by Lee Weeks
‘What if that doesn’t work?’
‘When the dog bites, it is trying to bring you down. Stay on your feet. If it bites your arm or leg, don’t move. If you move then the dog bite tears into your flesh, causing maximum damage. If it gets you onto the floor and starts biting you then roll into a ball and make fists with your hands and protect your neck, your head, face. Wait until it loses interest in you then walk away.’
‘What if it doesn’t? How will it try and kill me?’
‘Rip out your throat. Anyway, how are the kids? How are you? Fancy a drink some time?’
‘I’ll let you know – thanks for the advice.’
She parked up, got out of the car, and walked across to the tower block. On the sixteenth floor, she listened hard at Balik’s grandfather’s flat. She could hear the sound of the dog moving. It was walking up and down behind the door, pacing back and forth. She knocked. The dog went ballistic; it hurled itself at the door.
‘Mr Balik, can you hear me?’ There was no reply.
Inside the flat, Mr Balik was dead. His throat had been ripped out but not before he had been bitten one hundred and seventy-three times.
Chapter 48
‘We came here expecting to talk to Lisa about her connection to a murder in London and another in Exeter,’ Carter said to the crime-scene manager, Jesse Arnold, who was standing with them at the cliff edge. A tent had been erected around the point where Lisa fell.
‘We didn’t treat it as suspicious at first. We get suicides all the time on this stretch of the coastline, but we had a report of a driver seeing what looked like a scuffle and he saw the woman being lifted over the fence here. One of the officers recognized her from the gym he goes to. When you contacted us about your enquiry, we knew it was her.’
‘Who was the driver?’
‘A local man, name of Mendrik-Sutton. We have his statement.’
‘What made him come forward?’
‘He drove past here this morning and saw the police activity – he thought he should come forward.’
‘Can we talk to him?’
‘Yes. He works from home – a web designer.’
Tucker parked his car and walked across to them. He had driven straight up from Exeter.
They looked over the railings. Beneath them were three SOCOs. The body was shielded from view by a makeshift screen to either side and suspended across the front. ‘The doctor said she had probably died from a broken neck. She’d been dead about twelve hours when she was found at eight this morning.’
‘Who found her?’
‘A man walking his dogs. We don’t know what injuries are on the body yet but there are signs of a struggle here at the cliff edge. Several sets of footprints here at the edge and leading to this spot. The grass is so wet there are some slide marks here and over there, where the area has been ringed for casts to be taken.’
Carter and Willis walked across to take a look. Willis squatted at the edge of the disturbed patch of grass.
‘It’s going to be difficult to get a clean print. Looks like someone’s been stamping on this ground.’
‘Our best bet is what’s on her body. It hasn’t rained overnight. We might be lucky. We haven’t been able to get her off the cage; it’s going to take a crane.’
The officer in charge looked up at them.
‘We’re going to be able to get her down soon. If you want to take a look at her from this angle you’d better hurry up.’
‘Coming,’ Carter said.
Tucker led the way back down the road and down some steps that led to the walkway beneath the cliffs.
Lisa Tompkins’s body was caught on the metal cage. There was a scattering of stones on the path beneath it.
‘Anything fall with her?’
‘We haven’t found anything so far. We might dislodge something when we move her,’ the officer said.
They watched as the recovery of the body began. It was extracted from the cage and lowered to the walkway beneath.
Willis stooped forward to take a better look at the body as she donned protective gloves. It was frozen solid in a twisted position.
‘She has wounds where she was impaled on the cage,’ Willis said as she stretched the fabric on Lisa’s running top and jagged puncture wounds became visible. The T-shirt beneath was saturated and crisp with blood. ‘And she lost a lot of blood.’
‘She didn’t die from a broken neck?’
Willis stood, shook her head, as the rain started. Large icy drops settled in her hair.
‘She was alive long enough to bleed out.’
‘Mr Mendrik-Sutton?’
