By twenty past he was done, and already he felt eyes upon him as café staff waited to free up his table. Hyenas set to pounce on the straggler within the herd. He considered ordering another coffee, but if he did so he would have to mention the fact that they had got his order wrong first time around. Normally he would enjoy a debate where he might get the opportunity to lambaste the entire free world, but today he wasn’t in the mood. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t feeling at his best, or could the thought of the imminent briefing be getting to him? Either was possible. But maybe, just maybe, he was maturing. Smiling at the thought, Bliss tore a sheet from his notebook and wrote: Cheer up or get another job! He folded the sheet twice and left the note wedged beneath his plate, then got to his feet. As he yanked open the door, he glanced over his shoulder and called out to the waitress, ‘Bye, sweetheart. I’ve left you a tip.’
Bliss turned up his coat collar, crossed over the road and stood outside the entrance to Tesco, hands buried deep inside his pockets. The wind had got up again, and the dreary sky was threatening yet more rain. From this vantage point he could see anyone approaching and entering the café, and only now did he realise that when Weller finally arrived, Bliss would either have to disappoint the man or return to the café and face the wrath of a waitress scorned. Jump off that bridge when you get to it, he told himself. He stamped his feet a couple of times and hunched further into his coat, wishing he’d ordered that second coffee after all.
By the time Bliss got back to Thorpe Wood, DC Chandler had set up the Major Inquiry Room and was waiting for him in his office. ‘Anything to report?’ he asked her, stripping off his coat, flapping rainwater from it before hanging it on the door.
‘Not really, boss. I’ve managed to cobble together a small team, but more bodies are promised. Sykes was prowling around looking for you, and if he doesn’t make the tail end of the briefing, he wants to see you in his office immediately afterwards.’
Bliss groaned. Stuart Sykes was the superintendent he’d made an enemy of. A slick political animal, Sykes had been destined for the very top, but as the officer in overall charge at the time the previous murder case went tits up, Sykes had been pushed onto his sword by way of punishment. There would be no further promotions, so the whisper around the station went, and in the man’s mind there was only one person to blame. It was usually the case that a DI would report to a Detective Chief Inspector, but Bliss was still on some half-arsed form of probation, and therefore had to suffer the ignominy of being supervised by the superintendent instead.
‘I’ll see if I can find a way to avoid that pleasure as long as possible,’ Bliss told her. He rubbed a finger over a small, jagged scar on his forehead. It looked like the Nike logo in reverse. A legacy from a youthful prank that went wrong, the tiny nub of hard skin was like a magnet for his hands whenever he felt under pressure.
Chandler sniggered. ‘I’m sure you will. Oh, I forgot to mention, the two boys who unearthed our Jane Doe have been questioned and they both tell the same story: they did not move the bones. One of them admitted to putting a hand on the skull, but that’s all.’
Bliss recalled thinking how he would have done exactly the same thing in their shoes. ‘Fair enough. I didn’t think that would go anywhere.’
‘Enjoy your lunch?’ Chandler asked. It was no casual throwaway question.
He smiled. ‘For your information I was on my own. And no, I didn’t enjoy it.’
He’d waited around until just after one, but Weller hadn’t shown. By then Bliss was cold, wet, tired and miserable, and even the thought of the briefing didn’t seem quite so bad. He’d also been propositioned twice, once by a skanky-looking young woman offering a hand job for twenty quid, and then by a large male of eastern European extraction who offered some crack for the same figure. Bliss reacted the same way both times: told them he’d rather burn the money, suggested they both get proper jobs, then flashed his warrant card and insisted they fuck off away from him.
‘Maybe you should ask the Bone Woman to lunch next time,’ Chandler said, snagging back his attention.
Bliss jabbed a finger at her. ‘Don’t even go there, Penny. Just don’t. And now, I think it may be time to get back on the horse.’
Recent renovations to part of the CID floor had created a new state-of-the-art Major Incident Room. A cluster of powerful computers sat ranged along one wall in a recessed bay, each connected to every national police database and information service. A data projector hung suspended from the ceiling, its lens focused on an interactive whiteboard, which was connected to a sleek laptop computer. The new system allowed a huge amount of case information to be stored on the local network rather than be erased each time the boards became full. Bliss had yet to have the pleasure of using it, but a half-day training session had left him feeling reasonably confident. Whilst he had by no means fully embraced the age of the microchip, neither was he a technophobe. Or a technotard, as Penny liked to call him when he cursed at his own laptop.
Bliss stood before the huge whiteboard now, facing a team of four detectives and three uniformed officers. One of the standard template pages contained a checklist.
Approach
Point of Entry
Activities Within
Exit
Transfer of Evidence
Number of Perpetrators
Contact Trace
Type of Crime
Of the eight items listed, notations had been made against only two. All they had so far was the type of crime and the activities carried out within the SOC. Meagre pickings, Bliss thought. But perhaps quality was going to prove better than quantity at this stage.
‘Thanks for making this initial briefing,’ he said, taking a moment to make eye contact with everyone. ‘Let me start by laying out what we’re looking at here.’
