The Voyeur Page 4

  “Yes I’m aware of the time, and the fact that it’s Friday night.” She sighed, pulled the phone away from her ear, and poked her tongue out at the receiver. Yet more plans to cancel. Delilah wasn’t going to be pleased. The fact that she was like a sister meant she didn’t pull punches with how she felt about Olivia’s career choice. Another no show just gave her more ammunition for their next meeting.

  She chewed the end of the pen she’d been rolling between her fingers. “Okay…I’ll be there. Just give me half an hour. Oh, who am I reporting to?” The pen slipped from her hand, and she dragged her fingers though her hair. “No, I don’t need to write it down. Let’s just say he’s an acquaintance. Yes I’ll be there. Bye.”

  Olivia tidied the papers into the file and left it centred on her desk, a reminder that she’d attempted to make a start to clear the backlog. She rose in a slow jerky movement, leant over her desk and leant forward on aching splayed fingers, and groaned. A patchy blush crept up her neck. She yanked at collar of her buttoned-up shirt as she struggled to take a breath. The neutral beat of her heart had taken on a life of its own and pounded in her head as if trying to escape her body.

  Remember the breathing techniques. Olivia listened intently to the voice in her head. Breathe in for six, breathe out for six. It had taken her years of therapy and meditation to get to a place in her life where she was in control. Just a mention of his name had been enough to send her into a state of disarray. How on earth was she going to cope with being in the same room as that man? Olivia straightened, grabbed her bag, set her face with what she hoped was an unreadable expression, and paced towards the exit, only stopping to flick off the light switch.

  10

  “It’s great to hear your voice, Morgan. How’s retirement treating you?” Albie Edwards propped the receiver between his ear and his chin while he listened though he was mostly concentrating on straightening and bending an array of coloured paper clips.

  “I don’t believe you,” he snorted. “You can’t tell me that when you’re woken up in the morning by seagulls squawking and waves hitting the rocks outside your window that you don’t wish you were sitting at your desk staring out at the one-way system and the boarded-up buildings opposite.”

  He laughed at his uncle’s reply. He’d been retired for two months now. After years of looking out for Albie and his mother, he’d decided to up sticks and head to the south west coast. He’d taken them out for a slap-up meal to celebrate his retirement, but then gave a long drawn out speech about always wanting to live near the coast and how life was so much safer than in inner cities. Marianne had sobbed and begged her brother to reconsider his decision. “What about us?” she’d asked. After all else failed, she had reverted to guilt.

  Albie could see them both now. Morgan leaned across the table, held her hand, and brought it to his lips, and whispered softly, “Come with me, Marianne. I’ll keep you safe. You know you can rely on me.”

  Albie listened to his uncle describe an average day for him now. A walk along the beach to buy a paper. Sitting out in the sunshine with a cup of tea and his paper. And the joy of spontaneity—a luxury he’d never had in the police force.

  “Look, it’s been great speaking. I promise to bring mum to visit soon. Gotta go, someone’s at the door.”

  Albie gathered the damaged paper clips into a heap, scooped them into his other hand, and emptied them into the bin under his desk. Another knock and he’d opened a file in front of him and picked up his pen.

  He cleared his throat. “Come in.”

  As the doorknob turned and the door was gradually eased open, Albie stilled. His full attention was on the door and the woman he knew would walk though. He remained in a state of hypnosis, forgetting to breathe until she entered the room.

  “Olivia Devine. It’s been quite a while since we last met.” He stood and gestured at a small cushioned chair opposite.

  Olivia removed a bag from her shoulder, nodded, and took a seat.

  “Would you like a coffee?”

  “Look, as you are aware this isn’t a social visit. I’ve other places to be, and I’m sure you’re a busy man, DS Edwards. Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”

  Albie raised his palms. “I take it that’s a no then.”

  She watched as his mouth curved into a half smile. Her expression remained deadpan as she waited for him to continue.

