Zilhouette Murders, page 14
CHAPTER 29
DC’s Menton and Black were asked to meet with DI Cummings and they both made their way to his office. They assumed it was about their work on the British Gas van investigation so they brought the file with them. DI Cummings beckoned them in after they knocked on his door.
“Come in, take a seat. I want to firstly commend you on the work you have both done on this British Gas van siting. It could turn out to be a pivotal piece in the investigation. If it turns out to be so I will ensure you are both mentioned in the final report to go upstairs.” Both DC’s thanked their boss whilst shuffling in their seats a little embarrassed by the recognition.
DI Cummings continued. “As you know, the latest victim was found in the property of a woman whose husband is reported to have emigrated to Australia. I don’t want you to stop your investigation into this van thing but I also want you to look at the claim David Malcolm Peters did actually emigrate to Australia and if he did, that he hasn’t returned. I’m sure this won’t take you long to determine and I want you to report back to me direct if you discover Mr. Peters is not where his sister thinks he is or he has returned without her knowledge. OK?”
“Yes Sir.”
“I will inform DS Wicker I have spoken with you so you need not worry the about time you are spending on this but, you must report back to me on this. OK then, off you go.”
Both detectives rose from their seats and headed for the office door, to go back to their desks. DC Stuart Menton turned to his colleague. “OK Alison, I’ll get in touch with the Passport Office, could you try Australia House. We have the name of the Australian lady he supposedly married and the date they were supposed to have married.”
Alison nodded and picked up the phone whilst her partner went back to his desk some ten feet away.
DS Wicker came into the office and spoke with DC Alison Black. “What are you up to Alison? Any more information on that van siting?”
“Not so far. DI Cummings has asked me and DC Menton to make some enquiries about this David Peters who supposedly emigrated to Australia.”
“What sort of enquiries.”
“Just whether he did go to Australia; and whether he has returned.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea, OK carry on and keep me posted”
Peter Wicker walked on to his desk but bumped into DI Cummings. “Ah Peter, just to let you know I have asked DC’s Menton and Black to check on this Alan Peters, you know, the ex-husband of Josephine March and his supposed emigration to Australia. It’s just tying up loose ends.”
“I agree Sir. If he were here he would be a strong suspect, particularly after working in the meat processing plant.”
“Exactly, now come into my office a moment please, I just want to run through what we have.”
Peter Wicker followed him and sat in front of his desk.
“I’ve given more thought to this lack of CCTV evidence, particularly on the evening of Mrs. Bates disappearance. After all, she was in the town centre which is supposed to have a lot of coverage. Then there’s the road alongside the golf course where we found Paula Monarch’s body.”
“I agree Sir. There is also the footage inside the supermarket where Josephine March worked and along that road. I will get a couple of the guys onto this again.”
“What about these cold cases? Are we wasting our time on these?”
“Permission to speak freely sir.” Peter Wicker asked as he leaned forward in his chair.
“Of course Peter, what have you found?”
“Not exactly found Sir but the way these cases were investigated leaves a lot to be desired and there are so many holes in the evidence I find it hard to see why Monarch was ever charged, let alone found guilty. I know he admitted to the one charge and this appeared to be an open and closed case, as did the attempted murder and abduction but the other four are doubtful-and that’s being kind.”
“Go on Peter.”
“Monarch had a confirmed alibi for each of the four murders. In one case he was actually overseas and had at least ten witnesses but the CPS still went ahead and as we now know, the jury convicted him.”
“Disgraceful.” remarked David Cummings as he shook his head after hearing the news.
“Yes Sir, disgraceful,” agreed Peter Wicker, “but this confirms our initial observation that these murders were not committed by Monarch and that the person who did could be the same person responsible for the deaths of the victims we are currently investigating.
DI Cummings nodded in agreement.
“That’s all for now I think Peter. Keep me up to date with your findings on this but, if it isn’t leading us anywhere put it on the back burner and let’s concentrate on what we have now.”
“OK Sir.”
Peter was about to leave when there was a knock on DI Cummings door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and in walked two detectives – Menton and Black one carrying a number of papers and the other wearing a broad smile on her face.
“He didn’t go to Australia Sir! Alan Peters. He told his sister he was leaving and sent her photos and made internet calls, but he actually lives in Petersfield with a different woman and he has no children,” announced DS Menton.
DI Cummings looked at Peter Wicker and then back at the two detectives standing in front of him.
“How sure are you about these facts.”
“Double-checked Sir. There is no doubt Alan Peters is living in Petersfield and he never left the UK for Australia.”
DI Cummings slumped into his office chair and stared at his desk for a moment, deep in thought and digesting the information. He turned to Peter Wicker.
“This is either another dead end Peter or the break-through we have been searching for.”
He turned to the two detectives frozen on the spot awaiting their boss’s instructions.
“Good work again you two. Go back to your desks and create a file with all the information you have discovered. Do you have the address in Petersfield?”
“Yes Sir and we have confirmed with the Electoral Roll he is still there.”
