Lucy Spires – The Blind Detective

by Peter Hamilton

  As they drove to police headquarters, they went through the previous day’s successful outcome. Lucy Spires felt DC Emma Harper was learning a lot from this case and would long term be an excellent detective, although she all too often talked about her now long-term boyfriend and how she would love to marry him and have several children. Lucy Spires thought about her marriage and how she was committed to detective work. She realised in her youth, DC Emma Harper should enjoy her life, as when she got older things would change for her.

  The two women went into the main Major Crime office. Detective Chief Inspector Toby Butler was in his office and gestured to DC Emma Harper to come into his office. They came in and closed the door.

  “Well ladies,” he started. “Last night was a result. The intel on Richard Edward Garner is coming in.” Lucy Spires heard a rustle of paper. “Brought up by his mother, an only child, she passed away when the young Garner was sixteen years old. Interestingly no name given on his birth certificate for his father. Unmarried he lived in several council rented properties as he grew up, went to several schools, was an average student, has worked as a driver for a few companies. This is the longest time in his current job, and he has no criminal record. Never been on our radar. Has a small amount of money in his bank, one credit card with an outstanding forty-pound debt. Has lived in the same rented council house for the last six years, with his rent paid up to date. The CPS are a bit reluctant to go further as we have no other evidence to go on.”

  He went on, “If he is our killer, we have a duty to stop him. I’ve got a team on him now. He’s under observation twenty-four hours. I’ve been given the okay to do whatever it takes to catch this man. I just worry in case we’ve got the wrong man and we use up resources badly.” He paused. Lucy heard him take a drink; she could smell coffee.

  “Toby,” said Lucy Spires. “We have nothing else to go on, we might as well give this our attention. Plus, I know we have something here. Watching this man will not break our bank and as you said, we have a duty to catch this killer. Sooner or later, we will have the proof.” Lucy Spires left it there.

  Chapter 9

  The following week, the surveillance team had very little to report. Monday and Tuesday, the person of interest Richard Edward Garner started work at six-thirty am and delivered tyres all over the North and got back to the ‘Shopwells Tyre’ depot around 4 pm both days. On Wednesday, he started at 10 am as he would stay overnight for early deliveries the following day. They followed his lorry through the deliveries he made during the day. He eventually ended his driving at a main motorway services lorry park for the night. The team tailing him watched his lorry all through the night. He only left the vehicle twice, once at seven pm to have a bite to eat, then just after midnight he went for a shower. The team checked his lorry every few hours. They could hear music and a light was on in his cab part of the lorry, although they couldn’t see inside as it was too high.

  Meanwhile, at midnight, around six miles away, behind an established retail park, a small, blond woman watched as a dark motorcycle pulled near her and stopped. A man wearing leather trousers and jacket pulled it onto its stand. He slowly walked over and she half smiled. He had been several times to her in the last few months. She knew what he liked. As he neared, she saw the familiar way his leather trousers seemed to become loose around his waist. He stopped walking, so she took a few more steps toward him. Within a few seconds, he put on his condom. She knelt in front of him and he pushed his erect condom covered penis into her mouth. She rocked her head forward and back and she squeezed her jaws gently together. The sooner this was over, the better.

  A few seconds later, she felt his body shudder as he climaxed. He had his gloved hands gently on the sides of her head. In a seamless movement, he moved his hands to the front of her neck. In an instant he was holding her in a grip she couldn’t move away from. The grip was so strong she could feel she was almost lifted off the cold ground. She passed out in a very short time. Death followed soon after. The same routine was followed; trousers carefully pulled back up, condom still on his erect penis, careful to leave no trace of any fluids, nothing to point to her killer. She was moved and placed on her knees. Trophy earrings were taken. A last look at this woman; one less prostitute was on this earth, he thought as he mounted his motorcycle. He silently slipped away. He didn’t start the engine until he was some distance away. He was a ghost, a shadow. He would never be caught as he was too clever. He had the power of life and death in his hands. He had done his research for the last few years. He had removed scum from this earth. He had started on his mission and would never stop until they were all gone.

