by S J Mantle
“No, not at all, I was just trying to point out that sometimes it may be okay to bend the rules a bit for the greater good.” Kate sighed. This was so much harder than she could have imagined.
A wizened male to her left glared at her. “So what is your justification for what you’ve done then? Because I’m having difficulty understanding why you couldn’t just let things be. This is not your fight alone.” This was followed by a series of nods from around the table, and whispered mutterings from the woman next to her.
Kate hadn’t anticipated this level of hostility, but before she could answer, a man wearing a smart green tweed three-piece suit and holding a cane got to his feet.
“Guardians, can I suggest that we all take a long hard look at ourselves? It’s easy to be smug when all we do is sit here week after week, year after year. How many empty seats are there? I can count at least ten. Could it not be argued that we have failed in our duty? That essentially we’ve allowed our fellow members to perish without any concerted attempt to intervene…”
The room ignited. It took the Custodian to return order.
“Fellow Guardians, that’s enough! Cyrus, please continue, but I urge caution.”
“Well, I was going to say that whilst I agree Kate’s actions were reckless and thoughtless, her motives were honourable. Surely you can all recall your early twenties? I can, and I’m sure like me at times you were impatient, rash, with a sense of invincibility. We all made mistakes, it’s part of learning our craft. I see much of her mother in her and we would not have survived, had it not been for her tenacity and bravery. I still miss her terribly. So, I’m just saying I think that instead of berating Kate we could perhaps consider helping her?”
Kate sat in silence, her head bowed. She had not anticipated that there might be a friendly face in the room.
“Kate, I think it might help if you play the Professor’s recording,” said Cyrus kindly.
Kate produced the tape recorder from her pocket and turned the volume up to its maximum, before placing it on the table and pressing the ‘play’ button. The room fell silent. When it had finished, no-one spoke. Some, however, appeared visibly upset by what they’d heard.
Kate sat down and looked at her lap. She felt dejected. After what seemed like an age, the Custodian spoke.
“Thank you, Kate, for your honesty; we now need to talk about this and make some decisions. Everyone, I think it’s time we had a break. Be back in twenty minutes please. Kate, please stay behind and see me for a minute, will you?”
Once everyone had filed out, Kate’s father smiled at her.
“Well done, you conducted yourself with dignity. I’m sorry if my presence here startled you, it was not my intention, but the rules did not allow me to tell you earlier.”
“Oh Dad, I had no idea,.When? How?”
“Can we talk about it later?”
Kate nodded.
“What I will say is that I owe the Guardians my sanity, for they stepped in and took care of us when your mother died. Without their kindness and compassion, I’m not sure what would have happened. Now, the tape recorder needs to go to the police. It’s one thing to alter a crime scene, but it’s totally another to remove evidence. Send it to the Senior Investigating Officer, Superintendent Nick Lacey at George Street Police Station.”
Kate nodded. Her father took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze before she was escorted out of the building and back into the spring sunshine.
CHAPTER 6
Harriet arrived home on Saturday afternoon and unpacked. But it wasn’t until she went to make a cup of tea that she noticed the door to the garden was open. She took a step backwards; initial disbelief was replaced by anger at the intrusion into her home. Forensically aware, she took care where she trod and what she touched. Closer inspection of the door suggested it had been forced, there were tool marks on the wood and around the locking mechanism. Inside, Harriet found a broken vase in the lounge, the contents of her jewellery box on the sofa in the master bedroom and clothes strewn over the bedroom floor. There appeared to have been no attempt to remove any of the high-value electrical items, such as televisions or computers.
Harriet called the Police Control Room. A Community Officer arrived, followed by Scenes of Crime. She’d not expected such service, but it seemed burglary was a current force priority. As she watched the Scenes of Crime officer work, she pondered the fact that considerable effort had gone into breaking in, for so little to be disturbed. It almost seemed staged, and she was left with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Out of courtesy, she telephoned Nick.
“I need to come and have a look,” he said, sounding concerned.
“You don’t need to do anything, I have it under control.”
Five minutes later Nick appeared, looking slightly dishevelled. Harriet was at the top of the steps to the house waiting for him. He flashed her a smile.
“Nice hair,” he said, as he followed her into the hallway.
Nick wandered from room to room with Harriet shadowing him. She saw that occasionally he took a swig from a hip flask, but only when he thought he was alone. After about an hour, he had finished.
“Look, this is going to sound lame, but I’m uneasy about this, I don’t want you living here alone.”
“I’m absolutely fine.” She looked at him, arms folded.
“I know you think you are, but please, I’m worried.”
“Well, if you give me a compelling argument for your uneasiness then I might consider going to stay with a friend, but if not, then I’m staying put.”
Harriet noticed Nick shifting his weight from one foot to another, he looked uncomfortable but didn’t raise the topic again.
