Deadly Focus

by R. C. Bridgestock

  She swallowed hard, but her expression didn’t change as she walked to a tall, grey, metal filing cabinet and pulled out one of the heavy drawers. Encased were files on every member of civilian staff, containing all their personal and work related details. She tossed the file to him nonchalantly.

  ‘This is most irritating. What’s going to happen to all the property now?’ she said.

  ‘Any property brought in from this moment in time will have to go into temporary store. I’ll let you know where once that’s been agreed.’ He stood up to leave.

  ‘You can’t take that with you. I need it back,’ she said, flustered ‘I can’t let a personal file go out of my hands without a signature.’

  ‘What do you need me to sign?’ he said. She passed him an authorisation slip.

  ‘Bloody protocol,’ he moaned as he scrawled his name. ‘I’ll need it ‘til at least tomorrow. Don’t, whatever you do, breathe a word of this to anyone, and I mean anyone, including police officers.’

  He left through the main office, keyboards clicking, printers humming, telephones ringing and the kettle boiling, but still no Jen. It was all so normal in admin and yet things were beginning to move at a pace with the enquiry.

  He walked briskly to the upper floor where the station boss for Harrowfield had his office. Phil Warrington was a homely man with big, red, rosy cheeks and a stomach that said he liked his beer.

  ‘How’re things, Jack? How’re the murder enquiries going? You’ll choose a quieter life one day and run a division,’ he laughed warmly, beckoning Dylan to sit in one of the comfy chairs around the coffee table. Dylan and Phil had known and worked with each other, with mutual respect, for years.

  ‘Up until the last forty-eight hours, nothing was giving at all on either of them, but, and it’s very early days yet, we think we might be on to something. Avril had been nagging me about the property store because it was fit to bursting with the murder exhibits.’

  Phil held his hand up. ‘That’s her job, Jack, but I understand it’s the last thing you need at the moment.’

  ‘As it happens, Phil, it may have been a good thing. I’ve had to close the store. It may be that there’s potential evidence for the murders secreted in there. I’ve just got the personal file of the storekeeper from her, although she wasn’t for parting with it. Can you believe she had me sign for the bloody thing?’

  ‘That’s Harold Little, isn’t it? You think he may be involved?’

  Dylan nodded.

  ‘You’ll tell me what’s going on when the time’s right, I’m sure, but I’d be grateful if you let me know first if you think anyone from the division is involved.’

  ‘I assure you, Phil. I just need to firm some things up first, to be one hundred per cent sure. There’s only Avril and you who know anything at the moment, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.’

  ‘Best of luck, mate. I’m grateful for you keeping me up to speed, and if you need anything else let me know.’

  ‘Thanks, Phil,’ he said, shaking his friend’s hand.

  Back in the store with the other officers, Dylan allocated tasks. ‘We need to get the lock changed for this door. Can I leave it with you, John, to arrange it with a local joiner? Invoice the incident room: I don’t want Avril to have another other reason to have a go. Oh, and all the keys to us. We’ll also need the keys for the cabinets from her and a sign needs to be put on the door.’ While he talked, Dylan wrote in large letters on a piece of printer paper.

  PROPERTY STORE FULL, CLOSED DUE TO HEALTH AND SAFETY REASONS

  FOR INFORMATION ON DEPOSITS OR COLLECTIONS PLEASE RING HARROWFIELD HQ INCIDENT ROOM ON EXT 71146

  ‘Deposits will have to go in a makeshift temporary store here in the void. I’ve cleared it with Phil Warrington. Inform the van man that when he collects the post from Tandem Bridge he needs to deposit their property to the void, too. Collections from this store will have to be dealt with by incident room staff. Avril and Phil know about what we’re doing, but they’re the only ones in the know apart from us six. Oh, I’ve also managed to get Harold Wilkinson-Little’s file.’ He put an emphasis on the ‘Wilkinson’. ‘How’re you doing down here?’ Dylan asked.

