The Whitby Murders (A Yorkshire Murder Mystery) Page 22

  DC Brook had unwrapped a package and took out a square picture frame. The painting showed a bare-armed woman with long red hair. She had her arms around a man and seemed to be biting his neck.

  ‘Well, whatever turns you on, I suppose,’ said Jenkins, grinning. ‘I can think of better things for her to do to me than bite my neck.’

  ‘I’m sure you can,’ replied Andy. ‘But this looks as if it could be the one we’re looking for,’ he said, shaking his head at the idea that something like that could be worth a lot of money. They continued to search the flat for anything significant. Covered in bubble wrap and hidden in a drawer, Andy found two knives, one with a retractable blade. He put those in a plastic bag.

  ‘I think this bloke must have had a good opinion of himself, Sarge. Look at this,’ said Jenkins, who was sorting through the paintings.

  Andy went over and looked at a canvas that was covered with artistically enhanced copies of a photograph of Morton. They were in different colours and all bore a single-word title in a variety of fonts: ‘Genius’, ‘Michelangelo’, ‘Rembrandt’, ‘Great Artist’, ‘Famous’, ‘World Beater’, ‘Single-Minded’ and so on. Underneath an image in black was the phrase ‘Destined for Greatness’ and underneath one in red was the word ‘Killer’. The effect was chilling.

  ‘He has an ego, all right,’ said Andy. ‘And he seems to be telling us that he’ll stop at nothing to assert himself. We need to go through everything very thoroughly. I’ll go and talk to the other housemates.’

  He went through into the kitchen area to find three sombre-looking people gathered together, two women and one man.

  ‘What’s Ben done?’ asked one.

  ‘He’s the prime suspect in a murder case,’ replied Andy.

  ‘What! You mean that thing in Whitby? He was up there, wasn’t he?’

  ‘He was and he’s in possession of a valuable stolen painting.’

  ‘I can’t believe Ben would do anything like that,’ said one of the women. ‘He was always so quiet and gentle. He was an artist,’ she added at the end as if this precluded him having any criminal tendencies.

  ‘How much did you know about him?’ asked Andy.

  The group glanced at each other. ‘To be honest, not a lot really,’ replied one. ‘He was very private and didn’t join in much with anything that was going on. He never asked anybody into his room.’

  Not surprising, thought Andy as he noted that what they were saying correlated with how Morton had been described by his colleagues at the Imperial College. He seemed to be an example of what Andy thought of as the loner criminal syndrome: distorted and insane ideas develop in a person who has little contact with others. Nobody had realised what deadly notions were forming in the mind of this solitary artist.

  ‘Do any of you know where he is?’

  ‘No,’ said the man who’d let them into the house. ‘And James, who might have seen him earlier, has gone out. I’ve been trying to contact him.’

  ‘I’ll take his number,’ said Andy. This was frustrating. He would delay calling the boss until he had some idea of where Morton was. Presumably he wasn’t far away. They would be able to apprehend him before the day was out. That would earn him a lot of points with DCI Oldroyd.

  Back in Whitby, DC Hampton and his team met at police HQ early before setting out on their second full day of searching for Elaine Pesku. Their patient enquiries going from house to house had yielded nothing, but Hampton had an idea. Now that the news had come through that she had a violent criminal record in Romania, they were joined by two officers armed with guns. There had been some reports from people who claimed to have seen her but these had come to nothing.

  ‘She’s had to spend the nights somewhere, and I don’t think it was outside like a homeless person; far too risky. She doesn’t know Whitby well, but she will have seen all the boats and yachts down in the harbour. At this time of year most of them are sealed up for winter and covered in tarpaulin. If she managed to get inside one of those it would give her some good shelter.’ He looked at his watch. ‘It’s still early, we might catch her before she moves on but we must be careful. According to Inspector Granger, she’s probably armed.’

  The four detectives walked down to the harbour where they split up and began to carefully examine the craft there. It was a difficult task involving striding between boats tied together as they bobbed around in the water. It was early on another dull and cold day and there was nobody about. A few herring gulls sat on wooden posts and in the rigging of some of the tall yachts.

