A Killer's Calling: Incite to Murder 1

by John Stuart Owen

  ‘Thank you DCC Warley.’ Kevin Crystal had the floor. ‘I have looked at the evidence that we have available and there is no doubt in my mind that these killings are the result of some drug deal going wrong. The methods used in putting these two men to death are clearly the work of a professional hit man and we will be looking at the big city drug lords to make a connection. I have seen killings of this nature before and know that organised crime is responsible.’

  Charlie felt a tug on his sleeve; Simon Hawkes spoke through the corner of his mouth. ‘I saw that movie too.’

  Crystal continued, ‘I’ll be dividing you up into small teams and we will be pursuing all leads to their logical conclusions.’

  * * *

  Under DI Kevin Crystal’s command, the Murder Investigation Team moved into action. Attempts were made to implicate the victims in drug running activities but other than finding a small amount of cannabis in one of their burnt out vehicles, no progress was made. The months passed and although fully mobilised, they found nothing to connect the victims to any criminal gangs. With no further incidents to investigate, the team began to lose members to more pressing cases. The questions from above had ceased; this could only mean changes were afoot. Kevin was no fool and the thought of him having to relinquish his post was eating into him. He had wallowed in the self pride and importance of his new elevated position but now, he was under the hammer and he knew it.

  Chapter 10

  The Monday morning progress meeting was limping along. The four surviving members of the team were now pretty used to the format and DI Kevin Crystal had little positive to put forward. All likely options had been covered weeks earlier and to carry on doing the same things would continue bringing the same results; which is how the team now viewed their current position.

  Simon Hawkes, the joker of the pack decided to inject some humour. ‘You know . . . what we need is another murder!’

  A voice from the back was quick to respond. ‘Any more comments like that and it could be yours.’

  The meeting broke up with cursing and laughter, and they set about doing what they did best . . . looking busy.

  * * *

  Janet Warley sat slumped in her chair. A meeting earlier in the day hadn’t gone well. The words of her chief were still ringing in her ears. Overweight and overbearing, the pompous George Brady had let rip.

  We have never had a serial killer in this part of the world but now it appears we have, and it has to happen on my watch. You have made no progress towards solving these murders and this mess reflects very badly on me. That chap Crystal that you put in charge of this case is an idiot. I was only in his company for two bloody minutes and knew then that he was an incompetent misfit. What the hell were you thinking?

  Did you think that if you looked into one of his “crystal balls”, you might get a glimpse of the future?

  Janet tried to interject but Brady was on a roll. He huffed and puffed as he read her the Riot Act.

  If you don’t get this one put to bed by Christmas, a career change might be on the cards. With all the cut-backs we’re facing, you just might find yourself back on the beat!

  Pleased with his delivery he rocked back on his heels, nodded agreement at his own performance and made his departure.

  Janet was well aware that the unit she had set up for solving these crimes had failed to deliver. It had bothered her for weeks but what she didn’t need was a trumped up braggart like George Brady telling her so. Gathering herself together, she reached for the phone. DI Matthew Black was busy, he was always busy. Paperwork, the bane of the detective’s lives, had them tied forever to their desks, which is where he was when the call came in.

  ‘Matt, Janet Warley here. Can you come to my office please?’

  ‘I’m busy with some reports at the moment, can I . . . ?’

  ‘Now Matt!’ And she slammed the receiver down.

  He looked at the dead phone . . . What’s rattled her cage? Matt eased himself out of his chair, pushing the unfinished crossword to one side. His jacket was draped over the back of the chair and he slid his arm into the sleeve as he stood up. He stared into the mirror that hung crookedly from a single nail. Better look the part! He straightened his tie and flashed his teeth, moving his head to and fro as he studied his image. His dark eyes looked disapprovingly back; his dour look hiding a carefree countenance. He tried a smile; it didn’t work, but he felt ready to face whatever abuse his boss was waiting to throw at him.

  Janet was standing in the doorway of her office. With a solemn acknowledgement of his presence, she waved him in. ‘See we are not disturbed.’ The PA gave her a nod.

  ‘Sit down Matt; we may be a while.’ She preferred him sitting; his six foot frame was less imposing. Matt duly obliged, saying nothing . . . he was intrigued to find out what was bothering her. She was usually so “in control”, but he could see that she was close to losing it.

  ‘Matt’ . . . she hesitated. ‘Matt, firstly I would like to talk to you “off the record”.’

  Matt shrugged as he signalled silent approval.

  ‘When I appointed Kevin Crystal to lead the team in the investigation of the double homicides, I should have selected you. You were the obvious choice and I understand how you must have felt, but dammit Matt, you were on leave and I was under enormous pressure to get things on the go . . . and Crystal was available. Well I would like to apologise. It has proven to be poor judgement on my part, I admit to that . . . but now I would like you to take over this case, with immediate effect.’

  Matt was taken aback. He hadn’t seen this one coming. ‘But I've got cases on the go!’

  ‘I'm aware of that. I have already made plans to have them taken care of.’

  ‘Does Crystal know of this?’

  ‘No, but I will inform him immediately you give me your OK . . . not that I need it . . . but I need to know that you’re happy with the set- up.’

