by Luca Veste
‘Laura, you take the ground floor, I’ll take the second. Jack, you take the first. Remember, no names mentioned. Just allow them to talk.’
Murphy waited for DC Kirkham to start ascending the stairs before speaking to Rossi in a low voice. ‘If they push, let them know a little bit, but we need to find out exactly what’s been going on in that flat. Finish up quickly and join Jack. I don’t want him screwing anything up.’
Rossi gave a nod and then turned away, knocking on the first door, the sound reverberating around the hallway. If they weren’t already awake, the whole place would be by now, Murphy thought. A minute later, he was on the top floor, walking swiftly over to the door opposite the flat Sam Byrne had rented. The door was opened while he still had a fist in the air, knuckles unused on the wood.
‘Hello, are you them?’ a voice said from within. Murphy looked down, and then down a bit further to locate the voice. A small, mousy-looking woman peered over glasses up at him. ‘We were told you might be knocking.’
Murphy introduced himself, looking past her into the flat for anyone else lurking there. ‘Mind if I come in and have a chat?’
‘You’re not allowed to question me and enter my home if I don’t want you to, or without a caution being read.’
The girl, because that’s what she was really, he thought, was trying to maintain eye contact with him, but was failing. Her hands shook a little as she held the door. Murphy tried to make himself half a foot shorter, but settled for tilting his head and smiling thinly.
‘Nothing to worry about,’ Murphy said, attempting his ‘soft’ voice. ‘Just a few questions about the flat opposite yours, that’s all. Can I come in and explain?’
The woman hesitated, then she opened the door a little further and allowed him to enter. He waited for her to close the door and followed her into the living area. The flat was the same layout as Byrne’s flat opposite, just in reverse. He looked around, widening his eyes in surprise as the expected chaos of student digs failed to materialise.
‘Nice place,’ Murphy said, still trying to allay the woman’s fears. ‘You keep a tidy home.’
‘Flatmate’s room is more what you’d think a student flat would be like,’ she replied, pushing her glasses up her nose. ‘I’d offer you a drink, but I don’t really want to.’
Fair enough, Murphy thought. ‘Not a problem. What’s your name? You still haven’t told me.’
‘Claire,’ she replied, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Just Claire for now.’
‘OK, Claire. As I said, just a few questions and then I’ll let you get on. Mind if we sit?’
Claire hesitated again, biting her bottom lip, before moving over to a sofa and sitting on the far end of it. She motioned to a chair tucked under a small kitchen table on the other side of the room. Murphy moved across and pulled it out. The room wasn’t exactly spacious, but it had been nicely put together: one sofa, a flat-screen television opposite it in the corner of the room. The kitchen area was behind him and seemed clean enough. There was a faint smell of lavender in the room and a healthy-looking potted plant stood on the windowsill. There were a few prints on the walls, but no photographs. He imagined they would be in her own room, the flatmate doing the same. This would be a communal area, purposely kept clear of anything personal.
‘I don’t know anything,’ Claire said, fixing Murphy with a stare. ‘So I don’t know why you need to speak to me.’
‘Let’s not be too hasty, Claire. You don’t know what I’m going to ask yet.’
‘It’s about the flat over the way. As I said, I don’t know anything.’
‘Let’s start at the beginning,’ Murphy said, pulling out a usually unused notepad. ‘How long have you lived here?’
‘A year. Just about to start second term at uni.’
‘Which one?’
Claire’s shoulders relaxed a little. ‘City, up the road.’
‘What are you studying there?’
‘Physics,’ Claire replied, arms now by her side. ‘Very difficult and not for the faint-hearted. I have some studying to do actually, so if we could hurry up . . .’
Murphy held up a hand of acceptance. ‘Where are you from originally?’
‘Preston. Would you like to know what my parents do for a living, or how they met? Maybe you would like to know my grandmother’s shoe size? I don’t see what any of this has to do with why you might be here.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Murphy said, unhappy with how the apology tasted in his mouth. ‘You’ve lived here for a year. Do you know many people in the building?’
