Animal Instinct (13 page)

“Really?” said Massey, looking directly into his eyes. “Did you have sex with Lara Crawford last Thursday morning?”

“I told you, Inspector, that I last saw her the week prior to Easter week.”

“Did she refuse to have sex with you, Mr. Howard? Did she spurn your advances? Is that why you murdered her?”

The solicitor leaned forward once again. “Inspector, my client told you that he only learned of Miss Crawford's death from your officers on his return home.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe,” said Massey. “The reports of her murder have been splashed across the front pages of every tabloid and broadsheet, together with headlines on the television news channels since last weekend.”

“I was in London on important business. Newspapers and television are for the bored masses.”

Massey leaned back in his chair. “Were you aware that Lara was pregnant?”

Howard shook his head for a few moments before replying. He raised his eyebrows. “You're joking!”

“This is a serious interview, Mr. Howard. I do not joke. Lara was pregnant. She was on her way to have an abortion. Did you make the arrangements with the clinic?”

“She never said. I would never have guessed.”

“Was it your baby, Mr. Howard? Did you force her to have a termination? Was it against her wishes? Were you angry at the potential loss of your investment if she refused? Did you argue about it on that fateful Thursday morning? Was her death a mistake, an accident? Did you panic and try to cover it up before disappearing to London?”

Howard sat impassively opposite the two detectives. The solicitor leaned across and whispered in his client's ear. He turned towards Massey.

“This is pure conjecture on your part, Inspector. My client denies all these allegations. If you are not in a position to charge him, we would like to leave. My client is extremely tired following his drive from the capital and wishes to retire.”

Massey terminated the interview, hoping that forensics had found some hard evidence to contradict Howard's denial of his involvement in Lara Crawford's murder.

*****

Despite the damp weather, the forensic team completed their examination of the mill and the adjoining land. They arrived back at police headquarters as Howard and his solicitor were on the point of leaving. John Nuttall met with Massey and Roker to update them on their findings. He reported that there was certainly sufficient evidence to connect the mill owner with Lara Crawford, but they had uncovered nothing to incriminate him with her murder. All the forensic evidence merely corroborated the statements made during his interview.

“We extracted samples from the bedrooms, bathrooms and living rooms including carpet fibres, several strands of fair hair, et cetera, but as he has not denied the girl's presence there, I cannot see their value,” said Nuttall.

“The housekeeper mentioned a framed photograph of her in one of the rooms. Were there others?” asked Roker.

“There were several folders of photos dotted about the place, which merely confirms his interest in her modelling potential.”

“Any photos of her naked?” asked Massey.

“None at all. Why, should there have been some?”

“Several artistic poses of her naked were taken at the photo studio. I find it strange that he didn't even have one in his possession. Anything else of interest?” asked the inspector.

“There was a leather shoulder bag containing a few items of ladies clothing, mostly underwear and make-up. I've brought it back to test against her D.N.A. and fingerprints. It could belong to the victim.”

“That's interesting,” said Massey. “That could be the bag which contained her personal items. No money or evidence of owner's identity in it?”

“Just clothes and make-up. We also checked the fir tree boundary line as you suggested and, yes, your assumptions were correct. We extracted quite a number of bin liner shreds from the ground below the firs. I'll have them checked against the samples from the landfill site.”

“Is that it?” asked Massey.

“We lifted from various rooms a stack of paperwork with references to the girl, mostly letters to and from agencies and the like. It may be worth sifting through them. There was also some letters and a brochure from that clinic at Northwich, which she was due to attend.”

“What?” exclaimed Massey. “Where can I lay my hands on that?”

“All the documentation which we brought out is in those cartons.” He pointed to a nearby table. Massey crossed to the large cardboard file boxes, which had been sealed with tape. His expression changed. The hint of a smile spread from the corners of his mouth.

“Not so clever, after all. He lied during the interview,” said Massey triumphantly.

“Lied about what?” asked Nuttall.

