AVENGE

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE - DETECTIVE MULRAINE

61.

DETECTIVE MULRAINE

The butler looked pale as he sat on the chaise lounge with a policeman taking notes. Robert walked past them, towards an open door at the rear-right corner of the magnificent reception hall. He walked past the stairs, which rose from the centre of the hall onto a landing which followed three of the walls around the hall.

Robert showed his identification to the constable guarding the door to Judge Wragg's study. The constable stood aside, allowing Robert and PC Stokes inside. Robert stopped suddenly, causing PC Stokes to bump into him. There was blood everywhere.

Charlene Piper looked up from her work on the body of George Young. "Don't come any further, Detective Mulraine." She held her hand out. "This room is a mess. You'll need to wear full protective covering." She stood and approached Robert.

"Why so much blood?"

"The young man sliced through a main artery when he cut his throat with that katana." Charlene pointed at the sword lying next to the body she'd been examining.

"He cut his own throat!" exclaimed PC Stokes.

Charlene looked at him. "Yes. If you're about to show us the contents of your stomach, I'd prefer you do it outside. Don't contaminate my crime scene."

Robert looked round. PC Stokes had paled significantly. Robert felt queasy himself, so he knew how the young officer felt. "Go outside, Stokes. I'll see you in a few minutes."

PC Stokes nodded with a hand held firmly against his mouth and hurried from the room.

"Isn't this unusual for a slit throat?" asked Detective Mulraine.

"Yes. But this is no ordinary slit throat, detective. I'd show you but I think it would be better if you looked at the photographic evidence later. It takes around ten minutes to fully cover your body in the protective garments."

"Okay. What happened to Judge Wragg?"

"He was strangled. All that blood I think we'll find belonged to the young man."

"I take it he strangled the judge then slit his own throat?"

"Yes. There is no evidence of another person being present. No footprints in the blood. The butler said there was only the two of them in the room."

"Okay, Charlene. I'll see you later to look at your evidence."

"Indeed you will."

Robert was only too glad to leave this crime scene. He'd never seen anything like it before. He had walked several paces away from the room before he stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He shivered as he exhaled.

He walked towards the butler and saw PC Stokes emerge from the WC. He waited for Stokes to walk to him. "Are you okay, Stokes?"

"Yes, sir. I've cleaned up after myself, sir."

"I don't need the details, Stokes."

"Sorry, sir."

"Come on." He continued towards the butler.

"Hello, sir. May I ask your name?" said Robert.

The butler looked up. "Baker. Tom Baker, sir."

"You are Mr Wragg's butler?"

"Yes, sir. And cook, cleaner, chauffeur."

"Is there anyone else here?"

"Mrs Wragg is not here, sir. She went to see a sick relative last week."

"Anyone else?"

"No, sir."

"Do you know the name of the young man?"

"A Mr Young, sir. He works for the NatWest bank."

"Really. Why is he here?"

"Mr Wragg invited him here for some financial advice, sir."

"That's unusual."

"Mr Wragg was unwell but he still wanted his business sorted, sir. Mr Wragg had to have everything done right away. He would never wait, sir."

"I see. Do you have any idea why Mr Young would murder Mr Wragg?"

Baker shook his head.

"Had anyone else already been to see Mr Wragg before this happened?"

"No, sir. Mr Wragg didn't tend to have many visitors. Mr Young was the first one for several months."

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, sir."

Robert walked away, headed straight for the front door. PC Stokes followed him.

Once they were outside Robert said, "It's the same MO, Stokes. Two dead bodies. One of them the killer. It's got to be Henry Morton. Somehow, he's found a way to program his victims to murder his targets."

"Are we going to arrest him, sir?" asked PC Stokes.

"And charge him with what?" Robert shrugged. "There is no physical evidence linking him to any of the murders. Hell, even motive is weak. The killers who slaughtered his family all went to prison. Justice was served."

"What can we do, sir?"

They got back into the grey Mondeo.

"I don't know, Stokes. Even arresting him to keep him off the streets for forty-eight hours is pointless. All his targets are dead. I doubt there will be any more murders." Detective Mulraine started the car. "For now, we'll go back to the station."