Vengeance

by Price, Roger A

  ‘Ok, Harry.’

  ‘You go and grab some food; I’ll join you in the canteen shortly, after I’ve briefed the troops and got them all out on their inquiries.’

  Chapter Six

  It was nearly 8 am by the time Harry returned to the canteen. Vinnie had just finished a chest-clutcher – or Full English Breakfast, as the menu called it. He’d forgotten just how hungry he was; he hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours. Harry joined him at his table as he finished using a paper napkin. ‘I got you a brew, but it’ll be cold now, sorry.’

  ‘No worries, I’ve no time.’

  ‘How’d the briefing go?

  ‘Ok, I’ve sent most of the team up to assist at the crime scene, the quicker we can get Charlie’s body moved, the better. Then the HOLMES2 system can start spitting out some actions.’

  Vinnie knew that HOLMES was an anagram for “Home Office Large Major Enquiry System” set up after the advent of computers to ensure effective cross-referencing of information gathered during an investigation. It had been first brought in in the late seventies after the ‘Yorkshire Ripper’ murder enquiry. The mass murderer had been in the system several times before he became a suspect. Back then it had all been done using index cards. Hard to imagine that today, he thought.

  ‘Ok, Harry, I’m off to see the hire company now,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘That’s what I came to tell you, don’t bother. They’ve just rung in to report one of their motors missing. They thought it was an overdue return, but it looks as if it had been nicked from the company’s overflow car park two days ago. They only realised when they found the key-drop box screwed. Uniform are there now, as is a local detective, and CSI are going to have a look at the box, but don’t expect too much.’

  ‘Any other keys gone?’

  ‘Nope, just one set and one motor.’

  ‘CCTV?’

  ‘Yes, but a well-aimed brick nullified it.’

  ‘Damn.’

  ‘Damn indeed.’

  ‘Look, I’ve to go and front a press conference soon, why don’t you have a sniff around up at the murder scene instead?’

  ‘Will do, Harry.’

  Twenty minutes later Vinnie pulled up back at the industrial estate. The place displayed an uncomfortable calm in the daylight. There were numerous white-suited CSIs busying about, and one fire brigade tender was still on site, presumably damping down any smouldering ashes. As for the building itself, Vinnie didn’t hold out much hope of anything forensically significant coming out of it. More than half of what was combustible was gone. The main frame of the place was evident in an array of twisted metal girders. A uniform cop with a clipboard got out of a marked police car as Vinnie approached on foot; the cop was obviously maintaining a Scene Log.

  Vinnie showed the officer his warrant card and then said, ‘No need to show me on the log, I’m not going to get in the way by going in, I just want to have a mooch around the back.’

  The cop nodded, but Vinnie noticed his pen-hand move across his board nonetheless. Before he headed to the rear of the premises Vinnie reacquainted himself with the main site. It was mid-size with around thirty or forty units on it, all newly built, and most appeared to be used as office spaces and admin blocks. At the north end of the estate was a porta-cabin which was used by the security staff. He was tempted to speak to whoever was there, but didn’t want to take any chances. It would just be his luck that whoever had been on duty the night before was on a quick change to a day shift and may have seen Vinnie in his yellow jacket and suddenly recognise him. But to be honest, he knew there was virtually no chance of that. He’d kept a constant lookout for the guard last night and never saw anyone. Just better to be cautious; and in any event as soon as HOLMES2 was running and spitting out actions, one of them would be for someone to interview the security guard. It would seem strange if a DI had already done so.

  Fifteen minutes later, he walked around the inner service road of the site and had not seen anything of interest. Not that he would know anything was of interest until he saw it. Detective work was often about hunches, seeing things which were apparently innocent until other information changed that. One of Vinnie’s strengths had always been the ability to review things once discarded as of no interest, but through new eyes in the light of new information. It was probably why as a DC he’d often been picked to do the Exhibits Officer’s job on major incidents; continually going over old ground. Boring, repetitive but essential.

  Back where he started, he was about to head to the rear of the burnt out building when his phone rang. He was pleased to see the screen light up with the words “Christine Jones”. It lightened his mood. Christine was a local TV investigative reporter working mainly for independent regional TV stations and had been instrumental in helping him on his last job – catching the escaped killer Daniel Moxley – he couldn’t have done it without her. Especially after he’d managed to get himself suspended; she’d been the public face of his inquiries and got a pretty good scoop at the end of it. They’d been out for a drink a few weeks afterwards, and he intended to ask her out again, he enjoyed her company and she was switched on. He pressed the green icon to accept the call. ‘Hi Christine, I’ve been meaning to give you a bell, how’s it going?’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, cut the crap. But seeing as you ask I’m fine. Look, you’re not in Preston, are you?’

  Vinnie knew that Christine sometimes had a difficult relationship with the detectives. They thought she got in the way of investigations sometimes, and he used to subscribe to that; but knew better now. She was just good at her job and often got to the story before the cops did. He wasn’t surprised by her question. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘No crystal ball this time. My editor asked me to leg it up to Preston from Salford to cover a new murder investigation press conference. It was given by Harry Delany, so I wondered if you were on the case.’

