by Wonny Lea
The two men had been sitting on opposite sides of the large desk that took up one corner of the chief superintendent’s office on the top floor of Goleudy. As they moved towards the small table and two easy chairs at the other end of the room, the door opened and two mugs of coffee on a tray seemed almost to float towards them.
Martin laughed. ‘Now that’s what I call power! I have to ask for coffee, or get my own, but you only have to think about it and it appears.’
The young woman who was responsible for the arrival of the coffee smiled at Martin. ‘No power or magic involved on this one, just the fact that it’s eleven o’clock and the superintendent is a creature of habit. Your take it black and strong with no milk or sugar – is that right?’
‘Brilliant, thanks.’
Martin took both mugs of coffee and even before he had placed them on the table he heard the door close behind her and he and the super sat down. Colin Atkinson had a smug grin on his face and Martin raised an enquiring eyebrow in his direction.
‘We need more women at the senior level of this organisation. They already head up some of our key departments, and of course we have our chief constable, but I’d like to see more at DI and DCI level. I’m just thinking of all the brilliant women who work here. There’s Jackie my PA, who you just met, Iris who manages the staff dining room and mothers everybody, including me, and there’s Mrs Williams who manages Professor Moore. I’m thinking of applying to the Royal Mint to get a medal struck for her.
‘Speaking of brilliant women staff, how is Mrs Griffiths coping with her pregnancy? I spent a few hours with her during my induction week when I first arrived in Cardiff and it’s the measure of the woman that although I got to learn a lot about her family, I was never subjected to any negativity regarding her need to be in a wheelchair.’
Martin nodded. ‘Charlie is one of the most upbeat people I have ever met, The only time I’ve ever heard her raise any question about her health was in the early stages of her pregnancy when she self-diagnosed narcolepsy. That was until she discovered that falling asleep at any time of the day is pretty common in the first trimester, and then she enjoyed swapping amusing stories in the antenatal clinic. She’s a real tonic, and to answer your question, mother-and-baby-to-be are apparently coping very well.’
The chief superintendent sat back and took on a more businesslike demeanour. ‘And now it’s my turn to answer some of your questions about the role I have in mind for you. I understand and appreciate your desire to remain at the sharp end of the business, and it’s because of your success in closing cases that I want you to head up a new venture. I’m not going to call it a department or section because I don’t anticipate it being a permanent feature. As you know, we already have a department that constantly reviews unsolved crimes and cold cases, but one of the reasons I got my current job was because I suggested a different approach. Not to do away with what that team are doing, but to implement ad-hoc intervention on a grand scale.
‘You’re right in your assessment of the level of politics involved in the higher ranks of the force – it’s a constant factor, and fuelled by the almost daily reporting of the police failing to bring to justice the perpetrators of murders and other serious and violent crimes. Our figures here in Cardiff are no worse than other forces’, but they are increasing steadily and I’m on a mission to change that.
‘The new structure I’ve proposed will see fairly traditional teams of DIs, DSs, and DCs, and I’ve done a lot of work with John Evans regarding the deployment of named uniformed officers to each of the teams. It won’t always be possible because of shift patterns but there seems to be evidence that the results are better when the team members aren’t just thrown together, as they sometimes can be.’
Martin nodded. ‘Although my experience wouldn’t stand up to scientific scrutiny, I’d definitely support that theory. If I’m heading up an investigation into a serious crime, it’s always a relief to see uniformed officers whose personalities and skills I know, and they prefer to feel like part of the team and not optional extras.’
‘I will be taking a direct role in the assignment of particularly difficult or sensitive cases,’ Atkinson continued. ‘Where it’s appropriate I will allocate a DCI to the team, but generally they’ll work as movers and shakers when investigations aren’t progressing. I want us to be more focused, and I will juggle resources so that every effort is put into solving every crime and my objective is to ensure that no more cases are added to the files of UCOS.’
‘I’m with you on everything so far,’ said Martin. ‘What I’m still unclear about is my role.’
‘Walk with me, Martin,’ suggested the chief superintendent with something of a twinkle in his eye.
Somewhat puzzled Martin followed Atkinson out of his office and along the corridor that led to the opposite end of the top floor. Unusually, the door to this section of the building was locked but the chief superintendent, this time with a broad grin, opened it and stepped aside to allow Martin through.
‘Wow!’ exclaimed Martin. ‘We all knew something special was going on up here, but the biggest bets were on it being some sort of swanky facility for visiting dignitaries.’
He wandered around the state-of-the-art amenities, pressing buttons and examining some of the equipment. There were side rooms as well as the main room, and although Martin was loath to admit it he welcomed seeing a very large whiteboard alongside the latest in electronic presentation aids.
‘This area will be your baby, Martin,’ explained the chief superintendent. ‘Goleudy is already one of the most up-to-date facilities in the country but new criminal detection aids are constantly being trialled and I put us forward to be a national test centre. You can access all departments in Goleudy from this unit, but I’m the last person you’d want to demonstrate how everything works, and I think I can hear the arrival of someone who’s much more familiar with all the ins and outs of the technology.’
