The Cloned Identity (3 page)

“Well, you know what women are like, boss.”

‘Yes, only too bloody well! I'll swear it was one of Sylvia's friends who grassed on us,' I thought to myself.

Chapter 3

Back behind my desk I eyed the pile of folders which had appeared in my absence. Then I scooped them up and dumped them in the ‘pending' tray. Well, I had a priority case now, didn't I?

My phone rang. It was the Chief, wanting to know my progress. He finished the call by telling me he could ask the Met for some help if he considered we needed it.

‘Thanks a lot!' I thought. ‘Thanks for the warning.'

Joe came in with the coffees.

“I've just had a word with Melanie. The only thing she can tell us so far is that it definitely wasn't a breakin.”

“Is that all she can come up with?” I asked.

“That's all at the moment, boss. She thinks it will be another day at least before she has any more.”

“Blast! How the hell can we progress with what we've got so far, which, Joe, when you look at it amounts to sod all? Sit down, Joe, and let's see if we can enlighten ourselves. We know that our suspect didn't need to break in, so that could mean he was known to Miss Wood. Perhaps he had been in the house before and had obtained a key in some way.”

“He could have already been in the house waiting.”

“Yes, that's another possibility, Joe. I want you to go back and have a good look round again; look to see if any work has been done recently – you know, cooker repaired, decorating, that sort of thing. Look for any tradesmen's cards. Check the parish magazine – you sometimes get local tradesmen advertising in them.”

“OK, boss, I'll get straight on to that in the morning.”

“Now, another thing, Joe: when she was found she was wearing a dressing gown as well as a nightdress, so she must have been ready for bed when she was attacked.”

Joe piped in: “Or she could have been already in bed and got up. If she was in bed and someone rang her doorbell, she would have put the dressing gown on before she went down.”

“OK, Joe, point taken. So let's agree that someone rang her doorbell, and that she was either in or ready for bed. She went to the front door, opened it—”

Joe piped in again: “According to the Thomas woman she was most careful about locking up, and kept the chain on.”

“OK, let's assume she had the chain on. She opened the door, saw who it was, closed the door and took the chain off and let them in. Now, who would she know or trust to let in at that time of night?”

“There's the other possibility I mentioned, boss: that he was already in the house. He could have taken the chain off as he left.”

“We've got too many ifs, Joe. We need a lot more facts. In your report you said she got home at about eight.”

“Well, that was an estimate, boss. After they left the vicar's they went to afternoon tea at the WI – that's in the church hall. They left about five thirty and went back to Mrs Thomas's, where they stayed until Miss Wood left at seven thirty to walk home by herself. It takes about twenty minutes, so she should have arrived home about eight.”

“We need to confirm that time, Joe, just in case she stopped off anywhere. Can we check if she did this visit on a regular basis? Someone could have clocked her. Oh, this Thomas woman – does she have a husband?”

“No, boss, he died three years ago.”

“Also check with Mrs Thomas if she has noticed anyone lately taking an interest in the Wood woman. What about work – did she have a job?”

“No, she didn't work. Again according to Thomas, she once worked at the bank in James Street, but about five years ago a distant aunt left her enough to live on. She was very glad to give her job up.”

“Why was that?” I asked.

“Well, the bank was changing over to computers and Miss Wood was finding it difficult to cope with the modern technology.”

“I see. You didn't find a will at the house, did you?”

“Well, no, boss, but she's not dead, is she?”

“No, not as far as I know, but perhaps she was meant to be if she has money. In my experience, money is the motive behind most crimes. What about the uniforms on door-to-door – anything there?”

“I've only had a quick look at the notes – nothing unusual. The woman opposite thinks she saw a man walking a dog about seven, but no one so far saw Miss Wood come home.”

“No, I expect they were all glued to the TV.” We sat quietly for a few minutes, then I said, “I'll see Gibbard before I go and see if he can lend me a WPC tomorrow. I can get her to visit the WI members – find out what the gossip is. They're more likely to talk to a woman. And another thing, Joe: find out if the church is running any special programmes.”

