DARK CRIMES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (5 page)

She stared back at him, wishing that she could add a few choice words. There was a silence.

She turned to Silver. ‘I’ll need to be off, Matt. The ACC wanted me to pop in before I go back to Swanage. I’m interviewing Berzins later this evening, if you want to be there.’

Silver looked relieved. ‘Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll come back with you.’

As she left the room, she heard Silver saying, ‘I warned you.’

* * *

‘What the hell was that all about, Matt? And what did you warn him? And just for the record, I do apologise for swearing at my immediate superior officer. I don’t make a habit of it.’

Silver had been lurking in the corridor, hands in pockets, as she came out of the assistant chief constable’s office. They had walked to the car park in silence.

‘I’m glad of that. It doesn’t go with your ice-queen image, Sophie.’

‘Oh, ha bloody ha.’

‘I just warned him that you had a masters in psychology. You know, I think he might be a bit thick. I wonder if he took my comment to mean that you were an academic, head-in-the-clouds type. And I didn’t mean that at all. I meant it as a warning that you were an expert at behaviour, and would use it on him.’

‘Do I use it on you, then?’

‘Well, I’ve never managed to outmanoeuvre you yet. So what does that tell you?’

She ignored the question. ‘I think he’s just an old fashioned misogynist. A throwback to the time when men were men and women weren’t detective chief inspectors investigating murder. I’ve never come across anything quite so crass in my entire career, and that stretches back nearly twenty years. It’s unbelievable. He can’t have ever read my record to make those comments. Who the hell does he think he is?’

‘Don’t get angry now, Sophie. You kept your cool remarkably well back there and you may well have to continue doing so for a bit longer with him. By the way, what did our friend the ACC have to say? And I must say that was the perfect coup-de-grace. “The ACC just wants me to pop in before I go back.” Ouch. I was watching you at the time, but I could almost hear his jaw drop.’

‘It was genuine. He did call me this afternoon and ask me to see him. And I can tell you’re dying to know, but I didn’t mention that little difficulty with our moody friend. I don’t want to start a feud. Anyway, the ACC asked the same kind of questions that you did. Did I have enough manpower, what were my thoughts on Berzins’ story, et cetera. Reassuring, eh? You’re both on the same wavelength.’

‘Except that you were holding back on something, Sophie. Do you want to tell me?’

‘Not yet, apart from the fact that there could be more to this than meets the eye. And that’s all I’m willing to say, since it is more than likely that Berzins is the killer, and that we’ll somehow get the evidence to prove it.’

Just then her mobile phone rang. ‘Hello, Benny. What have you found?’

‘Just to let you know that the detailed scan results of the young woman are here. In addition to the bruises that we saw, she had a healed fracture of the right shin bone. Consistent with a very hard kick, but there could be a number of other conceivable causes.’

‘How long ago?’

‘I’d guess nine to eighteen months. And I’m sticking with my guesses about the other marks on her body. They are consistent with physical abuse over a period of time, but it’s difficult to be sure of when they happened. If they were mild injuries, then within the past few weeks. If they were more serious, they could date back several months. It’s impossible to be certain since people heal at different rates.’

‘That’s terrific, Benny. Thanks. Let me know if anything else turns up, okay? Listen, I want to come over and look at that X-ray with you. Maybe tomorrow morning? I could call in first thing.’

She ended the call and they drove in silence for a while. Then Silver spoke. ‘When do you expect news about the DNA check on those cigarette ends?’

‘I’ve leaned on them to push it through as fast as they can. I’m expecting the result mid-morning tomorrow. Apparently they got something off them, which is amazing, considering they were out in the rain for hours. Our problem, Matt, is that we know absolutely nothing about Donna before she came to Swanage three months ago. But these previous injuries give us a start. We can trawl through the hospital records.’

‘You still seem to be concentrating on the girl and not her mother. There are two murders, Sophie.’

‘The girl is the key, I’m sure. I’d guess that her mother was killed because she knew something that would identify her daughter’s killer. It’s possible that they both knew him. Maybe he was a friend or family member. That’s why all the address books and diaries have gone.’

‘So you don’t think it was Berzins?’

‘It’s still possible, if he knew her for longer than he says. This case is proving to be a real puzzle and some things don’t add up yet. And something else has only just occurred to me: Why did this supposed call from the embassy this morning ask him to go to Bournemouth? If some official had to be in Poole to catch a ferry, then surely they’d have asked Berzins to meet him there? It’s a shorter, easier bus trip for him from Swanage, and wouldn’t require an extra stop for the official. It doesn’t make sense.’

