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Chapter 1 - \"Take Her Away, for Christ sake.\"

Detective Inspector Pierre L'Villiers' looked at the body of a woman lying in a twisted position in a pool of blood. His eyes froze on the blood splattered around the room and he cringed in horror. His mind reeled and he felt himself reaching for- With a gasp, he sat bolt upright. It was just a dream, a bad dream. It was always the same at the start of one of these investigations. The night before he'd been assigned the harrowing case of a woman in her late thirties, brutally murdered and mutilated. Trying to thrust the memory of his dream from his mind, he knew the only thing that would clear his head was to go to the office, suck it up, and just do it.

Pierre left his bed quietly, not wishing to disturb his long-suffering wife this early. After a shower he dressed quickly in a modest suit. This would suffice for a day concerned with asking questions of suspects and detailing tasks to the others connected with this current case.

He fussed around in the large-filled with labor saving devices-kitchen that framed the quiet suburban middle class home in which he and his wife lived. They had purchased it almost on impulse, one eye on their bank account, and one on the day he could finally retire from his role of Detective Inspector. Their two sons had long since grown up and left with their own marriages and careers to worry about, leaving them to ramble the house alone. Lonely sometimes, but all in all pleasant enough, he decided. He made a mug of tea, adding a little milk and a lot of sugar to pep it up. If he ate too early in the morning it always upset his digestion, leaving him in a filthy mood for the rest of the day.

Pierre drove to the office in his small French car, his one link left from his past in the spread out community, where he was born, in the small village of Labaroche in the Alsace region of France. His father farmed a large tract of land and gained a good income from the cattle and wine growing that the ground supported.

Pierre's upbringing had been tough with the summers very hot and the winters cold with snow four months of the year. Schooling in the local town of Colmar and then on to University in Strasbourg. It was during his time in University that the family sold the farm and moved to England taking Pierre with them. In his anger Pierre became a \"drop-out\" and went on to drugs before his father rebelled and sent him on to Oxford to sit for a Bachelor of Arts degree. To his father's delight and astonishment Pierre passed with Honours and then to his anger entered the Police College. During his time at the College he married a local girl and this appeased his father. Acquiring the knack of solving difficult cases Pierre quickly rose up the ranks to Detective Inspector. His time at Oxford and working with the Police had in most parts changed his accent to a clipped English, only reverting to a French accent when he was in a bad temper.

On the way to the scene of the crime, he cursed his boss for giving him charge of the case and the increasing traffic flow that delayed his progress to start the investigation. The thoughts of his bad dream were slowly leaving him but he knew there would be worse than that to come. The first days of an enquiry were always difficult. They called him in late in the day. He was busy at the time clearing up odds and ends of a nasty case of Grievous Bodily Harm. It had taken longer to finish due to some difficult witnesses who kept on changing their statements. Just as he had completed all the paperwork and was ready to go home, the call came.

His boss rung.

\"Sorry to call you out, Pe'er\" he said, could never get his name right.

\"Bit of a nasty one, I'm afraid, woman in her late thirties found dead in her house, looks like murder. You'd better get across there straight away. The local police are still there. Put you on this case. It needs someone with your experience and could be a difficult one. You will find out when you get there.\"

\"But I was just going home.\" Pierre interjected hopefully.

He stroked his graying goatie beard and pulled at his small moustache, a nervous reaction.

His boss went on.

\"Sorry about that but there's no one else available; all the others are down with the Flu', must get on to it straight away. Forensics been called in already. I'll call in tomorrow to see how it's all going.\"

Pierre thought about it for a while, better phone the wife and cancel his evening, it looked as though it was going to be another late night. He did just that. On his way out to his car, he called in the next office, grabbed his protesting Detective Sergeant John Reed and made his way to the scene of the crime.

On the way, John Reed sat quietly with his own thoughts.

They worked well together and had grown to accept and respect each other's opinions. John had a lot of admiration for Pierre, it wasn't easy for a Frenchman to go through Police College and go up through the ranks like he had. He protested sometimes on the way they worked on a case but would always come up with the goods finally.

The car arrived at its destination. The local copper greeted them.

