A Killer's Calling: Incite to Murder 1

by John Stuart Owen

  ‘What about the dog. Did you tell them we need a tooth, jaw line impression to match up these bite marks?’

  ‘Sure did . . . but they’ve destroyed the carcase!’

  Matt raised his hands in disbelief. ‘You’ve got to be bloody joking! . . . the one piece of evidence that we could have nailed the bastard on, they’ve thrown on the bloody fire.’

  ‘It’s not really their fault boyo . . . I mean how would they know a darn dog held the answer to this murder?’

  Orla stepped in. ‘It’s all right Bryn; no-ones to blame. You are right, they weren’t to know, but I’ve got an idea.’ She took Matt’s arm. ‘Maybe there is some evidence at the house that we can use as a match?’

  Matt was silent as her words sank in. ‘Of course! What would I do without you?’

  ‘We’ll take my car . . . It’ll be quicker than walking!’ Bryn had his keys in hand and was already on his way.

  ‘We will be back shortly Andrew, hopefully with some evidence that we can use.’

  Half an hour later, three despondent bodies emerged from the Sturgess house . Nothing worthwhile had been found. The dog had gnawed on everything in sight but had reduced most items to little more than sawdust. Plastic food bowls had been consumed, the evidence of which was littered around in many of the piles of animal faeces that adorned the property.

  ‘Well that’s it then! We know he is as guilty as sin, but I can’t see the CPS going for a prosecution with what we have. Some smart arsed lawyer could easily sway a jury with what we could present as evidence.’ He leant on the car, his head resting on his arms. ‘Shit . . . I thought we had him! I really thought we had him.’

  Chapter 56

  ‘Good afternoon Officers!’ The postman had arrived; his small van creeping up on them had arrived unnoticed. ‘How are we today?’ A frosty silence met his greeting.

  ‘Congratulations on finding the body of that old rogue. I know that we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but I’m glad I won’t be seeing that bloody dog of his again. It made the Baskerville hound look like something from Crufts. You see that gate . . . it’s got some new panels in it. That was because of me. I came here one day and the bloody thing attacked me through the gate. It was on a chain, but it still got to me. Took a bloody great bite of my leg.’ And he pointed down at his right leg. ‘Got me right here and wouldn’t let go.’

  Orla stiffened, ‘You poor man . . . Did it leave any lasting wounds?’

  The Postman laughed. ‘It would have done to most people, but,’ he rolled up his trouser leg to reveal a prosthetic limb. ‘I lost this in the Falklands, so all he did was bugger up my false leg.’

  Matt was eager to see the gash. ‘Where’s the bite?’

  ‘There’s nothing on this one. They replaced the leg with a new one a couple of weeks ago. Much better materials now you know.’

  ‘What about the old one?’ Matt’s heart was pounding.

  ‘It’s in the garage at home. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Does it have any teeth marks in it?’

  ‘Why don't you follow me home? I only live about a mile down the road. You can have a look for yourself.’

  The two vehicles pulled up outside the tidy bungalow. ‘Give me a minute.’

  Three pairs of eyes watched on in silence for the postman’s return. His cheery voice brought them back to the task in hand. ‘Here you are. It only goes up to the knee. You can see this one is made of wood and fibreglass. The modern ones are much more realistic . . . better ankle movement as well.’

  Matt took the leg. . . . ‘Look Orla? Look at that?’ The teeth marks could be clearly seen. ‘God . . . I think we’ve done it! We need to check this against the knobkerrie. We can hardly do a forensic job but we’ll have a bloody good idea if we are on course.’

  Their hurried arrival back at “Beach View” drew immediate attention. ‘How did you get on?’

  Matt pointed the leg in the general direction of the question. ‘We just might have something here! Andrew, can you get the knobkerrie?’

  Positioning the items alongside each other in order to match the teeth impressions proved difficult. Matt’s frustration at their lack of success was beginning to show. ‘This is hopeless!’

  ‘Get me some paper . . . a sheet of A4 . . . anything.’ Orla looked up for a taker.

  ‘Here you are.’ Andrew produced a wad from the printer.

