‘PC Druce is on route to the hospital in the ambulance with Jane Simpson, Sarge,’ he said. ‘Her injuries are minor. What we have been able to establish so far is that she says she disturbed an intruder who attacked her and she was in fear for her life. It appears she pulled a weapon out of the knife block, on the kitchen work surface and stabbed him more than once. There are two stab wounds to his back but we haven’t moved him, so I can’t tell you if he has any other injuries. He was pronounced dead at the scene by the paramedics who came to attend to Ms Simpson. I’ve got uniform commencing a log of attendees and taping off the immediate area.’
‘Anyone asked for the D.I. to be called out yet?’ asked Vicky.
‘No, that’s your shout Sarge.’
Vicky’s lip curled up at the corner.
DC Wormald was busy giving their names and collar numbers to Police Constable Tracy Petterson who was now collating attendees at the scene. A necessary documentation to record persons present at various times at a crime scene.
Blue lights announced the arrival of the on-duty uniform Inspector, Justin Gaskin. He screeched his car to a halt and unfolded his large frame from the vehicle before swaggering over to the pair. ‘Sounds like one evil burgling bastard met his match to me,’ he said in his bombastic manner. ‘Been inside yet? Let’s have a little looksy shall we?’
‘No, you won’t have a looksy. You know the score. Andy and I will be the only people entering the crime scene – this is CID’s responsibility and I’m in charge,’ said Vicky who stood her ground in front of him.
His bulging green eyes leered at her from under bushy, red eyebrows. She quivered inside. ‘Come on, we need to know what we are dealing with, nobody needs to know, kid.’ His giant frame over-shadowed her.
‘Yes they will, because it will be on record and another thing, I don’t think Dylan will take kindly to someone contaminating a crime scene just to be nosey, do you?’
Justin Gaskin was a egoist. Standing six feet and seven inches tall to Vicky’s five foot ten he looked down on her and she looked up at him with a steely glare.
‘Okay, if that’s how you want to play it act...ing Sergeant Hardacre,’ he said with a snarl.
‘With due respect, sir, it’s a murder scene. It’s my call as the senior detective and we don’t play at it.’
‘She needs a strong man like me to control her,’ he said to DC Wormald out of the corner of his mouth. Andy looked at him with the contempt his words deserved.
Vicky was right. Gaskin knew it, and although he outranked her, she was the on-duty senior detective in charge. Vicky had the expertise and responsibility for the crime. Without awaiting a response from him she asked control to call out DI Dylan to meet her at the scene and arranged for the crime scene investigator to attend, along with their scene supervisor.
Inspector Gaskin stared at her through his designer glasses, and although his face was the colour of his hair he remained outside the taped area.
Vicky stood with Andy. ‘It is rumoured Avril Summerfield-Preston was one of his conquests,’ she said out of the corner of her mouth.
‘Not so bright then is he?’ asked Andy.
‘Rumour has it Dick Rogers copped them in a compromising position once.’
‘I’ve heard that rumour too. You’d better watch your back with Gaskin though, he’s as vindictive as his hair is red,’ he said looking troubled.
‘Thanks for the heads up. Come on, we, as the detectives need to get suited and booted and without disturbing anything get a visual overview of the body in situ before Dylan arrives so we can brief first hand.’
Chapter Ten
Maisy had got into a habit of waking in the early hours, much to Jen’s despair. It was one o’clock in the morning and she was trying to soothe her daughter back to sleep. Dylan could hear Jen moving around the nursery, and the broken hum of conversation as she walked to and fro past the nursery door.
Jen crept back next to him in bed twenty minutes later.
‘She off?’
‘Just.’ Jen yawned.
The phone rang. Jen pushed her head further into her pillow and eyes wide she lay motionless looking up at the ceiling. The call was short in duration.
‘I’ll be with you in thirty minutes,’ Dylan said. Jumping out of bed he headed for the bathroom. Jen sat up. ‘You stay wrapped up, I’ll manage,’ he said.
