‘Tell you what, let’s get your friends and all your bikes into the taxi, and then me and Barnes will drive you home once we’ve had a chat.’
He let out a shaking breath, then ran his hand over mid-length dark brown hair that had been flattened by the helmet he now cradled in his hands. ‘Okay, thanks.’
The three other cyclists were full of concern for their friend as they shook his hand and then followed the uniformed officers towards the taxi.
‘I’ll pop round later to see you,’ said the taller of the men, before he picked up a second bicycle from the grass verge and wheeled it over to the taxi.
Kay watched while Temple raised his hand in farewell as the vehicle pulled back out into the lane, his expression wistful.
‘Guv? We’ve got company.’
Kay spun on her heel at Barnes’s words, and stifled a groan at the sight of a familiar figure extricating himself from a four-door car that had been parked further up the lane from the lay-by.
Despite the distance between them, she could sense the excitement emanating from Jonathan Aspley as he hurried towards the crime tape on the far side of the screen.
‘Get Lee to the car, Ian. Be with you in a moment.’
She intercepted the reporter as he drew level with the screen and turned him away from the direction of Barnes’s car.
‘Now is not a good time, Aspley.’
‘Come on, Hunter – before the rest of them get here. At least give me a quote I can use.’
Kay narrowed her eyes. ‘Trust me, you won’t be able to print what I say if you don’t back off. There will be a media conference later today at headquarters. Come along to that, and I’ll give you as much information as I can then.’
‘And I’ll simply end up with the same story as everybody else. You owe me.’
‘I do not.’ She sighed. ‘Look, it’s too early for this. Be at the press conference later on, let my team get on with their jobs now, and I’ll see what I can send your way in a couple of days.’
‘Exclusive?’
‘That’ll be up to Sharp, but I’ll do my best.’
‘You mean, you’ll use me if you need to drip feed information.’
‘I can give it to one of your competitors, if you like?’
His mouth thinned. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Kay waited until he had reached his car, then spun on her heel and hurried back to where Barnes sat in his vehicle, Lee Temple on the back seat.
‘Sorry about that.’ Kay reached into her bag for her notebook and a pen before twisting around in her seat. ‘Okay, I know that you’ve already spoken to our uniformed colleagues about what you found, Lee, but please could you take me through what happened this morning? Tell me everything, even if you think it isn’t important.’
He bit his lip, then nodded and proceeded to describe his time from leaving his house that morning up until he’d discovered the grisly remains in the work boot. His friend, Tony White, had been the one to phone triple nine.
Kay remained silent as he talked, taking notes and jotting down his responses to her questions while she listened.
Although Debbie and her colleague had taken initial witness statements from the four cyclists, Kay preferred to hear accounts from witnesses herself whenever possible. Often, someone like Lee would remember a detail the second time around that hadn’t been mentioned before as his mind continued to process what he had been through.
When he had finished speaking, she gave him a moment to collect himself, then cleared her throat.
‘When you were approaching the lay-by, did you notice any vehicles?’
‘No – we had the road to ourselves. We were riding side by side, with me and Nigel in front. Nigel got the lead on me, before he noticed he had a puncture. That’s when we pulled off the road. There were no vehicles in front of us, and the first time I noticed one was after I’d found the boot.’
‘Is this a favourite route of yours?’ said Barnes.
‘It was,’ Lee mumbled, then dropped his gaze and turned his cycling helmet over in his hands.
‘How long have you been coming this way?’ said Kay.
‘About eight months.’
‘Ever seen someone in that lay-by?’
‘I’m sorry – I can’t remember.’
‘That’s okay. What sort of vehicles do you see along here?’
‘Normal ones, I suppose. Cars, motorbikes. Sometimes a van, perhaps. It’s usually quiet along this stretch. It’s why we come this way.’ His forehead puckered. ‘I’m not being very helpful, am I?’
‘You’re doing fine,’ said Kay. ‘It all helps us.’
‘Okay.’
‘When did you last cycle along here?’
‘About four weeks ago.’
‘Did you notice anything then? Anything that seemed out of place?’
‘No – we only stopped today because Nigel got that puncture. Otherwise—’
She saw Barnes raise his eyebrow as she dropped her notebook back into her bag and nodded.
There would be no more questions for Lee Temple today. She would let the man rest, then speak to him again in a day or so, to see if time had added anything to his memories of the route and the circumstances in which he’d discovered the work boot.
Kay fastened her seatbelt. ‘What’s your address, Lee?’
The cyclist rattled it off, and Barnes nodded in recognition, before accelerating away from the crime scene.
Half an hour later, Barnes flicked the indicator as he slowed the vehicle, then turned left into a lane that led around the back of West Farleigh and past the train station.
He braked to a gentle halt at a row of terraced houses, then climbed from the car and opened the back door for Temple. He handed him a business card before sending the man on his way and sliding behind the steering wheel once more.
‘Poor bastard,’ he muttered.
Kay bit her lip as she watched the door to the house open wide.
