by Helen Phifer
Picking up the phone on his desk, he dialled the direct number to the police station he had for Chief Superintendent Adrian Quinn.
He answered on the first ring. ‘Greg. What can I do for you?’
‘Adrian, hi. I’ve heard there have been bodies found on Easdale Road. I know you can’t tell me much but I’d appreciate a heads-up on what you know.’
‘An entire family have been found dead. Well, almost: one of them is still alive, just.’
Greg let out a whistle. ‘Accidental?’
‘Not from the information we have up to now, but you know I can’t say. It’s all still hush-hush at the moment.’
‘Jamie Stone already knows and is on his way to the scene. Thought I’d give you warning.’
‘Christ. When I find out who is passing information on to the press, I’ll have them on suspension before they can hand me their badge.’
‘Well, as our esteemed editor of the local newspaper, maybe you should ask Jamie who his contact is. But about the bodies, is it anyone I know and is there anything about it that will put tourists off? You know what the local businesses are like, any whiff of a scandal and they’re up in arms.’
‘Greg, I don’t know if you’re acquainted with them. An entire family are dead, dying. I don’t care what the owner of Rocks and Socks thinks. All I care about is finding out what happened to them and why.’
‘Can you at least tell me where on Easdale Road?’
‘A property called Lake View.’
Greg felt the room begin to swim; he knew that house. He knew the family who lived there. His palms became clammy and he felt as if he had tunnel vision.
‘By the way that’s confidential until a press release has been issued.’
‘Oh, yeah, of course.’
The line went dead as he pushed his chair back from the desk and leant as far forwards as he could, bending his head down. The horror sinking in, he stayed that way, unable to lift his head up for fear of passing out.
Fifteen
Morgan had no idea how long a CT scan should take, but it was longer than she expected. She caught a glimpse of Bronte as the doors finally opened, and they began the intricate task of wheeling her out. The girl looked as if she was clinging onto life.
‘Where is she going?’
‘Theatre, we need to remove a part of her skull. There’s a large hematoma pressing against it.’
‘I need her clothes, and we need to swab her hands. A CSI is on the way, is this possible?’
The nurse nodded. ‘It will take a little while for the theatre to become available.’
She let out the breath she’d been holding; thank God she hadn’t entirely messed up. She wanted to impress Ben, show him she was made of the stuff detectives were. Up till now, though, she’d felt she was on a steep learning curve. They didn’t cover any of this stuff in training at headquarters.
As she followed the porters back to a cubicle in the emergency department, she saw Ben walk through the doors, followed by a male CSI. Morgan’s shoulders dropped and the knot in her stomach loosened at the sight of them both. She waved them through, holding the double doors open for them to slip inside.
‘How you holding up?’
‘I’m good, although I’m not going to lie. Much better now that you two are here.’
Ben smiled. ‘Why don’t you go grab a coffee, take a break. The afternoon shift is in briefing; as soon as they’re finished someone is coming to relieve you. While I’m here and Mark is doing his thing, you can have some time to think.’
‘Thanks, but if it’s okay with you I’d rather stay. Then I know what to do for future reference.’
All three stood outside the cubicle waiting for the doctor’s permission to set about taking the relevant forensic samples and seizing Bronte’s clothing. A nurse assisted Mark to take the fingernail scrapings and remove her clothing, taking time to gently dress her in a hospital gown. Ben stepped outside, taking Morgan with him to give Bronte some privacy.
Morgan looked back. ‘That poor kid, it’s horrific. Why would someone do that to her, to them?’
‘That’s what I intend to find out. Listen, I know you’ve had a rough ride and it’s early days, but what are you wanting to do career wise? Are you wanting to stay on response, or do you think you might want to pursue a career in CID at some point?’
‘I want to be a detective, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. That’s why I joined really. I don’t think I’d want to spend the next twenty years driving around the country lanes aimlessly waiting for the next job to come in. I want to be the one putting the clues and evidence together, helping to solve crimes.’
‘You’ve given it some thought then?’ A small laugh escaped his lips.
Once more she felt her face begin to flush and wondered if he thought she was far too enthusiastic.
‘Sorry, that sounded…’
He held his hand up. ‘Look you have to stop apologising if you’re going to be working for me, I can’t take it. I’m miserable, grumpy, and I moan a lot but I’m not a complete bastard. You won’t get any extra pay, it’s much longer hours and you’ll have to go on the national detective development course at HQ and work with a tutor DC eventually. But I’m offering you a three-month attachment if you want it, so you can see if you like it or if it’s what you thought it would be before you decide. If you hate it, you can go back onto response. At least you’ll have given it a shot, though, and will know one way or the other if it’s the right career path for you.’
Morgan screwed up her face. ‘I don’t quite know what you mean?’
‘Don’t frown like that, you’ll end up with a face like mine. I need a hand. I’m desperately short-staffed and this is a huge case. There are lots of enquiries that need fixing up. Amy and I will take the lead, but you will be given tasks from the both of us to complete. You’re keen, you’ve been involved from day one and I think you’d be an asset to my team, eventually. What do you think, would you like to move up to CID? At least you won’t be driving a van around all day.’
