Urge to Kill (1) (35 page)

‘You’ve been watching Spooks again. Let’s see if we can persuade her first.’

Jenny gave the briefing a textbook quality. She knew exactly what she wanted and expected, so interrupting the flow was not well received. She was about to wrap up, and Matt was surprised she hadn’t mentioned the drowned woman. He could feel Sam looking at him.

‘Can I just ask if we are following up on the woman in the river? DI Hadden,’ he added for good measure.

‘For what purpose?’

‘That she has similar marks on her neck as our victims.’

‘And drowned, Inspector Turrell. Drowned.’

‘So the killer could have been disturbed.’

‘Or she could have been indulging in some form of sex play. You are a big boy, so you do know the kind of things that go on, don’t you, Inspector?’

Matt was tempted to retort but held back. It was not going to help to lose her cooperation. So, for the moment, he just nodded and smiled.

‘And, Inspector, I need you back here for this stupid meeting with the owners of the spa. Four-thirty sharp.’

After Jenny had given the team their jobs for the day, Matt went over to Sam, trying to avoid Fluff with whom he had been paired for the day. Sam was to go back to the spa with Grant.

‘That was low, Guv.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a mate at Stratford. I’ll give him a call, see if he can tell us anything. I’ll call you later. Oh, and take your car just in case.’

Matt didn’t want to put Fluff in an awkward position, since she would want to be loyal to Jenny. He had already compromised her over the bikes.

As they set out to conduct more interviews, one of them Mrs Mooney, she sighed. ‘What are you up to?’

‘Me?’

‘Don’t pretend, Matt. I saw you and Sam with your heads together.’

‘Oh that.’

‘It’s the suicide isn’t it?’

‘Yes. I think we should follow it up.’

‘I agree,’ Fluff said.

‘You do?’

‘Not much we can do about it, though. Unless you had something in mind?’

‘Not really. Thought I might ring Ned Collier at Stratford, that’s all.’

‘Well, get on with it.’

Matt laughed. He should have known he couldn’t fool Fluff. Ned was on duty and promised to see what he could find out.

Meanwhile, their next stop was Mrs Moony, the masseur, who had been away on Sunday and Monday. It was disappointing that she was unable to give them any new information. She confirmed that Mrs Draper had been with her for about fifteen minutes and that Clive had not stayed with his Mother, adding, rather wistfully, that she wished her own son was as caring.

Their next stop was back at En Jay’s, where Gloria told them that Mr Draper was taking his Mother out for the day and so wouldn’t be in. When pressed as to whether the day off had been booked in advance, she was cagey and said she believed so.

‘He charms them all, doesn’t he? She was lying her socks off.’ Fluff took her frustration out on the lift button.

‘Evading the truth certainly.’

‘How stupid can women be?’

‘They fall for our natural charm of course.’

Matt dodged the expected blow from Fluff.

It was after they had stopped for a quick sandwich that Ned rang.

‘Your young lady is, or was, Anne Clarke, of 5 Sandhill Close, Shipston. Her documents were pretty soggy but we think that’s right. Mobile phone waterlogged. Uniform have been to that address today but there is no answer, so she could have lived alone. No luck with the neighbours, all working I guess. We’re doing some further checking—see if she lives with anyone.’

‘Thanks, Ned. I owe you.’

‘Well, you could introduce me to that new wife of yours. Never thought you would go legal, not with all the young ladies who throw themselves in your direction.’

‘I’m a changed man, Ned. Wait until you meet her, then you will understand. Let’s meet up for a drink one day soon.’

As he put the phone down, Matt realised he was faced with a dilemma. He should go back to Jenny with this information. But she had been adamant this morning that they would be wasting their time, and he didn’t fancy trying to change her mind.

Looking at the address, Matt could see that Sam was the nearest. He would be able to get there from the spa in five minutes, and Matt knew he would be up for it. Fluff made up his mind.

‘Oh get on with it. You know he’s dying to do something naughty.’

