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Vicky approached the Custody Suite. She stood at the gated doors at the bottom of the stairs that led from the first floor landing, and pressed the bell. There was a loud buzzing noise and the gates opened as if of their own free will, and closed behind her with a clang. The Custody Sergeant sat in a hunched position facing her from where he sat at his computer terminal behind the desk. He had a wrinkled brow and questioning eyes and when he spoke his breath smelt of his last cigarette, there was yellow staining on his teeth, her stomach turned.
‘Vicky,’ the over gregarious police officer said, with the beer belly she knew was hidden below the counter. He pursed his lips. ‘Toft, he’s a hell of a lucky guy. Just blown another test supervised by the duty Inspector and he’s below the level.’
Vicky’s eyes lit up. ‘So, he’s clear?’
‘He’s clear and relatively unscathed. Hadn’t had a drink since last night he says whilst celebrating his birthday with a nice meal and a couple of bottles of red with his wife.’
Vicky blew out a long slow breath. ‘It must have been a good wine.’
Footsteps could be heard approaching from the corridor beyond the wall partition. Detective Sergeant Toft appeared, his face pale, the top button of his shirt undone. He was tieless. Not surprisingly, not only had he been in a road traffic accident but also his job, livelihood and pension had been on the line.
Vicky held her arm out and put it around Toft’s shoulders. ‘Come on mate, let’s go and grab a coffee you look as though you need it.’
He shook his head disbelievingly, ‘What a bloody nightmare.’
‘Take the positive from it. It’s over, and you’ve survived.’
He rubbed his side. ‘Barely! Tell you what, the side airbag activated and it nearly gave me a heart attack.’
The coffee was hot, strong and sweet. Toft pulled a face when he tasted it, and Vicky encouraged him to drink. ‘I don’t know how in god’s name the road side test showed positive.’ His eyebrows knitted together. ‘I knew, no way was I over the limit but I wasn’t going to argue with Traffic especially when it was Leech.’
‘Leech?’ Vicky’s voice rose. ‘Geez, you were lucky. He’s already got two detectives scalps under his belt this year, to my knowledge. Maybe he was looking for a hat-trick? What a twat!’
‘I honestly had no idea what I drank last night would even register.’
‘Put it behind you – you’ve done nothing wrong. The guy that ran into you is in high water mind. I’m told he was three times over.’
While Vicky went to report back to Dylan, Toft took himself off to the rest room. He stood at the sink and checked his face out in the mirror above. Without averting his eyes he turned on the tap, and with trembling hands he let cold water run over the inside of his wrists. When the sink was full he dipped his head and threw cold water up into his face. Running his fingers over the swollen, freshly bruised cheekbone he continued to dab his face dry with a paper towel. His pale lips were slightly open. ‘For goodness sake pull yourself together man,’ he said, as his body shook, his stomach churned and all went black.
***
‘Second breath test at the station which we know is more accurate was done under the watchful eye of the duty Inspector,’ Vicky told Dylan. ‘He was under. No further action will be taken. It was Leech, he’s a fucking twat.’
Dylan’s face was serious. ‘He might be a twat but, Leech doesn’t force people to drink and drive. He’s only doing is job.’
‘You know, I know, everyone else knows he revels in bagging a detective just as much as a footballer would enjoy scoring the winning goal at Wembley. The little short-arse pillock thinks people are frightened of him.’
‘Is that it?’ Dylan said, raising his eyebrows. ‘I’ll come and have a word with him in a minute.’ Dylan looked through the glass in his office door and out into the incident room. He frowned. ‘Where did he go?’
Andy could be seen running towards the desk. He picked up the phone. His demeanour made Dylan stand and make his way into the office with Vicky close behind him.
‘Ambulance please,’ he heard Andy say. ‘Harrowfield Police Station. Man collapsed in the station after an RTA earlier today.’
***
‘Twenty-eight days from finding the house to completing – would you believe it?’ Jen waved the letter from the solicitor in front of Dylan.
‘We’ve got our date then?’
Jen’s excitement was infectious and Dylan lifted her up into his arms. He twirled her around the kitchen, much to Maisy’s amusement.
His face turned from happy to worried. ‘To be hoped the builders can do the remedial work before we move in.’
Jen looked smug. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got it in hand.’
