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Andy Walters looked through the incident log and saw that there had been another victim of a shooting last night. An apparent car-jacking. Three gunshot victims in one night were indeed unusual for Persford.
He ran the name Pete Davis through the system but it didn’t deliver any hits. He looked up as Dave Goodman came into the CID room.
‘Morning, Dave, have you seen the report about this car-jacking last night?’
‘Yes, sir sounds nasty. Are you OK, sir, you look a bit pale.’
‘Oh, just a headache, I’ve taken some pills,’ he replied, rubbing his hand over his closely cropped hair. The action was a familiar sign he felt self-conscious at his colleague’s enquiry as to his well-being. ‘So, phone the hospital and find out when he’s fit to be interviewed. Also keep an eye out for whether the car turns up anywhere, OK.’
‘Will, do sir. What about the incident in Foal Lane. Any news?’
‘Well, we’ll investigate Sean Bailey’s associates. See what forensics tell us and hopefully later today we’ll have an identity for the other victim.’
Andy Walter’s phone rang.
‘Persford CID.’ Andy listened as the caller spoke. He jotted down the details on his pad. His suspicions about a drug deal in Foal Lane were confirmed but now the incident had taken on a whole new dimension and it was very worrying.
**
Jennifer Williams had worked at Blandford’s as a legal secretary for many years and was always the first to arrive. Although she drove to work she wasn’t able to park on the forecourt of the offices as there were only enough spaces for the partners. She usually found a space in a residential street about a quarter of a mile away. This morning as she approached she noticed a car she didn’t recognise already parked on the hard standing in front of the offices.
‘What a cheek,’ she muttered to herself. Not only that, it was parked carelessly which would mean that there wouldn’t be enough room for all the partners to park. This had occasionally happened before but the police had informed her that they couldn’t intervene as it was on private property and not causing an obstruction.
She walked up behind the car and noted down the registration in her phone. The car looked to be in quite a good condition and only five years old so someone should come to collect it. Jennifer peered in through the passenger window and gasped. The seat, although dark grey appeared to have a large stain on it, it looked sticky, perhaps coke or a fizzy drink had been spilt. Then she looked at the window. The smear was definitely not coke, it was blood. There also looked to be a bloody mark on the block paving and she automatically stood back from the car, checking the soles of her own shoes.
Without hesitation, she dialled the emergency services on her phone. Hopefully, this time the police would take her seriously.
**
Savannah Beggs had been awake until the early hours, texting and talking to her friends on a group chat and hadn’t surfaced until 10 a.m. She’d made herself an instant coffee and took it through to the lounge, thankful that her mother had removed herself from the sofa. Doubtless, her brother Dylan wouldn’t stir until lunchtime after his late night. She’d heard his noisy return, thus, on rising this morning she had performed her familiar ritual, banging on his bedroom door and hurling a stream of abuse at him. He had replied in a similar fashion but had customarily turned over and gone back to sleep.
Now she had a couple of hours to kill before her friends Kaylee and Lorelle joined her. Both had managed to secure holiday jobs, working a few hours each day in local shops. Savannah hadn’t been interested and besides she was barred from most of the local convenience stores after being caught trying to steal their merchandise. There were now only a couple of weeks left of the summer holiday and she planned to enjoy herself, though it would be difficult on her tight budget. Before leaving this morning, she’d managed to swipe ten pounds from her mother’s bag in the lounge. Another year of pointless school would soon be upon her and the only subject she was looking forward to was her GCSE Art class which she actually felt she had a chance of passing.
It was sunny and warm, so she sat on a bench in a small park area near her home. The term park was somewhat an exaggeration for a green area where every flat surface, bench and building was liberally coated with graffiti but being outside was better than being in their depressing home. She opened her can of coke and packet of crisps and stretched out on the bench exposing her legs to the sun.
Savannah, fifteen next month, was of average height, slim but curvaceous and often received wolf-whistles as well as more explicit comments on the street. Her long mid-brown hair was pulled back into her usual high ponytail. On occasion, she fastened it up into a bun on top of her head or wound it around in a plait. She regarded herself as the most attractive of her group of friends and few would disagree, however, her attractiveness was tempered by her aggressive expression resulting from her loveless upbringing.
As she relaxed in the fresh air, she imagined herself on a sun-drenched beach far away from teachers, her mother and this town. Perhaps when she was eighteen she could go and work abroad in a bar in Spain. Making a fresh start was an attractive idea but required money and unless she could find some rich boyfriend to take her, Savannah knew the odds of this happening were not in her favour. She scanned the depressing vista and saw an unfamiliar group of young men, laughing and joking amongst themselves. One of them appeared to be making his way over towards her so she felt in her bag for her rape alarm. Feigning disinterest, she looked at her phone as a shadow fell across her. Would he stop and talk to her? She continued to check her messages as the mystery man spoke to her.
‘Hi, gorgeous? Mind if I join you?’
