Barton could only see Jones’ eyes behind the mask, but they definitely rolled.
Tapper began. ‘The wife was in all afternoon. Her husband was late, but that wasn’t unusual. She was going out herself at 19:00. That’s when she found the body.’
‘What time of death did the pathologist give?’ asked Barton.
Tapper chuckled. ‘Our pathologist doesn’t like the rain. Not keen on most weather in fact, especially out of office hours. The doc who confirmed the death said he’d been dead hours.’
Tapper crouched and pointed at the neck wound.
‘As you can see by the puncture in the side here, he’s been stabbed by something very sharp. This, in fact.’ Tapper passed them an evidence bag containing a six inch spike with a wooden handle.
‘Is it an awl?’ asked Barton.
‘Correct. Garden variety leather or carpet tool. Looks well used. Highly unlikely we’ll get any prints off it as this looks professional. Professional thief, that is.’ He winked at Strange.
‘It’s a bit brutal for a thief, don’t you think?’ she replied. ‘He’s clearly been hit on the head as well.’
‘English thief, yes. Russian, Albanian, maybe not. We had one similar a few years back. This man has had a big gold ring and a full wallet taken, but his phone was left. It was in the inside jacket pocket, so maybe it was missed.’
‘Maybe they just took the other things to make it look like a robbery,’ said Strange.
‘That’s true. Everything is possible at this point.’
‘Wife not see or hear anything?’ she asked.
‘Heard the bin move about 17:00. They have a cat, she thought it was him. She looked out the window but it’s dark out here at night. She wouldn’t have been able to see the body from there. No other witnesses, no obvious evidence. You’ve seen the crowds on the way in. It’s the last big party night before the students go back for Christmas. Twenty thousand people could have done this.’
‘CCTV?’ she asked.
‘None on this street, some around. Unless he was walking around beforehand, holding the awl and grinning maniacally, he will be hard to spot.’
‘I agree it’s likely to be a him, especially because of the small amount of blood.’
Tapper’s eyes narrowed. ‘Go on.’
‘Neck wound like that would spurt blood. There aren’t any splatters. I’d say the awl was inserted and held there while the man died. He’d struggle, maybe take a few minutes to die. He’d be weak but still have to be pushed down, so a man or strong woman is likely. They may have knelt on him, so there could be fibres passed over. Whatever, it’s a cold, ruthless, unnecessary crime. He could have left him knocked out, or groggy at the least. Maybe it was personal as well as financial.’
‘Very good. That’s what we thought, although a hammer is less easy to hide, so maybe a cosh of some kind. The victim’s right hand has also been trodden on. That might have happened as he struggled for his life. The killer knew what he was doing, maybe ex-military but it could be anyone with how helpful Google is nowadays. It’s a gloomy unlit area with no CCTV. I would say the victim had been seen with the ring or the wallet earlier, maybe on a few occasions. His wife said he always carried plenty of cash as he disliked using cards. The people in this city and university are richer than ever, and that attracts predators. I don’t hold much hope, but we’ll jump through the hoops.’
Barton squatted. ‘Is that finger snapped?’
‘Yes. But his ring was on the other hand. Maybe he grabbed his attacker.’
‘Or maybe he did it just to hurt him,’ said Strange.
Tapper chuckled at her insight, genuinely pleased. ‘Excellent. I bet John here has you doing all the work. Tim, anything to add?’
The CSM pulled his mask down, revealing a large smile. ‘Nope, we’re just going to move the body, but that’s it, folks. Good work from all of you. It’s funny, because he was just saying you Peterborough lot couldn’t find a fox in a chicken coop.’
They stepped outside with Tapper.
‘I was expecting the Vice-Chancellor or someone similar from the university to be causing trouble.’
‘He’s inside comforting the widow. He’s okay actually, but you’ll love the wife. She’s a right piece of work. No laughing when you notice the age gap. Her name’s Charlie.’
13
The Soul Killer
The Golden Pheasant is heaving. I don’t mind meeting Claudia even though I’m tired, because I wanted an alibi, just in case. Although, if they connect me to the murder, I suspect an alibi won’t cut it. Never mind. I’m pretty sure I’ll get away with it. Claudia’s also been hard to pin down of late. Work are taking advantage of her at the moment. Perhaps I should have a word. What I do regret doing is booking this place.
It’s a been a busy stressful day. It was only forty miles to cycle to Cambridge each way, but it was cold and the wind was in my face on the way back. Even though I often cycle much further nowadays as it’s kinder to the knees than running, the last few miles were hard. I can barely keep my face out of my overpriced soup.
Claudia’s grinning at the guy next to her. Turns out they work for the same company. How sweet. His table is so close, we might as well be eating together. He’s grinning at me now. I bet he wouldn’t be doing that if he knew what I’d been up to a few hours ago. Still, I return his friendly gesture. If he’s talking to her it means that I don’t have to. I love being with Claudia, but she does waffle on about that job of hers. It also gives me time to think about my actions.
The lecturer itch wouldn’t go away. Now I’ve found the woman of my dreams, it seemed my brain wanted something else to focus on. If I’m honest with myself, I was a little bored, even though Claudia is amazing.
