The Ice Killer (The DI Barton Series)

by Ross Greenwood

  Lucy’s jaw bunched, but she nodded.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ said Ellen.

  ‘These are one-bedroom flats, aren’t they? Do you mind if I look around?’

  He turned on his heel and had pushed the bedroom door open before they had a chance to reply. There were clothes and shoes all over the floor. He recalled his daughter’s bedroom and wondered if Layla was destined to still have a floordrobe when she was Ellen’s age. The bathroom was dated but spotless.

  ‘Happy?’ asked Lucy, who had followed him.

  ‘Yes. I’m pleased you’re being so helpful. We’ll drive you down to the police station and take a statement from both of you.’

  ‘Is that necessary? We’d rather do it here in the comfort of my sister’s home.’

  ‘I expect you would, but no. The conversation will be recorded there. I’m cautioning you now as what you say may be given in evidence. There’s free legal advice at the station for your sister if you have other plans.’

  ‘Very funny. And if we refuse? It’s not like we’re under arrest.’

  Barton respected Lucy’s approach. She was searching for information by her open questions, while also trying to appear accommodating. He now knew that Ellen had mental-health issues, which meant he would need to be careful how he progressed. The Twelvetrees case was a good example of the danger of locking individuals up without the correct support.

  ‘You said you wanted to help,’ said Barton.

  ‘We do.’

  ‘This is how you do it. If you decline, I’m happy to arrest you both. I probably will do at the station because people have died. Me not cuffing her is based on your cooperation. It’s highly likely Ellen will need to appear before the courts to explain what occurred during the Hofstadt incident. At the minimum there will be an inquest by the coroner’s office. And that’s before we find out what happened in the other situations we know she’s involved in.’

  He turned to Zelensky. ‘You go back with the others. Zander and I will drive these helpful citizens back to the station. Ellen, Lucy, do you have any questions before we leave?’

  Ellen shook her head. Lucy grabbed her coat and returned to stand in front of Barton.

  ‘I’ve spoken to Ellen and told her to tell you everything she’s told me. We want to put these terrible events behind us and move on.’

  ‘I’d appreciate that.’

  ‘However, I’ve told her not to say anything without me present.’

  Barton couldn’t prevent a flicker of anger from passing over his face, but Ellen stared in his eyes as she walked past and said, ‘The truth will shock you.’

  65

  Acting DCI Barton

  Barton and Zander shared a glance as they descended the stairs. It was a strange situation. Malik and Leicester had been waiting outside in case of something unexpected. Barton watched as Ellen drew stares from the younger officers. There was a willowy grace to her that he’d rarely encountered.

  ‘Change of plan,’ said Barton. ‘Leicester and Zelensky, you escort the sisters to Thorpe Wood Station and get them a coffee in one of the interview rooms. We’ll follow. Malik, wait for a moment.’

  After the sisters were out of earshot, Zander smiled at Barton.

  ‘Did that seem weird to you?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, somewhat. It felt a bit like I was playing a game but didn’t know the rules. But they’ll be on our turf now.’

  ‘We’re going to separate them, right?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Let’s discuss it on the way. Malik, where’s Ewing?’

  ‘I’ve got no idea. He texted me about an hour before lunch, saying something had popped up.’

  ‘You mean cropped up?’

  ‘Who knows what he meant? He was supposed to meet us at the café and never showed. I’ve rung him a few times, but it rang out and went to voicemail. He had a test drive booked for a new car this afternoon, so he might have gone there.’

  ‘Great. It sounds like he’s sloped off early. If you get hold of him, tell him to return to the station. I want everyone’s paperwork done, especially witness statements from those present at the fatal RTC. Then we’ll have a meeting after I’ve spoken to Ellen and Lucy.’

  Barton got into Zander’s car.

  ‘It sounds as if Ewing is a bit of a Romeo,’ said Zander.

  ‘Love toad is a better description. Did you know Strange and I encouraged Zelensky to give him another chance?’

  ‘Ouch.’

