by MA Comley
‘What about his car, sir? Shall I put out a bulletin for that?’ Jason asked enthusiastically.
‘Yes, that has to be our priority now. We had a brief look in the basement garage, but the parking attendant said it wasn’t in its usual spot, and he wasn’t on duty when Ross left for the evening – strange, but there we go. If we find the car, then maybe it’ll give us an inkling as to where this case is going to lead us, because as it stands, I really don’t have a clue.’
‘Maybe it was a car-jacking incident, sir,’ Sally Foxley suggested.
‘Maybe, Sally, but then, why kill him? Also, why take him out to a field miles away, kill him, then set fire to the body?’
Sally shrugged. ‘Fair point, sir.’
Hero turned to face Julie. ‘Any news from the pathologist when you rang?’
‘No, she was performing a post-mortem. Her assistant said she would ask Susan to ring once she’d finished.’
‘Great. Not good news there then. I just don’t know where to start on this one, guys.’
‘What about what we discussed last night, boss?’ Julie enquired.
Hero frowned. ‘Remind me, Julie?’
‘The fiancée aspect,’ she replied, sighing.
‘Ah yes, she was a piece of work. First impressions weren’t good, not to me, anyway. Turns out she used to be an escort and met Ross through her work. That was a few months ago. They got engaged not long after, and she quickly moved into his home. She doesn’t get on too well with the family by all accounts, either. Hardly surprising, really, given that Ross’s parents seem down-to-earth folks. I should imagine it’s hard to swallow accepting an escort as your future daughter-in-law, eh?’
The team responded with a mixture of thoughtful nods and smirks.
‘Want me to delve into her background, sir?’ Sally asked.
‘If you would, Sally, dig deep, very deep. Julie and I think that her ex-pimp might have come up with some form of retribution plan to punish Ross for enticing her away from him. It might be a case of wishful thinking on our part, but it’s still something we should be considering.’
Julie cleared her throat. ‘Is it too soon to call a press conference? If only to seek the public’s help, just in case the CCTV footage comes back with nothing.’
‘Good idea. The sooner the better, Julie. Will you organise that? Anything else that we’re missing?’
Most of the team either shrugged or shook their heads.
‘Okay, then I think you all have enough to be getting on with. I have shitty paperwork to keep me occupied for the next few hours. We’ll exchange information over lunch. I fancy a trip out today, my treat.’
Hero noted his team’s spirit rise immediately as they returned to their desks.
‘Have you won the lottery, sir?’ Julie asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.
‘Nope, just trying to keep everyone’s morale up, Sergeant.’ He smiled and walked back into his office.
At five minutes to noon, he placed the final letter on the completed pile and stretched his arms above his head, easing the knots out of his spine before he left the office to join his team, hopeful they had some good news for him.
Julie was standing alongside Jason, viewing the CCTV footage. ‘You might want to see this, boss.’
Hero briskly moved across the room and leaned over Jason’s shoulder. ‘What am I looking at?’
‘If you note the time in the corner, sir, you’re seeing Laurence Whitehall returning to the main foyer of Spalding Enterprise at six thirty on the evening Ross Spalding was killed.’
Hero turned to Julie. ‘Didn’t Whitehall say that he returned to the building, looking for Ross?’
She flipped open her notebook and ran a finger down the page, which had Laurence’s statement written on it. Julie stabbed at the page a few times. ‘Yes, he said he returned at six thirty to search for Ross but couldn’t find him. He then went down to the garage to see if his car was parked in its usual spot – it wasn’t.’
‘Hmm … did he tell us that information knowing that he’d been caught on camera? That’s the question we need answering, but how, when the man is now bloody dead?’
‘Not sure we can, boss,’ Jason replied, looking up at Hero.
Hero stood upright and shook his head. ‘Bloody frustrating, that’s what it is. Why did Laurence have to go and die on us?’
‘Maybe the press conference will shed some light on things,’ Julie suggested. ‘I’ve called one for four this afternoon, sir. That’s the earliest they could fit you in.’
‘That sounds good to me. Right, come on, everyone, we’re off. Let’s take a break while we can. Call it a working lunch – you can tell me what your morning’s research has come up with.’
