The Cedar Face: DI Jewell book 3 (DI Elizabeth Jewell) (5 page)

'Then meeting
her here is more than a professional encounter.' Yeats snapped.

At first Elizabeth wasn't sure what he meant. Then
it dawned on her. 'I don't indulge in idle
gossip when I'm working, if that's what you'
re getting at. Of course I'll ask how she
is, but we're both here for a purpose, so
you're wrong again.'

'You're known as a time
waster. No one gets away with that when I'm
in charge.'

Elizabeth had to curtail her fury. Unlike Daly,
she couldn't fly off the handle whenever she felt
like it. 'Whatever you say Sir.'

'Where's Patterson?' he
asked.

She watched his eyes and knew she'd made
a mistake. By dragging Patterson along he'd assume she'
d added him to the investigation team. 'He's waiting
for me in the car,' she lied.

He watched her
carefully. 'You're lying and I don't take kindly
to liars. You brought Patterson deliberately so you'd have
an ally on this case. I asked specifically for you,
not him as well. You've just proved to me
you're suitability for this murder enquiry is debatable.'

Elizabeth
didn't intend to grovel. 'You're the boss,' she
said, turned her back on him and walked away.

Yeats
grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around. 'Don'
t mess with me Jewell. I'm not Daly. You
and Patterson are joined at the hip and I've
already figured out your tactics. You want rid of me,
I knew that the first time I clapped eyes on
you and you'll use as many people as you
can to achieve it. Well safety in numbers won't
help you. I haven't decided how to deal with
you but tell your Sergeant he's back on desk
duty. Indefinitely.'

CHAPTER EIGHT

Elizabeth hurried back to the main
entrance hoping no one would see her. She breathed a
sigh of relief when she saw Patterson lounging against the
Saab.

'I was just about to phone you,' he said.

'
It's a good job you didn't. Listen, take
the car and go back to Park Road. I still
haven't spoken to Jessica.'

Patterson's eyes narrowed, he
was no fool, especially when someone was economical with the
truth. 'Yeats has upset you, hasn't he?'

'Annoyed me,
but then he'd annoy a saint. How did you
get on in the woods?'

'I'd forgotten how scary
it was. I wouldn't recommend anyone go there at
this time of night. As for a method of gaining
access, I'd give Cresswell woods five stars. We need
Crime Scene in there early tomorrow morning.'

Elizabeth needed to
stall. Right now she couldn't face telling him Yeats'
s decision. 'I'll organise that. Listen, I better get
back inside.'

Patterson looked confused. 'Do you want me to
come back and collect you?'

'Go home Tony. I'll
ring Darren when I'm ready.'

She watched him drive
away and dreaded having to tell him about Yeats' ultimatum.

Jessica Oakley was on her knees bent over Wilson's
body. Elizabeth stood on the other side of his office
door. Jessica heard her and looked up. 'Two ticks Liz,
I'm nearly done.'

'I need a coverall,' Elizabeth said.

'
Jessica signalled to one of the crime scene investigators. 'Sid,
find DI Jewell a flattering outfit. He searched through a
plastic container and handed over a sealed package. Elizabeth removed
the blue suit from its package and slipped it on.

Jessica peeled off her latex gloves, dumped them into a
biohazard bag and came towards her. 'I haven't seen
you for ages Liz.'

'I heard a rumour you were moving to Bristol,' Elizabeth said.

'I changed my mind, but it's a long story which I promise to tell when there's more time.'

Although Elizabeth didn't see the pathologist very often, she'd always admired her. Jessica lived in Cheltenham but worked mainly in Gloucester hospital in the laboratories. She was also one the few senior pathologists who covered for Joe Grayson during his holidays or in emergencies. 'I'm here unofficially. Yeats has just told me Patterson and I are not on the Wilson case.'

'Who is Senior Investigating Officer?' Jessica asked.

'Yeats.'

Jessica grimaced. 'I better shape up before he starts on me. I've barely spoken to him and he gives me the creeps. He certainly wouldn't win any charm awards.'

'You'll be okay. He can't alienate everybody.'

'Why you Liz, what have you done to antagonise him?'

'God knows. Since he took over at the beginning of March, I've made an effort to get on with him. He's on edge all the time, as if he's waiting for something to happen. I'm probably overreacting but I think he's dangerous.'

'Be careful, I know a cold specimen when I see one. My advice is stay out of his way.' Jessica looked out into the corridor. 'Get in quick and I'll tell you what I've deduced so far.'

Elizabeth stepped through the doorway and entered the crime scene.

