by M. C. Dutton
She had got everything very much under her control including the officers there. Four mugs of tea and some biscuits were found and Sharon updated them on the CCTV so far. “We have just reached a dead end I am afraid,” she told them. “Once you get past Woodford Green, the CCTV stops as you reach Epping Forest. Epping town has CCTV and there is no sight of them. We lost them on the road between Woodford Green and Epping town. It’s one hell of a big area.” Even the chocolate digestives didn’t help, it felt like they were swallowing glass. The depression lasted a few minutes until one officer found a good picture of the men in the car as they waited by traffic lights in Woodford Green. He had blown it up so the occupants could be seen clearly.
They spotted Tony in the back sitting in the middle of two men. The driver was very clear. None of the faces were known and all they could tell was they were Asian. Jazz recognised the driver as one of the men in the warehouse. It felt like a bolt had hit him in his stomach. They had said they had killed Tony and there was one of them as clear as day in the car with him. Everyone present felt charged with an unbelievable need to find their man as quickly as possible. A copy of the picture was sent to facial mapping to see if any one of them was on record there or with Interpol. It would take time but hopefully answers could be found by the evening. Computers made the process much quicker. The picture was emailed to London immediately.
The interesting part of the CCTV that Sharon wanted to show them was that after an hour, the same Land Rover was picked up on CCTV coming back along the Woodford Green road. A good picture was chosen and blown up; although a bit blurred, it showed only three men in the car. It wasn’t very clear, but everyone thought that it was Tony who was missing in the picture. The Land Rover was still being tracked by the CCTV operators and it was thought this would take some time. For now, they knew that Tony had disappeared between Woodford Green and Epping town Centre. Everyone was in work mode and their adrenalin was roaring. They needed to find Tony now.
A team of officers was assigned to the road between Woodford Green and Epping town Centre. They now knew they were looking for a Land Rover and they had the number plate. It took only 10 minutes to be told that the number plate was false. Every turning off of the road was to be explored and minutely examined for tyre marks. It was a huge job because there were many off road parking places that cars could take, some were official car parks and some were easy off roads, which many a courting couple would make use of. It was thought that Epping Forest at night might be responsible for at least 10% of babies conceived in the Essex area. DCI Johnny Radley got on the phone again and asked for more officers and a coordinator to make sure any evidence found wasn’t fucked up.
Jazz wanted to go out there with the officers to find Tony. Being stuck in this office was very frustrating and maddening. It was still possible that Tony was alive and just held somewhere out there in the forest. He didn’t really believe it, but for the time being, he wanted to believe it very much. He was about to ask DCI Radley if he could go with the officers. Sensing such a question, Johnny Radley put his hand up to warn Jazz to not even ask. “We have the mobile phone signal to get now.”
A clatter of heels made them turn to see an excited Sharon, barely containing her glee, enter the room. She had the arm of a tall lanky streak of a man with hair that badly needed cutting. “This is Devlin and he has some interesting news for us.”
They all sat up straight and looked intently at this 20-something man who was now very embarrassed to have such an audience. He flopped around and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Get on with it, man,” was the abrupt order from DCI Radley.
“Oh yes, of course, please excuse me,” was the muddled response as Devlin gathered himself together. Before another, more robust reprimand came his way, Devlin took a deep breath and started. “We have found the phone, well what I actually mean is that we are fairly clear on where the mobile phone might be. That’s not to say we know in centimetres where the phone is, more within a radius of half a kilometre.”
They looked at each other and Jazz piped up, “What the bloody hell does that mean, Devlin?”
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut and this made Devlin very anxious indeed. He started to trip over his words again, not knowing where to start or where to finish. This was new technology for the Met. Though it had been around for a while, the ability to home in so closely was a new achievement to be pinned to the coat of the Science and Technology Department. Devlin knew his stuff, he was the bright spark who had helped build the department’s reputation in the country. To those working in the field, the saying was ‘If you need to know, ask Devlin.’ Devlin’s one big downfall was his inability to explain his genius to anyone else.
He had joined the Met as a lab rat. Before long, it was noticed that he had hidden his immense talent for technology behind an enormous bush. Technology had moved with leaps and bounds, which had caused many experts in the Metropolitan Police Technology and Science Departments to struggle to keep up. It seemed like criminals were always one step ahead, always finding ways to manipulate technology to their advantage. One of the prime examples of this was the Securicor vans.
Theft of the money boxes had stopped when a green dye coated anyone who illegally opened a money box. For a while, a policeman’s lot was a very happy one. It didn’t take long to find villains who had robbed Securicor vans and opened the money boxes. The green dye was all over them and no amount of washing could get rid of it. It turned villains into Jolly Green Giants, as officers called them. Securicor vans, for some time, were safe. Then a way was found to open the money boxes and not trigger the green dye. Again, it was open season on Securicor vans and other ways of foiling villains had to be found.
