Blood Axe (7 page)

14

‘So what you're
telling me is that you think it might have been the boyfriend after all?' Eileen asked.

Ian suppressed a sigh. He wasn't sure the detective chief inspector was really listening to him. He knew there were many aspects of the case she had to keep in mind, but he did think she could be more attentive when he was discussing a potential suspect.

‘I'm only putting Gary forward as a possibility, but I'm really not sure. If it was that clear cut, we'd have made an arrest already, but it's not that simple. And in any case,' he explained with exaggerated patience, ‘he wasn't Angela's boyfriend. He was just one of the crowd she went around with. She was sixteen.'

Eileen frowned at him. ‘I know how old she was.'

‘He wasn't her boyfriend. He was one of her crowd,' he repeated. ‘But, according to her friend Zoe, Gary was very keen on her. I think that's probably why he was so accommodating about turning up to buy Angela and her friends drinks. He's eighteen, so he could get served.'

‘You don't need to remind me of the law on underage drinking. So – are you saying he's now a suspect? On what grounds?'

‘Opportunity, certainly. He was there in the pub with Angela and her friends. He must have seen her leave, and could easily have followed her.'

Eileen nodded. ‘Do we know if the two of them left the pub at around the same time?'

‘It's hard to say one way or the other because no one seems to have noticed exactly when he left. There was quite a crowd there on Sunday evening. Zoe told us she thinks Angela left alone, but we don't know Gary didn't follow her. He could quite easily have left, if not with her, then shortly after, without anyone noticing. He's not the sort of boy people would notice.'

‘He could have caught up with her. Presumably he would have known her route home.'

‘Exactly.'

‘So he had opportunity. What about motive?'

‘That's a hard one to be sure about, but Zoe said he was crazy about Angela.'

‘So he might have been rejected, disappointed in love?'

‘It's possible,' Ian said.

‘All of which would give him both motive and opportunity.'

‘Yes. In theory, but then the same could be true of Frank Carter.'

‘The stepfather?'

‘He could well have known where Angela was. Her phone records show two calls from his mobile on Sunday evening. He said he was worried about his stepdaughter, but he might have been checking up on her whereabouts for another reason.'

Eileen looked thoughtful. ‘Why would he have wanted her dead?'

Ian shrugged. It was a rhetorical question. There could be a reason.

‘So we have two suspects. Good work, Ian. More to do. Let's see if we can narrow it down to one.'

Ian nodded. Somehow they had to uncover evidence that pointed unequivocally to either Gary or Frank and, with a violent killer on the loose, they had to find it quickly. At the moment all they really had was a strong impression and a bit of guesswork.

‘It had to be one or other of them,' Eileen said.

‘Unless there's someone else involved that we know nothing about. But it was a vicious attack which suggests it was personal.'

‘In all my time I admit I've never come across anything like it. Personal or just plain crazy. Let's hope it wasn't a mugging. We already have two suspects, and that's one too many. Let's see if George can shed any light on all this.'

‘Who's George?'

Eileen gave one of her rare smiles. ‘He's only the best profiler in the business. Bar none. We call him The Wizard. He's coming down from Northallerton. He should be here by midday.'

Ian hoped the profiler warranted her praise. He returned to his desk and reread the statements given by Angela's friends, Gary and Zoe. There were more statements from other youngsters who had been at the pub on Sunday evening. Some knew Angela, others had seen her that evening, laughing and drinking with her friends. Ian couldn't focus on the documents. Leaving Ted to read through the rest of the statements he drove to Micklegate to speak to the bar staff who had been in the pub on Sunday. The landlord hadn't been working that evening. The deputy manager had been on duty. He was behind the bar. The landlord called him over.

‘The inspector wants to talk to you about Sunday evening.'

The other man nodded and joined Ian at a corner table. He looked about thirty, thickset, with a Neanderthal brow and sandy-coloured hair. Ian couldn't imagine there would be much trouble in the pub while he was in charge. The landlord left them to it and Ian showed the deputy a photo of Angela.

‘Yes, yes, I know, the girl that was killed,' Freddy said, frowning at the picture, his eyes all but disappearing beneath his shaggy brows. ‘I don't suppose she looked much like that after what happened,' he added irreverently, ‘if what they said in the papers is true.'

Ian grunted. Somehow the local papers had managed to uncover details about the ‘Axe Murderer' and were vying with each other to tell the story with as many gory details as possible. For once, their melodramatic accounts weren't exaggerating. The girl's head really had been slashed in two.

