Erin had wondered the same. Viv had trained in Boston and had brought to Jericho some of the latest lateral working practices. A few, such as authorising the increased use of drones, had resulted in a sharp drop in petty crimes. But it was on Viv’s watch that there had been unsolved murders and an increase in fear of crime in the community. None of this, however, was Carla’s fault.

  ‘She did what was asked of her. She came down, observed the objects around the body, made some notes. The fact she’s not come up with anything might mean there isn’t a pattern. A negative result in my job allows me to exclude certain elements.’

  Baros stared at her, his cold eyes catching her gaze. ‘I might have a lead on the killer of Jessica Sherwood. You know, the vic where you missed the needle mark.’

  Don’t rise to his bait, she cautioned herself. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Neighbour along the road was breastfeeding at four a.m., about the time Miss Sherwood was killed. She heard the dog barking but thought nothing of it. But she also says she heard the sound of a car starting. Not the same direction as the dog but nearer her house.’

  ‘She didn’t see anything?’

  ‘Her curtains were closed, but the timings would be right. We think the victim was murdered around the time the dog was let out into the garden and the killer must have needed to make a quick getaway. He or she probably stashed their car in the nearby alley.’

  ‘You think it might appear on surveillance cameras?’

  ‘It’s a possibility. There’s nothing on Penn Street, but we’re looking at surrounding areas.’

  Erin kept the scepticism off her face. Security cameras were on the increase in Jericho, another of Viv’s initiatives, but coverage was patchy. It would be a lucky break to capture a car and get its licence plates.

  ‘OK. Well, good luck and keep me informed. Let me know of any progress.’

  Baros, bored, buttoned up his jacket. ‘I got the lieutenant giving me grief on this. I need concrete evidence from the medical examiner’s office, not hypotheticals. It would help if Perez was focusing on the job.’

  ‘Sounds like she’s doing all the work.’

  Baros’s lip curled. ‘Thank you, doc. I see the other side of things. She’s got a bee in her bonnet about Stella King. Remember her?’

  ‘The sex worker who died at Franklin Mall. Why’s she relooking at that?’

  ‘Guess.’

  ‘Oh.’ Erin resisted the temptation to laugh. Good for you, Carla, thought Erin. Give them a kick up the arse for a change.

  ‘Perez spent time in vice. She’s all sympathy when it comes to the girls. Plus Dallas, the union rep, has been giving us hell. Wants the lighting improved in the underpass since Tiffany died.’

  ‘Is that your jurisdiction?’

  ‘Of course not, but we have regular meetings with the union and we’re the ones Dallas thinks can get things moving.’

  ‘And what’s all this got to do with Perez?’

  Baros shrugged. ‘As I said, she’s got a bleeding heart when it comes to the girls. She thinks we might have missed something first time round.’

  ‘And what do you think?’

  Baros zipped up his jacket. ‘I think your friend Carla needs to stay in her lane. Leave policing to the professionals.’

  21

  The first weeks of term passed in a blur for Carla. She had a sense she’d put the cat among the pigeons but wasn’t holding her breath anything would actually happen. She tried to concentrate on life away from death and decay, but the weather wasn’t helping. The leaves on the trees yellowed and, by the end of the month, had begun to drop onto the sidewalk, picked up every morning by collectors. Carla appreciated their efficiency but missed the sludge of leaves on her walk to college in Oxford. Autumn had been Dan’s favourite season too. New terms meant new beginnings for both of them. The timetable at Jericho was teaching heavy. Research was encouraged in holidays or sabbaticals only. Carla got to know her students and whose classes they preferred. Jack Caron remained a favourite, Albert was respected and his classes well attended. Max appeared less well-liked, and a few students complained he marked essays harshly.

