“Well, there is actually, but we don’t need to concern ourselves with that at the moment. You had been drinking in a local pub?” She was confident about what it was she was looking for. In the first moments after she had woken, Tanya had seen what it was that had been nibbling away at the back of her mind. She had a flashback to Edinburgh, the dark, wet night, Iain Laithwaite, waiting to meet his contact to collect more drugs, and then just before he walked back to the main road, having a pee in the entryway. Both things were a reason for a man to step into the darkness.
“Why didn’t you use the gents in the pub? It’s only around the corner, a few minutes away?”
Stone stared at her in silence, she saw a faint flush on his throat and bit back a smile. “I didn’t think I needed to. Then I realised I’d... erm... made a misjudgement.”
Tanya glanced at Charlie, he shook his head. “Not very nice though, out in the cold?”
“Look, I didn’t know it was illegal. If that’s your problem, just fine me or whatever. Christ, last time I try and help you people out.”
Tanya ignored the outburst and picked up a sheet of paper from the file. “You said that you saw someone in the other end of the alley. Were you aware of smoke at that time, the smell of burning?”
“No, there was nothing. There was nothing when I was there. I hope you’re not suggesting I had anything to do with that, are you? Anything to do with that fire?”
“Why would you think that?” Tanya said.
“Well, all this about me being there, dragging me down here again. I want a lawyer.”
“Really?”
“Well, if you’re suggesting I started that fire, yes. I heard somebody died.”
“I didn’t suggest you had anything to do with the fire. Did you hear me suggest that, Detective Inspector Lambert?”
“No, boss.” Charlie hadn’t needed to use the title, it was for show. Tanya smiled at him.
“Well, what is it about then?” Stone said.
She had unnerved him, all the cockiness had gone, he was defensive and nervous; his leg jiggled again. Tanya spoke quietly, “You said you saw someone in the alley?”
“Yes, the homeless guy.”
“How do you know?”
“What?”
“How do you know it was a homeless man? You don’t live in the area, we have your address here and it’s quite some way away.”
“Well, I just thought it was probably one of them. They are always knocking around there. The church there gives out free coffee, it attracts them.”
“Did you see if he had anything with him?”
“What sort of thing?”
“A bag perhaps, something like that?”
“No, I didn’t look that closely, I wasn’t interested in him. He was just on his own, going off round the corner.”
“So, you didn’t score.”
“What?”
“You didn’t go into the alley to meet someone to buy some drugs? You didn’t go further down, maybe as far as the warehouse? You didn’t have an appointment with anyone?”
“No. Look that’s enough. I don’t want to answer any more of your questions. I’ve had it. This is entrapment or something.”
“You’re free to go at any time, Mr Stone.”
“Right, I’m off. I’m not going to come in again, not without my solicitor.”
“Thank you. We’ve noted that.” As the door slammed behind him and Charlie made the commentary for the recording, Tanya shuffled the papers together and slid them back into the folder. “Hmm, that got him riled, didn’t it?” she said.
Charlie nodded. “So, he didn’t see Colin the Cartman, he made it up?”
“No, I think he saw someone. Maybe it was his dealer. Of course, he couldn’t risk putting us onto them and presumably just remembered about Colin – that he was often in the alley – and saw it as a way out without incriminating himself. Hmm, it does make you wonder. Do you see him killing someone? Was he so worried that he chased Colin? I don’t like him, not at all, but I don’t know whether I see him as a killer. And that would open up the possibility that there are two murderers. I mean if he had been in the warehouse, the timings are off on the CCTV. So, was Colin in the warehouse?” She screwed up her face. “Hasn’t helped all that much, has it? Why didn’t Colin come to us? Why run?”
“So, we don’t think Stone had anything to do with the fire?” Charlie said.
“Hmm, not sure. I don’t think we should rule it out, to be honest. I see three possible explanations: he is innocent and was genuinely caught short, he was there to score, in which case what happened? Or, he was up to something else. Nobody else was seen on the CCTV; could be there’s a lot he’s not telling us and he’s in this up to his skinny little neck.”