Morgan let out a squeal. Grabbing hold of Ben, she threw her arms around him and he stiffened up. Realising she’d overstepped her mark, she let go, her hands dropping back down to her sides.
‘Sorry. Yes! Is this real? You’re being serious and not making fun of me?’
He shook his head.
‘Yes, yes, yes please. Oh my God, I can’t believe it, I thought I’d have to wait years for a chance to work in CID.’
Laughing, Ben shrugged. ‘To be honest you’ve kind of fallen on your feet because I’m so short-staffed; normally I wouldn’t get within a hundred feet of a rookie.’
‘Oh.’ The excitement deflated as fast as it had arrived.
‘I don’t mean that in a horrible way, it’s how it is. Circumstances have dictated otherwise though, and I know you’ll work hard and fit in with my team. So, you’re in?’
He held out his hand. She stared at it, noticing for the first time the smooth ring of skin where his wedding band should be. Grabbing hold of it, she shook it.
‘I’m in. Do I get to wear my own clothes?’
‘You certainly do.’
The curtain opened and Mark stepped out with a couple of paper evidence sacks in one hand, his case in the other.
‘All done. I think she’s going down to theatre soon.’
‘Cheers, Mark.’
Morgan stepped back into the cubicle, and Ben went to speak to the doctor in charge. If she’d thought that Bronte looked frail before, she looked even smaller now in the cotton hospital gown that drowned her tiny frame. Unable to stop herself, she reached out and took hold of her cold hand.
Clasping it tenderly, bending down, she whispered, ‘Keep fighting, Bronte, I’m going to find who did this to you and your family. I promise you.’
Sixteen
Neither of them spoke much on the way back to the station, and Morgan was desperate to change out of her soiled uniform. As if reading her mind, Ben parked u
p, saying, ‘You can go get changed, shower then come up to the office.’
‘I’d better go and speak to my sergeant, tell him where I’m going. They might be short on patrol if I come up now.’
‘You sort yourself out, and I’ll speak to Mads. He won’t mind; the DCI requested we ask you as soon as possible.’
That wasn’t strictly true, he knew. He’d requested Ben find someone ASAP. He hadn’t specifically requested Morgan, but she didn’t need to know that.
She went in the direction of the women’s locker room, and he headed to the patrol sergeant’s office. Knocking on the door, he walked in without waiting to be asked.
‘Mads.’
‘Ben, how’s it going? Is Morgan with you, is she coping okay? It’s a bit much for your first independent patrols.’
‘She’s fine; at least she seems it. Look, I need some help. We’re desperately short-staffed and Tom said to find someone today. I’ve asked her and she’s happy to come up and do a three-month attachment. It will be a massive help.’
‘What? It’s her second day. Don’t you want someone slightly more experienced and who’s willing to take on the extra caseload? Dan has been wanting to come up for months. He’d be more than happy to.’
Ben shut the door and lowered his voice. ‘Dan’s difficult; I can’t work with him. Not at the moment. This is the biggest murder case I’ve ever worked on, and I need to be focused. I can’t afford to spend all day wasting my effort trying to keep him in line. Morgan’s keen and has been on the case from the moment it was called in. I think she’ll be okay.’
‘I think she won’t, she’s inexperienced.’
‘Yes, but she’s confident and I have faith in her. Don’t forget, you owe me one.’
Mads squinted at him; he did owe him one. Ben had saved his arse when his wife had come looking for him at the Christmas party after he’d left early with one of the PCSOs.
‘Christ almighty, you know this is going to cause a shitstorm with Dan. He won’t be happy about it.’
‘Tough, he’s a big boy and he can have the next place that becomes available; besides, if she’s crap and it isn’t working out, I’ll send her back down and he can come up. I can’t get fairer than that.’
‘You know this could go to professional standards if he finds out he was passed over just because he gets on your nerves. We’d both be up shit creek without a paddle. Not to mention it’s unheard of to give someone so inexperienced this kind of opportunity.’
‘Yeah, I’m aware of that possibility. However, he’s not going to find out about this conversation, is he? Just like your missus isn’t going to find out where you really were on the work do.’
Mads glared at Ben, who felt bad that he’d resorted to blackmail to get what he wanted. But it was Morgan or nothing; there was no way on this earth he was working extra-long days with Dan. He wanted to solve these murders, not spend his time resisting the urge to punch his cocky little face every time he opened his mouth.
‘On your head be it; this is nothing to do with me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when it all goes wrong.’
‘Why would it go wrong? She seems okay. At least she’s keen and isn’t worn down and feeling jaded yet like most of the response officers. Thanks.’
He opened the door and saw Dan hovering around outside. He didn’t even look his way. By the time he’d reached the stairs he heard Dan go into Mads office and ask if he could have a word. Which just proved to Ben what a sneaky little shit he was. Let him go to professional standards with a complaint; he’d tell them about the way he bullied new officers. Two could play that game.
Amy was sitting at her desk, sipping a large mug of tea. She nodded at him.
‘You have some visitors.’
