Deadly Focus

by R. C. Bridgestock

  ‘Should we update the review team?’

  ‘Good point. I’ll speak to someone direct. Dawn?’

  ‘What’re we going to tell the team?’

  ‘They should all be here for the debrief shortly. I’m going to give them a quick overview of what’s happened and arrange a debrief tomorrow for four o’clock, when I’ll be able to give them more information and tell them what their individual roles will be.’

  ‘Are you gonna want any uniform presence at the house?’

  ‘Yes, Dawn, definitely.’

  ‘Okay then, decision made,’ Dylan said, slapping the palm of his hand flat on the desk in front of him. ‘Let’s do the debrief.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ‘Now, everyone, what I’m going to tell you remains in this room. I want nothing, and I mean, nothing, discussed outside.’ There was total silence. People glanced at each other to see if any of their colleagues’ expressions told them anything. They shrugged their shoulders and turned their heads.

  ‘First and foremost, both murders are now being merged and tomorrow’s briefing will be a little earlier, at four o’clock. You’ll understand why after I’ve finished,’ he continued. ‘Earlier today we recovered what we believed to be Christopher Spencer’s missing football sock, which has since been positively identified by the family.’ There was a gasp. ‘Recovered along with this was material we believed to be from Daisy’s bridesmaid dress, also IDd by her family. They were found in a bag together.’ Never mind hearing a pin drop, only the sound of breathing and Dylan’s voice could be heard as the assembled crowd stood like marble statues.

  ‘You’ll have to accept that at this time I can’t tell you everything, but it’s anticipated that we’ll be making an arrest in the next twenty-four hours. I don’t want you leaving this room and asking others what they know. We’ve done a vast amount of work recently and we’re not, I repeat not, going to spoil that with careless talk. I know I’ve only given you part of the information I hold, but there’re reasons for that which will become apparent tomorrow. I could’ve said nothing at this stage, but I felt you deserved to know at least that. Let’s hope that continuing enquiries prove to be as positive. I’ll see you all tomorrow.’

  Normal service resumed slowly and the noise level returned, but anticipation and excitement hung in the air. Dylan was right: he could have said nothing, but he realised rumour spread quickly. That’s why he had taken the team into his confidence, a gesture acknowledging their hard work and commitment.

  Ben Wright arrived and Dylan explained the reasons for the surveillance he was requesting. Hopefully, from that night until seven-thirty the day after tomorrow, Harold Wilkinson-Little would be having his every move monitored.

  ‘I’ll have to check the area to see if a surveillance van is feasible,’ Ben explained. ‘There is also the option of a double-crewed car or motorcyclist nearby should he go on the move.’

  Dylan gave him his mobile number and asked him to update him as to what was feasible after he had done a recce. He thanked him, as Ben left to get on with the job in hand.

  Dylan rang Jen to tell her he was leaving work. ‘I’ll call for a bottle of wine on my way.’ Dylan was buoyant.

  ‘I can’t wait to hear all about it.’ Jen smiled. She knew he was going to be a busy man over the next few days if all went well.

  Later that evening, in the middle of their meal, Dylan’s mobile rang.

  ‘Boss, Ben Wright. I’ve had a look at the target house. His white van’s on the drive so I’ve arranged for an obs van. It’s a cul-de-sac, so it’ll be easy to monitor him should he leave, on foot or otherwise. I’ll probably tag on a surveillance motorbike and if he needs back up, he can always shout up.’

  ‘Cheers, Ben, thanks for that. Hopefully I won’t need you for long.’ Dylan squeezed Jen’s hand across the table. ‘Right madam,’ he said. ‘Let’s take Max for a walk, the exercise and fresh air will do me good.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so pleased it’s working out for you Jack, at last.’ His arm was round her shoulders and he pulled her closer to him as they walked. ‘It’s been a difficult one, hasn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah it has, but how can you tell?’ He stood still and faced her. She gently ran her fingers over his face.

