Design for Murder (20 page)

‘So that’s the first task, and our number one priority: find Conroy. But that doesn’t mean we neglect other lines of enquiry. We’ve had information passed to us from London – for once the bastards down there seem to have paid attention to what goes on in the north.’ His comment raised a faint smile on some faces: he was known to be a southerner himself previously from the Met, and they knew that this was a way of trying to bond the group to his objectives. He grunted, then selected a different photograph. ‘This is a photograph of one George Khan. Good-looking bastard, isn’t he? It seems the dead woman was a bit of a randy piece, chief executive of a big company, and that this character was the latest in a line of lovers. Enquiries are currently being
made in London as to his whereabouts at the moment: it seems he’s not been seen at his office or home for some days. There’s a view that he might well be up here, though we can’t be certain of that. Anyway, keep your eyes skinned. We can’t ignore the possibility that this killing was motivated by a lovers’ quarrel. So, Meredith, Jones and Sampson, you’ll be checking through the list of men she’d been involved with. Usual stuff. Not least, the last time they might have seen her, nature of their relationship with her, alibis for the night in question. Charlton, you’ll be responsible for liaison with the Met and their contact with the Home Office.’

Charlie took a deep breath. ‘Right. That brings us to one other thing. We may be hunting Raymond Conroy but he had his enemies. Two of them are known to us. I’ve met them myself, a few days ago, here in the north-east. One is Gary Lawson; another is Nick Capaldi. They’re both based in the Midlands but they’re up here, and they think of themselves as hard lads. I don’t want them getting in the way of our enquiries. So you, Salmond, will co-ordinate a search for these two guys, along with DC McManus. I want them hauled in, questioned, and if there’s nothing to be got out of them, I want their arses kicked back to the Midlands, out of our way.’

He closed the file, stuck it under his arm and surveyed the room silently for a few moments. ‘Now we don’t know quite how Coleen Chivers fell into the killer’s hands. We have information that she was at a charity dinner in Gosforth earlier that evening, but left early. She was seen in a bar close by to the Gosforth Park Hotel, probably in the company of a man, but we have no clear description of this person. Maybe we should assume it was Raymond Conroy, but let’s not get carried away. Could have been Khan. We have no identifiable time for her leaving the bar, and there’s been no
sighting of her after that event. Her car was discovered nearby: forensic are still combing through it. My guess is we’ll not get much from it. The killer probably took her away in his own car though how the hell he enticed her into it, God only knows. But when she was found, she’d been stripped, so we need to find any items of her clothing that may have been discarded in the area. We also have no information just yet as to the time of death. Dickens and Riley can confirm that it looks as though she was strangled, slashed and then dumped. But all this means you’ve got plenty of lines of enquiry to follow. You’ll see from the sheets in front of you the make-up of the teams, who’s leading the groups, and where your priorities lie.’

He put his head back, challengingly. ‘And let’s get one thing clear. We’re certainly not going to be working in a bubble here. The press are going to be on our necks; the public will be harassing us. I need hardly tell you, so will the top brass. This is urgent, guys. So keep your mouths shut while you follow your enquiries. But first things first. Find Raymond Conroy!’

The groups began to break up, some leaving the room, some staying where they were, studying the file. Elaine Start remained where she was, reading the reports from the forensic labs in the Midlands, studying the photographs. Charlie returned to his office.

Some twenty minutes later there was a light tap on the door and Elaine Start looked in on him. ‘Can you spare me a few minutes, sir?’

Charlie leaned back in his chair and beckoned to her to come in. She closed the door behind her, quietly. There was a slight frown on her face and she seemed a little edgy.

‘So how can I help you, DS Start?’ he said in a formal tone.

There was a hint of mockery in his voice as he adopted the
same formality she did when they were in the office together. Whatever happened between them when they were between her sheets was not referred to here. She straightened, opening the file he had given her. ‘It’s about some of the details noted here, sir.’

‘What about them?’

‘Well, the first thing is, the cuts on Coleen Chivers’ breasts. They’re somewhat … crude.’

‘How do you mean?’