He turned side on, navigated to a second page and jabbed a finger at a series of notations made earlier by Chandler. ‘Yesterday evening, human remains were discovered in Bretton Woods by two young lads. This morning it was confirmed that the remains are of a young IC1 female, possibly approaching her mid-twenties. The victim has been dead for approximately twelve to sixteen years, and this team has been designated a murder squad because the hospital doctor confirmed cause of death as strangulation. Tragically, our victim was also in the early stages of pregnancy when she was murdered, so I guess you could say there are actually two victims to consider. Now then, because we have had the services of an additional expert in these matters, we find ourselves in the unusual position of having quite a bit of information to work with at this relatively early stage.’
Bliss used the electronic pen to pull up a menu from which he selected a third stored page of information. He spent the next few minutes relating the details provided by Emily Grant at the mortuary that morning. As he was nearing the end of his summary, one of the uniforms raised himself off the edge of a desk and said, ‘How reliable is this info, sir? I mean, it sounds like a lot of guesswork to me.’
Fixing the young officer with a tight glare, Bliss snapped off his response. ‘This is the first time you’ve worked with me, Constable, so I’ll allow you this one life. Please note for future reference that I prefer to complete my briefing without interruption. You can ask as many questions as you like when I’m finished, but while I’m talking I want you to listen and make mental notes. However, as you have asked, I will give you an answer. The information we received from Miss Grant should be viewed as inquiry guidelines based on educated deduction. That is to say, we follow the path as far as it will go and treat it as if it had come from a pathologist or forensic scientist.’
He nodded and smiled at the officer, whose cheeks were by now inflamed. ‘Don’t worry about it, Constable...?’
‘Redpath, sir.’
‘You’ll learn as you go on, Redpath. Each of us SIOs has our own way of working, and they’re important to us when we’re under pressure. Just at this moment you may consider me an anal-retentive prick, but as the buck
stops with me I’m entitled to a few quirks.’ Bliss paused to allow a few nervous laughs to echo around the room.
‘Anyhow, as you will all see from the evidence board here, we will be working on the assumption that our Jane Doe was strangled to death shortly after being knocked down by a vehicle, and then buried somewhere near the Fletton lake where the old brick pits used to be. Her remains were then dug up and reburied over at Bretton Woods about three to four years ago.
‘So, we need to know who she is, and when exactly she was murdered. The steel rod in her leg may lead us to a name, at least, but let’s not count any chickens at this stage. The fact that her body was moved elsewhere after so many years suggests to me that the reason behind it is significant. Needless to say, we will look to focus on that. I intend to split the team into two, one working from the time of death forwards, the other working from the time of reburial backwards. Hopefully we’ll all meet in the middle and shake hands.’
This raised a further gentle ripple of laughter. Bliss held up a hand to quieten them down again. He’d turned the valve just enough for a small measure of relief. Looking around at the squad he was pleased to see attentive faces, eyes narrowed in concentration. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to remind them of their commitment.
‘Okay, listen up. Just because we’re dealing with skeletal remains rather than a flesh-covered corpse, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do everything we can to find the killer. And that’s exactly what our prey is: a killer. I’ve heard some officers calling these people the ‘unsub’, the unknown subject, but that’s all American TV and FBI fiction bollocks. Our target is a vicious, murdering bastard. You may call him a VMB for short if you like.
‘When this briefing is over, DC Chandler will allocate actions for you all. Other officers will join this squad over the next day or two. For the moment, DC Chandler will supervise this office and you will report any findings to her. We have a civilian administrator coming in to handle all the paperwork and databases, so no need to concern yourselves with that side of things. Just get out there and get digging… no pun intended. Now, any questions?’
Fifteen minutes later, Bliss left the room, asking Chandler to join him out in the corridor for a moment. In her eyes he could see both surprise and excitement at being asked to supervise. He leaned back against a wall, hands in pockets.
‘That seemed to go well.’
She nodded. ‘I thought so.’
‘I didn’t even fuck up on the new system. And thanks for getting all that set up, by the way.’
‘No problem, boss. I’m nothing if not organised.’
‘And maybe just a little bit scared right now?’
Chandler’s mouth curled and twisted in mock agony. ‘Maybe a smidgen.’
Bliss was content with what he saw in her eyes. ‘Do your best, Penny. I’ll see if I can get a DS in tomorrow to take over, because I will want you with me. But you know what’s needed here. Use this opportunity to make a name for yourself. I want someone going back through MisPer reports during the time period our victim would have gone missing, I want someone to get us an ordnance survey map of the two SOC areas as they were during the relevant time periods, and I want you to catch up with Emily and see if she has anything else for us.’
Chandler gave a confident nod. ‘Will do, boss. What about organising a search over at the lake?’
‘Not yet. Too much manpower required for my level of authority. I’ll have to run it by Sykes when he catches up with me.’
‘Okay. Is that it, boss?’
Bliss nodded. ‘I think so. Are you up for it, Penny?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sure?’
‘Positive.’
‘Good. Then knock them dead.’
‘I will. Where will you be?’
‘Avoiding Sykes,’ Bliss replied. And walked swiftly away.
