton was so cool and composed when he marched in here on Wednesday with his solicitor and declared he didn’t kill Watson, but he wasn’t nearly so calm when we found the machete earlier. Did you see the look of fear in his eyes? And I didn’t believe for one second that bullshit story about his clothes going missing. Burned more likely.’ She paused to take a swig of coffee. ‘Let’s say while he was at the hospital being treated by her, he received a phone call, or maybe one of his goons stopped by to chat. Either way, he’s having a conversation about something illicit. Yen overhears it, so he feels compelled to kill her to keep it a secret.’
Laura shook her head. ‘That’s weak, ma’am.’
‘People have killed for less.’
‘Even so, it’s going to be pretty difficult to prove in court with the only witness dead.’
Laura’s computer pinged: SSD had uploaded their findings from Yen’s house. Laura opened the file and began reading. ‘The sample of water taken matches what the pathologist found in her stomach; they also found blood and hair in the bath consistent with her head banging the bottom of the bathtub as she was held down. The only DNA at the scene matches the current and former housemates.’
‘Shit.’
It looked like Underhill was right. It was actually the former housemate, and she was seeing links where there weren’t any. Kate opened a copy of the report on her system and scanned the findings. Her eyes widened as she reached the final section. ‘Did you read the bit at the end? Last page.’
Laura sat up in her seat and quickly scrolled to the end, a frown growing. ‘I don’t get it. What’s the significance of photographs?’
‘Not just photographs. It says they found torn newspaper articles with the images.’
‘And?’
‘And we found articles torn out of newspapers at Eleanor Jacobs’s house. Remember? They were scattered around the desk in her spare room.’
‘Jacobs? I thought we were looking for links to Fenton.’
‘We are, but what if all three cases are linked?’
‘The articles at Jacobs’s house related to her own cases, right? It doesn’t say that the same articles were found at Yen’s place.’
‘No, it doesn’t, but it’s worth having a look at exactly what they did relate to. Make a note of that too. We’ll get the originals from SSD first thing and compare the two sets. It’s certainly suspicious that newspaper articles were found at both scenes, but what if it’s more than that? I wonder if there were any at Watson’s house too.’
Laura stretched her arms above her head and yawned again. ‘Ma’am, are we going to be much longer tonight? I really think we should sleep on it and begin again first thing.’
Kate wasn’t listening; she was already pulling up the Jacobs case and looking for links to Yen, Watson, and Fenton.
51
The bubble of condensation glided down the side of the wine glass, along the stem and pooled around the rim. A large fan hummed over Kate’s shoulder, but she wasn’t convinced it was blowing out cool air; she was only getting warmer and more agitated.
She glanced up nervously as the main door opened, but then looked away as she saw a young couple enter, hand in hand.
Trish had called twice more since she’d left the office, and Kate had finally sent her a further text message, apologising and promising she’d be back soon. Trish hadn’t replied yet, and Kate’s guilt at mistreating the only friend she had was becoming unbearable. If he didn’t show up in a minute, she’d have to cancel and head home to face the music.
The door opened again, and, at first, she thought the handsome man entering was someone else, but on second glance she recognised Ben’s out-of-control afro. He was dressed in a dark jacket and trousers, a pressed white shirt, under which she could see his dark chest where he’d left three buttons unfastened at the top. She hated to admit it, but he scrubbed up well, though she couldn’t understand why he’d made such an effort.
He caught her looking and waved in her direction. She waved back, and waited for him to approach.
‘I think I may have overdressed,’ he offered, looking at her skinny jeans and casual jacket.
‘Um, sorry, I came straight from the office. You look nice.’
He grinned. ‘I’m glad you noticed. Can I order you another?’
She placed her hand on the top of her glass. ‘Thanks, but I’m driving, so this will do.’
He headed to the bar, returning a few minutes later with a tall glass of lemonade.
‘I pictured you as a lager drinker,’ she said.
‘I used to be, but I’m doing a bit of a fitness kick at the moment. Cutting out all the nice things in my diet, such as beer, chocolate, bread, pasta, cake.’
‘How’s that working out for you?’
He pulled a face. ‘It’s bloody horrible! I’m surviving on a diet of chicken and steamed vegetables. I’m starving most of the day, and by the time I’ve finished slicing up bodies, I feel too exhausted to go to the gym. I just end up doing a few miles on the exercise bike in my front room, watching repeats of The Simpsons.’
‘You look in pretty good condition though. You’re certainly not fat like some of the guys I work with.’
‘That’s kind of you to say, but this shirt covers a multitude of sins. I made a resolution at New Year that, when I go, I want to be a handsome-looking corpse. I want whoever has the displeasure of slicing me open, to look down and think Phwoar, this is a good one. You know what I mean?’
