Frozen Grave (32 page)

‘It’s possible – she seemed vague on the phone; we need to pinpoint his arrival time.’

Carter sat up in his seat.

‘But then we know that whoever set Olivia up is able to manipulate or pay for someone else to do the job,’ he said. ‘Could someone have been paid to set fire to Gillian
Forth’s house?’

‘We looked into the possibility of a hired killer coming to do it,’ answered Robbo. ‘Truth is, it would cost a lot more than the money Ellerman took from her. I can’t see
that being worth it.’

‘He could have paid one of Toffee’s crew to come and do it. That would have cost him, what? A few grand, tops. Or Balik – he might be up for a change of scenery. We need to
look at CCTV of trains to Exeter, see if we can spot any of them waiting to board.’

‘I think,’ said Willis, ‘that if he paid someone, he might even have to drive them there. They’re all off their faces. How could you be sure they would do the
job?’

‘No, I reckon you could go through the route with one of them. You could show them exactly what, where and how and they could do it. We need to get the computers taken out of the hostel
and we need to look at them – that’s the most likely place any planning would have been done. Toffee’s got to come out of this coma with a name for us of who paid him. Someone
must have seen him talking to a stranger. We need to ring Detective Blackman now and ask her if there’s any news on Toffee.’

Willis rang Blackman and put her on speakerphone.

‘What’s the latest on Toffee?’ asked Carter.

‘I’m at the hospital now, sir. He’s stable, and there’s talk of starting the process of bringing him round. The swelling on his brain is reduced. They’re not sure
how much it will affect his memory or speech at the moment.’

‘Is Simon Smith still there?’

‘Most days he calls in. Sometimes he stays a few hours, sometimes it’s a flying visit.’

‘We’re having the PCs picked up from the hostel. What about your mum in there? Does everything seem okay in there to her? Is there any more talk of the murder?’

‘There’s plenty of talk about it. Apparently, Balik is bragging about how he murdered Olivia Grantham. There’s talk that he kept a souvenir from the attack. He’s saying
he got paid by Simon. The Hannover Boys continue to come over and intimidate the residents. I think we need to have a show of force on the estate.’

‘Why is it so hard to find Balik?’

‘I don’t know, sir. We have patrols out looking for him. I think the only hope is through his grandfather.’

‘Well, keep looking, Blackman. We need Balik in for questioning.’ They fininshed the call to her as Sandford joined them.

‘I’ve prepared a report on Harding’s car.’

‘That was quick,’ said Robbo.

‘Yes, well, it didn’t have to be examined on the inside. We’re just looking for matches on the outside to Olivia Grantham’s car and to the crime scenes.’

He came across to Robbo’s desk, put his case on the floor and opened the file, spreading the photos and diagrams in a line across the desk.

‘There are twelve sites which are of interest on Hardings’s car. We have dog hair of a similar light colour to that found in Olivia’s car. We have two sets of hand and
fingerprints that match to her car also. Here, on the roof, where someone’s stamped on the roof and a boot has torn the fabric. There is a match to the heel imprint and the boot print around
Olivia’s body.’

‘That’s not going to convict anyone,’ said Carter.

‘No, but this along with evidence might do.’ Sandford brushed aside Carter’s negativity. He had saved his best piece of information till last. He pulled out another set of
photos from the file and held them in his hand.

‘I contacted Fiat and they sent me a replacement first-aid kit because someone had ripped hers open. They also sent me a replacement spare-wheel kit.’ He took the kit out of his case
and unfolded it. ‘This . . .’ He held up the foot-long piece of metal piping with a square end for undoing the wheel nuts. ‘Is an exact match to the puncture wounds on
Harding’s car.’ He spread out the photos he had in his hand. ‘And the same diameter as the . . .’ He looked at Willis.

‘The blow that killed Olivia, the one that punctured her skull.’

‘Exactly.’ He smiled at her.

After she finished talking to Carter, Zoe picked up her car keys and drove to Hannover Estate. She sat there, watching the activity. There was no sign of Balik. She regretted
not arresting him outside the hostel. She thought it reflected badly on her. She hadn’t handled it as well as she could have. She thought about Balik’s dog and rang an old boyfriend
– a police-dog handler.

