by Faith Martin
‘No, sir,’ Hillary said, and rose to her feet. She turned to Sale, ‘It’s good to meet you, sir. I think we’ll work well together.’
‘Likewise.’ Sale shook the hand she held out, smiling widely. ‘And I don’t see why not.’
Both men watched her leave, then Sale slowly leaned back in his chair. ‘So that was Hillary Greene. My senior investigating officer. Impressive.’
Steven nodded. Then caught Sale’s eye, and hid a sigh. He wasn’t looking forward to this next bit, because, like most men, he never liked having to explain himself or his actions. And, also like most men, he never felt comfortable discussing personal matters. But it had to be done.
‘I’m not sure if you’re aware of it, but if not, perhaps you should be. Hillary is also my partner. I mean, we’re an item,’ he added, somewhat awkwardly, since even he didn’t know, really, how he could best describe what he and Hillary had together.
Roland Sale slowly nodded. ‘Yes. I had heard some station-house gossip to that effect,’ he said carefully. Then smiled. ‘Congratulations. She is, as I said, very impressive.’
Steven smiled slightly. ‘I think so. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about how it works around here. I’ve never given her any special treatment, and you don’t have to either. We are both, and always have been, professionals, first and foremost.’
‘I never thought otherwise,’ Sale said, meeting his gaze levelly. Although he had, of course, wondered. But now that he’d had a chance to see for himself just how things were, he felt himself relaxing marginally. Besides, once Steven Crayle was gone, the CRT, and how Sale chose to run it, would be no concern of his.
‘So now you just leave her to get on with it?’ Sale asked, sensing the younger man’s unease, and getting back to business.
‘Basically, yes. She’ll report back and I’ll supervise, and have my say of course. But with an officer of her calibre, my input is rarely needed. But since I, and soon you, will be the only one to have the actual authority to instigate power of arrest, whenever she needs to charge someone, it’ll be up to us to make the actual collar. She is, remember, a civilian now, even though to all intents and purposes, you think of her as your DI. Then, of course, we have to baby sit the case through the courts, but you know how that goes.’ His lips twisted, and Sale grimaced.
‘Oh yes. Pray for a good prosecutor.’
Steven grunted an assent. ‘And in the meantime, we get on with supervising our other on-going cases. Most of these are serial rapists, burglars, arsonists and what have you. And we get on to the majority of them via the computer boffins who’ve set up data bases and computer programmes designed to pick out recurring patterns and cross-reference, wherever possible, DNA matches and MOs.’
Steven got up and pushed away from his desk, Sale following suit. ‘And that all takes place in the biggest room we have in this warren. So it’s time to introduce you to the forensics people and assorted computer experts. Rumour has it that some of them have lost the use of their eyes and developed bat-like radar, since they hardly ever venture out into the daylight, but don’t let that scare you.’
Sale laughed. ‘I’ll try not to.’
As Detective Superintendent Sale got to grips with how the bulk of work in the CRT was done, Hillary Greene returned to the small communal office, and set about organizing the troops.
‘Right you lot, we’ve got another murder case. Wendy, can you get on to records and make sure they send all the hard-copy boxes and folders up here.’ She handed her the paperwork with the case-file number on it. ‘And then I’m afraid you and Jake are going to have the usual major sorting-out job on your hands.’
‘Great!’ Wendy said, and then frowned. ‘Not the major sorting-out job, I mean, that’s always a pain. But another murder case! Yay!’ She thrust one fist into the air.
Hillary smiled. ‘Glad to hear you’re so enthusiastic. Let’s hope you can say the same come five o’clock this afternoon. I want you and Jake to sort out the timeline, witness statements and forensics, all in order. The original SIO is out of the picture, I’m afraid, so all we’ve got to go on is her records. Jake, you’re the computer whiz and organizational genius – by tomorrow morning, we need to have the bulk of what we need at our fingertips.’
‘Guv.’
Hillary turned to Jimmy and hid a wink. ‘Jimmy, my office. And bring some coffee, will you?’
‘Guv.’
