28
Saturday Late Afternoon
Low Coniscliffe, Darlington
On the sofa in the living room, Claire was tired, her eyes barely staying open, watching the television fixed to the wall above the fireplace. Little Alan had started moving in her belly more recently and, although getting as comfortable as she could, she hadn’t been sleeping very well on a night.
The front door opened. She looked toward the hallway, seeing Byrd appear. ‘You okay, Claire?’
She smiled and looked back at the television. ‘Has anyone seen anything?’
He padded a few steps in but didn’t sit down. ‘No, no one. Rick and Mary down the road have a camera that shows much of the street, but we couldn’t see a thing. No one has heard anything in a few days. Nothing else has gone missing. Probably just a passer-by, trying his luck.’
‘Hope so,’ she said slowly. ‘Can I have something to eat?’
‘What would one like?’
‘Up to the head chef. Surprise me.’
Byrd smiled, turned, and left the living room, then took his shoes off and positioned them near the front door under the piles of coats. It had been a long day. He went into the kitchen and grabbed some pasta and sauce from the cupboard and set it away in the oven.
His phone rang in his pocket. He was half expecting the call and answered it.
‘Hi, Jacob,’ said Byrd.
‘Hey, Max,’ replied Tallow.
‘All done at the flat?’
‘Yeah, we finished a little while ago.’ Tallow paused a moment. ‘In the way of prints and traces of DNA, there’s nothing out of the ordinary that stands out. Have you seen the camera footage yet?’
‘No, not yet. Still waiting on the maintenance man to call.’
‘Okay.’ Byrd leaned over to check the pasta in the oven, which was cooking away nicely.
‘We did find something interesting in the bedroom though,’ Tallow then said.
‘What’s that?’
‘Under her desk, there was a bug stuck to the underside of it.’
‘A bug?’
‘A listening device. Something you guys know all about.’ Tallow then explained what it looked like and Byrd agreed it was very likely a remote listening device. ‘There was also a business card positioned on top of her closed laptop.’
‘What type of business card?’
‘An electrician's card with the name Roger Carlton on it.’
‘Roger Carlton…’
‘Yeah.’
Byrd fell silent for a few moments, thinking hard. Without seeing the cameras and finding out if Jane Ericson had gone up to her flat by herself, it was obvious that Roger Carlton aka Mackenzie Dilton had been in her flat at some point. If so, there was a similarity with the fire at Napier Street and his frequent visits there before the actual murder. This had been planned, similar to the last one. And not only that, Mackenzie Dilton had been there at the scene with them, same as he was in Napier Street, posing as a member of the fire department. It was like he was checking on his work, making sure his plan had worked as he intended.
‘Also, there’s something else,’ Tallow said. ‘On the back of the Roger Carlton card, it said to look at this laptop.’
‘Where is the laptop?’
‘I spoke to Orion. He told me to contact Mac from DFU. Mac said he was working today, so when we dropped off some samples to the lab, I left the laptop with him, telling him that Tanzy had requested a check on it to see if anything stood out.’
Byrd was surprised that Tanzy hadn’t mentioned it.
‘Okay, thanks for letting me know. Good work, Jacob. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.’
‘I’ll try.’ Tallow hung up the phone, and the line went dead.
Byrd put the phone back into his pocket.
A little while after, he took out the pasta and plated some up for Claire, who, when he walked into the living room, found her asleep. He smiled, placed the plate down onto the coffee table with some cutlery and stood for a moment, watching her, the way she held her belly, holding their son, comforting him as he grew inside. He leaned down, placed a palm on her stomach and kissed her forehead. He couldn’t wait to meet Alan. His only regret is that his parents wouldn’t have the chance to see him but that’s something he’d have to get over.
29
Saturday Evening
Darlington
Mackenzie Dilton sat at his desk, his hand on the mouse, clicking and scrolling. There was a deep focus in his eyes. When he concentrated, nothing distracted him. He knew what he wanted and knew how to get it.
