by Lisa Cutts
‘You okay?’ said Harry. ‘You’ve gone a bit red.’
‘It’s still not the menopause.’
It was Harry’s turn to redden.
‘The thing is,’ Sophia said, ‘money’s been a little tight lately, that’s why I like to do overtime whenever I can. Things are massively looking up for me with some investments I’ve got put aside. It’ll be much better in a few months or so. Thanks for being so concerned. It’s why people like working for you.’
She moved in her chair, unsure whether that was the right thing to say.
She watched Harry as he rubbed a hand over his face, fingertips scratching at his stubble. ‘Everyone’s leaving since Pierre died.’
‘It was a terrible shock,’ she said. ‘The only person to blame is the person who killed him. No one else.’
‘That’s another thing,’ Harry said. ‘If it isn’t bad enough he died, they won’t pay Frank the police life assurance.’
‘Why the hell not?’
‘Pierre hadn’t made Frank the beneficiary, and Pierre’s mother, who currently is, has dementia.’
‘Seriously?’ said Sophia, voice almost a shout. ‘And what about Pierre’s pension? Shouldn’t Frank get that too?’
She watched Harry give a slow, sad shake of his head. ‘They weren’t married. Frank gets nothing.’
Momentarily stunned, Sophia forgot her own financial troubles.
‘Sometimes,’ she said, ‘this job boils my piss. I’ve got a pension that’s worth fuck-all now. I’ve got to work an extra twelve years at least and still won’t get as much as I should’ve got. Makes you wonder why you bother.’
‘Because we want to do the right thing,’ said Harry. ‘Talking of doing the right thing, want to work on murders again? We need some more staff on the Jenny Bloomfield job if you’re interested. That’s really what I called you in for. As you saw, the CCTV I got from the jeweller’s needed enhancing and some ANPR work carried out, but we’re hoping to have that back any minute. Might be some arrests.’
For a moment, Sophia was torn: she very much wanted to get back to the incident room, yet she’d heard a whisper of a working rest day if she stayed with Fraud, and that meant money.
‘I think they’ve got plans for us today, sir,’ she said. ‘Perhaps I’ll catch up with you on Monday if the offer’s still there?’
‘Well, you know where I am if you need me,’ said Harry.
Taking her cue, Sophia got up and made her way back to her desk. As she got within a couple of feet, she heard the bleep of a text message.
Hi love, don’t want to hassle you but any chance of that money? Love mum x
With a sigh, she stared at the year planner on the wall, counting the days until payday.
*
Harry needed to get some fresh air. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and left the office by the back staircase.
A walk along The Leas usually did the trick, especially on a warm, bright morning.
As Harry turned out of the police station towards the cliff-top promenade, he spotted a figure about thirty yards in front of him. If he wasn’t mistaken, Dane Hoopman was walking towards him, and even at the distance he was, Harry could hear him shouting into his phone.
Seconds later, the distance between them somewhat smaller, Dane looked up and saw Harry. His face was a mixture of surprise and annoyance as it dawned on him that his detective inspector had heard him hollering and swearing at whoever was on the other end of the line.
Harry stopped walking, forcing Dane to do the same.
With what seemed to be reluctance, Dane ended the call.
‘Family,’ said Dane with a frown. ‘What you going to do with them?’
‘They can be tricky,’ said Harry. ‘Anything I can do?’
‘No, cheers, it’s sorted, but thanks.’
With a nod, Dane stepped around him and carried on walking back towards the police station.
For a second, Harry remained where he was, his only movement putting a hand up to scratch at his stubble.
Harry’s first conversation with Dane Hoopman sprang to mind, the one where he told him that he had no family of any kind.
He wondered how many other lies he’d told them.
Chapter 40
Afternoon of Friday 8 May
Not long after Sophia and Dane left the incident room, Tom Delayhoyde’s overexcited face appeared at Harry’s office door.
