He looked at the others and they nodded, but no further suggestions were forthcoming.
“All right, then. Let’s try to summarise where we are in terms of working hypotheses. Number one, and seemingly the most likely one at the moment, is that Raj murders Taylor and then runs away in panic. Perhaps Taylor has discovered that Raj has been systematically looting his bank account and Raj sees killing him as the best way to keep it quiet. Perhaps Taylor and Raj were lovers, and this is a lovers tiff gone wrong. Maybe both of the above. Who knows? But either way, Raj remains our prime suspect.”
“In which case,” Metcalfe said, “just for the record as it were, there would be no connection between the two murders, would there? Wouldn’t that be quite a large coincidence, two corpses being found in such close proximity to each other?”
“Yes, it would. And that’s what makes me uneasy. It might seem that we have a very strong case against Raj for the murder of Taylor, but assuming that this young girl was killed when the fence was down then there’s no way that Raj could have been involved with that. I know we’ve dealt with coincidence before, but there’s something about this I don’t like.”
“And, talking coincidence,” Willis proffered, “what about Rowbotham’s mystery visitor? We know that almost nobody ever tried to visit Taylor. So isn’t it very strange that somebody should have been so very keen to see him just before he died? And it’s difficult to see that Raj could have had any connection with this character, whoever he may have been.”
Collison and Metcalfe looked at each other quickly.
“Let’s assume that’s the case for the time being,” Collison said carefully. “In which case, do we have a hypothesis that can accommodate our mystery man? Perhaps he returns, unobserved by Rowbotham this time, gains entry to the house, and kills Taylor. But if so, why? What possible motive could he have? Of course it’s difficult to guess at that without knowing who he is, but what might it be?”
“Perhaps he was a gay lover, who picked up Taylor when he was on the Heath? It which case the lovers tiff angle might operate again,” Desai suggested.
“Perhaps, but it’s a bit tenuous isn’t it? We know that Taylor didn’t welcome people to the house, and Raj positively discouraged him having visitors, so if Taylor was having a relationship on the side where was it happening? And anyway, how could someone gain access to the house? There’s no sign of a break-in, which means that Taylor would have had to know his attacker and let him into the house.”
“And, once again, it would assume – presumably – that the two murders were unconnected.”
“Yes, unless this mystery man was someone from Taylor’s past, and again we simply don’t know enough yet to be able to make that call.”
“So our third working hypothesis,” Metcalfe said slowly, “would be that Taylor killed his daughter, for reasons as yet unknown, buried her body in the next door garden, and was then killed himself twenty years later perhaps by someone seeking vengeance? Again, it all seems rather far-fetched, doesn’t it? But perhaps it’s the only possible explanation which makes sense of the connection between the two killings.”
They all sat and looked at each other. This was always a difficult stage in an enquiry, Collison reflected, that period when the truth was gradually starting to emerge, but was capable of fitting several different scenarios.
“Well,” he said firmly, “the one thing all this shows very clearly is that there is still a lot we need to find out. Good news, though. I’ve got permission to do a televised appeal tomorrow evening. Let’s see if that flushes something out of the woodwork.”
CHAPTER 19
Since the team were going to be in action that evening, Collison had called a break in the middle of the day and had told people they were free to go home if they wished, and to reconvene at the television studio at 5 PM. Rather than head back across London himself, he had gladly accepted an invitation from Willis and Metcalfe to spend some time at the house in Frognal. He was now happily ensconced in a large leather armchair, a cup of tea handily placed at his elbow.
“Now give me your professional opinion, Peter,” he said. “Based on what we know so far, what do you make of Johann Schneider from a psychological point of view?”
“It’s difficult to say,” Collins replied, “because I don’t have a lot of information to go on. But if it’s true about his aggressive sexual activity as a teenager then that does strike a chord.”
“I thought it might.”
“Well of course you know this as well as I do, but attacks of a sexual nature during the early or mid teens are one of the common characteristics of a psychopath who may develop into a serial killer. So are acts of cruelty against animals, or damage to property; it would be interesting to find out whether anything like that went on. So, incidentally, is the lack of a proper relationship with either or both parents. Here, from what we know so far, he had a very difficult relationship with his mother and was then physically separated from his father. Separated, moreover, in what seemed to have been very mysterious circumstances.”
“Yes, my thoughts exactly. Is it possible – and this is just a hypothesis, no more – that what we might be looking at here is the first victim of a serial killer, namely Johann Schneider? And if that’s right, where do we start looking for later victims?”
“Well, wherever he went, presumably. But I should sound a note of caution. Serial killers rarely murder family members, not initially anyway. Christie killed his wife of course, but that was in rather different circumstances.”
“So if the victim does turn out to have been Elizabeth Schneider, as we suspect, that would make the hypothesis less compelling?”
“Decidedly so, in my view.”
“Sorry, guv,” Willis said with a smile.