  One Friday morning, she had a class titled ‘The Criminal Corpse’. It was oversubscribed and Carla was surprised to find that the students attending had been selected by a ballot. It wasn’t a process she’d had anything to do with and she wondered how the selection had taken place. The lack of transparency put her teeth on edge and she was determined to bring it up with Albert whenever she had her review. She began her course with folk beliefs associated with bodies of criminals, fictionalised retellings of hangings in literature and the magical powers associated with the corpse. Here, Carla was in her element as the dissection of emotion was what she loved. How simple it would be if the ancient belief that dead corpses would bleed in the presence of a killer were actually true.

  The call out to Tiffany Stoker’s body had given her a fresh insight into how much people were invested in hunting down the criminals in their own community. She noticed her class was mainly women, which was unusual. The other modules had a more even mix of genders and she didn’t for a minute think men weren’t interested in the subject. Once more, she was pretty sure the ballot hadn’t been a fair one – had the male students been selected for more mainstream courses?

  The death of Tiffany Stoker remained a shadow hanging over her. Details emerged in the local newspaper as the investigation, as far as she could see, creaked on. At thirty-four, Tiffany had not settled at any job, working in bars, hotels and restaurants to make a meagre living. She had parents in Chicago who had come to claim her remains and had offered no motive as to why Tiffany had reached such a tragic end. If she had a boyfriend, it was news to them. Carla heard nothing from the detectives and she hadn’t the courage to contact Viv again. Albert’s cheese and wine party was scheduled for that evening and she was glad it was now a few weeks into term. She was able to put names to faces and was beginning to get a grip on the bewildering bureaucracies of Jericho College.

  * * *

  Just as well I don’t suffer from agoraphobia, she thought as she shoved her way through the throng of people inside Albert’s office. It was at least four times the size of her own room, which was cavernous now Lauren’s stuff had been cleared. About thirty people stood in huddles, chatting while balancing plates of cheese and crackers and wine in old-fashioned balloon glasses. The room smelled of wood polish, stilton and expensive perfume. She spotted Albert on the far side of the room talking to two male colleagues, his manner expansive as he held their attention. A table near the window was laden with European cheeses, the sort of stuff she could have picked up in a supermarket back home but probably cost a fortune here. She put a piece of brie on a cracker and felt a tap on her shoulder. Max handed her a glass of red.

  ‘I thought I’d bring you a glass. You’re not a teetotaller, I take it.’

  ‘Certainly not,’ she said, taking the wine from him. He led her by the elbow to a corner of the room. ‘Want me to point people out? I’ll introduce you to anyone who sounds interesting.’

  Carla wanted to shrug off his grasp, which was a little too proprietorial for her liking. Although she was new to Jericho, she was perfectly capable of sliding into a conversation in a social situation such as this.

  ‘I’m fine, I promise. I do this sort of thing all the time.’

  Before Max could answer, she walked away, her escape hindered by a huddle of men in tweed jackets who refused to budge as she squeezed past. She spotted Jack in the corner talking to an overdressed woman in silver heels. He waved her over and she pushed her way through the body of people.

  ‘Carla. Just the person I wanted to see. I wanted to introduce you to my wife, Anna, who’s a confirmed Anglophile. She spent a year at Cambridge and loved it.’

  Anna was a tall blonde who wouldn’t have looked out of place in a Hitchcock film. She looked Carla up and down, an assessing glance. Carla had dug out the only cocktail dress she’d thought to pack. It was black velvet, probably a bit dated, but its bias cut suited her petite frame. Anna was wearing a long silver evening gown which should have looked ridiculous amongst the books and papers, but she carried it off effortlessly. They made for an attractive couple, thought Carla.

  She waited for either of them to make conversation, but they looked at her, clearly waiting for her to take the initiative.

  ‘Which college were you at?’ Carla asked, glancing at Jack.

  ‘Girton. I’d go back there in a shot if I could. I absolutely adored the city and its buildings.’

  ‘You’re an academic?’

  Anna gave a laugh. ‘Me? I don’t think there’s room for two academics in a marriage, is there? It’s like two writers living together. They’d drive each other mad.’

  Carla shrugged, thinking of Dan and how they’d supported each other in their careers even when Dan had begun to sicken. She glanced again at Jack, who was watching her reaction. The pair radiated tension, as if they’d recently finished a row. She shrugged. ‘It depends on the dynamics of the relationship, doesn’t it? Do you have children?’

