by Sally Rigby
‘Glad to help.’
‘Okay, what are we going to tell them at the press conference? Should we warn people not to travel by rail on Sunday?’
‘If you single out Sunday, the murderer may break his routine and carry out the next kill another day. I think we’re better off telling people to only travel if it’s absolutely necessary.’
‘That makes sense,’ Whitney said nodding.
‘You can tell the public we’re making progress with our enquiries.’
‘The usual fob off. But I’m not sure that will cut it. And it certainly won’t keep Jamieson happy. I think we should tell them about the definite link between the other murders. It was obvious, but we haven’t yet confirmed it.’
‘Yes. And the murderer will see the news and believe we’re nowhere near catching him.’
‘Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it.’
‘It’s what I’m here for.’
‘I’m off to see Jamieson shortly. What are you going to do for the rest of the day?’
‘I need to go back to work. I’ve exam papers to mark, which can’t wait, as I’m out Thursday evening, and they have to be back by Friday.’
‘Another date with the sculptor?’ Whitney grinned.
‘Yes, we’re going to the theatre.’
‘And are you going to ask him about the wedding?’
‘I’m not sure.’ She hated being stuck in this world of indecision. It was too hard to cope with.
‘I thought we’d already decided you weren’t going on your own.’
‘Is it fair to Ross to inflict my family on him?’
‘I’m surprised you’re even thinking that. You’ve certainly come a long way in the short time I’ve known you.’
‘What’s that meant to mean?’ she asked, even though she suspected she knew the answer.
‘All I mean is you putting yourself in someone else’s shoes is something you’ve struggled with in the past, but now you seem to be doing quite well.’
‘You mean I’ve become more empathic.’
‘Whatever the technical term is, then yes.’
‘I’ll think about it. I might ask him but won’t be offended if he says no. It’s not like we’re in a committed relationship.’
‘You can always take me. I’d love to go to some fancy wedding at Westminster Abbey. How do you think I’d fit in with your family?’
Was she being serious? It would be interesting to take Whitney. She could just imagine the family’s response.
‘Umm … I’m sure they’d love you.’
‘And I’m sure they wouldn’t.’
‘I’ve got a curriculum meeting tomorrow so don’t know what time I’ll be in, if at all. It could last for hours.’
‘Don’t worry. It’s going to be head down, bum up for the team, so we can work out which trains he’ll be targeting on Sunday. Come in whenever you can. I’ll keep in touch with any developments.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
Monday, 17 June
Whitney followed Jamieson into the press conference. As usual, the room was teeming with reporters, and the cameramen were at the back. Melissa, their PR officer, took the mic first.
‘Thank you for coming in. I’d like to hand you over to Detective Superintendent Jamieson.’ She slid the mic over to him.
‘Good afternoon. I’ve called you in today to inform you a body was found on the Milton Keynes to Lenchester train earlier today. We believe this murder is linked to the two other recent suspicious deaths.’
‘Can you confirm this is the work of the Carriage Killer?’ a reporter in the front row called out.
‘We are treating it as such.’
‘Could it be a copycat?’ another reporter asked.
‘As far as we’re aware, no. But we’re not excluding that avenue from our lines of enquiry.’
‘In the past, there have been exactly two weeks between the first and fourth murders. Does that mean you’re expecting another on Sunday?’ the reporter continued.
‘We are working on the assumption there will be another murder attempt, unless we catch the perpetrator in the meantime.’
‘How likely is that?’ the reporter continued.
‘I’ll hand over to DCI Walker, and she’ll give you more information regarding the actual investigation.’
This was the bit she didn’t like, being put on the spot. She took the mic from Jamieson.
‘Thank you, sir.’ She looked at the sea of faces staring back at her. ‘We anticipate a fourth murder will be attempted some time on Sunday.’
‘Why don’t you shut the line for the day?’ someone called out.
‘It’s not our decision to make. That would be down to the Central Group. We’re asking people to only travel by train if it’s absolutely necessary.’
‘But after Sunday, the killer will disappear until they show up somewhere else,’ the reporter continued.
‘That’s likely, but we can’t discount the fact they may change their MO. We want everyone to keep a lookout, and if you do have plans to take the train, please travel in pairs, if at all possible. We do know the killer strikes someone on their own, with usually no other person in the carriage, but never with more than two or three people. We all have to be vigilant.’ She passed the mic back to Melissa, who ended the conference.
They all left the room together, although Melissa went on ahead, while Whitney and Jamieson stopped to talk.
‘I didn’t agree with your comment for people not to travel by train from now on. I thought it was a bit extreme,’ he said.
‘We have to keep people on their toes.’
‘It soon won’t be our issue.’
She stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. Did he have no concern for the victims, or were they just a name and number to him?
‘It will always be our issue, until such time as the perp is caught.’
‘What are your plans to minimise the chances of the fourth murder happening?’ he asked.
‘We’ll be working out potential train targets and making sure we have officers on them all.’
‘Officers who actually do their job this time. You were lucky the press didn’t pounce on the fact we were patrolling the train when this latest murder happened.’
