DARK CRIMES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (9 page)

* * *

Jimmy Melsom’s boyish face was unable to hide his enthusiasm. Sophie smiled at him.

‘Good news, Jimmy?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Partly, anyway. Two lots. The phone company got back to me. They confirmed that an incoming call was made to Berzins’ mobile on Tuesday morning, just after eight. It came from another mobile. They are still trying to trace the route the call took through the networks, but apparently it didn’t originate from London. They are pretty sure that it was local to Dorset. There’s been no response when I’ve called the number they gave me. It doesn’t ring, as if it’s switched off.’

‘Well, it’s better than nothing. And the other news?’

‘Bournemouth University have confirmed that Donna was a student there, doing a business degree. She dropped out about Easter of her second year, despite being one of the top students on the course. They never saw her again. That would have been a year and a half ago.’

‘Well done, Jimmy. Get back on to the university and find out if there are students still around that were on the course with her. If so, get their names. Plus staff who knew her. We’ll try to pay them a visit tomorrow, so find out when the best time would be. I then want you to find out about an RTA death in August in the Walsall area. Donna’s father was killed. See what you can dig up.’

* * *

It was late morning when Kevin McGreedie arrived at the station. He made a brief visit to Berzins with Sophie, and came out looking thoughtful.

‘Don’t say anything just now,’ she said. ‘Wait until this afternoon. I’ve a few things to show you, but we’ll have some lunch first. I want to take you to the scene of the first murder, and get your thoughts. I’ll get Barry to come with us, since he was there with me on Monday night. By the way, have you found out Susie Pater’s mobile number?’

He nodded, and opened his notebook.

‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ Sophie said when she saw the number.

* * *

The three detectives walked up the Spring Hill path. It was still closed off to the public, and Sophie had resisted a request from the council for it to be reopened. A forensic tent still covered the place where Donna’s body had been found. They stopped there.

‘I want us to work through a re-enactment, if you’ll bear with me,’ said Sophie.

She took a ruler out of her shoulder bag. ‘I’ve chopped the final two inches off, so it’s now ten inches long. That’s probably a realistic length for the kind of kitchen knife that was the likely murder weapon. I’m the same height as Donna, and I’ve got two inch heels on, the same as she had on her boots.’

She handed the ruler to Marsh, and moved him into a slight alcove behind the lamp post.

‘When I reach this point I want you to step out and swing the ruler towards me, as if you were trying to stab me in the heart.’

Sophie walked up the path several yards, then turned and came back down. Marsh swung out from his hiding place and tried to swing the short length of plastic towards her chest.

‘Can we try again?’ he asked. ‘I didn’t get a good angle.’

They repeated the exercise twice more, but Marsh was still not satisfied that he could get the supposed knife to hit her torso straight-on.

‘I’d have to step out a second or two earlier, so that I was facing her,’ he said. ‘I can’t swing out and stab in one motion, and get the approach of the knife right. Have we got the forensic report yet? Do we know the angle of entry that the knife made in her chest?’

Sophie nodded. ‘Yes, it came in this morning. But I’m not telling you until we’ve finished this little trial.’

McGreedie spoke at this point. ‘Move it to your left hand.’

Marsh did so, and another attempt was made. This time, he could swing round and stab with the ruler in one fluid motion with no delay needed to align his body angle.

‘We’ll repeat that again,’ Sophie said. ‘This time, Kevin, can you watch the angle that the ruler makes against my body? I want to check it against the angle of the wound in Donna’s body.’

They repeated the simulated attack several times until they were sure of the motion that produced both the most natural movement and the strongest force.

‘Well?’ asked Marsh. ‘Don’t keep us on tenterhooks. How does it match up?’

‘I’m not saying until Kevin has a go. So can you swap places, please? Sorry about this, Kevin, but you’ll see the reason if you’ll just indulge me for a minute or two longer.’

