by Peter Kozmar
Andy remained quiet and deep in thought for most of the journey, while Vladim talked animatedly to Dortman about their hike. Andy’s mind drifted back to the Track. They had started in clear blue skies with a tremendous feeling of anticipation and excitement. They had finished, with dark angry skies and a feeling of uncertainty and now fear, fear for Mark.
CHAPTER 3
The flight to Wellington was less than an hour. When Vladim’s jet came to a halt on the stand, two cop cars were already waiting to meet the jet and take them on their twenty-minute drive to the Rydges Hotel in downtown Wellington.
Andy had climbed out of the cop car grabbing his rucksack and case from the trunk before he noticed the rain had stopped falling. The concierge, dressed in his well-tailored burgundy uniform and peak cap, greeted them. He had a baggage cart to take the weighty items from Andy, Vladim and Dortman.
After they’d checked in, Andy turned to Carter saying, “I’m going up to my room to change, when I come down I’d like to visit the crime scene and go through the photos the police took when they made entry.”
“I’ll make some calls, I’ll be waiting here when you return,” she replied turning away already searching her contact list on her phone.
Andy turned to Vladim. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I need to shower and freshen up too. How about dinner this evening? I think we both need a decent meal after four days of dehydrated hiking food, even if it was marked ‘gourmet’.”
“That’s a great idea. Let’s eat at eight.”
“I’ll have Tomas reserve a table at a good restaurant,” Vladim turned to Dortman who gave a barely discernible nod to indicate he understood.
The two friends together with Dortman headed for the elevators, while the concierge followed close behind, pushing the heavy baggage cart. They alighted on the third floor, Andy’s room was the first and they parted as he used his electronic key to access his room. The concierge followed Andy and unloaded his case and rucksack onto the rooms luggage rack. The concierge smiled when Andy palmed him a five-dollar bill as he headed back into the corridor after Vladim and Dortman.
Andy unzipped his suitcase in search of clean clothes which weren’t lightweight and designed to be quick drying for hiking. He removed a pair of black sneakers, grabbed a pair of clean socks and underwear. He selected denim trousers, a dark blue cotton shirt and a casual jacket, placing them on the bed. The remainder of his case he’d unpack when he got back.
He moved into the bathroom and quickly removed his outer clothes, throwing them in a pile on the marble floor. He shaved, removing several days of salt and pepper beard growth, before jumping into the shower. The powerful jets of hot water struck him like fine needles. He rubbed the hot water into his matted hair releasing the dirt that had worked its way in during the hike, the shower tray filled with brown muddy water as it made its way to the plughole.
He grabbed a bar of soap and used it to remove the strong smell of exertion and toil which had stuck to him. Finally, he reached for a complimentary bottle of shampoo and squeezed a small amount into the palm of his hand. He rubbed the fragrant liquid into his hair and massaged it into his scalp for a few moments. Then he stood under the water jets and washed all of the foam from his hair and body, then turned the water off and stepped out of the cubicle. He grabbed a large soft white bath towel, dried himself, then wrapped it round his waist and walked into the bedroom.
He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and smiled. Over the last few months he’d started to repair his body from the damage the last several years of abuse had inflicted. The hike with Vladim had been a good test of his recovery and helped him burn off more calories. Andy dressed, put his wallet in his pocket, grabbed his cell phone and room key before heading out of his room to the elevators.
On the ground floor, Carter was waiting in a lobby chair and he made a beeline for her. She stood and smiled, “Are you feeling better?”
“I feel like a new man. What’s the plan?” he replied.
“We’ll walk over to the Central Police Station to meet with Inspector Copeland. He’ll show you the crime scene photos and run through what his investigators found.”
“I thought the UN didn’t want the New Zealand Police investigating the murders?”
“That’s not how we see it, the New Zealand Police don’t have permission to go into the crime scene, but investigating a multiple-homicide on New Zealand soil? Let’s just say that’s a different matter … until someone tells us otherwise,” Carter informed him.
“Will we get to see the crime scene today?” Andy asked.
“Yes, after a lot of toing and froing I’ve managed to negotiate access with the UN team,” she replied wearily. “After we’ve seen Inspector Copeland, we’ll be meeting Marcel Durand from the UN.”
“Great, let’s go.” They headed through the exit and walked along the busy street, packed with office workers heading home after a day managing their desks. At the end of Featherston Street, they crossed onto Lambton Quay, known to Wellingtonians as the ‘Golden Mile’. Carter stopped and pointed across the road to a narrow alleyway, where there was a statue of a man wearing a top hat with a dog at his heel.
“That’s Plimmer Steps, leading to Plimmer Towers, we’ll be back here in a short while to visit the crime scene,” Carter informed him.
Less than two minutes later they were at the Police Station on Victoria Street and heading up the stairs into reception where Carter asked for Inspector Copeland. They had barely sat down when a tall, portly, uniformed officer sporting a neatly trimmed beard, approached them carrying a thick brown file. “You must be Andrew Flint, the Commissioner said I needed to work closely with you. I’m Keith Copeland,” he said offering his hand to Andy.