  “Before we begin, we need to at least clear the air.” He saw her shoulders tense but continued regardless. “Five years is a long time, Liv. I know I was mainly at fault, and for that I am truly sorry.”

  Olivia picked up her bag and rose to her feet. She slammed her fist down on the walnut wood desk.

  “Typical! Just typical! Yes five years is a long time in reality, but when you’re thrown to the wolves and left to fend for yourself by a bastard police officer, it’s an eternity.” She turned to leave but instead pivoted back to face him. Wide golden eyes, filled with hostility and accusation pinned him with a stare.

  “And the real question isn’t how have you been. If you were that desperate for forgiveness, surely the question would be: Where have you been?”

  “I see you’re still as professional as ever.”

  “Piss off, Eddie.”

  Albie ignored the blush that travelled up her neck to her cheeks. He knew it was a slip of the tongue, but when she’d been part of his life, she’d been only one of a few people who had called him Eddie, a nickname normally used with affection.

  “Look,” he said reaching the door and leaning his back against it before she could leave. “That was below the belt. What I meant to say was Emily Dyer was found dead yesterday.”

  Olivia took a deep breath until she felt her chest rise then exhaled and wandered back to the chair.

  “Are you sure…You know, that it’s her?”

  Albie just nodded as he followed her and perched on the edge of the desk.

  “We’re trying to find her next of kin before we report the murder.”

  “Murder?” Olivia covered her face with her hands. “Poor Mitchell. Does he know?”

  “It’s difficult at the moment. That’s partly why you’ve been contacted. You see, Mitchell was found on the Fennick Estate a few hours later. His hands and feet were bound. He’d been bundled into a sports bag and left in a lift.”

  He watched the colour drain from her face. “And now you want me to tell him his mother’s dead?”

  He held his hand in the air, and she quietened and waited.

  “I wish it was that simple. The lady who found him was very distressed. He was covered in blood. But it wasn’t until the officer took a closer look that she realised that his tongue had been removed.”

  Olivia clasped her throat and closed her mouth. Albie frowned and tipped his head to the side.

  “I know. It’s quite a brutal attack, isn’t it?”

  Her only response was to nod.

  “I hope that you now understand the importance of your involvement and are willing to discuss a plan of action for Mitchell.” He walked to the window and lifted the blind. Outside, the streets were livening up with the usual party animals who had probably been sleeping most of the day and wouldn’t see their beds again until the early hours of the morning.

  By the time he’d dropped the blind and faced Olivia, she was sitting straight-backed with her legs crossed and eager to continue. She had a notebook in hand and pen poised. “So what use can I be to the investigation?”

  Albie cleared his throat and gave his next words some thought before he spoke.

  “It’s kind of you to offer your services, and I know you want to help.” His eyes followed her hand as she tapped the pen on the arm of the chair. “And you can, but not with the investigation.”

  “But I thought…”

  Albie stood and paced behind his chair. “I know what you thought, Liv, but we’ve got this. It’s our job to find the criminals. What I need from you is a safe place to house Mitchell when he’s discharged
from hospital.”

  She lowered her head and slipped the notebook and pen back into her unzipped bag.

  “I know just the people. I’ll need to make contact and see if they’re open to the idea.”

  “Good. Whatever you tell them is on a need to know basis. We’d rather invite the press to the party than have them gatecrashing.”

  “What about now? Do you want me to visit him?” She twiddled with a ring on her middle finger. “Someone will need to tell him. Do you need me to?”

  “Thanks for the offer, Liv.” He smiled. She hadn’t changed. She’d always do anything for anyone. Volunteer for the jobs no-one else wanted. That was why she had been so easy to manipulate when he’d nearly destroyed her career.

  “Go to the hospital if you must, but I don’t want any mention of what’s happened to Emily. It’s too soon. Remember he’s vulnerable.”

  She fidgeted in her chair. “Surely he has a right to know?”

