Baby's Got Blue Eyes: Introducing DI Ted Darling

by L M Krier

  Ted threw his head back and laughed, perching on the edge of the DS's desk. 'Shit, Mike, if I sacked everyone who ever made a homophobic remark about me, I'd have a real recruitment problem. I've seen your record. You're a good copper, I know that. You'll be an even better one now you know not to be judgemental. By the way, how's your mother-in-law?'

  'It's difficult, sir. We've moved into her house for now. There's a house for sale in the same road and we've put in an offer on that,' the DS told him. 'It's just she used to be so independent, so active, always off out somewhere or other. Now she's stuck in a wheelchair the whole time and it's …'

  He broke off suddenly and looked even more awkward, remembering what the DI had told him the previous day about his father.

  'I know,' Ted told him. 'My dad was the same, especially when my mum walked out. Can I give you some advice, based on my experience?'

  'That would be really helpful, sir,' the DS said. 'We're struggling a bit, to be honest.'

  'Make her feel useful. Let her know that she's still needed,' Ted told him. 'Make sure you encourage her to do as much as she possibly can. Do you have kids?'

  'Yes, sir, a girl and a boy, seven and nine.'

  'Could she babysit?' Ted asked.

  The DS looked a little uncertain.

  'Why not?' Ted asked him. 'For half an hour, while your missus nips to the shops? Make sure the kids know how to help, what to do. You have taught them how to contact help when they need it, I take it?

  Hallam looked sheepish.

  Ted shook his head. 'Coppers, eh? Never ceases to amaze me how many of them don't even teach their kids how to dial 999. She needs to feel needed or she will lose all self-respect. My dad did. What he didn't spend on karate lessons for me, he spent on drink and it killed him.'

  His face clouded for a moment, then he stood up. 'Another bit of advice, Mike. When you get to the stage of knocking on to get a positive ID, try and make yourself look a bit less like a copper. You look like one from a mile away anyway, so try dressing down a bit. We're very casual here, look at me,' he indicated his customary attire of dark jeans, a polo neck and leather jacket, with his trademark Doc Martens.

  'The Big Boss is always telling me the opposite - set a good example, wear a suit and tie. Can you imagine it? I look like bloody wee Jimmy Krankie dressed like that! Like this I can go in undercover anywhere and nobody thinks I'm a cop. And take Tina with you, she's very good at it. I take it you aren't sexist as well?' he said with a wink, then headed for his office.

  He was hoping for the full post-mortem report on their victim today, which may enable them to move forward. He'd been at the PM yesterday, not his favourite activity, and had munched his way through most of a bag of Fisherman's Friends in the process. The pathologist had given him a brief resumé of his initial findings but Ted wanted the nitty-gritty details to give him more of an insight.

  The report was waiting for him, as he hoped. Cause of death was a single clean cut to the throat from the rear, extremely efficient and precise, severing both jugular veins and the trachea, which meant death would have been relatively rapid. The weapon was interesting. A cut that clean and accurate suggested a precision blade, the pathologist thought possibly a surgical scalpel.

  Ted knew that such a quick, clean cut was more difficult than most people imagined, which opened up some interesting possibilities. It was also a left-handed cut which might narrow the field of suspects down somewhat.

  The double mastectomy was post-mortem, luckily, so they were not dealing with a sadistic torture element. The reason for it was still unclear. The body also seemed to have been cleaned after death and there was a likelihood that the hair removal was carried out post-mortem. This was not just a case of someone preparing for a night out by shaving their legs and having a Brazilian wax.

  The body was that of a young woman in her early twenties, in good physical shape, no signs of track marks. Probably not, therefore, a drug user, living on the streets or certainly not for any length of time, and not an addict.

  Ted was interested in the toxicology results which were still to come, to see if there were any indications of recreational drug use. There was the possibility that some substance may have been administered to prevent a struggle, something like the so-called date rape drug Rohypnol, although Ted knew traces of such substances quickly disappeared from the blood stream.