‘No, I’m wide awake. I’ll go down and make us both a warm drink,’ she smiled wanly. As she passed the wardrobe she put her arm inside, reached for a clean suit, shirt, tie and as if in automatic pilot hung them on the back of the bedroom door. With well-practiced swiftness she opened drawers and grabbed Dylan’s underwear and a handkerchief and threw them on the bed.
In the kitchen she could hear Dylan moving around overhead. Her waking mood was not a happy one. Five minutes later she appeared in the bedroom with a cup of tea for herself, a coffee and a slice of toast on a tray for Dylan. ‘Eat it, you don’t know when you might get anything else,’ she said, climbing back into bed and pulling the duvet up to her chin. ‘I’ve put some bananas, cereal bars and a bottle of water on top of your briefcase.’
He bent down and kissed her, a slice of toast in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Albeit for putting on his jacket he was ready to leave. He smelt of soap and toothpaste and his face was damp to the touch. ‘Looks like a woman’s disturbed an intruder, he attacked her and now he’s dead. It could be a runner. Vicky’s on-duty supervision.’
Jen’s mouth was a straight line. ‘But, if she was attacked surely it’ll be self defence?’
‘That might be the outcome at the end of the day, but she’ll have to go through the system like any other killer.’
‘Yeah, well the system stinks.’
‘It’s overloaded too. ‘Now try get back to sleep. You’ve got to work tomorrow or rather today,’ he said looking at the clock.
***
As Dylan pulled out of the driveway he saw the bedroom curtain flicker. He waved in case Jen was watching. Looking in his rear-view mirror as he drove away he saw the bedroom light go out.
It was a fine, clear night and he wound down the window to clear the mist that formed quickly on the inside of his windscreen. The cool air helped clear his head. The night was dark but not so much so that he couldn’t distinguish landmarks on the roads he knew well. He passed over the Heddle River, drove alongside an avenue of trees and parked next to the compact blackness of the long laurel hedge that separated Jane Simpson’s property from the next.
He was conscious that this was Vicky’s first dead body as a supervisor and he hoped that she recalled all that she had been taught. As the Senior Investigating Officer he would cut her no slack. This was no exercise. Her actions and decisions could be the difference between the killer not only being caught, but also convicted. He knew how she would be feeling. He felt slightly nervous for her, as a parent does for a child. The aptitude she showed tonight was as much a measure of his own ability and judge of character, as it was of her as a leader.
***
Fourteen Danone Way was a detached property set back from the roadway. The nearest neighbours at either side were about thirty to forty yards away he noticed on arrival.
Dylan stopped at the cordon of crime scene tape. He got out of his vehicle carrying his own coverall sealed in a plastic bag. He walked over to give his details to PC Fearne Robinson who had taken over from PC Petterson as the Loggist. He was immediately approached by acting Detective Sergeant Vicky Hardacre and Detective Constable Andy Wormald. So far so good he thought to himself as he scanned the controlled crime scene.
‘Good morning, Detective Sergeant, Andy,’ he said with a nod of his head.
‘Morning, boss,’ they said in unison.
‘Morning, Dylan,’ said Inspector Gaskin.
‘Sarah Jarvis, Crime Scene Supervisor, has just arrived,’ Vicky said looking towards the marked van. ‘And PC Gavin Druce is at the hospital with the householder who he has arr
ested on suspicion of murder. Jane Simpson states that she stabbed a male intruder who attacked her in the kitchen. PC Druce and PC Hand were first at the scene and PC Petterson and PC Robinson arrived shortly afterwards. The paramedics have pronounced life extinct. DC Wormald, will you update the boss about the body in the hallway?’ asked Vicky.
‘Male, face down on the hallway floor. There are two visible stab wounds to his back. At his side, on the floor is a knife that appears to be bloodstained. He’s wearing a full head mask, which is still in situ. The mask is that of an old man with a large crooked nose. You’ll have seen the sort in shops around Halloween. It’s got wispy grey hair and a bald head... you know the sort. That’s about all I can tell you at this moment in time, sir. Neither the initial police officers attending or ourselves have disturbed anything, although there has been a visual check made of all the rooms to make sure there was no one else present, before we ensured the scene was secured.’
‘Thanks, Andy, glad you didn’t attempt to remove the mask. Is he wearing gloves?’
