The Cuckoo is a Pretty Bird

by L M Krier

  Try as he might, he’d never yet found the key to getting Steve to fully relax in his presence.

  ‘Nothing to drink, sir, thank you.’

  Steve sat down on the edge of the spare chair, still looking nervous. Ted invited him to carry on.

  ‘Well, sir, in theory it’s possible to find anything – anything at all – on the internet if you know where to look and what search terms to use. When I went round to see Océane after work, I asked her for some ideas. I hope that was all right? I mean, I know she has full clearance ...’

  ‘It’s fine, Steve,’ Ted repeated. ‘Good initiative. Well done.’

  ‘Only, you saying that about signs of a tripod being used and mention of some sort of porn filming. It made me think. But this is why I wanted to try the theory out on my own computer first. Some of the search terms are … well, not anything I would ever use and not something I’d want anyone else to see on my computer, unless it was an official part of the enquiry.’

  Ted was starting to wonder if he’d ever come to the point. It was always tricky, where Steve was concerned. He was an excellent officer, but his obsession with always doing the right thing had often led to long dialogues like this one. All round the houses and back, before he made his point. It was always worth waiting for. Especially when he’d been working in tandem with his girlfriend, Océane.

  ‘I understand that. Please go on.’

  ‘I don’t know if you know … well, I don’t see why you would …’ then he rushed on, his words blurting out, falling over one another in his discomfort to say them. ‘Disabled porn is a thing. There’s lots of it out there. There are even some sites exclusively for that. Although it’s called something much worse than that.

  ‘And I found her, sir. I found Abi on there. It’s not nice, and it doesn’t look remotely consensual to me. She looks drunk, or perhaps drugged, for one thing. It’s, er, it’s like an orgy, too. Group sex. Several of them at the same time. Including some girls.

  ‘The faces are pixelated out, all except for Abi’s. I recognised her straight away from the security camera footage at the flats. There’s quite a lot of separate videos, clearly not all taken at the same time. More than one of the lads has sex with her, but the main one – so possibly this Data – appears in all of the clips and always gets first go with her. There’s no way to make out his face but it’s possible to see he’s, erm, brown-skinned. So possibly Asian or mixed race or something like that.

  ‘The free access videos are only short. Teasers, really. There are others, behind a paywall, with hints that they’re much more hard-core. I wasn’t going to get into that on my own computer.

  ‘I’ve got the links to the trailers on my personal phone, sir. I can send them to you from that, but again, I was worried about putting things like that on my work phone without getting authorisation first. It was just that the idea suddenly came to me ...’

  ‘Steve, it’s all right. You’ve done very good work here. This could be a huge breakthrough. Please send me the links now and I’ll have a look before my next interview with Abigail later this morning.’

  Ted’s phone pinged almost immediately as Steve shot the links across. He’d clearly prepared the email in advance. As Ted looked at his phone, Steve stood up to go.

  ‘They really aren’t nice, sir. And these are just the teasers. No wonder she turned on one of them with a knife.'

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘Is there a chance this latest body is connected to our case?’ Virgil asked. ‘We’re still missing three lads – Data, Kane Lomax and Sarwar Dabiri – and suddenly we get a young male body on our patch. Only, all I’m getting from my contacts is that whoever the Big Man on the scene pushing drugs turns out to be, he’s new to the area and people are already afraid of him.’

  Ted was updating the team on their latest body before he went downstairs for his next interview with Abigail. He would need to talk to Jim Baker, to bring him up to speed, and to have the usual discussion over additional officers, on his way.

  ‘We can’t get even a partial ID yet,’ Ted told him. ‘The body is male and probably IC1 but it’s hard to tell.

  ‘Maurice, I know you’ll be careful, but when you go and talk to Ronnie today, make sure she doesn’t hear about this latest body by some means. Even if it turns out to be unconnected, she might be worried enough to stop saying what little she is doing. Hopefully whoever’s looking after her is sensible enough not to let her have access to watching the news or phoning her mates.’

