by L M Krier
'Where are we up to with checking all the schools in the area for anything similar? Steve, you were working on that, weren't you?'
'Yes, sir. I've spoken to them all, with not much to show for it. They all seem to have quite robust anti-bullying policies in place. If they are still having problems, they didn't flag anything up.'
Was it Ted's imagination or was there a new assurance about their youngest team member?
'Well, there was clearly trouble at Flip's school two days ago, and from what he told me, it's been going on for some time. I'll go to the school first, then I want to go and talk to the boy who's been suspended. It may just be coincidence, but he's apparently quite small as well. I don't want us to get carried away seeing connections where there aren't any, but I will get Jezza just to outline her theory about the possibility of different killers but with a connection between the cases, nonetheless.'
Jezza looked pleased to be allowed to air her idea and was careful to present it as a credible possibility.
'So you're saying this is some kind of sick game? Bloody hell, in my day we thought Dare, Command, Kiss, Truth, Promise was going it some,' Maurice grunted.
'It's all only conjecture at the moment,' Ted reminded them. 'But, for that reason, we do need to start looking into similar cases in other parts of the country, just in case.'
'Sir, we need to be looking internationally.'
Steve was definitely getting braver. He was speaking up without hesitation and wasn't going quite as red in the face when he did so.
In response to Ted's querying look, he continued, 'Everything is done via the internet now, especially with younger people. They're all into social media of some kind. If this is some sort of competition, there will be a group somewhere behind it. After all, what's the point of pulling off a high-scoring killing if you've nowhere to boast about it? I wouldn't mind betting we'd find something, if we started digging.'
'When you say we, I imagine you mean Océane?'
She replied before Steve could answer.
'With respect, boss, this is much more up Steve's street than mine. I can get any computer to give up its innermost secrets to a degree he couldn't do. But when it comes to any kind of online game-playing, Steve's the reigning champion. Although I'd be happy to give him a hand.'
A coarse chuckle from Maurice.
'I just bet you would, bonny lass.'
'Maurice,' Ted said warningly. He wouldn't allow remarks like that during a briefing.
'And you think we need to look outside the country, Steve?'
'Yes, sir. If there is something going on online, then it means literally anyone from any country in the world could be taking part.'
Ted paused for a moment, while he took in the enormity of what Steve was saying. It was so far outside his knowledge that he was having difficulty getting his head round it.
'You certainly know far more about this than I do, Steve. So that's settled. You and Océane are on this and only this until further notice. Whatever it takes, see what you can find out. And I just hope you're wrong. The alternative doesn't bear thinking about. Let's start by circulating an information request through Europe, see if that throws up anything.'
'America too, boss, definitely.' Steve was even starting to sound assertive. 'I'm not being judgemental here, but there is documentary evidence that these things can spread like wildfire in the States. It's a language thing, principally. I would seriously start with the major English-speaking online communities first.'
Ted was amazed, but impressed. What Steve was saying made perfect sense, but it was so unusual for him to speak up with such confidence. He would normally have come quietly to Ted's office, tapping hesitantly on his door to put his theory forward.
'Maurice, you need to work with them as back-up, from the cold cases. Anything at all which could have a link. I'm thinking particularly of items missing from a crime scene, which could have been taken as trophies. Garden gnomes, Maurice.'
'Garden gnomes, boss?' he queried, then, seeing the look Ted threw at him, he sighed and nodded. 'Garden gnomes. Got it.'
'There's just another thing, boss, if I may.'
'Yes, Steve. You're on a roll. You most certainly may.'
'I'm pretty sure I've read somewhere that sometimes trophy killers don't keep what they take. They leave it at their next crime scene. So we also need to look at unexpected things found at a crime scene, as well as missing things. For example, let's say we had a crime after the arson and a garden gnome suddenly appeared on that crime scene. I'll do some more checking on that, but it's something we need to consider.'