  ‘Oh, little things like your eyes are clearer now and less hooded. Your face seems less lined, less stressed.’ She reached up and kissed the tip of his nose. They walked hand in hand. ‘And it’s good to know that in a short while I’ll have you back again.’ She hugged him as they walked through the woods away from prying eyes. ‘When it’s finished, can we go on holiday?’ she asked.

  ‘Too true we can, I need some time to spoil you.’ He looked down at her and smiled lovingly.

  ‘Good,’ she said as she kissed him.

  The next few hours were going to drag for Jack. He couldn’t wait to grab the murderer’s collar.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The elation, excitement, and anticipation could be felt in the incident room as Dylan walked through the next morning. Never before had he seen it looking so busy so early.

  ‘Morning, sir,’ Lisa said cheerfully as she placed a cup of coffee on his desk. He had a long ‘to do’ list after waking at four o’clock to scribble reminders blindly on bits of paper. Finally he’d given in, switched on the light and written them on a pad instead. Jen had groaned and muttered something about him being insane and then promptly fallen back to sleep. He couldn’t disagree.

  His first call was to the review team.

  ‘Is no other bugger in before nine?’ he growled as Larry entered the room.

  Last night’s rancid ale oozed from every pore in his body. ‘Morning,’ he mumbled with his head down as he stood in Dylan’s doorway. He swung his leg idly, kicking out into fresh air like a sulking teenager. He looked as if he had slept in the suit he had on, the little knot in his tie dragged down to allow his top button to be open.

  Dylan was not impressed but carried on talking as if he hadn’t noticed. He wasn’t in any mood for a confrontation; he had too much to do. ‘I’ve left a message for the review team telling them that there’ve been developments, but no details, so if anyone rings and I’m not here that’s what it’s about. We’ve a lot to do today, Larry, I hope you’re fit?’

  ‘Yeah, just need a minute or so to come round,’ he yawned, shaking his head. Dylan would have liked to shake it for him.

  Dawn flounced in bright and breezy. ‘Morning,’ she hollered cheerfully. ‘My god, have you been out all night? You look like shit.’ Larry ignored her. Dawn pursed her lips, ‘Ouch, touchy,’ she mouthed to Dylan.

  ‘Anything new, boss?’ Larry asked.

  ‘No. Dawn, will you check with the cells and make sure they’re ready?’

  ‘Consider it done, sir.’

  Dylan picked up the phone. ‘Ben, it’s Jack Dylan. Is our man still at home?’

  ‘Yep, no movement. Is your strike time still tomorrow at 07.30 hours?’

  ‘That’s right. I’ll be seeking confirmation from you that he’s still on site at seven.’

  ‘I’ll get one of the obs men to call you, unless anything happens before.’

  ‘Thanks, Ben, and tell the boys and girls I’m grateful.’

  ‘Dawn, will you speak to Clive, Fran, and Janice and let the FLOs know what’s happening? Remind them the information is not for the Spencers’ or the Hinds’ ears at the moment. You can update them once we know more.’

  ‘Will do.’

  Larry sat very still in his chair; he leant forward and held his head in his hands, belching loudly.

  ‘For God’s sake go have a shower and get something to eat, whatever it takes. You’re no damn use to me in this state.’ Dylan raised his shoulders and sighed deeply. Without a response, Larry slid off his chair and dragged his feet out of the office. Dawn’s head remained down and her eyes were fixed to her work. She knew Dylan understood better than most bosses what his officers had to deal with on a daily basis and
he made allowances, but she also knew Larry had annoyed him and that wasn’t a wise move.

  ‘I’m remaining calm and focused,’ Dylan announced, sitting up straight, splaying his hands on his desk and breathing in deeply as he tried to stay composed. ‘It’s a shame all detective sergeants aren’t like you, Dawn.’ He yawned as he exhaled. ‘I’m going to try and get hold of Francis Boscombe, our profiler, and see if there is anything he can help us with.’

  ‘Well at least he’s linked the murders for you,’ Boscombe confirmed. ‘He’s also kept trophies, which I suggest means he has some grudge against them, or wants to hurt someone close to them.’

  ‘Mm … our thoughts too.’

  ‘Regarding the interview strategy, what sort of approach do you feel would get the best response from the murderer?’ asked Dylan.