Danny Walters had been pretty straight forward. Everything had gone to plan. Killing his family in the process was unfortunate, but he wouldn’t dwell on it too much. It was Danny’s fault.
Jane Ericson had been a breeze too. As long as he continued to stay focused and prepared, the plans would fall into place.
But, he had to admit, he was cutting it fine.
Earlier that morning had been the second time that DI Tanzy had seen him. Whether or not the detective inspector had noticed him was a different matter, but he knew it was a dangerous game to play, being there at the scene, involving himself when, perhaps, he didn’t need to.
The difference was he wanted to make sure his plan had worked.
After his preparations, he needed to check they were dead. When DI Byrd had opened the French doors four floors up, he called Jane’s phone. He knew what ringtone would blast out because before he left in the early hours, he’d downloaded the ringtone, then checked it would be loud enough.
And boy was it.
As soon as the phone went off, as well as seeing the anxiety in Byrd’s serious face and his pathetic attempt to reach for her, he watched Jane twitch, then panic, and it didn’t take long for her to fall over the edge. In less than a second, she hit the floor with a sickening splat.
Even he admitted it wasn’t pleasant.
But when everyone jumped back in terrified shock, he casually placed his phone into his pocket and walked away. Everyone had been too concerned with Jane’s mangled body down on the concrete to notice him disappear.
For a moment, he stopped what he was doing, looked at the printed sheet of paper to his left, the names underneath Danny Walters and Jane Ericson. He went through the names in his mind, thinking about who was next and how he’d implement his plan. It needed to be right.
Moving on, deciding he’d come back to it later, he finished editing the video on the screen. He watched it over and over, making a few tweaks, and finally smiled, happy it was ready to go.
He opened YouTube and logged in. He wasn’t worried about being traced because he’d protected himself and his location, his IP address changing every ten seconds, bouncing around the globe, making it almost impossible for the most intelligent of IT wizards to trace.
He clicked on UPLOAD and sat back, waiting for the download bar to reach one hundred percent. He leaned back, smiled, and closed his eyes. He couldn’t wait for the havoc it would cause.
30
Saturday Evening
Low Coniscliffe, Darlington
A few hours later, Claire had woken up, feeling hungry. Byrd warmed her food, brought it into the living room and placed it down on the coffee table in front of her.
‘There you go,’ said Byrd. ‘How are you feeling?’
She shuffled up to a sitting position and leaned forward to grab the bowl of pasta bake. ‘I’m tired, Max.’
He took a seat next to her, smiled, and rubbed her back for a moment. ‘I can’t wait to see him, you know. I wonder what he’ll look like?’
‘I bet he’s a chunk, like you!’ she said, with a playful grin.
‘I’m actually categorised at an ideal weight now,’ replied Byrd. And he was right. After losing two stone there wasn’t much left on him. He wouldn’t be on the cover of Men’s Health magazine, or modelling swimwear, or would never be as finely tuned as Tanzy, but he was doing well. Certainly, an improvement to what he wa
s like six months ago. He felt better, felt sharper, fitter. He enjoyed football, being able to run longer and quicker.
‘I know,’ said Claire, rubbing his thigh lovingly. ‘You’ve done so well. It’s my turn to be a fatty now.’ She patted her stomach with her free hand.
Byrd leaned to the side to check his phone.
‘You expecting a call?’ Claire frowned at him. ‘It’s nearly nine.’
‘I’m waiting for someone to ring me about the cameras at the flat today.’ Byrd had told Claire the basic story of what happened earlier this morning, but, as he normally tended to, missed the not-so-pleasant details, like almost reaching Jane Ericson before her body fell four floors onto the hard concrete with a stomach-churning smack. He knew, after weeks of feeling sick because of the pregnancy, it wouldn’t help her cause. She seemed to be worse on mornings, frequently waking, feeling nauseous. Sometimes she was sick, sometimes she wasn’t.
Claire nodded and turned back to the television.