'Good. Excellent work, all of you. Lots of new angles to run with, so let's get on with it. And with the trophy idea in mind, I want to arrange for South Manchester to search Jake Dolan's house for anything out of place. That way we can rule him in or out, and I'll try to do the same for Flip's attacker, Max Newman.'
'Meanwhile, Jo, please sort out who's on what for now. Megan, are you free to come with me to the school, then to go and see the little charmer who broke Flip's wrist for him, despite his self-defence training?'
'Happy to, boss. Shall I go and get your car?'
Ted phoned ahead to make an appointment to see the headteacher of the school. He never liked visiting school premises. His own school years hadn't been good. Luckily, their visit was not to the school where he'd been a pupil. He still felt as if he was about to be put in detention when he was shown to the head's office.
Ted introduced them both as they showed their ID, then the head invited them to take a seat. He looked young to be the principal of such a large establishment, Ted thought, as the man composed his features into what was clearly his 'I'm listening' expression.
'As I mentioned, it's to do with the incident between two boys which resulted in injury to one and suspension of the other, as I understand it?'
'Sadly, yes. Young Philip seems to have taken it into his head to do some detective work of his own, spying on an older boy, Max. Max admits he was trying to take a biscuit from a younger pupil, which is clearly not acceptable. But it seems Philip has been having Kung Fu lessons and decided to wade in, which led to things getting out of hand.'
'Not Kung Fu, Mr Mitchell. Philip attends the same dojo as I do, learning judo. He also studies self-defence. I'm his sensei. I've already had a word with him about putting himself at risk. But in fact it was me who asked all the children who attend the club to inform me of any instances of bullying they observed. I did not, however, tell him to go ahead and try to deal with it himself.'
The man looked surprised.
'Oh, I see. I'm sorry, I misunderstood. We don't have a bullying problem at this school. We're constantly on the look-out for any signs of trouble, and we deal with it rapidly if and when it does arise.'
'Yet attempting to steal something, even a biscuit, from a younger pupil is certainly bullying, wouldn't you say? Not to mention theft. And breaking someone's wrist is a serious assault, of course.'
'Yes, yes, quite so. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound as if I was belittling the incident. We do take it most seriously, which is why Max was immediately suspended.'
'And what are these two pupils like, generally speaking? Is this kind of behaviour typical of either of them?'
The head pulled some paperwork towards him and consulted it briefly.
'Young Philip, as I'm sure you know, is in foster care, with an adoption application under way. He's generally a quiet, trouble-free pupil, with consistent mid-grade marks in most subjects. There have been one or two incidents with Max, I note. This is apparently not his first suspension. You must appreciate that with a school of this size, I don't know every single pupil individually.'
'Thank you for your time, Mr Mitchell. We'll go and visit Max now, see what he has to say for himself. We're particularly interested to hear of anything involving bullying or any kind of violence between older pupils and younger ones, in connection with an ongoing enquiry. Here's my card. If you do hear o
f any such thing, perhaps you would be kind enough to get in touch.'
As they got back into Ted's official car, with Megan at the wheel, he grinned apologetically at her as he said, 'I couldn't wait to get out of there, sorry. I hope it didn't show too much. School was not exactly a happy memory for me.'
He was interrupted by his mobile phone. The screen showed it was Bizzie Nelson calling.
'Morning, Edwin,' came the booming voice, so strong that he had to hold the mobile a short distance from his ear.
'Good morning, Professor.'
'You're not alone, I gather. As we've not met over any bodies recently, I wondered if you would like to come round this evening for a catch-up? I'm under strict instructions from young Trevor to make sure you're not lonely in his absence.'
Ted smiled his pleasure. Both he and Trev were fond of the rather eccentric but highly intelligent Professor. He enjoyed her company and, as a Home Office pathologist with many years' experience, she would be useful to talk to about his current cases. She may even have experienced something similar.
'That would be very nice, thank you, although I can't guarantee what time I'd get there.'