Tanya glanced at her watch and gathered up her phone and bag.
“Anyway, I’m off to the morgue now, and then if Kate has got it sorted we need to go and look at what I hope will turn out to be Suzanne Roper’s flat. I’m seeing the DCI later, hopefully I’ll have some news for him by then.”
They turned to leave. In the corridor Tanya handed the file to Charlie. “Could you have a word with uniform, see what drug dealers they know about in the area? And set up a meet with Alan Parker, will you? As soon as possible. I need to talk to him, I know you did the interview, but I’d like to meet him myself. It seems right.”
Kate was waiting in the corridor, papers in her hand and a grin on her face. “Walk with me, Kate. I’m pressed for time. What have you got?”
“Susan Roper, tenancy. She has been there just over a year. They saw bank statements and set up a direct debit for rental payments. Apparently, they are supposed to have a photo ID for tenants, but I rather got the impression that if there’s money up front they let some stuff slide. They saw utility bills from her last address. I guess that was the shared house. Anyway, she’s paid the rent regularly and on the one check they did, the flat was clean and well kept, so they haven’t bothered much since.”
“Right, soon as this is done we’ll get over there. You, me, and Charlie,” Tanya said.
Chapter 48
Gowned and booted, Tanya joined the small group clustered beside the cutting table. Simon and his assistant, an obviously apprehensive student who was observing, and a photographer. Colin was already laid out with a cloth covering his genitals. He had been washed and was probably the cleanest he’d been in years. His long hair, still a bit matted, was pulled away from the grey face and bundled like a small dead animal at the top of his head. They had shaved his long beard and without the facial hair he looked younger, more vulnerable.
She hadn’t attended a huge number of post-mortems, but they never bothered her. Once the examination started, Tanya would experience a sense of excitement as the chance of discovery filled her mind. It wasn’t that she forgot it was a human corpse, just that she needed what it could tell her so that the death could make some sort of sense. A puzzle to be completed. She had never told anyone this, knew it made her seem hard and unfeeling. People expected something different, especially from a woman.
Simon stepped forward and paused for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly and gave a small nod. Tanya had seen him do this before. Today it moved her. They hadn’t yet found out where Colin was from or how long he had slept on the streets. She could imagine that the last years, pushing his trolley full of junk, he had been harassed, ridiculed or avoided. Now, when it was all too late, Dr Hewitt was paying him respect. She was surprised to feel the swell of tears in the back of her eyes and blinked them away. This was not the time to start becoming soppy.
The post-mortem examination confirmed what they had all known to be true. Undernourished, scarred by various old wounds, and dead from suffocation. Simon switched off the recording and raised his eyes to look at Tanya.
“I’ll be putting this in my report but, just so that you know, he didn’t die from sniffing the glue, and there is no evidence at all of long-term substance abuse. He may have had
a difficult and somewhat unhealthy existence, but he wasn’t a drug user and certainly not a huffer. There is no rash around his nose and mouth, no specific damage to his heart and the damage to his lungs is, I would say, from long-term tobacco smoking, not inhalant abuse.”
He continued his work and once Colin had been sliced and dissected, his organs removed and retained in preserving fluid, they left the assistant to replace what they could and sew him back together.
He would be kept for a while in the quiet chill of his drawer, the tag on his toe bearing just his given name and a number. If indeed that was the name chosen for him when he was born. They would try and trace someone to claim him, someone to mourn him, but the chances were slim.
Back in the morgue office, Tanya refused a cup of coffee but took a moment to chat with Simon under the watchful eye of his assistant. There was no mention of a drink away from work. No flirtation. It had all been a flight of fancy by Sue Rollinson and Tanya felt a hint of disappointment. She didn’t want a relationship, didn’t need that complication in her life, but it would have been nice to think someone looked at her that way. Sue was right, Simon Hewitt was pretty tasty. Tall, good-looking, dark brown hair and grey eyes with just the beginnings of laughter lines fanning out from the corners. She wouldn’t mind being seen out with him, if she went out that is, and if she went out with anyone, which she didn’t.
