Sugar & Spice (36 page)

Then the spell was broken. A warm, sympathetic voice took over and she reached
out a comforting hand to Claire’s shoulder.
“Ceri? Profile?”
Suddenly Reynolds’ schedule was elastic.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”

170

The first two voice messages were from his mother.
Surprise, surprise. He felt vindicated in turning his mobile off all evening to
stay over at Claire’s.
His mother hoped he’d had nothing to do with that rabble of journalists on
television hounding that poor politician. When was he going to visit? The garden
needed some work doing. Matt made a mental note to pop in over the weekend.
He was torturing his face with a Gillette when he realised his mother’s voice
had been replaced by the urgent tones of Ceri. He dropped the razor and grabbed
a pen and jotter.
“Matt, it’s Ceri. I know it’s late but I had to call. I’m convinced we’re
right now. Randall’s not Uncle Tom. He’s killed twice since Randall was
arrested. The girl in Mold, and before that in Oxford. It was so obvious! I know
where we went wrong now. We assumed Rebecca was the first. She wasn’t. Just the
first to die. The painted nails were a blind. But there will be no more bodies
found. Matt, my credit’s about to go. Call me back. We can find him, using
Canter’s circle, but there’s less than a week before -”
Matt hit the return call button but it went straight to voice mail. Seconds
later he was through to Professor Large.
“Gavin? Matt Burford. Have you seen Ceri today?”
“Her first lecture with me is this afternoon. Something up?”
“Gavin, when you see her tell her to call me immediately. Lend her your phone
if need be.”
“Matt, I can’t go chasing wayward students all the time.”
“This is important, Gavin. It’s about the profile.”
A deep sigh. “I thought that was history.”
“So did we. Now I’m not so sure. Has Ceri said anything to you?”
“She’s tried, but I told her in no uncertain terms to forget it and get some
studying done.”
“Gavin, just make sure she rings me. As soon as she can.”
He hit the dial again. “Jeremy. Matt Burford.”
“Matt, I was just trying to ring you.”
“You were?”
“Yes. I’ve been burgled. My office.”
“Sorry to hear it, but why would you want to tell me?”
“You misunderstand, Matt. We haven’t been burgled. I have. Just my office. On
the top floor. Professional, too, through the window.”
“Just you?”
“And here’s the rub. All that’s missing are my files on sex offenders.
Including Bristow and Randall. CID have just left, but there’s no forensics. A
professional job through and through. After our little meeting the other evening
I thought you ought to know.”
“Did you mention that to the cops?”
“No, not yet. Thought I should talk to you first.”
“Jeremy, I had a call from Ceri. A cryptic message on voice-mail. Listen.”
Matt played back the recording into the hand-set. Isaac listened in silence.
“Mean anything?”
“Not a jot.”
“Nor me. Her mobile’s off, but I’ll get back to you as soon as she calls
me.”
“Do that.”
Matt dialled again.
“Danny? A favour.”