A woman appeared, her dark blonde hair swept up into a ponytail and a little girl balanced on her hip.
Lee staggered over the threshold and into the woman’s embrace. They remained there for a moment, and then she led him inside and shut the door.
Barnes released the handbrake and edged the car away from the kerb.
‘I don’t think Mr Temple will be doing much cycling for the foreseeable future.’
‘I can’t say I blame him,’ said Kay. ‘I’d imagine he’s going to be having nightmares for a while yet.’
Four
Kay unbuttoned her shirtsleeves and rolled them up until they reached her elbows.
The morning had turned warm by the time they’d reached Maidstone police station, while the cloudless skies above provided a perfect summer’s day.
Though they would all prefer to be at home with their families, she knew the team would now be focusing on the tasks at hand. She was pleased that she and Barnes had been on call, otherwise the crime scene would have been handed over to someone else, and she would have been stuck in a three-day workshop entitled “Advanced Management Techniques” from Monday morning.
Her relief was tempered by the thought that someone could have been injured or died in horrific circumstances, and she would do all she could to bring the person responsible to justice.
The incident room buzzed with activity when she pushed through the door and crossed to her desk. Phillip Parker had taken the initiative to set up a whiteboard and source extra computers while she and Barnes had been at the crime scene.
She’d first met the constable when he was completing his probationary period twelve months ago, and it was evident that, under the tutelage of PC Norris, the young man was settling into his role well. He’d filled out, too – where once he’d been a lanky twenty-something, he’d added weight to his slight frame and Kay realised he’d probably done so to take on some of Maidstone’s more colourful characters.
Friday and Saturday nights could be a menace in the town centre, and Pa
rker would have surely been a target for troublemakers.
‘Great work, Phil,’ she said as she approached.
He grinned. ‘Thought it’d save some time.’
‘Thanks.’
She peered over her shoulder at the rest of the assembled team.
At present, there were only four other uniformed officers assisting, but that would change in the morning once rosters were adjusted and help gleaned from other investigations.
She wouldn’t be popular, that was for sure.
Kay resolved to take her fellow detectives out for a drink in a few weeks to soften the blow of losing resources to her murder case, and then turned her attention to the whiteboard.
Parker had printed out a large colour map of the Maidstone area, the location of the morning’s bloody discovery already highlighted with a large red pin. He’d obtained images of the lane via online mapping software and had pinned these next to the map.
They would suffice until the scene-of-crime officers provided their own photographs.
Once satisfied that the administrative side of the investigation was organised, she returned to her desk and flicked through her notebook until she found Lee Temple’s interview and began to type up her scrawl.
A new investigation would be set up in the HOLMES database by a specially assigned officer later on that day, and she would add her interview to the growing amount of collated information, beginning the process of enquiry.
She glanced up as Barnes sank into the chair opposite her desk and wiggled his mouse to wake up his computer.
‘Have you spoken to Gavin and Carys?’
‘Yes – they’ll be in at seven tomorrow. They both offered to come in today, if you want them to?’
‘No, that’s okay. I’d rather they rest today – goodness knows when they’ll next get time off, and we need everybody to be focused on this one.’
She looked up as DCI Sharp approached their desks, the senior detective exuding an air of efficiency that he had carried with him from his time in the military, then years spent as a detective in the Kent Police area.
‘What can you tell me?’ he said.
‘First off, we’re going to need to organise a press conference for this afternoon,’ said Kay. ‘Jonathan Aspley from the Kentish Times turned up as we were leaving with the witness, and he won’t be the only one sniffing around for a story. We need to manage this from the start to avoid the media creating panic and speculation.’
Sharp ran a hand over his close-cropped silver flecked hair and sighed. ‘I agree – I would rather have left it a day or so, but with the crime scene in such a public place, I’m surprised we haven’t seen anything on social media yet.’
‘The first responders and Harriet’s team did a great job of shielding the area from passing cars, guv,’ said Barnes. ‘No-one will be able to get anything on camera, anyway.’
‘They’re keeping a look-out for drones, and I know for a fact that the local news helicopter is in for servicing this week,’ said Kay, ‘so no-one is going to get an aerial shot, either.’
‘Good.’ Sharp turned and pulled a chair over, lowering himself into it before speaking again. ‘I understand there were four cyclists, and one of them found the boot?’
‘Yes, Lee Temple,’ said Kay. ‘Works as a primary school teacher in Paddock Wood. Lives in West Farleigh, and he and his three mates cycle together every Sunday morning. The lane is a regular route of theirs to get to Boughton Monchelsea, but this was the first time in four months they had ever stopped in that lay-by.’
‘So, any idea how long that severed foot has been there for?’
‘Harriet was reluctant to hazard a guess. Hopefully, Lucas Anderson will be able to tell us more when he does the post mortem.’
Sharp nodded and leaned back in his chair. ‘You can both appreciate that we are going to be under the microscope with this one. Especially as the team is still missing a detective sergeant role since your promotion, Kay. We’ve got interviews lined up for next week, and you’re going to be expected to sit in on some of those, so make sure you factor that into the tasks you set everyone.’ He raised an eyebrow at Barnes. ‘Are you sure we can’t persuade you to apply?’
