Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
It’d been dark for a couple of hours by the time Nick and I made it back to the base, loaded with notes from the post-mortem and ten pizzas we’d been instructed to pick up on our way back, pre-ordered and paid for by the boss.
The office was packed, the murder board now doubled in size. More space would now be needed, because we had an identity for our second victim, her designer handbag found when the CSIs did a thorough search through the reeds after the body had been recovered.
Brooke O’Hara was the name on the expired provision driving licence.
The address was her parents’ house in Offerton, although Brooke had moved out some years ago, never bothering to take driving lessons or change the address.
I suspected it had been used as photo ID for getting served in pubs and bars when she’d been younger, that was what I’d initially used mine for.
Pizza was stuffed in hungry mouths, apart from mine, because watching Dr Miz at work had eroded any appetite I’d had. Instead, I downed a pint of water, regretting it when Wrigley drew everyone’s attention and there was no chance of getting to the bathroom before I’d need to speak.
“It’s update central, then you can go home and get some sleep.
We’re back at seven in the morning and leave is cancelled.
Headlines – we don’t know these cases are related for certain, but things are pointing that way, although we have loose ends that need cutting off sharpish.
” Wrigley gave the bullet points: we still hadn’t confirmed Neil Hunt’s alibi - he was refusing to name her despite his solicitor’s advice; the Kinsella loan sharks were deep underwater and hadn’t yet been found, our counterparts in Liverpool were still trying to locate them; the media was an arse and we needed to watch who was listening into our conversations, which he didn’t need to say, but did anyway.
“Mia, Nick – what’ve you learned at science school? ”
“Brooke O’Hara was twenty-eight, in good health, had dental implants, filler, Botox, and a boob job.
Even if we hadn’t been able to identify her from what was found in the water, we’d have done it from her surgery.
Dr Miz is pretty confident she’d been in the water for about eighteen hours, placing time of death around seven-thirty pm, Sunday evening, which puts Neil Hunt in the clear, as he was in a pub in Newcastle with his boss at that time.
Brooke was fully clothed. There was no sign of her clothing being tampered with and no signs of sexual assault.
She would’ve had her back to the killer when she was stabbed to her upper thoracic spine.
” I turned around and reached so I could point it out roughly on my own back.
Nick assisted, which made it a little easier.
“The blade entered between the third and fourth vertebrae. It penetrated the lung tissue and severed her right pulmonary artery. She was then stabbed an additional four times to the upper and mid back region on the right-hand side. She was dead before she went into the water.” I didn’t need to make the connections, they were obvious.
As were the differences.
Vinny had started to write on one of the boards we had hanging around the office, creating a grid, writing the victims’ names, then characteristics of the murders.
“Both died of a stab wound, both suggest that the perp in both cases has a decent idea of anatomy and where to strike. In both cases, enough force is used for the first strike to be fatal. That takes a lot of strength. Chelsea was five foot five; Brooke’s an inch taller.
If the site we’ve identified as the spot where Brooke went in the river, the killer could’ve been on a slight incline when they stabbed Brooke.
We know from Chelsea that her killer was likely to have been taller than her due to the angle of wounds.
” He stood back, reminding me of a teacher at school that lots of the girls, and some of the boys, had a crush on.
“Key thing for me is that our first vic was stripped naked. The second is fully clothed. We know there’s no evidence of sexual assault on either, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t the motivation.
Another thing that’s bothering me is Brooke’s sideline – she was a social media influencer and clearly doing okay on it; she had a lot of followers and her posts got a lot of comments and likes.
There were also a lot of trolls, including some from our current favourite brand of scum, incels.
Could we have two separate perps who have done this as a joint project?
” He tapped the board, satisfied with his scribblings.
“We’re assuming a lot there, including the perp or perps are male.
I get the incel theory for Brooke – she’s what an incel would term a Stacey.
Her online presence could easily have made her a target.
But how does that work for Chelsea? What else do they have in common?
” I could see where Vinny was coming from, and we needed to have working theories to prove or disprove to forward the case.
Sometimes clutching at those straws left a golden thread between our fingers and that was all it took.
I was seven years in with the police, a DS at thirty, although it’d only been a couple of months since I’d got the promotion.
Nick had been a DS for seven years, Vinny three.
Vin was five years older than me, although sometimes acted like my younger brother.
Nick was nearly forty. We worked well together, which was why Wrigley had made sure we stayed together, when really, he should’ve spread us apart.
“What if it’s more about what the perps have in common rather than the victims.” Nick shifted, sitting on Verity’s desk.
“We know statistically, it’s more likely for a victim to know their killer than not.
The locations for the murders suggest these were well-thought-out places; out of sight and lonely, but not too far to get back on a main road.
Dr Miz said the weapon used on Brooke may be the same as on Chelsea, but she’s going to need longer to look at that. ”
“Two perps could’ve shared a weapon, trying to make us look at a sole offender.” Vinny folded his arms. “Boss? What are your thoughts?”
Wrigley had been quiet, watching us carefully.
“I think both are possibilities, along with lines of enquiry we haven’t thought of yet.
We’re not going to get a ton from forensics – Jenna has a clear size ten footprint on the path where we think Brooke might’ve entered the river.
There’s also blood splattering on vegetation on the way down, so it looks like Vinny was spot on. ” He gave Vin a brief nod.