  She saw Anna’s face fall and realised it was the wrong thing to ask. She could have kicked herself for being so crass – she hated being asked the question and yet she hadn’t been able to help herself, her curiosity about the marriage of these two overriding her usual sensitivity. She was saved by Albert, who descended on them, drink in hand. ‘Ah, you’ve met the lovely Anna. A fine historian, but I fear we’ve lost her to the delights of Jericho’s social circle. Seen Franklin recently?’

  That name again. Anna smiled and fiddled with her bracelet. ‘James is very busy as you can imagine, but Jack and I see him occasionally.’

  Carla saw Jack frown as if he wasn’t much pleased being associated with James Franklin. ‘Is he a benefactor to the university?’ she asked.

  ‘He’s a benefactor to the whole town,’ said Albert. ‘His family has been here a generation longer than mine and he never lets me forget it.’

  There was no edge to Albert’s words, another man happy with his place in the world. They were joined by Viv, who was wearing jeans with a spangly top. Viv made a few remarks to Anna and then pulled Carla to one side.

  ‘How are you getting on?’

  Carla wasn’t sure if she was asking about police business. ‘I’m great, thanks. I hadn’t realised there would be so many people here.’

  ‘It’s department staff plus partners. It gets a bit hot in here as the evening progresses, but it’s a chance for everyone to get together now the semester is in full swing. You said you’d met Zoe, didn’t you?’

  Carla glanced at the girl standing next to her mother. Away from the bar, she looked younger in her jeans and sneakers. ‘Of course. We met at Morrell’s.’

  ‘Having a drink with Max.’ The girl winked at her mother. ‘Another college romance, maybe.’

  Carla shook her head, embarrassed. ‘Not likely. It was purely a get to know you chat.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Viv. ‘Don’t mix work with pleasure. Zoe, go get me a glass of water. This red wine is giving me a headache. Check your brother’s okay too.’

  In the distance, Carla could see a dark-haired teenager with buds in his ears staring into his phone. Viv followed Carla’s gaze and shrugged. ‘No chance of a babysitter for Liam. He’s fine.’

  ‘I’d been wondering whether to call you to see if you had any updates on Tiffany Stoker.’

  Viv made a face. ‘It’s slow going. The guests have now definitely been ruled out. The Lake House is a place for couples. It’s not a business hotel for single men. If she had a paramour, he’s not stayed at the hotel.’

  ‘And might be still in Jericho.’

  Viv gave her a sharp glance. ‘I really hope that isn’t the case.’

  Carla swallowed. ‘I don’t want you to think I was interfering with your case. It’s just I’m now in the office that Doctor Powers used. It’s hard not to think about her work on the Madison Knowles case.’

  Viv’s eyes roamed around the room. ‘I’m wondering if it’s a good idea to call in experts from Albert’s department. No offence to any of you, but I usually only need some initial thoughts on the crime scene. The wider picture – patterns, trends – need to be left to my team. It’s number crunching and anything we find needs to get past the DA’s office to ensure it ultimately stands up in court.’

  ‘And Lauren found nothing at all after studying Madison’s room?’

  ‘Room, house, street. It was the first time I’d asked Albert to suggest one of his colleagues. The dorm house wasn’t the most accessible on the street. It had locks on all the windows and the girls made sure to bolt the basement door every evening. Not everyone does that.’

  ‘You think Madison was targeted?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Viv checked no one was in hearing distance. ‘The thing is, before the killer entered Madison’s room, another of the girls said she heard the handle of her own room turn, but she’d locked the door. It suggests the killer tried her first and, after not having any luck, moved on. He was out for blood and any of the college students would have served the purpose. The other girl had a lucky escape.’

  ‘Do you think the house was significant? I mean location is something I’m fascinated by and I wonder if the house was targeted in any way, perhaps because of its poor security.’

