by Sarah Flint
‘DCI O’Connor phoned half an hour ago. He wants a word, guv. Says it’s important. Something about an IPCC investigation.’ Paul relayed the message as soon as they entered the office.
Hunter frowned. ‘He’ll have to wait then. It’ll be their enquiry into our last case, because I called our armed response units in and they did what they’re paid to do. If they hadn’t taken that mad man out who knows what might have happened. It’s just such a bloody waste of time. Anyway, I’d like to see some of their bosses make the sort of decisions that we have to make on a day-to-day basis.’
‘There was no such thing as the IPCC when I joined.’ Bet stood up, stretched, yawned and rubbed the base of her back. ‘I know they have a job to do and they have to investigate serious incidents involving police, but it’s just another layer of accountability. Police officers will be frightened to move soon.’
‘Half of them already are.’ Hunter was clearly irritated. The IPCC enquiry had obviously rattled him. He was about to disappear into his office when Naz and Sabira came in, chatting animatedly.
‘Ah, ladies,’ he turned towards the sound, relaxing visibly. ‘How did you get on at the hospital.’
Naz dropped her bag on her desk. ‘It was interesting, boss. Tina is recovering well. I think the new baby is taking her mind off things and keeping her busy. Bryony is beautiful and looks very much like the photos Tina has of Brian. We talked about him and his family and friends mostly. He didn’t tell her much about his work, so she can’t help us on that score.’
‘She did say she wasn’t aware of any problems with work colleagues though,’ Sabira added.
‘So, what was so interesting? Apart from the baby.’ Hunter stuck the end of a biro in his mouth and chewed on it.
Naz smiled and sat down. ‘Well, Tina was talking about her ex-husband mainly. It could be nothing, but she’s got a thing in her head that he was somehow involved. There’s certainly no love lost between them. He sees Brian as being the cause of their marriage breakup… and the reason he lost his children. He and Tina were teenage sweethearts apparently and although the relationship was always a bit on and off they had weathered the worst of the storm, had the two kids and stayed together for over fifteen years… until she met Brian.
‘Her ex recently took her and Brian to court for sole custody of the kids, Bobby and Emily, but lost the case. God knows how he thought he would win it when he’s on his own, in and out of work, and Tina is married and in a stable relationship. He isn’t happy about it though, and to add to his woes he’s been refused legal aid to appeal the decision. Tina and Brian fought the case on the grounds that he drinks and has been volatile in the past. They counter-claimed he is unsuitable to even have shared custody and argued that he should only have supervised access to the kids. Apparently, the ex blames Brian for ruining his life.’
‘That is interesting. What’s his name?’
‘It’s Carl Hookham. Tina was Tina Hookham before she married Brian. Bobby and Emily still have his surname, although she was saying she and Brian had been thinking recently of changing their names by deed poll to Ashton. She’d mentioned this to Carl too. She wanted her older kids to have the same surname as the new baby.’
‘I can imagine he wasn’t too enthused with that idea?’ Hunter jotted down Carl’s name. ‘No father wants to have another man bring up his kids. Even less so if the one thing that marks them out as his is changed. There’s something quite primordial about names. A man always wants a male heir to carry on the family name from one generation to the next. You only have to think of King Henry VIII to know that.’
‘Really, guv? Do you think that’s still relevant these days?’ Charlie was incredulous.
‘Who knows? Probably not so much as previously, but for some it’s still important, particularly if the name reflects a tough time in someone’s life. Your mum changed your name didn’t she, when she married your stepfather?’
‘Yes, she did,’ Charlie shrugged. ‘So we’d all have Harry’s surname. Now I wish she hadn’t. My stepfather turned out to be just as bad as my birth father. If it hadn’t been for him taking us out on the boat…’ She stopped talking. Even after all these years she found it hard to say Jamie’s name and the fact that he was dead. ‘Anyway, I would happily have stayed as Heath; that was her maiden name and the name she used for us before her marriage. Charlie Heath has a nice ring to it, but I suppose it’s easier for Mum, Lucy, Beth and I to all be Stafford; makes us sound like a nice wholesome family unit… and it allows my mother to conveniently ignore the past.’
