by Jay Nadal
He smiled to himself as he stared up at the ceiling whilst Sally ducked under the covers to pleasure him. He loved her sexual appetite.
Euphoria washed over him as she teased him with her tongue. His body jerked, his heart raced, and he throbbed with ecstasy. But his mind flicked back to Karen as he recalled the events of this evening. He had played along with her games, leading her on a merry dance. He couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been to follow him. Her surveillance tactics were piss poor in his opinion. He almost burst out laughing when he recalled standing in the off-licence, and glancing at the CCTV monitor behind the counter. Karen lurked outside looking at him through the glass picture window.
Karen would have to try harder.
Sally snapped him back to the present as she emerged from under the covers and positioned herself astride of him. “Now for round two,” she cooed.
41
Like she did most mornings, Karen made herself a coffee in the office kitchen and strolled back to her office. On this occasion, she sat in silence just staring at a blank computer screen for over an hour. Most of the team weren’t in yet. Apart from Jade, who had popped her head around the corner just to say hi.
It was one of those mornings where she couldn’t shake off the melancholy. It hovered over her like a void. A never-ending dark void that consumed everything. It came and went, often without reason or warning, and today was one of those days. It left her feeling nothing. Empty. As she sat in silence she knew the emptiness was always there; but she had made a decent attempt at hiding it, masking it with normal human emotions. But what defined normal?
Karen wished she had the answers, but whenever she stopped to examine her feelings, she found no plausible reasons as to why her mood plummeted faster than the Tower of Terror ride at Disney.
“Pull yourself out of this. Come on. You’ve got to do this,” she whispered to herself. She shook her head, flexed her fingers, and willed herself to get her arse in gear.
Karen came back to the CCTV footage of the estate, and the restaurant on the night that Macholl had turned up. She reviewed the tapes, repeating several times, stopping at random points whenever she saw figures appear on the screen. With the Taylor and Macholl files open, she cross-referenced every detail once again. She watched the video as Macholl arrived at the restaurant and saw nothing that concerned her.
Karen rewound the tape to the beginning and watched a host of diners, general members of the public, turn up at the restaurant. The two large, burly minders arrived and took up their position by the front door. Karen knew Taylor’s guests would arrive soon. She let the tape run whilst she pulled the list of attendees from the file. It wasn’t long before the first guests arrived. Karen ticked off one by one against the list of attendees. They came in dribs and drabs. It started with some of Taylor’s associates before friends and family arrived. Taylor arrived suitably late, arm in arm with Diane, and Ben trailing a few feet behind.
Karen noticed that Ben’s body language suggested he wasn’t happy. His hands were stuffed in his trouser pockets, and his head was slightly tipped forward.
She crossed their three names off the list before she paused and examined the last two names, Harry Coleman and Molly Brennan. Karen continued to run the tape, waiting for the last two guests to arrive, and then paused the recording when they turned up at the door. She zoomed in to focus on Molly’s image. The pictures pinned to a mirror in Molly’s bedroom matched the frozen image. She’d reviewed the names on the list earlier in the investigation, but she hadn’t made the connection until now. Molly Brennan and her boyfriend appeared on the CCTV footage, and Molly’s mum was in a relationship with Finch.
Karen’s mind somersaulted as it worked hard to make the connections. She flicked through the file and pulled out the witness statements. She found Molly’s and read through it. The account of the evening and the altercation mirrored all the other statements they had gathered. Karen searched out Harry Coleman’s statement. It too offered nothing new or revealing. But Karen considered whether Molly’s unknown whereabouts would lead her to Harry. It was the most plausible option if she needed a place to stay.
A further check on Molly Brennan revealed several occasions where social services and police had been called. Angie Brennan had been cautioned twice for being drunk and disorderly and cautioned once for being in possession of a class B substance. At the time, Angie had sworn it wasn’t hers. Knowing what she knew now, Karen didn’t doubt that, and suspected that Finch was using her as a mule the day the authorities had stopped and searched her.
Molly had experienced a fractured and unstable home life. No wonder she hadn’t been there when they’d raided the apartment.
Karen moved over to her screen and watched a different video feed. She wondered if Molly had been home the night Taylor had been murdered. Had she seen Finch heading out? Had she overheard him saying anything that would contradict his movements? Karen didn’t view Molly as a suspect and nothing in her background suggested any violent tendencies.
The Copthorne estate images filled her screen. Residents milled around, the lights from the odd car peppered the darkness and then disappeared from view. Still nothing. The familiar images of Finch’s gang appeared briefly near the playground, until they too wandered off. Karen paused the video and took a break. Her eyes ached, her back was stiff and her shoulders felt tight. She rustled up a coffee in the kitchen and made her way back to her office, via the main floor. McQueen and Brad were out making further inquiries, and Jade was ensconced in her workstation, but popped her head up when she saw Karen.
“Boss, I’ve seen a report from Essex Police. They’ve fished out a body from the River Chelmer near Little Baddow last night. He’s been ID’d as Joel Adams. The report states gunshot wound to the head. His wrists and ankles were bound. He’s got connections to our area, so their officers have contacted us for further information.”
