Authors: Rebecca Bradley
23
The
incident room was quiet and still. Like an early morning pond before
the wildlife wakes and creates the ripples and sound that fills their
day. I'd raised myself from an empty bed again. Nothing had
changed.
I
searched out Grey, who kept longer hours than anyone, including me. He
was sharp as far as keeping on top of things went. He'd be aware of
every angle of the ongoing investigation, every progress made and every
step in the planning. He was meticulous and organised. A climber.
He was at his desk, squinting, eyebrows tucked down as he read from his computer monitor.
“Morning, sir,” I said from the doorway.
“Morning, Hannah.” He waved a hand at the chair in front of his desk. “Come in.”
I
sat opposite him and watched as he finished reading. The small lines
running across his forehead looked like ripples in the sand after a
heavy storm. He looked up.
“What's the current update?”
My
phone vibrated in my pocket. “Sorry sir, let me just check this.” Grey
nodded and went back to his work. I fished it out and checked the
screen.
Caller withheld.
“Robbins.”
Silence.
“Hello. DI Robbins.”
Silence.
The
lit screen showed that the call was still open. Grey watched. I said
hello to the caller once more before hanging up and moving on.
“Rosie
Green has been identified by her parents. It gives us something to work
with. I'm holding a team briefing this morning and I'm going to push
forensics to see where they're at.”
Grey's
eyes narrowed. We both knew forensic science had to be taken in context
of any given situation and wasn't the be all and end all of answers. He
was feeling the pressure from the top. The Chief Constable was watching
the case. Any negative press on the force was always a blow in these
times of accountability. It affected job security and everyone wanted
to cover themselves as much as they wanted to do the right thing.
“We're putting in the hours, sir. Everyone is giving this everything they have.”
Grey
nodded. These things could take time and time was something the press
was reluctant to give a police force in the murder investigation of a
child.
“We need something positive, Hannah. Find out what happened to her.”
“Now
we have the definitive ID we can work on her history, her friends,
family, and activities. The DI down there, Clive Tripps, has a good
team and they're doing everything we ask. Add Martin to that, and we
are well placed to know everything and have real time input. We're
waiting on a lot of information. The trace evidence from the scene is
being processed and you know that's a painful process. Being dumped in
an alleyway with the rubbish isn't the easiest scene to deal with. DNA
results from the semen will take a few days, as will results from under
nail scrapings. Work is also being done on the bruising patterns found
on her body. The investigation has everything we can throw at it.”
Which was a lot considering the economic climate.
Grey rubbed his forehead, but the sand ripples remained. “What else are we doing, other than waiting on people and results?”
“Plenty.
There are on-going enquiries with the restaurant and banks to identify
patrons where the body was found. We're following up the alibis of sex
offenders, local CCTV needs to be gone through at a steady pace and all
vehicles identified as well as door knocking. There's a lot of work and
not enough staff as usual, but we're doing everything we can.”
“Get this bastard, Hannah, and the sooner the better before the press eats us alive.”
24
After
updating Grey and checking through more emails that had arrived
overnight, I gathered the team in the conference room, a bland
rectangular space with several tables pushed together to form a larger
table for users to sit around.
The
inquiry team filed in. Aaron looked healthier for a night in his own
bed. Sally looked happier, but still a little peaky. Ross, well he
looked just like Ross. Jack sauntered in with his steaming mug,
muttering under his breath about the lack of full fat milk available.
I'd asked Jack, Doug Howell the crime scene tech, and Evie to attend
this morning’s meeting. It was best practice to get everyone together
so all strands of the investigation could be discussed and nothing
missed. Claire Betts walked in with her folder and a couple of pens
clipped to it.
“Morning, Hannah. You going to keep me busy for a while?” she asked.
“You
know me, Claire. I'm not happy unless I'm running around and
overworked, so I need someone to join me.” She laughed and sat in a
chair, pulling it up to the table, straightening her folder. “I'd be
sorry if you didn't.”
Grey
followed Claire in and was leaning against a wall, his frown lines well
excavated. My earlier attempts to reassure him we would deal with this
hadn't hit the right spot.
The
local press had started asking questions of the police investigation.
I'd appraised myself of the recent articles and had seen yesterday’s
main topic was the lack of identification. Today it would take on a
whole different slant and I imagined it would also hit the national
press which would put pressure on the local reporters to get in closer.
It was after all, their community, plus we would be hit by hard-nosed
national journalists. The media would be on a rampage only they could
create, and often were unable to stop once they had started the
speeding train. I thought of Ethan. He would be working this. The
pressure was mounting. Having an identification meant we had
somewhere to start looking from. Victimology was a better starting
point for the investigation, but it was complicated by Rosie being from
so far away.
I
waited for the chatter to die down, then started. “Thanks for coming
in. We need all heads on this.” I had their attention. “The operational
name has been allocated and is Operation Halyard. We'll start by
looking at what information we already have, assess it and see where we
go from there. We'll start with the crime scene. What did you find
Doug?”
“As
we've discussed, it doesn't look like it was the murder scene. The girl
was naked which suggests she was dumped in the alley after being
murdered elsewhere. The offender had access to the alley from two
directions and no CCTV to cover it. Gives the impression of local
knowledge.”
I nodded.
“It
was a terrible site to process. We have so much to go through back at
the lab and most of it's going to be irrelevant so it would be helpful
if anyone can help narrow things down. Tell us what needs to take
priority and what needs testing specifically. Testing everything is
going to cost.” He paused. I saw Ross roll his eyes and I was glad he
didn't make comment. “Also, I've brought the scene photos over with
me.” He pushed a brown envelope towards me. I touched it with the tips
of my fingers and pulled it closer.