Matt laughed and dialled Sam but was disappointed to get put through to voice mail. He was wondering what to do next, when the phone rang.

‘Hi, Guv. Grant was right beside me, so I thought it best to lose him. Do we have lift-off?’

‘Not unless you are Biggles. We do have a name and address for the young lady, though. Uniform went there earlier, no answer. As it is close to you, thought you could give it a try.’

‘Great. I’ll think up a cover story for sour chops.’

‘We’ll text you the details.’

‘Get back to you as soon as I can, Guv.’

‘Good.’

The afternoon dragged on. No useful information was gained from the next two people interviewed. Matt looked at his watch; it was time to start heading back to CID for the meeting. He wasn’t looking forward to being in a position where his opinion wouldn’t pull any weight. That was down to Jenny now.

Why hadn’t Sam called? Matt turned the car to go back to base, when his phone trilled. He stopped and put it on speaker for Fluff to hear.

‘Guv. This is too much of a coincidence. She worked at En Jay’s.’

‘Good God.’

‘I couldn’t believe it either. She’ll have to listen now.’

‘I hope so, Sam. Bloody good work.’

‘Grant thinks I’ve got the trots. Had to go back twice. Then her housemate came home from work. So bingo.’

‘Must go, Sam. Well done again.’

Matt looked at Fluff.

‘You will have to tell her, Matt.’

‘I know. I’m just composing my argument.’

‘Good luck.’

At least she didn’t demand to know where he had got the information but she remained resolute that they didn’t have enough information to pick up Clive Draper.

‘It’s all circumstantial. He was on the scene of both murders, yes. He also works at the same place as a suicide victim. We have no DNA or witness statements to link him to the crimes. What do you want me to do, Inspector, put out an APB? Suppose he is on a day out with his elderly Mother, and we surround him with cop cars and drag him off. We might just give her a heart attack? Have you thought of that?’

Matt was trying to stay calm. ‘With respect, we risk him committing another murder, Ma’am.’

‘I’ll take that risk. Yes, we will question him again in the proper manner, even invite him to come down to the station. Right now, I need you here for this meeting. Understood?’

‘Ma’am.’

Fluff patted his hand. ‘She’s doing what she thinks is right.’

‘Doesn’t make it any easier though. He could be out there now watching his next victim.’

‘We’ve just got time to try Clive’s house again.’

Matt was surprised. ‘You sure you are up for it?’

‘Yes, come on let’s go.’

The journey was frustratingly slow, as the build up to rush hour had started. Then they arrived at Clive Draper’s house to find that no one was home, so the whole exercise was disappointing.

Already late for the meeting, Matt drove back to CID knowing he would have to face Jenny’s wrath.

Deciding to keep Fluff out of the line of fire, he gave her twenty pounds and suggested she pick up a book or two for Eppie on her way home.

CHAPTER 53

O
nce Eppie had dressed and showered, she let the sun flood in, pulling the curtains exactly as Jane had shown her. She couldn’t resist a brief glance across the fields. Most of the leaves had fallen now, and the trees all had a deep ring of golden brown at their base. Eppie wished she could go out for a walk, since autumn was her favourite season. She loved the leafy, earthy smell that took her straight back to childhood. At this time of year, the excitement of Bonfire night would be looming, and she and Mike would be collecting wood and making a Guy.

With a sigh, she began the hunt for breakfast. The fare was slim, narrowing by the day, but at least Fluff had asked her to write a grocery list, so there might be hope of replenishment soon.

The morning dragged on, so declining to be seduced into watching daytime TV, Eppie wrote down the most needed grocery items. So much was needed, but she didn’t want to make it too expensive for Fluff—Jane, she reminded herself—since she wasn’t sure what happened in these cases. Would Jane get expenses for having her here? She decided to keep to the basics.

Afterwards, she returned to her notebook and the list of suspects. Even if the professionals were not interested, at least she felt that she was doing something.

