On Cold Ground (Detective Karen Hart) Page 16

  Nina’s features tightened. ‘It could be. She didn’t tell me that, though. She said it was an unfair dismissal and they were lucky she didn’t sue them.’

  Nina was unaware that they’d already found a bag of white powder in her sister’s flat. Karen considered it unlikely Laurel had quit her drug habit when she left London.

  She watched Leo as he asked Nina more questions. He was good, Karen thought – competent and kind. Nina opened up to him, talking more about her relationship with her sister. It hadn’t been an easy one. Sibling rivalry – and perhaps a bit of selfishness on Laurel’s part – had led to a difficult relationship. Despite that, Nina’s grief was real, and it was clear she desperately regretted not coming to her sister’s aid the one time she really needed her.

  Afterwards, as they walked back to the car, Leo asked, ‘What did you make of her?’

  ‘I think Nina is the type of person who’s honest to a fault.’ They’d only been inside for a minute when Nina had confessed to having a cat even though her landlord didn’t allow pets. ‘If she knew who was responsible for her sister’s murder, she’d tell us.’

  ‘I agree,’ Leo said as he shifted aside for a woman pulling a shopping trolley. ‘They obviously had a difficult relationship, but there was love there too. What did you make of the drug angle?’

  ‘If this were a new case, completely unrelated to anything else, then I’d consider that the major lead,’ Karen said, putting her hands in her pockets as the wind picked up.

  Sleet began to fall from the heavy grey clouds.

  ‘But you think it’s related to the Lloyd Nelson case?’

  ‘Don’t you?’ Karen turned to look at Leo.

  He nodded sombrely, rubbing his chin. ‘There are several coincidences.’

  Karen thought back to what he’d said earlier. Sometimes a coincidence really is just that. But in this case, there were far too many of them.

  ‘Both victims were strangled, leaving almost identical markings. I wouldn’t be surprised if Raj tells us they were made by the same type of ligature. And both victims had crosses carved into their foreheads. How many times have you seen that before on a murder victim? Because I never have.’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Leo said. ‘But the question now is what do Lloyd and Laurel have in common? Because from where I’m standing, I can’t see a link at all.’

  And that was the problem. There seemed to be nothing connecting the two victims apart from the mode of death. It looked random. And that scared Karen.

  She hunched her shoulders up against the cold as she dug around in her bag for the car keys.

  She couldn’t think that way. She couldn’t even contemplate them not finding this twisted killer, because that would be a terrible failure. It might look random, but there had to be a link. If they worked hard enough, they’d find it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  On Wednesday morning, Karen woke early. It had been another quiet night at Morgan’s. The security system hadn’t been activated.

  She opened the curtains and looked out at the dark street. They’d worked late last night. Finally leaving the station after midnight.

  She showered, dressed and worked out how to use Morgan’s coffee machine before he came downstairs.

  ‘You’re up early.’

  Karen got up from the chair by the window and stretched. ‘Couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about the case, trying to figure out the link between our murder victims.’

  ‘Is there one?’ Morgan asked, holding out his hand for Karen’s empty coffee mug. ‘Another?’

  ‘Please.’ She followed him into the kitchen. ‘If there is, I haven’t found it yet. Beverley Nelson doesn’t know Laurel. Nina Brown said she doesn’t know anyone called Lloyd. They have no crossover contacts on social media.’

  Morgan poured the coffee. ‘It’s difficult to see what they have in common.’

  ‘Exactly. The only thing I can think of is that they probably both owed money.’

  ‘The drugs and gambling?’ He handed Karen her mug.

  ‘Right.’ She took a sip. ‘But they were unlikely to owe money to the same person.’

  ‘It’s not unheard of for drugs and gambling to be overseen by a criminal group.’

  ‘No, but it’s not common. And I can’t imagine the top dog in a powerful crime syndicate going after two people for a few hundred quid.’

  ‘How much cocaine did you find at the flat? Owing her dealer is one thing, but if she was dealing herself, encroaching on another dealer’s turf?’

