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‘I’ll drive you.’
‘No. Stay. Have some decent food for a change.’
‘On my own? I’ll look like I’ve been stood up. I’ll drop you off then go for a pizza.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, genuinely meaning it.
‘Don’t be silly. This is the cheapest meal I’ve had out in ages.’
He flashed her his perfect smile which she couldn’t resist returning. Matilda promised herself she would make it up to him.
It was half past eight. Fortunately at this time of night on a week day there was very little traffic around so Matilda arrived at Heeley on the outskirts of the city centre in good time. There was nowhere for James to park, so he stopped in the middle of the road and put the hazards on. Matilda leaned over and kissed him passionately on the lips.
‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Stop apologising. It’s not your fault. Now, go on, I can see Sian’s eyes burning into us.’ He gave the DS a wave through the windscreen. She waved back.
‘Don’t wait up.’
Matilda kissed him again then, reluctantly, got out of the car. She walked over to Sian and they watched James drive away.
‘That reminds me, I need a new hoover,’ Sian said.
‘What?’ Matilda frowned.
‘One with really good suction on it,’ she smiled.
‘Cheeky sod. I’m sure you and Stuart are still passionate.’
Sian rolled her eyes. ‘It depends how well England are playing at rugby.’
Matilda took in the scene surrounding the block of six apartments and blinked at the dazzling blue flashing lights on the police cars. She ducked under the police tape and looked up at the building. Lights seemed to be on in every room. The residents were obviously interested in the attention they were receiving from police. ‘What’s dragged me away from a four-course meal, then?’
‘Flat number one is registered to Caitlyn Brown. Police were called when her mother came running out of the flat screaming at eight o’clock this evening. According to a neighbour, she was rambling and inconsolable. Caitlyn was found dead in bed with a very nasty head injury.’
‘Where’s the mother now?’
‘She’s been taken to hospital and sedated.’
‘OK. Let’s take a look.’
Sian handed Matilda a paper forensic suit. ‘Not designer, I’m afraid.’
In the foyer of the building, Matilda struggled into the flimsy white suit. She was uncomfortable and the shoe covers wouldn’t fit properly over her Jimmy Choos.
Sian looked at her watch.
‘Don’t you roll your eyes at me,’ Matilda said. ‘I’m not dressed for this.’
The long hallway had three rooms leading off it: a living room, kitchen, and bedroom. As it was only a one-bedroom flat, the bathroom was en suite. Matilda looked into the living room as she passed. It was large and crowded with furniture. Several scene of crime officers snapped photographs and took samples of blood smears on the wall.
In the large bedroom a swarm of white-suited officers dusted for prints, took photographs, and sketched the scene. Leaning over the victim in the bed was pathologist Dr Adele Kean in a forensic suit.
‘Evening,’ Matilda said.
Adele stood up and revealed the victim to Matilda. The duvet had been pulled back and the young woman lay as if asleep in matching bra and pants. Her eyes were closed and there was a small smile on her lips, as if she was having a pleasant dream she didn’t want to wake up from. All Matilda could think of was what a shocking waste of a life it was.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought tonight was date night,’ Adele said.
‘It was but I made the mistake of telling Sian my plans, so she organized a nice murder to ruin it for me, didn’t you?’ Matilda turned to the DS who was smiling.
‘Listen, if I have to sit home every night and watch Emmerdale, so can you.’
‘Just wait until it’s your birthday,’ she said with a hint of a smile. She turned to Adele. ‘What can you tell me?’
Carefully, Adele leaned over the bed and slowly rolled Caitlyn onto her side to show Matilda the back of her head. ‘As you can see we have a single blow to the back of the head.’
‘Nasty.’
‘Absolutely. It’s fractured the skull. There’s blood on the pillow and there’s some in the living room too, apparently. However, I’d say she died from a massive head trauma.’
‘What was she hit with?’
‘I don’t know,’ Adele frowned. ‘Something blunt but big and heavy. There’s nothing in the wound to identify a weapon, but the skull has caved in. I’d say you’re looking for something round.’
‘Like a bowling ball?’ Matilda guessed.
‘Nothing that big, but, possibly.’
‘Is this how she was found?’ Matilda turned to Sian.
‘Yes. The duvet was over her though. It’s like she just went to bed and died.’
‘Any sign of disturbance?’
‘Not in here. Come into the living room,’ Sian said, leading the way.
‘I’ll see you later, Adele.’
‘OK. I’ll try and do the PM tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know. Love your earrings, by the way,’ said Adele.
‘Thank you,’ she smiled and left the room.
‘As you can see from the carpet there are marks where the sofa should be, but it’s been pushed back,’ Sian said, pointing. ‘There’s blood smears on the back of the armchair and the wall too.’