  ‘Yes. Right, that can’t be helped. I think we interview the sisters together, seeing as they’ve said they’re going to talk, but I’ll check with CPS. They’ve had time to concoct a story if that’s what they want to do, but you and me have heard enough lies to spot that.’

  ‘They are smart, but we need to be smarter.’

  ‘Correct. This is where we prove our worth. I think they will be overconfident. We can always interview them individually afterwards. If we split them up now, they’ll get the best solicitors, and we might end up with nothing.’

  ‘Good call, especially considering the evidence we have is inconclusive. Besides, Ellen has mental-health issues, so we’d need to provide an appropriate adult anyway. How about getting Strange to do the interview with you? Have a woman’s perspective. She’s the most recently qualified of us to do interviews at this level, and she might also be immune to Ellen’s charms.’

  Barton was happy to try any angle, and that seemed a good idea.

  ‘I agree.’ Barton grumbled with frustration. ‘Bloody hell. This is starting to get to me. Ellen could say what she likes to a certain degree and there’s nobody left to give another version of events. Let’s hope she tells the truth, because Cox has been gone a while and we’ve barely solved a thing since I was in charge.’

  ‘That’s what happens,’ said Zander with a cheeky look. ‘You do a great job and keep getting promoted until you finish in a role where you’re out of your depth.’

  Barton put his foot down on the parkway. He had a sinking feeling this case would define his career.

  66

  Acting DCI Barton

  Before conducting the interview, Barton rang the CPS solicitor to clarify what they’d need before charging. When Barton had finished explaining everything, the solicitor put him on hold. She returned without enthusiasm.

  ‘Apologies for that, I was double-checking with a colleague. I hate to use a cliché, but this is a real can of worms. We could charge her with manslaughter for the bus, but that’s not the case we’re interested in. People have been killed in those other incidents, and we have no idea what’s occurred. We need that woman to tell us what she knows. Sweet-talk her if necessary. You can always come down hard later, but right now we’re whistling in the wind.’

  Barton frowned as he deciphered the avalanche of clichés but got the message. He cut the call and took the stairs to the interview suite where Strange was waiting. He briefed her, and she was as intrigued as he was. They entered Room Two and pulled up chairs in front of the sisters.

  He warned Ellen and Lucy that, while they were not under arrest, they were under caution, which he repeated. He also reminded them that the interview was being recorded and they could request other legal advice at any point. Zander was watching the feed in another room. Barton would tolerate Lucy’s presence, because it was Ellen’s story he wanted. Besides, it wouldn’t be much different from a criminal solicitor being present.

  Barton remembered his first murder case where they’d suspected the woman had killed her husband. Barton had wanted to go in guns blazing and beat her down with facts and suppositions, wielded with righteous fury. It had been DCI Naeem who suggested he say nothing and learn.

  She said you get one chance at the first interview. If they’re happy with no solicitor present, then it’s a great opportunity. Best practice is to keep it relaxed, put the subject at ease, and let them tell their version of events. And then you keep them talking and talking, for as long as possible. Few can maintain their pe
rformance over many hours. The answers they give may well be the only holes the Crown’s prosecutor finds. Strange smiled at Ellen.

  ‘What do you have to tell us?’

  Ellen’s wide eyes watered. Barton felt a twinge of pity as a tear rolled down her cheek. Lucy put a hand on her sister’s.

  ‘Where would you like me to start?’ said Ellen.

  ‘Maybe from the beginning.’

  After a deep breath, those cool eyes blinked a few times, and she began.

  ‘I slipped off the rails a bit during the last few years at school and started hanging around with the wrong crowd. I think it’s important that I tell you I’m attracted to unsuitable men. They seem to be able to pick up on my vulnerabilities and take advantage. A man called Carl Quantrill took my virginity in a brutal manner when I was eighteen. It wasn’t rape, but it wasn’t far off.’

  ‘This is the same Carl Quantrill who died with his housemates recently,’ said Strange.