  The following morning, he left the motorway services at just a few minutes after six am. He completed his first delivery at six-fort-five, then through to his last delivery around three-thirty pm then back to the depot. The following week followed the same pattern. Luckily, no-one was found unlawfully killed.

  The following week started as the week before. Monday, a usual day; Tuesday, the same. Wednesday, the same start as the week before; he started work around 10am, the lorry laden with stock to be delivered. The pattern was a similar one to the previous week. Late afternoon, he again parked his lorry in a different motorway service station, at the far end of the lorry park. The two plain-clothed detectives were parked in the car area. They parked so they could see if the suspect lorry moved. They observed the driver going for a meal around six, returning to his vehicle a half an hour later. He remained there until he went for a shower at one am. Both undercover officers thought this a strange time and followed him into the motorway service area. He asked the attendant in the retail shop for the key to the shower room.

  Strangely, he asked the attendant, “Do you have an idea of the time?”

  The young foreign attendant said it was one twenty-five am and pointed to a clock on a wall above and behind him. He went into the shower; about twenty-five minutes later, he was seen walking back to his lorry. The two undercover officers saw him enter his lorry. He didn’t leave until six am. They began to follow him on his deliveries, a normal start to the day.

  At seven forty-five, Lucy Spires was sitting, ready to be collected by DC Emma Harper when her phone began to ring. “Lucy.” It was Detective Chief Inspector Toby Butler. “I’m afraid we’ve been looking at the wrong man. There was another crime last night. Another woman unlawfully killed. The same way. Initial reports suggest the same as all the others. I haven’t been able to contact our Chief Constable to update him. He won’t be happy.” Lucy Spires’ heart sank.

  “Toby,” she said. “Where did this happen? Do we have a time of death?”

  “It’s Ward Valley Retail Park, and preliminary time of death is between midnight and one am. A female, mid-twenties. Forensics said they found the victim kneeling in a similar position as previous victims, earrings taken post mortem. Looks like we’re back to square bloody one!” came the reply.

  Lucy Spires was lost for words. Toby Butler ended the call. A knock on her door brought her back to her senses. She opened it to hear the familiar voice of DC Emma Harper.

  “On my way here. Butler rang me with the news. He said he was going to ring you after me,” said DC Emma Harper.

  “Yes, I’ve just taken his call. Emma I was sure we had the right man. His profile fitted, the timing of him in the area fits. Too many right things for it not to be this man.”

  The two women set off for police headquarters. Lucy Spires’ brain was working overtime. When they arrived at police headquarters, just going over the familiar speed humps entering the car park, Lucy Spires asked DC Emma Harper to stop as soon as she could. She needed a minute to go through things in her mind. The car came to a slow stop. DC Emma Harper didn’t say a word and tried to breathe quietly.

  After a minute of silence, DC Emma Harper took a short, sharp breath and said, “Lucy, we have a briefing with DCI Butler in less than ten minutes. We can’t be late for that or I’ll be back on foot patrol.” With that she
opened her door, went to the other side of the car and helped Lucy Spires out and toward the building. Lucy Spires’ head was still spinning.

  There were a lot of voices Lucy Spires could hear as they neared the meeting room. Too many voices to pick up an individual conversation. As the two women entered the room, Chief Constable James Ingram strode in just after them. Lucy Spires could tell it was him by his aftershave. He moved to the front of the room, standing next to detective Chief Inspector Toby Butler. It was the Chief Inspector who spoke.

  “Team, we now have what appears to be our eighth unlawful killing. Our latest victim’s identity is still to be confirmed. No finger print info. I guess there is no police record. No ID on our victim either. She’s been taken to Queen Ann’s hospital for a PM later today. It looks like our only suspect is not our killer. The team trailing him, DC Vicki Wallace and DC David Evans, sat with the lorry all last night. Our man had a bite to eat around six, then went for a shower at one am. His vehicle was parked up and remained there all night. We have to start again. We identified one suspect, we need to re-apply ourselves and find this offender before he does it again!”

