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‘So, can I make an appointment to view the house again with you later today, yes?’ Jen asked excitedly. When no answer was forthcoming, she turned away from the sink, tea towel in hand and proceeded to dry the utensils, watching Dylan, at the dining table, drain his coffee cup as he checked his mobile phone.
‘I’ve no idea what time I’ll get finished,’ he said eventually, without looking up. He stood, smiled at Jen, put his cup on the draining board next to her, kissed her cheek and reached out to grab his suit jacket he’d hung on the cereal cupboard doorknob.
‘So when then?’ Jen noisily threw the kitchen utensils in the drawer one by one. ‘Tell me, have you looked at the details of the property?’
Dylan looked sheepish. ‘Course.’
Her eyes darted down the hallway to see the brown A4 envelope that contained the information about The Station House still in the same position she’d left it.
‘Really?’ Her eyebrows remained raised for a moment or two. ‘And, what do you think?’
Dylan shrugged his shoulders. ‘If you like it, I like it!’
Jen slammed the kitchen drawer shut with a flick of her hip, and looked into a familiar face that, told her she had lost him, for now, to the murder enquiry.
‘It’s not just a house. This is just a house that I chose before we met. I thought this time we were buying a home, together?’
He turned quickly from her stare and stumbled as he tripped over Max, who yelped, and scuttled under the table. ‘Why on earth do you have to sit there you daft dog?’ he said, in a raised, agitated voice.
Maisy looked up from the bowl of Weetabix. Her face held a look of concern. Max belly-crawled to lay under Maisy’s swinging legs and made a loud disconcerted moan. The little girl leaned over and stroked his soft, solid, Retriever head.
Dylan’s eyes were pained. ‘Look, I’m sorry love, I have to go.’ He sidestepped Jen to reach Maisy and his lips found her head, on which he planted a kiss. His exit was swift and fast but when she looked again the A4 envelope was gone.
Jen sat down next to Maisy and tried to encourage her to finish her breakfast. The room was very quiet, warm and all of a sudden felt calm with Dylan gone. ‘Come on you, or you’ll be late for school,’ she said eventually with more enthusiasm than she felt. ‘And, I’ll be late for work, and then that nasty Avril Summerfield-Preston will have my guts for garters!’ Jen tickled her daughter and she wriggled and chuckled in her arms.
‘She’s like a witch...’ Maisy said pulling her best witch face.
‘She is...’ said Jen with a laugh.
‘Why is daddy grumpy?’ Maisy said as they walked to school.
‘He’s just busy. And tired.’
‘Catching bad people?’
‘Yes, catching bad people.’
‘I don’t like it when he’s grumpy, it makes me sad,’ said Maisy showing her lip.
‘I know. Neither do I.’
Maisy looked up at Jen and squeezed her hand. ‘I could come and look at the house with you,’ she said. ‘That’d be fun wouldn’t it?’
Jen’s grin was broad. ‘That sounds like a plan to me!’
***
Dylan was keen to hear the update from the previous evenings enquiries.
It transpired that living opposite the scene was a nineteen-year-old male, by the name of Stuart Sykes. ‘He fully admitted that the telescope in his bedroom was his – for stargazing, he said. The house being slightly elevated means that his bedroom window looks directly into Patti’s, and if she failed to close her curtains... well,’ said Simon Clegg.
‘And what more can you tell me about Sykes?’ said Dylan.
‘He’s unemployed. He told us that he was out walking alone, on the day of the murder and couldn’t give us any evidence to corroborate where he said he’d been,’ said Simon.
‘And do we believe him?’
‘He was nervous and vague in the presence of his parents,’ said Simon. ‘So, we’ve invited him into the station to speak to us alone.’
The next update was from those officers who had been to see Patti’s friends.
‘Gail Carpenter told us, in the presence of her mum, that Patti had lots of admirers but was sure she didn’t have a boyfriend. Her older brother had taken Patti’s refusal for a date with him, badly – nobody apparently refused a date with Mark Carpenter,’ said Vicky.
‘Their nickname for Patti’s stepdad was Eyeball, according to her friend Debbie – because he never took his eyes off her. And, in the presence of her dad she showed us a picture of a lad at swimming club who Patti liked,’ said Ned.
‘Did you take the statements last night?’ said Dylan.
‘No sir, we thought it best to give them chance overnight, to see if they remembered anything else that might assist us so, we have arranged to get them today.’
‘Have we got anything from the mobile service provider?’ said Dylan.
‘We only logged the enquiry yesterday,’ said Raj.
‘I don’t care. Chase them up, and Forensic. We haven’t been able to eliminate one male that has been brought into the enquiry yet, with confidence. Everyone therefore remains a suspect. I’ll see you all again at debrief.’ Dylan looked at his watch. He appeared restless and agitated. ‘Make it six-thirty, and don’t be late.’
Dylan walked to his office and Vicky followed. Distracted, he didn’t see her stood at the door and she watched him sit behind his desk and ease a document out of an unfamiliar type of brown envelope. Dylan appeared pleasantly surprised by the envelope’s contents and briefly she saw a softening of the lines around his tired eyes. She tapped on the window of his open door and walked in.