\"When did all this start?\" Pierre asked him, in his best authoritative manner.

\"The body was found by a local taxi driver. Said he did some work for her, like taking her to functions and modeling jobs. He was booked to take her out tonight, waited for her in the car, thought there might be something suspicious, looked through the window and saw her lying on the floor. Called us in straight away. We have kept him here for questioning.\" The local copper reported, reading from his notebook.

Pierre noticed a limousine as they pulled up and hoped it wasn't anyone official, didn't want that just yet.

\"Thanks.\" Said Pierre; at least he had the start of the investigation sorted out. \"We'd better get in and see what is going on. Are forensic here?\" He asked the local copper, being pleased of his efficiency.

\"Yes, they've been here for about half an hour.\"

Pierre grunted his approval and moved into the house with John in tow. The local Sergeant was waiting for them. A cover had been placed over the body that lay across the center of the lounge. \"What's your initial report?\"

Most of it was obvious but it always put the investigation on a sound start to have the co-operation of the local police. \"No sign of a break in. Nothing at present appears to be missing, so we can rule out robbery. The woman is in her middle thirties, name of Maggie Trenter, identified by the taxi driver. Nothing has been moved yet, forensic have taken several sets of fingerprints. We checked the driveway out for car tracks for checking later. We have also checked out the back for a possible break in but there is no sign of that either.\" The Sergeant reported from the notes in his report book.

\"Better get it over with, let me see the body?\" He asked.

The local Sergeant lifted the cover and the full extent of the damage to the body was shown. No chance of this one being suicide. There was a lot of blood over the face and around the body. He'd noticed the blood splattered around the room. It looked like a brutal killing. He hadn't seen many like this before and didn't really want to again.

\"Take her way, for Christ's sake.\"

Pierre grunted again realizing that he would be dreaming of this part of the investigation for a few nights at least. He noted the ambulance men standing by and moved quickly out of the way to let them get on with their work.

The doctor was standing by. He knew him from a long way back and had worked with him on a lot of cases, very dependable, down to earth, no nonsense. Couldn't expect too much from him yet, there could be other signs of her death that could only be revealed by a post mortem.

\"What do you think, so far?\"

\"Her death was caused by a bullet to the head and to her chest, there are marks on her face and head which could indicate an assault with a heavy weapon, no signs yet of a fight. Can't rule out sexual assaults yet, you know we have to wait for the lab to test for that. Nice looker though, it's a pity something like this had to happen to her. Let you know as soon as we can get the initial report. I should think you could safely call this a case of murder.\"

\"I'd appreciate a speedy one on this, please. Would hate to think that it was the start of a series of killings.\"

\"No problem, I'll let you have some sort of report tomorrow. Start on it first thing in the morning.\"

Pierre would have a long discussion on the preliminary aspects of the case with his Sergeant in the morning when he received the post mortem so there was no need to bother him now, just let him get on with it. He wanted to get the feel of the place before the forensic specialists finished their work. To feel the atmosphere that would give him some idea of the person who lived here. Noting how plush the place was for a small house. It was certainly the best money could buy. Expensive paintings hung on the wall. The pastel shaded wallpaper and other furnishings fitted by someone who obviously knew how to set a scene, but for what? It was a case of an attractive lady bringing a man home to entertain? He knew he would have to find the answer to why before he had any chance of solving this one. Find the answer and we'll be halfway there.

He looked through the drawers and cupboards and found that nothing had been disturbed. His Sergeant was already sifting through the lounge cupboards and drawers.

John Reed knew the way his Inspector worked. Most of it was routine. Look for the obvious signs, break-ins, someone rummaging through drawers, articles broken, signs of a fight, there was nothing like that here. The person who did the assault must have known her well and been let in the house or even had a key. No sign of a weapon either. A couple of bullet holes in the wall and that was all. This could be one of those difficult cases. He didn't like this type of cases, too sticky and very hard to pin down. He looked through the drawers and cupboards and found that nothing had been disturbed.

