by Sally Rigby
‘I haven’t got close enough to smell. I’ll do that back at the lab. In the meantime, let me continue, so we can move the body and find out more.’
George glanced around the murder site. ‘Did you say this was the first stop?’ she asked.
‘Second. Why?’ Whitney replied.
‘Look under the table on the floor. A ticket.’
‘Let me photograph it first,’ Claire said, stepping in front of them.
Once the photo had been taken, Whitney pulled on some disposable gloves, leaned down, and picked it up. ‘It’s got today’s date on it, and the journey was from Coventry to Lenchester.’
‘The murderer could have dropped it,’ George said.
‘He could, but how likely would that be when you consider he’s never left any evidence before?’ Whitney said.
‘True. It could be the victim’s. Or dropped from a random traveller,’ she suggested.
‘Although we shouldn’t dismiss the possibility it belonged to the killer,’ Whitney said. ‘Regular travellers will most likely pay online, using a railcard, and not have a physical ticket.’
‘Good point. I doubt the killer would buy his ticket online; the virtual paper trail would be too incriminating,’ George said.
‘We certainly have to consider it a lead.’ Whitney dropped the ticket into an evidence bag. ‘I’ll get forensics on to it as soon as we get back. See if we can find some prints. Claire, have you finished photographing the victim’s handbag? I want to look inside it for any identification.’
‘Yes.’
Whitney picked up the black leather handbag and moved to one side. George followed. Inside was a blue wallet-purse, and from one of the pockets she pulled out a driving license. George peered over Whitney’s shoulder to look at it. The photo matched the victim, whose name was Lena Kirk.
‘We need to find out her contact details, so we can get in touch with the family.’ Whitney pulled her phone from her pocket and keyed in a number.
‘Hello, Ellie. It’s me. The second victim is Lena Kirk, date of birth ten, four, sixty-eight. I need her details a-sap. She’s likely from Coventry or Banbury. We’ll be back in the office later.’
Whitney ended the call. ‘Let’s go and see Annie Houghton, the woman who found the body.’
They left the train and went to the manager’s office. Whitney knocked and opened the door. Sitting with a uniformed officer was a woman in her thirties, wearing a business suit.
‘Do you feel up to talking to us, now?’ Whitney asked gently.
Annie nodded. ‘Yes, I’m feeling a little better.’ She took a sip of water from the cup in her hand.
‘You can go, now,’ Whitney said to the officer.
‘Yes, guv.’
‘This is Dr Cavendish,’ Whitney said as they both sat opposite the woman. ‘Please could you go through exactly what happened, starting from when you got onto the train.’
‘I was running late and hopped onto the first carriage I came to. I walked through the train, looking for a seat with a table so I could do some work. I work in London, so manage to get quite a lot done while travelling. I put my laptop on the table and glanced at the woman sitting opposite. I thought she was asleep, at first, as lots of people doze off on the morning trains. But then I looked again and could see blood around her chest area, and her eyes were slightly open … looking vacant. I grabbed my laptop and ran off the train, calling for help.’
‘Was there anybody else in the carriage?’
‘Not in that section, but further up there were a few. The train doesn’t start getting busy until we get to Rugby, and even then, it doesn’t get full like the fast commuter train. That’s why I prefer it.’
‘Did you notice anyone getting off the train as you were getting on?’ Whitney asked.
‘No, I’m sorry, I didn’t. I was too busy finding somewhere to sit.’
‘What about after you found the body and alerted the staff at the station? Did you notice anything strange then?’ Whitney asked.
‘No. Everything’s a blur. I was so intent on calling for help.’
‘We’d like you to make a written statement. I have some officers taking them in the waiting room.’
‘Can I do it straight away? I have to get to work for an important meeting.’
Would she be in a fit state to attend a meeting, once the enormity of the situation hit her later? George doubted it.
‘That shouldn’t be a problem. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to my detective sergeant.’
‘Will I be able to catch the next train to London?’
‘I’ll be speaking to the station manager about keeping part of the station open,’ Whitney said.
George followed as Whitney escorted the woman into the waiting area and called Matt over.
‘Please could you interview Annie Houghton immediately, and take her statement. She found the victim.’
‘Yes, guv.’
After leaving Matt with the woman, they found the station manager, and Whitney agreed for all incoming trains to stop at platform four, which was on the other side of the bridge and away from the crime scene.
‘You look as though you could do with a cup of coffee,’ Whitney said once they were alone.
George nodded. ‘That might help. I’ve taken tablets, but it still feels like the drums of death are going off in my head.’
‘The what?’ Whitney frowned.
‘Drums of death. They’re often played at funerals, especially in Africa,’ she explained.
‘Only you could come up with something like that when hungover.’ Whitney grinned.
‘I can’t take your humour this morning,’ she said, grimacing.
‘Well, that’ll teach you to get wasted on a workday.’ A smug expression crossed Whitney’s face.
George couldn’t be bothered to retaliate. ‘Where to now?’ she asked.
