The professors throat had been slit, clearly by something very sharp. Whoever had wielded the blade had done so efficiently. It looked to Jones eye as if the blade had managed to sever both carotid arteries. If that was the case, it put a different complexion on the attack. Contrary to Hollywood movies, cutting the throat of a surprised man wasnt a simple affair. The victim would almost certainly have struggled. Looking closer, Jones could see that, aside from the cut throat, the back of the professors head facing away from the doorway looked to be a bloody mess. On the floor next to the chair sat what appeared to be a large lump of granite rock on a pedestal, blood and matted hair covering a particularly prominent edge. Jones could just make out the words Boulder, Colorado stencilled on the base. A souvenir perhaps? Significant or not?
Jones turned to Sutton.
First impressions, Inspector? he asked quietly. Jones was already formulating a theory himself, but he liked to see what others had to say first.
I reckon he was sitting at the desk, probably working on his laptop by the looks of it. Whoever did it came up behind him and whacked him over the back of the head with that bloody great lump of rock. That probably stunned him enough for his attacker to slit his throat.
Jones nodded. The question is, why didnt he turn around? It looks as though he was facing away from the doorway when he was hit. And then, did his chair turn around after he was hit or whilst his throat was being slit?
Well, either the attacker sneaked up on him, or he knew his attacker was around and wasnt surprised by their approach.
Jones nodded his agreement.
And what about the angle of his chair?
Too early to speculate.
I agree, lets not second-guess Scenes of Crime. Jones was pleased with Suttons response. He was always a little wary of officers who jumped to conclusions without all of the facts. Good detectives, he felt, tempered their deductive reasoning with caution and were honest enough to admit ignorance, rather than stretching the evidence beyond breaking point.
With nothing else to be gained from the bloody office, Jones turned away from the carnage. He glanced at his watch: eleven p.m.
You were complaining how bored you were, Warren. Well, you know what they say: be careful what you wish for.
It looked as though Susan and the in-laws would have to finish the wine without him.
Saturday
Chapter 2
The alarm clock buzzed angrily. With a groan, Warren swiped the OFF button. Prising an eye open, he saw that it was six-thirty. His head felt mushy and his mouth was dry. It seemed as though hed barely closed his eyes. That wasnt a huge exaggeration, given that hed arrived back home at well past four a.m. Resisting the urge to indulge himself in another ten minutes sleep, lest he didnt awaken again, Warren swung his legs out, planting his feet on the woollen rug that covered the floor by the bed. Behind him, Susan grumbled in her sleep and rolled over.
Ordinarily, when Warren worked night shifts or Susan stayed up late marking, the night owl would take the spare bed in the guest room to avoid waking the sleeping partner. With the in-laws visiting that wasnt an option this time. It hadnt mattered though. When Warren had tiptoed into the bedroom, Susan had been flat on her back, her comatose status testimony to the sedative effect of red wine. Indeed, Warren had noticed a second empty bottle on the coffee table in the lounge. He smiled to himself, glad that he wouldnt be here in a few hours when his slumbering wife awoke. Never a morning person at the best of times, Susan also wasnt a big drinker and he suspected she would wake up grumpy and feeling a little the worse for wear.
He padded quietly into the bathroom, passing the guest room on his way. Through the closed door he could hear strident snoring. He wouldnt like to put money on who was the culprit, Bernice or Dennis.
Warren showered quickly and brushed his teeth. The elderly pipes in the house groaned, reminding Warren that he still hadnt called a plumber, but the rhythmic noise from the guest room didnt miss a beat. By now, Warren was feeling marginally more human. As he shaved he stared at the familiar face in the mirror. Aside from a little redness around the eyes and a couple of faint dark smudges beneath them, he didnt look too bad. He still had the good looks that Susan claimed had attracted her years before; a firm jaw and eyes that could switch in an instant between friendly and hard, a trick hed learnt during his earliest days on the force. His dark brown hair, just this side of black and still neat from his trip to the barbers prior to starting this job, had yet to sport its first grey hair, although he was under no illusion that it would be long before his new position changed that.
Creeping back into the master bedroom, Warren slipped on the previous nights suit and tie, remembering this time to retrieve his warrant card from his other jacket. Pausing to look at his slumbering wife, he risked a peck on the lips, tasting the wine on her breath. Still asleep, she nevertheless smiled.
