by Ernesto Lee
“It’s usually quite low,” Bannister replies. “No more than ten or fifteen percent initially.”
“Initially?” Erin asks.
“Yes. Once most realize they are never going to make a career out of fashion modeling and how much they can make from adult work, you can easily increase that percentage to thirty or forty percent.”
“And that includes adult video work?” Tony says.
“You mean, porno?”
Tony finds himself blushing again, and Bannister laughs. “Yes, Sergeant. That’s exactly what it means. If a girl is broadminded enough, she can earn more in a couple of hours with that kind of work than she can in a month of low-paid fashion modeling jobs. And please don’t look at me with that holier-than-thou expression on your face as if you’ve never watched porn before. You’re exactly the target demographic, Sergeant Bolton!”
Before Tony can respond, Bannister turns back to Erin. “Is there anything else I can help you with today, Chief Inspector?”
Erin quietly considers the question before shaking her head and handing back the file. “No, I think that’s all for now. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful, Mr. Bannister.”
She stands up and hands him her business card. “I’d appreciate it if you could call the number at the bottom once you’ve resolved your IT issue. One of our officers will come to collect a copy of the video interview and to make a copy of Shreya’s file. In the meantime, if you remember anything else that you think might be relevant, please don’t hesitate to call me.”
Confused as to why Erin is not continuing to question him, Tony starts to say something, but she quickly cuts him off. “Thank you, Sergeant. I think we’ve taken up enough of Mr. Bannister’s time. Let’s let him get back to work.”
Bannister escorts the two officers back to the reception area, where, to their surprise, Danica is waiting for them with a small padded envelope. Smiling, she hands it over to DS Bolton. “I put the interview onto a memory stick. You should be able to view it on a laptop. I hope it helps?”
“Thank you. I’m sure it will,” Erin says. “This must mean that your systems are back up and running. Did your tech support say what the problem was?”
“Yes, just a glitch in our software apparently. It was easily resolved.”
“That’s good,” Erin says with a nod. “In that case, we’ll get out of your hair, and I’ll arrange for an officer to drop by to make a copy of the file.”
She thanks Bannister again for his time, and he walks them to the exit to see them off the premises. He remains at the door watching until their car pulls away.
. . . . . . . .
Erin has also been watching Bannister through the rear-view mirror. When he goes back inside and the security door closes, she lightly taps Tony on the arm. “Okay, stop over there for a few minutes. Let’s compare notes before we head back to the station.”
Once they are parked well out of sight of Bannister’s industrial unit, Erin asks, “What was it you were going to say back there when I stopped you?”
“I was going to suggest that we seize their server, boss. Or at least call our own tech boys in to copy the hard drive before they had the chance to wipe it or get rid of anything they didn’t want us to see. The server being down like that was no bloody coincidence. Did you catch that look between them at the reception? He’d already told her to find a way to crash it before they let us inside. I’m sure of it.”
Erin nods. “Yes, I think you’re right. And I did think about that myself, but we don’t have grounds for seizure or forcibly accessing and copying their data. Any lawyer worth their salt would tie us up in litigation for years if we tried to seize property without justifiable cause or a warrant specifically authorizing search and seizure. The fact that Shreya Singh was a client of Derek Bannister, Entertainment and Talent Services, is meaningless when we have nothing else.”
Disappointed, Tony shakes his head. “Yeah, I suppose so. And we got the video anyway. Probably no need to access the rest of the server now.”
Erin shakes her own head. “Oh, I wouldn’t necessarily say that. You were right about them crashing the server before we were allowed inside. They shut that server down when they didn’t know what we were there for. I think once Bannister found out we were only there to ask about Shreya Singh, he told Danica to reboot the server and to make a copy of the interview when he left us in his office to collect Shreya’s file. Bannister was definitely trying to hide something from us.”
“I agree. So, what next, boss?”
“Back to the station,” Erin replies. “I’ll catch up with DI Marchetti to see what she’s unearthed before we meet the chief super. In the meantime, I want you to run a background check on Bannister and Danica Shevchenko.”
“His babe?” Tony smirks.
“Yeah, something tells me she does a lot more for him than just working the reception and a bit of hair and make-up. Oh, and find out who they use for IT support. Find out if they really did put in a call for support. If they didn’t, that might be grounds enough for that search and seizure warrant.”
Nodding and smiling, Tony checks his rear-view mirror before pulling away. “My pleasure, ma’am. There is no way on earth that there was anything wrong with that bloody network or server. I’ll stake my next month’s wages on it.”
Chapter Six
Just before five, Tony Bolton catches up with Erin and Terri Marchetti on their way to Chief Superintendent Anderson’s office. They are accompanied by another of Erin’s officers, Detective Sergeant Frank Cheeseman. When she sees Tony, Erin stops walking and impatiently asks, “Well? Any luck?”
The frown and shake of his head are indication enough, but his words confirm it. “Apart from a couple of parking and speeding tickets, our boy Bannister is squeaky clean, boss.”
“And Danica Shevchenko?”
“Nothing,” Tony says. “There is no criminal record for Danica Shevchenko anywhere in the UK or Europe. She’s either a ghost or an angel, ma’am.”
