Two Victims

by Helen H. Durrant

  “We are combing every inch of that area,” Jude said. “If there is a bullet, we’ll find it. There’s no sign of a gun, so I guess the killer took it away with him.”

  “I’d like to know if both this girl and Agnes were killed with the same gun,” Rachel said. “Both shot and left within inches of each other — it’s just too much of a coincidence.”

  “Best not jump to conclusions yet,” Jude said.

  “Did you find anything else?” Rachel mentally crossed her fingers. She needed something to go on.

  “The remnants of her clothing are interesting,” Jude said. “A short skirt and crop top made from a scarlet silky fabric. It looked like a type of uniform, but where from is anyone’s guess.”

  Rachel immediately thought of the girl with pink hair who’d spoken to them outside the health centre. She was wearing clothes matching this description. Did she work at the same place?

  “Can we be sure she’s been dead two months?” Rachel asked Butterfield.

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  “But we’ve found something else that might help,” Jude added. “We found this under the body. She may have been holding it when she was killed.”

  Jude held up an evidence bag containing a dirty scrap of paper.

  “It’s very wet and the print has faded, but you can just make out the address at the top. It came from the Medical Centre in Beswick. It looks like an appointment card to me. It’s difficult to read, but it’s dated this year. We’ve photographed it and enhanced it as best we can. I’ll put it in the report, of course, but in the meantime, I’ll text you a copy.”

  It was a start.

  “There’s another thing too,” Jude said. “When I was examining Agnes Moore’s clothes I found this in the pocket of her skirt.”

  Jude held up a second evidence bag. This one contained a necklace, a fine gold chain with a flat gold heart hanging from it.

  “There’s an inscription,” Jude said. “It simply reads, ‘Agnes’ with an ‘X’ underneath it. A kiss?”

  Rachel’s mind was racing. “She hid it. Took it off and put it in her pocket, out of sight. It must’ve been important to her.”

  Jude smiled. “Possibly. It’s new, the hallmark on the heart confirms that.”

  “A present from someone?” Rachel said.

  “A heart,” Jude added. “That probably means a man.”

  Jude was probably right. Rachel took a couple of photos of it with her mobile. “I’ll see if her workmates know anything about it. I doubt whether her sister will.”

  “Agnes’s clothing had a lot of small fibreglass strands caught in it,” Jude said.

  “Where would they have come from?” Rachel asked.

  “You know the type that comes in a roll? It’s used for roofing insulation. They were possibly picked up from the vehicle that transported her to the site.”

  “Thanks, Jude, that is useful.” Rachel smiled at her. Jude had given them quite a few leads.

  “We’ll be able to get DNA from the girl, if you find someone you want me to try and match.” Jude nodded at the slab. “I’m still running tests on this one. It’s sad, isn’t it? I wonder if anyone is missing her.”

  Butterfield had been quietly getting on with the post-mortem. “She’s given birth,” he suddenly announced examining the pelvis.

  An added complication. “I wonder what happened to the infant?” Rachel said. “Can you tell if she went to full term?”

  Butterfield shrugged. “Difficult to say.”

  “If she did give birth, she may have had help to arrange foster care or adoption, or a relative may have the child. Perhaps that’s what the appointment was for.” Jude nodded at the scrap of paper in the evidence bag. “I’ll get as good an image as I can for you.”

  Rachel glanced at her watch. She’d check with the health centre, see if they had any record.

  “She has two healed rib fractures,” Butterfield said, “inflicted no more than two years ago.”

  Rachel sighed. This girl, whoever she was, had lived a hard life. So what chance would her offspring have? “A beating?”

  “You know I can’t tell that,” Butterfield said. “It is a possibility, but they could just as easily have been caused by a fall. She’s had a broken arm too. There is a fracture of the radius that is several years old.”

  Rachel had heard enough. The girl was too young to have lived such a hard and painful life. Her history was crucial to finding out why she died.

  “Thanks, Jude. I’ll leave you to it.”

  This case just got more complicated. Agnes and the girl had both been killed in the same way, so Agnes’s murder wasn’t random. It looked like they had a serial killer on their hands.

