Looking For A Reason (#4 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  She turned away from me and strode off, I presume to get her car. I almost let her go. Would anyone have taken any notice of her rambling? Probably not, but if she’d got as far as telling someone I’d gone to George Baron’s house, the police would have to look into it. I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  I followed her with the intention of catching her unawares as she was unlocking her car, just as I’d captured George Baron in the act of locking his, but she got caught up in the press of people waiting for the lights to change. I saw a bus thundering along and seized my opportunity and shoved her in the back.

  As she shot forward, I screamed. “Oh God, someone just pushed that woman,” I said. “I saw a man’s hand reach forward.” Then I moved back a few paces and said I’d seen a woman’s hand. In no time at all, the place was in chaos. Some were yelling it was a man; others saying it was a woman. Even those at the back of the crowd claimed to have seen a hand in Clementine’s back when they couldn’t have seen anything at all.

  When enough people were arguing about what they saw, I drifted away from the scene.

  “Well, that’s proof of how Clementine Towers met her end,” Paolo said. “Not that there’d been any doubt in my mind before today.”

  The thought of Dave in the hands of someone so ruthless made Paolo feel physically ill.

  “Andrea, what’s the news on tracing the owner of the Nemesis blog? I thought Mike had unencrypted the email address used to set it up.”

  She nodded. “He has, sir, but it’s a generic email address. One of those free ones where you don’t need to give any information. You could set it up in your cat’s name and no one would be any the wiser.”

  “Are you saying he can’t find out who Nemesis is?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m not saying that. Mike explained it to me. He can trace it back but it’s taking time. He knows that email address was set up using a Newcastle IP address and is running checks on that.”

  “Newcastle?”

  “That’s what he said. It was definitely set up in Newcastle. He’ll let us know as soon as he has something more concrete we can act on.”

  Paolo sighed. “I know, but it’s taking so damn long and we need to find Dave before it’s too late.” He turned to CC. “I take it there’s no news on his car?”

  She shook her head. “Not so far. We’ve got every available body out looking for it.”

  As Andrea and CC stood up to leave, Andrea’s phone rang. She mouthed the word Mike at Paolo, then sat back down to take the call.

  Paolo watched with mounting hope as she scribbled down information and barely gave her time to close her phone before demanding to know what Mike had uncovered.

  “The email address was set up by a J. Whitechapel.”

  “I want the whereabouts of every J. Whitechapel who lived in Newcastle when the blog was set up,” Paolo said.

  Andrea stood up. “I’m on it, sir, but this Whitechapel person might not have lived in the City. It could have been set up at work.”

  Paolo nodded. “I realise that, but at the moment a name and a city is all we have to go on, so let’s work with the info we have.”

  CC stood up as well. “I’m going to go and see if the Whitechapel name turns up nationwide in any complaints over the last few years.”

  “Good idea, CC. I can’t believe Nemesis has stayed under the radar for so long.”

  She was almost at the door when Paolo called her name. She turned back, a questioning look on her face.

  “The second you hear about Dave’s car, I want to know.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  An hour later, Paolo’s phone rang and he snatched it up, hoping to see Dave’s name on the display, but it was Jessica’s.

  She was probably at the airport by now, he thought. He was about to answer the call, when CC came rushing in.

  “Sir, they’ve found Dave’s car.”

  He hit the decline call button. Finding his friend and colleague was more important than long drawn-out goodbyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  “Where is it?” Paolo asked.

  “In the municipal car park not far from the youth centre,” CC answered.

  “Do they know how long it’s been there?”

  She nodded. “He must have gone straight to the car park when he left here. According to the attendant, it’s been parked there ever since. I’m thinking he might have been going to the youth centre.”

  Paolo shook his head. “No, he’d have parked in the centre car park if that was the case. Dave never walked a yard if he could drive.” He got up and walked over to the large map of Bradchester hanging on his office wall. “I’d say he could have been going to any of the streets within a ten to fifteen minute walk of the car park.”

  “No further out than that, sir?”

  “I would very much doubt it. The question now is why did he park there and not outside the place he wanted to go?”

  CC shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t want to advertise he was coming,” she suggested, but without any conviction in her voice.

  “It’s possible, but I don’t think that’s the reason. I think the only reason Dave wouldn’t have parked outside was if it was a restricted parking area.”

  “But he was on police business, sir. He could have just put one of our signs on the dash.”

  “He could have, yes, but remember he might have thought he was chasing one of Clementine’s fantasies. The fact he didn’t tell us where he was going makes me think he didn’t believe in the information himself. Maybe he didn’t want to draw attention to his car, which would happen if the permit holders called the station to complain about their space being taken up by a police car. By leaving his car in the municipal car park, if it turned out to be a wild goose chase, he wouldn’t need to mention it and get held up as a laughing stock.”

  “By charming Jack Cummings,” CC spat.

  Paolo nodded. “Amongst others, yes. CC, get on to traffic… No, scrap that. I’ll get on to traffic to find out which streets have permit-only parking. Pick up a locksmith and go to the municipal car park. I want you to search Dave’s car. I’m praying he’s left something in there to point the way.”

