‘I’m a detective for my brain, not my poise and balance.’
‘Fair point. Come on, let’s get to it.’
Dani focussed again, and they each spent the next few minutes rummaging around the sparse flat. The truth was, despite her jovial chat with Easton, she wasn’t just disappointed that the raid had been fruitless, but hugely concerned about Curtis’s whereabouts.
It didn’t take her long to come to the same conclusion as the officer from the raid team; the flat certainly wasn’t abandoned. Among the basic furniture inside there were clothes, including some freshly washed in the rusting washing machine. There was a half-full bottle of milk in the fridge, butter, ham, cheese and it was all in date.
‘He’s going to come back,’ Easton said.
‘Unless he already saw us smashing our way in.’
Her mind immediately took her back to the moments before the raid, to the pedestrians she’d been closely watching, among other reasons for the very purpose of looking out for their suspect returning home and being spooked. She’d seen nothing to suggest that was the case at all.
‘No sign of Sophie Blackwood,’ Easton said. ‘Clothes and stuff, I mean.’
‘No,’ Dani said. ‘Nor blood or anything obvious like that. No computer, no pictures, no knick-knacks or correspondence even. This isn’t a home. More a place to crash. But forensics will do a full sweep for prints, hair, whatever else.’
‘So we’re done?’
Dani slumped. ‘Yeah, we’re done.’
‘What next?’
‘Time to go rally the troops once more.’
Chapter Eighteen
The detectives crammed into the meeting room at HQ looked a lot less bleary-eyed and jaded than they had on Monday morning, despite them all having worked all the hours under the sun since then. Dani guessed that’s what the adrenaline and focus from a key finding could do for a case, even if, for now, their main suspect was nowhere to be found.
‘Perhaps, DI Stephens, you can explain what we know about Damian Curtis so far,’ McNair said, as always sitting at the front and side of the room, a perfect position for overseeing both Dani and Easton up front, but also the rest of the crew.
‘As you’ll recall, the FSIs at Drifford House found a single large bite mark on Oscar Redfearne’s shoulder,’ Dani said, pointing to the picture on the whiteboard. ‘Forensics swabbed the wound in the hope of pulling any saliva left there. Having run DNA tests on the sample, and excluded Redfearne’s DNA from the analysis, we were left with one other identifiable DNA sequence. That sequence was matched with the highest probability to Damian Curtis.’
Dani pointed to the mugshot picture of Curtis now – a plain-looking man with a thin face, mussy brown hair, droopy green eyes.
‘Curtis is twenty-nine years old,’ Dani said. ‘He’s lived in the West Midlands his whole life, has a string of petty offences starting from when he was fifteen. He first served time when he was nineteen for theft. At the age of twenty-one, with the help of his probation worker, he found regular employment for the first time in his life, as an apprentice mechanic. But coming up for four years ago now, he was involved in a fatal car crash. He was driving and high on drugs. His on-off girlfriend and her five-year-old son were both killed. He survived.’
Another picture on the board that Dani pointed to now. This one of the wrecked Vauxhall Corsa that had smashed head-on into a parked van.
‘Curtis was ultimately convicted of manslaughter. He was only recently released on probation, coming up for four weeks ago, having served half of his eight-year sentence.’
For now Dani left out the part about which prison he’d been held in, and who his most recent cellmate had been. A fact she herself had discovered through her own digging following her previous meeting with McNair, Baxter and Hussein.
‘This afternoon we attended a raid at an address on Wade Road in Perry Barr: the address Curtis has registered with the probation service. Unfortunately, he wasn’t there. We need to find him. Let’s track down anyone we can from his past who could be harbouring him. Friends, family. Easton?’
Easton nodded before facing the room. ‘Curtis’s mother is dead. She died of cancer two years ago. She was divorced from his father and lived in Northumberland, and we’ve already asked our friends up there to look into who she knew in the area. Curtis’s father is a retired factory worker who lives in Derbyshire. Again, we’ve got the local constabulary there to help in tracking him down. Curtis has no siblings and no grandparents who are alive, but we’ll need to widen the search for other family members. DC Mutambe, perhaps you can lead?’
