He was an experienced detective, much to the surprise of anyone who first met him. He was blessed, or cursed, depending how you looked at it, with boyish looks. Visitors to Beech Field CID would catch a glimpse of Stevenson, with his overgrown ginger hair and freckles, and wonder with amusement, which of the exhausted saps in the office had been press-ganged into ‘bring your kid to work day’.
Kym emerged from her office looking hot and bothered. Her face was perfectly made up as always, but a soft sheen suggested she was struggling with the rising temperature.
‘Right, Maya. About Piotr Nowak.’ Maya nodded eagerly. ‘He’s a real nasty bastard so make sure you’re not left alone with him and watch your back. He’ll be taken into the medical room for body mapping with the Medacs nurse, so you can examine him in there. Make sure you hand everything over to the DC when you’re done and don’t get stuck with booking your exhibits into property. They can do it. We’ve got enough jobs running at the minute without doing their admin.’
Grabbing a biscuit from the packet next to the office kettle, Kym gave a half-hearted clap and marched back into her office. Maya started to get ready for her trip to custody just as the office phone rang again. She snatched it up quickly so as not to have to bother any of her colleagues with another call. It was the communications officer telling her that they had been shouting for any available SOCO officers over the air but had received no response.
‘Everyone’s tied up at the minute so probably didn’t hear,’ Maya explained as she clipped a battery into her own personal radio.
‘I know, it’s been a crazy day,’ said the nasal comms officer. ‘I’m sorry to add to your workload, but we’ve just had a sudden death come in too. Cedar Lane CID are covering it, but they’re asking for SOCO to be made aware.’
Taking details of the log number, Maya scribbled a quick note and passed it to Amanda. At times like this, when all staff were tied up on major scenes, assistance would be requested from a neighbouring division such as Alder Street or Cedar Lane. The mention of a sudden death made her think of Karl Gorman and the nagging thought that she had missed something. She shook her head, ridding herself of the notion. It was over and done with and she needed to focus on what was going on today. She pitied whoever picked up a death in this heat. She was glad she was heading down to custody. At least it might be a bit cooler down there.
DC Mike Malone appeared in the corridor and signalled to Maya. Late fifties, grey hair and with a stocky build, Malone had pretty much seen and done it all during his extensive career. Maya was quite glad it was him she was working with. If anyone had the skills to get Piotr Nowak to cooperate, it was Malone.
Clutching the strategy sheet and everything she needed, Maya and Malone headed companionably down to the custody suite. Maya had been before on several occasions, but never felt comfortable there. The airlock passageway between the main police corridor and custody always made her feel claustrophobic. One door had to be closed and locked before the other could be opened. That moment of being locked in limbo seemed to last longer every time she visited.
The suite was painted in the typical corporate blue of the rest of the police station. Opposite the holding cell stood a tall, horseshoe-shaped desk where the prisoners were processed. The custody officers perched on tall chairs as they tapped details into the computer screen, surrounded by posters explaining prisoners’ rights and advice for those with drug or alcohol addiction. Closest to the desk was a cell with floor-to-ceiling windows, where any vulnerable prisoners at risk of self-harm could be easily monitored.
Time always seemed to stand still in custody. No matter what mayhem was going on upstairs with requests for urgent forensic examinations and detective actions, the custody suite ticked along at its own steady pace, almost like an airport lounge. Things down here took as long as they took and there was no way of rushing it.
Malone headed behind the horseshoe counter to speak to one of the custody staff and obtain the keys for Nowak’s cell. While she waited, Maya watched as a tear-stained, scrawny-looking individual was processed for burglary. He was a pathetic sight, crying and begging to go home. He must have weighed no more than nine stone wet through. He was wheedling and pleading with the custody sergeant to let him phone his mum and girlfriend.