  ‘You wondered right, but I thought you were doing some deep exposé type investigation?’

  ‘Even knowing that much could get you killed, Palmer, so be careful what you say. Walls have ears as well as sausages, and all that.’

  He smiled at what she had said, she clearly loved playing the reverse cop-like strategies, it was partly what got up the noses of some of his contemporaries; but not Vinnie. ‘Ok Sherlock, I’m just up at the fire scene, where the poor victim lost his life.’

  ‘I was just about to head up there; can you wait for me and show me around?’

  Vinnie agreed and arranged to meet Christine in the Asda café on the entrance to the site. He had a cappuccino waiting for her when she arrived fifteen minutes later.

  ‘So, what were you intending to bell me about?’ Christine asked, before she’d sat down.

  She had a natural way of disarming Vinnie by asking not so much random, but unexpected questions, or just questions at unexpected times. After a slight pause, he said, ‘Oh nothing, just a catch up chat. Anyway, to business, what did Harry tell the press?’

  ‘Don’t you mean what did Harry not tell us,’ Christine said with a smile.

  ‘Probably, but do I have to ring him?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she answered, before going on to elaborate.

  As expected, Harry had told the press that the fire had been started deliberately, and that a man had died in the fire, but no more, other than to add that the two men thought responsible had been seen running away from the rear of the premises by a witness, and it is was highly likely that they made good their escape in a waiting vehicle which may have been parked on the hard shoulder of the M6 northbound, somewhere between junctions 31A and 32, and if anyone had seen bla, bla, bla, they should get in touch.

  Christine finished by asking, ‘Anything to add, Vinnie?’ followed by, ‘My first job is to try and find the witness; I thought I’d start with site security, unless you can point me in the right direction?’

  ‘Nothing to add, but I can save you some trouble. I’m the witness, but I can’t tell you why, not yet anyway
.’ Vinnie saw Christine raise an eyebrow, but she didn’t say anything.

  ‘Look, I’m about to have a look around the rear of the place, in the direction that the two figures went last night, join me if you want, but the building itself is off-limits for now.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ she said, ‘there’s an outside broadcast unit on its way so it would be good to get a feel for the place before they arrive.’

  Ten minutes later, they were around the back of the building. Vinnie had noticed from his earlier walkabout that all the CCTV on-site pointed to the front of each building, and it appeared the same at the rear. It was the first time he had seen the back of the building in clear daylight and as he looked out across the grass towards the motorway’s sounds Christine asked which way the two shadows had gone, exactly. He pointed towards the edge of the embankment 150 metres away, which led to the M6.

  As he set off towards it, he looked at the building’s only neighbour to their left and hadn’t realised how far set back it was, probably about thirty or forty metres. When they reached level with its rear, Vinnie stopped and stared to his left at a further building, at its back. It was obscured by its larger neighbour and positioned about a further twenty-five metres behind it. In distance, it was roughly halfway between the motorway embankment and the back of the burned-out building.

  ‘I’m guessing you didn’t know that was there?’ Christine asked.

  ‘No, it’s totally hidden from view. It looks like an annex from the main building in front; come on let’s take a closer look.’

  Five minutes later they had circled the small one-storey brick building. It had no windows but a glass front door facing back towards the estate. There was a gravel path linking it to the rear of the main building which hid it.

  ‘Did you notice the CCTV,’ Christine said, smiling.

  ‘I did, come on.’

  Vinnie had seen the usual cameras at the front of the building looking towards the glass, double-door entrance. And as there were no windows in the annex, he hadn’t expected to see any at the rear. But not only where there two cameras on the building’s rear wall, one on each edge, but they were facing outward – towards the motorway.

  As he walked to the front door, Vinnie pulled his warrant card out. On opening the door, he could see a small reception area of about ten feet by ten feet, a small counter to the left which had a door behind it, and a further closed door was to their right. He rang the bell and two minutes later a portly man in his sixties appeared through the door behind the desk.

  ‘Yes?’ the man asked.

  ‘I’m DI Palmer and this is a colleague,’ Vinnie announced, showing the man his ID while giving Christine a wink.

  ‘How can I help you?’

  ‘We are investigating the fire around the corner and noticed you have outward facing CCTV at the back,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘That’s right,’ the man said, and before Vinnie could ask why, the man continued. ‘We got done once before, or should I say the last owners did. Bastards smashed their way in through the rear wall, must have taken them half the night, and then they pissed off down the M6. No one saw anything, apparently, so they had those cameras installed. A bit late if you ask me.’

  ‘What do you actually do here?’ Vinnie asked.

  ‘We just keep all our company’s records here, it’s just a depository now, its design is ideal for that, which is why my company bought it,’ the man said, before going on to explain that his company kept paper records and files for the few remaining clients that still needed to hold onto non-digital records.

  Vinnie suspected that the CPS or legal chambers would no doubt use facilities like this.

  ‘What was the place used for when the break-in happened?’ Christine asked.

  ‘It was several years ago, but it used to be a holding facility for cash-in-transit deliveries, but as I say it’s just full of paper records now. I’m surprised you don’t already know all this.’

  Vinnie explained that they were from Manchester, but no doubt the locals would know the history.