Elaine placed several photographs on the desk in front of him. ‘These are the shots taken of the victims of the Zodiac Killer. We all know, because the papers have been screaming about it from the beginning, that the killer seems to have
so-called
artistic leanings. He got his kicks by keeping the women alive, it seems, in that cellar we now know about, while he used a scalpel to torture them, carving Zodiac signs on their bodies, inking the marks later to outline the sign. I have to admit I don’t see much artistry in them, just a series of cuts linking specific points….’

‘I don’t suppose he was able to draw the full figures of Sagittarius and Libra in detail,’ Charlie replied a little irritably, ‘with the victims presumably struggling and yelling. But I get the picture, if you’ll excuse the pun.’

Elaine clearly thought the remark flippant. ‘That’s not really the point I want to make,’ she said. ‘The fact is, if you look at the cuts made on the women in the Midlands they’re clearly defined, precise in their lines. That’s not the case with Coleen Chivers. It’s not even possible to see what design the killer had in mind. To me they just look like … cuts.’

Charlie sighed. ‘I don’t think you can have been listening closely enough to my briefing. A car was seen leaving Tynemouth Priory. Conroy had taken the woman there, naked, strangled her, cut her about—’

‘But previously he’d done that in a secure hideout!’

‘Damn it, he’s not been up here long enough to find a safe house!’ Charlie snapped, losing patience unreasonably. ‘Can’t you see that? Look, my view is that the urge was on the perverted bastard again, he wanted to satisfy it, he grabbed the Chivers woman, strangled her, carved her … but couldn’t do his normal fastidious job on her as he did the others because he didn’t have an available cellar and time. And he was probably disturbed when the police car turned up in Front Street.’ He glared at her. ‘You don’t seem convinced.’

She was silent for a little while. Then she took a sheet from the file and stared at it. ‘This report from the Gosforth lab—’

‘They’ve not had time to produce a full report,’ Charlie interrupted dismissively. ‘It’s just a few findings, preliminary stuff.’

‘But it states that there were traces of the date-rape drug, rohypnol, in the body. There’s no evidence in the other three cases, in the Midlands, of the use of such drugs.’

Charlie sighed theatrically. ‘Detective Sergeant Start, let’s compare like with like before we jump at issues like that. The killing of Coleen Chivers naturally differs from the cases in the Midlands. It wasn’t planned as carefully. There was no safe house where Conroy could hide the woman while he tortured her. And because of the periods during which he held his previous victims, there’s no way we can know whether or not he used rohypnol or any other drug at any particular time in the killings. So just exactly what are you trying to say? What’s bothering you?’

Elaine Start raised her head and held his glance stubbornly. ‘I just don’t think we should jump to conclusions without looking at all the evidence.’

‘You think Raymond Conroy didn’t strangle the Chivers woman?’ Charlie demanded.

She hesitated. ‘I didn’t say that. I—’

‘You don’t think we should treat Conroy as our major suspect?’

‘I’m not sure. I mean, this Khan guy—’

‘You don’t think we should look for Conroy as a main priority?’ Charlie insisted savagely.

Elaine Start’s mouth was set firm. She made no reply.

Charlie Spate regarded her coldly for a little while. Then he nodded. ‘OK, so you’ve made your point. I’ve heard you out. But I’m sure we both agree I’m in charge of this investigation. And I’m sure you agree it’s worrying that Raymond Conroy, a suspected killer, should have disappeared from our screens. And I’m also certain, now, that you’ll follow instructions and give every priority to hunting that perverted bastard. Others are checking on Khan. And when we find Conroy, well, I guess we’ll be able to get answers to all the questions you raise, won’t we?’

His eyes reflected his displeasure. Elaine stood rigidly in front of his desk, almost at attention. Then, quietly, she picked up the photographs, slipped them back into the file and turned towards the door. When she reached it, she hesitated. She looked back at him. Her tone was reluctant, suddenly uncertain. ‘There’s one more thing. I … I haven’t got around to, well, thanking you.’

Charlie raised his eyebrows but made no reply.

She was unable to meet his eye. ‘Last week, when you rescued me from Club 95. If I’d been picked up in that state, it could have cost me my career.’

‘Probably,’ he replied coldly.

She took a deep breath, her magnificent bosom rising. For
once he was not distracted. ‘And if you hadn’t taken me home,’ she added, ‘you wouldn’t have lost track of Conroy.’

