The tiny security booth he and Banner were squeezed into reeked of whatever instant noodle meal was perched beside the keyboard, and the septuagenarian security guard’s reflexes were very sluggish.
‘Stop there. Forward again. That’s it. Just play it from there.’
They had six angles on the car park and the images were illuminated sufficiently to make out the activity.
‘This must be around the time he came through.’ Banner leaned forward.
They both watched the barrier at the end of the path that led to the parking spaces.
‘Shoplifters loiter in the car park and look for receipts that have been thrown away. Then they go in, put everything that’s on the receipt in a trolley and walk out. If they’re stopped—’
‘Can you spool forward just a little faster?’ Fabian asked.
The security guard’s hand trembled on the stick. He’d just been finishing his shift but had been only too eager to assist them.
‘There.’ Banner pointed as a figure streaked through all six screens.
‘Could you step out? You’ve been invaluable but I think I can take it from here.’
‘No problem.’ The security guard sounded crestfallen.
Fabian stood back so he could exit then dropped into his seat and rewound the footage. ‘Got him.’
The figure was frozen just past the barrier. Fabian let it play in real time.
They both observed a figure in a dark raincoat, hood up, walk briskly across the car park.
‘He’s keeping his head down.’ Banner sighed.
‘And hands in his pockets. He’s probably still wearing the gloves.’
‘That’s got to be him.’
Fabian’s eyes darted about the six screens but none of them captured his face.
‘Could that be Brennan?’
‘He’s pretty tall. Well built.’ But Fabian wasn’t positive.
The figure strode straight for the car park exit and Fabian squinted as he approached via the camera over the height restriction. But he kept his head low and passed by onto the street. ‘Which way does he go?’
From a wall camera they could clearly see him make a left.
‘So, he probably did get off the high street down Woodbury.’
Fabian rubbed his face. ‘Get on to Finch and see if he can get hold of CCTV from the high street. At least one camera has to have caught his face. Where would he emerge?’
Banner checked the map on her phone. ‘Could have made his way to Amen Corner, Streatham or down towards Colliers Wood.’
‘He could get on the Tube there.’
‘He could have done that at Tooting Broadway. I think he’s staying off the high street.’
Fabian knew there was too much ground to cover. ‘Let’s hope Finch can find us something.’ He rose from the chair. ‘Let’s circulate this image. Has McMann brought in Brennan and his girlfriend yet?’
‘I’ll find out.’ Banner put her phone to her ear as they walked back out of the booth.
Fabian nodded at the security guard. ‘Thanks for your time. Do you mind waiting here until another officer arrives?’
‘No problem. Good to feel useful. I spend too much time watching people robbing the place only for you lot to do nothing about it.’
But Fabian was already back through the sliding doors with Banner in tow. They’d laid eyes on him. They were only hours behind him. But how would he use those hours?
Chapter Forty-Six
‘Thought you’d finished for the evening?’ Fabian addressed Mills sombrely and squeezed past the white suited techs in Adam Newman’s bedroom.
‘Was just pulling into the drive at home. At least I saw Lucinda through the window.’
But Fabian could see that, despite the jokes, Mills was ill at ease. ‘So at least we know what time he was killed.’
‘Think this was a rush job.’ Mills’s bald pate perspired under the light bulb above and he tugged at the collar of his white overall and stood back.
Adam Newman was sprawled on the floor, a dark patch of blood around his torso soaking into the taupe carpet. His left hand was at his side and the other was stretched away from him. The teenager’s eyes were closed but his facial wounds were even cruder than those of Emily Mortimer, the skin of his chin flapped open to reveal the bone beneath.
‘Three stab wounds to the face but these are much more aggressive. Our victim had made too much noise and his assailant knew he didn’t have long.’
Fabian took in the drum kit and then the rows of deodorant sprays and acne products on the dresser. ‘Just a kid.’