  ‘That’s right. It messed me up further. I ended up in a destructive relationship with an older man called James Vickerman. He got me hooked on class A drugs, regularly hit me, made me steal for him, and finally made me change my name to his when I had no idea what was going on. He was tangled up with all manner of bad types, and I can’t remember much for most of that time. I got concussed when he threw me down a flight of stairs in a shopping centre. Even then, he wouldn’t let me go to hospital.’

  ‘It sounds like you had a tough start to life,’ stated Strange.

  Barton noticed that the sisters didn’t exchange looks at that point.

  ‘It went horribly wrong when I was attacked by one of those scumbags. Wee Jock dragged me into a back garden. I don’t even think he wanted me sexually, just to hurt me. Vickerman somehow found out and managed to free me. I ran and had a complete breakdown. I never knew what happened until years later when they told me that my attacker had been killed.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell the police what you knew?’ asked Barton.

  ‘I didn’t want to get involved. I was admitted to a private hospital for a lengthy period and had managed to escape Vickerman’s jealous rages and my drug addiction. That world, and the people in it, had nothing I wanted.’

  ‘That was a long time ago. Were you cured?’ asked Strange.

  ‘No, my condition is not something you can cure. The medication and support you receive afterwards make you well, but it’s easy to relapse. I found it easier to live a quiet life. One with few friends and little upheaval. As you can imagine, it’s hard for me to form trusting relationships and I don’t seem to meet anyone nice. Anyway, the years ticked by without incident until recently.’

  ‘How did you end up at Quantrill’s house?’ asked Strange.

  Barton had agreed earlier that Strange would reveal they knew some parts of the story, but not all.

  ‘My mother died, and I struggled to cope. I don’t have much of a support circle. My sister lives quite a long way away, and I had few acquaintances outside work. I was due to meet a friend on that Saturday night, and he never showed. When I walked past The Hartley, I remembered going there when I was young. So, I went for a drink. They were in there, Quantrill, Ash, and a guy I didn’t know called Duncan.’

  Ellen paused and wiped her eyes. She either didn’t want to talk about it, or it was an act. Both seemed possible.

  ‘I take it all four of you returned to his house?’ said Strange.

  ‘That’s right. We drank a lot in the pub, and stronger alcohol came out at theirs. Things changed, the atmosphere, and I just knew something awful was going to happen. They, they…’

  Ellen’s face hardened. Her jaw bunched, and she removed her white knuckles from the table and put them underneath.

  ‘You can take a break if you like,’ said Barton.

  ‘No, I want to get this over with and go home. They all wanted to have sex with me, against my will. It’s a blur, but two of them couldn’t manage it. Quantrill did. The big one, Ash, got mad because he couldn’t perform. I remember him pulling his arm back to hit me, then I woke up battered and half-naked and tried to sneak out. Ash stopped me leaving, but the others said to leave me alone. They were fighting as I left. They’d told me earlier that Vickerman lived ten houses from them because they sometimes scored drugs from him. I was frightened and couldn’t think of where else to go.’

  ‘They were all alive when you left Quantrill’s place?’ asked Barton.

  ‘Yes, but two of them were really drunk and the muscly one was spoiling for a fight. I could hear bottles smashing. Vickerman and his flatmate, a guy called Quinn, were still up when I knocked. They seemed in a strange mood with bloodshot eyes. I told them I’d been attacked, and they reckoned they’d sort it out for me. I said to leave it, but they ran upstairs to get ready, whatever that meant. The moment they left me alone, I grabbed a long coat near the door and sneaked out.’

  ‘And went home?’

  ‘Yes, I tried to forget. I rarely watch the news and it wasn’t until the following Friday that I heard the three of them had died.’

  ‘And yet you still didn’t get in touch with the police?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure of the dates. Part of me thought they got what they deserved. I visited Vickerman’s a few weeks later to find out exactly what had happened. I was scared of him, but felt I had to go. Him and his flatmate, Quinn, reckoned that they just spoke to the three men who raped me, but they didn’t look convincing. In the light of day, they had sores and picked at their track marks. Vickerman had a terrible cough, but he wanted me to stay. They said they were getting heroin that night. I think they only let me leave because I said I’d return later that evening, but I didn’t bother.’