  ‘We’ve already forced the drawer to his desk, boss, and there’re one or two printouts from the Friends Reunited website, along with details about Martin, Trevor and Barry. There’re a few scribblings, but none are particularly legible.’ Larry handed Dylan the papers which were already in plastic see-through exhibits bags. ‘We’ve just about done all we can at the moment. The sock and dress material are being dealt with by SOCO, and they’ll be dealing with the printouts, too, once you’ve finished with them.’

  ‘The canes?’ asked Dylan.

  ‘Each one has been photographed and bagged separately, boss,’ said Vicky. ‘They aren’t half a weight collectively.’

  ‘Jasmine, you all done?’

  ‘Yes, for the time being.’

  ‘Great. Dawn, anything?’

  ‘Yeah, I’ve been looking at the logistics of doing a full search and an audit in here. We’ll need to check every bag, so that means a week’s work for about four staff. He may have hidden something else, so we can’t take a chance.’

  ‘We’ve no choice, Dawn, have we? But for the first time in weeks we may have a breakthrough.’ Dylan hoped so, anyway. ‘Right, everyone back to the incident room for a scrum down. We’ll decide our next move and catch up with the team. Anything on Barry Sanderson yet?’

  ‘No,’ said Larry, ‘but I’ll get someone in the incident room to check the progress on that enquiry.’

  ‘Vicky, are you staying in the store with John or coming with us to the incident room?’

  ‘No competition, boss, you know that,’ she said cheekily. ‘I’ll stay here with, John.’ She cracked out laughing. It caused the others to laugh too. It wasn’t that the comment was all that funny, but it felt good to laugh. Laughing was something that none of them had done in a long while.

  ‘I’ll remember that, Vicky,’ he said, pretending to be hurt.

  ‘I love it when you’re cross, boss,’ she teased, still grinning.

  They headed back to the incident room. Dylan whistled. The development was a welcome breakthrough, and he knew it would have the same effect on the rest of the team. When the time was right he would tell them.

  He sat and called Jen. ‘I’m back in my office, love. We’re having a really good day How about you?’

  ‘Fine, something’s obviously perked you up.’

  ‘Ah, ha. Possibly. I’ll let you know later if it turns out as good as we expect it to. Ring you when I’m leaving for home.’

  He felt upbeat. Okay, he didn’t have a motive yet or any reasons, but what he did have was a hell of a lot more than before. It could be Harold or one of a hundred people who’d accessed the store, but it certainly was a step in the right direction.

  Harold was the property clerk, so he was the obvious place to start. He received, labelled, and sealed bags and boxes of property from people. This wasn’t labelled. He was meticulous; Dylan knew that much. So was the item there without his knowledge? The only sure thing was that an item from both murders, trophies, had been found. Prove who put them there and the murderer or murderers would be known. They’d only been discovered by chance, hidden. The murderer thought they were in a safe place, locked away in a police station.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  ‘Thank you, god,’ he whispered. Dylan wasn’t particularly religious but this was the piece of luck he’d been missing and he knew it.

  Dylan, Dawn, and Larry sat and discussed the day’s developments in detail late into the evening. They didn’t notice the time or the dark creeping up on them, they weren’t tired.

  Little’s file had been photocopied three times. ‘WILKINSON’ was his middle name.

  Harold Wilkinson-Little

  D.O.B: 1.5.1960

  Address: - 12, Sycamore Drive, Tandem Bridge.

  Vehi
cle Reg: - T412 NRT – Suzuki Carry Van 1.3ltr

  Previous employers: - Administration Dept at the local Council Office, Librarian at large bookstore, Lost Property Clerk for British Rail.

  Starting date Police: - 3.4.2000

  In case of emergency: - Mrs Pauline Wilkinson-Little

  Comment by Interviewer: -

  Excellent interview. By far the most outstanding candidate. A fine, upstanding person who will be an asset to the service, mild-mannered, polite, eager to please, and respectful.

  Signed: Avril Summerfield-Preston

  ‘He’s only forty-five. Jesus, he looks sixty,’ said Dawn.

  ‘He’s got to be our main focus. We need the Spencers to visually ID the sock,’ said Dylan. ‘Same with the material for the Hinds, please. We need someone to do a recce on Harold’s house with a view to surveillance until we’re ready to move in on him. I want any known intelligence we have about him; family, vehicle, even parking tickets and speed cameras.’