“In what way, boss?”

“Oh, you know, help the excon or down-and-outs, run soup kitchens – that sort of thing. If Miss Wood had been helping someone lately, and they knocked on her door, she might have let them in rather than turn them away. See if you can find out if she's been on holiday or on any courses lately – anywhere she might have met someone. Get a list of everyone she might have been in contact with. See if she was on any committees or in the church choir. I don't want all we know about Miss Wood to have come from Mrs Thomas. That's probably a biased source. I want to know her, Joe; I want to know her life pattern.”

“Phew! OK, boss, but I think we are going to need some help.”

“Don't worry, Joe – I'll get some help with the sorting and filing, and I'll ask the Chief to have Mike recalled off that course.”

Joe gathered up his notes and left my office, and I reflected that there can't be many DIs around with just a sergeant and a DC as his entire staff.

The Chief readily agreed to recall Mike; he also allocated me a PC and a civilian typist. The PC, Jenkins, seemed keen enough, and I put him on collating the information we had already. I rang a few old mates in the Met to see if there had been any similar cases; I also checked on who had been released from prison recently. Both areas drew a blank.

I popped into the hospital mid-morning. I thought I might be able to get them to get a move on with their report – but no, the reports were not ready; and no, there was no change in Miss Wood's condition. I checked with the WPC, who looked bored out of her mind – but no, there had been no visitors. However, she told me the uncle had called and was travelling down, so I asked her to call in the moment he arrived.

On my way out I popped into the hospital shop and bought the thickest paperback they had and took it to the WPC. She thanked me with a lovely smile – well, she was quite nice. I had noticed her in the canteen, not that a DI would go out with a WPC – not from the same nick, anyway, but who knows? If I could solve this case, I could be transferred; I might even get a blessing from the Bishop and a discount on a burial plot.

Back at the office Joe was still out, Jenkins was hard at it and the typist was polishing her nails. I said some nice things to her, which made her blush, and I left her tapping away.

Back in my office I found the preliminary forensic report on my desk. I sat on the desk and read through the dozen or so pages. They were not really much help. In other words, there were no fingerprints of any known criminals.

I heard some voices and looked through the glass. Joe was back. I threw the report on the desk and went back into the main office. The typist spotted me coming and attacked her machine with a renewed vigour.

“How's it going?” I asked Joe.

“Oh, slowly, boss. I've bought another load of paperwork in for processing.”

“Joe, I've got the prelim from Mel. It's not a lot of help.”

“I know, boss. I bumped into her on the way in. She's a bit miffed. The Chief's been chasing her as well.”

“Did she say when we would get the full report?”

“She reckons about five, boss.”

I turned to go back to my office.

“Oh, Joe, I popped into the hospital, but there's no change. Let's see if we can aim for a meeting at six to chew over what we've got.”

“OK, boss.”

I spent the lunchtime in my office with a curled-up sandwich and a pint of milk. It wouldn't be right to be seen loitering in the canteen by one of the Chief's spies. The rest of the afternoon was spent on the phone or thinking – mostly about Sylvia, funnily enough. I found I missed her quite a lot, and I was toying with the idea of contacting her again – after all, we hadn't finished, not of our own free will, anyway. Perhaps I had better wait to see what happens with this case first.

At five fifteen both the hospital's and Mel's reports arrived. I read the hospital one first – that was certainly more interesting than Mel's – and I made some notes. I stood up and had a stretch.

I could see that Mike Dobson had arrived back. He was talking to Joe – moaning, no doubt, about being pulled off that nice cushy course he had wangled himself on to.

I settled down in my chair again, bang on six. Joe and Mike knocked and came in. I was glad to see that Mike had brought a chair with him for a change.

“Joe,” I said, “ask Jenkins to join us. Make him feel wanted, then we might get some work instead of moans from him, and tell him to bring a chair.”

While we waited I asked Mike how the course was going.