‘So, what? She was hit in here and then the killer put her to bed?’
‘Could be.’
‘I’ve got a clear fingerprint in a blood smear,’ a SOCO said, turning to Matilda.
‘Great. Check it against the victim.’
‘Will do.’
‘Any sign of a break in?’ Matilda asked Sian.
‘No. The flat was locked,’ she said.
‘How did the mother gain entry?’
‘She had a key, I’m guessing. We’ve not been able to interview her yet. Anna’s at the hospital with her. She’s going to give me a call when she finds anything out.’
Matilda looked around the room. On the floor by the door was a plastic box which contained all the exhibits. She bent down and picked up a heavy glass object in an evidence bag.
‘What’s this?’
‘It’s a paper weight,’ Sian said.
‘Where was it found?’ She asked, looking at the blood smear on the glass ball.
‘Here,’ the SOCO pointed to a gap on a shelf above a radiator.
Matilda took the paper weight through to the bedroom. ‘Adele, would this have done the job?’
Adele asked her Anatomical Pathology Technician to turn Caitlyn on her side to reveal the wound once again. The glass ball fitted perfectly into the indentation in the wound.
‘Nice of the killer to leave the murder weapon behind,’ Adele said.
DC Rita Morgan entered the bedroom. ‘Ma’am, I asked Aaron to run Caitlyn Brown through the PNC to see if she’s known to us, and she is.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. She reported a crime a few days ago. She said she was raped last year.’
Chapter Three (#uea50fca9-7cb2-5bc3-80ec-fe4e6eee6748)
Tuesday March 8, 2011
By the time door-to-door enquiries had been conducted, Caitlyn had been taken to the mortuary and forensics had finished, it was almost one o’clock in the morning. Far too late to start the investigation. Matilda sent everyone home and told them to be in the briefing room by eight o’clock.
The Murder Investigation Team had been in operation within South Yorkshire Police for three months now, and, so far, they had a one-hundred-per-cent success rate and three ongoing cases.
DCI Matilda Darke was the first to arrive at just after seven o’clock the next morning. Despite only having three hours sleep thanks to James’s pneumatic-drill snoring, she looked bright and fresh and ready to face the challenges of a new murder case. She helped herself to a strong black coffee and a bar of chocolate from Sian’s snack drawer.
‘Caitlyn Brown, twenty-three, was found bludgeoned to death in her flat last night. What do we know so far?’ Matilda asked her team as they gathered around for the first briefing.
‘Caitlyn’s mother, Diane, went round about eight o’clock. She found her daughter dead in bed and practically screamed the block down,’ Sian began. ‘Several neighbours came out to see what was going on.’
‘Did anyone go into Caitlyn’s flat?’
‘Yes. The flat directly next door belongs to Polly Nicoletti. When she couldn’t get any sense out of Diane, she went in to see what had happened.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘Not that we know of.’
‘Did she touch anything?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Who called 999?’
‘Polly Nicoletti.’
‘OK. Bring her in for a witness statement and take her prints too. What do we know about Caitlyn Brown?’
Rita Morgan took a sip of her coffee then put her hand up. ‘Caitlyn worked as a veterinary nurse at a surgery on Woodseats. Now, last week, she came into the station and gave a statement saying she had been raped in October.’
‘Why did she wait so long?’
‘Apparently, she saw the story in the paper about Julia Adams being raped and she thinks she was attacked by the same man.’
‘Right. Who’s SIO?’
‘DI Ben Hales.’
Matilda’s heart sank. She had a very fractious relationship with DI Hales. He believed he should have been promoted to DCI and put in charge of the Murder Investigation Team. He resented her success and delighted in obstructing her at every turn. She knew they would have to work together at some point, and she wasn’t looking forward to that happening. It would appear that day had arrived.
Matilda set her team to work before leaving the freshly decorated MIT room and heading for the cold, damp, poorly-lit, and cramped CID suite.
The open-plan room was cluttered with desks and filing cabinets. When Matilda entered she was hit by a wall of noise: telephones ringing, fingers drumming hard on computer keyboards and different topics of conversation being conducted all at once. She walked slowly through the mine field towards Ben’s corner office. His role was to oversee all CID’s cases. He spent more time behind his desk than solving crimes.
Matilda rapped on his glass door. She looked through at the dark-haired DI. Head down, he was writing on a note pad. He looked up. His brow creased when he saw her.
Did he just roll his eyes?
He nodded and Matilda took a deep breath, then walked into the room, closing the door behind her.
‘Morning, how are things?’
‘Checking up on me?’ He asked in his icy, difficult tone.
‘No. I was being polite,’ she said, wondering why she even bothered trying to make small talk. ‘A young woman has been murdered. I believe she’s connected to a series of rapes you’re working on.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. Caitlyn Brown. You know her?’
