‘That’s it? Do you mean you’re just letting him ... I don’t know how you put up with...’ Dylan heard Ralph chuntering as he walked down the corridor.
Jen turned to Ralph. ‘Sit down; here beside me,’ she said tapping the chair next to her. Jen’s dad sat beside her and she turned to face him. ‘Dylan,’ she said, ‘is hurting just as much as we are.’ She took his aged hand in hers. ‘You might think I should be screaming and shouting at him, but really? You know me better than that Dad. I have to accept that he is married to his job as well as to me and I do.’
‘But, I heard him telling another woman she was amazing. Your mother... she would never have put up with that.’
‘His “other woman” is the job dad. It’s not other women that take Dylan away from us. You can’t simply take time out whilst you’re heading a murder enquiry – the murderer will never be caught and what’s more others may end up dead.’
Ralph lowered his head.
‘I appreciate what you’re saying Dad, really I do. Don’t think I don’t have tantrums, sometimes, especially when I’m tired. But I know beyond doubt that Dylan loves me and Maisy, and I also know how difficult his job is. That is not going to change until he retires and I have to accept that. Anyway talking of other women, how’re things with you?’
***
‘Thank you God for Jen, Maisy, the doctors and Beryl!’ Dylan said, looking up to the bright blue sky. The cold breeze that hit him was welcomed. He was overtaken by a wave of emotion and it gave him a lump in his throat. He walked out of the hospital and towards the car park. For an instant he couldn’t remember where he had parked his car. Tears blurred his eyes. He stood, then it came to him and he turned left and headed directly up a pathway. The vehicles swam in front of his eyes. He had a strange feeling that the cars, the hospital, the people were nothing more than an illusion, dream figures. He touched his face, it felt wet. He was crying.
By the time he had reached the Sibden Valley his heart felt lighter. The grass appeared greener. He could see the children playing on the swings in Sibden Park, from the road. The boats were on the lake, dogs were running. What was life all about? He sat and stared at the traffic light that was at red. A moment later there was a blare of car horns that broke his reverie. Dylan waved his hand, an apology to the driver behind, and carried on.
Dylan’s mind was on ensuring that the Braithwaite murder had got off the ground and the post-mortem of Carl Braithwaite was arranged. But part of him also wanted to know everything about Briggs and to ensure he was well and truly locked up. The adrenalin might have kicked in but he also knew that only fools rushed in.
***
Dylan caught a glimpse of Vicky entering the incident room and waved her over.
‘You’re back?’ she said with a smile on her face. ‘How’s Maisy?’
‘She’s going to be okay,’ he said with a huge sigh of relief. Dylan’s shirt collar was opened his tie drawn down. He needed a shave.
‘Thank goodness. And Jen?’
‘She’s good. Come into my office will you? Shut the door behind you,’ he said sliding into his old leather chair behind his desk. He turned on his computer, input his password and pressed a few keys.
‘The Braithwaite incident room is up and running. DS Raj has taken charge. Andy, DC Wormald is working with her and the HOLMES team are up and running – staffing levels are getting there – it’s all good. We’ve got PC Michelle Mitchell as Family Liason Officer. I’m sure Raj will update you thoroughly, as soon as. The post-mortem is later today.’ Vicky fidgeted, she spoke quickly.
‘Yes, I’ll speak to Raj afterwards. So, you’re staying on Operation Walnut with Ned, DC Granger is exhibits and the incident team remain the same,’ he said without taking his eyes off the computer screen. Dylan’s face was grey and drawn but the hunger to catch up on developments on the enquiries was tangible.
Vicky nodded, ‘Yes.’
Dylan’s face was expressionless. She sat for a moment and watched him read the computer screen.
‘Good,’ he said turning to her.
‘What is?’
‘For a start we have an identification, off the DNA database, for the contents of our condom at the Davina Walsh murder scene. Beryl Knight from Forensic rang me at the hospital and has sent over details on email.’ He turned the screen to face her.
