When a Killer Strikes, page 8
Ned Granger could be seen heading towards Dylan’s office through the window that showed his other officers working diligently at their desks. ‘Forensics say they’ll have an update first thing tomorrow morning with regard to the examination of the vaginal swab, boss,’ he said on entering.
Vicky turned to Dylan. ‘We asked for it to be treated as a priority.’
‘So now we know it’s only a matter of hours. In the meantime, continue to trace others that have been brought into the enquiry,’ he said.
Ned sidled into the chair next to Vicky. He spoke in a hushed tone. ‘I’ve been thinking about people pinching knickers from washing lines. Why do you think it’s something we don’t come across much these days?’
‘Probably because people don’t bother to report it to be fair,’ said Vicky.
‘It’s mostly downloading obscene images, or shoplifting kegs…’
‘That’s right Yorkshire slang if ever I heard it. My gran used to call %’em kegs.’
‘Wouldn’t you report it if you had your knickers stolen off the line then?’
Vicky showed her bottom lip. ‘Now you’re assuming I wear %’em.’
Ned instantly put his hand up to his collar and opened the top button of his shirt and pulled at the knot of his tie. ‘You know what I mean,’ he said with a huff.
Her wink was for Dylan.
‘Stop winding him up,’ Dylan said, as Ned scuttled out of the office. Jen appeared at the office door. ‘I have in my possession a large takeaway pizza and Costa coffees, and I also have a little girl who would like to see her daddy.’ Maisy giggled as she peeped around the door.
Vicky stood and smiled at Jen. ‘I’ll leave you guys to it. I’ve got to liaise with Emily and look at the next phase of exhibits to make sure we have them ready to go to Forensics. I’ll let you have the paperwork later so you can agree the priority,’ she said to Dylan.
Maisy jumped up on Dylan’s knee, took the pen from Dylan’s hand and began writing her name. Dylan whipped the top page off his notepad.
‘Thanks Vicky, I’ve some policy that needs writing up. If you get chance, and they’re available, have a quick look at Elliot Black’s photos of Patti will you, see what you think?’
Maisy was now quietly drawing and the three had eaten. Dylan noticed Jen was unusually quiet. ‘You okay?’
‘I checked the estate agent’s website. The house, it’s under offer,’ she said. ‘I feel incredibly sad because I could see us living there…’
Dylan’s face wore the detective’s mask. ‘And what makes you think we won’t?’
Chapter Seven
There was little new intelligence to report at the briefing but Dylan informed the team he was waiting for a call from Forensics. Meanwhile he prepared an arrest and interview strategy, should the result be positive in respect of Elliot Black. This preparation meant they could act immediately.
The administration work kept his mind occupied and he waited patiently for the call. Every now and then he would look into the outer office and could see Vicky pacing the incident room floor. Every time his phone rang she looked across at him for confirmation or not that it was the call they were waiting for, the call that could put Elliot Black in the frame for his stepdaughter’s murder.
At ten-thirty a.m. the call came. Semen had been found on the vaginal swab taken at Patti’s post-mortem and a full DNA sample was being run through the national database. Dylan waved Vicky into the office as he continued to listen intently to what the caller had to say. Vicky sat quietly, her hands gripped in her lap, her face eager and expectant.
Immediately the phone went down Dylan was eager to move forward. ‘Full DNA profile from the vaginal swab.’
Vicky moved to the edge of her seat. ‘We can start to eliminate.’
‘Black’s DNA is being checked and Forensics are continuing to work on other exhibits to see if anything can be gleaned from them.’
‘We need to know if the footprint is his,’ said Vicky.
‘Give them a call. It’s not going to be the same person working on the DNA.’
Vicky left Dylan’s office to be met by the expectant faces of those working in the main office. Not a word was said as she walked to her desk and sat down. Eyes lowered, as they returned to their work.
Dylan constantly checked his mobile and his inbox. He willed the telephone to ring: an update, news, hoping and praying for a quick resolution. When it did ring he had to check himself from snatching it off its cradle.
