Unholy Murder

Chapter Twenty-nine

The magistrate asked a few questions about the investigation, signed the warrant and Jane returned to the incident room shortly after the six o’clock news broadcast about Becky Rogers’ disappearance.

Once again the detectives were busy on the phones, gathering information from members of the public who had called in. Jane noticed Lloyd Johnson putting up some photographs of the foxglove seeds and silver birch slivers on the wall.

‘How’s it going?’ she asked him.

‘I was at the convent earlier with the fire investigator,’ he said. ‘You were right about it being arson. It’s bloody amazing what they can tell from burnt-out buildings, even years later. He could tell from the burn damage where it started and how it tracked from one building to the next.’

‘So where and how did it start?’ Jane asked.

‘In the bakery. The fire investigator examined a rusty old paraffin heater which was still in there. The screwcap on the oil container was missing and there were three separate seats of fire in the bakery. He reckons whoever committed the arson poured the oil out in three locations then set light to each one individually.’

‘Thanks, Lloyd. It’s good to know I got something right.’

‘You seem a bit down... something up?’

‘Stanley’s pissed off with me.’

‘What have you done now?’ Lloyd asked.

Jane sighed. ‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.’

Jane knocked on Stanley’s door and went in.

‘Any sightings of Becky?’ she asked apprehensively and showed him the search warrant.

Stanley nodded. ‘It looks like she went to the convent on Tuesday afternoon. An elderly couple who live in one of the flats phoned in. They were on their way out at a quarter past two when they saw a young woman getting out of a red Citroën 2CV near the main entrance. The description matches Becky and the clothing fits with what her colleagues say she wore to work on Tuesday.’

‘Did they see her again?’

‘No, but her car was still there when they returned home at six o’clock. They said it wasn’t there the following morning. This is not looking good. I’ve called in the Special Patrol Group and dog section to help with the search. I’m going to speak with PC Rogers, let him know what’s happening. I understand that you’re in an awkward position. If you don’t want to be part of the search and arrest team then—’

‘No, I want to do it,’ she said firmly. ‘You were right. I should have interviewed Thomas Durham as soon as I suspected he was lying. If I had, then maybe right now Becky Rogers would be sitting in the comfort of her home writing her investigative journal.’

‘You can’t change what’s happened, Jane, but you can make a difference to how it ends.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Jane said.

‘We’ve all made mistakes on this investigation,’ Stanley said, ‘me and Tony Barnes included. The reality is, it’s you and Boon who have uncovered the vital evidence. You should both be proud of that.’

‘Is Boon coming on the search?’

Stanley nodded. ‘I spoke with him while you were out. I told him we think Becky went to Thomas Durham’s house and you were getting a search warrant. He was pretty cut up, but he’s still hoping we might find her alive and being held against her will.’

‘If we find her body there it might be too much for him,’ Jane said.

‘If Boony wants to go I’m not going to stand in his way. Finding out what’s happened to Becky might even be cathartic for him.’

Stanley opened his briefcase and took out a clear plastic property bag. He removed a rag doll and handed it to Jane. The doll had button eyes, smiling red felt lips and yellow yarn hair. It was dressed in a pink floral dress, red apron and red shoes.

‘This was on Becky’s bed. Her flatmate said her mother made it for her fifth birthday. I took it in case we needed a scent for the police dogs during a search,’ he said with a grim look.

Jane recalled the rag doll her parents had bought her when she was a toddler. She felt close to tears thinking of Becky hugging the doll and talking to it when she felt downhearted. Jane held the doll close to her chest and whispered, ‘I’m sorry, Becky.’

By seven there were thirty uniformed officers, two dog handlers, twelve detectives and a van full of search equipment on their way to the old convent in a convoy of vehicles, with Jane and Boon in the lead. Prior to leaving the station, Stanley and Jane briefed everyone regarding the exterior search parameters and inquiries to be made with all the residents. Stanley decided that if Becky’s body was discovered in the old chapel, the search of the woods, land and lake could stop, and be continued in daylight if necessary.

Arriving at the convent, Jane was relieved that neither of Nick’s cars was there. She sent two officers round to the rear of the chapel, even though she doubted Thomas Durham would try and escape out of the back. Boon pressed the intercom for Flat 10, the residence of the couple who had seen the red Citroën 2CV and a young woman matching Becky’s description.

The woman pressed the door release to let them in. Jane, Boon, Stanley, two detectives and a dog handler went into the chapel. Jane knocked on Thomas Durham’s door while the others stood to the side.