‘Yes, she was here,' Freddy added. ‘I seen her.'

‘Did you serve her?'

All at once, Freddy looked uneasy. Shifting his bulk from one side to another, he shook his head. The tendons in his sturdy neck stood out as though he was doing something physically strenuous.

‘Freddy, you know what happened to that girl. I need to know what she had in her purse when she left here. So tell me, did she spend any money at all? It's important you tell me the truth.'

Raising his eyebrows in surprise, Freddy glanced over at the landlord who was serving a customer. ‘This goes no further, right? I'm only telling you because of what happened to the poor girl. I'd like to help you catch the bastard. But it's more than my job's worth if the boss finds out I'm telling you this.'

‘Go on.'

Freddy leaned forward. ‘She did come up to the bar, yes,' he admitted. ‘She asked for a pint of cider. I could see she wasn't eighteen, and she was already pissed, so I refused to serve her. I let her have a packet of crisps, though, to save face. That way she didn't have to walk away empty-handed in front of all her mates. Like I said, she was only a kid.'

Freddy sat back, seemingly relieved that he had told Ian about his encounter with the dead girl.

‘One more question. Did she pay for the crisps in coins?'

‘Oh, I didn't take any money off her. I put it in the till myself.' He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘The thing is, I could see she'd had too much to drink. I thought the crisps might help absorb some of it. She was just a youngster. Shouldn't have been in here drinking at all. Not that you can tell these days,' he added quickly, glancing over at the landlord.

Zoe had been adamant they had each been paying for their own drinks. Ian had wondered whether Angela's death had resulted from a mugging that had gone badly wrong, but that didn't add up. A mugger wouldn't have left a fiver in his victim's purse. The more evidence they uncovered, the more likely it seemed that Angela's death had been the result of a personal attack by someone she knew.

15

George was a tall,
thin man with a sharp chin, pointed nose and fluffy white hair. Ian hoped his nickname, The Wizard, had more to do with his skill as a profiler than his appearance. Eileen set great store by him, and although it was early days, they were in need of help in identifying Angela's killer.

‘I've read all the statements,' George said, in a clipped voice. ‘There are a number of interesting features to this case. Forensics suggest an axe was used to kill the victim. What kind of person carries a weapon like that around with them on the street? It's possible the killer had just bought an axe for a perfectly innocent reason, and happened to have it with him at the time, but that seems unlikely at that time of night, so the weapon used suggests the murder may have been premeditated. The aggressive nature of the attack indicates the killer is probably male. The power of the single blow excludes anyone old or frail. All of which suggests we're probably looking for a man, not too old, out on the street at night, carrying an axe, planning a murder. None of this is necessarily the case, of course, but the balance of probabilities suggests such a profile. The target might not have been a specific individual, even if there was an intention to kill. It could have been a random victim.'

Eileen interrupted. ‘Enough people knew the victim's whereabouts at the time of her death so it's possible she knew her killer. At the moment her boyfriend and her stepfather are both potential suspects. Either of them might fit your profile.'

‘Gary wasn't her boyfriend,' Ian corrected Eileen. ‘He was a friend, although according to the victim's girlfriend, he was keen on the victim.'

‘The forensic report indicates a particular type of axe head, curved, and possibly decorated in some way. That's odd, isn't it?' George added. ‘But distinctive? Where, I wonder, would anyone obtain such a weapon?'

Ian nodded. There was something about the profiler that inspired confidence, perhaps because what he said made good sense. His conclusions were pretty much in line with Ian's own thinking. Understandably, both Gary and Frank had strenuously denied owning an axe, or a large blade of any description. So far the investigation hadn't uncovered anything to indicate that either of them was lying. The whole area was being thoroughly searched but there was no sign of the murder weapon. It was time to take a look at where the suspects lived. Ian had applied for search warrants for both properties, and he set off with Ted and Naomi as soon as George had finished.

First they went to Gary's address. He lived with his mother in a street of rundown terraced properties on the outskirts of town. The door was opened by a short, fat woman who greeted them with a worried smile that faded when Ian asked to speak to Gary.

‘Is he in trouble?' she asked.

‘Not yet,' Ian replied honestly, ‘but we'd like to take a look around the house.'

‘Well, I'm not sure…'

‘We have a warrant to search the premises.'

‘What? What are you expecting to find here?'