Maya wished that victims of burglary could witness this. She had seen so many people left devastated and terrified after a break-in. Some never got over the fear and violation. It caused them to become prisoners in their own home. Too scared to be there but terrified to leave in case they were broken into again. Most victims pictured a burly, aggressive offender with a sharp criminal mind. They were convinced the offenders had been stalking them and their property for weeks. The reality was this poor excuse for a human. He was either funding a drug habit or just after an easy way to pilfer money. Likely an opportunist who thought it was his God-given right to steal from hard-working, honest individuals. Too arrogant to care about the consequences his actions had on others.
Eventually, the burglar was led away to a cell by a dishevelled custody officer. Malone reappeared at the desk accompanied by a surly-looking man. He was tall with a large build and clearly liked throwing weights around. He was unshaven and his face was fixed in a hard, stony expression. Nowak radiated aggression and contempt. Not one to be easily intimidated, Maya was unnerved by the sight and sheer size of him.
Malone gestured to one of the benches that lined the wall of the custody suite, but Nowak refused to sit, choosing to pace like an angry lion. They waited for the custody sergeant to process another two prisoners painfully slowly before it was Nowak’s turn. Malone had attempted to interject and goad the sergeant into dealing with his prisoner first but had been left in no uncertain terms that the custody suite was his domain and there would be no queue-jumping.
When he was eventually summoned forward with a regal wave of the hand, Malone stepped up to the custody desk and explained that Nowak was to be subject to a forensic examination, which would include photographs. He would also have to surrender his clothing and footwear. Nowak was told that he could refuse to consent to be examined, but this decision would be overridden, and the samples needed could be taken by force if necessary. By the time the custody sergeant had finished explaining everything to Nowak, he was visibly seething and posturing in front of the sergeant’s desk.
‘I know it’s a pain in the arse, Piotr, but you’ve been here before and you know the drill. The sooner we get this bit over with I can sort you out with something to eat and drink and arrange for you to meet with your brief.’ Malone talked as if he was coaxing a toddler into doing something he didn’t want to do. ‘You know me well enough by now. I’ve always been all right with you, haven’t I?’ Malone continued.
Nowak responded with a grunt and dropped his shoulders somewhat, giving the appearance of a shrugging silverback gorilla. ‘Right, get on with it, but I want a phone call too. I want to check Markita is all right. You’ve not arrested her, have you?’
‘No. She’s gone to stay with her sister while we have a quick search of her place. You know it’s just procedure, don’t you?’ Malone sounded apologetic. ‘Once this examination is done, I’ll arrange for the sergeant to let you ring her before you go back to your cell.’
Malone directed him towards the medical room in an avuncular manner; Maya trailed behind. They stayed outside the room briefly while the Medacs nurse had a quick word with Nowak to establish if he had any injuries or illnesses that she needed to be aware of. The nurse would be present throughout the examination so she could assist with the body mapping of any injuries or scars that might be identified. Once she’d asked the questions, she waved the pair of them in.
Malone took control of the situation and politely asked Nowak to stand to allow Maya to take her first series of photographs. As she took profile shots of the man, she was further astounded by the sheer height and build of him. She was grateful for Malone’s appeasing manner as he chatted away. She prayed that Nowak wou
ld remain placated and not cause any trouble during the examination. In his presence the small room felt airless, as though the walls could swallow her up.
Fortunately, Nowak appeared to relax, or at least began to respond in a less surly manner. Malone was chatting to him about mutual acquaintances – criminals and cops – as if they were old colleagues, which in a peculiar way, thought Maya, they were. As the lengthy examination progressed, Nowak turned his attention to Maya.
‘What’s your name?’ he said as she swapped her camera lenses over.
‘Maya,’ she answered without looking up.
‘Maya what?’
She paused briefly, reluctant to tell him her surname, but not wanting to break the fragile acquiescence Malone had worked so hard to encourage, she said, ‘Barton, Maya Barton.’
‘You local, Maya?’ Nowak persisted.
‘Fairly,’ she replied non-committally, hoping he would stop asking her personal questions. She looked up and caught Malone’s eye, hoping he would interject, but he seemed oblivious to her pleading look.