  ‘I’m not sure our Ronnie is the news channel watching sort, boss,’ Maurice replied. ‘According to the lass babysitting her yesterday, she spends her time watching daytime soaps and shopping channels. We’ve got her phone, though. I told her it was for her own safety, so no one could trace her through it, which is true enough, even if she wasn’t too happy.’

  He pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket, containing a phone in a pink, sparkly cover.

  ‘I got her to sign a receipt for it, and to agree we could look through it to find out if there is a tracker on it.’

  ‘Good. Steve, this one is for you, please. Can you give it priority attention and tell us anything we need to know. Will you be able to tell if there’s a tracker on it?’

  ‘I can do that easily enough.’ The only time Steve sounded confident and even forgot the ‘sir’ was when he got onto one of his specialist subjects. ‘Depending on how skilled the person who’s planted any tracker is, it may not be easily possible for me to trace who they are, though.’

  ‘Could Océane do it?’

  The fondness and pride in Steve’s voice wasn’t lost on any of them. ‘Oh yes. If she can’t, it’s not likely anyone could.’

  ‘Right, thank you. And speaking of Steve and Océane, they’ve got us quite a breakthrough between them. A new twist on this case, and not a very nice one.’

  Ted briefly highlighted what Steve had told him earlier and added, ‘I’ve looked at some of it. It’s not good, to say the least. Clearly someone is going to have to go through all of it, to see if it gives us any more clues as to the identity of the people in the films, apart from Abigail. For example, we now have an ethnicity indicator on the person we think might be Data. But we need more. And that will mean going in behind the paywall to something much worse than we’ve already looked at. Any volunteers?’

  ‘Boss, if Mike takes over with Beff, as she calls herself, I’ll do it. I can at least shut myself away in my office so no one else has to see it.’

  ‘Thanks, Jo, I’m happy with that,’ Mike told him. ‘I don’t envy you, by the sound of it.’

  ‘Mike, we need names from Bethany, if you can persuade her. Virgil, Rob’s going to be tied up at the new crime scene for most of the morning, I imagine, so can you please take over the questioning of Reece Williams? And the same goes for him. We need names. If they’ve been our guests for the night, at least they won’t have heard about the body, in case it is one of their own. We need to keep a tight lid on that info for as long as possible.

  ‘If anyone has a few spare minutes, please check out Mispers for any missing males. Probably late teens, but the body wasn’t in much of a state for us to see any details to speak of.

  ‘Jezza, I need to talk to the Big Boss first but I’ll see you later, when Abigail arrives. Today we need to drill down a bit more about the weapon. And I need to tell Mr Stewart-Smith we have his client’s prints on the knife which inflicted the fatal wound. Which he isn’t going to like.’

  ‘Are we remotely likely to get anywhere with this, boss?’ Jo asked him. ‘Surely we’ll never get as far as getting Abi considered fit to plead.’

  ‘We have to continue on the basis that we might. And with that in mind, Jezza, can you please chase up her school records, as a matter of urgency. We should have had those by now. Inform the school, in your most tactful manner, that we can always send over uniformed officers in a police car, armed with a warrant, if they really want to go down that route. Hopefully they�
�re just too busy and short of resources to sort it all, rather than being deliberately obstructive.’

  ‘Will do, boss. I’ve also come armed with some props for the interview.’ She opened a folder and pulled out laminated pictures of various kitchen items – knives, corkscrew, egg beater, spatula. ‘I got Tommy to help me. At least it kept him quiet for half an hour.’

  ‘Excellent. But I expect we’re going to have to fight Stewart-Smith every step of the way on this. At some point he’s going to want her cautioned, but how we go about that in a way she can understand is currently a mystery to me.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Ted, what are we dealing with here?’ Jim asked him, after Ted had finished outlining Steve’s discovery. ‘Apart from anything else, this is handing Stewart-Smith the perfect defence on a plate. Diminished responsibility, protecting herself against abusers. We don’t stand a cat in hell’s chance of any kind of a case against her. But we need to carry on with it for now, at least. Take it as far as you can today, then we need to talk to CPS again for further guidance.