‘Yes, sir.’ He was right, and she was surprised he hadn’t balled her out over it. She’d fully expected to be blamed. ‘We’re also continuing to research likely suspects, using all the data we have from previous murders, to see if we can find any links between them.’
‘Well, keep going. I, for one, will be glad when Sunday is over and we’re not the sole focus of attention. I want us to catch the murderer, obviously. But as we’re only one out of four areas where he’s struck, if we don’t solve the case it won’t look too bad.’
Whitney stared at him, open-mouthed. Was that all he cared about? How they looked? His behaviour astounded her sometimes.
‘That’s not going to stop my team doing their best to catch him.’
‘That’s not what I meant,’ he said.
Before she had time to reply, they’d reached the stairs, and he marched up them. Glad to be away from him, she carried on walking. She needed some time alone, as she’d got a resourcing report to look at, that Jamieson had asked her opinion on. The note attached to it had asked for her comments by the end of the day. It was like he’d totally forgotten her attention should be focused on formulating a strategy for stopping the murderer. Then again, after his last comments…
‘Has she seen it?’ Whitney overheard Terry say to Matt as she walked through the incident room towards her office.
‘Has she seen what?’ she demanded.
The two officers started at the sound of her voice.
‘This,’ Matt said, pointing to an open newspaper on the desk.
She stepped forward and leaned in to take a look.
‘What the fuck?’ Staring her in the face, in bold red letters were the words:
£10,000 reward for inform
ation leading to the capture of the Carriage Killer
‘It’s Transwide, guv. They’ve advertised this reward in the local paper and all over the net,’ Matt said.
‘Without checking with me first? You know what this means, don’t you? The phones will be ringing off the hook, and we’ll have to deal with anyone and everyone who thinks they can make a quick buck by coming up with some fanciful story,’ she said without giving them a chance to answer. ‘How could they be such idiots? Why didn’t they run it past me first?’ She could cheerfully strangle the lot of them.
‘I did mention they were a loose cannon,’ Terry said.
‘Actually, no you didn’t. You said they interfered in the investigation. You didn’t mention how they’d attempted to sabotage it,’ she snapped, immediately regretting her response, as it wasn’t his fault.
‘What are you going to do?’ Matt asked.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost five-thirty, so pointless getting in touch with them now. ‘I’ll pay Judy Tucker a visit tomorrow and demand an explanation.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tuesday, 18 June
Whitney sat in the Transwide reception, drumming her fingers on her leg. This was ridiculous. She’d been waiting over half an hour to speak to Judy Tucker. Matt had phoned in advance and arranged the appointment. It was frustrating enough the woman wasn’t available until the afternoon, but the fact she was late wasn’t acceptable.
‘DCI Walker?’ She looked up as the woman’s assistant, Iris, stood there. ‘Please will you come with me. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Judy’s meeting went over time.’
She followed in silence to the COO’s office. Iris opened the door, and Judy stood.
‘Come in,’ she said, smiling at Whitney.
‘We’ve got a problem,’ Whitney said, dispensing with any pleasantries. ‘The reward.’
‘I wondered if that’s what you were here about,’ the woman replied.
‘Why didn’t you discuss it with me first? If you had, we wouldn’t be in such a difficult position.’
‘It was a decision made by the Senior Management Team. We can’t sit back and let this continue. We have the business to think about.’
‘If you’d have told me, I’d have explained that rather than moving the investigation forward, you’ve probably succeeded in setting it back.’
‘How can that be? Has the reward generated a response?’
‘Of course it has. And now we have to use officers, whose time is better spent elsewhere on the investigation, to follow up on the hundreds of calls coming in, the majority of which are freeloaders trying to get some money.’
‘But that doesn’t mean you won’t find information which will lead you to the killer.’
‘That could take days. And we don’t have the time if we’re going to stop the last murder that’s due to happen in Lenchester. At the moment, we’re close to identifying possible trains the killer will be targeting. It’s our best chance of catching him. Unlike going down the rabbit hole of following up on every phone call we receive from people who have seen your reward offer.’ She sat in silence, waiting for her words to have some impact.
‘I understand,’ the woman finally responded. ‘What can we do?’
‘Take down everything from the net relating to the reward and don’t advertise it again in the newspapers. Can you do that?’
‘I’ll try. I need to speak to the Chief Executive.’
‘Thank you. And while I’m here, what happened to the list of people who were made redundant in 2014?’ she asked. ‘My officer has contacted you several times, to no avail.’ Not that they’d have time to go through all thousand names straight away.
Judy coloured slightly. ‘I’ll get onto it. I don’t have the information to hand. It will be with one of the managers in the HR department.’
‘Here’s my card. Email it directly to me as soon as you have it.’ Whitney handed it to her as she stood and left the office.
She made it back to the station by three and, after speaking to the team to see how they were doing, she went to her office. On the desk was a message asking her to phone Claire. She called the pathologist straight away.
‘It’s Whitney,’ she said once Claire had answered.