With that the main doors opened, but it wasn’t the low hum of the motor or the entrance of the wheelchair it powered that caught Martin’s attention – it was the beaming smile on the face of the occupant.
‘Like it?’ asked Charlie. ‘I’ve been spending so much time up here, even sneaking up after my normal working hours, Alex thinks I’m up to no good! If it wasn’t for my increasingly obvious pregnant state I think I would have been accused of having an affair.’ She laughed and looked down at her rounded abdomen. ‘Even Alex would find it difficult to believe anyone would fall for what will soon be a pumpkin on wheels, but as I was sworn to secrecy about this project I haven’t been to tell him anything.’
Chief Superintendent Atkinson walked towards the door. ‘I’ll leave you to it! Martin, I don’t want to set up regular progress meetings, but keep me up to speed and schedule a session when you think it’ll be useful – good luck!’
Charlie was already demonstrating how different bits of technology linked together but as the chief super left she looked up and they exchanged knowing smiles.
‘I really like that guy,’ she told Martin when she was sure Atkinson was out of earshot. ‘He’s no computer expert, and a lot like you in that he doesn’t understand the technology but he does know what he wants from it. I’ve been reined in several times when my suggestions for this place have been more like a personal wish-list and have included pieces of kit more fitting for the NASA space-station than Goleudy – but then you know me, I’m just a techy addict.’
Martin grinned and although he had the benefit of being able to walk on two legs he still had difficulty keeping up with Charlie as she whizzed around the room, randomly demonstrating how everything worked.
‘You’ll love this,’ she announced as with the press of a button a very large screen was revealed and Martin could see some sort of camera alongside it pointing towards him.
He looked puzzled. ‘What’s it do exactly? I don’t want to appear unimpressed, Charlie, but it just looks like a super-sized flat screen TV – is that
what it is?’
‘No,’ teased Charlie. ‘Think of it more as a porthole, but before I can demonstrate how it’s going to be of use to you I need to make a phone call.’
She took the opportunity of giving Martin a quick introduction to the links attached to the phone system before pressing number four on the standalone keypad and getting straight through to Mrs Williams.
Although Martin could only hear Charlie’s side of the conversation, it was obvious that the call had been expected and that both women knew what was going to happen next. If Mrs Williams was in on the operation then it was a pound to a penny that Professor Dafydd Moore was lurking somewhere in the background.
‘Watch,’ suggested Charlie as she directed a remote control towards the screen and brought it to life. Occupying most of the screen, and with scalpel in hand, the Prof looked up and Martin could not only see him but could hear him too.
‘The age of Big Brother has well and truly arrived, DCI Phelps. Now not even the sanctity of my own PM rooms is sacred, and you’ll be able to watch any post-mortems of interest to you without suffering the smell or the inconvenience of walking to the fourth floor. However, as you have just witnessed, it does need a phone call to Mrs Williams in order for the facility to be activated from our end – so we can just shut you off …’
In order to prove his point the Prof did just that and Charlie laughed.
‘He’s been brilliant regarding the installation of this technology and, well, you know what an old show-off he is, so not surprisingly he’s looking forward to doing a full show for you and whatever team is up here with you. Mrs Williams is a little more self-conscious but she’ll get used to it.
Martin nodded. ‘I take it the cameras and speakers mean that it’s a two-way arrangement and if necessary I can speak to him and ask questions about his findings? If he hadn’t been so quick to turn us off I’d have liked to ask about the post-mortem he is doing right now – I hadn’t heard of any new cases, but then I had a day’s leave yesterday and I’ve been on the fifth floor ever since I got here this morning.’
‘It’s probably Matt’s man who died on the train,’ suggested Charlie. ‘Rumour has it that what looked like a sad but natural death may be something more sinister, and our Matt is in charge of the investigation. Alex and I were talking about Matt last night actually. We thought he would be over the moon with his new promotion, but he’s not, is he? He seems a bit withdrawn and generally not happy with life. I know he’s still seeing Sarah so I think things are OK on that front, but he’s definitely not the Matt we know and love at the moment. I think I’d better cook him a supper and see what I can find out. It’s not that I’m nosy or anything – I just hate to see him unhappy.’
Martin raised an eyebrow at the very idea that Charlie could be considered nosy and thought that if Matt was having personal problems then they couldn’t be in better hands. He still had lots to ask about the new technology, but there was a more pressing task at hand.
‘Forget the speculative tour and instructions and give me a for-real example of how all this technology will help me solve an actual crime. The boxes of paperwork on the table there relate to a murder in Roath eleven years ago, and I’ve been asked to take a fresh look at it. I’ve had an initial trawl through the case notes and they are poorly presented. There’s not half the information I’d expect to see, and what’s there is all over the place.’
‘Easy-peasy,’ interrupted Charlie. ‘We’ve got a state-of-the-art scanner that, if I link it to a particular programme on the computer, will put all that stuff into date order – if that’s what you want. I tend to use dates whenever I’m trying to sort police files because it’s the one thing you can rely on. It must be drilled into every new constable, and it works, because I’ve never picked up a piece of paper in this place without the first piece of information being the date!’
