From the size of the laceration, were talking about something sharp with a five- to six-inch blade. Not too wide, but pointed. No serrations. Weve not found any traces of rust in the wound and, unfortunately, the nature of the attack means that it missed any bones or ribs, so there arent any metal fragments that would allow us to identify the knife more precisely. Jordan shrugged. I suspect that were looking at a run-of-the-mill stainless steel kitchen knife, unused, or at least well cleaned before the attack. Assuming there was any premeditation, it may have been bought anywhere from a supermarket chain to a hardware store. Find me the weapon and I might be able tell you more, but until then Im speculating.
Warren sighed. Theyd found the victims wallet, but nothing else. So it could still be a bog-standard, mugging gone wrong?
Jordan shook his head. Im not so sure. He picked up the folder that hed brought the photographs in. Leaving aside all the inconsistencies, the precision of the killing worries mea single stab wound to the heart. Its very clean. Straight into the diaphragm, missing the sternum and ribs, but angled upward directly into the heart. Ordinarily, Id be happy to dismiss that as good luck. But theres also the dog.
How was it killed? I didnt see any blood.
Jordan pulled out another sheet of paper. According to the vet, its neck was broken. A shattered jaw suggests a single kick, snapping its head back with such force the cervical vertebrae were fractured.
Warren felt a chill go down his back. What are you suggesting, Professor?
A perfectly targeted, instantly fatal single stab wound to the heart with no opportunity for the victim to defend himself and a precisely killed dog, both concealed quickly with little trace evidence left behindI think were dealing with a trained killer.
Tuesday 27th March
Chapter 5
Warren was back at his desk well before seven a.m. Tuesday morning. The proverbial ticking of the clock had weighed heavily on his mind the previous night, resulting in broken and restless sleep. By late afternoon Menendez had been getting impatient and making noises about getting a lawyer so Warren had authorised his release, knowing that if Menendez was innocent, the suspect column would soon be empty. Before he left, Warren broke the news of Reggie Williamsons murder to him. The mans look of incredulity, then horror as he realised that he had been a suspect, strengthened Warrens suspicion that he was not who he was looking for. Regardless, he had been unable to resist one last dig at the man who had caused Tabitha Williamson so much misery and was probably fleecing the hapless Candice even now.
I have my eye on you, Menendez. If your name comes across my desk in future, Ill remember. And Ill be happy to pass on the details of anyone else youve been ripping off.
It was an empty threat. Low-level identity theft and fraud never came anywhere near Warrens deskbut Menendez didnt know that. Hed looked suitably shaken as he left.
It was a small victory, but at the moment, Warren was taking them where he could.
By six a.m, Warren had finally given up on sleep and slipped out early, taking care not to wake Susan.
Professor Jordan had calculated a preliminary time of death roughly sixty to seventy hours before the body was found, which, allowing for the weekends clock change, made it between about eight p.m. on the Thursday evening and four on the Friday morning. The range fitted with Williamsons mobile phone leaving the network at eight-thirty on the Thursday.
It had got dark at approximately six-fifteen that evening, which if Menendez was to be believed was the time at which he had left the park and returned home. Candice, his partner, had returned from her Zumba class just after nine-thirty and confirmed that Menendez had been sprawled across the sofa watching TV.
Warren had passed on the details of Menendezs mobile phone to the team working their way through the cell dump and was waiting to see if it would confirm his movements. Fortunately, the man was an avid social networker and his phone regularly connected itself to the network to look for new content. The team had already confirmed that the common and the flat Menendez shared with his partner were far enough apart for the phone to use different cell towers at the different locations.
The search of the common by the forensic team had not found any more clues within a two-hundred-metre radius of the bodys dumping spot, and DSI Grayson had authorised the cost of emptying all of the bins within a kilometre radius. It was almost a certainty that the killer would have had to dispose of heavily bloodied clothes and possibly even the murder weapon. Unless hed covered himself up, he was unlikely to have walked too far before doing so; even in the dark, the chances of being seen would have been too great for any sane person to have risked it, Warren decided. Warren just hoped that the killer was at least partly sane. Otherwise all bets were off.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It was getting long; it probably needed a cut. Too late for that now. The press conference was scheduled for the late morning. Grayson, as usual, had mysteriously disappeared the previous afternoon and Warren was willing to bet good money that hed be immaculately groomed for the cameras later.