  ‘Steve’s a bloody good lad, though. If only he’d learn to trust himself a bit and speak up more. He’s still with that Ocean lass then, is he?’ Jim had never got the hang of her name. ‘That’s a couple of times the two of them have made some progress in a case for you, working off their own initiative. The Dynamic Duo, eh? And before you ask, no, you can’t have her back on the team. You’re lucky to keep the officers you’ve got already, the way things are going.’

  ‘We might need to bring some specialists in on this one, though, Jim. Drugs, for a start. This looks like being some serious stuff on our patch and none of us has the necessary experience. Virgil’s done a bit in the past but if it’s a big new operation, he can’t run it on his own.

  ‘I’ve been reading up a lot about cuckooing. Given that Abigail is a wealthy soft target, I’m expecting to find they’ve been at her finances, too. I’m going to ask if we can take a look at her phone, to see what that can tell us. Or rather what it will tell an expert in such things. I think it’s likely we’ll also need someone more experienced with financial crimes than any of us.’

  ‘DC Ahmed, you mean?’ Jim asked him, referring to one of Ted’s former team members, Sal Ahmed, who had left them to go back to Fraud.

  ‘DS now, I hear. What are our chances of borrowing him back for a bit?’

  ‘Bugger all springs to mind. But I’ll at least consider it and make some enquiries. You clearly are going to need extra officers, whatever the powers that be might say.

  ‘So, are we going to make a start? They should be here by now. I gather Debs and I have to accompany you while you do your smoothing ruffled feathers bit. It’s a load of old bollocks, Ted. You know it and we know it. Just say your piece and let’s crack on with the real work.’

  The Bullers were waiting in reception with Abigail, her solicitor and Christy Madden. Councillor Buller had a face like thunder once more. Ted was starting to think anger was his default setting.

  Ted stood there, flanked by both his senior officers looming over him, and began speaking. Abigail, as usual, beamed at the sight of him. Her trusting nature was clearly her greatest vulnerability, which had been exploited to the full by the cuckooing gang.

  ‘Councillor Buller, allow me to apologise if I’ve allowed my words or actions to be misinterpreted. I can only assure you once more than I am trying to consider Abigail’s rights and welfare at all times whilst interviewing her.

  ‘Mr Stewart-Smith, if possible, could I have a quick word with you, before we start? Abigail, perhaps you and Mr Madden could go to the same room as yesterday. You’ll find Jezza there, waiting for you.’

  ‘This is all a bit cloak and dagger, Ted,’ the solicitor said, lapsing into informality as the two of them went to find an available empty room.

  ‘I thought I should update you on what we have so far. I know you’re probably going to advise your client to say nothing at all. The weapon which inflicted the fatal wound was a kitchen knife, not a corkscrew. And the only prints on it are Abigail’s.’

  ‘Are you proposing to charge my client with murder? If you are, it’s probably time to piss or get off the pot, Ted. If she’s now being treated as a suspect rather than a witness, you should proceed to a caution before any further questioning. You know PACE as well as anyone.

  ‘And you’re right. Even without all the inherent difficulties Abigail presents us both with, I would most definitely tell any client to say nothing at this stage. Without trying to teach you your job, I can think of a couple of plausible reasons to explain away the fingerprints, and that really is all you have, it would seem.’

  His smile was almost friendly as he went on, ‘This is a beggar of a case though, isn’t it? Poor young lady is clearly very vulnerable. And I’ll give you a little piece of advice, without charging you an exorbitant fee for it. Be careful with Councillor Buller. He hates the police at the best of times, and he clearly currently has his sights set on you in particular.’

  ‘I noticed,’ Ted told him dryly. ‘What’s his problem with the force?’

  ‘Don’t you know? He got pulled for drink-driving a few years ago. Didn’t take kindly to the twelve-month ban and the hefty fine. He should have been grateful he didn’t get a prison sentence. He seemed to think his position might give him some form of immunity. Clearly it didn’t. But you didn’t hear that from me, of course.’

  Jezza produced her laminated pictures and spread them out on the low table. Emma, the second interpreter, was back, sitting close to Abigail, who was looking at what Jezza was doing with nothing more than mild curiosity.

