Imperfection (DI Gardener 2)

“Val White gave us the names of the committee members. If my memory’s right, there was a bloke called Jack Harper. If there’s a connection, it doesn’t blow your theory entirely.”

Gardener glanced at the floor. “If that’s the case, we definitely need to find Harry Fletcher now.”

“What about him out there, Cuthbertson?” said Reilly. “Do you reckon he’s capable of murder?”

“Could be,” said Brig

gs.

“I’m not so sure,” replied Fitz. “His shock looks pretty genuine to me. I realise you can’t rule him out, but he’s a bloody good actor if it is him.”

“Isn’t that what we’re looking for, an actor?” said Gardener. “Someone with the ability to disguise himself, someone who has the means?”

“What’s his motive?” asked Briggs.

“Let’s find out.” Gardener walked over to the front door. He spoke to the constable. “Clean him up and take him back to the station for questioning.” He turned back and addressed Fitz. “Meanwhile, can you sort out the post-mortem as soon as possible? I’m particularly interested in the fact that there’s no blood spatter, but there are indications of a struggle in the back room. He must have killed her in the shop. Question is, what’s he used in order to stop her heartbeat? You know as well as I do if he’d done that while she was still alive, this place would be one God awful mess.”

Fitz nodded. “Okay, we’ll remove the body and let the SOCOs do their job.”

Gardener shouted for Steve Fenton. “You know the drill. Sweep for prints. I’d like another ESLA. Be careful with the ropes. The knots look different to the last one.”

He turned to Briggs. “I’ll have to speak to the team. We’ll need to find out where she lives, and speak to her parents.”

“And anyone else that’s close, if they haven’t already been on the phone to report her missing,” Briggs replied.

“I assume she’s not married, there’s no wedding band, nor a line to suggest there was one,” said Gardener. “We need a written report of his information next door. And all the CCTV evidence we can lay our hands on.”

“What a mess,” said Briggs. “The shit’s going to hit the fan with this one.”

“Can you put a call into the FSS?”

Briggs nodded. “How the hell does he manage to do all this without someone seeing him?”

“He doesn’t,” said Gardener.

“Come again?” said Briggs.

“Plenty of people see him. He isn’t worried about people seeing him because nobody knows what he really looks like. Take a look at that crowd out there.” Gardener pointed through the window. “He could be in that lot, somewhere. The front row, maybe. We’d have no idea, because we don’t know him. He knows that – he’s playing on it. He can commit atrocities like this every day. He knows we’re never going to catch him.”

Gardener wanted out. He’d been here long enough. The smell had coated the insides of his nostrils.

“There’s something else, boss,” said Reilly. “If Jack Harper’s dead and this was his daughter, that means your father is on the list as well.”

“I know. I’ve thought of that already.”

Another young constable appeared in the shop doorway. He waved to Gardener, but kept his eyes on the floor. “What is it?”

“The press, sir, they’d like a comment.”

“I’m sure they would. I suppose we’d better tell them something. If we don’t, they’ll only make it up.”

Gardener walked out of the shop, stripped off his paper suit and deposited it in a bin. Briggs and Reilly followed. He spotted a team of Operational Support Officers heading in his direction.

“I’d like you lot to split up and question every shopkeeper in the arcade. Find out what they know about Alan Cuthbertson and Janine Harper and the customers who come in here on a regular basis. I’d also like a couple of you out front on the streets today, question everyone you see. Find out if they were in the town last night. Did they see anyone they considered eccentric?”

He turned to Briggs. Despite his loathing of the press, he knew he would have to use them.

“I think we’d better ask the press to appeal for witnesses.”