“So… any big cases?”
“Well, there’s Magpie. The New Street bomber investigation. Before that there was ACC Jackson’s death, but I assume you knew about that.”
“Of course.” Anita had been at the Assistant Chief Constable’s retirement party. Hours before he’d died.
“Canary, before that. The paedophile ring. To be honest…”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry, Anita. I really shouldn’t be talking to you about this. They’re sensitive cases, and I’ve been off work for a couple of months now. I don’t know their status.”
Anita knew Lesley too well to believe she wouldn’t keep track of what was going on.
“Is there any reason someone might send him a gift?” Anita asked, putting her free hand on the hamper.
“A gift?”
“Chocolates, wine. That kind of thing.”
“Anita, I think you need to talk to your husband. Not to me. You know police officers can’t receive bribes.”
“It’s not a bribe,” Anita replied, too quickly. Was it?
“Anita, talk to David. Tell him to get rid of it if it’s dodgy. If it isn’t, well that’s fine. Maybe the new ACC wanted to thank him for something.”
Thank you in advance. Anita was pretty sure it wasn’t from the ACC.
“Sorry to bother you, Lesley. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“That’s fine. Are you sure you’re OK?”
“Fine. Just got some trouble with our daughter. You know what kids can be like.” She laughed.
“It’s nice to hear from you, Anita.”
“We should get together some time. Meet for a coffee. If you’re well enough.”
“I’m fine. But I’m moving. Dorset, in the summer.”
“Maybe we can meet before then,” Anita said. She knew they wouldn’t.
“Sounds like a plan. You take care, Anita. Talk to David. I mean it.”
“I will. Please don’t tell anyone about this conversation, will you?”
Anita caught herself. She shouldn’t have said that, it made her look suspicious.
“I can’t promise that, Anita. Not if I’m asked. David might ask me, he is still my line manager for now.”
“Oh. Alright, then. Thanks.”
Anita hung up, her heart racing. She tossed the phone onto the sofa and started to empty the hamper. She would put its contents in the fridge, hide them amongst other things. She would shove the basket under the spare bed.
It would be as if the thing had never existed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zoe sat in her car with Mo, waiting for Adana to tell them she was ready for the body to be moved. The space around the tent was limited, so they’d decided to give the FSI and pathology teams some room.
“What d’you think?” Mo asked.
Zoe stared out through the windscreen. A crowd was forming at the cordon, shoppers and passers-by stopping to see what was going on.
“Could be drugs related,” she said. “Could be anything, really.”
“Yeah.”
“Until we know who he is, we’ve got no idea. We don’t even know the cause of death yet.”
“He’s in a state.” Mo wrinkled his nose.
“He certainly is. You think Rhodri will be able to stomach the post-mortem?”
Mo whistled. “That would be cruel.”
“He’s been bragging about how good he is at them these days. Stomach of iron, he says.”
“It would be a challenge.”
“If he wants to make sergeant…”
“About that,” Mo said. “Did you say something to him?”
“I did. That OK with you?”
“Of course. He’s been acting a bit odd, though.”
“How?”
“Eager. Bossing Connie around a bit.”
“That’s not on.”
“No. I think she’s just as ready as he is, in a different way.”
“You’re right,” Zoe said. “We need to find some way to give them both opportunities.”
“Without losing them both.”
“Now that would be careless.”
Mo laughed. “It would.”
“How about we let them lead the planning for this case, when we get back?” Mo asked. “Give them what we have, and ask them how they think we should progress things.”
“That could work.”
“If you can resist poking your oar in, that is,” he said.
Zoe mock-punched him. “Oi.”
“Joking. You are the boss, after all. And it’s unlikely they’ll think of everything. But if we let them kick things off…”
“Both of them?”
“Why not?”
Zoe considered. “It could be carnage, but it might work.”
She turned towards the tent. Yala was emerging, beckoning them over.
“You think we should do some thinking of our own, first?” she said to Mo as they got out of the car.
“I didn’t say we couldn’t do that.”
“Good. Cos I can’t not process a case once it’s in my head.”
He smiled. “I know. It’s why you’re so good at your job.”
“DI Finch, we’ve got a development.” Yala was in front of them, looking agitated.
“A problem?” Zoe asked.
“Not a problem as such.”
“Go on.”
“We’ve found something in the man’s pocket. Come and see.”
Zoe exchanged a glance with Mo and followed Yala towards the tent. Next to it, one of the FSI techs was labelling evidence and bagging it up.
“Show them the badge,” Yala said.
The tech pulled an evidence bag from the plastic box he was filling. He handed it to Yala, who held it out. “We found it in his inside pocket.”
Zoe leaned in. “What is it?”
“A fabric badge. The kind you’d embroider onto clothes. It was loose.”
Zoe took the bag from her and turned it over in her hands. She smoothed the plastic down to get a better look at what was inside. “Shit.”
She handed it to Mo, her mind racing. “You found this in his pocket?” she said to Yala.
“Inside pocket of his jacket. It was a bit of a mess, we’ll have to get it cleaned up before we can analyse it for prints or DNA.”
Mo held the bag like it was on fire.