“Right, come back with the information and the four of us will pay Mr. Peters a visit. Don’t tell any of your colleagues about this or our trip. Let’s just keep this between us for now.”
“Yes Sir.” DC Black confirmed as she and DC Menton started to leave the office and to make their way back to their desks. Both had broad grins on their face as they walked through the detectives’ area and this was noticed by a number of their colleagues who made comments, and asked some questions but, both detectives stuck to the instruction they had been given and said nothing.
Back in David Cummings’ office both he and Peter Wicker were deep in thought until Peter Wicker broke the silence.
“Can this be so simple? After all we have been doing is it just the case of one man lying to his sister and covering up the murder of his ex-wife with a lot of other murders?”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Peter. Let’s follow the evidence we have and see what Mr. Peters has to say.”
David Cummings looked at his watch. “It’s four-thirty Peter. By the time we get to Petersfield he should be home from work – if indeed he does work.”
“Maybe we should call the house, just to see who is there.”
“Good idea, use your mobile but make sure your number is withheld.”
Peter Wicker dialled the number written on the paper Alison Black gave him before she left.
“Hello.” a man’s voice was heard.
“Er, Paul Winston please.”
“No-one here by that name, you have a wrong number.”
Peter cleared the line and looked at DI Cummings.
“He’s there!”
“Right! Get DC’s Menton and Black to drive to the address and wait. You and I will go in your car – it’s less conspicuous and we will go in front leaving the other two to cover the rear exit. Clear?”
“Clear Sir. Just to confirm, no back-up?”
“I don’t think an all-out Swat team arrival is needed. I believe our killer is on a mission and is not interested in tussling with the likes of us.”
“Yes Sir.”
Both men gathered their things after Peter Wicker called one of the DC’s and told them to meet in the car park “NOW!”
CHAPTER 30
In Petersfield Alan Peters sat in his favourite chair finishing off the coffee his wife had made for him and glancing through the paper. His wife Susan was in the kitchen preparing dinner when there was a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it,” volunteered Alan Peters. He put down his coffee mug on the side table, folded his newspaper and headed for the front door. Through the opaque glass he could make out two people standing at the door. His first thought was Jehovah’s Witnesses so he took a deep breath before opening the door ready to unleash a barrage of verbal abuse.
“Look, I’ve told you before, we are not interested so just piss off!” DI Cunningham looked at Peter Wicker and cleared his throat loudly before addressing Mr. Peters.
“Sorry to bother you Sir but, my name is Detective Inspector Cunningham and this is Detective sergeant Wicker. Can we come in and have a word please?”
Alan Peters looked shocked and after examining the Warrant Cards he was shown asked. “What’s this about?”
“Can we please come inside Sir?” repeated DI Cunningham.
Alan Peters stood aside and both officers made their way into the lounge.
“Who is it Alan?” Susan’s voice could be heard from the kitchen.
“It’s OK Susan, just a couple of people with some questions.”
Susan walked into the room “Questions? - Oh, who are you?” She asked the two detectives.
“I’m Detective Inspector Cunningham and this is Detective sergeant Wicker. We are from the Serious Crime Unit based in Guildford and we have a few questions for Mr. Peters.”
“What about?” replied Susan.
“Well, do you mind if we sit down?”
“Sure, please take a seat.” Susan replied.
Peter Wicker glanced at Alan Peters who was looking decidedly pale. “Are you alright Sir?” He asked – not really caring about the reply. “Er, yes I’m fine. Now what’s this about?”
“Well Mr. Peters. We were talking with your sister recently in the course of some enquiries and she told us you had emigrated to Australia. In fact, she showed us some photos you had sent to her and evidently you contact her via the internet.”
Any remaining colour in Alan Peters face drained away and he almost fell back into a chair.
“Oh Detective, you are mistaken. Alan has never been to Australia and I don’t think he has a sister – do you darling?” said Susan Peters All eyes in the room turned on Alan who had obviously been hit by a truck and was floundering trying to answer the police and his wife who had no idea about her husbands’ past.
But more to the point, DI Cunningham now knew he had the right man, this was Josephine March’s ex-husband, the man who worked in, or who had previously worked in a meat packing plant and he and Peter Wicker noticed a van parked outside which resembled the colour scheme of British Gas vans.
“Well Mr. Peters?” DI Cunningham pressed.
“I have no idea what you are talking about. As my wife said, I have never been to Australia and I don’t have a sister. I am an only child so whoever’s giving you this information is mistaken or lying.”
“You don’t know Josephine March then Mr. Peters?” asked Peter Wicker.
“Who, no I don’t.”
“Tell me Mr. Peters, the van outside, is it yours?”
Everyone in the room looked out through the large bay window in the lounge to see the van parked against the kerb.
“Yes, that is my van. So what?”
“Mr. Peters my sergeant and I are investigating some rather nasty murders and we believe one of the victims will turn out to be Josephine March so, I ask you again, do you know Josephine March?”
“Murders?” Susan said. “Why are you here investigating murders?” Peter Wicker stood up and walked toward the front door where he took out his phone and called the station.
