Coming, Ready or Not (D.S. Hunter Kerr Book 4) (19 page)

Five minutes later, holding two freshly brewed cups of tea, Hunter returned to Mike Sampson
’s desk and seated himself opposite Barry. He pushed across a steaming mug.

‘
I went to see Peter and Lynda Hayes yesterday.’

‘
Yeah, I saw that you and Grace had been given the task. How are they doing? I bet they got a surprise when you told them we’re re-investigating Polly’s murder.’

‘
A bit, but I think they were more pleased than anything.’ He took a sip of his tea. ‘While I was talking to them something cropped up about some nuisance telephone calls they’d had, which started a week or so before Polly’s murder. But I couldn’t find anything about them in the statements they made.’

Barry
’s eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, yeah. I remember that enquiry. There weren’t just them who received them. Her best mate, Lucy Stringer, reported, or at least her parents reported, having received some as well. We looked into both reports. In Lucy’s case the calls were just silent. I think she had a half a dozen in total. And, as you’re aware, Polly had four, one of which she mentioned that she heard a male voice counting backwards.’

Hunter nodded.
‘Did you manage to trace them?’

‘
Yeah we did. To a call box next to the main post office.’

‘
And did you get anywhere with them? Find out who made them?’

‘
Barry shook his head. ‘Drew a complete blank. They were brought up on quite a few occasions during the investigation, but we couldn’t bottom them. And as they weren’t threatening or anything, and the fact that they stopped, we were never able to follow them up.’

The minute Hunter walked in through the front door he was ambushed by his youngest son.

Daniel squealed,
‘Daddy,’ and wrapped his skinny arms around one of Hunter’s legs, as if holding onto a tree trunk. He planted his bottom onto his foot.

Hunter dropped down his briefcase and
clomped Daniel elephant-like towards the kitchen. He deposited him in the doorway. ‘Daniel Kerr, you’re getting far too heavy for me to be doing this.’

His youngest looked up at him and flashed him his
twinkling blue eyes. Daniel chuckled and dashed away towards the stairs. ‘Want a game of FIFA, Dad?’

Hunter
caught sight of Beth washing pots at the sink. He shouted back over his shoulder. ‘Fire it up, young man, I’m just going to have a quick word with your mum, and then I’ll be up them stairs to whup the backside off you.’ From the upstairs landing he heard Daniel give out a giggle. He called up to him, ‘Load me up as Scotland.’

Shucking off his jacket, he draped it
over the back of a chair and moved in behind his wife. He slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled the nape of her neck. He caught the floral aroma of her perfume.

She
half-turned her head and blew him a kiss. ‘My hands are wet,’ she said, wiggling her fingers and dipped them back into the soapy water. Continuing to wash a plate, she added, ‘You’re home early. You should have let me know, I’d have got you something to eat. Jonathan and Daniel have just finished theirs.’

‘
I promised I’d get done early.’

She threw him a questioning look.
‘Now, how many times have I heard that, Hunter Kerr?’

Hunter
smirked, pulled away his hands and tapped her bottom. ‘Cheeky mare,’ he said and went to the fridge. Pulling out a carton of orange juice, he took a swig, stopping mid-gulp as he caught Beth send a scowl his way. He removed the neck of the carton from his mouth, offered back a child-like look of innocence, before seeking out a glass from the side. Sarcastically, he showed her the glass, poured himself some juice and took a long gulp. ‘I’m not bothered about anything to eat just yet. I had a late lunch. I’ll get myself something later.’ He took another drink. ‘I said I’d be home, because aren’t you out with the girls from work tonight?’

Beth placed the wet plate onto the draining board, picked up a towel, and turned around drying her hands.
‘We’re trying out a new place that’s just opened up. The menu looks pretty good. You didn’t need to rush home though you know. I was going to get your mum to come round and babysit.’

‘
Well, I’m here now so you can get yourself sorted, can’t you.’ He checked his watch and with a dead-pan look said, ‘You’ve got bags of time to put your slap on. And believe me you need it. Them wrinkles are really starting to show now.’

Beth scrunched up the towel and
slung it at him. ‘Cheeky sod,’ she smirked as she marched away. Calling back she added, ‘And just for that you can bath them and sort out their supper. They’re on form today.’

Hunter laughed after Beth as she disappeared out of the kitchen.
He drained his glass and followed. He wanted to tell her about Barry while she was getting ready.

Beth had been picked up by a colleague at 8.00 p.m. leaving him to sort out the boys. Thankfully, Jonathan and Daniel had gone off to bed without any fuss. After reading them a story he’d climbed into the shower and changed into a T-shirt and joggers. Now he was getting himself settled down for the evening, and with that, he decided he could do with a drink to help him unwind. He selected his favourite Islay, single malt, and added a generous measure of whisky to the three chunks of ice in his tumbler. He flopped down onto the sofa and swirled the contents around under his nose. The peaty aroma teased his nostrils. He took a sip, and the amber fluid caught the back of his throat, instantly warming his gullet. It was a pleasing sensation. Cradling the glass mid-chest, he rested back his head and listened to the sounds of the heating system ticking around him. He closed his eyes, but only momentarily. Flicking them open, he rested his gaze upon the cardboard box, on the coffee table, which he’d recovered earlier from the boot of his car. Beth, going out, had given him the ideal opportunity to check its contents. It had been so long ago that he could no longer remember what was in there. He took another slug of his drink, set down the glass on the coffee table and dragged the box towards him.

