The Cedar Face: DI Jewell book 3 (DI Elizabeth Jewell) (4 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Elizabeth sat in the Saab and watched as two vans pulled away from the warehouse car park. It was nearly nine o'clock and she'd been stuck in the stifling. grimy building for almost three hours. What had started out as a routine burglary investigation had rapidly turned into a farce when the brothers who owned the business refused them access to the basement as the keys had gone missing. Patterson suspected they were running some kind of scam and Elizabeth had ordered the doors to be removed.

Requesting an inventory for the alleged stolen goods had caused another major problem. Patterson reminded the Faraday brothers they could hardly trace their property without descriptions. Eventually the two men cobbled together an almost indecipherable list which Elizabeth had spent a stupid amount of time translating and discovered to her horror many of the items were bordering on illegal.

Approximately half the products the brothers distributed were sex toys destined for shops specialising in the cheaper end of the market. However, their distribution network did not end there. It was clear to Elizabeth the most profitable goods were those making their way to outlets selling BDSM paraphernalia to private individuals. She knew the term BDSM dated back to the late sixties. The letters were an abbreviation of bondage and discipline with sadomasochism. Over the years, the practise had become more widely known due to the increase in books and films covering the subject.

The fact that their mail-order catalogue didn't include those particular products told Elizabeth all she needed to know.

While she waited for Patterson and the uniformed officers to seal the building she went over what she'd learned during her short spell with the vice squad. Sadomasochism had been around a long time and there had been several cases where certain rituals had resulted in fatalities. From what she remembered of the law, perpetrators of sadomasochistic practises, which resulted in death, faced lengthy prison sentences.

Elizabeth had read enough reports about cruel and sadistic actions causing terrible injuries. Whether the victim consented was irrelevant, police could and would prosecute. Half an hour ago, she had arrested both brothers who were now at Park Road facing interrogation. Asking for their accounts turned out to be pointless. However, forensic searches uncovered several boxes containing contact numbers and unsent orders. She'd given the task to one of her junior detectives to sift through and highlight any inconsistencies. The report on her desk had made interesting reading. The brothers had a more lucrative sideline supplying goods to BDSM parties. One particular party six months ago went tragically wrong. Several people ended up in hospital and one person had died. Elizabeth felt confident she could prove the brothers were culpable due to their disregard of the Public Safety Act. In the meantime, the warehouse would undergo further forensic searches before the rest of the stock was confiscated.

For all she felt tired, she also felt elated. Some people thought they were above the law and could blindside the police. She leaned her head against the headrest, and closed her eyes. What she wanted most was to go home, stand in the shower for half an hour and get into bed with a glass of wine. Not just to rid her body of the dust and grime from the disgusting warehouse, more to wash away some of the images she'd seen in the last few days. Elizabeth knew she wasn't a prude, but there were limits to what she found acceptable human behaviour. A knock on the window gave her a start. Patterson had pressed his face against the glass. 'You can't go to sleep there.'

Elizabeth forced herself to sit up. She opened the window. 'I'm going home Tony to get rid of this stink. Eldridge is working late tonight; collar him if you need a hand.'

'I'd like nothing more than to work him to the bone. By the way, just had a text to say our Wayne was caught gaming on police premises.'

'Quite honestly, the way I feel right now I couldn't care less so I'm passing the buck. Tell him he's an idiot if he thinks he can take Yeats on without serious consequences.'

'I know this is a stupid question but have you heard from Mrs Daly?'

Elizabeth sighed. Now wasn't the time to delve into the Daly mystery. She had her own thoughts on what could have happened but preferred to keep quiet. Speculation over Daly's whereabouts had died down at Park Road the moment Detective Superintendent Liam Yeats walked through the door. Whenever anyone asked about his predecessor, Yeats kept to the same script, repeating it was a private matter and no one's business. Elizabeth had tried to like the Irishman, unlike the rest of the team. The trouble was, she was aware from early on he didn't like her.

Elizabeth sat upright ready to go. 'If I get an early night, I'll make sure I'm in by seven thirty to start the paperwork.'

Patterson patted the roof of the car. 'I better get back and check on Eldridge.' He headed towards his car and Elizabeth fired up the engine.

She was about to turn onto the main road when her phone rang. She pulled up by the barrier. 'Yes,' she said wearily.

'It's Eldridge. Yeats wants you at Grasmere Academy now. There's been a murder.'

Elizabeth's first reaction was shock. For a brief moment, she thought he'd said murders and had felt her heart lurch. Visions of carnage ran through her head, dozens of students shot by some maniac on the rampage. There was only one way to confirm and that was to ask him. 'You did say a murder? Not murders.'

Eldridge didn't answer for a second and Elizabeth guessed something had distracted him. 'Sorry boss. I said one murder.'

Elizabeth let out a deep breath 'Student or staff member?'

'Someone's stabbed one of the art teachers. Dr Oakley's there.'

'Where's Grayson?'

'Don't know, I've tried several times but he's not picking up. I better warn you, looks like Yeats is taking control of this one.'