The news that the bloodied footprint was Elliot Black’s was not surprising and the confirmation came quickly. Another piece in the jigsaw and confirmation of what Patti’s stepfather had told them but not evidence that would prove he was the murderer. The next update from Forensics was a blow. The DNA profile that they had from the rapist, Patti’s murderer, was not anyone that was recorded on the national database – Elliot Black was out of the frame.
Dylan stood at his door and shook his head. ‘No match on the database,’ he said turning back into his office to answer the ringing phone.
‘Boss, DC Donna Frost, just to let you know we have located Stuart Sykes in Burford Park. He’s sat on his own on a bench next to the playground. His presence was a concern to the parents whose children were playing on the swings. PC Rachael West attended and notified me. We’ve persuaded him to come back to the nick for a chat.’
‘Did he say why he hadn’t turned up for his appointment for his DNA taking?’
‘He said his dad had told him that he wasn’t obliged to.’
Dylan raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s helpful!’
Stuart Sykes had no previous convictions and whilst he answered the questions put to him, his responses were somewhat vague.
When asked if they could take his DNA by means of a simple swab and the process explained to him, the officers were taken aback by his negative response. Even telling him that it was a quick and easy way of eliminating him from the murder enquiry, which in turn meant they wouldn’t have to trouble him again didn’t work. They offered him a hot drink. He declined, but instead asked for a glass of water.
‘We haven’t sufficient evidence to arrest him. We can’t force him to give us a sample,’ said Dylan.
‘Don’t you think the refusal in itself may suggest he might be involved?’ said Donna. ‘He lives opposite the scene, he has binoculars on the windowsill, a telescope in his room, a straight chair positioned where he can see into Patti’s…’
‘What else is he saying?’ Dylan frowned.
‘He’s co-operative, in his own weird way, but he’s refusing to let us swab him. For no other reason, he says, but that his dad says he doesn’t have to. He’s still in the station. What do you want me to do, sir?’
‘He’s had a drink of water?’
Donna nodded.
‘Seize the glass. We should get his DNA and fingerprints from it. We can have him checked without him knowing it.’
‘And then release him?’
‘For now.’
DS Mike Scott was busy creating a database on the HOLMES system for DNA processing and submission.
‘In the first instance they’ll call you but you’ll get the confirmation through from Forensics. This will be our only elimination factor for all suspects now we have a full DNA profile,’ said Dylan.
‘Elimination for males by DNA sample only,’ said Ned Granger.
‘You going deaf?’ Vicky Hardacre clipped him around his curly head, as she walked past.
‘No,’ he said rubbing his ear frantically. ‘I’ll have you for assault!’ he said with a scowl.
‘You’ll have me for assault… what?’
‘Boss,’ he said sulkily swinging his legs back under his desk. He held his hand up to the sky. ‘For God’s sake why doesn’t some member of parliament do something good for a change, and lobby for a compulsory national database, and every child born, or person entering the country should go on it automatically. Think how much easier catching a criminal would be?’
‘True,’ said Dylan. ‘And, if we had no match we would instantly know it was someone was in the UK illegally, too.’
‘Let’s face it, compulsory DNA is never going to happen, is it?’ said Vicky.
‘Sadly no, because of legislation within the Human Rights Act 1998.’ Dylan ran his hands through his hair. He stopped for a moment. ‘But, why the hell don’t they see it’s about protecting the masses? Being able to identify, locate, and arrest the murderers before they had chance to strike again, or leave the country, would save hundreds of lives.’
Vicky followed Dylan into his office.
‘Sykes has refused to have his DNA taken,’ he said over his shoulder. He sat behind his desk and she sat facing him. Dylan’s concentration was on his computer screen.
Her eyes narrowed and she screwed up her face. ‘He’s a wanker.’
‘Vicky!’
‘No, really. Not long after he left here uniform patrol officers responded to a call; someone was acting indecently in the park. Guess who they found?’ Her eyes were wide, head cocked to one side and her lips formed a pout.
‘Really?’
