Wrong Place: A gripping serial killer crime thriller. (4 page)

CHAPTER FOUR

Sally followed the rising sun into work that morning. Keen to get on with Brenda’s case, she wanted to start her day an hour before the others arrived.

“Morning, ma’am,” the desk sergeant greeted her the second she stepped through the door to the station at Wymondham.

“Morning, Pat. Quiet night, was it?”

He sucked in the air between the gaps in his teeth and shook his head. “Nope. I was going to give you a ring but knew you’d get in early this morning. You always do when there’s a new case on the go.”

Her heart sank. “Damn. You should’ve still rung me. What is it? Another murder?”

“Yep, within striking distance of the case you’re already working on. I’m guessing both crimes will end up being linked.”

“Really? How far from Acle?”

“About five miles. The body was found at another beauty spot down by the river, too. You don’t have to be a genius to join the dots on this one, gov.”

“That’s as maybe, Pat. Let’s see what the pathologist and his team have to say first though, eh?”

“Yes, ma’am. I rang him myself not an hour ago. He should be down at the scene by now.”

“Damn. Thanks for using your initiative. It’s a shame you never thought to ring me at the same time.”

The sergeant’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“It doesn’t matter, what’s done is done.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” the sergeant replied, genuine guilt evident in his voice.

She accepted his apology, turned on her heel, and sprinted up the stairs. On the way, she dialled a number on her mobile. “Jack, get in here right away. We’ve got another one.”

“Shit! I’m on my way.”

“Grow a pair of wings if you have to. I want to get to the site in the next twenty minutes. Got that?”

“Jesus, no pressure, then. Don’t go complaining about my excessive BO in the car, will you? I haven’t even had a shower yet.”

“No, dear. Get your arse into gear, pronto.”

She hung up as she reached the top of the stairs and almost bumped into DCI Green, her superior officer. “Morning, sir. Must run, I’ve got a murder scene to attend.”

“Not so fast, Inspector. I’m sure you have time to fill me in before you go.”

“I suppose I can spare you five minutes while I wait for my partner to arrive, sir. Do you want to join me in my office?” Sally resigned herself to spending the next fifteen minutes recounting the case of the first victim. DCI Mick Green always insisted on hearing every miniscule detail of a case once he cornered her on the hop. That was why she did everything in her power to avoid him whenever possible. Of course, she had to fill him in with every case that crossed her desk, but usually, she tried to avoid doing that until the case was either nearing completion or fully solved. DCI Green enjoyed his role as a paper-pusher—that was all Sally had seen him do in the three years he’d been her superior. Unlike DCI Joan Cradley, his predecessor, Green had not once ever accompanied Sally to a crime scene. Joan, who was also a very close friend of Sally’s, had cited boredom as her reason for taking an early retirement. Not everyone was cut out to file papers and carry out surveys on how to improve the police department every day. Sally knew she would go insane if the higher-ups ever forced her into the same position.

Sally was just coming to the end of sharing the details of Brenda’s case with the DCI when Jack knocked on the door then barged into her office.

“I think we’re finished here now, Jack. Aren’t we, sir?” Sally asked the DCI, wearing a tight smile.

“Indeed we are. I’ll let you get out there and cast your eyes over this new scene. Keep me informed at all times on this one, Inspector. I don’t take kindly to having unsolved murders of women on my patch.”

Sally stood as the DCI did. “Yes, sir. You have my word on that.”

“Sergeant. Forget to shave this morning, did you?” The DCI halted in front of Jack and looked him up and down.

“I rang and ordered him to get in here sharpish this morning, sir. His unkempt appearance is, therefore, totally my fault. I’ll make sure he shaves before we leave the station,” Sally said quickly, cutting off her partner before he had the chance to speak.

“No need for that. Have you seen all the beards Vice are sporting nowadays? I can’t stand them. Just make sure you don’t go down that route. You hear me?”

Jack nodded and felt the stubble on his chin. “No fear of that, sir. My wife would divorce me if I hinted at keeping this permanently.” A glint appeared in his eyes. “Or maybe I should consider growing one after all.”

“I’m with your wife on this one. What about you, Inspector? Clean shaven or beard?”