Martin laughed as he recalled that even when he was just making rough notes the first thing he did was to put the date in the top right-hand corner. ‘Yes, that would be a good start, and it’d help me work through the case as if I’d been involved with the original investigation.’
It only took Charlie a couple of minutes to get a substantial batch of material scanned, and working from a twinned computer screen Martin was able to start transferring the data into a format he favoured. He had drawn three columns on the white board and was quickly filling the first column headed ‘Actual Facts’.
‘I wasn’t around when this murder was investigated, but I remember the publicity that surrounded it. The body was discovered by a couple of kids on their way to school, dumped on a piece of waste ground near Roath Park. The kids were a boy and a girl and at the time they discovered the body they were both ten years of age, so that would put them in their early twenties now. I wonder if they ever think about it?’
Martin suddenly realised that he was talking to himself as Charlie was totally engrossed and had only stopped sorting and scanning briefly to take a call from her husband. After checking with Martin she told Alex where to find her and assured him that he would be welcome to join her on the fifth floor, provided he brought a cappuccino and a cup of black, no sugar, for her companion.
‘So Martin’s with you, is he? What are you two up to?’ had been Alex’s reply.
‘Less of the questions and more of the coffee,’ was the last Martin heard before Charlie ended the call and returned to the job in hand.
It was a good ten minutes before they both looked up as the door opened and another tray of coffee sailed through the air, this time ably supported by Alex Griffiths, head of the SOC section.
‘Bloody Nora! What’s all this?’ Without pausing for breath or waiting for a reply he put down the tray and took in every aspect of the facilities with an eye trained to scrutinise crime scenes.
‘Should have known it would be technology and not another man that was stealing you away from me. There’s certainly enough here to keep even your techy brain amused. But what’s it all for?’
Alex’s last question was directed at Martin who went on to explain the operation that Chief Superintendent Atkinson had set up. Nodding his approval, Alex enthusiastically offered his support in relation to any re-investigations. His interest sharpened as he read the details that Martin had written in his first column.
‘I remember this one! It was the very week I joined the SOC team and although as a rookie I was basically just carting the equipment about, I was keen to learn. I was really disappointed when the case was technically closed with just about every question left unanswered. We never discovered the identity of the victim and I don’t remember a single clue in relation to the killer. It was the first time I had ever seen a victim at the scene of a crime, and if I close my eyes I can still see him – still see his mottled, naked body and what looked like a dark red, almost black necklace around his throat. Of course it wasn’t a piece of jewellery, it was where some kind of wire had been used to cut deep into his throat. He had in effect been garrotted, although as I recollect it the cause of death was asphyxia. He had drowned by inhaling his own blood.
‘When we arrived at the scene the body was partly covered with two coats and a couple of kids were being comforted by Sergeant Evans and a PC whose name I can’t recall. The boy and girl were wrapped in blankets, it was their coats giving the victim some dignity. Of course the kids were scared out of their wits but we were all impressed by their actions. Apparently the route they were taking to school didn’t attract many walkers, there was no real path and quite a lot of uneven ground to contend with.’
Alex looked further down Martin’s list and some of the detail refreshed his memory. ‘Yes, it was early on a Monday morning when the body was reported and the call was made from the small convenience shop nearby. Apparently Owen, the boy, agreed to wait with the body, while the girl, Erica, ran to the shop for help. What amazed us all was that it was a freezing cold morning but that hadn’t stopped the children giving up their coats to cover the neck and the
genitals of the dead man. We were all really impressed, and there was a whip-round in the staff canteen to raise the money to buy them some new coats and give them a bit of extra pocket money.
‘There were a few purists who moaned about how the kids had possibly contaminated a crime scene, but that was rubbish because their actions could easily be factored out of any SOC investigation.’
Martin listened with interest because this was an insight into the crime that he had never anticipated and one that could be more valuable than sifting through the paperwork, even with the help of Charlie’s technological miracles.
‘I don’t suppose you remember who did the post-mortem, do you? The style doesn’t fit Professor Moore’s, and there’s no way I could see Mrs Williams allowing such a flimsy report to leave her office.’
Alex shook his head. ‘I didn’t know any of the main players really well at that time, but Sergeant Evans should be able to help you out.’
‘There is a name, but it’s handwritten and I can’t make it out – and like you I wouldn’t recognise names from eleven years ago. Yes, I’ll speak to John, and he may be able to fill in some background details too.’
Charlie had finished what she was doing and beckoned Alex over for a guided tour of some of the less obvious features of the new setup.
The arrangements with Professor Moore’s department brought a smile to Alex’s face. ‘Matt would have liked a detached visit to the Prof’s domain rather than the stomach-churning session he had earlier. Thanks to the Prof’s meticulous examination he has a murder to investigate, and I’ve just come back from scrutinising a railway carriage where it seems that a man was killed with a lethal injection of something as yet unknown. I hope our efforts will produce more clues to today’s murder than they came up with in Roath eleven years ago.’
