The Electrician's Code (16 page)

Chapter Thirty-Five

F
or Sharon Yoder, Saturday was one of the busiest days of the week. Although she wanted to sleep in, she woke at her usual five alarm, and all the better for it—she had a hundred things to get done.

A load of laundry went into the machine, and she separated a pile to take to the dry cleaners. During her first cup of coffee, she planned her grocery list, wading through her cupboards and fridge for needed items. She cleaned the tub while she showered and cleaned the sink while she brushed her teeth. After she had dusted the computer while waiting for her email messages to download, she wanted to go back to bed. The multitasking was depleting all her energy. She reached into the box of chocolates her boyfriend had given her the previous afternoon.

She couldn’t see WP today. It was Saturday and he would be with his wife and kids. Besides, she had loads to do. They had been together almost a year and they were really happy. The wife still didn’t know, but it was good for two reasons. It bordered on dangerous with WP’s psycho wife, and dangerous meant exciting. Every day she asked herself why she did it, why she put herself out like that, but she came to the conclusion that it was something that made her want to get up in the morning. Everyone deserved happiness, and she would not be happy if she couldn’t be with him.

By the time three rolled around, she was ready for bed. A normal workday for her would not end for another two hours, but she was more exhausted on her day off than she ever was at work. At work she sat behind a desk answering phone calls and playing on her computer.

She grabbed a beer from the fridge and poured it into a large glass she kept in the freezer. Refreshed, she sat at her computer and checked her email again.

“No one wants to talk to me, Carotene,” she said to the orange Siamese fighter that swam around the bowl beside her. “That’s all right, I’m too tired anyway. Who’s going to look after you when I go on holidays? Maybe Grandpa Frank next door? What do you think?”

The website she had bookmarked months back loaded on the screen: spa treatment, massage, swimming, treated like VIP. That was something she was looking forward to, time away with her man. They had been planning it for months: a conference. Well, that’s what WP told his wife anyway. Everything was booked and planned out carefully and she couldn’t wait. Only three more weeks.

She searched for bathing suits online—red ones, blue ones, large ones, and small ones. Revealing or not? Would it matter? He loved her no matter what she wore. He loved her. It made her smile to know there was someone out there that thought about her with a warm feeling inside. He was her family. Her only family.

The buzzer rang and she looked at Carotene.

“Who can it be?” she said lightly. There was every chance WP got away for an hour or two. Had he come to visit?

She went to the intercom and pressed the button. “Hello?”

“Package,” a woman’s voice announced.

“Come up, I’m on the third floor,” Sharon answered.

What could it be? Flowers? More chocolates? He really was most considerate. Shit. She realized she was only wearing her bra and knickers. She quickly ran to her room and put on a thin robe. As the knock sounded at the door, she ran a brush through her matted light-brown hair.

She opened the door and an older woman stood there. She smiled at her and asked, “A package for me?”

The woman just stood there for a moment staring at her.

“Sharon Yoder?”

“Yes?”

Her excitement took her off her guard. She never saw the knife, and it took her a brief span of time to realize that the blade was sticking out of her chest. She never felt pain or registered the fact that the woman was still standing there looking as shocked as she felt. Her past never flashed before her, just the future that would never happen. Before she could utter the name of the man whom she knew would mourn her death, everything went black.

Chapter Thirty-Six

S
ophia ran her finger over Liam’s clean desk. Although he didn’t use the office much, he hadn’t been transferred yet. Now he spent most of his days out in the field. She had only seen him come in once that week and that was for an IT staff meeting. He barely uttered a word and left halfway through. When Sophia tried to ring him, he never answered his mobile.

She was worried about him, but amongst the IT unit her feelings were isolated. No one seemed to care he wasn’t around. One less halfwit around the unit to mess things up. There were moments when Sophia was unsure why she cared. He had caused her nothing but problems and why should she be his go-between? He should have to accept the consequences for his actions, shouldn’t he?

She entered Vincent’s office and sat down. He was signing papers.

“Yes?” he said, not looking up.

“What is Foxton working on?”

“Why do you care?”

“He hasn’t been around the office lately.”

“He’s on assignment, but you should’ve been able to figure that out yourself. So what do you really want?”

“I’m worried about him.”

“Are you? You complain daily about how much he irritates you. Why don’t you ring him?”

“He’s been upset because of the Stewart case. I’m worried he’ll do something stupid. Something that will make this department look bad.”