‘I’ll meet you back at the office. I need forensics to take a look at the ticket, as it’s the only lead we’ve got, then we’ll visit Transwide.’
Chapter Twelve
Thursday, 12 June
All the way back to the station Whitney smiled, thinking about George and her hangover. She definitely wanted to meet this Ross chap. Anyone who could make the uptight, focused, forensic psychologist get shit-faced on real ale, especially during the week, had to be someone special.
They met up outside the station and walked in together, stopping at the vending machine on the way to the incident room, so George could get herself something to eat and drink.
‘This is a whole new side to you,’ Whitney quipped.
‘Give it a rest, Whitney. I didn’t have time for breakfast, as you called me in early. That’s all.’
‘Well, I like it,’ she said, choosing to ignore George’s hostile tone, as she understood what she was going through, having nursed many drink-induced headaches over the years.
They walked into the incident room, and Whitney handed the evidence bag with the ticket in it to one of the officers. ‘Take this to forensics. I need it back as soon as possible.’
‘Yes, guv.’
She then made her way over to Frank who was staring at the computer screen.
‘Frank, get in touch with the railway station. We need CCTV footage from this morning. Check who got off the train at Lenchester, and see if you can match it to anybody that got off on the day of the previous murder. Also, get in touch with both Coventry and Banbury and check their CCTV, too.’
‘Not too much to do, then.’ He shook his head.
‘We have two dead bodies, and we’re likely to get two more if the pattern is anything to go by. So, yes. There’s going to be a lot of work. Think of the overtime money.’ Whitney was unable to hide her frustration with the older officer, who had a tendency to be lazy if she let him. That aside, he was one of the most loyal members of her team, and she’d miss him when he retired in a couple of years.
‘Well, you can tell the missus if I’ve got to work late toni
ght. She’s arranged some fancy dinner party with our new neighbours, and I promised to be home by seven.’
‘Why would she arrange something during the week when she knows there’s a possibility you’ll be late?’ Whitney asked.
‘How the hell do I know? I’m sure she had some reason.’ He shrugged.
‘Let’s see where we’ve got to by six-thirty, and then we’ll make a decision.’
Whitney knew from experience, if she didn’t offer some hope, Frank would be moaning all day and his concentration would be shot. Providing he worked hard and went through all the information they had, there was every chance she’d let him go home in time for his guests’ arrival.
‘Ellie, what have you got on Transwide?’ she asked the officer who was walking past.
‘Head office is in Coventry. They own eleven rail operators throughout the UK.’
‘Text me their details and arrange for me to see someone high up and with clout, straight away. We’ll be there in an hour.’
She walked over to the board where George was standing, staring into space.
‘Come on, let’s get with it,’ she cajoled the doctor.
‘I’m fine. I was just waiting for you,’ George said.
She wrote the victim’s name on board. ‘Two victims, and two more to follow within the next ten days. And our only link is Transwide, which is where we’re going, now.’
The journey to Coventry only took forty-five minutes, as it was mainly motorway, and soon they were pulling into the Transwide car park. The tall, impressive building was modern, clad with concrete panels, and had stainless-steel windows.
‘How do you fancy working in a place like this?’ Whitney said.
‘Not for me. I much prefer the Victorian buildings at the university. They’ve got so much more character. This is cold and uninspiring,’ the doctor replied.
‘Yes, I know what you mean. I’m dreading when they finally finish our brand-new station and we have to move. I much prefer where we are, despite the fact that we freeze our wotsits off during the winter.’
They parked in the visitors’ section of the car park and headed into the building through a large revolving door. They walked across a marble floor and up to reception. Ellie had been in touch to confirm she’d arranged for the Chief Operating Officer to see them.
‘DCI Walker and Dr Cavendish to see Judy Tucker,’ she said to the young man on reception.
‘Please take a seat, and I’ll let her office know you’re here.’ He gestured to the seating area, where there were several black leather couches and a low glass coffee table, with a variety of magazines on it.
As they sat, they could hear him phone through and announce their arrival.George picked up one of the magazines and flicked through it while Whitney looked around. If their head office was anything to go by, Transwide was an extremely profitable company.
‘Leave the talking to me,’ she said.
‘Seriously, you still think you have to tell me? This is the third case we’ve worked on, and there has never yet been an interview where you’ve allowed me to take the lead,’ George said.
‘I just wanted to make sure you remembered,’ she said. ‘But feel free to ask a question if you think I’ve missed something.’
‘What’s got into you, being so generous? I’m very impressed,’ George said, arching an eyebrow.
She was just about to reply when someone approached them.
‘DCI Walker?’ the woman said.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m Ms Tucker’s assistant. Please come with me, and I’ll take you to her office.’
They followed the woman to the lift, and took it to the twentieth floor, labelled Operations. After stepping out, they entered a huge open-plan office, which they walked through until reaching a large corner office, with glass windows the entire width and depth of two walls. As they walked in, a woman in her fifties stood up. She was as tall as George and had dark hair scraped back into a chignon. She was elegantly dressed, in a navy trouser suit with a white shirt underneath, and a gold necklace and matching earrings.
