Destruction of Evidence (28 page)

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Authors: Katherine John

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BOOK: Destruction of Evidence
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‘What about the murderer’s clothes?’ Carol asked.

‘We found fabric ashes in the attic and bedrooms. There’s evidence of bloodstains but not enough to determine type or extract DNA. Wardrobes had been emptied and fires lit, destroying most of the clothes. It’s possible the murderer burnt his clothes together with the Pitchers and left the house wearing their clothes. But it would be impossible to prove what, if anything was missing even if we had a list of the victims’ clothing because there isn’t enough left to determine what was burned. So, there’s no evidence that the killer burned his clothes and walked away in those of his victim but neither is there evidence he didn’t.’ Ted spoke in the careful pedantic manner of a scientist accustomed to dealing with police pressure.

‘What about Larry Jones’s clothes?’ Carol asked.

‘I examined them and found no blood stains, other than on the bag containing the jewellery. That blood is Lee Pitcher’s. The only fingerprints on the bag were Larry Jones’s,’ he added.

‘Wouldn’t Larry Jones’s clothes have been bloodstained if he’d killed the Pitchers?’ Carol ventured.

‘I examined Larry’s clothes and found no blood stains,’ Ted reiterated. ‘Anyone who rained the blows on Lee Pitcher would have been spattered with his blood. One of my assistants checked with the prison Larry Jones was released from that morning. When you arrested him he was wearing the same clothes he’d worn on his release. Those are the facts.’

‘Have you found any evidence that could convict Larry Jones, Mr Gant?’ Frank Howell asked.

‘We found Lee Pitcher’s blood on the plastic bag containing the jewellery in Larry Jones’s pocket. Nothing else.’ Ted coughed.

Trevor poured him a glass of water from the jug on the table and handed it to him.

‘Nothing?’ Frank repeated.

‘Nothing,’ Ted repeated. ‘You will have to wait for Patrick Kelly’s report to establish cause of death but I can show you the positions the corpses were found in.’ Ted flicked through the slides until he came to a graphic close-up of Gillian Pitcher’s body. ‘Mrs Pitcher’s body isn’t as charred as her head because whoever wrapped her in paper and set fire to her piled a duvet and bedspread from the bed on top of her body. Both acted as fire blankets and smothered the flames. Blood splashes indicate that, just as her sons were, she’d been beaten about the head, shoulders and torso. You may ask me questions about the rooms and the blood spray but not about the victims’ injuries. They are in Patrick Kelly’s jurisdiction. For the record we also found smudges in the bedroom, but no alien prints, which suggest gloves were worn.’

‘Were the bedrooms cleaned like the attic and bathrooms, sir?’ Paula Rees asked.

‘Bleach had been poured on the carpets around the bodies and in the doorways, one theory – and there is no proof to substantiate it – the purpose was to dilute bloody footprints. Alun Pitcher’s blood was found on the landing.’ Ted flicked through the slides again until he came to the photograph he wanted. ‘Next to the stain is the weapon that killed him. A Victorian bronze of the Roman Dying Gaul. From the position of the body the most likely scenario is that Alan Pitcher was hit with the bronze as he entered the attic. The blood could well have come from the bronze as it fell outside the door.’

‘Was the bronze thrown or brought down with force?’ Reggie asked.

‘That’s a question for Patrick Kelly.’

‘But the blow killed him?’ Jim Murphy asked.

‘Again, that’s for Patrick Kelly to ascertain. The attic and the last two corpses.’ Ted paused to allow the collective gasp to die. Over familiarity with gruesome crime and accident scenes hardened officers and forensic scientists. But Lee Pitcher’s corpse was barely recognisable as human.

‘Questions?’ Ted flicked through the close ups.

‘Were they alive when they were burned, sir?’ Tony Sweet stammered.

‘That’s for the pathologist to determine, Constable.’

‘You’ve found no evidence to suggest that anyone other than family entered the house that night?’ Carol asked soberly.

‘Other than the obvious, no,’ Ted replied.

‘The obvious,’ Carol reiterated.