Vincent put down his pen and leaned back in his chair. “Something stupid? Like what? What do you know?”

“I don’t know what he’s planning to do. That’s why I’m coming to you.”

He sighed. “As far as I know, he’s on the Wilder case. Do you know it?”

“No. But I can get the file from Priestly. Should I check up on him?”

He nodded. “But don’t get in his face. Sometimes the best thing to do is just let them know that you’re there for them. Whatever you do, don’t spend all your time worrying about this. He’s got over his wife’s death in the past and given time, he’s bound to get over it again. If you keep bringing it up, it’ll just take longer. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Sophia went to Crystal immediately and asked for the Wilder case file. Crystal retrieved it but when she returned, she signed, “This is the file, but I don’t think he’s working the case.”

“Why?”

“Because he came into the office with an overnight bag. The Wilder case is a London case. The case Liam is working—and I can’t be sure he’s actually working a case—takes place out of town.”

“Can you trace his mobile or his vehicle?”

Crystal nodded. She went back to her workstation and returned with an address. “I tried to find out where this place is but according to satellite, it’s the middle of nowhere. Liam’s standing in the middle of nowhere.”

Sophia stopped at home before heading out of the city. She had no idea what to expect and Liam wasn’t picking up his mobile. It took five hours for her to reach her destination in the rain. Each minute that passed made her angrier. He expected her to get past her feelings with Marc, but it wasn’t bloody easy.

Guilt hit her. Why was she expecting him to get over a wife’s death? Especially when the killer kept taunting him? The killer didn’t have to face any consequences. She needed to be more understanding.

When she approached the address she had programmed into her GPS, police lights lit up the dark night. What was Liam up to? What had she stumbled across? She pulled out her government credentials. She rarely used them but today she would need it to get past the yellow line.

She was going to ask the officer listing personnel what had happened but she thought she should appear to know or perhaps she wouldn’t be allowed in. The police constable looked closely at her information, pointed in the direction all officers were heading, and lifted the police tape.

“Thank you,” she replied cautiously.

In the dark it was difficult to spot Liam, but finally she caught sight of him standing at the edge of a large hole in the ground. She couldn’t see what the hole contained but from the look of the other officers, it mustn’t be pretty.

“Fourteen,” one officer told another as they went by, toward where she came from, “and we haven’t even started. They must have been using this site for years. I can’t believe we’ve only discovered it today.”

Sophia approached Liam and stood by his side. He didn’t even turn to face her. When she finally mustered up the courage to look down, she saw a mass grave. Bodies wrapped in various types of plastic lay one on top of the other. One by one, the team of pathologists were lifting the bodies onto the ground under a setup tent.

“Who are these people?” she asked Liam.

He turned to look at her. “What are you doing here?”

“You haven’t been answering your mobile.”

“So you thought you should drive out all this way in the dark?”

“Who are these people?”

“The unwanted, Evans. Used and disposed of, like tissue paper.”

“Who did this?”

“Who do you think, Evans?” he said angrily. “Which sick bastard would be capable of killing to this degree?”

Sophia didn’t want to state that she knew plenty of sick bastards capable of this type of genocide, but she figured that would only anger him further. Besides, she knew who he believed the killer was and she didn’t really want to bring that up again, not that Stewart’s evil ways weren’t right before his eyes.

“So do the police have any idea why these people have been killed?”

“Sadly, they were killed because they were valueless. Useless to him. Probably prostitutes that worked for him or his high-end clients, those from Eastern Europe who weren’t here legally and when they weren’t going to make him money, outlived their usefulness.”

“But there are children. They could have been useful adults.”

“I’m sure some of the children are. However not these ones.”

“What makes them different?”

“So far, each child we’ve dug up has been missing organs, multiple ones. What does that tell you?”

“Stewart’s organization has been selling organs?”

“We think so. Unfortunately, a child can’t live without their hearts or their livers.”

“Surely they can’t be selling these. Who would perform the operation?”

“Don’t be naive, Sophia. If you imagine these things don’t happen in Britain, you’re sorely mistaken. Those with money live a lot differently than those without. When they get sick, they are able to buy themselves out of their health condition.”

“I thought that Stewart only involved himself in drugs and guns. How do we know this is his work?”

