Persecution

by R. C. Bridgestock

  Ever the optimist these days, Ricky-Lee stood up, took a mug from the tray Annie was holding, and continued talking to Charley. ‘The bank say that there’s still a chance that they’ll have a picture from previous withdrawals. Let’s face it, it’s hardly likely he’s going to give someone else his PIN number and his bank card to withdraw his money, is it?’

  ‘No, but one thing that I have learnt about Peters is that we can’t try to second guess what he does.’

  Ricky-Lee turned. ‘I’ll come back to you when we have more info from NatWest. At least we know he’s still around and about.’

  ‘That’s true,’ said Charley over her shoulder, as she in turn headed back to her office. Mike followed her inside, a piece of paper in his hand. He sat down on the edge of the visitors’ chair opposite Charley.

  ‘We’ve got a witness who will say that he travelled up in the lift with Peters and Heinz, on the day that Helen thanks that she’s captured them together on CCTV,’ he said.

  Charley rested back in her chair and took a long sip of tea. ‘Can he tell us anything else?’

  ‘Nothing that we don’t know, but at least we now know a date and a time when Heinz was still alive.’

  Charley’s face looked drawn, her expression was one of frustration. ‘Peters has got to be lying low somewhere nearby. We know he’s a loner, with no links to family or friends elsewhere that we can find, and he isn’t going back to his flat, so where is he?’

  ‘Do you think he’s secreted himself on campus?’ Mike deliberated.

  Charley sat up straight, drained her mug and put it down on her desk. ‘Annie said that earlier. I think it’s a distinct possibility. We know he’s a planner. He must have known before he picked Heinz up and took him home, that if he killed him he wouldn’t be able to go back to his flat. Maybe he thought that the large police presence would disperse from the university to the new crime scene, and wrongly that we wouldn’t be back. Maybe he did go back, but would he risk being seen by his colleagues, or his boss?’

  ‘Let’s face it, he was in the perfect job to know where the vacant flats were on campus, and he wouldn’t need a key, just an open window,’ said Mike. ‘He’d probably think that after the attempted murder of Cath Crowther, the scene of a crime would be the last place we would look for him too.’

  ‘That does make sense, because he would feel safe and secure on home turf. Let’s make some discreet enquiries at the university and see what rooms are known to be vacant. Then we’ll do the necessary. We know he was in the locality yesterday, so the likelihood is that he is nearby, lying low.’

  Mike folded the piece of paper in his hand and put it into his jacket pocket when he stood up to leave.

  ‘Like you always tell us, clear the ground beneath our feet before moving further afield.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Charley said with optimism in her tone. ‘Perhaps we are closer than we know to locking him up.’

  Chapter 27

  Armed with a list of list of vacant rooms, from their contact at the university, PCs Helen Weir and Lisa Bayliss returned to the Incident Room to update Charley, and get further instruction.

  In the meantime, Charley had been reading her morning mail. An update from the Crown Prosecution Service, in the form of a letter via the internal mail, concerning Maddox and Beth Green, suggested that they needed a meeting with her to discuss things further. It appeared that their concerns were regarding how it would impact on any future murder trial in relation to Cordelia Le Beau’s death. Charley was fully aware that the details would have to be disclosed to any defence team, so it wouldn’t cause her any concern if they decided to prosecute the pair. Irritated, she read on. With regards to Tricia Carmichael and Kirsty Webb, it had been decided that no further action would be taken.

  The SIO put the letter in her ‘to do’ tray. She had more pressing matters to address this morning. Why it had taken CPS so long to come up with the obvious was beyond her.

  Conscientious, diligent, and eager to update the SIO, Helen and Lisa were buzzing with the news that although fourteen flats were vacant, one of those was being refurbished, with workmen trudging in and out all day, and could be ruled out.

  ‘Thirteen?’ remarked Charley, a brief look of surprise showing on her face. She had expected to have more to search. ‘Let’s hope thirteen is lucky for us,’ she smiled.

  Charley briefly looked over the top of Helen’s and Lisa’s heads at the sound of the door opening, to see Mike Blake enter her office. He closed the door behind him and sat down next to Helen, apologising for his lateness.

