Frozen

by Lindsay Jayne Ashford

  *

  The sound of the telephone invaded Megan’s dreams. She fumbled for the receiver, her eyes still closed as she mumbled her name.

  ‘Megan? Are you there?’ The voice at the other end of the phone was Martin Leverton’s.

  ‘Martin?’

  ‘Yes. What can I say? You were right, and all I can do is offer you my humblest apologies and ask you to forgive me.’

  ‘Martin, what are you talking about?’ Megan sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes and peering at the clock. It was half-past nine.

  ‘Tyrone Campbell – Maria Fellowes’ pimp; you were right about him having nothing to do with the murders.’

  ‘Oh, really?’

  ‘Yes – I’ve just received some information that rules him out completely. But there’s been another development. Listen, are you still in this? Because I’ve got a real crisis on my hands.’

  Twenty minutes later Megan was driving past the university on her way to the police station. She wondered what Patrick would think when he woke up. He had seemed to be in such a deep sleep that she hadn’t wanted to disturb him.

  She had left a note propped up on the coffee table wishing him a happy Christmas and explaining why she’d had to go. In retrospect, it was probably the best thing. She hoped that by the time she saw him again the embarrassment of last night would have worn off.

  She tried to concentrate on what Leverton had said, but the image of Patrick sitting beside her bed kept flashing into her mind. In a few hours he would be back in Holland; his girlfriend hell-bent on luring him back.

  ‘My God, you really know how to pick them,’ she muttered to herself, simultaneously fantasizing about waking up on Christmas Day with Patrick beside her. In reality she’d be waking up in the spare room at Ceri’s with Emily leaping all over her. Still, she thought, it would be better than waking up alone in her bed at home.

  She pulled into the car park outside the police station, her feet crunching across the gritted snow. Leverton had a pot of coffee waiting for her in his office. Obviously anxious to make amends, he apologised again before telling her what had happened.

  ‘I’ve got this prostitute in the interview room downstairs. She swears she saw Rob Donalsen having sex with Maria Fellowes in an unmarked squad car on the night she disappeared.’

  Megan raised her eyebrows but said nothing.

  ‘As you know, I’ve suspected for some time that he’s been taking advantage of his job in Vice,’ Leverton went on. ‘The thing is, I’ve just had his medical details back.’ He paused, staring straight into Megan’s eyes. ‘His blood group’s AB.’

  Megan sat in stunned silence for a moment. At last, she thought, he’s decided to lay his cards on the table. Does he really expect me to swallow that bull about only just getting the medical records?

  ‘Have you charged him with anything yet?’

  ‘Not yet, no. He admits picking Maria up but he denies having sex with her. He says he’d seen her soliciting and asked her to get into the car while he gave her an informal warning.’

  ‘I know you think he’s a bent copper.’ Megan watched Leverton’s face. ‘But do you really think he’s capable of something like this?’

  ‘That’s what I was going to ask you,’ Leverton said with a grim smile. ‘All I can say is the longer I do this job, the less I seem to know. I used to think I was a pretty good judge of people. In fact I used to pride myself on being able to see through the flannel most villains give you. But now … I don’t know … I suppose I’ve come to realise that some people can be so plausible, so manipulative. It’s like a twisted gift, the sort of thing that could make a straight guy into an award-winning actor.’

  ‘But from what you’ve told me about Rob Donalsen, and from what I’ve seen, he’s given himself away at almost every turn. He’s hardly a Ted Bundy when it comes to pulling the wool over people’s eyes, is he?’

  ‘You don’t think he’s the killer?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. What I mean is that Donalsen doesn’t appear to be the kind of charming sociopath who fools people into thinking he’s a harmless, boy-next-door type. If you want me to give you an opinion on whether he’s a likely candidate for these murders, I’ll need a lot more information about him and I’ll have to talk to this prostitute about exactly what she saw. Presumably he doesn’t have an alibi for Monday night?’