A slim, tall man, wearing thick black trendy glasses and dressed in a T-shirt and expensive jeans, opened his front door to the three detectives.
‘Yes.’ He smiled.
Carter showed his badge. Willis and Tucker did likewise.
‘We phoned earlier. Can we come in?’
‘Please, do.’ He stepped aside and held open the front door for them to walk through to his lounge/office. It was an uncluttered space with more PCs than sofas.
‘We’d like to run through what you saw on Saturday evening when you were driving along the coast road.’
‘Yes, sure. Please sit down.’
All three detectives sat on the red 1960s sofa, which was more chic than comfortable. Willis perched on the edge of the seat and took out her notebook. Mendrik-Sutton sat in the only other seat – an orange armchair.
‘Can you just tell us what you saw.’
‘Um, well, it was just after nine. I’d been to dinner with a friend and was driving home when I saw two runners.’
‘Male or female?’
‘I’m not sure. I saw them out of the corner of my eye. One had a hoodie on. I remember thinking that it was a very cold night. The road was freezing. I had to watch out for black ice. I thought that I wouldn’t have been running so late in the evening.’
‘Did they look like they were running together?’
‘No, not at first. One was a few paces away from the other. The next time I looked they seemed to be alongside one another and then something caught my eye and I nearly crashed as I saw what seemed to be a fight between them. There was a car passing me and I took my eyes from them for a split second and then I looked back and they were both gone. When I drove by this morning and saw the police activity, I thought I should say something. I hope it helps.’
‘Yes, many thanks and we’ll get back to you if we need anything further.’
After they left Mendrik-Sutton’s they drove to Lisa Tompkins’s house. They parked at the end of the road. The house had an officer outside. The team of SOCOs were finishing up. The man in charge of them – Penny – stopped to talk to Carter.
‘Any sign of anything untoward going on here?’ Carter asked him.
Penny was a slight man. The white suit ballooned around him.
‘No,’ Penny answered. ‘No signs of any disturbance. Just what you’d expect to find.’
‘Would it be okay if we bring our team down here? This could be connected to another investigation. This woman was on a list of women involved with a man we’re looking into. Three of the women are now dead. All died in different circumstances.’
‘Let us know what you need and we’ll oblige,’ said Penny.
‘Can we have a look round now?’
‘Be my guest.’
They stepped inside the front door and walked straight into the lounge.
‘You can’t swing a cat in here,’ Tucker said as he stood in the middle of the room, looking around.
‘No, you don’t get a lot for your money. Location, location, location,’ said Carter as he moved through to the kitchen. ‘This is a bit better. At least you can sit down in here. There’s a table and chairs.’ Carter began opening the drawers. Willis opened the back door and stepped out into a lean-to.
‘Nice bike,’ she said. A racing bike was leaning against the wall there. Tucker joined her and took a step past her,
down into the lean-to and then to the tiny patio beyond. He walked to a back gate and opened it.
‘This is the way she must come in and out with the bike.’
‘Where does it lead? Do we know?’ asked Willis as she rejoined him.
‘My guess is it comes out at the end of the houses, towards the station. Useful little short cut.’
‘Yes, she would probably use it most days. Maybe just hide the key somewhere while she’s out running. It’s a nuisance to run with a bunch of keys.’
‘Do you run?’ He turned to look at her.
Willis felt herself blush. ‘Yes, but not every day.’
‘Fast?’
‘As the wind.’ She smiled and almost added, ‘it’s in my blood’, but decided not to.
‘Ha-ha. You’ll have to give me a head start then because I’ve got a war wound. One leg is longer than the other.’
‘Which is it – a war wound or uneven legs?’
‘Both. I can’t dance like I used to.’
‘What kind of dance?’
‘Salsa, ceroc, jive, you name it . . .’
She looked at him. ‘I’m always suspicious of single men who go to those classes.’