The team gathered their notebooks and coats and left the incident room en masse. They walked across the road to The Dog and Duck. Hero bought a round of soft drinks and ordered everyone’s choice of sandwich and a couple of portions of chips for them to share. The group found a large table with benches on either side and settled down to discuss the case.
‘Right, apart from the CCTV footage placing Laurence Whitehall back at the office, what else has this morning’s endeavours uncovered?’
‘Well,’ Julie said, ‘looking into the fiancée’s background, I think we can rule out a narked pimp as it appears she worked for a legit escort agency, if you can call that type of business legit.’ Julie mumbled the final part of her sentence, letting everyone know how disgusted she was by the trade.
‘Maybe there are a few legitimate ones out there, Julie. Maybe it’s not all about taking the men for a ride, so to speak, at least where their money is concerned. Let’s not judge her too soon.’
A few of the men sniggered.
Julie rolled her eyes, and Hero stifled the chuckle threatening to break free.
‘Who was looking into the missing car?’ Hero scanned the team.
Lance Powell raised his hand. ‘I was – or I should say am – sir. Nothing so far. I’ve put out an alert up and down the country. I’m hoping something will come our way from that soon.’
‘It better. We need that damn car. It could have vital evidence inside. What else do we have?’
Sally spoke next. ‘I’ve been digging into the backgrounds of Laurence Whitehall and the rest of the employees you spoke to yesterday, sir. The thing that really struck me as odd was that Laurence was a former MI5 agent.’
Hero’s ears pricked up. ‘Was he now? Why do you think he didn’t wave that piece of news under our noses?’
Julie placed a thoughtful thumb and finger around her chin. ‘That would give him a certain amount of contacts, valuable contacts with certain military skills he could count on, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Contacts capable of abducting his business partner, bundling him into a car, and driving him several miles outside the city to a deserted field. Ross Spalding was killed with a bullet to the head, execution style! Isn’t that what agents are renowned for? Or have I been watching too many James Bond movies?’
‘Sounds as though you’ve hit the nail on the head to me, sir,’ Julie agreed. ‘What about the car? Are we likely to locate it if that’s the case? Wouldn’t these guys have contacts who could strip it down and have it roadworthy again, displaying false plates, within hours?’
Hero’s heart sank as the waitress placed all the sandwiches on the table and the team reached for the snack they’d ordered. ‘That’s the disappointing part, Julie. Anyone is capable of going down that route, not just MI5. If the murderer has an illegal gun to hand, then he’s sure to know his way around the underworld.’
‘We have to hope that the press conference comes back with a result this afternoon then. Do you want someone to stay behind and man the phones this evening?’ Julie asked.
The whole team appeared to pause what they were doing and glanced Hero’s way.
‘I don’t think so. Let’s hand it over to uniform to deal with the calls and we’ll pick up the slack in the
morning.’
Everyone fell silent for a moment as they tucked into their lunch.
Then Jason said, ‘Sorry to change the subject, sir, but is anyone watching that drama on the Beeb called Line of Duty? Bloody incredible and so true to life.’
Sally’s eyes lit up. ‘It’s amazing. I thought the third series was fantastic and couldn’t be beaten, but this one … well, I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t watched it yet, but bloody hell, it ain’t half good, as my old mum used to say.’
Hero frowned. ‘Not heard of it before. Maybe I’ll find some downtime and watch it on catch-up TV. Long time since I’ve seen a decent cop show on the box. Can’t stand all this Midsomer Murders malarkey. Too tame for me.’
They spent the rest of the lunch hour discussing various British and US police dramas, and Hero took out his notebook and jotted down some of his team’s suggestions. ‘The trouble is, with three kids in the house, I have to resort to watching Disney films over and over again. ‘Ah, the exciting life of a DI in the Greater Manchester Police,’ I hear you cry.’
Laughter broke out and continued as each of them, except for Julie, spoke about what oddities they were subjected to watch during their childhood living with their parents.
Hero leaned over and whispered, ‘Everything all right, Julie?’