  She placed the edge of the paper so as to touch the bite impressions on the leg. ‘Here, mark with your pen the two points . . . that’s right . . . across the width of the bite.’ Matt carefully followed orders. ‘Now try and line it up with the marks on the knobkerrie.’ The silence was deafening.

  ‘Perfect! . . .Matt beamed. ‘It’s a perfect match Orla. We’ve got him!’

  ‘Well boyo, I have to admit, what you have achieved here is nothing short of a miracle. We’ve still got to convince the CPS, but on the basis of the evidence we have, it should just be a formality. Andrew, I think that you are going to have to come to terms with the knowledge that your mother’s death was no accident but was in fact a heinous crime carried out by this . . . maniac, Crystal.’ Andrew had found himself a seat; he sat quietly, his hand against his brow.

  ‘Bryn we need to talk!’ Matt motioned him to follow him out of the room. ‘You are going to have to get all this written up. The evidence needs to be logged and submitted. Without the forensic proof, all we have is a walking stick and a false leg.’

  ‘Don’t forget the CCTV pictures!’

  ‘Yes of course Bryn, without those we only have half a case. Can you send me a copy of all the evidence? I’ve still got to build a case against Crystal for a homicide on our patch and I need all I can get.’

  ‘Say no more Matt; it’s as good as done.’

  Matt looked at his watch. ‘We have to take our leave. Max hasn’t got an instrument rating so we need to be back before dark.’

  ‘What else haven’t you told me?’

  ‘Nothing Orla’. He smiled . . . ‘Nothing honest!’

  ‘I think you had better let me ride up front on the way back . . . just in case!’

  Goodbyes were short. Piet was first to offer his hand. ‘It has been a pleasure meeting you . . . and especially you.’

  Orla smiled in response. ‘Andrew should feel privileged to have friends like you. You have been responsible for almost single handedly uncovering what has gone on here. When are you heading off home to your beautiful country?’

  ‘We leave at the end of the week . . . Have you been to South Africa?’

  ‘No, but I have friends who honeymooned there; they had many stories.’

  ‘Such as?’ Piet was always interested in firsthand accounts of his homeland.

  ‘Such as, all the dogs are called Voetsek!’

  Piet began to smile . . . slowly at first. ‘Well . . .’ he looked across at Kobus who rolled his eyes as he turned away. ‘Kobus has three dogs and I’ve never heard him call them anything else . . . so your friend has probably hit on something there.’ The twinkle in Piet’s eye went unseen by Orla, but not by Kobus. Their smiles quickly grew into laughter; they felt good.

  Bryn had them back at the airstrip with time to spare. Max had listened intently to them discussing the day’s events.

  ‘Sounds like you found what you came for?’

  ‘It couldn’t have gone better! Their heads nodded in agreement. Bryn watched from the car as they slowly taxied towards their planned starting point. A sharp 180 degree turn had them facing down the field.

  ‘Is it long enough?’ Matt’s nervous call from the back seat drew a quick response.

  ‘Would you rather we used the road?’ Max’s voice chortled with mirth. ‘Are you buckled up?’

  All checks and settings completed . . . a quick visual above and behind and they were ready.

  The throttle wide open, had them hurtling forward. Their speed rose quickly and with a wave from an anxiously watching Bryn, they were airborne and on their way.

>   Nothing was said between them as Max busied himself inputting data; a conversation with Baginton became heated. Eventually he huffed and sighed as he spoke. ‘They are not very happy with me. Seems cloud cover at Baginton is at six eighths and two thousand feet. I’ve only got a PPL and if it deteriorates any further they may turn us back.’ Silence greeted his comments. ‘You know what they say . . . time to spare . . . go by air!’

  Orla had been quiet. Sitting in the right hand seat had brought back a lot of memories. Her flying experience was considerable. She had assisted her brother with the practical execution of his instrument rating and was confident she could handle any emergency.

  Max was in touch with the tower. ‘They are asking me to divert!’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Kiddlington! That’s bloody miles away and we are only fifteen minutes out!’

  Orla had been there before. ‘Tell them you are low on fuel!’