She laughed. She didn’t know too much about her mother’s history and Meg would never talk about her roots. All Charlie really knew was that Meg, Jamie and she had been born in Scotland but had moved down to London after her mother’s relationship with their father broke down. Apart from the name Iain Frazer written on her birth certificate, she knew nothing more about her birth father and didn’t really care to find out.
She picked a piece of paper up from her desk, screwed it up and aimed it at the bin, before concentrating back on the matter at hand. ‘Does Carl Hookham have any other children from past or present relationships?’
‘No, just Bobby and Emily,’ Sabira confirmed. ‘I suppose that’s why he’s reacted as he has. According to Tina, he’s been getting increasingly unhappy with the situation; making threats about what he would do if they tried to change the kids’ surname. It wasn’t even that likely. Without his consent, they’d have had to apply to a judge for a court order and, given the children’s ages and the fact that Carl still plays a role in their upbringing, their wish was unlikely to be granted. Still, it didn’t stop them mentioning it and Carl fearing the worst.’ Sabira paused and looked towards Hunter. ‘None of the threats were reported officially though, guv. Brian didn’t want his private life gossiped about by all and sundry. He wanted to deal with Carl himself.’
‘Maybe Carl wanted to deal with Brian himself too,’ Charlie piped up. ‘Maybe he got there first, the jealous ex. Carl would fit the suspect profile; a loner who has lost his wife and kids to another man and wants them back. So, he takes away Brian’s looks with acid and chops off his hands so he can’t touch or have what he’s had taken off him. Hey presto! His rival is taken out and his way back is clear. Job done.’
‘It sounds as if our job is only just beginning.’ Hunter looked round towards Naz and Sabira. ‘Nice work, you two. Get going on researching Hookham’s profile. When you’re ready, we’ll take a drive out and speak to him. Charlie, be prepared to come too.’
‘Not so soon DI Hunter,’ DCI Declan O’Connor charged through the doorway into the office. His expression was thunderous. ‘I sent a message asking for you to come and speak to me as soon as you got back. That was three quarters of an hour ago.’ He glared at Paul, before turning his attention back to Hunter. ‘And now I come in to hear you planning to go back out again. Just when were you going to come and see me?’
Hunter put his hands up, as if in surrender. ‘Sorry, boss, Paul did say. Something’s just come in.’
‘Don’t tell me about what’s just come in. I’ve spent all morning having to explain every single decision you made to a prize bitch from the IPCC.’ DCI O’Connor closed his eyes and sighed heavily. ‘I know you hate all the political stuff. Believe me so do I, but now it’s your turn, and so help me God, if you do not come now she will have my full support to have you disciplined in any way she sees fit.’
The DCI opened his eyes again and Charlie couldn’t help noticing the glint of good humour in his expression. She liked the man; he was untidy like her, but he dealt in actions, not words, like Hunter. Today, however, his usual shabby appearance was a hundred times worse, his thick, wavy locks hanging in untamed clumps against his scalp. He looked as if he had literally been trying to pull his hair out.
Hunter grinned. The two men had the same outlook on life; Declan O’Connor had risen to the next rank purely because he had marginally more patience than Hunter. Hunt
er’s blood pressure always rose at the merest hint of a complaint, never mind disciplinary action or public enquiry, and today was no exception.
‘OK, let’s get this over with. You lot carry on profiling Carl Hookham and, Charlie, see how Nick is getting on at the post-mortem and do a bit more on Dennis Walters. Hopefully I won’t be too long.’
*
Two hours later, it was Hunter’s turn to slam through the door, ruddy-faced, frowning and with the vein on his forehead bulging ominously. He looked angrier than she’d ever seen him before.
‘Ms Brenda “blood-sucking” Leach wants to meet you, Charlie. I’ve told her that she has five minutes maximum before we have to go out on murder enquiries. Anything more, just get up and leave. I’m not having her disrupting our investigation any longer.’
Charlie nodded and headed out, feeling suddenly nervous. The case being reviewed by the IPCC had concluded with their main suspect being shot by armed police. Hunter had led the enquiry and made the decisions, but she had been present throughout. The Met’s own internal complaints unit, the DPS, or Directorate of Professional Standards, had attended the initial crime scene, investigating all police actions and decisions and it was their verdict which was now being reviewed by the Independent Police Complaints Commission. Although Charlie firmly believed that Hunter had not been in any way at fault, saying the wrong thing at the wrong time was something that came easily to her; and with someone who had as much political clout as this woman apparently did, it felt like she was about to be called into the witness box of Court 1 at the Old Bailey for cross-examination.