‘Who?’
‘Some bigwigs from HQ. They’re in your office with a brew and biscuits. You can thank me later.’
He went into his office to see a DCI and a DC he vaguely knew from the Murder Investigation Team.
‘Morning, ladies.’
‘We’ve been sent down to lend a hand.’
‘By whom?’
‘You know the protocol, anything big and they call us in. Look, as far as we’re concerned you have everything under control. We can help get extra officers in to run the HOLMES system: they can input the information onto the system to be collated and pass out the relevant tasks it generates. Help with enquiries, that kind of thing. It’s not a pissing contest; there’s a dead family.’
‘I’m well aware of that, thank you. Well, your help would be great. How does it all work then?’
Both women looked at each other. They’d obviously thought he’d put up a fight.
‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Claire Williams and this is Detective Constable Abigail Walsh. We can run the HOLMES from HQ, and one of us can come down here and work to oversee the investigation. Feed back into it, offer you support. Come up with an investigative plan: everything you do, but it comes under the remit of the Murder Investigation Team.’
‘Sounds fair enough.’
Again, they glanced at each other; obviously not used to such a warm welcome, he thought to himself. He didn’t care. He could do his own thing. Morgan would do what he asked, and Amy rarely listened to anyone. She was always doing her own thing. The rest of the team could take up the slack and keep these two happy. As long as the three of them worked together on his little squad it would be fine.
‘There’s a briefing in the blue room in’ – glancing at his watch – ‘in an hour, that should give CSI a chance to get back. Is that okay with you both?’
They nodded.
‘Help yourselves to desks, whatever you need. Amy will sort you out.’
‘Thank you, that’s great,’ said Claire, the older-looking of the two.
If Ben had to choose, he’d say that Abigail would get the short straw and have to work down here with his team. Claire would pull rank, make the younger detective drive here every day.
He stood up. ‘Can I get you another drink?’
They both shook their heads.
‘Excuse me while I go make one then, I need coffee.’
He left them in his office and walked back into the larger one, where Amy was staring at Morgan, who had arrived, hair damp and out of uniform.
‘You found us then, bet you feel better after that shower.’
Amy swivelled her head to look at him.
Morgan smiled. ‘I do. I don’t like the smell of blood, especially when it’s dried on your clothes and every time you inhale it’s there.’
‘Amy, Morgan is going to be working alongside you for the foreseeable. She’s on a three-month attachment.’
‘I’m so excited to be able to work with you. I always wanted to be a detective.’
Amy glared at Ben. He was doing a great job of upsetting everyone he spoke with today.
‘Morgan, the first job, and probably one of the most important, is to learn where the brew cupboard is. Mine’s a strong coffee, two sugars. Help yourself to whatever. Amy drinks tea by the bucket, strong with no sugar.’
‘Amy, do you want a fresh drink?’
‘No, I’m good thanks, Morgan. I’ll show you where we keep our stuff. And he might be in charge, but he’s capable of making his own drinks, aren’t you, boss?’
‘Of course I am.’
‘So, only make him one if you want one yourself.’
Amy stood up and led Morgan out into the corridor to where the small kitchen was. He gave them a couple of moments then followed.
‘Look, I wanted you out here so I could tell you what’s happening without those two listening.’
‘And what’s that, boss?’
‘Those two are going to be running the investigation: one from HQ, the other from here.’
Amy crossed her arms, a look of anger flashing across her face. ‘What about us?’
‘We’ll do what we usually do, and then feed back to them. It’s complicated, so I’m not going to argue wit
h them. I’m not stupid enough to turn down any extra help when we’re so thin on the ground, but you run everything through me first before you go to them.’
‘Fine by me.’
He looked at Morgan, who looked even more perturbed than she had earlier. ‘Morgan, is that okay with you?’
‘Yes, of course, Sarge. I don’t know what I’m doing though.’
Amy laughed. ‘To be fair neither do we. We’ve been winging it for years. You’ll be fine, as long as you use your common sense.’
‘Ah, well I have that in buckets. Thanks, I’ll give it a go.’
They left Morgan making two mugs of coffee and went back into the office where Claire and Abigail had set themselves up at desks with their laptops.
Seventeen
Morgan followed Amy to the blue room, which was actually painted an unusual shade of pink, and took a seat at the large table. There was a huge television screen, and a camera which kept moving around the room. Abigail, Claire and Wendy filed in, followed by everyone else and took a seat. The room was mirrored on the television screen. Morgan hated seeing herself on camera, she rarely took selfies, so every time it swung around to her she bowed her head, feeling self-conscious. Her hair was frizzy after her shower; there was only a hose in the ladies’ changing rooms to dry your hair with and it didn’t give it the smooth, straightened effect she preferred. Ben came in last, walked straight over to the camera and turned it off. Her shoulders dropped, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
‘No need to scare ourselves with that, it’s bad enough looking at you all in the flesh.’
Laughter filled the room. Amy had her laptop open and was logging herself onto the system.
‘For the benefit of today’s new additions to the team I’ll do a brief introduction.’ He went around the room and let each person speak.