  When CC left, Paolo reached down into a drawer in his desk and pulled out a folded map of Bradchester. Technology was all well and good, but sometimes good old-fashioned paper worked better. He picked up the phone and called the traffic division to explain what he needed.

  As he was given the information, he used a yellow highlighter to show up all the streets were permits were needed for parking.

  “I hadn’t realised so much of Bradchester was restricted,” he said, as he coloured in another two roads and a cul-de-sac.

  “It never used to be like this, but the council changed most of the residential streets some time back,” the traffic officer said. “I’ve got another couple for you, sir.”

  By the time Andrea burst into his office half an hour later, Paolo’s map had more yellow streets than those left blank. He thanked the officer and ended his call.

  “Tell me you’ve got something good for me,” he said.

  She nodded. “I think so. I’ve been running searches on J. Whitechapel, trying all the names I could think of beginning with J: Jacob, Jarvis, Jeffrey. I went through them all and came up blank.”

  Realising she was still standing, Paolo pointed to the chairs. She sat down, dropped her files onto his desk and shuffled through the pages, pulling one out and passing it across to Paolo.

  “But then I found this J. Whitechapel who worked for the DHS in Newcastle during the time the blog was set up.”

  Paolo sat up. “DHS? Which department?”

  “Allocation of National Insurance numbers. It’s the perfect place to work if you need to set up a new identity and move to a different area.”

  “For example, to Bradchester,” Paolo said.

  Andrea nodded. “Exactly, sir, but that’s not all I found out.”

  “Go on.”r />
  “The J. Whitechapel who worked for the DHS wasn’t a man, but a woman. Full name, June Rosalind Whitechapel. When I ran that name through the computer I got a direct hit on a rape case in Newcastle two years before the Nemesis blog was set up. June was picked up in a night club. Her drink had been spiked with Rohypnol. When she came to, she was tied up, gagged and blindfolded. The rapist held her for almost three days before untying her. He told her if she moved before counting to thousand, he’d slit her throat. She did as she was told. When she got the blindfold off, it turned out the rapist had taken her back to her own home in her own car. He’d used the keys he’d found in her handbag to go in through the front door. He was even seen by neighbours helping her from her car into the house. No one thought anything of it until she called the police. According to the report filed, she was raped, tortured, starved and dehydrated, but her assailant was never caught.”

  She put the papers down. “It was thought at one point it might have been a revenge attack by her ex-husband. They’d been through a nasty divorce, but he had the perfect alibi. He was out of the country on business at the time and had all the documentation to prove it. But I’ve got a theory, sir.”

  “Go on,” Paolo said, forcing himself to concentrate on Andrea’s words as yet again George Baron’s autopsy was screaming at him.

  “The details of June’s rape is such a perfect match with our crimes, I think Nemesis could be her ex-husband.”

  Paolo nodded. “It’s possible. What’s his name and do we have a picture of him?”

  “His name is Marcus, but I don’t yet have any images. I’ve requested them from Newcastle and they’re sending some over.”

  “Good, we should be able to match or eliminate him.”

  As he said the words, with blinding clarity, Paolo realised what had been bugging him for days.

  “Andrea, don’t go. I need to make a call.”

  He picked up the phone and dialled Barbara’s number, praying she wouldn’t be conducting an autopsy and unable to speak to him. He sighed with relief when he heard her voice.

  “Barbara, sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got a quick question regarding George Baron’s rape.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Fire away.”

  “You pointed out the angle of penetration and mentioned a foreign object being used on him. Is it possible the perpetrator could have been female?”

  “It’s possible, of course, but she would have to be very strong to have overcome him and render him helpless.”

  “Or an expert in martial arts?” he said.

  “Yes, that’s a distinct possibility.”

  He thanked Barbara and ended the call.

  “Andrea, have you got a picture of the Newcastle rape victim in the file?”

  She rummaged through until she found one and passed it across the desk. Paolo studied it. She was younger then, with a short blonde crop in place of the mid-length brown hair she had now and must have been fitted with contact lenses, because she was no longer wearing glasses, but the image he held was definitely that of April Greychurch.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Paolo stood up and almost fell over his chair in his haste to get round the desk.

  “Andrea, grab your things. You’re coming with me.”

  He forced himself to stand still long enough to retrieve his phone from his pocket and call CC. Strangely enough, he could hear the ringing tone outside his office and getting louder. He ended the call as CC walked in.

  “You were calling me, sir?”

  “Yes, we’ve worked out who Nemesis is. It’s April Greychurch. We need to get to the youth centre immediately. You take Jack Cummings in your car. I’ll organise uniform backup.”

  CC grabbed his jacket as he went to pass her.

  “Wait, sir. Look at what I found,” she said, pulling a piece of paper from her pocket.

  “What is it? We don’t have time for this now, CC. Dave’s life’s at stake.”

  She held on tight to his arm. “I realise that, sir, but Dave isn’t likely to be at the youth centre. Please, look at this.”

