‘I thought I’d say a few words before we start.’
Ridpath and Emily Parkinson had walked in two minutes earlier, surprised to see the incident room full of detectives, many called in from their weekend off to attend the briefing at one p.m. Dave Connor and Oliver Davis were off to one side, sitting next to their boss, Chief Inspector Holloway.
DCI Turnbull was standing at the front of the room, brushing away a non-existent hair from the shoulder of his jacket.
‘I’ve been asked to get involved with this investigation as it seems to have spiralled out of control.’
Dave Connor was about to speak, but Turnbull silenced him by raising his hand.
‘Now, I’m not blaming any of you, nor am I blaming the detectives from Stretford.’ A quick nod to Holloway, who was sitting at the back of the room. ‘They have performed in an exemplary manner throughout this investigation. However, it has now been decided this case requires the involvement of more senior minds.’ Once again, the hand stroked the shoulder. ‘It is now apparent to me there are strong links between the hands discovered in the backpack in Daisy House Children’s Home, the disappearance of a number of people and last week’s disappearance of a social worker in Manchester.’
‘You only know because of our work,’ said Emily under her breath.
‘What was that, DS Parkinson? If you have anything to say to this meeting, please make sure we all hear it?’
‘Nothing, sir, clearing my throat.’
He carried on speaking. ‘This morning’s newspaper report has created a – I think the technical term is shitstorm – amongst the top brass. They have realised there may have been a serial killer hiding in plain sight for at least the last eleven years. Now, I read the case files this morning.’
Emily leant into Ridpath, whispering, ‘He can’t have read them all so quickly.’
‘It seems to me there is a direct link between Daisy House Children’s Home and these disappearances. Alan, get on to Manchester Children’s Services, I want a complete list of everybody who went to Daisy House or who worked there since 1980.’
Ridpath put his hand up. ‘You’ll need a warrant, sir. I don’t think Manchester Social Services will give the list to us without one, data protection laws. Chrissy did get a list of people who worked there from Operation Pharaoh.’
Turnbull ignored him. ‘Alan, if you have a problem, get the director to call me, I’ve met him socially. I’m sure we can sort it out.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now, Ridpath and Parkinson, you went to Strangeways this morning. Anything from Jones?’
‘Not a lot, but—’
‘I could have told you, Ridpath,’ Turnbull interrupted, ‘a bit of a wild goose chase if you ask me.’
‘I think he knows more than he’s telling us, sir,’ said Emily Parkinson.
‘Possibly, DS Parkinson, but we have far too many other leads to follow without us obsessing about one man. DC Davis, anything from ANPR on Patricia Patterson’s car?’
‘Nothing so far, sir. We had one sighting on the M60 exiting on junction ten. We’re checking footage from cameras in Urmston as we speak. There aren’t many cameras in that neck of the woods.’
‘And her phone, Chrissy?’
‘Last call was at her home early in the morning. Then we lose the signal, also near junction ten in Urmston. The phone may have been switched off.’
‘Right, are we sure she hasn’t done a runner? Had enough of her relationship and taken off?’
‘She left without any clothes, passport still at home and her partner says they had a great, loving relationship,’ said Emily.
‘Well, she would, wouldn’t she?’ Before Emily could respond, Turnbull had turned towards Oliver Davis. ‘Right, lad, write these on the board. I’ve heard you have the best handwriting around here. At least you can do joined-up words, not like most of this lot.’
Oliver Davis jumped up.
‘Four priorities. One: checking Daisy House Children’s Home. Alan, you’re in charge, the rest of the MIT team can assist. There’s going to be a lot of names to go through. Be prepared for long nights. Have any other people gone missing from the home? Two: check HOLMES. Chrissy, you’re on this. I want to know if there have been any other crimes like this anywhere in the UK.’
‘I already did it, gaffer. HOLMES didn’t come up with anything.’
‘Check again. There must have been something we missed.’
Chrissy sighed. ‘Will do, boss.’
‘Three: searching the area around Daisy House. We must have missed something. I want the place gone through with a fine-tooth comb. Tony, you’re leading. Emily, you can help. Finally, what happened to the bodies? Why haven’t they been found? Dave, I want you to lead this.’
‘But I—’
‘Check all sources, Dave, leave no stone unturned.’
‘Yes, gaffer.’
‘That’s all. This investigation has been given priority one by the acting chief constable, so we have to get a result. Understood?’
A mumbled chorus of ‘Yes, boss,’ from the detectives.
‘What about me?’
‘You, Ridpath? I thought you worked for the coroner. Don’t you have an inquest tomorrow?’
‘On Jane Ryder, one of our victims in this case. She’s also linked to the case.’
‘How do you know?’
‘The backpack. She was seen carrying it in a photo taken in 2009. It’s the same one that contained the hands.’
‘That’s it? That’s your link?’
‘And the connection to Daisy House. She was one of the residents, and the backpack was found there.’
Turnbull shook his head. ‘Listen, people, let’s not get sidetracked by young girls who disappeared in 2009. We have one focus and one focus only in this investigation: the hands in the backpack discovered last Tuesday morning. Everything else is a waste of time.’
‘What about Patricia Patterson?’
Turnbull bit his bottom lip. ‘Her disappearance may or may not be linked to the other people vanishing and the mystery of the hands. But we’re not sure yet. Alan, you keep looking for her, but make sure she hasn’t just done a runner from her relationship.’
‘Right, boss,’ said Alan Butcher loudly.
‘You still haven’t told me what you want me to do.’
The other detectives stopped what they were doing and raised their heads to stare at this challenge to Turnbull’s authority.
‘I thought I made it clear, Ridpath. I want you to do your job with the coroner. You have an inquest tomorrow, concentrate on it. I will be there to represent the police.’
‘What?’
‘You heard. I will be there. We need to get to work.’ He looked all around him, forcing the other detectives to look away, finally stopping at Ridpath. ‘Do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir,’ chorused the detectives.