  According to the pathologist's early observations, there were signs of recent sexual activity, as he put it 'rather rough but still probably consensual' with no signs of any physical restraints having been used. A condom had been used, so they were not going to be lucky with DNA on that score.

  The victim had died about forty-eight hours before discovery. The pathologist noted that the body had clearly been preserved at low temperature to retard decomposition, though had not been frozen, so not kept in someone's domestic freezer.

  DS Hallam knocked on his door and came in without waiting to be asked. Ted liked that, it showed the man was quickly settling down, after his rocky start yesterday. Hallam laid out four sheets of paper on the DI's desk and said, 'Got some possible matches in our area, sir. Thought I'd start local then work out.'

  Ted glanced at the sheets of paper. So many people disappearing all the time. The thought always depressed him, especially as his mother had left without trace and he had never bothered to track her down. He didn't even know if she was still alive. Didn't much care, either.

  He put his finger on the one on the right. 'It's not her, you can forget that one,' he said. It was Rosalie.

  'Sir?' the DS sounded puzzled.

  'Sorry, Mike, I should have made sure you were in the loop,' Ted told him. 'That's the DCI's daughter. I know her, I've seen our body. It's not her.'

  'Shit,' the DS looked visibly shaken at the news.

  'My fault, I should have briefed you. She's been missing nearly seven years. You and Tina get round to the most likely first, start with the obvious. I'll send you a copy of the PM report, check it through for any more indications before you go, save a wasted journey, and save upsetting folks if you don't have to. Where are you putting your money?' Ted asked.

  'This one,' the DS said decisively, pointing to the middle one of the remaining three. 'I'm starting off with the most likely assumption that with blue eyes, she was probably a blonde before someone shaved her hair off.'

  'Dangerous assumption,' the DI told him. 'My partner Trevor has curly black hair and his eyes are as blue as …' For a moment a faraway look came over Ted's face which made the DS feel decidedly uncomfortable, then the DI shook himself and continued, 'Blue. He has blue eyes. Blue and blonde don't always go together but it's as good an assumption as any to start on.'

  Hallam turned to go and Ted said, 'Good work, Mike. While you're chasing down a positive ID on Alice, get young Steve onto finding anyone in our area with previous for using a specialised blade, anything like a scalpel. May possibly be a southpaw but don't get too hung up on that in case it's a blade expert who can use either hand, maybe someone combat trained.

  'Then get Maurice onto checking where any likely suspects are at the moment and what they've been up to. He's a plodder, but a good solid plodder, very methodical. And Mike, don't forget …'

  The DS paused for a moment, looking a little confused. Then light dawned on his face. 'Got it, sir, give them positive feedback.'

  Ted smiled. 'My work here is done,' he said, as he went back to his paperwork.

  Chapter Six

  Tina offered to drive her car while they went out trying to get a positive ID on Alice. Mike Hallam suspected this was yet another way of testing him, seeing if he was sexist enough to object to being driven by a woman. In fact Tina was an excellent driver and her car was a sporty Mini Cooper, a little on the compact side for his lanky frame but a fun ride nevertheless.

  Inevitably, as well as talking shop, the DS was anxious to find out more about his unusual new boss, to avoid putting his size thirteens in it any more. They were he
ading to a smart suburb of South Manchester, from where their possible match had been reported missing by a flatmate. They were hoping to find the flatmate at home to be certain of an ID before they called on any family. Breaking the news of a death was something most officers dreaded. Getting it wrong was unthinkable.

  Luckily Tina gave him the opener. 'So do you think you can work with us, Sarge? Not the most orthodox team in the division, eh?'

  Mike laughed ruefully. 'I've certainly never had a welcome speech like that before. Have to confess I was bricking myself. I thought he was going to kick me straight out, literally. The missus would have killed me!'

  'Any trouble in the team, he deals with it himself, in his own way,' Tina said. 'Saying that, he always has our backs, stands between us and any flak which might be heading our way. We all know he'd take a bullet for any of us too. He's not a pen-pushing sort of boss, always where the action is.'

  'Ex-SFO, eh? I should have done my homework a bit better,' Mike laughed.

