When the Evil Waits

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When the Evil Waits Page 10

by M J Lee


  ‘We don’t, but he’s still asking for it.’

  ‘Could he have done both crimes?’ asked Ridpath.

  Chrissy shook her head. ‘He has a cast-iron alibi for the dates in question.’

  ‘No alibi is “cast iron”.’

  ‘This one is. He was in jail.’

  ‘What for?’ Emily cocked her head. ‘Offences against children?’

  ‘Got it in one.’

  ‘Jesus.’

  ‘And there’s more…’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Ridpath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  Chrissy continued. ‘Scully was found with a knife in his possession. The knife was plastered with…’

  ‘…Alan McCarthy’s DNA.’ Ridpath sat back and exhaled. This case was becoming too complicated and he only had two more days left before he had to report to Claire Trent.

  In that instant, David Carsley’s hands flashed into Ridpath’s mind, the nails bitten and the fingers slightly curled like claws.

  Perhaps he should have stayed on medical leave.

  Chapter 26

  Molly Wright was starting to feel exasperated. This story was going nowhere.

  She’d contacted her source in MIT and he could tell her nothing except that a new cop had come back from sick leave and may be working on the case.

  ‘May be? Haven’t you got anything for me better than a “may be”?’

  ‘He keeps his cards close to his chest, does DI Ridpath. Turnbull hates his guts but somehow Claire Trent has a soft spot for him. The gossip on the street is the two of them may have had a bit of a fling in the past.’

  ‘“A bit of a fling”? Which century are you living in? Are they fucking each other?’

  ‘I don’t know. Ridpath recently lost his wife so…’

  ‘I remember the case. Wasn’t she shot by some old loony who took her own life?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s Ridpath.’

  Molly Wright thought for a moment. Was there an angle here? Cop whose wife dies shags boss? Or brave cop back at work to solve child killing case? Perhaps both? She filed it in her brain as a possibility for later.

  ‘Anything else going on with the case?’

  ‘Not a lot. They seem to be running out of ideas. Turnbull has a bee in his bonnet about the father. Keeps trying to get intel from Scotland.’

  ‘What intel?’

  ‘I dunno. He doesn’t let me anywhere near it.’

  ‘Find out.’

  ‘I don’t know if I can, I’m not—’

  ‘Stop whining and find out. There’s a pony in it for you if you get it to me quickly. Enough to keep you in bets for a couple of days at least. But with your luck…’

  ‘I’m on a losing streak at the moment. It’ll change soon.’

  ‘That’s what they all say. If you want the money, you’d better get your arse in gear.’

  She ended the call before he could ask for any dosh for this phone call. She believed you should always keep your informants lean and mean. In this case, leaner and meaner.

  The story was starting to cost her money. She didn’t know how long she could continue to feed this particular dragon. The Ridpath stuff and the search for intel in Scotland sounded interesting, but it might be a long time before either of them bore fruit.

  She checked the weather outside her window. It was one of those days that couldn’t make its mind up whether it was the middle of summer or the middle of winter; a grey, remorseful sky, a racy wind and occasional bursts of sunshine lighting up the dreary red brick of the houses opposite.

  She dragged herself out of bed and into the toilet, past the empty bottles of Rioja strewn around the floor. Her bladder was fit to bursting.

  Maybe she should give it all up and retire to Spain to write the great British novel. At least the plonk would be cheaper and the weather better.

  Maybe she should go further south. To Morocco, perhaps, indulge in a downy boy or three.

  Maybe.

  Maybe.

  Maybe.

  Was she catching a dose of the maybes from her source?

  Maybe.

  Chapter 27

  ‘Right, it’s a big job, so we need to work smart. Last night I went through the case files and the documents Chrissy downloaded for me. This morning, I met Dr Schofield at the mortuary and he took me through the post-mortem results again.’

  ‘How was that?’ asked Emily.

  Ridpath ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Not great. David Carsley was sexually assaulted and strangled. Schofield thinks the killer will strike again.’

