Impression (DI Gardener 4)

“They can’t be that bad,” replied Reilly. “Not even in Batley.”

Gardener smiled, before continuing. “It’s not a common choice of weapon. We’ve requested a weapons expert in antiques from the National Crime Agency to come and give us a professional opinion. These guys can do great things with ageing metals and tracing origins. But while we’re waiting for him, does anyone know anything about bayonets? Recognize it at all?”

“My old man has a First World War bayonet hanging from the wall in his man cave,” Dave Rawson said.

Reilly laughed at the statemen

t. “A man cave? What the hell is a man cave?”

Dave Rawson had the build of a rugby centre forward, with short black hair, and a beard and moustache, neatly trimmed. Gardener really liked his positive mental attitude to the job: whatever task he was given, he would do. Good or bad, it was all work to him.

Rawson smiled. “I’m not really sure. I’ve never been allowed in.” That remark brought an even bigger laugh, which embarrassed the behemoth of a man.

“How do you know he has one, then?” asked Bob Anderson.

“He told me. Used to tell me as a kid that if I didn’t behave, I’d get to see it, no question.”

“Does he know much about weapons?” Gardener asked.

“I don’t think so. I don’t even know where he got it. You want me to go and ask him if he can identify ours?”

“It’s worth a stab.”

The room erupted with laughter, and Gardener realized what he had said. “Okay, okay, let’s get back to business.”

“Any sign of a struggle? Forced entry?” asked DCI Briggs.

“Forced entry, no,” replied Gardener. “I suspect it was a client she simply let in.” Gardener turned and pointed to the photos. “As you can see from these, there was definitely a struggle. Table and chairs all overturned.”

“Neighbours hear anything?”

“She lives in an end house, so there’s only one. A widow named Beryl Potts. She was out from eight till sometime around eleven.”

“So, we’re relying on the witness statements,” said Briggs. “Still, should be enough of them, looks like a council estate.”

Gardener nodded. “The prostitute’s name is Nicola Stapleton. She lived on her own, and according to the woman next door, the only visitors she had were her clients. She did, however, have one regular visitor by the name of Barry Morrison. No one yet knows what the relationship between the two was, but I will come back to him shortly.

“Seems unlikely that Stapleton had any family, or if she did, she didn’t talk about them. She had a southern accent, so I think that’s worth pursuing. I know you’re already into the house-to-house inquiries. I want you to continue with that, gather what you can. Somebody on that estate will know something about her. Maybe more than one. Perhaps each one knows a little bit of something different, which might lead us to a bigger picture.”

Gardener turned, updating the board with his assignments, so Reilly took over. “Woman next door reckons a number of married men in the area have been making nocturnal visits. We have names and addresses for you to follow up. We’ll be unpopular, but if we add a bit of pressure, we might be surprised by what we find.”

Gardener continued. “A couple of things worry me. First is the number of wounds. When people tend to kill with a knife – or other bladed weapon – it’s either one fatal wound, or the killer goes mad and hacks the victim into pieces. We counted eight.”

“You think he or she was playing with her?” asked Thornton.

“Torturing for the fun of it?” added Reilly. “It’s possible. Maybe they tied her to a chair and went into some big explanation of why they were doing it. Stabbed her every time they felt like it.”

“Or maybe when she displeased them. Or answered a question wrong,” Gardener countered. “Anyway, it’s all supposition at the moment, but there’s enough to feed it into HOLMES, see if anything similar is out there. The other thing is the blue rose in her mouth.”

“That struck me, too,” said Colin Sharp. “I didn’t know you could get blue roses.”

“I didn’t,” said Gardener. “So that’s another point worth following up. Can you get blue roses? Is it something the killer had to make specifically for a reason? If so, how did they do it? What did they use? If not, where did they get it? You can see where I’m going with this.”

Gardener pointed to the syringe. “One last item, that I think may play a very important part of the investigation, was found underneath Stapleton’s body. We don’t know yet what was in it, but I’ve asked Fitz to analyse it and feed back the results.”

“Was she a diabetic?” asked Rawson.

Gardener knew Rawson was. “I don’t think so, Dave, but Fitz will tell us more.”