Elizabeth was pleased Eldridge had sussed out the situation. At one time, he would have done everything he could to cause her problems. His shift in allegiance reassured her, whether or not it lasted, only time would tell. For now all that mattered was she had him on her side. Yeats gearing up to lead a murder investigation was interesting. Surely, he had other more pressing issues to deal with, unless there was an ulterior motive, like trying to undermine her capabilities. Elizabeth knew that whatever happened, she mustn't let Yeats get to her.

'I'm on my way,' she told Eldridge and swung the car back towards the warehouse to catch Patterson before he drove off. He cracked open the window. 'I thought you'd had enough of this shithole.'

'Change of plan.' she said. 'Get in. We have a murder at the Grasmere Academy.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was after nine and
getting dark when Elizabeth and Patterson pulled up in the
Academy's car park.

Elizabeth stood by the car and
pointed to four strategically positioned CCTV cameras. 'This area's
certainly well covered.' she said.

Patterson took a closer look
at the one nearest to him. 'These are night vision
, a much higher resolution and even brighter than
Top of
For..Bottom of Form
the normal infrared LED ones. No
expense spared here.'

'Protecting their vehicles is obviously high on
their list of priorities. Seeing those, most car thieves would
think twice. It's a pity the front entrance wasn'
t kitted out like this.'

Patterson used his phone to
photograph the CCTV camera. 'The trouble is, Grasmere's biggest
security problem is at the rear. The playing fields back
on to Cresswell woods. Ages since I was last there
but I remember it's densely forested. If I wanted
to get in here undetected I'd go through the
woods. Maybe I should check it out.'

Elizabeth opened the
Saab's boot and took out a torch. 'You'll
need this.'

Patterson disappeared behind a wall and Elizabeth followed
the signs to the main entrance. She walked along a
curved pathway lit by two-foot solar lamps. She stopped
and concentrated on the surrounding area. Dotted here and there
were areas planted with mature shrubs. Some were six or
seven feet tall and planted close together, the dense foliage
making it an ideal hiding place at night, but not
so during daylight hours when Wilson was murdered.

She counted
her paces and estimated the path was approximately a hundred
yards to the entrance. Eldridge had said he would let
her in, but when she climbed the steps and peered
through the main doors there was no sign of him.
She pressed the security pad and lit a cigarette. In
front of her, well-kept lawns stretched several hundred yards
down to the busy main road. To her left she
spotted paved seating areas and to her right the tennis
courts and school playing fields, which according to Patterson, led
to the woods.

Her very first visit to the Academy
wasn't to do with police business. She'd come
with her friend Sally to see a Gilbert and Sullivan
production of The Mikado. Even the old Grasmere comprehensive had
a great reputation for musicals and she remembered reading about
a former pupil who was now a well known actress.

She heard the main door opening and turned to see
Eldridge. 'Sorry,' he said. 'Been trying to get hold of
Beresford, he's the head teacher.'

'How long before he
arrives?'

'He's on his way now.'

'Good,' she said
and stubbed out her cigarette. She picked it up and
dropped it in a waste bin. 'Where's Dr Oakley?'

'
She's in the art department which is situated in
the Dali annexe. The victim's name is Keith Wilson
and he was killed in his office.'

'Naming a school
wing after Salvador Dali is a great idea,' Elizabeth said. '
I've always liked surrealism; it's weird but really
makes you think about how we see things.'

'Never heard
of him,' Eldridge grunted.

'Instead of playing mindless computer games,
look him up on the internet. You might just find
it interesting. Years ago I saw an exhibition of Dali'
s jewellery designs. I don't think I've ever
seen so many precious stones in one place.'

'My Mum
took me to the Tower of London once. I can
remember seeing the crown jewels.'

'Wayne, I know you'd
prefer to stand here and talk to stay away in
order to keep away from Yeats, but I need you
to see Dr Oakley. Tell Yeats I'll be along
soon.'

'I can't, he'll go nuts if I
go back without you.'

Her first instinct was to ignore
Yeats' summons, but Eldridge was in enough trouble over the
gaming incident and she could see he was nervous.

'Patterson
told me you were caught playing a fantasy game. I'
m not going to bang on about it, other than
to say you're an idiot.'

Eldridge had the decency
not to argue. 'I promise it won't happen again.
I'm giving up.'

'It better not. Look, go outside
and have a smoke. I've come straight from the
Faraday's warehouse and I need to gather my thoughts
for a few minutes. Yeats can wait for once.'

'Thanks,
he's done my head in since we got here.'

Elizabeth stood by the window and tried to work out
why he needed her at the crime scene. It didn'
t make any sense. If Eldridge was right about him
taking over the investigation it was unlikely he'd need
her. However with his other obligations there was no way
he could give the case his undivided attention.

The reception
area was impressive. A curved staircase wound its way up
three floors. Above it a pyramid shaped atrium soared several
feet into the night sky. She checked the time and
moved towards the stairs as Eldridge rushed back in. 'Don'
t go up there. Yeats is on the ground floor.'

Elizabeth followed him along a wide corridor with classrooms to
the right. He stopped outside a door labelled Conference Room
One, knocked and waited. Yeats opened it. 'Where the hell
is this head teacher?' he demanded.