‘Brothers and sisters?’ Nowak continued.
‘Nope, just me.’
‘What do your parents do?’ He wasn’t giving up on his interrogation.
‘My mum’s a typist.’ Maya didn’t want to reveal that she was a community nurse as his next question would inevitably be ‘which surgery’. Maya had worked as a typist for a law firm for eighteen months before she started working at the car dealers and knew from experience that if you told someone you were a typist, they rarely probed further.
‘What about your dad?’
‘Dead,’ Maya said with a finality that appeared to bring Malone to his senses.
‘How’s your brother doing these days, Piotr? I’ve not had any dealings with him in years. Is he keeping well?’
Her feeling of relief over the sudden change of subject was palpable.
‘He’s been straight for years.’ Nowak’s face contorted with disgust. ‘He met a girl who completely pussy-whipped him and he moved to Yorkshire with her. Can’t remember the last time I spoke to him, the wanker.’
Distracted by talk of his brother and reminiscing about the scrapes the two siblings had got into when they were younger, Nowak dismissed Maya from any further attention. The rest of the examination proceeded without incident and she was relieved when it was all over. A steady trickle of sweat was snaking between her shoulder blades. It wasn’t just due to the temperature, but more the tension of being in the presence of someone so menacing.
Maya nodded towards the nurse and turned to Nowak as she was about to leave. ‘Thanks for your time,’ she spoke with more cheer than she felt.
‘Bye, Maya Barton. I’ll see you around.’
Although he spoke pleasantly enough, Maya couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the weight of his words. She quickly handed the exhibits over to Malone as if they were a ticking time bomb.
She couldn’t get out of the custody suite quick enough. Nowak had unnerved her although she wasn’t the faint-hearted type. He reminded her of someone from her past. Someone who caused her to shudder violently. Maya ran back to the office, determined to put as much space between Nowak and her memories as possible. Despite her best efforts, she was sensible enough to know she could never outrun the past. It was going to catch up with her one day. And sooner than she thought.
12
By the time Maya returned to the office from the custody suite, Kym, Amanda and Chris had gone home and Nicola had returned to Markita Milani’s address. Chris had texted her a picture of his middle finger, which could only be in response to his powdered car. Smiling, she sent him a kiss emoji back. She decided to update details of Nowak’s examination onto Socrates, the scientific support database, and then she would check the police log to see if any other jobs had come through while she’d been downstairs. If not, she would contact Connor and take some of the burglary scenes from his list.
Maya had downloaded the images of Nowak and was checking them on the computer screen when she was suddenly interrupted by a loud exclamation.
‘Cor, he’s a big bastard, isn’t he?’
Maya nearly jumped out of her skin.
‘Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to startle you.’
Maya hadn’t even heard Elaine Hall walk in, which was unusual as she kept all her keys on a carabiner clip on her belt buckle. She usually sounded like Marley’s ghost as she rattled around the office. Elaine was the eldest of the SOCOs; she had fading blonde hair, a plump face and rosy complexion. She was known for her mercurial temperament and had a propensity for saying what everyone else was thinking.
‘Piotr Nowak. Just had the pleasure of processing him in custody.’ Maya turned the computer screen towards Elaine so she could have a closer look.
‘Ah, yeah. I recognise him now. He’s beefed up since I last saw him. Must have discovered steroids. I met him a few years ago when he was arrested for assault. His solicitor must be fucking good ’cause he never seems to get put away.’ Elaine flopped on the chair next to Maya letting an array of exhibit bags drop to her feet.
‘I heard you picked the stabbing up. You all done?’ Maya nodded towards the exhibits.
‘Yeah, thank God. It was a nightmare of a scene. David McCluskey was stabbed on Saturday evening, but didn’t take himself to hospital. Instead, he’s been administering to his own injuries while slowly pissing blood all over the place. He’s not telling us what happened, and if it wasn’t for the cops turning up to let him know about his brother, God knows what would have happened to him. He’s described as poorly but stable.