The whole exercise was repeated several times with McGreedie first using his more natural right hand, then his left. Because of his greater height, the ruler’s angle of approach to Sophie’s body was higher, giving a near-horizontal entry line.

‘I wouldn’t have found it at all easy to produce a fatal stabbing motion. The path is still quite steep here, and with the extra height that your heels give you, you are way too tall. Realistically, I’d have to swing you round then stab you when you are level with me or lower. But that would mean that Donna’s body would have to be slightly lower down the path from where we found it. The inspector’s extra height means he can do it much easier. How does it all match up, ma’am?’

‘You’re about the same height as Berzins, Barry. He’s not a tall man, and he’s right-handed. He told me so, and I double-checked with the chef at the hotel. The post-mortem report shows an entry wound that dips slightly downwards.’

‘So that means it wasn’t Berzins?’

‘I’m not going as far as that. It would tend to point to a six-footer, or maybe someone even taller. But we don’t know what actually happened here. Maybe it was Berzins and he managed to turn her slightly so he was above her on the slope before stabbing her. Maybe he walked forward a yard or two to speak to her, then stabbed her, so she fell slightly further up, then pulled her down, although I can’t see why. But it puts doubt in my mind. What do you think, Kevin?’

‘I agree. This little exercise doesn’t prove anything, but it was worth doing. Is there any room for doubt in the DNA evidence? Could it be re-checked?’

‘No, there wasn’t enough. We were incredibly lucky to find a spot of saliva on one of the cigarette butts.’ She paused. ‘But that brings me to the second reason for dragging you along here this morning.’

She walked the yard or two down the tarmac path to where a narrow grassy area left it at right angles. She took a set of photos from her shoulder bag and handed one each to Marsh and McGreedie. They stood looking, orienting themselves with the features shown in the set of photos.

‘The forensics team have told me that the area was left undisturbed. I’m looking for the place where the butts were found.’

‘But surely that’s unrealistic, ma’am, to expect it all to be the same? We’re talking about nearly three days ago. There’s been more rain, some wind. And don’t forget animals. We might have had the path sealed off from people, but dogs and foxes will still have got through.’

‘I know, Barry. In fact, it would be a bit suspicious if we found that things were exactly as they were on Monday night, wouldn’t it?’

She crouched down, using the broken ruler to move a few bits of fresh debris aside. She held the photo of the partly hidden cigarette butts in front of her.

‘Okay, this looks like the set of leaves. Would you agree?’

Her two companions compared it with the photos.

‘That’s the right leaf there. It’s quite a large one,’ said McGreedie. ‘It’s exactly the same shape and is in the same position.’

‘I wonder why? You’d think it would have blown around a bit since Monday, given the windy weather we’ve had. Barry, have a closer look. Try to move it aside, but don’t force it.’

Marsh did so, finding that the brittle, dry leaf could only be moved around a fixed point.

‘There’s a tiny bit of broken twig pushed through it at the back, pinning it to the ground. It’s hardly noticeable. That’s incredible! How did you know?’

‘I can’t claim the credit for it, I’m afraid. I thought it was a bit odd, the way that the two butts ended up so close together. It was my husband who thought the leaf didn’t look right the way it was lying. I managed to speak to the forensic chap who found the butts and took the photos. He had thought it slightly unusual, but not important enough to report. I don’t think he’d spotted that it was pinned in place.’

Sophie took a small, digital camera from her bag.

‘Take some photos, Barry. This time showing the twig that’s pinning it in place. There’s a macro button on the camera.’

Marsh took pictures from different angles. They looked at the images closely, to make sure the securing twig was visible. Then they walked down to Kings Road.

‘Where does this leave us, Sophie?’ asked McGreedie.

