by John Mead
Matthew suggested Julie and he make tea, leaving the sisters alone in their joint grief for a while. Lukula confirmed that there wasn’t anything to add from the police file on the incident though there had been a link to a local gang. They left the tea and took the opportunity to look at Lynsey’s room. SOCOs had already been through it, taken the laptop and iPad for analysis, completed a brief search and left again.
‘There isn’t much here to help,’ Lukula commented, ‘somewhat bland and impersonal.’
‘Everything is neat and orderly,’ Merry agreed, scowling slightly as he felt he was missing something.
‘No passions,’ Lukula stated, ‘everything is in moderation, everything middle-of-the-road.’
‘What?’ Matthew asked, still wondering what it was he was missing in the room. It looked like the female version of his own teenage bedroom: neat rows of books, a few classics and school texts, a tidy desk, clothes folded in drawers and on hangers in the wardrobe, a couple of sci-fi posters though in Lynsey’s case they were arty landscapes.
‘No passion,’ Lukula elaborated, going through the desk, ‘no sign of teenage rebellion, no expressions of self or what she wanted to become. My room, when I was a teenager, was part tart’s bedroom and part a shrine to Madonna and Kylie, both wearing as skimpy costumes as I could find.’
‘Really, I had a poster showing Picard as a Borg,’ Matthew smiled at the memory.
‘Hmm, inserting things into older men turned you on did it?’ Lukula stated before she had time to think through what she said, then quickly changed topic, ‘This room is all about control and holding emotions at bay.’
‘This is a map of her running routes, isn’t it?’ Matthew said, opening a folded map he had pulled from the bottom of a draw, ignoring Lukula’s comment about his teenage years. He would miss Julie’s direct, often insightful, in-your-face take on life.
‘I would never have had you down as a Madonna fan,’ he told her as they headed downstairs, hoping she realised he hadn’t taken any offence at her comment.
‘Desperately wanted to be like her,’ Julie told him, remembering she had desperately wanted to screw Kylie, before saying, ‘Then I joined the army and got into guns in a big way.’ Both switching off their smiles as they walked back into the living room. They spent a little time getting a list of names and details of Lynsey’s few friends, including the boyfriend, patiently listening to anecdotes of Lynsey’s achievements.
‘Have you already contacted her father?’ Lukula asked, apparently forgiven for being the the attractive, self confident woman that Lynsey would now never be.
‘I did,’ the sister spoke up. ‘I got his wife, his third now. At least she sounded upset, when he came on it was only to ask why I was still bothering him after all this time; the fucking shit. Excuse my language, but she was still his daughter whatever else has happened.’
‘We didn’t keep in touch and I gave up trying to get anything from him,’ Joanne took up the story, her voice now tinged with anger. ‘Child support were useless as well. His number two soon got wise and left him and he is now on number three. She has him by the balls, and he has her daughter and son to look after as well as a son of their own.’ Although the father didn’t sound as if he were a part of Lynsey’s life Lukula made a mental note to get him checked out, nothing could be ruled out at this stage.
‘Going back to the bullying incident,’ Matthew judged the anger Mrs Hensley felt for her ex-husband might just carry her through the next few questions he had to ask. ‘Have there been any subsequent incidents? Has Lynsey had any problems at school or work, any threats, anything like that?’
‘No,’ Joanne emphatically shook her head, she wasn’t going to admit watching her daughter like a hawk for the slightest sign of anything untoward, but she was certain her daughter had been untroubled on that account. ‘Everything was going fine, she was at peace with herself again. I’m certain if there had been anything she would have had the strength to say.’
‘I have to ask this, Mrs Hensley, under the circumstances,’ Matthew had left the worst to last so they could leave if it was too much for the mother. ‘She was a teenager after all, virtually an adult, but was she involved with drugs in anyway?’
‘No she didn’t do drugs, didn’t drink either,’ Mrs Hensley, could be relaxed on this point, more so than most parents as she knew what her daughter thought on these subjects, ‘she was very anti-both. She had stayed in touch with the mental health people, it was why she wanted to study psychology. She organised various things at the school, to educate the younger ones for a healthier lifestyle.’
‘Did any of this bring her into contact with any of the local gangs, some of their members perhaps?’ Lukula wondered. ‘Had she argued with anyone, any jealousies?’
‘I doubt it, she was happy and looking forward to her future,’ Joanne sighed, feeling drained and without energy to continue, she wanted to help but her mind was blank.
3
‘There isn’t much to go on, is there?’ Merry wondered out loud, contemplating their next steps as Lukula drove him to Whitechapel tube. ‘What are your thoughts?’
‘We need to visit the school, run down any connections with this bullying incident. It’s also possible her anti-drugs thing may have brought her in contact with some of those involved in selling them,’ Julie summarised.
‘Or others with even worse inclinations for violence,’ Matthew commented, resignedly adding, ‘There are almost too many permutations at the moment but following up at the school seems sensible.’