‘A few, not many. We tend to keep to ourselves here. Thankfully, the price of the rent keeps away the ones who are at university primarily to test the parameters of their liver functions. We’re a little more studious here. Of course, there’s a few people who aren’t even students.’
‘Was the person who lived in the flat opposite one of them?’
Claire didn’t respond for a few seconds. ‘I didn’t really know him.’
‘But you saw him?’
Another few seconds went by in an uncomfortable silence. ‘I may have done. I didn’t know at the time who he was.’
‘Who do you think he is?’
It was Claire’s turn to tilt her head at Murphy. ‘I think we both know that’s a ridiculous question, Mr Murphy.’
It had been a while since anyone had called him ‘Mr’, thought Murphy, trying not to show his annoyance at the fact she couldn’t even manage to call him detective. ‘How about, just for my sake, you tell me. Just to make sure.’
‘Sam Byrne,’ Claire said, looking away from Murphy and towards the switched-off television. ‘The man standing for MP in the by-election coming up. They say he might win.’
‘I don’t know about that, but we are talking about the same person at least. When was the last time you saw him?’
‘I’m not sure. I hear him out in the hall now and then. A week or so, maybe. I suppose he’s been busy recently. I don’t think he lived here, to be honest. We would only see him every now and again. His post would pile up downstairs in the pigeonhole.’
‘Did you ever speak with him?’ Murphy said, crossing one long leg over the other. ‘Ever borrow a cup of sugar or something?’
‘No, not really,’ Claire replied, ignoring the attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Just a quiet nod if we passed each other out in the hallway. It’s a bit difficult to ignore someone who lives only a few feet away.’
‘So, you’ve never heard anything out of the ordinary there? TV too loud or anything like that?’
Claire thought for a moment, began to speak, then stopped herself.
‘What is it, Claire?’ Murphy said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forwards.
‘Well . . . it’s probably nothing, that’s all. I don’t want to create a problem, or exacerbate an existing situation.’
Exacerbate, Murphy thought. That was a new one. ‘We’re trying to help Sam, that’s all,’ he said, keeping his calm. ‘Any information will be treated with the utmost respect.’
Claire breathed in and pulled on a few strands of her hair. ‘I’ve heard a few things coming from the flat, but I just thought it was a television on too loud, that’s all. Sometimes . . . well, they sounded too real.’
‘What did you hear?’
‘Screams.’
Murphy nodded, but didn’t say anything. He waited for Claire to keep talking.
‘I thought it was just a horror movie, that’s all. There was something else, though. Happened a while ago, so probably has nothing to do with anything.’
‘Go on, Claire,’ Murphy said, trying to keep the eagerness out of his tone. ‘You never know what might be helpful.’
‘Well, this is a few months back now. I came home late from working at the library in uni. The hallway was quiet and I was about to let myself into the flat when his door opened. A girl came out crying, really quietly but it was loud enough for me to hear her. He came out and shepherded her back inside
and just gave me a look, as if he was apologising. I just put it down to an argument or something.’
‘You don’t seem certain about that.’
Claire shook her head and seemed less sure about what she was saying. ‘I don’t know. There was something about the whole situation I didn’t like.’
‘What was it?’
‘It was like . . . It was as if she didn’t want to be there and he was making sure she wouldn’t leave. He didn’t drag her back in or anything like that. It was just a feeling. I wanted to say something, but didn’t think it was my place, especially if I was wrong.’
Murphy finished writing and considered Claire’s words again. Looked up at the young woman and tried to make sense of what she’d told him.
Eleven
A few minutes after Claire had told him about hearing screams and a crying girl in the hallway, Murphy was saying goodbye and leaving his card. There was patently nothing else she was willing to say, which made things a little more difficult. Just another piece in what was becoming an ever more complicated jigsaw.
