Death's Privilege (26 page)

‘I’ve tried all the keys from her property at the hospital. None of them fit the lock.’ Joel turned the handle and gave it another push, but it didn’t budge. ‘I’m guessing it’s somewhere in the house.’

Hayward pushed against the top of the door and pressed his foot against the bottom. It gave way a little at both ends. ‘It’s just a basic lock. Nothing that strong.’

‘The key will turn up, I don’t think we should—’

Hayward kicked the door and it flew open, rebounding against the wall. ‘What? It’s not like she’s going to bill us.’ He held his hand out for Joel to go in first.

Joel shook his head and walked in first. He only took a few steps before what covered the walls stopped him dead in his tracks.

‘What in hell is this?’ Hayward stepped over to the wall for a closer look.

‘I’d say this was a suggestion of insanity.’

Photos covered the walls. Black and white and cut to awkward shapes. So many, that only specks of cream wallpaper could be seen through the gaps.

‘Suggestion? These ones have faces burnt out of them.’ Hayward pointed at the photos surrounding the light switch.

‘They all do.’ Joel looked around the room. A face was scratched or burnt from every one. ‘A man’s face at that. Clothing gives it away.’

‘Who’s the lady?’ Hayward removed the tack and pulled one of the photos from the wall.

‘Goddard? Hard to tell. Outdated fashion isn’t really my thing.’

Hayward looked him up and down. ‘That surprises me.’

‘Whoever she is, she’s in a lot of these shots. Here’s another woman with a baby.’ Joel walked over to the corner of the room and pulled a photo down. A woman sat holding a baby and a suited man, his face burnt, stood beside her with his hand on her shoulder. ‘This one looks older. Her mother?’

‘Impossible to know.’ Hayward spun around and looked at the walls. ‘Almost every inch covered.’

‘We’ll have to run it by someone who knows her. Sarah’s met her, we’ll take some snaps of the photos in situ to show her and bring them back with us. Let’s get searching the rest of the room.’

In the far corner was a bookshelf and an armchair. On the other side, a PC tower and monitor sat on a small wooden desk, with a carved wooden chair tucked underneath it.

‘There’s not much here. Shouldn’t take too long. The sooner we get out of this room, the better.’ Hayward kept an eye on the photos as he walked towards the desk, as if they were keeping an eye on him too.

‘I’ll do the heavy lifting then.’ Joel lifted the armchair and tilted it onto its back. ‘Nothing under here.’ He looked around. ‘Any lighters, matches, scissors anywhere?’

‘Nothing I can see. Those photos were probably done a while back.’

‘That PC on standby?’

‘Nope.’ Hayward pulled the plugs out from the wall. ‘We’ll take it.’

‘Darn. Was at least hoping for a look at the desktop.’

Yanking the plugs from the wall was standard procedure for seizing computers for two reasons. Computer examinations required formal authorities from senior officers. If eager officers browsed computer files prior to obtaining the authority to do so, they could render the search inadmissible and face disciplinary action. Another reason to pull the plug was, if the owner was savvy enough, there was always the possibility they’d installed a programme that would trigger a system-wide delete should the computer be turned on or woken from sleep using an incorrect method. Terabytes of evidence could disappear with one wrong push of a button. ‘Happy to kick a door in, but not nose around a computer? I’m disappointed.’

‘Oh no, no, no. I learnt that lesson the hard way.’

Joel wondered what he meant, but knew it if was something worth bragging about, Hayward wouldn’t have needed encouragement to do so. ‘These books are old novels, most of which don’t look like they’ve been read in a while. They’re covered in dust.’ Joel took a closer look at the edge of the shelves. On the third shelf down was a smattering of white powder. ‘Sarah mention any suspected drug use?’

‘Not to me, but then she doesn’t really speak to me. What have you got?’

‘White powder on the shelf.’

‘Look anything like this?’ Hayward held up a transparent plastic bag containing five or six smaller bags, all filled with white powder.

‘I’d say so.’

‘In the top desk drawer. Elderly, crazy, drugged-up psychopath with a poison fetish. Can’t wait to see the headlines they come up with.’

‘This room’s out of character with the rest of the house.’

‘You mean, there aren’t half-melted photographs anywhere else? Good spot, Detective.’

‘No, not that, although it explains why it’s the only locked room. The rest of the house is immaculately decorated, full of furniture sets and matching colour schemes.’