Mutambe, a recently promoted and conscientious DC, nodded.
‘Is there a link between Curtis and Redfearne?’ DC Constable asked.
‘Not that we’re aware of at the moment,’ Easton said. ‘Nor do we know of any link between Curtis and Sophie Blackwood.’
DC Grayling put her hand up.
‘Yes,’ Dani said to her.
‘The bite marks don’t make sense,’ Grayling said.
‘How do you mean?’
‘I know we’ve only been working this for a couple of days, but you have to admit, everything else about our suspect suggests he was highly planned. The lack of direct witnesses, lack of CCTV. We haven’t a weapon, or a vehicle or a motive or anything. He was calculated. But he leaves those bite marks? It doesn’t make sense. To me, at least.’
Grayling sank in her seat a little with her last few words, now that she had several sets of questioning eyes on her. Though Dani didn’t believe that the others disagreed with her, but more likely, as Dani was, they were busy trying to think through the implications.
‘Your instincts are sound,’ Dani said to Grayling. ‘And we know that, although we believe this killer to be well planned and rehearsed in some respects, the attacks themselves were frenzied. The answer could be as simple as a momentary loss of control.’
‘Once again, a fair point. Though the post-mortem confirmed the bite marks were inflicted very close to death, and we see no other reason why Curtis would have been at Drifford House at that point in time. At the very least he attacked Oscar Redfearne in the moments before death, and most likely Curtis is our killer. Until we have an alternative theory, I suggest we all maintain the focus on Curtis as our sole suspect in Redfearne’s murder, and in Sophie’s disappearance. Remember, finding her, alive, remains an absolute priority. Although let’s all keep an open mind here, because it’s fair to say we don’t yet know why Redfearne was targeted at all, nor Sophie Blackwood.’
‘Thank you, DI Stephens,’ McNair said. ‘Perhaps we can move on.’
‘Certainly.’
Dani took a couple of moments to get her thoughts back on track. Easton was looking at her as though asking whether she wanted him to carry on for her. She shook her head and he looked back into the room. ‘DS Easton and I also attended a crime scene earlier today in Shropshire, at the request of West Mercia Police. They believe that the murder there yesterday of fifty-eight-year-old Mary Deville bore similarities to the Redfearne case.’
Dani indicated the gory crime scene photos of Mary Deville’s mangled body as Easton pinned them up on the board. There were a few murmurs of disquiet from the team.
‘Mary’s husband was also attacked, though he survived and is currently in hospital under guard. The West Mercia team believed the killer had stealthily broken into the home at night, subdued the husband by force, and lay in wait for Mary Deville to return home.’
‘That doesn’t sound anything like what happened to Redfearne,’ interrupted one of the DSs at the back of the room.
‘Well it does and it doesn’t,’ Dani said. ‘The nature of the attack itself, frenzied and savage, is similar, as is the fact that no weapon was recovered, and on the face of it we have very little clear indication of motive for either.’
‘Those aren’t similarities,’ Constable said. ‘That’s simply a lack of evidence. Just because two murders have a lack of evidence
doesn’t mean they’re connected.’
‘I agree,’ Dani said, getting a little exasperated now. ‘And I’m certainly not one hundred per cent telling you we have a double murderer here. I’m simply pointing out progress. It’s too early for us to say how Curtis specifically could be linked to the Deville murder, and we’ll keep on top of the forensics results from the scene as and when they become available. But we do believe there’s a link between Mary Deville and the Redfearnes. We’ve heard they were involved in charitable fundraising together. She also had links to councillors, politicians, as we know the Redfearnes do. We need to focus on that link as a matter of priority. How well do the Redfearnes know the Devilles? Were the Devilles ever guests at Drifford House? Had they ever attended the summer parties there—’
‘Er, boss?’