  Matt hoped his face didn’t mirror the pleasure he was feeling at the thought of Kevin Crystal’s world in tatters. He’s not going to be happy!

  ‘Something else you should know, this site, this stately house and the surrounding properties have been home to the force since 47, but those who guide us and rule over us have decided in their wisdom to put it on the market, so we will all be leaving our proud base for pastures new.’

  Matt had been based at Leek Wooton for some fifteen years; the news took him by surprise. ‘So when this place must have been worth a fortune, they chose to use it as our headquarters but now the market is on the bones of its arse they decide to sell!’

  ‘That wouldn’t have been my choice of words, but yes I think you have it.

  Something else you should know, there are going to be some unpleasant decisions to be made as staffing levels are going to be reduced. I see a number of our top people being forced into early retirement and I’m not excluding myself from that list.

  I will be speaking to Kevin Crystal later today and will be suggesting to him that he accepts a golden handshake. Actually I'm dressing this up, like he has an option . . . he’s going whether he likes it or not. So Matt, do I have you on board? Can we move forward and set about solving these grisly murders?’

  Matt struggled to hide a smile. ‘Well, yes; I’ll give it my best shot!’

  ‘I’m glad you said yes Matt, because I've already informed the rest of the team of the impending changes.’

  ‘How did you know that I would accept?’

  ‘Oh Matt give me some credit! By the way, you are going to be one of the first casualties in our headquarters re-shuffle. I have located a local station in Wellesbourne that is underused. It is perfectly situated and very central to your needs, in fact it is only about four miles from the first murder scene. You will be able to focus completely on the case in hand. I need results Matt and I'm relying on you to deliver, Oh and by the way, they’ve given us until Christmas.’

  ‘When do I get to brief the team?’

  ‘I’ll call her n
ow and you can get acquainted.’

  ‘What do you mean . . . her?’ Matt, now agitated, responded aggressively.

  ‘Whatever happened to the squad that started on this case?’

  ‘Since you ask . . . as there were no further victims and our enquiries had come to nothing, it was decided to scale down our response. As you well know we are short on manpower and it was felt that our limited resources could be better utilised. I had to lose three to some anti terrorist surveillance and we lost some here and some there, which brings us to the present day.’

  ‘So let’s get this right. I have now got one individual to assist me in completely re-investigating this case and to come up with the culprits who were responsible. Your team of God knows how many, failed to come up with even one lead in how many months? And I have got to deliver a result in about eight weeks, or we are all out of a job.’

  Janet eased back in her chair, ‘Yes, that’s about it.’

  Matt sat quietly, now in pensive mood. ‘You know Janet, we’re told that by reducing the numbers in the force, we are able, with the efficiencies created by these magical moves, to deliver a better service to the public. Why don’t we lay off a few more thousand and make it better still?’

  ‘Stick around Matt, you may get your wish; right, let me get Detective Constable Graham down here. The sooner you get acquainted, the sooner we can get going.’ Janet opened the inter-office door and motioned to the PA with a nod. Matt didn’t miss the pre arranged signal. She turned her attention back to him. ‘Detective Graham won't be long but while we wait for her, let’s go over the details. I have already told Kevin Crystal that the lack of progress on this case hasn’t gone unnoticed. I didn’t expand on that but gave him a couple of weeks to give me reason to persevere with his involvement. That leaves him about a week to get some positive lead in place. It’s not going to happen but what that week gives us, is time for you to tidy up your case load and hand them over to Jack Tallis; he knows they’re coming, but has been sworn to secrecy. No one else but us knows the direction this is taking.’ They were interrupted by the PA’s head appearing around the door . . . another knowing nod and glance. ‘Send her in.’

  Matt took a deep breath. What am I going to be saddled with here? A stunning young woman entered the room. As she turned, her long black hair swung tantalizingly away to reveal her perfect features. Her eyes sparkled and danced around the room before settling on Matt’s. His jaw dropped; his tense, taut face relaxing into a half smile. Janet saw the change, but then she was looking for it.

  ‘Thanks for coming so promptly detective.’ Janet waved her into the room.

  ‘Detective Constable Graham, let me introduce you to Detective Inspector Matthew Black.’

  Matt shuffled forward, he extended his hand. ‘Pleased to meet you detective . . . This is all a bit formal!’

  ‘I agree . . . the name is Orla.’

  Matt was always uneasy in the company of attractive women; his head was already in a mess with this one. He clumsily offered, ‘That’s an unusual name!’

  ‘Not in Ireland.’

  ‘Oh . . . you’re Irish!’

  ‘They told me you were perceptive.’

  ‘I get that a lot.’

  Matt’s smile had been softly growing throughout the banter, Orla reflecting his quiet mirth. She had the measure of him and he knew it.

  Janet interjected. ‘Matt, Detective Graham has been involved with this case from the start so she can help you going over the case files. I want the two of you to start putting together a list of all items of office ware that you are going to need at your Wellesbourne base.’ She produced a roll of stick-on labels. ‘Use these to mark up any cabinets, files or equipment that you wish to take from your offices and I will see to it that they are installed at the new site. I need you in place and operating there by Monday week, so I need you to get cracking, but please, no-one outside our present company must know what’s afoot. When we are good and ready to let it be known, the call must come from me.’