Monday morning arrived all too soon; Harriet’s first day on Operation Chapel. Feeling nauseous, she paused before taking a deep breath and pushing open the door. The room was teeming with officers and staff; some were drinking coffee and tea, chatting and laughing; some were on computers, others on their mobile phones. For an instant, everyone stopped to stare at the glamorous woman in the doorway. An awkward silence followed, before a tall, slightly gangly man in a grey suit, with a mop of black unruly hair and dark goatee beard, launched himself across the room towards her.
“Hello, Harriet, I’m Detective Sergeant Steve Smith. It’s good to meet you.”
Harriet noted his smart and athletic appearance, guessing he was probably in his late thirties.
“Thank you, good to meet you too.”
“Your reputation precedes you,” he said, immediately looking alarmed and blushing wildly. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that. God, sorry, embarrassing.”
Despite herself, Harriet broke into a smile.
Harriet was used to moving from one job to another at short notice but this was different. For the first time in her career she felt unsure of herself.
Three days were set aside to allow her to familiarise herself with the investigation. After that, the plan was for her to meet her team and to start work in earnest. As Harriet prepared to get herself up to speed she tried to put the prospect of the Friday’s Senior Investigating Team briefings out of her mind. She knew she’d have to work hard to be able to make a useful contribution and to have any chance of being accepted by the rest of the team.
To get up to speed with an enquiry that’s been ongoing for some time was always difficult. Harriet knew she’d need to go back to the beginning, to look at early judgements and assumptions, to understand the decision-making process. She started with the Senior Investigating Officer’s Policy Document; this outlined the direction of the enquiry and detailed the decisions made based upon the available evidence at the time. She also studied the Forensic Strategy and Witness Strategies which had evolved from the Policy Document.
Initial nerves out of the way, Harriet started to do what she did best: pick out the salient points, focus on detail, identify anomalies and map the sequence of events. It did not take her long to identify aspects that might requ
ire further scrutiny.
Harriet was immediately struck by the similarities between the deceased men: all highly educated, with comparable lifestyles and interests. The lack of evidence to suggest they had known each other was frustrating, since they were all clearly linked by the identical way in which they had been laid out in death and the unusual post-mortem snake tattoos.
It was puzzling to Harriet too, that no definitive cause of death had yet been established. This went to the heart of the investigation. Was this a multiple murder enquiry or something else yet unexplained? Indeed, the investigation seemed to be making little progress to establish cause of death. A growing belief that poisoning might be responsible had not been actively pursued. It appeared that because it was initially thought the men may have died of natural causes, other possibilities had not been seriously considered until recently. This delay meant that the condition of the bodies had deteriorated to the point where it was unlikely that it would be possible to get definitive toxicology results. In a couple of cases, the bodies had been released back to the families and their funerals had taken place. It was far from an ideal situation.
As she was reading the available material on Professor Martin Grey, Harriet noticed Scenes of Crime had found a stone disc in a one of his trouser pockets. It was described as ‘slightly larger than a two-pound coin’. It appeared to be solid and made of some sort of grey stone. Carved onto the face of the disc was the image of a sun or star containing sixteen points or beams. Harriet fetched the disc from the exhibit’s store. Intrigued, she handled it through the evidence bag; it looked strangely familiar. She made the decision to request Scenes of Crime examine it more closely.
It was during the first few days of familiarisation that Harriet decided to test the water with DS Steve Smith. She did not yet feel sufficiently up to speed to contribute at the morning briefings, but she did have some questions.
Steve Smith was at his desk. Harriet placed a coffee on the desk. He looked up and smiled.
“Steve, sorry to interrupt your work, but do you mind if I ask a question about the investigation?”
“Of course, fire away.”
“Do you know if anyone has looked at snake venom as a possible cause of death?”
“Why would they?”
“Well, because of the snake tattoos.”
“Nope, don’t think so, but let’s face it, it’s so improbable.” Harriet wasn’t sure, but she thought she detected a frown as he said this.
“Unusual, yes, but improbable? Surely it deserves to be ruled out?”
“It’s rather fantastical, isn’t it? But if you like I’ll mention it to Nick. It may be that one of the other sergeants has been tasked with that enquiry.”
Far from being put off by Steve Smith’s dismissive response, Harriet decided to research the snake venom angle further. Nick kept his distance, remaining entrenched in his office at the far end of the room.
It was on the Thursday morning of Harriet’s first week that Steve Smith first introduced her to her team. They looked a strange ad hoc bunch of tired looking detectives and young female admin staff.
As Harriet approached, she spotted Poppy Webster, the other party in the ‘incident’ with Nick. It was all she could do to keep on walking towards the group. Overcome with an intense desire to scream, to shout, to slap Poppy, it took all her self-control to stay in the room.
