Dead to Me

by Pamela Murray

  Once she’d received the email address for both the evidence section and for the young man she’d spoken to, she quickly typed in the request and sent if off. In it she said that the package was urgently required and that she’d be along to pick it up asap. Hopefully, that would do the trick and satisfy both the evidence department and the overly-efficient police officer. Her admiration for Joe Burton grew even more, having to put up with this on a daily basis was something that she was going to have to get used to. Grabbing her belongings, she logged off from her computer and headed for Harpurhey Police Station. Hopefully, she’d return with what she was going for.

  Thankfully, everything was in order by the time she arrived. After explaining the situation to the desk sergeant, he telephoned the officer in question and she waited for his arrival. She glanced at the clock above the desk; it was fast approaching 7 p.m. She should have finished her shift and been home by now, but the people ringing in following the abridged television press conference had kept her busily writing their calls up. Joe had left at six, and had offered to stay with her, but she’d told him to take the opportunity to get away when he could. Which is why she was now handling this one on her own.

  DC Markham, the person Fielding had spoken to, greeted his superior officer in a manner a bit less officious than before. Amazing what a Metropolitan Police email address could do, and a bit of status-checking. She knew that he would have also checked her out on the database in addition to the requisite official electronic letterhead he’d requested. She would have done exactly the same.

  ‘I’ll take you to the evidence room now,’ he said, leading the way.

  Fielding followed him to the basement. Opening the door, a long corridor was ahead them, and the overhead lights flickered into life. Moving forward, Markham stopped by a door just after the third light had come on and scanned the panel with a key card. The red lights turned to green, and they entered.

  ‘I came down as soon as I got your email,’ he said, ‘and already have it waiting for you.’

  She thanked him. As he said, he’d already removed the package from the storage box it would have been placed in upon arrival, and it was on top of a table. Beside it was a clipboard with a form on it, which she presumed was the release authority.

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind signing this, then you’re free to take it away with you.’ His words confirmed what she’d suspected.

  Quickly scanning what it said, she signed her name at the bottom of the sheet then picked up the costume still in its polythene bag.

  ‘And this is exactly how it was brought in?’ Fielding asked, looking at it.

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘I took the statement from the lady who brought it in, and she said that the tear in the bag was caused by her dog clawing at it to get at it.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ she said, already having heard the story.

  ‘Here’s your copy of the release form,’ he said, handing it to her, ‘and a copy of Mrs Jones’s fingerprints, which she very kindly allowed us to take.’

  ‘Good thinking,’ Fielding said, as she took them.

  ‘Is there anything else I can help you with, detective inspector?’

  Despite his willingness to help doubtlessly spurred on by her rank, Fielding had to tell him that there wasn’t, and with that, she exited the basement clutching the evidence in order to get it over to her own division’s forensic lab as soon as she could.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Fortunately, the forensic unit at Fielding’s station didn’t close. The twenty-four hour operation was necessary as crimes were sadly not restricted to normal working-day hours.

  Pressing the buzzer for attention, she recognised the woman who came to reception as one of the team who attended most of her investigations.

  ‘Hello there,’ Fielding said cheerily, ‘they’ve got you working late I see.’

  ‘I could say the same to you,’ she laughed. ‘Got something for us then?’

  ‘Yes, this,’ the detective said, holding up the package.

  The woman looked interested. ‘I’ve been following the case; is that what I think it is?’

  ‘I think it might very well be. Could be blood on there, could be something else, but I’d appreciate your team taking a look at it.’

  ‘Not a problem.’

  As she handed the bag over, Fielding also gave her Mary Jones’s fingerprint sheet. ‘From the lady who found the package, just to eliminate her.’

  ‘That helps a lot, thank you. We’ll let you know if and when we have something.’

  Happy in the knowledge that she had done as much as she could have that evening, Fielding decided to call it a night. Besides the cats, Joe would also be waiting for her at home. The idea of someone making her something to eat when she returned home was a novelty, but a welcome one nevertheless. She had been very surprised to discover that he was a bit of a whizz in the kitchen, as she’d been sure that his culinary expertise only extended to opening take-away cartons. How wrong she’d been. His creations had been surprising, and he even made adapted recipes because of her allergy to peppers.

  ‘So, that’s where we are at the moment, Joe,’ she said after they’d eaten a tasty concoction of rice, vegetables and noodles.

  ‘Summers couldn’t find anything in Norman Bishop’s hotel room then?’

  ‘Not a single thing. He said the forensic technician went over it with a fine-tooth comb, but there wasn’t any kind of evidence whatsoever.’

  ‘Do you think the cleaning service had already tidied it up?’

  Fielding shook her head. ‘No. Jack stopped anyone going in there before they arrived. It was spotless, which makes me think that if Bishop had been drowned in the bathroom, whoever did it cleaned up after themselves – and made an excellent job of it.’

  Burton agreed. ‘It certainly sounds that way. Maybe you should get CCTV footage from the hotel for that day. If he was dead when he was taken from the room, it couldn’t have been an easy operation to manoeuvre. I mean, how do you get a dead body out of a hotel room?’