‘Hello, Jane. Come in. Is Nick with you?’ Durham asked when he saw her.

‘This is not a social visit, Mr Durham,’ Jane said.

He noticed the other officers. ‘I can see that. What on earth is going on?’

‘We are investigating the disappearance of Becky Rogers,’ she said.

‘Who is Becky Rogers?’ Durham asked.

‘If you’d like to let us in, I’ll explain further,’ Jane said.

Durham frowned. ‘No. You can speak on my doorstep.’

‘I have a warrant to search your property. If needs be, I can force entry,’ Jane said firmly.

He opened the door, and they all went through to the living room. Boon switched the TV off and Durham picked up a cup of coffee from the table.

‘So, what’s this all about?’ he asked, taking a sip.

Jane handed Durham a copy of the warrant. ‘Becky Rogers is a reporter for the Bromley News Shopper. She wrote the article about the discovery of the coffin and the murdered nun—’

He interrupted gruffly. ‘I read the article, but I never looked at who wrote it.’

‘We have reason to believe Becky came here to interview you yesterday,’ Jane continued.

‘Your information is wrong,’ Durham said huffily. ‘I have never met or spoken to the woman... nor would I ever want to.’

His dismissive manner was getting to Boon. ‘A woman matching her description and driving the same make and colour of car was seen outside these premises...’ he began.

‘Then she must have come here to interview someone else!’ Durham interrupted. ‘This is bloody ridiculous. I’m phoning my solicitor.’

‘I can’t allow you to make any calls until we have finished our search,’ Jane told him.

Durham gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Then bloody well get on with it!’

Jane asked Boon and the two detectives to search the upstairs bedrooms, while she, Lloyd and the dog handler dealt with the downstairs and crypt.

‘Where’s Bella?’ Jane asked.

‘In her bed in the kitchen. The door is closed, so you don’t need to worry about her disturbing you,’ Durham replied indignantly.

The dog handler opened the bag containing Becky’s rag doll, removed it, and let his German Shepherd have a good sniff.

‘Track, Rumpole, track,’ the handler said, letting the dog off the lead.

‘Rumpole?’ Lloyd remarked.

‘You know, Rumpole of the Bailey,’ the handler said.

Durham snorted. ‘You’re wasting your time and mine.’

Rumpole scurried round the living room sniffing around the furniture with his tail wagging. He suddenly stopped and sniffed in one area, then with his head down and nose to the ground walked towards the entrance door.

‘He’s on to something. Good boy, Rumpole, good boy,’ the handler said.

Rumpole sniffed by the door, spun around, and moved his head from side to side as he padded towards the stairwell to the crypt.

The handler looked pleased. ‘He’s picked up her scent.’

‘How can you tell?’ Lloyd asked.

‘By the way he moves and keeps his nose to the ground.’

Rumpole stopped at the top of the stairwell, took a few sniffs, and started going down the stairs, sniffing each one as he went.

‘Be careful on your way down, the stonework is slippery,’ Jane told the dog handler. She turned to Lloyd. ‘Can you stay with Mr Durham, please?’

‘Don’t worry yourself, I assure you I won’t try and escape,’ Thomas said scornfully.

At the bottom of the stairs Rumpole stopped, had another good sniff, then started to sneeze and whine.

The handler pulled Rumpole away. ‘That’s how he reacts to cleaning agents like bleach.’

Jane took a few sniffs but couldn’t smell anything. The handler got down on his knees and sniffed the floor.

‘There’s a very faint smell of bleach if you get close enough,’ he said.

‘Could you please come downstairs, Mr Durham,’ Jane shouted up.

‘She was drinking my best ’61 Médoc a few days ago. Now look how she repays me,’ he muttered.

‘DS Tennison is just doing her job,’ Lloyd said.

‘She did a good job on my son, that’s for sure,’ Thomas retorted, starting down the stairs.

‘Rumpole’s not reacted anywhere else down here. The trail ends at the bottom of the stairs,’ the handler said, putting him on the lead.

‘How sure can you be it was Becky he was following?’ Jane asked.

‘Obviously I can’t say one hundred per cent it’s her. But I know my dog and he’s never let me down. Something happened down here that necessitated the use of bleach. I’m going to see how he tracks from the hallway to the outside. I’ll also check the bin areas.’

Boon followed Lloyd and Thomas down to the crypt.

‘Nothing upstairs so far, sarge,’ he said.