‘Griff, I’m not good with dogs; what should I know if one attacks me?’

‘It will lunge, teeth bared. You kind of know it’s going to do it. Before it attacks, don’t make eye contact, don’t wave your arms around. Stay still. Don’t front
it, turn to the side so that it doesn’t think you’re aggressive – a threat. Don’t scream unless it starts biting you and then scream as loud as you can to get help. Throw
anything at it to give it something to chew on besides you – a bag, shoe, book, anything, then get away, walk. Don’t run, it will see you as prey.’

‘What if that doesn’t work?’

‘When the dog bites, it is trying to bring you down. Stay on your feet. If it bites your arm or leg, don’t move. If you move then the dog bite tears into your flesh, causing maximum
damage. If it gets you onto the floor and starts biting you then roll into a ball and make fists with your hands and protect your neck, your head, face. Wait until it loses interest in you then
walk away.’

‘What if it doesn’t? How will it try and kill me?’

‘Rip out your throat. Anyway, how are the kids? How are you? Fancy a drink some time?’

‘I’ll let you know – thanks for the advice.’

She parked up, got out of the car, and walked across to the tower block. On the sixteenth floor, she listened hard at Balik’s grandfather’s flat. She could hear the sound of the dog
moving. It was walking up and down behind the door, pacing back and forth. She knocked. The dog went ballistic; it hurled itself at the door.

‘Mr Balik, can you hear me?’ There was no reply.

Inside the flat, Mr Balik was dead. His throat had been ripped out but not before he had been bitten one hundred and seventy-three times.

‘We came here expecting to talk to Lisa about her connection to a murder in London and another in Exeter,’ Carter said to the crime-scene manager, Jesse Arnold, who
was standing with them at the cliff edge. A tent had been erected around the point where Lisa fell.

‘We didn’t treat it as suspicious at first. We get suicides all the time on this stretch of the coastline, but we had a report of a driver seeing what looked like a scuffle and he
saw the woman being lifted over the fence here. One of the officers recognized her from the gym he goes to. When you contacted us about your enquiry, we knew it was her.’

‘Who was the driver?’

‘A local man, name of Mendrik-Sutton. We have his statement.’

‘What made him come forward?’

‘He drove past here this morning and saw the police activity – he thought he should come forward.’

‘Can we talk to him?’

‘Yes. He works from home – a web designer.’

Tucker parked his car and walked across to them. He had driven straight up from Exeter.

They looked over the railings. Beneath them were three SOCOs. The body was shielded from view by a makeshift screen to either side and suspended across the front. ‘The doctor said she had
probably died from a broken neck. She’d been dead about twelve hours when she was found at eight this morning.’

‘Who found her?’

‘A man walking his dogs. We don’t know what injuries are on the body yet but there are signs of a struggle here at the cliff edge. Several sets of footprints here at the edge and
leading to this spot. The grass is so wet there are some slide marks here and over there, where the area has been ringed for casts to be taken.’

Carter and Willis walked across to take a look. Willis squatted at the edge of the disturbed patch of grass.

‘It’s going to be difficult to get a clean print. Looks like someone’s been stamping on this ground.’

‘Our best bet is what’s on her body. It hasn’t rained overnight. We might be lucky. We haven’t been able to get her off the cage; it’s going to take a
crane.’

The officer in charge looked up at them.

‘We’re going to be able to get her down soon. If you want to take a look at her from this angle you’d better hurry up.’

‘Coming,’ Carter said.

Tucker led the way back down the road and down some steps that led to the walkway beneath the cliffs.

Lisa Tompkins’s body was caught on the metal cage. There was a scattering of stones on the path beneath it.

‘Anything fall with her?’

‘We haven’t found anything so far. We might dislodge something when we move her,’ the officer said.

They watched as the recovery of the body began. It was extracted from the cage and lowered to the walkway beneath.

Willis stooped forward to take a better look at the body as she donned protective gloves. It was frozen solid in a twisted position.

‘She has wounds where she was impaled on the cage,’ Willis said as she stretched the fabric on Lisa’s running top and jagged puncture wounds became visible. The T-shirt beneath
was saturated and crisp with blood. ‘And she lost a lot of blood.’

