by L M Krier
‘The owner of the building lives and works in Brussels, boss,’ Mike Hallam told him. ‘I’ve tried calling the only number I could find for him but there was no reply. I left a message. The building is for sale but I don’t yet know which agent it’s with. There was no board up. I’m ringing round a few likely ones to see what I can find out.’
‘Arson for the insurance, then?’ Rob O’Connell suggested. ‘Hardly prime property, unless it could be developed, so maybe get someone to burn it down and take the insurance money? That might have netted the owner more than selling it would.’
‘He probably wouldn’t get much of a payout if the building was left insecure,’ Jo pointed out. ‘It was lucky it wasn’t being squatted or we could have had a fatality on our hands.’
‘And what’s the latest from the scene? Any update from there?’ Ted asked.
‘Fire Service are just finishing off then we have full run of the place to let Forensics loose. The cigarette end has gone off for DNA testing. With a bit of luck and a following breeze, it’s someone with form so it will be an easy one to wrap up.’
‘And can we get some more detailed info on the man who’s inside for the fatal arson, please. William Warren. The one who used the same MO as our arsonist. We need to start looking into that case. As you know, I don’t like coincidences and this is too much of one on the surface. Steve, can you chase up the original files on it, please? I’d like to take a look at them. Just in case there was a miscarriage of justice and we have to reopen the whole thing.
‘Right, I’m just off to see if we can get a few more officers, with two cases to run. Don’t hold your breath, but I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Boss, this sounds a bit gruesome, but it’s not meant to be. Going back to what the sarge said after the first body part was found. Are we assuming that the owner of these limbs is definitely dead? I mean, could it be some hideous torture thing going on? Removing someone’s limbs without actually killing them?’
Ted was quiet for a moment, mentally kicking himself. ‘You’re absolutely right, Jezza, I should have checked that with Professor Nelson. I made an assumption. Something I’m always telling all of you not to do. Jo, please can you phone the Professor’s department to check, with my apologies for not having done so at the outset.
‘I rather thought – and now I sincerely hope – that such injuries inflicted on someone whilst they were still alive would cause catastrophic blood loss. Not to mention shock. Possibly resulting in fairly rapid death. But please check it out. I suppose it’s just possible that the missing fingers were removed prior to death, for instance. No fingerprints, of course, but let’s hope the DNA is on record somewhere, although we’ve no results back on that, yet.’
‘Bloody hell, though,’ Maurice put in. ‘If it is something like that, what the hell are we looking at here? Some sort of gangland killing? It’s more like the Kray Twins than anything I can remember happening in Stockport in my time here.’
‘Trying to keep it realistic, then, Ted, how many more officers do you need?’ Detective Superintendent Jim Baker asked.
He, Superintendent Caldwell, Ted and Kevin Turner were packed into the Ice Queen’s office. It wasn’t a particularly small room but Big Jim’s bulk always made it look that way.
‘A replacement for Maurice while he’s on leave plus two extra officers,’ Ted said promptly.
‘Meanwhile, on the planet Earth,’ Jim replied, pausing for a drink of his coffee. ‘You can have a temporary replacement for Maurice, as you can’t afford to be an officer down with potentially two big cases. As for any more, you know it’s a numbers game. I’ll shuffle around what I can from the officers at my disposal but it might have to be on an as and when basis. So don’t get too attached to any of the reinforcements. You might have to give them back at any moment.’
‘Before you ask, Kevin,’ Debra Caldwell cut in, ‘the same goes for Uniform.’
For once, even she was being informal in a small meeting. Ted suspected she was keeping it that way to soften the blow of having to warn Kev he might not get the extra officers he needed.
‘There’s going to need to be an awful lot of legwork on both cases, unless we get anything more solid to go on. And that’s not meant to be a joke in poor taste. I’ve already got all the officers I can spare going door-to-door on both the arson and the potential murder. But I’m forever having to pull people off that to redeploy them elsewhere.’