'Absolutely no problem at all. Come whenever you're ready. I'm a truly appalling cook but I'm sure I can find something in Marks and Spencer's which even I can't ruin too much in heating up.'
Megan was busy concentrating on driving, negotiating her way through some roadworks which had been causing major delays for some time now. Ted took the opportunity to fire off a quick text to Trev.
'Going on a hot date with a woman tonight x.'
It wasn't long before his phone pinged with a reply.
'Good! On way back to coast. Will try to call later but you may be in bed. Then I can think about you ...'
Ted hastily stopped reading and put the phone back in his pocket, worried he may be going pink and Megan would notice.
'This is us, then, boss,' Megan announced, as they pulled up outside a small end-terrace, with an untidy front garden.
A man came to answer the door and looked suspiciously at the warrant cards which were being held out to him. His T-shirt was not particularly clean and he looked as if he could have done with a wash and a shave. He didn't smell all that fragrant.
'Mr Newman? We're here about an incident Max was involved in at school. May we come in and talk to him, and to you, please?'
'A bit of a ruck between two school kids? How's that got anything to do with the filth?'
'More than a bit of a ruck, Mr Newman. The other boy has an arm in plaster. So, can we come in?'
With not much good grace, he turned and jerked his head for them to follow him, then led the way to a compact kitchen at the back of the house.
'Is Max in?'
'Bloody right he is, little bleeder. He's grounded, good and proper. Up in his bedroom sulking, playing with his little friend.'
The man sat down at the kitchen table, where there was an open newspaper, and a half-drunk mug of tea. Ted and Megan waited patiently for an offer to take a seat, which was not forthcoming.
'Has Max been in any trouble before, either at school or with the police?'
'He's a teenage lad, and he's no choirboy. 'Course he gets in trouble, it's only normal. He gets picked on, not being a big lad, so he sticks up for himself.'
'This would seem, on the face of it, to be a bit more to it than that, Mr Newman. We need to talk to your son, and we need you to be present, as an appropriate adult, while we question him. Would you mind asking him to come down to talk to us. This friend of his. Does he have a girlfriend, or is it another boy?'
The man snorted derisively.
'Are you asking if my lad's a woofter? Well, he bloody isn't. There is a lass he hangs round with. One of those, what do you call them, wears black all the time?'
'A Goth?'
'Summat like that, only she has pink hair sometimes, and different coloured make up. No, he'll be with Boris now.' His voice went up several decibels, without warning, so that both Ted and Megan winced involuntarily. 'Max? Bloody well get down here. Now.'
Ted always tried not to make judgements and assumptions. Nevertheless, he had formed something of a mental image of the teenager they had come to interview. They knew the boy was fifteen and Flip had described him reasonably well, giving an approximate idea of his height. What Ted was not remotely prepared for was the fact that he came into the kitchen with a large snake draped round his shoulders. The colour drained from Megan's face and she instinctively took a step behind Ted.
'This is our Max. And that's Boris,' the father sneered. 'Bloody thing. Eats us out of house and home, and there's only the wife working at the moment. I got laid off when the machine shop where I worked closed down. Production gone to bloody Poland or somewhere instead.'
'Boss, sorry ...' Megan said quietly, a note of desperation in her voice. Ted could tell immediately that she wasn't going to cope with an interview with a snake in the room, certainly not one of that size.
'Hello, Max, I'm DCI Darling, this is DC Jennings. We'd really like to talk to you, but it might be better all round if you could put Boris somewhere safe while we do.'
The boy's father was laughing scornfully now.
'He's not poisonous, our Boris.'
'Perhaps you could show me where you keep him, if that's all right with both of you?'
This gave Ted the ideal point of connection before beginning the interview. Something which may catch the teenager off guard, get him to lower his defences. Bonding over what he imagined to be a python was not quite what he had in mind, but he wasn't afraid of snakes so he was willing to give it a go. He could tell that Megan was dangerously close to hysterics and he needed to manage the situation. It would also provide him with a perfectly legitimate reason to see inside the youth's bedroom, in case anything caught his eye at first glance.
