The Sholes Key (An Evans & Blackwell Mystery #1) Read online

  “Why do you hide your car keys under the dresser?” he asked.

  “Because some people—who will remain nameless—cannot know about this vehicle. Now tell me again why you assume the Lorna McCauley and Margaret Hill cases are connected.”

  “The code.”

  “He’s left the code at the crime scene?” From a jewelry box, she pulled out a set of glasses, dark and square, and put them on. Next she donned a brimmed hat and a multi-colored knitted scarf. She looked different—sophisticated. Dangerous.

  “Apparently.” Theo ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know if you want to go to a gory crime scene. Have you seen a dead body before?”

  Sophia didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Yes.” She bit her nails. “How gory? Well, it doesn’t really matter does it? I have to see what he’s done. It’s about me, and I don’t like it. What the hell have I done to make him hate me so?”

  “Who?”

  “Whoever. Ready? Are you going to take your car or would you like to go with me?”

  Theo pondered the question but decided it was best to take his own. He accompanied her down the lift and told her he’d meet her at the entrance to the underground car park. She followed him in a red Fiat 500.

  So the killer had left the body at Sophia’s old residence off Castlebar Hill in Ealing. What Theo hoped would be a short chance encounter with this woman was turning into an overpowering liaison, threatening to suffocate him. When he arrived at the crime scene, he locked his car and shuffled toward the spacious white abode looming before him. The light from the square, framed windows shone brightly like many beacons.

  Sophia, who clumsily parked behind him in front of a gated drive, ran up and took his arm. “This is creepy. Why would someone want to leave a body here?”

  “That’s a great question,” Theo replied.

  The large overhanging trees blocked the moonlight, but the lights from the police vehicles had attracted many onlookers. Reporters had gathered and took photos of every person entering the gates. Sophia pulled her brimmed hat over her eyes and used Theo as a shield.

  “Look at all these people,” Theo said. “There must be a hundred here. What the hell is our killer playing at? Why give us a body now?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, pulling him closer.

  “Look what the killer is doing.” Theo faced Sophia as he carefully examined each person in the crowd. He knew there was a strong probability the killer was watching, but he didn’t want to appear to be searching. “He abducts Lorna and now Margaret Hill, and we suspect nothing. We’re naive. Then in the last few days, what does he do? He abducts a woman, sends out a letter proving it is murder, gives police cause to suspect that the others may be related, and now leaves the body to be found.” Though Theo studied the men standing around gawking in the night, no one stood out. As he headed toward the house, he instructed the crime scene photographers to surreptitiously photograph the crowds.

  “What does he hope to accomplish with this publicity stunt?” he asked Sophia. “Is it fame he wants?”

  “This really isn’t my field of expertise. My best guess is publicity or recognition. I will have a good look at the code though.”

  He nodded. “I can’t believe you used to live here.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well…”

  Sophia wasn’t listening. She was distracted as they approached, and the grip on his arm got tighter. Detectives and crime scene officers stomped in and out of the house carrying bags, boxes, and cameras.

  Dorland met them outside the front door.

  “Is the body still here?” Theo asked. “Is everyone here?”

  Dorland nodded and cocked his head in the direction of the murder victim.

  With a quick glance up and down, Sophia asked Dorland, “Are you any good?”

  “Good at what?”

  “Your job.”

  “Of course, I’m good.” Dorland threw up his hands at Theo who just shrugged. “I’ll have you know, I’m one of the strongest officers on the force.”

  Theo wasn’t sure Sophia heard as she pushed past.

  “You can’t just go in there,” Theo said and pulled her back. “You need to dress.” He pointed to everyone wearing protective clothing. “You’ll contaminate the crime scene if you’re not careful. You do want to catch the bastard, don’t you?”

  She followed him to a vehicle nearby and grabbed a blue suit and foot protection. Quickly, she exchanged her hat for a head covering and plastic glasses. Once again Sophia had transformed into a different woman, a woman who looked like she could get away with murder. She gave Theo a wink and asked, “Shall we go?”

