CRIME ON THE FENS a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (18 page)

Nikki looked carefully at her. It was unlike Cat to stick her neck out on a hunch, so her gut feeling had to be pretty strong. ‘Have you got enough evidence for us to convince a magistrate to sign a warrant?’

‘I believe there is a third computer in that flat, ma’am. We know that one of the ones we’ve seen has been hacked, and we assumed from an outside cyber-thief. Now I think it’s a double bluff. I reckoned they’ve set this up themselves.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t know quite know how to put that over to the magistrate, but IT agrees with me. The web design bit is kosher, but we suspect it’s a cover for something darker than pretty bunches of flowers and cake tins.’

‘Then I’ll do all I can to get it organised for you. And when you go, take Dave and couple of uniforms, unless you think it’s more serious than that?’

‘No, that should be fine, ma’am.’ She turned back to her computer, then paused and looked up, ‘Oh, Dave asked me to tell you he’s down in the control room, ma’am, trying to trace Lisa Jane Leonard’s last movements on CCTV footage.’

‘Right. Any news on the mask makers?’

‘I’ve got a crew checking out an old unit on a small trading estate on the outskirts of town, ma’am. I found a supplier who had delivered goods there quite a bit recently, but he reckons they’ve done a bunk, owing him a small fortune.’ Cat grimaced. ‘Which coincides nicely with my disappearing lead.’

‘Well, keep at it, and I’ll go sort out this warrant.’

Nikki went down to the front desk, got a statement typed out and signed it, then authorised a WPC to go disturb one of the local magistrate’s breakfast.

Her mobile rang just as the WPC was heading out of the station.

‘It’s Archie. Can we meet, Nikki?’

‘Hell, I’m up to my armpits! Where are you?’

‘I’ll drive down to the riverside car park, five minutes is all I need.’

‘Give me ten and I’ll be there.’ Nikki closed her phone and leaving a message on the desk to say that she would be out for half an hour, hurried from the building.

* * *

‘My boys, along with some of her friends, have traced the first fifteen minutes of Lisa Jane’s movements since she left her home on the night she died. Then we lose her. If I give you specific times and locations, would your CCTV cameras be able to pick her up from there?’

‘We can certainly try, Archie, although Greenborough’s equipment is hardly state of the art. Dave is actually working on that now, I’m sure he’ll be pleased to have some points of reference to help him.’

She scribbled down everything he told her, then shut her notebook. ‘Marcus Lee is dead, Archie. This Fluke character is favourite for his murder, although we have no proof.’ She paused then added, ‘yet.’

‘Ah, the mysterious Fluke again. I wanted to talk to you about him, Nikki.’ Archie leaned back against the bonnet of his old Mercedes, and stared down the river. ‘I may be wrong, but since my family has been paying particular interest in this vermin, we have come across several very contradictory descriptions, and as my boys have been quite, eh, how shall I say? well, forceful in their methods, I do not believe any of our informants are lying.’

‘We’ve had exactly the same.’ Nikki narrowed her eyes. ‘So what does that say to you?’

‘That there is more than one Fluke.’ He raised his hands, palms up. ‘What else can it mean?’

‘Unless he’s a wizard at disguise, I totally agree. Although,’ it was her turn to stare thoughtfully down river, ‘I have no bloody idea what these bastards are playing at.’

For a while neither spoke, then Nikki said, ‘One of my officer’s said there was a bad feeling on the estate last night.’

‘Mm, and I expect we haven’t helped much either.’ He gave Nikki a slightly apologetic look. ‘We have offered to help you, and we appreciate your help in return, but it doesn’t mean that the family isn’t at boiling point. Some of the younger ones, Lisa Jane’s peers, are wanting blood.’

‘Hardly surprising, Archie, but for God’s sake rein them in! I don’t have to tell you what more violence erupting on the Carborough would mean.’ Nikki paced up and down angrily. ‘What with this bloody Fluke, masked gangs, the stabbing, the attacks and the death of Marcus Lee, added to your own tragedy and the missing student! We are at our fucking wits’ end!’