  ‘We haven’t found any evidence she was dealing and only found a tiny amount of cocaine at the flat. I spoke to her previous employer yesterday. He said they’d suspected she’d been taking drugs at work for a while, and after she was caught on one of the internal cameras snorting drugs at an office party, they let her go.’

  Morgan thought for a moment. ‘And you’re sure they were killed by the same person.’

  ‘Yes, I’m convinced they were.’ Karen sighed. Her mind was going around in circles. She felt like a dog chasing its tail.

  Something was off about the letter to Morgan too. He’d gone through his past cases, to see if the note was from an angry criminal he’d dealt with in the past, but had come up blank.

  ‘Any new theories as to why you received the letter?’ Karen asked.

  ‘My past sins, you mean?’

  ‘There has to be a reason it was sent to you.’ She smiled. ‘Are you sure you don’t have skeletons lurking in the closet?’

  Morgan shook his head. ‘I’ve been thinking about it non-stop, but there’s nothing, unless it’s a past case . . . And even then, I can’t think of anyone who’d go to these lengths . . .’

  Karen took another sip of her coffee. Drugs, gambling . . . were they red herrings? Was there something else that linked the victims? Something they’d missed so far?

  ‘Okay, so the link is the killer. He or she knew them both,’ Morgan said.

  ‘Or it’s random. The Cleanser is selecting victims they believe are sinners.’

  ‘Which would make them far harder to catch.’

  Karen nodded miserably.

  ‘But not impossible,’ Morgan said. ‘You’ll get there.’

  ‘I wish I had your confidence. How’s the Pickett case progressing?’

  Morgan grimaced. ‘About as well as yours. The parents are devastated, but I have nothing new to tell them. I’m only grateful I didn’t haul Will Pickett in for questioning. That would have made things a hundred times worse.’

  Karen tensed and put her mug down on the counter. ‘I’m sorry. That was my fault. I was so sure Lloyd travelled that way home. It was the right time, and he didn’t have a licence so could have panicked and driven off rather than stopping to call for help . . . It all seemed to make perfect sense until we got the forensics back and his car was clean.’

  ‘No harm was done. Will Pickett will never know how close we were to bringing him in.’

  Dawn light gave the sky a pinkish glow. Karen leaned on the counter, looking out of the frosted window. Despite the cold, a robin was singing in the back garden, impatient for the sun to come up and the day to start. Karen shared the bird’s impatience.

  They left Morgan’s and made the journey to Nettleham in their separate cars.

  They hadn’t been at work long when Leo approached Karen’s desk. He still had his padded jacket on but wore gloves. Not woolly, cold-weather gloves, but blue nitrile gloves, the type they wore when handling evidence. He had something clutched in his right hand.

  ‘Everything all right, Leo?’

  ‘Not really, no.’ His hands were trembling. ‘I woke up to find this on my doormat.’

  ‘What is it?’ Karen asked, but she didn’t need to. The white envelope in the evidence bag provided the answer. ‘Another letter.’

  Leo nodded. ‘Scared me half to death when I found it.’

  ‘Does it mention you by name?’

  Leo shook his head. ‘No, b
ut it mentions the second victim, Laurel Monroe. I took a photo of it on my phone and sent it to the team email.’

  Karen reached for her phone, but the screen wouldn’t respond. Muttering under her breath, she logged on to her email on the computer. While it was loading, she glanced up at Leo. He was leaning against her desk and didn’t look steady on his feet. She pulled over a chair. ‘Sit.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He sank into it and held the letter out from his body, as though he were expecting it to catch alight.

  ‘Have you filed it in the evidence log?’

  ‘Not yet. I was . . . well . . . I just came straight here.’ He reached up and cupped a hand over his mouth, breathing into it. ‘Didn’t even clean my teeth. Just threw on some clothes and headed to the station.’

  Karen opened the email Leo had sent, and the note appeared on the screen.

  By now, you’ll have discovered my second sacrifice. It took you long enough. I’m sure Laurel Monroe would have been disappointed no one looked for her earlier. But then she didn’t deserve anyone to care, did she? She was a sinner. She spent her nights behind a sex cam to earn enough dirty money to spend on her disgusting drug habit.