  Chief Constable James Ingram coughed to clear his throat and spoke quite calmly and quietly. “I know this has been a difficult case, with leads hard to dig up. I, as well as you all did a few weeks ago, thought we had our man. He fitted what we were looking for, right place, right dates. I personally never believe in coincidences. I look for facts, facts that cannot be questioned in any court. I need every member of this team to look at every detail again and again to find me this cowardly killer and bring a guilty verdict from a high court judge. Leave no stone unturned. DCI Butler and I are open to any ideas you may have, any avenues we should go down. I really feel we have a super team who will bring this case to book. I’ll leave it there. My door is always open.” With that he nodded at Detective Chief Inspector Toby Butler to follow him. They left to discuss this further in his office, one floor above.

  Lucy Spires was shown to her usual desk. She could feel the sunshine through the window She didn’t realise she was tapping her pen on her desk. Gradually voices faded away at the constant beat of pen on wood and the room became very quiet. Lucy Spires was going through details in her head repeatedly. DC Phil Henderson walked over to her and gently held her tapping hand, so she would stop. She knew it was DC Phil Henderson as he had his own unique smell.

  “Lucy,” he said, “what’s going through your mind?”

  Lucy Spires moved in her chair. Her posture was very straight. “Guys, I still feel our lorry driver, Richard Edward Garner, is our man. The leg work, the dates, the timing, are too coincidental to be anyone else.” She paused for a few seconds. “Are Vicki Wallace or David Evans here?” she asked. DC Phil Henderson answered they had worked the nightshift, so had gone home to catch a few hours’ sleep. Both would be into work early this afternoon.

  During the next few hours, Lucy Spires sat quietly, trying to work out what she had missed. Had she really wanted it to be this Tyre delivery driver? Dismissing any other evidence along the way which would have meant a poor woman would still be alive today. A warm coffee was placed in her hand, the first for over two hours. DC Emma Harper had got some food from headquarters canteen; it was a cold tasteless sandwich. Lucy Spires hadn’t realised she hadn’t eaten for several hours. After forcing the food down, a not too familiar voice neared her.

  “Lucy,” said DC David Evans in his soft Welsh accent. "Did you want me? Phil Henderson said you had a few questions. Lucy Spires asked him to go through details of the previous day, from the time they picked him up in the afternoon, up until they left him this morning. She knew DC David Evans was a stickler for detail. He went through his notes. He started detailing from his note pad.

  “My shift started at five forty-five pm, I met the day shift team, who watched his activities from when he started work around ten am. We met at Three Wood motorway services, Northbound carriageway at five pm. The target Lorry was parked at the far end of the lorry park area. There were no other vehicles parked nearby. We parked our unmarked police car at an excellent vantage point to observe the target lorry.” He went on, now with an audience of the rest of the team listening in, in case they picked up anything missed.

  He continued, “I was joined by DC Vicki Wallace to give me back up support. A little after five-fifteen pm, we observed our target leaving the lorry, walking to a busy service area, buying a meal, eating it; then he bought a bottle of still water, slowly drinking the water as he walked back to the lorry. Not to alert him he was under surveillance, we waited until nightfall. We discreetly took turns to look around his lorry. There were sounds of either music or a television in the lorry cab. We couldn’t see in as it was too high and he had drawn the cab curtains for his privacy.” The room was now in total silence. DC David Evans looked around, the familiar faces hanging on his words. "The lorry never budged. At six minutes past one, our target walked across to the now quiet services. We saw him walking across, and myself and Vicki Wallace got into the area first. He went straight to the retail shop and asked the attendant for a shower key.

