by Paul Gitsham
‘Well, not our concern,’ said Warren, his words harsher than his tone. ‘Keep him on the board until we get the forensics back from the hotel. I suppose he could have hired a hitman if he really hated Anish that much, but I think that may be stretching a bit.’
‘Who else have we got left?’ asked Sutton.
‘Of the five men of interest that we identified from Rainbow Hookups, we still have three outstanding. First off, Blondie92 who contacted Anish on New Year’s Day. They texted and called a few times, but we have nothing after January the 8th. That number hasn’t been used for months, it seems it was only turned on to make calls and texts to Anish. Bed and breakfast analysis came up a blank also; the phone pings the cell towers too infrequently, from locations all over the place. We have his photo from Rainbow Hookups, I could arrange teams to visit some of the locations and flash it around.’
‘Do it,’ said Warren. ‘I’m very suspicious that he seems to have only used that mobile number to contact Anish. If he did switch SIM cards, could you still track the handset via its IMEI number?’
‘We can certainly try,’ said Pymm, making a note.
‘What about the others?’ asked Warren.
‘The most recent was HotnReady, back in September. He did a lot of the early groundwork, with some pretty explicit exchanges on the app.’
‘He was the one whose profile picture will need to be Photoshopped before we show it to witnesses,’ recalled Sutton.
‘It looked as though it had already been Photoshopped to me,’ said Hutchinson to a round of laughter.
‘His and Anish’s phones co-located to Middlesbury High Street Saturday evening, before Anish turned his phone off,’ said Pymm. ‘Mr HotnReady’s phone stayed on and went back to his flat just before 11 p.m. Anish’s didn’t reconnect to the network until just after 1 a.m., back at his own flat.’
‘Have we visited?’ asked Hutchinson.
‘Yes, no sign of him. We have a name from the landlord, Stewart Fallon, but there’s nothing on the system. The old lady who lived downstairs says that he was “popular” and had lots of friends visiting him; the interviewing officer described her as the sort of person who lowers their voice and whispers when they say the word “gay”. That being said, she claimed he was a nice man, and used to do a bit of shopping for her if the weather was poor. They showed her photos of Anish, and suitably cropped photos of HotnReady from Rainbow Hookups, but she has cataracts and didn’t recognise him.’
‘Do you think he may be a sex-worker?’ asked Sutton.
‘Perhaps, or at least very sexually active,’ said Pymm.
‘So where is he now?’ asked Warren.
‘She has no idea, she hasn’t seen him for days. She said he often disappears for weeks at a time; she’s not sure what his job is. His landlord said that his rent is paid by standing order. The phone hasn’t been on all week.’
‘OK, keep at it. Who does that leave then?’
‘Mr Brown Bear.’
‘The large Asian bloke with the questionable Rainbow Hookups profile picture,’ recalled Ruskin.
‘Yes, his former next-door neighbour confirmed that he was definitely closer to fifty than thirty,’ said Pymm, ‘and the photograph is very flattering, he’s a lot heavier than he appears in the picture.’
‘Maybe that’s why Anish gave him the brush-off, if that’s what happened,’ said Hutchinson. ‘I seem to remember that Anish appeared to break contact after they first met.’
‘Hell of a long time to bear a grudge,’ said Hardwick. ‘It’s about a year since they first hooked up.’
‘Which brings us back to non-text message communication,’ said Sutton gloomily.
‘You said former neighbour?’ recalled Warren.
‘That’s where it gets interesting. We have a first name, Deepak, known to everyone as Dippy. It seems that he lived in the house that we tracked the mobile phone to for a number of years with his girlfriend, Joanna Weybridge. She’s white and has two kids who clearly aren’t his. In February of this year, they started to argue a lot then suddenly, Deepak was no longer around. Then at the end of April, the girlfriend also moved out. He overheard her children talking in the garden; apparently with Deepak gone they couldn’t afford the rent.’
‘So where is he now?’ asked Warren.
‘We don’t know yet. The burner went dead around the end of February – probably about the time the arguments started. There’s also been no activity on his Rainbow Hookups account since then.’
‘Sounds like his missus got wind of his extra-curricular interests,’ said Sutton.
‘Could be blackmail, again,’ said Hardwick.
‘Do we know if he met anyone else through Rainbow Hookups after he met Anish?’ asked Sutton. ‘If Anish was the final person he met, that makes him all the more likely to have still been seeing him when it all kicked off with his girlfriend.’
‘No way to tell,’ said Pymm. ‘His profile is no longer visible on searches and when we follow the link from Anish’s history, his account is listed as ‘archived’ since August, due to inactivity. From what I can tell, that happens automatically after six months, which suggests he last used it in February. Unfortunately, only the account owner can see the profile’s activity, so we can’t access it. The site is hosted overseas and isn’t returning our calls.’
‘Well, we have a partial name,’ said Warren. ‘Get onto the landlord and see if he left a forwarding address. If you can’t track him directly then pursue the girlfriend, hopefully at least one of them was on the electoral roll.’