Grayling’s hand was up again, although she was staring down at the papers in her hand.
‘Yes?’
‘There is another link.’
‘Go on?’
Grayling held the papers up almost victoriously.
‘Mary Deville was a Crown Court judge in Birmingham,’ Grayling said. ‘And she was the judge who oversaw Damian Curtis’s manslaughter trial.’
For the first time in the meeting, Dani was rendered truly speechless.
* * *
‘I’m surprised you hadn’t spotted that link yourself,’ McNair said as Dani stepped out of the toilet. McNair was standing, arms folded, by the lifts. Had she followed Dani out from the office floor just to accost her?
‘We’d only known about Curtis a few hours,’ Dani said, trying not to sound too defensive. ‘I haven’t even fully read his case history yet. I focussed on getting the raid organised so we could try and bring him into custody.’
McNair held a hand up. ‘I’m not saying you should have known.’
Then why did you bother saying it at all, Dani thought.
‘At least be glad that we have a switched-on team,’ Dani said.
‘They are indeed. And you’re doing a good job leading them on this.’
Dani had no idea how to take that flattery. It certainly wasn’t a common occurrence from McNair. What was going on?
‘Though I also noted with interest that you left out details of Curtis’s time in incarceration.’
Dani didn’t say anything to that. Of course she’d told her boss all about the link to Ben. Following the meeting yesterday with McNair, Baxter and Hussein, Dani had done what she could to find out basic information about who Ben had spent time with in prison, who could be the source of the apparent knowledge he now had. Curtis’s was the first name that came up. Ben’s cellmate for the majority of his time inside, until Curtis was released a few weeks ago. But the whole team didn’t need to know that. Not yet anyway.
‘You have to admit this doesn’t look good, Dani,’ McNair said, her face screwed in concern. ‘Yesterday your brother calls you in to the prison for a private meeting, spouting he’s got relevant information for us. Referencing the Redfearne party. Today we find out the key suspect in one, possibly two murders over the last three days was, until a few weeks ago, your brother’s cellmate.’
‘Ma’am, the connection is all too clear to me, you don’t need to spell it out.’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. But I’m sure you can see this puts you in a particularly vulnerable position.’
Dani tried to remain strong on the outside, but inside she was all over the place. Her brother’s words from the day before echoed in her mind. He’d warned her people could die if she didn’t get him what he wanted. Was Dani to blame for Mary Deville’s murder? Could the police have been in a position to prevent her death if Dani had been more accommodating to Ben’s demands?
She could almost hear McNair’s next words.
Sorry, Dani, but you can’t lead this case.
And Dani could see the point. Almost.
‘I have every confidence in your ability to see this one through…’
Here it was. The big but…
‘But… we’re going to have to put some safeguards in place.’
OK. That wasn’t quite as bad as Dani had expected.
‘You can continue as SIO on the Redfearne case. And I know as part of that you’re going to have to go back to Long Lartin.’
‘We’ve already arranged to go there first thing tomorrow. I spoke with Cartwright earlier.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ McNair said. ‘But you’re not to make any unaccompanied personal visits to your brother until this case is over. Do you understand?’
‘I do.’
‘Every interaction with your brother needs to be on record. Everything needs to be above board. Don’t get yourself into a position where you’re compromising your integrity, or more importantly, the lives of other people.’
Dani was nodding, even though McNair’s words felt double-edged. If more people died, would she get the blame? The thought made her insides curdle.
‘I’ll speak to Baxter about organising another press con,’ McNair said. ‘There’s a tough choice here as to whether or not we publicly name Curtis.’
‘Better to have his face in the press and send him underground, than to let him feel he’s got the upper hand and risk him killing again,’ Dani said.
‘I’ll let you know,’ McNair said. She turned and pressed the button for the lift. ‘Go home and get some rest, Dani. It’s been a crazy few days.’