Pierre noticed the taxi driver still hovering about but closely watched by the local policeman. Approaching the man he showed his identity card. \"Detective Inspector L' Villiers. Could I have a word with you, just routine? Your full name, please.\" He noted the taxi driver's nervousness. It wasn't surprising with Pierre's dark complexion and steely blue eyes that had frightened many a nervous suspect.

\"Dave Johnson.\" The taxi driver replied, his eyes blinking rapidly.

\"Nah mate, not me, I didn't kill her. I just came to pick her up, said she had an appointment to go to. She never did tell me where she was going until I turned up. I only drive her to appointments nowadays. We had something going very nicely, then she meets this guy and I'm a nobody. She's been out with a lot of guys since then, always someone new for a while and she finishes with them. All right in the old days, could do what I want with her. She pays me well for driving to these appointments and she knows I can keep my mouth shut.\" The words rushed out in a nervous staccato of sound.

\"All right calm down.\" The Inspector told him. \"Could hardly expect you to kill her and then give the alarm, unless you are a nutter, could I? We will have to get a signed statement from you. Perhaps you could report to the station in the morning, ask for Sergeant Reed. You can confirm that her name is Maggie Trenter?\"

The taxi driver nodded several times looking a little frightened whoever did it must have known about him as well. Will have to give him a good grilling in the morning. Nothing gained by taking him apart now. \"How long had you been waiting before looking through the window?\" He asked.

\"Not long, mate, she always let me in the house, you know what I mean?\"

\"You didn't have a key then?\" He asked hopefully more than anything, it wasn't expected that she would allow him that privilege after their affair.

\"Blimey no, she changed the locks after our affair. If she had kept with me she would still be alive. Who would do such a thing like this to her?\"

\"Go along now. Report to the station in the morning and give your name, telephone number and address to the policeman at the door. No phonies either. Produce your driving license as well for identification purposes. You do have one? Don't you?\"

The Inspector asked him. Never knew with some of them, crooked as hell. He left the taxi driver nodding his head again.

'Where do they come from?' He thought. His instinct told him that this wasn't the murderer but he must have known the person who did it. Further questioning in the morning could prove useful. He could understand why Maggie had been attached to him, with his blond hair and smooth chiseled face, bit of a slippery customer too. Didn't dress too well but with only driving the car it wasn't necessary.

He moved into the kitchen, nothing much there, probably where the murder weapon came from. No drawer's open, the chance of any fingerprints around would be fairly remote. They all wore gloves these days. Most of them had seen too many murder films on television. He longed for the good old days when it was a two minute job to find out who 'dunnit'. Nowadays there were too many technical advances. Had to prove everything down to the last detail. Was this progress? He really didn't know or care. His job was to find the bastard who did this one. He saw his Sergeant looking around the kitchen.

\"Any sign of the gun, John?\"

He asked hopefully, he knew what the answer would be.

\"Nothing yet, Sir. This place looks a funny set up. It seems like a female trapping a male. How or why I don't know yet. I keep on getting a gut feeling that blackmail is involved somehow. The bar in the corner, the plush furnishings, made to make one feel comfortable and relaxed. There must be soft lighting as well. Must have a look upstairs. She must have entertained a lot of men in her time if the taxi drivers comments are anything to go on.\"

\"Yes, I tend to agree with you. There must be something around the house that will lead us to the men that she entertained. I suppose then they will all have to be treated as suspects. Better to find out who these suspects are first, though.\"

He felt his voice reverting to a French accent, the frustration was getting him into a bad mood and he didn't like it. There was a lot more to this case yet. Statements and evidence would need to be carefully investigated. It was best left till tomorrow to call in any suspects for statements. He went upstairs to the plush decorated bedroom, probably the main reason for Maggie Trenter's untimely death. It all happened here, in the bedroom. First it was full of passion, then as it waned the jealousies started with a string of probabilities from then on. What chance would a red-blooded man have in a place like this? No wonder the taxi driver wanted more of her, he'd probably been through the passion and the waning phases. A casual glance around at first to get the feel of the room, it was as though her soft and beguiling, probably haunting personality was still in the room. Her scent still hung in the air, not so overpowering, as it must have been earlier on. The possibilities that a man was with her last night were there. The room gave the impression of a meticulous woman, obviously carefully brought up, probably a disciplined childhood. There were dark red draped curtains at the window and the carpet matched with a woven pattern. The bedclothes were expensive with silk sheets. The pictures on the wall were of barely clad females in provocative positions. He noted a light control on the wall for setting the lights to a perfect level. Was it for a night in bed with a man just picked up? This was all prearranged, as though she knew who the man was. A better that average type of man with money and a lifestyle waiting to be picked up but not in the street in the street. This was no low class prostitute bedroom. It was definitely middle to upper class. Maggie must have charged a lot of money for her services or was it blackmail, but how?