“Thanks, Doug. We'll give you as much information as and when it comes in.”
He nodded.
“On
the point of CCTV, how have the house to house enquiries gone and
checks for local business CCTV recordings?” I looked at Ross and Sally.
“No-one
saw anything when house to house was conducted,” Sally replied. “There
are some addresses that need going back to, but in the main, people are
used to a lot of activity around and about there. It's a city centre.
Cars and people come with the territory and the locals are used to it
and sleep pretty well through noise and disturbances.”
“Well,
we seemed to wake them up easily.” I was annoyed. It was typical around
here. No-one was interested in helping, but they damn well screamed for
service if they needed us. “And CCTV?” This time I directed the
question to Ross.
“We're
still working our way through it. A few premises have handed over their
recordings, but it's going to take a while to view it all and I'm
planning on taking the premises visits a bit wider than I've managed so
far. It's still on-going.”
“Okay. Jack?”
He
put his mug down in front of him. “You have the preliminary report.
Cause of death was asphyxiation. The position she was found in and the
lividity present would seem to back up Doug's assumption she was indeed
moved and the alley was a dump site. She was badly beaten prior to
death. Some of the bruising indicates on-going abuse weeks before
death, not just at the time of death.”
“How long was she missing?” asked Sally
“Two weeks,” I answered.
“So what about the bruising? Does it correspond to the time frame?”
I
looked at Jack for the answer. He took his glasses off and rubbed at
the lenses with the hem of his stripy jumper. “She had been through the
mill. She had a lot of bruising over a large portion of her body. Some
bruises were recent. They were large and dark indicating they were new.
Others across her body were fading and were yellowish-brown. This
indicates the original bruise occurred about eight to nine days ago.
There were small bruises that had all but disappeared, so yes, I'd say
she was being hurt from at least two weeks ago.”
“So it's a waiting game on anything further?” I asked.
“Unfortunately,
yes. I'm still waiting for toxicology and results of stomach contents.
They will take a while I'm afraid. I do intend to examine the body
again in the coming days to check for bruises that weren't visible at
the time of post-mortem.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
Next,
Aaron talked about the school and the fact Rosie had sought out
contraceptive advice. We were waiting for records from Rosie's GP and
school nurse. I had nothing extra to add from the visit to the best
friend’s address. It was the same story. Rosie was a good girl until a
few weeks before she went missing, at which point she pulled away from
people and became insular.
The
local sex offenders all checked out. Sally and Ross had worked hard on
corroborating them yesterday while Aaron and I had been in Norwich, so
they were a dead end.
Evie
stated she couldn't find any trace of Rosie being on any of the social
networking sites which confirms the information coming from Norwich,
that Rosie was from a quiet family who wanted her to stay a child while
she still was one.
We talked in circles. We couldn't find a link between Norwich and us. Between Rosie and here. Between anything.
It
had been a long couple of days but I could see everyone was ready for
the work we still has ahead of us. A child killer is a big incentive to
get cops to pull the last drop of energy they have out of the hat and
push forward.
Finally I turned to Claire. “What's the agreed strategy for the press release?”
The
pen that had been swinging through her fingers had stopped and swirls
had appeared on the pad in front of her. “We're going to identify her
to the press. Chris Stewart from Norwich has sent us an up to date
photograph of Rosie and we're going to appeal to anyone who may have
seen her in and around the local area. We're expecting the nationals to
pick it up today, so we will have a wider audience. Someone may be able
to help.”
A wider audience and a wider section of the public demanding answers.
I
left the building tired. The rest of the day had passed in a blur of
files, meetings and decision making. A call to Martin had found him in
good spirits and about to head into another interview with a different
girl from Rosie's class. Nothing had come up we weren't already aware
of.
A glass of red wine was a welcome pleasure waiting for me at home. The
joy of living alone meant I could please myself and not have to worry
about the sensitivities of others. I changed clothes and relaxed in
front of some American science fiction drama where Earth inhabitants
battled aliens. It was escapism and I sucked it all up as fast as I
soaked up the half bottle of red.
A brief text message from Ethan explained he was busy and would call me in the day.
Sally was already there when I arrived at the incident room the next morning at seven a.m. She also looked more refreshed.
“Anyone else in?” I asked.
She looked around the room, “Yes, Ross is in somewhere. He said something about checking the overnight incident logs.”
“Okay,”
I mumbled as I walked away to my office, switching on the computer to
boot up for another day's work. It was chilly. I hung my suit jacket up
and pulled on a thick beige cardigan from the the back of a chair. The
monitor came to life, the force logo appeared, and then flickered as
the rest of the software loaded. Eventually the computer was
functioning. I brought up my email in-box. Twenty seven emails in less
than twelve hours. I scanned through them. Forensics had sent an
electronic copy of the scene photos, Claire had forwarded me a copy of
the press release and Jack had invited me to a murder mystery night.
Just the kind of tongue in cheek event he would love. I'd need to check
my diary and get back to him.
I
walked back into the incident room which had filled up. Sounds of
tapping keyboards and conversations. I sat on the corner of Aaron's
desk and was greeted by a functional: “Morning.”
“I
spoke to Martin last night,” I informed him. He carried on tapping at
his keyboard. “Aaron?” He worked on. It was then that I noticed the
discreet earplugs he sometimes wore in the office to block out the
noise while he worked. I tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, his
face showing confusion at the interruption. I pointed at my own ears
and he pulled out his plugs. “I spoke to Martin last night,” I said
again.
“Okay.”
“Nothing new so far. They have a lot to get through though.”
“Okay.”
He was not going to give me much else in the way of conversation. The
door opened with a slam as Ross came in, his face serious, jaw clenched
up tight. I waited for him to speak but didn't expect what came.
“Another body's been found.”