need to find out what the victim’s family and friends made of Louise. Make sure she is who she says she is.’ Godley was frowning again. ‘See if you can get hold of the ex-boyfriend, but in the meantime, we need to think about how else we might prove who was here in case that’s a dead end.’
‘I’ll check with the porter to see if there’s any CCTV in the building,’ Sam volunteered. ‘Whoever was on duty last night might remember Rebecca leaving, too. She was the sort of girl you’d notice, wasn’t she?’
I thought of the park, the body lying at my feet in the charred grass. Someone had noticed her, all right, in her heels and her tightly fitted dress. Someone had noticed, and hated, and wanted to destroy her.
‘Good,’ Godley said, and Sam shot out without waiting for anything else. ‘Maeve, I want you to be the one who talks to Rebecca’s family, her colleagues and other friends as well as the ex-boyfriend – see if you can find out what was going on in her life. Don’t get started until we’ve got in touch with her next of kin to let them know what’s happened. I don’t want you getting ahead of us again.’
I tried not to look disappointed. On an investigation like this, background information on the victim wasn’t usually that important. It was busy work, something that needed to be done but that wasn’t remotely likely to find our killer. Plodding research with formulaic questions, file-card facts no one would ever need to make a case.
‘Sure. No problem. Er – any preference for where to start?’
‘Take them in whatever order you like. Do me a report once you’re done and put the data on HOLMES. Then let Tom know you’re finished and he’ll assign you something else.’
Behind his back, DI Judd smiled unpleasantly. Whatever he assigned me would be the equivalent of latrine duty. That was the price I’d paid for getting to be the bearer of bad tidings twice in twenty-four hours. Godley could be superstitious. I was a leaning ladder, a crack in the pavement, a black cat in his path. Unless I could come up with something good, I was done.
On the way out to the car, I couldn’t help looking for cameras in the halls and corridors. Not a one. Sam had bellied up to the front desk and was leaning over it, talking football with the security guard. I pointed towards the door as I passed the front desk . I’m out of here . Coming?
‘Five minutes,’ he said, spreading his hand wide to hold up five chubby fingers. He looked as innocent, bald and plump as a toddler. If toddlers routinely sweated through their clothes. And had nose hair.
‘Five minutes,’ I repeated. ‘Then I’m gone.’
I got a swift grin in response. He knew I’d wait ten. He also knew I’d leave after ten minutes exactly, if he hadn’t emerged by then. Sam could find his own way back to the incident room, or home, or to the nearest pub. I would owe him the pint I’d promised him. I was good for it.
The short walk to the car was enough to chill me to the bone. When I sat in the driver’s seat, I spent a couple of minutes rubbing my hands together, trying to get the blood moving in them. I didn’t think I would ever be warm again. The wind was coming straight off the river, cutting through the narrow streets with knife-like sharpness. I guessed the river was one of the things that had brought Rebecca to the area, though she hadn’t managed to get herself a view of the Thames. She’d looked at people. And maybe, I thought with quickening interest as I scanned the apartment building opposite, they had looked at her. Looked at her and looked at her visitor. It was worth knocking on some doors, surely.
But not myself. I had my orders. There was absolutely no merit in setting off on my own initiative again, not with the superintendent’s epic bollocking still ringing in my ears. Instead, I dug out my phone and rang him, explaining what I had noticed as concisely as I could, and suggesting that it might be
‘I’ll check with the porter to see if there’s any CCTV in the building,’ Sam volunteered. ‘Whoever was on duty last night might remember Rebecca leaving, too. She was the sort of girl you’d notice, wasn’t she?’
I thought of the park, the body lying at my feet in the charred grass. Someone had noticed her, all right, in her heels and her tightly fitted dress. Someone had noticed, and hated, and wanted to destroy her.
‘Good,’ Godley said, and Sam shot out without waiting for anything else. ‘Maeve, I want you to be the one who talks to Rebecca’s family, her colleagues and other friends as well as the ex-boyfriend – see if you can find out what was going on in her life. Don’t get started until we’ve got in touch with her next of kin to let them know what’s happened. I don’t want you getting ahead of us again.’
I tried not to look disappointed. On an investigation like this, background information on the victim wasn’t usually that important. It was busy work, something that needed to be done but that wasn’t remotely likely to find our killer. Plodding research with formulaic questions, file-card facts no one would ever need to make a case.
‘Sure. No problem. Er – any preference for where to start?’
‘Take them in whatever order you like. Do me a report once you’re done and put the data on HOLMES. Then let Tom know you’re finished and he’ll assign you something else.’
Behind his back, DI Judd smiled unpleasantly. Whatever he assigned me would be the equivalent of latrine duty. That was the price I’d paid for getting to be the bearer of bad tidings twice in twenty-four hours. Godley could be superstitious. I was a leaning ladder, a crack in the pavement, a black cat in his path. Unless I could come up with something good, I was done.
On the way out to the car, I couldn’t help looking for cameras in the halls and corridors. Not a one. Sam had bellied up to the front desk and was leaning over it, talking football with the security guard. I pointed towards the door as I passed the front desk . I’m out of here . Coming?
‘Five minutes,’ he said, spreading his hand wide to hold up five chubby fingers. He looked as innocent, bald and plump as a toddler. If toddlers routinely sweated through their clothes. And had nose hair.
‘Five minutes,’ I repeated. ‘Then I’m gone.’
I got a swift grin in response. He knew I’d wait ten. He also knew I’d leave after ten minutes exactly, if he hadn’t emerged by then. Sam could find his own way back to the incident room, or home, or to the nearest pub. I would owe him the pint I’d promised him. I was good for it.
The short walk to the car was enough to chill me to the bone. When I sat in the driver’s seat, I spent a couple of minutes rubbing my hands together, trying to get the blood moving in them. I didn’t think I would ever be warm again. The wind was coming straight off the river, cutting through the narrow streets with knife-like sharpness. I guessed the river was one of the things that had brought Rebecca to the area, though she hadn’t managed to get herself a view of the Thames. She’d looked at people. And maybe, I thought with quickening interest as I scanned the apartment building opposite, they had looked at her. Looked at her and looked at her visitor. It was worth knocking on some doors, surely.
But not myself. I had my orders. There was absolutely no merit in setting off on my own initiative again, not with the superintendent’s epic bollocking still ringing in my ears. Instead, I dug out my phone and rang him, explaining what I had noticed as concisely as I could, and suggesting that it might be
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