On Cold Ground (Detective Karen Hart) Read online

  After answering a few more questions, Beverley pinched the bridge of her nose.

  ‘But I still don’t understand. If he didn’t have a heart attack, then how did he die?’

  ‘We don’t know yet,’ Sophie replied honestly.

  ‘How can you not know?’

  ‘His body was found in the cathedral. After the post-mortem, we’ll be able to tell you more.’

  ‘Was it an accident?’

  ‘I really can’t say at this stage.’

  ‘You think he was murdered, don’t you? That’s why you asked if anyone wanted to hurt him.’

  Both children looked up, their sad, worried eyes fixed on Sophie, who hesitated before saying, ‘We’re not sure. The post-mortem will tell us more.’ She slid her card across the table. ‘This has come as a terrible shock, and I’m sorry we can’t give you the answers you need yet. We’ll keep you updated on any developments. You can call me if you have questions. I’m your personal liaison officer. I can stay with you this evening, if that would help?’

  ‘No. We’re fine on our own.’

  ‘Is there anyone you want us to contact? Somebody to stay with you for a little while – a relative perhaps?’

  ‘No, we’ll be all right.’ Beverley lifted her head. ‘I just thought of something . . . Lloyd did have a falling-out with someone recently. His boss tried to pass Lloyd’s work off as his own. His boss was furious because Lloyd stood up for himself and told everyone in the office.’

  ‘When did this happen?’ Sophie asked.

  ‘About a week ago. I’m not sure of the exact date, but they had a big row in the middle of the office, lots of witnesses.’

  ‘Where did Lloyd work?’

  ‘A small software development company called Sparks. The office is in Lincoln, near the university. I can’t remember the address offhand, but I could look it up.’

  ‘No need,’ Karen said, looking up from her tablet. ‘I’ve found it online. What’s his boss’s name?’

  ‘Ross Blundell, a youngster who thinks he knows everything, according to Lloyd. No one likes him. He’s a terrible boss.’

  ‘Did you ever get to meet him?’ Sophie asked.

  Beverley shook her head.

  They made some tea and let Beverley talk about the man she’d recently married, extolling his virtues. She was very open with them, letting them look through the desk Lloyd used, and his computer. She even allowed them to take a pile of recent bank statements. It was late when Karen finally indicated to Sophie it was time to wrap things up.

  ‘I’m very sorry for your loss, Mrs Nelson,’ Karen said as they prepared to leave. ‘We’ll be in touch tomorrow, but if you have questions in the meantime, please contact DC Jones.’

  Sophie pointed to the card. ‘If you think of anything that might help us in the investigation, or you have questions, you can call me on either of those numbers,’ Sophie said, indicating her work number and her mobile. ‘And we can put you in touch with organisations who offer help to bereaved families.’

  ‘Right.’ Beverley got slowly to her feet. She looked a decade older and moved stiffly, as though her body had seized up.

  They said goodbye to the children, who were now staring blankly at the TV, then left the devastated Nelson family and returned to Karen’s car.

  When they were safely inside and couldn’t be overheard, Sophie said, ‘Well, that was interesting.’

  Karen pulled away from the kerb. ‘Yes. We’ll get on to the biological father as soon as possible. Tempers run high in custody disputes. The boss definitely needs a follow-up too.’

  ‘Beverley was very keen to drum home what a nice man Lloyd Nelson was, wasn’t she? Don’t you think that was odd?’ Sophie tucked her curly hair behind her ears and looked at Karen.

  ‘Maybe she was a bit full-on in her praise, but her emotions are all over the place. It’s likely that’s how she wants to remember him.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sophie muttered. ‘It didn’t feel right. It was as though she was trying too hard to convince us he was a good man.’

  ‘You could be right. But don’t rely too heavily on your first instinct,’ Karen said, immediately realising she sounded exactly like DI Morgan. She wondered if Sophie found the advice as irritating as she did. ‘It’s good to have hunches,’ Karen continued, ‘but they’re useless without evidence.’