Banner was on her phone. ‘OK. Just bring her in for now.’ She cut the call. ‘Kirsten Parr says she doesn’t know where Brennan is.’
‘Has McMann been to his address?’
‘Yeah. He’s not there. He had a date with Kirsten tonight, but he didn’t show up. She hasn’t seen him this week.’
Fabian suspected Vicar had been telling the truth about being with the lecturer the night Candice had been murdered. Finding Brennan was imperative. ‘Bring her in but let her keep trying to contact Brennan. She may be our only line of communication with him.’
‘Getting close?’ Mills winced as he straightened his back.
‘Not close enough. He may be taking risks but he’s stepping things up.’
Mills regarded the boy at his feet. ‘I’ll burn some oil, have the report ready by tomorrow morning but sounds like you have other priorities.’
He was right. Fabian was more concerned about the next crime scene and how soon the two of them would be having the same discussion there. Had it already been chosen or would the killer improvise? The murders had all occurred in different areas. But perhaps tonight was a sign that there was a determination to finish the journey at any cost. Even capture. ‘Come on.’ He gestured Banner to the landing.
‘Should we be rallying the local force?’ Banner was obviously thinking the same. ‘Maybe he’s just going to get hold of a directory and find the nearest candidate.’
‘Let’s flag it up to them and get them to alert anyone living in the immediate vicinity with those surnames.’
‘Metcalfe doesn’t want a panic,’ she cautioned.
‘I’ll deal with Metcalfe. The situation has changed. We could already be too late.’
They both headed down the stairs.
The hallway was being dusted but Fabian didn’t want to waste any more time there. ‘Let me know how you get on. I’m going to see if I can find Brennan.’
‘Where?’ Banner asked from behind him.
‘The Skinner’s Arms.’ He dodged the techs in the hallway, stripped off his foot covers and headed out of the front door.
Because of roadworks, the twelve-mile drive to the pub took Fabian much longer than anticipated and he spent a frustrating fifty minutes behind the wheel wondering if he should have remained in Tooting. He still couldn’t conceive of a motive that Brennan would have for murdering the disparate people on the route. He was a sexual predator, but Vicar’s account of the night Candice had been murdered only intimated that the lecturer had a seedier side to his life that he didn’t want his students to know about.
When he got out of the Audi in the side street that the small locals’ pub skulked in he wasn’t even sure if it was open. A dark blind was down in the one frosted window at the front but when he pushed the door it opened into a dingy bar where the aroma of furniture polish had lost its battle against mildew.
The emaciated young barman wearing a baseball cap too big for him and chatting to one old guy on a stool at the end, looked up briefly, acknowledged that Fabian was in a hurry to speak to him but didn’t break off from the conversation.
‘Has Garth been in tonight?’
The barman regarded him as if he’d spoken in a foreign language.
‘Garth Brennan. It’s really important I find him.’ Fabian didn’t pull out his ID. From what Vicar had said it wasn’t going to help him. But the barman looked suspicious and pro
bably already had him pegged as a copper.
The barman looked slowly around the empty bar, as if it was a demonstration of what Fabian should do and then shook his head.
Fabian could hear low chatter coming from the direction of the toilets. ‘Mind if I use your Gents’?’
‘Patrons only.’
‘Half a lager then.’ Fabian headed over to them.
‘Hey!’ The barman warned.
But Fabian pulled the door and found himself in a short passage. The Ladies’ and Gents’ were on either side and the glass door ahead had a sign on it.
BEER GARDEN
He pushed through into a small walled courtyard and the chatter stopped. Four men in their twenties were huddled on a bench. A chimenea was crackling and the air was thick with smoke. None of it smelt like firewood or tobacco. ‘Any of you seen Garth Brennan?’
Four cadaverous expressions remained impassive.
‘I’m a police officer; I don’t care about what’s going on here but it’s really important you tell me if you’ve seen him.’
Silence. But their eyes barely concealed their contempt for his presence.