  ‘How are we going to approach the vacant flats discreetly?’ she asked.

  ‘Perhaps the university have spare keys available to us?’ suggested Lisa.

  ‘I’m sure once we get started, the word will quickly spread that the cops are on campus, but how long does it take to check thirteen flats?’ said Helen, eagerly.

  ‘I think that’s a risk we’re going to have to take,’ answered Charley. ‘If we have enough officers on site, we should be able to check the flats simultaneously for a would-be squatter, in no time at all, don’t you think? Get the keys, let’s do this tomorrow.’

  ‘Early doors, before admin arrive I guess?’

  Charley nodded.

  ‘No worries, I’ll get them this afternoon,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Just a thought, I wonder if someone could swing past tonight to see if any of the vacant flats are lit up?’ Mike suggested.

  ‘Good idea,’ said Charley. ‘If so we’ll have a heads-up on where to start, and if not we’ve lost nothing.’

  Charley’s focus turned back to Helen and Lisa. ‘Question, are you both working tomorrow?’

  Helen and Lisa nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ they said in unison.

  ‘Helen, I know you’re already working with us. Lisa, I’ll have a word with your supervisor. I’d like you both involved, in plain clothes.’

  Lisa looked a little anxious.

  ‘If supervision has to pay overtime for others to cover your absence, the cost will be covered by us, so don’t worry. I’ll sort it.’

  Lisa’s face brightened somewhat. Her shift was short of personnel, with one officer on long-term sick leave, one on a six-week training course, and another at court for a trial.

  ‘One more thing,’ said Charley before they left her office. ‘We have a map of the campus in the Incident Room. What I would like one of you to do is highlight the thirteen vacant rooms, so that we can see their proximity to each other.’

  ‘I’ll do that,’ said Lisa, eagerly. ‘I finished my shift at two o’clock. I don’t mind staying on.’

  ‘Can you get your list of vacant flats copied for us, Helen, and, can you allocate officers to search the flats please, Mike? Briefing prior to the searches… six o’clock tomorrow morning? We will update everyone at tonight’s briefing for the operation, so that tomorrow we can get straight off with everyone already aware of their role. Can you arrange that for five-thirty tonight?’

  Charley’s strength was fading, she needed air. ‘I’ll be back for the briefing,’ she announced, leaving the office, her outside coat billowing behind her.

  * * *

  ‘Hey, Wilson,’ Charley greeted the ex-police horse, with a flake of hay, but he knew better and snuffled around her coat pocket, where he knew he would find mints.

  Kristine, her best friend and former colleague in the mounted section, was working overtime, so her dad Marty, who was working in the front office, had told Charley on her way out of the building. ‘Is it okay if I take Wilson out for a ride?’ Charley texted her best friend. Her reply was instant, as Charley knew it would be. ‘You don’t have to ask. He has missed you nearly as much as I have. We must catch up! I’m off at four.’

  In her heightened state of mind, Charley entered Wilson’s stall, barely noticing the cold that enveloped her body without wearing all her proper riding attire, as she gathered his reins and thrust her riding boot into the stirrup. Wilson reacted by moving h
is hindquarters a step sideways as she mounted him. He responded immediately when she tapped her heel against his flank, moving forwards at a quick pace as they trotted out of the stable yard. He knew the procedure when she was vexed, just as well as he knew Charley. Slowly Charley’s anxiety began to melt away, as she felt Wilson respond to one after another of her subtle instructions. As her head started to clear, she gave Wilson his head, and he turned onto the moor himself, and his body seemed to stretch like never before when she urged him to a gallop. She knew well that a horse trotted with his legs and galloped with his lungs, and after traversing the soft ground he was breathing hard. She took a leaf out of Wilson’s book, and made a conscious effort to release the breath trapped inside her lungs. Dizzy for a moment, her frame trembled in a mix of excitement and fear, as Wilson jumped a stone wall that separated the fields, then another, and another.