‘Elliot Black is coming in to have his DNA taken. Thoughts on this Eyeball and Randy tag people give him?’
He turned his attention to his second in command. ‘Why? What you thinking?’
‘Well, we’ve been told by her mum that Patti was forever dressed in her leotard around the house, so he could hardly ignore her? But, it wasn’t that long ago he was stealing knickers off, of washing lines. And, I’ve not managed to prove either way if she had been wearing knickers on the day of her murder, or if they’d been taken from the scene.’
Dylan looked thoughtful. ‘The photographs Black showed the journalist... If they haven’t been seized, make sure they are.’
Vicky’s eyes narrowed. ‘Are you thinking that he might have tried it on with her and she rejected him? Maybe, even threatening to tell her mother?’
‘It’s a possibility. I wonder; did he see her pass the shop on her way home and follow her? What time is he coming in, he’s got a few questions we need answers to and now.’
She lifted her arm, and pulled at the sleeve of her jumper to reveal the face of her watch. ‘Supposedly, within the next half an hour.’
‘I want you to drop it on his toes about Patti’s nickname for him. Let’s see what his reaction is. We need to put Elliot Black in, or out of the enquiry as quickly as possible.’
Vicky walked towards the door and Dylan stopped her in her tracks. ‘Tell you what, give me a shout when he arrives. I’ll join you.’ She looked over her shoulder to see him picking up the document that he had been reading when she arrived.
‘I’m glad something can make you smile.
Dylan looked bemused. ‘It’s the details for a house Jen went to view.’
‘Any good?’
‘I haven’t been to see... Well, not recently I haven’t been to see...’
Vicky scowled. ‘You’re not making any sense.’
DC Ned Granger appeared in the doorway. ‘Just for your info boss. Stuart Sykes, the neighbour with telescope, he’s not turned up for his appointment. We’ve been to his house and there is no reply.’
‘Keep me updated,’ said Dylan.
‘Jaene tells me Elliot Black set off well over an hour ago too,’ said Vicky.
Ned ran his hand through is thick, curly hair. ‘He should be here by now. We left Burford Road half an hour ago and we’ve also driven around the park where Sykes hangs out to see if we could locate him.’
‘And no joy?’ said Dylan.
‘No,’ he said flopping down on his chair. He swivelled around to face Vicky. ‘Get us a sarnie when you go out will you? I’m ravenous.’
Her eyes flared. ‘And, tell me, what did your last slave die of, a crack round the bloody head, or a punch on the nose?’
Jen was sat in the office two floors above Dylan. The click, click, clicking of the keyboards, ring, ring, ringing of the phones and chat, chat, chatting of the officers walking in and out, made it a normal day. Avril Summerfield-Preston was doing her best impression of Hyacinth Bucket, the standard bearer of middle class snobbery, as she hosted the Administrators’ monthly meeting. Jen’s mobile phone rang as Avril was leading them out of her office. Rita raised her eyebrows and grinned. Jen grimaced.
‘Jennifer!’ Avril called. Her eyes were like steel. ‘We are ready for you now dear, if you could kindly show the ladies and gentlemen where their lunch will be served. Jen fumbled frantically in her bag and stopped the ringtone wail. ‘I will do anything for you,’ Meatloaf sang out in all his glory. ‘It was the estate agent,’ she hissed at Rita as she passed behind her chair.
Dylan was sat in his office going through the enquiries paper trail when Vicky reappeared at his office door. ‘Is he here?’
She nodded. Dylan’s phone rang. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute. It’s the estate agent returning my call.’ She smiled knowingly and closed the door behind her.
Elliot Black didn’t appear to be taken aback by the Detective Inspector’s presence in the interview room. Had he expected that a senior officer, the man in charge of the murder investigation would be there?
‘How are you? How’s Sandra?’ asked Vicky.
‘Not good.’ Elliot coughed into his balled fist. ‘I’m not sleeping. Terrible nightmares... I keep seeing her... our Patti... on the landing.’ He stared down at the table that stood between them.
Vicky stood from her seating position. A sealed package in her hand. ‘I guess that’s understandable Elliot,’ she said, moving to stand beside him. ‘As you know we need to take the DNA sample swab from you today, so we might as well get that over and done with.’
‘It’s really not necessary...’ he said raising his hand. He turned his head and coughed again as he showed her his palm. ‘I’ve got this...’ he coughed again, took a handkerchief out of his pocket and spat. ‘This terribly sore throat.’ Elliot Black looked at the officers as though he had a bad smell under his nose.
‘But it is.’ Dylan leant across the table towards him. ‘You see, for some unknown reason, your DNA was not taken after your caution for theft.’ His eyes were set, cold, dark and focused.
Vicky smiled at Elliot. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’m constantly in the cold zone. I’ve got young nephews and nieces and they’ve always got something or other going on.’
She saw what looked like fear in his eyes.
