City Of Shadows. M Lee J
cards, sir?’
‘To be precise, Mr Lee’s business card. Apparently, he worked for the Three Friends Company. We must interview the boss, find out more about Mr Lee.’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll add it to our list of things to do.’
Danilov put the card into his pocket and stepped into the hall. ‘When the mother heard her son shouting, she must have been in the hallway. She was wearing her shoes which suggest she was on her way out. She sees what is happening, but instead of running down to save her son, she turns and runs up the stairs. Strange that, not a maternal reaction at all. I wonder if she was going to warn her husband? The other killer chases after her.’
‘The other killer?’
‘Yes, didn’t I say? At least two. I don’t think there were three. Come here.’ He pushed open the front door and walked into the kitchen with Strachan trailing after him. ‘See the window, this latch has been jimmied. Deep scratches on the green paintwork.’
‘But that could have been done before. Burglars aren’t uncommon in these new estates.’
‘But look around you, Strachan, the kitchen has been freshly painted, I’d say in the last month or so. And we mustn’t ignore these.’ Danilov pointed to a faint footprint on the sill of the kitchen window and an even fainter one on the floor beneath the window. He opened the back door and the plants had been trampled. ‘The rest of the back garden is spick and span, the plants well cared for, except here.’
‘Why didn’t Inspector Cowan spot these, sir?’
‘You ask me, and I ask who, Strachan?’
The detective constable shrugged his broad shoulders.
Danilov smiled and walked back out to the hallway. ‘As I was saying, the mother saw her son being killed and ran up the stairs. Our second killer comes out from the kitchen and shoots her in the back.’
He climbed the stairs and stepped across the chalk outline of the body on the landing. ‘That’s interesting.’ The door to a closet on the next level was open. Danilov went inside. A pile of freshly laundered sheets and towels were placed on the shelves. Another clean sheet lay in the corner as if discarded. ‘I wonder if the maid put these here?’
He came out of the closet and continued his explanation. ‘By now, the husband must have heard the shouts of his wife and the shot from the killer. But instead of running to save his wife and children, he runs upstairs. Why?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
‘Neither do I, Strachan. Neither do I. But we know the killers came up the stairs after him.’
‘How do you know he was in the bedroom, sir?’
‘See the photograph of his body, Strachan. This man is getting dressed to go out. His buttons are undone on his shirt and he’s wearing just one cufflink. He didn’t have time to put the other on before the killers arrived. What I don’t understand is why he was reading a book when he was just about to go out?’
Strachan peered closely at the photograph. ‘It’s a guide book, sir. Gow’s Guide to Shanghai 1924. Perhaps he was looking for an address?’
‘But Mr Lee was Chinese. Why would he need an English guide book written for tourists?’
‘True, sir, but what about the girl lying in bed, why didn’t she get up?’
‘That’s easy, Strachan.’ Danilov opened the door to the bedroom. The blood-covered bedclothes were still pulled back as they had been left by the mortuary attendants. ‘They didn’t even take the sheets away. Incompetence of the highest order.’
‘It looks like they weren’t really interested in doing a proper investigation, sir.’
‘An interesting observation, Strachan.’ He walked over to the bedside table and opened the drawer. Inside was an array of tablets and medicines that would have made a chemist happy.
‘She was ill, sir, that’s why she didn’t leave the bed.’
‘More than ill, I think, Strachan.’ He pointed to a pair of crutches and a wheelchair against the wall. ‘An invalid. Probably needed help to get out of bed. Makes me ask once again, where was the maid that evening, if our invalid needed constant help?’
‘I don’t know sir.’
‘Neither do I, Strachan. Anyway, let’s go up.’ He strode out of the room and up the stairs to the third floor. ‘Our man has run up here, not down to save his wife and his children. He knows the killers are after him. Is he running to hide or to escape?’ They reached the door of the bedroom on the third floor. It was open with the chalk outline of a body clearly visible near the window. ‘But he doesn’t lock it. The key is still in the lock. He runs instead into the room. They burst in, he runs to the window and they shoot him dead. One shot to the chest, another, the killing shot, to the centre of the head.’
‘Sounds like a professional, sir.’
‘Exactly, Strachan. Now look over there.’
In the wall opposite the window was a row of holes, spaced unevenly in the wall, breaking through in places to reveal the laths and the plaster.
‘That’s the work of our visitor today. He was obviously looking for something he thought was hidden in this room.’
‘I don’t think he found it, sir, he wasn’t carrying anything. I got a good look at his face, I’d recognise him again.’
‘Strachan, get the uniforms in and search this place properly. Before you do that, get a team to go through the house from top to bottom, fingerprints, everything. Make an imprint of the shoe in the kitchen. We have to start again where Cowan failed.’
‘Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Cowan is not going to be happy we are interfering in his case.’
‘Let me handle Inspector Cowan. This is still my patch.’ Danilov scratched his head. ‘One other thing. Why did the young boy open the door and let his killer into the house?’
‘He may have known his assailant, sir.’
‘Perhaps, Strachan, or there could be another reason. A thought has just occurred to me.’
‘Would you like to share it, sir?’
Danilov looked out of the window. ‘Not yet, Strachan. Not yet.’ He walked over and examined the holes in the wall.
‘Our man with the hammer has been busy. None of the other rooms have been searched or destroyed, just this one. I wonder why? What was he looking for? And why search in this room?’
‘Because that’s where Mr Lee ran, sir, after he heard the shots.’
‘That makes sense, Strachan. Our thug started to search here first. We interrupted him in his work.’
Danilov ran down the stairs to the next floor. He stood at the entrance to the girl’s bedroom. The blood-stained sheets still lay draped across the bed. The room had the faint tang of stale blood, a smell with just a hint of rust and salt.
Danilov whispered a Russian prayer under his breath.
‘What was that, sir?’
‘Nothing, Strachan. Why kill the girl?’
‘Perhaps she saw them, sir?’
‘But even then, no point in killing her. It was dark, their faces wouldn’t have been clear to her from her position in the bed.’
‘An invalid was no threat to them.’
Danilov pinched the skin on the bridge of his nose. ‘This was a professional job, Strachan. They wanted to leave no witnesses. And it wasn’t a robbery. Mrs Lee’s jewellery box is still in her bedroom untouched.’
‘So the motive wasn’t robbery?’
‘No,