‘All right, everyone,’ Jim cut in, ‘to save us all a lot of time, let me just state once again, for the record. We all know that. We probably all heard about the recent case where officers had to be sent from more than a hundred miles away to assist another force with an arrest. So, Ted, Kevin, one more time. If Debs and I can find any more, you can have them. If not, you’ll just have to do the other thing.’
Ted was saved from replying by his mobile vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out to look at the screen then said, ‘It’s the ACC.’
‘You’d better take it, then,’ Jim told him then added, his tone dripping in sarcasm, ‘perhaps it’s news of additional officers.’
‘Sir.’
‘We could do without your little friend in Gibraltar right now, Ted. I take it you’ve not been checking on his page?’
‘He did phone last night, trying to speak to me. I simply referred him to the Press Office.’
‘Did you log the call? Not that it would have made much difference, I don’t suppose. Are you in front of your computer?’
‘I’m in Superintendent Caldwell’s office, sir.’
‘Well, put this call on speaker phone, it’s important. Debs, can you go to this Mind the Money site, please. Ted, whoever this Mercado bloke is and whatever he has against you, he’s not letting go.’
The Ice Queen’s fingers moved quickly over the keyboard, then she turned the screen so they could all see it. Ted put his phone on the desk and looked at the website, his heart sinking.
It was better footage than a mobile phone would capture. The video had clearly been shot with a decent camera, on a powerful zoom. It showed Ted, in his shorts, on the beach in Spain. Dancing with Trev. Going through their Moondance routine, as Trev had wanted to practise it again before they did it in public at the Christmas drinks do.
The accompanying article was predictable scandal sheet stuff: ‘British police complain of manpower shortages and insufficient funds for proper policing. But one Detective Chief Inspector from Greater Manchester spent a recent Monday morning dancing on the golden sands of a Spanish holiday resort with his husband. According to information received by this reporter, the couple stayed in a hotel room paid for by the Metropolitan Police as part of a large ongoing operation into historical child abuse.’
It went on in the same vein for several paragraphs, ending with, ‘This reporter contacted DCI Darling for his explanation but he refused to make any comment.’
‘Are you sure you don’t know this bloke, Ted? Not someone you’ve nicked in the past? Or investigated? He certainly seems to have a personal axe to grind with you. I had hoped it would all blow over. But we’re clearly going to have to put out a short statement now to clear up a few inaccuracies in this rubbish. Let’s just hope the nationals over here don’t pick it up for any reason and run with it. You know how some of them like to trash the police at every opportunity. Setting aside the rights and wrongs, we all know how the mob turned their collective sights on that copper in Portugal and his long lunches. And look how that ended. So we need to be pro-active, I think.
‘Ted, presumably you took the weekend off, which you’re entitled to do, of course. What about the Monday, though?’
‘Booked as annual leave, sir. Retrospectively, it has to be said. I’m sorry about this, and I honestly have no idea who this man is. I’ve sent you through the credit card statements, first thing this morning.’
‘I’ve not had time to look yet. It’s manic here today. With a bit of luck, it will all blow over and be a five-minute wonder.
’
After the ACC ended his call, the meeting wound up. As Ted headed for the stairs, Jim Baker fell into step next to him, saying he needed a word with him. It sounded ominous.
As soon as they got to Ted’s office and Jim shut the door, he said, ‘Do you have any idea how bloody annoying you are, Ted?’
‘Not really, but I suspect you’re about to tell me. Is this still about the Spanish thing? Because I’m sorry it’s all blown up ...’
‘Only indirectly,’ Jim said as he lowered himself carefully onto the spare chair which creaked in protest. ‘But it is to do with that bloody video. Well, not that one. The one which went viral all over social media. I made the mistake of showing it to Bella. She loved it. Then, of course, she saw you and Trev do it live at your drinks do. So now she wants us to do a first dance when we get married. And speaking of the wedding, I hope you’ve remembered you agreed to be my best man.’