  ‘I know, Sarge,’ Sophie said. ‘I’m just pointing out her desire to portray him as a good person seemed extreme, and that’s often a sign to watch out for. Last night I read another two chapters of the FBI book I told you about. It said witnesses often try very hard to persuade the investigator the opposite is true when they’re hiding the facts.’

  Karen waited for a gap in the traffic and then turned on to the main road. She didn’t need a book to tell her that Beverley’s behaviour indicated she was holding something back. The question was – what?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Karen and Sophie walked into the open-plan office area, and Karen veered right, heading straight for the coffee machine. She needed caffeine.

  Fortunately, she’d only had one glass of wine with her meal, and the effects had long worn off. She’d expected to be curled up in bed by now. Instead, it looked like she and the team had a long night in front of them.

  She programmed the machine, and as it buzzed to life, she pulled out her phone to check her messages. She had an email from Rick. He was at City Hall, trawling through the central CCTV recordings. He’d sent a clip along with his message. As expected, he confirmed that analysing the video footage wouldn’t be easy. The Cathedral Quarter had been packed with tourists, even more so than usual at this time of year.

  She tapped on the video file. It was from a camera angled towards the cathedral’s west entrance.

  People passed by, some with smiles, some with their heads down moving fast. A tall man wearing a bobble hat and long black coat sidestepped a woman struggling over the cobbles with a pushchair. Just behind her, Karen caught sight of the victim, Lloyd Nelson. He was moving with purpose towards the cathedral. He stopped beside one of the blue barriers to allow two women laden with shopping bags to go by. Then he walked quickly again, striding up to the entrance and disappearing inside.

  Why was he moving so fast? Simply to get out of the cold? Or was he rushing for another reason? Meeting someone?

  Karen cursed under her breath as the video clip froze. The timeline at the bottom showed that the video hadn’t finished. It was her phone playing up again.

  ‘Useless piece of—’

  ‘What’s up, Sarge?’ Sophie asked, wandering up to the coffee machine, mug in hand.

  ‘My phone is on the blink. Three times today it’s frozen.’

  ‘Have you tried turning it off and on again?’

  ‘Yes, and it hasn’t helped.’ Karen glared at the phone. ‘I’m going to have to get a new one.’ She removed her coffee from the machine.

  Sophie put her mug in its place and pressed the button. Then she squinted at Karen’s phone. ‘Looks quite old, anyway. When did you last apply for an update?’

  ‘It’s only three years old,’ Karen said defensively. ‘My first mobile was a Nokia that lasted for years. They don’t make phones like that anymore.’

  ‘But you couldn’t do anything on those old-style phones except call people. Speak to Resources, they’ll get you a replacement. What were you looking at?’ Sophie looked at the frozen screen.

  ‘CCTV from Rick. It shows our victim entering the cathedral. If the timestamp is correct, he went in at four p.m.’

  ‘And never came back out,’ Sophie said, picking up her coffee and blowing over the top before taking a sip. ‘Did anyone follow him in?’

  ‘Thanks to my phone, I have no idea. I’ll have to watch the video on the computer.’

  Sophie followed Karen over to her desk.

  As she waited for the machine to boot up, Karen pressed the volume and the on/off button on her phone to force a restart.

  T
he video was more comfortable to view on the large computer screen, anyway. As it began to play, Karen sipped her coffee and concentrated on the faces of the pedestrians around the cathedral.

  ‘It’s so busy,’ Sophie complained, pulling over a chair and sitting beside Karen. ‘How are we ever going to pick out the killer? Are there no cameras inside?’

  ‘Unfortunately not in the chapel. A small one near the gift shop, but I don’t think that will give us what we need.’

  A group of tourists posed for a picture in front of the cathedral. A couple with three kids trailing behind them breezed past, followed by another family and an elderly couple. A man in a red baseball cap wandered by, eating a burger. They all looked innocent enough; ordinary people visiting the market. Karen just wished there weren’t so many of them.

  A man wearing a bomber jacket, black scarf and baseball cap went into the cathedral. He could be interesting, Karen thought, and made a note of the time from the video.