‘Okay. Right. Just as well I’m lying then.’
‘I’m even more suspicious of men who lie.’
‘Of course. Sure. Well, that’s it then.’ He grinned at her back as he followed her into the kitchen, and found Carter still looking through Lisa Tompkins’s kitchen drawers.
‘Found anything?’
‘Actually, yes, I have. Follow me.’
He walked back into the lounge and stood in front of a landscape painting of moorland and windswept trees.
Willis took a closer look.
‘Recognize the signature?’ Carter asked them.
Tucker stepped in beside Willis.
‘I do. That’s one by Megan Penarth. The artist I went to talk to. From one woman on the list to another.’
‘We need to talk to all the women now,’ said Carter.
‘I’ll ring Robbo to see how far they’ve got with compiling a route for us.’ Willis made the call then came off the phone. ‘Pam’s emailing it to me now. We head north-west. Our first stop is Reading.’
Chapter 49
Ellerman was on his way home. He left his date in bed; she was someone he’d met in a bar the night before. He’d already thrown up in the middle of the night. He wasn’t even sure whether they’d had sex or not – all he knew was that it probably wasn’t protected. Now, he couldn’t wait to go – he dressed and got into his car before the sun was up. He had delayed going home since the letter arrived but now was the time to deal with it all. He arrived at eleven. Dee’s green Mini Cooper wasn’t in the driveway; he was relieved. It would give him time to settle in before she got back. He needed a shower and a shave. He was still sweating from the hangover. Sitting in the car, he splashed himself with aftershave and washed down an Alka-Seltzer with some bottled water.
After he got out of the car he stood looking at the garden and the clearing that had been going on and he remembered he hadn’t paid Mike. He can wait. He slammed his door shut and went round to the boot to get his bag out.
Once inside the house, he put his bag down in the hallway and stood listening to the silence in the house. It killed him. It wasn’t peace, it was oppression. It was not a home, it was a fancy obelisk erected to his failings. A white elephant. He picked up his bag and took it into the utility room and put on the first wash. He zipped the bag back up and went into the kitchen. He sat at the kitchen table and opened his laptop, logged on to the home network. He heard the key in the lock.
‘Dee?’
‘Yes.’
He heard her moving around the hallway. She didn’t immediately come in. He closed his laptop.
‘Where have you been?’ He kept his voice light and breezy and completely opposite to the way he felt.
She stood in the doorway.
‘Class.’
‘Oh, yes? Which one?’
‘Spanish.’ She held his gaze; he returned it and then smiled. He surreptitiously wiped the bead of sweat that had formed at his temple.
‘How are things?’
‘Okay.’
She turned and went out into the lounge. He was relieved that she hadn’t mentioned the letter but at the same time he was worried. There was no way he was going to bring it up. If she wanted to bury it under the floorboards, or sweep it under the carpet, then that suited him just fine.
Ellerman moved into his office to work. There were some calls to make regarding the yacht order. By lunchtime he was ready for a break. He’d been feeling better all the time as he forced himself to settle back into the house, to own it. He heard Dee periodically but she was otherwise quiet. He realized, the last time he came home, that she was using Craig’s room as an office. Her whole life seemed to be wrapped up in Craig’s. He looked at the history on the printer. She’d printed out articles about Spanish building companies and about property for sale.
Ellerman walked up the stairs. He found her where he knew he would – in Craig’s room.
‘What are you up to?’ he asked.
She hadn’t glanced his way when he entered the room but her fingers froze on the keyboard. She sat at Craig’s desk, overlooking the front garden.
‘Anything interesting?’
‘My car-maintenance course.’
‘Is it time for lunch?’
‘I don’t want anything. You go ahead.’
‘What is there to eat?’
‘Not a lot.’
‘You know I expect a bit more than that. You could at least have some bread in the house.’
‘I wasn’t expecting you home.’
‘No . . . well, change of plan.’
