Detective work was often a hard slog – that was a given – but it was always fascinating and exciting, every shift different from the one before and the one after. You could never describe it as mundane. Predictability didn’t come into it. Where violence was concerned, trying to second-guess the cruelty of one human to another was an impossible task. And just when you thought you’d seen it all, along came a new low to change your mind.
The MIT arrived in dribs and drabs, Jo included, everyone delayed by traffic chaos, some unable to get in from outlying areas, leaving the team depleted. A foot of snow had fallen overnight. It was still coming down and the gritters were struggling. Kate was glad she hadn’t gone home. Hank was less happy when he found out, telling her she looked like death.
Ignoring the comment, she handed him a copy of Helen’s note. ‘Read, digest and distribute to the team with the same instruction.’ It was essential that everyone read and interpreted the note themselves, not hear it second-hand from her. ‘Make sure Jo gets a copy first. You have fifteen minutes.’
He took the copies and left.
Kate spent that time in her office, briefing Bright, her guv’nor. He was an exacting boss but one she respected and admired, a man who liked to keep his finger on the pulse of the Murder Investigation Team. The first few hours of any enquiry were as frantic as they were crucial.
Once assembled, Kate called the MIT to order, asking everyone to pay attention. She had to find a way to motivate her team. To do that, it was important to set the right tone, leaving no ambiguity about the type of murder or offenders they were up against. ‘I assume you’ve all seen the briefing sheet and read the note found at the scene?’
Heads were nodding, the odd ‘Yes, guv’ reaching her.
‘Then let’s get started. I want to make this absolutely clear: we’re not dealing with someone losing their shit in the heat of the moment. There was more than one set of fresh tyre tracks at the crime scene but no vehicles. Best guess, we’re looking for two offenders who arrived in the same car and took a chunk out of Shepherd’s gate on the way out. They didn’t have to search for Helen. Her car was a giveaway, the only one on site. They were in and out. Job done, they ransacked the place and left in a hurry, taking Helen’s car with them.’
Kate paused.
Even though she’d yet to confirm ID, she’d adopted the name Helen, personalising her at the earliest opportunity, knowing that it would spur her colleagues into action. Describing the victim as the injured party, the unident, the deceased were all too abstract. She wanted them to get a sense of the person she was, not the bloody remains she’d become.
‘At this point in time we have no surname,’ she continued. ‘But there was nothing random or opportunistic about this one. There was an element of torture before her throat was cut, so we’re not looking for some arsehole who happened to be passing the caravan, looked in through the window and thought he’d have some fun. Neither is it a robbery gone wrong. Helen’s expensive watch and jewellery weren’t taken. The attack was brutal, deliberate, planned and well executed, like a military operation.’
‘And to some extent preordained, by the sounds of it.’ It was Jo who’d spoken.
For a split second, their eyes met, a non-verbal message of solidarity passing between them. There hadn’t been a moment to talk before the briefing began. Jo’s insights into the criminal minds of dangerous offenders were as fascinating as they were crucial in finding those who kill. Kate was dying to get her take on the note.
‘Yes, that too,’ she said. ‘What triggered her abuser to go over the top and kill this time is less clear. If any of you come up with a theory in the course of the investigation, I want to hear it, no matter how far-fetched it may seem. We’re going after these men, no holds barred.’
‘Too right,’ Hank said.
‘Please, all of you, heed Helen’s warning. The man we’re hunting is ruthless. Take him seriously and stay alert or you could end up as his next target. We all know it can happen.’
She had no need to elaborate. A few years ago, a colleague had fallen in the line of duty. Detective Sergeant Paul Robson had been murdered by an Organised Crime Group while acting up in Kate’s absence, a warning to the police to back off.
They didn’t do it then.
They wouldn’t now.