‘Really?’ she said her eyes wide. ‘Some pervert we know?’
Dylan raised an eyebrow.
‘Well, it must be for us to have a hit so quickly,’ said Vicky.
‘They call him Roger Briggs, he’s forty-two years old, his Criminal Records Number is 197/5366 and his PNC Nominal 562231. I want to know all about him. Every little bit of intel we have on him. And I want you to keep this under your hat for now.’
‘You’re joking aren’t you? You know what it’s like in an incident room, if they get wind of me checking a suspect out it’ll be around the station quicker than a dose of salts!’
‘I know and that’s why I want you to do this for me. If we can keep it close to our chests until we have more information... then we’ll spill the beans together.’
Vicky gave him a lop-sided smile.
‘Oh, and Vicky,’ he said as she put her hand on the door. She turned to face him.
‘Yeah.’
‘Thanks for keeping the plates spinning with Raj whilst I was at the hospital, I really appreciate it, you did good kid.’
Dylan thought he saw a slight blush to her cheeks. ‘Oh shucks, thanks boss. That means a lot. But let’s face it, it’s better the devil you know rather than working with a jerk of an SIO who doesn’t have as much service as I do,’ she said with a wink.
She turned to leave. Dylan shook his head. ‘And Sarg.’
‘Yes, boss.’
‘I think that bit of good news I’ve just shared with you is well worthy of a cup of coffee, don’t you?’
‘I should have known better than walking into your office without a brew shouldn’t I?’
‘Truth be known, I need the caffeine. I’ve got that PM to go to yet today.’
‘Yeah, well rather you than me,’ she said leaving the room. ‘Lisa!’ Dylan heard Vicky shout out in the outer office. ‘Boss wants a coffee – make it a strong, sweet one!’
Dylan couldn’t help but raise a smile.
***
Dylan had succeeded in keeping the press at bay. He had caught up with the ongoing enquiries but when satisfied he was on top of the situation his clock told him the media would have to wait until after he’d attended Carl Braithwaite’s post-mortem.
Five minutes to go and now with an emergency energy drink in hand he picked up the phone and dialled Jen’s number.
‘Wouldn’t you know, her first words to me when she woke up just now were, when is Father Christmas coming?’
‘She must have had a nice dream, bless her.’
‘So far so good... I’m staying at the hospital with her. Dad has gone to get me some clean clothes and he is walking Max. Thank you for ringing him... that was very thoughtful.’
‘Thoughtful? No, selfish, I want to know you’re both okay and if I can’t be with you twenty-four seven then; there’s no one better than your dad.’
‘Praise indeed. Although, the feeling’s not mutual, he didn’t have a high opinion of policeman after Shaun and now he thinks you’ve got a roving eye,’ she said with a little chuckle.
‘Ah well, I’ve got broad shoulders. How’s Maisy?’
‘She’s sleeping again. The doctor says she’ll sleep a lot.’
‘I should be there... I wish I was ...’
‘You don’t need to be here. She’s doing okay. All her obs. are good. There isn’t anything you could do if you were here that I’m not, so please don’t feel guilty – just keep in touch.’
‘I’ll be over as soon as I can after the post-mortem. Give her a kiss from me.’
‘Okay,’ she said wistfully.
***
DS Raj Uppal was
already at the mortuary. Dylan found himself standing at the preparation room door. He grabbed the handle. In distance he could hear footsteps, muffled voices and the sound of a door being opened and closed. On entering the prep room he could see the pathologist looked brighter than he had a few days ago. Stow was his usual jovial self and he was sparring with his assistant in front of Raj. Seeing Dylan he walked over to greet him.
‘I’m going to have to change my duty rota to avoid you Dylan,’ he said. ‘We are meeting far too often for my liking.’
‘The feeling’s mutual,’ he said.
‘What delight have you got for me today then? Raj here tells me we have a piece of scaffolding pole and a discarded wallet at the scene of the young man’s body. Carl Braithwaite,’ he said, reading from his paperwork. He looked at Dylan questioningly over his half-rimmed glasses.