Vinny managed to look modest rather than smug. He wasn’t quite as big an arse as he had been a couple of years ago, I’d give him that.
“Both murders have happened in weather that’s suited erasing forensic evidence,” Wrigley said as he added a note to Vinny’s board.
“I don’t think we have an opportunistic killer or killers.
It feels too planned, too practiced. We should be getting the phone records through for Brooke and Chelsea by the morning, so we can see if there have been any numbers in common.
Nick, are the tech team going through internet search histories?
” He looked over at Nick, who once again, was eating. “Are you not being fed at home, lad?”
Nick was trying to swallow too much dry pastry in one go, devouring what looked like something from Greggs, probably foraged around lunch time. “Sorry, sir. If I’m lucky, when I get home, the baby will be asleep, and I don’t want to dare wake him by cooking.”
“If you get home. I’ve known someone die from a steak bake before. Choked on it. Horrible way to go.” Wrigley’s tone was dead pan.
“I’d get a decent sleep though. Anyway,” he brushed pastry off from round his mouth.
“The tech team has been collating websites visited by Chelsea from her iPad – still no phone and her iPad doesn’t have much on it.
We do have an approximate location of where her phone was last used from cell site location, so CSI are heading there in the morning to see if they can find it – if it’s been discarded.
We’ve got Brooke’s computer from home already, and we’re in it, so we’ll have data to run through, and we can get into her social networks and look to see if there were any persistent trolls.
I was thinking, Sir,” he glanced at the rest of the pasty he had in his hand, “if it might be worth getting someone over from counterterrorism for a couple of days. We’re pretty up to speed about patterns and certain known groups on the dark web, but it’s morphing daily and if Vinny’s incel theory’s right then they may have intel that we’re not privy to. ”
“You thinking of anyone in particular?” Wrigley watched Nick with a degree of interest.
“Lance Cook. He’s just come off a big case and was about to take leave. His girlfriend dumped him on Friday so he’s cancelled his time off and he could do with a distraction. He’s who I usually go to if I can’t get into something.” Nick tore a piece of the pastry off rather violently.
Wrigley nodded, shook his head, probably at Nick’s eating habits.
“I know his manager. I’ll put a call in.
” He stood up at little taller. “We have a press conference tomorrow at seven-thirty and I need my beauty sleep, plus if I’m any later, Pam’s going to use my body in a curry.
Get yourselves home and rest up. Here before seven tomorrow and let’s hope we don’t have any more corpses in bodies of water. ”
Class dismissed.
Most of us started to meander out. Vinny stayed at his desk, logging back in.
“You looking for brownie points from the boss?” It was always worth niggling him.
“I don’t need brownie points, Mia Mac. The boss knows I’m the best on his team.” He gave me a wink which told me he had no intention of being serious. “Want to talk psychobabble at me for ten minutes?”
“I love it when you call it that.” I sat down on a chair and wheeled it closer to his computer. “But I gave you enough therapy on the way to Liverpool yesterday.”
“Man like me, I don’t need therapy.” He grinned again, because he knew I was well aware he’d had grief counselling after his dad had died a couple of years ago. “Have Mrs Kinsella’s boys turned up?”
“Not so far, but I doubt they’re high on the priority list. There’s no link to Brooke that we’ve found yet. Nothing’s come up that she was in debt, in fact, she was doing well for herself because of the paid partnerships.” This was one line I thought we should drop.
Vinny leaned back on his chair, clicking his mouse. I watched the screen as it loaded one of Brooke’s social media pages.
He clicked on one of her most recent posts. “Look at this comment.” He scrolled down and then paused.
You fucking bitch thinking your so high and mitey. I’m coming for you.
“Who posted it?”
“Someone with the username BigKinTwo. I might be clutching at straws, but could that be the younger Kinsella brother? We know they’re both six foot four, so the big would tie in. The ‘Kin’ is Kinsella, the ‘two’ is - ”
“Too obvious. This murderer isn’t someone who’s just lost the plot after having a paddy, Vin.
This is somebody or somebodies who are organised, know something about policing.
I reckon when we find them, we’ll find they have an interest in true crime but from the perspective of the police – they’ll have looked at cases where the police have missed clues or made cockups.
If Chelsea and Brooke have been deliberately targeted, there’s no way our killer would’ve set his username to be so obvious and leave a comment like that – unless he was trying to throw us off. ”
“Fair point.”
“Vinny, what’s your username on things like this?” I did have social media, mainly for information purposes, but it was under an entirely different name, and I wasn’t friends with any of my actual friends.
He looked at me sheepishly. “HeaVinSent.”
I made him write it down. “You know what, you’re a muppet. I don’t know how you actually stay alive.”
“But the ladies love me.” He logged out and stood up, sending his chair flying.
“Apart from Dr Miz.” Who I’d spent two hours with.
Vinny grabbed his jacket. “Did she say anything about me?”
“For fuck’s sake, you sound like Lachy mooning over that girl two weeks ago. Yes, she said a lot about you.”
“Come to the pub and tell me, and I’ll buy you a burger. Extra cheese.” He patted his oversized hand on my shoulder.
I had nothing better to do, and nothing in the fridge. “Deal.”
“Excellent. Is she still going on about the small sample jar?”