  * * *

  Back in her car, Rachel rang Elwyn. “I’m still at the morgue, and I’ve had a break of sorts. Agnes had a necklace hidden in a pocket of her skirt. I’m off to see her sister and then the health centre, see if anyone recognises it. An appointment card from there was found underneath the older body. I’ll ask about that too.”

  “Is the necklace important?” he asked.

  “It’s actually a chain with a heart-shaped pendant. It has her name on it, with a kiss. It may have been given to her by a man. That’s worth investigating. From what Jude has turned up, I reckon the same killer murdered both women. Both were shot in the head.”

  “That’s not good, Rachel. I hope they don’t find any more bodies.”

  “Where are you?” she asked.

  “I’m still at the bank,” he said. “They’re dragging their heels about granting access to the footage. I’ll ring you when I get it.”

  Rachel made her way to Audenshaw. She hadn’t rung ahead and just hoped that Anthea would be in. She was getting out of the car when a neighbour called out to her.

  “I heard what happened. Dreadful business. It’s really upset that one.” She nodded at Anthea’s door. “She’s taken it badly. It’s made her a nervous wreck.”

  “Not surprising,” Rachel said. “It was her sister.”

  “Don’t be fooled. They didn’t always get on — argued like mad at times. Strong personalities, the pair of them, particularly Anthea. She didn’t approve of Agnes’s job, or her friends come to that.”

  That sparked Rachel’s interest. “Which friends in particular, do you know?”

  But the neighbour didn’t have time to reply. Anthea appeared at the front door. “Do you want me?”

  “I’d like another word,” Rachel said.

  “I’ve told you everything I can,” Anthea said. “It’s upsetting, all this interrogation.”

  “I’m not interrogating you, Anthea. I simply want to find who killed your sister.” Rachel followed Anthea inside, took her mobile from her pocket and showed her the photos of the necklace. “Do you recognise this?”

  Anthea backed away, staring at Rachel. “Was it him? Did he do it?”

  “Who, Anthea?”

  “I kept telling her he was no good. He’s been inside, you know, and he’s a druggie. But Agnes wouldn’t listen. She said I was jealous, that he was a different man now.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him before?” Rachel asked.

  Anthea looked away. “I don’t know. I suppose I was afraid. He’s dangerous. I’ve only met him once and we didn’t get on. I needed time to think.”

  “His name, Anthea.” Rachel was losing patience with the woman. “I need a name.”

  “Don Akerman.”

  “Where will I find him?” Rachel asked.

  “At the homeless hostel. He works there.”

  Rachel went back to her car and rang the incident room. She spoke to Stella, the information officer. “Look up a Don Akerman on the system. He’s done time. I want to know what for and when. Text the info to me.”

  She rang Jonny. “There’s a man called Akerman working at the hostel. He was close to Agnes. Don’t let him know you’re interested, just keep an eye on him. I’m on my way.”

&nbs
p; Chapter Nine

  “I hate this part of town,” Amy said. “It’s old and dirty, and needs all the rejuvenation it can get. If you ask me, those houses McAteer’s building will enhance round here no end.”

  “It does look a bit rough,” Jonny shouted, struggling to make himself heard above the roar of the traffic. “Noisy too. That was the boss, she’s going to join us. There’s a bloke works here we’re to keep an eye on.”

  “Doesn’t trust us to question him ourselves, I suppose,” Amy complained. “What is it with her? I want to go for sergeant, but that’ll never happen with that one on my case.”

  But Jonny wasn’t listening. His attention had been drawn to two men arguing outside the rundown building that housed the hostel. One looked ready to punch the other. Jonny jumped out and ran over to them.

  “Whoa, mate, take a step back.” Jonny pulled the smaller of the two away. He had what looked like blood all down the front of his T-shirt, but on closer inspection, Jonny realised it was soup. “I’d go back in and get cleaned up if I was you,” he said.

  “He’s barred!” bellowed a woman from the hostel doorway. “He’s a troublemaker, and we can do without the aggro.”