‘That’s right. Over to you.’
Professor Stow looked inside Carl Braithwaite’s pockets before removing his outer clothing. His mobile was still on his person, as was his watch. ‘I thought someone might have been late night shopping, but it would appear not. Perhaps only cash would do?’
‘But that’s it, there was still money in his wallet,’ said Raj.
Stow passed the exhibits to the exhibits officer, who in turn put the items into bags which he sealed. The evidence label attached to each item would be signed at the end of the post-mortem by the professor.
At the head Professor Stow examined the injury. ‘That’s one hell of a blow Inspector. There is no chance that that’s been done accidentally. It’s smashed through the young lad’s skull. He’d know nothing about it. There is a slight curve at its lower edge like the crescent of a moon. Can you see?’ he said pointing to the indentation. ‘This mark looks to me as if it is consistent with your piece of scaffold pipe. I’ll measure so we can check. It’s caused a massive fracture to the skull exposing the brain. To put it simply it’s like cracking the top of a hard-boiled egg with a spoon. That would give you the same sort of effect, but with the force that has been used here, if it had been an egg the egg would have been completely shattered. There’s just the one blow with no evidence here of any more attempts. The attacker was sure that the damage in that singular strike would do the intended job. It is possible that you will find skin and blood on the weapon... the scaffolding pole.’
Professor Stow and his assistant turned Carl Braithwaite onto his back and sponged away the dried blood from Braithwaite’s lips.
‘Is this a test?’ he said. Stow looked left and right and then all about him. ‘There is no eminent surgeon hiding in the wings waiting to assess me is there?’
Raj looked at Dylan with a puzzled expression. ‘No, what makes you say that?’
‘Teeth, the young man’s teeth have been extracted... not knocked out but look here, carefully removed.’
‘You’re winding me up,’ said Dylan.
‘I most definitely am not. Come here,’ he said.
The professor pulled the lower lip down with his gloved hand exposing the gums. He then did the same with the upper lip and counted four teeth had been extracted from the top and four from the bottom.
‘Not the same teeth as Davina Walsh?’ said Raj.
‘No,’ Dylan said. ‘Different teeth....’
Raj watched his jawline tense.
‘Extracted just as professionally though,’ said Stow.
‘I knew the scene was too good to be true,’ said Raj. ‘Do you think it’s the same person?’
‘This is unique,’ said Stow. ‘This is not a coincidence. The murderer has just linked the two crimes for you.’ Stow swabbed the area. Pictures were taken to conclude. ‘There is nothing else untoward. Carl Braithwaite was otherwise a healthy young man,’ he said concluding his findings. ‘I said at the end of the Walsh post-mortem you had someone who likes to kill for the thrill. But in all my years in this job I’ve never seen anything so bizarre. Teeth extraction and thrill in the same sentence?’ The professor’s fat, pink cheeks wobbled when he took off his mask.
‘Well, I always say if there is no other obvious explanation of a crime it’s usually to do with some sexual perversion or fetish,’ said Dylan
***
Dylan walked to the pathologist’s office alongside Professor Stow. ‘The DNA national database has struck lucky with a hit on a name from the contents of a condom we found at the scene near Davina Walsh’s body.’
‘Well, I don’t need to tell you how to do your job Inspector. But I suggest you tread with caution. Do you think the person who has done this would make it that easy for you?’
Dylan shrugged his shoulders. ‘God knows.’
‘Well, I’ve got to go, I’ve got people dying to see me, and all that jazz,’ he chuckled. ‘I’ll be seeing you. But hopefully not too soon.’
Professor Stow turned at the door of the mortuary office.
‘If you get any more similar cases I’d like to know about them. No, I should say when you get any similar cases I’d like to do the post-mortems personally, for continuity.’
‘You’re that sure?’ said Dylan.
‘I’d bet my career on it,’ Stow said.
