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Chapter 9
Tuesday 2nd February
Cheltenham Central Police Station
‘OK, everyone back? Let’s move on. Can you update us on the Jane Holland investigation, DCI Thomson?’
Steph turns away from the monitor for a moment to nod at Jess Gordon, who’s just re-entered the room. She gestures for Jess to take the now-empty seat next to her, then looks back at the screen, checking that everyone is in position again after the short pause in the meeting.
‘Of course,’ says Priya. ‘But first, now she’s gone, how sure are we that Mary Ellis is for real?’
‘Yes, I’d like to quickly discuss that,’ says Linda. ‘Look, my gut feeling is that she’s probably not going round killing people. In fact, everything she’s told us feels genuine. But we still need to ask the questions. What if she’s an accomplice? What if she has someconnectionwith the killer, maybe? She could still have written those names in the diary herself. She’s already said she wants to write about all this, and it’s a hell of a story, isn’t it? Call me cynical, but I don’t trust journalists. I still think it’s odd that a serial killer, if that’s really what we’re dealing with here, would warn any of his victims in advance like this. Anyone else?’
Steph nods slowly.
‘I know. I agree there must be a reason she’s been selected as the victim he’s decided to give information to. We’ll keep a very close eye on her, and we are currently checking out where she was onbothnights in question now, just to cover ourselves. I’m assuming her New Year’s Eve alibi has already been checked, although I’m not sure why I haven’t heard anything yet. I’ll report back as soon as I can.’
‘Great,’ says Priya. ‘OK. Jane Holland. Well, unlike in Oxford where you didn’t have any luck with CCTV, Linda, we do actually have some footage of the suspect. But honestly, it’s not great.’
She sighs.
‘There was a CCTV camera at the front of the victim’s house only. There’s a secure side gate, with code entry, which is the only official access to the rear of the property, so maybe she felt safe enough with just that, because she had no cameras at the side or rear. If you wanted to burgle the place, you could easily hop over the wall from one of the neighbour’s back gardens, although I suppose you’d be taking a chance as quite a few of the properties on the road do have cameras front and back … Anyway, I digress. It’s irrelevant, because it seems the attacker simply strolled up the driveway and rang the doorbell.’
‘What?’ says Linda Lake. ‘But you said the footage isn’t great? Why not?’
Priya sighs again.
‘There are two cameras, one angled to cover the entire driveway and one pointing downwards, covering the front door. At ten minutes past midnight, we see somebody jog up the drive. I say somebody, because it’s impossible to tell if it’s a man or a woman. Black clothing; a bulky padded jacket, black gloves, and a baseball cap pulled down low over their eyes. They keep their head down, and they’re moving quickly. They ring the doorbell several times, and then it seems they flatten themselves against the wall or something, because they’re out of sight of the cameras until Jane opens the door about ninety seconds later. There’s a brief conversation on the doorstep, which we can’t hear – the cameras are vision only – and then, well, Jane lets them in.’
She shrugs.
‘So was it someone she knew, or at least recognised?’ she continues. ‘Or did a stranger persuade her to let them in for some reason? We simply have no way of knowing, because that’s where our footage at the house ends. We have nothing from inside or from the rear garden – nothing from the neighbour’s cameras either. Next door does have a security camera at the rear of the property but it’s only capturing footage of its own garden, understandably. Anyway, Jane and the killer clearly went outside for some reason and then he obviously hit her. Cause of death has been confirmed as a single vicious blow to the back of the head. She would have died pretty quickly.’
There’s silence for a few seconds. Then Jess says:
‘Why take her outside? Why not just bop her over the head indoors? She lived alone, didn’t she? No witnesses. Why risk doing it in the back garden, where one of the neighbours could have seen what was happening?’
‘No idea,’ says Priya. ‘Just one of many questions we have about this. It makes no sense. There’s some CCTV footage from other houses along the street too, by the way. We see him enter Oaks Road on foot a minute or so earlier, running. As in, jogging. Like somebody out for a late-night run, which might sound odd to some but it’s actually relatively common in Birmingham.’
‘In Cheltenham too,’ says Steph. ‘I’ve seen people out running at all sorts of odd times. Four in the morning, for example. I’d say they must be bonkers, but I’ve actually done it myself now and again before an early shift, or if I can’t sleep. It’s quite a nice time to run. Quiet.’
‘So have I, actually,’ says Jess. ‘Especially in summer.’
‘Right. Well, fair enough, although it certainly wouldn’t be my time of choice for exercise,’ says Priya. ‘Anyway, at about 12.20, so only ten minutes or so after he rings Jane’s doorbell, he’s off again, running down the road. No sign of any weapon, although as I said, the jacket looks quite bulky so maybe he was concealing it under that. Still no footage that shows any clear pictures of his face. The peak of his cap conceals it, and he keeps his head down, and runs fast. He’s fit, that’s about all we know. It’s hard to even guess at his height. Probably between five-five and six foot though.’
‘So, a person of indeterminate sex, indeterminate height, and fairly fit. Great. Not much to go on, is it?’ says Bryn. ‘Anything at all at the scene? Footprints, maybe?’
‘We do have a couple of footprints, yes,’ says Priya. ‘Not many, and not very clear though. It was a dry night, and we haven’t had any rain here for days, which is unusual for Birmingham in January. It was cold and frosty though, so there were imprints in the grass – two sets of footprints, Jane’s and her killer’s, walking down the garden, and one set leaving again. They show he left via the side gate, which doesn’t require a code from the garden side, by the way. He didn’t go back through the house. But he was clever: as he left he more or less retraced his steps down the garden and it looks like he deliberately scuffed his footprints. You know, sort of shuffled his feet in the grass, so they’re not clear? We got a couple of half-decent ones, enough to be able to identify the brand. They’re Adidas, and unfortunately a really common style. I’ve got a pair myself. So, again, not much help.’
‘It’s something though. We didn’t get so much as a single print here. What size?’ says Linda.
‘We’re not certain, due to the way he made sure to mess them up,’ says Priya. ‘Not tiny, though. Probably between a size six and a nine, maybe ten maximum.’
‘Oh crap,’ says Linda. ‘That doesn’t help much then. As far as I can remember, the average male shoe size in the UK is nine and female is six. Dammit. Where does he go, Priya, once he leaves Oaks Road?’
‘We pick him up on a couple of cameras on nearby streets,’ says Priya. ‘But we lose him about ten minutes later. He runs into a CCTV blackspot, and that’s it. He’s clearly smart, and organised. The cap, the head down, the speedy entrance and exit, leaving nothing at the scene except messed up footprints. He may have left a vehicle somewhere out of view of any local cameras, who knows. It’s beyond frustrating.’
‘It is,’ says Linda. ‘But it does give ussomethingto go on here in Oxford. As you know, there were no cameras around the spot where Lisa Turner was murdered. But I’m going to go back to the footage from adjacent streets now and see if we can see anyone out for a run in dark clothing. You never know, right?’