Then the door opened behind Fabian.
‘Sorry about this, guys,’ the barman apologised. He sounded distinctly nervous.
One of the men leaned forward and spat on the ground in front of Fabian. He had the word ‘DREX’ tattooed across his right knuckles.
‘I’d come away,’ the barman was at his shoulder. ‘Now.’
‘Not until I find out where he is. How about it, fellah?’ Fabian fixed Drex.
Chapter Forty-Seven
‘Well?’
Drex leaned back and grinned humourlessly. ‘Never heard of the guy.’
‘I know he drinks in here.’ Fabian tried to meet the gaze of the others, but they were all looking at their feet.
‘Can’t help.’ Drex’s gaze was implacable.
‘He teaches a guy named Neil Vicar. Know him?’
‘Nope.’ He folded his arms.
‘Anyone?’
The only sound was the flames crackling inside the chimenea.
‘This is harassment,’ the barman weakly protested.
Drex got to his feet and squared up to Fabian. He was a half a foot shorter than he was but thickset.
Fabian looked into yellow eyes but held his ground. ‘I’m leading a murder investigation. If he comes in here I want to hear about it.’
‘Murder investigation? Well, that changes everything.’ Drex blinked sluggishly. ‘Send me a friend request. We can share selfies.’
Fabian’s phone rang. He took it out and stepped to the left of Drex but didn’t turn his back on him.
It was Banner. ‘Kirsten Parr is waiting to be questioned.’
‘On my way back now.’
‘No joy?’
‘Wasting my time.’
Drex sat back down with the others but the barman remained rigidly where he was.
‘Made it out alive?’
‘Remains to be seen. No sign of Brennan. It was worth a shot. The locals are trying to get me to join their quiz team, but I’ve had to pass.’
He hung up and addressed the barman. ‘I can keep coming back. Again and again. And maybe I’ll bring some of my colleagues.’ He handed him his number on a card. ‘If you don’t want that, tell me if Brennan comes in. Immediately. Understand?’
The barman nodded but Fabian knew it was futile.
‘Evening, gents.’ He headed to the door.
When he got back to the station only McMann was in the office on the phone. Fabian knew Finch would be in Tooting scouring the shops and restaurants for CCTV footage and Banner would be downstairs in an interview room. He waited for him to hang up. ‘Did you dig anything more up about Fitzrovia?’
‘Nothing more significant than what was in Cousins’s tour.’
‘Nothing recently?’
‘Petty theft. Minor violations. And that cabbie that was attacked.’
‘Any more details on that?’
‘April 2017. Guy named Ed Palfrey. His fare tried to do a runner on him, so he chased after him and was assaulted for his trouble. Assailant used a brick out of a skip. Palfrey suffered a fractured skull but recovered. The attacker was never caught.’
‘Get me the report. And what about those credit card details?’
McMann nodded wearily and tugged a piece of paper from under a file. ‘Got a list of transactions from Middleton’s cab.’
‘So what about the date Gaynor Middleton said the guy hailed him in his own neighbourhood and wanted him to drive around for an hour before dropping him off in Putney?’
‘There were nineteen credit card transactions on the 2nd of August.’
‘He said it was the first of the day.’
He consulted the paper. ‘That was someone named Sue Chambers at 10.14 a.m. I’ve called her but she lives in Chilmark, Wiltshire. Says she hasn’t been in London for years.’
‘Maybe someone’s using her card.’
‘She’s looking into it.’
‘Let me know what she says. And call Gaynor Middleton. Ask her if she remembers exactly what time her father left the house that morning.’
‘Perhaps whoever it was got in earlier and used cash anyway?’
‘Maybe so but if a credit card was used fraudulently it could be our suspect.’
‘And where do we go from there?’
‘Just try to get a time from Middleton’s daughter.’
McMann sighed. ‘DS Banner told me to tell you she’s with Kirsten Parr.’