“Alan, my colleague is calling Guildford station for back-up which means marked police Cars outside your house. Now, I repeat, do you know Josephine March?”
Alan looked at his wife and started to cry.
“I’m so sorry Susan. I have lied to you. I should have told you.” “Told me what, Alan, you’re really scaring me. Told me what?” “I was married before to Josephine March. It was a long time ago and I had left her before we met. I thought it was better not to mention it because it was over and there weren’t kids. Honest Susan, I just thought it was easier, that’s all.”
“And your sister?”
Susan Peters had hardened her frame and her voice became more authoritative. She spoke slowly and clearly.
“I do have a sister, but we were never close. I speak to her a couple of times a year; Christmas and birthdays that’s all.”
“And Australia?”
“Oh shit, look, when I met you I told her I had met someone from Australia and I was going to marry her and move there and she thought that is what I had done.”
“You lied to your own sister? Why?”
“Because she would always be here, interfering. That’s why me and Josephine broke up. She just wouldn’t stay away. Every day she was there interfering. I just thought it best to make up this emigrating thing.
David Cunningham and Peter Wicker stayed out of the conversation. The questions they had for Alan Peter’s were being answered and his wife was definitely doing a better Jo of getting to the truth than they might have.
“Mr. Peters, we have no interest in your relationship with your sister and you have clearly lain to us here before confessing your past to your wife. Our interest lies with you telling us when was the last time you met Josephine March and your whereabouts on various dates I will put to you. We would like you to come with us to the station and answer these questions.”
“Am I under arrest?”
“No, Mr. Peters but, if you refuse to come voluntarily we may have to arrest you. So what’s it to be?”
Susan Peter walked over to her husband and looked him in the eye. “You get yourself down to that police station now. I do not believe you would do anything to harm this Josephine person; in which case you need to help these people find the person who has harmed her.” Alan Peters wiped his face with his sleeve, kissed his wife and turned to DI Cunningham. “I’m ready to help in any way I can Detective.”
“Right Sir, can I please have the keys to your van? One of my officers will take it away for examination and it will be returned to you as soon as possible.”
Alan Peters walked toward the front door and picked up a set of keys and handed them to David. “Tell your man there isn’t much fuel in it.”
Alan turned and smiled at his wife before accompanying both detectives to their car. Peter Wicker called DC Menton and asked him to come to the front of the house and bring crime scene overalls with him. When he arrived he gave him the keys to the van. “Put on the suit as inconspicuously as possible and get this to Anton Schwartz. Tell him I will call him later about the van. OK?”
“Yes.”
Susan Peters watched her husband climb into the back of a blue BMW driven by the detective and then another officer change into a white all in one and drive off with her husband’s van.
In the quiet cul-de-sac no one even noticed the events of the last hour or so unfold. No one saw a stranger drive off with their neighbours van or their neighbour climb into the back of an unknown car. DI Cunningham took the wheel and headed back toward Guildford with Peter Wicker and Alan Peters in the back. Peter Wicker was no longer pumped up with excitement after ‘capturing’ Alan Peters deciding instead to accept this might just be one of the many marital secrets kept by normal people in relationships all over the UK.
As the car turned out of the cul-de-sac Susan Peters closed the curtains and burst into tears. She wanted to call someone but didn’t know what to tell them other than her husband has been taken away for questioning by police investigating the possible murder of his ex-wife.
She paused for a moment then turned off the meal she had started and headed for Guildford police station to be by her husbands side.
Peter Wicker sat in the back of his boss’s car next to Alan Peters, who had stopped crying and was just looking out of the window at the passing scenery.
Peter’s thoughts turned to the day which had started with everyone excited after discovering Josephine March’s ex-husband wasn’t in Australia but lived locally and perhaps was the man they were seeking in connection with the murder of Ms March and others. Peter’s thoughts drifted off to think about his own marriage and how things at home were not going too well. The job, the hours away and the secrets he kept from his wife made being at home like living in a tinderbox – just one spark could ignite it and destroy their relationship.
He had told himself many times the job had to come second but he found he felt better, more appreciated and respected in the office. When he got home his wife was ready to throw question after question at him – mostly about why he hadn’t called to say he was going to be late – or even come home at all. He told himself over and over again he loved his wife and the last thing he wanted was to split. Most of his work colleagues were divorced or separated and they seemed to survive – but, could he?
His thoughts were interrupted by a tap on the window from an officer and he realised they had arrived back at Guildford. He showed the officer his Warrant Card and the barrier in front was lifted and so DI Cunningham drove through followed by DC Black.
DC Menton took the van through another entrance where the Forensic Department was located.
DI Cunningham parked the car, turned off the engine and turned to the passengers in the back. “Mr. Peters, you and I are going to calmly walk into the building and you will say nothing – understand?” Alan Peters nodded and shuffled across to the passengers’ door which DI Cunningham had opened after exiting the car. Peter Wicker walked alongside Alan Peters and all three headed for the side entrance.