She returned a half-smile, and Hero noticed her eyes welling up with tears. ‘I’m fine, just reflecting how much I miss Mum.’
He placed a comforting hand on her forearm. ‘I’m sorry. Have you considered going to counselling, Julie?’
She snatched her arm away and glared at him. ‘I’m not unstable, sir, just grieving the loss of someone close to me.’
‘I know. I didn’t mean to cause any offence. It might be worth looking into. You do seem to blow hot and cold at times.’
The shock resonating on Julie’s face told him he’d insulted her. Before he had a chance to apologise, Julie shot out of her seat and rushed off to the toilet. Hero slapped his thigh, disgusted by his own foot-in-mouth stupidity.
Sally left her seat and whispered as she passed him, ‘Leave her to me, sir. She’ll be fine in a mo.’
‘We’ll finish up here and start back. Tell her I didn’t mean anything by what I said. We’ll see you back at the station.’
The male members of the team had continued their conversation, oblivious to what had gone on.
‘Right, are we ready then, gents?’
They all downed their drinks and left the pub. Hero went straight to his office to prepare for the press conference due to take place in a few hours, and just as he settled down behind his desk, the landline rang.
‘Hello, DI Nelson. How can I help?’
‘Ah, Hero, I’m glad I caught you. It’s Susan.’
‘Hello, my favourite pathologist, what news do you have for me?’
Susan laughed. ‘That’ll be a first, me being called someone’s favourite anything. Right, I finally got around to doing the PM on Ross Spalding, I had to wait for his body to stop smouldering before I cut him open.’
Hero cringed. ‘Too much information, especially after I’ve just eaten a barbecued chicken sandwich for lunch.’
‘Ha, it’s all right for some. I haven’t eaten since last night’s pizza. Mind you it was a huge sixteen-incher from Domino’s …’
‘Susan, you were saying?’
‘Oh yes, sorry. Well, nothing much to tell really. The gunshot to the back of the head killed him, so thankfully, he was dead before the murderer poured the petrol over him and set light to his body.’
‘I don’t suppose you can tell me if there were any defence wounds on his hands?’
‘Not that I noticed. My take on the scenario is that he was led to the field with the gun pointed at the back of his head. Maybe he knew the killer, maybe not. We can definitely rule out robbery, as his wallet was intact. My guys are running tests for fingerprints on the bag and the wallet. Someone must have removed Spalding’s wallet from his pocket or wherever he kept it. Why they resisted the temptation to strip it of the money is a tad puzzling.’
‘Okay, something came to light during our research this morning, that I want to run past you.’
‘I’m listening. Sounds intriguing.’
‘Yes and no. Frustrating, I’d call it. By the way, you should have a Laurence Whitehall appearing on your doorstep soon.’
‘Already sitting in a fridge drawer, awaiting a Y-section. Who is he?’
‘That’s the frustrating part. Up until he dropped down dead, he was our lead suspect. Turns out he was an ex-MI5 agent.’
‘Whoa, hold your horses … and you think he was guilty of killing Spalding?’
‘It fits. They prefer to kill their victims using execution-style killings, don’t they?’
‘I think that’s you letting your imagination run away from you, Inspector. I can’t say I’ve seen much proof of that come into my theatre.’
‘Damn, I was sure I was onto something there. Anyway, no point thinking along those lines now that he’s snuffed it, as well. We’ll need the PM results on that one, too, when you get around to cutting him open. I was questioning him at the time, so there’s sure to be a complaint raised against me.’
‘What a shame. You reckon it was his heart?’
‘Yep, can’t think what else it could be. It was the second round of questioning. Maybe he got himself worked up in between interviews. Anyway, he’s still not off the suspect list, even if he has passed away. Maybe it was the stress of killing Spalding that tipped him over the edge. Who bloody knows?’
‘I’ll let you know what I think when I’ve finished the PM. Going back to the victim, if I may?’
‘Sorry, I thought you’d finished.’
‘I have really. Sorry, I can’t be more help on this one. His body was burned for a reason, maybe to destroy evidence, maybe the killer had something else in mind. But as far as I’m concerned, I can’t give you more than I’ve already given you. I’ll be performing the PM on Laurence Whitehall sometime this afternoon. I’ll pay particular attention to his heart but also look for any form of poison, just in case he decided to end his life before you could question him again.’