“Sounds like an execution?”
Jade agreed as she confirmed that Essex Police would conduct the investigations surrounding the grisly discovery and the Met would offer them any assistance they needed.
Alarm bells rang as Jade pulled up an image of the man and read the description. “Two-tone” Charlie had said that Adams had a dragon tattoo on his neck, and was at least six foot tall with a skull tattooed on one finger. The report filed by Essex Police and the images taken of the body confirmed her suspicions. It was the same person. Someone was tying up loose ends.
For the time being she needed to get back to her video analysis, but made a mental note to contact the SIO in Essex later. The ballistics report would interest her.
Karen sipped her coffee as she started the tape again. It was a while before the footage captured Molly Brennan leaving for the evening. She watched as Molly appeared from the side of an apartment block and made her way across the central square. She made her way to the car park on the other side. The image was darker as she zoomed in; there were fewer lights. Karen cursed as the image pixelated further. She could make out the outline of Molly as she stepped into a car.
The car remained stationary for a few minutes before it moved off and appeared on a closer feed. Karen identified the shape of a Saab. She jotted down the index of the car before running a check on it. The registered keeper of a red Saab 93 was Harry Coleman.
Karen let the tape run as she contemplated the new information. During the night someone had used the gun in Finch’s possession. Had Molly lent the gun to anyone? Had she even seen it? Karen couldn’t be certain of either.
At no point had Karen seen evidence of a firearm when she observed Finch and his gang. The timestamp on the tape showed two thirteen a.m. when the same Saab returned. Molly exited the car and headed back to the apartment, but Karen noticed that the Saab didn’t pull away, nor did the driver leave the car. A strip of additional red brake lights appeared to be flashing in the rear view window. Karen assumed it was additional customisation.
“Who are you waiting for?” she mumb
led.
Karen checked the timestamp again and it was two twenty-eight a.m. when a figure appeared from the apartment block. Karen recognised Molly, but this time she was half walking/half running towards the car.
Karen’s eyes were glued to the screen, a mixture of concern and curiosity keeping her transfixed.
Had something happened in the apartment? Had the girl seen something that made her flee?
Karen noticed her carrying a Sainsbury’s bag. Molly made her way to the Saab, and returned a few minutes later without the bag.
Karen watched the tail lights of the Saab disappear into the darkness.
42
“What we are looking for, boss?” Jade asked as she walked with Karen to a smaller office containing a few PC terminals linked into the online archive database.
“We’re looking for anything around Macholl. His life, his crimes, and any intelligence gathered on him.”
Recently, the searching and analysing of past crimes had become automated as more records were transferred online. It was all part of the cost and efficiency drive, due in part to government cuts, and the loss of more than six hundred million pounds of their assets with a further three hundred million to go. With twenty thousand fewer officers, and more than one billion pounds of property sold off in the shape of police stations, storage facilities and accommodation blocks, the service was at breaking point.
It meant storage rooms had become redundant, and their contents shipped off to third-party storage facilities, or scanned and put on to online databases.
“I still can’t see the connection between Molly, Taylor and Macholl?” Jade commented.
Karen had to confess she didn’t know, either. She wondered if Molly had been convinced to pass a gun to them in order to commit the murders.
Had she done it under duress? Had she been intimidated, blackmailed or bribed? Or had she been a willing accessory to a double murder?
Only Molly could answer that, and the need to locate her became even more pressing.
Jade searched the database by using the keywords, “Dean Macholl.” Her search pulled up forty-three reference points relating to his name.
“He’s been a busy boy,” Karen muttered as she scanned the list. Each line listed his name with an opening sentence relating to each reference point. The entry relating to the Paddy Power botched raid grabbed her attention, and she instructed Jade to open that entry.
They spent the next hour reviewing all the witness statements hoping something would jump out at them. Despite the third robber being potentially identified as Finch, nothing in the records threw up anything concrete. At the time, investigating officers had interviewed Finch as a suspect, but released him due to insufficient evidence. She wondered if Finch had plotted his revenge, but orchestrated the recent raid on the convenience store to give him a cast-iron alibi whilst another associate committed the murders?
“Boss, if Finch didn’t get his share at the time, then maybe he waited for Macholl to return, confronted each of them, and when neither coughed up, he shot them?”
“That’s possible, Jade. If that’s the case, then we are looking for another suspect not on our radar.”
When no new information was forthcoming, Karen resigned herself to accepting she wasn’t going to get her answers searching through the archives.
Karen sensed that lazy afternoon feeling amongst the team as they gathered after lunch. Her immediate team of Jade, McQueen and Brad sat to one side of her as the majority of the MIT fanned out around her perching on desks, or squatting on the nearest chairs. More than two dozen police officers and support staff waited as she finished making notes on the incident board.
“Listen, I know we are all tired. We’ve been working on this case for over a week now, and just as we think we’re getting closer, something gets in the way and screws it up.”
