Urge to Kill (1) (21 page)

‘If this was our man, then he is obviously planning at least two other murders, possibly more.’

‘So he’s way ahead of us, then?’ Grant said.

It was inevitable that Grant would have something to say and Matt sighed. He had no patience for the man today. He answered before Fluff could snap back.

‘Yes.’ Seeing the concerned faces in front of him, Matt forced himself to put forward the positive facts, even though, at this point, he felt tired and discouraged. ‘That is exactly what it means. However, we are building up a picture of how this man works and have every chance to catch him before he can kill again.’

Matt paused as Grant mumbled something. He was sure he had heard
‘Fat chance,’
but he chose to ignore it and carried on. ‘Just look at the evidence. We know how he tries to disguise himself.’

‘But how is that going to help us, Sir, if he has already bought all the gear he needs?’ Grant asked.

There was a murmur from the team at Grant’s latest interruption. Fluff spoke for them. ‘Shut up Grant and listen to what the Guv is saying.’

Matt knew they daren’t waste time arguing amongst themselves. ‘No. Grant has asked a valid question. I’ll do my best to answer it. For a start, we now have reason to believe the killer is a local man. We know he has the props to carry out at least two more murders, maybe more. The source of dresses has been identified, and we are expecting more information shortly from the company. This will give us more idea what he is planning. There is also the possibility that we may pick up CCTV footage in the area of that sale. We are working on several angles.’ Matt indicated the incident board. ‘This man thinks he is clever, but he has already made some serious mistakes. We can and will catch him.’ Matt didn’t add that he hoped it would be before he killed again. He knew that worry was already there in the minds of the team.

They seemed encouraged as they dispersed back to work, but Matt knew that they were as worried and tired as he was. No one, least of all himself, wanted to fail.

Now he had better get McRay onboard regarding the artist. McRay grunted as Matt entered his office, and Matt sensed that some of his grumpiness had returned. Matt decided to put a positive spin on the findings from yesterday until McRay stopped him.

‘I’ll OK the artist.’

Matt sensed that McRay had something else on his mind.

‘Sit down, Matt.’

Matt did as he was bid and waited until McRay looked up at him.

‘We need to clear the site, Matt. The owners of the spa are putting pressure on us. I can see their point. It’s hardly conducive to health and well-being to be constantly reminded that a murder took place on the premises, is it?’

‘No, Sir. But—’

McRay held up his hand to stop Matt continuing. ‘No buts, Matt. The Super is leaning on me. The lawyers are getting involved. Unless we have a strong reason to be there, we’ll have to back off.’ McRay watched as Matt compiled his argument against this move.

‘I know that Jason still has some elimination prints to process, Sir. And we have a couple of staff to interview.’

‘Couldn’t these be done off site?’

‘Yes, as long as those people are willing to cooperate.’

‘Good.’

Matt could see that McRay considered the matter resolved and knew he had to have his say, even if it did provoke anger.

‘With respect, Sir, I do feel we need to maintain a presence there. This is no ordinary, one-off killing. We know this killer will be on a high right now. He’ll want to repeat the experience and show off just how clever he is. I feel he will do that by killing again in the same place.’

Matt paused to gauge McRay’s reaction before continuing. ‘There is now evidence that he has purchased at least three of the dolls and several of the dresses, so he obviously intends to continue.’

McRay was silent for a moment. ‘Matt, we both know that you could have a hundred officers on the scene, and it wouldn’t stop a crazy killer like this one.’

‘No, Sir, but it might put him off for a while. Give us time to catch him. We do have a description now and evidence that he is local.’

Matt filled McRay in on the findings from yesterday and waited. The old McRay would have no problem doing what he felt was right.

‘Right. There is to be no overt police presence. If you or the forensic team need to go there, you will keep a low profile and not go around upsetting the guests by acting like Inspector Morse.’

‘Could we at least have a patrol car on the drive? It would be a good deterrent, plus the guests would be reassured.’

‘Oh, alright, but only if there is nothing else for them to do, mind.’

He nodded, knowing he had to be content with half winning the battle. Matt knew how these things worked. He stood and began making his way to the door.

‘How’s that new wife of yours, Matt?’

‘Fine. Thank you, Sir.’ Matt would have been happy to leave it at that, but McRay followed him to the door.

‘Damn bad luck, dealing with all this right now, lad. Look after her.’ McRay gave Matt’s shoulder a pat before turning back to his desk.

Matt detected a glimmer of wistfulness in McRay’s voice. Did he regret what had happened with his marriage? For the first time, Matt felt some understanding for the man. McRay used to have a life outside of work, a wife and family. He hadn’t always been this grumpy, aging man.

Was this what lay ahead for him? There seemed little chance that he would be able to get home early tonight. So he would have no opportunity to heal the rift with Eppie.

CHAPTER 29

W
alking into the office knowing he would never hear Anne’s shrill voice again was such a pleasure. Clive’s first task was to erase all the phone calls he had made. He thought the police could possibly trace calls from his mobile, but they would have to suspect him first. Anne’s mobile would be filled with muddy water by now, like her mouth and every other orifice of her skinny body. The thought pleased him and he almost giggled aloud.

Gloria arrived and, without waiting to take her coat off, came across to his office. Clive knew he had to be careful how he played this.

‘Well. Did you set her straight? Or do I start collecting?’

He shook his head as if puzzled. ‘She didn’t show.’

‘Get away.’

‘Did you know she had booked theatre tickets?’

‘Really?’

‘RSC. I kept calling her from there, but there was no answer.’

‘She’s changed her mind. You’re losing your touch, Clive. It won’t be long before you will have to give old Gloria a run for her money.’