‘The letter, you mean. The women, the lies, the money?’ She kept looking down at the garden.
He stood in the doorway. ‘I explained that to you.’
‘No you didn’t. You told me your version of the truth. That’s not the same thing.’
‘It has nothing to do with you, Dee. I will handle it like I always do. Don’t worry, it will all go away soon; it’s all a pack of lies.’ She turned and looked at him with loathing. ‘Okay, I admit to having the odd affair but we don’t have a sex life any more. We hardly even rub shoulders, let alone anything else! I have needs. I am a man, after all.’ She held him with her gaze and he felt her contempt. ‘Bottom line, Dee – everything I do is for you, for us . . . Every decision I take, it’s for the best for us. I want you to be happy again. I am very close to clinching this yacht deal with the Middle Eastern men. They’ve jerked me around for long enough but they want these boats. Once that happens, I’ll pay off these whingeing women and you and I will relocate. Put everything behind us – start again.’
Downstairs, the house phone started ringing. Dee walked past him into the bedroom to answer it.
‘It’s the bank.’
Ellerman was seething as he took the phone from her. He listened to the bank manager telling him how much trouble he was in, as if he didn’t know. Then he spent twenty minutes pointing out the history that he had with the bank. Pointing out the good times that had once been very good indeed. Where was the loyalty? He concluded by saying that the deal for five yachts was almost in the bag but the manager on the other end of the phone wasn’t interested in promises. By the time Ellerman came off the phone, his face was blanched and he didn’t want to talk to Dee. He went into his office, closed the door, and pulled out the list of women from his laptop bag where he kept it. He sat in his chair and went through them. The bank were about to call in the loans. If they did that then Mermaid Yachts would go bankrupt and be forced to close. All he needed was to hang on for the deal with the Arabs. If they smelt an opportunity to pick up the yachts at cost price they would take it. He had to keep up the appearance that he was a buoyant moneymaking company director.
He felt his stomach start churning again. He rested his head back on
the chair and took some deep breaths. The bile was rising in his mouth. He was forced to keep swallowing, breathing deeply to try to stave off the nausea.
He called out to Dee in the other room: ‘You know if I go down – you do too. We are a fine fucking pair, we two. I may have conned women out of money, Dee, but you were always the reason in my mind. If I am to blame so are you. You have persecuted me ever since Craig died in the accident. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you, to make amends. All I’ve ever wanted was to make you happy. This house, this precious shrine to Craig, all goes if I go under and then reality hits. You have to face things, just like me. You can’t keep blaming me, Dee. Are you listening?’ He heard nothing but silence but he knew she’d heard.
Chapter 50
Paula was blow-drying a client’s hair when she heard the chime of the salon door opening. She knew instantly that the two men and a woman were police officers. She also knew they had come to see her even before Jill the receptionist glanced across at her and pointed. The man at the front, the good-looking, black-haired, stocky one, smiled at her and gave her a nod that said: ‘We need a word.’
‘Ella, can you finish off for me, please?’ Paula called the young stylist over whilst she excused herself and walked up to the reception desk. She gave her professional smile.
‘Can I help?’
‘Paula Seymour?’
‘Yes.’
Carter showed his badge. ‘Hello, I’m Detective Inspector Dan Carter, and this is Detective Sergeant Scott Tucker and Detective Constable Ebony Willis. We just need a few minutes of your time. Is there somewhere we can talk?’
‘Yes. I suppose the café next door is the best place.’ She turned to the young stylist. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes, Ella. Okay?’
Paula picked up her coat from behind reception and led the way out and into the coffee house.
Willis went to buy the coffees whilst the others found a private spot to talk. Carter distributed them when she brought them over and then he waited for her to sit down before he took out the letter. Willis took out her notebook. Tucker observed.
‘Thanks for sparing us some time, Paula,’ Carter said. Willis was thinking that Paula Seymour was definitely expecting them. She hadn’t been the least surprised.