‘That’s true.’

He wasn’t making it easy for her. She raised her eyes, staring at him sheepishly. It was an odd situation, a new development in their relationship. Although he was the senior officer, it was Elaine who always seemed to be in control in their personal lives. For once, she was caught awkwardly, unable to retain her composure. She ran a hand nervously over her mouth. ‘Well, I just feel I ought to say thanks, and sort of apologize to you. For putting you in that position, I mean. And thank you, for not spilling the beans to ACC Charteris.’

Charlie shrugged dismissively. ‘I could hardly do that, without exposing my own behaviour.’

‘Yes, but …’ Her voice died away. Her glance flickered around the room, then returned to hold his. ‘Anyway, I’ve been slow in telling you I appreciate it. I needed to think things over, you see, and that meant I couldn’t say anything straightaway.’

‘Let’s forget it,’ Charlie said airily, and busied himself with the papers in front of him. After a short silence he looked up, to see Elaine still standing in the doorway.

‘I was wondering … will you be coming around on Friday night?’ she asked.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.’

It was as though he had struck her. She stiffened, held his glance for a few seconds then opened the door and left the room. The door closed behind her. The soft click of the lock had the sound of cold finality.

Inevitably, the newspapers retained the story in front-page headlines for the next few days, and there was considerable coverage on the regional television programmes. By the end of the week criticism of the police became more vocal: the fact of the botched police surveillance was leaked to the press and the question was asked, how could they have allowed a suspected murderer to vanish without trace? Eric discussed it with Sharon Owen when they met for dinner in the city.

‘They’re being careful not to mention Conroy by name,’ she said.

‘Even though it’s obvious it’s him they’re referring to,’ Eric agreed.

They had both read the potted history of the life of Coleen Chivers churned out in various newspaper articles. There was extended coverage of her business successes, her activities in various projects, and some guarded comment on her social life.

‘They’re skating around her personal life a bit,’ Eric mused, ‘but there’s enough to be read between the lines to suggest they know about her somewhat rackety indiscretions.’

Sharon shook her head. ‘At least no one yet seems to have picked up the family connection with me. Let’s hope it stays that way.’

It did not, of course. Early the following week, the news broke in the
Journal
. An investigative reporter had traced the family tree, first back to the link with the Chivers Trust and their grandfather George Chivers, and then to Sharon’s mother, and her brother Peter, who had sired Coleen Chivers. There was even a mention of the scandalous
behaviour of Sharon’s father, the solicitor James Owen, who had depleted the funds available to the beneficiaries of the Chivers Trust. Eric wondered whether the leak would have been the result of questions asked of the former trust solicitor, Strudmore. There was a certain gossipy quality about Strudmore’s confidences, and he was the most likely source.

Sharon took it fairly philosophically. They met for a coffee at the Malmaison on the Quayside, close to Eric’s office and her chambers. ‘It was inevitable they’d fish out the information,’ she said gloomily. ‘But there’s nothing I can do about it. There have been a few phone calls from journalists. Not very welcome, but I’ve been polite. And dismissive. I didn’t know Coleen Chivers. I had never met her. I have no comments to make on the manner of her death. And I’ve refused to discuss the fact that I had defended Raymond Conroy.’ She hesitated. ‘Or as one journalist put it, the man who has since murdered my cousin.’

‘That’s yet to be proved,’ Eric muttered.

‘I put the phone down on the guy when he said that.’ Sharon toyed with her coffee spoon, staring out of the window down towards Wesley Square, and across the elegant curving arch of the Millennium Bridge towards the Baltic Centre. ‘But what do you think, Eric? Did Conroy do it? Did we help get him off the Midlands murder charges, only for him to kill again?’

‘We did our job, Sharon. That’s all. And it’s not yet been proved that Conroy did kill Coleen Chivers. It’s not something that deserves our attention.’ Even as he said it his mind slipped back to the interview with DCI Charlie Spate, when he had asked Eric for his assistance in using Jackie Parton as an informant. He hadn’t mentioned it to Sharon, and he saw no reason to do so now. He had heard nothing
from the ex-jockey, but he was sure that if Jackie Parton came up with any information he would hear of it before any report was made to DCI Spate.