Frustrated, Erin asks him, “Okay, and what about their tech support? Did you manage to track them down?”
“Yes, I did. And believe it or not, there actually was a call made by Danica to report a fault an hour before we arrived, followed by a second call while we were with Bannister.
“According to the guy on the helpdesk, they ran a remote diagnostics program followed by a full system reboot. The times he gave for these correspond exactly to when we were in the office with Derek Bannister.
“And that’s not all, ma’am. I also watched the video interview half a dozen times. It’s exactly as Bannister described it, with nothing apparently untoward. It’s quite boring, in fact. So, it certainly appears they were telling the truth about the IT issue at least.”
Erin tuts to herself. “That remains to be seen, but it does look to be a dead-end for now. Let’s park it, but keep Derek Bannister on our persons of interest list. Good work anyway, Tony.”
They continue walking, and Tony asks if there has been any other progress. Then he specifically asks Terri, “Did you manage to find any firm link between the three cases, ma’am?”
Seeming to ignore him, Terri suddenly steps in front of the group just short of Anderson’s office and nervously asks them to wait. She looks worried about something and Erin asks if she is okay. “What’s going on? The chief super doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry, boss. There is something I really need to tell you, though, before we go in.” Stuttering, she adds, “It’s something and nothing really and I… well, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you about it earlier.”
Impatient and confused, Erin raises a hand. “You’re not making any sense. What are you talking about? What is it that’s so unimportant but important enough that you need to tell me about it right now?”
Looking nervously left and right to her colleagues, Terri takes a deep breath. “It’s… it’s to do with the Wilton case, ma’am. I should have told you strai
ght away, and, again, I don’t know why I didn’t, but… I was drinking in the same pub as Shelley Wilton on the night of her murder. It was my Manchester robbery squad leaving party on that Saturday night.”
“You were in The Bamford Arms on the same night as one of our murder victims?” Erin asks, stunned and disbelieving.
“Not just me, ma’am. I was there with the rest of the team. When her picture was released in the press the next day, a few of us recognized her, so we came forward to give statements.”
“And you didn’t think this was important enough to tell me before now?” Erin barks.
“I just didn’t think it was—”
“Whatever,” Erin shrugs, stopping her dead. “I don’t have time for this now. You can explain yourself later. We’re late enough already.”
. . . . . . . .
Chief Superintendent Anderson’s PA puts down the phone and informs Erin that he is ready to see them now. In his office, they find him alone at his conference table pawing through the early editions of the evening news.
Looking up from the newspapers, he politely smiles and invites them to take a seat before casually sliding the newspapers across the table towards Erin. “Our friends in the press have outdone themselves this time. Have you seen these headlines yet?”
Erin glances down and shakes her head. Most of the newspapers have the grainy image of their prime suspect splashed across the front page alongside her own official picture grabbed from the Merseyside police website. In most cases, the image of the hammer is printed with the rest of the story on the following pages.
“You should get a new picture taken,” Anderson suggests. “That one doesn’t look anything like you. How old is it?”
“I think that was probably taken six or seven years ago, sir. It was definitely before my current appointment anyway.”
“Get a new one taken,” Anderson repeats. “It doesn’t do to have one so outdated in this age of fast technology.”
Erin nods and the chief super points again to the headlines. “They haven’t taken any prisoners, Erin. We need a fast result on this.”
The headline on the front of the Liverpool Chronicle is “Murder on Merseyside, Cops Clueless.”
The headline from Edgar Balmain in the Liverpool Echo is even more damning. “Serial Killer Stalks the North West. Merseyside Police Exposed In Abject Failure To Connect the Dots.”
The rest of the headlines and stories follow very much the same tone in suggesting that somehow the death of Shreya Singh could have been avoided if a link between the deaths of Darren Pope and Shelley Winton had been picked up earlier.
Chief Superintendent Anderson patiently waits for Erin to finish reading before he says, “I wouldn’t take it personally if I were you. Overt sensationalism is the lifeblood of newspaper sales.”
“I know, sir. It still sticks in the throat, though. I spoke to Edgar Balmain just after the conference and he seemed like a decent guy genuinely interested in helping us. Headlines like this do the exact opposite.”
Anderson doesn’t say it, but his expression is a barely concealed “I told you so.”
“Okay, well, forget about these for now. Tell me if there is any truth in what they are saying about a link between the Pope, Wilton and Singh murders.”
Erin is about to speak when Anderson shifts his attention across the table to Detective Sergeant Cheeseman. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Frank. What’s your involvement in this?”
“I led the initial investigation into the Pope boy’s murder, sir. It’s still one of my active cases.”
“I thought it would be helpful to bring DS Cheeseman to give his insights first-hand,” Erin adds.
Anderson nods to Cheeseman, then back to Blake. “Agreed. Okay, Chief Inspector, what do you have?”
“Nothing compelling yet to firmly link all three of the murders, but if it’s okay, sir, I’ll defer to Inspector Marchetti to start us off. She’s been leading the review of the case files this afternoon.”
Without waiting for an answer, Terri arranges the three files on the conference table before carefully placing a photo of each of the victims on the table beside them.