‘I’m sorry, Nikki, and I’ll do what I can with the young guns, I promise. We’ll continue to track Fluke, if you’d help us with that CCTV footage?’

‘Yeah, I’ll do that, never fear.’ She went to move away, then said, ‘And Frankie Doyle? Any news of her?’

Archie Leonard shook his head. ‘So far we haven’t located her, but she has been seen in the last few days, and I’ve heard her name has been tenuously linked to Fluke.’

‘What does she look like now, Archie?’ asked Nikki, thinking of the old photo on the CID room wall.

‘Sly as ever. Short cropped, boyish-style fair hair and stick thin, is all I can say.’ He looked at her with a chilly expression. ‘But, believe me, Nikki, the minute she shows her head above the parapet, you’ll be the first to know.’

* * *

Mickey’s midnight confessions certainly did make interesting reading, but as far as Nikki could see, the boy had done nothing serious enough to warrant an attempt on his life. She read it again. Mickey had stolen a mask from a consignment, worn it to impress his cousin Liam, then nicked six more from the next delivery and sold them to Liam. Enough to get him chucked off the team, and maybe a good thumping, but to strip him and almost beat him to death? No way.

Nikki placed the handwritten document on her desk and stared at it. The boy had given them the exactly locations of the mask drops and a concise list of the places where they were to be distributed. Plus he had sneakily followed Marcus, listened into private phone calls and even managed to track Fluke to his rented property, which was more than the police and Leonard family combined had managed. So, what more did the boy know? A street-wise kid like that may well have heard of Frankie Doyle, and if could get an address for one slime-ball, maybe he could get an address for another?

‘Ma’am?’ The WPC that she had sent to obtain the warrant, popped her head around the door. ‘Got it for you. The magistrate wanted to know the ins and outs of the proverbial duck’s whatnot, but he has signed it.’

‘Good, leave it on the desk, Constable.’ Nikki went back to Joseph’s notes, then looked up as the woman walked back to the door. ‘Oh, and on your way out, would you ask DC Cullen to come to my office.’ She paused, then said, ‘And thank you, good work.’

The constable glanced back, with a slight rise to her eyebrow, then smiled. ‘No problem, ma’am.’

Cat almost ran into her office. ‘You’ve got it, ma’am?’

‘All yours.’ Nikki held the document out to her. ‘And as much as I’d like to come with you, I’ve got more than enough on already this morning.’

‘Don’t worry, guv, I’ll report in as soon as we’re through.’

‘You’re pretty sure you’ll find something, aren’t you?’

Cat nodded. ‘Oh yes, the more I think about that squeaky clean, “we have no secrets” attitude, and that clinically clean and clutter free home, the more I think they’re hiding something.’

‘People
are
allowed to be fastidious in their habits, Cat. And you do know that we can’t arrest them for overkill on the magnolia paint, don’t you?’

‘Mm, pity. But I’m dead certain there’s dirt of a different kind in Rydell Street.’ She grinned mischievously. ‘And I can’t wait to dig it up!’

‘Just be careful.’ Nikki threw at her as she made to leave. ‘We seem to know very little about anything or anybody.’

‘I will, ma’am.’ Cat’s smile was replaced by a more serious expression. ‘These masks are beginning to freak even me out. A group of young thugs, all wearing the damned things, jumped out in front of my car when I was going home last night. I nearly crashed the bloody thing!’

‘The day we get those friggin’ things off the streets, I’ll stand a round for the entire station.’

‘Could we have that in writing, guv?’

‘Just bugger off, and be careful.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Nikki spent over an hour in the superintendent’s office bringing him up to speed on the occurrences of the night before, but all the time they spoke, her mind kept returning to Kerry Anderson and Mickey Smith. Finding Kerry was paramount, but keeping the boy from further harm was also vital. She didn’t know how or why, but her gut was telling her there was a link between them. She had nothing concrete, but she was certain that Mickey Smith was the one person who could not only help them solve the riddle of the masks, but lead her to Frankie Doyle.