Sally gulped. “Er, definitely clean shaven for me, sir. If we women can’t hide our spots with beards, then why should men be allowed to?”

The DCI chortled as he left the room.

Sally exhaled and puffed out her cheeks. “Jeez… I thought he was never going to leave. Thanks for rescuing me. Are you ready to set off? I don’t think we have time to hang around and wait for the others to start their shift.”

“Fine by me. Can we grab a coffee and a doughnut on the way?”

“To a murder scene? Do you think that’s wise?”

“Okay, on second thoughts, I’ll stick with just the coffee instead.”

Sally pointed at the vending machine in the corner of the room. “On you go. I’ll have a white with one sugar, too. Thanks for offering.”

“Cheeky cow,” Jack mumbled when he turned his back on her.

“I heard that,” she joked sternly.

They took their coffees with them when they left the station. Sally parked the car alongside the pathologist’s van, then she and Jack walked across the grassy area to the riverbank, where the team was erecting a marquee to protect the body. The sharp breeze was giving them trouble.

“Problems, Simon?” Sally asked, coming to a standstill beside the thoughtful man.

“Good to see you here so promptly, Inspector, given the time of day. We’re just figuring out the logistics.” Simon tapped his finger against his stubbled chin.

“Meaning?”

“I think we’ll have to take photos of the corpse’s position then move it. At the moment, her head is still in the water, and it’s proving difficult to shield from the elements.”

“I see. Do what you have to do, then. Looks a nasty one,” Sally peered at the woman’s charred body then looked sideways at her partner. “Good job you decided against stopping off for that doughnut, Jack.”

His mouth twisted, and he nodded. “Too right. Christ, do we know if she was dead before she was barbecued?”

“Have some respect for the victim, Jack,” Sally chastised him before asking Simon, “Do we know when she died?”

Simon shook his head and smiled at her. “Let’s do the usual—set about preserving the body and any possible evidence first. I’ll know more once I carry out a preliminary examination. Okay?”

“Sure, you carry on. All right if we search around for any sign of ID?” Sally surveyed the immediate area.

“No need. Her clothes and her handbag were found in a pile, just like the first victim. We’ve bagged them up already.”

“So you’re definitely linking the two crimes?”

“Seems feasible to me, what with the two incidents occurring only five miles apart,” Simon said.

“We can’t really pinpoint the same MO though, can we? Considering the differing CODs.”

“There is that. But then, how many murders do we really get in this area? This is the second one in as many days. Seems plausible to link the two crimes to me, if only because of the way the clothes and ID were arranged at both scenes.”

“It’s not uncommon for serial killers to alter the killing process occasionally, from what I’ve heard; not having dealt with many of these kinds of cases before,” Sally stated pensively.

“Serial killer? Is that what you’re putting this down to, boss?” Jack asked.

“Not willing to jump the gun. Let’s see what the examination results throw up, eh?” Simon responded.

“I’m happy to set that conclusion aside for now,” Sally said.

“Indeed,” Simon replied. “Excuse me.” He walked towards the other two suited members of his team and issued his instructions.

“Let’s see if we can take a peek at her ID.” Sally walked back to the pathologist’s van, pulled on her latex gloves, sank her hand into the paper evidence bag, and pulled out the woman’s handbag. The square leather purse looked brand-new. Sally unzipped the pocket and located a bank debit card and a driving licence with the name Maddie Webster. “Jot this down, Jack. Maddie Webster, 17 Miller’s Croft Road, Lingwood.”

“Okay. I don’t suppose you can find anything in there to say if she’s married or not.”

“The card calls her a miss, so I’m guessing she’s single.” Sally smiled at Simon as he approached them. “Sorry, I took the liberty of having a look.”

“That’s fine. It’s why I didn’t seal the bag. My guys are taking some shots of the victim, then we’ll be pulling her clear of the river and erecting the tent. I think we’ll be here most of the morning and well into the afternoon. There’s one thing I’d like to point out before I continue.”

“I’m all ears.” Sally inclined her head.

“I spotted a few of the woman’s garments in the water a little downstream. Not sure what significance lies behind that, but thought I’d throw it out there anyway.”