  'We've never been able to find out if it's really true but urban legend has it he was offered a Queen's Medal which he politely declined,' Tina continued. 'Well, not all that politely, the Boss hates a fuss, but his boss refused it politely on his behalf.'

  'I read up on it after yesterday's baptism of fire - something about him disarming someone with a knife?'

  'Not so much a knife as two hooking big machetes, one in each hand,' Tina said. 'Guy ran amok in a crowded shopping centre. One fatality, lots of serious injuries and a hostage situation. Very difficult for the shooters to do anything. The negotiator was having no luck, the perp didn't speak any English and they couldn't find out what he did speak. The boss just walked in and took the machetes off him, with some pretty nifty moves and no harm done.'

  'You saw it?' the DS asked.

  'Oh yes. Candy from a baby springs to mind,' she said. 'The DCI gave him a right bollocking for going in, we could hear it all round the nick, then he got offered a medal. We started calling him Mr Miyagi afterwards but he didn't like that because he said it wasn't pure karate he used. He's a bit of a stickler for detail, is the boss. He can take a joke, as long as it's accurate.'

  They'd turned off the main road into a pleasant leafy suburban street, lined with London plane trees, large Edwardian houses on both sides, most now converted into flats. Tina took the first available parking space and pointed a little further down the street.

  'Flat 4B at number fifty-six is where our Alice lives, if it is her. It was her flatmate who reported her missing on Monday, after she didn't come home from work at the weekend. She works in a bar/bistro, not very far from here,' Tina told him.

  'Do you want to do the talking while I observe?' the DS asked her and added hastily, 'I'm not meaning you because you're a woman, nothing like that. I just thought, me being new to the team, maybe I should observe how you work first?'

  He was sounding increasingly uncomfortable, aware of the elephant trap he was digging for himself, unintentionally stereotyping his female colleague.

  'Relax, Sarge,' she laughed. 'I know the chances of you making a sexist remark after your initiation by the boss yesterday are somewhere between nil and bugger all. Happy to take the lead though, if you like, assuming anyone is in, of course.'

  Flat 4B turned out to be the basement flat, down a separate flight of stone steps with iron railings at the side and small, high windows to allow in some daylight. There was a light on inside and the pounding whump-whump of music blaring out, making the sash window frames rattle.

  They had to knock several times before there was the sound of someone coming to open the door. A young woman, late teens or early twenties, opened it. She had dreadlocks pulled back into a pony tail, a nose ring, a labret ring, and more earrings than it was possible to count at first glance.

  Her face went pale at the sight of the two officers pulling out and showing their warrant cards.

  'DC Bailey, DS Hallam. We're here about your report of a missing flatmate. May we come in?' Tina asked.

  The girl looked scared to death. Both officers could easily smell the cause for her panic and Tina quickly reassured her. 'We're just here about Vicki Carr, nothing else. Can we come in?'

  The girl stood aside and motioned them to a door on the left of the hallway which opened into a small but pleasant sitting room. Both officers studiously ignored the still-smouldering roach in the ashtray on the coffee table.

  'May I have your name, please?' Tina asked as she and Mike sat down on the squashy sofa the girl indicated, while she turned off the music.

  The girl had to clear her throat before she could reply successfully. 'Poppy,' she said. 'Poppy Adams. I'm Vicki's flat mate. I'm a student, reading law with criminology at Manchester.' She indicated an impressive stack of books on the floor. It may just have been a tactic to draw their attention away from the roach.

  'Criminology, eh?' Mike said ironically, before he could stop himself, then surprised himself by immediately shutting up in the face of the withering look which Tina threw at him.

  'Have you found Vicki? Is she in some sort of trouble?' Poppy asked.

  'We're just carrying out enquiries at this stage,' Tina neatly avoided answering the question directly. 'Can you tell me when you last saw Vicki?'

  'Saturday evening,' came the reply. 'She went out to do a shift at the bistro and didn't come back. I didn't think too much of it the first night.'

  'Did she often stay out overnight?' Tina asked.

