The weather had been cold and Evans had stayed in for her lunch of home-made tuna sandwiches, nipping out on her own for a cigarette. Evans had been described by everyone interviewed as her usual cheerful self, looking forward to Christmas. Nobody could recall her mentioning any worries or strange people that shed met.
The shop closed at five-thirty and Evans had helped lock up, before exiting via the back door at her usual time, ready to get picked up by her boyfriend, Darren Blackheath.
Warren rubbed his eyes, his hopes of an easy collar slowly fading. He still believed that killings by a total stranger were very rare; however, if Evans and her killer had crossed paths, he didnt seem to be in her immediate circle of acquaintances.
He said as much to the team.
OK, lets start to shake the trees a little harder. He turned to Gary Hastings. Use the PNC and HOLMES to see what we can find out about all of her acquaintances. Lets also scan a list of recent customers and see if anybody interesting turns up. He turned to Karen Hardwick. You built a pretty good rapport with her friend Cheryl. She mentioned past boyfriends. See if you can get a list of friends try and get as many as possible, right back to university if you can. Well chuck them all in the pot and see what comes out.
He turned to DS Khan.
Mo, can you continue co-ordinating the house-to-house enquiries with the neighbours? Make sure the evening shift pick up those who were out earlier in the day.
With the jobs assigned, Warren glanced at his watch: ten to three. Im due a briefing on the autopsy in a few minutes. Keep feeding back to the incident desk and well meet again tomorrow morning eight a.m.
The room emptied quickly, everyone eager to complete their given tasks, hoping to be the one that found the vital link. Human nature, mused Warren, just as its human nature to lose energy and become frustrated as time wears on with no new leads. They were less than twenty-four hours in and already Warren had a bad feeling about the case. If it was a true stranger murder then they were probably in for the long haul. And it would be up to him to keep his team engaged and focused all that time.
Chapter 7
Warren had never been a big fan of autopsies. Some of his colleagues were happy to go into the morgue and see firsthand with their own eyes the clues teased out by the pathologist. Warren privately accused them of having a lack of imagination and a touch of voyeurism. He had no problem visualising everything he needed in his minds eye using a few colour photographs and a well-written report. He could see nothing to be gained by looking at the corpse on a table. Truth be told, he wouldnt know what he was looking for. Far better that a practised expert describe what he was observing.
The expert today was Professor Ryan Jordan, a fifty-something, American-born, Home Office Certified pathologist, and he was happy to meet with Warren at Middlesbury CID rather than calling Warren down to look at the body in the morgue.
He read from his notes.
The body is that of a Caucasian woman, mid-twenties. One hundred sixty-one centimetres tall, weighing sixty-four kilogrammes. Average build, with no distinguishing scars or body decoration. Medically, she appeared to be of average to below average fitness, with limited muscular development and lungs consistent with that of a pack-per-day smoker of about ten years; some evidence of early cardiovascular disease. Her liver was again consistent with somebody who drank more than she should, showing early signs of inflammation. It is my opinion, however, that none of these conditions contributed to her death. He glanced up. Give it a few more years and I reckon shed have had a hard time climbing the stairs though. You see a lot of young women like this in the UK. Its a ticking time bomb and I dont see how the NHS will cope.
Warren nodded politely, not really interested in the Americans opinions on Britains binge-drinking and smoking culture. How did she die, then, do you think? he asked, steering the conversation back to the matter in hand.
Its largely as Andy Harrison guessed at the scene. She was killed Friday evening, judging from her stomach contents, which are consistent with a tuna sandwich and a banana eaten at about one p.m. Cause of death was strangulation with her scarf. Prior to death she underwent very rough intercourse, probably penile. Bruising confirms that she was alive; however, we can find no signs of any struggle, suggesting that she was either compliant or unconscious.
Warren raised a sceptical eyebrow and Jordan raised his hands in surrender. Im just saying it as I see it, Chief. Or, more importantly, how the defence will try and portray it. Consensual sex gone wrong.
So we have no evidence of rape.
I wouldnt say that. He pushed a photograph across the table.
Look how smeared her make-up is. Assuming its the same lipstick that she had in her handbag, its waterproof and long-lasting. It shouldnt really smear like that. Unless it was dissolved in solvent.