Roker answered. “He stated that he was unaware of her pregnancy and, of course, her intended abortion.”

“I think Charles Devlin Howard has some explaining to do,” said Massey.

Nuttall smiled. “You've soon perked up. I had you down as potentially suicidal a few moments ago. Oh, something else which I forgot to mention amid all the excitement. The D.N.A. and chemical analysis results arrived earlier today.”

“And?”

“Not such good news, I'm afraid. The D.N.A, report is a little strange. From the samples, they ascertained that there were two distinct strings to analyse. The results suggested that they were almost identical, but, because of the contamination from the chemical substance, the enzymes had reacted differently. Nothing therefore was conclusive. One matched eighty-five per cent with Lara's hair sample. The other had similarities, but much less of a match. In court, both would be inadmissible as evidence because of the changes caused by contact with the chemical substance.”

“Are you saying that both samples related to Lara?”

“It's possible. Originally, we were certain that the other string was from her assailant, but maybe we were mistaken. Unfortunately the chemicals have clouded the issue.”

“These chemicals,” continued Massey, “what's the score there?”

“The conclusion is that it is some type of cleaning fluid. There were traces of sodium hydroxide and sodium hypochlorite.”

“So who would use something like that?”

Nuttall spread his arms and puffed out his cheeks. “Your guess is as good as mine. Sodium hydroxide is to be found in soaps, detergents, paint stripper, drain cleaner and, in a more diluted form even in wine making, hairdressing and food processing. Take your pick!”

Massey sighed. “What about the other one, sodium hypo-something?”

“Sodium hypochlorite…in other words bleach, or it can be used as a disinfectant agent against bacteria.”

. “So, this weird smell caused by these chemicals, this caustic solution could be found in virtually any domestic or industrial premises?”

“There was something else which may narrow it down slightly,” said Nuttall, smugly.

Massey's face lit up again. “Well?”

“There were also traces of saccharomyces cerevisiae.”

“What the hell is that?” asked Roker.

“It is more commonly known as yeast. Anyone involved with home brewing, beer or wine could use it…or even brewers, wine producers.”

Massey turned away and picked up one of the cardboard boxes. “There are no bloody breweries round here.”

“But there are lots of pubs and, I bet, lots of people using home brew kits. Why not focus on those?”

“Well thanks for the chemistry lesson. I take it that you didn't come across any home brew kits at the mill?”

“Let me know if you find any. I don't mind analysing the odd crate of beer,” said Nuttall.

Massey grinned. “Home brew's far too strong for you. Two pints and you'd be legless!” The inspector walked away, still clutching a box of documents. He turned to Roker. “Grab a box…we've some paperwork to sift through.”

He addressed John Nuttall. “When do I get the full written report?”

“It'll be on your desk tomorrow.” Nuttall checked his watch. “I mean, later today.”

*****

Several months after Sean O’Malley had taken charge of the Barleycorn as the new licensee, two men dressed in smart suits visited D.C. Turner at his home in Middlewich, where he still lived with his fifty two year old mother. He was the youngest of the family. His two sisters were married, the elder to a Scot who was a deputy surveyor with Edinburgh City Council, the other, a primary school teacher, to D.I. Massey. Tragically, his twin brother and father had died together, victims of a motoring accident some years previously.

He recalls that the visit took place on a Thursday evening, partly because his mother always spent Thursdays with friends at the local bingo hall and partly because he enjoyed having the house to himself to watch Question Time on the television. He remained unsure which government agency the two men represented. Even weeks later he could recall only occasional memories, like flashes from a bad dream, such was the dramatic impact of the visit. Were they from Special Branch, M.I.5, or some other obscure wing of national security? Apart from a card containing a telephone number, they had offered no identification to verify their authenticity.

