Stacey rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the tension away.
Why the hell had she not just come clean about Justin Reynolds when she’d had the chance? She had been so surprised by Dawson’s reference to the scar she had blurted out his name in case Dawson had made the connection himself and then asked her why she’d never realised.
This situation was becoming far too complicated to continue.
She understood that her colleagues were investigating hate crimes, and Justin Reynolds had obviously been racist ? but there were thousands of kids like Justin Reynolds floating around social media. He would not have any connection to their case. And the reference to the scar was nothing more than coincidence. It had nothing to do with Justin. It couldn’t have.
But she was now more convinced than ever that she had to let the Justin Reynolds thing go. After posting a particularly offensive message over breakfast from her dummy account, the gravity of what she’d done had almost brought the Weetabix to the back of her throat.
Her instinct had been wrong, born of being not busy enough. Her senses had been given the opportunity to run riot on their own. And that had resulted in disastrous consequences. She had learned nothing.
And she’d managed to lose property that didn’t belong to her in the process. Good job, Stace, she silently congratulated herself.
She had already decided that she would come clean with the boss once she was back with them. She would just be honest, explain what she had done, her reasons why and then take the consequences.
With the decision made, and a plan of action formed she pushed aside her mobile phone and focussed on the four names on her notepad.
HENRYK KOWALSKI
BRANDON BUBBA JONES
AISHA GUPTA
SHAY CHAKMA
Time to do what she always did: work methodically and pragmatically. She would start with the first victim and work her way through.
She entered a search for Henryk Kowalski into Google as her phone vibrated on the desk.
Damn it, she observed, she was still logged into her dummy account after that last article she’d posted over breakfast.
She swiped and clicked on the notification.
Floda had sent her a friend request.
SIXTY-SEVEN
Kim slid into the briefing and sat at the back of the room. Despite the drive, she did not yet trust herself to speak to Travis.
He stood at the top of the room, his jacket draped over a spare chair. He was pacing back and forth in front of the wipe boards.
Five bodies were leaning forward, waiting, engaged.
‘So, we desperately need a reason to keep Jeff Cowley in custody. He knows more about this than he’s letting on.’
‘Should we question him again, guv?’ Johnson asked.
Kim was thinking yes as Travis nodded. An overnight stay in custody may have loosened his tongue.
‘It’s worth a shot to see if he’ll crack. Ask him about his daughter. That seems a particularly sensitive point for him.’
Johnson nodded and made a note.
‘Gibbs, track down Fiona Cowley. Find out where she is and let us know. I think we need to speak to her again. She’s covering for someone in her family, and we need to know who.’
‘Okay, guv,’ he answered.
‘Gibbs, I want you to work with Lewis on trying to identify the second male at the morgue I’ve just given you the details of.’
Kim had texted the basic vital information she’d gleaned from Doctor A regarding their second male victim to Travis as soon as she’d left the morgue the previous night. As usual he had not replied, and this was the first confirmation she’d had that the information had been received.
Travis’s glance in her direction drew the attention of the team to her presence.
She nodded in response.
‘Lynda, can you phone the hospital and see if Billy Cowley has rediscovered his voice yet,’ he said. ‘And I want you working with Johnson on trying to identify a blue transit van in the area of our road traffic incident. The victim claims two males tried to abduct him.’
Lynda frowned. ‘Boss, Mrs Umgabe, the lady you sent me to see the other day, said the exact same thing. No closer with tracing the van, though.’
‘Stay on it, Lynda. That’s two attempts in one week. Whatever they’re doing, they’re gonna get lucky soon. And put it out again to the uniforms, refresh their memories. We can forget the delivery van driver, traffic officers have ruled out speeding so it appears he’s off the hook but I want the witnesses interviewed again to find out exactly how that poor woman ended up in front of the van. This incident escalated from a road accident to potential kidnapping and manslaughter.’
Lynda turned away and started scribbling notes.
He nodded towards Penn. ‘And, I think the detective inspector has a present for you.’
Kim stood and took the photocopy from her pocket.
He looked at it and then at the board. ‘Part of that note?’
Kim nodded. ‘I think so. It’s faded and dirty but you might be able to figure something more from it.’
He rubbed his hands feverishly. ‘Cool, thanks.’
‘And Wilma goes to Lynda today,’ Travis said, moving the plant across the room.
‘Thanks, boss,’ she said, placing it next to a photo of a Great Dane puppy.
Bodies began to lift and move as the energy and purpose took hold.
‘Ready?’ Travis said from beside her.
She nodded and followed him out of the door.
‘Well, thank you for allowing me to conduct my own briefing today,’ he said, smartly.
Kim didn’t respond. Oh yes, she’d allowed him to speak all right.
She was only waiting until they reached the car.
And then it was her turn.
SIXTY-EIGHT
Bryant acknowledged that Lloyd House, located on Colmore Circus at Queensway, had to be one of the ugliest buildings he had ever seen.
West Midlands Police headquarters lived in a plain, rectangle box with eleven rows of identical windows and concrete reaching up into the sky.
The revolving doors guided them into an airy space of light wood, glass and a circular reception desk that reminded Bryant of a health club.
As Dawson introduced them, Bryant pictured the first impression of Halesowen Police Station. Poor old Jack, the Custody Sergeant, stared at his own reflection in reinforced glass for his whole shift. But of course this wasn’t a police station. This was HQ.
They took the journey through the metal detectors and headed for the second floor.
At the top of the steps was a sign. They followed the arrow towards intelligence, and almost missed a door on the right bearing the nameplate of the man they sought.