‘The Pitchers couldn’t have inflicted the injuries on themselves because all four bodies were wrapped in brown paper and string. Therefore we have discounted a triple murder and suicide scenario.’

Trevor asked the next question but he didn’t look at Ted. Instead he scanned the faces of the officers around him. ‘Did whoever murdered the Pitchers deliberately clean all evidence from scene?’

‘Someone certainly scoured the crime scene, yes,’ Ted answered briefly.

‘How long would you estimate it would take one person to do that?’

Ted hesitated. ‘Difficult to answer. We’ve found traces of bleach on several surfaces, including, as I’ve already said, the shower, bathroom, outside rails of the fire escape and balconies and some of the internal stair rails and walls. In my opinion – and it is only an opinion – I would say that it would have taken one person with considerable scientific knowledge at least two hours to clean the bathroom and inside stair rails alone. And that’s without taking the other things into account.’

‘Like wrapping the bodies and setting the fires. How long would that take?’ Trevor persisted.

‘One person acting alone, I’d say another two hours.’

Trevor referred to the timeline. ‘When Michael Pitcher and his girlfriend Alison left the Pitcher house at midnight, his parents and brothers were alive.’

‘Can we be sure of that, Inspector?’ Ted Gant played devil’s advocate.

‘Tim Pryce and Ken Lloyd saw Alun Pitcher throw a set of keys down to Michael Pitcher a few minutes after midnight. All three appeared normal and neither Ken nor Tim saw bloodstains on Michael or Alison’s clothes. So to answer your question, Mr Gant, yes, we can be sure that all four Pitchers were alive at midnight. And no one reported anything suspicious until Ken Lloyd saw flames in the attic of the Pitcher house around three o’clock.’

‘Which means that all four Pitchers were murdered, the crime scene cleaned and the fires set in three hours,’ Ted mused.

‘So Larry Jones must have had an accomplice.’ Frank was clearly reluctant to relinquish Larry Jones’s status as prime suspect.

‘I suggest you run that past Mr Gant, Sergeant.’

‘Given the time-frame, I’d suggest that more than one person was involved in the crime, more than that I cannot say,’ Ted answered cautiously.

‘The only person in custody is a man who was drunk and unconscious at midnight and still asleep when he was found at 4.40 a.m.’ Trevor rose to his feet. ‘Are there any more questions for Mr Gant?’ He looked around the room. When no one spoke, he offered Ted his hand. ‘My thanks to you and your team for a professional job.’

Ted switched off the projector and closed his laptop.

‘I’ll visit the house again later if I may,’ Trevor added.

‘We’ll expect you,’ Ted left the room.

‘Larry Jones could have worn one of the Pitcher’s coats when he killed them,’ Damian argued. ‘So I don’t know why we’re bothering to look for anyone else when we’ve got him in custody. I’ll grant we may need more evidence than the jewellery…’

‘I’d like to remind you, Constable, and all the rest of you, that even a Garth Estate Jones is innocent until found guilty. And, we have no hope of convicting Larry on the evidence of the jewellery alone. As you know, Larry Jones insists it was planted on him, and without bloodstains on his clothes that argument could stand up in court.’

‘You saw him being searched, Super…’ Frank began.

‘I did, but who’s to say who was with him or what happened before the fire officers found him in that outbuilding,’ Reggie interrupted.

‘You have the timeline. You’ve seen photographs of the crime scene. You’ve copies of the witness statements. Take a few minutes to go through them,’ Trevor ordered.

Everyone obediently and diligently turned to their files.

Trevor waited ten minutes before speaking again. ‘Anyone have any comments?’

‘Has the figure Ken Lloyd saw on the fire escape outside the Pitcher attic been identified, sir?’ Paula asked.

‘No.’

‘There was only one figure?’ Jim checked.

‘Ken Lloyd only saw one,’ Trevor confirmed.

‘Do we know if the murderer or murderers entered by the fire escape?’ Paula asked.

‘You heard Ted Gant. The outside rail was cleaned.’

‘Right down to ground level, sir!’ Tony exclaimed.