There had been little to report overnight and he didnt expect anything until after the morning briefing, so Warren poured himself another coffee and settled down to do some paperwork. He chafed at the forced inaction, but took solace in the fact that if he could shrink his inbox to a more manageable size now he would be able to focus more clearly on the days and weeks ahead. That was the theory at least.
DSI Grayson still hadnt appeared by the time that Warren needed to leave Middlesbury to travel down to Welwyn Garden City for the press conference and Graysons mobile was going straight to voicemail. This suited Warren fine, as he could drive himself down to the Countys Headquarters. The cost of petrol was well worth it to avoid the terror of the high-speed jaunt down the A1 that Grayson favoured. The superintendent had the unsettling habit of finding the most reckless drivers in the pool, authorising use of blues and twos, then settling back and calmly playing with his Blackberry, whilst Warrennot a happy passenger at the best of timeswould find himself stamping on an imaginary brake pedal all the way.
Tabitha Williamson and Karen Hardwick were waiting for him when he arrived. The young DC had insisted on driving around to pick Tabitha up, despite technically being off duty.
Grayson was apparently somewhere in the building in a meeting. Warren knew nothing about it, which suggested it was unlikely to be connected to the day-to-day workings of Middlesbury CID. Laying the groundwork for that next promotion, Warren thought sourly, before mentally pinching himself for his uncharitable thoughtsthe meeting could be about anything from budget setting to a statistical analysis of their latest performance figures. If that was the case, Grayson was welcome to it.
Tabitha Williamson was nervous and pale, but nonetheless adamant that she wanted to make an appeal for information. The Forces press officer therefore took her away to familiarise her with the set-up of the briefing room and explain to her what to expect. Karen Hardwick went with her.
Shes turning into a fine young officer, that Karen Hardwick. Grayson had pulled his uncanny trick of managing to appear, ghost-like and without Warren noticing. He was glad that the units commander had noticed her.
She is. Shes got good instincts. Having said that, shes doing the role of a family liaison officer, which isnt her job. I know Reggie Williamson wasnt Tabitha Williamsons father and he didnt bring her up, but shes pretty vulnerable. Any chance that we can get an FLO authorised to support her?
Grayson pursed his lips; the money didnt come out of Middlesbury CIDs budget, but it had to come from somewhere and Grayson was the one whod have to ask for it.
Ill look into it. No sort of answer really, but at least it wasnt a flat no.
By the time the press arrived, Tabitha Williamson had been prepared as much as possible and they took their seats. Warren had a feeling that information from the public could be what would turn the case and so they needed to make the story as newsworthy as possible. The inclusion of a photograph of Smiths and images of the grieving Tabitha Williamson would hopefully gain the story a few more column inches in the newspapers and a few more seconds on the local news.
They needed all the help they could get; Warren couldnt help comparing the half-filled room of bored journalists in front of him, waiting to hear about the death of a retired gardener in his sixties, to the packed and jostling crowd that had demanded information about the pretty, young, blonde women who had started disappearing before Christmas.
The press conference was over in time for the early evening news bulletins and first editions of the next days papers and, finally, Warren was free to return to CID. It was hardly worth it. A cursory read of his teams summaries of the interviews conducted with Reggie Williamsons former acquaintances revealed nothing of any interest. The office was depressingly quiet. He stifled a yawn and glanced at his watch; the local news was due to start in twenty minutes or so. Time to go home, he decided, fighting down a brief twinge of guilt. His team had his number if anything important turned up and there was no point sitting there twiddling his thumbs. Perhaps hed be able to sleep a bit better this evening? Turning off his computer and grabbing his jacket, Warren felt a familiar sensation of frustration. Day three of the investigation was almost over and almost nothing was happening. Not a good sign. Lets hope for something from the public appeal, he prayed as he turned his office light off.
