“No,” Lesley replied. “Of course not. But there will be more that we need to know. Be prepared, you’ll be getting a call.”
Elsa grunted.
“Thanks for the warning,” she said, her voice laced with sarcasm. She turned and strode away, leaving Lesley to watch her retreat.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Tina stared at her screen, working through all the cases related to the Kelvin family. She’d dug through them every which way she knew, finding out all the information she could. This wasn’t her forte; as a PC she was more used to directing traffic and dealing with disturbances. She was still waiting for training to help her fit into the in-between role occupied by a PC working in CID.
The boss had been gone for over an hour now, but nobody had said anything. The atmosphere in the office was tense. The sarge and Johnny hadn’t spoken all morning, and Mike was working quietly at his desk, not wanting to get involved.
Tina leaned back, stretched her arms above her head and checked the time. Almost lunchtime.
“Anybody want a cuppa?” she said.
Mike nodded, his eyes on his screen, his shoulders hunched.
“Oh, shit,” he hissed.
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Look at this.”
Tina stood and went to Mike’s desk, glad to stretch her legs. The sarge and Johnny sat at their own desks, still looking into their computer screens, neither of them speaking.
On Mike’s screen was the local news, the local reporter Sadie Dawes. She was pretty, always immaculate regardless of where she was reporting from. Even now, standing on the beach at Boscombe Chine, her hair was in place and her jacket didn’t have a mark on it.
Mike pointed at the screen. “That’s the crime scene.”
Tina nodded. “Stands to reason they’d be reporting from a local murder scene.”
“Yeah, sorry.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know why I reacted like that.”
She shrugged. “That’s OK.” They were all tired.
The door to the office opened, and the DCI walked in. She strode towards her own office, not making eye contact.
The sarge looked up. He rose in his chair, about to speak to her. Then he spotted her dark expression and sat back down. Tina watched Johnny, whose eyes were on the sarge, his cheek twitching.
“Mike,” she whispered. “What’s going on with Johnny and the sarge?”
He shook his head, his gaze still on his screen. “Watch this,” he said. “Look.”
“What is it?”
“Shh.”
They huddled towards the screen, listening to Sadie’s report.
“As we reported yesterday, a prominent local solicitor was found dead here yesterday morning. We can now reveal that his body was pushed over the top of the cliff, and not dumped behind the beach huts. We can also reveal that this case is closely linked to another recent case on the Isle of Purbeck.”
The camera panned out to take in more of the beach. The police cordon had gone, the CSIs finished.
“The body found here yesterday,” Sadie continued, “was that of Harry Nevin, senior partner in local law firm Nevin, Cross and Short. A body found near Old Harry Rocks on Sunday was that of Ameena Khan, a junior partner in the same firm. Police have been investigating connections between the two crimes, and the possibility of a disgruntled client or colleague killing both lawyers. But we can now tell you exclusively that sources close to the investigation have informed us that Nevin was the chief suspect in the murder of Ameena Khan.”
Tina turned to Mike.
His mouth hung open. “Where’d they get that from?”
On the other side of the desks, the sarge stood up. “Turn it off. I don’t want you watching it.”
Mike looked up. “The killer will be watching this as well. We need to know what’s going on, what’s in the public eye.”
The door to the DCI’s office opened. She leaned out, her face red. “Everyone, get in here, now.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
The team hurried into Lesley’s office. Each one of them looked uneasy.
She paced between the desk and the board, her laptop turned round on the desk behind her. She’d frozen it at the end of the news report.
She continued pacing as she spoke.
“Close the door,” she snapped.
Johnny, standing at the back, did so.
She surveyed the team one by one, her body tense.
“I’ve just had a call from Detective Superintendent Carpenter.” She pointed towards the laptop screen. “Have you seen this?”
The team all nodded, their eyes lowered.
“How did they get hold of this?” She pointed to it again, wagging her finger. “Local news have got Nevin as chief suspect.” She stepped towards the team. “Who f… flippin’ well told them?”
Dennis shifted from one foot to the other. “We’ve only known about the DNA since yesterday.”
“To a journalist sniffing after a story, that’s years.” She slammed a fist on the desk. “Jesus Christ, local bloody news. They’re normally happy with school pantos and Yorkshire Terriers raising money for charity. They don’t have the skill to dig out evidence on a story like this.”
Lesley screwed her fist into the desk. Her neck was sore. She raised a hand to it, wincing.
She eyed her team. “Which means somebody told them.” She pursed her lips. “Sources close to the investigation. Did you hear that?”
Nobody spoke. Lesley waved her hand towards the laptop screen and repeated herself, louder. “Did you hear?”
More muttering.
She looked at each member of the team in turn. Dennis’s eyes were on the laptop screen, his hands at his sides, his fingers shifting against his trouser legs. Tina looked straight ahead, blinking, almost at attention. Mike, next to her, was more relaxed, but his expression was grave. Johnny, hovering at the back, had bright red cheeks. He scratched his neck and licked his lips.
“Who?” She shoved the laptop to one side and hauled herself up to sit on the desk. “Who told them?”
