Page 34
Story: The Curator (Washington Poe)
And not one of the tissue paper and stick things Poe had been given as a child – this was an adult’s kite. He reckoned it would have been at least six feet across when fully assembled. The string was wrapped round the trunk and a couple of branches, a few feet above Poe’s head. If it hadn’t rained he might have missed it.
The kite itself was tangled in among some branches and its own lines. It was black with random squares of red and purple. It had a logo on each wing, but Poe couldn’t make out what they were. It was crumpled and looked smashed beyond repair. He didn’t know what they were called but most of the frame tubing, and all of the supporting struts, were either broken or bent. The nylon was ripped in at least two places.
It was wedged in tight. If it had been flown into the tree by accident he’d have expected it to catch in the outer branches, not tight against the trunk like it was. It had been carried up and staged. Which made sense. That way the killer had avoided having it anywhere unrecoverable, in which case climbing a tree would be too suspicious.
Poe paused a beat before climbing again. The rain had made the branches wet and slippery and he wasn’t an idiot – if he fell he’d break half the bones in his body. He should wait for it to be professionally recovered.
CSI would take their time. Probably use a cherry picker so they had a safe and stable aerial platform to work from. That would be the sensible thing to do. No one would get hurt and no evidence would be lost.
But … he wanted a look first.
After fifteen minutes Poe was above the kite. He was confident he hadn’t touched anything the killer had. As far as he was concerned, the crime scene was still untainted.
He had a better view of one of the wing logos. It was golden but the fabric was crumped and folded over so he still couldn’t make out what it was. It was probably a brand logo but he wanted to take a photograph anyway, and the only way that would be possible was if he lay horizontally above it. He’d be able to see it perfectly but, without the trunk to cling to, the branch might not be able to support his weight.
It might bend or snap and it was a long way to the ground.
Sod it, he thought. Sometimes the only way to get the job done was to literally go out on a limb …
Chapter 21
Poe waited in the wood for CSI and the responding detectives.
He’d called Nightingale and told her what he’d found. She’d been so pleased to have a solid lead that she forgot to be angry about how far up the tree he’d climbed.
‘Thank God for Edgar’s frozen water bowl,’ she’d said, then hung up.
When the two detectives from Carlisle CID arrived, and Poe had handed over responsibility for the scene, he made his way back to Bradshaw. Sparkes had already left with Rebecca’s laptop. Poe told her what had happened, leaving out the part where he’d slipped and fallen the last few feet out of the tree. He’d torn three fingernails and his left knee was now clicking.
As Bradshaw downloaded his photographs, she briefed him on what she’d been up to.
‘I’ve now got copies of the hard drives of all the victims’ computers, Poe,’ she said. ‘I’ll get the contents of their phones and tablets after we’ve finished here. I’ll need to write a program that can work across all platforms simultaneously.’
‘And you can do that?’
Bradshaw shrugged. If she were the type of person to say things like ‘piece of piss’ she’d have said ‘piece of piss’. Instead she said, ‘I’ll have something by the end of tomorrow. If there’s an electronically recorded link between the three victims, I’ll find it.’
Her computer beeped.
‘The photographs have downloaded, Poe,’ she said. ‘What do you want to look at first?’
‘The ones with the kite,’ he said.
Bradshaw selected the best and enlarged it.
‘See how it’s been tied?’ Poe said, pointing at the screen. ‘He put it there so he had an excuse to be up the tree if someone saw him.’
‘I agree. That’s a knot at the bottom.’
‘Which begs the obvious question: why did he leave it up there?’
It didn’t make sense.
‘Perhaps he lost his nerve when it was time to collect it? These photographs were taken from awfully high up.’
Poe shook his head. ‘If there’s one thing our killer has, it’s balls. He’s been brazenly nipping in and out of places, leaving body parts under the noses of people who’d have ripped him to shreds if he’d been caught. Climbing a tree isn’t going to faze him.’
‘Maybe he just saw his chance and took it,’ Bradshaw said.
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