by A. J. Cross
Traynor grinned. ‘According to a famous philosopher that probably makes you one of the wisest among us.’
‘In that case, Lord help us.’ He paused. ‘Thanks for agreeing to work with us again. You’ve been following the news of the double-shooting?’
‘It’s hard to miss, although it’s light on detail. I also heard members of the press outside complaining about a lack of a press conference.’
Watts shrugged. ‘That’s the second most frequent gripe in this game, the first being police failure to produce results. If we do share information with them, they inflate it beyond all recognition and create a frenzy of fear in the local populace which is then on the phone to us, clamouring for action. If we don’t give them anything, they accuse us of a control-freak culture. Either way we lose. They’ll have guessed you’re on board so I’d better get out there. Give them a short statement. Want to be part of it?’
‘I’d prefer to keep a low profile.’
Watts glanced at the clock. ‘I’ll be five minutes at most.’ He pointed at the sheets on the table. ‘You’re welcome to read my latest notes.’
Watts faced several reporters, their breath in clouds on air turned icy as they recorded his words on phones or in notebooks. ‘This is very early in a homicide investigation. You already know the names of the two victims, which I can confirm to be Michael Lawrence and Molly Lawrence, a married couple, residents of Birmingham. They were in the city centre that evening when their vehicle was attacked by an armed individual. The attack appears to have been motivated by theft. Mr Lawrence has died of his injuries. Mrs Lawrence remains in hospital. This is an appeal to all residents of this city to stay vigilant when out and about, particularly in the evenings. If anybody has information about, or merely a suspicion of, the likely identity of this attacker, please ring headquarters as a matter of urgency. Officers working on the investigation are available to take calls. There’ll be a press conference at some stage but for now, that’s all.’
He turned, walked away, exasperated voices following him, one or two pointing to the Aston Martin parked nearby. ‘What about the criminologist, Will Traynor? Is he now part of your investigation? Sarge?’
‘Come on, DI Watts, we’re starving here—’
‘Got any actual leads?’
‘Any names in the frame …?’
Back inside his office he found Traynor still reading. ‘Have you got anything you’d like to talk about to the investigative team, or do you prefer to listen for now?’
‘I think, some of both.’ He paused. ‘Bernard, I’ve got one or two theories of my own which I want to share with you prior to this meeting.’
Watts looked at his watch, then shook his head. ‘They’re waiting for us. My main concern now is Molly Lawrence as witness. You’ve got expertise in talking to traumatized individuals and that’s going to be your priority as soon as she’s up to it. Are you OK with that?’
‘I shall be when the hospital confirms that she is sufficiently recovered.’
They left the office and took the stairs to the incident room. As they came inside, Watts picked up smiles, nods, hands raised to Traynor, who acknowledged their greetings by raising the slim folder he was holding then standing to one side. Watts faced his team.
‘I’ve just delivered a very brief statement to the press. Brief, because there’s not much to tell them. As soon as we know that Molly Lawrence’s release from hospital is imminent, she’ll have round-the-clock protection at her home.’ That got frowns from several officers. Nobody welcomed that kind of assignment. Tough. It had to be done.
‘No forensic results yet. The poor-quality partial print on the watch that was dropped at the scene, property of Michael Lawrence, looks to be of questionable usefulness, but the watch itself will be tested for DNA which as always is going to take a while. So far, nothing to report on the weapon and bullets used. As we’re beyond the first forty-eight hours with no identified suspect, the glass fragments from the Lawrences’ car window are looking increasingly irrelevant for matching purposes. Two shots were heard at around nine twenty, nine thirty p.m. by the owner and his security worker inside a nearby convenience store. Given the ten thirty-five p.m. emergency call you’ve all listened to, that timing looks to be a bit early, but we’ll bear it in mind. Molly did tell Judd that she couldn’t move, and so it took her a long time to make the call.’ He checked his notes. ‘An inner-city gym owner has given a possible name for the carjacking series: Jonah Budd. Budd has done time for similar. I’ll be chasing him up.’
