DARK CRIMES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (3 page)

‘Donna Goodenough?’ she called. ‘Are you here? It’s the police.’

She went into the hallway, indicating that Marsh and Pillay should follow. ‘You stay here,’ she told Melsom and the uniformed men.

The flat was compact but had been well looked after, with clean surfaces and polished furniture. There were two bedrooms, one double and one single, a bathroom, a small galley-style kitchen and a lounge-diner. The main rooms showed signs of having been ransacked, with some drawers and cupboards partly emptied. Pillay spotted a photograph lying on the floor behind a chair. It showed an attractive, dark-haired young woman sitting on a sunny beach smiling at the camera. It was their victim without any doubt. Sophie had been looking at that very face little over an hour before, on a mortuary bench. Several other young people were in the background, sitting under a parasol and appearing to talk to each other. Their features were difficult to make out from their position in the shade.

‘We need a very quick look for anything that we can use to trace friends, family and acquaintances. Mobile phone, address book, diary, that kind of thing. Lydia, you take the bedrooms. Barry, the kitchen. I’ll do in here. Don’t disturb anything. If you do, forensics will have a fit.’

She called through to Melsom. ‘Jimmy, get gloves and suits for us from the car, then seal off the house. Call back to the station and tell them to get forensics organised. Tell the people downstairs to remain in their flat.’

They found nothing of any use. Whoever had ransacked the flat had left all items of value, but had removed anything that could have helped them.

‘Find out what you can about her,’ she said to Marsh and Pillay. ‘Speak to the people in the lower flat. Next-of-kin details as soon you can. Find out if anyone saw or heard anything unusual here yesterday. Jimmy and I will pay a visit to the hotel.’

* * *

Sophie parked her car on the High Street outside the hotel, close to the top end of Spring Hill. She walked across to the start of the path. From here the steep gradient was more obvious, the pathway falling away quickly from where they stood. David Nash, the leader of the forensic team, saw her and came up the slope.

‘We’ve just about finished, and I’m afraid that we haven’t found anything of great importance. There was little significant blood spray pattern on the wall or the ground because of the thickness of her coat, mainly leakage out onto the surface. We did some blood treatment of the surfaces and took some ultraviolet shots. You’ll have them later. There are some curious smudge marks there but nothing obvious. And nothing else to be found up here.’ He paused. ‘But down there a few yards beyond where her body was, is a rough track in what would be deep shadow at night. We found a couple of cigarette butts just at the junction. And they don’t look as though they’ve been there long. Might be useful.’

‘That’s good, Dave. It might be too much to expect some DNA?’

‘We can but hope, but we had a lot of rain overnight. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’

‘No sign of the knife?’

‘Not as far as I know. We’ve been concentrating just on the immediate area up here, but I think we’d have heard if it had been found.’

‘Umbrella?’

‘Again, no.’

Sophie nodded and turned back up the slope towards the hotel. She and Melsom hurried to the main entrance and entered a warm, panelled reception area. She introduced herself at the desk and the hotel manager, a soberly dressed, dark-haired woman in her forties, quickly appeared and ushered them into her office. She looked pale, but was businesslike as she spoke to the two officers.

‘I’m Jenny Burrows, the manager. I can’t tell you how shocked we all are by this. Is it true?’

‘Officially, I can’t confirm or deny until we have a firm identification, but unofficially we are almost certain. And that information is for you only, Mrs Burrows. If any of the staff ask, just say that you can’t comment at present. I’d like you to tell me about Donna if you can. Start with her employment here.’

‘She started with us only three months ago. We lost a lot of our temporary summer staff when the universities and colleges went back, and we were under-staffed in the bar for the autumn. It can still be quite busy here right through to Christmas. We advertised, and Donna was the best of the people who responded. I have to say that she’s been terrific. Always willing to lend a hand and do extra if needed. I was only talking to her a couple of days ago about moving her into reception work to get more experience. I think she had the makings of a really good manager once she’d got the training.’

‘What was her background?’

‘Apparently she dropped out of a university degree halfway through. I don’t know the reason. She wouldn’t talk about it when I asked at her interview, just saying that it was in the past and she wanted to forget it. I only know that it was some type of business degree. She was obviously very intelligent.’ She paused. ‘Look, I need some tea. I just feel numbed by all this. Would you like some?’

Sophie nodded. ‘Please.’

The manager called through to reception to make the request. Sophie continued her questioning.

‘Where was she from?’

‘She had some local connections. Her grandmother lived in Swanage and Donna’s flat was left to her by her gran when she died. That’s why she decided to come here. It’s also possible that her mother lives fairly locally. I think that she might live in a cottage in one of the villages. I don’t know which one. Donna didn’t talk about her mother anywhere near as much as her gran.’

‘Who would know which village?’

‘She was often on duty with one of our other girls, Maria Jones. She might know.’

She pulled her jacket closer in. Her hands were trembling.

‘This is just awful. I can’t believe it’s happening.’ Tears welled up in her eyes.

‘Is there anyone else, Mrs Burrows? Who else might know?’ Sophie asked.

‘I’ve heard that she’s been seeing one of our junior chefs, Vilis Berzins. He’s from Latvia.’

‘I’d like to see them both please, once we’ve finished.’

Jenny Burrows looked ashen. ‘Maria’s in, but Vilis didn’t turn up for the lunchtime session. Chef phoned through with the news just before you arrived.’

‘Can you get his address, please, and give it to DC Melsom here? Meanwhile I’ll see Maria. Is there another office I can use?’

‘He doesn’t have a separate address, Chief Inspector. He stays in our staff accommodation, and he doesn’t seem to be there. No one’s seen him since breakfast.’