  There were many other ways into the large building, and all could be potential entrance and exit points for the killer. Morgan would make sure he’d discovered all routes in and out, and if they were lucky, most aspects would be covered by cameras.

  Sophie smothered a yawn. ‘Sorry, Sarge. The coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. Should I make a start on his financials?’

  Karen checked the time. ‘Yes, that’s a good idea. Make a start on all the background checks on the victim. We need to know everything about him. Put in a request for his phone records too.’

  ‘Do you think we should call on the ex-husband or Nelson’s boss tonight?’

  ‘I’ll see what Morgan says, but I think it’s too late. We’d be better off paying them a visit tomorrow, once we’ve dug into their backgrounds too. It’s better to be prepared.’

  Sophie nodded and headed to her own desk.

  Karen drained her coffee and then replayed the video. She scanned the crowds, looking for anyone out of place. Connections were usually vital in murder investigations. Both Lloyd’s boss and Beverley’s ex-husband were high on Karen’s suspect list. Both had potential motives. On the other hand, if those markings on Lloyd’s forehead indicated a ritual murder, then they could be looking for a stranger – in which case, this investigation could be challenging. How would you solve a case without connections?

  Karen blew out a breath and then stared at the screen as the man in the baseball cap entered the cathedral. He seemed different, out of place among the Christmas shoppers. She’d like to see footage of him leaving and wondered if any other cameras had got a shot of his face. She typed a quick reply to Rick’s email, asking him to follow up.

  She reached for her mobile phone, which had now decided to cooperate, and scrolled through her contacts before selecting DI Morgan’s number. She paused with her finger just above the call button as Morgan walked into the office.

  Karen headed over to him. ‘Any news?’

  ‘The dean was very cooperative – we have a list of staff and a layout map of the cathedral.’

  ‘What about witnesses?’

  ‘Not much luck there.’ He held up a thick file. ‘We’ve got plenty of statements from tourists and staff who were inside the cathedral when the body was discovered, but no one seems to have heard or witnessed anything.’

  Morgan held open the door to his office, and Karen followed him in and sat down.

  ‘Did you see the CCTV Rick sent over?’

  Morgan shrugged off his coat. ‘Yes, it looks like our victim entered the cathedral at four p.m. Raj thinks that’s probably close to the time of death too.’

  ‘Someone went into the cathedral after him. Most likely a male, medium height and build, wearing a black jacket and a baseball cap.’

  ‘Yes. I spotted him, and asked Rick if he can source better footage from any of the other cameras.’

  Karen smiled. ‘I asked him to do that too.’

  She filled Morgan in on the visit to Nelson’s family and then asked, ‘Do you think it’s worth visiting the ex-husband or boss tonight? I thought it might be better to get to them tomorrow after we’ve gathered some more information.’

  ‘I agree. Let’s see what we can find out about our victim, try to get a good picture of him tonight, then pay our two suspects a visit tomorrow.’

  She left Morgan and headed back to her own workstation, then logged into the system, preparing to dig into Lloyd Nelson’s background.

  An hour and a half later, Karen pushed back from her desk and stretched her arms over her head to release the tension in her back. She went over her findings. Lloyd Nelson, aged forty-six. His marriage to Beverley was his first. No children of his own. No criminal record. Not even a speeding ticket. She found a website for the choir he attended. It was sparse, with few helpful details, but it did have a photo of the choir during a practice session, with their names underneath. They looked like an eclectic bunch, and Karen had noted down the names of all the members in case they needed to follow up later, though she was still betting on either the ex-husband or the boss at this stage.

  The boss, Ross Blundell, was unmarried, twenty-eight, and the sole owner of Sparks Software Design. He’d done well for himself, and the smug smile he wore in the photograph on the company’s website told Karen he knew it. He had two degrees. One in mathematics and the other in computer science. Clever. No criminal record, but three points on his licence for speeding. He lived uphill, a nice area. Expensive, but then he could probably afford it if Sparks Software Design was successful. Their client list was varied, from a bespoke accounting system for a dog food manufacturer to app development.

