The Visitor (#3 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) (33 page)

“Well done. OK, I won’t speak to him now then. Check his alibi, then notify him that Murdock’s been found and watch his reaction. Don’t give him any more detail than that. Greenwood and McAllister have to be high on our suspect list now, so let’s get their D.N.A.s please. Give Mercer some grief and then let him go - I’ll call his editor on my way back.”

Liam’s face lit up at the thought of giving Mercer and Tommy Hill a hard time. This was his sort of day. Just as they reached the cordon a short man with a builder’s tan and a cigarette in his mouth approached them.

“Here, when’ll you lot be finished? We’ve a fairground to set up and it has to be ready for testin’ tomara. None of them kids will come near us on Friday if you lot are here. An’ the funfair pays us for the year.”

Liam loomed over him, disdain flitting across his face. Then he said, as quietly as he ever could. “Well, here’s the thing, mate. It’ll take as long as it takes. And if you think the cops will put people off, a corpse will do it even quicker.”

Instead of the shock he was aiming for, the rigger just shrugged and sucked on his cigarette, all sarcasm wasted on him. Not my problem mate.

***

Tommy was his usual charming self, no-commenting his way through every question. So after ten minutes Liam gave up, deciding to leave him to Craig. He’d have a go at Mercer instead.

Ray Mercer shifted on the hard interview-room chair, trying to get comfortable. He yawned loudly, knowing that someone was watching on the other side of the wall and drew his middle finger pointedly up his face.

He was thin, dark and angular, with a nose that his mother called Roman and others called hooked. He didn’t mind what they called it. The severity of his look served him well, putting the fear of God into interviewees and editors alike.

He didn’t care if people loved him as long as they paid him. And as long as he could write what he wanted 24/7. He was good at what he did and it wasn’t a popularity contest. He tapped his finger pointedly against his watch mouthing ‘time is money’ to the wall. Following it with another middle finger in the air, and ‘charge me or let me go.’

Liam stood on the other side of the mirror with his arms folded, watching. He hated journalists, except for Davy’s wee lassie Maggie; she was all right. The concept that you had to ask them not to print things that could prejudice an investigation was completely beyond him. But most of them responded to a gentle warning and a raised eyebrow, scuttling off back to their offices to play nice. Not Mercer. He was the lowest form of scum and endowed with giant cojones. Even his best menace didn’t work on him.

After five minutes watching Liam pushed open the interview-room door. He grabbed the chair nearest it, turning it around and leaning abruptly across its back. He was a good foot taller than Mercer and that, combined with his megaphone diplomacy, normally did the trick on everyone. He thought it was worth a try, not holding out much hope.

When he’d finished shouting, Mercer smirked, as if to say ’is that all you have?’ And Liam could feel his fist curling under the desk. Five minutes alone with no witnesses was all he needed. Then Mercer would be writing cookery tips for beginners. But he knew it would never happen, so he bit his tongue and re-started the warning in his coldest, deepest tone.

“Mr Mercer. You know why you’re here.”

Mercer yawned open-mouthed and then sat staring at Liam in silence. After a moment he shrugged. “You want me to say that I’m a bad little journalist? OK then, I’m a bad little journalist. You want me to say that I buy information? OK, I buy information. You want me to tell you who I buy it from? There I draw the line.”

He smirked so arrogantly that Liam wanted to reach over and smack him one. Then he restarted in a faux–noble tone that implied integrity. He probably thought integrity was a country in South America.

“A journalist never reveals his sources, Inspector, but there are plenty of them in the force. They don’t pay you guys enough, so earning a bit on the side appeals to plenty of your colleagues. And I pay well.” He smiled provocatively “You’ve a new baby, haven’t you? Maybe you’d like to earn a bit more sometime?”

That was Liam’s limit. Not the offer, but the mention of his family. How the hell did Mercer know about them? Before he could stop himself he was across the room, looming over Mercer with his fist clenched. The unflinching look on the hack’s face dared him to cross the line.

