The Devil's Edge

The Devil's Edge by Stephen Booth Page B

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Authors: Stephen Booth
Tags: Fiction, General, Thrillers, Crime
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lot of money would have to be spent on providing a new headquarters building – money that just wasn’t available now, of course.
    Last year, the loss of A Division in a cost-cutting restructure had really thrown a spanner in the works and focused the minds of the management team. The territory that had once formed a separate Basic Command Unit in the south-east of the county had now been divided up between C and D Divisions. Who knew how long E Division would last, when it had started to look so alphabetically surplus to requirements?
    Detective Superintendent Hazel Branagh was Senior Investigating Officer on the Riddings murder. A major inquiry was anticipated. That was because there were no obvious suspects, and no apparent leads that might produce one in a short time frame. A HOLMES incident room was being activated next door right now, the technicians and HOLMES operators arriving to set up the system. From now on, the pattern of the operation would be governed step by step as laid down in the protocols for the Home Office’s Large Major Enquiry System. A collator would arrive from headquarters, and a specialist DS to task teams of detectives.
    Besides, the division was already facing a constant barrage of criticism, and everyone was aware of it.
    ‘These villages are quiet, peaceful communities,’ said Branagh, opening the morning’s briefing. ‘We can’t allow violent incidents like these to make people living in this area feel unsafe. It’s our job to keep them safe, and to make sure they feel safe. One way we’re going to do that is with a visible police presence. Our uniformed colleagues will ensure there are patrol cars, and officers on the street.’
    It was funny, reflected Cooper, how a visible police presence seemed to be the answer to so many issues. Were the public really so reassured by the sight of a uniform, even when the officer inside clearly wasn’t catching any criminals? Well, that seemed to be the current wisdom. He supposed detectives would be put back into uniform before too long. Plain clothes were contrary to the spirit of high-visibility policing, after all. He was rarely a visible police presence, until he pulled out his warrant card.
    ‘There’s a big confidence issue here, in more ways than one,’ Branagh was saying. ‘You all know that we face upheavals, and the possibility of some restructuring. So we have to demonstrate that Derbyshire Constabulary are up to the job of dealing with a major inquiry. In particular, we have to prove that we here in E Division are as capable as anyone of policing our own area. I don’t have to spell that out for you any further. I’m sure you all understand what’s at stake. It could be your entire future. All of our futures. I’m relying on you all to show exactly what you can do.’
    ‘No pressure, then,’ whispered Murfin to Cooper. ‘Should be a doddle.’
    ‘Shush, Gavin.’
    ‘Oh, sorry, boss.’
    Cooper wondered how many of the other officers in the room were feeling the same excitement that he was. The older hands, like Gavin Murfin, put on an air of world-weary resignation, as if to suggest they’d seen it all before. Been there, done that. Nothing new in the world for those who were approaching their thirty. But he bet they still had that feeling deep inside, that guilty thrill of a high-profile murder case.
    ‘I don’t care how secluded the houses on Curbar Lane are,’ said Branagh. ‘The neighbours in the village must have seen something. It’s just not conceivable that our suspects could have reconnoitred their target in advance, then come in and gone out again – all without anyone seeing them or noticing any suspicious activity, even a strange vehicle. We need to canvass all the neighbours. And I mean all of them. It’s not a big village. We have the manpower available, and we’re going to get round every household, however long it takes. They’re not getting away from this one without leaving some traces. A

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