171

“So what did you last slave die of?” Danny slid the milk carton across the
table, waving the receipt in Matt’s face.
“It’s not all glamour work being junior partner to a top-notch reporter like
me.”
“Why can’t I be the senior partner for a change?”
“You’re not old enough. Listen, you want to do something really useful? At the
fore-front of media operations? At the core of modern journalism?”
Danny’s face lit up. “Too right!”
“Then get the kettle on. What were you doing at home anyway? Playing
Pac-Man?”
“You are so old.”
“If the phone rings, don’t go grabbing it. It’ll be Ceri. For me. I don’t want
you frightening her off with your adolescent drooling.”
“As if.” Danny suddenly grinned. “Hey, guess what? I got a letter from her
last week. I think she fancies me.”
“In your dreams.”
“You’ll see. What’s she want to ring an old codger like you for, anyway?”
“Never you mind.”
Matt was settling down with some late breakfast cornflakes when the phone rang.
Danny grabbed the receiver while Matt was still disengaging from the bowl.
“Hello? Yes, I think so. One moment.” Danny grinned, his hand over the
receiver. “Is Matthew there? It’s your mum! Wow, she must be prehistoric!”
Matt gestured wildly. “Get rid of her!”
Danny was grinning broadly. “Sorry, he’s just popped out. Can I take a
message? Okay. See ya, mate.” He put the phone down.
“See ya, mate?”
“She wants you to phone her the minute you get in. Says it’s very important.
Something about a lawn?”
“She just wants some company. You fancy it, Danny? Retired widow, own house
and car, seeks toy boy, early teens, for shared computer games experiences.”
“Up yours, granddad.” Danny picked up the message pad. “Been doodling,
have we? I s’pose this is shorthand? Let me see, Canter. That’s gotta be
Canterbury, right? See, Matt, I’m a natural at this game.”
“It’s nothing to do with Canterbury.”
“Horses, then?”
“You tell me, Einstein. Ceri mentioned it. Canter’s circle. Hence I’ve drawn a
circle with the word Canter in it. It’s all clever stuff.”
The smile.
Matt eyed his junior partner warily.
“Not all that clever, if you don’t know who Canter is.”
“And you do, I suppose?”
“If Ceri said it then it’s got to be David Canter. She probably means his
circle theory.”
“Are you bullshitting me?”
“Straight up. You’re telling me you’ve never heard of Canter? He got criminal
profiling off the ground in this country.”
Matt’s eyes lit up. “Danny, right now I could kiss you.”
“Thanks, but I’ll hold out for Ceri. She’s more my type.”
Matt pushed the bowl to one side. “You’ll have a long wait, kid. She prefers
real men, not little boys.”
Danny looked crestfallen. “It’s not so little, actually.”
“So what about this circle?”
Danny stared out of the window.
“Danny? The Canter circle?”
Danny crossed his arms in a sulk. “I’m just a kid, remember?”
Matt sighed. “All right. I admit it. I’m out of my depth. I can just about
keep up with ordinary criminals. Drugs barons and bank robbers. Why do you think
I’m working for some backwater publishing outfit like Southern Media and not in
the City? I bow to your superior knowledge, okay? If you bloody well know
something, just tell me!”
Danny looked suitably smug. “I’m not an expert like Ceri, you understand. It’s
just things what I’ve read.”
“Which is probably everything ever written on the subject. Get to the
point.”
“Well what Canter did was to mark out crime scenes on a map. Then draw a
circle big enough to take in all those places, and somewhere within the circle
is where the criminal would be found. Ceri could explain it much better. So
what’s the big deal? Uncle Tom’s locked up, ain’t he?”
“We’re not so sure.”
“For real?”
Matt looked at the kid. All of fourteen years old, his knowledge gained
second-hand, through the sanitized protective filter of a news report, magazine
or book. Was it right to involve the boy further?
“Just listen carefully.”
Danny’s face lit up as Matt replayed the voicemail. “Yes! I knew it!”
“Knew what?”
“That it wasn’t Randall. Anyone could see that.”
“What? How?”
“Remember that photo of him and his kids in the Sunday papers the other
week?”
“So?
“So his daughters… Their faces were airbrushed to protect their identity ,
as if they could hide when their dad’s front-page news , but their hair, it
was loose brushed.”
“As I said before, so?”
“Well that’s it. Their hair was loose brushed. Every girl killed had their
hair put into pig-tails or something similar, right? It was part of the ritual
Uncle Tom went through. Obviously Uncle Tom had this thing about girls’ hair. If
he had any daughters of his own he wouldn’t let them go about with their own
hair loose like that. It was just too important to him.”
Matt stared at the kid in wonderment. “Why the hell didn’t you say something
before?”
“I’m just the tea-boy. Remember?”
Matt looked apologetic. “Okay, Danny, cards on the table. But just remember,
professional ethics. This is strictly confidential.”
“Have I ever let you down?”
Danny listened in respectful silence, occasionally interjecting a pertinent
question. The played Ceri’s words over again and again.
“She says he’s killed twice.”
“Mold was the Y, What about the X? You said there weren’t any.”
“I guarantee it. The computer doesn’t lie. Not to me, anyway. It wouldn’t
dare.”
“What about The Undercliffe?”
“That was different. It was indexed under T. I’ll run a check on the Xs again,
just to be safe, but I promise you there’s nothing.”
“You can do it here if you like.”
Danny cast a disparaging glance at Matt’s computer. “On that dinosaur? Who
made it? Clive Sinclair? I need to go home.”
“So what are you waiting for?”
Danny was half-way across the room when Matt said, “What are your plans for
tonight?”
The kid shrugged. “The usual.”
“Meet me here, six-forty-five. Bring anything you can find with you. And don’t
go stuffing your face beforehand. You’re coming to dinner at Claire’s.”
“For real?”
“For real. Danny, you’re on the payroll!”