Hillary returned to her cubby hole and cleared a corner of her desk, and was perched with her bottom firmly on it, leaving the sole chair free for Jimmy when he came in, holding two mugs.
She took hers and nudged the chair with one foot. Jimmy sat down gratefully.
‘So, what’s the Boy Wonder been up to then?’ she asked softly.
Jimmy blew across the top of his mug and took a tentative sip. It was still too hot.
He settled back into his chair and looked at his guv’nor thoughtfully. He’d been keeping an eye on Jake Barnes for some time now, and had begun to think that maybe Hillary had got it wrong about the lad after all. He certainly hadn’t come back to HQ after hours in order to hack Hillary’s computer again, that was for sure. And apart from a few visits to some nightclubs, and to see an older woman that Jimmy had later discovered was his mum, he hadn’t been doing anything to cause them alarm.
Until yesterday. And now Jimmy had to hand it to his boss. The lad was definitely keeping secrets.
‘He went to visit Crimmins & Lloyd. Know ‘em?’ he asked succinctly.
Hillary frowned. The name rang a bell … ‘Not solicitors?’
‘That PI outfit, guv. You know, last year, the ones who got the gen on that tabloid journalist who was later done for phone hacking.’
Hillary sighed heavily. ‘Right. A two-man outfit, one ex-army, intelligence probably, and the other one who used to work for a big London firm that specialized in industrial espionage. Plenty of financial backing from some source or other not obviously apparent, so they’re not short of a bob or two, and a reputation for getting results on even the toughest of jobs. And discretion guaranteed.’
‘That’s them,’ Jimmy said laconically. Like most coppers, he had little use for private eyes. Unlike the species usually found in pulp American fiction, the real-life johnnies were usually nothing more than a pain in the police service’s collective arse. But this pair, even he had to grudgingly admit, had clout. And expertise.
Hillary sighed. ‘This pair know what they’re doing at any rate,’ she echoed his thoughts unerringly, ‘and as such, they wouldn’t have come cheap.’
‘But our lad can afford them, can’t he?’ Jimmy pointed out.
‘I don’t suppose you were able to find out what he wanted them for?’ Hillary said, without much hope.
‘Didn’t even try to find out, guv, not without reporting back to you first,’ Jimmy admitted with a shrug. ‘First off, I reckon there’s no way that I could have scoped them out without getting caught. They’ve got cctv at their offices that would give our people wet dreams.’
Hillary nodded. ‘No, you’re right, of course. And if we tried to approach one of their receptionists or secretaries with a view of having a quiet chat, they’d be bound to report back to their bosses. Outfits like Crimmins & Lloyd can afford to pay their people top money. And with that comes loyalty. And the last thing we need is for Jake to realize we’re on to him.’
‘So, the question is,’ Jimmy said, taking a gulp of his coffee, ‘what does our lad want finding out so badly, that he’d hire the A-team to find it for him?’
Hillary sighed and shrugged. But she had the feeling that they’d soon be finding out. ‘Well, continue to keep an eye on him. But don’t lose sleep over it,’ she added, somewhat guiltily, ‘you’re already going above and beyond, as it is, Jimmy.’
Jimmy grinned at her over the steaming mug. ‘Truth is, guv, nowadays I don’t need as much shut-eye as I used to, so I don’t mind sitting obbo. Besides, it’s more entertaining than anything t
hat’s on the goggle box nowadays.’
‘You should be at least getting overtime,’ Hillary said. But they both knew that was just pie in the sky. If they were to find out what Jake Barnes was up to, they’d have to do it off their own bat. And out of their own pocket.
‘No worries guv,’ Jimmy assured her. Like Hillary, he was too intrigued by what the Boy Wonder was up to, to care about a little thing like getting paid.
CHAPTER THREE
The next morning, Jake Barnes was in early, blissfully unaware that his savvy boss suspected anything. He’d spent a long and productive day yesterday, beavering away along with Wendy copying and up-dating the Sylvia Perkins case, and he was anxious now to get a few hours’ reading in. He wanted to get a good handle on the evidence before Hillary Greene started testing his mettle.