Fabian could tell McMann was feeling like a dogsbody but there was no time for pep talks. ‘You know where I’ll be then. Keep me posted.’ He headed to the interview rooms.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Kirsten Parr was a fake-tanned, petite girl with a stylish bob of dark brown hair, the fringe of which came down to her false eyelashes and undulated every time she blinked. Fabian estimated her to be around twenty-two and could see her shoulders move almost indiscernibly inside her thin olive woollen pullover as her hands fidgeted under the table.
Banner had started recording and sat forward in her chair, elbows on the table and fingers interlaced.
Fabian didn’t want to waste any time. ‘Miss Parr, as you’re aware we’re urgently trying to locate your boyfriend, Garth Brennan.’
She scornfully shook her head. ‘What d’you honestly think he’s done?’
‘Don’t you think it’s odd nobody can find him?’
‘Not really. He does go off to do his own thing. It’s infuriating when he doesn’t answer his phone but that’s Garth.’
‘And he’s still not answering now?’ Fabian nodded at her mobile on the table.
‘No. And, as I’ve already said, if he’s not at the college or at home I’ve no idea where he is.’
‘So, you and he were meant to be meeting up this evening?’
‘Yes.’
‘What for?’
‘He was going to help me with my homework. What d’you think?’
‘Does he stand you up very often?’
‘No.’
‘Why do you think we want to speak to him?’
‘Something about Candice Langham, I’m assuming.’
‘But he was with you the night she was murdered, so you can rest easy that he wasn’t involved, can’t you?’
She set her jaw and nodded.
‘Is there anything you want to tell us now, Miss Parr? I have reason to believe that another life may be at risk if you delay telling us the truth.’
‘That was the truth.’ She focussed on the area between Fabian and Banner.
Banner consulted the notes on her phone. ‘That you were both walking your dog on Woodcock Heath on the evening of the eighth and that you both returned to your place and remained there for the remainder of the night?’
‘Yes.’
‘Even though there’s nobody else to corroborate this account.’ Fabian noticed her hands had stopped fi
dgeting. Stillness was often a sign of lies.
‘He stayed with me.’ She shivered, slid her denim jacket off the back of her chair and put it back on. ‘Don’t the radiators work in here?’
Fabian could see she was trying to avoid his observation of her. ‘Have you two had a conversation about what happened to Candice?’
‘Of course, everyone was talking about it. She was a classmate.’
‘Has he spoken to you about being interviewed by the police?’
‘Yes. I know he was questioned recently.’
‘Did he tell you he was questioned again earlier today?’
‘I haven’t spoken to him today.’ Her eyes darted away from his to Banner.
‘What was the last communication between the two of you?’
‘A WhatsApp.’ She eventually answered him. ‘Just about what time we were meeting tonight.’
‘And why d’you think he cancelled?’
‘Looks like you’re going to tell me.’
‘Miss Parr, if you’re lying to protect him I promise now would be the time to admit it.’
‘I told you—’
But Fabian could see she might be wavering. ‘You know that Garth Brennan asked Candice Langham out?’
‘Yes.’ She suddenly met his eyes again. There was hostility in hers.
‘He admitted that to you?’
‘I knew already. It was before we started seeing each other.’
‘So, you don’t think he chose you because he couldn’t get Candice.’
‘No.’ She enunciated the word. ‘Candice was…’ she broke off. ‘You didn’t have to spend much time with her to know.’
‘Know what?’
‘She was tedious.’
‘Tedious how? Because she wasn’t interested in being your friend?’
Kirsten chewed her lip, as if preventing herself from saying anything more.
‘How about Ria Campbell, was she tedious as well?’
‘I don’t really know her. She and Candice were big buddies though.’
‘You weren’t jealous of Candice then?’
‘Why would I be jealous? Garth wasn’t interested in her after we got together.’
Never Say Goodbye: An edge of your seat thriller with gripping suspense (Detective Tom Fabian Book 1) Page 14