woman added. ‘It’s just those bastards
downstairs have been calling me Joy Bag Jane ever since I found those johnnies in the flower pot the
other day.’
Jessica tried not to laugh but as the rest of the room burst into giggles, she couldn’t stop herself.
‘Sorry,’ she smiled. ‘I’m not laughing at you, more with you.’
‘It’s not funny.’
More giggles. ‘No, it’s not.’ Jessica just about composed herself to get the rest of the sentence out.
‘As I was saying, we’ve got to search the external bins around Trafford Park in case our guy ditched
the clothes and the bat on the way out. We’ve got some uniforms helping, plus DS Cornish—’
More groans. ‘DS Grumpy Bitch,’ an unidentified voice piped up at the back.
‘Christ, what is it with you miserable bastards today? You don’t want to sort through other people’s
rubbish, you don’t like finding piles of used condoms. What do you want to do? Look, someone needs
to make sure you lot know how to pick through a bin properly and then fill in the forms at the end of it and it’s not going to be me, so Louise has been drafted over. Half of you are going over there, so make
sure you take a bloody coat – if someone gets frostbite and loses a finger, you can fill in your own
health and safety forms.’
Jessica picked up her mug and looked at the dregs in the bottom as if to prove the point that
someone had a job to be doing.
‘Right, the other half of you are what we call “lucky” – you’re here trying to find a connection from
Luke Callaghan to Alan Hume. Assuming our hoody friend is the same person, why has he gone after
these two? We all know Callaghan’s a piece of work, so let’s get digging on Hume. He’s a builder so
he’s obviously got a long stream of annoyed customers behind him wondering why he rolls up at ten
and sods off at two after having an hour for lunch and drinking cups of tea all morning. There’s got to
be more to it than that though. Go back and look at Callaghan’s wife, the councillor and Michael
Cowell too – are they connected to Hume in any way? I want a motive and a link by this afternoon. I
also want a packet of chocolate biscuits in here within the hour but whatever you do, don’t let Pat
catch you bringing them up – he’s borderline diabetic as it is.’ Jessica paused for breath. ‘Right, any
questions?’
The only noise was people blowing into their hands as the department collectively tried not to turn
into human icicles.
‘Right, Louise is on her way up – she’ll sort out the lucky ones on bin duty. Iz, you’re with me.’
DCI Cole’s office was barely warmer than the incident room and he was wearing a hat and scarf
when he waved Jessica and Izzy in. ‘I’ve got some good news for you,’ he said, wearing a look that
didn’t have the word ‘good’ in it. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, dark bags offset against his
pale skin.
Jessica wondered why he had his hands under the desk and then it dawned on her: ‘Have you got a
heater back there?’ His eyes shot downwards and then up again, giving her the answer. ‘All right, shift
up, I’m coming round,’ she added.
Without giving him an option Jessica walked around to the other side of the desk and sat on the
floor, holding her hands out for the small oil radiator to offer its heavenly glow. Cole shuffled his
chair backwards, poking his sock-covered feet out towards the heater, his shoes tucked neatly under
the cabinet behind him.
‘No wonder you’ve been holed up in here all week,’ Jessica added. ‘You’ve got your own little
snug on the go.’
‘It was cluttering up the garage – we never used it because it eats too much power but I sneaked it
in the other morning.’
‘I’m surprised Pat didn’t confiscate it for health and safety.’
‘Aah, I had a simultaneous steak and kidney pie discovery which may have distracted him.’
It was the first time Jessica could
downstairs have been calling me Joy Bag Jane ever since I found those johnnies in the flower pot the
other day.’
Jessica tried not to laugh but as the rest of the room burst into giggles, she couldn’t stop herself.
‘Sorry,’ she smiled. ‘I’m not laughing at you, more with you.’
‘It’s not funny.’
More giggles. ‘No, it’s not.’ Jessica just about composed herself to get the rest of the sentence out.
‘As I was saying, we’ve got to search the external bins around Trafford Park in case our guy ditched
the clothes and the bat on the way out. We’ve got some uniforms helping, plus DS Cornish—’
More groans. ‘DS Grumpy Bitch,’ an unidentified voice piped up at the back.
‘Christ, what is it with you miserable bastards today? You don’t want to sort through other people’s
rubbish, you don’t like finding piles of used condoms. What do you want to do? Look, someone needs
to make sure you lot know how to pick through a bin properly and then fill in the forms at the end of it and it’s not going to be me, so Louise has been drafted over. Half of you are going over there, so make
sure you take a bloody coat – if someone gets frostbite and loses a finger, you can fill in your own
health and safety forms.’
Jessica picked up her mug and looked at the dregs in the bottom as if to prove the point that
someone had a job to be doing.
‘Right, the other half of you are what we call “lucky” – you’re here trying to find a connection from
Luke Callaghan to Alan Hume. Assuming our hoody friend is the same person, why has he gone after
these two? We all know Callaghan’s a piece of work, so let’s get digging on Hume. He’s a builder so
he’s obviously got a long stream of annoyed customers behind him wondering why he rolls up at ten
and sods off at two after having an hour for lunch and drinking cups of tea all morning. There’s got to
be more to it than that though. Go back and look at Callaghan’s wife, the councillor and Michael
Cowell too – are they connected to Hume in any way? I want a motive and a link by this afternoon. I
also want a packet of chocolate biscuits in here within the hour but whatever you do, don’t let Pat
catch you bringing them up – he’s borderline diabetic as it is.’ Jessica paused for breath. ‘Right, any
questions?’
The only noise was people blowing into their hands as the department collectively tried not to turn
into human icicles.
‘Right, Louise is on her way up – she’ll sort out the lucky ones on bin duty. Iz, you’re with me.’
DCI Cole’s office was barely warmer than the incident room and he was wearing a hat and scarf
when he waved Jessica and Izzy in. ‘I’ve got some good news for you,’ he said, wearing a look that
didn’t have the word ‘good’ in it. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, dark bags offset against his
pale skin.
Jessica wondered why he had his hands under the desk and then it dawned on her: ‘Have you got a
heater back there?’ His eyes shot downwards and then up again, giving her the answer. ‘All right, shift
up, I’m coming round,’ she added.
Without giving him an option Jessica walked around to the other side of the desk and sat on the
floor, holding her hands out for the small oil radiator to offer its heavenly glow. Cole shuffled his
chair backwards, poking his sock-covered feet out towards the heater, his shoes tucked neatly under
the cabinet behind him.
‘No wonder you’ve been holed up in here all week,’ Jessica added. ‘You’ve got your own little
snug on the go.’
‘It was cluttering up the garage – we never used it because it eats too much power but I sneaked it
in the other morning.’
‘I’m surprised Pat didn’t confiscate it for health and safety.’
‘Aah, I had a simultaneous steak and kidney pie discovery which may have distracted him.’
It was the first time Jessica could
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