  ‘I just don’t know, as you can’t simply walk them out of the door now, can you? Out via a back way is a possibility, I suppose, but that would require knowledge of the hotel and the hope that nobody will see you while you’re doing it. But don’t worry, I’ve already requested the CCTV footage from that evening.’

  ‘Of course you have, I should have known you’d be on the ball with this.’

  ‘I’m really pleased that you’re here tonight, Joe,’ she said, curling up to him on the sofa. ‘I don’t know how you manage to keep yourself sane through all of this.’

  ‘Well, you do the same job as I did dragging you around all the crimes scenes we’ve been to!’ he laughed.

  ‘Yes, I know, but being in charge of a case is a world away from being second-in-command.’

  ‘Not so much; it’s basically the same.’

  ‘But the authority lies solely on your shoulders . . .’

  ‘Hey, listen,’ he said, tilting her head up towards him, ‘you’re doing a great job and don’t ever forget it. I know we’re both going through a period of transition, but it’ll all work out in the end, I can assure you on that score. I felt the same when Ambleton was promoted, but then you came along and all my worries were gone. I knew that you were more than capable, and your strength gave me strength.’

  ‘That sounds like a rousing speech from a film!’ she laughed, at which point he pulled her close and kissed her. Sooty and Sweep were both curled up and napping at the other end of the sofa, and Burton’s sudden action caused them to stir. They looked up at the embraced pair and scrutinised them with approving eyes before returning back to their slumber.

  ‘Did you bring an overnight bag?’ Fielding asked.

  He nodded.

  ‘Good,’ she said, returning his kiss.

  ***

  I think we’ve got away with it; when can we meet up? the text message read. />
  I don’t think we’re clear yet, came the reply.

  But I’ve got to see you!

  I feel we need to wait a bit longer.

  It’s killing me not seeing you.

  We must be patient.

  OK, but it’s very hard.

  It will all be worth it in the end.

  I hope you’re right.

  You know I am.

  ***

  As another day dawned, Sally Fielding awoke with a strong feeling that any information they gathered today would be crucial to the investigation. She hoped to hear that forensics would find DNA of one of their suspects on the Robin Hood outfit, and that the CCTV from Norman Bishop’s hotel would reveal who removed him from the building. She just felt so positive about the whole thing, that she and the team would make a breakthrough in the case. At least, that was what her optimism was telling her. She’d spent a wonderful evening with Joe Burton, and if that wasn’t a reason to be overly happy nothing was. She only hoped that the happiness of being with the man she loved wasn’t clouding her judgement.

  ‘What time is it?’ Joe Burton asked, sensing she was awake.

  Sally looked at the clock on the bedside table. ‘Almost 5. 30 a.m.’

  He stretched and looked towards the window; the early-morning sunshine was already shining in through a gap in the curtains.

  ‘Looks like it’s going to be another warm, sunny day.’

  ‘I feel very good about today,’ she enthused, sitting up in the bed. ‘I think something’s going to break in the case.’

  ‘Do you?’ He turned on his side to face her.

  ‘Yes. And I think it’s going to come from that outfit that was found in Heaton Park.’

  ‘Well, I hope it does. I’m going to be upstairs again, all day this time, so do let me know as and when something turns up. I feel confident if you feel confident.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Fielding expected to be the first in when she arrived just after eight o’clock, but found Jack Summers already seated at his desk, staring intently at his monitor.

  ‘Oh, you’re in early!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, taking his eyes momentarily off the screen. ‘I had a text message to say that the CCTV had come through, so I thought it best to get started. Hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘No, not at all. Good thinking.’

  She already knew that Summers had initiative from the time spent undercover with him. The work he’d done had ultimately been the reason why he’d been chosen to partner Fielding on a permanent basis when Burton was promoted.

  She told him about the outfit Mary Jones had found in the park. ‘And with a bit of luck we should get something back from that later on in the day.’

  DCs Francis, Preston and Banks were expected to collate their summaries of the suspects and present them to Fielding today. She hoped that they’d discovered something that would shed light on a multitude of questions waiting to be answered.

  ‘I think it’s coming together,’ she said to Summers, repeating what she’d already told Burton earlier.

  ‘I hope you’re right,’ he replied. ‘This is a difficult case to figure out.’

  ‘I agree. Would you like me to take a look at some of the footage, as there’s nothing I can do until we get the results back from forensics?’

  ‘Sure, that would be great.’

  ‘Okay then, split the feed and send me half of it, I’ll start straight away.’

  Fielding knew that there was nothing more boring than trawling through hours and hours of CCTV footage, but it had to be done. When Summers sent her the amended file, she found the recording was split onto four screens, which meant having to keep a close eye on each of the sections at the same time. The Premier Hotel housed a lot of corporate meetings, with people coming in from across the country to attend them. For this reason, it was a lot busier than most of the other hotels in the city. As Fielding watched, there was little or no action along the corridor which housed Norman Bishop’s room, but the foyer and reception desk saw a lot of comings and goings during the course of the evening.