  ‘What do you want us to tell the family, boss? They’re going to ask where we found the stuff,’ said Dawn.

  ‘For the time being, we’re going to say that we found them by chance in a storeroom, but nobody’s connected to them. Enquiries are continuing and there are a lot of people to see, which is the truth.’

  ‘Do you want to do the Hinds, Dawn? Larry, the Spencers? That way I know it’ll be done right. I’ll get someone from the surveillance team over here and all the relevant paperwork for approval. Meet you both back here in an hour.’

  Nobody needed asking twice. The chairs screeched back keenly, life had been injected into them: were they getting close?

  Dylan had been updating the policy book with the day’s events and scribbling the directions and actions he wanted the team to take. Now, he was waiting for Inspector Ben Wright, force surveillance. The team outside his office working steadily away knew something was afoot. A coffee was placed on his desk.

  ‘Thanks, Lisa,’ he said, watching her go. Eager eyes awaited her return.

  ‘Nothing,’ she shook her head. ‘He didn’t give anything away,’ she said sadly, as she slipped back into her seat in the incident room.

  Dylan was pondering his next move when Dawn returned.

  ‘Might have known you’d be sitting and drinking coffee whilst we’re all out working our butts off.’

  ‘Privileges of rank, Dawn. One day you’ll do it, hopefully sooner rather than later,’ he beamed.

  ‘Positive ID from the Hinds.’ They asked a lot of questions and I told them what you said and that we’d have to wait for forensics examination.’

  ‘Great. You’ve just reminded me, I want these exhibits up to forensics tomorrow, and I want them priority. Early start for someone. Our killer probably didn’t expect them to be found so soon, so we may get lucky.’

  ‘I’m off to get some coffee. D’you want a refill?’ asked Dawn. Dylan nodded.

  Larry walked into the office as Dawn walked out. ‘Yes, please,’ he called after her.

  ‘No question whatsoever with the Spencers. Sarah gave me an unused name tag showing C. SPENCER, which I’ve exhibited. Both of them were excited by the thought we’d found their son’s killer, but I assured them there was a vast amount of work to do yet.’

  Vicky and John marched through the door at a pace. ‘All sorted, boss. Three keys,’ said John, as he placed them on Dylan’s desk.

  ‘The sock and the dress material have been positively identified. Not that we doubted it,’ Dylan told them smugly.

  ‘I think you ought to know something, boss,’ John said, his voice taking a serious note. Dylan was all ears. ‘When I went to get the keys for the cupboards in the store from Avril, she was on the phone. I heard her ask for Mr Hugo-Watkins and she went on to discuss the exhibits we found.’

  ‘The stupid, stupid woman. She was on the phone to him when I went to see her. She was told how important it was not to speak to anyone about this. I’ll have that woman’s guts for garters before I’m finished. I know there’ve been rumours about them, but I never thought she was so … so thick.’ Dylan’s expression could have cut steel.

  Dawn entered the room and closed the door behind her. She had heard the ructions from the incident room. Police stations had thin walls and scandal and rumour spread like wildfire. If only intelligence on criminals did the same, Dawn had thought more than once. The office outside, although looking busy, was very quiet as everyone hoped to catch a snippet of the conversation from within Dylan’s office. A word, a sentence, a name, and the tongues would be off; it was all so exciting for everyone.

  They were just waiting for Jasmine. Dylan could sense the elation being suppressed. Smiles kept appearing on the assembled faces. They wanted to rush out and grab Little now. Dylan could see them all fidgeting and moving bits of paper because they needed something to do.

  ‘Larry, Barry Sanderson, anything yet?’

  ‘The officers will tell us all at the debrief. What I do know is that he lives on his own, is divorced with two children that he doesn’t see, and until recently he had a dog that became sick and died suddenly.’

  ‘Did the officers say he admitted to knowing Trevor and Martin?’

  ‘Yeah, he said he went to the reunion, hadn’t seen them since his schooldays, and can’t think why anyone would particularly target them. Neither could he think of anything that’d happened at the reunion, either.’

