The Electrician's Code

by Clarissa Draper

  “Who found the body?”

  “The woman in the flat across the hall said about three or so she heard a thud and then nothing. She dismissed it. But later, as she was binning her rubbish, she spotted Ms. Yoder’s open door and, out of curiosity, went to have a look. She rang the police and the manager of the flats. The door was open and she was lying there in plain view. But because she had the flat at the end of the hall, no one went past by her door.”

  Dorland waved to one small girl of three that had a finger up her right nostril and her thumb in her mouth. They had finally reached the fourth floor and headed to the last apartment on the left. A man in his fifties with many keys hanging from his belt met them half way.

  “Aye, bad business this. This is the second dead body found in this building in the last six months. Some are beginning to believe the area is dangerous. I say keep an eye on your children and make sure they stay off the drugs. It’s all drugs, you know. That’s ninety percent of the problem, drugs and drink.”

  “Do you know if Sharon Yoder had a problem with drugs or alcohol?” Theo asked him.

  “Sharon? Not that I know of. But that’s just it, you see, you never can tell. The ones who seem put together, they’re an almighty mess. There are many tenants who live in this complex, and I handle the needs of all of them. If anyone needs work done such as plumbing or electrical or if an appliance needs fixing, I’m their go-to man. Anyway, the few times I spoke with her, she did not say much. She was quiet, worked a lot, not around. I don’t know much else about her. Had a bloke come round once or twice a fortnight but for this block, it’s considered rare. And could’ve been her father or brother, who really knows.”

  “So you don’t know the man’s name?”

  “No, not even sure of the car, just remember him coming and going a few times from the building and once with her. They were walking side-by-side, not holding hands or anything of the sort. Hard to say if they were a couple or like brother and sister. Now days, it’s hard to say. A woman could visit another woman and they could be a couple, if you know what I mean. We have to be politically correct.”

  “All right then, were there any women who visited the flat?”

  “Not that I noticed.”

  “And the man, was he tall, short, white, black, Chinese? Anything you can tell us would be appreciated.”

  “He was white and average height, wore glasses, I think. Dressed normally.”

  “What about cameras, any CCTV around the building that we can have?”

  The man nodded. “We have nineteen cameras in and around the complex. There’s one in the foyer of each building, for the security of the tenants. And they work. If you had asked me two weeks ago, I would’ve had only six. However, we’ve had a string of robberies and the tenants were beginning to complain, so I had all of them serviced.”

  “How secure is the building? Can people just come and go as they please?”

  “Not really, no. We have intercoms where the visitors have to ring the tenants, and the tenants let them in using their phone system. The killer, unless they had a key or knew the code to open the door, would have to ring up to the flat.”

  “Is there a way we can check to see if someone has buzzed up to Sharon’s flat?”

  The landlord placed his hands in his pockets. “The number is not recorded in any way.”

  The man had nothing more to say, so Theo dismissed him and they headed on to the victim’s flat. Sharon Yoder lay prone. Her silk robe had fallen open to reveal her bra and knickers. Her eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. She didn’t look like she suffered pain, just shock. Her arms were by her sides and her legs were almost straight out in front of her. And sticking out of her chest was a large black-handled knife.

  Waynton huffed and puffed over the body. “Poor, poor girl. She looks so innocent laying here.”

  “How could one walk out of the building after stabbing her?” Dorland asked. “Wouldn’t the killer be covered in blood?”

  “It looks like our killer is right handed from the angle of the weapon,” Waynton said. “Can’t confirm until I do the autopsy, but it looks like the knife passed between two ribs and punctured her lungs or heart.”

  Dorland took a step out into the hall and leaned against the far wall. “This gets to me after a while. She looks a bit like my sister.”

  “She does,” replied Theo. “But don’t let that eat at you. And it’s an odd murder, so impersonal. The killer didn’t invite themselves in, didn’t move the body into the flat or shut the door to hide her. It looks like they were trying to do the deed as fast as they could and escape. It all seems random, but it’s not random now is it? I mean, no one randomly picks this flat to stab someone. It’s nowhere near an exit. There’s a greater chance of getting noticed if you walk up three flights of stairs and pick the last door down the hall.”

  “I agree. Also, she wouldn’t let someone into the building she felt would do her harm. Most likely the victim knew her killer. Why else would they just walk up to her door and kill her? Or if the victim did not know her killer, the perpetrator probably used the excuse that they had a parcel or a gift and she let them in. SOCO is trying to get fingerprints. Whoever it was probably wore gloves.”

  “Well, I hope we catch this bastard.” Dorland adjusted his shoe protectors under his soles and entered the flat

  Theo followed his partner inside. The flat was exactly what Theo imagined a young woman’s flat to be: pink and white and full of flower prints. He walked over to a white desk in the corner of her living room and peered into the fish bowl on top. Something would have to be done about the fish. The flat was clean other than the fingerprint dust that now covered various items. The built in shelves held various photos—pictures of people at various weddings and other sunshine-filled events. Theo examined each one.