  He led her into the house.

  “Here’s what I found out,” Dorland said then paused, looking at Sophia and back to Theo.

  “It’s all right,” Theo said. “You can speak in front of her.”

  That appeased Dorland. “The house was empty. Used to belong to some doctor. It’s been on the market only a few weeks.”

  “Yes,” said Sophia. “My father said he planned to put the house up for sale. I didn’t want any part of it. When he asked me to sell the house, I refused.”

  “What?” asked Dorland. “What are you on about?”

  “I’ll explain later,” replied Theo. “Go on, Dorland.”

  “The estate agent, wanting to confirm the house would be ready for viewing, entered and found… well, let’s just say there’ll be images in his head that he may never be able to erase.”

  “How do we know Margaret Hill wasn’t just a woman interested in the house? This may be a case of wrong place, wrong time. She may have been murdered here.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why?” asked Sophia and Theo simultaneously.

  “One of the first officers on the scene recognized her face from a missing person’s file,” Dorland replied and led them inside. “She’s been missing for a while.”

  A grand staircase greeted them as they entered. The rooms on either side were empty. Only one thing would cause a person to suspect any activity in the house—the line of red rose petals up the stairs.

  “How did the killer enter the house?” Theo asked.

  “That hasn’t been confirmed yet,” Dorland replied. “The front door shows no sign of forced entry. SOCO is checking the rest of the house. He may have entered through a window or back door.”

  “What do you think the petals mean?” Sophia said, following Theo up the stairs.

  “That’s what Shields’s team was debating upstairs when I came out to get you,” Dorland replied.

  “A romantic gesture?” she suggested.

  Dorland laughed shortly. “You won’t think that when you see the body. It seems more like a runway, the red carpet, leading to his masterpiece.”

  “Perhaps it’s best if you speculate less and show me,” Theo said.

  “One time, about ten years back,” Dorland said, “a girl—Doreen—had me for dinner.” He paused. “A romantic dinner she called it. The door to her house was ajar, so I entered and called out to her. No answer. That was when I saw the rose petals. I followed them up the stairs, down the hall to double doors at the end, undressing as I went. I couldn’t wait to open the door, I thought I knew what to expect on the other side. It was not what I expected at all. I’ll never forget the look on Doreen’s parents’ faces as they lay naked on their bed. I never spoke to Doreen again.” He sighed. “For that matter, I’m surprised her parents didn’t ring the police.”

  Halfway up the stairs sat two tall wine glasses. They were empty, and SOCO carefully placed them in separate bags to avoid smudging possible fingerprints.

  “The staircase,” Theo said, “the rose petals, and the wine. What is he trying to say here? Was he saying: I’m a romantic person, I’m everything you wanted but you rejected me, so now I’m going to kill you?”

  “I used to play on these stairs,” Sophia said quietly.

  “Sounds sociopathic t
o me,” Dorland said. “It sort of looks like the work of a serial killer. I thought it might be a serial killer, didn’t I?”

  Theo groaned.

  “I thought it might be a serial killer,” Dorland repeated to Sophia. “If he’s a serial killer, he would be very organized. They usually plan everything, there’s a meaning behind everything.”

  At the top of the stairs was one folding metal chair, and on that chair sat a very ashen-faced man. This must be the estate agent, Theo thought. The man had his eyes closed as if in prayer. He held a cup full of steaming black liquid. He didn’t drink it, just held it.

  “Hello, I’m Detective Inspector Blackwell.”

  The man’s only response was to open his eyes.

  Theo was about to ask more questions when a large man exited the room to his right. “Shields,” Theo asked, “why is the estate agent covered in blood? What did he do, hug the victim?”

  “Blackwell, why are you here? This is my case.” Detective Inspector Shields pulled the hood off his bald head and shook it back and forth. “Don’t you have a case—the McCauley woman?”

  “Deveau wanted me to have a look at the crime scene and the body.”

  “Why?”

