by Jay Nadal
Helen nodded slowly as she reflected on Abby’s observations.
“So what was it like over in Cambridgeshire?”
“It was a pretty big set-up, to be honest. We were part of MCU, the major crime unit which brought together CID from Beds, Cambridgeshire and Herts. There were about one hundred and seventy of us working across the three counties working on serious crimes. It was a real eye-opener as we had a big patch too, and had to work with colleagues all over the place. We basically had two teams headed up by DCIs. One was based at Cambridgeshire HQ in Huntingdon and the other at Hertfordshire HQ in Welwyn Garden City.”
“Yes, that does sound impressive. Good for you. Well, we’re looking forward to your contribution to the team. It’s a pretty close-knit one, and there’s lots of banter between us. And to be honest you can’t get a better guv than the one we’ve got. But don’t tell him that I told you so. He’s already got a big enough ego.” Abby smiled.
“Thanks, Skip. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind the last few weeks, and I’ve certainly had to hit the ground running, but I’m looking forward to the challenge.”
14
Scott felt satiated as he sat back in his chair. His stomach groaned from the large lunch he’d just eaten. He regretted having the portion of fries to go with his panini. That had always been his downfall. His eyes had always been bigger than his belly.
He began to flick through the dozens of emails that sat unopened in his inbox. Memos, circulars, police federation updates, annual leave requests together with email updates from forensics and the HOLMES team, which left his inbox creaking at the seams. If there was one thing he hated about his job, it would be the admin and endless round of meetings. The sad fact was the higher he progressed up the promotional ladder, the more it took him away from what he loved most, and that was serving the public.
The boredom of flicking through emails was thankfully interrupted by Mike’s heavy-handed knock on his open door.
“Have you got minute, Guv?”
Scott flicked his head to invite him in. “What’s up?”
“We had a call come through earlier from an ex-girlfriend of Freddie Coltrane. She’s been aware of the increased police presence on campus, which included us making our enquiries on East Slope. She said she’d been meaning to call us for a few days, but she was just too frightened.”
“Go on.”
“Her name’s Yana Melnik, from the Ukraine. Her story seems to tally with the consensus about Freddie in so far as he’s a bit of pervert. She said she was scared of him. One minute he was really nice, and as soon as he’d had a skinful, he’d turn really nasty.” Mike scanned his notes before continuing, “When she said he turned really nasty, she really meant it. Yana said his sex games were violent, degrading, and it terrified the shit out of her.”
Scott made his own notes, as he jotted down the keywords – violent, degrading, sex games.
“That’s just for starters, Guv. He wanted to mark her with a knife as well as cut himself. He told her that he wanted them to share each other’s blood. She sounded really shaky on the phone, Guv. She started rambling on about how he wanted to experience pain both in terms of giving and receiving.”
In Scott’s mind, Freddie had been catapulted to the top of the suspect list. It wasn’t unknown for couples in certain circles to experience a certain type of sexual and physical humiliation. In fact, there was a whole underground scene to indulge such proclivities. But such activities were conducted between two consenting adults. This, on the other hand, piqued Scott’s interest. It was becoming clear that Freddie’s sexual perversions weren’t a welcomed addition to the relationships that he’d had.
“Okay, good work, Mike. I would normally say that you and Abby go to interview Yana, but I think on this occasion she may feel more at ease talking to two female officers. I’ll get Abby and Helen to interview her.” Scott was about to continue when Meadows strode into Scott’s office.
Mike looked between Meadows and Scott, sensing the silent tension between them and hurriedly made his excuses and left.
“Sir?”
Meadows closed the door behind him and took a seat opposite Scott. He straightened his tie and then focused on picking off imaginary flecks of dust from his trousers as he crossed his legs. He seemed in no hurry as he flexed his management muscle by controlling the pace of the meeting to suit him.
“This ongoing investigation is aptly crucial for our team and the station as a whole. There’s a lot riding on this case, especially after recent events…” Meadows allowed that thought to hang in the air, and to reiterate the scrutiny Scott was under. “We think it would be a good idea to put Helen undercover on campus.”
The suggestion startled Scott, his eyes widening in shock. Meadows had come up with some stupid suggestions in the past, but in Scott’s eyes, he’d outdone himself on this hair-brained idea. “If I’m honest, I don’t think it’s necessary at the moment. The investigation has only just begun, and we’re going through all of our initial lines of enquiry.”
“I appreciate that Scott, but it’s been agreed with the vice-chancellor and the vice-chancellor executive group at the university. We feel that it would be beneficial for our investigation to have a set of eyes in amongst it all.”
Since when had it become our investigation, Scott thought.
“With all due respect, Sir, I think I should have been consulted about this first. After all, she is a member of my team, a new member of my team. She’s still relatively young, and inexperienced. Putting someone undercover is not a decision we can take lightly. Undercover ops should only be used as a last resort.”