  ‘I suggest softly, softly.’

  Dylan was contemplating the interview as he replaced the receiver; Dawn spoke, breaking his reverie. ‘Are we going to let the FLOs tell the families of the arrest, once we have him in?’ she asked, her chin in her fist, her elbow on the desk.

  ‘We’ll have to; otherwise they might hear it on the TV or radio. Give the FLOs the go-ahead once we’ve made the arrest and tell them we’ll update them as soon as we can. Stress that it might be some time before we can tell them any more. Boscombe didn’t have much else to give us that we didn’t already know. I don’t know about his suggestion of a soft approach, though.’

  Vicky was back from depositing the sock, material, and other exhibits at forensic when Larry returned to the fold, looking much better than when he had left, much to Dylan’s relief. The last thing he needed was unnecessary distraction. Dylan flashed him a yellow card as he walked in the office, like a referee would as a warning on the field. Larry nodded in acknowledgement. Usually Dylan would have blasted him out of the water, but not today. It was a day to savour the mood of the impending arrest, so this time Larry was very fortunate and he knew it.

  The meeting to discuss the interview approach and the arrest commenced. Dawn and Larry sat, pens poised, as Dylan began. ‘I want the house covered front and back, then it’ll be a knock on the front door.’ Dylan tapped his fist on the table. ‘He lives with his wife, Pauline. We will need someone to talk to her when he’s arrested and taken from the house. Larry, how about you dealing with Mrs Wilkinson-Little?’

  ‘Er … do I have a choice?’ Larry brushed invisible fluff from his dark trousers as he spoke. He reminded Dylan of a spoilt child at times.

  ‘Not after this morning’s episode you don’t, no. You ought to think yourself lucky you’re even coming on the lock up. Once she’s calmed down, I presume you can come away. Remember, it’s going to be one hell of a shock to her. I want you back here as soon as possible and she can be seen later for a statement. I’ll make the arrest for both murders. I intend to treat him with kid gloves unless he kicks off. After all, I want him to talk to us and it’ll be a lot easier in interview if he does. Dawn, I’ll have you with me in the interview. We’ll see what he starts off saying and then play it by ear. I’d like to deal with the murders in order, but we’ll see how it goes. It’s nearly briefing time. Anything else you think we need to cover?’ he asked them both.

  ‘Media, boss. Are we going to have a pre-arranged statement to be released at a specific time?’

  ‘Yeah, I thought so, I drafted this. “A forty-five year old man from Tandem Bridge was arrested today in connection with the murders of Daisy Charlotte Hind and Christopher Francis Spencer.” However, we won’t release it till late morning. Right then, let’s tell the team what’s going to take place tomorrow.’ Dylan was keyed up and eager to get on.

  Walking along the corridor to the briefing room, he could hear the team’s laughter, mimicking, teasing, and fun. I’m going to have to hold the reins tight on this lot, he thought. Once they knew, it would be like showing a dog a rabbit. Dylan himself was on a high; he was smiling inside, but his grin could not reach his lips. He had to hold a solemn face, the serious approach. He had arrested a murder suspect many times before, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to see the surprised look on Wilkinson-Little’s face when he felt his collar. Dylan could already feel his adrenaline pumping just at the thought of it, but he had to suppress it to make sure he remembered everything he had to say at the briefing. They’d worked so hard to get this far and nothing was going to spoil it now. He didn’t want any mistakes or any transgression that could prejudice the case.

  Jack Dylan and the two detective sergeants strode into the room. The noise cut to silence. The room itself was indifferent, unaffected by the enormity of it all. There were desks and chairs strewn about haphazardly so everyone could fit in. Larry closed the door and joined Dawn and Dylan at the front of the audience. Dylan spoke.

  ‘Tomorrow morning at seven-thirty we will arrest a suspect whom we believe to be our murderer. He will be brought here to Harrowfield HQ. We have recovered Christopher’s sock and also part of Daisy’s bridesmaid dress, which have been positively identified by their families and are now with forensic.’ The room remained perfectly still. ‘The target is Harold Wilkinson-Little.’