Glancing downwards, the road glistened before him, washed by the sudden downpour ten minutes earlier. His thoughts started to drift. For a moment he questioned what he was doing here, then, the sound of sloshing car tyres drew back his attention and he caught sight of her car coming into view.

His breath tightened as it
slowed before him. He followed its progress as it swung into the driveway directly opposite from where he was watching.

The security lamp above the garage activated
, lighting up the whole of her Audi TT, and reflected brightly in the puddles on the drive and front garden.

He tensed
and checked his watch.

She was later than usual.

Pulling the hood of his waterproof further over his face, he slunk back into the shadows.

From his
hiding place, across the road, he heard the engine cease and saw the interior light come on as she pushed open the driver’s door. He took a deep breath and held it, scrutinising her as she eased herself out of the low-roofed sports car.

Leaning
back into the car, she dragged out her work bag, and then as she slammed the car door she looked over her shoulder.

In his direction.

He froze.

The glance was momentary. She checked her bag was fastened, straightened her top coat and then walked towards the front door.

He heard the clip
and splash of her heels on the concrete path, and caught sight of her slender calves. He thought she’d lost some weight. And she’d grown her hair. He strained his eyes to get a better look. She’d altered the style as well. He watched her put the key in the lock, push the door open and step into the brightly lit hallway. As she closed the door, he let out the breath he had been holding. For a minute stars danced before his eyes and he went light-headed. He had held it too long. He took a couple of shallow breaths and very quickly his sight readjusted. Poking his head out from the shadows he was just in time to see her pass by the lounge window. He caught her embrace the man who lived there.

Her Lover.

He could feel his heart beginning to palpitate as an icy fury flooded through him..

Who did she think she was
? The fucking bitch. He’d show her. She was soon going to get her comeuppance. Make no mistake.

- ooOoo -

Day Thirteen: 30th March.

The noise in the MIT room fell to a hush as Detective Superintendent Leggate made her way to the front of the room. She stopped beside the three incident boards. They had all been updated with the previous day’s information. And an arrangement of new photographs provided a montage around the black ink timelines. On Elisabeth Bertolutti’s board two coloured, computer generated, e-fit photographs took centre stage. They were a head-and-shoulder composition of two white men – clean shaven with short, dark hair. Both bore similar features.

Dawn Leggate picked up a marker pen and took her time scribing beneath each picture. She pulled her head back to check her handwriting.
She had written the names DALE and SCOTT in bold.

She underlined the names, tapped the e-fits and faced the squad.
‘Our latest suspects,’ she announced. ‘If you think they look similar, it’s because they are. We think the pair are brothers. Our witness, Linane Brazier helped put these together yesterday afternoon after speaking with Tony and Grace.’ She zeroed in on Tony Bullars. ‘Do you want to tell us about your interview with her?’

Tony pulled himself out of his slouch.
Pushing a comb of fingers through his light brown hair he ran his eyes amongst his colleagues. ‘As you know, following the discovery of Elisabeth’s calls to West Midlands Police, me and Grace did another video interview with Linane. We played that recording of Elisabeth’s nine-nine-nine call, and without any prompting she instantly volunteered those two names to us. She also told us that the first thing Elisabeth had said, when she Skyped her, was something to the effect of, “You won’t believe what’s happened to me today” and that she’d tell her later. She wasn’t able to tell her later, because, as we all know, she was murdered. As soon as Linane mentioned that, we all felt Elisabeth was referring to the incident of her being followed,’ he pointed to the e-fit pictures, ‘by the one calling himself Dale.’ He paused and then continued, ‘And, the reason she said that is because of the incident in the bar, in which I got involved. That is the only thing, out of the ordinary, that has happened to either of them. Linane told us that she and Elisabeth first came across those two a couple of months ago. They met the pair in a bar near one of the theatres they’d been to in London. They approached them bold as brass, introduced themselves, and offered to buy Linane and Elisabeth a drink. But they’d already made arrangements to meet up with some friends for a bite to eat at an Italian and so turned them down. They did chat with them for a while, mainly about the show they’d been to. Then, they finished their drinks and left. It was during that first meeting that they found out the pair were brothers. As far as Linane was concerned that was it. Then, about a week later, they bumped into them again, in a different bar. She thinks it was in Covent Garden this time. After that, they’d bump into them almost every weekend, have a couple of drinks, but after an hour of chatting, Linane and Elisabeth would meet up with their friends, as arranged, and these two guys would make their excuses and disappear. Then after the fourth, or fifth time of bumping into one another Dale made it quite obvious he fancied Elisabeth. Linane says that one night he chatted up Elisabeth big style, but she made it quite plain she wasn’t interested. He wasn’t her type. He was loud, self-opinionated and a bit arrogant, as Linane put it. On that occasion he wrote his mobile number on the back of her hand and told her to give him a ring. She never did. Apparently the argument they had in the bar, where I first met Linane, was because of that. It appears that Dale came up to Elisabeth, much the worse for wear for drink, and asked her why she hadn’t rung him. She told him she wasn’t interested and to leave her alone. He called her a “stuck up bitch” and she swiped out at him, and that’s where I came in.’ Tony danced his gaze around the room. ‘You know the rest from yesterday’s briefing.’ He dipped his head towards Elisabeth Bertolutti’s incident board. ‘I’m afraid though, that although Linane says those e-fits are a reasonable likeness, and the fact that Dale and Scott are brothers, that’s where it ends. She knows very little about the pair. She’s no idea of where they live or where they’re from, other than she got the impression they lived somewhere in the London area. Though, she doesn’t recall if that came out in a conversation or not.’ Tony nodded towards Detective Superintendent Leggate; an indication that he was done.