It took a while to reach Clive Draper, who was near the bottom of the list, one above Mr Squires as the most unlikely of suspects. She tried to remember everything about him from whenever he had come to the desk.

He had been pleasant and chatty, seemed interested in why she had taken the job. Then he said something about not wanting to do the same job as his father and mentioned
square bashing
. Something soldiers did.

Soldiers.

The little model soldier had attacked them in their own flat. It was a slim link but it was a start. She shut her eyes and began to visualize every detail of Clive’s visits.

On Friday, he had asked her about arranging a massage for his mother. She had been unable to help him; so, while waiting for Sandi, they had chatted briefly, although Eppie was ready to turn away. Looking back, it was as if he wanted to keep her talking.

When Sandi was free, she suggested that Eppie should stay to learn how to answer such a query. So Eppie had relaxed and watched as Sandi took a blue book from one of the pigeonholes behind her. At the thought of Sandi, Eppie felt her eyes filling up. She was such a lovely person to have in the world.

‘Do you think your mother would prefer a male or a female therapist, Mr Draper?’ Sandi asked.

‘I‘m sure she would be more comfortable with a lady.’

As Sandi ran down the list, Clive had leaned right over the counter following her as she suggested different therapists. Was there anyone he had given special attention to?

There were a couple of new therapists and, thinking about it, he had seemed quite interested in them. But when Sandi had said that one of them was a man, his attention had switched to the other. She had a funny name; Eppie tried but couldn’t recall it, although she was sure it began with an M. All that Eppie could remember was that she worked from Friday to Tuesday evenings from six to nine.

Clive had made sure he read all M’s details for himself including when she worked and the hours. Then he changed his mind and decided that his Mother would prefer an older woman and had settled on Mrs Mooney. Now, looking back, his behaviour seemed suspicious.

Bursting to discuss her ideas with someone else, she wondered if she should call Matt. Deciding against disturbing him and not wanting to appear silly, she took out the little card the Sergeant had given her, but there again, was this important information, or would she be wasting his time? She decided to wait until Fluff came home and put her notebook with the grocery list on the kitchen table, anchored down by the biscuit tin. Clive Draper was now marked with a red star.

Lunch was a glass of milk and a biscuit. Afterwards, feeling restless, she tried one of Fluff’s exercise CDs before resorting to daytime television. It was only when the buzzer rang that she realised she had nodded off.

Under strict orders not to answer, she couldn’t resist peeking through a tiny space at the edge of the curtain. A white delivery van was outside and, as she watched, the driver was walking back towards it. He had no parcel in his hands so someone, probably Mrs Williams, must have taken it in.

Eppie was longing to get out of the flat if only for a few moments. Surely, it couldn’t hurt to go down and collect the parcel? Going to the front door, she listened. All was quiet, so she opened the door an inch; then, feeling a bit silly at being so cautious, she opened it farther and went out to the top of the stairs. Halfway down she stopped as Mrs Williams’ door opened.

‘Oh, there you are, Dear. Jane said she has a visitor. I was just going to bring this up. Would you like to take it?’

Mrs Williams was carrying a square box. Eppie hesitated, thoughts of bombs or poison running through her head. But the box looked light and innocent. Mrs Williams carried it with ease as she came up the stairs towards her. There was nothing Eppie could do but reach out and grasp it.

‘Thank you for taking it in.’

‘No trouble at all, Dear.’

The parcel was a box wrapped in brown paper. The printed label said Mrs E. Turrell at this address. It must be from Matt. Maybe he had sent her something to read. Bless him. Amidst all the things he was worrying about he had thought of her. She couldn’t wait to see what his tastes would be. Tearing aside the wrapping, Eppie took the lid off the box inside.

Lying in the bottom of the box, staring innocently up at her, was a doll. Its cloth body was contorted to fit into the space giving it a tortured look. It didn’t seem to have a neck, but then Eppie realised that around its neck a red ribbon was tied so tight it looked as if the head might drop off at any minute.