“That may be so, Scott, but you’re missing the point. We’ve got a large campus population and we have female students who’ve been attacked. We now have a female who as it stands is probably the missing student, murdered, and what we want to avoid is mass hysteria. Clearly, the university is concerned about their reputation. The last thing they want is female students being put off from applying because they’re fearing for their fucking safety. Think about it, Scott. She’s ideal. She’s new to the area so that in itself allows her to be quite naïve. She is young and attractive. In my opinion, she would fit in well, and Helen would have a better chance of identifying any intelligence better than anyone else on the team.”
Scott was treading a fine line between insubordination and following instructions. He shook his head in disagreement, but he knew to a certain extent that his hands were tied. The eyes of the force were clearly on him. Whether he wished to be part of it or not, Meadows was playing a game of cat and mouse with him. He was tempting Scott to step out of his comfort zone, and make a mistake that would no doubt spell the end of his career.
Meadows stood slowly and stretched into the vertical position. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and dropped his head to one side. “She goes in tomorrow, Scott. Brief her; get her ready. No doubt she will jump at the chance. And I’m more than happy to have a chat with her myself. I could tell her about what an excellent opportunity this will be for her.”
Scott watched Meadows as he sauntered out of his office. Scott’s eyes bored down heavily into the man’s back, a mixture of rage and frustration simmering deep inside him. He hated being anyone’s puppet, but Meadows had a knack of gnawing deep into Scott’s psyche and bringing out the worst in him. Scott sat for a few moments with his head in his hands. The decision that Meadows had made sat uncomfortably with him. He would have thought twice, maybe even three times before sending in an experienced officer like Mike or Abby. Every one of his senses screamed that this was a bad idea.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, gather around,” Scott announced as he walked over towards the incident board. His emotions threatened to overwhelm his rationality as he fought to find the right words to explain the decision he’d just been given with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. His eyes travelled from one face to another, his team looking back with a mixture of inquisitiveness and impatience. He paced slowly
back and forth at the incident board, as he waited for his anger to simmer down.
“Guv, are you okay?” Abby asked, sensing that all was not well with Scott.
“First things first. Mike, can you arrange a formal search for tomorrow morning of Freddie Coltrane’s room on campus? We want that place torn apart. Secondly, Detective Superintendent Meadows has been in discussions with the vice-chancellor of the university. It was felt that in order to speed up the investigation and help us to gather intelligence, it would make sense for an officer to go undercover on campus.”
The team exchanged glances of confusion. It seemed an unusual request to many of them.
Sensing the bewilderment, Scott elaborated. “I know, I know. You’re probably wondering why. But we’re not here to challenge decisions made by senior officers.” Scott looked in Helen’s direction prior to continuing, “It was felt that Helen would be best placed to go on a short surveillance operation on campus. Let’s be frank, you’re the youngest out of all of us and so you probably have the best possible chance of mingling and blending in.”
Helen’s eyes widened in surprise, her bottom jaw dropped in consternation. The news took everyone by surprise.
“Guv, I’m not entirely sure that’s a wise decision,” Abby offered.
“Your concern is taken on board and is duly warranted. But the decision has been taken, and our job going forward is to support Helen as best as we can. She will be our eyes on campus.”
Scott pulled up a chair and sat opposite his team. “Helen, how do you feel about this? I know this probably isn’t what you expected, and you’ve been thrown in at the deep end from day one. Listen, I’d fully understand if you have reservations and concerns. And if you’re really worried about them, then we can go and speak to the Governor.”
The team sat in an eerie silence waiting for her response. Helen looked down at the floor as her eyes flicked from side to side processing the request. Any thoughts of this being an easy and laid-back posting were fast vanishing from her mind. A mixture of trepidation, fear and excitement swirled around inside. A part of her itched to get stuck into the hard end of the job, but tracking down a potential murderer wasn’t something she’d bargained for.
“I have to admit, Guv, it wasn’t something I was expecting in my first week in a new post. But if it needs to be done, then it needs to be done. I won’t lie to you. I’m shitting myself, but I don’t want to let the team down,” she said as she played with her fingers.
Scott nodded sympathetically. Helen had taken a brave decision. The next few days would determine whether it had been a wise or foolish one.
15
Edinburgh Road was off the Lewes Road. A typical, non-descript narrow street close to the University of Brighton main campus. The road, together with its neighbouring streets, was the heart of private student accommodation. Endless rows of terraced, dirty white or cream, drab houses with little to no frontage spilt out onto the pavement. With accommodation at a premium in such a popular coastal town, landlords and investors in their droves had eagerly turned cheap, affordable housing into multi-occupancy student residences.
It was a congested street at the best of times. With cars double-parked either side, it made driving unbearable during peak travelling times. The council had turned the street into a one-way road to ease the flow of traffic.
After knocking a few times to make sure no one was home, he leant into the door to test how securely it had been fastened. The door moved and rattled in its frame as he leant his shoulder in a few times. This was going to be easier than he had thought. He checked once again that the coast was clear, and then took one step back and shoulder-charged the door. The simple Yale latch offered little resistance as it surrendered. The brittle door frame crumbled as he pushed through into the hallway.
The well-worn beech laminate floor was scuffed and marked through years of neglect as each year group of students had passed through. A discarded pile of assorted shoes, boots and trainers lay behind the door. A coat rail appeared to hold up far more coats and jackets than it was designed for.