At that moment the door opened and Craig walked in. He said nothing, just stared at the journalist as if he was something he’d stepped in. Liam glanced at Craig, then at Mercer, and backed off. He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

Mercer stared coolly at Craig. “You’re my witness, D.C.I. Craig. That was police brutality.”

Craig half-smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr Mercer. I just came in to say you’re free to go.”

“Come off it Craig! You saw it. I want you to charge him.”

Craig shook his head gently. “It will be a cold day in hell before that ever happens. Now get out. And you’re on a warning, Mr Mercer. If I see you at a crime scene you’ll be lifted. I’ve already given your editor the message.”

He shot Liam a warning look and then they left the room together, leaving Ray Mercer to find his own way out. On clear notice not to mess with the thin blue line.

***

4pm.

Craig walked into the briefing to find everyone already assembled, the buzz in the room telling him that they’d heard about the body.

“Right. You’ll all have heard about today’s events. We’ll come back to those in a moment, but let’s do a general update first. Annette, can you start us off please.”

“OK, the death records. Since Mr Murdock joined the Unit in 2006 they’ve had a lot of complaints about too many Caesareans and his rudeness. But there was nothing much else. There are only two other deaths that could possibly fit our case. The first was in 2007. The lady was a known diabetic and she made a complaint about Murdock’s bad manners weeks before she died. But Beth wasn’t the midwife on her case. She wasn’t even working in the Trust then.”

“Did the patient have a Caesarean at any point? Before or after death?”

“No.”

“Then let’s rule her out for now.”

Annette was about to ask something, but Craig gently motioned her on.

“The second case happened in March 2008. It was a young woman who had an emergency Caesarean. She bled to death on the operating table.”

“What happened to the baby?”

“It survived, sir.”

“Was Murdock the consultant?”

“Yes, and Beth was the midwife.”

Craig sat forward urgently. “Was the baby a girl? And was the mother a known diabetic?”

“Yes, the baby was a little girl. But no sir, she wasn’t a diabetic. Although there’s a vague note referring to some Insulin two days before her death. The case-file is pretty vague overall, and the drug charts were being stored in the pharmacy for some reason.”

“What was her name, Annette?”

“Melissa Pullman.”

“Right. Annette and Martin - gather everything you can find on Ms Pullman. Get the drug charts and operation notes and start digging into her background. Anything you can find. Where she was born, parents, was she married, what did she do for a living? And the baby. Where is it now? And very importantly, who’s the father? Get her post-mortem and ward notes, and any complaints against hospital staff. Anything and everything. Copy it all to Dr Winter and me urgently. And speak to the Trust Medical Director to see what help he can give you.” He paused briefly. “But don’t involve Charles McAllister please.”

Annette shot Craig a questioning look, but he was pre-occupied, thinking. This was their link to the killer, he was sure of it.

The rest of the briefing was spent on the interviews with Tommy’s men. Then Liam read out the report John had sent through, on the D.N.A. patch from Evie’s forehead. “No match with Brian Murray. He’s in Scotland, but he was happy to give a sample to the local cops. And no match on the Reverend Kerr either. We’ll get it tested against Tommy’s crew next - we already know that Tommy’s in the clear.”

“I don’t think we’ll get a hit from any of them, and it definitely wasn’t Murdock. What’s Murray doing in Scotland, Liam?”

“Basically, he’s scared shitless of Tommy, boss. It seems Tommy never approved of Evie’s choice of hubbie. And the word’s out that he’d cheerfully do for Murray, now that she’s dead.”

“Ask him to come back please, Liam, the Kerrs are the only family he has. He needs their support, and his daughter needs him. Tell him Tommy’s locked up at the moment and we’ll warn him off. Right. Forget Tommy’s crew for now, we need D.N.A.s from Greenwood, McAllister, Iain Lewes and Michael Randle for elimination.” Liam smiled at the mention of Lewes name, the boss hadn’t ruled him out completely then. Craig was still talking.

