Body Heat Page 10

  “The drug screen result is through on victim one.” She paused and Callie could sense a quickening of interest. “It’s positive for GHB, mixed with quite a high level of alcohol.”

  Callie knew that GHB, or Gamma Hydroxybutyrate as it was more properly known, lasted in the blood for two to four hours and in the urine for up to twelve hours. It was known as the date rape drug because when victims were tested for it the next day, it was usually negative, but in this case, the victim had died and metabolism of the drug had been halted in time for the test to still be positive.

  “So, he could meet them for a drink and then slip them the drug that way,” a youngish constable commented.

  Jayne nodded.

  “That would explain why they went with him.”

  “It also explains why they don’t do more to try and escape the car when he pours petrol in,” Miller added. “Between the drugs, the alcohol and parking up against the post so they can’t open their doors, these women don’t stand a chance of getting away.”

  “Let’s just hope they were out of it enough not to know what was happening,” Jeffries added sombrely.

  While Callie acknowledged that it was a horrific way to die, she was strangely comforted to know that at least the second victim might not have known much about it, and she could tell others in the room were thinking the same.

  “Nigel?” Miller called him to the front and Callie felt a spasm of fear, it would be her turn in a minute she knew and she was vaguely grateful that Nigel didn’t go to the front of the room, but stayed where he was to give the report, although, in some ways, that was worse because everyone had turned in their seats and were now looking at her.

  Nigel cleared his throat and launched into his update.

  “As with the first case, the mobile phone was too damaged by the fire for us to get anything useful from the SIM card. I’ve started the process to get the call log and data from the phone company for the second victim’s mobile, but we haven’t got that from the first, yet.”

  “It always takes time, Nigel,” Miller was trying to sound upbeat. “Anything on their computers?”

  Nigel shook his head.

  “Not at first look, but I’ve sent them off to technical, see if anything’s been hidden or erased, guv.”

  “Good. Now, last but not least.” Miller looked at Callie expectantly.

  Everyone turned their attention to Callie and she took a deep breath to steady herself.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your meeting,” Callie could have kicked herself as soon as the words were out of her mouth. It wasn’t like she had just barged in, Nigel had brought her, although he hadn’t explained that a briefing was taking place and everyone was there, but apologising just made her look weak. “Perhaps we could have a word in private?”

  Everyone looked at Miller and were disappointed when, after a moment’s thought, a moment that seemed an eternity to Callie, he nodded. She let her breath out with a sigh, not having realised that she had been holding it until that minute.

  “Right, everyone, let’s get on with this,” Miller said and people were suddenly galvanised into action. “I want all spare hands checking CCTV or back round all the pubs and clubs, this guy must have slipped up and appeared somewhere, someone must have seen him load a drunk or drugged woman into a car. Nigel, chase for phone and laptop info, will you? We need to know where these women met him.”

  As people moved back to their desks to get on with their tasks, he turned and gestured for Callie to follow him to an area a bit away from the action, where there was a small amount of free space. Not as private as she would have liked, and, she noted with dismay, Jeffries followed them. They were only a matter of steps away from the rest of the team, and whilst this was definitely better than having to give a report to them all, she was sure that they were all feigning a lack of interest and were really listening to every word.

  “Um, I wondered if you had checked out dating websites?” she said tentatively, her voice not coming out quite as strong as she would have liked. “As the place where he might be meeting his victims.”

  Miller looked disappointed, but at least that meant he had wanted her to succeed, she thought. Jeffries snorted in derision.

  “What do you reckon he puts in the advert, then? Partner wanted for short term relationship, GSOH and a love of self-immolation required?” Jeffries asked and someone sniggered.

  “Smokers preferred.” Another voice chipped in proving to Callie that they had indeed all been listening.

  “For late night barbecues in the country.”

  Callie was livid, she hadn’t come here to be publicly ridiculed. This was exactly what she had been hoping to avoid by going to see Nigel, perhaps she would have been better off speaking to Jayne Hales, at least she was giving Callie a look of sympathy. Miller raised his hand and everyone fell silent.

  “Only, you see, the second victim, Carol Johnson, was apparently a user of one,” she persevered angrily.

  She could feel the mood change, she wasn’t just interfering, she had information.

  “How do you know that?” Miller asked.

  “One of her friends told a friend of mine, who told me.”

  “Gossip, then,” Jeffries said in a tone that spoke volumes.

  “Gossip that might be true and might help you find the killer.” Callie was trying to stay calm. She knew her information was weak and she would have far rather spoken quietly to Miller on his own, or even better, just told Nigel, but he had brought her into the incident room, like a lamb to the slaughter, and she could feel her cheeks burning with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

  “There are hundreds of those websites, thousands even, it’s a massive job,” Jeffries said.

  “We could start by looking at local ones.” Jayne Hales was trying to be more encouraging but then turned away to answer her phone.

  “We can narrow it down more than that,” Callie said. “It was a local website specialising in affairs, called, um” – she steeled herself – “SusSEXtra, according to this friend of a friend.”

  A smirk appeared on Jeffries’ face and he looked as though he was about to make another suggestive comment when Jayne Hales called out.