‘I think it just confirms what we already suspected. I think we both thought that it wasn’t Berzins. I’ve thought so for some time, you since you saw him earlier. I got Wendy Blacklock, from the Met’s domestic violence unit, to observe while I interviewed him yesterday. She was not convinced that he had the right personality to commit these acts. He did receive a phone call on Tuesday morning soon after eight, but it didn’t come from the embassy in London. It was made from a mobile. His phone company gave us the number, and guess what? It was Susie Pater’s. I think Berzins was a convenient fall guy, very cleverly set up.’

‘But what about the other two murders? Surely he’s still in the frame for Susie Pater? He could have made that phone call himself if he had her phone,’ Marsh said.

‘The times don’t match. He wasn’t in Bournemouth when the call was made. And that’s where the call originated.’

‘I have my doubts, just like you,’ said McGreedie. ‘But we also need to consider the possibility that he was working with someone else.’

‘You’re right, Kevin. We do need to consider all other options. It would be really useful if the CCTV footage from Bournemouth station could be checked to see if he shows up on it. His claims of when he travelled to Bournemouth do check out. They’ve been verified by the bus driver.’

‘I’ve got someone on to that already. He should have spent the morning on it. Give me a moment.’

McGreedie phoned back to the Bournemouth incident room.

‘He didn’t leave the railway station,’ he reported after he’d hung up.

‘What?’

‘The CCTV shows him sitting in the waiting area. The only time it loses him is when he bought a coffee and a sandwich, and when he visited the toilet. A couple of minutes at most in each case. He happened to be sitting directly in view of a camera. Bob went across to the station to double-check, and a couple of the staff remember him. They wondered what he was doing, waiting there so long. Apparently they asked him if he was okay and he said he was waiting for someone. He did keep looking at his watch.’

‘What did he do all the time?’

‘He was reading. He had a thick book.’

‘
A Tale of Two Cities.
Well, it helps to put him in the clear, doesn’t it? My guess is that we’re looking for someone who’s planned all this meticulously. Tall, probably fairly powerfully built, left-handed and very aggressive. He probably caused the bruising on Donna’s body. Possibly even the leg fracture. And whoever it is also knew Susie Pater, killed her and used her phone. By the way, Kevin, there is another Bournemouth connection. Donna went to university there, although she dropped out midway through her degree. Apparently that was about a year and a half ago. That means that there is a missing year in her life that ended when she came here to Swanage. She didn’t see her family during that time. According to her brother, she only spoke to them on the phone.’

‘You’re very focussed on the girl, and not her mother. Are you so sure that she’s the more important one?’

‘Yes. In fact I’d guess that she’s the key to all three murders. The subsequent two were only done to cover the murderer’s tracks. Donna’s mother and Susie Pater both knew something that could have identified him. He knew that, so he killed them. I think they were all murdered in cold blood, premeditated. He’s evil, Kevin. Anyway, talking about Susie Pater brings me to the other reason why I wanted us to have a chat today. And I want your views on this as well, Barry.’

‘Fine. Fire away.’

‘I don’t think that Susie’s flat was her main living place. Think about the lack of food and utensils in the kitchen, and the lack of everyday clothes in the bedroom. And there was nothing personal there, nothing that made it her home. I think it was just used for her working life. It was rented, wasn’t it?’

McGreedie nodded. ‘From a rather shady character who owns a lot of properties in that area.’

‘My guess is that she had another place, probably in Bournemouth somewhere, that was her real home. With a well-stocked fridge and food in the kitchen cupboards. With ordinary clothes in the bedroom drawers. With books, magazines, DVDs and everyday things scattered around. That flat was wrong. It was all for show. No woman could have lived in that place all of the time, believe me.’ She paused. ‘Well?’

McGreedie nodded. ‘Sounds likely.’

Marsh said, ‘Don’t ask me. I’m useless at home life. As long as there’s a telly, a chair and a microwave, I’m okay.’

‘You’re a sad case, Barry. But seriously, do you agree?’

‘I suppose so, yes. My mum, my sister or my girlfriend would have a fit about the way that flat was arranged. I suppose we just hadn’t thought of it, being blokes.’