“He lures them here with the hope of a better life. I wonder how long it takes for them to realize that’s not what they’ll receive? I’ll place my bets that all of the women have drugs in their system at time of death. They keep them high to keep them dependent. Or it wouldn’t surprise me if they believe their family’s lives are in danger unless they obey.”

“How do we know it’s Gikhrist?”

He rubbed his eyes. “I know it’s him, Evans. This is his work.”

Liam’s face didn’t change expression.

A small bony hand fell out of the black plastic it was wrapped in and hung while the men pulled the body from the pit. Sophia put her hand to her mouth. It was so tiny. The hand of a small child.

“That’s one of the children. They’ve recovered five already.”

Sophia wanted to sit down on the dirt because she felt weak, but instead she grabbed at Liam’s elbow to steady herself. He placed his hand on hers.

“He’s not perfect. He’ll make a mistake and when he does, we will get him. I will get him.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

T
heo approached the murder site in Streatham. He met his team at the rendezvous point in the common garden that attached three blocks of flats. The neighbors seemed eager to find the reason behind the excitement in the small fourth floor flat. Not that they hadn’t seen loads of police cars and flashing lights before. Although groups of people stood in the twilight, Theo caught sight of Dorland talking with the coroner.

“Blackwell,” Waynton said, slapping him in the back and sending him forward two steps. “I was reminding my nephew of the time we went fishing up north one summer. He dropped his pole in the water, got naked and dove down to get it, coming up instead with leeches.” He howled loudly, turning the heads of onlookers, who shook their heads when they found his joking manner inappropriate.

Dorland just nodded his head; he was putting on a white protective suit. “I know the story, not sure if I remember it the way you do though. Don’t think I stripped down naked.”

“Ah, Dorland, don’t you worry. My wife has the photographic evidence.”

“Well, in my defense, I was only nine.”

“Twelve, lad, twelve.” With a heave, Waynton made his way into the block of flats.

They followed a plastic sheet laid down from the SOCO van to the door. It had rained during the day and mud had built up underneath.

Dorland said, “Ready for a hike? Four flights of stairs and no working lift.”

As they hiked up the green concrete steps in the dimly lit stairwell to the fourth floor they passed families watching the commotion from their open doors. Dorland filled Theo in on what he knew. “Woman, named Sharon Yoder, in her thirties. Single. Stabbed once. No one seems to have witnessed the murder or anyone unusual leaving the building but the complex here is large and there are people coming and going all the time. Nothing seems to be stolen in her flat, but it would be difficult to tell because we don’t know what she had to begin with.”

“Who found the body?”

“The woman in the flat across the hall said about three or so she heard a thud and then nothing. She dismissed it. But later, as she was binning her rubbish, she spotted Ms. Yoder’s open door and, out of curiosity, went to have a look. She rang the police and the manager of the flats. The door was open and she was lying there in plain view. But because she had the flat at the end of the hall, no one went past by her door.”

Dorland waved to one small girl of three that had a finger up her right nostril and her thumb in her mouth. They had finally reached the fourth floor and headed to the last apartment on the left. A man in his fifties with many keys hanging from his belt met them half way.

“Aye, bad business this. This is the second dead body found in this building in the last six months. Some are beginning to believe the area is dangerous. I say keep an eye on your children and make sure they stay off the drugs. It’s all drugs, you know. That’s ninety percent of the problem, drugs and drink.”

“Do you know if Sharon Yoder had a problem with drugs or alcohol?” Theo asked him.

“Sharon? Not that I know of. But that’s just it, you see, you never can tell. The ones who seem put together, they’re an almighty mess. There are many tenants who live in this complex, and I handle the needs of all of them. If anyone needs work done such as plumbing or electrical or if an appliance needs fixing, I’m their go-to man. Anyway, the few times I spoke with her, she did not say much. She was quiet, worked a lot, not around. I don’t know much else about her. Had a bloke come round once or twice a fortnight but for this block, it’s considered rare. And could’ve been her father or brother, who really knows.”

“So you don’t know the man’s name?”

“No, not even sure of the car, just remember him coming and going a few times from the building and once with her. They were walking side-by-side, not holding hands or anything of the sort. Hard to say if they were a couple or like brother and sister. Now days, it’s hard to say. A woman could visit another woman and they could be a couple, if you know what I mean. We have to be politically correct.”

“All right then, were there any women who visited the flat?”

“Not that I noticed.”

“And the man, was he tall, short, white, black, Chinese? Anything you can tell us would be appreciated.”