Murphy made his way to the other neighbouring flat, knocked a few times, then slid a contact notice under the door when there was no answer. The flat was on the same side as Claire’s had been, so he wasn’t expecting much more from the occupant. It was another item which needed ticking off the list, however.
‘How are you getting on?’ Murphy said, joining DC Kirkham on the floor below as the younger man exited the last flat. ‘Anything useful?’
‘Not really,’ DC Kirkham said, flipping open his notepad. ‘Bloke in number five works nights and was just pissed off I woke him up. Wasn’t much help at all really. Couple in number four were on their way out the door to a lecture. Both studying history, both originally from Manchester, both had no contact with the person who lives in that flat upstairs. No answer from number six.’
‘Did you get all their names?’
‘Of course,’ Kirkham replied, eager rather than annoyed. ‘Although number five refused to give me a surname. Didn’t matter, as I spotted it on an envelope on the way out. He didn’t know anything really, but does remember seeing Byrne last week sometime. Couldn’t be sure of the date.’
‘The couple hadn’t seen him either?’
‘George – that’s the tall one according to my notes – remembers seeing someone he didn’t recognise one day going up the stairs ahead of him. He wasn’t sure if it was someone who was visiting at first, but then he saw him picking up post from the pigeonhole downstairs another time. Didn’t get a good look at him, so wasn’t sure who he was. James – the short one, obviously – he has never seen him at all, but now knows all about it, of course. Has hundreds of followers on Twitter and Instagram apparently. Not sure why he felt the need to tell me that . . .’
‘Right, good,’ Murphy said, making his way down to the bottom level. ‘Not about it being all over social media, of course, but at least we have a general framework to work with. I want you to go back to the station and start writing that up and we’ll meet you back there. Get Graham to look at CCTV in the area and pull everything for the past seven days. Tell him to be prepared to go back further. We’re working on a theory that he went missing Thursday night, as that’s the last time anyone saw him, but we need a complete picture of his movements around here in the days leading up to it and after.’
‘Yes, sir,’ DC Kirkham said, putting away his notepad and standing up straight. ‘Anything else?’
Murphy shook his head and watched him leave. In the time he’d spent talking to Claire, the young detective constable had visited three places. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. He dithered for a second, unable to decide between waiting for Rossi in the car or in the lobby of the building. He settled for the latter.
‘I miss uni,’ Rossi said, closing the door of flat number three behind her. ‘The hours, damn I miss those hours.’
Murphy checked his watch. Only seven minutes waiting. Not bad. His patience was getting better. ‘Anything?’
‘Not much,’ Rossi said, following Murphy out of the building and onto the street. She waited for him to open the car and climbed inside before continuing. ‘Flat one was out. Flat two wouldn’t put his phone down long enough to speak to me, even after I asked nicely. So I asked not so nicely and he told me he knew who Sam Byrne was and that he had seen him in the building on a few occasions. Thought he was just visiting someone, though. An old friend or something, he thought. I think he’s the one who has been talking nonstop online about our activities here. A uniform has tipped him the wink. The residents were milling about last night in the hallways, while forensics were doing their job, so one of them must have known Sam stayed in the flat.’
‘That’ll be flat seven – Claire. Lives opposite Sam’s place. I spoke to her.’
‘Right,’ Rossi said, waiting a few seconds to see if Murphy was going to continue, but he kept quiet for now. ‘Flat three didn’t know a thing, but I don’t think they’d notice anything happening from any distance further than the end of their noses. No idea what they’re doing at university. Can’t see that ending well for them. Thick as bloody pig . . .’
Murphy waited for Rossi to finish ranting, which took a while as she went from speaking English to Italian halfway through a sentence.
‘There’s not enough to go on,’ Rossi said, once she’d finished. ‘Byrne’s missing under suspicious circumstances, but I don’t see a threat to life here. Unless you got any more on your floor?’
Murphy told Rossi what he’d learned from Claire, throwing in DC Kirkham’s results as he did so. Once he’d finished, they both sat in the car watching the forensic officers exit the building, packing up their white van.