  “Guv!” She was waving a scrap of paper on which she had been taking notes as she quietly spoke on the phone and she had everyone’s attention. “Fingerprint on a coke can found in a hedgerow near the visitor centre matches Mark Caxton.”

  “Yes!” Jeffries raised a clenched fist and grabbed his jacket. Miller was already on his way out as Jeffries hurried after him, both passing Callie who was still standing just inside the door, without comment.

  Everyone in the room was busy congratulating each other and making preparations for Mark to be brought back in by their boss. He was going to be questioned again, and maybe this time, they had got enough evidence to press charges.

  Nigel looked at Callie, obviously embarrassed by how she had been treated.

  “I promise you I’ll follow up on your information, Dr Hughes.”

  “And I’ll make sure of it,” Jayne added.

  “Thank you,” Callie said with as much dignity as she could muster, and left.

  * * *

  Callie went straight round to Kate’s office, still flushed but with anger rather than embarrassment by the time she arrived.

  “He just pushed past me, with that odious little man running along behind him, and went out to arrest Mark Caxton again. He is absolutely fixated on the boy being the culprit and just isn’t interested in anyone else. I mean, he was in hospital, for goodness’ sake. How could he have done it?”

  “To be fair,” Kate responded, playing devil’s advocate, “with a solid piece of evidence linking a suspect to a murder scene, Miller has no choice but to pick him up. Imagine if he didn’t and another woman was killed? He’d be pilloried in the press and probably spend the rest of his career directing traffic.”

  Callie sighed. Kate was right.

 
; “Why on earth did you march in and tell him about it, anyway? I thought we agreed you would tell Nerdy Nigel on the quiet.”

  “I did, and he insisted I tell Miller, but didn’t warn me that he was in the middle of a briefing at the time.” Callie put her head in her hands. “Oh, Kate, it was just awful.”

  Kate rubbed her friend’s back sympathetically, just as Callie’s mobile started ringing. Callie fished her phone out of her handbag, checking to see who the caller was before answering.

  “Hi Linda,” she said and then listened. “Yes, okay.” Callie checked her watch. “What’s this about, do you know? … What? A complaint? Who from? … Really? Right. Of course. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

  “A complaint?” Kate queried, concerned for her friend.

  “It’s a long story about a patient of mine who hasn’t been responding to requests to attend or have a blood test. Anyway, I popped round yesterday but she wasn’t there so I left a note with her husband. Apparently, that amounts to harassment and they’ve made a complaint, so Hugh wants to see me. I was only trying to help.”

  “Hugh will see that, Callie, I’m sure.”

  Callie had her head in her hands again and Kate gently patted her back.

  “This is not a good day,” Callie said lifting her head, finally.

  “No, I can see that,” Kate agreed.

  “I seem to be having a problem with men. First Miller and Jeffries, and now Mr Hollingsworth complaining to Hugh, and all because of that stupid, stupid Gerry Brown.”

  Kate stiffened.

  “What’s Gerry Brown got to do with it?”

  Callie picked up at Kate’s harsh tone and looked at her friend.

  “He’s our locum, and gave Jill’s husband a prescription when he should have insisted that Jill came in. Why?”

  Kate bit her lip.

  “You know I was telling you about my stalker?”

  Callie nodded.

  “Well, he was a doctor called Gerry Brown. Do you think there could be two?”

  “Tallish with thick, almost wiry brown hair – bearded?”

  “You just described him to a T.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “I think that officially confirms to me that he is a, a–” Callie struggled.

  “Twat, I think is the word you are searching for,” Kate said, “or possibly tosser.”

  “I take it you don’t want me to send him your best wishes?” Callie replied with a mischievous smile, and Kate laughed.

  “No. But you can knee him in the groin for me if you want.”

  * * *

  Callie quite quickly managed to persuade Hugh Grantham that she had done nothing wrong in visiting her patient unannounced, indeed she had been going above and beyond her duty.

  He advised that she should stick strictly to protocol from then on, which meant that Jill should not be prescribed any further tablets until her condition was reviewed and that when she requested a prescription, Linda should respond to that effect.

  “Worst case scenario is that they’ll change doctors,” Hugh said to her, but Callie worried that it might actually mean that Jill stopped treatment, and would become as chronically ill as she had been when she first saw her. Tired, depressed, overweight, losing her hair, she had been so much better once the treatment had taken effect and she had stabilised; she lost loads of weight and had come into the surgery positively bouncing with energy. Callie couldn’t understand why she had stopped attending or having blood tests.

  “We can’t get too involved, Callie,” Hugh advised. “It’s her life, and we have done everything expected of us.”

  That was all very well, but he couldn’t stop Callie thinking that something was wrong for Jill to behave like this, but a packed clinic soon took all her attention and Jill was forgotten.

  Chapter 12

  “They didn’t even find the empty can in the car park where the car was set on fire.”

  Helen Austen was confiding to Callie the next day over a cup of peppermint tea in her extraordinarily untidy office.

  Helen had been present when Miller and Jeffries interviewed Mark in the presence of his legal representative. Mark had been instructed to exercise his right to silence and only to say ‘no comment’ to every question he was asked. This time, he had managed to do that.