‘You think? Christ, that sort of scenario didn’t even cross my mind. He seemed an anxious man in some ways. For a start, he was desperately trying to persuade Ross Spalding to float his business on the stock markets. What else could’ve he been guilty of?’
‘That’s your department, I believe. Here endeth my call.’
‘Thanks for the update, Susan. Speak soon.’ Hero hung up, and there was a knock on his closed door. ‘Come in.’
Julie eased open the door and poked her head into the room. He could tell she had been crying, and his heart lurched with guilt. ‘Take a seat, Julie. I think we need to have a good chat, if only to clear the air.’
‘It’s not necessary, sir. I’m being overly sensitive at the moment. I’m aware of that.’
‘Nonsense, you know what a silly buffoon I can be at times. I apologise for inserting my size tens in my mouth before putting my brain into gear first.’
‘Really, boss, there’s no need for you to apologise, not when you’re right. I’ll make the appointment to see the counsellor today. Do you think it will hamper my chances of going for promotion?’
‘Not in the slightest. Good for you. You’re a good copper, Julie, one of the best I’ve worked with, putting your moods aside, that is.’ He chuckled, hoping to break the ice even more between them.
The edges of his partner’s mouth shifted slightly. That was the closest she was going to get to a smile. ‘Then I’d like to go for the promotion, sir, if that’s all right with you?’
‘Of course it is. I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise, and there is no way I would ever stand in another copper’s way if they want to step onto the next rung of the ladder. I’m happy for you.’
‘Thank you, sir. Even if I’m an emotional wreck right now?’
‘We all get days
like that, Julie. Some more than others. You’ve had a lot to contend with in the past few years. You know my door is always open if ever you need a chat, right?’
‘Yes, sir. Although I try not to bring my woes to work, not often, anyway.’
‘If you need some time off to sort yourself out, you’ve only got to ask. I’m not a complete ogre, you know.’
‘I know. I appreciate that, boss. But the best place for me is to be right here, among friends.’
‘All right. Let’s not dwell on the matter then. It only makes things worse. While I’m getting ready for the press conference, I’d like you to ring Spalding’s solicitor, see if there’s a will or if he took out any recent life insurance policies.’
‘I’ll get started on that now. Thanks for understanding, boss.’ A glimmer of a smile touched Julie’s lips before she turned and walked out of the office.
Hero felt pleased with the way he’d handled his partner this time around. He hadn’t always been so considerate in the past, but maybe compassion for dealing with other people’s plights came with age. That’s it, boy – you’re getting old. At thirty-three! He laughed at his own joke and returned to how he planned to address the nation during the press conference.
Two hours later, Hero walked down the concrete stairs of the station to the conference room on the ground floor.
Dave Wheeler, his mate of a few years now, from the Manchester Evening News, was standing by the doorway when he entered the room. ‘Hi, Dave. Can you stick around for a few minutes after the conference?’
‘Sure, anything wrong?’
Hero smiled. ‘I’ll tell you then,’ he replied, aware that several of the nearby reporters’ ears had pricked up. He made his way over to the table that was decked out in the usual navy tablecloth with the constabulary crest emblazoned across the centre. He took his seat behind his name plaque and poured himself a glass of water, while the reporters assembled in their seats ahead of him. The police press organiser called everyone to attention, and the cameraman gave Hero the thumbs-up to begin.
‘Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for attending this conference at short notice. There’s no other way to say this. I’m pleading with the public to help us out on a new case we’re trying to solve. Mr. Ross Spalding, a local entrepreneur, was found murdered in a field close to Bolton on Tuesday, May second. Clues are few and far between at this point. All we know is that Mr. Spalding collected his car from the basement car park of Spalding Enterprise, located in Manchester city centre. Between six and six fifteen. We want to know if anyone either saw Mr. Spalding’s black BMW i8 series sports car, registration SPA 2017, that night, or has spotted the car parked anywhere since.’ He held up a picture of the model in question.