Up Close and Personal

by Alan Fisher

  “Seems so” said Debbie as she climbed off the desk. “We’re waiting for forensics and the autopsy, but it looks like a single stab would with a large knife incapacitated him but didn’t kill him instantly. He was rolled up in the rug and left to die in the bin. Pretty gruesome really”.

  “Any early thoughts from the DCI on who or why?”

  “Not as far as we’re aware, but he doesn’t tend to share those kind of thoughts with us” said Robbie.

  “Nor me either apparently” sighed Oliver.

  Robbie and Debbie looked at each other again.

  “What?” said Oliver noticing the look.

  “Paul says it’s the new DS. He heard the DCI has given him total control over assignments for the time being. He probably doesn’t know how much involvement you’ve had with the DCI on murder cases. I’m sure you’ll be called onto the case shortly” said Robbie.

  “Unlikely I think” said Oliver, “if that was going to happen the DCI would have called me to make sure I was here for the briefing. No, it looks like I’m sitting this one out”.

  “You forgot to mention the playing card Robbie” said Debbie.

  “What playing card?” asked Oliver

  “Sorry, I forgot about that” said Robbie. “They found a playing card rolled up and stuffed into the victim’s mouth. The Jack of Diamonds as far as I remember. I’m sure there’ll be pictures on the incident board, do you know what it might mean? Is it important?”.

  “I’m sure it’ll be important but I’ve no idea what it might mean. But anyway, I’m not on the case and I’ve got this mugging case report to finish before I go home. Thanks for the update guys, I appreciate it”.

  Debbie and Robbie returned to their desks as Oliver started to type again. Debbie glanced across the room at him as she sat down at her own desk, knowing exactly what would happen next.

  “Not on the case Oliver, yeah right. You’ll be up half the night working out possible meanings for the leaving of a Jack of Diamonds in the victims mouth. I know it, you know it, and so does Jack Collier”.

  Chapter 9

  Jack Collier and Jason Glover sped out of the Ponteland Police headquarters heading for Wynyard Estate in Durham, one of the most expensive housing areas in the North East of England and home to businessmen, footballers and a handful of celebrities.

  “Visited Wynyard Estate before sir?” asked Jason as Jack turned the car onto the A1 motorway heading south.

  “I haven’t. Not a lot of crime down that neck of the woods Jason, unless you count having shedloads of money a crime”.

  “Some would, especially around here sir”.

  “True, but it won’t colour our judgement will it? Not today anyway”.

  “No sir”.

  “Right then, it’ll be a while before we get there, so what do you reckon to this morning?” asked Jack.

  “I’m sorry sir, what do you mean?” said a slightly puzzled Jason.

  “First thoughts Jason, theories, where do we start, what do we focus on. Time to kick around a few ideas. It’s the best use of driving time, so, what do you reckon?”

  “Erm, well” hesitated Jason. “Obviously the victim was a fairly prominent politician so we could be looking for enemies within that field. Could be domestic, but the manner of his death and the dumping of the body suggest otherwise, we’ll need to look much more into his background sir before we can decide where to focus”.

  Jack glanced across at Jason, hiding the disappointment he was feeling. Any one of his DC’s could have come up with such a vague analysis. He regretted allowing Jason to control the assignments and send Oliver off on a mugging case. Oliver was young and impulsive, but he would have much more to say about the possibilities here. True, some of them might be far reached but Oliver saw the little details and helped to confirm or clarify Jack’s thoughts. He was also able to think outside the box, imagine the unlikely and even the impossible, something Jason clearly lacked. Perhaps he would have to fly solo on this one, although he knew, even without being asked, Oliver would be thinking about the case already.

  “And the playing card in the victim’s mouth?” he asked.

  “I’ve no idea sir”.

  Jack expected as much and said nothing more until they turned through the gates onto the drive of the grounds leading to the extremely large Georgian-styled detached house on Wynyard Estate.

  “Right, I’ll do the talking, you just take whatever notes you think appropriate” said Jack as he climbed out of the car.

  The pair walked across the gravel drive and rang the doorbell. Jack slipped off his cloth cap and took out his warrant card whilst he waited. A few seconds later a well-dressed woman with black hair and tearful eyes answered the door.

  “Mrs McMillan?” asked Jack.

  “Her sister, Jane”.

  “DCI Jack Collier and DS Jason Glover, we are expected I understand”.

  “Of course. Please come through Chief Inspector, my sister is waiting for you in the main lounge”.

  Jane led them through a vast open hallway and along a corridor to the left that led to the main lounge. Jack noticed the portraits on the wall of the corridor and wondered if they were original and expensive. They looked it, not that it made any difference at this stage. But it bugged him that Oliver would probably know, whereas Jason most certainly wouldn’t.

  The main lounge was in semi darkness, the curtains being half closed to the bright sunlight outside.

  Jessica McMillan was sat on the edge of the nearest sofa of four within the room, a room that was bigger than Jack’s quayside apartment; she immediately stood when her sister entered the room followed by Jack and Jason.

  “Even in the midst of grief, certain standards have to be maintained” thought Jack as he crossed the room.