She couldn’t tell how serious he was being, so smiled. ‘You’re assuming you’d have a post-mortem carried out on you.’
‘Oh, I definitely will. If I die and nobody considers it suspicious, I’ll know I haven’t lived a proper life. I’ve always said, if I get diagnosed with something terminal then I’m going to throw myself out of a plane, to leave a question over whether my faulty parachute was deliberate or accidental.’
‘You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into this.’
‘Of course. Given my line of work, it’s hard not to think about death. What else am I going to think about when I’m alone in a lab, surrounded by bodies?’
She sippe
d her wine. She had a dozen things she wanted to ask him, but she needed to win him over a bit first. ‘Have you been busy today? I mean, what does a forensic pathologist do when he isn’t hacking up cadavers?’
‘I was practising for my explosives class.’
Kate spat out her wine. ‘What did you say?’
‘I was building a bomb. Nothing big, just a little kaboom. I’ve been doing a distance-learning course with the Open University. They send instructions on how to do it, but you have to source the parts yourself.’
She stared at him, wide-eyed, until his lips curled into a smile. ‘Oh God, you’re joking.’
‘Yeah, but I had you going for a minute, didn’t I?’ He grinned back at her. ‘What are you like, eh? A distance-learning degree in bomb-making: what do you take me for?’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t…’
‘It’s okay. Truthfully, I didn’t do a lot today. Outside of work, I’m pretty normal. I woke up, read the newspaper, had a late breakfast and was then planning what to have for dinner when you phoned and invited me out. I knew I’d wear you down eventually.’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Yeah, the thing is I wanted to pick your brain about the Eleanor Jacobs case.’
‘Ah, I see.’
‘Listen, I’m sorry, maybe I should have been clearer on the phone. I’m sorry to have misled you.’
He puffed out his cheeks. ‘No bother, whatever this is, I get to spend the evening in the pleasant company of a beautiful woman. Nobody watching us would have any reason not to believe we’re on an intimate date.’
‘Listen, I’m sure work is the last thing you want to discuss on your night off—’
He reached across the table and clutched her hand. ‘Kate, it’s okay, you don’t need to apologise. It should be me apologising for getting the wrong end of the stick. Please ask your questions.’
‘Well, they’re not exactly questions; tell me, did anything strike you as odd about the post-mortems of Eleanor Jacobs, Harold Watson, and Olivia Yen?’
‘In what way odd?’
‘I don’t know. Were there any similarities that you thought were strange or coincidental?’
He grinned. ‘Do you suspect some crazed serial killer is at large here?’
‘Let’s just say, I’m trying to rule out the possibility.’
The grin vanished when he saw the grave look on her face. ‘Oh, I see. To be honest, I didn’t perform the post-mortem on Olivia Yen, so there isn’t a lot I can tell you about her situation. I know that she drowned, and there were markings around her collarbone suggesting she was held under, but that’s about as much as I know. Sorry.’
‘What about the other two victims?’
‘Watson and Jacobs? I don’t know what to tell you. They couldn’t be any more dissimilar, in my opinion. Watson’s decapitation was brutal and then the killer was smart enough to burn the body to cover his tracks. Whereas, Jacobs’s murder took time, care, and planning. So, unless you’re dealing with somebody with multiple personalities, or a very specific agenda, I wouldn’t say you’re looking at the same killer.’
‘What can you tell me now that I’ll see in your final report?’
‘About Eleanor? I found faint traces of flunitrazepam in her blood. Do you know what that is?’
‘Rohypnol, right? The date rape drug.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘So, he drugged her, but didn’t assault her.’
‘As I say, the traces were marginal, meaning it had been present in her bloodstream, but had largely passed at point of death. I would think he administered it earlier; maybe that’s how he managed to get her to the pub and taped to the table with little resistance.’
‘How long beforehand would it have been administered?’
‘To be certain, it would depend on the size of the dose he gave her. I could only estimate.’
‘Would you include that in your report? It might help later on.’
‘Of course.’
‘Anything else you can tell me?’
‘She was constipated when she died. The faeces I removed from her bowel was thick and solid. It had been days since she’d passed any. Given how full her stomach was too, she would have been in agony at point of death.’
Kate considered him. ‘Have you ever heard of anyone being killed in that manner before?’
‘Only in history books. Most of the murders that come across my slabs are crimes of passion, or quick deaths. Not many killers want to draw out the process. The longer it lasts, the more chance there is they’ll change their mind, or get caught. In my opinion, you’re dealing with someone methodical; someone who is prepared to be patient to achieve their goals.’