‘I want you at the lab for my initial findings from the murder.’
‘Can we do this over the phone?’ She really didn’t have time to spare.
‘No.’
‘Okay, I’ll be with you shortly,’ she said, realising it was pointless arguing with the woman. Especially as it wasn’t like Claire to demand a face-to-face. Usually she got rid of them as quickly as she could and preferred to talk on the phone, so it had to be important.
She grabbed her bag and coat from the back of the chair and went through to the incident room. ‘Terry,’ she said after spotting him sitting at his desk and walking over.
‘Yes?’
‘You’re coming with me.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘To see Dr Dexter, our pathologist. She has her initial findings on the latest murder.’
‘Can’t she email her report?’ he asked, frowning.
‘No. She wants to see us.’
‘Okay. If you’re happy for us to leave the investigation and pander to her whims.’ He shook his head as he stood and put on his jacket.
She knew exactly what he was thinking—his ‘tail-wagging-the-dog’ comment he’d made when he’d first arrived. She was looking forward to seeing first-hand how he’d deal with Claire. She smiled to herself.
‘Yes, I am. So, let’s go.’
When they arrived at the morgue, they walked into the building and down the corridor to the lab. Claire was sitting at her desk, scowling at the computer screen. She was wearing navy and white spotted wide-leg trousers, and a bright green and red blouse with a bow at the neck. One day she’d pluck up the courage to ask her where she bought her clothes. They were nothing like Whitney had ever seen.
‘Is everything okay? You’re looking puzzled.’
‘Puzzled is one way of putting it. I’d say bloody furious,’ Claire said.
‘What’s happened?’
‘The funding I wanted for a new MDCT has been turned down by a committee of arsewipes who swan around like they’re God, just because they hold the purse strings.’
‘MCDT?’
‘Multidetector computed tomography machine. But that’s not what’s annoyed me. The very next email I received was the staff newsletter, telling us how much they’re spending on new ultrasound equipment. How come others get what they want, and I don’t? Just because I’m dealing with dead people. And don’t tell me we have finite levels of funding.’ Claire waved her finger in Whitney’s direction. ‘Is he with you?’ She nodded at Terry.
‘This is DI Terry Gardner from the Regional Force. He’s helping us on the case. Terry, this is Dr Dexter, our pathologist.’
‘Good to meet you. And sorry to hear about your funding.’ Terry held out his hand, but Claire didn’t shake it.
‘Why are you sorry? It’s nothing to do with you. Let’s get on. There’s no point in me being angry now. I’ll save it until later, over my whisky.’
Claire put on her white lab coat and disposable gloves and headed out into the main area, where Neil Thomas’s body was stretched out on the centre stainless steel table. Whitney and Terry followed. The pathologist reached up and angled the overhead light, so the upper body was lit.
Terry stepped forward and leaned in to take a look.
‘What are you doing?’ Claire asked.
‘Looking at the body,’ Terry said.
‘You’re in my way.’ She turned to look at Whitney. ‘Didn’t you tell him how I operate?’
‘I thought I’d leave it to you to do the honours.’
‘Would someone care to explain?’ Terry said, looking from Whitney to Claire.
Whitney turned her head to hide the smirk she was unable to prevent from appearing on her face. They mi
ght be getting along better now, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun.
‘You stand where I tell you and keep out of my way. You may ask questions when I say you can. I operate on a basis of three strikes and you’re out,’ Claire said.
It couldn’t have worked out better if Whitney had actually primed the woman herself.
Terry looked at Whitney, his brow furrowed.
‘What Claire means is, if you ask more than three questions which she doesn’t wish to answer then you have to leave. Is that right, Claire?’ she said.
Whitney was guessing, as this was the first she’d heard of the rule.
‘How do I know what questions you’re prepared to answer?’ Terry asked Claire.
‘Strike one,’ she said.
Terry glared at Claire and folded his arms.
‘Okay. We all know how it goes. Can we start now, as we have to get back?’ Whitney said.
‘This murder’s slightly different from the others,’ Claire said.
‘In what way?’ She edged forward and stared at the body.
‘The victim struggled, and when the knife was inserted it hit one of the ribs and some of the blade snapped off. I found it lodged in the lungs.’ From the trolley beside her, she picked up a silver bowl. In there was a small piece of metal, about an inch in length. She lifted it out and showed it to Whitney. ‘This is the end of the blade.’
‘May I look?’ Terry said.
‘You may,’ Claire replied.
‘How come he struggled if he’d been given the chloroform?’ Terry asked as he stepped forward and stood next to Whitney.
‘The chemical possibly took a little longer to work. It doesn’t always affect everyone in the same way.’
‘Can you identify the knife from that small piece?’ Whitney asked.
‘We’re looking into it. We know from the size of the tip, plus the wound width and depth, the blade used was smooth and five inches in length. See the bruising around the entry point?’ Claire pointed to purple and yellow discolouration of the skin. ‘This is from the rim between the blade and handle. It’s typical of a hunting knife.’
