As if by Magic by Kerry Wilkinson Page B

were slowly lengthening and growing into one another. She doubted the new job was going to give him much of a respite from the ageing process.
    Jessica rebalanced herself as she looked towards DI Reynolds. The pair of them were sitting in Cole’s office on the upstairs floor of Longsight’s police station. ‘You’re my witness – this is workplace bullying.’
    Reynolds laughed. ‘Actually, I think it’s the opposite. This is a valuable opportunity for one of our officers to go on television and explain why we need help. The person who gets to go front and centre is a representative of this force. You should feel privileged we all rate you so highly.’
    Jessica snorted in disbelief. ‘But you know full-well I’m going to cock-up in some way or another; I’ll swear or say the wrong name and you both know I don’t want to do it.’
    ‘Too late,’ Cole replied. ‘The Super’s already signed it off. You’re up tonight.’
    Since the autopsy and forensic examination had been completed, they had been left with little other than the CCTV footage to follow up. Gordon’s coat had a few hairs that didn’t belong to him on it but nothing that matched anything in the National DNA Database. Even though they had the murder weapon, there was little else to work with as there were no separate prints or DNA. One potential clue was that the knife was angled upwards, so he was possibly killed by someone shorter, stabbing up; as opposed to a taller person.
    The marks on his neck had been traced back to something called a Stun Master – a type of taser that was illegal in the UK. They were in the process of checking sales records from overseas weapons websites against anyone’s credit card statements who could have known Gordon but it was a shot in the dark as there were so many other ways of getting hold of one if you really wanted to. The obvious way, of course, was buying one overseas and not declaring it when you returned through customs – let alone if there was any professional involvement, where this type of weapon would be as easy to get hold of as a kitchen knife.
    The camera footage gave them a reasonable idea of how Gordon had spent the evening. He had started in a hotel bar just off Piccadilly and then moved to a dingier, dimly-lit singles place around a two or three-minute walk away from where his body was found.
    They had footage of him inside the first location, where it was pretty clear he was trying to chat up younger females. When he had no luck, he moved to the second bar but that was where the problem arose. Although there were cameras inside and over the top of the entrance, none of them worked. The owners claimed it was something they were in the process of fixing but, given the spot’s reputation, no-one was convinced. Rowlands, who seemed to know a disturbing amount about Manchester’s singles scene, said it was well-known as a place older, probably married, people went to meet each other. His insistence that he would “never be seen dead” there certainly didn’t convince Jessica.
    The bar staff vaguely recognised Gordon but couldn’t remember him specifically being with anyone, while tracing anyone else actually in the bar was also proving difficult. If Rowlands was correct, that was no surprise given that anyone who was married likely wouldn’t want their other half finding out where they were.
    With no-one else apparently holding a grudge and Helga’s alibi rock-solid, they were left with little option other than to try something different.
    ‘You won’t be on your own,’ Cole assured Jessica. ‘Rosie is going with you.’
    ‘The press officer woman?’
    ‘Yes, not ours, the one from Greater Manchester. She’s got the contact that enabled us to go on the news.’
    ‘You’ve set that up on purpose as well, haven’t you?’ Jessica asked with an annoyed shake of her head.
    Cole laughed. ‘It’s not all a conspiracy...’
    ‘But she is the most annoying person I have ever met –