  ‘The same conclusion as our criminal profiler?’

  Ridpath nodded. ‘We have to stop him.’ He opened his notebook, checking his action points from last night. ‘From the documents, there was no evidence at the crime scene or DNA on the body, so it means we are left with the witnesses. And because we were swamped by all the calls from the photofit, I think the investigation became inundated with too much information. I want us to go back to basics.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Emily.

  ‘We have two crime scenes: the place where David Carsley was kidnapped and the place where the body was found. The closest witness to the kidnapping was Daniel, the boy’s brother. He noticed a man talking to David before he disappeared.’

  ‘And we have the photofit,’ added Chrissy.

  ‘Right. I want to talk with him again. There may have been something Turnbull missed in his initial questioning.’

  Emily sat quietly for a moment before speaking. ‘I was with Daniel when he gave the description to the artists. He seemed pretty confident of the man he saw.’

  ‘And since then? How was he in the house when you were there?’

  ‘Quiet, reserved, missing his brother. He didn’t like to be alone.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I think he was blaming himself for his brother’s disappearance. You know his dad asked him to look after his brother before they went out to play in the park.’

  ‘What a horrible responsibility for a ten-year-old,’ said Chrissy quietly.

  Ridpath breathed out. ‘I’d like to question him again, see what he says. I can visit the house this afternoon.’

  Chrissy was chewing the end of her pen. ‘It strikes me…’

  ‘Go on…’

  ‘It strikes me that nobody has really interviewed the other children.’

  ‘What other children?’

  ‘The ones Daniel was playing basketball with in the park.’ She took out Daniel’s statement. ‘See, he says he was playing the game while David was in the playground. He could have been playing basketball on his own but I doubt it. And besides, why not with his little brother?’

  ‘Good point. We need to check out if there were other boys with him. I also want to go and see the park – we can go to the house afterwards and have a chat with Daniel.’

  ‘He’s pretty fragile, Ridpath, he’s been through a lot.’

  ‘It will be a chat, Emily, not an interrogation.’

  ‘I’ll come with you. He knows me and might be more open if I’m with you.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Ridpath tapped the second point on his list. ‘Chrissy, I want you to check up on the father. Where he used to work, what he’s like, his history. Why did they move down from Scotland?’

  ‘It’s all in the file, Ridpath, Turnbull already did the work.’

  ‘Go over it again, find out if he missed something. Or if there’s anything that’s not in the file. I keep wondering why Turnbull was so keen on interviewing the father last night.’ He stopped, remembering something Dr Schofield had said. ‘Check up if there have been any complaints by the neighbours or to the local nick. The pathologist said there was bruising on David’s upper arm which wasn’t recent…’

  ‘You don’t think…’

  ‘I don’t think anything, Chrissy, but we need to check it out.’

  ‘OK, will do.’

  He moved down to the third point. ‘This leads me to the mother. I want to go and see her. Find out why
she left the family and what she’s doing now. It’s not common to leave two young kids with the father. Did you meet her, Emily?’

  The detective sergeant shook her head. ‘Turnbull and one of the new guys handled the interview.’

  Chrissy handed over the address. ‘You want me to call and arrange a time?’

  ‘Nah, I’ll call and arrange to meet her this evening. The fifth area we need to look at is the place where the body was found.’

  ‘Chorlton Ees.’

  ‘Right.’ Ridpath scratched his head. ‘Why there? Why dump the body there? What’s so special about that area?’

  ‘It’s out of the way. Not that many people around except a few dog walkers, and lots of cover to hide a body.’

  ‘And yet the body was displayed.’ Ridpath opened the case file. ‘“Arms spread out facing upwards. Like Jesus on a cross.” Why go to all the trouble of displaying the body if you don’t want it to be found?’

  ‘But the discovery was by accident. The man’s dog found it.’

  ‘And now we know he wasn’t alone when he discovered it.’

  ‘What’s going on in your head, Ridpath?’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m looking for anomalies. The body was displayed but hidden. Why? It may be nothing, but we need to check it out.’