Although he didn’t regard Wendy as serious competition, he was determined to keep his job and make progress in it. It was vital that he made himself indispensable, and impressed Hillary Greene. What’s more, if he wanted to challenge Jimmy Jessop for the position of her right-hand man – and he did – he knew he had to earn his spurs, and fast.
So when Hillary walked past the open office door at 8.30, she saw his dark head bent industriously over the files and, with a slight, enigmatic smile, walked on to her office. There she spent an hour catching up on general admin, and making sure that she had everything she needed for the day at her fingertips before heading to the communal office.
Like the rest of her team, she’d spent the previous day acquainting herself with DI Jarvis’s investigation of the murder, and now it was time to give the paperwork a rest and get active in the field, always the best part of the job. But should she reward Jake for his obvious hard work, or give free rein to Wendy’s enthusiasm?
She paused in the doorway, but it was Jimmy who looked up at her first. Despite his protestations of yesterday that he didn’t mind the extra work that keeping an eye on the Boy Wonder entailed, he had to smother a yawn. So that was one less decision she had to make – it was a cold and raw day, and the old sergeant deserved an easy ride.
She smiled at him briefly. ‘OK, Jimmy, I want you to spend today in the office with the experts. See if they can find any similar MOs that fit the Perkins case. It’s possible that she might be one in a series. Perhaps even the first.’
Jimmy nodded. ‘Guv.’
‘But we’d have heard, surely, if any other old ladies had been killed, wouldn’t we?’ Wendy asked, with a small frown. ‘I mean, I know it’s a bad old world and all that, but if many other old ladies had been bashed to death, they’d have made some sort of headlines, wouldn’t they? And if they didn’t, they bloody well should have,’ she added hotly.
Hillary nodded. ‘Yes, they would,’ she said, amused and a little touched by the youngster’s passion, and went on to explain patiently what Jimmy had instantly surmised. ‘But that wasn’t exactly what I was asking Jimmy to find out. Of course we’d know if we had a serial killer on our hands – alarm bells would have rung well before now if there’d been a spate of killings similar to that of Sylvia Jenkins. But one of the most obvious lines of inquiry that we have to follow is that of a robbery gone wrong. Now we know from the files that nothing was missing from Sylvia’s house as far as her family and friends were able to tell,’ she swept on, before Wendy, who’d just opened her mouth to say it, could point that out, ‘and we know at the time that DI Jarvis’s team couldn’t find any evidence of any individual or gang targeting the elderly in remote rural spots, but it’s just possible that Sylvia was the first. So just say for argument’s sake, that she was, and whoever broke into her home had the fright of his or her life, and for a while was scared into lying low. That would have meant that they’d have stayed off Jarvis’s radar maybe for the whole term of her investigation. But since a good few years have now passed, if some light-fingered sod had merely intended to rob her but ended up killing her instead, it’s highly likely that he, she or they would have felt safe enough by now to pick up where they left off. And that would leave a trail for us to follow.’
‘So you want me to look out for any elderly people, male or female, living alone, and in small country villages, who were robbed or burgled of their valuables,’ Jimmy took up today’s lesson. ‘And if any of them were assaulted. If so, make special note of it if they were hit around or about the head.’
‘Right,’ Hillary said. ‘It’s a chore and a long shot, but we’d look like incompetent idiots if we didn’t follow it up. And then, when you’ve done that, you can ask them for a list of known thieves who like to mug the elderly out on the street, and who were active around the time of Sylvia’s death. And why do I want him to do that?’ she tossed out into the room in general, but it was Jake Barnes who leapt on it.
‘Escalation,’ he said flatly. ‘Muggers are usually junkies desperate to get cash for a fix. Consequently, they’re not very well organized. But some aren’t addled by drink or drugs, and are more calculating, and could have upgraded to following possible victims in the hope that a home invasion would net them more profit. Jewellery, small, easily portable valuables and so on.’