  The woman’s hefty build matched with her voice. She wore a smudged white overall and had a tea towel draped over one shoulder. Her podgy face was made no slimmer by a mass of dry bleached hair. “We’re busy serving the poor buggers a hot dinner when he comes in and starts throwing his weight about.” She stared at Jonny for a moment. “You’re police, aren’t yer? Tell you lot a mile off. Sort him, will yer, then come in and I’ll give you a cuppa.”

  Amy giggled. “Too good an invitation to pass up.”

  “Is there somewhere else you can go to clean up?” Jonny asked the man.

  “Mate down the road,” he muttered, and staggered off.

  Jonny and Amy went inside. The place was full. A dozen tables filled the small room and there must have been fifty or more people seated around them, all eating hungrily.

  “Over here!” the woman called out. “Mavis Smithson, Supervisor.” She plonked two mugs of tea on the counter. “Fill your boots. There’s sugar over there.”

  “We’re looking for a Mr Akerman. Does he work here?” Amy asked.

  “Don? Yes, he’s the manager, but it’s his day off today.” She eyed the two of them suspiciously. “Why, what d’you think he’s done?”

  “We’d like a word, that’s all.” Jonny smiled at her.

  “Don’t soft soap me, laddie. I know about Don’s past. He’s been inside. He’s got a reputation.” She leaned towards Jonny. “But you’ve got to be hard to survive in this place. Otherwise the punters will walk all over you.”

  “A word won’t hurt, surely?” Amy said.

  Rachel had made it to the hostel in record time. “Right. Where is he?” She strode up to the counter and showed Mavis Smithson her warrant card. “I’d help us if I were you.”

  Mavis smirked at Jonny. “She the boss? Well, God help you!”

  “Don’t make me get heavy,” Rachel retorted.

  “Well he’s not here,” Mavis said. “And I’m not bloody psychic.”

  “His address then. We need a word urgently.”

  “Hassle, hassle. Gets more than his fair share, does Don. He doesn’t do anything to deserve it either. Sure, he’s been inside but he’s a changed man now. He’s not like he was.” Reluctantly, Mavis handed Rachel a card with Akerman’s address on it.

  * * *

  “Amy, get back to the station and check Akerman’s background. I want to know what he was in for, who he was involved with, and what he’s been up to since he got out. You’ve been looking into the Moore sisters’ background. I’m surprised his name didn’t turn up.”

  “Well, it didn’t,” Amy said. “I’ve looked, but there’s precious little on either of them.”

  “In that case you get out there and ask people who knew Agnes and the other one. Come on, Amy, I shouldn’t have to tell you how to do your job.” Rachel looked at Jonny. “You’re with me.”

  “Suspect is he, this Akerman?” he asked.

  “He’s a boyfriend of Agnes’s and known to have a short fuse. He bought her this.” She found the photo and tossed her mobile to him. “We find him, have a chat and go from there. It’ll take Amy a little while to get on top of this. Meanwhile, I’ve asked Stella to email me his record from the system. You look out for it, while I drive.”

  “Ardwick, at the back of the Apollo. Shouldn’t take us long,” Jonny said.

  Rachel wasn’t listening. She was pondering the reason why Anthea hadn’t told her about this Akerman bloke. Did the people she worked with know him? They had to, he was from the hostel. She’d sort Akerman and then have another word with both Anthea and Lorraine Hughes at the health centre.

  Rachel’s mobile beeped. As she was driving, Jonny picked it up. “Info’s in. He was done for GBH. Ten years ago. Apparently he beat his wife to a pulp. He didn’t bother denying it in court. Too much evidence. He had history. His wife had spent time in a refuge, but she kept going back to him.”

  Rachel sighed. “Some women never learn.”

  Minutes later, she pulled up in front of a dingy terraced house.

  Jonny cast his eyes over the front of the building. “God, this is the pits.”

  “Come on, wits about you, this one’s got a reputation.” Rachel hammered on the door with her fist. “Mr Akerman! Police. We need to speak to you.”

  No sound from inside. Nothing moved.

  “Get round the back,” Rachel said. “He might decide to make a run for it.”