‘You will be glad to hear that Ray has been allocated as office manager and is setting up the incident room, though it won’t be fully functioning until tomorrow,’ Lukula informed him as the car idled in a queue waiting for the lights. DS Raymond Rosen was a dour man in his late forties, he’d regularly worked with Merry and the inspector considered him the best operations manager in the Met despite Ray’s chequered past. ‘We should get a prelim on the PM and CCTV tomorrow. The govenor text me to say he had leaned on them, I think he’s hoping for a quick result on this one,’ Julie stated without thought, yawning as she did.
‘Understandable,’ Matthew said, ignoring the understandable fact that his govenor had text Julie rather than himself with the information, after all she would be the one remaining on the case, ‘what with having two people off on long term sick. And, to add to his woes I’ve put in for a transfer. I doubt I’ll see this case out, unless it is a random mugging and quickly goes nowhere.’
Julie bit her tongue, not wanting to say she knew Matthew’s transfer wasn’t exactly at his request, settling for, ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘Crap,’ Matthew laughed, somehow telling Julie made it all real and he could now acknowledge to himself the relief he felt at going – a new start indeed. ‘The govenor will be desperate for a new DI and I would think you are a shoo-in for that. You deserve it and you’ll be a damn sight better at it than me, you just need to ensure you complete the training.’ Julie gave him an embarrassed smile, but couldn’t help herself at being pleased by the thought. ‘How about a quick pint before you drop me, a double celebration on me?’ Matthew suggested.
Kathy Merry could smell the beer on her husband’s breath but she didn’t begrudge him a drink, he needed some downtime when coming home from a case, some space between home and work life. They talked about their daughters over a late dinner and she mentioned the need for a babysitter if he was going to be late tomorrow, as she had a parents meeting. Somehow this got them onto the topic of bullying and drugs in schools, both of which were things she was passionate about, being the deputy head for pastoral matters in a large, popular local secondary school.
‘Reality is I doubt if either can be completely kept out of any school,’ she admitted as they sat in bed, sipping their special herbal tea, which helped them both relax and get the sleep they needed to cope with the stress o
f their respective jobs. ‘Though staying vigilant and not being complacent, never thinking you are the one school in the country that is a no-go area for bullies or drugs, and, with luck you’ll keep it to a minimum.’ However, she was speaking to herself as Matthew had started to snore. She smiled, looking down at the man she loved, he was dependable and hardworking, he lived his life for his family and she hoped, prayed, that was enough for him. Occasionally though, despite all he said about wanting a quiet, regular life, she wondered if he needed more. Truth was she had not married him for being quiet and dependable.
Malcom Swift was at home working at his desk, going through emails on his laptop before tackling the pile of papers he’d brought home in his case. He had eaten with his current partner, a barrister at one of the Temple chambers, but given that she was as busy as he was they had agreed she wouldn’t stay the night. He already had a number of cases on the go: ranging from the straightforward, such as a domestic that had gotten out of hand and resulted in the wife being strangled, to the much more complex, in particular one involving a series of gang related knifings. The chief superintendent was coordinating the latter cases but in reality Swift was acting as second-in-command and, given that his team was carrying two officers on long term sick, manpower was tight.
It wasn’t the workload that worried Malcolm. Matthew was competent enough to head the inquiry team on the Lynsey Hensley case, especially with the help of Julie and Ray. What was playing on his mind was the Jody Grahame case. Inspector Paul Baynard, before he had fallen off a ladder cleaning his gutters and gone long-term sick, had already arrested a drug pusher for the murder. However, apart from a confession there was little evidence to tie the man to the crime and they had initially delayed bringing charges and held the suspect for nearly the full four days before deciding how to act. In the end other charges had been brought and the murder case had shifted to a lower profile. Given the obvious, if superficial, links to the Hensley case, a young blonde woman with head injuries attacked in a park, Swift was all too aware he should already have raised this with Matthew.
However, it wasn’t that straightforward and Malcolm had decided to speak with his boss before passing the file to Matthew. It was a sensible, cautious approach justified by not wanting to distract Matthew at such an early stage. Though Swift could not escape the self-recrimination that he was playing politics and covering his back, not wanting to jeopardise the ‘upward trajectory’ of his career. Small step by small step he felt himself becoming one of those senior officers he had once so despised, officers who put their career before good policing.
Julie looked at herself in the full length mirror, assessing whether at thirty-two her body had peaked. She had exercised and showered, as was her usual morning routine. She also ran five kilometres twice a week, spent an hour at the gym once a week and now stood contemplating the results of her efforts. She was finding it harder to motivate herself to maintain her rigorous exercise routine, of course the annual fitness test at work helped, but the increasing workload she faced got in the way, eating up her spare time. However, on reflection, she rather liked her slim, toned body and over the years had enhanced it with a number of tattoos, a couple to cover scars but on the whole she went for tasteful black ink designs.
She had inherited her looks and creativity from her French mother and grandmother, her temper and aggression from her Congolese maternal grandfather (an ex-Légion Étrangère) and her, now faded, Mancunian accent and an inability to commit to any serious relationship from her long absent father. ‘Not a bad package,’ she thought to herself, a little on the short side for her liking, but at five foot seven, on the whole, still desirable. She wondered what Sergeant Mehta would say if she were in the room now, would she admire or ignore her in her naked glory? Thinking about Mehta was a mistake, she was already running a little late but had no intention of going to work horny, so she opted to spend five minutes, well ten in reality, with one of her vibrators.