  Had Nelson angered him by refusing to let his boss take credit for his work, as Beverley had suggested? Or had there been more behind the row? Karen mused over the questions she wanted to ask Ross Blundell tomorrow, then turned her attention to their other person of interest.

  Brett Wharton, Beverley’s ex-husband, father to Sebastian and Caitlin. One arrest for vandalism two years ago, and another for drunk and disorderly behaviour eighteen months prior. She checked out his social media to find lots of shared posts about animal welfare, and photographs of him and his children. In the photos, Sebastian and Caitlin were young. There were no more recent photographs of the children that she could see, at least not without sending him a friend request.

  Karen wished it wasn’t so late. She had a long list of questions for Brett Wharton. He had to miss those children.

  Office arguments could spill into violence, but custody disputes unearthed a primal viciousness. Ordinary people could be driven to do terrible things if they believed their children were going to be taken from them. Judging from the information she had, Karen believed Brett Wharton had a stronger motive. She stood and rubbed the ache from the back of her neck. She’d have to wait until tomorrow to find out if she was right.

  She checked her messages, but there were no updates. Every time she opened her emails, she hoped to see a message from the officer in charge of the corruption investigation, DS Grace, who’d promised to let Karen know as soon as she had evidence to put Freeman behind bars. Karen thought they had enough, but those in charge didn’t agree. They wanted physical evidence, witness statements, proof of payments. They had Charlie Cook’s statement, but his previous record meant he was an unreliable witness.

  They’d said the same about Alice Price, an ex-police officer who’d first raised the alarm regarding possible corruption in the force. When her allegations were dismissed, so was Alice. Her career went down in flames. No one took her seriously. When Karen first met her, she’d appeared nervous and flighty. It was hard to imagine she had ever been anything other than a timid woman, seemingly scared of her own shadow. Karen was determined not to end up like Alice. She would be patient, but she would never give up.

  She glanced at the time and was shocked at how late it was. She’d said she’d call Mike, but he’d understand. He’d worked cases himself. As an ex-officer, he knew how it was.

  Karen reached f
or her phone. He might not answer, but she owed him a call. Morgan had been cold when he saw Mike at the cathedral, but Mike had only been trying to help keep gaping tourists away from a murder scene, at her request.

  Morgan didn’t approve of their relationship. Not that he’d actually come out and said as much, but Karen knew he thought getting together with Mike was a bad idea. He was entitled to his opinion, even if he was wrong.

  Mike answered on the third ring, his voice groggy. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Sorry, I woke you. I meant to call earlier.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I guessed you’d got caught up. Was it a murder?’

  ‘Sadly, yes.’

  ‘Are you heading home now? You’re welcome to come back here.’

  She was tempted. To forget about the case and curl up in bed beside Mike was an inviting prospect, but she said, ‘I’ll be here another hour or so, and then I’ll go back to mine. Early start tomorrow.’

  ‘Make sure you eat something. You can’t run on coffee alone.’

  Karen eyed her empty mug. ‘I ate enough at dinner to last me forty-eight hours!’

  He chuckled. ‘That’s no excuse. Don’t skip breakfast.’

  ‘Yeah. Yeah,’ she said, grinning. ‘I’ll give you a call tomorrow.’

  She hung up, or at least tried to, but her phone screen had frozen again. The call had ended when Mike had shut it down at his end, but her phone was unresponsive.

  ‘I’m warning you, this is your last chance,’ she said, jabbing at the screen without success.

  ‘Are you talking to your phone?’

  She looked up to see Morgan wearing a puzzled frown.

  ‘Stupid thing keeps freezing.’

  ‘Here, let me take a look.’

  With a frustrated sigh, she handed him the phone. ‘I’m going to request a new one.’

  A couple of seconds later, he handed it back, smiling. ‘It’s working fine.’

  And it was. She swiped through the app screens, shaking her head. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘Just pressed the home button twice.’

  ‘I tried that.’