Marker pen still in hand, she tapped Dale
’s e-fit picture. ‘Okay, today’s assignment, we try and find out who these two are. Run their names through the computer. PNC and CIS checks. See if anything comes up. And I want these two pictures circulating. All Forces.’ She set the pen down. ‘I’ve spoken with Headquarters and with the Press Office. We’re arranging a press conference for this afternoon. It’ll be going out on the local and national news this evening. I’m more than convinced that our crimes are linked, and that we are searching for the same killer, and that’s what I’m going to reveal. Once I make that announcement there’s a fair bet we’ll be inundated with calls. I want them all recorded and assessed.’ She pointed towards the still CCTV image of the masked man on Gemma Cooke’s incident board. ‘Now let’s see if we can catch our killer and put this enquiry to bed.’

Senses on high alert he gently eased the door shut and tiptoed into the kitchen. He wasn’t exactly sure the house was empty. He’d watched them both leave in their cars twenty minutes earlier, but he’d only discovered their whereabouts yesterday and he had not had time to get to know the lie of the land. This wasn’t his usual method of working but he recalled his training. Sometimes you needed to adapt.

A sharp
fizzing sound fractured the silence and made him jump. He stood stock-still and tensed. Suddenly, the smell of lavender assailed his nostrils; it was the air freshener. He checked himself, smiled and took a step forward. He made his way across the kitchen, into the hallway, where the staircase dog-legged up to the first floor. Careful not to grab the banister, even with gloved hands, he rested his foot on the bottom step and craned his head forward. Listening. He remained like that for the best part of a minute, and then confident he had the house to himself, for at least a couple of hours, he crept upwards.

Dawn Leggate sauntered into the kitchen. Michael was chopping vegetables next to the sink. She set down her bag on the kitchen table and let out a sigh.

Michael glanced over his shoulder.
‘Do want to pour us a drink?’ He dropped chunks of carrot into a dish and set it to one side. ‘Dinner’ll be another hour at least.’

Dawn took out a bottle of white wine from the fridge, poured two glasses and handed one to Michael.

He raised it in a salutatory gesture and took a sip. Licking his lips, he said, ‘I didn’t expect you to be home this early. How’s it going?’

‘
Okay, I suppose. Nothing earth-shattering had come in when I left. A couple of the usual crank calls, like you normally get with these things.’ She took a lingering drink of the chilled Chardonnay, and eyeing him over the rim of her glass said, ‘How did I do?’

‘
You were good. Despite the handicap.’

‘
Handicap?’

Fighting back the urge to laugh he answered,
‘The foreign language.’

She narrowed her eyes.
‘Ooh, you Sassenach. You’ve some need to talk with that Yorkshire hill-farmer accent.’

He let out a hearty laugh.
‘No, you did good. It was a good conference. You got everything across. The TV did you proud. As I say, I’m surprised you got home so early, I thought you would have been inundated with calls.’

‘
The phones weren’t exactly red-hot when I left. Half a dozen of the team are staying on until midnight to see if anything comes in after the ten o’clock news.’ She took another sip of her wine. The unexpected muffled ringtone of her work mobile grabbed her attention. She diverted her gaze towards her work bag. Setting down her glass she began guddling around in its side pockets. Fishing out her phone, she hurriedly gazed at the screen. She didn’t recognise the number, but a call on her BlackBerry could only mean one thing.

She answered it.

A female, with a slightly gravelly voice, said, ‘Superintendent Leggate. This is Detective Sergeant Macey, Metropolitan Police. I’m sorry to bother you at home. One of your officers gave me your number.’

‘
No need to apologise. How can I help you?’

‘
I saw you on the news. The Press Conference.’

‘
Oh yes, is this to do with the case?’

‘
I think so. I believe I may have something, which may be of interest to you.’

‘
What do you have for me, DS Macey?’

‘
It’s about the locket. The locket with the initials JC. I think it’s come from one of our jobs.’

- ooOoo -