  “He suspects our cases are connected.”

  “What?”

  Theo shrugged.

  “All right. Just be careful in there. The red stuff is everywhere,” Shields said as he rubbed his hands across his round stomach. “It’s a gory mess.”

  Sophia Evans started biting her nails.

  “You don’t have to look at the body,” Theo told her. “You can wait in the hall.”

  “Can you do me a favor?” she asked. “Can you look first and if it’s bad, I won’t.”

  Theo placed his hand on her arm. “Of course.” He took a deep breath and entered the room. A few moments later, he returned. “The body’s not bad, not as bad as you’re imagining. Although the smell in the room is off-putting.”

  “I can smell it,” she replied, covering her nose and mouth.

  Theo led her through the doorway into her old bedroom. Sophia quickly surveyed it, avoiding the body with her eyes. There was no furniture—no bed, no chairs, just doors off their hinges, lying sideways against the walls. Streaks of red painted her formerly white room. The walls, the ceiling, the floors, the doors, were all covered.

  Whatever memories Sophia had retained from her childhood in that house, horror overwrote within seconds. She watched men in suits move about the room. They photographed where she used to imagine she was a ballerina, where she had dressed her Barbie’s as nurses, where her Beatles poster hung, where she had kissed Matthew Patterson in the closet, and where she had decided to study mathematics. How did the bastard know it was her room? How long had he been watching her? She wished she had not chosen to accompany Theo. She had lived a normal life until she met Marc—now car chases, stalkers, and dead bodies.

  “It’s like a horror film. I don’t understand it.” Sophia stepped back and stood in the hall. She turned toward the stairs. “On one side of this door, it looks peaceful, romantic even. You have the wine glasses, the rose petals, clean and peaceful.” She turned around to face Theo who had followed her out of the room. “And on this side, it looks like hell.”

  “Not how you last remembered it?” Theo asked and gave her a soft smile.

  Sophia shook her head and raised her hand to protect her mouth and nose from the sickly sweet, yet pungently acidic smell. “I haven’t lived here in years. How does he know I lived here? It can’t be a coincidence, not with the picture and the code. Can it?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “Hopefully we’ll find out soon.”

  “Please tell me that it’s not that woman’s blood covering the walls. There is just so much blood.” Sophia wanted to sit down but forced herself to step through the doorway again. She couldn’t gather the courage to look at the body in the middle of the room.

  Shields turned his head in her direction. “And just who are you, luv?” He looked her up and down.

  Sophia glared at him.

  “It’s a mess,” he answered, “but it’s not blood. It’s some sort of paint composition. The labs will have to figure out what it is.”

  “How did he get it all over him?” Sophia asked, pointing to the estate agent in the hall.

  “Look, Miss. Why don’t you leave the investigation to the senior investigating officers and fetch me a coffee.”

  “Why you…” Sophia raised her hand to slap him when someone grabbed her arm. “Theo—”

  “Calm down. Calm down, Sophia, I’ve got this.” It wasn’t Theo’s voice.

  “Liam, what are you doing here? Where did you come from?” Her superior was covered in protective clothing. How did he get in?

  “You rang me,” Liam replied.

  “Hey, you’re the man who followed me,” said Theo.

  Liam ignored him.

  “I didn’t ring you,” Sophia said. “I rang Crystal, and I know she wouldn’t notify you under my strict instructions.” Sophia paused then pulled her mobile phone out of her hand bag. “Are you listening in on my conversations again? I told you.” She placed her mobile in Liam’s front shirt pocket. “I can buy a new phone everyday if I have to. I thought I could trust you. Damn you, Liam.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “Hold it! What the hell is going on?” Shields bellowed. “Who are these people, Blackwell?”

  Theo looked from Sophia to Liam and shrugged.

  “Listen, you,” Liam said as he stuck his finger in Shields’s face. “You’ll be hearing from my superiors. I suggest you cooperate with us.”