On cue, Byrd’s phone rang. He didn’t have the number saved, but stood and left the room, then pressed ANSWER and wandered into the kitchen.
‘Hi,’ the voice said, ‘is this Detective Inspector Max Byrd?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Hi, my name is Joseph Peters. The maintenance man for the flats at Trinity Road.’
‘Hi, Joseph.’ As Byrd entered the kitchen, he glanced up at the clock to see the time. Asking him what had taken him so long was on the tip of his tongue.
‘Apologies I am calling you now. I’ve been having issues with my phone. Only got it working over an hour ago and heard the awful news about what happened earlier. Is it true you want to see the footage from the cameras?’
‘Please, if that is possible.’
‘Well, it is possible. But I’m afraid they won’t be of any help.’
Byrd frowned. ‘How so?’
‘Both cameras – the one in the entrance door and the camera in the lift – don’t show anything between three am and four am.’
‘You’re joking?’ Byrd hung his head and pressed a palm to the side of his temple.
‘I wish I was. As soon as the clock on the screen goes to three am, it immediately changes to four am. There’s an hour missing. I don’t understand it myself. I can’t explain it. It’s never happened before.’
‘Okay.’
Joseph Peters stayed silent for a while.
Byrd was about to hang up but thought of something. ‘Can you access the cameras now? Where are you?’
‘I’m at home. But yes, I have access to the cameras from my home. Because I’m maintenance, we set that up, so I could control it from here just in case. What is it you need?’
‘The victim’s name was Jane Ericson,’ Byrd said. ‘In her flat, we found a business card in her bedroom with the name Roger Carlton on it. It stated Roger Carlton was an electrician. However, we have sufficient reason to believe that the individual is linked to an urgent issue that the police are currently dealing with. I suspect that, over the past few days, he went to her flat. Would it be possible for you to check the camera for the previous three days to see if you can spot something unusual? Or someone inside the building who doesn’t belong?’
‘Erm, yeah, I suppose I could.’ He didn’t sound too keen.
‘How many cameras are there?’
‘Just two. One in the lift and the other covering the entrance and exit door. If anyone, other than the people who live there, came in, I’ll be able to recognise them. I have a good idea who should be there.’
‘Great, thank you,’ said Byrd. ‘If you spot something, don’t hesitate to call, day or night.’
‘It would be my pleasure, Detective Byrd,’ he said, now sounding more upbeat.
Byrd wasn’t sure if the sarcasm in Peter’s tone was deliberate or he’d imagined it. Either way, Peter ended the call, and Byrd placed his phone down on the kitchen worktop and sighed heavily. Just as he was about to pick the phone up and head toward the living room, it rang, the ringtone echoing in the silent kitchen.
It was PC Amy Weaver. He frowned. It was unusual for her to be phoning him at this time, especially when she wasn’t on shift.
‘Amy…’ he said, answering.
‘Sir. Sorry to bother you…’ She sounded flustered.
‘What is it, Amy?’
‘There’s another video on YouTube. My God, you need to see this.’
31
Saturday Evening
Low Coniscliffe, Darlington
Byrd immediately went upstairs to his small, quiet office. His laptop was closed on the desk as he walked in. The desk was pushed up against the wall under a small window and, to the right, was a shelving unit filled with documents and smaller boxes that he hadn’t touched in months. He forgot what was in them.
He took a seat on the chair he seldom used and opened the laptop which he rarely needed. If he did, it was to finish off reports he hadn’t completed at work. His usual things, such as emails and browsing online, were done on his phone.
‘You at your computer?’ Amy Weaver asked.
‘Yeah. Hold on.’
‘I’ve emailed it to you,’ added Weaver.
‘How did you find it?’ asked Byrd, waiting for the screen to load that seemed to be going slower than usual.
‘It was on Facebook. A friend tagged me in it.’
‘Jesus.’