  ‘Abi, if it’s all right with you, I’d like to ask you about some of the things you might have in your kitchen.’

  Enthusiastic nods and smiles. She leaned forward, staring studiously at the pictures as Jezza pointed to different ones in turn. Abigail’s speech was often indistinct, but there was no mistaking from her gestures that she could recognise many of the things Jezza pointed to.

  ‘Knife.’ She made a gesture of holding a knife and fork, cutting with the knife, lifting an invisible fork to her mouth.

  ‘Thing for bottles.’ She made a twisting gesture with her hand. The photo Jezza was showing her was of a corkscrew with a bottle opener at the top. The sort used to take the cap off beer bottles.

  There were some she didn’t know by their correct name, although she seemed to know, or to guess, their purpose. An egg whisk. A spatula. But when Jezza checked again, she still got ‘knife’ and ‘bottle thing’ the correct way round.

  Jezza looked to Ted to continue. In discussing how they wanted the interview to proceed, they had agreed at what point he would take over. Stewart-Smith was being surprisingly quiet, not yet advising his client not to reply.

  ‘Abigail, the boy in your kitchen. Latte. He wasn’t asleep. He was dead.’

  Her puzzled look appeared genuine enough. She looked from Ted to Emma and queried, ‘Not sleep? Dead?’

  ‘That’s right. Do you know ...’

  ‘And this is the precise point where I must stop you, Chief Inspector. Abigail, please do not say any more. Chief Inspector, you must caution my client before proceeding any further. I’ve been tolerant and accommodating thus far, but you are about to step too far over a line.’

  Abigail was opening her mouth, trying to articulate words, but Ted spoke to her. ‘Abigail, your solicitor is right. I now need to caution you.’

  Then he looked from Emma to Christy and back as he asked, ‘Is that even going to be possible?’

  ‘It’s theoretically possible,’ Madden answered for both of them. ‘It might just take a little longer than usual.’

  ‘Would you just excuse me for a couple of minutes before we proceed, in that case?’ Ted asked, standing up and leaving the room.

  He went straight to find Jim Baker.

  ‘Charge her, Ted,’ the Big Boss said as soon as he went through the door. ‘Charge her with murder. I just spoke to CPS. I’ll a
gree to bail, as long as she stays with the parents. She’s not a flight risk. She’s not likely to start interfering with witnesses. There don’t seem to be any, for one thing. We’re never going to get a conviction on this one, if it even gets to court. It’s clear that the lass is the real victim here, in so many ways. But we have to be seen to try. In a sense, all the more so because of who her father is. Charge her.’

  It was the most protracted caution Ted had ever sat through. It took all the skills and ingenuity of both interpreters to ensure that Abigail understood exactly what was going on. Even so, none of them could be one hundred per cent sure. She was still smiling and signing undying love for Jezza. But at least Stewart-Smith had accepted that the letter of the law had been followed within the limitations of the situation.

  Only Steve was in the office when Ted and Jezza went back upstairs, working away on Ronnie’s phone. Abigail had been more than happy to hand hers over and Stewart-Smith had raised no objection when Ted had explained about the possibility of it having a tracking device, which might be putting his client in danger. And that it might also help to lead them to other people who had been using the flat.

  ‘How are you getting on, Steve?’ Ted asked him as he put Abigail’s phone down carefully on his desk. ‘This one’s Abigail’s, and needs the same sort of attention, please.’

  ‘There is a tracker on it, sir. I don’t have the means to trace who’s at the other end. That really does need to be Océane. Do you want me to take it up to Central Park straight away, or wait until after work?’

  Jezza laughed. ‘Nice try, Steve. A trip to see your girlfriend, in work time, on expenses.’

  Steve immediately went red and opened his mouth to reply. Ted cut across.

  ‘Wait until you’ve gone over Abigail’s then you can take both at the same time. I don’t know if it’s something you can unravel but I’m wondering if someone’s been using Abigail’s own phone to get at her finances, or something like that.’