“Well, it is rather a pity isn’t it? It would be a theory that would at least offer some connection. That’s what baffles me about this case, at least so far. Is it really credible that two murders, committed in or around the same house, separated by 20 years or so but both discovered within the last few days, could really be completely unconnected?”
“Synchronicity,” Collins murmured.
“Yes, I know all about synchronicity, Peter, and I’m very sympathetic to Jung’s views as you know, but dammit I’m a copper, and coppers don’t like coincidence. No, there’s something missing here, something we don’t know yet, or do know but haven’t realised the significance of.”
“Well, maybe the TV appeal will throw up something,” Metcalfe suggested. “I’ve been talking to a mate of mine who did one a few years ago and they had a fantastic response: 40 or 50 calls within the first hour or so, including one with a lead which led them straight to their man.”
“Let’s hope so,” Collison said fervently, “because, to be honest, I’m starting to run out of ideas.”
•
On arrival at the TV studio it transpired that most of the team had contrived during the afternoon break to get dressed in their smartest clothes and generally make the best of their appearance. Willis strongly suspected that Godwin had even been to the hairdresser. Collison was whisked away by the presenter while the rest of the team were assigned to desks which had already been set up with telephones answering to the number which would be given during the appeal. There was now an awkward period of inaction while they waited for the program to air. The hot drinks from the studios vending machine were sampled, and pronounced to be even worse than those on offer in the canteen at Hampstead nick.
“Have you ever been on television before, Timothy?” Metcalfe asked Evans.
“Can’t say I have, guv. And yourself ?”
“Not so far as I’m aware, no. Still, I don’t think people will see much of us. The focus will be on Mr Collison.”
Evans seem disappointed to hear this.
“Hope not, guv,” he said anxiously, “my mum’s got the whole family round to watch. She’s recording it and everything.”
As the transmission time approa
ched the team were ushered back to their desks. Collison appeared in the seating area together with a well-known celebrity who was fronting the program. It looked suspiciously as though both men were wearing make-up. Metcalfe looked around curiously. He had never been in a television studio before, and was struck by how very few people were involved in the process. All the electronics seem to be handled remotely, while the cameras themselves were on robotic dollies and moved around the room like Daleks. As he watched, the producer counted them down and the program began.
The front man smiled engagingly into the camera and began by explaining the context of the appeal before introducing Collison.
“A few days ago,” Collison began, “police officers discovered the body of a man in a house on Downshire Hill in Hampstead. His name was Conrad Taylor and he had been murdered some weeks previously. This is an unusual appeal in that we already have a suspect in custody charged with his murder, but there are many aspects of the case which we do not yet fully understand, and it is in the hope that somebody out there can help us unravel some of these mysteries that we are asking now for your help.”
The photos first of Wentworth House and then Conrad Taylor over which he had been speaking faded from the screen. He went on.
“First and foremost, we believe that until about 20 years ago Conrad Taylor lived at Wentworth House with his family, comprising his wife and two children: a son Johann, who also used the name John, and a daughter Elizabeth. I should also mention that we believe at that time not only the deceased but his whole family were using the name of Schneider. With the exception of Conrad Taylor himself, the entire family seems abruptly to have vanished from the scene. We are very anxious indeed to hear from anybody who may know of their past or present whereabouts.”
“Second, we have very recently indeed discovered some human remains in the back garden of the neighbouring house. No formal identification of these remains has yet been possible, and it goes without saying that we are also anxious to hear from anybody who may be able to throw any light on this discovery. It seems that at about the time the family disappeared from Wentworth House, the fence between the two back gardens had been removed during the course of building works, so that it would have been possible to access either back garden from the other, or indeed from the street since one of the side gates had also been removed. We are for the time being treating these two crimes as connected.”
“Third, we are anxious to trace a man who called at Wentworth House some weeks ago and, unable to gain any response, went next door to speak to one of the neighbours, asking if Conrad Taylor still lived at the property. He is described as about 40 years old, white, tall, and strongly built. We are very anxious to eliminate this man from our enquiries and would appeal to him to come forward and identify himself. We would also like to hear from anyone who may be able to explain why this enquiry was being made, and by whom.”
The camera cut back to the presenter.
“As the Superintendent says, this is an unusual case for us to feature. Normally we are asking for your help either to identify a suspect or to locate their whereabouts. In this case, as the police readily admit, they have a suspect already in custody. But please don’t let that stop you from coming forward if you know anything at all that you think may be of relevance to this enquiry. A telephone number is now being shown on screen, will be shown again at the end of the programme, and is featured on our website. If for any reason you are unable to get through, you may if you wish speak to your local police station. If you do know anything, no matter how unimportant it may seem, please do get in touch.”
He waited for the notification in his earpiece that the programme had moved onto the next item, and then turned and nodded to Collison.
“Well done. You can relax now, the mics and cameras aren’t live anymore.”
Collison thanked him and wandered across to where the team were waiting self-consciously at their desks. There was an eerie quiet. He remembered the old joke about ‘first nothing happened but then nothing happened’.
