Private London - James Patterson [63]
She ducked under the tape and flashed a quick, humourless smile to the young uniformed officer who approached her. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, flashing her warrant card. ‘DI Webb. So, what have we got?’
‘There’s been an accident.’
He would have said more but DI James appeared in the doorway. ‘Inspector Webb,’ she said, a little puzzled to see her.
‘Natalie.’
‘Have there been some developments? On the Colin Harris case? Is that why you’re here?’
‘It looks that way,’ said Kirsty.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Whatever this was … I’m guessing it wasn’t an accident,’ Kirsty gestured at the house.
‘We were working on the assumption that it was.’
DI Natalie James led Kirsty through the house into a kitchen, the far wall of which was missing. A third of the ceiling was gone, with beams and plaster hanging down and debris strewn across the floor.
Kirsty looked up a little suspiciously. ‘Is it safe?’
The Buckinghamshire DI smiled reassuringly. ‘Come through.’
Kirsty followed her through what would have been a back door to the garden patio off the kitchen. A brick wall had been blown into the next-door neighbour’s garden, with metal wreckage strewn around both. A number of white-suited SOCO officers were working the garden.
‘They’re mainly looking for the rest of his body,’ she explained.
‘Who was it?’
‘Local optician. Peter Chappel. Wasn’t he who you were here to see?’ she asked, puzzled.
Kirsty shook her head. ‘This was the last address I could find for my Jane Doe discovered on Friday night.’
‘With the finger missing?’
‘Exactly.’
‘And you know who she is now?’
‘A tip-off from a collar. Information to barter. Vice Squad alerted us. Her name is Adriana Kisslinger. Romanian. Busted back home for prostitution.’
‘And here?’
‘Working as a contract nurse. Dropped off the radar some months back. She was working at Stoke Mandeville.’
‘So Serious Crimes aren’t going away any time soon.’
‘They won’t when they find this out, no.’
‘You haven’t told them?’
‘I didn’t know, did I? Anonymous tips have to be checked out. I was just following up an old address on a possible ident. You know how it works. So what happened here, exactly?’
‘Peter Chappel had a barbecue planned for this afternoon. Came home from his shop after sorting out some paperwork. Put the wine to chill in the fridge and came out here to get the grill going.’
‘It was a gas barbecue?’
‘Range-style, three-burner. Propane gas cylinder in the metal oven. He turned the dial, pushed the ignite button. And … Boom!’
‘There was a leak?’
‘Looks that way. Like I said, we thought it was accidental.’
‘Think again,’ said Kirsty Webb.
Chapter 79
CHLOE, LAURA AND Hannah all shared a three-bed apartment in a student-accommodation block.
I nodded at the security guard we’d had placed at the entrance to the building. She wasn’t in uniform and I was discreet about it. The authorities still didn’t know that we had Hannah back safe and we wanted to keep it that way. Time enough for explanations and recriminations later.
Priority one was getting Harlan Shapiro back. His daughter’s rooms were on the ground floor. I keyed in the entrance code at the door and walked into a brightly lit warm corridor with rugs on the floor, flowers on a side table and modern artwork on either wall between the doors to the student apartments. To the right as I walked in was the students’ kitchen. Far fancier than the one I remembered from my student days.
Sitting at the table was Suzy, drinking a cup of tea, and Sam Riddel doing likewise. Herbal for him, no doubt.
I threw Suzy a slightly critical look. ‘I thought I said to stay with Hannah?’
‘She had a visitor.’
‘Laura?’
‘No.’
I knew they hadn’t let Chloe out. I had the hospital on speed-dial. With Chloe things were going well. They were talking of moving her out of intensive care. Which was good. But no way were they letting her home yet. Which was bad.
I snapped back to the present. ‘So who?’
‘Her tutor. Professor Kidman.’
I smiled,