Foreign Bodies

by Colin A Millar

  DCI Tanner was already inside, sitting in one of the two seats in front of Pearson’s desk. Handley placed the file he was carrying on the desk and took the remaining seat, having nodded greetings to his senior colleagues.

  ‘So, Tony,’ Pearson began. ‘Have we finally made some form of a breakthrough?’

  Pearson’s voice, though still deep and gravelly, was softer in the office and Handley relaxed into ‘detail and reporting’ mode – the lingua franca of coppers everywhere.

  ‘Yes sir,’ he replied. ‘We now have fingerprints, DNA from blood, blood type and some hairs and fibres we are pretty certain belong to Marcus Travers. All were found at the scene. Mrs Travers has also identified certain items as belonging to Mr Travers, also found at the scene. The DNA can only be confirmed once we have him in custody, of course, but we already had his fingerprints and hair samples from his home and they both match. Medical records confirm a blood type match. We also have the murder weapon, we believe, but there are no prints on it so it’s as yet unclear whether Marcus Travers was actually the killer. At the moment all we can do is place him at the scene. But since there were no traces of anyone else having been in the cottage, we can safely assume that it was him.’

  ‘Good,’ Pearson stated. ‘So we have Marcus Travers as our primary suspect for the murder of Julia Metcalfe. We need to immediately circulate his picture and his description to all other forces, and have these circulated to all officers – both here and in the other locations. I think it’s time we got the media team on it, with a general public appeal for information on his whereabouts and any sightings. Malcolm, can you get on that? Be sure to also include a warning that he should not be approached.’

  Tanner, who had sat impassively silent throughout this exchange, nodded and said, ‘Will do, sir. We’ve got him for this one, but what about The Charmer murders? You must have lab results in by now, Tony?’

  ‘Yes sir, I was about to turn to that,’ Handley replied, pleased he was fully prepared for this meeting.

  ‘The results were longer in coming as the lab had to cross-reference against a lot of evidence from the old Charmer files. This is still ongoing but we have already got a match. Hair found at the scene of one of the cases attributed to The Charmer, that of Suzanne Hill murdered in Leicester in 2003, matches that of Marcus Travers. Again, this only puts him potentially at the scene because there were, as with many of the other murder scenes, other hair samples found that were from different individuals.’

  ‘Not very conclusive then?’ Pearson asked.

  ‘Not on its own, sir, no. But I just got another lab report in as I was coming up and they’ve found a second match.’ Both Pearson and Tanner sat forward a little as Handley said this.

  ‘This one’s from 2005,’ Handley continued, ‘in Bristol, the victim was a Geraldine Barton. Again, it’s a hair match with Travers. But, there was another hair sample found that didn’t match. What’s interesting here was that Travers’ hair had no follicle whereas the other hair did. The lab report says that Travers’ hair was shed – not cut – and the other was either plucked or pulled from the other party. Now, that could mean one of two contradictory things: either Marcus Travers’ hair was shed at the scene and he deliberately placed the other one there, or Travers’ hair was deliberately placed at the scene and the other one was pulled out by the victim during the attack. So either party could be implicated by the presence of their hair samples. The lab is cross-checking the other hair for matches across the series. They can extract DNA from the hair with the follicle, so we can be quite definitive about this other party.’

  Tanner grunted and shook his head. ‘So although we’ve got matches, they only potentially put Marcus Travers at two of the scenes – we can’t say for certain that he was there. And maybe this other hair sample is actually our man.’

  ‘Correct, sir,’ Handley replied. ‘However, we’ve also completed most of our checks on the dates and times Travers was out of the Foreign Office against the murders in the files. There are a number of matches that I’ve already pointed out to DCI Tanner.’

  Tanner nodded and indicated with a short wave of his hand that this had already been passed along to Pearson.