  “Dorland, find me Sharon Yoder’s next of kin, they should be told straight away.” He ran his gloved hand over one of the shelves.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “She must have cleaned the house lately. Not a speck of dust.”

  One of the SOC officers who stood nearby, nodded. “We haven’t found many fingerprints. She must have dusted these within the last day or two.”

  “Have any items from these shelves been collected?”

  “Not as far as I know. Why?”

  Theo stepped back. “So then, what was here?”

  SOCO gathered where Theo had pointed. “What was here? You can see the square mark in the wood from something that has been here, and now it’s empty. So what happened to the square item?” He went from shelf to shelf. “And here . . .” Theo pointed to another space. “What was here? I think we’re looking at a robbery.”

  Waynton asked, “You think this is a home invasion? Someone murdered her for her knick knacks?”

  “The landlord did say many flats had been burgled. Dorland . . .” Theo turned around and searched for his partner.

  Dorland exited Sharon’s bedroom. He held his mobile to his ear and was writing in his notebook. “Thank you.” He looked at Theo and held up his book. “I have the address of Sharon’s parents.”

  “Great. We’ll go there shortly. In the meantime, I want you to find the landlord and bring him here.”

  Theo walked toward a life-sized panther statue sitting beside the desk. The fingerprint dust revealed SOCO had lifted a clear set of prints around the base of the neck. He tried to lift the statue off the floor. “Shit. This thing is heavy. I’ll bet this is expensive. I want the results of the fingerprints from here, ASAP.”

  “Yes, sir.” a SOC officer replied.

  Theo stepped back out into the hall as Dorland and the landlord rounded the corner. “I want you to tell me about these home invasions.”

  “Is that what you think this is? She was murdered as part of a home invasion?”

  “I just want to know about the other robberies.”

  “They never happened when the home owners were there. No one has been hurt befor
e. Only a few pieces of jewelry and some cash. Nothing more.”

  “Where did they happen? Are they limited to this building or have they happened in the other two as well?”

  “Oh no, in the other two as well.” The landlord went over to the window in the hall that had a view to the communal gardens below. “There, in the building across on the sixth floor, and in the other building there, on the third floor and the second.”

  Theo looked where he was pointing but it had become dark outside.

  “What did the police say?”

  “We didn’t call the police.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, there were only a few things stolen and really, it wasn’t of any value.”

  “Were there any witnesses?”

  The landlord shook his head.

  “Please,” Theo said, “give me a list of the flats that were burgled. I want to interview the owner.”

  “They didn’t want to cause trouble.”

  “Well, I think there’s trouble now. Perhaps if the police had gotten involved sooner, this wouldn’t have happened,” Theo said angrily.

  The landlord nodded and motioned Dorland to follow him. “I have the information in my flat.”

  Theo returned to the victim’s flat and again started looking through the rooms. How did the home invasion escalate so fast? Was the home invasion only to hide the murder? Theo shook his head. He was lucky to notice items were missing. In fact, the items may not be stolen at all. Sharon may have thrown them away. As he went through the other rooms, he was less convinced that he was correct. Jewelry was left on the dresser. Some of it looked expensive. Why would they take a couple of things from the front room and leave this? It didn’t make any sense. Not unless the items stolen belonged to the killer. To be sure, he would have to find the culprits.

  Dorland returned with the list. “There were five so far, gov.”

  “Send some officers to talk to them and find out what happened. I want to know what was stolen. When they think the robberies occurred. Who they think is involved. Do they suspect they came from these flats or from elsewhere? Any information is helpful.”

  Dorland left again to give orders.

  By the bedside table, Theo picked up a photo of the deceased and a man who wasn’t in any of the other pictures, and in the one Theo held, he was very cozy with her.

  “Who do you think that is?” Dorland asked from behind him, almost laying his head on his shoulder. “Lover. Ex-lover?”

  “Judging from the fact that it was beside her bed, I would assume they’re still together.”

  “The woman had no wedding ring, and she lived with no one. So that could mean that our victim is either dating this man, or has broken it off and is still in love with him.”

  “We need to locate him. He may know why she was murdered. He may have done it. Maybe he worked with her.” Theo started going through all the drawers and cupboards while Dorland went through her drawer of knickers.

  “I think,” Dorland remarked, holding up knickers with less material than a Barbie bikini, “she was in a relationship.” He moved the knickers over in the drawer and lifted out a small dark blue velvet box, opening the box to reveal a small locket, “To S.Y. My Love From W.P. This seems to be from our mystery gentleman. Now we need to find out who W.P. is.”

  Theo held up a date book to Dorland, “I think I have a clue, a name, Walter, last week she has written, Meet Walter at Custom.”

  “Custom? What’s that? Airport? Bus? Maybe she had to meet him at the airport customs, he may travel overseas. Work related, do you imagine?”

  “Then why would she write custom and not customs? Meet him at custom, why not write meet him at the airport or something? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Spelling error? Heathrow is a large airport, it makes sense that one would need to be more specific.”

