by Helen Phifer
Lucy picked up the phone and rang Amanda. She answered immediately.
‘Is Toby there?’
‘It’s all about the new boy! I told you, he’s too young for you, Lucy. No, he’s not – he rang in sick.’
Lucy cupped her hand over the phone and mouthed, ‘He’s rung in sick.’
Mattie arched an eyebrow at her.
Amanda continued. ‘Why do you want him? Can I not help you?’
‘No, it’s okay, thanks. I’ll catch up with him later. I hope he’s okay – did he say what’s wrong?’
‘Apparently he’s got a bug. I didn’t answer; it was Jack who spoke to him.’
‘Thanks.’
Lucy put down the phone. ‘Now what?’
‘Browning and I will pay him a welfare visit, make sure he’s okay and doesn’t need anything. Then we’ll bring his arse in for questioning.’
‘I don’t know about this… it might be too dangerous.’
‘Well, then you’ll have to run it by your favourite boss, who will then run it by headquarters. Who will then spend the next six hours assembling a team to go in and get him. Or you could go with the simple option: the two of us can go and knock on his door. He might not even be there – who’s to say that he hasn’t left the country after he paid you a visit last night? He could be on the other side of the world by now, because that’s where I’d be if it was me.’
Browning nodded. ‘There’s also a chance that it’s not him and he’s tucked up in bed with a sick bowl, so it might not even be dangerous.’
She was torn. If they did it the official way it would take hours. Patrick would take command and they would lose momentum. She didn’t want to put Mattie and Browning in any danger, though; she’d never forgive herself if anything happened to either of them.
‘I don’t want Patrick taking over, but I don’t want either of you putting yourself at risk.’
‘Look, Lucy, I’m not being funny but we’re both big boys. We have the element of surprise – Toby won’t be expecting us to come calling. I can pretty much guarantee he’ll come without a fight. If it is him, he killed two women who were both under the influence of alcohol. He shot an entire family in the night – he crept up on the dad from behind and got the others whilst they were asleep. He might be one sick fuck, but he’s not confrontational. He was alone with you in your house; if he’d wanted to hurt you he could have, but he didn’t.’
Browning nodded. ‘He’s right, boss.’
‘You wear your body armour and if there’s any remote chance of it all going horribly wrong you hit your red buttons. I’ll come with you.’
Mattie shook his head. ‘Absolutely not; you’re a liability. He seems to like you – if you’re there and he was to get the upper hand there’s no telling what he’d do.’
Her stomach was churning so hard it felt as if it were about to somersault into next week. Mattie was right: they’d been on arrest enquiries hundreds of times and they both knew how to handle themselves.
Browning sat down opposite her. ‘I’ll make sure the golden boy is safe. If I think it’s too dangerous I’ll pull back and we’ll let the boss man take over. All we’re going to do is go to his house and pay him a visit. He came to yours; we’re just repaying the favour. We can tell him you’ve asked us to come get him because you need to speak to him. It will work like a charm, trust me.’
She nodded. ‘Any sign of danger, you pull out and call for back-up.’
They both spoke in unison. ‘Yes, boss.’
Chapter Forty-Nine
Mattie and Browning walked out of the imaging unit and down to the locker rooms to retrieve their stab vests. Lucy knew they were doing it for show, to please her. The reality was that neither would probably wear them. She walked past Tom’s empty office and wondered where the hell Patrick was now. Even if she’d decided to run the theory by him, he wasn’t here to listen to her. He was useless.
She went to find Col, giving him the list of the historic killers and their victims, and asked him to find out anything he could about them. He looked at her quizzically and she whispered, ‘Keep this between you, me, Mattie and Browning for now. If you can find anything that ties our victims together – similarities, the slightest thing, no matter how trivial – let me know. Please, it’s really important.’
Her palms damp and her heart racing, she realised she should have insisted on going with Mattie and Browning; she was never going to settle waiting here. Returning to her office, she logged onto the computer to see what updates there were about the body in the woods. She was livid to see that there were very few comments on the digital case that was running. Picking up her phone, she dialled the number for Dr Corkill at the university to see what the hold-up was. He answered sounding flustered.
‘Hello?’
‘Chris, its DI Harwin.’
‘Lucy, how are you? It’s great to hear from you; I’ve been trying to get hold of your partner DI Baker for a couple of days now. He hasn’t returned any of my calls – is he off work?’
She felt the hackles on the back of her neck rise. ‘No, he isn’t, he’s swanning around here somewhere doing sod all. I’m sorry, Chris – I should have phoned you myself.’
‘Don’t you be sorry – it’s nothing to do with you. I just wanted to let him know about something I found in my research. It’s probably nothing, but it’s worth mentioning.’
‘Would you mind telling me? I think I’m going to take over the case from him. You see, he’s just been given a temporary promotion, so he’ll be even less inclined to bother with any follow-ups.’
‘Of course not. I suppose that explains him not returning my calls.’
Lucy swore under her breath. No it fucking doesn’t; he’s just useless.
‘Have you heard of the Carnival Queen Killer?’