  Rachel called again, and after some time, a man appeared at an upstairs window. “What d’you want?”

  “Don Akerman?”

  He nodded. Rachel held up her warrant card. “We need to speak to you about Agnes Moore.”

  He withdrew his head and moments later the front door opened. “Sorry. I’m painting upstairs. I was up a ladder when you knocked.”

  “Can I come in?” Rachel asked.

  He nodded, and she followed him in along a dimly lit hallway. Akerman was tall and thin with a slight stoop. He had dark circles around his eyes and sunken cheeks. Rachel had seen many addicts in her time, and Akerman certainly looked the part.

  “I’m doing the place up. Property’s booming in Manchester at the moment, and I hope to sell it at a profit,” he said.

  “When did you last see Agnes?” Rachel asked, unimpressed with this explanation.

  “Monday. Before she went away. I met her after work and we had a drink and a bite to eat in the pub.”

  “Which pub?” she asked.

  “The Grapes, opposite the health centre.” He looked her up and down. “What’s this about? Is Agnes alright?”

  Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Why? What d’you know?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “All I know is that Agnes was going away. We had a chat over a meal and she got a taxi home. That’s it.”

  “Agnes has been murdered,” Rachel said bluntly. “Badly beaten and brutally killed, Mr Akerman.”

  He scowled. “So straight away you come for me. I’ve got a record, and I’m no saint, but I don’t hurt women, not anymore, and I certainly don’t kill them.”

  “You have a pretty damning history though. You did half-kill your wife, and you did time for it,” Rachel said.

  “I’m a different man now!” he shouted, pushing his face close to hers. “I’ve got a job at the homeless shelter in Beswick. I manage the place, so don’t piss me off with crap about my past.”

  “Calm down,” Rachel said.

  “Sorry. I just get het up when that rears its ugly head. But I’ve changed. Ask anyone. Ask at the hostel, they’ll tell you. That’s where I met Agnes. We both do our best to help those people.”

  “I want you to come down to the station with me,” said Rachel. She wanted a statement from him about Monday. She also wanted to check out his tale about being in the Grapes.

  �
�Why? Am I under arrest? I’ve done nowt. You can’t make me.”

  “You’re helping us with our enquiries,” she said. “I’m sure you want to know who killed Agnes every bit as much as we do.”

  He sighed. “Give me a minute to lock the back door.”

  Rachel had forgotten about Jonny. He must still be around the back.

  “Mr Akerman!” She ran after him. But the back door was swinging on its hinges. He’d gone. There was no sign of Jonny either.

  Rachel swore and made a dash for the yard gate. Pulling it open, she heard Jonny shouting for help. There, in the ginnel at the back of the terrace, he had a kicking and screaming Akerman pinned to the ground.

  “Get the cuffs on him,” she said. “We’re taking him in.”

  Chapter Ten

  Rachel was addressing the team. “We have Don Akerman in the cells. As yet we have no evidence to link him to Agnes’s murder, but the moment he got the chance, he ran. He’s afraid of something, and he has a history of violence against women. So he remains a person of interest until we prove otherwise.”

  “The attack on his wife was particularly vicious.” Amy was reading from the report. “He broke several ribs.”

  Rachel looked at Jonny. “The Grapes pub in Beswick. Get down there pronto and ask if Akerman was there with Agnes on Monday evening. I want to know what time they arrived and when they left, and if they argued at all.” She turned to Amy. “There is CCTV down that road. Have it sent over. You might see them leaving. It’s important to discover what Agnes did when she left that pub, and how she got home, if she ever did.”

  “I eventually got the footage from the bank,” Elwyn said. “It won’t be long before we see who withdrew that money.”

  Rachel went to her office. Once she had some feedback from Jonny, she’d interview Akerman. She accessed his record on the system and read through it for herself. Amy was right, he’d been one vicious bastard. Wife beating, and a history of going ballistic. He’d lost jobs in the past because of his short fuse.

  “Rachel, you need to see this,” Elwyn said.

  She followed Elwyn to his desk in the incident room. He had frozen the CCTV at the point where Agnes’s debit card was being used.