The superintendent had wanted to go over everything in detail, and Nikki finally used the excuse of expecting an urgent phone call to get herself free. She then hurried down the corridor to her own office, closed the door and rang Joseph.

‘He’s safe,’ said her sergeant, with considerable relief. ‘Transfer went off like a charm, ma’am. Have you managed to read my report?’

‘Who needs intelligence when you’ve got the Carborough Kid?’

‘Oh, he can talk for England! My ears ache! But it was worth taking the time to sort the wheat from the chaff, wasn’t it?’

‘Certainly was. I’ll be calling in on him myself later, when he’s had chance to settle in.’

‘Why not wait until I’ve grabbed a few hours shut-eye, and I’ll come back with you. That boy is an acquired taste.’

Nikki’s hackles rose. ‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning only that you asked me what I thought about a Victim Support Officer, and I’d definitely say send a male. I’ve seen him with some of the nurses, and he does not respond well to women.’

Nikki festered quietly for a moment. She had been hoping to follow the Frankie Doyle route privately, but the last thing she wanted to do was upset their main source of information.

‘Right. I’ll get onto sorting that, and when you’re rested we’ll go speak to your young oracle.’ She paused then added, ‘Together.’

‘Great.’ Joseph sounded either unaware of her irritation, or he was magnanimously ignoring it. ‘I’ll get back to my digs for bit then. See you this afternoon, ma’am.’

‘Joseph?’ Nikki softened. ‘You did really well with the boy. Take as long as you need to recharge, okay?’

‘Thanks, ma’am, but a few hours will do. Once I’m awake I’ll want to get back to work.’ She heard a smile spread through his voice. ‘You haven’t seen my digs. The wallpaper alone could bring on epilepsy.’

Before Nikki could reply, her office phone rang. ‘Gotta go. And
you
, get some rest.’ She flipped her mobile closed and picked up the desk phone. ‘DI Galena.’

‘This is Rory Wilkinson, your totally exhausted and run-ragged locum pathologist.’

‘Professor Wilkinson! Well, we’ve never met, but I have to say that your reputation precedes you.’

‘I’d say the same about you, but I suspect I may be brought to task, and possibly flogged publicly, but hey-ho! It’s a pleasure to talk to you, ma’am.’

Nikki smiled. This man made a refreshing change from their own, stick in the mud forensic pathologist. ‘What can I do for you, Professor?’

‘Several things. I’ll start with the attack on the unknown young male in the recreation ground. We’ve identified two separate blood samples, and although I’m awaiting confirmation from the lab, one is almost certainly from the dead teenager that you so kindly sent me by over-night delivery. Let’s see . . .’ there was a rustle of paperwork, ‘. . . that would be, Marcus Lee. Which would seem to confirm that he was attacked in the same place as the injured child, then moved to the house in Carson Villas where he subsequently died.’

‘That fits in with what we believe, Professor. Do you think you’ll be able to isolate some DNA from the Carson Villa crime scene?’

‘Oh, by the bucket load, I should think! The residents there were perfect candidates for a visit from Kim and Aggie! I didn’t need to even see the place to tell you it was a filthy hovel, and if the samples are anything to go on, their personal hygiene was far from meticulous.’

‘It wasn’t good. I spent some time sitting on the carpet with that unfortunate boy.’

‘Oh, you poor woman! But I can recommend an awfully good dry-cleaner.’

Nikki laughed out loud, and marvelled at the unusual sound. ‘Thanks, but I think I’ll survive. What else have you got for me?’

‘Ah, now, this next point is not so jolly.’ His voice changed. ‘That lovely young woman, Lisa Jane Leonard? Sadly, whoever strangled her, and I’m sure you saw in my preliminary report that from the height and sheer strength of her assailant it was most certainly a male, left no traces of DNA, but,’ Nikki felt him frowning. ‘. . . there was saliva on the side of her face.’