Chapter 6
Penny Chandler couldn’t believe how nervous she felt. The DI was right: she knew what had to be done, the procedures to follow, and was acquainted with most of the officers involved. Even so, this was the first time she had been given the huge responsibility for running a Major Inquiry Room and issuing actions. Actions were essentially instructions for furthering the investigation, and as such they were crucial. It wasn’t merely a case of handing them out to anyone, either; you had to try and select the right people for the right job. Some officers were better with the public, while other strengths lay in research or close observation, even interviews. Choices and decisions made at this stage of a case could make or break it.
After Bliss had left her alone with her thoughts, Chandler walked swiftly along the corridor and slipped into the toilet, grateful to find it empty. In the soap-spotted mirror, her own inquiring gaze regarded the person the team would see. Dull eyes, ringed by neglect and lack of sleep. Too many deep ridges on her forehead for someone her age, and it looked as if crows had been tap-dancing in the make-up around her mouth. Not a pretty sight if she was readying herself for a night out, Chandler decided, but here in this place the look would work in her favour. The face staring back at her now was mature and responsible. It was a take charge face. She could only hope the brain was as prepared.
Before returning to the room, she fetched herself a cup of tea from the canteen, the desire for a prop outweighing any need to quench a thirst. When she rejoined the squad, Chandler felt the eyes of every officer upon her. Several minutes had passed since she and Bliss had left the room, and tongues would not have been idle. Affecting a warm smile, she strode briskly across to the whiteboard, projecting a great deal more confidence than she felt. She took a sip from the mug, composing herself before looking up.
‘As DI Bliss informed you,’ Chandler began after clearing her throat, ‘we’ll be forming two teams. Team A will start by tracking down all unresolved female MisPer reports made between ninety and ninety-three. Narrow the search down to an age range of eighteen to thirty. Oh, and only IC1, as well. You’ll need to go through both computer and paper records…’
‘Which of us are in Team A?’ one of the suits asked.
Chandler swallowed quickly, her hands starting to sweat, an anxious fluttering developing in her stomach. Here was the first test. Bliss had earlier made it clear about his dislike of being interrupted when in full flow, but Chandler was not the senior investigating officer for this case, and as such she was seen as fair game. Now was as good a time as any to put down a marker. Eyeballing her colleague, Penny Chandler added steel to her gaze.
‘Does that sound like an interesting line of investigation to you, DC Coleman?’ she asked.
‘It does, yes.’
‘Well, I believe Team A will need patience in abundance, and as you seem to be lacking that particular virtue, I think Team B might be better suited. Okay?’
Chandler maintained eye contact. She and Coleman were equal in rank, but she’d been handed the helm and it was her arse on the line. The squad had to know she was serious. ‘Coleman?’ she prompted.
The DC gave a reluctant nod of the head.
‘Good. Right then, it’s like this: we have a single investigation split into two separate strands, so at this early stage I want you all to know about each action, while it’s still manageable, just in case you get shipped across to the other team. Now, once you have a list from the MisPer angle, let’s see if you can track down any reports relating to an incident where an RTA was called in on the same day, specifically one where no victim was subsequently discovered. Clutching at straws there, I realise, but it’s worth checking out. Another avenue once you have relevant names and dates is to have someone look through the local newspaper archives. Make a note of the fact that our victim had major surgery on her leg – this may come up somewhere in a report. Finally, and I know this is reaching further still, cross-check the dates with any reports relating to the lake over at Fletton. Any reported accident in the same vicinity will obviously be of major interest.’
Overlooking something at this juncture might prove c
rucial, and Chandler didn’t want to blow this opportunity, so she mentally checked off the list inside her head. She swallowed some more tea to buy some time, took a breath and continued.
‘Team B will be working backwards, so your area of focus will be the two thousand and three to two thousand and four period relating to any reported incidents over at Bretton Woods and at Fletton lake. Anything from both on the same night and I’ll eat my hat, but find me or DI Bliss any time of the day or night if you do get a hit that good. I also want someone concentrating on why the remains were moved – what happened over at the lake during that period? What might spur someone into such a drastic act?’
While outlining the formal actions, Chandler was running through the possible permutations of officers. Their faces gave each of them away: overall interest in the case, eagerness to be involved, or lack of either. As in any job, some people were here for the salary and pension, content to lurk in the shadows and do just enough to get by. But even they had their uses, she reflected. By the time she was done talking, she thought she had the balance about right. Without pause for second-guessing herself, she assigned the officers and gave out the assignments. There were no questions and everyone seemed satisfied. When it was over, Chandler blew out a sigh of relief and dismissed the squad. As they began to file out of the door, she made a note on the board of the actions and the names of everyone who had been in attendance.
A few minutes later she was back at her own desk in the main CID area, assessing her moment in the spotlight, eventually deciding she was happy enough with her performance. It wasn’t a perfect ten, perhaps, but neither had she screwed the pooch. From the corner of her eye she could see faces turned her way, conversations taking place. Close colleagues were aware that she had been given an opportunity to take a step forward. She found herself listening for sniggers, but none came. Self-doubt was her main weakness, but she was working on it. The boss’s confidence in her was a major boost.
Bad to the Bone Page 6