Dying to Meet You (9 page)

When they arrived he had
straightened himself up to meet them.

‘Take your dog away, now, please, Mr Wherrett. You live in the cottage by the park gates? Right. Go back home now. Have a cup of tea and someone will come and question you presently.’ Peterson said to the pale and still visibly agitated Park Keeper.

‘Thank you, Superintendent. I’ll be there when you need me.’

Peterson stared down into the water. The girl looked as if
she had been strangled. Was she a local girl or a holidaymaker? It was going to be difficult to identify her without a stitch of clothing. They had to hope that her family came forward soon to report her missing.

The
Scene of Crime officers started covering the grass banks and gravel paths inch by inch looking for clues and taking essential pictures. Granger arrived soon afterwards to swell their numbers. ‘Good morning, Superintendent. You nearly didn’t get me,’ he announced cheerfully. ‘I was called out for an emergency; a home birth early this morning. Baby was a whopper nearly ten and half pounds. Hello, what have we got here then? God! No - don’t tell me, is this another one?’

‘It seems like it.’

‘Another young woman submerged in water.’ He shook his head and groaned. ‘Can’t you find any attached to the land for me?’ he said waiting for them to carefully untie and detach the body from the paddle boat and bring it up out of the water.

‘She’s young - hardly more than a school kid,’ he commented as the body was brought out and put down carefully on the grassy bank. ‘She’s taken a battering about the head like the first victim but not gutted like the last one,’ he said looking down at the sad battered face of the young victim.

‘Death by strangulation, the throat bruised like before - there’s something twisted around a silver chain with a pendant attached.’ He queried this with his eyes on Peterson and Farmer. ‘Possibly been sexually assaulted.’

‘Thanks, Granger.’

‘Same as before then, practically,’ Farmer said grimly with a frown.

Peterson shook her head and sighed. ‘When is it going to stop? How’s he picking them? Just look at her. This youngster
... she’s barely out of the cradle. It’s going to worry all the local parents sick.’

‘
I think this is the connection,’ the police surgeon said as he indicated again the silver chain that was wound tightly into the raw, bruised neck. ‘If I’m not mistaken this girl is wearing a pendant which is very similar to those belonging to the other two victims.’

‘Well so she is,’ said Trask taking a closer look and chewing briskly on his gum. ‘What does it mean?’

‘That’s what you’ll have to find out,’ said Peterson. ‘Jude Van Hoet wore one and Linda. Jude Van Hoet’s was an expensive gold number decorated with small diamonds and this one is set in silver. But it’s the same astrological sign of Cancer the crab,’ she said taking a closer look examining the tiny silver pendant with her gloved hand. ‘Well at least it’s a start. Something to work on. Tell the Park keeper to keep the gates closed till the forensics are done here. We don’t want crowds getting in the way.’

‘Let’s hope that somebody comes forward quick to identify the
girl.’

‘There must be somebody who
had reported that she’s gone missing,’ Trask said thinking of his own young daughters back at home. He wondered how he could possibly face up to losing either of them in this way.

Twenty-Four

There was something important niggling in Farmer’s head. And Mel Goring had something to do with it. He knew she wrote a daily Astrology column for her newspaper. He needed somebody more clued up on Astrology than he was with all three victims born under the same star sign. It could mean that other women sharing the sign of Cancer could also be in danger.

He called Mel Goring at the
Observer
office and got her answer phone. He left a message. ‘Can we meet? It’s important. DI Nick Farmer.’

He gave her his private mobile number.
She replied by text message:

‘MEET YOU ON PIER BY TICKET OFFICE AT SIX. MEL.’

*

When Farmer arrived he saw Mel leaning back against the pier rails wearing a pretty green print dress, reminding him of a girl on one of those old railway posters advertising seaside holidays. She grinned and waved when she saw him walking towards her.

‘Hi, Farmer. This is a surprise. What can you possibly want with me?’

He grinned. ‘Have you eaten? I’m starving. Can I treat you to a meal? Then we’ll talk.’

‘Talk? Are you serious?’ She laughed running her hand through her hair out of eyes. ‘Okay, I’m all yours. I warn you though in
advance, I’m hungry.’

They visited one of the good Italian restaurants on the high street in the old town. Nick found that he was getting quite a buzz from her company. Over a glass of wine they studied one another cautiously across the table, like a pair of gunfighters preparing for high noon, although there was amusement brimming in those challenging brown eyes. She was attracting
plenty of interested eyes from other male diners seated around them he noted.

‘Pax,’ she announced suddenly. ‘Come on, no messing. Just get on with it. What do you really want from me, Farmer?’

Plenty. His thoughts were far from innocent as his eyes travelled slowly over the soft curves of her breasts seductively suggested by the lines of her dress. A forkful of lasagne paused on the way to his mouth. ‘First of all I must know whether I can trust you? Can I?’

She pursed her mouth wryly, took another sip of white wine
and said, ‘Can I trust you Farmer?’

‘You can
... I need your help. Linda was wearing a pendant when she was found.’ Interest flared in her eyes instantly. ‘She always wore it and it was the astrological sign of Cancer - yes?’

She nodded. ‘Sure - it was my birthday present to her last year. Why do you ask? You think it’s important?’

‘Could be.’ He clicked his fingers to the waiter. ‘Coffee? Irish whisky?’ She nodded. ‘Two coffees with Irish whisky, please.’

She grinned. ‘A-ah! Now I’ve got it. You want to get me tight so you can challenge my astrological skills? Am I right, DI Farmer?’

He frowned. ‘Yes - I would like your help in the astrological field if you’ll give it to me.’

‘And can I ask you a question now?’

‘You can...’

‘
Am I right in thinking then that all three victims were wearing similar pendants? With the same sign of Cancer the crab, right?’