She looked between Johnny and Dennis. The two of them hadn’t spoken to each other all day. “Johnny? Dennis?” she snapped. “What is it with you two today? There’s something going on.”
“Nothing, boss,” said Dennis.
The two men exchanged glances. Reluctant smiles followed.
Johnny cleared his throat and shifted backwards, towards to the door. If he took another step, he would be outside the room. What was with him?
“Tina,” she said. “Mike? Anything you want to tell me?”
Both of them shook their heads. “No, Ma’am,” said Tina, her voice reedy.
“No, boss,” muttered Mike.
Lesley sucked in a breath. She gritted her teeth and slammed her feet against the front of the desk. Her fingers gripped its edge. She felt like she was full of lead. She wanted to haul them up to Carpenter with her. Let them face the music alongside her.
“Get out,” she said. “All of you.”
Johnny pulled the door open, relieved to be allowed out. She watched as he slunk back to his desk. Tina and Mike followed, exchanging glances as they sat down at their computers. Dennis stayed behind. He closed the door.
“I’ve worked with those guys for years,” he told her. “They wouldn’t do a thing like this.”
“You’ve worked with Johnny and Mike for years, what about Tina?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know her so well. But I think I know her well enough… she’s not the sort to do that. Look at her, she’s mortified.”
Lesley jumped down off the desk. Dennis took a step back.
“So why won’t Johnny look anyone in the eye?” she asked.
Dennis’s hand went to his specs, then dropped. “He’s got personal problems. I’m dealing with it, boss. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Personal problems? Nothing to do with the case?”
“No,” he replied, not returni
ng her gaze. “It’s just something he needs to get through. It’ll be fine.”
She grunted. “Tell him to sort himself out. Now go, I’ve got to get my arse dragged over the coals by the Super.”
“Boss.”
He looked down as he opened the door.
She stared at him. “And if you get even a sniff of one of them having done this, you tell me.”
“Yes, boss.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Lesley straightened her suit jacket. She pulled a mirror out of her bag and checked her makeup, poking at her lipstick.
She looked neat, respectable. It wasn’t enough, she knew.
She placed the mirror back in her bag and left her office, eyeing the team as she walked past. Dennis was watching Johnny, Mike and Tina were flicking glances between each other. Lesley said nothing as she passed them.
She hurried towards Carpenter’s office, forcing herself to slow down as she approached.
Breathe, she told herself. Calm down. She had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of.
She arrived at the door to his office and licked her lips. She squared her shoulders and knocked on the door.
“Come in!”
She opened the door and walked inside, her steps measured. She closed the door and stood in front of it. She didn’t dare sit down.
Carpenter sat on a sofa in the corner by the window. Another man sat beside him in an easy chair. He was solidly built with grey hair, and wore a chief superintendent’s badge on his shoulder.
Damn. Not the best of times for this introduction.
Carpenter looked up. “DCI Clarke,” he said.
“Sir.”
Lesley straightened her shoulders. She thought of the times she’d been called to a senior officer’s office back when she’d been in uniform, and how much more natural that felt. There was something about wearing a uniform that automatically made you stand to attention.
“This is Chief Superintendent Price,” Carpenter said.
Lesley nodded at the man. “Pleased to meet you, Sir.”
He gave her a lazy smile and put out his hand. She approached, bending over to shake it.
“You’re in trouble?” he said, a glint in his eye.
“Sir,” she replied. She’d never met this man and didn’t know how to respond.
He stood up, gave her a long look, and left the room. As he opened the door, he turned to Carpenter. “See you on Saturday afternoon, yes? Nine holes.”
“Surely eighteen,” Carpenter said.
“Nineteen would be better,” said Price.
The two men laughed. Carpenter’s laugh sounded thin.
Price closed the door and Carpenter rose from the sofa.
He looked at Lesley. “So,” he said. “Who is this source close to the investigation?”
She swallowed. “I don’t know, sir. But it isn’t one of my team.”
“How can you know that?”
“I’ve just spoken to them all. I can vouch for their integrity.”
“You’ve only been working with them for a month, Detective Chief Inspector.” He paced around her, his eyes on her face.
She stood still, staring ahead. She wasn’t going to let him rattle her.
“What about the CSIs?” he suggested.
Lesley blinked. “I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to them, sir. I wouldn’t know.”
“Hmm,” he said. “They’re not held to the same standards as police officers. There’s a chance one of them might have got chatting to a member of the public while they were at the crime scene.”
“I really don’t think Gail’s team would behave like that.”
He stopped pacing. “I’ll make some calls. We can’t have techs blowing their mouths off.”
She looked at him. “It’s alright, sir. I’ll speak to the crime scene manager.”
He shook his head. “Leave it with me, DCI Clarke.”
She nodded. “Is that all, Sir?”
“There’s another possibility,” he said. “It could be a witness. Is it in anybody’s interest to speak to the press? Somebody from the law firm, perhaps?”