As Steve commenced the introductions, Harriet looked again at the young woman in front of her. She couldn’t be more than twenty-two, a slip of a girl, with delicate features, a tiny waist, beautiful open face, and wavy shoulder length blonde hair. The situation was beyond awkward, but what she did now would define their working relationship. And, both she and Poppy were the focus of attention. Was it too early to tackle the elephant in the room? Poppy was visibly shaking as Harriet took her hand.
“Hello, it’s good to meet you officially,” she whispered in the girl’s ear, smiling.
Wide-eyed, Poppy searched Harriet’s face, and smiled back.
Next, Harriet was introduced to Detective Constable Mike Taylor, a skinny man in his late forties, with collar length ash blond hair, long side burns, wearing a dirty fawn Mac.
“Hello Mike, it’s been a long time.”
“It has indeed.”
Harriet was introduced to the rest of the team, and chatted for a while, but she was distracted. She’d not seen Mike Taylor for many years; indeed, she’d quite successfully erased him from her memory, until today. She was surprised at just how uncomfortable he still made her feel.
With the introductions over, Harriet approached Poppy.
“Poppy, have you a minute?”
Poppy looked terrified.
“Grab your coat.”
Harriet knew that their departure would create a stir. It was designed to.
They ordered coffee at a nearby café and found a table in the corner.
“I think we need to get the awkwardness out of the way.” Harriet took a sip of coffee.
Poppy stared at the table. “I would really appreciate that. I’ve been in such a state,” she whispered.
“I think we both need to move forward.”
“But will they leave us alone? You know they deliberately put us together, so they could have a laugh at our expense.” Poppy was tearful. She tugged at her hair.
It suddenly dawned on Harriet just how traumatised the girl before her was.
“I was working on DS Harvey’s team. On the morning of your arrival, DS Steve Smith told me they had decided to churn some of the admin staff and that I was now to work with you. I watched him with his detective friends afterwards and they were laughing.”
“Really? Interesting.” Harriet folded her arms.
“Harriet, I never meant to hurt you, I bitterly regret what happened and I’m so embarrassed. I know it’s no excuse, but I was very drunk. It was a lunchtime drink session that got out of hand. I’m so sorry, I’ve never done anything like this before. At the time I didn’t think about what I was doing and now I’m the home-wrecker, the slag, the whore.”
Harriet handed the weeping Poppy a tissue, before placing her hand on the young woman’s shoulder.
“Please don’t cry, we are where we are. I won’t lie to you, I’ve been to hell and back. But, by the look of you, you have too. Look, we have a job to do. If we work together, it will take the wind out of the gossip’s sails. They’ll soon get bored and pick a new target. So, how about we go and get on with it?”
“Yes, let’s do that.”
Despite herself, Harriet had been moved by Poppy’s distress. Only time would tell if they would be able to work together.
Harriet had her first run-in with Mike Taylor in the first week. She had been waiting for him for over an hour to go through key statements.
“Mike, where have you been?”
“I got delayed.” The absence of an explanation or an apology just served to add to Harriet’s irritation.
“Clearly. Take a seat. Can you tell me if any of the families mention a stone disc about the size of a two-pound coin?”
Mike farcically shuffled through a pile of statements.
“I don’t immediately recall. I don’t think so.”
Harriet took a deep breath. Mike Taylor was going to be a problem unless she took control. She had to remind herself that she was no longer the new probationer and he was no longer her tutor constable. No, time had moved on and now she was in charge.
“I’ll see you here at eight thirty a.m. tomorrow, and please make sure you are fully conversant with the content of these statements.”
Mike jumped to his feet. “You might be a fucking hotshot DS now, but you’re not going to last long with your snotty attitude.” He jabbed his right index finger in Harriet’s face.
The incident room fell silent.
“Really? DC Taylor, how would you like to go back in uniform?” Harriet rose to her feet.
“You can’t do that.”
“Just try me.�
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Harriet hadn’t meant to let him get under her skin so soon, but she still hadn’t forgiven him for his treatment of her early in her career.
At lunchtime on Friday, Nick summoned Harriet to his office. It was inevitable that they would have to interact. Harriet was determined to be professional, but it did not stop her heart beating quicker than normal.
Nick was in a serious mood. “I want to run something past you before telling the rest of the team. Yesterday, I received a small hand-held tape recorder in the post. There was no note with it. It appears to contain the recording of the death of an unidentified male, at the hands of an unidentified female. I can only think it was sent because it relates to this investigation. But whose death it is, I’ve no idea. Have a listen, tell me what you think?”
“Is there a post mark on the package?”
“It’s local, that’s all I can say. Of course, it could be a hoax, but I’m hoping it’s something we can follow up, that will move the investigation forward.”
“Nick, can I quickly ask, has DS Steve Smith mentioned a conversation we had about snake venom?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll listen to this and get back to you within the hour.”
“Thank you. Was your conversation with Steve important?”
“No, it’s okay, forget I mentioned it.”