‘No sir, he isn’t.’
‘Is he black, white?’
‘White, boss.’
‘Our householder?’
‘Is Jane Simpson,’ said Vicky.
‘What was she wearing?’
‘A light coloured, cotton dressing gown that was heavily bloodstained, I am told by PC Hand. PC Druce has got the retrieval of these as exhibits underway. Apparently she was in shock when they took her to the hospital in an ambulance but has only minor injuries.’
‘Do we know roughly how old she is?’
‘Late thirties boss, according to Control.’
‘Thanks, Andy, who have we got for exhibits, Vicky?’
‘I’ve called DC Granger out, boss.’
‘Will you be needing anything further from me, Jack?’ asked Inspector Gaskin. ‘I’ve some reviews to do on two in custody for something else that happened this evening.’
‘No thank you, not at the moment, thanks,’ said Dylan.
The team watched Inspector Gaskin get in his car and drive away. He raised his hand to Dylan. Andy went to speak to the CSI team.
‘Boy, am I glad he’s gone,’ said Vicky to Dylan.
Dylan looked at her questioningly.
‘He wanted to go into the scene before you arrived, but I told him it wasn’t happening. Don’t think he was happy with me. Bloody Wooden Top.’
‘Ignore him. Let’s face it, if you had let him in the cordon, I’d still be shouting at you both now. That’s after I’d had you up for neglect of duty. You did the right thing. Well done, I’m proud of you. It’s not easy to say no to people of a higher rank.’
‘Andy told me to watch my back with Gaskin.’
‘If you want my advice, don’t trust anyone but yourself. Believe me, I say that from experience,’ he said with a cynical expression upon his face. ‘Okay,’ he said walking towards the wider audience. ‘Once everyone’s arrived, we’ll get suited and booted into protective clothing. And then you and I, Vicky, will go in with Sarah and PC Hand, seeing as he’s already been inside, and we will have a close look at what we’ve got. So to your first job as a deputy Senior Investigating Officer, Sergeant Hardacre.’
‘Acting Sergeant.’
‘Not for long if I have my way, Vicky. Not for long.’
Vicky Hardacre had worked on DI Jack Dylan’s team for some time and she knew how thorough he was. She was thankful that he had been on-call.
Preparing to go into a crime scene was no easy task. Suited and booted meant all over body protective clothing which included gloves, overshoes and masks before they were as much as allowed to approach the door. Dylan let Crime Scene Investigator Stuart Viney under CSI supervision Sarah Jarvis set up a three hundred and sixty degree angle camera, and put down stepping plates inside the house, thereby making sure evidence on the ground was not lost by the officers trampling over it. There was one chance to protect and secure a crime scene. Which he knew only too well.
The group started to walk in single file on the path created by the metal foot plates. The stepping stones laid the way through the kitchen and into the hallway. Vicky led the way. Dylan stopped her with his hand on her shoulder before they entered the house. The mask muffled his voice. ‘I want you to interpret the crime scene,’ he said.
Her eyes flashed from him to the doorway.
‘Don’t look so worried. I’ll add anything that I feel you’ve missed. It will allow you the opportunity to consider what the scene tells you, rather than me taking control that’s all.’
‘Okay,’ she said as she stepped over the threshold and into the kitchen. ‘Knife block is upturned on the worktop, but the knives remain in situ. The kitchen window is slightly open. Point of entry maybe? However, the plant that is on the window sill and bottle of hand wash is undisturbed – odd.’
‘Good. You’d think anyone attempting to come in that way would have knocked something over, wouldn’t you?’ asked Dylan.
‘There is nothing in here that suggests a struggle has taken place to me. The stools are upright under the breakfast bar. No obvious sign of blood splashing,’ she said looking around the room and then her eyes went to the ceiling.
‘Agreed. The state of the room hardly confirms a violent attack.’
They moved to the hallway where the body lay.
The necessary photographs were now being taken.
‘Remove the mask,’ Dylan said to Sarah Jarvis. Sarah carefully pulled back the mask and placed it in a clear plastic evidence bag provided by CSI Stuart Viney.