  “Of course. Just not yet.” He walked past her and put his hand on the doorknob. “It’s really not up for discussion, Miss Devine. Now like you said, we’re both busy people.” He opened the door wide. “Thanks for your time and support.”

  Olivia walked down the steps at the front of the police station, looked over her shoulder, and counted the windows until she found the room she’d left. She couldn’t tell if he was looking from behind the blind, but she stuck up two fingers in the general direction and felt her body relax as she strolled along the pavement towards home.

  11

  “Ready?” Tanya asked as she slung her bag over her shoulder. Albie checked his phone one last time, nodded, and followed her into a brightly lit room with an overwhelming glint of spotless metal and an emptiness that seeped into his bones and unsettled his soul.

  “Welcome.” Leo greeted them with a smile. “As you can see, I’m open for business as usual.” He bypassed Albie and slipped a folded piece of paper into Tanya’s jacket pocket. “You might like to take a look later.” He winked at her before turning to shake Albie’s hand.

  “Let’s take a butchers at the body then, shall we?”

  Albie grinned at Leo’s failed cockney accent and followed Leo to the trolley while Tanya rifled through her shoulder bag for her notebook and pen. Finally, she took up position on Albie’s right and a few steps away from the corpse.

  Leo glanced at her bowed head but refrained from making a comment.

  “The twenty-five-year-old victim was underweight, dehydrated, and shows signs of excessive drug use.” He gestured to needle marks in different areas of her body.

  “Are there needle marks in her neck?”

  “Yes, it seems she was past keeping the evidence of drug use hidden.” Leo waited until Tanya had finished writing. He caught her eye and smiled as a rose sheen glowed on her cheeks.

  “She was restrained during her confinement, up until her final hours. There are deep ligature marks on her wrists, although strangely none on her ankles.”

  “So as far as the killer is concerned, the place of confinement was secure?” Albie followed Leo around the table and stared at the shredded skin on the soles of her feet.

  “Possibly.” Leo nodded. “But she certainly wasn’t kept in comfort.”

  “The amount and type of non-fatal injuries suggests the victim sustained a number of beatings. Some appear to be older injuries. However, the majority were caused more recently over a period of six to eight days.”

  “When you say repeatedly, do you think attacks were continuous while she was held captive?” Tanya asked, looking up from her notes.

  “It is quite likely,” he replied. “The violence used appears to increase with each attack. In fact, the perpetrator may not have intended to kill the victim. It’s as if the violence built until it reached a crescendo.”

  “What about these carvings across her chest?” Albie leant over and inspected the crude triangular symbols.

  “Unclear. The first could have a symbolic meaning, but to me it’s the number 4. The other two resemble either T or J. They’re just not clear enough to be certain. Don’t rule out a trademark. The killer carved her up for a reason.”

  Albie brought his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat. “Have you established the cause of death?”

  Leo turned from Albie to the cadaver, strode to the top of the body, and gestured for them to follow.

  “On first inspection I presumed the cause of death was strangulation, with the bra used as a tourniquet around her neck. However, under further examination, it is clear to see this injury to her skull was the fatal blow. Whether this injury was caused by a fall or an attack from an object is still up for debate.”

  “I don’t understand.” Tanya’s voice rose as she edged closer to the corpse. “Are you saying that this was an accident?” Her eyes held his in an unstated challenge, and her knuckles whitened around her pen.

  “No, I didn’t say that at all.” Leo cleared his throat and focused on Albie.

  “Well say what you mean.” Tanya said, as she frowned in Leo’s direction. “This woman is a victim, and we need your professional opinion to help us catch a killer.”

  Albie smiled at the animosity in Tanya’s voice and knew better than dismiss her reaction. Instead he tried to mend the damage Leo had caused with a few simple words.“I think what Leo’s saying substantiates his previous comments related to a frenzied attack.”