He pursed his lips and said, ‘Right.’

‘So - tell me exactly how things were with Jude Van Hoet when she was found? I only know that she was killed in the Orchid Club - was she damaged and hurt as badly as Linda?’

He f
rowned and said, ‘Much worse. That’s all you and the public need to know for the moment.’ He saw the sceptical look flash into her brown eyes. ‘Okay, all I can tell you now is that she was found cut up in the shower cabinet with the water left running over her.’ He held his cup tightly in his fist. ‘It was a good imitation of Jack the Ripper at his worst - you can make your own mind up on that. But don’t quote this. I trust you don’t want to give your readers nightmares.’

‘My editor wouldn’t wear it for a start. And the latest one, the young girl? She was found in the park, wasn’t she?
Was she dunked in water too?’

The tone of her voice was deadly serious now, all teasing vanished.

He nodded. ‘Yeah she was young, tied to a paddle boat in the boating lake - and I know where you’re coming from now - I think.’

‘You do? Okay.’ She nodded slowly. ‘You’ve told me that all three victims were found in water; the natural element of the Cancer the Crab sign.’ She laughed. ‘This is what you wanted me to confirm, isn’t it, Farmer?’

He pursed his lips together ruefully then grinned. ‘It is. Thanks.’

‘There’s more to this chat though, isn’t there?’

He leaned over towards her. ‘I need you to tell me more if you can. What would make someone plan to murder young women born under that star sign?’

She was quiet. She drank her coffee thinking hard for a moment. He studied her cautiously. ‘You wouldn’t be one of them by any chance? It’s not your sign too, is it, Cancer?’

She shook her head. ‘No, not me.’ She chuckled. ‘I’m much too fiery by nature. I’m an Aries, Farmer! Surely you might have guessed that by now.’ Her head on one side she crinkled her nose and smiled back at him mischievously. ‘And I reckon, let me see now... What do I think about you? Ah - I think you’re a brooding sceptical Scorpio with a sting in your tail.’ He scowled at this. ‘Or at least I think you have your Ascendant or Moon in that sign in your Star Chart. Makes you awfully good sexually though.’ She chuckled as his scornful expression changed to a scowl. She grinned. ‘And are you?’

His dark eyebrows fretted together, he looked uncomfortable for a moment,
and she knew she’d made a direct hit with her diagnosis.

‘It still doesn’t tell me why the killer is attracted or obsessed
with these women born under that sign.’

She breathed in deeply, nodded and said, ‘If he’s obsessed with the Cancer women you’ve got to discover first how he finds his victims? Does he know them personally or does he go out looking for them especially?

‘I don’t know.’

‘Someone who came in contact with Linda personally might know her sign
, like me or you for instance. Linda was very keen about reading her daily horoscope. You might have known that Jude wore her pendant pretty prominently too. I noticed it myself only the other night when I paid a visit to the Orchid club. So how old was the latest victim? Any idea yet?’ She viewed him quizzically over the rim of her coffee cup. ‘I’ve heard she was very young. Was she?’

‘She seems barely out of her teens. Sixteen
- seventeen. She’s not been identified so far, poor kid.’

‘So how would she have met her killer?’

‘Someone she knew already? A date - someone she’d arranged to meet?’

‘Could it have been a
blind date?’

He grimaced.
‘Through the internet?’

‘
No, not on the web. In a dating column in our paper. You’ve probably seen the Heart to Heart column. It’s published daily. Do you buy the local newspaper, Nick?’

He frowned. ‘Yep, I do - why?’

‘Are you likely to have any papers still at home?’

‘I keep some of ‘em. I have a cat and I use some of them for his litter tray.’

She smothered a giggle as quick as it came. ‘Okay - none at all?’

‘I’ve got a couple of this week’s still. Unused.’ He grinned back at her.

‘Good. Can we take a look at them? I could go to the
Observer
office but I want to keep this quiet for the moment in case I’m wrong.’

He chuckled. ‘Run this in front of me again, Mel Goring. You want to come to my place now to look at some old newspapers.’

She grinned. ‘At least let’s give it a try. Humour me and I bet we’ll get along just fine.’

Twenty-Five

‘A coffee while you’re here? Or a glass of wine?’

‘A coffee - please.’

Mel looked around curiously at his flat. She liked what she saw. It was comfortable, not over furnished. For a man living on his own it was kept in remarkably good order. No soiled shirts or odd socks draped around the living area, beer cans or dirty plates stacked on the table.

‘This is great. It’s a small treasure,’ she said gazing at the large collection of china Toby jugs decorating the beams across the room. ‘You were lucky to find it, weren’t you?’

He chuckled. ‘Let’s just say it found me. It’s ideal for the moment. The owners of the shop below pressed it on me after I helped to get back some stolen valuables for them.’

‘Really? Places to rent are at a premium here,’ she said sitting down on the small cosy settee where Squib was curled up tight in a large furry grey ball. ‘Your cat? He’s a big boy, isn’t he?’

She reached out to stroke him and was rewarded by a rattling purr and a wide friendly yawn as Squib stretched out full length.

He chuckled. ‘Looks like you’ve scored first time with Squib. He’s generally pretty stand
-offish to strangers. Give me a sec or two and I’ll find the papers.’

He realized that he was feeling on edge. He didn’t want to be seen to be taking advantage of Mel being here alone with him. But she seemed quite at ease in his company and obviously didn’t find him a threat. He didn’t know whether he should be pleased by this or not. Perhaps it said little for his attraction skills.

‘More than I thought. Three days,’ he said bringing in the coffee on the tray and putting the papers down on the table. ‘You know what you’re looking for?’

She opened up the middle pages of the day before and skimmed down the dating adverts. She laughed. ‘Gotcha! Found it - the thing is who might be caught by it
next? Take a look at this, Nick.’