I watch the waiter respond to her huge smile as he places her plate on the table. He loves her, too. I see other men watching her laugh, and know they want to be me. But I have her. They wonder what I’ve got, why she chose me, and wish they were as lucky. Well, she’s fortunate too.
She’s chosen pasta for the main course. I should have suggested the salmon instead. It’s my own fault, I should have ordered for both of us. I’ll say I have a bit of a headache so we skip dessert.
It was my third trip to Cambridge today. I went on the train the other times. It was easy to find him because he still worked at the same university. I hesitated as to what to do. After following him home, it was pretty clear he had regular routines. It was money that made me act as I did. Claudia and I deserve the best, but it’s not cheap. I don’t make good money. The wallet had nearly two hundred pounds in it, and it looks a nice ring. He owed me after what he’d done.
I thought about it as I cycled. My job is important to me but I deserve to be paid more money. Not everyone could do what I do. It’s a disgrace. Those who help people get shafted while those who help themselves get rewarded. It’s time I was rewarded.
I didn’t plan to kill him, just a blow on the back of the head with a stone. That and robbing him would have been ample payback. Seeing Charlie looking through the window was a real shock. It’s been a long time since my pulse raced that fast. Probably not since my mother’s little trip.
So, I realised Charlie and her lover ended up together. I’d taken the awl for protection. Not from him, of course, just in case I was disturbed by the university wrestling team or others who might have slowed me down. An awl’s a deadly weapon but fairly explainable if caught. I crouched there for a few moments wondering if she’d ring the police. When he groaned, I shut him up by sliding it inside his neck.
I hope she’s devastated, although, knowing her, she probably has the life-cover documents out already. It still grates that she treated me as she did, but the heat will be on. It’s best I stay well clear.
‘You’re quiet tonight,’ says Claudia.
‘Yes, I’ve got a bit of a migraine.’
‘Oh, you should have said. Do you want to go?’
‘No, it’s okay. Finish a little bit
more of your pasta, then we’ll make a move.’
We still have plans tonight. I intend to up the ante a little on the sex front. Not that it’s rubbish, just a bit samey. I thought a bit of role playing would be fun. Handcuffs, naturally. Maybe even a blindfold or some gentle choking.
14
DI Barton
Barton and Zander had to bend quite low to get through the door of the old building. When they straightened up, both of their heads touched the ceiling. There was a lightshade between them. They stepped down to a comfortable lounge. All the furniture had a worn but expensive appearance to it. Oak sideboards sat on either side of the room. There were few pictures – none of them were of children.
The Vice-Chancellor hurried to greet him and gave them a robust handshake each. He had a similar jacket to the corpse outside.
‘Terrible business. Vincent had been with us for over twenty years. Awful shock, Inspector. Glad you could come. I’m sure you’ll do your best. Anything you need, please get in touch with my secretary. Must dash. Gala ball.’
Barton watched him leave at a canter. His focus returned to meet the steel eyes of a woman who wasn’t much over thirty. His instant analysis was ex-student. The dead guy outside was pushing sixty. Her answers would be interesting but she wouldn’t have done it herself, and only a fool hired someone to kill their husband.
She stood as he approached but didn’t offer her hand.
‘Am I a suspect, Inspector?’
‘Of course.’
‘Sorry to disappoint. I can’t say it’s a complete devastation, but I did still love him. To be honest, I loved the ring that got stolen more. It was a family heirloom, priceless.’
‘Priceless, or priceless to your family?’
‘Five grand, tops. Priceless to me. It was my father’s.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Ask your questions, please. I’m going to the ball, too. I have an award to present.’
Barton disliked few people. He found it unhelpful to form emotional opinions of those he was trying to help. Besides, this act would most likely be a coping mechanism. She might even seem fine with others later, but the tears would eventually fall. This night would haunt the rest of her life. Completely heartless people were rare.
‘I think they’ll understand.’
Her eyes wandered to the door. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Charlie, isn’t it? Please take a seat. I understand the sergeant has taken a statement. Is there anything you’d like to add now you’ve had time to process what’s happened?’
She shook her head and blinked back tears.
‘If we’re going to catch him, it’s more likely we’re going to do it in the next few days than at a later date. Anything might be important.’
She opened her handbag and removed a packet of Sobranie cigarettes. She had expensive tastes. After lighting, she blew a thin stream of smoke towards him. Her shoulders hunched and shook for a few seconds, but she kept eye contact.
‘He hated me smoking inside. Vincent wasn’t a particularly good man, and neither am I a good woman. I agreed to stop drinking five years ago, if he agreed to stop shagging the students. We’ve been reasonably happy since. I can’t think of anyone who would want to kill him. He doesn’t inspire that much emotion in people, well, not any more. It looks like a brutal robbery to me.’
‘How long have you been married?’
‘I came to university here and never left. A detective should be able to work out what happened. I’ve given a detailed statement to your sergeant and don’t feel like repeating it.’
‘I thought there are rules on tutors dating their students?’
‘There are now.’
‘Is there anything we can do for you?’