Pierre called John up to have a look.

\"Wow.\" John exclaimed.

\"This is something. It looks as though she had company in here quite often and more likely the male type.\"

He looked around with a well-trained eye. With a feeling of what he was looking for. He'd seen it on a case before. There was a mirror on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. Moving the mirror to one side revealed in an alcove a small video camera.

\"Look at this, Sir, I think it's a two way mirror.\"

John Reed gave a triumphant shout. There was a control panel by the side of the camera with wires leading from it. By the side of the bed was a small square of carpet. Lifting up the carpet revealed a small pressure pad switch that operated the video camera.

Pierre studied the set up carefully. The angle of the camera was carefully set. With the pressure pad on one side of the bed it was an easy task to set the camera to run for half an hour. The subdued lighting was placed to highlight the area sufficiently to give enough light for the film.

\"How is it possible for the man not to notice anything?\"

\"That's easy to see. Did you notice the well stocked bar downstairs? It was obvious that the intended victim was well plied with drink before being invited to bed. The victim was only interested in what was to happen when they were in bed. Wouldn't want to remember much about it in the morning. He would be more interested in getting out quick or back to his wife. Maggie would pretend to be asleep until the poor unsuspecting victim left. Take the video cassette from the camera, copy it and on to blackmail the victim.\"

Pierre thought carefully for a long time. A nice set up and the pictures from the half hour video would be compromising enough to worry her client. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like this case and inwardly cursed the recent epidemic of Beijing Flu, but for that he would have spent more time on his recent Grievous Bodily Harm case and have less to worry about. The taxi driver could have been the person making the copies of the video, his reward probably being a sexual favour.

\"OK, John. When forensic have finished we can wrap up for the night. Better leave a copper on duty outside on a twenty-four hour watch. Someone might want to come and destroy some evidence or burn the place down. See if you can find any photographs, she must have kept copies of them somewhere. Check her mail for a few days and see what turns up. Get the local copper to go round to the local pub, the Victoria Inn, the landlord there I've met him before, always seems to know what's going on, ring him first though or he'll think it's a raid. Not a lot I can do here now. I'll be back at the shop for a while to set up the incident room and enquiry team, see who's available. We'll need a couple of good guys on this, never know where its going to lead or what worms will be uncovered.\"

He instructed John.

John Steel made a thorough search of lounge and the bedroom. He was looking for videos, now. In his experience they were always hidden somewhere in case they were needed again. It wasn't too long before he found the videos, it was in a small compartment at the back of a drawer. Not very original but she wouldn't expect anybody to be looking for them. In an envelope with the videos was a list of names with the video number. She had the art of it all right. Glancing quickly through the names on the list, he recognised a couple of them and drew a breath of disbelief, prominent men; a couple of locals, the local Member of Parliament and even the local Vicar. This case was to become very interesting. He placed the videos and envelope in a plastic bag, his search was over, time to go home. The videos would make an interesting mornings viewing for the detectives assigned to the case. He followed Pierre out to the car, bidding goodnight to the local copper. On the way home in the car with Pierre his thoughts were only of the times that were to follow in the next few weeks and of the publicity.

Pierre dropped John off at his home and drove back to his office and realised it was a bit late to set up anything. Attending to a few non-urgent matters, he packed up and went home. The thought of what happened last night was still fresh in his mind as he drove to the office that morning. Arriving at the office Pierre wondered what made them do it. It was going to be a long day and he wasn't looking forward to it.

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