  ‘Well … we have more,’ Handley continued. ‘Travers was in Belgium, officially, on at least three of the dates correlating to the murders over there. And, on two further occasions he was reportedly off sick at the same time there were murders here in the UK. In the Belgian cases, and in those where he was away on business in the UK, he was within two hours’ drive of the murder scenes. Now, again, whilst it’s not conclusive – and bear in mind that he wasn’t the only one attending these meetings – we do now have nine murders where Marcus Travers was in the vicinity at the exact same time. Coupled with the small amount of forensic evidence, I think the weight of probability now lies on Marcus Travers’ side.’

  ‘Ok, good,’ said Pearson. ‘There may still be some unanswered questions here, but in my eyes, what we’ve got is still enough to make Marcus Travers our prime suspect. Definitely for Julia Metcalfe and now a distinct probability for The Charmer too.’

  ‘One thing that bothers me, sir …’ Tanner began. ‘If we assume for a moment that Travers is The Charmer, then we have to assume that Julia Metcalfe knew this. Why else would she state in her note to him that she would go to the police? And if she did know, why would she want to meet him?’

  ‘Well,’ Handley replied, ‘it could be that she wasn’t sure he was The Charmer. She may have wanted to see him in order to verify her theory; maybe she thought she could ask oblique enough questions that it wouldn’t make him suspect she knew. Or she had picked up on the Foreign Office angle from somewhere and was simply using Marcus to fill in the blanks. Eventually he began to suspect that she knew more than she was letting on and killed her?’

  ‘All reasonable arguments, Tony,’ Tanner replied, ‘but like many things in this fucking case it’s conjecture and nothing more.’

  Handley felt a little envious that his immediate superior could swear so readily in front of his boss, something Handley would never consider doing with Tanner.

  He conceded Tanner’s point with a nod before replying, ‘Yes sir, I know that. But then we still have no idea whether they were even discussing The Charmer case. I think we might get some answers when we’ve finished going through the paperwork found at Julia Metcalfe’s flat and cottage. There’s loads of it so it’ll take some time, but initially we’re ignoring anything that doesn’t at first glance appear to be directly about The Charmer. That’s the quickest route to discovering if there is anything of value in there. If we don’t find anything – and so far we haven’t – we can assume that this wasn’t what they were meeting for and start looking for what they might have been discussing.’

  ‘Good work Tony,’ Pearson said, ‘and well thought through. Right, looks to me like we’re making progress, slow progress, but progress nonetheless. Anything else you have for me, gents?’

  Tanner shook his head.

  Handley made an ‘ooh’ shape with his mouth. ‘Ah yes, sir, sorry I meant to say, we’ve had the Belgian lab results over and our guys have found some matching samples from their cases. None match Marcus Travers’ but they go towards confirming that all the cases are related.’

  ‘Right, good stuff, that could be useful. We need to keep the lab boys working every angle they can and we need to move faster on the Julia Metcalfe paperwork. Ok, let’s get cracking. Tony, keep on with what you’re doing and inform DCI Tanner the moment you have anything. Malcolm, you get onto the press – you’re the one running the show so I think you should be in front of the camera with the press liaison officer.’

  Tanner groaned and looked mournfully at Pearson who smiled wickedly, saying ‘Oh you love it really Malcolm, you big poser.’

  Tanner simply shook his head.

  Tanner set a brisk pace as he and Handley headed back downstairs towards the Press Liaison Office and the CID room respectively. Although
taller than his boss, Handley had to lengthen his stride to keep up.

  ‘Good work in there Tony,’ Tanner said as they started to descend the stairs.

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ Handley replied, pleased with the praise. ‘I just wish we could move things on further. I mean we do appear to be getting somewhere but there are still so many loose ends. We’re ploughing through Julia Metcalfe’s notes as quickly as we can but it doesn’t feel quick enough. Then there’s all the cross-referencing between current evidence, old cases and Belgium – that’s taking forever. And we’re still no closer to finding Marcus Travers.’

  ‘Patience son,’ Tanner said quietly. ‘You know by now that the main attribute a good detective needs is patience – that and bloody hard graft, followed by luck. I understand your frustration but we have to work through these things. Dot the i’s, cross the t’s and hope that it all comes good. You’ll get there.’

  Tanner gave Handley an out-of-character reassuring tap on the arm.

  ‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘my bloody TV appearance might just give us something on Travers. It fucking better had. I’m not doing it more than once.’

  Handley gave a small laugh. ‘DCS Pearson seemed to think you’re a natural, sir.’

  ‘Don’t push it, Tony,’ Tanner replied gruffly.

  Handley quit while the going was good and they parted ways at the bottom of the stairs.

  The office was eerily quiet as Handley entered. All his colleagues were either working heads down through Julia Metcalfe’s paperwork or talking quietly on the phone. They all had the same aim: the sifting of information, the tying together of loose ends, and the painstaking cross-referencing of new to old case notes. Handley began to weave through the desks heading for his own.

  Halfway there, he bumped into DS Roberts who was standing with a piece of paper in his hand and a quizzical look on his face.

  ‘You alright Davey?’ Handley asked, trying to see what was on the paper Roberts was holding.

  ‘Hmm? Ah Tony,’ Roberts said as he looked up, ‘didn’t see you coming there.’ He looked back down at the paper with a scowl creasing his forehead.

  ‘What’s up?’ Handley asked, trying to sound nonchalant but feeling curious. Roberts had clearly found something.

  ‘Not sure, Tony,’ he replied. ‘Is the Chief about?’

  ‘Press Office,’ Handley stated. ‘Have you got something then?’

  Getting information out of Davey Roberts involved the proverbial bloody stone. He could only be described as old-school; in a day and age where information sharing was key to police work Roberts liked to keep things to himself. He was a hoarder of information, only releasing it when it would do him the most good. Handley liked the man but hated his methods.

  He watched as Roberts weighed up his two options – telling Handley what he had, knowing Handley was meant to co-ordinate in Tanner’s absence, and the small personal victory of revealing something important to Tanner himself. Eventually, Handley won simply by looming over Roberts and making himself impossible to ignore or fob off.

  ‘Well …’ Roberts began eventually. ‘I’ve been going through Julia Metcalfe’s contacts and address books that were found at her flat.’

  Again, Roberts ground to a halt but Handley knew to remain patient and to let him spill the information in his own time.

  ‘It’s probably nothing but there’s an entry here with no name against it, just an address, see?’ Roberts pointed to the relevant entry on the piece of paper.

  ‘Yeah, I see, and…?’ Handley prompted this time.

  ‘Well it’s up in the north of Scotland. I checked the postcode, it comes out somewhere near Aberdeen,’ Roberts said looking up at Handley with raised eyebrows.

  ‘So?’ was all Handley could think of to say.

  ‘Well, doesn’t Marcus Travers come from Scotland?’ Roberts shrugged as if to indicate that that piece of knowledge was widely known and that this was probably just a coincidence.

  Handley looked at the paper again and then blankly back at Roberts for several seconds.

  ‘There are no other addresses associated with Marcus Travers – I checked months ago – nothing on the land registry, and no bills or the like associated with a second property,’ Handley said in a voice that sounded both distant and robotic.

  Roberts shrugged and began to turn away with a quiet, ‘hmph’.

  Suddenly, Handley’s eyes widened. ‘Shit!’ he exclaimed and grabbed the piece of paper from Roberts’ hand.

  ‘Oi! What the fuck Tony?’ Roberts complained loudly, but Handley was already past him and on his way to his own desk.

  ‘Parents!’ Handley muttered as he sat down. He had just recalled his conversation with Charlotte from over a fortnight before; they’d been looking at an old photo of Marcus standing with his father, the two looking less than comfortable together. She had said at the time that Marcus and his parents weren’t very close and that both were now dead.

  Although Handley had already checked and found no additional properties in Marcus Travers’ name, he hadn’t considered that there might be a property that had belonged to his parents that had perhaps been willed to someone else after their death or simply sold off. Either way it was a potential address that hadn’t come onto Handley’s radar to check. If this was his parents’ old address, Travers would have grown up there and would likely know the surrounding area like the back of his hand – it could be an ideal place to hide away in.

