Phil took a manila file from his briefcase and laid it on the table. He flicked it open. ‘During the investigation we had three main names in the frame. We called them the Three Little Piggies.’ He looked sheepish. ‘Not my idea, I hasten to add.’
He took a photograph from the file and stuck it onto the whiteboard. It was a head-and-shoulders shot of a man in his twenties, with small eyes and a snub nose, his cheeks pockmarked with old acne scars. It had been years since Lulu had seen the photograph, and yes, he did look a bit piggish. ‘This is Jack Butler,’ said Phil. ‘He was our first real suspect. He was a taxi driver and he picked up two of the victims in his car. Not on the days that they died – that would have been too easy. But he drove the first victim about a month before he died and he drove the third victim six days before he was killed. The big red flag, though, was when his DNA was found on the third victim. Specifically under a fingernail. We had him in for questioning and he had a solicitor right from the start. The solicitor pointed out that Butler’s DNA could have been transferred from his vehicle, and his vehicle had a dozen or so people a day in it, more at weekends. We argued that he couldn’t have got skin cells under his nails by sitting in a taxi, but Butler stuck to his story. In fact, he didn’t say a word, he let his solicitor do his talking for him.’
‘Which is a red flag in itself,’ said DC Townsend.
‘Well, it is and it isn’t,’ said DI Friar. ‘People do have the right to silence. And some people really don’t trust the police and prefer not to say anything. Silence can never be considered a sign of guilt. We all know the words of the caution: You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.’ She looked at Phil. ‘And it never went to court, I assume?’
‘Mr Butler died not long after our first interview,’ said Phil. ‘Killed in his taxi during the course of a robbery. He was lured to a pick-up on an industrial estate and stabbed. His wallet and watch were taken. He had a camera in his cab but it didn’t show the killer’s face. The fourth murder was not long after Mr Butler’s death, which effectively ruled him out as a suspect.’
‘But the DNA is still a worry, presumably?’ asked DI Friar.
‘It’s never been explained,’ said Phil. ‘But DNA is a funny thing, as we all know. Yes, you can say with a very high degree of certainty that two DNA samples came from the same source. But sometimes there can be a perfectly reasonable explanation of how a DNA source got onto a person. If Butler’s DNA had been on the rope around the victim’s neck, then we would have been on firmer ground.’
‘But under the victim’s fingernail? That has to be conclusive, right?’ said DC Townsend.
‘Well, you’d think so,’ said Phil. ‘But suppose I’m sitting in a Wetherspoons enjoying a pint and a steak. And suppose I’m sitting on a fabric chair. I run my hands over it, I’m shedding skin cells and hair, my DNA is everywhere. The longer I sit there, the more DNA I leave behind. And suppose after I’ve gone, you sit down in the same place and order a pint and a burger. Now you’re sitting in a pile of my DNA. And if for any reason you scratched the fabric chair, well as sure as eggs are eggs my DNA would be under your nails.’ He held up his hands. ‘Now, I’m not suggesting that Mr Butler and the victim ate at the same Wetherspoons, but DNA is not the definitive proof that it’s often portrayed as.’
Phil stuck a second photograph onto the whiteboard. It was also a head-and-shoulders shot of a man in his twenties, overweight and with flushed cheeks. ‘Gordon Wallace,’ said Phil. ‘It was ANPR that led us to him. He’s a freelance courier, working for various courier companies when they’re short-handed. His registration number was spotted near two of the disposal sites on the days that the bodies were dumped. He was pulled in for questioning both times and, like Mr Butler, he spoke only through his solicitor. His explanation was that he was out on deliveries both days and so was criss-crossing the city all day. He was a firm favourite for several months, and for a while we had him under twenty-four-seven surveillance.’
‘Did you check his vehicle?’
‘We did, yes. And it was spotless. Too clean, according to the SOCO team that examined it. The interior had been cleaned with bleach. Who does that? Okay, I get that deep cleaning became a thing during Covid, but this was way before that. Mr Wallace’s solicitor said that he had a germ phobia and liked to keep his van clean.’ Phil shrugged. ‘Other than that, he kept his mouth shut.’
‘And where is he now?’ asked DI Friar.
‘Mr Wallace was a drug user and while the investigation was ongoing he got behind the wheel while high and killed a mother and her two kids on the M25,’ said Phil. ‘He fled the scene but left his van, and the whole thing was captured on CCTV, so it was open and shut. He went down for nine years after pleading guilty to three counts of causing death by dangerous driving. While he was inside, there was another murder in the same style. The fourth murder. So he was no longer a suspect.’
‘Nine?’ said DI Friar. ‘So is he still in prison?’
‘I did check, and no, he was released last year. He was remorseful and joined Narcotics Anonymous while he was inside. But he’s no longer a person of interest in the serial cases because of the final murder. He had the perfect alibi.’
He stuck a third photograph onto the whiteboard. ‘And last, but not least, Mr Edward Parker. It was CCTV footage that put him on our radar. Two of the victims – Mr Hurst and Mr Dunne – were out drinking in Soho the nights before their bodies were found.’ Parker was also in his twenties, chubby with slicked-back hair and black-framed spectacles.
‘At the same bar?’ asked DI Friar.
‘That’s right. The two victims both visited the same bars on multiple occasions. There was quite a lot of bar-hopping involved in the Soho gay scene at the time, so it didn’t seem unusual. But while we were checking footage from various bars for Mr Hurst and Mr Dunne, we realized that Mr Parker would often appear in the same bar, usually within an hour or so of each of them arriving.’