‘That’s my girl.’

‘Shut up, you patronising pig.’

* * *

The interview room was bare and functional. No matter how attractive a police station was from outside, the interiors were all too often plain and characterless. Sophie wondered if a vase of flowers would make a difference to the atmosphere. No good, of course. The vase could be broken and used as a weapon. Would plastic flowers be practical . . . ? Her thoughts were wandering — she must concentrate. She’d been questioning Berzins about Donna, trying to build up a picture of what the young woman was like. She appeared to have been intelligent but slightly guarded and prickly. This tied in with what Maria Jones had said at the hotel.

There were more people in the room at this session. The duty solicitor was sitting beside Berzins, and Matt Silver sat next to Sophie, with his chair pulled back. He was present as an observer. Barry Marsh stood leaning against the back wall, next to the solitary uniformed constable.

‘Tell me what you know about Donna’s family background, Vilis.’

‘She told me that her father was recently dead. I don’t know how. You have asked me about her mother. I do not know much about her. Donna has an older brother. I think his name is David. She said that he lives in Birmingham. I never met her grandmother. She moved to Swanage many years ago and bought the flat. She left it to Donna when she died last year.’

Sophie scribbled on a notepad, tore off the page and handed it to Marsh, who glanced at it and left the room in order to follow up the information about a brother. The bodies had still not been formally identified.

‘Tell me about her mother,’ said Sophie.

‘She seemed a nice woman. I met her the first time when Donna took me to tea at her house last month. She talked to me about Latvia. I think she was anxious in case we became serious and I wanted Donna to return to Latvia with me.’

‘Did you ever discuss this with Donna?’

‘No. We had not reached that stage yet. I really liked her, but I was not sure about her feelings for me. She seemed to like me, but there were times when she was cold to me.’

‘When did you feel this coldness towards you?’

‘It was the morning after we . . . slept together. I felt very happy, but she did not show that. She was more distant than cold. I tried to assure her of my love, but she just smiled, and the smile had no warmth.’

‘How many more times did you sleep with her?’

‘One more time. Last week. Again she was cold afterwards, even more than the first time.’

‘Where did you sleep together?’

‘In her flat. Not in my room at the hotel. Everyone would know of it there. We did not want that.’

‘Vilis, did you ever hit Donna?’

‘No, of course not.’ He sounded sincere enough.

‘She had bruises on her face and arms. Where did they come from?’

‘I did not notice them at first, when she started working at the hotel. But that was because she would keep them covered. I saw them only recently. I don’t know where they came from. She wouldn’t tell me.’

‘How many times did you ask about them?’

‘Once only. She did not want to talk about it. I was frightened that if I kept asking she would stop seeing me, and I didn’t want that.’

‘How obvious were the bruises when you first saw them?’

‘The ones on her face were not easily seen because she wore make-up over them. On her arms they were stronger, but she wore long sleeves so people didn’t know about them. They are nearly faded now. I think she was happy about that.’

‘And she gave you no idea at all about how she got them? Weren’t you curious?’

‘Of course. I felt sorry that she’d been hurt. But she clearly didn’t want me to ask about it again, so I didn’t.’

‘Do you smoke, Vilis?’

He looked surprised.

‘Yes, but I have been trying to give up. Donna didn’t like it. I am down to just three or four cigarettes a day.’

What make of cigarette do you prefer?’

‘Marlboro.’

‘Did Donna say why she didn’t like you smoking?’

‘No, but last week she told me that I must give up if I wanted to stay with her. She gave me until Christmas. So I was determined to stop.’

‘Show me your writing, Vilis. Would you write your name and address on this pad, please.’

Berzins wrote his Swanage address and his address in Riga with his right hand.

‘You are right-handed?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can you write with your left hand, Vilis?’

‘No. If I do it is untidy.’

‘Do you drive?’

‘I learned to drive back in Riga, but I do not drive in England. Driving on the left would worry me.’

‘Did Donna drive?’

‘Yes, but she didn’t have a car. She was saving for one. She has not driven since I knew her.’

Just then, Pillay knocked and opened the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt, ma’am. You need to see this.’ She stepped back into the corridor.

Sophie followed her out and took the sheet of paper.

‘Christ. That’s unbelievable. And the times match. And surely that’s only about half a mile from the station?’

‘I think so.’

‘How did you spot this?’