  Jasmine arrived and took a seat. Dylan outlined to them how he saw the next seventy-two hours taking shape.

  ‘We now have a positive ID on the sock and the material, linking the two items with the murders. We also have the fingertip and the brace that were sent to their homes. Our property store man, Harold Wilkinson-Little, has a link to the fathers of both children and the reunion they went to. He’s our prime suspect. We’ve gone from having nothing and now have just taken one giant step. What we don’t know is the motive. Spencer, Hind and Sanderson say nothing untoward occurred at the school reunion, but potentially there’s something that caused a usually placid man to become a vile, evil killer.’

  ‘Here are the files Little’s been reading, the old murder cases. I know there’s a hanging in one of them. Maybe he got some ideas from them,’ Larry suggested.

  ‘You could be right, which may account for the mismatch of injuries to the bodies. We need to go through the files and exhibit them. We also need to locate the murder weapons, that’s if they’re not the same in both cases. The inspector’s canes are an ideal size and might be involved, and one of them appears to be missing from the cradle. Where is it? Could that be it?’ Dylan was thoughtful. ‘So we still have a long way to go to nail him, but what a difference a day makes, eh? He’s been under our feet all the time, or maybe seen the exhibits brought in.’ He shook his head in amazement as if nothing surprised him anymore. ‘I’m having round the clock surveillance on him from this evening. We can’t risk him going out and attacking someone else. Ben Wright from the surveillance team is on his way. Early trip tomorrow to forensics. Anyone volunteering?’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Vicky said.

  ‘Thanks. We need to start thinking about getting his vehicle searched and lifted onto a low loader to go to forensics. He may have transported Daisy and Christopher in it. Did he do the murders on his own? He’s only small and doesn’t look very strong, but it’s a thought. We need to identify arrest and search teams for his house, and someone to deal with his wife. I want the search to be in depth. We need to be sure we don’t miss anything. I know it could take hours, but it’s necessary. Where are we going to take him and the property we seize? Any ideas?’

  ‘There’s an unoccupied room just on the corridor from the incident room. It’s secure, and nearby so that could be ideal for the exhibits,’ Dawn said.

  ‘Can you arrange that for me? What if we use a cell here? I know it’s unusual but if we use the female one at the very end of the row away from anyone?’ said Dylan, hopefully.

  ‘That would work ok
ay. What about constant supervision, sir?’ Dawn enquired.

  ‘It’s something else we need to do.’ Everyone had been very quiet and thoughtful, taking notes of actions they personally needed to do and also trying to absorb all that was happening.

  ‘Come on, team effort. I’m doing all the talking,’ said Dylan. They remained silent.

  ‘Okay. I’ll interview with Dawn. We all have in depth knowledge of the murders. Jasmine, from the scenes of crime side, how many staff will you need? Remember I want all the house filming, his vehicle, photographs and exhibits.’

  ‘There’ll be three scenes of crime officers working on the day, so that should be more than enough.’

  ‘I’ll speak with the custody staff, so they’re ready to accept a prisoner. I’m thirsty, let’s have a comfort break, then we’ll discuss what we’ll tell the team.’

  Legs stretched, bladders emptied, and drinks made, they were back in the office and eager to get on with the job at hand, each and every one of them wanting to feel this evil child killer’s collar as soon as possible. Increasingly the incident room staff sensed something was bubbling, but didn’t know what. They were circling like vultures hovering around a wounded animal waiting for it to drop. They wouldn’t expect Dylan to tell them, but after all their hard work they were straining at the leash.

  Hard and fast evidence was needed. The pressure was on and a prime suspect in sight. Dylan was going to grab the nettle and go for him. He hoped to gain evidence through an interview and the search of his property. It was his decision and his alone.

  ‘I’m thinking, the day after tomorrow for the arrest, providing we get confirmation that he’s at home and hasn’t been locked up already by the surveillance team, who’ll do what’s necessary if it looks like he’s at it again. They’ll ring me if they’ve any doubts, but we need to have our teams ready and briefed at tomorrow’s debrief. We’ve a lot of work to do, but I’m sure we’ll all sleep better when we get him behind bars. Anybody got any questions or views, problems, issues? Larry?’