‘All right, Tom,’ said Harry.
‘Guv, come and see this,’ he said, almost hopping from one foot to the other. ‘We’ve got the enhanced CCTV back from Digital Forensics.’
‘Blimey, that was fast work,’ said Harry, as he pushed his chair out to follow Tom to the incident room.
A small, eager crowd had gathered around Tom’s desk, all waiting to see the footage, willing the DI to get a move on so they could get a much-needed morale boost, finally feeling like they were making progress.
‘Right,’ said Tom, back in his seat, playing to the crowd. ‘As you know, the footage showed Jenny Bloomfield standing in the doorway of the jeweller’s, before moving out towards the road as a car came along. It was all a bit grainy from there on, but it’s a lot clearer now.’
Tom relished the moment, everyone hanging on his every word. ‘Well, we could tell it was Jenny: the dates matched, we knew that Pierre would have had a good reason for asking for the footage, and we’re all familiar with what she looks like. But, what Digital Forensics have been working on is getting a clearer picture of the car and driver, which, thankfully, has now been enhanced.’
He paused again, total silence in the room as he pointed to the top right of the screen. ‘This is where the vehicle approaches from. Now watch.’
With a flourish, he pressed play and sat back.
A few seconds later, Harry stood open-mouthed, staring at the computer screen as he watched footage of the late Jenny Bloomfield huddled in the doorway of the jewellery shop as a car approached her, snaking its way along the street.
The car, which they could now see was a Range Rover, pulled to a stop and the driver’s window opened, bringing a man’s face into view. His identity was partially obscured by the shadows, but Jenny stepped out of the doorway to speak to him, before jumping in beside him.
The team knew they were probably looking at the last person to see Jenny Bloomfield alive, and most likely her killer.
Chapter 41
‘I’ve never seen so much jewellery,’ said Sophia, as she stood next to Dane in the middle of a conference room on the first floor of police headquarters. It was a large room with huge sash windows on one side and wood panelling on the other three.
An exhausted-looking sergeant from the previous night’s search paused with his hand on the door handle. ‘Right, then. I’ll leave this lot to you. Now we’ve gone through the handover – the cash, the gold, the credit cards – they’re all yours to log and find the owners. Good luck. I’m off to bed.’
Sophia and Dane looked at one another.
‘There has to be over two hundred grand’s worth here,’ said Sophia, eyes struggling to take it all in.
‘Bit more, I expect,’ said Dane as he walked over to the nearest table and picked up one of the exhibit bags. ‘This looks like a diamond solitaire ring. The stone’s fucking huge.’
He sat on the edge of the conference room table, held the bag and its contents up to the light and said, ‘Would anyone even notice if we took one?’
‘No, shouldn’t think so,’ said Sophia, ‘apart from the lads who brought it all in and made us sign for it, the evidence gatherer who videoed the warrant the entire time and the Fraud DS who’s already told us how many bags of exhibits there are. Other than that, we should get away with it nicely.’
‘Makes you think though, doesn’t it?’ said Dane.
Sophia’s head turned in his direction. ‘Makes you think what?’
‘How easy it would be to take a few of these bags, set yourself up for life.’
Dane was still holding the ring up to the light, a look of concentration on his face.
‘Apart from the getting caught and going to prison bit,’ Sophia said as she took a seat and began to rifle through her paperwork. ‘We’ve got a lot to do here so we really should get on.’
A minute or two later, Sophia glanced up from her notes and ran an appreciative eye over the packets of cash, the illegally gained watches, rings and bracelets.
For a second – only a second – she thought how much easier her life would be without her ex-boyfriend’s loan to pay off, without worrying about taking care of her mum and without having to chase overtime.
Sophia tried to shrug the feeling off, but it was already there. If ever temptation was being put right within her grasp, this was surely it.
Her sweep of the room saw Dane casually throwing packets of cash and jewellery from the pile on his right to the growing pile on his left.