He glanced to his right. ‘As you see, Dr Will Traynor is with us again.’ He paused for the flurry of low comments, nods and grins to subside, including an intent, lingering gaze from Josie Miller directed at Traynor. ‘I’ve given Will a quick overview of the carjacking series and the Lawrence shootings.’ He turned to him. ‘Anything you’d like to say at this stage, Will?’
All eyes were on Traynor as he removed two large sheets from his file, calmly unfolded them, took them to the whiteboard and fixed them to it. Two maps. Watts felt a rush of adrenalin. A criminological evaluation of the two inner-city crimes and their scenes was exactly what was needed. Traynor pointed to the map on the left.
‘I understand there’s consideration being given to a link between the six carjackings close to the Bristol Road intersection here, and’ – he pointed to the map on the right – ‘the shooting of Michael and Molly Lawrence in this area of the inner city, specifically Forge Street. It appears to be a reasonable line of inquiry at this early stage, given the relative proximity of the two scenes and the fact that the first victim believes she saw a gun.’ He paused. His audience waited.
‘I’ve read all the available information on the interchange attacks and the shootings of Mr and Mrs Lawrence. They tell us something about offender thinking and action, plus the significance of “place” for both offences which I’d like to share with you.’
He came towards them, his face relaxed. ‘What I’ve done is use the admittedly small amount of available information to analyse both of the crimes and the specific geographical areas in which they occurred.’ He pointed back to the maps.
‘Given the nature of the November carjackings, their location and timing in fading afternoon light, I would anticipate that there were two offenders involved, one acting as lookout at the traffic island.’ He pointed. ‘Up here to a confederate further down the dual carriageway.’
Watts’ optimism rose.
‘That whole series was ultra-smooth, with minimal engagement between the offender and five of the six victims.’
Watts nodded again.
‘The geographical and temporal awareness shown by that attacker is reflected in his post-offence behaviour as described by victims: his leaving the immediate location in failing light and at speed, quickly disappearing into the urban landscape. It tells us something about him. He’s likely to be of average intelligence, a planner, someone who is into criminal activity which is quick, low risk and involves minimal contact between himself and his victims. Descriptions of him from victim-witnesses fit with my expectations of him as strong, athletic, fast-moving.’
Traynor returned to the left-hand map. ‘He’s young. Between say sixteen and twenty-five. He knows that area intimately.’ He looked back at them. ‘It’s where he lives.’
Brophy came into the incident room as Traynor placed both hands against the map, emphasizing each word. ‘Smash. Grab. Run. That’s his MO. Straightforward. Efficient.’ All eyes followed as he moved to the right-hand map and the Lawrence attack.
‘Question: what does Forge Street and its surrounding area have to tell us about the individual who attacked and shot Mr and Mrs Lawrence?’ The silence in the room was palpable. ‘Based on what we know so far, he appears to have acted alone. In terms of his behaviour, the degree of violence exhibited was extreme. One of the victims was killed, the other very fortunate not to have been.’ He gave them a direct look. ‘All offenders gain confidence via experience. Are
the Lawrence shootings an example of a young, athletic carjacker, emboldened by a series of six successful attacks now intent on upping his game? To answer that question, we need to consider further the relevance of place.’ He pointed to the Forge Street map.
‘Some of you have been to that area as part of the investigation. I was there at six thirty this morning. I experienced a high volume of traffic as I approached it but very little the closer I got. In the forty-five minutes I was in that street, I logged just two vehicles enter and pass quickly along it without stopping.’ He moved his hand slowly over the area of the Lawrence crime scene. ‘Why would an experienced carjacker choose this as a place to commit further attacks? Of equal relevance, how did he plan to stop any vehicle of interest?’
‘I was going to raise that with you,’ said Watts. ‘I’m thinking he used some kind of ruse to slow down or stop the Lawrences’ car.’
Traynor returned to the map again. ‘Let’s consider that. The immediate area around Forge Street has a lot to tell us.’ They watched his index finger move over it. ‘Despite it being part of the inner city and relatively close to its constant traffic flow and activity, Forge Street is economically deprived, offers little to no business activity or employment. Housing is some way off. It’s a neglected, forgotten place.’ He turned to Watts. ‘You’ve checked it out in terms of its history of criminal behaviour?’