“Get your phone out,” Zoe said. He did so, navigating to the photo he’d shown to Donnelly the previous evening.
Mo held the phone out next to the badge. The images mirrored each other: a bull against a ring. A spear sticking out of it.
“It’s the same,” Zoe said.
“It is,” replied Mo.
“This is not some random drugs crime.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
They drove back through the traffic, which was heavier now. It was the middle of the evening rush hour; that coupled with the fact it had started to rain made the M6 more like a car park than a motorway.
“We shouldn’t have come this way,” Zoe muttered as she turned the windscreen wipers up higher.
“The Stetchford way would have been just as bad,” replied Mo. “Worse, probably.”
“It’s going to be dark soon. Connie and Rhodri will need to get off home.”
She and Mo had been at the crime scene for four hours; it had taken three of those to prepare the body to be moved and then they’d waited one more while Yala’s team examined the area immediately around the body. A team of uniformed officers were trawling the vicinity, checking other patches of grass and the car parks that were dotted around the area. Officers had been sent in to the industrial estate and the supermarket, as well as the church and a nearby primary school.
So far, no witnesses had come forward. If anyone had seen anything, they hadn’t been around today.
“We’ll need to do an appeal,” Zoe said. “Someone must have seen something. It’s built up around there, plenty of people.”
“Chances are he w
as dumped late at night. Could have been deserted. And we’ve got CCTV from two of the industrial units.”
“And the Co-op.” Connie and Rhodri were already working through the CCTV footage from the supermarket. Zoe’s plan to give them the lead on this case hadn’t kicked off yet, but there was still time.
“That badge is the key,” she said. “Once we know who the victim is, we can find out why he had it on him.”
“Question is, was it already in his pocket, or was it put there?”
The traffic started to move and Zoe muttered at the car in front. “That makes a difference.”
“It certainly does.”
“We’ll show it to the constables,” she said. “Give them that, and what we have so far from the body. See what they reckon we should follow up on.”
“I’m worried this is going to be taken off us,” Mo said as they filtered off the M6 onto the Aston Expressway. The traffic stopped again and Zoe cursed, slamming her palm on the steering wheel.
“Cos of that symbol,” she said through gritted teeth.
“If this is connected to DS Starling, PSD might snatch this one off us too.”
“Maybe we don’t tell them. Not yet.”
“Dawson will have to.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure.”
They drove through the tunnels under the city centre. Zoe had the beginnings of a headache. Driving in this weather didn’t help. When they arrived back at the office, she was relieved to get out of the car, a rarity for her.
“Right,” she said. “Let’s see what our two trusty sidekicks have got to say for themselves.”
As they walked along the corridors towards the office, a door opened and Dawson appeared ahead of them.
“Just got back?” he asked.
“From Chelmsley Wood,” Zoe replied. “We’re about to have a briefing.”
“I’ll join in.”
She sighed. “Fair enough.” Frank was a brooding presence in briefings. If he wasn’t criticising, he was sitting in silence with his arms folded. It made her uneasy.
“Anything interesting?” he asked as they walked.
Zoe glanced at Mo. “Middle-aged man. Plenty of bloating, he’s been dead a while. Pathology reckons he was moved. And there’s this.” She stopped and showed him a photo of the badge on her phone.
“That’s like the one in Boldmere.”
“It is.” She eyed Dawson. “And now you’re going to tell me we’ll be taken off this case, too.”
He cocked his head. “Why would I say that?”
“This was at the Starling murder scene. If the two are connected PSD will want to…”
“It’s just a badge, Zoe. Don’t get your knickers in a twist. It’s your case, and I expect you to lead on it.”
“About that,” she said as she opened the door to the team room.
Dawson looked puzzled. “Yes?”
“I’m planning a slightly different approach. Humour me on this, OK?”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rhodri was getting up from his desk as they entered, shrugging on his coat. His face fell as he saw Zoe, Mo and Dawson coming in.
“Ah.”
“Ah indeed,” said Zoe. She checked the clock: six pm. Early, in a murder inquiry. “Sit yourself down. I’ve got a treat for you.”
Dawson snorted and took a seat at the back. Mo went to his desk. Connie was at her screen, tongue poking between her lips. The board had been rearranged: photos and notes for the Starling case in a small area to the top left with photos from this new crime scene occupying a section on the right. Most of the board was blank. Connie had noted the lines they would be taking: CCTV, witnesses, forensics. It looked like much of what Zoe was about to ask her and Rhodri to do was already underway.
“Right,” Zoe said. “I won’t keep you long, but I want us to get our heads together on this one before going home. We’ll have to wait for the forensics tomorrow and I’m not sure when the PM will be taking place—”
“10am tomorrow,” said Connie. “I checked.”
“Good. Do we have a volunteer for that? It’s going to be gruesome.”
Rhodri paled. Connie raised her hand, very slowly. “I’ll go.”
“Good. Stick it on the board.”
Connie rose from her desk and wrote the time of the post-mortem.
Zoe leaned against the wall at the side of the room, keeping away from the board. It was all she could do not to march up to it and start adding notes. But she needed to let the constables take the reins.