'I've examined the victim and I'm certain he was killed no more than two hours ago. The younger cleaner had copious amounts of blood splatter on her hands and sections of her clothing. Without asking the older woman to strip, I can't be sure how close she got to the body. If these women aren't suspects then it's a miracle neither of them was attacked. Whoever killed the teacher might have killed them too.'

Elizabeth thought for a few seconds. 'Which tells me two things, the killer either didn't know they were in the building, or if he did know, he didn't care. Most teachers have an idea when cleaners come and go which means we have plenty of potential suspects working here. I'll go with two possible scenarios. A disgruntled teacher maybe, or student reaping revenge. Or, Wilson disturbed a burglar.'

'I agree Liz, eliminate an inside job first. Jessica peered through the window and pointed to the headlights. 'The first vultures have arrived. Two media vans have just pulled up. A murder in a big school like this is bad news,' Jessica said.

'Unfortunately it's good news for them.'

Elizabeth gave the immediate area her full attention. She'd attended far worse crime scenes. The killer had trashed Wilson's office and the adjoining studio and gallery giving credence to the burglary theory. It was obvious the killer had searched for something but time had run out. She moved carefully towards Wilson's body. It lay at right angles to a large desk positioned like the letter X, his expression bewildered. As if he was trying to make up his mind about something before he'd died. She stared at the knife. It would have taken a lot of force to push the weapon in up to the hilt.

She stood up and spoke to Jessica. 'That's an interesting handle. I don't think I have seen anything like it before.'

'I can't be absolutely certain until I take it out, but I don't think it's actually a knife.'

'Can you be more specific?' Elizabeth asked.

'I'm no expert Liz. Like I said let's wait until it's out.'

Elizabeth pointed at the stains on the floor. 'I can see plenty of blood has seeped from the wound, but that's a different red, so what is it?'

'It's ordinary emulsion they use for painting scenery. Whoever's in charge certainly didn't deprive the pupils of artist's materials; the storeroom is full. My guess is the killer deliberately contaminated the scene and paint was the only thing available. He could hardly waste time looking for a bottle of bleach. I can't understand his logic, probably panicked and thought it might confuse us.'

'Unless someone tripped over it,' Elizabeth said.

'You mean the cleaner who found him?'

'Maybe Wilson had opened it in preparation for his class and left it on the floor.' Elizabeth suggested.

'Those areas where the paint and blood have merged together will cause problems but we might get lucky once they're analysed. Right, this is what I've surmised so far. Our killer stabbed Wilson while he was standing up. Wilson tried pulling the weapon out and when he realised he couldn't, staggered to the door hoping to alert someone. Then he must've fallen backwards and that's when the killer moved him. There are drag marks on the floor here,' Jessica pointed to the smeared blood.

Elizabeth studied the stains. 'I wonder why he changed Wilson's position.'

'I don't think the splayed arms and legs are significant in any way. He was probably dragged by the elbows and ended up like that.'

Jessica held her arms up. 'Like this,' she continued. 'Libby, one of the cleaners can't remember exactly what she did after finding the body. She says she didn't touch anything, but there was blood all over her hands and clothes so it's possible she moved Wilson too. The other cleaner can't seem to recall much either. Personally, I believe she can remember, but wants to protect her friend. They're a couple of average women. Imagine the shock the older woman got seeing her friend in that state. She might even suspect her of doing the deed.' Jessica checked her watch. 'I'll learn more tomorrow.'

'No post-mortem tonight I guess.'

'I better wait until I contact Grayson. If I go ahead and he's on his way home, I can foresee difficulties. I like to lead a quiet life Liz. And after that scare Grayson had with the suicide, he's a stickler for procedure now.'

'I know what Grayson is like,' Elizabeth stated. 'Will I be in your way if I have a look around?'

'You'll have to be quick. The morgue machine's on the way.'

Elizabeth made a more detailed examination of both the office and studio. If the killer had deliberately damaged paintings and other artwork, perhaps this was definitely a revenge attack. It might explain the frenzied search. She wondered what was so important. Other possibilities came to her. A student unhappy about their grades, looking to get into a top university and for reasons unknown Keith Wilson had scuppered their plans. There was something odd about the studio, but for some reason she couldn't figure it out. When she'd first looked, it had seemed obvious, now her mind drew a blank.

Ten minutes later Wilson's body was on its way to the morgue and Jessica had promised to keep in touch. 'I wouldn't want to get you into any trouble,' she'd said.

Elizabeth had to laugh. 'I'm already too far-gone so what difference would it make?'