DCI O’Connor was waiting at the entrance to his office when she arrived. He ushered her in with his hand squarely on her back, propelling her forward towards a tall, slim, mixed-race woman, in her early fifties. She was dressed elegantly in a smart grey trouser suit, pink open-necked shirt and shiny black high-heeled shoes. Her hair was long, black and glossy framing an attractive face, with a liberal application of mascara accentuating the chestnut colouring of her irises. Her skin shone with a warm brown hue and a perfectly rounded mole under her left eye moved up and down as she blinked. Charlie found herself mesmerised by the mole, which appeared to her to be caught up in some kind of crazy Latin dance. Then she realised that the woman was holding her hand out towards her.
‘You must be DC Charlotte Stafford? I am Ms Brenda Leach. I’m one of the commissioners who work for the Independent Police Complaints Commission. As our name suggests, the IPCC is a department, independent of any pressure groups, political parties and the government, designed to investigate police complaints in an unbiased, open and timely manner in order to increase the public confidence in the police and other law enforcement services.’
It sounded like a speech that was trotted out without thought at the start of every new meeting.
Charlie shook Ms Leach’s hand, noting the way the woman barely made enough time for the greeting before releasing her grip.
‘Yes, I’m DC Charlotte Stafford.’
‘Well, take a seat, DC Stafford.’ She dismissed the DCI with a flick of her hand and they both sat down, on either side of his desk, before Ms Leach cleared her throat. ‘I’m in overall charge of the investigation into DI Hunter’s actions in your last case. I’ve read the statements you have all made and I don’t intend to go into any of the details with you. That has already been done, I see, by DS Hayley Boyle from the DPS. I take it you remember making your statement with her?’
‘Yes, she was very pleasant, but I still took a federation rep with me.’ Charlie kept her answer short, making a point she hoped would be noted. She would have preferred to have a fed rep with her now. Anything to do with complaints made her anxious, however innocent she was, and usually you were allowed to have a ‘friend’ present.
Brenda Leach continued, without comment. ‘I’ve just had a long meeting with DI Hunter, as I’m sure you are aware. He gave me his opinions on what happened in the case and talked me through his decision-making processes. It was an informative and somewhat enlightening meeting. There are not many officers of his ilk around these days.’
Charlie watched her as she paused while choosing her last words carefully; debating whether they were said with her approval or censure. Ms Leach was difficult to read; smart, well-spoken and educated… and she was giving nothing away.
‘I don’t intend, as I say, going into the details, in fact I wasn’t even going to speak with you, until after my last meeting.’ She smiled towards Charlie, in a friendly manner, her head tilted to one side as if concentrating on every word she said. ‘But seeing as we’re both here I thought I would take the time to meet you. Your boss speaks very highly of you.’ She glanced surreptitiously towards the scar on Charlie’s left hand. ‘I wondered if you would speak as highly of him. Obviously, with just the two of us present you are at total liberty to tell me exactly what you think, off the record.’
She blinked several times before flashing a smile at Charlie again. She seemed genuinely interested, but at the same time Charlie was suspicious of her intentions. Why not ask these questions in the presence of the DCI? Unless she was hoping for the answers to be more critical with just the two of them, in a way that she might appreciate. She wished she’d been able to assess the woman’s feelings towards Hunter better.
Still, it didn’t matter what Ms Leach thought. Charlie knew exactly how she felt and it was all good.
‘I don’t quite know what you are getting at, Ms Leach, but if you are asking me to tell you what I think of DI Hunter I’m more than happy to tell you exactly what I think; whether the DCI is present or not.’ She stared straight at Ms Leach. ‘In fact, I wish the DCI was here to listen to what I’ll say.’ Brenda Leach blanched slightly but her eyes didn’t falter. ‘DI Hunter is the best guvnor I’ve ever worked for. He is experienced, enthusiastic and knowledgeable and I would trust his judgement any day. Actually I would go as far as to say I would trust him with my life anytime, as I’m sure would every member of his team.’