  He took the scrap from her and read the words: CT says AG was having affair with GB? Call on AG home.

  “Change of plan. You and Andrea find April’s home address and call it through to me. I’ll meet you there.”

  CC nodded. “Where are you going, sir?”

  “To the youth centre to pick up April, but I’m going upstairs first. I want an emergency warrant to break into April’s home if she won’t cooperate.”

  Paolo ran into the main office, yelling at Jack to follow him. He didn’t bother to wait to see if Jack was with him or not, but took the stairs two at a time to get to Chief Constable Willows’ office. Without bothering to knock, he burst into the office. As he did so, he felt his phone vibrate to show he’d received a text message. He pulled the phone out and glanced at it. CC had sent April’s address.

  “Sir, I know who’s holding Dave. I’ll need a warrant to search this address,” he said, holding out the phone for Willows to write down the details.

  Willows nodded. “I want to hear the moment you’ve found him. Got that?”

  Paolo, already racing towards the door, looked back over his shoulder. “Will do.”

  He almost collided with Jack who had just reached the top of the stairs.

  “What kept you?” Paolo said, pushing past him and going down even faster than he’d climbed up. “Come on!” he yelled.

  He reached his car and was already turning the ignition by the time Jack appeared at the front of the station. Paolo gunned the engine and took off, screeching to a halt long enough for Jack to climb in.

  “The next time I tell you to move it, make sure you’re a damn sight faster than you were today,” Paolo said, cutting in front of cars at the traffic lights.

  “I didn’t realise it was so urgent,” Jack said.

  Paolo didn’t bother to answer. All that mattered was finding Dave safe and well. Surely April wouldn’t have hurt him? If her aim in life was teaching rapists a lesson, why would she hurt Dave? That bloody voice in his head that Paolo couldn’t shut up, no matter how hard he tried, kept whispering to him: for the same reason she killed Derrick Walden and Clementine Towers. She doesn’t want to be found out.

  Paolo pulled into the parking area at the youth centre and didn’t bother to look for a designated place. He threw the keys into Jack’s lap.

  “Lock up and come upstairs to find me,” he said.

  Climbing out and leaving the door open, he ran into the building and raced upstairs. April was calmly typing when he burst in.

  “What the fuck have you done with Dave?” he yelled.

  “What on earth are you on about, Paolo? How would I know where he is? Cute, he might be but–”

  Paolo didn’t give her chance to finish. He was round the back of her desk while the words were still forming. Grabbing her arms, he dragged her out of the chair and shook her.

  “Where is he? Where is he?”

  The red hot rage poured molten lava over his soul. If she didn’t answer, he would…he would…

  Letting her go, he took a step back and forced himself to speak calmly. “April Greychurch, formerly known as June Whitechapel, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of…”

  The words came out by rote. He was vaguely aware of Jack arriving and putting handcuffs on April, but Paolo’s mind had turned to quicksand. Thoughts arrived and sank without trace before he could grasp them. After a few minutes, he realised Jack was talking to him.

  “Sir, I’ve asked you twice now. What do you want me to do with her?”

  Paolo gave himself a shake and forced his mind to respond.

  “Take her downstairs and put her in the back of my car. We’re going to her house,” he said, pleased to see a look of alarm spread across April’s previously impassive features.

  He turned to the uniformed officers he hadn’t even notice arrive.

  “I want this office and the
one next door searched from top to bottom.” He scribbled down the names of the known victims. “Anything even remotely connected with any of these men, or anything that refers to the name Nemesis, I want bagged and tagged.”

  One of the young men looked up at that. “You mean the goddess, sir?”

  “Sorry?” Paolo asked. “What goddess?”

  “Nemesis. She’s most commonly described as a daughter of Night, though some say she’s the daughter of Erebus. According to the poet Hesiod…” His voice trailed away. “Sorry, sir, my father’s a classics scholar. I sort of picked up the info.”

  Paolo felt as if the clues had been staring him in the face all along, but only now were they clear to him. Nemesis was a goddess, not a god. If he’d realised that sooner, would it have made a difference? Would he have guessed he was searching for a woman and not a man? No point in speculating.

  “Carry on,” he said. “All finds to be reported directly to me.”

  He raced downstairs to the car, his mind liquid fire. A huge improvement over the thick soup it had resembled earlier. As he climbed in, he glanced at April.

  “We’re going to your house. Are you prepared to give directions?”

  She nodded.

  He turned away and started the car, passing his phone to Jack.

  “That’s where we’re going. Get directions just in case she tries to mess us about.”

  In the end, Jack’s help wasn’t necessary. Following April’s instructions, they were soon turning into a street of semidetached houses, which was already full of marked and unmarked police cars. Paolo noticed all the permit-only parking signs with a perverse sense of satisfaction. He’d been right about that, at least. They were also about ten minutes’ walk from the municipal parking area where Dave had left his car. Further confirmation, if any were needed, that Dave had called on April before he disappeared.

  He pulled up as close to April’s house as possible and stopped the car. CC was already there, alongside half the Bradchester force. As he climbed out, CC showed him the warrant to search the house.