  “Cooperate with you? Who the hell are you? Until the time my superiors give you clearance, you can just wait in the hall.” Shields signaled to a uniformed officer and motioned them away as his mobile rang.

  Sophia, wanting to avoid the dead body, started to follow the uniformed officer, but Liam held her back.

  “Who are they?” Shields said into his mobile. “What do you mean you don’t know? Why should I give them important information?” He opened his mouth to continue but instead put his phone away. “I don’t know exactly who you are but if you mess up this case—”

  “You’ll what?” Liam interrupted him, patting DI Shields on the cheek. “Unbelievable, eh, Evans? What put you onto this? Does this have to do with the picture? Who told you about the death?”

  Not wanting to disclose her visits with Theo nor wanting anyone to know she once lived in the house, she replied, “Never you mind.”

  Liam looked to Theo and back to her. “You know him. Which means you spoke to him.” He addressed Theo, saying, “She spoke to you, didn’t she? Against a bloody direct order of mine. When did she come to you? Did she show you the photo?”

  “Look, Liam,” Sophia interjected. “You leave him out of it. You’re the one who got me into this mess.”

  “Me? What are you on about? I had nothing at all to do with this.”

  “I do you a favor and look at the mess I’m in. I chose a quiet profession. Something private, not dangerous, not involving these sorts of things, that’s for sure. Now look where I’m standing.”

  “Listen, sweetheart.” Liam leaned into her and said, “From what I see here, it doesn’t look like this concerns you at all. Why you dragged me into this—”

  Thankfully, Shields came over and interrupted.

  “The estate agent came into this room when it was dark,” Shields explained to Theo. “He stumbled around and actually fell over the dead body. That’s what he says anyway. As a result, he’s covered in red.”

  Theo nodded. “He seems genuinely disturbed. Difficult thing to get over, this is. I was thinking about the substance splattered on the wall. It’s made to look like arterial spurting, innit?”

  “Yeah,” Shields replied. “Maybe the killer made it appear that way in an attempt to confuse us, make us think that she died here. But the woman definitely did not die here.”

&nbs
p; Sophia forced herself to look at the body. Margaret Hill lay face up, completely naked, in the middle of the floor. The red substance collected in the creases of her skin and slid off her and onto the floor, creating a large red pool around her. Her face was grey, her eyes closed. Amidst the staged horror, she actually looked peaceful. Sophia moved closer and bent down to examine the body more closely.

  “I thought the reason they called you in is because of the code on Margaret Hill’s back,” Theo said. “How do we know there is a code on her back? She’s lying face up.”

  “Don’t look at me. I didn’t touch the body,” Shields replied, raising his hands in the air. “Let me tell you what the estate agent told me. He entered the room in the dark and tripped over the body. When he turned on the lights, the body shined and the numbers on her back stood out. It scared him to death, but he wasn’t sure it was a real dead body. So he turned her over.”

  “Hmm,” Liam interjected.

  Shields shrugged. “Fishy, I know. We’re going to keep him for questioning, that’s for sure.”

  “The medical examiner will be angry the body was moved before he arrived,” said Theo.

  “Can I see the code?” Sophia asked.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Theo replied. “Let’s leave the room as is for now. At least until the pathologist arrives and yells at us. After that we can run amok.”

  “Why is she shimmering like that? Is it the lights?” asked Liam.

  “She’s defrosting,” Shields replied.

  Sophia’s insides did a somersault. Her knees went weak. She tried steadying herself, but her right hand landed down in red goo. As she tried to rise, she felt Theo’s hand reach under her arm to pull her up.

  “Why don’t we get you a coffee or some water?” he asked, as he removed her stained glove and took another clean one from his suit pocket.

  “I’m all right,” she said.

  “Her legs and arms look like they’ve been broken,” Theo said, referring to the way they were bent out at unusual angles. “The killer meant to stage her this way, but because she had been frozen he had no choice but to break her arms and legs. This is just disgusting. What’s taking the pathologist so bloody long? Traffic can’t be crazy at this hour.”