Concrete Evidence (13 page)

              “San Miguel please,” Tod said as he settled.

              “Large?”

              “Si.”

              The tables around him were full. He heard Spanish, French and Italian being spoken. Four young English women were sat adjacent to him, giggling and laughing. From the volume of their conversation, he guessed that they had been drinking most of the day. A mixture of cigarettes and perfume drifted from them on the breeze and he inhaled deeply. He could almost taste them. The lane was quiet, only a few families were ambling along it. An elderly couple linked arms and studied the bar’s menu. They decided against eating there. Tod watched the husband shaking his head, put off by the group of rowdy English women and they wandered up the lane towards the busier streets, pausing to window shop at a small silversmith a few buildings away. A lone male stopped and stood next to them. He was a local, short and had a wiry build. Although he was looking at the jewellery, he was also eyeing the woman’s handbag. He looked around to see if anyone was watching him. Tod locked eyes with him for a second before the waiter returned blocking his view.

              “Tapas!” the waiter announced his arrival. He placed an oval plate with a selection of savoury smelling tasters on to the table in front of him and put his lager onto the beer mat. “Enjoy!” Tod grinned and picked up a small black pudding. He bit it in half and swallowed it and then washed it down with a mouth full of ice cold beer. The waiter returned his smile and moved on to the next table. When he stepped aside, Tod noticed that the lone male had taken a seat at a table opposite him. It was almost impossible not to look directly at him and every time he did, the man was staring back but would look away immediately. He wasn’t sure why but the man’s presence made him feel uneasy. Very uneasy indeed.           

                                                           CHAPTER 16             

       Detective Superintendent Alec Ramsay put the phone down and sighed. He hated dealing with the Government. Junior ministers tended to be over zealous, under informed and tenaciously interfering. The Major Investigation Team were handpicked detectives. They were the cream of the force and more than equipped to run the investigation into the murders and resulting explosion. The problem with an explosion is that everyone automatically assumes that an extremist cell is to blame. MI5 talk to Special Branch, they talk to the local police hierarchy and report back to Westminster. Westminster automatically assume that the local force is run by incompetents and cover their backsides by pestering the most senior officers involved in the case at source. They always tried to bypass the Secret Service to get to the information first. It was all about point scoring. Junior Ministers climbed the ladder quickly if they had the ability to capture information by whatever means necessary. However bullying a senior police officer wasn’t easy especially one hardened by working in the inner cities for decades. Alec had told Donald Roebothan to go forth and multiply in the most polite way that he could without putting his pension in jeopardy. There was absolutely no suspicion of terrorism at all. None. Alec had suggested that whoever had informed him that they hadn’t ruled it out was an idiot and a liar and they certainly hadn’t spoken to himself or DI Annie Jones. It would relieve the pressure momentarily but it would return with a vengeance if the team didn’t make progress quickly. Very quickly.

              He stood up, looked out of the window and exhaled slowly, calming himself. The view of the Albert Docks and the huge Ferris wheel always made him feel better. The waters of the River Mersey looked like liquid metal today, reflecting the grey clouds above. A majestic cruise ship was docked at the Pier Head begging the question how something so big could float. Its modern curves set it in stark contrast to the historic riverside buildings. Alec felt his karma restored and turned to head for the MIT section. He could hear the noise from their offices long before he reached them. The tension in the atmosphere was almost electric like the moments before a thunder storm begins. He opened the door and paused, allowing the ambiance to wash over him. The excitement of an investigation was something that never lessened no matter how many he had been involved in. It had been enough to keep him focused on the job for over twenty years at the expense of his marriage to his departed wife. Her death had opened his eyes to how much he had neglected her but it was too late to put things right. She had had a knack of making him feel guilty when she was alive and she was still doing it from the grave except now it was far more intense and it didn’t ease when he arrived home. In the dark hours their empty house seemed to echo with her voice. Her essence was gone from their home leaving it void of life. It had been void of love for years but when Gail was alive, it still felt like home. Now it was an empty shell. Bricks and mortar, nothing more. It had no soul. He tried to shift her from his thoughts whenever he stepped inside.            

        The DI was addressing the troops using a bank of screens to display various images related to their case. She caught sight of him and paused, “Guv,” she nodded.

                     “Please carry on where you left off,” he said apologetically.

       “How did the call from London go?” she asked.

       “If idiots could fly, Westminster would be an airport!” a ripple of laughter spread through the room. “Please carry on.”

       “This is the CCTV footage from the nightclub,” she said pointing to a screen. “Jayne Windsor can be seen leaving with this man.” Annie held up a photocopy of the suspect, which Coco had printed off. A female detective handed Alec a copy. He studied the face but didn’t recognise the man.

              “She looks out of it,” Sterling said, “but she doesn’t drink. He’s almost dragging her along there. The head doorman informed me that Jayne and Jackie were regulars at the club and that he has never seen Jayne leave with a man.”

              “Rohypnol?” Alec asked.

        Stirling nodded. “We think so, Guv.”

“Here is the footage of her being bundled into her car,” Annie continued. “The same man puts her into the front seat of her BMW and then he returns to the stairwell and returns with Jackie Web. We can only assume that she left the club via one of the fire exits earlier in the evening as there is no record of her leaving through the front door. He throws her into the back of the car and then drives it out of the car park. CCTV footage from a wine bar further up Brownlow Hill, shows the vehicle stopping outside but we can’t see what happens.”

“So he drugged both women before taking them in the BMW?” Alec asked. “Isn’t it more likely that he had an accomplice? Was Jackie with anyone in the club?”

