Mark Sennen - Touch

‘Do you recognise this girl?’ Riley took out his picture of Kelly Donal.

‘I’ve seen her on the news, yes, and once before, here actually.’

‘At the playground?’

‘Yes, she was draping herself over the roundabout, breasts hanging out of a halter top. Forester was using a video camera and following her around as she went on all the equipment. Then the girl left and Forester started chatting to some of the mums.’

‘Was he popular round here then?’

‘I don’t think popular is the right word, respected is more like it.’

‘Respected?’

‘Sounds stupid, doesn’t it? But Forester had money and drugs as well as the gift of the gab.’

‘Enemies?’

‘Dozens, I’m sure. Wouldn’t have bothered him though. You know, on the day when I saw him and the girl this other guy turned up. He had a camera too. Forester seemed to be showing him the footage on the video camera when out of the blue the other guy hit Forester. Just like that. Well, Forester erupted. He chucked the camera down and laid into this other man. He was soon on the ground and Forester was kicking him over and over again. I was about to call you lot when Forester stopped. He picked up the camera, gave the guy one more kick and went off.’

‘What happened then?’

‘I was a bit concerned about the other guy so I went over to ask if he was alright. His face was a mess and he had blood pouring out of his nose, but I shouldn’t have bothered; he told me to piss off and mind my own business!’

‘Charming.’

‘Anyway, I went to talk to some of the girls in the playground and the guy sat on the bench over there, just sat with his head in his hands. After a while he recovered and then he was scribbling things down in this little notebook. It seemed strange. I remember thinking at the time maybe he could be a reporter, but that didn’t fit with him hitting Forester, nor with the way he kept staring.’

‘Staring at what?’

‘At me, at the girls, the mums.’ Julie shuddered. ‘He kept licking his lips and looking around. He was creepy and I must admit, despite what had happened, I didn’t feel much sympathy for him.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘About your height, black hair, very pale skin, white almost, as if he didn’t get out in the sun much.’

‘Can you remember when this was?’

‘The summer, July, August maybe?’

‘And have you seen Forester or this other man since?’

‘No.’ Julie paused and looked over at the boys, her face saddened and reflective. ‘Forester was probably no different from these kids. Then things went wrong, like they do for so many of them. I heard he used to take quite good pictures once.’

The four boys whooped and shouted and Enders was prancing round the field like he was up front for Brazil. The ball flew back and forth between them and Enders’s smile was as wide and natural as the boys. Riley wondered when the fork in the road would come for them.

‘Anything else about Forester?’

‘Not that I can think of. I’ll ask around, ask the kids. They tell me things they wouldn’t tell their parents, things you wouldn’t believe.’

‘Thanks. Talking of kids, shouldn’t this lot be in school? I sort of think I should be reporting them to someone.’

‘You do that Detective Clever Clogs,’ she laughed. ‘But you’ll look a bloody idiot if you do.’

‘Why is that then?’

‘It’s the half-term holiday.’

Riley shook his head and smiled.

‘Thanks for telling me.’ He said, pulling out his card and handing it over. ‘If you think of anything else then please let me know.’

‘No problem. And thank you for offering to take the boys to a Chelsea game. I’m going to hold you to that.’

‘I thought you might.’ Riley stopped and, realising what he was about to say, his pulse began to quicken. ‘I’ll do it on one condition.’

‘Which is?’

‘You come too.’

Riley and Enders walked back to their car, Enders trying to brush a patch of dirt from his jacket where he had taken a tumble.

‘That woman was a bit tasty, hey Darius my old Wily Riley?’ Enders smiled and gave Riley a wink.

‘Julie?’

‘“Julie?”’ Enders echoed Riley’s voice. ‘Don’t play the innocent with me, I saw you flirting with Miss Julie fresh-as-summer Meadows. Well, I wouldn’t mind going round and mowing her lawn once a week. Twice if it needs it.’

‘Thanks for the fascinating insight, Constable. Your opinion of Ms Meadows is duly noted. I’ll tell the boss shall I? Maybe your wife?’

‘Ah, well, no need to do that.’ Enders squirmed and changed the subject. ‘Did you discover anything of use?’

‘Forester was pushing drugs down here for sure. Supplying the young addicts and getting his legover while doing it. And then there were the videos.’

‘We knew that, didn’t we? Doesn’t get us any closer to finding Kelly’s killer though.’

‘There was another guy with a camera too. Seems like Forester and this guy had an argument over Kelly.’

‘Well, she was hot and had a lot for them to argue over.’ Enders grinned. ‘But if the pictures the boss showed me are anything to judge by they could have had one each and there would still have been enough to go round.’

‘Jesus, Patrick! You are way out of order. The girl is dead, OK? I witnessed her body getting sliced open down the morgue, guts and everything on a tray. Some guy raped and killed her and all you can do is make smutty jokes.’ Riley stared at Enders until he was sure he had got the message.

‘What about this other guy?’ Enders said after a while, sounding admonished if not contrite. ‘Forester kills Kelly and does this guy too. Then he does a runner.’

‘Could be, but we’re missing something, I know we are.’

‘Well?’ Enders ruffled his hair, dislodging a piece of mud. ‘What is it?’

‘I reckon I am a good detective,’ Riley pointed his key fob at the car and bleeped the locks. ‘But unfortunately I am not a bloody clairvoyant.’

Crownhill Police Station, Plymouth. Thursday 28th October. 12.30 pm

‘So the two killings are linked?’ Hardin’s hand hovered over his mouse, an almost imperceptible shake visible. A flush of red had seeped in across his nose and cheeks and Savage wondered if he was already imagining possible headlines for the local papers.

‘Linked is not the right word,’ Savage said. ‘Related is better.’

‘But the picture is not actually of the Olivarez girl?’

‘The likeness is uncanny at first, although when you look closer you can tell it is not her. The photograph isn’t recent for one thing. On the back is a Boots Chemist watermark so we scanned a copy and sent it off to their head office. According to them the logo is from the late seventies or early eighties.’

‘Bloody hell. Are they sure about those dates?’

‘Pretty much. We are sending them a sample of the photograph so they can do some further analysis. Unfortunately they can’t say which of their labs did the development. As for the content in the picture, well, you have seen for yourself.’

‘The girl is standing half-facing the camera. White underwear. The bed in the background and the other furniture suggest a bedroom.’

‘Yes. Appears to be a candid shot too, so not posed.’

‘But where and who? And what the hell has it got to do with the Leash case?’

‘Maybe nothing.’

‘Or maybe everything.’

Savage wriggled on the chair, smoothing her skirt and flicking a piece of fluff to the floor. She didn’t want to think about the possible connections because if true they had a murderer or murderers who had now killed twice. In all likelihood that meant they would do so again.