She paused for a moment. ‘Yes, it rings a bell. That was a very long time ago though, wasn’t it?’
‘Oh God, yes. It was back in the early eighties. A man named John Carter murdered three young women who had been crowned carnival queens. One of the victims’ bodies was found strangled and naked just a few yards from where this skeleton was uncovered.’
Lucy could feel the cogs in her head start to whir as they began sorting all the information that she had stored in there into the right order. ‘Do you know what happened to him? Did he get released?’
‘No, he died of cancer in prison after being incarcerated for a few years.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame.’
‘I know, it would have been great in a terrible way if he’d served his time and been let out. At least you would have had a name to go on. I don’t know if any of this is any help to you, but it’s definitely interesting.’
‘Yes, it is. Thank you. Are we any nearer to identifying the body?’
‘Well, as I told Patrick, she was definitely female. A rough estimate for her age would be between twelve and twenty years old. I believe the forensic odontologist is an old university friend of Dr Maxwell, so she might have an ID a lot quicker than usual if she’s called in a favour.’
Lucy felt her heart soar at this news – finally, something good. This put Jenny Burns back in the picture once more.
‘Once again, I can’t thank you enough, Chris.’
‘It’s my pleasure, Lucy, Your department makes my rather dull life really quite exciting at times.’
She laughed as she ended the call, then slammed the palms of her hands against her desk. When she got hold of Patrick she was going to strangle him with her bare hands. There was no excuse for the level of incompetence he was showing. She’d never up till now had a reason to report any of her colleagues to the professional standards department. She always preferred to tackle any issues herself, but this had gone too far. He hadn’t shared vital information or followed up on leads that could have put Jenny Burns’ family out of the misery they’d been in for over twenty-five years. It was inexcusable and she wouldn’t let him get away with it.
S
he looked up the address for Jenny Burns’ parents and hoped that they still lived there. Killers normally carried out their first crime quite close to home and something along the lines of eighty per cent of murder victims knew their killers. So where did this lead them? She could feel the answer in there; the information was floating around in the murky grey area of her brain. She just needed to grab hold of it and draw it out. She headed out of the office and down to the car park. Mattie and Browning had taken a plain car; Patrick must have taken another. She wasn’t going to mess around so she walked to her Fiat; she would go and visit Jenny’s dad. He might be able to shed some light on the mess inside her head.
Chapter Fifty
Mattie jumped out of the car. ‘You wait here – I’m just going to have a look around.’
Browning let him go; he was much fitter and faster than him. He sat there gripping his radio in his hand, ready to shout for back-up if the golden boy so much as jumped at his own shadow. Lucy would kill him if he let anything happen to Mattie. It was so obvious how the pair of them felt about each other; when this was all over he might have to put his matchmaking skills to the test and get them to admit it.
Mattie disappeared from his sight and he was about to get out of the car when he reappeared, shaking his head. He came back to the car and got inside.
‘There’s no sign of life. The kitchen is clean. No dirty pots lying around and there’s no one in the front room. There’s no car in the garage either. What should we do?’
Browning climbed out of the car. ‘I guess we’ll have to knock on the door.’
He strode across the street and walked up the leafy path to the front door, hammered on it and stepped back. Mattie caught up with him.
‘Wow, I like that. So nice and discreet, just like Lucy said to be.’
Browning looked at him. ‘Are you turning soft on me?’
Mattie gave him the finger. He leant forwards, pressing his ear against the door. There were no noises whatsoever coming from inside.
‘No one’s home. Now what do we do?’
‘We wait for him to come back.’
They returned to the car, where Mattie phoned Lucy to tell her the bad news.
Lucy arrived at the address they had on file for Jenny Burns, not really expecting her parents to still live there after so long. If the officer on scene guard at the woods had taken his details when she’d asked him to it could have saved them precious time. She opened the rusted gate and walked up the overgrown path. She was about to knock on the door when her phone rang.
Catherine Maxwell’s voice echoed in her ear. ‘We have a positive ID on the body from the woods.’
Lucy stepped back from the front door and whispered, ‘Is it Jenny Burns, by any chance?’
‘Yes, how did you know?’
‘Chris said it was a female aged between twelve and twenty – it’s not exactly rocket science. There were no other females of that age reported missing around that time.’
‘At least she can have a proper funeral now and her family will get the chance to say goodbye. Does she still have family?’
‘Yes, her dad turned up at the scene demanding to know if we’d found his daughter. Twenty-six years he’s been wondering what the hell happened to his girl.’
‘That’s a long time to nurse a broken heart. At least you can give him some answers now, Lucy. Good luck.’
She ended the call and walked back towards the front door, when it suddenly opened. The man from the woods seemed older than she remembered. He took one look at her and his shoulders sagged, along with his head. His eyes glistened and his voice broke as he tried to speak. Lucy stepped forward with a heavy heart, nodding her head. He crumpled before her eyes and she stepped inside the doorway to his house, which smelt of lavender furniture polish. She wrapped her arms around him and held him while he sobbed into her shoulder.