She picked up her bag, held out her hand. “Thanks so much, Dr Hewitt.”
“Please. Simon. I thought we’d agreed.” He smiled at her. Yes, pretty tasty. She felt a warm flush begin to creep up her neck. Stop it, you idiot.
“So, someone held the bag over his head then.” It was a bloody obvious thing to say, and it was on the verge of gabbling to fill the quiet.
“Oh yes, the marks on his neck are pretty conclusive. The blisters on his feet were interesting, weren’t they?”
“Yes, he spent his days walking the streets and now he gets blisters on his heels. I reckon he suddenly decided to walk further and faster than he had for a long time. Where from though? And was the place we found him his destination or was he just getting away? That’s what I need to find out now.”
“Good luck, Tanya. I hope you can find some family, it would be nice to see him have a proper send-off.”
They both knew it was unlikely. Tanya left the morgue to where a pool car and driver was waiting for her, feeling depressed and unable to decide how much of it was because of Colin and how much because she had hoped vaguely that there had been something behind the silly idea that Simon Hewitt fancied her.
Chapter 49
By the time she was driven into the car park, Kate Lewis and Charlie were outside waiting. It had begun to rain again: cold September drizzle; and the sky was grey and heavy looking. They huddled in the meagre cover of the entrance.
“Where is everyone?” Tanya asked.
“Sue and Dan are back out trying to find people who knew Colin. Just in case. Paul is in the office collating what we’ve got so far, including the search at the river. They’ve come up with nothing much yet, by the way, and he’s complaining about it. Said he thought Kate was supposed to do all that, thought it wasn’t his job,” Charlie reported.
“Did he? Well, maybe I should put him right. Anyway, Kate, let’s go over what you got from the agent.”
“Yes, ma’am. I have copies of bank statements that are the same account as the one from my Zumba mate. A tenancy agreement in the name of Suzanne Roper. As we suspected, they cut some corners it has to be said. No photo ID but apparently she had enough to pay the deposit, plus a month’s rent in advance. She showed them three month’s statements and the bank account is healthy, so they went with it. Nobody in that office remembers talking to her, they think it must have been weekend staff. So they couldn’t confirm anything from the picture, which is a bit of a bugger for them if the owners get upset about police all over the property. I have to say they were looking a bit sick when I left. Did my heart good, it did.”
It was already after three o’clock and Tanya had an appointment with Bob Scunthorpe in less than an hour. It wasn’t going to work. She hated doing it but told them to go without her.
“We don’t have a warrant so let’s just see what we can find out. Speak to the neighbours. The main thing is to make sure it’s not some other bloody Suzanne. I’ll mention it to the DCI now and see if we can gain access tonight, assuming it’s hers. Though…” She glanced at her watch again. “It’s getting late. Look, let’s just get on with it and I’ll do what I can at this end. If this is her home, then we need to be in there. Keep me informed.”
Of course they couldn’t. She would have to turn her phone off while she was in her meeting and as soon as they disappeared into the gloomy distance she wished she’d made them wait. They could have done. It was seeing them standing in the inadequate shelter, rain dripping onto Charlie’s shoulder that had made her send them off. Her judgement was slipping, her arm was throbbing again. She felt irritable and dissatisfied.
She refused a seat and the offer of coffee in the DCI’s office, hoping that he would pick up that she would much rather get back to investigating the case, than talk about it. As soon as it was possible she asked him about the search warrant for the flat. But there was little he could do right then. They needed definite proof of the tenancy before they could make their request. She struggled to hold her impatience in check, how could she get that standing in his office with her phone turned off?
She filled him in with the report from the post-mortem, her plans to visit Alan Parker again and that she wanted another go at Freddy Stone.
