The Murder Exchange (16 page)

144
'So, how can we help you?' asked Peter Lacker,
sitting down in a chair opposite. 'I hope there's
nothing wrong/

'Nothing at all,' I said, smiling. 'We're just
interested in one of your neighbours, a Miss Jean
Tanner. I understand she lives on this floor.'

That's right. Next door. She's all right, isn't she?'

'I certainly hope so. We need to speak to her in
._i. inflection with a matter she might have some
information on.' Suitably vague, I thought. 'We
called yesterday but she wasn't at home and she
doesn't appear to be at home now. Do you know if
she's gone away anywhere?'

'I don't think so. She was definitely there last
night We heard her.'

i leard her?'

He looked a bit embarrassed. 'Jean's a good
neighbour, don't get me wrong, please, but she
does have male visitors and sometimes she can
have disagreements with them. There were
some loud voices last night.'

'What? Like an argument?'

He nodded.

'How many people were involved?' asked
Berrin.

'Just two of them. Jean and someone else. A man.
I didn't immediately recognize the voice.'

'She's not in trouble, is she?' asked Mrs Lacker,
coming in with a tray containing a china teapot,
four puny-sized china cups and a selection of what
looked like custard creams.

I smiled reassuringly as she sat down in a chair
next to her husband. 'Not at all, but it is important

145
we speak to her. You haven't seen her this morning,
then?' They both shook their heads. 'How violent
was this argument you heard last night?'

'It wasn't violent as such/ said Mr Lacker. 'It was
just quite loud.'

'It didn't last that long either, did it?' added his
wife, passing me a cup. 'Jean tends to keep herself
to herself. She's not a difficult neighbour at all. Is
she, Peter?'

'No, not at all. She's lived here for a long time.
Three or four years, I think.'

I asked them how often she received male
visitors but they were vague on this. Now and
again, said Mr Lacker, adding that he and his wife
were sexually liberal and so of course didn't disapprove
of such arrangements, which as far as I was
concerned was one detail too many. They were also
vague on how often Jean had had violent disagreements
with said visitors. Mr Lacker backtracked
somewhat on his earlier statement and said not very
often at all. Mrs Lacker said she couldn't remember
the last time before the previous night.

I couldn't help feeling vaguely concerned about
what I was hearing. I took a sip from my tea and
put the cup down. 'I'd like to try her flat again, if I
may/ I said, standing up. Benin, who was munching
on one of the custard creams, followed suit with
only limited enthusiasm. It looked like he'd been
enjoying his sitdown. 'Can you show me which one
it is, Mr Lacker?'

'Of course/ he answered, and led us back out
into the hallway. He pointed to a door at the far
end. That's it.'

146
I stepped past him with Benin following and
knocked hard on the door. Nothing. I waited a few
moments, then tried again. If she was in there, she
would definitely be able to hear me. I put my ear
against the door and listened to the silence. I tried
the handle but it was locked. Then I had an idea. A
highly irregular one, but on a day like this I wasn't
going to be fussy. 'Have you got a key to Miss
Tanner's flat, Mr Lacker?'

'I have/ he said, "but I'm not sure I should be--'

'I have reason to believe that something might
have happened to her,' I told him, 'and I need to see
if this is the case or not. To do that, I need access
to her flat. You can come in with us if you want to
satisfy yourself that we're not doing anything in
there that we shouldn't be.'

'Oh dear,' he said. 'I'd better go and get it.'

He turned and went back inside and Benin
looked at me quizzically. 'Don't worry/ I
whispered. 1 know what I'm doing.' Which of
course were famous last words if ever I'd heard
them.

A few seconds later, Mr Lacker emerged with the
key in his hand and a worried-looking Mrs Lacker
in tow. The do hope everything's all right/ she said to
me. 'She always seemed such a nice young lady.'

'I'm sure it's nothing/ I said, taking hold of the
key, T>ut I think it's best to stay on the safe side.'
With everyone crowded behind me, I turned the
key in the lock and slowly pushed open the door.