“She was with this guy,” Stirling pointed to another screen. “She danced with him most of the evening but at this point here,” he paused and pointed to a still from the CCTV, “our suspect returns from the bar with three drinks. He could have spiked both women on his own. Jackie Web is last filmed walking into the toilets but we never see her coming out. She may have left the club another way, felt ill and returned to the car park. We have the other man leaving via the front entrance alone.”

“Maybe she passed out on the stairwell?” Alec nodded.

“Maybe the suspect got lucky.”

“Or maybe it was planned,” Alec wasn’t convinced. “You have to keep your minds open to an accomplice.”

“Realistically, yes, although we can’t assume that there was one at this stage.” Annie said thoughtfully. “My problem with the entire case is the incendiary that he rigged up.” Nodding heads around the room agreed with her. “Did he set that incendiary device to kill or maim the responding officers?”

“Good question. Did he?” Alec shrugged. His forehead wrinkled. Deep lines creased his skin. “Or did he set it to destroy evidence? He knew that at some stage the attic would be searched but how could he know exactly who would lift that hatch?”

“Fact is that he couldn’t know but I think the whole scene was set to confuse the investigation. He murders the women in each other’s home and makes the identification of the first victim difficult enough for us to assume that it was Jayne. Her mother was devastated when the body was found in her daughter’s house, then she finds out that it might not be her daughter only to be devastated a second time when we discover the second body.”

“So is he trying to cause as much emotional turmoil for the families or is it for our benefit?” Alec asked.

“The text carved into Jackie Webb is personal,” Google pitched in. “Maybe causing the families distress is part of his game.”

“Game?” Alec thought it was an odd description.

“Yes, game,” Google blushed. He removed his glasses and wiped them on his tie. “He has planned this in meticulous detail. The Rohypnol, the car, the empty houses, the use of the text,” Google rubbed his eyes, “there’s no way that he could have become fluent enough in Glagolitic to create all this,” he said holding up a crime scene photo. “He must have had reference material with him.”

“He could have had a tablet or simply used his mobile,” Annie said.

“Agreed,” Google nodded. “But the planning involved is meticulous. Switching the victims to confuse us, the booby-trap, everything about it has been designed to taunt both us and the families.” He cleared his throat nervously. “That’s just my opinion, obviously.”

“Why go to so much trouble though?” Alec asked. “Isn’t it just as likely that the killer went looking for a victim with the Rohypnol in his pocket, stumbles across Jayne Windsor and then runs with the situation improvising along the way?” the room was silent as the scenarios were analysed mentally by each detective. “Once he realised the victims had an empty house, he indulged himself.”

“Why take Jayne to Jackie’s apartment unless it was part of a complex plan?” Google countered.

“Time,” Alec replied ruffling his sandy hair, “he had finished with the first victim and wanted to spend time with the second victim. The longer he stayed at the first crime scene the more likely it was that someone would call at the house,” he smiled thinly, “he sets the incendiary to confuse the respondents giving him more time with the second victim. It could simply be a case of making the most of the opportunity. Don’t get me wrong, he is one sick bastard but be careful that you don’t gift him with a level of cunning which might not be there.” Alec walked to the window and looked outside. “There are too many variables that could have gone wrong on the night. Even the most detailed plan could have gone tits up that night. I mean, what if Jayne Windsor had decided not to go out at all? She was the driver. That would have left Jackie Webb stranded at home.” He shrugged. “Would she have gone out alone?”

Google looked wounded, “I concede that there are many possible answers to this conundrum but my gut tells me that our killer is too smart to be an opportunist.” He paused. “I’ll grant you that it may be random but,” he nervously cleaned his glasses again despite the fact that they were spotless, “the incendiary wasn’t constructed on a whim. It was designed and built to be triggered by moving the loft hatch. He had to have bought the individual components and experimented with them before even contemplating the murders. That couldn’t possibly be random.”             

“It was a simple device,” Alec shrugged, “how long would it have taken you to put together if you had to?”

Google tilted his head and smiled nervously, “Twenty minutes or so if I had the components to hand.”

“I think you could do it in ten,” Alec pointed his finger at him. “Let’s assume that he intended to use the device to destroy the evidence at a crime scene at some point in his future. It would fit into a suitcase and could have been primed and ready to use for months couldn’t it?”

“It could have been, Guv,” Stirling tried to take the focus from Google. He was too smart for his own good sometimes. “We have found instructions for several similar devices on the net. I am with you that we need to keep an open mind as to the motive. Catching the bastard is all that counts.”

“Agreed,” Annie said relieved that the debate was smothered. “The facts are that we have a perfect mug-shot of the suspect. We have their whereabouts on the evening in question and CSI is testing DNA from both scenes. It is a matter of time before we identify him. I was going to ask for your input at this juncture, Guv.”

“How can I help?”

“I want to go national with this mug-shot.”

“National?”

“Yes,” she paused and looked at Stirling.

He nodded in agreement. “We want to broadcast his mug-shot and share the MO with the other divisions.

“There’s no way this is his first time, Guv.” Annie flicked images from the first crime scene. Alec nodded as a picture of the Cyrillic script etched into pale skin appeared. “He has done this before. I think we should cast the net widely and see what we catch.”

“I agree,” Alec said rubbing his hands together. “I’ll set up a press conference for first thing in the morning. I’m owed a few favours. It might be time to cash them in.”

“Thanks, Guv.” She turned to the room. “In the meantime I want everything that we can find on the victims especially Jackie Webb. I want motive.” Heads nodded as the room went back to work. “Jim, find out what you can on Jayne Windsor. It might be worth a trip to Halewood station. Speak to her DI in person but tread carefully.”