‘Think they’ll have the answer?’ Rossi said, turning towards Murphy.
He thought for a second and then shrugged his shoulders. ‘No idea. I’m still not sure what’s going on here. Everything points to something happening to him, but we don’t have a single concrete idea what that could be.’
‘We were told about this less than twenty-four hours ago, so maybe we’re just not seeing it yet.’
Murphy murmured an agreement, lifting the radio out of its cradle as it crackled to life. DCI Stephens’s voice filled the car, making Rossi reach across and turn down the volume a little.
‘David, is Laura with you?’
‘I am,’ Rossi said, her brow creasing as she frowned at the mention of her name. ‘Everything OK?’
‘Yeah, just wanted to make sure. I want to let you both know that DSI Butler will be making a public statement regarding Sam Byrne in the next thirty minutes. Couple of the broadsheets have taken an interest in his disappearance, so a discussion has been had with the parents. They’ll be releasing their own statement at the same time. I guess we can’t keep things quiet very long in the current climate.’
‘I hope you know it was none of us that released this info,’ Murphy said, hoping the edge to his voice was coming across on the radio. ‘We kept it as quiet as possible.’
‘I know that, David. It was never going to be a secret once we got involved. That’s the nature of things, no matter what some people think.’
Murphy mouthed the word ‘Butler’ towards Rossi who rolled her eyes in response.
‘How are you getting on at this flat he rented?’
Murphy updated her on the morning’s activity. ‘Here’s Jack now,’ DCI Stephens interrupted as Murphy summarised DC Kirkham’s interview highlights. ‘He has his determined look on,’ she said.
‘I gave him a couple of tasks to sort out,’ Murphy said, glancing at Rossi who was already staring out the side window at nothing in particular. ‘Listen, is there anything we’re not aware of here? We’ve found certain things at this flat, which don’t exactly match up with what we know about Byrne so far. Anything that’ll surprise us down the line that we could be told about now?’
There wasn’t an immediate answer, just radio silence, which made Rossi turn her hea
d a little. Finally, DCI Stephens spoke.
‘Let’s talk more later. Nothing to worry about at the moment. Just keep on with what you’re doing for now.’
She finished the call, leaving Murphy with a quizzical look on his face.
‘A flat he tries to hide,’ Murphy said, extending a hand and ticking off items with a finger. ‘Which doesn’t look lived in, with a bedroom that looks like a torture chamber, complete with blood and whatever else stains. A neighbour who has heard screams and seen crying women in the hallway. Yet, he’s the one that’s reported missing. It’s four days before we’re brought into it. He’s in the public eye, possibly about to become a Member of Parliament. His car disappears but nothing else. Except maybe his laptop. What the hell is going on here?’
Rossi shaped as if to answer, then stopped herself. Murphy waited, one hand now on the steering wheel.
‘My best guess?’
‘Go on,’ Murphy said, wondering if hers matched his at all. ‘I’m all ears.’
‘This was a place he didn’t want anyone finding out about. He was doing something here. This wasn’t a one-off thing, he’s had this flat a while. He’s in the public eye now, so he’s kept it hidden, but something drove him back here. I’m thinking someone found out about it and what he does.’
‘And that’ll be what is key here,’ Murphy said, finishing the thought. ‘Finding out what he does here and why. Then we’ll be getting somewhere.’
Thirty minutes later, they were back at the station, gathering the few officers and detectives who had found themselves attached to the case. Murphy watched the television on the wall as DSI Butler gave his statement live on the news channel.
‘All our efforts are being directed towards finding Sam Byrne safe and unharmed . . .’
‘Talk about an overestimation on numbers,’ Murphy said, his voice almost a whisper as he talked to himself. ‘We barely have half a dozen people on this.’
‘It’s hardly a big case, though,’ DC Hale said, sidling closer to Murphy. ‘Some bloke who has gone missing, that’s all.’
‘Which is why we have our DSI giving statements from his ivory tower and a MCU working the case?’