Barnes’s mouth twisted at the corner. ‘No thanks, guv.’
Sharp shrugged. ‘It was worth a shot.’
He didn’t say anything further, but Kay could sense his disappointment in Barnes’s decision. Often, it was easier to recruit from within an established team than bring a new person on board and hope that it didn’t upset the dynamics between existing personnel.
On the other hand, she respected Barnes’s decision – there was no sense in him taking on the role if he wasn’t happy to do so. They were sharing the detective sergeant duties between them in the interim, but they wouldn’t be able to sustain it – not with a murder enquiry underway.
She couldn’t blame Sharp for trying – she’d mentioned the role to Barnes last week when they’d sneaked out of the incident room and taken their lunch down to a favourite spot next to the river behind the Bishop’s Palace.
He’d been adamant, though, and said he was content to stay as a detective constable.
Sharp rose from his chair and tucked it out of the way under another desk. ‘Right, I’ll let you both get on. Kay – expect to be at headquarters for four o’clock this afternoon so we can do this press conference together. I’ll see you in the morning, Barnes.’
‘Guv.’
Kay turned away at a ping from her computer and wheeled closer to the screen. ‘Harriet’s just emailed through the initial photographs from the scene, Ian.’
Barnes moved around the desks to join her, and they flicked through the images.
As she cast her gaze over the shocking scene depicted in the photos, she couldn’t help wondering what he had done to deserve such a brutal end.
‘What sort of person does that?’ said Barnes.
She closed the last attachment and rubbed at her right eye. ‘More to the point, where was he taking it, and where’s the rest?’
Five
Kay’s first impression was one of pure pandemonium as she strode into the large meeting room that had been seconded for the afternoon press conference.
It appeared that word had travelled fast amongst the Kentish news corp, with all the chairs taken up and news cameramen and photographers jostling for space along the walls.
She wrinkled her nose at the faint aroma of stale cigarettes that clung to the reporters’ clothing as she moved down the aisle towards the dais where a long table had been set up.
Joanne Thomas, an administrative assistant from headquarters who had been brought in to help with the press conference, had told Kay that some of the reporters had turned up an hour before to ensure they got a front row seat, and Kay wondered how many of them were now gasping for their next nicotine fix.
The noise level was deafening as she dumped her handbag behind the table and faced the room.
Six months ago, she’d been terrified at the thought of facing all those people, the camera lenses with their unblinking eyes upon her and the worry that she’d somehow slip up and make a mistake.
Now, she ran a practised eye over the gathered throng, taking her time and sizing up her audience.
She nodded to a few familiar faces and ignored the scowl that a raven-haired female reporter shot her way – she’d had a run-in with Suzie Chambers a while back but was surprised to see her perched on one of the seats at the front. Usually, the woman worked as the local television news show’s roving reporter, and Kay wondered if Chambers had annoyed her bosses somehow to be relegated to covering the murder investigation from this angle. As it was, she sat with a thunderous expression and her arms folded across her chest.
A commotion near the door caught Kay’s attention, and she looked across to see Jonathan Aspley hurrying down the aisle, his neck craned as he sought out a spare chair.
The reporter’s pale eyes locked with hers for a moment, and he p
ushed his hair out of his eyes, before his head jerked sideways at a loud whistle to his left, and Kay saw another reporter wave Aspley over, indicating a seat next to him.
Grumbling ensued as the reporters stood to let him pass before the hubbub increased to its previous raucous level.
Kay turned back to her bag and extracted the notes she’d typed up in the incident room. The first page contained a statement she would read out, and included key points she wanted the media to report that she hoped would advance the fledgling investigation. The second page covered questions she expected to have to answer in such a way as to protect Lee Temple and his friends and included operational matters she preferred Sharp to address.
Often, his military bark would cow the most persistent journalist.
On cue, the door at the back of the room opened and the DCI appeared, straightening his tie and casting his gaze over the assembled media as he joined Kay behind the table.
‘We’ll give them another couple of minutes to make sure everyone’s here, and then we’ll make a start,’ he said.
‘Sounds good. This is what I’ve drawn up.’
He took the pages, his eyes skimming her words, then handed them back with a curt nod. ‘Good work.’
He dragged the chair next to hers from its place against the table and sat down with an ill-disguised sigh.
‘You all right?’ Kay said out the corner of her mouth.
‘Politics. As usual. You and I are going to have to manage this so we don’t encroach too much on other caseloads – the chief superintendent has already got my nuts in a vice over how many extra staff I’ve managed to coerce from the Division.’
‘I thought perhaps we could organise drinks for them after all this is done? Sort of make up for leaving them short of staff.’
‘They’ll bankrupt us and end up with cirrhosis of their livers.’
She stifled a laugh. Smiling at a press conference about a murder was never a good idea.
Gone to Ground Page 2