Ted started to speak again but Jim cut across him, ‘You’re doing it, whether you like it or not. But here’s the thing. You know I have two left feet. You know too that I broke my leg last time I tried to dance so ...’ He hesitated, then his words came out in a rush, all at once, ‘Could you teach me something easy I could dance with Bella? To make her happy. Seeing you’re so bloody good at it. And because I know I can count on you to keep your gob shut about it.’
‘Me? I’m a crap dancer. That was Trev, leading me while I just stumbled about trying to follow him. If you want to learn to dance, it’s him who needs to teach you. He’s very good.’
Jim looked aghast. ‘Trev? I can’t ask him. He’s ...’
‘A gay bloke? Newsflash, Jim. So am I. I promise you, you’d be quite safe. He’d tease you and muck about a bit but honestly, he’d love to do it, I’m sure. I’ll ask him, then we’ll fix a time for you to come over. And seriously, I’m sorry about the crap from this Mercado bloke.’
The mop was once again gliding across the width of the corridor and back.
Left to right. Circle.
Right to left. Circle.
This time, the man dabbed the mop precisely in the centre of each circle before continuing his progress.
As before, he kept up the same humming, the chorus of the same country song, over and over. He seemed totally absorbed in his work, barely noticing as the chaplain came bobbing down the corridor with his distinctive rise and fall gait.
‘Back at work already, William? I’m pleased to see you’re clearly so much better today. You gave me a bit of a scare last night. How are you feeling now?’
‘Back to normal now, thank you for asking, padre. The devil finds work for idle hands, so I was keen to get straight back to work.’
All the time he spoke, he continued his mopping, not raising his eyes from his cleaning.
‘I had to work hard to get the privileges I enjoy. In particular, that of being the chapel Red Band, which is very important to me. I appreciate our little chats as I work. Your words of comfort help me through the darkest days.’
He lifted his eyes as he said that and looked directly into those of the chaplain.
‘Those and the touch of your hand. Always there to guide me.’
Chapter Six
Trev had clearly been hovering, listening out for Ted arriving home. He was there in the hallway, waiting, as soon as the key turned in the lock.
‘Are you all right? I’ve been monitoring that Mercado’s site and I saw his latest attack.’
He smothered Ted in a hug as he went on, ‘I’m so sorry, Ted. I really am. I’d no idea it was going to turn out like this or I’d never have come to Spain. Is it going to be all right? Are you in trouble over it?’
Ted gently extricated himself from his partner’s arms.
‘It’s fine. It’ll all blow over. Don’t fuss. I wouldn’t say no to a quick shower and change before we eat, if there’s time?’
‘I can make time. Are you sure you’re all right? Are we all right? Are you angry with me?’
Ted took both his hands and smiled at him. ‘Seriously. We’re fine. Honestly. You weren’t to know. I have no idea who this bloke Mercado is or why he has it in for me. But the Press Office are sending him a short statement and that should hopefully be the end of it.’
‘It must be my fault, talking too much to the hotel staff. Telling them we were married. I should have been more discreet.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I won’t be long, I’ll just grab a shower.’
‘Shall I come and wash your back?’
‘No, honestly, it’s fine. I’ll only be a minute.’
He took the stairs two at a time, leaving a forlorn Trev standing in the hall watching him go.
Ted was true to his word and back down in record time, hair still damp and floppy. Trev was busy in the kitchen sorting the food. Adam immediately attempted to climb up Ted’s leg and had to be removed as gently as he’d done earlier with Trev’s embrace.
Trev made to speak again but Ted cut across him. He appreciated his partner’s concern but as far as he was concerned, there was nothing he could do about a press vendetta so he’d rather forget about it for now.
‘With everything that’s been going on, I completely forgot to tell you that Bizzie wants us to go to her handfasting. Whatever that is.’
‘Oh, how wonderfully pagan of her! I shouldn’t be surprised that Bizzie is doing something out of the ordinary.’
The food was ready. He put it on the table as he and Ted sat down.