‘Someone kissed her?’ asked Nikki with surprise.

‘Nothing so pleasant. Someone spat on her. And having fast-tracked the DNA results, I can tell you, it was a woman.’

Nikki’s brain threw up an instant picture of Frankie Doyle’s evil eyes.

‘So . . .’ continued Rory Wilkinson, ‘. . . if you just happen to come up with an accessory to murder, and you suspect she has a heart as cold and hard as a gravedigger’s shovel, then I’d be more than happy to prove you correct, if I can only get her onto my dissecting table, that is.’

‘If it’s the woman I think it is, I couldn’t think of a more fitting place for her,’ muttered Nikki through gritted teeth.

‘Spoken with sincere venom, Inspector. I
like
that,’ said the pathologist appreciatively. ‘Now finally I have to say, and please don’t think I’m complaining, but just because I’m filling in while your own eminent professor is boring the pants off anyone who’s still awake in the Royal Courts of Justice, don’t feel that you
have
to pack every moment of my fun-filled day with new forensic challenges. Strangely I actually find the odd hour or two of sleep quite acceptable, and I’ve seen very few of those since I arrived.’

Nikki had heard about this pathologist many times, seen a few photographs of him, and even read some of his work on police-related cases. He was a tall, gangly man with a drooping fringe, a beak of a nose and thin wire-rimmed glasses. His weird wit was legendary, and he was happy to tell the world that he was as camp as a row of tents, but over the years he had proven himself to be one of the finest Home Office pathologists in the country. Nikki had just not realised that in the strangest of ways, his black humour when dealing with such a gruesome job, was almost a breath of fresh air. ‘Believe me, there is nothing I’d rather do than give you a peaceful life, Professor, but sadly, my lovely Greenborough market town has turned into something more akin to a twenty-first century location for
The
Night of the Living Dead!
’

‘I have to agree, and because of that, dear lady, I must let you get on, and I shall return to my homely little chamber of horrors, of which by the way, the door is always open if you care to visit.’

‘I’ll remember that, and thank you.’ Nikki hung up the phone and her recent amusement faded.

Frankie Doyle had contacted Lisa Jane a few days before she was killed, and a woman had spat on the girl’s dead or dying body. Nikki’s eyes narrowed to little more than slits. It had to be Doyle. But why the hell couldn’t they find her! She had half the police force and most of the local villains out looking for her, and zilch! Nikki cursed. She didn’t want to pin too much hope on the kid, but Mickey Smith was looking like her last hope. Fluke was linked to Doyle, and Mickey knew Fluke, ergo, Mickey may well know Doyle too.

She glanced at her watch. Almost mid-day, and Joseph wouldn’t be in for a while yet. It was very tempting to just ignore his advice and go see the kid on her own. But did she dare risk it? She flopped down in her chair and stared at her sergeant’s report. The answer was probably not. Apart from shooting herself in the foot if her plan backfired, it was hardly fair on Joseph if she cocked up all the hard work he’d done gaining the boy’s trust. Oh, but finding Frankie Doyle was a very strong incentive. No, Nikki closed the debate she was having with herself. Like it or not, she’d wait, and use the time to catch up on the latest reports from Kerry’s search.

* * *

An hour later Cat Cullen came striding through the door from the CID room with Dave Harris puffing along behind her.

‘From your expression, I gather your ‘Policeman’s nose’ was correct?’

‘Was it ever, guv,’ said Dave easing himself into a chair. ‘She’s got good instincts, our Cat.’

‘So, from the beginning, please.’

‘The bad news is that the Terry’s are not directly connected to the case,’ Cat scratched her cheek, ‘which is something of a bummer after all the work we’ve done tracing the mask design back to them.’

‘So why are you two looking so bloody pleased with yourselves,’ asked Nikki impatiently.