After watching him for several seconds, she took a deep breath and then said, ‘Dane, I need to ask you something.’
He looked up, exhibit bag of bank notes in his hand. ‘What?’
‘How well did you know Linda Bowman?’
‘Linda who?’ he said, face impassive.
‘Linda Bowman?’ said Sophia. ‘The woman I told you about; the one who was murdered. She was a friend of Harry’s.’
‘Oh, that Linda,’ he said, one hand smoothing out the side of the bag so he could read the reference number on it, other hand busy scribbling down the number. ‘Didn’t know her at all. Why do you ask?’
Sophia paused before she answered. She had known all along that no matter what the answer, she wouldn’t have liked it.
‘I found a picture online. You were in it, along with Linda and her husband.’
He shrugged. ‘So what? You said he was a copper. Where was this picture taken?’
‘I don’t know.’
He shook his head and carried on sifting through the piles of contraband. ‘Then how am I supposed to know how I ended up in a photo with them?’
‘It looked like a charity event,’ she said, biting her lip and turning her attention back to her own work.
‘Am I supposed to have done something wrong because I once went to a charity event at an unspecified date and location, and had someone, who I also don’t know, take a photo of me?’
‘Sorry. Forget I mentioned it.’
He got up and walked over to her, perching on the edge of the table.
‘Did you stumble across this photo or were you trying to find out more about me?’ he said, peering down at her.
Defensively, she crossed her arms and pushed her chair back. ‘As it happens, I did look you up,’ she said.
This was met with a raised eyebrow and the beginning of a smirk.
‘Go on, Soph. I’m fascinated.’
‘Well,’ she said, biding her time, ‘I’ve had a couple of text messages about you.’
He leaned back as if she was a physical threat to him.
‘Me? Who from?’
‘Hannah.’
For one second, he sat perfectly still, and then he laughed.
‘What’s so funny?’ Sophia said when his merriment was getting on her nerves.
‘What’s the spiteful, delusional bitch been saying about me now?’
Sophia paused. She wanted an explanation from him, but as she hadn’t responded to any of Hannah’s messages, she didn’t actually know what it was she wanted to tell her, meaning that she had no information to question Dane about.
‘Tell you what,’ Dane said as he stood up and walked back over to his seat, ‘please be careful if you ever happen to bump into her. She’s volatile. She had a few mental health problems, and I wouldn’t put it past her to be dangerous.’
‘Why would she text me out of the blue about you?’
‘Aren’t you listening? She’s dangerous, Soph, and she can’t be trusted. She got kicked out of the job for her behaviour. Now, that wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been up to no good. Take it from me, leave well alone.’
Sophia couldn’t be sure, but in that moment she thought Dane looked more worried than angry.
Perhaps she would meet with Hannah after all.
Chapter 42
‘Say that again,’ said Harry, struggling to stop his mouth from hanging open at Tom Delayhoyde’s revelation.
‘It’s all to do with the cutbacks, boss,’ said Tom, several other members of the team nodding in agreement.
Someone muttered, ‘Fucking disgrace,’ although no one looked as horrified as Harry.
‘So, let me get this right,’ said Harry, frown so deep on his forehead he could have hidden a biro in it. ‘The council have got fuck-all money, and as well as taking out most of the cameras in the town, there are also no operators to view anything that goes on. How did I miss this?’
A few of them looked away and some even stepped back to return to their own seats.
‘Oh,’ he said, the penny dropping. ‘This was one of the many changes after Pierre died.’
‘I think you were on leave when it was announced,’ said Tom. ‘Lots of stuff changed in a small space of time. They announced it, kept it quiet and didn’t want to let the public know too much about the possible dangers or cost-cutting.’
Harry accepted the DC’s lifeline.
‘So how do we view it?’ said Harry.
‘I can access it from here,’ said Tom, pointing at the screen. ‘I’ve got access and can match it to ANPR too, so if this Range Rover was to enter the town again, not only can I search for it, I can try to track it on CCTV.’