“He was white and average height, wore glasses, I think. Dressed normally.”

“What about cameras, any CCTV around the building that we can have?”

The man nodded. “We have nineteen cameras in and around the complex. There’s one in the foyer of each building, for the security of the tenants. And they work. If you had asked me two weeks ago, I would’ve had only six. However, we’ve had a string of robberies and the tenants were beginning to complain, so I had all of them serviced.”

“How secure is the building? Can people just come and go as they please?”

“Not really, no. We have intercoms where the visitors have to ring the tenants, and the tenants let them in using their phone system. The killer, unless they had a key or knew the code to open the door, would have to ring up to the flat.”

“Is there a way we can check to see if someone has buzzed up to Sharon’s flat?”

The landlord placed his hands in his pockets. “The number is not recorded in any way.”

The man had nothing more to say, so Theo dismissed him and they headed on to the victim’s flat. Sharon Yoder lay prone. Her silk robe had fallen open to reveal her bra and knickers. Her eyes were open and staring at the ceiling. She didn’t look like she suffered pain, just shock. Her arms were by her sides and her legs were almost straight out in front of her. And sticking out of her chest was a large black-handled knife.

Waynton huffed and puffed over the body. “Poor, poor girl. She looks so innocent laying here.”

“How could one walk out of the building after stabbing her?” Dorland asked. “Wouldn’t the killer be covered in blood?”

“It looks like our killer is right handed from the angle of the weapon,” Waynton said. “Can’t confirm until I do the autopsy, but it looks like the knife passed between two ribs and punctured her lungs or heart.”

Dorland took a step out into the hall and leaned against the far wall. “This gets to me after a while. She looks a bit like my sister.”

“She does,” replied Theo. “But don’t let that eat at you. And it’s an odd murder, so impersonal. The killer didn’t invite themselves in, didn’t move the body into the flat or shut the door to hide her. It looks like they were trying to do the deed as fast as they could and escape. It all seems random, but it’s not random now is it? I mean, no one randomly picks this flat to stab someone. It’s nowhere near an exit. There’s a greater chance of getting noticed if you walk up three flights of stairs and pick the last door down the hall.”

“I agree. Also, she wouldn’t let someone into the building she felt would do her harm. Most likely the victim knew her killer. Why else would they just walk up to her door and kill her? Or if the victim did not know her killer, the perpetrator probably used the excuse that they had a parcel or a gift and she let them in. SOCO is trying to get fingerprints. Whoever it was probably wore gloves.”

“Well, I hope we catch this bastard.” Dorland adjusted his shoe protectors under his soles and entered the flat

Theo followed his partner inside. The flat was exactly what Theo imagined a young woman’s flat to be: pink and white and full of flower prints. He walked over to a white desk in the corner of her living room and peered into the fish bowl on top. Something would have to be done about the fish. The flat was clean other than the fingerprint dust that now covered various items. The built in shelves held various photos—pictures of people at various weddings and other sunshine-filled events. Theo examined each one.

“Dorland, find me Sharon Yoder’s next of kin, they should be told straight away.” He ran his gloved hand over one of the shelves.

“Yes, sir.”

“She must have cleaned the house lately. Not a speck of dust.”

One of the SOC officers who stood nearby, nodded. “We haven’t found many fingerprints. She must have dusted these within the last day or two.”

“Have any items from these shelves been collected?”

“Not as far as I know. Why?”

Theo stepped back. “So then, what was here?”

SOCO gathered where Theo had pointed. “What was here? You can see the square mark in the wood from something that has been here, and now it’s empty. So what happened to the square item?” He went from shelf to shelf. “And here . . .” Theo pointed to another space. “What was here? I think we’re looking at a robbery.”

Waynton asked, “You think this is a home invasion? Someone murdered her for her knick knacks?”

“The landlord did say many flats had been burgled. Dorland . . .” Theo turned around and searched for his partner.

Dorland exited Sharon’s bedroom. He held his mobile to his ear and was writing in his notebook. “Thank you.” He looked at Theo and held up his book. “I have the address of Sharon’s parents.”

“Great. We’ll go there shortly. In the meantime, I want you to find the landlord and bring him here.”

Theo walked toward a life-sized panther statue sitting beside the desk. The fingerprint dust revealed SOCO had lifted a clear set of prints around the base of the neck. He tried to lift the statue off the floor. “Shit. This thing is heavy. I’ll bet this is expensive. I want the results of the fingerprints from here, ASAP.”