  Max came off the radio. ‘That did the trick; they’re not happy but we have been allowed to join circuit.’

  The cloud persisted as they completed their downwind leg. Now on short finals and with the fall in altitude, their vision improved; the crisis that had loomed was behind them.

  ‘Well folks . . . we made it!’ Max was back to his jovial self and they taxied rapidly to their designated spot on the apron. As the engine died, the prop came unevenly to rest, bouncing back in one final lurch.

  ‘Max, you have been great. You have saved us so much hassle. We would have been driving for nearly two days . . . Brilliant!’

  Orla was quick to follow suit, ‘Thanks Max, I enjoyed that. It’s been a while since I flew in something like this and what we achieved today is going to change a few people’s lives.’

  ‘For the better I hope!’

  ‘Actually Max . . . No! There is someone that is going to be very unhappy with what we unearthed today, but as they say, you’ll read all about it! Did I hear the tower say they wanted to speak with you?’

  Max responded with a nervous laugh. ‘Nothing I haven’t heard before . . . They’ll be fine . . . just a little slap on the wrist . . .but thanks for the fuel dodge.’

  ‘What do we owe you Max?’ Matt reached for his wallet.

  ‘Nothing Matt . . . Nothing! You saved me a small fortune when you caught those bastards thieving from me. God knows how long it had been going on. Anyway I’m not allowed to take money for hire or reward; but you know that.’

  ‘It would be cash in hand!’

  ‘If your money is burning a hole in your pocket, then spend it on Orla; take her out for a meal . . . and a show . . . she’s earned it!’

  ‘I’m not sure she’d take me up on the offer right now Max; but I’ll ask her.’ Matt chanced a look in Orla’s direction but she averted his fleeting glance.

  Too easy Mr. Black . . . that’s much too easy!

  Chapter 57

  Chief Inspector Cornish listened; impassioned by what he was hearing, his morning coffee had been neglected. The thought that Kevin Crystal was guilty of such devious and savage cruelty had fired him up.

  ‘So this Ana woman played no part in the death of the schoolteacher; you were just hiding your real thoughts from Janet Warley?’

  ‘Yes Sir . . . That is correct.’

  ‘You have to get this case written up today. You know it will need to be watertight. I would like to have him in custody here before we get a directive from bloody Wales to apprehend him on the charges that will be forthcoming from there. But well done . . . both of you! Damn well done!’

  They arrived back at Wellesbourne within minutes of each other. Orla wandered in with milk and treats from the bakery. ‘Thought we might need some sustenance while we work on this lot.’

  ‘Great.’ . . . Matt was quiet.

  ‘What’s up?’ He didn’t answer.

  ‘Let me guess . . . Catherine . . . Bloody Catherine!’

  He turned slowly towards her: he knew the very mention of her name would raise the tension. ‘Before we can complete our report, we are going to have to speak to Catherine. She was there while all this shit was happening in Wales. She even paid for the tow off the beach. We need her account of what went on. How did Kevin get to dispose of Sturgess without her picking up on anything? We need to know. We can’t proceed with our case while we’ve got this glaring hole in our evidence.’

  Orla acknowledged their plight. ‘Yes, I know . . . I know you’re right. How do you suggest we make contact?’

  ‘It’s difficult. We have to make certain that Kevin is totally unaware that we are closing in. If he gets an inkling that we are on to him, I think we would put Catherine in immediate danger. We can’t call or text her; Kevin could intercept the call.’

  Orla tried to be positive. ‘I believe she is still working at the Royal Priors. Perhaps we can bump into her there. She has to go on lunch.’

  Matt thought it through. ‘Yes . . . I like it! Just one thing . . . You are going to have to do it. If she sees me . . . I don’t know what her reaction will be. We haven’t spoken since the split. If I drop this bombshell on her, who knows how she will take it.’

  ‘Right . . . No time like the present.’ Orla was halfway out the door before Matt was out of his chair. ‘I’ll drive Matt . . . you can lie low.’

