Slice by David Hodges Read Free Book Online Page A

class.’
    Her face was ashen now. ‘Anything else we can help you with, Detective Superintendent ?’ she breathed.
    He nodded, unabashed. ‘Yeah, there is as a matter of fact. One of your area cars was seen in Merchant Street at around 00.45 hours. I need to find out who it was and whether your personnel saw anyone there on foot. OK? That’s if you can tear yourself away from your GCSE studies!’
     
    ‘We have a problem, Jack,’ DCI Gilham said, closing the door carefully behind him.
    Fulton looked up from the pile of newspapers on the desk in his temporary office. He looked haggard. His hair was dishevelled, his coat lay over the back of his chair and one of his red braces was hanging over his arm. ‘What, apart from the press?’ he snapped, pushing himself away from his desk. ‘I gather they’re all over the crime scene as well as camped outside this place. I’ve had to get more troops down to the rec.’
    ‘Best way of dealing with them is a press conference, Jack – give ’em something to keep the hyenas happy. I’ll set one up tomorrow morning, if you like. Might cool things down a bit.’
    Fulton shook his head, a stubborn set to his jaw. ‘Not a chance – not yet, anyway. HQ press office have given them a prepared statement and they’ll have to be satisfied with that for now.’
    He peered curiously at the manila folder the DCI was carrying. ‘So what’s this other problem then?’
    Gilham carefully laid a portfolio of photographs on the desk and bent the file cover back to reveal one of the prints. It showed a pair of wrists photographed at close quarters. Even before Gilham said anything, he noted the groove-like indentations in the skin.
    ‘Handcuffs, we believe,’ Gilham continued. ‘SOCO did a magnificent job getting these to us so soon, but Eddie Hutch thought you ought to see them straight away.’
    ‘I bet he did. He needs to do something right after the cock-up his lot made of getting to the scene.’
    Fulton glanced at his watch. Seven o’clock. He’d forgotten all about the time. The incident-room briefing had taken up at least an hour and a half and produced little but speculation from his team. Nothing found in the recreation ground, apart from a half a dozen car keys and double that number of used condoms in the undergrowth of the copse, and so far there were no witnesses from the ongoing house-to-house enquiries. It was like walking in treacle.
    ‘Handcuffs,’ he said eventually. ‘So, what are you saying?’
    Gilham raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Come on, Jack, you know what I’m saying.’
    ‘You can pick up handcuffs in any military surplus shop.’
    ‘True, but they’re mainly the old hand-bolts we used to use and they wouldn’t have left those marks. Only the new ratchet cuffs applied very tightly would fit the bill – and why remove them and tie up the wrists with cord afterwards anyway?’
    ‘Maybe the killer wanted to keep the cuffs as a souvenir – only had one pair.’
    ‘Or maybe he didn’t want us to know he had used them, which suggests all sorts of possibilities.’
    ‘Like, maybe our man was a copper, eh?’
    ‘It’s possible and it would certainly explain why Lyall was prepared to let him into his place. Nothing like a police uniform to reassure an elderly security-conscious judge.’
    Fulton scowled and lit a cigarette. ‘Maybe,’ he agreed, ‘but I don’t want us jumping fences before we can smell the fox. And I don’t want this getting to the press. It’s the only thing we’ve got that they don’t seem to know about.’
    ‘So, what about the rest of our team?’
    Fulton agonized for a few moments, then took a long pull on his cigarette and exhaled with an asthmatic wheeze. ‘They don’t need to know yet. Warn Eddie Hutch to keep shtum.’
    ‘And when they find out later? They won’t be very happy that we’ve kept something back.’
    ‘Tough. I’m not into counselling and anyway, there are more important issues to worry