Outside, the sun was already up although it had yet to chase away the nights chill. Warren had grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl before leaving the house, and now crammed the remains of it into his mouth as he unlocked his car. The birds were singing loudly, but the rest of the street was quiet. Most of Warren and Susans neighbours worked regular office hours, so few would be up and about at seven a.m. on a Saturday. Similarly, the roads were quiet and Warren pulled into the small staff car park at the rear of Middlesbury Police Station barely ten minutes later. A few cars dotted the tarmac, most noticeably a brand-new Mercedes. Warren felt his stomach contract: his boss, Detective Superintendent John Grayson, was already in.
Middlesbury Station was something of an anomaly in Hertfordshire. Most of the countys detectives now worked out of the joint Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire Major Crime Unit based in Welwyn Garden City. However, a combination of the distance from Welwyn and the rapid growth of Middlesbury meant that the towns police station sported several custody cells and despite the budget cutbacks had retained its small but fully operational CID unit. Many of the other towns in the local area had to make do with a reception desk manned nine-to-five with an emergency telephone connected to Welwyn for out-of-hours emergencies.
Swiping his access card and keying in his pin number gave Jones access to the building and he headed directly for the largest of the incident rooms. He had scheduled this mornings meeting for eight a.m., timing it to catch the day shift as they came on duty. He glanced at his watch: seven-fifteen. Plenty of time to go over his briefing notes and set up the chairs. As he approached the room he spotted that the door to the superintendents office was ajar. It would be rude not to pop his head in, he decided, plus it wouldnt hurt for the boss to notice how early he was in.
He rapped confidently on the door, his knock answered immediately with a curt, Come in. Stepping in, Jones stopped in surprise. Sprawled in a large, comfy-looking visitors chair, sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee, was Detective Inspector Tony Sutton.
Ah, good morning, Warren. Tony was just filling me in on last nights discovery.
So thats how it is going to be, thought Jones, pushing down a sudden flash of annoyance. His first big case since moving here and already Sutton was trying to muscle in on his territory, ingratiating himself with the boss.
Sutton smirked. Just the juicy bits, guv. Thought Id leave the details to you.
So kind, Tony, commented Jones. If the super noticed the tension crackling between the two men, he gave no sign of it.
This is a big case, Warren. A murder is a nasty business at the best of times, but this one could be especially problematic. The superintendent leant back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily. The vice chancellor of the university phoned me at six this morning, to express his concern and emphasise the need for a speedy resolution. If I ever find out which bugger gave him my home phone number, theyll spend the next twelve months telling primary-school kids not to talk to strangers.
Either way, we do need to solve this quickly and decisively. A murderer running about the campus could be disastrous for the universitys reputation, especially with next months Controversies in Science conference. The guest list for that event looks like a whos who of shit-stirrers. Richard Dawkins and the President of the British Union for the Abolition of Vivisection are some of the less controversial speakers. If they think we cant guarantee their safety, the organisers may well cancel the conference or, worse, up sticks to bloody Cambridge.
Sutton grunted. Rumour has it, Kings College wanted to host it, but Channel 4, who are footing the bill, reckoned it would seem too elitist. You can bet theyll be the first in line to offer their facilities again if we lose the conference.
Jones tried to hide his puzzlement. They seemed to be taking this whole thing rather personally. During his time in the West Midlands, Jones had worked dozens of serious cases linked to the regions several universities. The reputation of the university in question hadnt been a huge worry. As far as the police were concerned, a crime was a crime and it would be solved with no more or no less vigour than an offence occurring anywhere else on their patch. Seeing Jones lack of comprehension, Grayson leant back in his chair, assuming a professorial air.
Look around you, Warren. Middlesbury is a small market town, with bugger-all local industry. The decision to turn the technical college into a university forty-odd years ago gave this place a lease of life. Its the biggest employer in the area and the students bring millions into the local economy. Part of the attraction for students is the location. Were seen as a safe, quiet place to live and study. We have none of the hustle and bustle of Cambridge or the crime of some of the Essex cities. Its a huge draw for overseas students, who bring in massive amounts of foreign money even if some of our more conservatively minded residents arent too fond of them.