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Briggs glanced at the landlord. “Mr Singh, would you go downstairs now, please? I’d like a private word with my officers. We’ll sort it out from here.”
Singh left, complaining about the mess and the rent arrears and how he was going back to Asia.
Briggs turned to Gardener, who was now in conference with his sergeant. “Reilly, what are your thoughts on Summers?”
“I agree with the boss. It wasn’t what he told us, it was what he left out. I got the impression he was too careful with his answers.”
Briggs eyed Gardener. “Did he make any reference to Myers? Or anyone else that worked for him, apart from the two dead ones?”
“No. But he’s hiding something. I don’t know what, but so help me God, I’m going to find out. Look at the evidence. Three elderly men, all dead, all living alone in slums. All working for Summers. Maybe it’s a grudge. Maybe they have something on him.”
“So, what else do you know about him?”
“Nothing,” answered Gardener. “You had to be there to know what I’m talking about. He’s sly. He’s creepy, and he’s lying. I asked Co
lin Sharp to look into his background.”
“I think the boss is right,” Reilly added. “That man makes your spine tingle. He didn’t show an ounce of concern that his employees had been killed.”
“What do you want to do?” Briggs asked.
“We’re going back this afternoon. I want a Section 8 search warrant for his property and anything else I want. Even if Summers isn’t the killer, I’m pretty sure he’s involved. There’s a link, and I’m going to find it.”
Briggs was about to respond when Fitz walked into the room. “Nothing new here, then,” said the pathologist.
“Steve Fenton has another syringe, Fitz.”
Fenton passed it over.
“Anything else I need to know?”
“No,” said Gardener, “I think we’re about finished. Steve, you and your team carry on searching.”
Gardener turned to the pathologist. “Fitz, the body downstairs, anything to tell me?”
“I’d estimate time of death around ten o’clock last night. I can’t say for certain, but I think the fall killed him. I’ll know more when I’ve examined him.”
Gardener walked out of the room and called PC Benson up the stairs. “Benson, the team is on their way. Take a couple of constables with you and comb the area. I doubt you’ll find anything, but try all the same.”
Gardener pointed at the syringe Fitz held. “Fitz, I need the analysis as quickly as possible.”
Fitz nodded.
Gardener turned back into the room and stood silent for a moment. He strode over to the DVD player, bent down, ejected the disc. He put it back in and waited for it to load before pressing the play button.
When the action started, Briggs’ jaw dropped. “Oh, Jesus Christ!”
They watched, horrified, as the two missing teenage girls, whom they’d all struggled to find, were degraded in front of their eyes. The perverted recipient of their attentions was none other than Herbert Plum. In a Santa suit.
Chapter Fifty
Neither detective waited for an invitation before pushing past the elderly butler as he opened the door.
“Is Summers at home?” inquired Gardener.
“He is, sir, but he’s with a client.”
“Tell the client to leave,” Gardener called over his shoulder as he headed towards Summers’ study.