Any optimism Watts had felt was draining away. ‘Nothing in the last decade beyond minor vandalism.’
Traynor moved to the table, selected one of a number of photographs of the Lawrences’ vehicle at the scene, the victims visible inside it. He raised it high. ‘Murder, the ultimate crime, occurred in that location, late that evening. The exact timing is unknown but possibly sometime around ten, ten thirty p.m., given the timing of the emergency call made by one of the victims. I agree with Detective Inspector Watts that the shots heard at around nine thirty appear to be a little early. One possibility is that the attacker followed the Lawrences to that location, although it’s also possible that he was waiting somewhere in the vicinity of Forge Street. Leaving aside for now how he got them to stop, at some point he gained access to the inside of their vehicle. Which raises a big question. Why place himself in such close proximity to his two victims? He had a gun. He could have remained outside the vehicle and threatened them’ – he looked at Watts – ‘which would be reminiscent of the carjackings. He chose to get inside. Why? From the information I’ve read, he already had the victims’ valuables in his possession when he shot them. Why would he do that?’ He indicated the left-hand map.
‘I see a stark inconsistency between the carjacking series and the attack on the Lawrences. There’s a lack of caution, smoothness and efficiency in the shootings. If one man is responsible for the carjackings and the Lawrence shootings, he changed his MO in Forge Street. Why would he do that? I don’t have an answer but the question needs asking.’
Jones raised his hand. ‘Are you saying we should be ruling out the carjacker for the Lawrence shootings? If it was the same offender, isn’t it possible he and his mate know Forge Street, checked it out and saw its isolation as a big plus for extending the offence area? DI Watts mentioned the possibility of a ruse being used to stop the Lawrences’ car. If that’s what happened, he was probably confident that, whatever happened after that car stopped, nobody would come along, stop and intervene. Plus, he’s already had one of his carjacking victims try to hold on to her property, so he’s equipped with a gun and ready to use it, with enough confidence to handle any confrontation.’
‘Those are all reasonable suppositions.’ Traynor nodded. ‘But step back a little. What’s the attraction of Forge Street for an experienced carjacker?’
In the following seconds of silence, Jones frowned. ‘Given what you’ve said about lack of through traffic, there doesn’t seem to be any.’
Watts looked from him to Traynor. ‘Are you saying that there’s no connection between the carjackings and the attack on the Lawrences? How sure are you, Will?’
Traynor gave a wry smile. ‘I understand why you’re asking the question, but we both know that there are rarely absolutes in our line of work, particularly at this early stage.’
He returned to the two maps and placed his hand against one then the other. ‘What I’m suggesting is that you visualize each of these areas, compare them, then ask yourselves the key question: how likely it is that the slick, youthful, six-times carjacker who lives close to his attacks, knows that area intimately, whose plan is minimal contact with his victims, and the individual who chose Forge Street in which to attack the Lawrences, rob them, kill one of them and almost kill the other, are one and the same?’
The silence was broken only by the door opening and Brophy exiting the room. A hum of voices started up, officers discussing what they had just heard.
Watts headed to Traynor. ‘I was hoping for something different, but being an optimistic type, as and when the CCTV data arrives, it might give us some clarification—’
‘Sarge, it’s here!’
They headed for Kumar and gathered around the large screen filled with four stills of traffic scenes. He started the recordings and pointed to the one at top left. ‘See that? Six twenty-nine, and that’s the Lawrences’ Toyota close to Mike Lawrence’s parents’ home in Handsworth Wood.’
They watched jerky footage of the car making a left turn. Kumar pointed again, this time at a road name. ‘His parents’ address.’ They waited, their attention fixed on one or other of the on-screen scenes, searching for the Toyota. Seconds passed. ‘Here it is again! It’s now heading away from the parents’ place.’ They watched the Toyota move slowly, hemmed in by heavy traffic, time: seven sixteen p.m.