Vicky nodded. ‘A double unit attended and he was still there laid on his back, on the grass, masturbating. Apparently, the officers had to shout at him to stop!’ Vicky bit her lip and her eyes sparkled before she burst out laughing. ‘Shelagh got out her baton to hit it apparently.’
Dylan put his head in his hands. ‘Tell me she didn’t?’
‘No, no,’ she chuckled. ‘He got up when he saw the baton, fled and her and Rachael gave chase, floored him and had him in handcuffs before he knew it.’
‘Well done them. And what did he, have to say for himself?’
‘He told them his parents wouldn’t let him do it at home so he had to do it outside.’
‘I’ve heard of parents being blamed for a lot of things, but that takes the biscuit.’
‘Shelagh’s booking him in as we speak and then she’ll be coming to speak to me whilst the cells arrange a solicitor for him.’
‘He’s got to be a priority to eliminate.’ Dylan’s computer beeped an incoming message and he concentrated on the screen. ‘Since Donna Frost and Michelle Robinson were speaking to him earlier, update them.’
Dylan looked up from the documents he was signing when he heard laughter. Three women stood around Vicky’s desk; Ned Granger was hovering. Judging by his weight the DC was worth the three ladies put together. Dylan paused and threaded his pen slowly through his fingers – something he did when he was thinking. There was a serious side to this. Sex offenders were addicts just like drug users, looking for their next fix and taking things to the next level to achieve the desired result. They were dangerous predators who were a menace to society and should, in his opinion, never be underestimated as to what lengths they would go to satisfy themselves. Stuart Sykes at the age of nineteen was a name Dylan wouldn’t forget; he had already shown that he had no self-control.
‘Was he the person that raped and killed Patti?’ he asked himself.
Chapter Eight
The autumnal sun was shining through the window. It was as warm and comforting as a blanket thrown around her shoulders. Jen didn’t notice her feet that in contrast were as cold as ice but, read on, the ghost stories associated with the Old Station House.
* * *
It was debrief time and the team had all gathered to hear the good news that the vaginal swab taken at Patti’s post-mortem had indeed given the detectives a full DNA profile of her killer, and the results that had been put through the national database were in. Dylan broke the news quickly to the momentarily euphoric team.
‘This is indeed the news we wished for. However, I can confirm that our offender is not on the system,’ said Dylan. ‘It is therefore imperative that any male coming into this enquiry be subjected to a DNA test, to eliminate them as soon as possible. No matter our thoughts about Elliot Black, he is not our man.’
It was apparent from the sea of faces in front of him how many had believed him to be responsible. There was a wave of whispers, that continued to ebb and flow for a couple of minutes, then silence ensued with the raising of Dylan’s raised voice. ‘We will come across what appear to us good suspects during the course of any enquiry, and this is no different. There will be people who we think are capable of rape, even murder, and ultimately responsible for Patti’s death. If we do not leave our personal thoughts behind, and deal with the evidence put before us, then we will continue to be bitterly disappointed, and our hopes dashed time and time again. Our strength is in our persistence which will ultimately lead us to her killer. This DNA profile is a gift, and we must treat it as such, as this allows us to eliminate people quickly and easily.’
Detective Sergeant Hardacre told those present about the arrest of Stuart Sykes. There were a few titters and elbow nudges. Her theatrical performance regarding the details of his arrest had the team laughing. She closed on a more sombre note by telling them that his DNA was on its way to Forensics.
Dylan knew that investigations had their peaks and troughs. It was the worst, and best, rollercoaster ride you’d ever wish to travel, even more so if you were the person in charge. Keeping morale up was important, and there was nothing better than laughter to lift the spirit, other than locating and arresting the perpetrator.
‘I’ve briefly met Patti’s gym teacher Bale at the gym,’ said Ned. All eyes turned to see his bright red face and sweat sitting like bubbles on his brow. ‘He has an abscess and was on his way to an emergency dental appointment when I caught up with him just now.’ A low moan of a mumble echoed around the room. Followed by a gale of laughter as he described his attempt to keep up with him on the running machine.