‘Just seeing someone wearing that thing is enough to give you a bloody heart attack,’ said Dylan. He dropped to his haunches by the deceased’s side.
The deceased’s eyes were open. He was a clean shaven male with dark curly hair.
‘Can I smell aftershave, boss?’
‘Brut,’ said Dylan, Ned and Stuart.
‘I thought, I could smell aftershave,’ said Vicky. ‘But it’s not one I recognise.’
‘We’re showing our age fellas,’ Dylan said.
Vicky stood quietly looking around.
Dylan scanned the clothing the deceased wore. Light coloured checked shirt, denim jeans and trainers. ‘What’s missing, Vicky?’ he asked. She saw the back of his neck wrinkle as he looked up the stairs.
‘A coat?’
‘A coat. Yes,’ he said standing to face her.
‘Let’s turn him over and have some photographs of him in situ before we remove him to the mortuary.’
Stuart Viney knelt down and turned the body onto his back with Ned’s help. Beneath him was a large pool of thick arterial blood. He had another visible stab wound to his chest.
‘Straight through the heart,’ said Vicky.
‘Possibly. So, she stabbed him at least three times. He’s about the same age as her I would hazard a guess. Did she know him?’ asked Dylan.
‘I wonder,’ said Vicky. ‘Well, even if she did she’s hardly likely to recognise him in that bloody mask is she? I’ve got a gut feeling something is not quite right about this. But I’m not sure what… Everything seems too neat and simplistic,’ Vicky said.
‘I have the same feeling,’ said Dylan.
‘An intruder wearing a mask like that... God, once you started lashing out with a knife, you wouldn’t stop would you? I’d have imagined it would have been more a frenzied attack,’ said Vicky.
‘Okay, let’s arrange for him to go to the mortuary. Ned, will you go with him for continuity and to ensure we seize his clothing. Hold on, just check his pockets for any identification.’
Ned stooped down. He fumbled around in his pockets.
‘Nope, zilch,’ he said.
‘Can we have a snap of his face so we can show it, in interview, to Ms Simpson to see if she recognises him,’ said Vicky.
Dylan nodded in her direction. He was pleased with her approach and contribution. He turned to Sarah. ‘Nothing apparent but I’d be interested to see if you locat
e any blood splashing on the walls, ceiling etcetera, which may indicate where the attack started if nothing else.’
‘No problem,’ she said.
‘Okay Vicky, let’s start upstairs and work downwards and see what else we can find.’
***
One bedroom was decorated for a child – although no child appeared to live there. Dylan saw untidy shelves full of bits and pieces arranged in a haphazard fashion. There were boxes both opened and sealed.
‘Maybe she hadn’t lived here long,’ said Vicky as though she was reading his thoughts.
He opened the double doors of the master bedroom, and stood measuring the interior’s contents with his professional eye. A king-sized bed all but filled the room. There was a mirror on the ceiling. The duvet cover was neatly spread across the furniture, not a crease visible.
‘She was dressed for bed, but she hadn’t got into bed,’ Vicky said.
There was an en-suite. Dylan pointed to the linen basket.
‘Looks pretty full,’ said Vicky.
‘I want the knife she used. Ensure it’s brought along to the mortuary in one of those sealed transparent tubes so that the pathologist can see it, will you?’ Dylan asked. Vicky nodded her head.
‘No sign of any men’s toiletries. One toothbrush. She lives alone? The press are going to be all over this one,’ said Vicky.
‘Better think what you’re going to tell them.’
‘Me boss?’
‘Yes you, acting Sergeant Hardacre.’
Chapter Eleven
Vicky and Dylan sat savouring a bacon roll.
‘Okay, so you’ve had time to think, what’s your next move?’ asked Dylan.
‘Well... I’d like to hear what Jane Simpson’s got to say but on the face of it, we have a masked intruder who’s been stabbed to death by a female householder trying to protect herself.’
‘She was in her bloodstained nightwear on the arrival of the police; we’ll get an exact time from the control room when she rang three nines. That doesn’t suggest she was expecting visitors to me and she hadn’t got into the bed because that hadn’t been disturbed,’ Dylan said thoughtfully. ‘Let me see your press release before you email it to HQ press office, will you?’
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