‘Only a total fuckwit would drive round the same town with the same number plates still on it,’ said Harry.
‘Fortunately, there are enough fuckwits around to keep us gainfully employed, sir,’ said Tom, as he turned his attention back to the computer screen.
He began punching numbers into the keyboard and switched between the ANPR, live CCTV in the town centre and an enhanced view of the Range Rover as Jenny Bloomfield climbed inside.
Harry watched Tom as he punched the registration number into the ANPR, unsurprised when no matches over the last three months appeared.
‘Look at this,’ said Harry, leaning forward to get a better view. ‘Is that something on the front of the dashboard? It looks like a parking permit of some kind.’
Tom’s fingers hit the keyboard at a rapid rate, enlarging the section of the screen Harry was pointing at.
‘That’s a parking permit for guests staying at The Grand,’ said a voice in Harry’s ear, making him jump.
‘Bloody hell, Sandra,’ he said. ‘Didn’t hear you creep in behind me. And I didn’t know you stayed at The Grand.’
She peered across Harry’s shoulder and said, ‘Yep, I’d recognize it anywhere. I do have a life outside of this job, you know.’
Harry stood up from where he’d been perched on the edge of the desk. ‘Okay, what I need is someone to get over to The Grand. Speak to the manager there. Get a list of every guest staying there over Wednesday the twenty-ninth of November, going back as far as the twenty-third just to make sure, and up to the first of December. I particularly want to know their vehicles and registrations and anything else we can find out about them. I want their CCTV if it goes back that far. The image of this bastard’s face isn’t entirely clear, but it’s good enough to match him when we find him. Tom, you carry on with the ANPR and town centre CCTV. Have a word with Sandra if you need anyone to help you with it. We’ve got a murderer to find.’
Chapter 43
Evening of Friday 8 May
Sophia wanted a chance to speak to Dane before their night out. Her attempts to find the right words continually failed her, and their exchange about Hannah hadn’t gone quite as well as she’d hoped. She was still having reservations about him, not helped by the fact that he seemed oddly focused on what they were doing. Although their brief was to painstakingly log and catalogue every item, Dane appea
red to be doing so as if his very life depended on it.
At one stage, from her seat at the far end of the conference room table, she glanced over and saw he had his mobile phone in his hand, jewellery laid out before him.
He was holding his phone in his left hand, an evidence bag in the other.
‘You look like you’re about to photograph that,’ she called out.
Annoyance flitted across his face before he lowered the phone and said, ‘Course not. That’s already been done by uniform.’
Then he smiled and pushed his chair out, walked towards her and said, ‘I’m going to nip out and get us some food. Want anything?’
‘Yes, please. I don’t mind what. I could do with a break myself, but I suppose we can’t leave this here.’
‘Not really,’ said Dane as he picked up his keys and wallet from the table. ‘You’ll be all right here? I don’t think there’s anyone else left in this part of the building. So much for security.’
‘Makes you think, doesn’t it?’ she said, standing up to stretch her legs and yawning.
Dane stopped on his way to the door. ‘Makes you think what?’
‘How vulnerable all this is. Jewellery, cash and cards just left here like this with us.’
‘We’re hardly going to take it, are we?’ said Dane, hand now on the door handle. ‘Or will I need to search you when I come back?’
‘I’ve never taken a penny that didn’t belong to me,’ said Sophia, ‘and I don’t intend to start now.’
‘Honesty is a virtue only the rich can afford.’
‘That’s very profound,’ said Sophia, fingers massaging her neck. ‘Besides, lots of rich people are crooks.’
‘True, but where did being honest and playing by the rules ever get you, Soph? Here we are on a Friday night working until who knows when and you’re considering working tomorrow too. After tax, what are you going to get in your pocket for two fourteen-hour shifts? A couple of hundred quid if you’re lucky.’