‘Because there
was
another computer in the house, in a very interesting attic room,’ answered Cat.

‘Blimey, guv! I’ve never come across the like in all my life!’ said Dave, his eyes wide in almost childlike incredulity.

‘Sadly I have,’ added Cat. ‘When I worked Vice. The thing is, ma’am, ‘LycoRapture’
is
the brainchild of Mr and Mrs Squeaky-Clean, only the dirty bastards are far from that, and that particular perverted game is just one of many. The pretty web design stuff is legit, but they keep it up purely as a front.’

‘So they
are
the originators of the rat death masks?’ Nikki felt mildly confused.

‘No. Some sleaze-bag downloaded the game, saw the hideous creature, nicked the character’s design for the masks, and named it Griffyx.’

‘So, it’s another dead end?’

‘Not exactly,’ Cat leant back against the wall. ‘James and his wife are both top IT boffins. I checked her out after she said she worked at the university, and she did, she taught high level computer studies. He’s a graphic designer, moved on to web design, and the other thing they have in common, is weird sex. The more perverted the better.’

Nikki’s mouth dropped. ‘You
are
talking about the same couple that we met the other day?’

‘Oh yes, guv. Mr and Mrs Prim-and-Proper have produced some of the worse pornographic computer games I’ve ever seen in my life.’

‘And they charge extortionate money to download them, ma’am,’ added Dave. ‘One of them costs nearly five hundred quid!’

‘And as you can imagine, guv, it is not one to play with your mum or your dad around!’ Cat screwed up her face in distaste. ‘We’ve got them both downstairs in custody, guv, and frankly I think we are only scratching the surface with these games. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to hand the whole thing over to a specialist unit to deal with.’

‘Considering what we’re trying to handle at present, I whole-heartedly agree.’ Nikki frowned. ‘But you said something about it not being a dead end?’

‘Ah yes, well, before the masks materialised on the streets, you had to pay to get hold of LycoRapture
,
and the James’ may be a pair of pervs but they are painstakingly precise on their book-keeping.’

‘They have copies of all their transactions for the last three years,’ said Dave.

‘How does that help us?’

Dave leaned forward. ‘Because a few of their customers were particularly interested to know if they had any other games that had the Griffyx in them, and the James’ made notes to that effect. When they produced a follow-up game, they contacted the interested parties and told them.’

‘And they kept the contact details?’ Nikki was beginning to understand.

‘Yup,’ smiled Cat. ‘But when they saw kids suddenly wearing Griffyx masks, dear Terry and Bella nearly shit a brick! It didn’t take too long to realise that the masks were going to be big trouble, and they may be implicated.’

‘Which could scupper their very lucrative sideline,’ Dave interjected. ‘So they ran a blog, with a link to a free download of the game, then hacked into their own business computer to make it look like
they
were the victims of a cyber theft.’

‘And we’d have swallowed that, if it hadn’t been for you, Cat. Well done.’ Nikki gave her a rare smile. ‘So, have you got the list of names?’

‘I’ve sent their hard drive to IT to retrieve the data. Terry James offered to get it for us, but I didn’t let him within touching distance. I suspected he’d installed some ingenious destruct programme.’

‘Smart thinking.’ Nikki sat back in her chair and looked enquiringly at Dave. ‘So tell me about this attic room of theirs?’

Dave’s eyes widened again. ‘Well, part of it was like some high-tech recording or photographic studio, more equipment than it would take to launch the space shuttle, but the rest was more like a home cinema.’ He swallowed noisily. ‘Big, big screen, and a row of seats, but they weren’t like normal armchairs, they . . .’ His face reddened and he looked helplessly at Cat.

‘They were electronic, guv, and the coverings were made of thick rubber. They enabled you to relax and play along with the game. They reclined and had certain accoutrements to assist with one’s pleasure. Need I say more?’

Nikki shuddered. ‘You’ve said too much already, thank you. But it’s my fault, I did ask the question, didn’t I?’