‘Well, there’s a surprise,’ Durham scoffed.

‘The dog has tracked Becky Rogers’ scent down into the crypt. It ends at the bottom of the stairs,’ Jane told Durham.

‘Did Rumpole tell you that?’ he mocked.

‘He also reacted in a manner that suggests a cleaning agent was used just there.’ Jane pointed to the spot.

‘This is bloody ridiculous. I have a cleaner who comes here twice a week. She uses bleach to clean the stone floors.’

‘What, even in the crypt?’ Boon asked.

‘She’s very fastidious. Speak to her if you don’t believe me,’ Durham replied.

While Lloyd examined the stairs and hand rope, Jane went to look in the wine cellar area. She immediately noticed the wall blocking the tunnel had been repaired with some new bricks in the middle. Jane recalled Nick telling his father the wall needed fixing.

‘I see you’ve had the wall repaired,’ Jane remarked.

Thomas laughed out loud. ‘Please don’t tell me you think a body might be behind the wall.’

‘Boony, nip out to the equipment van and see if they have any sledgehammers and pickaxes,’ Jane said.

Thomas’s eyes bulged and his face turned red with anger. ‘That’s it! I’ve had enough of this nonsense! I’m not having you destroying my house! I’m calling my solicitor now!’ He stomped off towards the stairs.

‘Come back here now, please, Mr Durham,’ Boon shouted.

He went after Durham and grabbed him by the shoulder. Durham spun round and punched Boon hard in the face, knocking him to the ground. Boon winced in pain as he landed hard on his coccyx.

Durham realised what he’d done. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I wasn’t thinking straight.’ He put his hand out to help Boon up.

‘You fuckin’ arsehole!’ Boon exclaimed, knocking Durham’s hand away.

Durham stood upright, his face turning blue as he struggled to breathe.

‘Oh God, please help me,’ he pleaded, clutching his chest as his face contorted with pain.

Boon was struggling to get up. He could only watch as Durham staggered backwards, fighting to breathe. As Thomas fell, Lloyd managed to catch him and lay him gently on the floor.

‘He’s having a heart attack. Keep an eye on him, Jane, and I’ll call an ambulance,’ Lloyd said.

She shook her head. ‘That’ll take too long. Get some of the uniformed officers to take him to the hospital in the police van.’

As Lloyd ran up the stairs, Durham’s breathing was getting shallower, and his eyes began to close.

Boon knelt beside him. ‘Where’s Becky?’

‘He’s unconscious. We need to try and resuscitate him,’ Jane said, pinching Durham’s nose and putting her mouth over his.

It wasn’t long before some uniformed officers arrived with a large riot shield which they used as a makeshift stretcher to take Durham to the hospital. Jane instructed one of them to remain at the hospital with Durham as he was a suspect for abduction and murder. She gave another officer Nick Durham’s home phone number and asked him to get the duty sergeant to tell him about his father’s heart attack.

Jane used Durham’s phone to call Stanley and told him what had happened.

‘Bloody hell. How bad is he?’ Stanley asked.

‘Not good. But Boon and I resuscitated him. And he was breathing with a slow pulse when the uniformed officers took him away. I’ve asked that the duty sergeant contact Nick Durham.’

‘So it looks like Becky was in Durham’s house, then,’ Stanley said.

‘It looks like he killed her in the crypt,’ Jane said. ‘Her body might be in the old tunnel, so I’m going to knock the wall down.’

‘Do it,’ Stanley said.

‘And if she isn’t, I’m going to keep searching,’ Jane replied.

‘Don’t exhaust yourself. Take a rest if you need one. Salmon wants a briefing with the team tomorrow morning at nine.’

‘Did you tell him about the search warrant?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes, he was pissed off that I didn’t ask him first. I reminded him that he buggered off to the Yard and left me in charge.’

‘Are you going to update him?’

‘No. He’s spent most of his career behind a desk in planning and development. He scurries off when you confront him with a difficult situation because he doesn’t know what to do.’

‘Let’s hope he stays that way,’ Jane remarked.

‘I’d best let you get on. I’m not going anywhere, so keep me updated.’

As Jane put the phone down, Lloyd approached her.

‘I examined the stairwell rope. There are traces of blood going up it on the underside. Someone with a bloody hand used it to support themselves as they climbed the stairs. It’s possible Durham carried Becky’s body upstairs and put it in a car to bury her elsewhere.’

‘I’m still going to knock that wall down. You any good with a sledgehammer?’