172

“All I ever get at home is chips. This is scrumptious, Claire. Got any
more?”
“You certainly have an appetite.”
“Real food! Doesn’t happen very often. Mum can’t cook, you see. Can’t even
boil an egg properly.”
“Not many people can,” Matt assured him. “You’d be surprised how difficult
it is to judge an egg correctly.”
“Yeah, like you can, I s’pose? All you can make is coffee.”
“Actually, Danny, Matt’s a very good cook.”
Danny looked askance at Matt. “You big girl’s blouse!”
Matt aimed a playful hand at the boy’s head. “Well, it looks like we’re not
going to hear from Ceri today after all. So whenever you’re ready… Time to
show Claire what you’re really made of.”
Danny scraped the plate clean before beginning.
“It’s like I said on the way, Matt. There’s nothing that makes any sense. I’ve
checked and double checked. There are no place names beginning with X, near
Oxford or anywhere else in the country. I guarantee it. I’ve checked all the
news sites for missing kids. The girl in Mold is still missing, but there’s
nothing to link her with Uncle Tom.”
“It was worth a try. But I’m thinking maybe we should get a map of the whole
country, on paper, and go over it with a magnifying glasnch by inch, on the
off-chance we turn up something like Jeremy did.”
“Way ahead of you, Matt. As Ceri specifically mentioned Oxford I went and
bought the Ordnance Survey map covering Oxford and surrounding countryside.”
“Told you he was good, Claire.”
Danny unfolded the map across the table. “But there’s nothing. I’ve been
over it twice.”
“What about the whole country?”
“It’s not that simple. Take this one. Landranger series. It’s pretty detailed,
as you can see, but it’s eighty centimetres across.”
“What’s that in real money?”
“You are so old! Two and a half feet.”
“We’ll manage. Did you bring them all?”
“There’s over two hundred of them, covering England, Scotland and Wales.”
Matt let out a low whistle. “Okay, so let’s move to Plan B.”
“What’s Plan B?”
“ I was hoping you’d know.”
Matt’s mobile interrupted them. “Might be Ceri.”
“Matt, Gavin Large.”
“Is Ceri with you?”
“That’s why I’m calling. Ceri missed my lecture today. Nothing new there,
mind, but I asked around her friends and they’re a little concerned. She hasn’t
been seen by anyone for a couple of days. When did you get that message?”
“I got it this morning, but she left it yesterday evening sometime.”
“That’s a relief. I was beginning to worry. Maybe she’s just sick. But her
friends say she’s been acting kinda odd recently.”
“Odd?”
“Spending too much time in the library. Researching. Not the kind of thing she
normally does, you understand. And she’s been in our biology department, asking
about diabetes.”
“Has she ever gone off like this before?”
“Not that I know of, but students do. You know, the pressure of exams.”
“Does she have an exam due soon?”
“No.”
“We need to speak to her. Urgently. Gavin, does Canter’s circle mean anything
to you?”
“David Canter? His circle hypothesis? Sure. It’s a tool for identifying the
likely home base of repeat offenders. Hold on honey! Just coming! Matt, I’m
sorry, I gotta go. When you get to my age, women are hard to come by. You don’t
keep them waiting.”
“The circle, Gavin. How does it work?”
“Ring me tomorrow! Bye!”
“Fuck!” Matt threw the phone down.
“Matt, what’s happened? Is Ceri okay?”
“Not sure. No-one’s seen her for several days.”
“If she phoned last night it can’t be anything to worry about.”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t add up. She leaves a message like that, desperate to
talk, then turns her phone off so I can’t call back? Not a dickie-bird
since…”
“Maybe her battery’s flat,” Danny suggested. “Maybe someone’s nicked her
phone.”
“Or maybe she knows more than she’s letting on and she’s panicking.”
“We have to go to her, Matt,” Claire declared. “We owe her that much.”
“You’re right. If we can get Ceri and Gavin sat round a table together maybe
we can slot everything into place.”
“I’m coming too,” Danny said.
“You, young man, are staying put. Your parents would never agree to you going
off to Liverpool with a stranger.”
“I came here without them knowing.”
“That’s different. It’s just up the road. Liverpool is hundreds of miles
away.”
Danny scowled at Matt.
“Besides, there’s something this end you can follow up.”