  “DCI Collier and DS Glover from the police, Jessica. I’ll arrange for some tea and coffee to be brought through, shall I?” said Jane.

  Jessica McMillan nodded to her sister and turned to face the two officers.

  “Gentlemen, please be seated” she said, pointing to the sofa opposite the one where she had been sat.

  It was an instruction rather than a request thought Jack, and he doubted very much if Jane would be making any tea or coffee herself. The thought was swiftly confirmed when a minute later, Jane returned to the lounge and sat beside her sister.

  “Now gentlemen” said Jessica, “how may I help you”.

  “Our condolences first of all Mrs McMillan” said Jack, “we’re sorry for your loss”.

  Despite his best efforts, and years of practice, the words lacked any depth of genuine sympathy. Jack knew it before the words had left his lips, but he was not surprised that Jessica McMillan ignored it.

  “Thank you” she replied flatly.

  “We appreciate how difficult this is for you so we’ll try to keep this visit as short as we can. We have just a few questions, if that’s ok”.

  “Of course” said Jessica, “what do you need to know?”

  Jack noticed the choice of words and knew it would have been deliberate rather than accidental, he wondered if the notion would have passed Jason by. “What do I need to know, not what do I want to know” he thought, “she will control if anything is needed or not”.

  “Could you give me just a little background, how long you’ve been married and lived here for example?” said Jack gently.

  The vagueness of the question had been intended just to get Jessica McMillan talking without feeling under any further duress and it seemed to work.

  “I met Andrew when we were both at Oxford University back in the late 80’s. He was studying politics and had a drive and passion that was going to take him a long way. I was reading history, but our paths crossed occasionally, and we got together during our second year. When we graduated, we went our separate ways for a while. Andrew moved up to Durham and I went to America for a while. It was a few years later when I met him at a fund raising event and everything just clicked. I moved in with hi
m within six months in his apartment in Durham City. We were married a couple of years later and have 2 daughters, both at University right now and both heading home as we speak. Andrew naturally went into politics. He joined the Conservative party becoming a Councillor in Durham within five years and then parliamentary candidate for Tynemouth, I’m sure you know all this already Chief Inspector. I did some teaching in Tynemouth for a while before working for Andrew on his political career, after the girls started school. We moved in here about ten years ago”.

  “Thank you Mrs McMillan” said Jack as a young girl of around seventeen arrived carrying a tray of tea and coffee cups. “And would you say your husband was a popular figure?”

  “You mean did he have any enemies” said Jessica sternly after the girl had left the room.

  “If you like”.

  “Chief Inspector, my husband worked in politics. Just about everyone is classified as an enemy, even those who are supposedly on the same side”.

  “How do you mean, on the same side?”

  “You’ve seen the state of politics at the moment, surely. It used to be so clear, the Government ran the country, the opposition opposed every policy and every decision, even if they agreed with some of them. In public, everyone argued a lot and called each other all sorts of things, but in private they all had a drink with each other and shared a joke or two. Now, everyone just seems to oppose everything, violently in some cases”.

  “Violently? There were incidents or threats?” asked Jack.

  “No, nothing like that. Verbal violence if you like. The arguments have become more and more bitter and divided over the last couple of years, mostly because of Brexit and the divisions of numbers both in parliament and constituencies. There’s so much to play for, things are really tense everywhere. But no threats, no, at least none that I’m aware of”.

  “Are there any names you can give me where tensions have become particularly animated, for want of a better phrase?”

  “Only the current MP, Tom Campbell. He’s been the Labour candidate and MP for the last two elections, but the count has always been close. The polls were suggesting that Andrew had a strong chance of winning next time. They often crossed swords but no more than you would expect. Yes it was heated, and Tom Campbell can be a complete bastard, but murder? I can’t believe that” said Jessica as she reached for a cup that Jane had poured for her.

  She took a sip of tea and dabbed her eyes with a fresh tissue from the box next to her on the sofa.

  “What about past enemies, perhaps from business dealings or perhaps work with the local Council?” said Jack, picking up his cup of coffee.

  “None that I’m aware of. Oh I’m sure I wasn’t aware of everything that went on, that wouldn’t be unusual in any marriage, and he’d been a Councillor for a couple of years before I returned from America. But if there had been anything serious, anything dangerous, I’m sure Andrew would have told me”.

  “When was your husband last in contact with you Mrs McMillan, I’d like to build up a timeline of his movements yesterday if possible”.

  “I last saw him at breakfast yesterday morning. He left for the office a little after 9.

  “On a Sunday? Was that usual?”

  “It wasn’t unusual. He’d sometimes go in on a Sunday to catch up with paperwork and read through any party changes. It was important that he kept up to speed with any policy changes because things are so fluid at the moment”.

  “Was it usual for him to spend all day at work?”

  “Politics is a 24/7 occupation I’m afraid and meetings can sometimes be at unusual times. I know he had a couple of meetings planned for the day and he rang me around 6 o’clock to say that he had an evening meeting which was likely to go on for a while and not to wait up for him. That was the last time I spoke to him”.

  “So meetings being at unusual times could include late at night?”