Hillary nodded. ‘Yes. And if Jimmy and the boffins can find some likely candidates who were actively mugging old ladies at the time of Sylvia’s murder, we need to know about it. Jimmy, there are bound to be quite a few names on a list like that, so you can follow them up. Getting alibis for them after five years won’t be easy, but give it a try. You never know, one of them might make your copper’s nose itch.’ It was the type of thing that needed an experienced copper, and could be done at Jimmy’s own pace, and at his own convenience.
Jimmy nodded. ‘Guv.’
Although Hillary was privately pretty sure that the Perkins case was going to turn out to be a far more personal and a strictly one-off affair, she couldn’t afford not to cover all her bases.
‘Wendy, I want you to drive out to the village and do a canvas for me. Find out who’s still alive and living in the area, and set up interview times for them.’
‘Right, guv. Do you want me to take photos of the house and surrounding area as well? I’ve got a great digital camera on my phone.’
‘Sure, why not? ’ Hillary said, although what possible use they could be she wouldn’t like to say. But there was just something of the eager young puppy about the Goth that would have made her feel guilty if she’d slapped her down.
‘Jake, you’re with me. We’re going to start by interviewing her family, and we might as well start with the eldest daughter.’
‘Guv,’ Jake said with alacrity.
Wendy, who would have liked that job far better, taunted good-naturedly under her breath as he passed her. ‘Swot! Teacher’s pet,’ and something far less complimentary. Jake, who had good hearing, as did Hillary, grinned at her in passing, and flipped her a friendly finger.
Wendy stuck her tongue out.
Hillary hid a sigh. It was going to be one of those days.
In Jake Barnes’s lush and lovely E-type Jaguar, Hillary leaned back in the cream leather passenger seat and let the scenery fly by as they headed towards Minster Lovell, the village where Sylvia’s oldest daughter now lived with her second husband.
Her mind, however, was not so much on the upcoming interview as it was on Steven Crayle. Just a month ago, she’d been sure that he was about to break up with her. She’d sensed that small but inescapable shift in his behaviour that told her something had changed in their relationship. It was true enough, but she’d been wrong about the cause of it. Far from trying to gently disentangle himself from her and her life, he’d asked her if he could become a much bigger part of it instead.
Which had totally thrown her.
Hillary shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but she was not one to shirk painful thoughts. When she’d thought he was going to end their affair, she’d found it surprisingly hurtful. She’d thought herself old enough and mean enough not to get snared up in anything too emotionally dangerous. And yet, she
’d found the idea of not seeing him again, of not having him sleep over on her narrowboat, of not spending weekends with him, walking, or simply chatting and relaxing together, almost paralysing.
So when he’d asked her to marry him, she’d been unprepared for it. Instead, in her mind, she’d already been rehearsing the words that would save her pride and face, and allow him to wiggle free. She’d had her big, “It’s OK, I’m a big girl now, I can handle it, so so long and don’t let the door hit you on the bum on the way out” speech all set and ready to go.
So she’d been left, almost literally speechless, when he’d asked her if she’d ever given any serious thought to them getting married.
After a while she’d managed to croak out something – something no doubt inane and inadequate. She seemed to have some vague idea that she’d said that she hadn’t really given it much thought, and that it was a serious step, and something that shouldn’t be rushed into and needed careful consideration. And all the while, he’d continued to smile at her, that small, slightly sad smile, that made her feel like squirming inside.
Because she knew what he’d been thinking, of course. What he must have been thinking, and probably still was. That, after the débâcle of her first marriage, she was so wary of ever trusting another man again, that he’d been a fool to even ask her.
Ronnie Greene. She’d been so young when she’d met, fallen for, and married Ronnie Greene. She’d been a newly promoted DS, and he’d been a DI in a different division. Good looking, popular, with a reputation for being a shade brutal, a shade canny, he’d turned out instead to be utterly bent, and a serial womanizer as well.
He’d made her life miserable for nearly seven years. She’d been in the process of divorcing him when he’d been killed in a road-traffic accident, and had saved her the bother. Of course, by then, he’d been under investigation by an internal review board for serious corruption. For years he’d been amassing a small fortune from bribes and kick-backs, and who knew what else. He’d also organized a lucrative animal-parts smuggling operation using contacts he’d made over the years in the criminal underworld .