‘The entire length was examined and nothing found.’ Trevor sat back in his chair. ‘I know you’ve all been out and about interviewing potential witnesses. Have any of you come up with sightings you haven’t yet written into the files; no matter how trivial or apparently innocent?’ Greeted by silence, Trevor added. ‘Nothing within a half mile radius of the Pitcher house between midnight and 3 a.m.?’ He looked around expectantly. ‘Nothing?’ he reiterated.

He shuffled his papers together. ‘Back to work everyone.’

CHAPTER TWENTY

The briefing ended, Tony Sweet returned to his desk and Peter and Trevor went to their office. Trevor dropped his briefcase on his desk and sat down. ‘Shut the door.’

Peter did as he asked before sitting behind his own desk. ‘I scanned the officer rotas for the week of the fire and e-mailed them to you.’

Trevor switched his computer on and began downloading them.

‘Anything come up at the briefing?’ Peter asked.

‘Damian Howell…’

‘Blond Einstein.’

Trevor looked over the top of his laptop screen at Peter.

‘That’s his nickname in the station.’

‘He doesn’t strike me as bright,’ Trevor agreed.

‘He’s not. In Welsh terms he’s dim but pretty; which is why they call him blond Einstein.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘Tony Sweet. We had a chat before I persuaded him it was essential he attend the briefing. I told him the desk officer has to be well informed to sift through all the information the public bring in. Otherwise they won’t be able to tell the difference between time wasters and statements that move the case on.’

‘What else did Tony Sweet tell you?’ Trevor asked.

‘This and that, you know station gossip.’

‘Frank’s nickname?’

‘Bow How.’

‘After Howell, very funny.’ Trevor smiled wearily.

‘Did you know Damian’s his son?’

‘I hadn’t made the connection but it might explain what I was going to say about his refusal to take Larry Jones’s state of inebriation into account and his fixation on Larry being the murderer. Like father like son.’

Trevor pushed the printer cable into his lap top and printed off two copies of the file he’d downloaded. He handed one to Peter. ‘You had a chance to go through this?’

‘The briefing wasn’t that long. Neither can I read at Superman’s speed. I looked through past cases on Holmes 2.’ Peter referred to the updated version of the “Home Office Large Major Enquiry System” that collated all the files pertinent to serious crimes in the UK. ‘Regina Moore’s worked on eight murder enquiries one as a sergeant, seven as an inspector. A fatal shooting during an armed robbery on a jeweller’s; the rape and murder of a teenager out clubbing; a child abduction that turned out to be no such thing. The mother murdered the child and concealed the body. Another two were random attacks on innocent bystanders by drunks. I saved the best until last. Three were related murders of pensioners in their own home by a junkie. He was convicted on forensic evidence left behind in the houses. Her clear-up rate is impressive. One hundred per cent. So much for Ice Drawers being out of her depth on the Pitcher case. I’m surprised upstairs allowed someone with her record to send for the cavalry.’

‘The three OAP’s. Were they here?’

‘South Wales, none in this town.’

‘Frank Howell?’

‘Worked on two domestic murders here. A farmer was killed by his wife on Christmas Eve. She hit him with a frying pan, cut up his body, parcelled the joints in plastic bags and Christmas paper and stacked them in a disconnected freezer in the barn.’

‘You’re joking?’

‘I kid you not. You should see the evidence photographs. But as she turned herself in the following May and made a full confession, which incidentally Frank and the duty officer here didn’t believe, I can’t commend Frank’s investigative skills. Poor woman had to fetch her solicitor before they sent someone to search the barn.’

‘And the second murder?’

‘Two brothers fought over a girl. One killed the other. There were eyewitnesses. On the plus side, he has worked on a few burglaries where convictions were made on forensic and DNA evidence.’

‘Inspector Carol March?’

Peter busied himself with the printout. ‘Clever girl. Fast tracked up the promotion tree because she has a degree in law and a masters in psychology. Worked on nine murders, none in this town. But you’re barking up the wrong tree there. My money’s on the Snow Queen, Frank, Dai Smith, or Tim Pryce.’

‘Tim Pryce the landlord. May Williams saw…’

‘Someone in a police hat. It’s possible he didn’t turn his in when he retired from the Met with the rank of inspector. He was…’

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