Naomi stepped forward. ‘It won't take long,' she said briskly. ‘We just need to take a quick look around the house to eliminate Gary from our investigation, and then we won't need to trouble you anymore.'

She made it sound as though searching the house was no big deal, just a routine matter that might happen to anyone from time to time. With a nervous smile, Mrs Farr nodded and gestured for them to enter.

‘Well done,' Ian muttered to Naomi.

She turned to him, with a slightly surprised expression on her face. Feeling as though he had been clumsily patronising, Ian turned to Ted.

‘I'll go upstairs, Naomi downstairs, and you take the garden.'

His colleagues set to work and Ian climbed the stairs with Gary's mother wheezing behind him.

‘What are you looking for?' she demanded breathlessly as they reached the landing. ‘He's not on drugs. He's never done drugs. What do you think you're going to find here?'

Ian reassured her this was merely routine as he asked which was Gary's bedroom.

‘I don't want you going in there, not while he's not here.'

Ignoring her indignation, Ian went into Gary's room. It was long and narrow with barely space for a single bed, a built-in wardrobe, and a small wooden cabinet beside the bed. A thin curtain was drawn across the window. Ian switched on the naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and began his search by opening the door to the cabinet.

‘That's his old phone,' Mrs Farr piped up. ‘He never uses it.'

Ian turned it on. The calls had stopped six months previously, and it had no signal. Ian checked his own phone. He had a good signal. Gary's mother was right. The phone was no longer in use. All the same, Gary had kept it in the cupboard beside his bed. Checking the photos Ian found over two hundred images of Angela. He put the phone in a bag and pocketed it.

‘You can't take that!' Mrs Farr protested.

There was nothing else of any interest in the room, only a packet of cigarettes in the bedside cabinet, clothes, a towel and a pair of trainers in the wardrobe, and an empty duffel bag on the floor which Ian took. It was possible a small axe could have been carried in the bag.

‘What are you doing with that?'

‘We just need to get it checked, and then he can have it back.'

‘What do you mean, checked? I told you, he doesn't take drugs.'

She didn't appear to realise that Ian was conducting a murder investigation. He went downstairs and waited for Ted and Naomi. Their searches had been fruitless. If Gary did own a blade that matched the description of the one used to kill Angela, he wasn't keeping it at home.

‘Does your son own a car?'

‘What are you talking about? He's eighteen. He's at college. Where is he going to get the money for a car from?'

‘What about your car? Does he drive that?'

‘He's insured to drive it, yes.'

‘Has he passed his test?' Naomi asked. ‘Does he ever go out in your car without you?'

Mrs Farr answered no to both questions. ‘Not that I can see it's any of your business.'

‘We'd like to take a look at your car.'

‘What for? What are you looking for?'

There was no sign of the murder weapon in Mrs Farr's car. Disappointed, Ian and his colleagues left. Although he knew better than to allow himself to be seduced into believing theories that lacked hard evidence, Ian had been desperately hoping that they were going to find something incriminating. The photos of Angela on Gary's old phone were suggestive, but they were inconclusive. As they drove away, it didn't help that Naomi joked about finding a bloody axe under the bed.

Their next visit was trickier. Frank came to the door.

‘Keep it quiet,' he warned them. ‘She's asleep. The doctor's given her something, and she's sleeping all the time. I suppose it's for the best, for now. Well, have you found out who did it?'

‘Not yet,' Ian admitted heavily.

This time Naomi's seemingly casual request to look around the house was not so well received.

‘What are you talking about, you want to take a look around?' Frank retorted in a low voice, suddenly red-faced with anger. ‘What the hell do you think you're going to find here? No, I won't have you poking your noses in my house. Your lot have already been here, ferreting about in Angela's room. We've had enough of it. Please just go away and leave us alone. And find out who did it. That's what you ought to be doing, not hanging around here, pestering us.'

Ian spoke very calmly. ‘We have a warrant to search the premises, so it would be best to let us get on with our job quietly. If you're determined to obstruct us, I'm afraid we'll have to remove you.'

‘Remove me? From my own house?' Frank blustered. ‘Oh very well then, if you must. Can you at least tell me what you're looking for?'

‘I'm sorry, we can't tell you that. Now, if you'll let us get on, we can get through this as quickly as possible.'

‘You'd better not wake her up.'

Of course they had to disturb Moira, provoking more protests from Frank, but it was all for nothing. Ian wasn't surprised. While Gary could quite conceivably have kept a murder weapon under his bed, Frank struck him as too clever to be so easily caught out.