The layout was different to the Lackers' place
and the door opened directly into a spacious
lounge with an open-plan, newish-looking kitchen

147
to the right. A wide-screen plasma TV hung from -'1B
the wall in front of two expensive-looking leather m sofas, and the whole effect was very minimalist but "*J
also very tasteful. It also looked very unlived in. £
There were no dirty cups or dishes and the large *
glass ashtray on the coffee table in the centre of the ¥
room was clean and empty. And no evidence at all
of a row.

'Well, she's not short of a few bob/ said Benin,
looking round admiringly at the furnishings, par- ''
ticularly the TV. ^

'She never said what she did for a living/ said
Mrs Lacker, who had come in behind us. Her & husband, meanwhile, hung back in the doorway. £
'It's very nice, isn't it Peter?'

Peter nodded. 'I expect that kitchen cost a pretty
penny/ he said. 'Those are granite worktops in
there. They cost a fortune.'

Berrin looked across at me, presumably for '*
guidance as to what to do next, now that we were f in the place. The problem was, I wasn't sure. I'd
hoped there might be some clues to her whereabouts
lying about - not that I was quite sure what i
- but there was nothing. It looked like the apart- f
ment had been cleaned from top to bottom - a
slightly worrying sign in itself.

To our left, a short hallway ran down to the rest
of the apartment. 'Let's take a look down here/ I |
said. Berrin looked at me like he wanted to say *
something but was unable to do so because of the
presence of the Lackers. I knew what it would be as , well. Something along the lines of What the hell i
are we doing here and what would a defence I

148
lawyer have to say about it?' A good point, but I'd
worry about that one later.

'I've never been in here before/ said Mrs Lacker,
wandering into the kitchen area and looking up at
the metallic pots and pans hanging there. 'It's very
nice/

'Don't touch anything, please/ I told her. 'Either
of you/

We started off down the hallway. Mr Lacker
meanwhile remained standing in the door, looking
around with just a hint of suspicion, as if he too was
trying to work out what Jean Tanner did for a living
and how she'd managed to accumulate such pricey
belongings. It looked like he was jumping to correct
»inclusions, and was perhaps realizing that he
wasn't as sexually liberal as he'd previously
thought.

There was a bathroom on our left with the door
slightly ajar. I pushed it open with the key while
Benin stepped past. I noticed that two toothbrushes
were out on the sink and the lid was off the
toothpaste - not that any of that was much use. The
shower, however, had been used quite recently,
certainly that morning. The curtain was damp and
there were still drops of water in the bath tub.

I stepped back out of the bathroom and saw
Benin, who'd put on gloves, opening the door to
one of the bedrooms. At the same time he removed
another of the Lackers' custard creams from his
pocket and began munching it surreptitiously.

I followed him into the bedroom, conscious that
Mrs Lacker was coming up behind me, doubtless
for more of a nose about. I was just turning round

149
to tell her to stay back when, out of the corner of my
eye, I saw Benin stop in front of an imposing
dressing-room cupboard at the end of the double
bed, and pull a face. He started to say something
but his mouth was full of custard cream and it came
out like gibberish. And then, the next second, he
was opening the door.

There was an immediate crash as the naked corpse
came tumbling stiffly out, arms at its sides, like
something out of The Mummy Returns. It smacked
straight into Benin, who let out a high-pitched
howl, spitting crumbs everywhere, and fell back on
the bed with it on top of him. I yelled too, and
jumped back as he instinctively shoved it away
from him, unfortunately in my direction. It
bounced loudly against the corner of the cupboard,
then came crashing down by my feet, face
upwards, and right in the doorway. Mrs Lacker saw
it immediately, let out the biggest scream of the lot,
then put her hand on her face and fainted
dramatically, hitting her head on the bathroom
door as she fell backwards.

'What's going on?' yelled Mr Lacker, running
over to his wife.

'Stay back!' I shouted. 'Don't touch anything!
This is a murder scene!'

Then I looked across at Benin, whose hair was
now standing on end. His face was as white as a
ghost's and he was staring off into space. 'Oh my
God,' he kept saying, over and over again.

I looked down at the blank dead eyes gazing up
at me, then at the familiar tattoos on the upper and
lower arms. A Chinese dragon on the left, a military

150
emblem on the right. 'Shit/ I said as I stared down
at the corpse of Craig McBride and wondered why
on earth he should be lying dead in the apartment of a woman he was not even meant to know.