  After about an hour of sitting and watching, she was just about to take a break and go out for a coffee when she saw it. She immediately froze the recording, with the time stamp at the top of the quartered section reading 23:30:17, and called Summers over. As he came over and stood looking over her shoulder, she started the video up again. The luggage cart, which was frozen on the screen half-in and half-out of Norman Bishop’s doorway, began to move again. But it wasn’t just an empty cart; there was something covered up on it.

  ‘This has to be it,’ she said.

  ‘That must be Bishop’s body on there!’ Summers could hardly believe it.

  ‘If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t realise though, would you?’

  This is it, we’re going to see the killer face on. But, of course, things were never that easy or simple. Logically, they should have seen who was pushing the trolley from the room, but they didn’t. Whoever it was steering it must have known exactly where the CCTV camera was, because upon exiting the room, they immediately dropped their chin onto their chest so that only the top of their head could be seen.

  ‘Damn it!’ Fielding exploded, frustrated by the hours spent engaged on this for it all to come to nothing.

  As they kept watching, the person turned the trolley to their right, closed the door behind them, and was gone. And that was it.

  ‘But at least we know one thing, boss,’ Summers said to her, trying to quell the anger and annoyance he knew they both felt. ‘We now know that there was only one person with Bishop and, by the looks of it, that person was male.’

  Fielding was still staring at the screen in disbelief when her phone rang.

  ‘Acting DI Fielding,’ she replied a little harshly, which surprised the caller on the other end of the line.

  ‘Oh, is everything all right?’ a woman’s voice asked. ‘This is Holly Benton from forensics with the test results of the item of clothing you handed in yesterday.’

  Fielding apologised, and felt obliged to explain her shortness with her. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve just been watching CCTV hoping for a result, but it’s fallen flat.’

  ‘Well, I hope that what I have to tell you might be a bit of good news for you then.’

  Fielding’s interest was immediately raised.

  ‘The piece of torn cloth found at Valerie Wilton’s house matched a tear in the sleeve of the outfit, so whoever wore it was there. As the lady who handed it in suspected, it was blood we found on the garment; but more than that, we’ve actually found DNA on it and you’ll be pleased to hear that we’ve managed to trace it to someone in our system.’

  This was great news indeed.

  ‘It’s from a Caroline Watkins; would you like the address we have for her, because it was from a number of years ago and she may no longer live there?’

  Fielding didn’t need any further information, for she already knew where Ms Watkins lived. As she was thanking Holly for getting back to her so quickly, there was a reaction from Jack Summers who was still watching the CCTV stream at his desk.

  ‘You have to see this!’ he shouted over to her when she’d finished the call, and she hurried over. Just out of curiosity, he’d started up the video again while she was on the call, and was very pleased that he had. Although they’d lost sight of both the trolley and the person pushing it, the camera was still focused on Norman Bishop’s hotel room door. It had been closed by the unknown person, but then it opened again and a second figure emerged from it. The person was wearing a hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, but it was obvious from the size and shape of them that it was a woman.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  As Joe Burton had asked her to keep him informed of any progression, Fielding called him. This was far too important not to let him in on it.

  ‘Can we get tech to work on the CCTV?’ he asked, in response to her telling
him that the woman’s face in the video couldn’t be made out. ‘Get Peter Westerby onto it, I’m sure he’ll come up with some programme or another that can help.’

  Fielding told him she would.

  ‘And what about Caroline Watkins; have you checked to see why her DNA’s in the system?’

  ‘I just have,’ she replied, ‘and it seems that a few years back she had to give a sample in a case her firm was working on. One of her clients saw something he perhaps shouldn’t have and called her for help. Because she attended the scene, it was taken for elimination purpose and somehow it’s remained in the system.’

  ‘I’m surprised that we still have it, but that’s a lucky break for us then.’

  ‘Indeed. In any case, I’m taking Jack with me to pick her up and bring her into the station. Jane, Phillipa and Simon haven’t turned up anything else with regard to the other three suspects.’

  ‘Did you get any further with looking into Madame Ortiz’s background?’

  ‘To tell the truth,’ she admitted, ‘I was going to this morning but then I gave Jack a hand with the CCTV.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Look, I’m going to be free in about fifteen minutes, so I can go and visit her again if you like?’

  Fielding didn’t really, as she’d seen the way Ortiz was playing up to him the last time they’d visited her. But she knew Joe, and she knew that the woman’s put-on charms wouldn’t have any effect on him anyway, so she agreed and thanked him for offering.

  ‘That’s set then. We’ll meet up afterwards to go over our findings.’

  After a quick call to Caroline Watkins’s mobile, Fielding told her that she had some further questions for her and asked her where they could meet. When she replied that she was at work, the detective told her she’d come over. Fielding avoided mentioning anything more or that Caroline would be taken back to the station. As Caroline’s DNA had been found on the costume, it stood to reason that the item of clothing was hers, or at least belonging to someone she knew, otherwise how else could it have got there? She had known Harry York, as had Maria Turnbull, but what possible reason could Caroline have had for killing him, or the others? That was a question that needed to be answered.