  ‘Talk about right and left hands,’ the man muttered.

  Vinnie ignored the comment and watched as the man leaned down and opened a drawer and pulled out a DVD case.

  ‘You’ll be wanting this, then,’ he said, as he passed the case over. ‘I’ve been expecting you. It’s a copy of the whole twenty-four hours covering the fire, all yesterday and through the night. I’ve obviously not had time to look at it so I don’t know if it’s any use.’

  Vinnie thanked the man and asked, ‘Is this the only copy?’

  “Fraid so,’ the man answered. ‘The system re-records over itself every forty-eight hours, which is why I changed the disk sharpish this morning.’

  Vinnie thanked the man again and said that at some time later someone would call back and take a statement from him.

  Back outside, Vinnie turned to Christine. ‘Well, I’m off to find a DVD player.’

  ‘I’ll help you,’ she said.

  Chapter Seven

  ‘Damn, there’s no DVD player,’ Vinnie said, stood at the end of the double bed in his hotel room. ‘Just the flat-screen TV.’ He’d reckoned it might be quicker than trying to grab some equipment in Preston nick while the chaos of getting the incident room fully operational was still in progress. Plus, he’d agreed to let Christine help him as two sets of eyes were always better than one when watching CCTV; things could be easily missed. It was amazing how tiring and boring it could be.

  ‘Try the TV itself, sometimes they’re a combo?’ she said.

  Vinnie examined the TV more closely and could see a DVD slot in its side. ‘Nice one, Christine,’ he said, before turning the set on and pushing the DVD into the slot.

  ‘Evidentially, we should really make a working copy of the DVD to protect the original,’ Vinnie said, pausing as he spoke, but the delay in finding not only a DVD machine but one that makes copies, and a technician to do it in order to ensure integrity sufficient to satisfy a court, would take ages.

  ‘Taking a little look won’t harm, will it? she asked.

  ‘I suppose not, we can use anything we see as intelligence and enter it into the evidence chain later.’

  ‘I won’t tell if you won’t.’

  Vinnie thought further for a moment. Strictly speaking he should do as he’d suggested, all his cop instincts were telling him this. But at this stage they were only seeking the information from it; if there was any. He decided to press on.

  ‘If there is anything of value on it, surely only then does it become evidence and need preserving?’ Christine offered.

  ‘Strictly speaking, that’s true. If there’s nothing on it then it just becomes unused material. Let’s see what we’ve got.’

  Once the DVD started to play, it showed two views, each taking up half the screen and each with the same view. It was daylight, and the view was away from the premises they had visited, showing grass which eventually fell away. A further field was visible in the distant foreground.

  ‘It’s obviously a dual-camera system, but both showing the same thing,’ Vinnie said, adding, ‘Probably a zoom operated infrared motion detector on the second lens.’

  Christine looked at him, and he explained further.

  ‘This is basic kit. The first lens shows the view, but if anything disturbs the motion detector, the second lens zooms onto it. You get the close-up but keep the overall view to contrast it against.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound too basic to me,’ Christine said.

  ‘Trust me.’

  ‘Oh, I do.’

  Vinnie fast-forwarded the disc. There was no date or time stamp on it but as they knew the fire went up at dusk, he could use the failing light to guide him.

  Twenty minutes later, the light was clearly going and he pressed play on the remote. He kept leapfrogging until the second half of the screen suddenly went into zoom mode. A flash of brilliant light was soon followed by another. He assumed the explosions had caused the zoom to
kick in, but he backed the disc up anyway and pressed play again.

  ‘There,’ Christine shouted.

  Vinnie lent in towards the TV and could see the image of the backs of two men running from the right of the screen across the grass towards the embankment. They were shadowy and not too clear, even when the flashes appeared, which were only for an instant. They weren’t much help, as they tended to white-out the view. Certainly no way could the figures be identified from this footage, but he knew it must be Quintel and Jason. The two shadows neared the edge of the grass where the embankment started. ‘They’ll disappear in a mo, and then that’ll be that I’m afraid.’

  Vinnie sighed as a moment later the zoomed view returned to its previous state, but then a new view appeared from the second half of the screen. This time it had the footer of “Camera Three” under it. This new view showed the two fugitives slipping and sliding down the embankment towards the hard shoulder of the motorway, one after the other.

  ‘Where’s this feed coming from?’ Christine asked.

  ‘That post,’ Vinnie shouted as he glanced at camera one’s view - the overview - and could just make out a tall white post at the edge of the grass. ‘Brilliant.’

  Returning to the view from camera three, both men could be seen approaching a family sized saloon parked on the hard shoulder. The larger of the two – he assumed to be Jason – got in the driver’s side, and the other – Quintel - got in the passenger side. Then car lights came on and the vehicle started to drive forward, then the camera three view went blank. Seconds later the TV screen returned to the joint overview position and the footers changed back to “Camera One” and “Camera Two”.

  ‘Damn, what just happened?’ Vinnie said.

  ‘I can guess,’ Christine said, before going on to explain. She reckoned that the motion detector on camera three – the one on the post – probably would only be activated once camera two had picked up motion heading towards it.