  ‘Anything else, Ridpath?’

  ‘Two other things, Emily. Can you check any other CCTV cameras in the area of Wythenshawe Park or Chorlton Ees? Not traffic footage, but any house with security cameras, or a shop or a bank. Anything which might show us something different.’

  ‘It’s a big area. You want me to check everything?’

  ‘Start with Wythenshawe Park and the surrounding streets.’

  ‘Wouldn’t the local canvas have picked up any CCTV?’

  ‘It should have done, but I don’t see any mention of checking for cameras other than those on the roads and the ones in the park.’

  ‘The boy was kidnapped from the park. Why check anywhere else?’

  ‘But we don’t know that, Emily. He vanished from the park but we don’t know if he was kidnapped from there.’

  Emily made a moue with her mouth. ‘I’ll have a walk around later. See what I can find.’

  ‘Good. Finally, Chrissy, can you get me the name of the SIO on the case in Merseyside? I want to have a chat with him. See if his perp’s alibi is as airtight as we think it is. Won’t be the first time, we’ve had crossed wires with Merseyside.’

  ‘And won’t be the last,’ said Chrissy. ‘I’ll message you later, Ridpath.’

  ‘Right, are we all clear?’

  They both nodded before Emily said, ‘You know Turnbull’s going to hear about you sniffing around his case, don’t you?’

  The image of David Carsley’s cold body lying on the even colder steel table flashed into Ridpath’s mind. ‘That’s the least of my worries, Emily.’ He stood up. ‘Let’s get going to Wythenshawe. I’ll wait for your messages, Chrissy.’

  ‘What about my bike?’ said Emily. ‘Somebody’s bound to nick it if we leave it here.’

  Ridpath smiled. ‘Nick a copper’s bike? They wouldn’t dare.’

  ‘They’d nick a Jumbo Jet if it was parked round here,’ laughed Chrissy.

  ‘No worries, we’ll sling it in the boot of the Vauxhall. If I can fit three burly coppers in there, it can fit a bike.’

  Emily didn’t ask what three coppers were doing in Ridpath’s boot, and he didn’t tell her.

  Chapter 28

  There had been five minutes of silence between them as Ridpath drove from Central Manchester out to Wythenshawe.

  The car smelt slightly of oil from Emily’s bike jammed into the back seat. They had tried to fit it in the boot but it was too large.

  It was Emily who spoke first. ‘You know, Turnbull has run this investigation by the book. I’ve been working on it from the start – I don’t think we made any mistakes.’

  ‘Great, it means I’ll have nothing to report when I speak to Claire Trent on Saturday.’ He signalled left, glancing across at her as he did. ‘I’m not out to get Turnbull, I just want to solve the case.’

  She laughed. ‘He’s out to get you.’

  ‘That bad, huh.’

  ‘Worse. I think he blames you for upsetting his first investigation as the DCI in charge of the Major Investigation Team. He feels you undermined him and, as long as you’re in MIT, you are a challenge to his authority.’ She pursed her lips. ‘He’s not a man used to being challenged.’

  ‘We caught the killer, I thought that’s all that mattered.’

  ‘Sometimes, Ridpath, I think you’re so naive. How have you survived all these years?’

  ‘By doing my job.’

  Silence descended in the car again. Ridpath spoke next. ‘How was life in my absence?’

  ‘You mean how was MIT?’

  He nodded, staring straight ahead at the road.

  ‘The usual. The grinding boredom of preparing cases for CPS, followed by moments of exhilaration, and then the heartbreak of disappointment as yet another villain gets off through a technicality, or the trickery of a clever barrister. In other words, life as usual in the police. How was…’ She hesitated for a moment.

  ‘Go on, if you don’t ask now, forever hold your peace and all that.’

  She took the plunge. ‘How were you?’

  He began breathing in and out slowly as he had been taught by Dr Underwood, concentrating on the positive aspects of his breath. ‘Not so good at first, after Polly died, I mean. It took me a while to accept she was gone.’