‘We have spent the morning speaking to the friends and the boyfriend,’ Merry explained to Swift and the team, as they sat in the musty briefing room at the Leman Street police station. Now largely disused and soon to be sold off to help fill the hole in the police budget, the old sixties station had ample, if frowsty, spare office space for the incident room and team briefing. ‘The mother gave us a list and it pretty well tallied with what was on Facebook and the victim’s phone. It’s a relatively small number of people all much the same age, but they seemed to spend a lot of time together, they are all into anti-drugs and healthy life choices campaigns. Unfortunately it didn’t give us very much.’
‘Any hint she had stepped on any toes as a result of her campaigning?’ Swift asked, showing he was listening even if he was preoccupied with texting as Merry spoke.
‘No, doesn’t seem so. The campaigns are national ones, Lynsey and her friends simply volunteered to help out: fundraising, events at local schools, that type of thing. Everyone said she was liked, that she worked hard but didn’t offend anyone, they were all pretty cut up about her death. The boyfriend wasn’t happy she had broken up with him but admitted it was a pretty lacklustre relationship and, with them expecting to go to different universities, he admitted the end was inevitable. He was also at some family do all day yesterday, had stacks of photos on his phone, we’re getting the locals to check it out but I don’t think he is involved as he seemed genuinely upset at her death.’
‘OK, what else?’ Swift asked, wanting the briefing to move on as he had a number of urgent things to chase up on the recent spate of stabbings the rest of the team were dealing with.
‘Prelim PM report has arrived, doesn’t add much to what we already know,’ Lukula had it open on her iPad but hardly needed to refer to it as Merry had asked her to lead on it and she had virtually memorised it in preparation. ‘It confirmed no evidence of recent sexual activity. No other wounds on the body other than the blow to the head. The skull fracture corresponds to a single blow from a hammer, they have given dimensions and forensics are preparing a 3D image for reference. The blow, struck directly from behind, is likely to have come from an assailant between five foot four to five foot eight. The blow was delivered with some force, to do the damage it did, but the use of a hammer means it could have been done by either a male or female. What’s more a reasonably fit woman could have dragged the body the few feet into the bushes. The apparent posing of the body, with the arms folded across the chest, could have been accidental. Time of death is confirmed as being within five minutes of it being called in at three twenty in the afternoon. We are currently working on a time frame of between three and three fifteen when she was attacked, with the key period being three to three thirty overall.
‘Old scarring on her lower arms and thighs, most likely to be the result of self-harming, ties in with what the mother has told us. Toxicology is still being worked on but the preliminary report should be ready late tomorrow. Although, given her lifestyle, I can’t see her taking drugs and, apart from the pill, her mother said she wasn’t on any medication. On the plus side forensics have lifted a number of prints from the plastic Tesco bag they think the hammer was in and at the moment they are trying to work out if these came from more than one person. Unfortunately, none of the prints are in the system and, given the number of people who could have handled the bag, none of them may be the attacker’s. The blood on the bag has been matched to the victim. SOCOs also recovered some trace fibres from under her arms, where she was lifted, which might help if we get a suspect. Likelihood of DNA is a bit more fraught but it’s early days.’
‘Nothing was taken?’ Swift turned back to Merry.
‘Not that we can find, the mother confirmed all her belongings were still on her,’ Matthew paused, knowing Swift didn’t like uncertainty.
‘I sense a but coming,’ Swift said, already guessing what the cautious DI was about to say.
‘We can’t rule out a robbery gone wrong. The place
where she was killed is quiet and not overlooked although anyone hanging around would be spotted and likely to be reported, especially with the play area nearby.’
‘So, someone seizing an opportunity, bungles it and suddenly it’s murder,’ Swift summed up, sensing this was going to be the unsatisfactory outcome they would be left with in the end. ‘Which brings us to CCTV.’
‘Ehh, yes, again only a prelim,’ Julie tapped at her iPad, she’d had less time to study this so wanted the summary in front of her. ‘As yet nothing obvious jumps out. They have cameras at the entrances, the petrol station and around the front of the high-rises but not where the walls back onto the park and coverage is much less around the eastern end. The two DCs seconded from the local CID have been working on the tapes with tech support. Not one hundred per cent coverage but, for the half hour leading up to the attack, everyone seen going into the gardens also comes out within an acceptable time frame, apart that is from our two witnesses and Lynsey. The timelines on both witnesses pan out and, as yet, there is no other connection between them and Lynsey, so I think they are ruled out.’ Swift and Merry both nodded in agreement. ‘We’ll continue checking further back on the tapes, up to an hour before Lynsey was attacked, but at present there’s nothing suspicious showing up. There are no other witnesses coming forward, the local uniforms canvassing the area haven’t come up with any leads and the press statement put out appealing for help hasn’t produced much either, just some reports about youths hanging around the playground last week and drunks spotted in the area.’