“Yes, sir.” a SOC officer replied.

Theo stepped back out into the hall as Dorland and the landlord rounded the corner. “I want you to tell me about these home invasions.”

“Is that what you think this is? She was murdered as part of a home invasion?”

“I just want to know about the other robberies.”

“They never happened when the home owners were there. No one has been hurt before. Only a few pieces of jewelry and some cash. Nothing more.”

“Where did they happen? Are they limited to this building or have they happened in the other two as well?”

“Oh no, in the other two as well.” The landlord went over to the window in the hall that had a view to the communal gardens below. “There, in the building across on the sixth floor, and in the other building there, on the third floor and the second.”

Theo looked where he was pointing but it had become dark outside.

“What did the police say?”

“We didn’t call the police.”

“Why not?”

“Well, there were only a few things stolen and really, it wasn’t of any value.”

“Were there any witnesses?”

The landlord shook his head.

“Please,” Theo said, “give me a list of the flats that were burgled. I want to interview the owner.”

“They didn’t want to cause trouble.”

“Well, I think there’s trouble now. Perhaps if the police had gotten involved sooner, this wouldn’t have happened,” Theo said angrily.

The landlord nodded and motioned Dorland to follow him. “I have the information in my flat.”

Theo returned to the victim’s flat and again started looking through the rooms. How did the home invasion escalate so fast? Was the home invasion only to hide the murder? Theo shook his head. He was lucky to notice items were missing. In fact, the items may not be stolen at all. Sharon may have thrown them away. As he went through the other rooms, he was less convinced that he was correct. Jewelry was left on the dresser. Some of it looked expensive. Why would they take a couple of things from the front room and leave this? It didn’t make any sense. Not unless the items stolen belonged to the killer. To be sure, he would have to find the culprits.

Dorland returned with the list. “There were five so far, gov.”

“Send some officers to talk to them and find out what happened. I want to know what was stolen. When they think the robberies occurred. Who they think is involved. Do they suspect they came from these flats or from elsewhere? Any information is helpful.”

Dorland left again to give orders.

By the bedside table, Theo picked up a photo of the deceased and a man who wasn’t in any of the other pictures, and in the one Theo held, he was very cozy with her.

“Who do you think that is?” Dorland asked from behind him, almost laying his head on his shoulder. “Lover. Ex-lover?”

“Judging from the fact that it was beside her bed, I would assume they’re still together.”

“The woman had no wedding ring, and she lived with no one. So that could mean that our victim is either dating this man, or has broken it off and is still in love with him.”

“We need to locate him. He may know why she was murdered. He may have done it. Maybe he worked with her.” Theo started going through all the drawers and cupboards while Dorland went through her drawer of knickers.

“I think,” Dorland remarked, holding up knickers with less material than a Barbie bikini, “she was in a relationship.” He moved the knickers over in the drawer and lifted out a small dark blue velvet box, opening the box to reveal a small locket, “
To S.Y. My Love From W.P.
This seems to be from our mystery gentleman. Now we need to find out who W.P. is.”

Theo held up a date book to Dorland, “I think I have a clue, a name, Walter, last week she has written,
Meet Walter at Custom.
”

“Custom? What’s that? Airport? Bus? Maybe she had to meet him at the airport customs, he may travel overseas. Work related, do you imagine?”

“Then why would she write custom and not customs? Meet him at custom, why not write meet him at the airport or something? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Spelling error? Heathrow is a large airport, it makes sense that one would need to be more specific.”

“Then why not say this terminal or that, why customs, we don’t meet people at customs, we meet people at certain gates or luggage areas.”

“Then what do you think it means?” He came over and looked over Dorland’s shoulder at the page. “She obviously understood what it meant and so added no further details. Now it’s our job to decode it.”

A complete search of the house revealed nothing more; there was no Walter on either home phone or mobile. No love letters or documents. The computer contained more pictures of the couple but revealed nothing, nothing to help them place the man. Whomever he was, Theo concluded that Sharon was not going to make it easy for them to find out.

Theo watched the coroner take the body away down the hall and watched as SOCO bagged and labelled various items around the room. He decided that it was not profitable to examine the flat until they had finished so he thought he would go down the hall and help the officers talk to the other tenants. The other officers were assigned the first floor, and were to work their way upstairs in order to give SOCO the time to finish up.