‘It’s still on-going, Guv,’ shouted a voice towards the back of the room.
‘Have we notified the Civil Aviation Air Traffic Control Centre at Swanwick yet?’ Vincent challenged back, all too aware of the formal procedure in these situations.
‘We didn’t need to, Guv,’ replied the raspy male voice. ‘The local tower at Eastleigh had already been in touch with them in the run up to the incident.’
He nodded his understanding. ‘So have they given any indication of what happened yet?’
‘Guv?’ interrupted a female voice near the front of the group. ‘It hasn’t been confirmed if we need to do any further criminal investigation yet. All we know is that the flight came down after experiencing some kind of engine trouble.’
‘Engine trouble?’
‘That’s what they’ve claimed,’ replied Detective Constable Kim Stewart.
‘And nobody was injured in the incident?’
‘No souls perished, Guv,’ she replied smiling.
Vincent’s eyes narrowed, ‘So what you are telling me is that we know a plane crashed through the safety fence at Southampton airport on Thursday night, allegedly due to engine trouble, and that nobody was seriously injured?’
‘A few bumps and bruises but nothing more,’ smiled Kim, pleased to have presented the facts coherently.
‘People, people, people,’ Vincent barked. ‘Are we letting SKY News do all our investigation for us? So far, you’ve not told me any more than I learned watching the television yesterday! Have we even spoken with the pilot yet? Or interviewed any of the passengers?’
‘We haven’t been able to, Guv,’ replied Kim, a little quieter and with a pink tint growing in her cheeks. ‘Officially the AAIB are still undertaking checks on the aircraft to understand what happened. So far, they have not confirmed that either the pilot or co-pilot were negligent so we aren’t in a position to be speaking to the passengers.’
‘But surely you’ve asked to interview the pilots?’ he fired back angrily.
‘We were told there was no need. Until the AAIB conclude that something other than the aircraft caused the accident, that there is nothing further we are required to do.’
He gazed around the room, each time that he made eye contact with one of the team, they instantly looked down or away.
‘What else have we got?’ he eventually asked, shaking his head in disbelief.
‘The shooter at IPSA has been identified as one Daniel Paul Simpson, a resident of North Baddesley, Guv,’ offered another voice, this one belonging to D.C. Oliver Capshaw.
‘Have we got a motive yet?’
‘He was married with one kid,’ Capshaw reported. ‘We spoke to his manager at work who said that he had been demoted in the last six months, so revenge is a possible angle we could follow up.’
‘Did he leave any note to explain his actions? Maybe a video recording?’
‘No, Guv, nothin’. When we spoke to his widow she said it was a total shock; she was adamant it wasn’t in his nature to be so violent.’
‘And we believe her?’ asked Vincent cautiously.
‘Yes, Guv.’
‘Is there anything about him on file?’
‘He was arrested a couple of months ago for a public disorder offence but escaped with a warning. Other than that, he is as clean as a whistle.’
‘Financial records?’
‘We’re still pulling those together, Guv,’ stated another voice, this one, Beth Taylor, a young uniform, called in to support the investigation. ‘Should have an update for you by lunchtime.’
‘Do we really think revenge is likely? You said he was demoted six months ago? Surely he would have acted sooner?’
‘Not necessarily, Guv,’ replied Beth, pitching in for Capshaw. ‘If he mulled it over a while it might have taken several months before he snapped.’
‘Did the manager give any indication of his mood prior to Friday?’
‘They were due to have a one-to-one review meeting this week as it goes,’ replied Capshaw. ‘The manager admitted he hadn’t spoken to Simpson for a few weeks. We did speak to one of his team who suggested he had seemed stressed about something, but she was unsure what.’
‘Did the widow mention that he had seemed stressed?’
‘Err…no, Guv,’ replied Capshaw looking at some notes he had made. ‘She described him as “distant” but that was all. She was pretty cut up over the news, Guv, so I’ll probably pop back to see her in a day or so and follow up.’
‘Good,’ replied Vincent. ‘What have we got on our terrorist friend then?’