* * *
Despite his best intentions, Warren had been unable to resist accessing his email, reading the various reports as they entered his inbox and before he knew it, it was late again. He rubbed his eyes. They were at the slightly stinging stage. From experience he knew that the next stage was grittiness, then bloodshot eyes, then blurred vision. He had a suspicion that this would be one of those times. On the way home, hed stopped off at the garage and bought some paracetamol. Headaches were almost guaranteed over the next few weeks and he wanted to be prepared. What a job. At least he could look forward to a quiet time at homeor at least thats what hed expected.
Mum and Dad are coming down for a few days, at the end of the Easter holidays to celebrate their wedding anniversary, Susan had announced as they prepared for bed. Theyre going to spend a few days with us before spending some time with Felicity.
Warren had managed not to groan out loud, but his expression had given him away. Susan had poutedshe found her domineering mother to be as hard work as Warren did, but that didnt mean he was allowed to criticise her.
Sorry sweetheart, its just bad timing. Id hate for this thing to get in the way of the celebrations.
Susan had been somewhat mollified, but she had done the sums the same as Warren; the school Easter holidays started at the end of the week, with the long weekend a week later.
Is this going to be a big one, do you think? shed asked after the press conference had been aired on Look East, earlier that evening.
Warren had only been able to nod. His gut was telling him that it was going to be a protracted investigation. The lack of progress so far had deflated him somewhat. Their plans for the Easter vacation would be on hold; at least they hadnt booked to go away anywhere.
Susan had picked up on his mood. You looked handsome tonightI cant understand why they dont give you more screen time, she teased lightly.
I can never compete with a Border collie, you know that.
Just as hed predicted, Smiths had received almost as much screen time as Reggie Williamsonmore if you counted the fact that she was also in the photograph of Reggie. Still, if it jogged a few more memories or made a few more people look in their bins or gardens for discarded items of bloodied clothing, Reggie Williamsons mobile phone or the murder weapon then it had done its job. As usual, Warren had found himself relegated to the background, behind John Grayson, who was resplendent in a freshly starched dress uniform. That suited him fine, he mused as he lay back on the pillow, willing sleep to take him.
Wednesday 28th March
Chapter 6
The third dawn briefing since the discovery of Reggie Williamsons body was a low-key affair. If, as they believed, he had been killed Thursday evening it was coming up on six days since his murder. Aside from the increasingly unlikely Mateo Menendez, there were still no suspects. CCTV from McDonalds had shown Menendez with his two young children tucking into their fast food at about four p.m, verifying that part of his story. The confirmation said nothing about his whereabouts at the critical time surrounding the murder, but catching him out in a lie at this stage would have made Warren immediately suspicious.
The search area had been widened; they still hadnt found his mobile phone or the murder weapon. Teams of uniformed officers were still knocking on doors, but nobody seemed to remember anything. As always the press conference had generated a flurry of calls, which were being sifted through, but aside from a confession, nothing of immediate note had been offered.
As for the admission of guilt, the call taker had wryly noted that it had been logged alongside the callers previous claims. If the moreeccentricmembers of the community ever thought to use a different phone, then the call takers job would be more difficult, since theyd be forced to actually investigate the call rather than simply cross-referencing the caller ID against the Loony List.
As Warren left the briefing room, Tony Sutton came alongside him.
Can I have a private word?
The older man looked tired; in his left hand he carried a white envelope.
Warren motioned him into his office and sat down behind his desk. Sutton took the visitors chair directly opposite. The mans hands were trembling slightly.
Sounds serious, Warren offered after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.
This arrived in the post this morning.
Sutton pushed the envelope across the table. Now face up, the scales of justice logo of the Crown Prosecution Service was clearly visible. Warren slipped out the single sheet of A4 typed paper and read the contents quickly. It was a summons ordering Sutton to appear as a witness for the prosecution in the trial of Detective Chief Inspector Gavin Sheehy on charges of corruption and misconduct in a public office.
Damn. We always knew it was a possibility. What do you think they want with you?