‘Funny you’d notice that.’

‘And this is just a chair, unused books and a PC. The only computer in the house, the only modern technology anywhere to be found.’ Joel walked over and took a look at the keyboard. ‘A computer with very little dust on it.’

‘You think she spent her time locked away up here surfing porn sites?’ Hayward chuckled and crouched down to open the bottom desk drawer. He looked uncomfortable, as if he may topple over if given just a little nudge.

‘No. Not porn sites.’ Joel thought about last night’s conversation and wondered, with Valerie poisoning Sarah’s husband, would anything on this computer connect them, like a history of visiting True Connections.

Hayward stood up and wheezed like a re-inflating balloon. He held up a white envelope with a name written on it in black ink. ‘Eric. Who’s Eric?’

The fresh air helped, although the smell of Dales’s cigarette took some of it away. He stood by the side of the emergency doors and stubbed the butt out on the ground when he saw her.

‘He’s going to be okay. He has to stay in for a while. I can’t speak to him just yet. Valerie didn’t make it. And, Ricky, one of Mark’s workmates, didn’t pull through either.’ Valerie’s death tinged her happiness and relief. It made her feel ungrateful. She’d been moments from losing her husband and wouldn’t trade his health for anything. Still, she’d wanted to question her. Wanted to find out the reasons behind it all and feared she never would. ‘The doctor said the symptoms are consistent with strychnine. The same poison used to murder Sheila, just in higher doses. Has Semples been talking?’

‘He’s mostly mumbling in the back of the car. The news is going to devastate him.’ Dales' tone suggested he didn't want to be the one to tell him.

‘Want me to break the news?’

‘If you wouldn’t mind. I’ve updated Manford, he’s alerting the Major Crime Team. The scene is sealed over at the Oxlaine. Hayward and Joel are searching her house. Manford suggested you take the rest of the day off.’

‘That’s good advice. Think I’m likely to take it?’

‘Absolutely not.’

‘Let’s get Semples back to the nick and find out what he knows.’ Sarah sat in the driver’s seat and turned around to see Valerie’s devoted friend, sobbing into his handkerchief in the backseat.

‘How’s my Valerie? Back on her feet, giving the poor nurses hell in there?’

‘Mr Semples, I’m sorry to tell you, Valerie passed away.’

Semples hands shook as he cried.

‘Do you want to see her?’ Sarah wanted to speak to Semples as soon as possible, but wasn’t about to restrict his last moments with his friend, no matter what she’d done.

‘No. No. I don’t want to remember her lying on a hospital bed. She’s not what you think. You don’t know her, you can’t judge.’

‘Well, maybe you can tell us all about her once we get back to the station.’

‘Yes, yes.’

Sarah started the car. They drove back in silence, letting the events of the day settle in. Dales’ phone rang as they turned into the station car park.

‘Dales. Hello. Now? At Moretti’s place? What’s she look like? Thanks for letting me know.’ He hung up. ‘That was the surveillance team. A woman matching Leilani’s description is banging on Moretti’s door, screaming that she’s going to kill her.’

Sarah turned the car around. ‘Take Semples inside, I’ll head over.’

Dales coaxed Semples out of the car. Sarah accelerated out of the nick and towards Tower Road.

Twenty-Five

‘Let me in. Let me in or I’ll fucking kill you.’ Leilani screamed and thumped the door.

Moretti looked down from the upstairs window and froze when Sarah opened the gate. Leilani turned around. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’d like to report a kidnapping.’ Leilani pushed her ruffled hair back and smiled. She stepped towards Sarah and pointed up at the window. ‘Arrest that crazy bitch.’

‘Leilani Hayes, you’re under arrest for the blackmail of Joel Johnson.’ Sarah took out her cuffs with her left hand and took hold of Leilani’s wrist with her right.

‘Joel Johnson?’ Her calm, confident demeanour dropped along with her smile. She spat her words out. ‘Joel Johnson knows what he did. I’m sure he charmed his way past you with a pack of lies.’ Leilani tried pulling her arm away with a look of disbelief that anyone dared handle her this way. ‘One call will sort out our Joel Johnson problem.’

Leilani reached into her pocket with her free hand and pulled out her phone. Sarah bladed her left hand, twisted it bottom side up and reached underneath Leilani’s right armpit. She rolled Leilani’s shoulder, bending her forward. The phone hit the ground and the screen smashed. Sarah heard a female voice on the other end. ‘Hello? Hello? You okay?’

