Page 67 of Watching You
‘DS Salter,’ Biddlecombe shouted down the phone line, ‘I’m transferring a call to you. It’s from a woman who claims she knows the man in the CCTV image.’
‘All right, put her through,’ Salter said, flexing her neck and wishing she was in bed. Since the image of the suspect had been released in the morning papers, they’d been overrun with calls from people who claimed to know his identity, so much so that the briefing room had become one huge call centre. They were already following up several calls with more detailed enquiries, but the sheer volume of possible names was proving unhelpful in the short term.
‘Hello, this is—’
‘Karl Smith,’ the woman on the other end of the line said. ‘The man in that photo is Karl Smith. I’m not just guessing, I know.’
‘Okay,’ Salter said, ‘and in what capacity—’
‘I was his father’s carer until just a few days ago. I saw that man five days a week and I’ll tell you something for nothing,he is absolutely fucking terrifying. I only did that job because I needed the hours, and caring is good money because no one wants to wipe old people’s bums for a living. But that house? The agency couldn’t get anyone else to bloody go because the few people who had worked there before me hated it. They had to pay me more than my usual rate to do it, and if I hadn’t been desperate, I’d never have gone there for so long. When he terminated my contract last week, I swear my blood pressure halved immediately.’
‘He terminated the contract this week just gone?’ Salter confirmed, waving another officer over and motioning at the notepad she was writing on.
‘Yes. Something about not being able to afford it, but he had some money from his mother’s death, plus a carer’s allowance, and I know he worked from home too. He was always on his laptop if we were there at the same time.’
‘And your name is?’
‘Mrs Sandra Bissett. The thing you should know is, sometimes I heard him talking to his mother. Like, arguing with her. I don’t think he even knew he was doing it. He’d be on his own upstairs then suddenly he’d yell and I’d think, is he hurt? Has someone broken in? Should I go up and check on him? But there was never anyone else there.’
‘Okay, I’m just taking some notes, Mrs Bissett. You said you found him terrifying. Was there anything specific he did to make you feel that way or was it something you sensed?’
‘Both!’ she blurted. ‘He would stare at me when he thought I couldn’t see him, not directly but using the hallway mirror so he could see into the lounge. I don’t just mean for a few seconds. Sometimes he’d stand out there and watch me for fifteen minutes while I pretended not to notice. A couple of times, he got so angry about stupid little things that he’d almost seemed to bebaring his teeth at me, then a second later he’d give me this great big smile as if he’d remembered he was supposed to be acting human.’
‘And was there anything unusual that happened in the last few months?’
Sandra paused to think about it. ‘Only the deliveries, really. We didn’t get many of them before, but recently they started coming. Clothes mainly, for him. But there was something going on, because every now and then his father would have an accident in spite of the adult nappies he wore, and then I’d strip the bed and dump the soiled stuff in the laundry. There were at least three sets of doctor’s or nurse’s clothes in there, the cotton trousers and top, you know? Different colours, and had been worn, for sure. But that man didn’t have a job at any hospital that I was aware of. Gave me the creeps, like he’s got some sort of fetish.’
Salter was on her feet in a heartbeat and banging on the desk.
‘Mrs Bissett, not that I don’t believe any of this, but are you absolutely sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt?’
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘I’d bet my life on it.’
‘Please don’t do that,’ Salter said. ‘But could you give me the address?’
Salter was leaving nothing to chance. At Karl Smith’s house, warrant obtained en route, there was a van of armed officers, a crew from MIT and Brodie Baarda.
‘We’re covering front and back?’ Baarda checked.
‘We are. Armed units are going in first to clear the place, then we can enter. There have been no signs of life from inside so far, but his father is supposed to be bedridden and not left alone.’
‘All right,’ Baarda said, motioning to the armed unit leader. ‘Let’s go.’
They knocked, announced themselves, then broke in through the front and back doors simultaneously. A few minutes of shouting followed as they went from room to room, then the unit leader reappeared.
‘Property is safe and unoccupied,’ he said. ‘Nothing suspicious to report and no evidence of a recent or hasty departure. You can go in now.’
Baarda went in first with Salter behind him. They headed directly into what should have been the dining room, only it was taken up with a bed, different types of medication and a tatty armchair.
‘I want to know where his father is,’ Baarda said. ‘He didn’t get up and walk out, so someone must have seen something.’
‘Uniformed officers are starting door-to-door enquiries already. If anyone’s seen anything in the last week, we’ll know about it. Look, family portrait. I’m guessing he was about ten or eleven at the time.’
On the wall to the side of the TV was a yellowing photograph of Karl Smith with his father on one side and his mother on the other. Barbara Smith was looking into the camera as if she either wanted to eat it or kill it, it wasn’t clear which. Karl’s father, on the other hand, was looking slightly away from the lens. But it was Karl who they stared at, his face marked with a spattering of moles, lips slightly parted. Baarda took a photo of it and sent it straight to Connie.
‘He looks like he’s about to scream,’ Salter said. ‘I can see why the carer didn’t like it here.’
‘Ma’am,’ an officer said from the front door, ‘the neighbours say an ambulance was here a couple of days ago. They were here quite a while and eventually a body was taken away covered up. No blue lights. They got the impression the father had passed.’