Dylan pulled the knot of his tie, opened the top button of his shirt and sat down on the nearest chair. Maisy jumped straight on his lap. ‘Well, what can I say Maisy Moo,’ he said bouncing her up and down. ‘It looks like we’re moving!’ The little girl giggled, spontaneously dropping a kiss on his cheek.
***
Dylan woke at 5 am the next morning. The house was quiet. Jen lay beside him, softly snoring. Instead of putting on his suit which was waiting for him to step into, he reached for his jeans and jumper and carried his thick socks and his boots down stairs,. He picked up Max’s collar and lead and ushered a bewildered, but willing Retriever out of the door. The wind was so cold it nipped at his face and he pulled the sleeves of his coat over his hands and zipped his collar up to his chin. He opened the car door and Max instantly, jumped in.
The walk around the playing fields allowed him to pass the scene of the crime. He slowed down – but only slightly, willing himself to look long enough, hard enough to find a clue he needed in the surrounding houses. Patti’s house itself, its garden or its driveway where the family’s car was parked once more. There was nothing untoward.
‘Toft’s got a neck brace and it looks like he might be off for a while.’ Not the news Dylan wanted to hear when he walked in the station. ‘I’ve let PC Leech know that if he didn’t record the incident yesterday as an injury accident, it should be. As he passed his chair Dylan gave Andy a nudge. ‘My office now.’
Vicky raised her eyebrows at Andy as they followed Dylan in. He turned on the lights.
‘So we’re a car and a man down. It could have been a hell of a lot worse.’ Dylan offered them a seat with a wave of his hand.
‘I want you to remind all officers at the briefings today that no one is above the law, and drinking at night could mean there is still alcohol in the bloodstream the next day.’
Vicky nodded.
‘Andy,’ he said, as he took his seat behind his desk and pushed the button to fire up his computer. ‘Am I right in thinking you’ve got your sergeants exam?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘I’ll okay it with personnel but as from now, you’re acting-up mate.’
‘Acting Sergeant Andy Wormald – I like the sound of that,’ said Vicky patting the surprised detective on the back. Shoulders back Andy strode out of Dylan’s office a foot taller. Dylan knew that feeling well. The feeling when hard work had been recognised and a boss had faith in you. He had no doubt Andy was ‘a safe pair of hands’ and would do him proud.
Dylan looked across at the paperwork in his overflowing in-tray. Hand atop the stack, and below he carried it the short distance to his desk. One hand lay on the middle of the three piles he had achieved a few minutes later. The paperwork now in order of priority – at the top the enquiry’s budget update from HQ. He held a pen as a thinking prop and looked up and through the pane of glass in his office door at the busy incident room beyond, his thoughts fighting for supremacy. The clock above the door ticked away the minutes to the morning briefing. As he looked down the eyes of young Patti Heinz stared back at him, her picture tucked in the corner of his blotter – as if he needed a reminder how anyone could put a price tag on finding her killer. But that was the reality of it, he sighed.
The smell of toasted bread snuck into his office before he saw Emily carrying the plate. Each team member bringing their drinks to the table. He got up to join them.
‘Batches, a dozen at a time of male pupils DNA swabs are being sent to Forensic for analysis,’ said Nev. The enthusiasm to catch the killer of Patti Heinz carried Dylan on a wave of positivity. ‘What more could be done?’ he asked himself as he looked at each officer, with his own enquiry agenda.
The faces of those in the briefing upturned to the knocking at the door and Dave Craze from the front office entered.
‘Sorry to interrupt sir but I’ve got a Malcolm Roberts at the front counter, apparently his neighbour told him we’ve been looking for him?’
***
The noticeable things about Malcolm Roberts were his height, his receding coloured hair and his half-moon spectacles. He dressed in a racing green pullover over an off-white open-necked shirt and baggy at the knee, corduroy trousers. He was clean-shaven and looked a tad older than his thirty years.
Detective Sergeant Hardacre introduced herself and DC Donna Frost to him, in an interview room, near to the front counter of Harrowfield Police Station. Door closed, all seated, Vicky proceeded to explain to him about the investigation into Patti’s murder.
Roberts spoke slowly, ‘I’m at a loss as to why you and your colleague should wish to speak to me? My neighbour informed me that you were banging on my door with such force that it caused her to go outside to see what was going on.’
Vicky had a knack of avoiding a question as much as she was good at closed questions to avoid yes/no answers. Donna let her continue.
‘Did you know Patti Heinz?’ Without any hesitation she held up a photograph of the young girl for Roberts to see.