The youth was as wary of Ted as Megan was of the snake, but after they'd been together to see the animal safely returned to its tank, they had at least exchanged a few civil words, Max telling Ted that Boris was a royal python.
When the two of them went back downstairs, the father finally nodded at the two officers to sit down, although he stopped short of offering them a brew.
'Max, tell me about this incident with the younger boy, Philip. What happened exactly?'
The boy's eyes kept darting warily towards his father as he started to speak, looking as if he was expecting a clip round the ear at any moment.
'He kept following me round, the little sod. Spying on me, like.'
'And what were you doing?'
'I was just asking a kid for some of his biscuits. He was stuffing his face and I were starving. I spent me dinner money on food for Boris. He bloody likes his grub, our Boris.'
'Asking him, or just taking?'
'All right, I just grabbed a couple of biscuits. Big deal. Then this little kid, this Flip, or Flipped more like, starts jumping around and like karate kicking at me. I had to protect myself, so I just shoved him. He fell over and, like, bust his wrist or summat. I didn't mean to hurt him. Honest.'
'You been nicking off other kids, you little bastard?'
The father raised a threatening hand but stopped abruptly at Ted's warning.
'Mr Newman, no. Certainly not in my presence.'
The tension was broken by Ted's mobile phone. He took it out, glanced at the screen, then said, 'Excuse me, please, but I do need to take this.'
He listened carefully then replied briefly, 'On my way. Mr Newman, Max, you must excuse me, I have to be somewhere. I would like to come back later and talk to you both at length.'
As they were walking out to the car, Megan said shamefacedly, 'So sorry about that, boss. I can honestly cope with most things, but snakes? Ugh, no. My worst nightmare.'
'I hope you really do mean that about coping, Megan. That call was the RSPCA. Sally, Rob's fiancée. They've got another animal torture case, in the park again. I want to go and look at the scene myself, just in case the
re is a connection to our enquiry. I've seen the files on the others and they are horrific. Sally tells me this is the worst one to date. If that's true, feel free to stay in the car. Sadly, I don't have that option.'
Chapter Fifteen
'It really is all right to stay with the car if you want to, Megan,' Ted assured her as she locked the Ford up in the car park.
'It's fine boss, it's my job. As long as it isn't another snake, I'm sure I'll survive. But thanks.'
'Have a lozenge,' he offered, holding the bag in front of her. He'd already started on his first one, at the mere prospect of what lay ahead.
She shook her head.
'I'm not very keen on them, thanks.'
'I'm not really,' he confessed. 'I just find they help. And they remind me of my dad, so they're comforting in times of stress.'
As they walked across the park, following the directions Sally had given Ted over the phone, they could see that there was a uniformed police presence, as well as RSPCA officers, on site. An area in the trees had been cordoned off with incident tape. Sally saw them coming and walked over to meet them. Ted introduced her to Megan.
'Hi, Ted, thanks for coming so quickly. I phoned the nick to ask for some help to preserve the crime scene, especially in case there was any connection with your enquiry. Luckily it was found by one of the maintenance crew, who called it in straight away, but we have got a rather stroppy Jobsworth Joe Public over there, sticking his neb in.'
She nodded across to where a man in a cap and overcoat was looking across at the crime scene, his brows drawn down in a frown.
'I'm not interested in him for now, unless he was a witness. Tell me what we're dealing with.'
'It's a cat, Ted. Or what's left of one. And I know how you do love your moggies. We will, of course, be scanning for a microchip to see if we can trace an owner to let them know what happened. Naturally, we won't be going into any detail.'
Almost unconsciously, Ted put another lozenge in his mouth, although he hadn't yet finished the first. Then he and Megan followed Sally as she ducked under the tape and led the way into the trees, stopping only to slip on shoe coverings.