  “From there he went to the ‘Male’ toilets, walked into a cubicle, locked it, but I heard him have a pee! The whole toilet block was empty. He didn’t need to go in there. He didn’t see me as I was around a corner from him, but I clearly heard him. A few minutes later, he had a shower for fifteen minutes, and came out wearing a different coloured T shirt. He must have changed into fresh clothes after his shower. A couple of things to note. He asked the shop attendant for the time and yet he was wearing a watch on his left wrist. It confused me, also I would have thought he would need a drink as he bought his last one around six pm, however he purchased nothing when he went for his shower. He walked back to his lorry. I’m sure he was whistling while he walked. We couldn’t get too close as he may have seen me and DC Wallace. At six am, his lorry started up and a minute or so later, he went on his way to start deliveries.” He paused after that. Lucy Spires thought the team were about to applaud him on his detailed account of his observations.

  Lucy Spires considered his words for a minute. “Dave,” she said, “why on earth would you ask what time it was when you already wore a watch?”

  He came straight back with, “Well Ma’am, sorry I mean Lucy, I thought that strange, but then thought his watch battery had gone, or he’d damaged his watch and it was broken, or had fallen asleep, woke up and felt he needed a wash. It seemed an odd time to have a shower, at one am.” Lucy Spires again collected her thoughts.

  “I agree, a shower at that time of night is hard to explain, but my biggest query is why he just didn’t urinate in the stand-up male urinals. Why did he feel the need to use a locked toilet cubicle?” The noise in the room began to rise as everyone returned to what they were doing before DC David Evans came in. Lucy Spires felt she was missing something. What, she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  A few minutes later, Detective Chief Inspector Toby Butler came into the busy room. He stood near his office door.

  “Everyone,” he said in a loud voice, again. “Everyone. We have a name for our victim of this morning’s unlawful killing” He lifted up a piece of paper nearer his nose. “Miss Gillian Hepple, twenty-nine years old. No previous, but on a drug rehabilitation programme, a regular class one drug user. Her next of kin, her brother Stephen Hepple, informed us she lost an aunty who brought her up as her parents split up when she was seven. Both parents didn’t want her, so her aunt took her and her brother in. Reported her missing at eight am this morning. Positive ID at one-thirty this afternoon. Her life was taken between midnight and one am, in the same way as the other victims, strangled while on her knees. Again, the home office pathologist feels the position she was in means, in his opinion, that she was performing oral sex. There was evidence of intercourse. Semen samples were sent off to the lab for possible identification and a high level of drugs were in her system. Any questions, my door is open.” With that h
e turned around. Lucy Spires heard the door swish open and its occupant heave a loud sigh as he slumped into his chair.

  “Emma,” said Lucy Spires, “Where are you?”

  With that DC Emma Harper was at her side. She put her hand on her arm. “I have to see Butler now!” she said as she stood up. DC Emma Harper guided Lucy Spires to the entrance of his office door.

  “Sir, do you have a minute?” asked DC Emma Harper. He gestured for the two to enter. Lucy Spires stood in front of his desk.

  “Toby, too many questions, no answers, but hear me out. Last night, why did our suspect target park so far away from the entrance to the motorway services. It was a cool night and he could have parked twenty yards away. Instead he must have been around four hundred yards, if our two detectives could see him get out of his lorry, go towards the shop, leave their car and still get inside before him. Why park there when the lorry park was sparsely busy? Point two, why use a cubicle? Unless he was hiding something. Point three, why a shower at the early hours of the morning. You would have a shower when you’ve been asleep to freshen you up. Point four, why ask a shop assistant for the time when a clock is clearly visible on a wall in front of you and you are wearing a bloody watch. Unless you want the assistant to remember you and the time you were there. Point five, why whistle while you walk back to a lorry? Unless you are in a very good mood. I wouldn’t be in a happy place if I had just had a hot shower and had a long walk in cold air to sleep in a lorry. Point six, poor Gillian Hepple lost her life less than eight miles from the motorway service station! I’m sorry Toby, but this is our man. The lorry is the key!”

  As she said that, she realised tears were rolling down her face. Toby stood up. He passed Lucy Spires a paper tissue from a box at the side of his desk. Lucy Spires remained in her pose, standing in front of the desk.