Dani couldn’t agree more with that. And yes, she would go home. But how could she possibly get rest? There was no time for complacency now. She had to act, and fast, otherwise as far as she was concerned, the next blood that flowed would well and truly be on her hands.
* * *
Darkness had once again descended by the time Dani arrived home, though the temperature had barely dropped from the earlier highs, and as Dani stepped from her car into the street, she could already imagine how uncomfortable the coming stuffy night in bed – alone – was going to be.
As with the previous night, her weariness got the better of her as she headed towards her front gate, and when the hooded figure stepped out from the shadows into an arc of light from the streetlight overhead, Dani was entirely unprepared.
Her body twitched, her brain in two minds as to whether she should rush forwards to attack, or make a hasty exit.
She was erring towards the former when the figure pulled the hood down.
‘Larissa?’
The young girl said nothing.
‘What are you doing here?’
Dani’s tone was far more off than she’d intended, and the look of hurt in the girl’s eyes only echoed this.
‘I… I didn’t know where else to go,’ she stammered.
‘But…’ But what? Dani really didn’t know. Yes she’d felt close to Larissa, in more ways than one, over recent weeks, but… well… Dani didn’t even know how to explain it, but it felt wrong. How had Larissa even found out where Dani lived?
‘When you left court yesterday…’ a tear rolled down Larissa’s cheek, ‘I thought you’d be coming back. I thought you’d get in touch. I just… I just needed someone to talk to.’
‘How did you find me here?’ Dani said, immediately angered at herself that those had been her choice of words, rather than offering any kind of comfort. But this wasn’t right. Something was off here.
‘I’ve no one else,’ Larissa said, sobbing now. ‘They’re all dead. I don’t know what to do.’
Dani moved up to her and put her arm around her shoulder, and Larissa dug her face into Dani.
‘Come on, don’t talk like that. It’s going to take time to adjust. You’ve focussed so much effort on the trial. But that’s finished now. It’s time to forget all about it.’
‘And do what?’
Dani didn’t answer that straight away, her mind was too muddled as she tried to distinguish her own anguish from Larissa’s. Plenty of times Dani had felt entirely worthless and like there was no point in carrying on. But she had. Was it differe
nt, even more severe, for Larissa who’d not just been attacked herself but had lost her closest family members? Ever since her dad had been arrested, she’d been under the care of social services. She had no other direct family in the UK at all. Her only surviving grandparents, and the rest of their family, were still in Jamaica. At seventeen, she was so close to finishing her education that everyone involved had been determined to keep her in the Midlands, at least until after next summer. Could she take another year here, alone, though?
‘It’s going to be OK,’ Dani said. ‘You’re so young still. You’ve got a good, long life ahead of you. You just need to—’
Larissa lifted her head and shoved Dani away. Shocked, Dani stumbled back, even more concerned when she saw the screwed and angry look now on Larissa’s face. She’d never seen that before.
‘I just need to what?’ Larissa said, her voice lower and harder, raspier than before. ‘Just need to move on? Just need to forget about what he did. Except I can’t, can I? How the fuck can I ever move on? I thought you of all people would understand that.’
‘Larissa, please—’
Larissa lurched forwards and Dani tensed again as she barged past and strode off down the dark street.
Should she chase after her?
‘Larissa!’
But she didn’t look back, and Dani remained rooted to the spot, and moments later Larissa was out of sight.
After a few seconds in the darkness, each more eerie than the last, Dani spun back and forth and looked up and down the street.
She was all alone.
Feeling more rattled than she’d care to admit, she hurried towards her gate, up the drive, and through her front door, and she only exhaled in relief once the door to her darkened house was closed and locked behind her.
Chapter Nineteen
‘It’s been three days. You need to eat something.’
She doesn’t respond to me at all. She’s crumpled in a heap in the corner of the van. Her head is bowed, her cuffed hands dangle uselessly above her, her arms suspended by the chain attached to her wrists which connects to the rail at the top of the van wall.
The Rules of Murder Page 13