‘Good morning, I’m Judy Tucker.’
Whitney showed her warrant card. ‘I’m DCI Walker and this is Dr Cavendish, from Lenchester CID.’
‘Please sit down. Would you like a coffee?
‘That would be lovely,’ Whitney said.
‘Iris, please organise coffee for three. Take a seat,’ Judy said, gesturing to the seats in front of her desk.
‘Thank you,’ Whitney said.
‘How can I help?’
‘We’re investigating the murders taking place on various train lines belonging to Transwide. The latest target is Lenchester. You may have heard about the first murder, which happened last Sunday. The second was this morning.’
‘Will this ever end?’ She shook her head. ‘It’s an awful situation and has troubled the company greatly. I wasn’t involved in previous discussions with the police, as I’ve only been here for three months. My predecessor worked on it.’
‘Is there any chance they’re available to talk to?’ Whitney asked.
‘No. Unfortunately he was tragically killed in a skiing accident. It was dreadful. He left behind a wife and three small children.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that. We’re not sure how much information you provided to the other forces investigating, but one avenue we’re considering is that the killer is someone who has a grudge against the company. We’d like to know about any customers who have sent you threatening letters or have made threats on social media. It could also be a disgruntled employee. Do you know of any?’
‘That’s easier said than done. We employ over fifty-five thousand people, either directly in our head office or in one of the eleven rail operators we own. As far as customers are concerned, I’m afraid threats go with the territory,’ Judy said.
‘Do you keep copies of any threats?’ Whitney asked.
‘Anything serious we pass onto the police. There will be a record of them in the system. I can ask one of my HR managers to access them for you.’
‘What about records on disgruntled employees?’
‘Again, a company our size is bound to have employees who are unhappy, especially any who have been sacked or made redundant.’
‘The murders have been taking place over a period of two years, so it will be related to something which happened before then. Can you think of anything that might have prompted someone to want to get back at Transwide?’
‘Let me call Iris. She’s been here longer than me.’
Before she had time to contact her assistant, the door opened and she came in holding a tray of coffee, which she placed on the desk.
‘Thank you, Iris. While you’re here, can you think back to over two years ago, to someone who might have had a grudge against the company, possibly a past employee?’
‘In 2014 we did make a thousand people redundant,’ Iris said. ‘It caused a lot of anxiety and the union got involved, but the redundancies still went ahead.’
‘I’d like a list of those employees,’ Whitney said.
‘I thought the murders didn’t start until 2017. How could this be relevant?’ Judy asked.
‘We don’t know if it is, but it’s a line of enquiry we need to undertake,’ Whitney said.
‘We have the Data Protection Act to consider,’ Judy said.
Whitney sucked in a breath. It was always the first thing thrown at them whenever they asked for information. It was so frustrating.
‘We could get a warrant for the information, but that would set the enquiry back. The next murder is due to take place soon. We’d much rather you cooperated with us on this. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the guilt of knowing a murder could’ve been prevented if only you’d assisted.’
The woman paled. ‘I need to clear it with our HR Director, but she’s on leave at the moment. I’ll endeavour to contact her.’
‘Iris, were these redundancies focused on a particular occupational area, or
from all levels in the company?’ George asked.
‘They were mainly drivers, conductors, and ground staff. The more automated the services became, the fewer staff we needed. We were unable to deploy most of them because their skills weren’t transferable,’ Iris said.
‘Thank you.’
Iris left the office, and Judy handed out the coffee. Whitney sniffed hers and nodded appreciatively. None of the cheap stuff they had back at work.
‘Are you sure there’s a chance it could be one of these employees?’ Judy asked.
‘Aside from them leaving several years ago, they’d certainly have good working knowledge of the train system,’ George said.
‘Do drivers tend to stick to the same train lines, or do you move them around?’ Whitney asked.
‘Each rail operator employs their own staff, and driver logistics are undertaken at grass roots level. Our work with each individual operator is mainly in respect of their HR requirements.’
‘Are the procedures regarding employment and deployment similar between operators?’ George asked.
‘They all work under the same guidelines, as laid down by us. Within our office here, we have a team dedicated to each of the operators. These are overseen by our HR Director.’
Whitney finished her coffee and placed her cup and saucer on the tray. ‘We need the list of employees as soon as possible.’
‘Leave it with me. Despite what you might think, we do want to help. These killings have impacted greatly on our bottom line, as fewer people are taking the train.’
Whitney stared open-mouthed at her lack of sensitivity. ‘Not to mention, lives of innocent people have been lost,’ she said, turning to leave without a backwards glance.
Chapter Thirteen
Thursday, 12 June
After stopping for a late lunch on the way back from Transwide, they went to the incident room to check on progress. They’d no sooner dropped their bags in Whitney’s office and gone back to speak to the team, when the door to the incident room opened, and Jamieson walked in, closely followed by two men she didn’t recognise. Whitney’s stomach plummeted. The expensive suits could only mean one thing: the RF.