There were nods from those who had gathered.
“Boss, I think what’s pissing us off is a lack of motive. We’ve got all these random players, and we’ve followed up leads and found nothing but dead ends.”
Karen understood the frustration and sympathised with them. She reassured them she felt just the same, but if cases were that easy they would have one hundred per cent clear-up rate.
“The motive has always been an issue for us. And perhaps that’s why we have made little progress.”
A few officers looked back at her with narrowed eyes and looks of confusion.
To clarify, Karen elaborated. “We’ve been focusing on recent events and focusing on connections. There is a historical element to this. And we were looking at suspects involved in criminality. I went back over the tapes the night that Taylor was murdered. I reviewed footage of the restaurant, and of the Copthorne estate. I compared the two.”
Karen turned and pinned up still images she had printed off from the video footage. They were pictures of Molly exiting the red Saab after the dinner party and then returning to it minutes later.
“Molly Brennan?” An officer piped up from the back.
Karen nodded, and went on to explain the time between Molly arriving back at the apartment empty-handed, and then returning fifteen minutes later with a Sainsbury’s carrier bag which she passed on to the driver of the Saab.
“My initial theory was that Finch used the handgun to shoot Taylor. But he has an alibi. He was doing over the convenience store. So as it stands, he’s out of the equation.”
“Do you have a new theory then?” someone asked.
Karen tapped the image of Molly Brennan. “I’m assuming that Molly knew about Finch’s handgun and sneaked it out to her boyfriend, Harry Coleman.”
“So do you think Harry Coleman shot Taylor?”
“I don’t think Molly did. I think she passed the handgun to Harry. Whether or not he shot Taylor is a different matter. He may have passed it on to someone else who committed the act.”
Brad crossed his arms and looked perplexed. His beady, piercing eyes fixed wide, staring at Karen. “I don’t get it, boss. What’s the motive? I can’t see how she’s connected to Taylor or Macholl. She’s only seventeen, and when Macholl did a runner, she would have been eleven.”
Brad had a point, but it was the only solid and tangible lead she had to go on. “As I said earlier, Brad, there has to be a historical element to this. It’s just out of our grasp at the moment, but we need to bring Molly in.”
“Where is she?” Brad continued. “We know she lived with her mum, but she’s not been seen. And frankly I don’t blame her. The apartment was a shithole.”
Karen nodded and turned to address the whole team. “We know Molly is vulnerable. The estate will be the last place she seeks refuge. I believe she is with Harry Coleman. She’s young and impressionable. And the chances are, she feels safe around him.”
“Neither Molly nor Harry have form, boss. Not even a caution. They’re both clean,” McQueen offered.
“There’s always a first time. Find Harry, we find Molly?” Brad surmised.
Karen nodded, and she knew where to start.
43
Eric Street in Mile End was a narrow street with small, terraced housing to one side where front doors tipped out on to the narrow pavements. On the opposite side were low-level apartment blocks, a combination of privately owned and council-run properties.
Jade drove up and down the street a few times until they found the address in question, a grey and white block three stories high. Purple wheelie bins lined the pathways leading up to the apartments. They stood out as bright colourful beacons in the dreariness that surrounded them.
Karen glanced up and noticed that many of the apartments were occupied at this time of the evening. People had returned home, and were no doubt making dinner, or getting on with family life. Number fifty-four, however, sat in darkness as Karen peered through the ground-floor window. There appeared to be no signs of life, which Jade confirmed as she crouched and peered through the letter box, listening for sounds.
Jade ham
mered on the door a few times before stepping back and joining Karen on the pavement. Karen checked up and down the street and couldn’t see a red Saab 93.
“They could be out cruising the streets or hanging out with friends,” Jade offered.
“Or, they knew we would knock on their door soon.”
Karen was determined to return a few hours later, but in the meantime she instructed the team to continue trawling through CCTV footage surrounding Taylor’s property and Macholl’s apartment.
The team jumped in, looking through hours of footage, and to keep going they ordered in a large Chinese delivery. Before long, the incident room filled with the blended spices and aromas of chow mein, fried rice, chicken and black bean sauce, and various other delights. Officers ate at their workstations, flicking through different video clips between each mouthful. Extended hours were a hazard of the job. Officer’s loved ones became accustomed to receiving last-minute calls about being home late and not waiting up. It messed with home lives, plans were often put on hold, kids would miss their mummy or daddy reading them a bedtime story, and personal relationships became strained to breaking point.
The team took it in turns to review footage, so nothing was missed. It wasn’t glamorous. It was time-consuming. Eyes hurt, shoulders ached, and minds played tricks as the hours ticked by.
Karen knew that not a single officer envied or enjoyed this arduous task, but it was a necessity. Karen and Jade shared a terminal together as they looked at some footage close to where Taylor lived. Brad and McQueen did the same but with Macholl’s apartment.
“I hope you didn’t have any plans tonight?” Karen asked Jade.
Jade shook her head. “I wish I did. But I’m useless at planning. I always end up cancelling meals and dates.”