“Do you think he’s a person of interest?” the detective chief inspector asked.
“There’s something off about his story, but there’s nothing concrete right now.”
They both knew they were achieving very little with the meeting and Tanya was dismissed with a promise that as soon as she had enough proof the flat belonged to their victim, he would get her a warrant.
Tanya stormed down the corridor to the incident room. She pushed open the door, yelled for Paul to follow her and launched herself at the stairs, speaking back at him as he ran to catch up. “We’re using your car, I can’t drive with this bloody arm.”
“Yes, ma’am. Where are we off to?”
"DI Lambert and Kate Lewis are looking at a flat, could be Roper’s. We’re going to join them and we’re going to have a good old root around. We’re going to find something to link the victim to the warehouse, and the alley and, please God, Freddy Stone. And we’re going to move this thing on before it gets stuck any further, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Tanya stopped outside the door. “Right you go and bring your car, hurry up.”
As her sergeant ran through the puddles, soaking his suit pants, water sploshing into his shoes, she stood under the portico and dialled Charlie’s number. She grinned as she heard Paul cursing the rain, the puddles and ‘the pigging, bloody British weather.’
Chapter 50
“What have you got for me, Charlie?” As she clambered into the car, struggling with the seat belt, bag, phone and the restricted movement of her injured arm, Tanya was taken aback as Paul Harris leaned over her, grabbed the buckle and clicked it into the housing. She looked at him, her eyes wide, and stopped mid-sentence. He blushed to the roots of his hair.
“Sorry, sorry, ma’am. I do it for the wife, she’s always on the bloody phone and forgets. Shit, sorry.”
Tanya was at a loss, it hadn’t annoyed so much as shocked her. The sight of the normally blokey detective sergeant flustered and embarrassed was hilarious. But he’d been out of line. Of course, it had been a momentary lapse. She could just let it go. But this was Paul Harris, famous for ‘laddish’ behaviour. If she let it go, then would this grow to become something other than it had been. Surely not. Shit, what next.
“We’ll talk about this later. Just drive out of this bloody car park, will you?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am – sorry.”
Tanya shook her head. “Right, Charlie can you repeat that?”
“Neighbours have confirmed that the image we’ve shown them looks like the tenant of this flat. We’ve had no response to Kate hammering on the door, and believe me, when Kate hammers on a door you know about it.” She heard them both laughing.
“Right. We’re on our way, I’ll get back to the DCI, ask him to move on with the warrant. With what we’ve got from the agents and now this, we should be okay.”
* * *
The apartment was in a decent area in North Oxford, near to Cutteslowe Park. There was a cluster of similar blocks and newish houses in the surrounding roads, all well-kept. Although Tanya loved her house in the older part of the city, she reckoned that this would not have been a bad place to live. According to Kate the rent was quite a bit over a thousand pounds a month for a furnished two bedroomed place. They stood outside in the rain staring up at the small balcony where a pot of marigolds and petunias were just starting to look past their best.
Tanya had used the journey time to contact the detective chief inspector who was organising the search warrant. Paul Harris had driven in silence and joined the others in a subdued mood. Charlie frowned at him and glanced at Tanya who shook her head, mouthed ‘later’ but couldn’t resist a grin.
“Kate, get on to the agents. Get someone out here with a key. With a bit of luck, the warrant’ll be approved by the time they arrive.”
The manager of the agency huffed and fussed and complained about the time, but when Kate suggested they may have to break down the door if they didn’t have a key, she found a way to make it work.
Waiting for the warrant was frustrating, and there wasn’t much they could usefully do until permission to enter was approved. They had a word with the immediate neighbours who told them that the woman living on the same landing was quiet, kept herself to herself, and didn’t have many visitors. All useless and bland.
It was raining heavily by the time they walked back outside, and they ended up sitting in Charlie’s car, steaming up the windows, sharing a bag of mints and going over things that they all knew already.
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