‘It doesn’t hurt. There’s nothing to worry about,’ she said pulling a pair of plastic gloves out of the paper handkerchief looking box. ‘We just need to formally eliminate you from the enquiry like anyone else. Its standard practice.’ Gloves on her hands she picked up a clear tube, a swab visible within. ‘This, won’t take a minute, open wide,’ she said standing over him. Elliot Black’s hair was all of a sudden wet at the temples with beaded sweat.
However, looking up at the ceiling Elliot Black duly did as he was told and Vicky gently swabbed the inside of his mouth. ‘Thank you! All done,’ she said a moment later as she popped the swab in the tube and secured the cap. She sat back down next to Dylan and busied herself writing on the paperwork she later attached.
Elliot Black shuffled in his seat. ‘I think I should tell you. I wasn't totally truthful the other day...’
Dylan sat in silence. ‘Why’s that Elliot?’
‘I’ve got previous for traffic offences.’
‘Traffic offences?’ Dylan nodded.
When there wasn’t the reaction on the faces of the officers that he expected Elliot Black sat in silence, put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands; concentrating on the floor between his legs.
Vicky’s voice was clear and precise. ‘Okay, we appreciate your honesty. Anything else we should be aware of?’
‘No.’
‘So, we need to clarify one or two things that have come to our attention in the early stages of the enquiry, which you maybe able to assist us with.’
Mr Black sat up straight, leant back in this chair and gave a resigned sort of sigh. ‘I’ll try. How long will this take? I don’t want to leave Sandra too long at the moment. She’s on the verge of a breakdown the doctor said.’ His voice was appealing, tears sprung into his eyes.
‘I fully understand,’ Vicky said, compassion in her tone.
‘Did you know that Patti had a nickname for you.’
‘No! Did she? I guess it’s wasn’t very flattering.’ He closed his eyes and he let his head loll back. He sighed again. Opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling. ‘Go on, what was it?’
‘Eyeball.’
‘Why do you think that was?’
Elliot looked genuinely shocked. ‘I’ve no idea.’
‘Her friends tell us it was because you were always watching her.’
‘I don’t deny it. She was a pretty girl. What man wouldn’t try to protect his daughter... stepdaughter.’
‘We are also led to believe you have an unusual amount of photographs of Patti?’ Dylan said.
‘No more, than any other proud parent I wouldn't think.’ Elliot bit his lip and held back the threatening tears.
‘So you won’t mind us looking at them?’
‘Why should I Mr Dylan? They’re on my laptop which your guys have already seized.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Feel free!’
‘Do you know what your nickname is at work?’
Elliot Black looked skywards and his gaze found the corner of the room. ‘I’m the boss,’ he said with no apparent interest. ‘I’ve no idea what they call me behind my back.’ He turned his attention to Dylan. ‘What the hell do nicknames have to do with the murder of Patti?’
‘Randy?’ Vicky said. ‘Your colleagues at work nicknamed you Randy.’
He managed a brief smile and shook his head slowly. ‘Look this is absolute nonsense. At work its banter, and at home Patti was Patti. I was, am proud of her. She was beautiful. I’d be blind not to notice how lovely she was. She was always in her gym stuff doing flip-flops and rolls in front of us. I built a gym for her so she didn’t have to go out to train any more than necessary. But be assured I am not the person you are looking for. I did not attack and kill Patti. I found her, just like I said I did. That image of her is going to remain with me for the rest of my life. I loved Patti like a daughter, nothing more.’
‘It’s obvious that the attack on Patti was sexually driven so, you can understand why we are asking you these questions when we are being given information about you that’s linked to sexual innuendoes.’
Elliot put his hand to his sweating brow. ‘Oh come on, this is bloody ridiculous. I didn’t kill her. Am I under arrest?’
‘No,’ said Dylan. ‘No, you’re free to go whenever you please.’
Elliot stood to leave and the detectives remained seated.
‘But, it would be very unprofessional of us not to eliminate you from the enquiry. It’s routine like we said that we do these simple tests and ask the questions. It would be negligent of us not to,’ Dylan said.
‘Well, I’m sorry. I’ve had enough of your questions. I find them distasteful to say the least. If I go then you might concentrate on looking for her real killer.’ He went to the door and placed his hand on the doorknob.
Vicky stood and walked towards him. ‘I’ll show you out.’
Vicky led him down the corridor to the exit. She opened the door that led into the police station reception area.
‘I’m sorry for kicking off like that, but it’s not me. Find her killer and then you’ll know I’m telling the truth.’
Dylan was waiting for Vicky in the incident room. ‘Do you believe him?’
‘He says it’s not him. But, we certainly touched a nerve when he heard about the nickname Patti gave him. We haven’t enough evidence to arrest him. But, one thing he did say that we know is not true and that is that he didn’t like leaving Sandra any longer than he had too, because of course we know he must have gone somewhere else before he came here. I don’t know. I just hope they find semen on the swabs that the pathologist took at the post-mortem and then at least we will have DNA for elimination, which of course will make our job easier.’
‘I’m sure we’ll get a Forensic update before long and I’ve arranged to have his collection of photographs viewed as a priority. Until then, don’t sit on the fence Hardacre, what’s your gut feeling?’
‘My gut feeling is that you’d better have made an appointment to go and look at that house or you’re dead meat sir!’