‘I always hit the high striker bell at the funfair,’ Lloyd grinned.

It didn’t take long to knock a hole in the wall and search the tunnel, but there was no sign of Becky.

‘DS Tennison... I’ve found something of interest in one of the wheelie bins,’ the dog handler shouted from the top of the stairs.

Jane and Lloyd followed him to a dimly lit wooden hut at the far end of the parking area. Inside were four large metal wheelie bins, one of which was on its side with the contents strewn across the floor. To one side, placed neatly on police exhibits bags was a bleach bottle.

‘I found that bleach bottle in the bin. It looks like it might have a blood smear on it. One of the residents told me the bins are emptied every Tuesday morning at around ten.’

‘Which means the bottle could only have been put in the bin on Tuesday after ten or today,’ Lloyd remarked as he put on protective gloves and placed the bottle in an exhibits bag.

‘The uniformed lads helped me search the other bins. There were no blood-stained items in them,’ the dog handler said.

‘He probably burned any towels or cloths he used to clean up... or dumped them with Becky’s body,’ Lloyd said.

‘How quickly can you test that bleach bottle for fingerprints?’ Jane asked Lloyd.

‘Is there any rush with Durham being in hospital?’ Lloyd asked.

‘If a doctor says he’s fit to be interviewed, I’ll do it by his bedside. I want as much evidence against him as possible.’

‘I’ll take the bottle back to the lab and get to work on it first thing in the morning. Has Thomas Durham ever been arrested?’

‘Not as far as I know — unfortunately,’ Jane replied.

‘No problem. I can use the coffee mug he drank out of earlier for comparison to any marks on the bleach bottle. I’ll also take lifts off other items likely to have his prints on them.’

‘If Becky was murdered here, Durham must have disposed of her car as well. It’s possible he put her body in the boot and used the car to transport it. If that was the case, he’d need to hide the car, which isn’t easy,’ Jane said.

‘He could have set light to it with her body inside,’ Lloyd suggested.

‘Possibly, but I’d have thought someone would have seen the fire or found it burnt out by now. It’s also a big risk to drive a car a long distance with a body in the boot. Do you know if the underwater search unit work at night?’ she asked.

‘They come out at any time if it’s an emergency. Why do you ask?’

‘There is a small lake down by the woods. He might have weighted Becky down and dumped her body in it, then hidden the car elsewhere,’ Jane said.

Jane rang Stanley while Lloyd took some fingerprint lifts from the coffee cup and other items in Thomas Durham’s house. Jane asked Stanley for permission to call out the underwater search unit. He said he would call them and come down to the scene.

As they waited for the underwater search unit, Jane and other officers went down to the lake with seek-and-search torches. One of the officers found some narrow tyre marks leading from the building-site track to the edge of the lake and down into the water. Jane was certain the marks were from Becky’s car and her body would be in it.

When the underwater search unit arrived they set up four big arc lamps powered by a petrol generator, which lit up the surrounding area, creating an eerie glow on the surface of the still water. Two divers went into the lake with submersible torches. A few minutes later, one of them surfaced and did a thumbs-up. The underwater unit had a cable winch attached to their large truck, which one of the divers attached to the submerged vehicle.

Everyone watched in silence as the red Citroën 2CV was slowly pulled out of the lake and water cascaded out of the vehicle. As Jane moved forward, an officer turned one of the arc lamps towards the boot, casting an ominous shadow of Jane’s body over the car. Jane’s hand trembled as she placed it on the boot lever. She knew she was about to find Becky’s body but dreaded the moment. As Jane lifted the boot lid, she saw a black canvas suitcase wedged inside. She asked the search officers to remove it. It took two of them to lift it out, then place it on the ground. Jane unzipped it. Becky’s body was curled up in a foetal position with a blood-stained towel tucked into one corner of the case. Fighting back the tears, Jane stepped to one side to allow Lloyd to take some photographs. She walked over to Stanley and Boon.

‘Durham must have put her body in the suitcase to get her out to the car,’ Jane said.

‘DS Johnson can bag the body and arrange for it to be taken to the mortuary,’ Stanley said. ‘We’ll do the post-mortem first thing tomorrow morning. You two go home and get some rest. I’ll go and tell PC Rogers and his wife we found Becky,’ he added in a sombre tone.

Walking to the car, Jane could see Boon was struggling to hold himself together. She had dealt with grieving parents, friends, and relatives too many times to remember, but at this moment she couldn’t think what to say to him.