Charlie put the cigarette out, and then crumpled in on herself. Strange sat next to her and put an arm around her shoulders. Barton stepped out of the room and found Tapper pacing in the small courtyard. The body was gone.
‘I take it the neighbours’ doors have been knocked on.’
‘Of course. It’s all in hand. These brutal crimes are starting to get the better of me. Modern criminals are so cold and ruthless, it chills me to the bone. I think my days are numbered.’
‘Really, retire?’
‘Do you remember my quote?’
‘Too much death will kill you?’
‘That’s right. Maybe it’s time. You remember that desk sergeant, Cobbler? He’s started a company advising on security. They’re doing well and expanding. I’m thinking about it. He always rated you, so there might be an opening up your way.’
Barton heard things like this all the time. Eventually the job chewed you up and you got out. He didn’t think he was there yet, but each person leaving left him feeling more and more melancholy. New officers joined, but it wasn’t the same. He considered what had happened this evening and involuntarily shivered.
‘I’m glad you’re keeping this one,’ Barton said.
Tapper grimaced. Neither added anything, but they both knew that whoever did this would kill again.
15
The Soul Killer
Christmas Eve
For the six months following her father’s Boxing Day party, my relationship with Claudia remained strong, but her dad began to get in the way. I put everything I had into making her happy, including all my money. We enjoyed trips abroad and weekend breaks whenever we found free time in our schedules. I hoped to buy a bigger place, but it was tough making sure Claudia had a good time as well as saving for a deposit. I suggested we rent together, but she wanted no upheaval while her dad fought with cancer.
Claudia proved to be one of those women who insisted on maintaining closeness with her friends, too. She’d forgotten them as a teenager in the first throes of young love, and when that relationship had ended, she’d struggled to reconnect with them. I used to tell her not to worry; we wouldn’t split up, but she replied that the future is never set in stone.
I steered clear of her family as much as possible. At one point, Claudia considered moving back in with her father. Luckily, the proud old fart saved me from that by insisting that his children would never become his carers. Occasionally, their close circle of friends and family, partners included, met for a meal and Claudia expected me to attend. Sometimes I blagged it and invented a nasty car accident at work, saying I couldn’t just leave. Other times, she’d get her diary out and nail me to a date.
Some of their friends enjoyed running, so I’d focus on that. I would sit and smile, comment on the food, and look forward to the evening finishing. I struggled to connect with her sister. All I could fixate on was her judgemental stares from before. After those social occasions, I encouraged Claudia to stay at mine. Her closeness reassured me that I had passed the test again. I also preferred knowing where she was – reassuringly safe at home with me. Her father’s illness distracted her though, and she often returned with him.
My strange upbringing prevented me from fully understanding her situation. However, my work involves dealing with people as they struggle with bad luck. There are no specific answers. What they need to know is that you’re supporting them. Claudia made the mistake of trying to push me away. Facing it together as a team should have been the way forward.
In her defence, she was working long hours at the same time. She hoped to make partner at her law firm. But something had to give, and the time between our dates gradually lengthened. Free time became my enemy, and I thought too much. We drifted apart. Books in the library or articles online offered inconsistent advice. I talked it through with a colleague when we visited the outdoor swimming pool together in the summer, and he suggested splitting up until her dad either recovered or died.
I didn’t say so, but I assumed he was mad. I’d never give up on us, or her. The vague information Claudia shared on her father’s condition meant his chances were slim. I would be there when he died. However, as he sickened, so did our relationship. In a way, he and I pulled her in di
fferent directions. I’m not a stupid man. I can read people’s thoughts.
The day before Christmas, I took her ten pin bowling. Claudia hadn’t wanted to play, but she needed distracting. I pumped my fist as all the pins went down. She gazed into the distance while on the phone and ignored my high five. After leaping to her feet, she removed her bowling shoes and hauled on her coat.
‘Dad’s had a fall.’
I turned and stared at the score board; so close to my highest score. The worry came off her in waves as we got in the car and pulled away. It was the first time she’d ever encouraged me to drive faster. As I undertook a slow moving caravan, a sliver of me wished him ill. I pushed it away and put my foot down on the accelerator.
When we arrived at her father’s house, we found him lying at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Dad, are you okay?’
She sprinted over and helped him sit.
‘Yes, I’m fine. I slipped and didn’t have the strength to get to my feet. My arm feels very tender.’
‘I’m ringing for an ambulance.’
‘No, don’t worry. Help me up. A cup of tea and some rest should do the trick.’
I stepped forward and he shoved out his supposed bad arm to stop me approaching.
‘Just Claudia will be fine.’
‘Dad, you don’t have to be brave.’
‘As long as you’re here, I need not be.’
I looked away to hide my disgust. She didn’t realise he was manipulating her. A few awkward moments dragged by before she uttered the words I’d come to hate.
‘You go. I’ll sort things out here.’
‘Shall I pick you up later?’
‘No, no.’ Dark bags hung under her eyes. ‘I’ll ring you.’
The old man wasn’t as quick at hiding his emotions as I was and I detected a definite pleased sneer. I stood there woodenly for a moment, floundering for words.
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