She shook her head. “We haven’t informed any of the witnesses that we have a suspect for Ameena Khan’s murder.” But she didn’t know exactly what Dennis had discussed with the partners when he’d interviewed them.
“You check that,” Carpenter said. “Make sure they didn’t know. Follow it up with the journalist.”
“With respect, Sir,” she replied. “There’s not much I can do about the actions of the public.”
His expression hardened. “In that case, you tell your team to take more care in what they tell witnesses in future.”
“Sir.” Her back straightened.
“You’re dismissed,” he said.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Johnny picked up his phone as the DCI left the office. You didn’t work for fourteen years in CID without making contacts in the press.
Normally, he would discuss the call he was about to make with the sarge. But after last night…
Dennis would protect him, but Johnny was embarrassed. He was mortified. He wanted to scuttle under a rock and avoid it all. But he had to stay here, out in the open, ready to face up to what he’d done.
The phone rang out four times. Johnny was about to hang up when it was answered.
“Matt Crippins.”
“Matt,” he said. “Johnny Chiles here, Dorset Police.”
A laugh. “I wondered how long it would be before I got a call from you.”
“How are you, Matt?”
“Let’s not waste time on the pleasantries. You’re calling me about Sadie’s piece at lunchtime, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
Matt Crippins was the editor of local BBC news. He would know who Sadie’s source was.
“I imagine you know what I’m going to ask you,” Johnny said.
Another laugh. “You’re so predictable.”
Johnny smiled. “Who’s your source, Matt? Who told you about the suspect?”
A pause. “You know, we journalists like to protect our sources.”
“This is a murder inquiry. If somebody has been leaking information, we need to know why. Somebody killed Harry Nevin, possibly the same person who’s been talking to you.”
Matt scoffed. “I very much doubt it.”
Johnny leaned over his desk, cupping his hands around his phone. He had been talking in a low voice and he was confident nobody could hear. But once this call was over, he hoped he’d have something to reveal to the rest of the team.
“Come on, Matt,” he said. “Just between you and me.”
Matt would be weighing up his options, considering. There was always the possibility that Matt might be interviewed under caution. If so, he might be forced to reveal more information than if he did this informally.
The MCIT didn’t like cautioning journalists, they understood the need for a healthy relationship. Matt sometimes had information that helped Johnny identify suspects, and Johnny relied on the local press for witness appeals. So Johnny didn’t want to bring in the big guns, but he knew he could.
“Matt,” he said, “Are you going to tell me or will I have to speak to my bosses?”
Matt sucked in a breath. “Blimey, mate.”
“This is a double murder inquiry,” Johnny replied. “My job’s on the line.”
He waited.
“OK,” Matt said, finally. “If it helps you find your killer, I’m prepared to reveal my source for this one. But this is a favour between you and me, yeah? You owe me.”
Johnny nodded. He glanced at Dennis, who was peering at him.
He leaned back in his chair. “Go on, then,” he said to Matt. “Who was it?”
“It was one of the lawyers,” Matt replied. “From Nevin, Cross and Short. One of the partners.”
Johnny felt his pulse pick up.
“Aurelia Cross?” he asked. He hadn’t liked the woman when they’d intervi
ewed her. She seemed the sort who’d want to derail a police investigation.
“No,” Matt replied. “It was Elsa Short.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Lesley walked back slowly, her senses on fire. She hated Carpenter talking to her like that.
As she was about to turn the final corner towards the office, her phone rang.
“DCI Clarke.”
“Lesley, it’s Elsa.”
Lesley stopped walking. “It’s not a good time.”
“I need to talk to you about something.”
Lesley clenched her fists. “I’m in the middle of a murder inquiry.”
Lesley thought of the mood Elsa had been in when they’d met earlier. She didn’t want to do this over the phone.
“Have you seen the local news?” Elsa asked.
Lesley stopped walking. “Of course I’ve seen the bloody local news. That’s what I’m in the middle of.” She felt the skin tingle on her back. “Why are you calling me about it?”
“It was me,” Elsa said.
Lesley’s jaw fell open. “Wait.”
She hurried to the stairs and clattered down to the ground floor. She left the building through the front entrance and walked around to the side, the spot in which she’d spoken to Dennis yesterday.
When she was out of sight of the car park she pressed her phone to her ear. “What was you?” she asked Elsa.
“The leak, Lesley. I told them.”
“Why?”
“I can’t talk about this on the phone.”
Lesley ran her hands down the brickwork behind her. She dug her nail in, feeling the pressure through her fingertips.
“Tell me, Elsa. Why?”
Elsa said nothing.
Lesley leaned her head back and banged it against the brick. “Elsa, words of one syllable. Please, I deserve an explanation.”
“I want to leave the firm.”
“So?” Lesley replied. “Hand in your resignation.”
“It’s not as simple as that.”
“Why not?”
Lesley thought about the atmosphere she’d observed at Nevin, Cross and Short. Busy people getting on with their day. There’d been no tension. Harry Nevin had been a bit of a shit. But apart from that…
The Clifftop Murders (Dorset Crime Book 2) Page 18