Evil in Return Read Free

up at Donovan, catching his reflection momentarily in her Wayfarers. ‘It’s looking like a professional hit, single shot to the head, point blank range. He’s been tied up at some point and he was probably killed somewhere out here then dumped in the crypt. What time do the gates shut?’
    ‘Eight p.m. at this time of year.’
    ‘If the builders locked up around four, that gives the killer four hours when the cemetery is still open. But this place is crawling with people during the day, it’s far too risky. My gut feeling is that whatever went on, happened after hours, when it was dark. So – based on Arabella’s guesstimate for time of death – we’re talking about last night. What’s the locking up procedure?’
    ‘An outside security firm is responsible for opening up in the morning and securing the gates at night. It’s basically a couple of men in a van. I have the name of the company.’
    ‘I want a check on all personnel on duty and their routine over the last couple of weeks. What’s security like?’
    ‘What you’d expect. It’s a cemetery. The Parks Police patrol about two to three times a week during daylight hours, but there’s nobody at night. The guy who looks after the place lives in a flat over the north gate and says he’d hear if anyone tried to break in. There are CCTV cameras on both the Fulham Road and Brompton Road entrances, linked to a remote recorder. The memory’s good for fifteen days and I’ve sent someone for the hard drive.’
    He nodded. ‘What else?’
    ‘The railings on either side of the gates are about twenty feet high, but people have been known to climb them. You know . . .’ She gave a meaningful shrug. ‘Beats me . . .’
    ‘Yes, quite. They must be desperate.’ He looked down at the map. ‘Is there any other way in?’
    ‘You’ve got houses all along here and here, apart from the entrance gate,’ she said, indicating the eastern and southern perimeters.
    ‘Couldn’t someone climb over the back wall from one of the houses?’
    ‘Too high. I’ve checked.’
    ‘What about from the railway?’
    ‘The tracks are right below and there’s a very big drop. There are a couple of access doors that lead down to the railway, but they’ve both been checked. They’re jammed shut and there’s no sign of either of them having being opened in donkey’s years.’
    ‘What about the offices and the chapel?’
    ‘All locked, and alarmed at night.’
    While puzzling it over, he saw Tracy Jamieson half jogging, half running towards them.
    ‘What is it?’ he called out.
    ‘We’ve got something,’ she said, as she came over to them. ‘God, this heat . . . These fucking suits . . . I can’t cope.’ She fanned her face, which was now bright pink, and wiped a stray wisp of dark hair from her glistening forehead. ‘The main gates on the Fulham Road . . . they’re open every day, but the pedestrian gates on either side . . . they keep them padlocked. Always. They’re still chained, but one of the padlocks looked newer than the other . . . so we checked the keys in the office. The one the keeper has . . . for the right-hand gate . . . it doesn’t fit.’
    ‘So, somebody’s changed the padlock,’ Tartaglia said. Jamieson nodded. ‘At least we now know how he got in,’ he continued. ‘Although it doesn’t explain much else.’
    He thought of the missing padlock from the crypt door and the chain left casually lying on the ground where it would be seen. Either the killer had been disturbed before he had a chance to replace it or, more likely, he had meant for the body to be found and had left the chain to draw attention to the crypt.
    ‘When was the pedestrian gate last used?’
    ‘Ages ago,’ she said, still drawing deep breaths. ‘Months, at least, according to the keeper.’
    Tartaglia looked at Donovan. ‘Thought you said there’s a camera on that gate?’
    ‘That’s what I was told.’
    ‘Well, hopefully it should show us what happened – if