‘He’s still refusing to speak, Guv,’ said Kyle Davies from near the back of the room. Vincent hadn’t spotted him earlier and wasn’t certain that he hadn’t just sneaked into the room. ‘He hasn’t even asked for legal aid yet.’
‘Have we identified who he is?’
‘He had no identification on his person when we brought him in. We’ve sent his picture to the two universities to see if he is a student of some kind, but no response yet. I was going to suggest we stick his picture in the local paper, see if anyone comes forward with information.’
Vincent nodded, ‘Good. Get onto the media relations team and see if we are okay to run the photo.’
‘Will do, Guv,’ Davies replied.
‘Right, ladies and gents, this is how I want us to run: we will use this room as the hub for all three cases; there’s plenty of space. I want D.S. Pearce to run as Office Manager. He will be lead point for the HOLMES and Disclosures team. You comfortable with that Andy?’
A grunt from the crowd followed.
HOLMES is a computer system used to record intelligence relevant to the enquiry as it is discovered. It is a well-developed system that, when used correctly, can help detectives identify links in their evidence.
‘Good. Where’s Rob Jones?’
A hand was raised.
‘Rob, I want you to be our statement reader as usual, Kieran, you can input everything into HOLMES and Terry, you will look after Disclosures. Andy will make sure you get what you need. Terry, I want you to act as Exhibits Officer as well, as it makes sense for you to do both. Okay?’
Another grunt from the crowd.
‘As for the rest of you, I want you in three teams, each to take one of the cases. I want one D.S. to head up each team with three D.C.’s each. I’ll maintain oversight of each team. So, Jarvis, Smith and Barrett, you work with Brian Hodgkinson. Barnes, Taylor and Capshaw, you’ll be with Roger Gillespie, That leaves Stewart, Murphy and Wright with the hero of the hour, Kyle Davies. Brian’s team can focus on the plane crash, Roger’s team on our shooter and Kyle’s team on our terrorist. Any questions?’
This was met with a general rumble of consent as the group dispersed into their new teams.
‘Guv, the D.C.I is on the phone, she wants to see you in the next hour. She’s free from ten.’ shouted Taylor, phone in hand.
Vincent nodded as he strode purposefully back to his office; it felt good to be back at work.
17
Vincent was sitting at his desk when there was a knock at the door. Looking up he saw it was Kyle Davies and ushered him in.
‘Morning, Guv,’ he said smiling. ‘How you feeling?’
‘A bit of indigestion, but otherwise good. You?’
‘On top of the world,’ he said, beaming like a Cheshire cat.
Vincent considered him for a moment before asking what he was so happy about. Davies glanced around to check nobody was in earshot.
‘I am going to be a father,’ he smiled. ‘Megan told me yesterday. We were due to be going out for dinner on Saturday night before everything kicked off. Because I got called in with you, we had to postpone that plan, but she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer and burst out with the news last night. I am over the moon right now, Guv.’
‘Congratulations,’ he offered. ‘Was it planned?’
Vincent was not renowned for his tact in delicate situations, but Davies didn�
�t seem to notice as he confirmed that they had been talking about starting a family but hadn’t been actively trying. Vincent really didn’t know what to say, having no children of his own.
‘I’m pleased for you, Kyle. Looks like that promotion came along at the right time.’
‘Yeah,’ Davies acknowledged before adding, ‘I appreciate you putting me forward for the exam.’
Vincent waved the gratitude away with a hand.
‘Listen, Guv,’ Davies continued sheepishly. ‘It’s still early days. The doctor said it’s only been ten weeks so there is still a chance that things could…well you know…go wrong? It’s bad luck or something to formally announce these things before the twelve week scan so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to the others. Not yet anyway.’
‘No, no,’ Vincent reassured him. ‘I understand, I’ll keep my mouth shut, don’t worry.’
‘That’s why Megan wanted to go to town on Saturday, you see? We’d popped in to hit the sales before going for the meal where she broke the news. How come you were there?’