  ‘No. He was on duty. Says he was out on the beat, driving around alone. He’s not supposed to do that – there are always supposed to be two officers present when they make an arrest – I had a word with Costello about it, but he’s very cagey about saying anything against his boss. It was Costello who brought Eileen Bunce, the prostitute, in. He drove round for a couple of hours after she’d told him about seeing Donalsen with Maria – couldn’t decide what to do for the best.’

  ‘What about relationships?’ Megan asked. ‘Is Donalsen married?’

  ‘Separated.’

  ‘When did they split up?’

  ‘Not long ago. He was off sick for a week when it happened. It was only a couple of months ago, I think.’

  ‘We need to check that, then. It could have been a trigger for the murders. What does the wife do?’

  ‘She used to be a secretary here but she left last year.’

  ‘I need more details about her. Is there anyone here she was close to? I mean a colleague she might have kept in touch with?’

  ‘I’ll find out. Would you like to go and talk to Eileen Bunce while I do that?’

  ‘Yes, okay.’ Megan drained her coffee cup and stood up. ‘Before I do –’

  ‘What?’

  ‘On the phone you said you’d received some information that cleared Tyrone Campbell of any involvement in the murders. What was it?

  ‘His blood group – it’s B.’

  Megan frowned as she looked at him. ‘So you didn’t bother going to Winson Green last night, then?’

  ‘Yes I did. We didn’t have any record of his blood group on our files, you see. When I got there I had a chat with the Governor. He’s a new chap and he’d come across Tyrone Campbell before when he was Assistant Governor at Shrewsbury. Evidently Campbell was done for attempted rape on a woman in Telford. He was held at Shrewsbury jail and West Mercia Police had a record of his blood group on file. I contacted them as soon as I got back from Winson Green, and I got a call from them first thing this morning.’

  Megan walked across to the window, trying to avoid Leverton’s eyes. She didn’t want her expression to be misconstrued as gloating. ‘Did you actually speak to Tyrone Campbell?’ She glanced at the crowds of last-minute Christmas shoppers in the street below. ‘I was wondering if he might know who the killers are.’

  ‘He wouldn’t talk,’ Leverton replied. ‘Didn’t want to know.’

  ‘So, we still have no idea who the O man is.’ She turned round to face Leverton. ‘I don’t want to end up arguing with you again, Martin, but have you got any further at BTV?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m keeping an open mind about what you said. I spoke to the head of the security firm last night – you know, the bloke who found Maria’s body – and we’re checking out a staff list he gave us. We’re doing the same for the catering people and the cleaning staff. Nearly all of them are casuals or part-timers and I wouldn’t mind betting that a few of them will have been through the doors of this place at some time or another.’

  ‘Could I have a copy of the lists?’ Megan asked. Catch him while he’s in a good mood, she thought.

  ‘Yes, I don’t see why not.’ Leverton smiled. ‘I’ll get them photocopied for you.’

  Put the flags out, Megan thought. ‘Right,’ she said, picking up her bag. ‘I’d better go and speak to Miss Bunce. What’s she like, by the way?’

  Leverton screwed up his face.

  ‘That bad, eh?’

  *

  Eileen Bunce had just lit up a cigarette when Megan was shown into the room. PC Costello introduced them and Megan sat down, trying not to stare at t
he crooked ginger wig.

  ‘I’d like you to try to remember exactly what you saw when you walked past the squad car.’ Megan was looking straight into the woman’s eyes, noticing the thin, veined skin and the crows’ feet filled with last night’s blue eyeshadow.

  ‘He’s already had a statement off me,’ the woman replied, jerking a thumb at Costello. ‘What more do you want?’

  ‘What you told my colleagues was that you saw Maria Fellowes and Sergeant Donalsen having sex in his car. I want you to describe exactly what you saw them doing.’

  The woman turned to Costello. ‘She kinky or summat?’

  Megan ignored the remark and carried on. ‘Were they in the front of the car or the back?’

  ‘The front.’ She looked askance at Megan.

  ‘Could you see both of them quite clearly?’

  ‘I could see his head and his shoulders – I was only walking past, you know. I didn’t have a ringside seat!’

  ‘How can you be sure they were having sex?’

