Shallow Ground (Detective Ford) by Andy Maslen (to read list txt) 📕

team. Mick looked fed up, doodling on his pad. Jan, ever diligent, sat with her pen poised over her notepad. Jools and Olly sat next to each other on his right: any closer and they’d be sitting on his lap.

Hannah sat at the far end of the table. Her eyes never left his. She smiled when he swept his gaze over her. Sandy had begun attending the morning meetings. She commanded the left side of the table, flanked by Alec Reid and a couple of other DSs, drafted in to help cover the multiplying bases of Operation Shoreline.

‘Charles Abbott told me he lied about his original alibis.’ A murmur of excitement built in the room. Ford patted the air. ‘But before you suggest I rush round there with my iron bracelets, he came up with another one.’

‘What is it, guv?’ Olly asked.

‘Who. One Zoe Denys. A high-class prostitute, apparently. Same basic story, though,’ Ford said, frowning. ‘Jools, I need you to keep on top of this one. Abbott’s supposed to be sending me a list of hotels he and this Denys woman used. As soon as I get it I want you to start follow-up with the hotels.’

‘Sure, guv.’

‘How about the DNA from Lisa Moore’s fingernail scrapings, Alec?’ Ford asked.

‘It came back on Friday. When you arrest him or he volunteers for a DNA swab, we’ll be able to compare the two,’ he said.

‘If the new alibi checks out, Abbott’s in the clear, then,’ Sandy said. ‘Who else are you looking at?’

‘The only other person of interest is this hospital porter, Matty Kyte.’

‘Go on.’

‘He’s strong. I felt his grip. And he’s a good fit for the killer size-wise. He’s connected to all four victims by the food bank.’

‘Any tortured animals in his garden shed? Vampire films in his DVD collection? Serial killer books in his bedroom?’ she asked.

‘We interviewed him at SDH and here, but that’s a really good point,’ Ford said.

‘What about his alibi?’

‘He confirmed it earlier today. It’s the same as Abbott’s first one. At home with the missus.’

‘DNA?’

‘He hasn’t got a record. We’ll work on securing a sample from him.’ He flicked a look at Olly, who blushed.

Questions followed about Lisa Moore’s tentative ID of Matty, trophies, alibis and other LOEs. Ford rebuffed them all.

‘I’ve met both men. I’ve looked into their eyes. I’ve profiled the killer and I’ve assessed them both against it. Matty’s a bit of a weirdo, but Abbott’s a wrong ’un. I can feel it.’

‘In your gut,’ Mick deadpanned, winking slyly at Jan.

Ignoring this minor act of treachery, Ford continued. ‘We’ll run checks on Matty, but Abbott is still our focus. Is that clear?’

A chorus of mumbled, ‘yes, guvs’ greeted his sharp question.

‘Why don’t you leave Abbott alone for now and go and see this Kyte character at home?’ Sandy suggested. ‘Maybe get a read on the wife, if she’s all he has.’

‘Sure. I’ll go. Hannah, come with me, yes?’

‘OK.’

After closing the meeting, Ford headed back to his office. On the way he tapped Jools on the shoulder. ‘Got a minute?’

She nodded and rose to follow him.

‘What do you think of Matty Kyte?’ he asked her.

‘You know what I think. He’s too good to be true.’

‘To me he just comes across as a people-pleaser.’

‘Maybe. But what about the blood drawing he denied doing? That’s creepy, don’t you think?’

‘Creepy, yes. Evidence he’s a serial killer? I don’t know, Jools. I think you’re reaching. Maybe Matty was just acting out.’ Like Sam does. No, because Sam’s a teenager and he had a good reason. What’s Matty’s excuse? ‘He had to clear up the mess when Abbott dropped that blood bag.’

Her eyes popped wide. ‘Me reaching? What about you, guv? You hate Abbott because he’s educated, rich and posh. I’ve seen you with guys like him before. Yes, he’s a smug arsehole. But where’s the evidence he’s anything more?’

Ford fought down a sudden desire to tell her how he knew. Why he knew. Takes a killer to know a killer, Jools . . . ? No, never. Then his last words jumped back out at him. He closed his eyes, picturing the moment when Abbott dropped the bag. He visualised it. Capped off, a heat-sealed edge, that weird silky finish to the plastic. Labelled with blood type and quantity and some kind of best-before date. The dark liquid within.

He opened his eyes. Smiling. Feeling jumpy.

Jools was frowning at him. ‘Where did you go, guv?’

‘Remember in the water meadows when we calculated the killer’s blood volume at six litres?’

‘What about it?’

‘That old boy with the iron crank. He said the five rivers are like arteries. He said something like, “I let a little in, let a little out.”’

‘What’s your point?’

‘What if he’s using the blood for transfusions?’

‘Into who?’

‘Himself, Jools! Think about it,’ he said, counting off points on his fingers. ‘He murders people, and takes a litre of their blood. He transfuses himself with their blood.’

‘And he needs six victims—’

‘—to harvest six litres.’

‘Why?’ Jools asked.

‘What?’

‘Why would he do that? Transfuse himself with other people’s blood?’

Ford held his hands wide. ‘How should I know? He’s a bloody serial killer! Why do they do anything?’

‘Trophies?’ Jools asked.

‘I thought we agreed the missing food-bank items were the trophies.’

‘What if the till receipts were wrong? It’s hardly a state-of-the-art system they’re running there.’

Ford shook his head. ‘Angie was murdered the same afternoon she visited the food bank. All her shopping was there on the table. I reread the pathologist’s report this morning,’ he added. ‘No recently digested food in either Angie or Kai’s stomach, so they hadn’t had an early tea.’

‘We need to talk to Matty,’ Jools said at last.

‘Yes, but in the meantime, get Charles Abbott’s medical records. Maybe he’s got some rare blood disorder. Haemophilia or something. Maybe that’s why he went into haematology.’

Once Jools had left, Ford started planning his next move. He realised he had only the haziest notion of how blood transfusions were carried out. And who better to ask than the man he’d been on the point