Devlin had left university a clever young man with a 2:1 degree but with little idea of how to apply his skills. A chance comment from his father, who worked for the Met police, took him down the route to the Technology and Science Department. It didn’t take long for his superiors to notice this young man who regularly could be found doggedly working on a problem, often until late in the evening, and coming up with a solution. After two years, he was given his own office and team who worked on specific problems handed to them. Where others struggled to maintain the huge developments in technology, Devlin embraced each and every challenge and his skills grew at the same time as technology grew. He liaised with his contacts in British Telecom over mobile signals but only through his computer. He rarely met anyone.
Devlin loved his job and had found his goal in life; he embraced technology in all its forms and understood it in a way others couldn’t. He devoted his work time and a lot of his personal time to solving any problem the Met threw at him. His reputation soared and he became the darling of his department, but at the same time, his personal development and social life plummeted.
The consequences of such devotion to duty and the pursuit of technological results was that Devlin someone became who seemed to have lost the skill of interacting socially and verbally with other human beings. If he had his way, he would only send reports to be read and never have to actually deal with people. He had got his own way for most of his working career but today the DCI wanted to talk to him in person.
Tracking people using mobile phones was fairly new and for some time had been quite haphazard in just how helpful it was. Devlin had worked in this area for a while, narrowing the margins of error. For a while now a mobile phone could be detected quite easily using a radius of five to ten miles, which was helpful. To be able to detect within 100 metres was very useful. DCI Radley wanted to hear from Devlin what the actual position was regarding the mobile phone that belonged to DC Tony Sepple. Sharon had made sure he came along and explained it to all present.
Phased by being asked to get on with it, Devlin went into the only mode he could function clearly in and that was technical mode. After two minutes of oscillations and projections, and more technical jargon that went over the heads of everyone present, the restlessness
and frustration was getting loud. Jazz, seeing that the chap in front of them was totally dysfunctional tried to prize answers out of him that might be helpful to them. The only question on everyone’s lips was where is the bloody phone now? A map had been put on the wall of the area around the road from Woodford Green to Epping. Jazz took him to the map and asked him to pinpoint where the phone could be found.
After much flapping and qualification of data, Devlin was pushed into reluctantly giving them an answer. If he had seen the frustrated rage only just contained by officers behind him, he would have fled the room. The tension was now at breaking point and, with a deep sigh, Devlin pushed away his technical demons, which under normal circumstances would not have allowed such an unsubstantiated analysis, and put a pin in the map just off the Epping Road. He protested that this was an educated guess and by no means certain due to fluctuations in the satellite being used but by now everyone had left the room and was on the phone to various strategic officers at the scene.
Sniffer dogs highly trained in finding bodies had already been marshalled and were on their way to Epping, the heat-seeking helicopter was making another pass over the area and so far nothing had been found. Jazz, Tom and DCI Johnny Radley were heading for the nearest police car to take them to the site. Sharon was told to stay put and get on with the CCTV. Hurriedly, Jazz added that she was doing a grand job and they couldn’t do without her working on this. He shouted as he dashed for the car that she was responsible for getting them this far in finding Tony and she should be proud. She wasn’t, she felt it was her fault Tony was in this dangerous, possibly fatal, position. She did appreciate Jazz throwing her a crumb of comfort and worth though.
When their police car halted as near to where the pin had been put as was possible the tyres smelt of burnt rubber and the blue flashing light was still turning in a giddy fashion. The whole area was teeming with police officers and cars. The distant barking told them the sniffer dogs had arrived and seemed to be excitedly working beyond the trees. The press were there in convoy with TV cameras pointed in every direction and flashes from photographers causing Jazz momentary blindness as he got out of the car and saw them all pushing, shouting and calling for them to make comments. The press were just about held back by a thin cordon placed across the road and four policemen. It was bedlum and DCI Johnny Radley told officers in no uncertain terms to push them all back to Woodford. Why the hell they were so far down this road was beyond him and evidence could be lost because of them. A police van arrived packed with TGI men. “Thank God the Trojans have arrived,” Jazz muttered to Tom. The beefy men were used to dealing with difficult and dangerous crowds. They all jumped out of the van and began pushing the press back along the Epping Road. The shouts of freedom of the press and grumbling and curses could be heard for some time. They all heard the sound of the many car and bike engines starting and then a calm descended as the press were escorted back to Woodford Green.
They had a way to walk. The road block didn’t allow any cars beyond the point of a mile past Woodford Green. There was still a mile to walk to the epicentre of where Devlin thought the mobile phone might be located. They could see officers on either side of the road working in formation to ensure any clues they might find would not be overlooked. It was a painstaking task and many off-duty police officers had volunteered to help. It was a huge area to cover and by now there were 200 police officers combing Epping Forest for DC Tony Sepple. They could hear megaphones being used to ensure groups of officers were walking in the right direction. The sweep of officers was tight and well orchestrated. Everyone wanted to do their bit to help and policemen and women from different regions worked alongside local officers.
