Syn (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 2) - Malcolm Hollingdrake (world of reading TXT) 📗

‘Trevor Thomas, our drone pilot from the Jennings’s case. Something had been nagging at me since hearing that noise whilst standing at the Sharpe crime scene. I know you heard it but then Mason didn’t, and I began to doubt my own hearing. What with this damage!’ She pointed to the cauliflower ear. ‘To me Mason was too much in a bloody flap to hear anything. The farmer had heard it before we arrived. He thought it was a drone too. “A winged goddess flying over the battlefield … the Nike caps.”’ Skeeter spread her arms and moved further into the room as if gliding and brought a depth to her voice as she replied.

‘Very dramatic but no Oscar on this occasion. Why risk being caught? It’s pushing your luck if you were seen at the murder site of two people. Coincidence would fly straight out of the window and no pun was intended.’

‘There are plenty of cases where the killer keeps returning to the scene of their crimes, a bit like the butcher bird – hangs its prey on thorns within hedgerows to return later to gorge itself. As you say, using that analogy, then maybe he’s going back as a winged god over his battlefield.’

Skeeter moved further into the office, folded her arms and stared at April. One part of her thought the likelihood somewhat remote, whereas another seemed strongly convinced he had a role to play.

April tapped the keys on her computer and instantaneously the printer to the side of her desk spewed out a sheet of paper. ‘You might want to look at that seeing you’ve mentioned your goddess, Nike.’

Skeeter leaned over and collected the page. In bold, black letters the following words were printed:

Destroy to Create

She read it a couple of times before turning it round. ‘Qu’est-ce que c’est?’

‘It’s something Michael trawled up. A number of years ago the Nike company ran a campaign. It concerned special jackets they made, or had made, in the past, he thinks, and that was the slogan. If you check the web, you’ll see some of the videos. Destruction for the sake of it really but if you feel there’s a relevance with the swoosh and the logo then that should have a place within your thought processes.’

April stood and stretched whilst tagging her hands into the small of her back. ‘So, Thomas?’

‘From what I see, he has lived alone since the death of his mother. Checking the details, he no longer works but we knew that so I’ve requested information from his last employer. The neighbour mentioned mental health issues brought on by his mother’s sudden death. Heart attack, allegedly. Depression, the neighbour thought, and considering the radar system she has at her property, she knows a good deal. As we are aware, he was into drones in a big way. But from the room I was in it’s obvious he’s fascinated by all things aeronautical. Plastic planes were suspended from the ceiling of what might well have once been the lounge. I’m not talking of one or two either. All beautifully made, dusty but accurate.’

‘Is he our killer?’ April asked as she returned to her seat.

‘Good looking chap who’s just gone off the tracks. To think of it, history is littered with people like him, and yet only a minute percentage are proven criminals let alone killers. They’re just sad.’ Skeeter chuckled to herself. ‘I really did freak out a little when I saw the craft knife on his desk. A box of new blades too. It was only when I saw what he was doing did I relax; it was the right equipment for the job. They were the straight blades too! Had they been the curved type I’d have been out of there like a shot.’

‘I can see it’s caused you some degree of upset.’

Skeeter was about to leave. ‘Not upset, no. Confusion, great confusion. You’ve felt it yourself I’m sure when some things seem like one thing but then they’re not what you originally thought. Can I keep this?’ She waved the recently printed sheet.

‘No problem. There’s one on the boards in the Incident Room alongside the cap images and the advertising quotation. Before you go, there’s something else. We’ve identified twenty or so photographs taken from the cloud, linked to the three missing phones as well as those from Debbie Sutch and Bill Rodgers. You can see that each photograph depicts the collective of friends – those within the group apart from the one taking the photograph.’ She looked up as Skeeter now perched on the edge of her desk. ‘Checking those people caught in the background we see the same face three times. On each occasion he’s staring directly at the group.’

‘Photo bombing?’

‘Too far away. Facial recognition has confirmed it’s one and the same person but as yet we don’t have an identity. They’re going to enhance it magically so we can get it out to the public.’

‘Carlos and Nicola received those spurious contacts from Carla’s phone. Did Rodgers?’

‘If he did, he hasn’t reported it. Maybe he deleted her from his contacts straight after he was interviewed, and therefore it wouldn’t show under an image or her name, it would only show as a call.’

‘It would show a number,’ Skeeter fired back.

‘Did he know her number? We rely now on just seeing the name. I ring you. What’s my mobile number?’

‘I’d have to look.’

‘I rest my case. Still wouldn’t trust him as far as. What about Smith?’

‘We know he had her number.’

April flicked through a file and telephoned Smith.

‘Smith!’ His answer was direct.

‘Mr Smith, DI Decent. A number of your old friends are receiving spurious calls from a cloned phone. They’re shown to be coming from Carla Sharpe’s mobile. Have you experienced this?’

‘Twice. Put it down to nuisance as one of your colleagues advised. Deleted all contacts relating to her. Social media too.’

‘And who was that colleague?’

‘I think his name was Michael, called me the other evening. Surprised at the