“We don’t want the prosecution’s well poisoned by cutting corners, so make sure you get a warrant for anyone who won’t co-operate. I’m not handing them a mis-trial down the line on some technicality. Judge Standish is good for warrants, and he doesn’t mind being contacted at home. He lives out in Moira. Davy, can you check if the D.N.A. matches anything on the databases, please?”

“Dr W…Winter’s already checked, but the answer’s no.”

Craig rubbed his hand across his face. “OK. Liam, anything more on Michael Randle?”

“Well he’s a violent wee bugger, even carries a knife to work. He’s also had a bust for skunk. But he couldn’t have killed Murdock, boss. I held him all weekend on possession of the knife. And I really can’t see him for Evie. Surely our killer has to be brighter than Randle? He’s a real ‘equal rights for bricks’ case.”

“OK - but we could be looking at two people working together, and he had the skill and access to arrange electrical failures. Greenwood and McAllister have as well. McAllister let slip he was an engineer before he went into management. Check Randle’s knife and all their D.N.A.s anyway, and get all their alibis from Sunday until today checked please.”

“I can tell you where Moya Murphy says Greenwood’s been since last Friday. In Dublin at some conference.”

“Let’s get him back, then.”

Craig updated them on Murdock’s gruesome demise, the detail of the abdominal incision shocking everyone. Annette understood now why only Melissa Pullman’s case fitted. Craig grabbed a marker and started writing on the board.

“The Caesarean is a common theme. We don’t know yet if Murdock was drugged or with what, but he’s a big man. So unless he was subdued somehow, I’m certain he would have fought back, and there’s no sign of defensive wounds. My money’s on the Insulin/Pethidine cocktail being in his blood stream. Maybe Cocaine as well. Or maybe that was just window dressing to tell us something specific about him. It’s unlikely the killer gave him a snort just to make him feel better, so the coke scattering is definitely significant. It’s staging of some sort. And when we find it, the location of the primary scene will have importance as well.”

“To Murdock, boss?”

“Or his killer. Murdock was bound, incised and left face-down to bleed out through his abdominal wound. He was clothed for part of the time they had him - the restraint marks show that his socks protected his ankles from the binding. He was probably stripped sometime after death but before Rigor was complete at twelve hours. He most likely bled to death, but John wants to rule out other methods. I doubt that Carotid occlusion will show up in Murdock, it’s much too kind a way of killing. I think that’s why our killer used it for Evie. The killer was cool enough to kill Murdock, and keep him somewhere for at least six hours for Lividity to set in. Then he moved him before full Rigor and displayed him naked on his back for maximum effect. Somewhere that he’d be found quickly. Indicating humiliation?”

Annette interjected hesitantly. “Violation maybe, sir?”

Craig nodded. Yes. Violation. That was it.

“Leaving him somewhere to bleed out, means that he was confident that Murdock
wouldn’t
be accidentally found there. So we’re looking for a primary scene with a lot of privacy. Somewhere that the killer knew he wouldn’t be disturbed. Somewhere he has a degree of control of, and is very familiar with.”

“Excuse me, sir.”

Craig turned from the whiteboard and saw Martin leaning forward, eagerness written across his round young face. He’d learned not to raise his hand now.

“Yes, Martin?”

“Could Murdock’s death be the killer copying what Murdock did to someone he loved? Did Murdock do this to a relative of the killer, sir?”

Craig nodded. “Yes. That’s why the Melissa Pullman case could be so important. I know Beth has also been common to all the cases, and that helped on timing as she’s only been back here since 2008. But I’ve said it before - we can’t get complacent on that. There could be deliberately false trails here, and Beth’s presence in all of the cases could be one of them.

Perhaps Melissa Pullman was the pivot, and perhaps the killer’s using Beth’s presence deliberately, to point us to cases since 2008. They may want us focusing on more recent cases in the same way they wanted us to know that Evie was definitely murdered. Or, conversely, they could be deliberately pointing us away from an older case. If we think laterally, now that Mr Murdock has been murdered we can be sure he was one of the main pivots. So the worst case scenario is that, as he was a doctor for thirty years, a surviving child could be thirty now. Old enough to kill.”