  ‘How did you know that Vickerman and Quinn had died if you don’t watch the news?’

  ‘I heard it on the car radio. But what could I do? Their deaths weren’t anything to do with me, and I didn’t believe their story about the others. I just wanted to keep my head down from then on.’

  Strange leaned back in her seat. ‘Can you remember what Quinn and Vickerman wore on the night they headed to Quantrill’s place all fired up?’

  ‘No, sorry. It was dark stuff, jeans probably. Dark baseball cap.’

  ‘Black baseball cap?’

  ‘I guess. It could have been dark blue.’

  Strange made some notes, then looked up. ‘Tell me about Hofstadt.’

  Ellen sank into her seat. She seemed more weary than upset.

  ‘I’d walked to Morrisons because I had some vouchers and fancied getting some fresh air. I got caught in heavy rain, so I took shelter in a phone booth. I saw Hofstadt looking out of the window of a carpet shop. We’d dated years beforehand, although he dumped me and vanished really abruptly. I didn’t know why at the time. He came outside shortly after, and I approached him because I wanted to understand the reasons. He shouted in my face that I’d told stories to the police and he’d finished up in prison. He said that I ruined his life, but I had nothing to do with it. I got annoyed as it wasn’t my fault, so I told him that perhaps I should have a word with the police.’

  ‘Did you know he was a sex offender?’

  ‘No, I read it online afterwards.’

  ‘Then what happened?’

  ‘He went crazy, started shoving me towards the traffic, saying I deserved to die. He’d always had a weak leg from a football injury and stumbled. I was pushing him away and, well, you saw how it ended up.’

  ‘And you still didn’t report the incident to the police?’ asked Barton.

  ‘I was going to, but when I heard about his criminal record, I thought screw him.’

  ‘And you hadn’t spoken to Hofstadt in years?’

  ‘No, I assumed he’d met someone else and chose to be with them.’

  ‘Your hair was blonde that night. Can you explain that?’

  ‘My hair’s fallen out. This is a black wig. Stress, I guess. I have a few wigs that I wear, and I try different colours.’

  Bar
ton felt another twinge of sympathy. He hadn’t been overjoyed when his own hair fell out. Nevertheless, the cynical part of him knew it was also a pretty convenient excuse to be in disguise.

  ‘What colour wigs do you have?’

  ‘Black, blonde and red.’

  Barton immediately thought of the telephone call from the drunk about that Saturday night. He claimed to have seen a flaming angel. It was probably Ellen, and it matched her story.

  ‘Can we have a look at your phone, please, Ellen?’

  ‘That won’t be possible because she’s misplaced it,’ interjected Lucy.

  ‘That’s okay. I can order phone records without the phone or a warrant. Then I’ll check her call history against that of the others involved, in particular those who suffered untimely deaths, to make sure this stacks up. We already have most of their records. In fact, Ellen can give us signed authority for hers now.’

  Barton didn’t need authorisation, but it was a sneaky way to check for compliancy. He examined the sisters’ faces for signs of worry, but neither sister’s body language displayed any emotion.

  ‘No problem,’ said Lucy. ‘We have nothing to hide, but my sister has been through enough for one day, don’t you think? That will be all she’ll say at this point. She needs to relax and take her medication.’

  Barton raised his eyebrows. Regardless, he had a lot to consider.

  ‘Interview terminated. Please give us a moment to consider things. I’ll be back shortly with the authorisation for your mobile records,’ he said.

  Barton left the room shaking his head. He’d heard plenty, but the lost phone was making him even more suspicious. The truth was in there somewhere, but how much of the rest was lies?

  67

  Acting DCI Barton

  Outside, Barton leaned against the wall with his head down. After a few moments, he looked across at a confused Strange.

  ‘I’m glad I’m only a sergeant,’ she said.