They accurately described the progress of his career in fine detail and explained that he had been selected to carry out a minor surveillance role on their behalf in addition to his normal police duties. They advised him that his future prospects were not only guaranteed but would also be enhanced by his involvement in this special project. Turner was astounded by the amount of information that they held about him. Their demands were simple. He was asked to monitor the activities of Sean O’Malley and to report anything unusual that occurred at the Barleycorn, other than the normal problems and incidents associated with a public house of that repute.

If he needed support to delve into the more private affairs of the licensee, he could rely on a certain Mary Cole, who was now the regular cleaner at the pub. She would be paid a small retainer to pass on any useful information. She would have his mobile phone number but would not be aware of his identity. She would know him as Adam. At that point, one of the men placed a mobile phone on a nearby table with the explanation that it was only to be used in relation to this assignment. He could pass any information from the cleaner or any anomaly discovered by him in the course of his duties via the mobile to the number on the card. It was his call, if he deemed something was a possible threat to national security. No other party would be aware of his undercover role.

They forbade him to discuss their meeting, the content of their discussion or his proposed undercover role with any other party. They presented him with an official secrets act document that he had to sign, whether he accepted their offer or not. They gave him twenty-four hours to consider the proposal. When he had made his decision, he was instructed to call the card number and merely say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. If he accepted, further instructions would be given verbally by phone.

The two men left in a dark saloon. Turner went to his room, lay on his bed in the darkness and eventually fell asleep, mentally exhausted. His mother returned from bingo, made herself hot chocolate and retired to bed. She thought it strange that her son had missed Question Time, but quickly put it out of her mind. Against his better judgement, Turner called the number the next day and said ‘yes’.

*****

The morning following the activity at the mill, Massey called the team in for an early briefing update, despite experiencing a restless night's sleep. He informed the team that he had despatched Detectives Kingdom and Jones to interview the natural mother of Lara Crawford. He went on to explain that Charles Howard was to be arrested on suspicion of Lara Crawford's murder, regardless of having spoken with the Crown Prosecution Service who had advised him that there was currently insufficient evidence to go to trial. However, because of the fact that Howard had lied about his knowledge of the pregnancy, he was certain that other anomalies would be revealed under more intensive interrogation.

He asked the team to complete their house-to-house enquiries by lunchtime. If just one witness could be produced to state that Lara had walked in the direction of the mill on that Thursday morning…that was all, some solid evidence as opposed to logical assumptions.

Roker and a small team left the building to arrest the suspect. Massey returned to his office. There was something ‘bugging’ him, but he was unable to fathom it. He delved deep into his memory bank; no answers were forthcoming. He found John Nuttall's forensic report on his desk. It was hardly compulsive reading as it merely reiterated the previous evening's findings. As he read the manuscript, it suddenly dawned on him what he had missed. He picked up the telephone.

“John, thanks for the report…you must have been up all night. The shoulder bag was definitely hers?”

“Fingerprints on the various items of make-up matched. The clothing was trendy and her size. D.N.A. matches not yet confirmed, but yes, I would say that it was definitely her bag.”

“Great,” said Massey. “The contents must have been put together in preparation for an overnight stay at the clinic. With regard to your analysis of the chemical substance, were any traces found amongst the containers in the shed?”

There was a moment's silence. “What shed?”

“There was a garden shed behind a privet hedge. It adjoined a large vegetable plot.”

“Sorry, mate. We must have missed that in the darkness and the pouring rain. We checked out the top of the banking like you suggested, but, I'm sure that there was no mention of a shed.”

“My fault,” admitted Massey. “We should have told you about it. The gardener keeps his equipment in there and D.C. Turner was adamant that there were several containers of weed killer and similar treatments on a shelf. It may be worth checking the contents against your results from the bin liners. D.S. Roker's down there now with some of the team. We're bringing Howard in on suspicion.”

“You believe there's sufficient evidence?”

“C.P.S. isn't very happy, but, if Charles Howard can tell one lie, you never know what other info he may be withholding. Finding the bag has helped. If you can find a match from the chemicals in the shed, it'll certainly add more weight to the case against him. Any chance of you going over there now, whilst the team's at the mill?”