‘What is it about these criminals, Maya? If that were us, we’d be dead by now. This shower of shites seem to have nine lives. A few hours ago, they were worried his injuries may prove life-threatening. I bet you by this time tomorrow he’s back on his feet with barely a scratch. Bastards.
‘Did Nowak have any injuries?’ Elaine then asked, turning her attention back to the computer screen.
‘Nope, a few old scars but no fresh injuries and certainly nothing consistent with him being involved in the stabbing. Did you find the knife?’
‘Nah, not in the house. I got the TAU out to do a search. They pulled a couple of the grid covers up, found a rusty old blade and two mouldy-looking cartridge cases, so God knows how long they’ve been there.’ She rubbed her eyes, clearly exhausted. ‘Here, you couldn’t make us a brew, could you, while I go and stick these clothes in the drying cabinet? His jeans are dripping in claret.’ Elaine gave Maya a pleading grin.
The forensic drying cabinet was used to dry out items of clothing recovered from crime scenes. It protected items from cross-contamination because of the thorough cleaning process between uses and helped contain any particulates on clothing. The drying cabinet was situated in the second examination room, towards the back of the office, which also housed a fingerprint powder-booth and photographic copy-stand.
‘Go and sort your stuff then, I’ll stick the kettle on,’ Maya acquiesced.
‘I timed that right, didn’t I?’ said a voice just as the kettle clicked off. Maya grinned at the sight of a short, stocky man with a bald head wearing large round glasses.
‘Tony.’ She smiled as the two exchanged a hug. ‘It’s great to see you, what are you doing here?’ Maya had worked with Tony Harwood when she was based at Alder Street. He had mentored her the most during her time there. He was an experienced SOCO, a dedicated family man and a genuinely lovely guy.
‘Picked up a sudden death for you lot. I believe you’ve been a bit busy today?’ Tony leaned against a desk as he watched Maya make the drinks.
‘Yeah, we have. They rang it in as I was on my way to custody to process a prisoner. Bloody hell, Tony,’ she glanced at her watch, ‘it didn’t take you long to do, did it? I’ve taken longer at burglary scenes!’
Tony laughed. ‘By the time I got there, they were happy it wasn’t suspicious. Hey, I met your mum there – Dominique?’
‘Why was my mu
m at a crime scene?’
‘He was one of her patients. She found him and rang us. She was giving a statement to the cops when I arrived and asked me if I knew you. Lovely lady. She seemed a bit upset though.’
‘She cares a lot about her patients. Who was he?’
Tony laughed scornfully. ‘I can’t imagine she would have cared too much about this one. He’s a bloke called Jim Baron. He was a bit of a nasty bastard back in the day by all accounts, so it’s no great loss. He was in bad health, seriously overweight and suffered with COPD. It looks like a heart attack. Cedar Lane took the call and there’s a new DI over there. I think he just got a bit overexcited and wanted to call us in before using his common sense. You know what they can be like.’
‘I’ll ring her later and check she’s okay. It’s not the first time something like that has happened, but I can imagine it must still have been a shock for her. So, definitely not suspicious then?’
‘Nah. He’ll go for a coronial PM tomorrow. On the off-chance they do find anything dodgy, which I doubt, they’ll stop it and call in a home office pathologist. There’s certainly nothing sus at the scene.’
‘But how do you know there’s nothing suspicious. Have you ever been to a job like that and felt that something isn’t quite right?’ Maya recalled yet again the feeling of apprehension she had experienced at Gorman’s house.
‘Erm… some jobs have you scratching your head more than others as you piece together what’s happened. Usually, we establish relatively quickly whether something’s suspicious or not.’
‘I know, but have you ever had a feeling that something’s not quite right even though everything else points to a non-suspicious death?’
Tony eyed her carefully as he pondered on her question before eventually replying. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing…’
‘Maya…’
‘I had my first body the other day…’
Definitely Dead Page 7