  But now she is clean. I have cleansed her of sin.

  Laurel died on the same day as Lloyd, but it took you days to find her. I wonder how long it will take you to find the next one. Perhaps I should give you a clue to level the playing field?

  The next one will be much closer to home.

  The Cleanser.

  Karen swallowed hard and reread the text.

  Everything seemed to fade around her, except the bright computer screen. The words stood out, black on white. It was all she could see. The world started to spin. She put her hands over her eyes, taking a moment, trying to think straight.

  Closer to home?

  That was a threat. Did it mean one of the team would be next? Morgan?

  ‘You okay, Sarge?’ Rick’s voice made Karen turn. He walked over to stand beside Leo.

  She managed to nod. ‘Yeah. It’s . . .’ She searched for the words but came up blank.

  ‘You look exactly how I felt when I found the letter,’ Leo said. ‘Do you think I’m a target?’ he added as Rick read the note over Karen’s shoulder.

  Rick let out a low whistle.

  Karen wanted to reassure Leo. He looked at her with fear in his eyes. He was willing her to say it was all phoney bluster, an empty threat, but she couldn’t lie. She couldn’t play this down. It was too serious.

  ‘I think we’re all at risk, Leo.’ She pushed herself up from the desk. ‘Is Churchill in yet?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then we need to file this in evidence and go straight to the super.’

  Leo’s colour had come back by the time they got upstairs; his cheeks were pink. They’d left the letter in the evidence locker and printed out a copy of Leo’s photograph of the contents. Karen thought Superintendent Murray would be satisfied to see the photo of the note. When they reached Pamela’s desk, the superintendent’s assistant looked up. ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Morning, Pamela. We need to see the superintendent.’

  ‘She’s on a call.’

  ‘It’s very urgent.’

  ‘All right. Just a moment.’ Pamela pressed the white flashing light on her telephone and put a call through to the office. ‘DS Hart’s outside. She says it’s urgent.’

  A moment later, Pamela waved them in.

  Superintendent Murray hung up the phone as they entered the office. ‘DS Hart, DC Clinton, what’s the problem?’

  ‘There’s been another letter, ma’am. Delivered to DC Clinton’s house.’

  The super frowned as Karen placed the printed copy of the note on her desk. She quickly read the letter.

  ‘No mention of Morgan this time,’ she mused. ‘And no mention of DC Clinton, even though it was sent to his house?’

  ‘No, ma’am, but I have to say, I’m rattled,’ Leo said. ‘They must have put the note through the letterbox while I was sleeping.’

  She nodded. ‘I understand. It’s horrible. Do you have someone you can stay with for a few days?’

  ‘I do,’ Leo said slowly. ‘But to be honest, I think my presence would put them at risk, and I’m not prepared to do that. I couldn’t live with myself if . . .’

  ‘A hotel then? We can cover expenses. Vary your routine. Don’t be predictable.’ She glanced at Karen. ‘That goes for you too, and all members of the team. Be alert.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ Karen said.

  ‘Are the allegations in the letter true?’

  ‘We believe Laurel Monroe regularly took cocaine, but the sex-cam stuff came as a surprise,’ Karen said. ‘We have her phone and laptop, so if it’s true, we’ll find evidence on there.’

  ‘It could be a client?’ Leo suggested. ‘Someone who watched her on the internet?’

  ‘Did Lloyd Nelson use any of the sex-cam sites?’ the super asked.

  ‘No,’ Karen said. ‘At least, his laptop and phone were clean. I suppose it’s possible he could have had a spare phone or tablet we haven’t found. Perhaps he had it on him when he died, and The Cleanser took it with them.’

  ‘Well, those sites aren’t free,’ Leo said. ‘We should have seen evidence on his bank or credit card statements if he made payments.’

  The super and Karen both turned to look at Leo, who flushed pink. ‘I mean, not that I know that much about it . . .’

  ‘That’s your priority then,’ the super said. ‘Find out Laurel’s secrets. They could lead us to the killer. And send DCI Churchill up to my office as soon as he gets in.’