I called Capper from the Lackers' apartment, where
Mr Lacker was mopping Mrs Lacker's brow with a
damp cloth, while Berrin sat bolt upright in his
original chair, sipping the tea Mrs Lacker had
poured him five minutes and one cuddle from a
corpse ago. He didn't look too good, which was
hardly surprising.

Capper answered on about the tenth ring and I
told him what had happened. 'What the hell was
..'.Bride doing in her flat?' he demanded, as if it
was somehow my fault.

'I don't know.'

'And there's no sign of her anywhere?'

'Nothing that I can see.'

'Have you touched anything in there?'

'No, we've secured the scene, but you're the first
person I've called.'

'Any indication how he died?'

'Well, there was no blood but I didn't really look
too closely. Put it this way, he was all right this time
yesterday so, whatever it is, I wouldn't think it's
natural causes.'

'All right, wait where you are and make sure no
one contaminates the scene. What's the address?'
I gave it to him, said my goodbyes, and put down
the phone. I looked over at the Lackers. Mrs Lacker
appeared to be coming back to earth. 'It was
horrible,' she said as her husband continued to dab

151
her brow. 'Something like that in a respectable
neighbourhood like this.'

'I know this is a difficult question, but did you *£
happen to recognize the deceased? Is he someone a*K you've seen here before?' J|

Mrs Lacker gasped melodramatically as if I'd just W
asked for her bust measurements. 'I don't know, I £ didn't see. All I remember was him falling into the
doorway and then ... And then, that's it.' She --
finished the sentence with another gasp and her H
head fell back on the seat. Jf_

Mr Lacker,' I said. ~t

He shook his head. 'I didn't see either. I was too *
busy looking after Margaret.'

That wasn't what I was going to ask. I know it's .„
not going to be easy but I'd appreciate it if you ~ could come in with me, view the deceased, and let ^
me know whether you've ever seen him here *
before. It could prove very helpful.' If

What do you think's happened to Jean?' asked ?
Mrs Lacker worriedly.

'I don't know,' I said, thinking that I wouldn't
mind an answer to that question as well. 'Mr
Lacker?' He nodded and stood up. 'Dave, you stay
here and look after Mrs Lacker. OK?'

Benin nodded, beginning to look slightly healthier
now. 'Sure.'

I led Mr Lacker back into Jean's apartment, again
reminding him not to touch anything, and walked
back through the darkened hallway to where the
body lay. Mr Lacker paused a few feet behind me,
and put his hand against the wall to steady himself.
'It's so stifling in here, isn't it?' he said, sounding

152
breathless. 'I don't know how you can do this sort
of thing every day, I really don't. I've got nothing
but admiration for you/

'It's not an everyday occurrence, thank goodness/
I told him, thinking that it was a rare day
anyone said they were full of admiration for me. 'If
it was, I don't think I'd be able to handle it.' And I
wasn't sure if I would have been. The longer you're
in the job, the more you become hardened to the
horrors around you, but the sight of Craig
McBride's stiff, lifeless body, sucked dry of personality,
of everything, depressed me in a way I find
difficult to describe. Particularly as the previous
ciciv I'd been holding a conversation with him. It
might not have been a very pleasant one, but that
was hardly the point. He'd been alive, now he was
gone. Permanently.

I stepped out of the way so Mr Lacker could see
Craig's face. He looked quickly, then looked away,
still standing a few feet back. Take your time,' I
told him. There's no hurry.'

He stayed where he was for a couple of seconds,
then steeled himself, took a couple of steps forward,
and looked again. 'Yes, I've seen him before,'
he said, turning away. 'On two or three occasions.'

Thank you for that/ I said, leading him back
towards the front door.

At that moment, there was a commotion from
outside, the front door opened, and a giant of a man
about ten years my senior, dressed in an ill-fitting
black suit, stepped inside. 'What the hell's going
on?' he barked. This is a crime scene. Who are
you?'

153
'I'm DS John Gallan/ I said, stopping in front of m him. 'And this is Peter Lacker, the neighbour.' J*