‘Sir, you need to see this!’ called Richardson across the office. Warren crossed the room to join her. He’d just left the briefing room, where he had placed a big red cross on the suspects board through the sister and brother-in-law of Latika Luthra, the woman Anish Patel had been planning on marrying. The couple had been in India for the past month visiting his sick father. He’d died a few days previously and three days after the funeral they had flown home. There was no way that either of them could have been involved in the murder.
That still didn’t rule out the hitman theory, however, the jaunt had cost the couple the remains of their savings and over-stretched their credit cards, so it was unclear how they could have hired someone, even if they wished to. Again, the experienced nose of the interviewer had come into play and they were satisfied that despite her sharp words, Luthra’s sister was genuinely upset that her sister’s chance at children and happiness had been so cruelly taken away.
The normally unflappable Richardson sounded excited. Already, there was a crowd around her workstation; even Rachel Pymm had made the journey from her own desk, leaning on her crutches over her fellow DS’s shoulder.
Richardson’s screen showed a still image of the hotel car park, with Anish’s hire car clearly visible.
‘This is dashcam footage sent to us by a sales rep staying overnight at the hotel; he checked in on the Thursday night. He didn’t recognise the picture of Anish, but he saw the latest appeal on TV and figured he’d send us his dashcam footage anyway.’
The time stamp read 19:02.
She switched images. ‘This is from when the rep left Friday morning. He got up early to beat the traffic.’
The picture showed the hire car parked in the same spot as the night before.
Warren blinked. ‘Do that again,’ he ordered. Richardson complied.
‘The car’s moved,’ he breathed.
The movement was tiny; the car was still parked in the same spot as before, but it had shifted slightly to the left. The front wheels, angled slightly in the first image, were now dead straight.
‘When did he move it? Did you miss him coming out of the front door during the night?’
Richardson shook her head. ‘Watch this.’
She switched to another window, this time video from a CCTV camera. The timestamp showed just after 1.30 a.m. and the picture was black and white.
‘This is from the camera above the service en
trance on the corner of the building, next to the access road,’ she pointed at the door that the camera was covering. ‘We know that nobody came in or out of that entrance during Anish’s stay. But look here, at the edge of the screen.’
Light from the streetlamps on the nearby road illuminated the edge of the camera’s field of vision. Suddenly a shadow appeared, coming briefly from around the corner of the building from the access road, before disappearing out of shot in the direction of the customer car park.
‘Play that again,’ ordered Warren. ‘Slowly.’
Richardson manipulated her mouse.
‘That’s the shadow of a person,’ said Warren. ‘What are they doing wandering across the car park at that time of night?’
‘There’s more,’ said Richardson. She clicked her mouse again, and the video advanced about ninety seconds.
This time the shadow was more boxy; although the object casting the shadow was still out of shot, it was clear to everyone what it was.
‘A car, travelling towards the access road,’ said Richardson.
‘Without its lights on,’ observed Pymm.
Warren stood up straight. The footage would be of limited use in court; the person walking was just out of range of the camera – was that deliberate? Then the car, which Warren was certain must be Anish’s hire car, was also out of shot. But with the clear evidence from the dashcam footage showing that Anish’s car had been moved at some point that night, it was a fair bet that either he, or somebody else, had driven his car around the side of the hotel.
‘Does the car continue along the access road to the rear of the hotel?’ asked Warren.
‘Not all the way. The CCTV above the fire exit is broken, obviously, but the camera over the loading bay doesn’t show any movement. But now that we know what to look for, we’ve found this, twelve minutes later.’
The shadow of the car reappeared; this time there was a faint glow from the leading edge of the shadow. He wouldn’t have bet money on it, but Warren got the impression that it was being driven backwards, and they were seeing the flare from the reversing lights.
Warren drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘Suggestions?’
‘I reckon somebody walked out of the fire exit, up the access road and across the car park, trying to avoid the camera above the service entrance, and then moved Anish’s car around to the fire exit, loaded it up and took it back to its parking space,’ said Ruskin.
‘Loaded up with what?’ asked Warren.
‘The obvious answer is his body, but we have footage of him leaving the hotel Friday morning.’
‘In which case, maybe it was Anish driving the car himself,’ said Hutchinson. ‘We still don’t know why he was checking into this hotel every month. Perhaps he was receiving drugs or stolen goods? He checks in, then in the middle of the night loads up his car before driving away the next day.’
‘Seems a bit elaborate,’ said Pymm. ‘Although it might explain why he prefers to use a hire car, rather than his own vehicle. It puts another layer of protection between him and whatever he’s getting up to.’
‘Does it though?’ asked Ruskin. ‘It’s easy enough to trace a hire car back to the person that rented it.’
‘For the police maybe, but perhaps he’s more concerned about the people who he’s dealing with, than us?’ countered Pymm.
The team fell silent. Thus far, much of their theory was speculation. It still wasn’t clear that the shadows on the CCTV footage were even Anish or his hire car. They couldn’t be sure that the two things were linked, although the apparent movement of Anish’s car that night needed an explanation.
Warren said as much. ‘One thing is certain though,’ he concluded, ‘whatever did happen to Anish had at least some link to that hotel, because I still can’t think of any other reason for his body being wrapped in that sheet.’