  ‘That’s what we thought, which is why we brought in Lauren. Her expertise is in early settlements in New Mexico and Arizona. A long way from here, but Albert thought, of all his staff, she was the once most connected to the sense of place.’

  ‘And could she come up with anything?’

  ‘Nada. Although…’

  ‘What?’

  ‘After Lauren died, we discovered she’d been back to the house twice to have a look around. The owner lives next door and as it was the end of term and some of the girls had already left, she was happy to give the keys to Lauren.’

  ‘You’ve no idea why she went?’

  ‘None at all.’

  ‘You think I could take a look too?’

  Viv froze. ‘Sticking with the witch bottle theory? You know, I took another look at the crime scenes of my unsolveds after you left the other day. I like to think I’m always up for a decent idea.’

  ‘See anything?’

  ‘Nothing to see as far as Jessica Sherwood. Just a usual suburban house without any evidence of disarray. Stella King’s crime scene had even less to excite me. Just a bare parking lot. Madison’s photos are a harder look, but I saw nothing significant.’

  ‘Do you think I could examine those photos? It’s nothing personal, but I know what I’m looking for. Whoever left the items around Tiffany’s body is interested in ritual protection. It’s not my area of expertise, but I should be able to spot items traditionally found in these bottles.’

  Carla thought Viv was going to turn her down. She picked up her glass and glanced towards the drinks table. ‘Why not. If you can give me any clues over Madison Knowles, I’ll be grateful. Her parents are devastated. It’s affected the mother pretty badly. Ever heard the story of the lost child of Wachusett?’

  Carla shook her head.

  ‘It’s an old New England story. Maybe I’m not the best person to tell you. Let’s just say Madison’s death has hit her mother hard. The scene was terrible, Madison fought for her life. However, if you’re happy to put up with the gore, I’ll ask the team to get the photos out for you. Just stop by the station when you have a chance.’

  ‘You couldn’t send them to me?’

  Viv gave her a look. ‘That’s not how it works. I’ve enough problems with officers sharing stuff on their phones. I’m not having anything leave the building if I can help it. I’ll ask Detectives Baros and Perez to get the files out for you.’

  They both turned as Albert came over to join them.

  ‘Like the wine?’

  ‘Lovely,’ said Carla, who’d hardly taken a sip. ‘Just catching up on a few things with Viv here. She was telling me about the lost child of Wachusett.’

  Albert smiled. ‘A story that would be right up your street, Carla. Lingering emotions and popular imagination. I still feel guilty about sending you to Silent Brook though. Sure you’re all right?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Albert looked down at his wife, who gave him a bright smile. There were some things, Carla realised, that the couple didn’t share. Fair enough. She hadn’t told Dan everything either.

  She felt Viv’s eyes on her. While Albert’s back was turned, she leaned in. ‘Want me to make that call tomorrow? Go via the station to see the photos and then on to Penn Street. You need to see the carnage that took place in that room and then visit the home. If you find anything, call me.’

  22

  Saturday at the precinct was noticeably quieter than when Carla had previously visited. She guessed detectives took the weekend off as in any regular job, with just a core team keeping things ticking over. One of the detectives on duty was Amy Perez. She was dressed in a blue trouser suit with a cotton shirt that was slightly too short in the body which she kept pulling down. Without her partner, she was less hostile, although she didn’t look like she wanted to let go of the clutch of files she was holding.

  ‘Lieutenant says you want to look at some photos. Hope you’ve a strong stomach. Here you go: Madison Knowles, Jessica Sherwood and Stella King. Maybe you want to leave Ms Knowles to the last.’ She handed over three pink folders.

  ‘Pink files because they’re women?’ asked Carla.

  ‘Pink files for homicides. Male or female, you get a pink folder.’

  Feeling foolish, Carla nodded. ‘Thank you. Is there anywhere I can get some coffee?’

  ‘There’s a machine on the first floor. You can sit at that table over there. I need your mobile.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘No photos are to leave this building and that includes any you take yourself. The boss asked me to remove your mobile.’

 

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