Warren was one step ahead. Youre suggesting that she was subdued by some sort of solvent, like chloroform, which smeared her make-up? Thats a bit Agatha Christie, isnt it?
Again, the American pathologist raised his hands. As I said before, I say it as I see it. Weve sent off for blood toxicology reports to see if she was sedated, but theyll be a few weeks. There is no evidence of irritation to her respiratory passages, which rules out some solvents, but not chloroform.
What else have you got?
Not a lot really, although that in itself may be interesting. We can hardly find any trace evidence from the attacker.
So he wore a condom?
More than that, I would say. With this sort of rough penetration, I would expect some genital-to-genital contact. It would be hard to avoid. Weve looked under the microscope and combed her pubic area, but we havent found a single alien pubic hair, or skin flake. The only thing weve found are traces of lubricant, consistent with that used on pretty much all of the major brands of condom, some tiny chemical traces that the mass-spec machine suggest is dry latex powder, and a commercial adhesive, usually found on rolls of sticky-tape.
I thought dry latex powder was discouraged in condoms because it causes allergies?
It is, but you can still find it in some cheap rubber gloves. If I were a betting man, I would suggest that our killer wore a couple of condoms at least, in case of accidents, has a shaved pubic area and used a cut-up rubber glove and sticky tape to ensure that he left no trace where he made contact with her.
Warren winced. This was a sick person and, it would seem, clever and well prepared.
Anything else on her?
We have found some fine powder on her coat that seems to come from brown cardboard and a couple of fibres that may or may not be significant. Well look at the database and see if the fibres are interesting.
She spent the day unpacking cardboard boxes, offered Warren.
That could account for the cardboard powder, mused Jordan.
Was she murdered and raped in situ? asked Warren.
It looks that way. Skin lividity indicates that she died in that position and wasnt moved post-mortem gravity pooled her blood just the way wed expect. Her coat has two muddy patches that line up with indentations on the forest floor, suggesting that he knelt on her coat as he penetrated her. As I said before, the bruising indicates that she was alive at the time, but probably unconscious or compliant. I couldnt say whether she died during or after the rape. Hopefully the toxicology tests will show that she was unconscious throughout.
Warren nodded soberly. It was a small mercy, but hed take it, he decided.
Chapter 8
Next stop for Warren was the office of Detective Superinten Grayson to discuss their plans for the upcoming press conference. As always, Grayson had his dress uniform hanging on the back of his office door and Warren knew that he wouldnt miss an opportunity to wear it in front of the cameras. Looking closely, Warren thought the mans jowls seemed suspiciously shiny and his hair seemed even smarter than normal. The buggers had time for a bloody shave and haircut, Warren realised. For a second, he felt self-conscious he hadnt had a haircut for over a month and his early morning shave was some hours behind him but then he shrugged mentally. If past form was anything to go by, he would barely say a word anyway and would almost certainly be edited out of the bulletin that was broadcast. He was only there because he was the named officer in charge of the investigation. One or two of his answers to more technical questions might be quoted in the broadsheets, space permitting.
The press conference would be a fairly formal, by-the-book affair. Since the family had informed everyone that needed to know about Sallys fate, she would be named and her parents would both be present to make a plea for information. It had been decided that details of her death would be kept to a minimum to stop cranks and lunatics from wasting the polices time with seemingly plausible stories full of authentic detail. No mention would be made of the rape. At the end of the conference, Detective Superintendent Grayson would attempt to remind young women about being vigilant at night without sounding overly alarmist.
The conference was scheduled for six p.m. Just early enough for the editors of the six-thirty local news to squeeze it into the end of their bulletin. Depending on what else was happening in the world, the story might make it onto the seven p.m. national broadcasts. It was a definite for the late-night news and the next days papers.
Grayson had ordered a police car to take them down to the main headquarters at Welwyn and they had a few minutes to spare. Truth be told, Warren would far rather have driven himself. It might not be strictly legal, but Grayson had enough pull for the police driver to put the lights and siren on. Previous jaunts down the A1(M) with the detective superintendent had left Warren feeling decidedly shaken. Lights or no lights, one hundred miles per hour plus in rush-hour traffic was far outside Warrens comfort zone and it was all he could do to stop his feet trying to stomp on an imaginary brake pedal. Grayson usually read the newspaper or fiddled with his BlackBerry smartphone.