‘Whilst you’re here, I think you need to look at this as well,’ said Ruskin, moving over to his own workstation.
‘I was looking at the list of apps that IT found on Anish’s tablet, and I recognised one of them.’ He pointed at the webpage. ‘He was using a diet and fitness tracker. It’s the same one that I’ve been using for my triathlon training.’
‘OK,’ said Warren. He recognised the logo from adverts.
‘The app is synchronised between his phone, his tablet and the cloud. He used it to keep a log of what food he ate, any exercise he did and body measurements.’
Warren had been thinking about downloading something similar himself in January. With his forty-second birthday fast approaching, he’d reluctantly come to the conclusion that the extra kilos he’d accumulated recently weren’t going to magically disappear on their own. As soon as the Christmas and New Year party season were over, he’d have to start doing something about it. He wondered if it could track swimming?
‘Anish used it for the past eighteen months,’ continued Ruskin. ‘I suspect his heart problems were a catalyst.’ He clicked on a tab on the webpage. ‘And he had some success – he lost twelve kilogrammes and four inches off his waist. His blood pressure, resting pulse and cholesterol were back within the healthy range for a man his age.’
‘OK, so what’s the problem?’
‘Well, he was a creature of habit. According to the timestamps on the log, the last thing he did before going to bed each night was input everything he’d eaten that day. He also listed his exercise, including the steps he’d taken that day – his phone recorded those automatically; he always took a long walk on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays first thing in the morning. He then manually inputted how far he swam on a Thursday, and how long he spent on the exercise bike and the cross-trainer on a Monday. He weighed and measured himself every Thursday after his swim.’
Warren had a suspicion where this was leading. ‘And he definitely did it every day?’
‘He had an unbroken chain from the day he started using it. Sometimes he used his tablet, sometimes his phone, but the last thing he did each night was complete his log.’
‘Until?’
‘Until Thursday the 24th of November. That’s the first time since he started that he didn’t submit last thing at night. And he doesn’t appear to have taken his Friday morning walk either.’
Chapter 27
‘DC Hardwick, I have a call for you,’ said the support worker on the other end of the line. ‘It’s a Mr Latham. He says it’s urgent.’
It took a moment for Hardwick to place the name.
‘Is that DC Hardwick?’ asked the owner of Middlesbury Vehicle Rentals when the connection was made.
‘Yes, how can I help you?’ asked Hardwick, taking a sip of the Diet Coke that was the only thing standing between her and the urge to crawl under her desk and take a nap.
‘Sorry to bother you. I didn’t think it was important, but my daughter thinks it might be.’
‘Well, it’s always best to be certain with these things,’ said Hardwick, stifling a yawn. ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?’
‘That car. The one we hired out to the poor man who was murdered?’
‘Yes,’ said Hardwick, trying to sound encouraging.
‘A couple of your officers dropped it back around, thank you. Anyway, it was due its next service, so I took it to the garage that looks after our fleet. There’s rarely any surprises with these things, just an oil change, broken bulbs, new tyres, the usual sort of thing.’
Hardwick made an encouraging noise. Her own car was due its service soon; she could only hope that it needed so little work done.
‘The thing is, it didn’t need any new tyres.’
‘OK,’ said Hardwick, slightly nonplussed.
‘According to the mechanic, the tyres were almost brand new; just a few hundred miles on them. They’re caked in mud, but definitely new. I’m sorry I didn’t spot it before, I just gave them a quick once-over when the car was returned.’
‘Wait, you’re saying the tyres had been changed without your knowledge?’ All thoug
hts of an afternoon snooze vanished.
‘Yes. They weren’t even the same brand. I’ve had the odd customer need to replace one if they had a puncture, but I’ve never had someone change all four. Do you think it’s important?’
Chapter 28
Warren called an emergency briefing after he’d relayed the latest findings to DSI Grayson. The German couple that hired the Ford Focus after Anish Patel had driven over 700 miles; it was easy to see how forensics had missed that the tyres had been replaced. The car was now heading back to Welwyn, where it would be processed fully, even dismantled if necessary.
‘We are now operating under the assumption that Anish Patel was murdered in the Easy Break Hotel on the night of Thursday November the 24th, and that he was wrapped in a bed sheet, taken to the dumping spot in his hire car in the early hours of the morning, which was then returned to the hotel car park before being dropped back at the vehicle rental place by the killer.’
He turned to Hardwick. ‘How confident are you that the person you saw on the reception CCTV on the Friday morning was Anish?’
Hardwick blushed. ‘He was wearing the same clothes and carrying his backpack.’ Her voice trailed off. ‘I just assumed …’
Warren nodded. There was no point embarrassing her further, these things happened. He made a mental note to get Sutton to check in with her later; he knew she’d be beating herself up over her error.
‘Mags, get the Video Analysis Unit to check and see if it really is him. If he was dead by that point, then that must be the killer dressed in his clothes. See if they can find anything we can use to identify them. The killer dropped the hire car back at the rental place; scour the surrounding area for any CCTV. Even a glimpse of the car might tell us when it was returned. The killer needed to get home afterwards, so contact the bus companies.’