  Hampton had brought a torch and was shining it under the tarpaulin of a large yacht when he saw one of the team on another boat gesticulating at him and pointing at the tarpaulin covering the deck. Hampton gestured to the detective to return to the harbour side. The others followed, and they met together speaking quietly.

  ‘The tarpaulin’s loose on that yacht. I went underneath it and the cabin door’s been prised open. Unless there’s been a thief at work, she could be in there.’

  ‘Okay, let’s have a look at it. We’ll group around the boat and I’ll call and tell her to come out.’ They made their way back to the yacht in question and took up positions. Hampton nodded at the others and then called out in a loud voice.

  ‘Elaine Pesku. We’re here to arrest you. The boat is surrounded by armed police officers. You cannot escape. Come out now with your hands in the air.’

  The reply was the crack of a pistol firing and a bullet zinging past his head. He dived for cover into a neighbouring boat and saw that the others had done the same. Clearly she was not going to surrender without a fight. It looked like this would turn into a long siege.

  At the house in Chapel Allerton, Louise didn’t wake up until 10.00 a.m., but for once she’d slept soundly. She picked up her phone but the battery was dead. She put it on charge and made some breakfast. Her mother had left a note to say she’d gone into Leeds. That was good. There would be nobody around to ask questions when she left to meet Ben at the flat.

  Back in the office Oldroyd’s phone went again. It was Andy, whose tone was urgent.

  ‘Hello, sir. No joy here I’m afraid. We’ve been to Morton’s address, but there’s no sign of him. We did find a painting, which I think is the one that’s gone missing. There was some weird stuff here. He’s obviously some kind of vampire freak. There were a couple of knives, one fake, which I’ve secured. His housemates say he went out early this morning, but he didn’t say where he was going. One’s just called me back now to say he remembers overhearing Morton arranging to meet up with someone in Leeds today. We should alert Steph and the Leeds police. Sir?’

  ‘Right, Andy,’ Oldroyd managed to say before ending the call abruptly and frantically trying to contact Louise. There was no answer. After several failed attempts he called Steph instead. To his relief she answered straight away.

  ‘Steph, can you contact Louise immediately? It’s very urgent and there’s no answer on her phone. There’s been a big breakthrough in the case and we’re pretty sure Ben Morton is the murderer. I sent Andy round to arrest him, but he wasn’t at his flat and we have reason to think that he’s on his way to Leeds. If so, Louise could be in danger.’

  Steph had rarely heard her boss so agitated. ‘Don’t worry, sir, I’m on to it now.’

  She ended the call. Good job she’d made some preliminary arrangements.

  ‘Hi,’ said Ben, and he gave Louise a big smile. They were outside the flat in Headingley and he appeared out of the bushes at the side as if he’d been hiding in there. Ben had suggested that they meet here. He said there was something important he needed to show to her about the paintings. She’d texted to offer to give him a lift from the station but he’d refused, saying it was fine, he would make his own way there.

  ‘Hi,’ she replied. ‘Look, I’m sorry about this but something’s come up and I want to talk to you about it and I couldn’t do it on the phone.’

  ‘That’s fine. Let’s go inside, shall we?’ Ben
was looking around as he spoke, appearing anxious to get inside. Louise unlocked the door and they went into the dark hallway and up the stairs. Ben looked around cautiously as if checking that anyone else was in the building. It was quiet with no sign of activity in the other apartments.

  ‘It’s fine,’ said Louise, smiling. ‘We’re not breaking in. We’ve got the key.’

  Ben just smiled back. The apartment felt cold and a bit damp. Louise went into the sitting room and pulled back the curtains. They sat down on armchairs opposite each other.

  ‘I hate coming here,’ said Louise, looking around the room with an expression of distaste. ‘It’s a gorgeous apartment, but it’s spooky coming in without Andrea. It’s as if she’s haunting the place. It was awful when I came here with Dad.’

  ‘I’m sure it was.’ Ben smiled sympathetically. He sat with his hands in his pockets. ‘What’s all this about then?’