  ‘Well, for a start I could hear him grunting and groaning – right bloody racket he was making – and I could see her boots on the dashboard.’

  ‘Had she taken them off?’

  ‘No, course not!’ The woman raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘Her feet was up there ’cos he was shagging her on the passenger seat and there wasn’t nowhere else they could have fitted.’

  ‘How did you know it was Maria he was with?’

  ‘I saw her getting into the car. I stand just up the road from her and I saw him pick her up. I got a punter a few minutes later, but he changed his mind and dropped me off in Prole Street. That’s when I saw them at it.’

  ‘How do you know Sergeant Donalsen hadn’t let Maria out of the car and picked up someone else?’

  ‘Her boots,’ the woman replied. ‘They’re the same as mine. I had them specially made by a bloke down the market who makes cowboy gear. She asked me where I got them from and went and had a pair made exactly the same. I never spoke to her again after that.’

  Megan was staring intently at the woman now. ‘This might seem a strange question to ask, but I can assure you it’s vital to this inquiry: I need to know what position Maria Fellowes was in when Sergeant Donalsen was having sex with her. You say you saw her boots on the dashboard – did the position of her feet indicate that she was lying on her front or her back?’

  ‘Oh, her back, definitely her back,’ the woman replied, looking at Megan with a curious expression. ‘Was the bugger who killed her kinky, then?’

  Megan and Costello exchanged glances at this unfortunate choice of words. ‘I’m afraid I can’t comment on that,’ Megan said. ‘But thank you for your information. It’s extremely important.’

  Leverton was on the phone when Megan went back up to his office. He waved her to a seat and she immediately noticed how flushed his face looked.

  ‘And she still works there now, does she?’ he said to the person on the other end of the line. ‘Right, that’s great – many thanks.’ He put the phone down and turned to Megan. ‘You’ll never believe this: Donalsen’s wife works at BTV!’

  ‘Really? Who told you?’

  ‘A woman she used to work with, WPC Anderton. They both worked in the Control Room. Anyway, according to her Rob Donalsen often went to BTV to pick his wife up because she didn’t have a car.’

  ‘How long ago did they split up?’

  ‘Two months. I checked the sick leave book.’

  ‘And when did she start working at BTV?’

  ‘Eighteen months ago.’

  ‘So Donalsen was going in and out of the place for over a year,’ Megan mused. ‘He could have got to know some of the other staff reasonably well in that time.’

  Leverton nodded. ‘I asked WPC Anderton if she knew about the split and she said she’d heard the gossip about Rob being separated, but didn’t know the details. She thinks his wife might have had an affair with someone at BTV.’

  Neil’s face flashed into Megan’s mind. ‘What’s her first name?’

  ‘Helen. Why?’

  ‘Oh, just curious.’ Megan felt a surge of relief. Although he’s still not off the hook, she thought grimly.

  The phone rang again and Leverton picked it up. After a moment he grabbed a notepad and began scribbling something down.

  ‘That was the pathologist,’ he said, replacing the receiver. ‘They’ve just had the blood-group results on the swabs they took from Maria Fellowes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s strange,’ Leverton said, reading what he had just written. ‘Semen was found to be present in the vaginal and anal orifices. Anal semen was blood group AB. Vaginal semen also type AB.’

  ‘AB in the vagina?’

  ‘That’s what he said.’

  ‘Well, I never.’

  Leverton frowned at her. ‘What?’

  ‘When I was talking to Eileen Bunce I asked her to describe exactly what she saw Donalsen and Maria doing in the car. She said Maria was lying on her back in the passenger seat with Donalsen on top of her.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Don’t you see? Maria was the wrong way round.’

  The puzzled frown lifted as Leverton realised what she was implying. ‘Of course! Natalie and Tina were raped from behind. So what the hell was Donalsen doing, then?’

  ‘Well,’ Megan said, ‘there are two possibilities. Either the killer has changed his modus operandi or Donalsen’s innocent.’

  ‘Innocent?’

  ‘Of Maria’s death. I’m not trying to say he’s innocent of the other things you think he’s been up to, but the presence of AB semen in the vagina could mean that he had sex with Maria before the real killer got hold of her.’