“Maybe a gust of wind was to blame,” Sally replied thoughtfully. “Mind if we stick around for a little while?”

“You’re welcome to. As soon as the marquee is up, I’ll be taking a closer look at the body.”

“If you’re linking the two crimes, do you think there’ll be DNA similar to that on the first victim?”

Simon nodded. “I’m hoping so.”

Not long after, his team gave him the go-ahead, and the three of them entered the marquee one after the other.

The smell of burning flesh hit Sally instantly, and she covered her nose. However, Jack didn’t, and he soon began to gag in the confined space. She chuckled, earning herself a glare from her partner, who looked decidedly green around the gills.

Simon knelt beside the victim, his paper mask in place. The first area he checked was between the victim’s legs. “Yep, it’s as I suspected. She was either raped or had consensual sex before she met her end. I’ll take a swab and bet you both fifty quid that this semen sample matches the semen we found on last night’s victim.”

“That’s one positive if it does.” Sally felt her hopes rising.

Simon dealt with the sample and passed it to another team member to label and list. Then he examined the corpse. “Well, there’s faint bruising to the neck.”

“You can make that out even though the body is burnt?” Sally queried.

“Yes, with my trained eye, very little escapes me. You should know that by now, Inspector.”

“Of course. So, she was strangled, just like Brenda Fisher.”

“I won’t be able to confirm that as the COD, or whether the killer drowned her first then strangled her to ensure she was dead. It might have been the other way around, of course. I won’t know that until the PM to see if there is any water in her lungs.”

“Well, I think we’ve seen enough, Simon. We’ll leave you to it now that we have the verification that there is once again DNA evidence on the victim. Will you ring me later if anything else shows up?”

“Affirmative. Good luck with the investigation. Do you want to attend the post-mortem?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. We’ll throw ourselves into finding out about the victim, see if we can pick up any possible leads to the killer.”

“Very well.”

Sally and Jack made their way back to the car and set off in the direction of the victim’s home. The tiny terraced house was in a street filled with similar-sized properties, most of which were in good repair. Only a few of the houses let the street down, from what Sally could tell at a quick glance.

“Let’s hope she shares her home with either a boyfriend or a friend.” Sally rang the bell and slipped her hand in her jacket pocket, ready to produce her warrant card if someone answered the door. No one did. She sighed heavily. “Looks like we’re out of luck. We’ll try the neighbours. You take that one, and I’ll take this side.”

Jack nodded.

They retraced their steps then split up at the end of the path. Each of them knocked on the two houses either side.

After Sally knocked, a harassed-looking woman in her early thirties opened the door, with a small child on her hip. “Yes?”

“Sorry, I can see you’re busy with the little one. I was wondering if you could tell me anything about your neighbour.” Sally pointed at the house she was referring to. “Maddie Webster, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. In what respect? And who are you?”

Sally showed the woman her ID. “DI Sally Parker from the Norfolk Constabulary.”

“I see. Is Maddie in trouble of some kind?”

“Maybe it would be better if I came inside for a quick chat. Would that be okay?”

“I’m in the middle of doing the housework. Everything takes twice as long with this little one crawling around the floor, getting under my feet. If you don’t mind the mess, you’re welcome to come in.”

“Thanks, that’s no problem. I’ll just get my partner.” Sally clicked her fingers to gain Jack’s attention and motioned for him to join her.

He hopped over the two brick walls between the three houses, and they followed the woman through the house to the kitchen at the rear of the property.

“Like I said, excuse the mess.”

“Have you just got the one child?” Sally asked.

“One at home during the day and two at primary school. Three kids under the age of seven for my sins.”

“Yikes, that’s hard work.”

“It is. About Maddie? I haven’t seen her since yesterday. She always pops in for a coffee before her shift. She loves playing with the kids. Poor cow says she can’t have any of her own. I tried to palm one or two of mine off on her, but she wouldn’t hear of that.”

Sally smiled at the woman. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“It’s Liz, Liz Foot.” The woman cleared the table in front of two chairs and invited Sally and Jack to sit down. “Would you like a drink?”

“Only if you’re having one.”

Liz placed the child in the highchair and switched on the kettle. “What’s Maddie done?”