He casually glanced into the communal lounge and noticed the cereal bowls that hadn’t been cleaned up after the morning rush. Empty cans of Red Bull, Fanta and Coke were left behind on the table, and by the sofa. He shook his head in disgust at the level of untidiness. His sharp sense of smell worked overtime, much to his frustration. They clearly hadn’t understood the concept of ventilation as a cloying, stale stench hung in the air, and assaulted his nostrils.
The prospect of the rest of the house being cleaner was soon squashed as he picked his way through towards the kitchen and the bathroom beyond. With small terraced houses, the bathroom was often found behind the kitchen. With the need for them to be converted into student accommodation, invariably one of the bedrooms upstairs would be compromised to squeeze in a small shower room and added toilet.
He turned up his nose at the squalor in the kitchen. Breadcrumbs scattered the kitchen work surface. Packets of cheap cornflakes and Rice Krispies sat where the occupants had left them. He rolled his eyes when he saw the pile of tea-stained mugs sat in the sink, waiting for one of the students to volunteer for cleaning duties.
The upstairs didn’t fare much better as he moved from bedroom to bedroom. Discarded clothes sat in random piles on the floor. Textbooks and notepads lay on tables as if they had just been emptied out of rucksacks. Curtains hadn’t been opened in any of the rooms to let the brilliant summer sunshine stream in.
He was tempted to run his finger along the bedside cabinet in the room that he was in. The sight of thick grey dust made him think otherwise. “Disgusting, filthy animals,” he muttered. He shot his hands in his pockets again, desperate to avoid picking up any contamination. Who knows when this place was last cleaned, I should have brought my bleach cleaning wipes or at least a pair of rubber gloves, he thought.
This wasn’t the bedroom he needed. It clearly belonged to a male, so he continued to move through the upper floor until he found the room he needed. He was certain that this was her room. Passport-sized photographs of her with another friend were pinned above her desk. As he looked through each shot, he noticed they were taking it in turn to pull silly faces. He glanced at a framed picture of her cuddling her dog called Sophie from back home, how cute, two bitches in the same photograph.
He pulled out each drawer one at a time as he rifled through the contents. The top drawer held a mixture of super dry and New Look T-shirts that seemed to be a favourite essential of her wardrobe. The second drawer was the one that excited him the most. An assortment of functional and skimpy underwear were nestled in an untidy pile. He scooped them up using both hands and pulled them close to his nose. With his eyes closed, he slowly inhaled taking in the intoxicating fragrance of freshly laundered underwear that carried a hint of femininity. It stirred feelings within him that sent his mind into an uncontrollable dizziness as shivers raced through his body. Despite standing in the midst of summer heat, fine hairs on his arms stood up as he experienced sensory overload.
He kept his eyes clamped shut because opening them would take him away from his nirvana. His cock twitched in appreciation. Everything he felt for her intensified tenfold as he pulled out one particular delicate lacy number and studied the intricacy of the lace patterning.
He pictured her wearing them, and how the delicate triangular piece of fabric would hide her luscious, pink, moist lips from him. Not for long my darling. “You’re a fine woman beneath those tatty jeans and skinny tops that you wear. You hide your beauty so well. But I know how much you like to take care of yourself. What a treat you offer any man fortunate enough to worship your body. You are indeed a thing of beauty. It’s a shame so many don’t like your type. But then again, it just means that you’ve been saving yourself for me, and what I’m about to experience with you.”
He placed her underwear back in the drawer. He didn’t need to take any souvenirs when he’d be getting her as his main prize. A hairbr
ush offered everything he was looking for. He pulled a handful of hair from amongst the bristles and held the twisted mess delicately in the palm of one hand. He brought them up to his nose and inhaled softly. Her smell, her unique smell, allowed him to take her in one more time.
With the ball of hair neatly tucked into a small plastic specimen bottle, he poked his head out into the street to make sure the coast was clear. The door closed easily and quietly within its broken frame as he slowly walked away.
He leant up against the wall of a house at the top of the road and flipped open his newspaper. Now all he had to do was wait, since it wouldn’t be long.
His patience was rewarded less than thirty minutes later when he saw her loom into view. He looked down to appear engrossed in his paper, but his eyes flicked up over the top to watch her turn into the road. She was oblivious to the people and environment around her like most of her age. She was engrossed in her own world, distinctive white earplugs nestled in each ear which no doubt listened to a song with dreadful lyrics.
He tutted to himself as the loud screaming from ear buds drifted into his awareness as she walked past him. How anyone could listen to that he could never understand. They’ve never played that shit on Smooth Radio, he reassured himself.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled with excitement as he watched her momentarily pause by her front door. He watched as confusion robbed her of her faculties as she glanced up and down the road. A mixture of inquisitiveness and fear made her take one step forward before taking another step back, indecisiveness stopping her.
Using one hand, she gently pushed open the door as the other hand pulled the earplugs. He could see her mouth moving, but couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he guessed that she was probably shouting to see if anyone was inside. A warm, smug grin spread as he watched her bravery.