‘Where?’ asked Vincent absently.
‘West Quay, Guv. You don’t strike me as the sort to go fighting through the January sales.’
‘Oh…I was err…meeting someone…a friend,’ Vincent replied cautiously.
Picking up on his boss’ reluctance to share the true nature of his presence in the shopping centre, Davies pushed him more.
‘Just meeting for lunch were you?’
‘That’s right,’ Vincent replied awkwardly.
‘Male friend? Female friend?’
‘That’s none of your damn business, Davies!’ Vincent admonished.
The young Sergeant held up his hands in mock surrender and claimed he was just watching out for his boss’ wellbeing.
‘If you must know,’ Vincent continued, checking that the door to the office was closed. ‘I was meeting a lady friend…well at least I was supposed to be. She didn’t show up.’
‘You were on a date?’ Davies asked.
Jack Vincent didn’t have anyone he could really call a friend. He had plenty of acquaintances and colleagues that he could share a beer with, but nobody that he would define as a best friend. He had been in desperate need to chat through his worries with someone for some time but had been unable to do so. Whilst he didn’t consider Davies a friend, he did know the young copper was trustworthy and so decided to come clean.
‘I joined an internet dating site,’ Vincent said, before scribbling something on a piece of paper in front of him, hoping to glaze over the statement.
‘Good for you,’ Davies replied, smiling warmly, surprised yet touched by his boss’ willingness to disclose such a private matter with him. It was not the response Vincent had expected.
‘You don’t think it is pathetic?’
‘Not at all, Guv,’ Davies replied. ‘My brother met his wife through one of those sites. I forget which one it was. He went on half a dozen dates before he met her, but he’s never looked back. I don’t think it’s anything to be ashamed of Guv.’
Vincent was relieved that Davies seemed so accepting of his choice.
‘Who was this woman you were meeting then?’ Davies continued.
‘Her name is Helen,’ he replied. ‘She works in a solicitor’s office in Bournemouth but was travelling up to meet with me. She had reserved the table for midday but she never showed up. I suppose she got cold feet or something.’
‘Or maybe she turned up and scarpered when she got a look at you,’ Davies joked, but instantly regretted it when he saw the hurt expression on Vincent’s face. ‘I was just kidding, Guv,’ he added. ‘Probably her train got delayed, and then when she reached the centre, the doors were already locked.’
‘Maybe,’ he mumbled. The truth was he had spent yesterday wondering whether she had taken off when she had seen what he looked like in person. Hearing Davies suggest the same thing had struck a chord.
‘Has she not been in touch?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I sent her an email yesterday but haven’t heard back yet. I don’t want to appear too needy so I don’t want to keep chasing her. I’m not sure what to do.’
Davies considered the predicament for a moment before concluding, ‘Probably best to leave it a day or so and then send her another email. Or phone her. Have you got her number?’
‘I have a mobile number for her,’ he replied, ‘but I am reluctant to phone it.’
‘What’s the worst thing that could happen, Guv?’ Davies asked honestly. ‘If she isn’t interested, it’s better to know sooner rather than later in my opinion. And if she doesn’t want to meet, you can just move onto the next one.’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ he said, eager to change the subject.
‘Listen, Guv, I don’t mean to pry, and by all means tell me to sod off and mind my own business, but are you alright?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Vincent replied defensively. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘I’m sorry, Guv, it’s just…you don’t look too good. You’re sweating pretty badly and your face looks quite pale.’
‘Just a bit of a heavy night,’ Vincent replied, trying to laugh off the nausea he was again feeling. ‘I’ll pop some painkillers in a bit and I’ll be right as rain.’
Davies eyed him and then reluctantly acknowledged his boss’ response.
‘You’re not worried about your court appearance next week, are you?’
‘No,’ Vincent replied. ‘It should be quite straight forward. I’ve given evidence in court hundreds of times, and this won’t be any different.’
‘With respect, Guv, you’ve never had to give evidence at the trial of someone as powerful as Nicolai Stratovsky before.’