They stayed that way for a few minutes until he let go of her and tottered backwards. Wiping his eyes with his sleeve, he stepped to one side to let her in. She closed the front door behind her and followed him into the kitchen, where he pointed to a pine chair. She pulled it out and sat down; he slumped into a seat opposite her.
‘All this time. She’s been there all this time.’
‘I’m so sorry. We’ve only just had positive confirmation from the forensic odontologist that it’s Jenny.’
‘I walked those woods every day – how did I not know my baby girl was lying dead? She was there the whole time underneath my feet, in a grave.’
‘You weren’t to know, Mr Burns; it’s such a huge area. Searching techniques weren’t as advanced when Jenny went missing compared to now.’
He shook his head. ‘Some bastard took my girl. They hurt her and then they put her in a hole in the ground like she was someone’s dead dog.’
‘I know you’ve been asked questions many times before, but not by me. I want to find your daughter’s killer and believe me when I say that I will. I won’t stop until I have whoever it is behind bars.’
He looked at her, really studying her face for several moments. Then he nodded his head. ‘I believe you.’
‘Good, you should. Now can you tell me again exactly what happened that day?’
Chapter Fifty-One
He wasn’t sure what to do now; things were coming to a head and he felt a little bit hot under the collar. It was only a matter of hours before the police came looking for him. He was sure of it. Driving back towards his house, he realised that it was now or never. He had to kill Waite, put him in the drum full of acid, then get the hell out of town. There was no way he was making it easy for Lucy and letting her catch him; he’d decided that he liked his freedom far too much. He wasn’t cut out to live a life behind bars, having to look over his shoulder every minute of every day, afraid to bend over every time he needed a shower. No way, it wasn’t happening.
He wasn’t going to kill himself, either; that wasn’t even a possibility. There was no way he would end his own life. His back-up plan was to get as far away from here as possible and leave them all running around wondering what on earth had just happened. It didn’t matter if they searched the country far and wide for him; he had a place to go and a false identity all ready. He would shave his hair, use the coloured contact lenses he bought ages ago, and dress down. He parked on the street and walked up his drive; he didn’t want to alert the druggie that he was home. That was if he hadn’t already done a runner and stolen what little he had out on show. Somehow he didn’t think that he would have left, though; it was far too comfortable in his house with its hot running water, plentiful food and alcohol.
He let himself in and kicked off his shoes – he needed to change. He couldn’t kill in this suit; it wouldn’t allow him any room for movement. He went upstairs where he listened at the guest room door; the television was on and MTV was playing. This was a good sign. Going into the spare room where he kept the clothes for all his murders, he began to get changed. The carpet in here was relatively new so he had thought twice about ripping it out and going back to bare floorboards, as he’d done for the rest of the house.
Once he had on his tight Lycra running leggings and top, he went downstairs to the garage, lifting the door open so the fumes wouldn’t overpower him. Stepping into a pair of protective overalls, he tied a scarf around his mouth and nose. Then, pulling on a pair of heavy-duty gloves, he tugged the lid off the drum. He unscrewed the lid of the plastic container of acid, picked it up and carefully tipped it over the edge of the drum. It began to glug as he poured it slowly into the metal container. He looked at the stack of plastic acid containers lined up behind him – this wasn’t what he’d expected to do but he had little choice now. His hand had been forced; he had to have it all ready.
Lucy placed the mug of sweet tea in front of Jenny’s dad, Malcolm, who’d insisted that she call him Mal. She sat back down and waited for him to take a few sips before continuing with her questions. There was no rush; her phone hadn’t rung or beeped w
ith any messages from Mattie or Browning. For now they were safe, sitting tight watching Toby’s house.
‘Can you tell me about Jenny’s last movements on that day, before you reported her missing, Mal?’
He nodded. ‘It was a hot summer – she’d spent the last few days hanging around with her brother Jake and his friend who had a large paddling pool. I’ve no doubt about it that she probably drove the pair of them mad, but Jake was a good lad. I told him he had to look out for her and he did.’
She smiled at him, encouraging him to continue.
‘She went to the shop. I can’t even remember what it was for. Probably a ten-pence bag – she would eat sweets all day and night if you let her.’
‘Did anyone speak to her at the shop? Do you know whom the police spoke to afterwards?’
‘Well, there was the shopkeeper, Bill. He said he served her and that she didn’t say much to him except for please and thank you. Her manners were always impeccable. She also had a brief conversation with Jake’s friend. Then she left and went to the woods. Nobody saw her ever again.’
His body began to shake as he let out a loud sob.
Alarm bells were ringing in Lucy’s head. To her mind, there were three suspects, possibly two. She’d read the original report. Malcolm had been called home from work when Jenny hadn’t turned up for her tea; his alibi was concrete. There were many co-workers who had vouched for him being there until he’d been called into the office by the supervisor. The shopkeeper had also been interviewed, but he hadn’t left the shop all afternoon until his wife came to take over from him at six o’clock. By that time Jenny hadn’t been seen for a couple of hours. So that left Jake and his friend.
‘I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Mal, but what was Jake and Jenny’s relationship like? Did he resent her because you’d told him he had to look out for her?’