‘I was just keeping my eye on messaging, and realised something was going on. I phoned Bob Thompson over in Bournemouth once I realised its importance. I asked him to email the details across.’

They went back into the interview room.

‘We will terminate this interview now, Vilis. You will remain in custody overnight, while we continue to make enquiries.’

‘Is that necessary?’ asked the solicitor.

‘I’m afraid so. This is a murder inquiry, and Mr Berzins is one of the chief suspects. It is getting late, and we have some further inquiries to make. I suggest that we continue the interview tomorrow.’

‘You only have until three thirty to keep him without charging him,’ said the solicitor.

‘I’m aware of that. We’ll meet tomorrow.’

The Duty Constable led Berzins out of the room, followed by the solicitor.

‘Look at this.’ Sophie handed the paper across to Silver.

‘My God. Do you think it’s linked?’

‘What are the chances of it not being connected? I’ll need to get across there to see. Want to come? I can drop you home afterwards.’

Marsh came back in. ‘What’s happened?’ he said.

‘Another murder. This time in Bournemouth. A young woman, a prostitute, was strangled, probably earlier today. Her room has been cleaned out of any personal or contact information, and there is no trace of a mobile phone.’

‘Surely it’s just a coincidence? Why do we think it’s connected to this case?’

‘It’s in the red-light district. Which is only half a mile from the railway station. And Berzins was at the station for much of the morning, waiting for a supposed meeting with a non-existent embassy official.’

CHAPTER 4: Silk Umbrella

Late Tuesday Evening, Week 1

The four detectives drove north out of Swanage. It had been a long and stressful day, so Sophie had told Barry Marsh and Lydia Pillay that they needn’t come, but they had both opted to.

‘We don’t want to miss this,’ Pillay said. ‘It could wrap the case up. It’s just too much of a coincidence, surely, him being in the neighbourhood when this girl was killed?’

Sophie didn’t reply. She was thinking hard about how the latest murder added so many complicating factors to the investigation, forcing her to rethink some of her tentative theories.

‘Never assume anything,’ replied Silver. ‘You can easily make a fool of yourself if you jump to the wrong conclusions. Let’s just say that, at the moment, it could be a very interesting development. But we need to wait to see what the facts are first. By the way, do we know who’s in charge at Bournemouth?’

‘Bob Thompson was the one I spoke to, sir. He’s a DS,’ replied Pillay. ‘I think it’s a DI McGreedie in charge.’

‘I know Kevin McGreedie. You’ve worked with him, haven’t you, Sophie?’ Silver said.

‘Yes. He’s a good detective. It’ll be done properly if he’s in charge.’

‘That’s if he stays in charge. If it looks as if it is linked, I could ask the ACC to transfer the case to us. It would make sense. But let’s wait and see.’

Sophie asked Pillay about the missing umbrella.

‘Maria thinks that it was an expensive designer one. It was deep burgundy in colour with a pattern of small cream-coloured roses. She also said that, even though it was obviously pricey, Donna had said she needed a new one. Maria didn’t know why.’

Outside the busy holiday season the ferry route to Bournemouth, across the mouth of Poole harbour, was quicker than the long drive around the huge inlet. On a chilly and damp November evening, the wait was non-existent. They drove straight onto the ferry and were across to the Bournemouth side within ten minutes.

They soon found the road they were looking for. It was in a rather down-at-heel area of Bournemouth. At the end of the street, close to the railway station, there was a mix of commercial premises and terraced houses, but these soon gave way to larger properties, some converted into guest houses and hotels. It was easy to spot the building they were seeking. Two squad cars were parked outside, and a uniformed policeman stood guard at the door. The paint was peeling from the window frames and doors. The house looked as if it had been subdivided into six flats, spread across three floors. Sophie couldn’t help comparing the building to the neatly-kept block in Swanage where Donna had lived.

Inside, the décor was worn but clean. They were met by Kevin McGreedie, a tall plain-clothes officer. Sophie liked him. He’d been in the Dorset police longer than her, and knew the criminals who operated in the Bournemouth and Poole area better than any other detective.

‘Evening, Kevin,’ said Silver. ‘I think you know Sophie Allen?’

‘Of course, sir. Glad to see you both. You’re very welcome, if that’s a word I can use in a situation like this. I understand you’re investigating a couple of murders over in Swanage that might be related to this one.’

‘We’re holding a suspect at the station, Kevin,’ said Sophie. ‘The murders took place last night, but our man spent this morning here in Bournemouth waiting at the station for a London train. He was here for a good couple of hours. Lydia heard about the death here, and contacted Bob for details. One of ours was a strangling. In both cases the homes were ransacked in an odd way, and from what we heard that was what happened here. Is that what you’ve found?’