  “Sometimes, it did happen from time to time and much more lately as his position has improved in the polls. He really felt that he would win the next election and was putting everything into making that happen”.

  “Did he mention who he was meeting so late last night?”

  “He didn’t and I didn’t ask. He used to meet all sorts of people who he thought could improve his chances. He once told me that it was best I didn’t know; politics can be a nasty business sometimes you know”.

  “I know. We didn’t find your husband’s car at the scene, have you any idea where it might be Mrs McMillan?”

  “I haven’t. It’ll depend on how he got to his meeting last night. If it was local he might have walked. Or it’s possible someone might have sent a car for him. In either of those cases I guess his car will be where he parked it at work, Tim his PA will be able to help with that. If he drove to his meeting, I assume it will still be there where he left it, and if that’s the case, I assume that you’ll be closer to finding out who killed him”.

  “Indeed”.

  She reached for another tissue and Jack could see it was becoming difficult for her He decided that it was enough for today.

  “Well thank you for seeing us Mrs McMillan. We will explore every avenue to try and find out who was responsible for your husband’s death, I can at least promise you that. We’ll keep in touch and let you know what progress we make”.

  “Thank you Chief Inspector, I appreciate it”.

  “I’ll show you out” said Jane, rising from the sofa.

  Jason quickly swallowed the last of his coffee and stuffed his notepad into his pocket before following Jack out of the lounge and into the corridor. Jane led them through into the hall and opened the door to let the two officers out into the drive.

  “Talk to his party colleagues at the local Conservative offices Chief Inspector, I’m not so confident that Andrew would say anything if there were threats being made. And I wouldn’t put anything past that scumbag Campbell either” said Jane with a slight hiss.

  “Thank you, I intend to do exactly that” said Jack as he pulled on his cloth cap. “We’ll be in touch”.

  Chapter 10

  Oliver had finished his report and placed it upon DS Davis’s desk, currently being used by Jason Glover. He’d completed a full and comprehensive report but felt uncomfortable about the prospect of not being able to do anything more. There wasn’t really much to go on and after the conversation he’d had with Robbie and Debbie earlier, he thought it more likely that DS Glover would simply file it.

  With both Jack and DS Glover out of the office, and his report complete, Oliver had some time on his hands and no desire for an early finish. He wandered across to the incident board and started to look at the photographs and read the notes that DS Glover had pinned on the board.

  Debbie Swan was standing by Robbie’s desk when Oliver’s movement caught her eye. She nudged Robbie and whispered in his ear;

  “What odds would you have given for Oliver to take less than an hour before he took a look at the incident board?”

  “I wouldn’t have given any odds. There are few things certain in this life Debbie, but one thing that is certain, is Oliver cannot ignore a puzzle. At least not for very long anyway”.

  She smiled as she went back to her desk.

  There were many concerns on Oliver’s mind as he drove home later that evening. Even from just examining the photographs and reading the sparse details of the crime scene, he’d drawn up a list of questions that needed answering. Perhaps Jack and the temporary DS Glover had all of these questions in hand, it would be extremely arrogant of him to assume that only he could see the implications. Surely Jack would have seen them. He wondered if he should seek Jack out in the morning and give him his views. But would they be appreciated? Would Jack understand his interest. Had Jack kept him off the case for a reason? Was it, in fact, Jack who was keeping him away from the case? Was it any of his business anyway? Was Jack testing him to see if he could take orders and be a team player? Or would he expect that if he had anything to contrib
ute he would speak up. Had Jack noticed the blood stains on the rug? Had he picked up on the location, noticed the ring on the victims right hand? Had he developed any thoughts about why a Jack of Diamonds had been left in the victim’s mouth?

  He was unsure about what to do, and the feeling wasn’t welcome.

  He decided to do nothing for the time being, at least nothing regarding putting forward any ideas to Jack or his DS. He wasn’t involved in the case and to put his nose in where it wasn’t wanted wasn’t going to do anyone any favours, especially him. He did decide, however, that he should at least look at the case from a distance, just in case he was asked or called in to assist.

  Subsequently, he spent the whole of the evening on his laptop looking at possible implications of the Jack of Diamonds being left in the victim’s mouth.

  By 11pm he’d come up with a number of possibilities, ranging from the obvious to the ridiculous. Scribbling them down in his notebook he had to admit to himself that he wouldn’t put money on any of them being right, he needed more information to narrow the field down and it was that thought that worried him most of all.

  The obvious possibility would be a fairly easy case to follow through. But his limited experience had taught him that nothing was ever simple, and the ridiculous possibilities started pushing themselves to the front of his thinking. The notion worried him. Because the ridiculous possibilities suggested that Andrew McMillan may not be the last victim.

  He told himself not to be too concerned. Jack and DS Glover would be fully aware of all of this. It was their worry not his.

  If he was asked, he had a contribution ready, even if it simply confirmed what his senior officers were already thinking.

  If he wasn’t asked, then he would probably have other tasks to get on with, perhaps even something that might play a small part in the investigation.

  He went to bed and, for a welcome change, slept well.

  Chapter 11