  Louise frowned and looked embarrassed as if she didn’t know where to begin. ‘Ben, I think you know I’ve got some feelings for you,’ she said falteringly. He didn’t reply and looked away as if he was also embarrassed. ‘I also think you might be in a bit of trouble and I want to help.’

  Ben raised his eyebrows. ‘What kind of trouble?’

  Louise looked him in the eyes. ‘Did you take that picture that was on the wall in the entrance hall?’ She pointed in the direction of the hall.

  ‘Why do you think I did that?’

  ‘Because I know you came to visit Andrea here and you would have seen it then. I think you recognised it as something valuable. I know you’re short of money and want to spend more time on your art. I’ve been thinking that you could have taken the keys from Andrea’s stuff at the flat in Whitby and come over here and taken it.’

  ‘What, in the middle of the night?’

  ‘Look, I know it’s a wild thing to accuse you of, but it’s been bugging me. Please just tell me if I’m wrong.’

  Ben looked down and sighed. After a pause, he said: ‘No, you’re right, I did take it. It’s a lost painting by Edvard Munch, and it’s worth a lot of money. I thought nobody would miss it. Have you told anyone else you think I took it?’

  Louise was relieved. ‘No, and I’m glad you’ve admitted it. Munch. Didn’t he paint that picture called “The Scream”?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She looked at him sternly. ‘I want you to return it, Ben. You know you shouldn’t have taken it. There’s a chance you’ll get caught and even if you don’t it will be on your conscience. I can understand why you did it, but just bring it back and I won’t say anything. I don’t think you’re really a thief; the temptation was just too great. Am I right?’

  Ben looked sheepish and then he smiled at her. ‘You’re right, again. I’ll bring it back as soon as I can. Will you let me in here?’

  ‘Of course. And then it’s over. No one will know.’

  ‘No, they won’t.’ He looked at her and then stood up and came close. He took in a deep breath as if he was finding it difficult to know what to say next. ‘You know you said that you had, you know, feelings for me?’ He tentatively put an arm on her shoulder. ‘I’m fond of you, too.’

  ‘Oh, Ben!’ Louise smiled up at him. As they entered an embrace, he whipped his other hand out of his pocket. It was holding a ligature which he got round her neck as he moved swiftly behind her. Louise’s eyes widened in surprise and shock and she gave out a muffled cry.

  Suddenly Steph appeared from where she’d been listening behind the door to the kitchen. She got her arm around Ben’s neck and forced him to drop the cord.

  Two more officers from the Leeds force, one female, came in from where they’d been hiding in a bedroom. The female officer went to Louise where she’d slumped to the floor, the other helped Steph to get the handcuffs on Morton and checked him for any more weapons.

  ‘Ben Morton,’ began Steph. ‘I’m arresting you for the murders of Hugh Preston, Andrea Barnes, and Dominic Holgate and for the attempted murder of Louise Oldroyd. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

  Morton remained silent. Louise screamed: ‘Ben? No! Oh my God!’ and started to cry.

  ‘Okay,’ continued Steph. ‘Let’s get him into the car. I’ll phone for help; she’s had a terrible shock. You two get him down to the station and I’ll wait here with her for the ambulance. I’ll secure the building. When you get back someone needs to arrange his transfer to Whitby.’

  ‘Okay, Sarge,’ said one of the officers as Morton was led out of the flat to the police car parked in a secluded back street. Steph checked that the keys to the flat were in her pocket as she knelt by the distraught figure of Louise on the floor.

  ‘Why, how . . . are you here?’ Louise struggled to talk.

  ‘Let’s say it was an instinct,’ replied Steph. ‘I felt you were in danger so I had a duplicate set of keys to the flat cut and we were able to get in here to monitor what was happening.’

  Louise was rubbing her neck. ‘Oh my god, I’ve been such a fool. Does Dad know what’s happened?’

  ‘Not yet. He’s still over in Whitby. He wasn’t able to do anything so I’ve dealt with it myself. I’ll be calling him soon, so don’t worry. The ambulance is coming to take you in for a check-up, but I’m sure you’ll be fine.’

  Louise nodded and put her hands up to her face. It was all too much to take in, but she was dimly aware through the awful shock, that the terrible ordeal that had begun in the escape room was now over.