  Pulling up the appropriate programmes on his screen, Handley re-read the address. There was a house name – ‘Fàilte Teine’ – Handley had no idea what that meant or even what language it was in. He reasoned it would be Gaelic but couldn’t be sure. Thankfully the rest of the address was in English.

  Checking Google maps, he could see the property was in a very rural setting – isolated was the word that occurred to Handley. Again, the thought crossed his mind that this might be an ideal area to hide out in. Closing that window, he turned his attention to discovering the current and past owners.

  The land registry search came back with the owner’s name almost immediately and it stopped Handley in his tracks. He simply couldn’t decide what to make of it, couldn’t see how this fitted with anything else they knew.

  He looked again at the details. There was no mistake – the current owner was Sir Frederick Alasdair McDougal Derringham.

  Why did Julia have an address for a property belonging to Sir Frederick Derringham? And how did that fit in with her and Marcus Travers?

  Handley picked up the phone, there was only one way to find out. Dialling the Foreign Office, he hoped Derringham was there and not out on business or finished for the day.

  Agatha, Derringham’s secretary, answered: ‘Sir Frederick’s office, how can I help you?’

  ‘Ah, er, Agatha isn’t it?’ Handley asked but didn’t wait for an answer. ‘I need to speak to Sir Frederick, please. It’s quite urgent.’

  Agatha’s voice was as cool and calm as ever, as she responded: ‘I am afraid Sir Frederick has left for the day. Who’s calling please? Can I take a message?’

  Handley cursed himself for rushing in to his request to speak to Sir Frederick and not introducing himself at the outset.

  ‘It’s DC Handley,’ he replied. ‘It is quite important that I speak with Sir Frederick.’

  ‘Ah yes, Detective Constable Handley, I thought I recognised your voice. As I say Sir Frederick is out of the office. I can try to put you through to his mobile but I can’t promise he’ll be available.’

  ‘Yes, please try that – thank you.’ Handley waited while there was a series of beeps on the line.

  ‘I can put you through now, DC Handley,’ Agatha said.

  The background noise changed to the sound of a car moving at a reasonable speed. The sounds of other traffic could also be heard.

  ‘DC Handley,’ Derringham’s unmistakable voice rang through the receiver. ‘What can I do for you that’s so urgent?’

  ‘Are
you driving, Sir Frederick?’ Handley asked, ever the policeman.

  ‘Being driven old boy,’ Sir Frederick replied with a chuckle. ‘One of the perks of being a knight of the realm.’ Another short laugh followed.

  ‘Right, that’s fine, sir,’ Handley mumbled. Different worlds, he thought – not for the first time when talking to Sir Frederick. ‘You won’t be aware, Sir Frederick, but Julia Metcalfe has been murdered.’

  There was a short pause and then Sir Frederick spoke in a much lower and less jovial tone. ‘Good Lord, really? I read of a murder in Essex the other day, was that her? Hadn’t you connected her to Marcus somehow? Is he all right? Have you found him?’

  ‘Yes it was her and yes there was a connection between her and Marcus Travers. But, Sir Frederick, what I want to ask you is you said when we met last time that you didn’t know her at all, is that correct?’

  ‘Yes DC Handley, that is correct. As I told you I have never met the woman. I only came across the name when I had Agatha check the visitor logs against Marcus’ name.’

  ‘Right,’ said Handley. ‘It’s just that I have an address book here, found in Julia Metcalfe’s flat, with an address in it that is listed as belonging to you – the one in Scotland, with the unpronounceable name? How could she have that information, Sir Frederick? And why?’

  There was another long pause before Derringham spoke again. ‘I have no idea, DC Handley. I would imagine she gained the information the same way you did, she was an investigative journalist after all. But as to why she would have it I really can’t tell you. Bit creepy though, I must say.’

  ‘Yes, she could probably have got the information as easily as I did,’ Handley continued, ‘but I can’t see why she would want it. Did Marcus know about the property? Might she have got the address from him?’

  ‘I take it, Detective, that you haven’t found Marcus as yet?’ Sir Frederick asked.

  ‘No, we haven’t. Did he know about this place, Sir Frederick?’ Handley repeated, unwilling to be dragged off subject.