  Now back in his office, Matt was attempting to come to terms with what had just happened. Wow, big changes. He breathed deeply as feelings of apprehension began to filter through his body.

  I can’t see much good coming from this shake up . . . He pondered the thought.

  Mind you, anything that’s going to upset the apple-cart for Crystal should be given a chance . . . and I’m going to be the main protagonist. And then there’s Orla. He began to feel better . . . much better.

  Chapter 11

  Matt sat in his favourite chair, feet up on a battered pouffe as he thumbed his way through the dozens of channels his cable package had to offer . . . Nothing. ‘Bloody shite!’ He was fed up of the detective dramas with their slick crime solving teams. He had just watched the computer wizard, call up the male population of a small town and short list them into a choice of three; one dead; one inside; problem solved. It’s a fucking comedy show!

  His ringing mobile brought him back to reality. ‘Matt . . . Janet Warley. We’ve just been informed that a body has been found in a burnt out car. I need you on site now! We need to know if this death is connected to the others. Crystal hasn’t been informed so you will be the investigating officer on site. He’s not going to be happy when he finds you’ve taken over but I’ll cross that bridge tomorrow.’

  ‘Where is it? Where did it happen?’

  ‘Quite close to you, in Knowle . . . small bridle path, halfway down Station Road, serves Greswolde House. The local police have sealed off the area and are waiting for you.’

  ‘I know where it is. I’m on my way.’ Matt’s heart was racing; I need Orla with me on this. His call to her mobile was picked up on the second ring. ‘Orla . . . Matt Black. We have a new victim; burnt out car as previous. We need to check it out now!’ Matt gave her the details.

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  Half an hour later, a pumped up Matt Black turned into the service road that led to a couple of business properties. After a few hundred yards it narrowed off to an unmetalled bridle path. He drove up to the tape barrier some 50 yards from the action. The lights of a fire engine lit up the crime scene like daylight. He jumped from his car to be met by a uniformed constable.

  ‘Sorry sir but I’m afraid you can’t come any closer; we have a situation here.’

  ‘It’s all right constable, I’m the investigating officer.’ Matt flashed his warrant card. ‘What have we got?’

  ‘Call came in about 11 o’clock reporting a car on fire. The fire service got here quickly . . . managed to get quite close but the track is only just wide enough for the fire-engine. They got the hoses down past the unit but couldn’t get too close as the wind was blowing the flames back towards them. They proceeded to douse the car with a couple of high pressure hoses. Got the fire out but the car was a wreck as you can see. It was only then that they saw that there was a body in the driver’s seat. That’s all I can tell you. We got here soon after, so we cordoned the site off to wait for you guys. Is it just you they sent?’

  ‘My colleague will be here shortly; we’ll see what we can find, but we may have to wait for daylight before our investigation can proceed.’

  At that moment Matt looked up to see Orla approaching; he walked to meet her.

  ‘Sorry to drag you out so late.’

  ‘That’s OK. What’s gone on?’

  ‘It looks like the work of our man. Body in a burned out car; got a torch? Let’s go and see what we can find.’ Dipping under the tape barrier, they gingerly approached the car. The deluge of water had reduced the track to a quagmire. ‘Don’t think the forensic boys are going to be too happy trying to sort through this mess.’

  Orla scrunched up her nose, ‘God the smell, it’s awful.’

  Matt laughed. ‘Combination of meat and plastic . . . not something you ever get used to.’ He reached the rear door; the window had fractured. Peering in, he shone the torch. ‘My God . . .’

  Orla was trying to look over his sho
ulder. ‘What is it?’ Matt moved aside. The burnt carcase of a small dog was hanging from its chain leash which in turn was wound around the driver’s neck.

  ‘Be a while before I face another Donner Kebab.’

  ‘Oh! How could you, she gasped. ‘That poor dog!’

  ‘What about the poor sod up front. It looks like he was strangled with the leash.’

  Orla pushed him aside. ‘I just want to see if we have any other similarities.’

  ‘What are you looking for?’

  ‘Found it!’ she turned around, her face flushed from the effort. ‘The bicycle spoke . . . It’s there! . . . stuck through his back. Looks like we’re in business!’

  ‘OK . . .we’ll have to get this whole car lifted and carried back to base. Forensics will need to take their time extracting what they can from the carnage. The firemen haven’t done us a lot of favours; their hoses will have swept away any likely evidence. This car contains our crime scene and I want it moved en bloc back to the forensic lab. I want them working on this before morning. By tomorrow night all the info’ that can be extracted from this wreck needs to be in our hands. Orla, while I’m trying to sort that out, can you take down the registration. Get on the blower and let’s find out who we have here.’

  Orla sat in her car, the walk had left her breathless; her pulse was racing. A detective’s life is usually spent writing up dull reports and interviewing evasive witnesses, this was different; she warmed to the challenge.

  Her call to Leek Wooton was picked up immediately. ‘I need all the information you can give me on this registration.’ She reeled off the number. ‘Call me back; I’m waiting, so please, can you get right on to it?’