Yeats, Eldridge and Beresford were still in the small conference room when she passed by on her way out. The temptation to speak to Yeats was great but she resisted, knowing it would only make matters worse. She was about to ring DC Johnson when she heard Yeats shout her name.

'I want to talk to you in private,' he said leading her out of the building then across the lawn to one of the seating areas. It was much darker now, Elizabeth shivered even though the night was warm. For some reason, she felt vulnerable being alone with him.

'As you've had time to snoop around the crime scene I wondered if you'd come up with any ideas?' he said.

'It's not down to me to put forward any ideas. That's your responsibility.'

'In case you need reminding Jewell, we need this sorted quickly. By tomorrow morning, we will have every parent clamouring for a solution. Most of them won't even want to send their kids back here, especially the younger ones. Because it's a highly emotive situation, the Chief Constable is having a meltdown. He's just rung me and expects a progress report by tomorrow morning. I want to give some of the junior detectives a chance, which will give me a bigger team. Eldridge better shape up or he'll be on the transfer list. You should have dealt with his attitude problems earlier. When I came here, my first objective was to get rid of Park Road's entrenched apathy. Daly allowed discipline to slide into the mud, where it's remained ever since. The situation is going to change, starting with this investigation.'

Elizabeth knew any tactics she'd employed with Daly would never work with this man. He was like a red rag to a bull and she was sure she could see the beginnings of a red mist before her eyes. Yeats looked directly at her, waiting for a reply.

'How dare you fucking criticise us. Cheltenham is not fucking Belfast and I would be grateful if you remembered that fact. You make it sound as if DCS Daly was running a fish and chip shop, instead of a highly organised police station. You accuse us of acting like bumbling, incompetent, amateurish detectives.'

Elizabeth felt a sharp pain in her head and wondered if she was about to pass out. What she wanted to do was walk away, but if she did, she knew Yeats would see it as defeat. Instead, she concentrated on staying upright and defiant. He said nothing for what seemed like minutes, but it was only seconds. When he did, she stepped back as if to protect herself. Yeats had moved forward, his face twisted in anger.

'You're a loose cannon Jewell and one day you'll pay the price. In the meantime, I suggest you deal with the backlog of shit back at Park Road and stay out of my way. You can forget interfering in this case. Lastly, a word of warning, if you try garnering support from the Chief Constable or DCI Daly you will be wasting your time. I have it on good authority that both of them would be glad to see the back of you.'

Elizabeth struggled to hold back the tears after he mentioned Daly. Although she knew he was deliberately lying, his words still cut her to the very core. For all her faults, her colleagues and team still respected her. There was no way she'd ever allow this hard- nosed, bastard to ruin her friendships and career.

'I don't take threats kindly. I might look like a feeble woman, but I've met tougher characters than you, check my records if you haven't already done so.'

Yeats smiled. 'They made good reading on the plane ride over. Let me be blunt. I don't like working with women and just admitting it could land me in the shit. Especially with the likes of you, who the minute I turn my back, will start telling everyone I'm a prejudiced bastard. A bit of advice, slating me will be a waste of time. You've alienated Gloucestershire's Chief Constable, who I can guarantee doesn't give a damn about your petty complaints.'

Elizabeth tried to find a suitable retort but her mind went blank. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and when she opened them, Yeats was gone. She rested her back against the wooden seat eager to get back to Park Road but anger had used up most of her energy. How could she ever work with this man? Why discriminate against Patterson, who had suffered a serious injury in the line of duty. Surely even Yeats was capable of compassion. It was the old trick of divide and rule and Yeats didn't give a damn about seeking justice for Keith Wilson. She knew very little about his history but now she had more time on her hands she could rectify that. Most people, at some time in their life made mistakes. Working for Special Branch, Yeats had more to hide than most. As she'd pointed out to him, Cheltenham, unlike Belfast, hadn't suffered years of unrest and violence. Maybe he was psychologically better equipped to solve terrorist crimes quickly but that didn't give him the skills to solve this one.

Not everything he'd said she'd disagreed with. A teacher murdered on school premises was a horrendous incident affecting hundreds of children and their families. Elizabeth knew she wouldn't sleep at night until they caught the murderer. If she'd had kids, there was no way she'd allow them to return to school. More media presence had started setting up on the main road. Thank god this time she didn't have to deal with them. Elizabeth's thoughts went back to Patterson. How to break the bad news was bothering her. Another spell cooped up behind a desk would certainly frustrate and depress him. Yeats could do what he liked with her, but to punish Patterson in the process was nasty.