  Leo was quick to nod in agreement. Stuttering his apologies in an attempt to appease Tanya, he added:

  “This murder was brutal for sure, but it was premature. The murderer’s need to sustain his enjoyment comes more through the violence inflicted prior to the murder. You could call it a type of foreplay. It would not be a surprise if the murder itself wasn’t distressing for the perpetrator. After all it’s the foreplay he enjoys.”

  He grinned at Tanya. “But, hey, what do I know about the psyche? Like you, I just deal with the fallout.”

  Reaching for her bag, Tanya busied herself placing the notebook and pen away, and with a modest smile, she made her excuses and walked towards the exit.

  “Any clues to why the bra was used?” Albie watched Leo order and straighten the instruments on a metal tray.

  “I’d hazard a guess that it was part of his torture game. There’s more than one welt. In fact there are at least four. I think the killer enjoyed taking her to the brink. But there was no sign of sexual assault.”

  Albie shook his head slowly from side to side. “Doesn’t mean there wasn’t a sexual motive though.”

  “We’ll know more when we receive the lab results.”

  Albie shook his hand and thanked him for his time, but as he made for the door, he hesitated a moment and looked back at Leo. “Oh and by the way, stop harassing my colleague.”

  Leo raised his hand. “I’m just reminding the lovely Ms Watts that I’m an option.”

  “No chance.” He laughed as he walked into the sunshine and reached for his phone.

  12

  “Are you sure we’ve not knocked here already?” Frank scanned the identical row of front doors, each one adorned with a peep hole. “Those things give me the creeps. Stupid I know. But I can’t see behind the door, yet I feel like I’m constantly being watched.”

  PC Harry Garrett hummed the Twilight Zone theme tune, widened his eyes, and rounded his arms, fingers wriggling.

  “Yeah, yeah. Alright I knew you’d be sympathetic to my fears.” He laughed and mirrored Harry’s stance. “Ooooh, Ooooh!” he retaliated with a smile.

  Frank scanned the front door and, seeing no knocker or bell, raised his fist and banged.

  “If they answer and say they’ve seen nothing, then I think we’ll call it a day.”

  Easily bored, Harry tapped his fingers against his leg and sighed. After all knocking on doors had to be one of the most tedious parts of the job, right up there with hours of surveillance. He never aired his views to Frank, but however sorry he felt for the kid found in the bag, the boy was
probably better off without his mother. Harry turned towards the stairwell, making a conscious decision to avoid the lift.

  “Hey,” a gravelly voice bellowed after them. “Have you been knocking? Only the telly’s on and I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

  Frank turned and flashed his warrant card. “Hello, sir, we’re making some enquiries about an incident that happened last night. Do you remember seeing or hearing anything unusual?”

  The man’s stare ricocheted between the officers. “I don’t know nothing about no incident,” he said, inching the door forward.

  “What about this young boy? Did you see him playing on the landing?”

  “I’ve told you already, I don’t know nothing and didn’t see anybody.”

  Backing behind the door, he shrunk further away as Frank inched the photograph closer to his face.

  “What about this woman? Do you recognise her?” Harry joined in, wedging his foot in the gap between the door and the frame. The man shook his head.

  “Look again, sir. Take your time.” A glint of recognition glanced across his eyes, and Harry pushed further. “Perhaps you’ve seen her around, you know, at the shops or on the estate?”

  He stood, lost in thought, then wiped the back of his hand across his forehead then opened the door wider.

  “Think carefully. She’s got an eight-year-old son,” Frank persisted.

  He glanced at the photo one more time and, barely acknowledging the officers, began to close the door on Harry’s retreating foot.

  “Don’t know either of them.”

  Harry slapped Frank on the back as he strolled towards the stairwell.

  “Well that was a sodding waste of time. Let’s get back, see if any of the others had any luck.”

  Retreating to her bedroom, Chloe leaned against the door, closed her eyes, and concentrated on slowing her pounding heart. Bending forwards, she gripped her knees and lowered her head. She could hear the pounding slow as blood rushed to her head.