Andy took Copeland’s hand and felt his bones crush together in the firm vice-like grip he received.
“Please, call me Andy,” he said, trying hard not show any reaction. Happy that he’s made his first impression count Copeland released Andy’s hand and turned to Carter. He wrapped his large arms around her and gave her a hug followed by a kiss her on the left cheek.
“Come with me,” he said, and led them to a security door using his card to gain access. The Inspector guided them into a windowless meeting room with a grey table and four plastic chairs. On the table sat a bulky recording device, microphone and wide-angle camera. Along one wall a trolley held a large flat screen television and DVD player.
Andy took a seat on one side of the table, Carter chose to sit next to him leaving Copeland to choose one of the two remaining seats on the opposite side of the table. He placed the large brown paper file on the table. “How do you two know each other?” Andy asked as he pointed between the two of them with his index finger.
Carter replied, “I grew up next door to Keith. His sister and I were in the same class at school. Keith and I dated for a while when we were kids. Just after my thirteenth birthday his mum moved and that was the end of our romance.” Copeland had turned a slight shade of red and fidgeted in his chair. Carter continued, “I joined the police and, after a few years, I worked homicide across Wellington and the Wairarapa.”
Now it was Copeland’s turn, “Wellington is a small town and I bumped into Amy after I’d joined the police. Two years later, I transferred to homicide and Amy was my boss for a few years She’s a good cop!” Now it was Carter to redden. Copeland continued, “She left us for the world of spooks and shadows.”
“Keith only ever wanted to be a cop,” Carter said rolling her eyes.
“What can you tell me about the UN office and the murder of its staff?” Andy asked Copeland.
“It’s been a diplomatic location for many years, but we had no idea of what went on there. When the call came in, we responded, but couldn’t gain entry for nearly four hours.”
“The team had to wait outside until the police received permission from the Governor General,” Carter chipped in before Copeland continued.
“
When the team received permission and entered the premises, they wore body cameras and took photos of the scene as they worked the floor … we took a lot of photo’s. Marcel Durand and his team arrived early the following day, they demanded we hand over all the data we’d collected, including the photos and videos. We told him it was none of his business. We hadn’t removed anything. He was quick to request we removed the bodies for the Coroner to commence their work.”
“Where are the bodies now?” Andy asked.
“They’re at the morgue in Wellington Hospital. The autopsies have been completed and I have the reports here,” Copeland said, gently patting the file with his right hand. “If you want to see the bodies,” he looked at his watched and sighed, “I can arrange it for tomorrow.”
“The reports will be good enough for now,” Andy said, he was in no hurry to see dead bodies.
“Okay, let’s start with the floor plan of the office in Plimmer Towers. I’ll point out where the bodies were found, run through the photos for each and then show you the videos. Finally, I’ll take you through the autopsy reports.”
“You’re an experienced cop, before you go into the detail, what do you think happened and why?”
Copeland seemed to appreciate the olive branch Andy offered. He paused for a moment before saying, “In my personal opinion, this was a professional hit. The murderer moved quickly through the office, killing as they went. I believed they used a silenced weapon because most victims were killed on the spot, apart from Ivan Rubtsov, he was the only one who tried to escape. If the gunman didn’t have a silencer on the gun, the staff would have heard the shots and some of them would have escaped. Also, the sounds of the gunshots would have been heard on adjacent floors and we would have been called in sooner.”
“Why a professional hit?” Andy asked
“Aside from the tragic mosque shooting in Christchurch back in March 2019, most shootings in New Zealand are from either hunting rifles or shotguns. This wasn’t a hunting accident or a gang dispute. The murder of office workers with a silenced weapon, come on! Add to that the gunman took a route into and out of the building with the least number of security cameras. We think the killer was a white guy of average build wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. We quickly lost him on CCTV after he left the building. The shooter is a pro, but that’s my personal opinion.”
“Thanks. Let’s get on with this.”
Copeland lay the plans on the table. “The UN facility occupies the entire twenty-second floor. To access this floor via the elevators or to open the door from the stairwell, you need an electronic security card. We have the time stamps and logs for that day’s security cards for the building.
“Cut to the chase. Who’s access card was used to access the elevator and the UN office?”
Copeland shrugged, “It’s a card with no details against it. It had been created two days earlier by the owners of the building and never issued. They claim they didn’t create it and don’t have it.”
Andy rubbed his stubble covered chin, “A dead end?”
“Yes. We used our master access card which allowed the responding officers to use the lifts to the twenty-second floor. That’s when they received orders to wait outside the main door. When the team received permission to enter the facility, they found Greg Darcey in the kitchenette, here.”
Copeland pointed to the main entrance for the office and traced the short distance to the kitchenette. He rummaged amongst the papers in the file and produced three A4 color photos of Darcey. The first, a close up of his head which showed the back of it missing. The second photo showed Darcey’s entire body, revealing the chest shot. The third photo, taken further away, showing the position of Darcey’s body in the kitchenette. Andy noticed a mug sat on the kitchen workbench full of dark liquid, the tip of a teabag could be seen breaking the surface. Next to the mug sat a plastic milk container; its light blue top still in place.
