Outside Looking In. Michael Wood
bloke comes along and kills them?’ Aaron said.
‘No. That’s not what happens. If this was a random killing, a drive-by shooting, then that would have happened, but this is more personal. Our killer comes along, drags Kevin Hardaker out of the car, beats him senseless then shoots him. Then he drags our mystery woman out from the front passenger seat and does the same to her. Thinking she’s dead, he leaves. What does this tell us?’
Matilda looked out at the sea of blank faces staring back at her. To be more accurate, with a reduced team, it was more like a river of blank faces.
‘It wasn’t a random killing,’ said Rory, licking melted chocolate from his fingers.
‘Go on,’ prompted Matilda.
‘Like you said, if this was a drive-by shooting they would have been shot dead where they sat. They weren’t. They were pulled from the car and subjected to a right beating. This was personal. Someone knew they were going to be there, or maybe followed them there, then attacked.’
‘Exactly my thinking, Rory.’
Rory was still only young and had the fresh-face of a skin-cream commercial actor. He also had a vacant expression that wasn’t always comforting while trying to have an in-depth conversation. However, he was an intelligent young man and would make an excellent detective. He just needed to do a bit of growing up.
‘So, in a personal attack such as this,’ Matilda continued, ‘who are our most likely suspects?’
‘The man’s wife or the woman’s husband,’ Scott spoke up.
‘Thank you, Scott. We need to talk to Kevin Hardaker’s wife and the second we find out who our mystery woman is we need to talk to her husband – if she has one.’
‘That reminds me,’ Aaron spoke up. ‘I had a call from forensics first thing. They’ve found a mobile phone at the crime scene. It could belong to the woman.’
A phone rang. Rory answered it, talking quietly.
‘Excellent. Give forensics a call and have them do their usual routine on it. I want a copy of all the contacts and text messages, photos, emails, apps used, and whatever else is on there. Now, Scott, what was the name of the FLO last night?’
‘Joseph Glass.’
‘Right. Give him a call. Ask him to bring Alice in. She needs to make a statement and I want to know everything about their marriage, any money problems, Kevin’s work – the usual. Also, talk to the neighbours, Kevin’s work colleagues, friends. Aaron, can you sort that out?’
‘Sure.’
‘Sian, what’s happening with Mr Rainsford?’
Sian looked up from her notebook where she had been making extensive notes. ‘PC Grabowski stayed with them overnight. I called her first thing and he’s actually feeling a lot better after a good night’s sleep. She’s bringing him in after he’s showered.’
‘OK. Sian will you interview him and keep me informed?’
‘No problem.’
‘Thanks. Right, I’m going to have a word with the ACC about getting more people in this room to make it look less like a gathering of the Nick Clegg fan club.’
‘Boss,’ Rory called out, putting the phone down, ‘that was a nurse from the hospital I got chatting to last night. The woman is stable, but still critical. There’s evidence she was raped.’
ACC Valerie Masterson was enjoying breakfast at her desk. Like Matilda, she also had trouble sleeping. Once the phone call had come through about the double shooting the logistics of the case weighed heavily on her mind; this could possibly be the Murder Room’s final investigation.
Much to the annoyance of her retired husband, Valerie decided to come to work early. She wanted to prepare for the battle with Matilda. Valerie believed her still to be a fragile individual; she had only been back at work four months and in that time she had faced a fight for leadership of the Murder Room, and internal scrutiny of her ability to carry out her duties. There could have been better resumptions to her career.
The loud knock on the door did not surprise Valerie – she had actually expected it sooner than this. She was tempted to say ‘Come in Matilda,’ but decided against flippancy.
Matilda burst into the room with all the grace and determination of a charging bull.
‘Good morning, Matilda. Coffee?’
‘Please.’
‘I know why you’re here,’ Valerie began, her back to Matilda as she prepared the coffees, ‘I need you to listen to what I have to say first before you erupt.’
‘I have no intention of erupting.’ Matilda’s tense white lips told a different story.
Valerie handed over the cup and saucer remembering that Matilda took her coffee black with no sugar. It was very hot and very strong. Matilda took a sip; it was good coffee. She placed it carefully on the desk.
The silence in the room was crippling; it was like a Mexican stand-off – who would blink first. Valerie sat behind her large desk, which looked bigger than it was due to her small stature.
‘I want you to know that I fought long and hard for the Murder Room to be kept open. You’ve done a brilliant job in building up an impressive reputation, and figures have proven its success.’
‘So why is it closing?’ Despite wanting to remain calm, the firmly folded arms across Matilda’s chest suggested otherwise.
‘It’s mostly budgetary reasons. South Yorkshire Police is under intense scrutiny, as you’re aware; we’re still under the microscope with the Hillsborough inquiry and the level of sexual abuse that has emerged in Rotherham has taken its toll. We’ve got representatives from the National Crime Agency looking into this sex abuse scandal. They’ve uncovered more than three hundred potential abusers. I’m lucky to still be sitting here. As we’ve been underperforming, so they say, we’re having our budget cut. Another reason is that the levels of murder within South Yorkshire have dropped. The Chief Constable believes that a dedicated murder unit is no longer necessary.’
‘I’m guessing he hasn’t heard about the double shooting last night,’ Matilda said with a hint of sarcasm.
Valerie gave a half-smile. ‘That has come with unfortunate timing. However, the Murder Room still exists at present and you have the full backing of the force.’
‘Just not the resources.’
‘Whatever you need to help you solve this case you will have.’
‘I want more detectives.’
Valerie sighed. ‘I will do the best I can for you; however, with these aggravated burglaries occurring left, right, and centre, CID are stretched as it is. Besides, you have Mills and Connolly, Fleming and … what’s his name, blond hair?’
‘Scott Andrews. I need a replacement DI.’
‘And you’re getting one. I have several candidates to interview in the coming days.’ That was a lie. Valerie had one person left to interview. It appeared that South Yorkshire Police’s reputation was not favourable with people seeking to improve their position. It would appear nobody wanted to be associated with the force.
‘Can’t I have one from CID? What about Brady?
‘DI Brady is working round the clock on these burglaries.’
‘Brady has been in this job longer than I have and you’ve got him working on burglaries. It’s not using him to his full potential.’ Matilda’s frustration was mounting. ‘With the Murder Room closing you’re sending dedicated detectives back to menial tasks. They won’t stand for it and they’ll leave. You’ll end up with a force like a ghost town and below-par coppers out of their depth when a serious crime occurs.’
Matilda