Watts pointed. ‘That’s Symphony Hall on the left. They’re heading into town, to the restaurant in Newhall Street.’ All eyes were fixed on the four-part screen, the Toyota no longer visible. ‘I phoned the restaurant. It was busy that night. A member of staff thought they arrived at around seven thirty but couldn’t confirm what time they left. The Lawrences’ bill was handwritten, no time included. Mr Lawrence left cash on the table, alerted a waiter to it and they went. Run it forward a bit.’ Kumar did, the four-part screen now filled with heavy evening traffic. They searched it. No Toyota Previa.
‘Come on!’ murmured Watts, frustrated. ‘Where are you!’
Kumar pointed. ‘That’s them, heading further into the inner city.’
‘Stop it there.’
Watts stared at the scene, then up at the on-screen time: 20.50 hours. ‘Run it on.’ The footage continued. ‘There’s already a high volume of traffic. It looks to me like they’re heading home, via the inner city.’ The Toyota disappeared on a screen change. ‘If their car is picked up again, we’re looking for something, anything which might seem untoward. Anything which suggests somebody was taking an interest in the Lawrences’ car, maybe following it, getting too close, tailgating, flashing his lights.’ He pointed to the top-right scene. ‘Here it is at 20.58.’ Officers leant forward, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the dark-coloured Toyota moving slowly, making a right-hand turn.
Watts pointed again. ‘They’re heading in the general direction of Snow Hill and a traffic island which would lead them in the direction of Moseley and home.’
The Lawrences’ car disappeared from the screen. They waited. It reappeared at 21.04. Watts jabbed at the screen. ‘See that? They’ve taken the wrong exit from the island, now going in the wrong direction.’ They scoured the quartered screen. No Toyota. ‘Run it on, Kumar. See if it reappears.’
It didn’t.
Watts straightened. Officers flexed their shoulders. He stared at the now blank screen. ‘They were heading straight for the roadworks and Forge Street. Like you said, the nine thirty shots do seem a little early to be connected to the Lawrence shootings. The emergency call was received at ten thirty-five p.m.’ He moved to the front of the room. ‘Did anybody see anything remotely interesting involving the Lawrenc
es’ vehicle and any other?’
Judd broke the silence. ‘Something could have occurred once they were no longer within CCTV range. Perhaps somebody thought the Lawrences’ car did something, like cutting them up, got really annoyed and followed them.’
‘True. I contacted Traffic but they couldn’t help. Their interest is in specific accidents, and there was no damage to the Lawrences’ car when it was found, except for the smashed window which we know happened at Forge Street.’
Traynor paced. ‘Shots heard at around nine thirty p.m., emergency call logged at ten thirty-five.’ He turned to Watts. ‘You were at the scene soon after.’
‘Yes. I saw both victims before they were removed. It was Mrs Lawrence who made the call, but by the time I got there both of them were unconscious. I didn’t know it, but Mike Lawrence was dying.’
He turned to the head of forensics who had come into the room a couple of minutes earlier. ‘Adam, can you confirm the road worthiness of the Lawrences’ Toyota?’
‘Our examination showed the bodywork to be well-maintained with no indication of damage. The fingerprint examination of it yielded only the Lawrences’ own.’ Officers stretched, sighed, some looking dispirited.
‘It’s early days,’ advised Watts. ‘Save the morose looks.’
‘Given Mrs Lawrence’s situation, I’m assuming that she hasn’t been spoken to yet,’ said Traynor.
‘Judd spoke to her very briefly earlier today and she’s got a written record of what was said. It isn’t much.’ He reached for the sheet Judd was holding out to him, passed it to Traynor. ‘I’m in daily contact with the hospital as to her progress. As soon as there’s an indication that she’s improving I’ll be asking you to intro yourself to her.’
‘Let me know when.’
Watts looked at each of his officers. ‘We know the difficulties we’re facing here. I’ll be issuing specific assignments. Meanwhile, get really familiar with the facts. If anybody comes up with an idea, a theory, you know where I am.’