  ‘I thought the force provided bereavement counselling?’

  ‘They do, but you still have to work it out for yourself. The feelings. The guilt.’ He paused for a moment, his fingers tapping furiously on the steering wheel. ‘And then the doctors diagnosed me with PTSD.’

  ‘As a result of her death?’

  He nodded. ‘Well, I was in a service apartment, drinking too much and sleeping too little. Eve was at her grandparents’ and the treatment hadn’t started because of lockdown.’

  ‘Not a great time…’

  He laughed ruefully. ‘The understatement of the year. Gradually, though, time works and the treatment kicks in, and you use the coping strategies to handle the anxiety.’

  ‘But you’re back to normal now?’

  ‘To quote my therapist, “define normal?”’

  She laughed again. ‘You seem like you’re back to your old self.’

  ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever be my “old self” again – perhaps he died with Polly.’ Before Emily Parkinson could ask another question, he jammed on the brakes and pulled up the handbrake. ‘We’re here.’

  They were in a car park in the middle of Wythenshawe Park. Ridpath stepped out of the car, immediately taking in his surroundings.

  It was funny to think that here in the middle of one of the largest council estates in Europe was this little bit of the English countryside. Trees waved in the breeze, clouds scudded across the blue sky, a few children were shouting to each other but he couldn’t hear their words. A horticultural centre from the old Tatton Estate was on one side – he could just see the tops of the glass greenhouses. On the other was a riding centre and a community farm.

  ‘The playground is this way,’ said Emily.

  He followed her as she strode off to the right. The car park was open and easy to look around with no surrounding buildings. Had the killer parked here before picking up David Carsley?

  There were no CCTV cameras. Why was that? He thought all car parks had them these days.

  As if reading his mind, Emily answered, ‘No CCTV. We checked with the council, they haven’t got round to installing it yet. The cutbacks…’

  Her voice trailed off. Cutbacks seemed to be the excuse for everything these days, but he wondered, if this park had been located in a more upmarket area, would the same restrictions apply?

  ‘The park was created from the old Tatton estate when they built the council
houses. The old Hall is over there.’

  ‘Wasn’t there a fire a few years ago?’ He remembered the house from a school trip many years ago when he had been bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It was an old Tudor mansion, with oddly shaped rooms and beautiful wooden floors. Stepping into one upstairs room was like stepping back into the past.

  ‘Yeah, it was set on fire by somebody off his face. I think they’re still repairing the damage. It was due to open this year but hasn’t yet.’ She threw her arms out. ‘The whole park is about 270 acres.’

  ‘Big.’

  ‘I think I walked over every inch of it when we searched the place.’

  ‘You didn’t find anything?’

  ‘Lots of stuff, but nothing related to David Carsley.’

  They were walking along a path. On their right, Ridpath could see the playground through the trees. The equipment had obviously seen better days. There were swings, a slide and a few other smaller pieces for young kids, but it was all old and careworn, nothing modern at all.

  ‘So David was playing here alone on the day he was abducted?’

  ‘Right.’

  Ridpath circled 360 degrees. There were picnic tables on one side and trees surrounded the site. ‘Nobody was sitting at those tables?’

  ‘Apparently not. You have to remember it was lunchtime, around one thirty.’

  He wondered if the fact it was lunchtime was important but asked, ‘And Daniel Carsley, where was he?’

  ‘He was on the basketball court with his friends.’ Emily pointed through the trees. ‘Over there.’

  Ridpath could make out a wire fence and some hoop stands through the trees. ‘How could Daniel Carsley see his brother?’

  ‘That’s the same question Turnbull asked. The boy said he couldn’t see when he was playing, but stopped to have a look for his brother, noticing the man talking to him.’

  Ridpath strode out of the playground area towards the basketball court. Even though it wasn’t far away, the trees surrounding the location blocked most of the view.

  ‘The only place you can see the playground is from the left-hand corner of the basketball court. Daniel said he looked for his brother, couldn’t see him, so he ran back to check.’

 

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