Sophie thought quickly.

‘I need that office, if you could find one quickly. Then, please, find Maria and send her along. Can you then get me a list of everyone on the kitchen staff? Find the person who was closest to this Vilis Berzins and send him along too. When did he finish work yesterday?’

‘He was on the evening shift, so he would have been here until about ten thirty.’

‘Sorry if my manner appears a bit sharp,’ Sophie replied. ‘You’ve been very helpful so far. Could you do one more thing, and secure the door of Berzins’ room, please?’

She looked at Melsom. ‘Jimmy, could you go along with Mrs Burrows? Get a couple of uniformed guys up here. I want all the staff to remain on site until we’ve spoken to them, and I don’t want anyone to go into his room. If necessary, stay there until someone else arrives. Then get a description of Berzins from the chef and confirm his shift time yesterday, and when he left. Phone the description across to the station, and ask them to keep a lookout for him. Get them to put it out to the other stations and the port authorities in Poole. Okay?’

She was shown into a small room just along the corridor. She phoned Marsh, asking him to come up to the hotel as soon as he’d finished interviewing Donna’s neighbours.

* * *

Maria was shaking with sobs when she arrived to see Sophie, who poured her a cup of tea to help calm her down. She was younger than Donna, about eighteen. She was short and a little stout, with straight black hair held back in a ponytail. She wasn’t heavily made-up, but her tears had made her mascara run.

‘Maria, we need your help. Mrs Burrows tells me that Donna’s mother lives locally, but doesn’t know where. Do you?’

‘I think she lives in Corfe. I don’t know exactly where, but I got the idea it was on the west side of the village. It’s an old cottage, I think.’

‘Have you ever met her mother?’

Maria shook her head.

Does she have the same name as Donna? Goodenough?’

Maria nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘What about Vilis, Maria? How long has Donna been seeing him?’

‘About two months, I think. But it can’t be him. He’s so sweet. Honestly, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. She really liked him. She was only saying a couple of days ago that they could have a future together.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind, Maria. Tell me something else, if you can. When she started here, did she have some bruises on her face and arms?’

‘I don’t know about her arms, she always had them covered. But she said that she’d fallen off a bike and got bashed on her face. It wasn’t obvious. She used special make-up to cover the marks, otherwise she wouldn’t have got the job here. Mrs Burrows is very particular about the way we look. I only saw them because we were going out one evening and I called at her flat. I was early, and she hadn’t finished her make-up.’

She blew her nose.

‘Did she ever mention it again?’

‘No. I kind of got the feeling that she was a bit annoyed at me for mentioning the marks. So I never asked again. She was nice and everything, but she was a bit different to the rest of us on the bar staff.’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, she was cleverer. She knew a lot. And she kind of took control, a bit like you or Mrs Burrows. I never asked about the face-marks again.'

‘And was this before or after she started seeing Vilis?’

‘Oh, well before that. I’ve told you, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Lots of these guys from Eastern Europe really try it on with us, but he didn’t. He’s nice. I tried to get off with him once, but he wasn’t interested. He’s always kept himself to himself. Sends a lot of his money home to his family. But he fell for Donna big time. She’s got class, and he saw that. And she’s really pretty.’

Maria had brightened up as she was telling her story, but as she finished she started crying again. Maybe she realised that she’d switched to the present tense, thought Sophie.

‘I think that’s all for now, Maria. You’ve been very helpful. We’ll need a statement from you. One of my officers will take that later. Meanwhile if anything else occurs to you that could help us in any way, then find me or someone else from my squad. Here’s my card. It has my personal contact numbers if you need them.’

Maria left, still sobbing. Sophie called the station and asked for a trace on the mother’s address in Corfe. It came back as Cornerstone Cottage in West Street.

When she’d finished her call, she opened the door to a young man dressed in kitchen whites who looked nervous. His face was bony and pale-featured, with eyes of a washed-out blue.

‘Come in. You are a friend of Vilis’s?’

He nodded. His facial expression gave nothing away.

‘What is your name?’

‘Georgs Vitols. I too am a trainee chef.’

Are you from Latvia as well, Georgs?’

‘Yes, we came across together.’

‘It appears that he has gone missing. Do you know why?’

‘No. But Vilis wouldn’t be involved in any crime. He is very good man. He has no violence in him.’ Georgs spoke with a pronounced Eastern European accent.

‘But why has he disappeared, Georgs?’

‘I cannot say. He went out after breakfast for a walk. He buys a newspaper sometimes. He says it will improve his English. He did not come back.’

Does he have a mobile phone?’

Georgs shrugged.

‘You’ve tried phoning him? No answer?’

This time there was a single nod.

‘What was he wearing?’

‘Blue clothes. He wears blue a lot. It is the colour of his favourite football team at home.’

‘How old is he? About your age?’

The young man shook his head as if he didn’t know.

‘Where might he go, Georgs? Does he have a favourite spot? Maybe where he goes with Donna?’

He shrugged.

‘Georgs, if I don’t get your cooperation, you may find that your time here will soon be over. I think you do know where he could be. A word from me in the right ears, and you could be on an early flight back to Latvia. Now I’ll ask again, where does he go on his walks?’

The answer was sullen. ‘Sometimes just along the front. But they sometimes walk to the point.’

‘And exactly how old is he?’ asked Sophie.

‘Twenty.’

‘Right, thank you. You can go now, but you’ll be interviewed fully by another officer later. And I’ll expect you to be more helpful then. Stay in the building, please, and give me your mobile phone.’

‘You can’t do that.’

‘This is a murder enquiry. Your phone has his contact number, and I don’t want him warned. Hand it over or I’ll arrest you for obstructing us in our inquiries.’