Dead Perfect
‘I’m sorry? I’m not sure where you got that information from, but I am not at liberty to discuss any aspects of the ongoing investigation.’ DI Rutherford’s face had reddened, and Maggie knew the reporter would not give up so easily.
‘But you’re not denying it then, are you? And the mouth too. I heard she had an almost doll-like appearance.’
Maggie clenched her fists behind her; she could feel her knuckles graze the wall. She noted the smirk on the journalist’s face.
‘As I said, I’m not at liberty to discuss anything more with you at this time. I’d like to thank you all for attending today. If you have any further questions, you can direct them to our COMMS Officer via the usual channels.’ DI Rutherford straightened her suit jacket and made her way out of the room, with Maggie quickly in tow.
‘What the hell was that?’ Maggie whispered to her boss.
‘Fucked if I know. How did that journalist get those details? I specifically told you all in the briefing that we wouldn’t be giving out those details to the press. Our whole case could be compromised now with all the nutters who are going to call in saying it was them.’
‘Do you think we have a leak in the team, ma’am?’ Maggie had to quicken her pace to keep up with the DI.
‘We’d better not or heads will roll! And what was that crap about looking like a doll?’
Maggie grabbed DI Rutherford’s arm. ‘Wait. Dr Blake said something like that at the crime scene. I don’t think it was recorded anywhere, so the leak could be anyone who was within earshot.’
‘Are you serious? Right, I want you to speak to Nathan and check the records, statements, and any notes available. I’ll be calling everyone together in an hour. If we have a leak, we need to know. I’d also like to find out more about that journalist. We need to shut this down as soon as possible before she prints something that’s going to cause a panic in the community.’ DI Rutherford carried on to her office, and Maggie went to Nathan’s.
***
‘Did you hear what happened?’ Maggie blurted out.
‘Where? When? Sorry, I’m not psychic so I have no clue what you’re talking about. Care to enlighten me further?’
‘Sorry.’ She took a breath. ‘At the press conference. Remember that journalist from the Raven case – the one who clearly had it in for me? She knew about the eyes and mouth being sewn shut in this case and—’
‘What? Did she say where she found out that information?’ Nathan interrupted.
‘Well, if you’d let me finish …’ Maggie smiled. ‘She also knew about Dr Blake referring to the victim as looking like a doll, but she wouldn’t say where the information came from and Rutherford basically ended things there.’
‘The guv must be fuming. But the doll thing – was that said in any of the briefings?’
‘I can’t recall. I know Dr Blake said it at the crime scene, but I can’t for the life of me remember if it was something that was mentioned with everyone at any of the discussions or even casually in the office. That’s what worries me more. Only someone at the scene would have heard that.’ Maggie sat. Her legs felt like jelly.
‘Well, let’s find out the facts first. We should be able to narrow down where the information originated and then how the journalist got hold of it.’
Maggie knew Nathan was right. ‘DI Rutherford wants me to go over the statements to see what information was recorded. That may give us a lead. She’s also asked me to get Bethany to do some digging on that journalist. We’ll have to stop her from sensationalizing this whole thing – imagine what Tracy Holloway’s family are going to think if they read about that in the papers.’
Nathan’s computer pinged. ‘Go and make a start on those tasks; we’re meeting in an hour. Can you ask Bethany to come in here? I’ll work with her on the journalist side of things and see if we can get at least those aspects suppressed. Though I’m sure we’re going to have to give her something to stop her.’ Nathan scratched his head and picked up his phone. That was her cue to leave.
She walked over to Bethany. ‘Nathan needs you in his office.’
‘Erm. OK. Any clue what it’s about?’ Bethany frowned.
‘Just the case. Sorry, I need to do something before the briefing. Don’t look so worried.’ As the words came out of her mouth, she knew she sounded harsher than she’d intended but Bethany was already out of her chair and heading to Nathan’s office before she could explain further.
Maggie opened the statements on her system. She trawled through the details but could find no mention of Dr Blake’s comments from the crime scene. She looked through the notes she’d jotted down from the briefing but then realized that even if the doll-like reference of the victim had been mentioned, she wouldn’t necessarily have noted that herself. Her next port of call would be DI Rutherford’s PA, but with her only working part-time, she may well have gone for the day. She picked up her phone and dialled the extension. The answerphone kicked in. Damn. And then a thought crept into her head and the hair on her arms stood on end.
What if the killer was in contact with the journalist?
Chapter 20
The television blared from the front room as he made the coffee. ‘I hope it’s not too loud for you. It’s just that I enjoy this reporter. She doesn’t pull any punches.’ He wondered if she’d heard him, but just in case she hadn’t he popped his head through the doorway and called through, ‘It is pretty loud, isn’t it? I’ll turn it down a notch. I don’t want to give you a headache.’ She seemed more responsive today.
Her head lolled to the side. ‘Oh no. Hang on a minute. I’ll just pour the coffee and then I’ll help you out. Two secs, my princess.’ He whistled as he poured their drinks and then shuffled back into the front room, placing the cups on the coasters. ‘OK then. Here we go.’ He tilted her head back and repositioned her in the chair. ‘Are you thirsty?’ He pointed to the coffee mug. ‘It’s a little hot at the moment, but when it cools, I can help you if you want.’