'He had to wait
until his wife got home so she could give him
a lift. He should be here any minute.'

'So the
headmaster of a prestigious school doesn't own a vehicle.'

Eldridge shook his head. ‘I've no idea Sir.'

'Christ
Almighty where's the man's sense of urgency. A
murder in a big school isn't exactly an everyday
occurrence. He could have phoned a cab or started walking.'

Elizabeth barged passed Yeats into the room. Two middle aged
women and a younger man were sat at an oval
table talking quietly and from their appearance were in shock.
The taller of the two women introduced herself as Mavis
Brand, the deputy head teacher. The other two explained they
taught art and media studies.

Yeats sat down and addressed
Mrs Brand. 'Did you witness many arguments between Beresford and
his staff?'

'In a school this size you can't
escape some tension and differences of opinion. Occasionally tempers would
flare, but generally everyone made an effort to get on.
We have to try and be decent role models for
our pupils. God knows some of them don't have
any in their lives, so it's vitally important.'

Seconds
later, they heard footsteps outside. Giles Beresford was breathless as
he stumbled through the door. 'Sorry, my wife was delayed.
There's been an unbelievable traffic problem all day due
to road works.'

Beresford was handsome, in an old Hollywood
movie star way. He wore a double-breasted black pin
stripe suit and his short fair hair parted on one
side. Very Gatsby, Elizabeth thought.

'Where's your own car?'
Yeats asked.

'In for an MOT, should be ready tomorrow.
He pulled out a chair, and sat with his head
in his hands. I can't believe such a dreadful
thing has happened,' he said. 'It will ruin this school'
s standing in the community.'

Yeats didn't seem impressed
by Beresford's attitude. 'I suggest you prepare yourself, things
are going to get much worse. As for the school'
s reputation, that's not my concern.'

'Keith's murder
doesn't make sense,' Beresford whined.

'No murder does,' Yeats
answered. 'What I'd like you to do right now
is make a list of all staff members, their addresses,
landline and mobile numbers. We'll need to interview every
single one of them.'

'Are you suggesting a staff member
killed Keith? We have six hundred pupils. What about them?'

Mavis Brand stood up and sounded horrified. 'You can't
accuse a pupil Giles. That's monstrous.'

'It's happened
before, so why not here?'

Yeats repeated himself. 'The addresses
and phone numbers please. The first forty-eight hours of
a murder investigation are crucial.'

Beresford was struggling to speak. '
How am I supposed to contact them all when I'
m in such a bloody state?'

'Leave that to us,'
Yeats answered.

Elizabeth could see Beresford was in a state
and looked close to tears. She wondered if he and
Wilson had been close friends. Yeats' aggressive attitude wasn't
helping him.

'You're in shock,' she said gently. 'Why
don't you sit quietly for a few minutes?'

Beresford
nodded and she glimpsed the tears on his dark eyelashes. '
Could someone make him a hot drink?' Elizabeth asked.

Mavis
Brand stood up. 'I'll see to it.' She opened
a cupboard and busied herself sorting out crockery.

Yeats threw
Elizabeth a contemptuous look then turned back to Eldridge. 'When
Mr Beresford's had his drink, go and help him.
It might speed things up.'

Elizabeth wasn't prepared to
stay for much longer. She needed to speak to Jessica
Oakley at the crime scene. 'You wanted to see me
Sir.'

'Outside,' he said.

Elizabeth had a bad premonition. Watching
Yeats carefully over the last few weeks had enlightened her
to the man's real character. He was a seasoned
bully who showed signs of some type of personality disorder,
one she couldn't readily identify.

They moved into the
corridor and Yeats leaned against the wall. 'We need this
clearing up quickly.'

'Have you spoken to Dr Oakley yet?'
Elizabeth asked him.

'I left her to do her job.
Beresford's acting strange. As soon as he's compiled
the list I want to know where he was after
the Canadian's lecture. Whether he stayed for the lunch
party and if so what time did he leave this
building. From the state he's in I reckon he'
s hiding something. A staff member overheard Wilson and him
arguing.'

'Did this person hear what it was about?'

'Only
that it wasn't the first time. She admitted to
eavesdropping until she saw the Canadian bloke walking up the
corridor. She didn't want to bump into him so
she rushed back to her classroom.'

Elizabeth guessed who the
unnamed witness was, the female art teacher inside the conference
room.

'Who is this Canadian man?' she asked.

'He's
Nisga'a First Nation from somewhere in British Columbia. That'
s a point; I need to find out which hotel
he's in.'

'Surely you don't suspect this man.
He came here to educate the kids, not brutally kill
one of their teachers.'

'I will decide who the suspects
are Jewell. Not you.'

Elizabeth heard the derision in his
voice. He was determined to demoralize at every opportunity. 'If
you'll excuse me Sir, I need to catch up
with Dr Oakley before she leaves.'

Yeats' eyes turned hostile.
She wondered how long it was worth continuing their charade.
It was evident he disliked her more as the weeks
went by. 'Are you and Oakley mates?'

'More like acquaintances,
we see each other socially now and then.'