As Grayson used his mirror to check his appearance Warren enjoyed the last few mouthfuls of his coffee. One benefit of being called to the bosss office was his expensive filter-coffee machine and selection of fine roasts.
Ive got a bad feeling about this one, Warren, mused Grayson.
Warren was forced to agree. Its looking more and more like a stranger killing. That immediately rules out half of our usual lines of investigation.
Worse, it increases the chance of him striking again.
Again, Warren had to concur. Most murders had a reason, the victim or victims killed for a purpose or as a consequence of an event. That reason might not be fathomable to normal-minded people, but it did mean that the murders were limited. Once the perceived slight had been avenged or the goal accomplished, the killings stopped. With a stranger killing that might not be the case; the act of killing might be the reason and didnt necessarily lead to a resolution for the killer.
As he returned his empty mug to its saucer and grabbed his coat off the chair back Warren felt a heavy weight settle onto his shoulders. A slight ache started in his stomach. They were signs hed grown to understand this case was going to be a nasty one.
Chapter 9
Warren and Grayson survived the headlong dash along the motorway and were soon in the room Herts and Beds used for major press conferences. An announcement earlier in the day about the finding of the body ensured that the room was pretty much full.
The aim of the conference was to formally identify the victim as Sally Evans and to appeal for help from the public, although as usual the press had managed to identify and name Evans some hours before. Mercifully her family and key friends had been notified before the press spilled the beans, but Warren always worried that one day some over-eager journalist was going to cause a lot of distress by breaking such news on air.
Key to the conference would be the presence of Sally Evans parents and her best friend, Cheryl. Between them, they would deliver a carefully written direct plea to the murderer or those that might know him to search their consciences and contact the police. Darren Blackheath was too upset to attend the conference or maybe he was avoiding Sallys father. There was definitely more to that story, Warren mused. Hovering in the background were the forces press officer and a trio of family liaison officers, there to support the victims family and friends during the coming months.
Sally Evans parents had insisted on delivering a direct appeal to the public for information but after Bill Evans and then his wife choked up it fell to Cheryl Davenport to finish reading out the moving tribute to the murdered woman. Although it saddened him, Warren knew that the added drama had probably bought them a few extra seconds on the news and a couple of extra lines in the newspaper, which could only be a good thing. The press briefing packs included an uncropped version of the main picture that they were using, with Sally and Cheryl both laughing at the camera. No doubt at least one picture editor would use this to emphasise the human tragedy.
As hed predicted, Warren had been introduced then promptly forgotten about. This early on in the investigation, he had little to offer the press and so a well-groomed John Grayson had answered the few perfunctory questions.
Finally, barely two hours after leaving Middlesbury, the two officers were back at the station. Grayson didnt even enter the lobby, practically stepping from the back seat of the police car into the drivers seat of his Mercedes, muttering something about his golf clubs awards ceremony. He left with a squeak of tyres and not so much as a backward glance. Warren sighed and glanced at his watch. Ten past seven. Turning, he headed back inside.
Chapter 10
Warren had barely taken his coat off, when an excited Gary Hastings appeared at his door. He waved him in.
Got something interesting for you, sir. I was checking out Bill Evans alibi like you said and it seems that he wasnt in Leeds the night of the murder. Better still, he hasnt been up there for months. And a check of the PNC shows that he has previous convictions.
* * *
Fifteen minutes after Hastings shock discovery, Warren called a short briefing in his office.
The team decided to bring in Evans for formal questioning. Why had Evans lied about his whereabouts on the night of his daughters disappearance? Was her upcoming marriage to a man he clearly disliked enough for him to lose his temper with murderous consequences? And, even worse than that, after killing his daughter, had Bill Evans defiled her body? Perhaps most alarmingly, according to the pathology report, the rape had been carried out with such care to avoid leaving evidence behind that it had to have been pre-planned to some degree. And what about his previous conviction?