Davies shivered as he said the name. The arrest of the head of the Russian Mafia in the UK had been well documented in all of the tabloids, as had the apparent attempts to interfere with witnesses for the prosecution.
‘My part in Stratovsky’s trial is minor, Kyle. It was Ali Jacobs who played a pivotal role in bringing him to justice. Her work undercover in D.C.I. Martin Saunders’ SOCO has proved to be valuable intelligence. It’s still hard to believe that both she and Saunders are dead.’
‘Exactly, Guv. That should show you just what the bastard is capable of.’
‘I’m not worried, Kyle. I’ve got a meeting with a barrister in London tomorrow to review my testimony, and I am sure it will all go well. Speaking of which, I’m going to be tied up with the case for the next couple of days. I want you to lead the investigation into our bomber friend if you’re up for it?’
‘Lead, Guv? I’d be delighted to.’
‘I know you’ve not had your stripes for long, Kyle, but I believe you have the potential to make a great officer one day. I want you to get used to leading enquiries, and then, who knows, one day, all this could be yours,’ Vincent added waving his arm around the office.
‘Cheers, Guv,’ replied Davies standing. ‘I’ll crack on with it now. You coming back out in a bit?’
Vincent nodded and as soon as Davies had turned and left, he grabbed the waste paper basket and threw up again.
*
Vincent emerged from his office ten minutes later and moved over to where Beth Taylor was hunched over a computer.
‘How we getting on, Beth?’ he asked perching on the edge of her desk.
‘Hi, Guv,’ she began when she noticed him. ‘I’ve managed to access his bank account and mortgage statements so far, just waiting on his credit cards.’
‘And?’
‘And…nothing out of the ordinary so far to be honest. Mortgage is for two hundred thousand, interest-only but no defaulted payments. It’s got another fifteen years to run so I would assume he has some kind of other investment to pay off the capital, not that I’ve found one yet. His account is a grand overdrawn but that’s within his limit. The joint account too is five hundred quid overdrawn but again, within its limit, just about.’
‘Any unusual paymen
ts in or out of the accounts?’
‘Nothing suspicious that I can see at the moment, but I’ve only skim read last month’s statement so far. There are a couple of medium-value withdrawals in the statement I’ve looked at.’
‘How much are we talking and how frequent?’
‘Nothing major, a couple of hundred quid here and there but it’s something to follow up on.’
‘What’s your gut telling you, Beth?’
‘Possibly our shooter had a drug problem? The amounts and frequency could tie up with purchasing narcotics.’
‘Did the widow mention a drug problem?’
‘I don’t believe so but I can ask Capshaw to raise the question when he sees her later?’
‘That would be good, Beth, but can you do it? Capshaw can be a bit…well, you know…blunt. You go along with him and follow the drug angle. Also, see if you can poke around the property, in case there is anything there.’
‘Understood, Guv,’ she nodded.
‘Good, do we have our shooter’s timeline for the day covered yet?’
‘I believe Capshaw and Gillespie are working on it at the moment.’
Vincent told Beth to keep up the good work and moved across to where Capshaw and Detective Sergeant Roger Gillespie were standing by a flipchart.
‘Lads,’ Vincent said to catch their attention. ‘Tell me what we know about our shooter’s morning.’
‘Right, Guv,’ Gillespie began. ‘We’ve been watching the CCTV footage outside the IPSA building, and he can be seen approaching the building from the direction of the pathway that leads down behind the BBC building, at about eight twenty six. We have checked the footage at the train station and he wasn’t seen to pass through the turnstiles at any point, so we’ve ruled that out. There are a number of bus routes that congregate near the train station so that’s an angle we’ll look into. He lived in North Baddesley, and assuming that is where he woke up, the Blue Star ‘Number-4’ bus would take him from North Baddesley, through Rownhams, Lordshill, Shirley and then into town. I know some buses have CCTV cameras installed for the driver’s protection, so we’ll talk to Blue Star in a bit and see if they can give us anything.’
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