Suddenly, about 10 minutes after the item, the phone rang and Metcalfe picked it up. Slowly it was joined by others until most of the team were busy talking and making notes. Collison wandered around, looking over people’s shoulders. Nothing jumped off the page at him, except that Evans had been doodling excessively.
At the end of the programme there was a brief roundup by the presenter, who remarked that many phone calls had already been received on the Conrad Taylor enquiry. After about an hour more the calls petered out entirely, and Collison called a halt. The only officer still talking was Desai, who had just begun a new conversation.
“Hello, you’re speaking to Detective Sergeant Desai. Thank you for calling. How can I help?”
“Well, it’s that piece I just saw on television. About the house on Downshire Hill.”
“Yes, I’m working on that investigation. Who’s calling, please?”
“Do I have to give my name?”
“Not if you don’t want to, but it’s much better if you do. We might not be able to use whatever information you have if it’s given anonymously.”
“Well, I’d rather not get involved. It’s just I know something about that family.”
“OK, what can you tell me about them?”
“The three of them – the mother and the two kids that is – packed up and left one night and went to Canada.”
“Canada? Now that is useful. Do you know whereabouts, or how we might contact them?”
“Somewhere near Toronto. The mother died a year or so back.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Never mind that. I just do.”
There was a pause and Desai sensed that the caller was fighting the impulse to hang up.
“Please don’t go,” she said quickly. “You only have to tell me what you want to tell me. I won’t press you for anything else.”
There was another long silence.
“Why do you want to know all this?” the voice asked finally.
“Because we want to know who killed Conrad Taylor, and we want to find out the identity of whoever it was that was buried next door. We’d be really grateful for any help you can give us with either question.”
“You think it’s the daughter, don’t you? The body you dug up. Elizabeth Schneider, I mean.”
“I can’t comment on that, but obviously it’s a possibility, yes.”
“It’s not. It’s not her.”
“Who is it then?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not her.”
“And how do you know all this?”
Desai had a sudden premonition what the answer might be, and started waving her free hand, still holding a pen, to attract attention. The others gazed at her curioiusly.
Again there was a silence, but then the answer came.
“Because I’m Elizabeth Schneider.”
CHAPTER 20
“You did well, Priya,” Collison said the next morning.
“Do you think so, guv? I was gutted that I couldn’t get her to tell me where she was, or agree to a meeting.”
“She did say she’d call back,” Collison replied, “and you gave her your number here at the nick.”
“Yes I know, but will she?”
“Of course, it could be a hoax,” Metcalfe pointed out. “It happens a lot, doesn’t it? Remember the Yorkshire Ripper enquiry. That was completely derailed by a hoax caller they took seriously.”
“Yes, Peter had an idea about that,” Willis said. “He suggested that if she does call back we tell her exactly that. Namely, that unless we can talk to her in person and verify her identity then we can’t be sure that she’s on the level. In other words, we hint very strongly that if she’s just a voice on the end of the phone we will probably have to assume she’s a hoaxer.”
“That sounds like good advice,” Collison observed. “If she was keen enough to get in touch with us then surely she’ll also be keen enough for what she has to sa
y to be taken seriously.”
Metcalfe looked at his watch. It was already 9:30 and the morning meeting would normally have been taking place, but had been delayed until 10 o’clock to allow the team, who had been at the television studio until quite late, a little extra time in bed.
“Can I suggest that Priya goes and sits by her phone? If she does call then we don’t want to miss her.”
“Yes, good idea, Bob. Priya, off you go. Now then, you two, before the rest of the gang arrives let’s have a little think about where we go from here. We obviously have two alternative possibilities: either the body in the flower bed is Elizabeth Schneider, in which case last night’s call was just some sort of sick joke, or it’s not. I must say that I rather like the second alternative since it keeps alive the possibility of this having been the first victim of a serial killer, namely Johann Schneider.”
“I was proposing to detail some of the team to investigate any reports of young women having gone missing locally at about that time,” Metcalfe said. “I’m also going to ask people to investigate local dentists to see if anybody might have Elizabeth Schneider’s dental records. It’s a long shot of course, since it was a long time ago.”
“Good, I see we’re thinking along the same lines. If it isn’t the Schneider girl, then of course that opens up all sorts of other possibilities apart from Johann. We know from Rowbotham that pretty much anybody could just have wandered in off the street, though whether they would have done so carrying a body must be open to question. And if it isn’t the Schneider girl, then what on earth prompted the sudden disappearance of the rest of the family? Unless the death and the disappearance were entirely unconnected, which seems hugely unlikely.”
“And it’s even more complicated than that, isn’t it?” put in Willis. “We don’t know for certain that the family’s disappearance was connected with the murder of Conrad Taylor. On the contrary, we have a suspect in custody who cannot have any connection with the disappearance at all. So we’re not really talking about two possibly unrelated events, but three.”
The House on Downshire Hill Page 13