  'Well, you know, sometimes, if she was with someone. Same as I do. Neither of us would worry about the other just for one night,' Poppy said.

  'Was she seeing anyone in particular at the moment? Steady partner? Anything like that?' Tina asked, while Hallam made a mental note of Tina's careful use of the neutral 'partner' and logged it away for future use. He was learning.

  'She did have a boyfriend up to a couple of weeks ago but she dumped him, he was getting a bit too possessive.' Mike and Tina exchanged a look and asked for details of the boyfriend which Mike duly noted.

  'When did you start to worry?'

  'Well, usually if one of us stayed out all night, we'd either come back around mid-morning or at the very least we'd text one another. I didn't hear anything from Vicki at all on Sunday and her mobile was going straight to voice-mail. That was very unusual as she had planned to go and have lunch with her parents and would usually have come back to change first.

  'I phoned them to check that she hadn't just gone straight there, which she hadn't, so I popped round to the bistro and they hadn't heard anything either. So on Monday morning I went to the police station and reported her missing,' Poppy told them.

  'Do you have any recent photos of Vicki, to help with our enquiries?' Tina asked.

  Poppy pulled an expensive-looking phone out of the pocket of the baggy boyfriend cardigan she was wearing and started flicking through it. 'Loads of selfies. Who doesn't, these days?'

  She found one and held it out to them. It was of her and a smiling young woman with long, unruly blonde hair. They were each holding a cocktail glass full of a vivid coloured liquid, rich in fruit, adorned with paper umbrellas and lit sparklers.

  'That was taken at the bar. Vicki made it up. She wanted to call it “Better than a shag” but the owner wasn't keen. It was wicked,' Poppy told them.

  Tina and Mike exchanged a look and tried not to make it too loaded. They had their positive ID. Their 'Alice' was definitely Vicki Carr, from Tina's observation of the body and the photos taken at the crime scene. Now they needed to go and do the dreaded knock on the door of the parents, whose address they already had.

  Another leafy suburb, this time smart post-war semis, undoubtedly with a substantial price tag. Tina pulled up outside one with an obsessively immaculate front garden, bowling green neat lawn, late-flowering chrysanthemums standing in stiff rows like soldiers on parade.

  Mike Hallam had heeded the Boss's advice and tried his best to dress more casually, less like a copper, but he was the
first to admit he had little dress sense and his wife had given up on him long ago.

  He obviously hadn't quite achieved what he'd hoped for though, as when a neatly dressed woman in her late forties opened the door and he asked, 'Mrs Carr?', she went ashen-faced and would have ended up on the floor had Tina not caught her deftly with a technique which spoke of practice.

  Chapter Seven

  The DS beat Ted in the next morning, too. Ted smiled to himself when he saw Mike working away at his desk. He stopped smiling when Hallam turned in greeting and Ted saw he was sporting an angry-looking cut high up on his left cheek bone, with the beginnings of a black eye forming above it.

  The DS grinned and self-consciously touched the injury as he said, 'And the moral of that story is, when teaching your son how to swing a baseball bat, don't move in too close.'

  Ted laughed. 'Are you into baseball then?'

  Hallam shook his head. 'Not remotely, sir, not interested in any sports, to be honest, and I was rubbish at all of them at school,' he said. 'I just seem somehow to have spawned a son who loves sport and expects me to be able to teach him how to play anything and everything. I wish I could interest him in ping-pong instead, that might be less hazardous for me.'

  'My partner Trevor and I run a self-defence club for kids. Might be good for your lad, and certainly less dangerous for you,' Ted told him. 'Anyway, I'd like you to brief the team this morning. I'd be interested to see how you deploy them. Up to you, but if I were you I'd put four on the Vicki Carr case, leave the others on existing cases. I take it you've brought yourself up to speed on what else we have on the books?'

  'Yes sir, that's why I've been coming in early,' Hallam replied.

  'See if you can get Steve out of the office a bit,' Ted suggested. 'Typical geeky type, he's happiest on his computer but a bit of fresh air would do the lad good. Don't put him on door to door on his own yet though, he'd never manage to say anything!'