No answer.
‘Come on now. How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t answer me?’ He nudged her shoulder and her head fell backwards, hanging over the back of the chair.
‘Oops. Sorry.’ He straightened her again. ‘Why won’t you talk to me? I need you to say something.’ He brushed the hair off her face. ‘You feel hot. I hope you don’t have a fever.’ He went up to the first floor via the stairs and looked in the cupboard under the sink in the spare bathroom. He pulled out the small bag and inside he found the thermometer.
He returned to the living room. ‘Open wide.’
Nothing.
He placed two of his fingers on her lips and used his thumb to prise her mouth open. ‘Good. Now don’t let this fall out.’ He placed the thermometer underneath her tongue and gently closed her mouth. He sat opposite her, and while he waited he picked up his mug and focused on the television.
‘Do you see why I like her? So feisty! I suspect the police aren’t always thrilled with her reporting of the crimes in the community.’ He chuckled to himself. His interest was piqued when the reporter mentioned Tracy Holloway. ‘Oh. This should be good.’ He turned the television up again.
‘In other news, the police still don’t have any leads in the case of Tracy Holloway. Ms. Holloway was found face down in Granger Park by two teenaged boys. When I spoke to the family, they expressed concerns about how little information was being shared with them by the police. My questions to the police have remained unanswered.’
‘I think I need to speak to this reporter. Maybe I can give her some of the answers she’s looking for. What do you think?’ She could be my voice.
No response.
He placed his mug back on the table and shook his head. What am I going to do with her? He stood, walked over, and pulled the thermometer from her mouth. ‘One hundred and three. Shit.’ He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. ‘You definitely have a fever. I’m sure I have some antibiotics around here somewhere. I’ll get you a cool cloth for your forehead too. You need to rest.’ He removed the rope from around her chest. He had stopped tying up her wrists and feet when he realized she wouldn’t be struggling. ‘Let’s get you back to bed.’ He lifted her in his arms and hummed a soothing lullaby, one his mother used to sing to him when he was poorly, as he struggled to carry her upstairs.
He pushed the door to her room open with his foot, walked over to the bed and placed her on top of the covers. ‘I’ll get a light blanket to cover your legs.’ He left her and went into his own room.
‘Now, where did I leave those meds?’ He rummaged in the top drawer of his dresser until he found the bottle he was looking for. He checked the date. Not expired yet. These will do. He went over to his closet and pulled out the throw he had washed the other day. He sniffed it. ‘Perfect’.
He went back to her room and dropped the blanket and tablets on the floor.
What the hell?
Her hand was clenching the bedsheets. She had moved! A smile formed across his face. He picked up the items he had dropped and, placing them down on the nightstand, he opened the small cupboard by her bed where he had stored the ropes and a leg chain. The reality was, she had probably spasmed because of the treatment and her infection. He didn’t care though. Better safe than sorry. He didn’t want to hurt her because he knew she was unwell, so he loosely tied her hands and feet to the bedposts. ‘I’ll be back.’
He returned to the room a few minutes later with a cool, damp washcloth and wiped her face. He folded the cloth and placed it on her forehead. He popped two antibiotics from the bottle, raised her head and held the glass of water from this morning to her mouth as he popped a pill into her mouth and let her head go back to swallow. The gag reflex took hold and he was pleased that she did not have dysphagia, which suggested to him there wasn’t brain damage. Maybe it was just an infection and once it was gone, she would be back. His living doll …
He massaged her throat and when he felt her body shake his heart sank. Shit. She was choking. He sat her up and thumped her back. After three hefty thwacks, something shot out of her mouth. He lay her back down and sat on the edge of the bed as he dissolved the contents of the medicine in her water. It may not work, but he would try it until he could get his hands on something else.
It took almost fifteen minutes to get the liquid inside her. He watched her for a further fifteen minutes to make sure she didn’t convulse again, gently caressing her hair. She stared at the ceiling and he wondered what was going through her mind. Was she thinking of him? Did she want to speak but her body refused to do what her mind was screaming? He hoped so. He needed her to stay alive as he wasn’t ready to lose her just yet.
‘Sleep well, princess. I have something special planned for you soon. Something that will bind us together for all eternity. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ He traced a symbol on her arm with his finger. ‘I’ll leave the light on for you, just for tonight mind.’ He stood and stretched his legs. He wished he could share his plans with her, but that would ruin the surprise.
He needed a nap but he still had one task he wanted to do. He rubbed his eyes and gently closed the door as he left her room. He went back downstairs to his desk. He was feeling excited as he sat down and took out a black envelope, a black sheet of writing paper, and his gold pen, and began to write.
Chapter 21
Maggie looked at her list of priority tasks. After updating Nathan on her plans, she finished off her coffee before she picked up the phone and contacted Markston Probation. Location wise, it seemed the best place to start, given the address of Tracy Holloway and where she was found.
After a few rings, the phone was answered and Maggie asked to be put through to Sarah Hardy.
‘Markston Probation. Sarah speaking. How can I help you?’