Presently Joe came back with Jenkins in tow, and there followed a shifting of chairs so they could all get in. Finally, when the movement and noise had stopped, I looked at Joe.

“Joe, perhaps you can start by filling us all in on what we know so far.”

“OK, boss. The victim is a Miss Susan Wood, aged forty-four, spinster, lives on her own. She has no full-time employment and lives off an inheritance from an aunt. The only living relative we know about is an uncle who lives up north. Miss Wood is very active with her local church and supports many of the church activities. We do not know of any male friends, or enemies. She was apparently assaulted at home, possibly late evening. Money, chequebook and credit cards were all found in her handbag, so robbery has been ruled out.”

“Not completely,” I interrupted. “Could be something else was taken that we don't yet know about. Carry on, Joe.”

“The attacker, we believe, was either known to the victim or was already waiting inside the house as there is no evidence of any forced entry. None of the neighbours noticed anything suspicious. The last person to see the victim before the attack was a Mrs Thomas, and that was at seven o'clock the same evening. It was Mrs Thomas who found the victim – that was about eight thirty the following morning. All the persons we have interviewed so far have given a similar picture of a cheerful, dedicated, caring person. And that's about it so far, boss.”

“Thanks, Joe. Before we go any further I want to impress on you that this case is important – not just because of the nature of the crime, but because the Chief has a personal interest. So be warned and be on your guard. Now I've got the full forensic and hospital reports” – I tapped the folders in front of me – “I'll make sure you all get copies. The forensic doesn't help us very much, and the hospital report makes interesting reading, but again is not much help in solving the crime. I'll tell you the general details: The time of the attack is given at ten thirty to eleven. She was raped and had been a virgin. There are bruises to both sides of the throat, which indicate that the attacker grabbed her by the throat. The position of the bruises indicates that the attacker is taller than she is. She is five foot five, and the attacker is probably at least six foot. They think she was probably semi-conscious when she was forced on to the bed. There was no evidence, such as broken fingernails, etc., to indicate that she put up much of a fight, and Mel's report confirms that there were no signs of a struggle anywhere in the house. According to the hospital report, there was deep bruising on both sides of her hips at the rear, where he must have gripped her while he forced his way in. Judging by the severity of the bruising, he found it difficult, which suggests a man of limited sexual experience. Now the big surprise: no traces of semen were found anywhere, but they did find traces of lubricant – the sort used on condoms. This was found on the inside of both thighs, on her pubic hair and inside the vagina. The hospital think the coma was probably caused by shock and a lack of oxygen. There is evidence of smothering, but they don't think it was deliberate; it more than likely happened when he was lying on top of her, which again points to the man being considerably taller than she is.”

I sat back in my chair with my hands clasped behind my head. Now, I know I am the only one in this room who has had previous experience of rape cases, but, let me tell you, this is the first time I've come across a rapist using a condom. Even when an assault is premeditated, the rapist is usually too busy and worked up to even think about a thing like that. One theory put forward on a course I went on was that rapists like to leave their mark on the victim, like animals putting scent marks around their territory. Now, you brainy lot, any ideas?”

“Well, boss, perhaps he was worried about catching something nasty, like Aids,” said Jenkins.

“What about you, Mike?”

“Could be he knows about DNA.”

“You mean, someone like a copper for instance?”

“I didn't mean that exactly, boss.”

Jenkins shifted uneasily in his chair.

“But if it was a copper, boss, that might be why she let him in.”

“That's right, Joe, but it could also be he has Aids or something nasty he doesn't want to pass on. If the DNA theory is correct, he is probably a person of intelligence, and he may be someone who has had previous experience.”

“Do you mean he might have done it before, boss?”

“It's possible, Joe. Let's not discount it – not yet, anyway. OK, you can all see we have very little in the way of evidence. It doesn't matter how much theory we come up with, we can only solve this case with facts; so, starting tomorrow, Mike, you and Jenkins can go to the house and have a good look round – especially at that rear service road.”