  There were instantaneous murmurs and mutterings around the room, heads turned, people whispered into each other’s ears behind cupped hands. ‘Yes,’ Dylan continued, ‘Most of you will know him. He is our property clerk. He’s obviously been amongst us since the beginning of these incidents. Tomorrow he’ll be with us in a completely different capacity. At this time his house is under surveillance. His wife Pauline works at Tesco. A lot of hard work has been done so far, but there’ll be a lot more to do when he’s in. Dawn and Larry will give you specific tasks. Remember, I want nothing but a professional approach.’

  The meeting was closed and everyone buzzed around to find out what his or her role would be in the operation.

  Dylan contacted Superintendent Phil Warrington in a confidential e-mail to let him know of the arrest, as promised.

  Jen was pleased when Jack walked in early.

  ‘Steak’s on,’ she called from the kitchen as she heard the door bang. ‘You’ll need your strength to get you through tomorrow, I hear.’

  She placed before him a plate of sirloin steak with fragrant garlic mushrooms, carrots, broccoli, and mashed and roast potatoes, accompanied by a glass of red wine.

  ‘Just eat,’ Jen ordered as she sat down in the chair opposite him; if he started talking, she knew it would go cold. Jack smiled, leaned across the table, holding his tie to his shirt so as not to trail it through the gravy, and kissed her.

  With the exception of a small piece of meat on the corner of his plate, Jack ate the lot. At his side, waiting patiently, was Max. Jack dropped the scrap of steak into the patient dog’s mouth; it never touched the sides.

  ‘That was wonderful, love.’ He was always appreciative, which made Jen love cooking for him. ‘What’s for pudding?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve got hollow legs, mister. Treacle sponge and custard. I hope you’ve left room.’ She was standing at the sink running the washing up water as she turned to him and smiled. ‘Then you can go into the lounge, put your feet up and watch the news whilst you’re reading the evening paper. I’ll bring you coffee when I’ve cleaned up here.’ Jack stood up from the table and went to snuggle up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling his face into her neck. ‘Did I ever say “thank you” for loving me?’ he asked, kissing her neck softly. ‘You spoil me, you know.’

  ‘I like spoiling you. Oh, by the way I called in at Tesco, so there’re plenty of bananas for you to take tomorrow, plus an apple, water, and two packs of doughnuts for the team.’ Jen busied herself clearing the table. ‘I bumped into my friend who works there. She used to look after Max for me when I went to Mum and Dad’s before I met you. I haven’t seen her for ages.’

  ‘That’s lovely, and guess what? That’s where our man’s wife works.’

  ‘Eek. Oh gosh, I bet she knows her.’

&n
bsp; ‘Well, it’s not as if she’s done anything wrong, poor woman,’ Jack called as he walked down the hall and up the stairs to the bathroom. As he passed their bedroom, he noticed Jen had already hung his suit, shirt and lucky tie on the wardrobe door for the next day. He shook his head in disbelief. She really was amazing.

  Five thirty in the morning and Dylan was buzzing, ready for off. He hadn’t slept much, tossing and turning in anticipation of the arrest, but surprisingly he felt fresh and wide awake. The day felt cool as he left the house, there was a morning mist, and the slight breeze had a bite. It was so quiet and still; it felt eerie as he drove to work. Larry arrived as Dylan parked his car and they walked into the incident room together. Luckily it was a very different Larry from the previous day.

  ‘Morning, you two,’ shouted Dawn, looking over her shoulder from where she stood making coffee. That’s more like it, thought Dylan.

  As promised, on the nail the call came in from the Obs team.

  ‘Boss,’ said the caller in a hushed tone. ‘Your target hasn’t moved. Best of luck. We’ll move away once your cars arrive.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Dylan said, and replaced the receiver. ‘Arrest time, you lot.’ he growled.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dylan and Dawn travelled in silence, each nursing their own emotions. They’d waited a long time for this day.

  The small convoy of six vehicles moved slowly. Five plain vehicles and one marked car crept down the cul-de-sac, tyres crunching the gravel, until they each took their positions to surround the house. The officers moved forward as one to number twelve and stopped.