‘Yes. The girl was strangled and someone has searched the flat. It’s really more of a glorified bedsit, really. Anyway, we can’t find any communications, lists, diaries or phones. Even the landline phone has gone missing, although we’re pretty sure there was one. Forensics have just about finished, and they haven’t found a thing that can be used to positively identify our victim.’

‘So you don’t know who she is?’ said Marsh.

‘Oh, we do. Her name is Susie Pater. But that comes from her neighbours. There isn’t anything here with her name on it. Bob and I are mystified.’

‘Has her body been taken away yet?’ asked Sophie.

‘No. It’s ready to go, but once I heard that you were on your way, I delayed things. She’s still in the position she was found in.’

‘Thanks, Kevin. Can we see it now?’

McGreedie led the way to the top floor and opened a door on the left side of the stairway. There were three doors off a small entrance hall, and Kevin took them into the room on the right. It was a small bedroom with a window looking out from the back of the house. The room had a deep red carpet and red curtains. The large bed had red satin sheets, and a matching duvet. The small, pale body lay like a doll on the bed, and the white skin contrasted with the dark hair cascading across the pillow. She was wearing a satin nightdress in deep blue. A matching negligee lay untidily across the bottom of the bed, its sleeves falling almost to the floor. On a chair beside the bed were some daytime clothes — a pair of jeans, a jumper, and a matching set of bra and pants. A pair of trainers had been kicked under the chair.

Sophie looked closely at the woman’s upper torso and neck. ‘Can I move her head?’

McGreedie nodded. She put on a pair of latex gloves and gently turned the neck to get a better look at the ligature pattern.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘The marks are similar to those on Donna’s mother. With her we think it was some kind of thick cord. Have a look, Lydia. You saw the marks on her. Do they look similarly placed to you? Sorry, but I need you to check.’

Pillay bent over the body.

‘I think so, ma’am. The scarring looks quite precise, just like at Corfe, and in about the same position. As if whoever it was knew what he was doing.’

Sophie turned to McGreedie.

‘Well, you have our thoughts, Kevin. We think it could be the same guy, and he was no novice at strangulation. Beyond that, I can’t add anything. I’m totally mystified as to why she needed to die, other than that maybe she knew something that he didn’t want let out. That’s if there is a reason.’

There was a short silence.

‘You think it might have been done for the sake of it? No other reason? He could be a psychopath killing at random?’ asked Silver.

‘I don’t think that’s the case, but we have to consider it. Nothing can be ruled out at this stage. What are your thoughts, Kevin?’

‘I don’t disagree with you, Sophie. Thank God you’ve got someone in custody already, because three murders inside twenty-four hours would just be too terrible to contemplate if he was still on the loose. But it worries me that there are no leads here, nothing substantial to go on. Let’s follow the MOM principle, shall we? Means? He was prepared and had the cord with him. Opportunity? Early morning is quiet in this area, particularly mid-week. Either she knew him and let him in, or he’d booked a session with her. Motive? Well, that’s the unknown, as Sophie has said. We’ve already started to take statements from the other flat occupants, and the neighbours. We know her name was Susie Pater, that she was twenty-four, and that she came from Exeter. We’re trying to trace her family now.’

‘So where do we go from here?’ asked Silver.

‘If you’re asking what I think you are, Matt, then I’m quite happy to let Kevin deal with this end of things,’ said Sophie. ‘Particularly since he’s made such a good start. But if it is what we think, the work of the same man, then it has to form part of the same investigation. I’d like Kevin to report everything to me. That’s if you’re happy with that, Kevin?’

He nodded. ‘Fine by me. It makes sense.’

‘I’m sure we’ll work together well. If we keep each other informed of everything we discover, then we can bounce ideas off each other. And you know this locality and the residents in it better than anyone else on the force. It would be pointless for us to muscle in and take over completely. In fact, do you want to come over and see our man for yourself tomorrow morning? I’m waiting for the results of some forensic evidence, and may end up charging him late morning.’

‘Absolutely. I’d like to see this guy, but I’m due in court tomorrow. Maybe Thursday?’

‘Fine. Has anyone put a time on her murder? Even a rough idea?’ Sophie said.

‘Forensics won’t commit at the moment. But the body temperature gave them something to go on and, as a rough estimate, they think it was somewhere between eight this morning and noon,’ said McGreedie.