Roberts showed his bottom lip. ‘Mmm...’ His face held a frown. ‘She looks familiar.’
‘A regular at the baths where you swim.’ The detectives watched his face intently as he appeared to calculate Vicky’s words.
‘She was?’ Roberts pulled away, his body stiffened and he crossed his arms.
Vicky’s interest was evident as she leant across the desk. ‘So do you, or do you not recognise her?’ she pressed on; holding the picture still, at eye level.
Roberts shrugged his shoulders. ‘I can’t be sure. I see a lot of people at the baths. They look totally different when their hair is wet and they’re dressed in swimming attire.’
‘Well, luckily we have gained a DNA profile of her killer which means we can eliminate people very quickly from this enquiry and hence why we are speaking to, and taking a sample from, any male she might know or have come into contact with.’
Roberts lifted his chin. ‘Ah, so because I’m a male and go to the local swimming baths where she frequented, you need to take a swab from inside my mouth. Is that what you’re saying?’
Vicky nodded. ‘Yes, that’s about it, in a nutshell.’
‘And what would be done with the aforesaid sample after it’s been checked against the DNA profile?’
‘It will be destroyed. Unless you consent for it to go onto the national database,’ said Donna.
‘I am of the opinion that I’d like mine to be destroyed after it has been checked. And, I would like you to inform me when that has been done. Now, shall we proceed?’
As Donna stepped forward with the swab in hand, Mr Roberts flinched. He shook his head in small jerky movements showing her the raised palm of his hand. ‘Bear with me,’ he said. ‘I hate people invading my space.’ At the second attempt the sample was taken. ‘Can I ask you Mr Roberts,’ said Vicky, as Donna removed the swab from his mouth and proceeded to do the paperwork. ‘I understand that you were advised by the management at the swimming baths as to inappropriate behaviour towards others, is that right?’
‘Yes, it is. I told some children off for misbehaving in the showers. They were running around whipping each other with wet towels. The next thing I know they were making scurrilous allegations of indecency, laughing and calling me names. And that is why I don't frequent the swimming baths these days.’
‘Did you explain to management?’
He looked decidedly sad. ‘Of course I did. But they said they had a duty of care, therefore had to advise me.’ When he continued his voice rose. ‘Advise me?’ I daren’t even speak to a child these days, even if they’re crying, or hurt.’ His head tilted, this way and that. ‘Everyone is suspicious; and of course it doesn’t help that I’m a childless, single man that chooses to live alone... Sadly that means I’m considered, by some, to be a threat to children.’
‘I think parents are protective because they are more aware, due to the media, of what could happen. Patti was a child, she and her parents should have been able to assume she was safe in her home though, and we will do everything in our power to catch her murderer.’
‘Absolutely.’ Roberts looked at his watch. ‘I’m sorry, are we going to be much longer? I am due at work in ten minutes.’
The DNA sample paperwork signed, and protective tube sealed Donna initialled her exhibit and sealed the bag.
‘We’re just about finished here,’ said Vicky as she stood. ‘As a matter of interest what is it you do Mr Roberts?’
‘I work at the Central Library. I’m busy cataloguing archived material at the moment. It’s very interesting work, albeit a little lonely at times.’
‘Well Donna, what do you think of him?’ said Vicky as she closed the door after him and followed the detective down the corridor that led back to the incident room.
‘He should get out more.’ She turned and held the exhibit aloft. ‘Do you think it’s going to come back positive?’
Vicky screwed up her nose. ‘Nah.’
***
The briefing had concluded and Dylan was back in his office a mug of coffee in his hand when they returned. ‘There is still some obvious suspects in the enquiry to speak to and eliminate,’ he said. ‘Patti’s friend Gail Carpenter’s older brother still has to be seen, and the leaflet droppers before we widen the search.’
‘Mark Carpenter, he’s next on my list,’ said Donna.
‘Good. How did it go with Roberts?’
‘He’s a bit odd – a stereotypical indecency man if ever I saw one,’ she giggled. ‘But, having spoken to him I don’t think it’s him,’ said Vicky.
‘He didn’t hesitate to give us a sample. Lives on his own and works on his own at the library. I think he’s just lonely,’ said Donna.
‘Central Library,’ said Dylan.
The detectives nodded.
‘Central library is temporarily situated in the council building next to the school - Patti’s school.’