Jazz, Tom and DCI Radley marched swiftly down the middle of the Epping Road, watching everything going on. They carried a radio and a voice told them that a more intensive search was happening in the next off road track on their right. They hurried to get there, fearful that they might miss something of importance. They knew which track it was by the police officers crowding around the that part of the road.
A call from a dog handler made them run towards a clearing. The three sniffer dogs were all straining on their leads to get close to a tree stump and were barking excitedly. There was something buried under the tree stump lying casually across the ground. The dogs were trained to sniff out dead bodies; Jazz hoped it was a dog or something buried there, the alternative made him feel sick.
Someone got a shovel and two officers were called to move the tree stump and branches attached. Everyone standing in the glade held their breath and waited. Tom interrupted the silence as they watched the branch being shifted and inappropriately whispered to Jazz,“If he is here then that fucker Devlin isn’t just bollocks for brains after all.” If it had been any other situation, Jazz might have laughed, but now was not a good time and he was intent on willing it not to be Tony’s body.
It took ages for the branch to be shifted; it had something to do with the shape. The two men wielded it as best they could but for those watching, the frustration of just wanting to see it off that space was becoming unbearable. The huffs and puffs as the two men exerted themselves to move the weight and the awkwardness of the thinner but longer branches was mirrored by those watching. No one could step in and help because the area around and beneath the huge branch needed to be protected. The idea was that the men should pick up the stump and offending branches. The area underneath was not to be disturbed but the branches were soft and wanted to sweep the area as the stump was lifted. Another officer was brought in to help by holding part of the branches up. No one wanted to walk on the area that might contain a body. The slow process was painful to watch. Eventually, the three men coordinated their holds and on a count of three, hoisted the stump and branches off the floor. They moved quickly to one side and put the stump down well away from the freshly dug area.
The dogs were barking excitedly and straining on their leashes but they were held back from the spot. They all stood around the potential grave in silence and were about to make a decision on what to do next when they heard a female voice shouting from the road. “Don’t touch a fucking thing otherwise you will be wearing your bollocks for earrings.”
Jazz wondered if that woman was ever off duty. He shouted, “Hello, Jenny, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” She gave him a curt wave and told him to fuck off.
She stomped into the glade with her heavy bag. She rested beside Jazz and just looked at the area before her. She whispered to him that she was off duty but when one of her boys was missing, she was on duty all the time. His eyes pricked for a second. This hard-bitten woman who had seen everything filthy and gruesome done to a human being was quite sweet in her earnestness. He wanted to just hug her, more for himself than her. He needed some comfort. Sensing this, she stroked his arm absent-mindedly as she surveyed the scene. With a sigh, she started to shout her orders. Her assistant was close by and he caught the brunt of her threats to do the bloody thing right this time. After a bit of grumbling about too many feet disturbing the area, she told the two officers with spades to bloody get on with it.
They dug for a surprisingly short time. The body wasn’t buried deep. If it had been left a day or so longer, the animals would have dug him out. For yes, it was a him, as the suit implied. He had been shot in the head three times and most of his face was missing. Jenny’s professionalism never faltered. She looked the body over quickly to estimate what had happened to cause death. It was pretty obvious to anyone looking. One bullet through the eye which came out the back of the head, another in the side of the head which exited by the ear and a third bullet smashed his nose, spread his face all over the place and exited the back of head. Jenny raised her head, looked around and shouted out, “I need someone to clear this area and start to look for the bullets; they should be on the ground somewhere. All bullets exited the head and were fired at close range. If you find one, don’t bloody touch it, just call me over.” A mortuary van w
as called for and whilst waiting, a rudimentary search of the victim’s pockets was made. It looked like it could be Tony but the face was unrecognisable.
Sharon had arrived and stood in the clearing crying. She knew it was Tony. The suit and the shirt and tie were his. All her professionalism disappeared and she took herself off to the car to sob. A cigarette was hastily lit for her by an officer standing nearby. Jazz, ashen by now, walked into the woods for a few seconds. He needed a drink badly and reached for his flask. He drank deeply without tasting. The after effect left him breathless and warm. He didn’t know what to do now. He walked over to Sharon and sat in the car with her. He lit her a cigarette and watched her smoking like it had gone out of fashion. He lit her another cigarette. She threw the stub out of the car and dragged heavily on the new cigarette. Her hands were shaking and she couldn’t talk. They both cried in silence.
After a while, the door to the BMW police car was prised open and Boomer stuck his head in. “Ok you two, there is work to do, get a move on and stop fannying about. We have bastards to catch.” The words motivated them both to get out of the car and search for DCI Johnny Radley. He was found shouting orders to every officer within the vicinity. He told everyone in no uncertain terms that the area was to be combed and any clues there were to be found were found pronto! The actual track had not been walked on, every officer and person involved in finding Tony’s body had walked on the edges so the tyre marks were still evident. There was no doubt they would belong to the Land Rover seen on the CCTV but no stone would be left unturned. The mortuary van had arrived and the body was taken carefully to the van and off for a post mortem. A subdued Jenny promised the results in the morning.