“Mo and I have been talking,” she said. “We want to give the two of you the lead in this meeting. We’ll work together to identify the lines of inquiry we need to take, but I want to hear suggestions from you first.”
Rhodri frowned. “But you were already at the scene.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ve led investigations in the past where another member of the team has gone to the scene before me. It hasn’t stopped us getting started before I’ve seen things for myself. You have to learn to trust the eyes and ears of your colleagues.”
“OK.” Rhodri exchanged a glance with Connie, who shrugged.
Zoe leaned back. “Go on, then. Who’s going to start?”
Connie looked at Rhodri as if she was waiting for his permission. She had to stop doing that if she was ever going to make sergeant. Zoe gave her an almost imperceptible nod. It was her writing up on the board already; she had a head start.
“OK.” Connie licked her lips and walked to the board. “So we’ve got a middle-aged man, found on wasteland between an industrial estate and a supermarket. Pathology says he’s been there…?” She looked at Zoe.
“Dead at least three days,” said Zoe. “The bloating indicates rigor mortis has long since ceased. He’s barely recognisable.”
“Yeah.” Connie looked at the photo of the body on the board. “So given that it’s a public place, it’s unlikely he’s been there the whole time. Which means he was killed somewhere else and then dumped there. The question is when?”
Rhodri turned to Mo. “Is there anything to say he was moved?”
Mo nodded. “Good question. Hypostasis on his legs indicates that he was facing upwards immediately after death. That’s not the way we found him.”
“He looks like he’s been arranged,” Connie said. She bent her head to one side, taking in the tangle of limbs. “It’s almost like he’s doing yoga. Threading the needle.”
Zoe smiled. They were thinking along the same lines she and Mo had. “So…?”
Rhodri stood up and joined Connie at the board. He wrote Moved - when? “We need to ask Pathology if they can identify when the body was moved.”
“Or the forensics might help with that,” Connie said. “I can talk to the FSIs in the morning.” Her cheeks reddened.
“OK, so we’ve got the PM and the forensics,” said Mo. “Connie, you’ve already volunteered for the PM.”
“Ah. Yes.” Connie looked at Rhod. “Can you go to the PM instead?”
“You need post-mortem experience, Connie,” Zoe said. “You do that. Rhodri can talk to the FSIs.”
“No problem, boss.” Rhodri looked pleased with himself.
“You haven’t seen this yet.” Zoe got out her phone and pulled up the photo of the badge. She forwarded it to Connie and Rhodri’s email accounts and their phones pinged.
Connie grabbed her phone. “That changes things.”
“How?” Zoe asked.
“It’s the same symbol the sarge found at the Boldmere scene.” Connie pointed to the photo on the board. “Are the two crimes connected?”
“We don’t know that yet,” Mo said. “Could be a coincidence.”
“Hell of a coincidence,” Rhodri said. He looked at Mo. “Sorry, Sarge.”
“We’ll need to know who this victim was,” Connie said. “That’ll help us find a link.”
“Good,” said Zoe. The first step in any murder investigation was to identify the victim. That often led to the killer.
“Rhod?”
“Er…” Rhodri dragged his gaze up from his phone. “DNA, boss. I’ll ask the FSIs about it when I talk to them in the morning.”
“Do you know for sure they’ve sent samples for DNA analysis?”
“Well, I suppose they always—”
“Can’t assume anything,” Mo said. “You might want to check. Or delegate that.”
Rhodri looked alarmed. “Connie’s got the PM to think about.”
“Connie isn’t the only person in the room.”
“You want me to delegate to you, Sarge?”
“If you want to be a DS, you have to learn to make use of all the resources at your disposal. Sometimes that’s your senior officers. The DI and I haven’t got anything to do yet.”
“OK. Can you call Adi? Ask him if he’s submitted samples for DNA?”
Zoe smiled. “Already spoken to Yala. She’s Forensic Scene Manager on this one. Something you need to establish at the beginning of an investigation. And yes, she’s submitted tissue samples to the lab.”
“When will we get the results?”
Zoe shrugged. “She wasn’t able to say.”
“I’ll follow up in the morning, when I talk to them about the scene.”
“Good.”
Connie was making notes on the board. Writing on the board was grunt work, and something Connie felt comfortable with. She needed to pull her focus away from recording, and spend more time thinking.
“Connie,” Zoe said. Connie almost dropped her pen. “What else do we need to be looking at?”
Connie pointed at the board with the pen. “CCTV. We’ve already started on the footage from the Co-op. Nothing yet. Uniform have been visiting nearby premises, we can check for any other cameras. Sarge, can you take that one?’
Mo smiled. “I can.”
“And then there’s eye witnesses,” said Connie.
“None as yet,” said Zoe. “We’ve spoken to enough people, but none of them claim to have seen anything.”
“That doesn’t mean no one saw anything, just that they weren’t there today,’” Connie replied. “Can we run an appeal?”
“We can use social media,” said Dawson. Zoe had forgotten he was there. “For now. Wait till you know who the victim is before you think about anything else.”
Deadly Fallout (Detective Zoe Finch Book 6) Page 10