  In Whitby, everyone was focused on the drama surrounding the arrest of Elaine Pesku.

  Granger and Oldroyd had come down to the harbour to witness the stand-off between the police and the desperate fugitive. An armed officer was delivering messages via a megaphone, but there was no sign that she was showing a willingness to surrender.

  ‘She’s a tough character,’ observed Oldroyd. ‘I wonder what she fears most: facing judgement here or the possibility of being deported back to Romania?’

  ‘Probably both,’ replied Granger. ‘Oh, looks like we’re going to get some action.’

  Two officers were preparing to fire tear gas into the interior of the yacht. One clung to the side of the vessel, positioned to smash a window, while another aimed the tear-gas gun. The officer with the megaphone was talking constantly to distract the target inside.

  Suddenly the officer clinging to the side of the boat smashed the window with a metal pickaxe. There was a crack, and the tear gas canister flew in through the hole. Gas billowed through the broken window.

  There was the sound of coughing from inside the cabin, and then a figure recognisable as Elaine Pesku appeared on deck before diving into the water without even trying to take a shot from her handgun. Two officers dived in after her. She made it across to the other side of the harbour, and out of the water.

  She was running down the road when the officers caught up with her and brought her down.

  ‘That was a plucky effort,’ said Oldroyd. ‘She doesn’t give in easily, but now the game’s up we’ll see what she has to say for herself.’

  On the way back he checked his phone for messages, but there was nothing yet. He tried to call, but there was no answer from either Louise or Steph.

  Oldroyd looked into the cold blue eyes and blank face of Irina Albescu, who was known in the case as Elaine Pesku. It was the tough, inscrutable face of a hardened criminal, which Oldroyd had seen many times before. There was no point trying to break her down; they had to appeal somehow to her self-interest. He was sitting with Granger in the interview room at Whitby police station. On the other side of the table were Pesku and a duty solicitor. Pesku had insisted on her rights.

  ‘Okay,’ began Oldroyd. ‘Let’s get to the main points. You’re here because you were part of the plan to murder Andrea Barnes and Dominic Holgate. You were also involved in the murder of Hugh Preston and you person
ally shot Holgate with the gun you used to fire at police officers when you were avoiding arrest at Whitby Marina. So it’s a pretty serious list of charges. Do you wish to say anything at this point?’ Oldroyd could see that Pesku was calculating her next move. She looked to her solicitor, who advised her that she didn’t need to say anything.

  However, she turned back to Oldroyd. ‘You can’t prove I shot Holgate. I wasn’t in the room where Barnes was stabbed.’

  ‘Oh, I think we can. We’ve retrieved the gun from where you dropped it into the water and I think we’ll find it’s the same one that killed Holgate, which was why we couldn’t find it near his body. And if you weren’t guilty of any of this, why were you so desperate to escape from us?’

  ‘I got scared you make me go back to Romania. I’m sorry I fired gun.’

  ‘I can understand that,’ said Granger, ‘given your criminal record over there, but we think that Hugh Preston told you about the trick sarcophagus and so he had to be got rid of. We’ve also found some hairs on the hood that the figure who was supposedly Holgate was wearing when he went crazy outside the pub on Church Street. They’re long hairs and we think they’ll match yours. You impersonated Holgate that night. You had to do it because he was already dead. You then dressed Holgate’s body, wherever you’d been storing it, in the clothing you were wearing and dumped it in the harbour.’

  ‘We’re in the process of arresting Ben Morton,’ added Oldroyd. ‘So it will be interesting to hear what he has to say about all this and your part in it.’

  Elaine frowned and looked away. Oldroyd sensed there was more calculation going on. Eventually she turned back sharply to face Granger and Oldroyd. She appeared to have made a decision.

  ‘Okay, I tell you everything. It was Ben’s idea and he forced me to take part. He said he would tell authorities about me and I would be sent back to Romania. I didn’t want to do it. I am very sorry.’

  Oldroyd smiled. Her declaration of relative innocence and her remorse were not credible, but at last they were going to get a detailed account of what happened.