***
Dylan drove back to the station with Raj in the car. ‘It looks like we have a psycho on our hands.’
‘Local, do you think?’
‘I don’t know what I think. There is no obvious link with the locations the killer has chosen.’
‘That murder scene was good enough for a training school exercise,’ said Raj.
‘I want you to look at offender profilers. Call Boscombe for me. See if he can shed any light on the type of individual we are looking for and check with the National Crime Faculty to see if teeth extractions have featured in any past crimes. This is a new one on me.’
‘If the person who used that condom is known to us and this enquiry is now known to be linked to the Davina Walsh murder, we could potentially have our man in custody real soon,’ said Raj with a glint in her large brown eyes.
‘Talking of the Braithwaite murder, I must go and meet his family. But for now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Most importantly we must not stray from the tried and tested methodical investigative strategy. Even cool and calculated killers are prone to mistakes. Usually by being over confident you’ll find, in my experience, a killer will give something away and at every opportunity, as with the gift of the condom, we’ll be ready to strike like a coiled snake.’
***
The CID office, incident room, was now also doubling up as the investigation briefing room. The HOLMES team were already in their seats, at desks that were covered with computer terminals, trays and an abundance of paperwork. More chairs had been brought in to house the extra staff at the meeting but even then people stood by the filing cabinets that ran around the periphery of the office. The numbers of the team were building day by day.
Dylan sat with Raj and Vicky at the front of the office. Raising his head from his notes he looked around him. People were coming in from all directions and the noise grew louder and louder. He could feel the buzz of anticipation in the air. Although incident rooms had changed over the years, mostly due to the introduction of computers, that didn’t deflect from what they were used for. This room was adequately modern, its decor nothing like the leather topped desks, dark mahogany walls and paper index systems of yesteryear.
When Dylan stood the room’s inhabitants were instantly silent and with a nod of his head the door was closed shut and only then did he speak to his team to outline the circumstances of the latest murder and reveal the findings of the post-mortem.
‘So far I have not confided to the media about the skilful removal of the teeth from our victims. I want to hold that information back as long as possible and at this moment Operation Walnut and the latest Braithwaite murder which has now been given the operational name of Tapestry, will not be officially merged. The purpose of this is to allow investigations into each to remain focused for the next few days.
As far as the media are concerned they have been given an update regarding the young man who has died that he sustained a severe head injury, in what appears to us to be a robbery. An appeal for witnesses has been made. Vicky, can you update the team in relation to Operation Walnut please?’
Vicky took centre stage. Her revelation of the DNA hit released a silent cheer and punch in the air from more than one of the audience.
‘We will be making a visit to Mr Roger Briggs at seven o’clock tomorrow morning. Just so you are aware he is a family man with two small children of school age,’ said Vicky.
‘I am in no doubt, after being involved in many murder investigations that coincidences do occur. So, tomorrow we will pursue our suspect rigorously and professionally. Remember we deal with evidence at all time, not speculation,’ said Dylan.
Chapter Six
The good news that greeted Dylan at the hospital was that Maisy had been taken off the intravenous drip and was now taking antibiotics orally. This was to be continued for the next four weeks to ensure the virus had been defeated but it was anticipated that she would be allowed home within the next forty-eight hours.
‘I had squashed peas for tea Daddy,’ Maisy said sleepily. Dylan looked at Jen.
‘She means she had mushy peas for tea,’ said Jen stroking her daughter’s arm.
***
With the worry of Maisy’s illness taken from him Dylan was looking forward to a good night’s sleep. However, the house was too quiet. The bed too empty. His father-in-law too pre-occupied to be party to any meaningful conversation, when he arrived home.
‘Drink?’ Dylan said to Ralph as he reached over the ironing board and switched on the kettle. Ralph was letting Max out of the back door. Dylan was pressing a shirt – one of his pet hates: creases in a collar. Ralph grunted in the affirmative.
‘Something wrong?’
Killer Smile Page 8