The laptop caught up to speed and the plain desktop screen appeared. There were a couple of folders in the top left-hand corner, one labelled ‘Pictures’, the other ‘Documents’. Underneath the folders was an internet icon. He clicked it twice and waited. Weaver stayed on the line but said nothing. Once the internet finally loaded, he opened his emails and found the one she’d sent at the top of the list, above the email offering him penis enlargement pills and diet shakes for ‘great’ results. He clicked on the link, and for the next minute, he remained silent, watching carefully. At the end of the clip, he realised he’d held his breath and let it out suddenly. ‘Jesus Christ, Amy.’
‘I know, Max,’ she said quietly.
‘Thanks for letting me know. I need to ring Ori.’
Byrd hung up and watched the video again. He then found Tanzy’s number and pressed CALL.
‘Max, what do I owe—’
‘Ori, I’m sending you a link. It’s a video. You need to stop whatever you’re doing and watch it.’
Tanzy didn’t reply for a moment, and judging by Byrd’s tone, knew its importance. ‘Okay, hold on.’
There were sounds of shuffling through the phone, then a beat of silence. Tanzy said, ‘Okay, the laptop is open. How’ve you sent it?’
‘Check your personal emails.’
Tanzy opened the email and clicked on the link.
‘Tell me when it starts,’ said Byrd.
‘Yeah, it’s started,’ Tanzy informed him.
Byrd pressed play and they watched it together on their own screens. At the bottom of the video, the title of the video was Element 2.
‘What is element 2?’ said Tanzy.
The video looked like it had been edited and didn’t flow perfectly, clearly showing different times of the day and background activity. The camera positioned high up in the corner of the poorly-lit lift picked up the man who stepped inside, carrying a holdall of tools. He then leaned forward and pressed a button on the control console, then took a step back, revealing his thick head of hair and a ridiculously looking moustache, which Byrd and Tanzy now both knew, was fake.
‘That’s Dilton!’ noted Tanzy. ‘See the time, Max. Half four the day before.’
‘I see it.’
The next scene showed Jane Ericson walk into the lift, dressed up ready for town, wearing a purple maxi dress, her dark hair curled, resting on her slender shoulders. It wasn’t long before she disappeared. The time was just after seven the night before.
‘Max, what—’
‘Just watch, Ori…’
The video changed to another scene in
side the lift. This time, it was ten past three earlier that morning. Jane Ericson, carrying a half-eaten tray of chips and her small handbag, stumbled inside. She used the wall of the lift to steady her weight, which didn’t take a detective to work out she was drunk.
To the right of the screen, an arm came into view and placed a black holdall down onto the lift floor. Judging by the size of the arm it looked like a man who was also wearing a shirt. Unfortunately, they couldn’t see a face. A few seconds after, the figure lowered to the area where he’d placed the bag and pulled something out.
‘What’s that?’ Tanzy asked.
When the man moved in full view of the camera, Byrd and Tanzy noticed he’d put on a mask, covering the whole of his face and top of his head.
‘What the hell is that?’ Tanzy whispered.
The man then leaned down, picked up some variety of can, unscrewed the lid, and green mist started to fill the lift. Jane Ericson didn’t seem fazed. If anything, her drunken state found it funny, judging by the smile curling up the side of her face. Very soon, the screen turned green, the mist eventually taking over.
‘What on earth is that, Max?’
‘I have absolutely no idea, Ori.’
In the next scene, it was daylight. Outside. The camera or recording device was angled up, showing Jane Ericson balanced on her balcony. Somewhere off the screen, the sound of beeping was heard, then a final beep. The video then showed the balcony door open on the fourth floor and, out of nowhere, the phone rang.
Jane Ericson then fell to the ground with a splat. The video captured every second of it. Then a voice said, ‘How unfortunate,’ before it cut off.
Byrd’s face grew hot.
‘So, he recorded it, then put it online for the world to see. Again!’ shouted Tanzy. ‘We need to stop this before it goes viral.’
‘It’s already gone viral, Ori.’
32
No One's Safe: DI Max Byrd & DI Orion Tanzy book 3 Page 10