“Thank you, sir. The first case highlighted by Edgar Balmain today was the murder of Darren Pope. This particular case is one that we are all only too familiar with. Due in part to how recently it occurred but, more specifically, because of the horrific way in which Darren was killed.”
Using one of Erin’s techniques, DI Marchetti allows a second for her last point to sink in before continuing. “As you know already, sir, his body was discovered in an underpass around a mile from Anfield football stadium on December 26th last year. CCTV footage from the stadium shows that he attended the match that day to watch his team, Everton, play Liverpool in the Boxing Day Derby. He didn’t stay until the final whistle, though. He left the ground approximately fifteen minutes after the start of the second half.”
“Everton were losing?” Anderson surmises.
“They were, sir,” DS Cheeseman replies on Terri’s behalf. “We don’t believe that’s why he left early, though.”
“Oh, and why is that sergeant?”
“Darren Pope was a known sex worker, sir. Statements given by his family and friends confirm that whilst he was a regular at Anfield, it was also quite usual for him to leave the game early to give himself enough time to make his way to one of his regular places of business.”
“His place of business?” Anderson asks, looking puzzled.
“Yes, sir. Sandhills Train Station. That was his regular patch on match days. According to the statement, he’d wait there in the hope of snagging a punter from amongst the large crowds of fans heading home after the match. The underpass where his body was found is very close to the train station. We haven’t been able to ascertain yet whether he actually found any clients that day, but it’s highly likely that’s why he was there in the underpass.”
Frowning, Anderson asks, “Okay, and what leads do you have, Sergeant? Presumably, you’ve had plenty of witnesses and video footage to work with?”
Looking uncomfortable, Cheeseman hesitates to answer. “Yes, sir, we have. Up to now, my officers have conducted more than two hundred interviews of fans identified from the station CCTV along with known Liverpool football hooligans.”
“The assumption being that Darren Pope was killed by rival fans?” Anderson suggests.
“Yes, sir. Our assumption had been that Darren was attacked either for wearing the wrong colors or simply for his sexual orientation.”
“Or for a combination of both,” Erin adds. “Our initial belief was that Darren could have been attacked by an individual or group of individuals offended by his allegiance or an ill-judged proposition.”
“And this individual or group of individuals were so enraged that they decided to slice and dice his face,” Anderson mutters, shaking his head.
“Yes, sir. I realize how it looks in the current context. It did, however, seem plausible enough at the time.”
Saying nothing in response, Anderson instead asks Cheeseman about Darren’s regular clients. “Presumably that was an angle you’ve also looked into?”
“Yes, sir. We did. Four regulars were identified and interviewed. All had concrete alibis for the time window of the murder.”
“Okay, and the other interviews? Anything from them? Any leads at all?”
Cheeseman shakes his head. “Nothing, sir. We have no forensics, no witnesses and no suspects. Frankly, sir, until this morning, we’d hit a bit of a brick wall.”
Picking up on CS Anderson’s look of confusion, Erin says, “Allow me to explain, sir. Although not yet conclusive, the information received from Edgar Balmain today has forced us to look again at all three cases with a fresh set of eyes, and there do appear to be quite a number of commonalities between them.”
She takes out her pocketbook and points to a roughly drawn table that cross-references five characteristics that are common to all three c
ases. Or common at least to two out of the three.
“If you’d care to look here, sir. All three of our victims were very good-looking and I would almost go as far as to say beautiful.”
“Is that particularly relevant?” Anderson asks.
“Yes, sir. I think it is,” Erin replies confidently. “And I believe it has some relevance to the facial injuries inflicted on each of the victims.”
“Okay, carry on, Erin.”
“Thank you, sir. As I was saying, all three of our victims were facially disfigured in one manner or another, and all three had words or obscenities scrawled across their chests using their own blood. In two of the three cases, the victim was either gay or bisexual, and in two of the three cases, the cause of death was a blunt-force trauma to the skull from a hammer.”
“The Pope boy was homosexual,” Anderson says. “Which of the victims was bi—”
“Shelley Wilton,” Erin replies, anticipating the question. “Her sexuality was confirmed by friends and a former boyfriend. In common with Shreya Singh, Shelley Wilton was also the other victim killed by a hammer blow to the head. Another commonality shared by the Wilton and Singh cases are the post-mortem findings that the killing blow was inflicted post disfigurement.”
Anderson considers carefully what he has just heard, then asks, “Okay, Erin. You’re the one with the behavioral science training. What do you make of all of this? Is Balmain right? Have we got a serial killer on the loose?”
Shaking her head, Erin frowns. “I really can’t say with any level of certainty, sir. One commonly held theory is that serial killers tend to hunt within their own ethnic group or that they target victims based on a particular profile type.”
“Like prostitutes or drug abusers for example?”
“Exactly, sir,” Erin replies. “And we know from our own home-grown serial killers how accurate this assumption tends to be. The Yorkshire Ripper mainly targeted prostitutes. Dennis Nilsen’s victims were almost exclusively homeless or substance-dependent young men and ‘Dr. Death,’ Harold Shipman, had an exclusive penchant for dispatching his elderly patients.”