“We believe he was the first to be shot,” Carter added.
Copeland spent the next ten minutes going through the floor plans and showed Andy photos of each victim pointing out where they had fallen on the plan. He stood and moved to the trolley where he connected a USB hard drive to the television and selected the content via the television remote control. “I’ve pulled together this video from three body cameras including footage we filmed for evidence.”
“Great, that’s efficient,” Andy wanted to see the video to get a better feel for the location.
“I’ll warn you now, it’s graphic, some of the scenes are pretty gruesome. Also for this meeting, I’m only giving you the highlights. Think of it as a walk through and look around. I’ve several hours of footage if you want to view it all.”
“Maybe later,” Andy said as he looked in anticipation at the blank screen.
Copeland hit play. The video started as the officers entered the main entrance of the office. Darcey’s body came into view, he lay awkwardly with half his head missing. One by one the team came across the bodies of the other victims where they had fallen, cut down with no chance to escape, lying in pools of blood that stained the floor. Finally, moving through another security door into the server room, they turned a corner and came across Rubtsov. It was clear that, unlike the others, he’d been alerted to the mayhem and tried to escape nearly making it to the second exit by the elevator lobby. He’d been shot in the back before he could reach safety and raise the alarm. The bullet in the back of his head was the coup de grace. Andy understood why Copeland had come to the conclusion it had been a professional hit … whatever they were after, the killer hadn’t intended to leave any witnesses.
Once all the bodies had been located, the camera feed moved back into the office area and the individual workstations. On each of the desks the screens had timed out, displaying the UN logo and preventing the camera from capturing any information that might give an indication of what had led to the carnage.
The camera scanned each desk top recording writing pads, pens and colored sticky notes, now lying redundant, before moving on to close-up footage of each victim. Finally, the video showed the vast server room containing row upon row of floor to ceiling racks all filled with servers, switches and storage arrays. The normality of the equipment’s flashing lights belying the macabre scene in the main office on the other side of the wall were it not for the dead body of Rubtsov.
The sound picked up the room’s quiet hum from the servers cooling fans and the air-conditioning. The camera panned round to four cabinets where the doors were open. Here the equipment lights were flashing amber and red. I wonder what was held on those machines? Clearly it’s what got most of these people killed, he thought as he continued to watch the recording. The camera zoomed in on the racks to show spaces where equipment would have been, clearly removed from the cabinets, leaving cables protruding from the voids.
When the video ended, Copeland used the remote to switch off the television. He turned back to look at Andy, “That server room occupies about three-quarters of the entire floor space. Whatever they do in there need a shed load of computer power.”
“Thank you, your briefing has been very helpful,” Andy said as he stood to leave.
“What else do you need before you head to the crime scene?” Copeland asked.
“My son, Mark, he worked there and is missing. Do you think he had anything to do with this?” Andy was aware how it looked on camera, Mark was the only survivor … why?
Copeland looked at Carter for reassurance before answering, “My personal opinion, is he had nothing to do with it. Yes, he had been working there that day and he is missing. But I don’t believe he’s some psycho gunman who had a bad day and decided to take out his entire office. The video shows the killer knew what he was looking for, hence the missing equipment, and made sure there were no witnesses to the theft. Mark had twenty-four by seven access to that floor and could have taken the equipment any time he wanted. If he intended to kill everyone in the office, he would have shown signs of is
olation, being an outsider, not one of the group. He’d probably be on anti-depressants or drugs. Mark had none of the above, I understand, quite the opposite.”
“Anything else you can think of that will help me work this out?” Andy asked, he was sure he was getting an honest opinion from Copeland so he knew he would get a straight reply.
“Just this,” Copeland said as he selected an audio file on his cell phone and pressed play. It was the recording of the 111 call.
“Emergency Services, which service do you require?” the woman’s voice asked calmly.
“They’re dead. They’re all dead.” Andy went cold as he heard his son’s despairing voice come on the line.
“Who’s dead, sir? Caller, please stay on the line.”
“The operator is now putting the call through to the control room, just upstairs. She’s typed a handover message saying, ‘fatalities’ and flagged it as ‘urgent’,” Copeland talked over the recording.
“Caller, can I have your name?” there was a pause.
“Mark Flint,” Mark’s voice flat, monotone.
“Mark, please stay on the line, I’m transferring your call to the police.”
Copeland continued, “The call has now been picked up by a civilian operator, because of the message and the urgent status, a Sergeant is listening in. They have the location from where the call originated and can see it’s a diplomatic premise.”
“Hi Mark, I’m Natasha, is it okay if I call you Mark?”
“Yes.”
“What’s happened?”
“They’re all dead, someone’s shot them.”
“Mark, are you injured?”
“No.”
“The Sergeant has activated the Armed Defender Unit and tasked them to go to the scene. With the location being just around the corner, the initial response would be quicker on foot.”