  “Then why not say this terminal or that, why customs, we don’t meet people at customs, we meet people at certain gates or luggage areas.”

  “Then what do you think it means?” He came over and looked over Dorland’s shoulder at the page. “She obviously understood what it meant and so added no further details. Now it’s our job to decode it.”

  A complete search of the house revealed nothing more; there was no Walter on either home phone or mobile. No love letters or documents. The computer contained more pictures of the couple but revealed nothing, nothing to help them place the man. Whomever he was, Theo concluded that Sharon was not going to make it easy for them to find out.

  Theo watched the coroner take the body away down the hall and watched as SOCO bagged and labelled various items around the room. He decided that it was not profitable to examine the flat until they had finished so he thought he would go down the hall and help the officers talk to the other tenants. The other officers were assigned the first floor, and were to work their way upstairs in order to give SOCO the time to finish up.

  Theo went to the door of the woman who found Sharon’s body and knocked. No one answered.

  “Where did she go?” Theo asked. “Did someone already take her statement?”

  Dorland shrugged.

  Writing down the number so he could return, Theo went on to the flat next to Sharon’s. This door was open and revealed a man sitting inside watching his television while the officers tramped by his door.

  “Hello there,” Theo yelled in.

  The man looked up at Theo as he held up his warrant card, then he waved him in.

  “Sit. I was waiting for one of you lot to come in and talk to me. I left my door open but no one came. Figure you have a lot of work to do on a case like that. My name is Frank Mitchell.”

  Theo gave his partner a quizzical look. “Oh, I had thought one of the officers would have been round your flat already.”

  “No.”

  “Well, I’m Detective Chief Inspector Theo Blackwell.” He held out his hand, which the man accepted warmly. “How long have you lived in this flat?”

  “A long bloody time,” the man said with an odd accent. “Five years, feels like an eternity. Can’t believe I have lived here that long. Every year I ask myself, ‘Self, are we going to move somewhere better this year?’ but every time my yearly lease expires, I just sign up for another. Glutton for punishment.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I was born in the Falklands, but my parents moved to London when I was ten.”

  Not knowing much about the land other than the penguins and the war, and not wanting to look like an idiot for not knowing, Theo moved on, “As you may already know, there was a death that occurred down the hall, a young woman named Sharon Yoder. Did you know her?”

  “Know is a word I’m not sure applies. I know she lives there, I know her name and what hours she keeps, but do I know her favorite color, food, or television series? No. Do I know who might want her dead or who had a motive to kill her? I don’t know that. Once in a while when she had to leave town, she will get me to watch her fish. She will bring me back a bottle of wine or a silly fridge magnet. But other than that, not much contact.”

  He pointed to the fridge where a handful of magnets in the shape of various tropical aquatic creatures hung.

  “You took care of her fish?” asked Theo.

  “That’s what I said. She brought Carotene here.” He thought for a minute or two. “Just what is going to happen to that fish? They’re not going to flush it are they? Because I’ll take it. It’s quiet and one of the few pets we’re allowed to keep here.”

  Theo smiled. “No, we don’t plan to flush it but it’s a good idea that you keep it. I’ll have one of the officers bring it over. If one of the members of her family want it—and that rarely happens with fish—I’ll let you know. Thank you for offering.”

  “Well, considering the circumstances, it’s the least I could do. I wish I had information as to who would do this to her.”

  “You heard nothing this afternoon?”

  “No, and usually I h
ear everything. Although, mostly from the flat upstairs. You might want to ask the tenant in the flat below. The floors are like sound conduits.”

  “We’ll do that,” replied Theo. “Did she have many other visitors?”

  “No, not really, I can say she is not one to host parties. She may attend them elsewhere but I don’t ever remember being kept up or being irritated because she had a party.”

  “What about visitors?”

  “Carpeted hall, really quiet. The one bloody place it’s quiet in the building. Can’t hear much coming or going really. Because her kitchen is against my wall here, I can hear a banged cupboard or if the fridge closed too loudly. Sometimes I can hear the bath water running, a mumble, mumble as she talks on the phone or the toilet flush. I really do hope there is a motive behind her death.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because if not, that means someone might come in and murder me too.”

  “This is a routine questions but, where were you at three in the afternoon?”

  He sat up straighter in his chair and smiled at Theo, “Unfortunately, I was here alone. I would have gone out, or tried to peep to see who the murderer was had I known in advance what was to happen. My dear lad, I will remember for the next time I become aware there is a murder afoot that I should arrange an alibi. If I was you, and I am not, I would think to look for someone with an alibi. For if one is in the habit of planning a murder with care, they carefully arrange an alibi in advance. I have no reason to kill her.”

  “Thank you for your advice, very helpful. Now, if you come across any more information that would be equally as helpful, please call me at this number.” Theo handed him a card.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Mr. and Mrs. Yoder lived in a small house on the outskirts of London. Theo took Dorland with him to meet the parents. It was nine o’clock at night and the house was dark inside.

  “I hope they’re home,” Dorland remarked.

  “There are two cars in front of the house. We should at least try now that we’re here.”