‘She didn’t die from a broken neck?’

Willis stood, shook her head, as the rain started. Large icy drops settled in her hair.

‘She was alive long enough to bleed out.’

‘Mr Mendrik-Sutton?’

A slim, tall man, wearing thick black trendy glasses and dressed in a T-shirt and expensive jeans, opened his front door to the three detectives.

‘Yes.’ He smiled.

Carter showed his badge. Willis and Tucker did likewise.

‘We phoned earlier. Can we come in?’

‘Please, do.’ He stepped aside and held open the front door for them to walk through to his lounge/office. It was an uncluttered space with more PCs than sofas.

‘We’d like to run through what you saw on Saturday evening when you were driving along the coast road.’

‘Yes, sure. Please sit down.’

All three detectives sat on the red 1960s sofa, which was more chic than comfortable. Willis perched on the edge of the seat and took out her notebook. Mendrik-Sutton sat in the only other seat
– an orange armchair.

‘Can you just tell us what you saw.’

‘Um, well, it was just after nine. I’d been to dinner with a friend and was driving home when I saw two runners.’

‘Male or female?’

‘I’m not sure. I saw them out of the corner of my eye. One had a hoodie on. I remember thinking that it was a very cold night. The road was freezing. I had to watch out for black
ice. I thought that I wouldn’t have been running so late in the evening.’

‘Did they look like they were running together?’

‘No, not at first. One was a few paces away from the other. The next time I looked they seemed to be alongside one another and then something caught my eye and I nearly crashed as I saw
what seemed to be a fight between them. There was a car passing me and I took my eyes from them for a split second and then I looked back and they were both gone. When I drove by this morning and
saw the police activity, I thought I should say something. I hope it helps.’

‘Yes, many thanks and we’ll get back to you if we need anything further.’

After they left Mendrik-Sutton’s they drove to Lisa Tompkins’s house. They parked at the end of the road. The house had an officer outside. The team of SOCOs were
finishing up. The man in charge of them – Penny – stopped to talk to Carter.

‘Any sign of anything untoward going on here?’ Carter asked him.

Penny was a slight man. The white suit ballooned around him.

‘No,’ Penny answered. ‘No signs of any disturbance. Just what you’d expect to find.’

‘Would it be okay if we bring our team down here? This could be connected to another investigation. This woman was on a list of women involved with a man we’re looking into. Three of
the women are now dead. All died in different circumstances.’

‘Let us know what you need and we’ll oblige,’ said Penny.

‘Can we have a look round now?’

‘Be my guest.’

They stepped inside the front door and walked straight into the lounge.

‘You can’t swing a cat in here,’ Tucker said as he stood in the middle of the room, looking around.

‘No, you don’t get a lot for your money. Location, location, location,’ said Carter as he moved through to the kitchen. ‘This is a bit better. At least you can sit down
in here. There’s a table and chairs.’ Carter began opening the drawers. Willis opened the back door and stepped out into a lean-to.

‘Nice bike,’ she said. A racing bike was leaning against the wall there. Tucker joined her and took a step past her, down into the lean-to and then to the tiny patio beyond. He
walked to a back gate and opened it.

‘This is the way she must come in and out with the bike.’

‘Where does it lead? Do we know?’ asked Willis as she rejoined him.

‘My guess is it comes out at the end of the houses, towards the station. Useful little short cut.’

‘Yes, she would probably use it most days. Maybe just hide the key somewhere while she’s out running. It’s a nuisance to run with a bunch of keys.’

‘Do you run?’ He turned to look at her.

Willis felt herself blush. ‘Yes, but not every day.’

‘Fast?’

‘As the wind.’ She smiled and almost added, ‘it’s in my blood’, but decided not to.

‘Ha-ha. You’ll have to give me a head start then because I’ve got a war wound. One leg is longer than the other.’

‘Which is it – a war wound or uneven legs?’

‘Both. I can’t dance like I used to.’

‘What kind of dance?’

‘Salsa, ceroc, jive, you name it . . .’

She looked at him. ‘I’m always suspicious of single men who go to those classes.’

‘Okay. Right. Just as well I’m lying then.’

‘I’m even more suspicious of men who lie.’