‘But Parker didn’t leave with the victims?’ asked DC Townsend.
‘No, and there was no interaction between him and either Mr Hurst or Mr Dunne. He was just there around the same time. We had him in for questioning but – you’ve guessed it – he let his solicitor talk for him. It was a coincidence, the solicitor said. There are a lot of bars in Soho and a lot of bar-hopping goes on.’
‘Is Mr Parker gay?’ asked DI Friar.
‘He refused to comment on his sexuality. In fact he refused to make any comment at all.’
‘Was there any other reason to focus on him, other than the bar-hopping?’ asked DI Friar.
‘Ah yes, sorry, I should have mentioned that we had phone intel on him, too,’ said Phil. ‘The second victim was dumped on Wimbledon Common and Mr Parker’s phone pinged off a cell phone tower at about the same time as the body was dumped. Admittedly several hundred other phones pinged off the same tower, but he was the only one who also visited the Soho bar where they were last seen.’ He held up a hand. ‘But yes, circumstantial. As the solicitor kept saying.’
‘But you still believe he’s the killer?’
‘Well, unfortunately, at the time of the second killing, he was speeding on the M1. Caught on camera. Once we realized he had an alibi for the second murder, we stopped trying to connect him to the rest. So no, eventually we reached the conclusion that he couldn’t be the Choker.’
‘And where is he now?’
‘Not long after the fourth killing, he moved to Spain.’
‘Is he there now?’ asked DI Friar.
‘I’ve put in a request with our team on the Costa del Crime,’ said Phil. ‘The thing is, the killings stopped five years ago. By then, Mr Parker had left the UK, Mr Wallace was in prison and Mr Butler was dead.’
‘Do you think they knew each other?’ asked DI Friar. ‘The Three Little Piggies?’
‘We tried to connect them, but we never found a link between them.’
‘I’m sure you’ve thought of this, but doesn’t the fact that the killings stopped when Parker was abroad and Wallace was behind bars suggest that one or both were involved?’ said DI Friar.
‘Well, as I said, we ruled out Mr Parker when we saw the CCTV of him speeding. He couldn’t have committed the second murder. And the final murder occurred when Mr Wallace was in prison. So that ruled him out.’
‘They could have been working together,’ said DI Friar. ‘Wallace could have committed the first murder, they could all have done the second and third together, and then Parker could have done the final murder on his own.’
‘We did look at that possibility,’ said Lulu. ‘But, as Phil said, we could never find a connection between them. We checked their phone records and they never called each other. Wallace lived north of the river in Barking, Butler lived out west in Wandsworth and Parker lived in south London. They never worked at the same jobs, didn’t support the same football team, had no similar hobbies or interests.’
‘Universities? Schools?’
‘None of them went to university, and they attended different schools.’
‘Criminal records?’
‘Minor shoplifting from Wallace, schoolboy stuff, and then some drug use. Nothing on Parker apart from speeding and parking offences.’
Superintendent Knight got to his feet. ‘I guess the question now is, where do we go from here? It looks as if Dickie McNeil was right, we do have a serial killer. And one who has been inactive for five years.’
‘Either that or a copycat,’ said Lulu.
‘But they couldn’t have copied the knot from our cases, because that information was never made public,’ said Phil. He frowned and looked at the whiteboard. ‘Unless the knot is a complete coincidence.’
‘I think that’s unlikely, but yes, it is a consideration.’ The superintendent sighed. ‘What we need, obviously, is access to your HOLMES data.’
HOLMES was the Home Office Large Major Enquiry System, actually HOLMES 2, the second version of a computerized case management system originally set up around the United Kingdom in 1985. (Lulu had always thought that the use of Large Major Enquiry was obviously tautological and served no other function than to call to mind the great detective, Sherlock Holmes.) All evidence in a case – including documents, witness statements and CCTV footage – would be entered into the HOLMES database. Detectives could then search the database using sophisticated algorithms, which could often uncover patterns and similarities that the human eye might easily miss. All the data collected as part of the Choker investigation was on the team’s HOLMES system in London. DI Friar and her team would be working on their own HOLMES set-up in Manchester. The problem, Lulu knew, was that the two networks were not connected.
‘I’m assuming that it’s possible to connect our two systems, but does anyone here know for sure?’ The superintendent looked around and was faced with blank looks and shaking heads. ‘I’ll talk to our IT people and see what can be done,’ he said. ‘Obviously, if we can have access to the Met’s HOLMES system, it will make our lives a lot easier. In the meantime, we need to locate both Mr Parker and Mr Wallace and see where they were at the times of our murders. And in view of what DI Jackson has said about the gay connection, we need to take another look at the personal lives of our two victims. We need to tread carefully there, obviously.’ He looked over at DI Friar. ‘Any thoughts?’
‘I’d like to keep a Q&A running here with DI Jackson and Mrs Lewis for a while,’ she said. ‘I think we have a lot of questions, and in the absence of the HOLMES data I think a Q&A will be helpful.’
‘I agree,’ said the superintendent. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I have back-to-back meetings ahead of me.’ He smiled and nodded at Lulu. ‘Thank you so much for bringing this to our attention, Mrs Lewis,’ he said. ‘And thank you, DI Jackson, for your time and insight. Hopefully together we can move this forward.’ He headed for the doors.
Phil looked around the room. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Fire away.’