173

Danny’s smile returned.
“There is?”
“I need the dirt on one Leroy McKenzie. Some sort of sex-offender. Not kids, I
know that much. But his case notes were stolen from Jeremy Isaac’s office, along
with Randall’s and Bristow’s. Jeremy thinks it was probably picked up with the
other two by accident.”
“And you don’t?”
“I don’t know what to think, Danny. Clutching at straws. But that’s your next
job”
“Pips. Where’s your computer, Claire?”
“No way,” Matt said. “Supposing they trace you back here?”
“So it’s okay for me to risk my neck on my computer.”
“That’s not the point. Anyway, we have other things to discuss now. You can
email me the McKenzie info’ later tonight. Who’s for coffee? Claire?”
“Please.”
“Danny?”
“Haven’t you anything stronger?” He shot a glance at the bottle of wine on
the cabinet.
“Coffee or tea. We might be able to stretch to an orange juice if you’re
lucky.”
“You’re treating me like a kid again.”
“Drinking alcohol doesn’t make you more grown up, Danny. It just ages your
body.”
Matt brought in the tray of two coffees and a hot chocolate for Danny and they
moved to the easy chairs.
“Sweeteners?” Danny dropped five in his cup. “Gross! What’s up with the
real thing?”
“Rebecca was a diabetic, Danny. I never have sugar in the house.”
Matt asked quietly, “Did you tell Ceri that Rebecca was diabetic?”
“She spotted the insulin pack in the fridge. Why?”
“Gavin said Ceri had been asked questions about diabetes.”
“Why would she?”
“I don’t know. But she phoned me about a week ago, in the middle of the night,
asking whether Rebecca was Type-1 or not. I hadn’t give it another thought
until…” Matt stared into the distance.
“Until?”
“Until now. Now it’s beginning to make sense.” Matt sat forward. “Remember
what Ceri said on the voicemail? That Rebecca wasn’t the first. Just the first
to die.”
“So?”
“So supposing she wasn’t murdered? Supposing she died because she hadn’t
received her insulin?”
“But the post-mortem…”
“Said strangulation. But it also said the findings were tentative. That her
body had been in the water too long to deliver anything concrete. Just suppose,
Claire… Just suppose he abducted Rebecca and then she died on him.” Matt
took Claire’s hand. “I’m sorry, but try think this through. Suddenly he’s got
a dead child on his hands. He has to do something. So he makes it look like
strangulation.”
“Forensics can easily tell which injuries are inflicted before death and which
after,” said Danny.
“If she’d been found immediately, maybe. But after all that time…”
Claire fought back the tears. “Then maybe he’s assaulted other girls? That are
still alive?”
“Of course!” Danny spilt his hot chocolate in his excitement. “There’ll be
a record of assaults going back!”
“But surely the police would have linked them?”
Matt’s mind was racing. “Not if they were in different counties, across Force
boundaries.”
“Force boundaries?”
“It’s a central tenet in the argument for a national police force. At present
each police force has its own area and its own preferred methods. Sometimes
information isn’t exchanged easily or willingly, especially about minor
offences.”
“But Matt, this is a murder inquiry. The police all over the country are
working together, surely?”
“But they weren’t before,” Danny said. “Matt’s right. Sex assaults are
so common nowadays that if they happen across force boundaries they might never
be linked.”
Matt paced the room, thinking out loud. “What did Ceri say? That the paint was
a blind? I think Uncle Tom was trying to draw the cops away from his earlier
assaults. Once he had a dead child on his hands he’d be facing manslaughter
charges at the very least. He’d have nothing to lose by killing his victims
after that. Just the opposite. It would reduce the chances of being identified.
The classic argument against capital punishment. Might as well be hanged for a
sheep as a lamb.”
Claire dabbed moist eyes with a tissue. “Surely we have to go to the police
now?”
“We need more than just vague ideas, Claire. We have to identify the series of
assaults that pre-dated Rebeccas feasible he was following the same pattern as
before. Right, Danny?”
Danny was nodding enthusiastically. “That’s what Ceri was telling us! If we
can identify the locations we can use Canter’s circle to trace him.”
“I need access to Southern Media’s news database. Danny, you need to get home
and dish the dirt on Leroy McKenzie. Email me with what you find. Claire, I
suggest you get an early night. We’ve a long drive tomorrow.”
“I want to see Ceri too.”
“We’ve been through this already, Danny. The answer’s no.”
“Matt, please.”
“You’re not coming, Danny, and that’s final.”