  The town was quiet and parking at the Priors Mall, was quick and easy. ‘I’ll get the parking ticket, you get off and see if you can find her.’ Orla stepped out of the lift and merged with the few shoppers that were drifting around; La Senza was empty. Orla eyed the window display, her eyes drifting along the counters searching for the delicate form that would be Catherine. There you are! Catherine was busy refolding some lingerie. I’m not going to wait. It’s now or never . . . here goes. Orla walked briskly into the shop and made for her quarry.

  Catherine looked up as she approached. ‘Good morning; how may I help you? Oh! . . . we’ve met!’

  Orla offered a big open smile. ‘Indeed we have!’

  ‘You worked for Kevin at Leek Wooton when he was involved with those murders.’

  ‘I’m still involved with them Catherine.’

  ‘But I read recently that they had been solved!’ She shuffled nervously.

  ‘Catherine . . . I need to speak with you privately. Is it possible to get away for half an hour?’

  She hesitated before replying. ‘I suppose so . . . we are not very busy. I could take my break early. Could you just wait outside for a moment? I will join you.’

  Orla nodded and turned away. Moving outside she espied a bench and settled onto it, her back to the shop.

  A few minutes passed before Catherine emerged. ‘I see you’ve found a seat.’ Her manner had warmed a little. ‘Would you like to go for a coffee?’

  ‘Actually Catherine, this will do fine. I need to talk with you and this is quite private . . . No eavesdroppers!’

  ‘What is it you want to speak to me about that is so . . . well, secret?’

  ‘Where is Kevin at the moment?’ Orla was on edge and needed to know their meeting would go unseen.

  ‘He went to London for the day. A Motor Show I think! Why would you want to know where he is?’

  ‘I just need to know that he won’t disturb us . . . Catherine, you were in Wales for a few days . . . middle of September.’

  ‘Yes, we picked up a new car; a Land Rover. Why do you ask?’

  ‘You had a problem on the beach. You got stuck in the sand!’

  ‘Yes we did and we had to get a horrible man to tow us off . . . and he charged us over two thousand pounds for the pleasure. We were so upset. It actually ruined our holiday.’

  ‘You stayed in a guest house across the road.’

  ‘Yes a lovely lady . . . Mrs. Vaughan. She was from South Africa you know.’

  ‘Yes, I met her son, Andrew.’

  ‘Oh! . . . we never met him.’

  ‘This man who towed you off the beach. His name was Sturgess?’

  ‘Yes that’s right. I had to tr
ansfer him the money! I’ll not forget the name. How is it you know all this . . .?’ She was struggling to recall her name.

  ‘It’s Orla, Catherine. . . . Mr. Sturgess and his dog were thrown off the cliff the second night you were there and Mrs. Vaughan was killed shortly before you left for home!’

  Catherine’s jaw dropped. ‘Oh my God! . . . Who could have done such a wicked thing? But Mrs. Vaughan was fine when we left. I saw Kevin talking to her in the hallway. Oh! How dreadful. Do you know who did it? . . . Have you caught them?’

  ‘Yes Catherine . . . we know who did it, and we will be making an arrest in the very near future.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that. You can’t have these people walking around can you!’

  ‘No Catherine we can’t, which is why I am here talking to you.’

  ‘I don’t understand . . . How can I possibly help?’

  ‘There’s no easy way to put this so I’m going to have to come straight out with it!’ She looked about to see if they were still on their own. ‘Your husband . . . Kevin Crystal committed both of these murders!’

  Catherine remained expressionless . . . all colour drained from her already pale cheeks. ‘No . . . that can’t be right! I was with him the whole time. It’s not possible. No . . . you must be mistaken!’

  Orla began to relate to Catherine what they had obtained from the CCTV. The hour long excursion that Kevin had undertaken . . . the five or six minutes when he had doubled back into the house. ‘How did he get out to deal with Sturgess without you knowing?’

  ‘He ran me a bath, which he had never done before and he poured me a Baileys. I think he put something in the drink because I passed out and woke up feeling like a zombie.’

  ‘What about his return to the house to deal with Mrs. Vaughan?’

  ‘He thought he had forgotten his dressing gown! He went to look for it.’