‘First impressions?’ said Dylan.
‘Unmarried. Loves himself. Muscles on muscles. But,’ he said, tilting his head one way and then the other, ‘we all know looks can be deceiving. I’ve made another appointment to see him tomorrow and get his DNA sample.’
‘I’ll join you,’ said Donna, laying an arm around Ned’s shoulder and squeezing him tight.
‘I’ll join you, Donna,’ said Vicky, with mischief in abundance on her face. ‘Privilege of rank, Ned.’
‘And Patti’s coach is also being swabbed tomorrow,’ said Dylan, shaking his head at the girls.
‘Ned, that’s yours,’ said Vicky. She looked down at her notes that lay in her lap. ‘I thought the action to see Patti’s coach was down for today?’
‘Apparently, due to the train strike, his return from London was delayed. In his absence, however, I’ve also been able to show he was out of the area at the time of her death. I’ll still be taking his DNA, though,’ said Ned.
All eyes were back on Dylan. The troops were getting restless. ‘Any more information on the two lads that were seen dropping leaflets in the area?’
There was the unanimous show of shaking heads.
‘Okay. Nev, what have you got for us in respect of enquiries at Patti’s school?’
‘Presently compiling a list of all boys in Patti’s year, sir, and the years below and above, as a starting point. The number is likely to take us over a hundred, so we will prioritise those closest to her before moving onto the others.’
‘This investigation is still in its infancy and we’re making great progress. Remember we are still awaiting numerous results from Forensics and with regards Patti’s mobile and laptop. I’m confident we’ll find her killer.’
Back in the office Vicky stared intently at Dylan across his desk.
‘If I had been a gambler I’d have lost money betting that Black was responsible,’ she said.
‘Understandable. A lot of things pointed to him but now we have to look forward. The good thing is we know we can positively eliminate people.’
‘So Stuart Sykes becomes the front runner?’ suggested Vicky.
‘Him, and the rest…’
Vicky stood. ‘A few of us are wandering over the road to the Red Lion if you fancy a drink?’
Dylan was otherwise distracted as he scanned the computer for emails that might update him on the enquiry. ‘I’ll take a rain check. I’ve a house to go and look around with Jen and Maisy.’ Creases were visible at the corners of his eyes, such was his smile.
‘And tomorrow I’ll go and see Sandra Heinz and Elliot Black and let them know we have eliminated him.’ Vicky smacked her lips together and leaned forward on seeing DC Granger approach Dylan’s office door. ‘You coming for a pint, mucker?’
Ned stopped at the opening, rummaged in his pocket for his phone. ‘Give me a minute.’
Dylan saw him put the handset to his ear and heard the one-sided conversation that subsequently followed, which was one he had heard many times before. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. Yes, it’s gonna be a late one again, yeah.’ Ned turned away from Vicky’s mocking. She raised her eyebrow at Dylan and pretended to put her fingers down her throat. ‘He needs to grow some balls.’
‘Vicky,’ Dylan growled in a warning tone as she walked up behind Ned, her hands threatening to grab his rear end. She turned to look at Dylan over her shoulder, mischief written all over her face. ‘Behave, and don’t encourage him. You’ll both need all your wits about you tomorrow.’
‘Don’t worry about me, sir,’ she said with a wave of her hand. ‘I’ll be here all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.’
‘It’s not you I’m worried about.’
* * *
The darkness was so complete it was disorientating. The route around the house was nothing more than a cinder path surrounded by dandelions and thistles that flourished in the fissures. The sound of Dylan’s footwear instantly took him back to his youth. He stood at the foot of the cast-iron drainpipe and looked skywards. A titter escaped his lips as he recalled shimmying up the soot covered wall to the broken window above, the one the tree branch poked through. Headlights from passing vehicles on the main road cast a web of flickering light and shadow onto the roof tiles above and the puddles below. It would take a team of men working around the clock for the next year to restore the place to its original beauty, but they had all the time in the world if it was to be their forever home.