  “Where did they find the drink can?” Callie asked Helen.

  “By the overflow car park, about twenty yards up the lane.”

  “Not far away then.”

  “No,” Helen conceded reluctantly before continuing. “I am sure it could have got there at anytime, but the visitor centre manager convinced them that he clears any rubbish lying around the car parks twice a week, Monday and Friday, so he insisted it had to have been left there some time between Friday afternoon and Sunday morning when the crime scene people found it.”

  “What did Mark say to explain it?” Callie asked. “Apart from no comment, I mean?”

  “I wasn’t privy to his discussions with his lawyer, of course, but when we were sitting in the interview room waiting for the detectives, Mark just kept saying he hadn’t been to Fairlight in years and he didn’t know how his fingerprints were found on any rubbish there.”

  “It doesn’t look good, though, does it? Even if he was in hospital at the time.” Callie believed in Mark’s innocence, but even she could see that.

  “No, no it doesn’t, and I know that. But do you really think this is the sort of thing Mark would get up to?” A telephone seemed to be ringing somewhere but a glance at the telephone base module showed the handset to be missing. Helen searched under some of the paper strewn across her desk and finally found the handset just as it stopped ringing. She put it back down on the desk where it would quickly be covered in papers again.

  “No, of course not.” Callie hesitated. “I’m not sure he has the mental capacity to plan it, apart from anything.”

  “Absolutely!” Helen said. “Of course, the police theory is that he’s working with someone else. It conveniently covers all the gaping holes in their case if there is some kind of mastermind telling Mark what to do.”

  Helen was dismissive but as Callie thought about it, she could see a certain logic to the theory. It could also help explain the second murder taking place when Mark was supposedly in hospital. It really did seem too complex to say that he managed to get out of the hospital without anyone noticing, steal a car, meet a woman and persuade her to go with him, kill her and get back to the hospital, all without being seen. But a partner would explain a lot. A partner who dropped a can at the scene to incriminate Mark.

  “Do they have any idea who this partner might be?”

  “None at all.” Helen looked thoughtful. “One of Mark’s problems is that he doesn’t make friends easily. He’s quite isolated.”

  “He has a girlfriend, though, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Helen agreed dubiously. “But I think it’s fair to say she’s quite isolated as well, because of her” – Helen waved her hands around a bit – “um, well she’s a funny little thing. Terribly shy.”

  “But if he can manage to maintain a relationship with one person, he might just possibly be able to have a partner.”

  “Yes, but I still don’t see it, why start killing women old enough to be his mother?” There was an awkward silence as they both realised that Mark might well have a reason to hate women of a similar age to his mother; after all, she was hardly a good example of motherhood.

  “Yes, well, I still don’t believe he has anything to do with this,” Helen finished and despite the mounting evidence, Callie had to concede that she didn’t believe it either.

  * * *

  He knew he hadn’t planned this one as carefully as the others, but he just couldn’t resist. He normally had to reel them in with promises and sex texts, endless flirting and pandering to their egos, but this one, this whore, needed no encouragement. She was desperate to meet for sex without strings, claiming a higher sex drive tha
n her partner could cope with. She seemed remarkably unworried about who met her ‘needs’, treating sex as her right without any thought for her poor, cuckolded husband.

  It had been so easy to persuade her to get into his car, stolen of course, and to take a drive to a secluded spot for sex. She had even suggested that he could take her to a dogging site, where she might get lucky and have multiple partners. There was no chance he would do that, of course, he didn’t want any voyeurs witnessing what he had planned for her. There was no doubt in his mind that she deserved to die, but the price of not planning properly was that things went wrong.

  Because she had been so happy to comply, he hadn’t used GHB. He had thought it would be nice for her to know what was happening to her, why he was doing it even, but she had roared with anger when he threw the petrol over her and quickly realised that she couldn’t get out of the passenger door. By the time he had hurriedly thrown the lit book of matches into the car, she was already climbing across to his side. Despite her hair and clothes catching fire, she had continued her escape, getting the driver’s door open.

  He had considered getting close and kicking it shut again but she was too fast and already out of the car and falling onto the ground as he rushed across from his place of safety, so he kicked her head instead. It made a satisfactory noise as his foot crunched against her face and her head jerked back. He kicked her so hard, he wondered if he’d broken her neck. It had certainly stopped her escape and he moved away watching with satisfaction as she continued to burn where she lay, her body moving jerkily as the muscles and tendons constricted in the heat.

  Later, when he stopped to examine his shoe, he could see a lump of burnt flesh attached to the leather. Amusing as it was, mistakes like that could be fatal. He knew that only bleach would be able to get rid of the DNA evidence, after he had cleaned the charred skin off the shoes, but bleach would ruin the leather, so he would have to get rid of them somewhere they would never be found. He vowed that next time he would take more care, make sure the chosen whore wasn’t in any condition to try and escape. Make sure nothing went wrong. After all, he didn’t want to get caught, not yet, not ever if possible, but certainly not yet. There were so many more harlots and Jezebels out there. So many left to kill.