‘It’s a commitment ceremony. Celtic in origin, I think. It used to be like a trial marriage. A couple were handfasted for a year to see if they were right for one another. At the end of the trial period, if they weren’t they could just separate and go their own ways or they could confirm their marriage. Nowadays they seem to be quite trendy as an alternative form of public commitment. I’ve never been to one. It will be a fabulous experience. And you probably won’t have to dress up.’
‘That’s good news. The less good news is that Jim is adamant he wants me for his best man. And you know that will be a church wedding, for Jim. He would have had Mickey Wheeler, of course, before everything that came out about him. But now he’s stuck with me as the next best thing. So that will mean dressing up like a dog’s dinner, no doubt. Not to mention all the church stuff.’
‘Ted, you know Jim thinks very highly of you. He would want you there anyway.’
‘And speaking of what Jim wants, he came to ask me if I could teach him how to dance, for the reception. Bella liked us doing our Moondance thing so she wants to do a first dance with Jim and he’s even worse than I am. So I said you’d help him. Is that all right?’
‘Of course it is. What fun! I’ll really enjoy that.’
‘Just, you know, don’t tease him too much. You know what he’s like. He’s already uneasy at the idea of getting up close and personal with a gay man. He tries his best but ...’
Trev let out a shout of laughter as he picked up his knife and fork.
‘Oh, bless him. I promise to behave impeccably. For me, anyway. But what larks, Pip.’
‘Right, this is my attempt at an artist’s impression. You have to remember I did drama, not art, at school. But I thought it would be helpful to start a ready reference of what body parts have come to light so far, and where they were found.’
At Jo’s request, Jezza was standing in front of the white board for the morning briefing, marker pen in hand. Rather than use the crime scene photos, she’d sketched drawings of the different limbs found to date. Lines went from each to the margins of the board with precise details of every location. Every part was numbered in the order in which they were found.
‘Number one was the severed leg, found in the river. Removed at the hip and with the foot attached, so we know it’s a right leg. Male. And that the toenails were painted with bright red varnish. No distinguishing features.
‘Next up, a forearm and hand, minus the fingers and thumb, found in bushes at the edge of a park. Here.’ She poin
ted at a map of their area with cross-references to the items found.
Watching her, Ted was impressed. Talking to her on the flight to Spain, he’d been disappointed, from her career point of view, that she was no longer interested in going for promotion. Those feelings were tempered by appreciating what an asset she was to his team.
‘Even without the digits it’s been possible to establish that it’s the right arm. Therefore from the same side as the leg, which may or may not be significant.
‘On to body part number three. The upper arm from the skip on the development site. Also from the right side and, according to pathology, a match for the forearm.
‘To even things up, Saturday’s offering, number four, was an upper leg, hip to knee, which is confirmed as from the left side of the body. And finally, floating in the Marple Canal, most of a left upper arm, minus the forearm and hand.
‘Now, putting my drama to good training, I’m going to segue to my glamorous assistant Maurice, with Misper findings. I thank you.’
She went back to her seat, clearly pleased with herself. The diagram was a good idea, especially related to the map. Ted was already having difficulty remembering what parts had been found
where.
Maurice stayed where he was to start presenting his findings.
‘Based on the likely age range of the victim – forty to fifty – that’s the age bracket Steve and I have been concentrating on. Like I said, it’s depressing how many there are. For now, we’ve narrowed it down to a few possibles and one very strong likely contender.’
Now he got to his feet and went over to the white board to pin up a Mispers poster.
‘This man. Name of Bartholomew Ignatius Byrne, poor sod. Born and bred in our area. Went to Catholic schools. Unsurprisingly, with names like that. Worked on the production line at the biscuit factory. Forty-three when he was last seen. Bit of a loner. No family. Lived in a one-bedroom council flat up Heaton Chapel way. Hasn’t been seen in several months. His work reported him missing when he stopped showing up for his shifts and there was no word from him. That was very out of character for him so they became concerned.