She stood up, her chair snagging against the carpet and held her hand out towards Ms Leach. ‘I do hope you weren’t trying to cast doubt on DI Hunter’s leadership.’ Brenda Leach proffered her hand in return and Charlie gripped it strongly. ‘Now, if that is all, I hope you’ll excuse me but I am needed by DI Hunter to assist with a new investigation.’
Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked out.
*
Nick was just struggling into the office on her return, carrying several large sacks of exhibit bags, containing assorted items of clothing, swabs and samples. His face looked even more pasty and white than it had earlier and there were large sweat marks under the armpits and on the back of his shirt.
As he emptied the first bag on to his desk, Hunter came out of his office. Gone was the ruddy complexion and anger of earlier, his expression now replaced by a look of tired defeat. He took one look at the bags of exhibits and shook his head.
‘Right, that’s made my mind up. Carl Hookham can wait until tomorrow morning. Let’s all muck in and get these booked in together. By the looks of it, some will need to go into the exhibits freezers and fridges in the SOCO’s office ASAP. Some we can book in to the property office downstairs. I presume you liaised with SOCO at the hospital as to what needs to go where?’
Nick nodded and pointed to the various bags. ‘I’ve already split them into the relevant types, depending on how they need to be stored.’
They all crowded around, selecting a bag to deal with. Charlie indicated to Nick that she’d make a start on the freezer exhibits.
Hunter turned towards Nick. ‘You’ve done a good job. While the others get started, you can fill us in on what Dr Crane said about Ashton’s cause of death.’ He gave him the merest of nods, but it was enough for Nick to brighten and he squared his shoulders and pulled out some notes. It didn’t escape Charlie either. She flashed a smile as Nick looked up and gave her a little wink. The boss looked despondent, probably from th
e earlier interview, but at least he had cut their new team member some slack. It made the atmosphere less awkward.
‘Right,’ Nick started. ‘Dr Crane will send a full report over as soon as it’s completed, but in essence, as we suspected, the cause of death is shock; in principle as a result of the blood loss through the severed hands. The acid almost certainly added to this, as its reaction with the skin and eyes would have been extremely painful and the movement of plasma to the burn site would have contributed to the overall loss of blood and fluids to the major organs, causing the body to go into shock.’
Charlie winced at the thought. Even tiny burns are disproportionately sore; how painful must it be feeling your skin and eyes literally sizzling in acid.
‘On the subject of the acid, the lab has already run tests on it and it is sulphuric acid. Dr Crane needed to know exactly what he was dealing with before he started the post-mortem. He showed me a clip on the internet where a professor shows the effect of sulphuric acid on a piece of sheep’s skin. It’s horrific.’
Paul picked up his phone and started to search.
Nick continued. ‘The time of death was estimated to be between 01.30 and 03.30, but Dr Crane has yet to do further tests on the stomach contents which may pinpoint the exact time. He’ll forward on his final report as soon as he can.’
Hunter nodded. More details always emerged after the initial examination.
‘There were no defensive injuries that Dr Crane could find. It appears that Brian Ashton was taken by surprise. He barely had time to react. The burns are more severe to his scalp and the top of his face, rather than under his chin or neck. This would be consistent with the acid being thrown down towards him, i.e. Ashton was kneeling or bending at the time.’
‘Probably to see what had happened to his dog.’ Charlie said what she was thinking out loud.
‘That’s what we thought too. Anyway, his attention had clearly been diverted to something lower. There were no major burns to his hands, other than a few small blisters where the acid probably splashed, and no injuries that would show he had time to raise his hands to defend himself.’ Nick stopped momentarily and paled even further. ‘Dr Crane examined both hands independently. The right hand appears to have been severed in one action, probably from a heavy, sharp weapon, such as an axe or machete. The direction of the blade is consistent with it hitting the back of his wrist and it has then travelled straight through the skin and joint in one motion. There is gravel and dirt on the inside of the wrist where it has been pushed down into the ground. To do this, Dr Crane believes that the suspect would likely have been positioned to the right of his victim, so Brian would have had his hands out in front of him, as if he has fallen forward on to all fours.’