  On stopping, she knew that Wilson’s breath was easing because he snorted. ‘Okay, buddy, let’s go back to the stables,’ Charley whispered to him. As soon as he realised they were heading back he led the way. Patting him on his neck when his stable was in sight, a tear, then another, escaped her eye. Making sure Wilson was cooled off and comfortable, Charley cleaned the tack before the sweat and foam could dry on the leather, and hung up the soaked saddle pad. Despite the soreness in her legs, she ran to the farmhouse, hoping to find Kristine home.

  ‘I heard that you had a breakthrough,’ Kristine said when Charley entered the kitchen. She noticed that her best friend’s eyes were red and wet, and she knew that she had been crying.

  ‘Yeah, we are going into the vacant flats at the university first thing tomorrow,’ she confided. ‘Whether Russell Peters has secreted himself there we don’t know. It’s a hunch, but I have to clear the ground beneath our feet, before moving the enquiries elsewhere like we always do. If I was a gambler it’s a strong bet.’

  Charley’s mobile rang, she took it out of her pocket and looked down at the screen. ‘It’s Mike,’ she said. ‘I need to take it.’

  Mike had good news, he had received a recent facial image of Peters using the cash machine at the bank.

  Within seconds she was showing Kristine the picture of a clean-shaven, fair-haired young man on her phone. ‘You’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth looking at that face wouldn’t you? However, you and I know appearances can be deceptive.’

  ‘You’d better get back to the nick for a shower, and then get that picture distributed amongst the troops!’ laughed Kristine, pouring herself a large glass of red wine. She raised the glass towards Charley. ‘Oh, I’m so glad I’m not in CID,’ she said. ‘Give me nine-to-five, Monday to Friday any day!’

  Charley threw on her coat. ‘Cheers! With any luck I’ll be joining you very soon to celebrate,’ she said, searching deep inside her pocket for her car keys. ‘We just need him in custody for everything to fall into place, and complete the jigsaw.’

  ‘What, if you don’t succeed?’ asked Kristine.

  ‘If I don’t I’ll be releasing that picture of him to the media, to flush him out.’ With a blink of an eye Charley was gone.

  * * *

  Within the hour the SIO was in the office. It was time for the evening briefing.

  ‘All search teams will be in pairs, and you already know who you are to be paired with, the exception being the flats in red block where there are three flats next to each other,’ said Charley. ‘The searches of the vacant flats should not take a great deal of time, but I want you to check cupboards, beneath beds, anywhere where a person could hide themselves, or secrete anything that would suggest that someone was, is, or has been staying there recently. Each team has been given a photograph of Russell Peters, which is the most recent one we have, taken from CCTV at the bank. If you are successful in finding our man, then I want you to be aware that we have been told that he has a stammer which, given the fact that we will be surprising him, could be made worse at the time of his arrest, so I want you to be patient with him, and listen to anything he may have to say. I want to give him the best opportunity to speak to us if he wants to. Finally, if you didn’t already know, Russell Peters is a good climber, described as being of athletic build. We’ll have dog handler Mike Sharp and PD Marcel present ready to respond, where required.’ A laugh caught in Charley’s throat. ‘He certainly won’t outrun Marcel!’ A titter that went around the room told her the team was buzzing. That feeling of being on the verge of feeling the collar of a murderer was like no other.

  DS Mike Blake handed out the keys to the flats to each pair of officers assigned to the search, and he reminded them, ‘Don’t any of you dare forget to hand them back in at the debrief tomorrow.’

  Charley looked around the faces of her team, a mixture of anticipation, excitement, and fear in each and every one. ‘We will meet in the void, at six o’clock tomorrow morning, and will travel to the university in a convoy. Any questions?’

  When all she could see was the shaking of heads, she went on.

  ‘All I need to do now is arrange for the night detective to take a look around tonight, to see if a light is on in any of the vacant flats. If it is, then that will be our main focus tomorrow morning.’

  Alone in her office when everyone had left, Charley could feel the adrenaline building. She knew sleep would not come easily. Was she about to come face-to-face with the evil predator she had sought for so long, at last?