‘If that does get confirmed, then it fits the time frame for when our man was hanging around at the station. He was there from mid-morning until two, when he was spotted by a transport officer.’

‘That was pretty stupid. Why on earth didn’t he just hop on the first train out?’

‘It’s complicated, Kevin. By the way, who found the body here?’

‘A friend of hers called Bernice Halley. I think she’s another working girl. Apparently they were due to meet for lunch at one, and when Susie didn’t turn up her friend got worried. Susie was always prompt. She wasn’t answering her mobile, and that was unusual. Her friend called by and found the door locked, yet a couple of windows were open. That was also unusual. She had a spare key, and our victim had one for her place. A sort of mutual safety plan in case of trouble, although it didn’t work in this case. She found things as you see them, had a screaming fit and then called us in.’

‘I wonder if she’d already been up and about, dressed in those clothes on the chair. They’re the kind of things she might have put on for breakfast and a visit to the shops. Any evidence that she’d been out?’

‘No. We don’t think she had. No one else in the building had heard her go out, although I expect that there are plenty of comings and goings here. But the local shops hadn’t seen her this morning.’

‘Thanks. I’ll just have a quick look round, if that’s okay. Barry, you’re with me on this.’

Sophie opened a small wardrobe that occupied a corner of the bedroom. Hanging inside were several glitzy dresses, a couple of tight skirts and three faux-fur jackets. Pairs of high heels were neatly aligned on the floor, along with several pairs of boots. On the top shelf stood a row of wigs, all on individual stands, and some ornate masks.

The dressing table unit contained a range of make-up, and two drawers of colourful lingerie. Another drawer had a neatly stacked pile of silk and satin blouses and strappy tops, while a fourth held some shiny, vinyl clothes.

‘It’s all well-organised, Barry. A lot cleaner and tidier than similar places I’ve seen. What do you think?’

‘Her outfits are the kind of stuff I’d expect. As for neatness, all I can say is that it’s better than my place. Makes me a bit ashamed.’

Sophie left the bedroom and walked slowly through the rest of the small flat, with Marsh following. There was a small toilet and shower room, decorated in white tiles with a pale yellow pattern. The room, too small for a bath, had a tiny washbasin fitted into one corner. She opened the cabinet, and looked at the bottles of pills and medicines on the shelves. There was nothing out of the ordinary — painkillers, birth control pills, vitamin pills and several packets of condoms, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste. The other shelves contained cotton wool, cleansing creams and hair products.

A small window looked out over the front garden to the road. The top fanlight window was open on the latch. This must have been the one that her friend had spotted. Most people wouldn’t bother closing an upper-floor window as small and as invulnerable as this when leaving the house for a short time. Yet, according to her friend, Susie always secured all of her windows before going out.

The tiny kitchen was also decorated in pale yellow. A fabric-block print of sunflowers hung on one wall. A table was pushed close against one of the other walls with two chairs beneath it. There was a sink under the window, with a small worktop beside it. Fitted against a third wall was a small electric stove, with a fridge and a tiny microwave oven nearby. Sophie opened the cupboards and peered inside at the few packets and tins of food on the shelves. The sparse collection of cooking utensils didn’t look as if they were used much. The fridge contained some milk, cheese, butter and some salad vegetables, but little else. The window faced out over the front of the house and, just like the bathroom, had a small top section open slightly.

‘Could you see yourself living here, Barry?’

‘No. Grubby neighbourhood,’ he said.

‘I mean in this flat. Forget where it is.’

‘Possibly. It would be okay for one person. A bit poky, but I could cope fine.’

‘What about the food that’s here? Any thoughts?’

‘Well, she was obviously into salads. The microwave is fine. I eat a lot of ready meals. She doesn’t seem to have any. I’d put a TV onto the worktop over there. You could sit and watch while eating your dinner. She doesn’t seem to have a telly.’

Sophie didn’t reply. The flat didn’t feel right to her, but she was too tired to work out why.

‘Time to go,’ she said.

They returned to the hallway and Sophie turned to speak to McGreedie, who was standing and waiting for them. Three coat hooks hung from the wall beside his head, empty except for a brown leather jacket which didn’t seem to be hanging straight. Sophie reached out and moved the jacket aside. Then she stood still, looking at the long, slender umbrella that was now exposed to view. It was deep burgundy, patterned with tiny, ornate roses. She turned to smile at McGreedie, put on a pair of latex gloves from her bag, and carefully lifted the umbrella into a plastic evidence bag.