  When they got back down to the open-plan office, they found Sophie at her desk and told her about the second letter. Karen gave her a moment as she struggled with the news. She was caught between excitement at working on a case with her first potential serial killer and terror at the idea that one of the team could be targeted.

  ‘I’ll get on to the tech team, tell them specifically what we’re interested in, so they can prioritise,’ Sophie offered, processing the development. ‘This is pretty scary, Sarge. Maybe we could ask Dr Michaels if he has any ideas.’

  Karen frowned, then remembered Dr Michaels was the self-proclaimed serial killer expert from America. ‘I think we should keep things in-house for now.’

  ‘But he’d be able to help. He’s worked on cases like this before.’

  ‘I’ll mention it to the superintendent, but we need to concentrate on the basics. Thorough police work. Treat this like any other case. Focus on the details, and the big picture will become clear. I’m going to give Laurel’s sister a call. I’m sure Nina would have mentioned it if she’d known her sister was working as a sex-cam girl, but we have to make sure.’

  Churchill swaggered in, his coat still buttoned up to his chin. The tips of his ears and nose were red from the cold.

  ‘Nice to see you have time for a chat,’ he said, looking at the three of them and shaking his head. ‘I suppose you’ve already solved the murders. Because you wouldn’t be wasting time otherwise, would you?’

  He had a nerve. They’d been here early, ready to put the work in. He was the one strolling in after everyone else. Karen was tempted to point that out and order him up to the superintendent’s office, but they didn’t have time for disagreements. Their lives could be in real danger if they didn’t solve this case, and she didn’t have the energy for petty disputes with Churchill.

  Karen glanced at Leo. ‘You’d better tell him.’

  Churchill put his bag on an empty desk and began unbuttoning his coat.

  As Leo filled him in, Karen walked back to her desk. She had work to do.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Karen sat down at her desk and reviewed the note again. There was no doubt the letter was threatening. She scanned the contents, looking for clues. If the staff in the tech department managed to trace Laurel’s sex-cam footage back to a site with registered viewers, then they could get a list of customers
and start from there.

  She opened the top file on her desk, containing the background on Lloyd Nelson. They could ask Beverley Nelson if she knew if her husband had watched Laurel Monroe strip off over the internet, but that would be an awkward conversation. It was better to wait and see what information they gleaned from Laurel’s computer. Going off a half-baked theory could be hurtful to the Nelson family, and unnecessary if they were wrong.

  Karen had been quick to seize on the potential link between Lloyd Nelson driving without a licence and the hit-and-run that killed twelve-year-old Sam Pickett. That had been a lesson. She couldn’t leap to conclusions. She’d been sure there was a connection, but the forensic evidence had discredited that theory.

  She’d only flicked through the first few pages when the phone on her desk rang.

  ‘DS Karen Hart.’

  ‘Karen, it’s Todd. I’m on the desk today. Can you come down? You’ve got a delivery.’

  ‘I’ll be right there.’ Karen pushed to her feet. It had to be her new mobile phone. Finally. It was supposed to have been delivered yesterday.

  But when she reached the reception area, she saw Todd, the desk sergeant, grinning at her. She looked over to the desk but couldn’t see a parcel. He pointed to the other side of the reception area, where a familiar figure stood by the door.

  ‘Mike? Is everything all right?’ She immediately imagined there was a problem. Since the sudden deaths of her husband and daughter, she’d felt like bad news was always just around the corner. Surprises unnerved her.

  He held a large coffee in a red takeaway paper cup with a white lid, and a small brown paper bag. ‘Everything’s fine. Just brought you a coffee and your favourite pastry.’

  ‘A chocolate twist?’ Karen’s stomach rumbled in anticipation as she took the paper bag and looked inside, then inhaled the scent of the sweet buttery pastry and melted chocolate. ‘About a million calories and worth every one. Thank you.’

  ‘I was just passing.’ He shrugged. He was wearing his huge, padded black coat, making him look larger than normal, and he smelled of the cold outdoors.

  ‘Passing the station?’