‘Hi Sarah. It’s Maggie – I’m actually hoping to pick your brains a bit, if I can.’
‘Oh hey! Great to hear from you. What can I do for you?’
‘We have a case that’s left us all a bit baffled. I can’t go into too much detail, but I wondered if you or any of your colleagues have anyone on your caseload who’s raised a red flag recently.’
‘Can you give me a little more than that?’
Maggie had to be careful with what information she shared, so she tried to give as much as she could without compromising the case. ‘Let me think. Anyone who has a previous history of violence, harassment, stalking, kidnapping even. Targets females. Perhaps they’ve recently stopped reporting. Or even the opposite – previous poor compliance but they’re now attending every appointment.’
‘Wow. That’s quite a bit to digest. Let me have a chat with my colleagues and we can put a list together. I can’t think of anyone off the top of my head, but I do have close to one hundred cases at the moment, so it may take a bit of time. I can email a list over to you as soon as possible.’
‘That would be great. I’m kind of relieved that no one screams out at you at the moment, but if you could go away and discuss it with your colleagues, I’d really appreciate that. And if your manager needs to speak to anyone regarding the sharing of information, they’re more than welcome to ring DI Rutherford.’
‘Great. Speak to you soon.’
Maggie ended the call. She tried to log the information on her computer, but the screen was playing up again. Probably a loose connection. She dialled the HR department and asked if they could send someone from maintenance out to fix it. There was always a free desk in the office, so she used one of the other computers to record the information and then gathered her things together. Her next task would be to visit Tracy Holloway’s home. Bethany was still looking at the social media accounts – Maggie informed her where she could be found if anyone needed her and she went down to the enquiry desk to grab the keys and sign out one of the pool vehicles.
***
At this time of day, the drive to Woodend didn’t take long. The area was decent enough, if not a little run-down, and Maggie surmised that the rent was probably affordable for a young person trying to live away from home. She used the code that had been given to the police by Tracy’s parents to get into the building and walked up the two flights of stairs, as there was a massive puddle in front of the lift and Maggie didn’t want to have to guess what it was.
She stopped on the landing to catch her breath before entering the second-floor hallway. She knew she was out of shape and if she didn’t do something about that, she’d fail the next fitness test and be stuck on desk duties. She made a mental note to start exercising again.
The victim lived in flat 212, and it was easily recognizable as there was a police officer standing just outside the door. Maggie showed her ID and signed the form he shoved in her direction. Inside, Maggie was instantly hit with the smell of vanilla. The flat was tidy and decorated minimally, and there were candles everywhere. She suited up and snapped on the latex gloves so she could begin looking around. There were a few people still dusting for prints.
‘You all OK if I just have a look in the bedroom?’
‘If you’re suited up, knock yourself out,’ one of the forensic officers responded.
The first door led to the bathroom and Maggie’s heart nearly stopped when she opened the door and came face-to-face with a masked man.
He jumped back. ‘Whoa! You gave me a fright.’
Maggie laughed holding her hand over her heart. ‘Snap! Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was in there.’
‘Yeah, just collecting prints. All yours if you need it.’
‘No. I was looking for the bedroom. I’m guessing it’s that other door.’ She pointed.
‘Yeah. I was headed there next. Do you mind if I follow?’
‘That’s fine. I’ll just have a look around and then leave you to it.’
Maggie walked ahead and entered the bedroom. There was a double bed which had been made up. So Tracy was meticulous and tidy. One bedside table with a small lamp and a notebook. A chest of drawers and a small closet.
She opened the closet. Everything was hung neatly and looked to be in order of type: dresses, blouses, jackets, and trousers of various colours. The clothes she was found in did not match her usual style. The floor of the closet had shoe boxes full of trainers and pumps. No boots. A few scarves hung on a hook on the inside of the door. She closed it and went over to the chest of drawers next.
Socks, underwear, T-shirts and pjs were folded neatly. Maggie lifted a few things to see if perhaps Tracy hid any valuables underneath her clothing. Nothing there. Maggie looked under the mattress – nothing. And nothing under the bed either.
Finally, Maggie went to the bedside table. There was a smaller drawer with a cupboard compartment underneath. Inside the cupboard she found make-up, a hair dryer, curlers, and a make-up mirror. Then she opened the drawer and her heart stopped. She pulled out her mobile and with shaking hands scrolled until she found Nathan’s number, and hit connect.
Nathan answered almost immediately.
‘Hey, Maggie. What’s up?’
‘Sir, we have a problem. Have you spoken to Kate yet?’
‘I’m with DI Calleja. We’re just waiting for Kate to finish a call before she joins us. What is it, Maggie?’
‘I’m at Ms Holloway’s flat and have just found a bundle of letters. They’re in black envelopes with gold writing.’
‘OK. You’ve lost me now. Is that significant?’ Maggie was surprised Nathan hadn’t connected the dots. He had obviously not taken Kate’s stalker seriously.
‘Very. Kate received the letters in black envelopes with gold writing from her stalker.’
‘Oh shit! I’ve got to go. Kate’s just arrived. Make sure they’re bagged up and hand them over to the forensic team then head back to the station. I’ll see you there.’
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