‘What can you tell me about Watson’s death?’
‘Even less, I’m afraid. Heavy scarring made the post-mortem very difficult to complete. Cause of death was possibly suffocation from the smoke fumes and the presence of ash in his throat, but then there’s also the beheading, and cutting off his feet.’
Kate finished her wine. She was tempted to order a second glass and take a risk with driving home under the limit, but thought better of it.
Ben was looking at her carefully. ‘Have you found anything else to link Jacobs and Watson? I mean, he was a criminal, right, and her a defence barrister. Surely their paths must have crossed at some point?’
‘I had DC Trotter review Eleanor’s case history, but she never represented him or his close associates.’
‘But what about outside of the courtroom?’
She frowned. ‘I don’t follow.’
‘I imagine someone like Watson – from what I’ve read in the papers – would have been a regular visitor to the police station. I don’t imagine that every time he was arrested it resulted in a court appearance. If it had, he’d have spent more time in prison than out on the streets. I just wondered whether she could have represented him at the station, or maybe a colleague of hers did. I don’t know, I’m just a fan of mysteries pretending to help.’
Kate made a mental note to raise the question with Laura in the morning. ‘Can you do me a favour, Ben? Have a look at the report on Olivia Yen and compare it to your notes on the other two victims. Let me know if anything seems similar, or… I don’t know… anything that just feels—’
‘Odd?’
‘Exactly.’
‘I’ll tell you what. I’ll do it if you agree to a proper date with me. Come on, what do you have to lose?’
She stared into his big brown eyes, and fought the curling of her lips as she blushed slightly. ‘Okay, okay. You win. I will meet you for dinner one night once this case is resolved. How about that?’
The grin was back on his face again. ‘You have the cutest dimples when you smile. You have a deal. I’ll look at the report in the morning and call you at the office. Are you sure I can’t tempt you to a second drink or a bite to eat now?’
She stood, and slipped the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. ‘I would, but I need to get home. Thanks, Ben. I really appreciate you meeting me like this.’
He watched her leave. ‘It was my pleasure, Kate.’
52
He follows her from the bar to her flat.
She is finally starting to piece it together, but he is running out of time.
If she doesn’t make the breakthrough soon, everything he has worked for will be for nothing.
There is only one name left on his list.
53
Conscious that Chloe was probably in bed, Kate closed her front door as quietly as she could. The living room door was shut, but she could hear the hum of the television beyond it. She entered and saw Trish asleep on the couch, the evening news concluding on the television. She was tempted to leave her there, but the sound of the door closing roused her.
Kate spoke quickly. ‘Hey there. I am so, so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me.’
Trish sat up and wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve. ‘How was your day?’
K
ate had expected her to storm out with an angry rant, but Trish remained where she was, not a trace of anger in her voice.
‘Uh… it was… uh…’ She scratched her head; how could she even begin to explain.
‘Did you catch the guy you were after?’
Kate slumped in the armchair. ‘Not exactly. We’re getting closer though. How was Chloe?’
‘Exhausting! I’d forgotten how much energy children have.’
‘Listen, Trish, I—’
‘It’s okay, Kate. You’ve already apologised. I’m sure whatever you were doing couldn’t be helped. I understand.’
‘You’ve no idea how much I appreciate what you did today. They took her away from me because I couldn’t cope, and now – now it feels like it’s happening all over again. It’s just this case. I’m not safe to be around. I might never be…’
Kate looked away.
‘She’s is a cracking kid. She really is. You know I’m not a fan of young children – God knows I had enough troubles with my own brat of a son – but your Chloe’s something special. She’s so bright, it’s untrue.’
‘You never told me you had a son.’
‘Yeah, well, we don’t talk much. I had a daughter once, too, and I would give absolutely anything for the chance to have a mummy-daughter day with her again. But that’s beyond my control. I wasn’t going to admit this – as I don’t want you taking advantage – but I had a really fun time with Chloe today. These are the moments you need to make the most of and treasure, because, believe me, they don’t last long. One day she’ll hit adolescence and become a right cow. I did; I’m sure you did too. Right now, she is innocent and sweet, and adorable. You can tell me to mind my own business, but I think the only person stopping you from being a real mum, is you.’
Kate rested her head on her hand. ‘But I don’t know how. My mum, she was… well, she just wasn’t there. It wasn’t her fault, but she was a threat to my brother and me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything ever happened to Chloe, but everything I know, everything I see, is dangerous to her. That fear just paralyses me. ’
Dead to Me: A serial killer thriller (Detective Kate Matthews Crime Thriller Series Book 1) Page 20