He dutifully laughed. Some of the office staff were arriving so Gloria turned to leave. ‘It will be interesting to hear what she has to say today.’

‘Bet she won’t want to show her face. She’ll take a sickie, you see.’

With the matter of Anne finally concluded, it was time to turn his attention to his next venture. Everything was now in place for the next statement, the last detail carefully planned. The timings would be tricky, but as long as dear Mother played the part he had mapped out for her, Clive was confident he would be able to present DI Turrell with another little problem.

If only it was as simple to sort out his muddled feelings about Ben. Clive couldn’t even walk by him without the accompaniment of what felt like a brass band beating in his chest. All day, Ben had been avoiding eye contact and there had been no opportunity to talk to him alone.

The outer office was rapidly emptying, as it always did on a Friday afternoon. He glanced across to where Ben was sitting, head down, as if concentrating. He was usually the first to leave on a Friday, and Clive suspected he had many friends and a lively social life. He wouldn’t want Clive asking him out for a drink, even if he could find the courage. He decided to put Ben out of his mind and go home to recheck the details for Saturday night. It was also important to keep Mother happy and on line for Saturday, or all his preparation would come to nothing.

It had been a busy week. Aside from his debut murder and the drowning of dear Anne, he had just finished a contract for the prestigious Governor Hotel. The software had been fully tested and delivered to the client, tested again on the client’s premises, and signed off. That was the end of his responsibilities; it was now over to the service engineers.

With a sigh, Clive turned his back on Ben and began fastening his briefcase ready to leave. But before he could make it out of the office, the phone rang. He could choose to ignore it and pretend he had already left. Everyone dreaded that Friday afternoon call. He hesitated, then put his briefcase back on the desk and picked up the phone.

Mr Norris, manager of the Governor Hotel, sounded agitated. During the installation of the new software, it had become obvious that he was a worrier, always expecting things to go wrong. Now he was panicking, saying he had piles of bookings that could not be inputted. His area manager was visiting tomorrow and his job could be on the line.

After running through the usual suggestions, none of which worked, Clive said he would book one of the support engineers to call on him as soon as possible. However, Mr Norris had already been down this route only to be told that there was no engineer available. En Jay’s had three support engineers to take care of just this sort of problem, but Clive knew one was off sick and the other two were already out working on other emergencies.

Looking around the office in case anyone might like some overtime, he found most had left, and the rest were studiously avoiding his eyes and hurrying their preparations to escape. Only Ben was still at his desk, eyes down and seemingly busy.

Giving in to Mr Norris’s urgent plea, Clive resigned himself to making a visit to the hotel on the way home.

Ben looked up as he passed.

‘Problems?’

‘Only a complete computer nerd climbing up the wall.’

Ben nodded his understanding. He had helped on the programme and had met the computer illiterate Mr Norris.

‘Mr Norris.’ He guessed. ‘Want me to give you a hand?’

The suggestion was so casual, Ben wasn’t even looking at him, but Clive felt his heart begin its now familiar tremor of excitement.

Clive tried to relax, not easy while negotiating the Friday night traffic jams and with Ben beside him. He began thinking of something interesting to say, but found he was ruling everything out before it could reach his lips. In the end, he left most of the talking to Ben.

‘Did you give her the brush off, then?’

‘She didn’t show. I think she must have realised she had no chance.’

‘So, that’s why she didn’t come in today. She seemed so determined.’

‘Yes. I thought it a bit strange too. Maybe Gloria got through to her at last.’

They both laughed and, as Ben chattered on, Clive was delighted to find out they shared the same taste in films, while their musical tastes differed widely. He wasn’t even sure what the term ‘soul music’ covered but was inclined to think he wouldn’t like it at all.

The Governor Hotel was small but luxurious and well known for its cuisine. Mr Norris rushed to meet them in a flap overlaid with profuse thanks that they had arrived so promptly.

To Mr Norris’s relief the problem was quickly solved. As they started to leave, Clive began wondering if he dare ask Ben out for a drink. It was then that Mr Norris scurried up to offer them dinner in the hotel’s award-winning Rose restaurant, by way of a thank you for solving the problem.

It only took a nod of agreement from Ben, a quick call to Mrs Sinclair, who explained that she couldn’t stay on, but that she would make sure Mother had everything she needed and she would settle her in front of the television with a tray.

Mr Norris led them through an elegant panelled dining room to a table for two, situated in the large bay windows overlooking the rose garden. One or two roses were still in bloom despite the autumn frosts and matched the one that graced the centre of the table.

As they sat, Mr Norris snapped his fingers towards a black-clad waiter standing like a sentry at the edge of the room. The waiter adjusted the white cloth over his arm and strode towards them.

‘Justin, these are my guests and are to have whatever they wish, including a selection from the wine list.’

It was obvious that here Mr Norris was in complete command as the waiter bowed over them.

In no time at all, they were enjoying a rack of lamb with all the trimmings complemented by a rather robust French red.

As he sat across from Ben, Clive tried to work out why he was so attracted to him. In some ways, they were exact opposites. Ben was always so cheerful and outgoing, whereas Clive had learnt early to be cautious and careful. Maybe that was it—Ben released that part of him stifled years ago, if there ever was such a part. The trembling inside was settling down, helped by the wine. He smiled at Ben across the table.

‘More?’ Clive asked holding up the wine bottle.

‘Why not?’ Ben replied, holding out his glass. ‘And hey, we could always get a taxi home.’

Clive laughed. It had sounded like an invitation and, if he was free, free of that alien Mother at home, he could casually invite Ben home for a coffee, hoping all the time it would lead to more. He wanted Ben all to himself, away from everyone, wanted to be his in every way.