  Chapter 28

  Charley closed the door carefully as she stepped outside into a dark, chilly, still morning. Tiptoeing down the path, she was always mindful not to disturb her neighbours at such an early hour. It was essential to use the element of surprise to apprehend the suspect when he was asleep.

  At the station she waited impatiently for the others to arrive. Charley looked up at the clock above her office door when she heard the familiar sound of the CID office door open, followed by the officers’ early-morning murmurs as they greeted each other, and the sound of drawers opening and closing. Seeing Charley’s office lit up, Annie cheerily called out. ‘Shall I put the kettle on, boss? We’ve time for a quick one, haven’t we?’

  Charley responded. ‘Yes, just a small one for me. I’ll be with you in a minute.’

  ‘Me too,’ Annie called back. ‘Otherwise I’ll be needing to wee all morning!’

  Smiling to herself at her younger colleague’s reply, the SIO collected her thoughts, checked her bag to make sure she had paper and pen, fully charged mobile phone and her radio. A dedicated channel had been organised for the duration of the operation which would be open from the time they left the station, with a running commentary staying live until the conclusion. Checking done, Charley grabbed her coat and walked to her door, put out the light, went out and shut the door behind her.

  Within minutes, it seemed that the office had become extremely busy and noisy with the banter amongst highly charged personnel – comrades who were about to work as one unit formed a unit like no other. Charley was pleased to note that all those present stopped what they were doing, and looked attentive when she greeted them.

  Proceeding with the short briefing to emphasise her last-minute warnings, and to pass on the information from the night detective, which was that no lights had been seen at any of the vacant flats during the night, she looked at those assembled as she put on her coat.

  ‘Any questions?’ was met by silence. ‘Ready?’ she asked, picking up her bag. A nod of heads was the signal to go.

  Charley slid into the driving seat with Annie beside her for the journey. Their breath condensed on the cold windscreen, and obscured their vision. Furiously she rubbed the glass with her sleeve. She cleared it just in time to see the tailgates of the police vans leaving the backyard. On this occasion they were transporting officers not prisoners.

  Annie shivered, then yawned loudly. ‘Remind me. Why is it best to do dawn raids?’

  ‘You know the reason, to disrupt the suspects when they are less prepared to tool up, escape or dispose of evidence. W
e hope that it will give us a full working day to deal with the prisoner and any evidence which is produced. Plus, an evening arrest creates all sorts of logistical problems for you, the interviewing officers, mostly because it may encroach on the legal rest periods. Does that make you feel better?’ Charley said as they drove onto the site, to join the others at the rendezvous point.

  Daylight was beginning to break when she parked beside the police dog-handler’s van, its rear windows blacked out, Marcel’s cage inside. Dog handler Mike Sharp opened the doors to see Marcel. When Charley opened her car door she could hear Marcel whining with excitement, as he scraped his sharp claws on the bare metal floor of the van. When Marcel jumped out of the van, his tail was wagging furiously, and he was already straining at the leash.

  ‘Let’s get this sorted,’ Charley said to Annie. She reached for the paperwork to enable her to mark off the flat numbers when the ‘all clear’ was announced over the airwaves.

  The cover of darkness for the search party seemed to have been quickly replaced by grey skies as they moved forwards towards the flats. The SIO’s adrenaline started building, her stomach swirled, her chest tightened. Charley watched her colleagues picking their steps with care, using the well-trodden paths on the dewy grass, stooping and clearing the overhanging trees and bushes that stood in their way. Marcel needed no encouragement to run, he occasionally looked from side to side, his keen eye missing nothing, his nose sniffing until they had reached the destination, then one after another, the officers disappeared from sight.

  Eventually the confirmation came over the airwaves that they were all in position, and purely as a precaution, Charley crossed her fingers for luck, and compressed her lips in determination.

  ‘STRIKE!’ she called, in a voice she hardly recognised as her own, that came from deep inside her.

  Within minutes, messages of ‘all clear’ started coming in thick and fast. The triumphant shouts that burst from their throats brought a look of anxiety and frustration to Charley’s face. ‘Come on, come on, where are you?’ she beseeched her prey, angrily.