Leilani tried to pull away. Sarah swept her legs and slammed her to the ground. She ratcheted her cuffs, pinned her wrists to the small of her back and wrapped them in cold metal.

‘Stupid bitch. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing. You’re wasting your time with me. The real criminal is in there.’

‘You do not have to say anything. And, quite frankly, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.’ It wasn't quite the official police caution, but Sarah felt it suited best how she felt about the situation.

Sirens wailed as the response unit arrived. Sarah stayed crouched with her knee in Leilani’s shoulder until the uniformed officer took over the position. Leilani was still wriggling, but her venom wouldn’t last much longer.

‘Could you run her back to the nick for me? Book her in for threats to kill Sally-Anne Moretti, for now. I'll fill custody in on the full details when I get back.’

The officer stood Leilani up and searched her, producing a flick knife from her waistband, before walking her to the rear of her police vehicle.

Moretti opened her front door. ‘Thanks. Didn’t think she’d ever get lost. You look like shit.’

‘Thanks, Sally-anne. Nice to see you again too.’ Sarah had rubbed off most of the makeup that had survived the tears, but it seemed that wasn’t enough to escape Moretti’s keen sense of what a terrible day looked like. ‘We need to talk.’ A large, black leather duffel bag packed to burst, a trolley bag, a rucksack and a child-sized backpack stood stacked just inside the door. ‘Planning a trip? Not too long, I hope.’

‘It’s mostly kid’s toys.’ She tapped the duffel bag. ‘The little guy has expensive taste.’

Moretti stood straight and rigid as if expecting Sarah to launch at her. It was a reaction learned from years of dealing with the heavy-handed drug squads and cocksure response officers. Sarah didn’t move.

‘Give me a minute.’ She closed the door. Sarah heard her say, ‘Go upstairs. Don’t come down until I call you, okay honey?’ The door opened again and she waved Sarah in.

The lounge was almost empty. The furnishings remained, just enough to rent it out. The decorations had been taken down and the toys that littered the floor had gone. The space where the big TV stand had been left a mark on the carpet and the walls were bare.

‘Now, I know that TV isn’t crammed into one of those bags,’ said Sarah, noticing how plain and ordinary her living arrangements felt now the rooms were empty and the hallmarks of fine living had gone.

‘I needed to make a quick buck. When you grew up the way I did, you end up knowing a fair few people who can shift high-value stuff quickly and with minimal hassle.’

‘I bet they had a field day in here.’

‘They’re not all bad, you know.’

‘Where’d all that inheritance go?’

‘All good things come to an end.’ Moretti shrugged.

‘Where are you planning on going?’

Moretti was still on bail and the look on her face suggested she was more than conscious of that fact. ‘I’m not returning on bail, if that’s what you want to know. You’ll have to arrest me to get me to stay in this town. You saw how crazy that woman is. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, we were just messing around. That’s how it started, at least. Now she’s busting down my door.’

‘She had a flick knife in her bag; she wasn’t planning on stopping with your door. What’s all this about?’

‘We go way back. She’s been kicked around her whole life. Into all sorts. She wanted to go straight. Ditch the street life. She scrubbed up well, so her looks opened a few doors. I was proud of her, you know. She got a job and a regular income. I had a newborn and nothing.’

‘At the Oxlaine?’

‘Yeah, reception work. Nothing fancy, but she was able to move out of our digs and rent a proper place. I saw less of her, which is the way these things go. Then one day she turns up in a new car, wearing fancy clothes. Not crazy high end, but too much for reception work. I assumed it was on cards. You can’t get a credit card turning tricks on street corners, so I thought in the excitement of finally having a job, she’d signed up to whatever she could. Banks aren’t exactly choosy about who they lend to.

‘She sang a tune about a rich aunt dying. I called her bullshit and it turned out her boss had given her a bonus. A five-figure bonus. After that, the money kept coming. We lost touch for a while; I got tired of hearing how well things were going. I was happy for her, but didn’t want it rubbed in my face.’

Sarah heard footsteps at the top of the stairs.

‘He’s a nosey little fella.’ Moretti continued, leaning forward.

‘We had it out one day and she told me the truth. She hadn’t received a penny in gifts, her boss had been paying her. Paying her to toy with men.’