  ‘But that would mean that two different men with the same rare blood group had sex with the same woman within hours or even minutes of each other. Isn’t that a bit farfetched?’

  ‘Type AB isn’t that rare. It’s present in about three percent of the population.’

  ‘That’s still only three men in every hundred,’ Leverton said, rubbing his chin.

  ‘That first pathologist we saw, you know, Horrobin? He said the anal semen from Tina Jackson was an AB subtype present in about two percent of the population. If forensics run an enzyme test on the samples they might be able to tell us if they came from two different men.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I could get that done.’ Leverton frowned. ‘But an enzyme test might not be conclusive.’

  ‘I know. But apart from that all we can do is sit tight and wait for the DNA results. Unless…’ Megan paused, her eyes narrowing.

  ‘Unless what?’

  ‘Unless Donalsen’s wife feels like helping us out.’

  Chapter 13

  There was a knock at Leverton’s door. A freckle-faced giant of a man with hair the colour of Eileen Bunce’s wig strode into the room. The tight auburn curls looked so incongruous on a man of his size that Megan had to try very hard not to smile.

  ‘I’m just taking the SOCOs round to Rob Donalsen’s place, sir.’ The man shifted uncomfortably, looking at the floor. Megan sensed his embarrassment at having to search the home of a fellow officer. ‘Is there anything in particular you’d like the lads to look for, sir?’

  Leverton looked at Megan.

  ‘A Polaroid camera,’ she said, ‘and that shamrock pendant. Look for any jewellery, clothes or personal possessions that might have been taken from the victims.’

  ‘What about pornographic material? Magazines, videos, that sort of thing?’ Leverton asked.

  ‘Yes. Especially anything to do with bondage or sadism. Whoever killed those women is into cruelty and humiliation, so anything you see that reflects that kind of behaviour would be extremely useful.’

  The detective finished scribbling notes and hurried off to join the scene-of-crime officers waiting to scour Donalsen’s flat.

  Half an hour later, Leverton pulled up outside a pebble-dashed house in a quiet road where Christmas lights flash
ed behind net curtains. Snow had been shoveled into untidy grey heaps on the pavements and a snowman with a lopsided head stood guard on one of the mean strips of turf that masqueraded as a front garden.

  Helen Donalsen stared at Leverton when she answered the door. Then her gaze shifted to Megan. A look of recognition was swiftly followed by one of total bewilderment.

  ‘I’m sorry to spring this on you, Helen,’ Leverton said, ‘but I need to talk to you about something very serious.’ He paused for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction. ‘It’s about Rob. Can we come in?’

  ‘What is it? What’s happened? He’s not dead? He can’t be dead. I saw his Mum this morning in Sainsbury’s.’ She leaned against the door for support and Megan noticed how thin she was.

  Leverton put an arm on her shoulder, ushering her inside. ‘No, no, of course he’s not dead, love. That’s not why we’re here. We need to ask you a few questions about Rob.’

  The woman frowned as Leverton introduced Megan. ‘This is Doctor Rhys –’

  ‘I know.’ She cut him short before he could explain. She stared at Megan with a mixture of fear and suspicion. ‘I’ve seen your face on the trailer for that documentary BTV’s made about you.’

  ‘Oh.’ Megan shouldn’t have been surprised, but she still found it slightly unnerving to be recognised by a complete stranger.

  ‘Doctor Rhys is helping us with the investigation into the death of the woman found outside the BTV building yesterday,’ Leverton said as he sat down on a very new-looking cream sofa.

  ‘What’s Rob got to do with it? And why have you come to me? You know we split up, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Leverton replied. ‘I’m sorry to have to involve you in this, Helen, but we’re holding Rob on suspicion of murder. We have reason to believe he may have killed her.’

  Helen Donalsen stared at Leverton, shaking her head. Her lips moved but no sound emerged.

  ‘I can understand what a shock this must be for you, Helen, but we need to ask you some very important questions about Rob. You see, he has no alibi for the night of the murder and we have a witness who claims to have seen him with the victim on the night she disappeared.’