Brook put those in a pile with the case he hadn’t reviewed at all. The three cases Copeland had reviewed just once were tossed on to the bottom shelf of the trolley.
Brook returned to the first three files. In one, he saw the name of Detective Inspector Robert Greatorix and let out an involuntary moan, sagging back on to his chair and recoiling immediately from the unforgiving metal.
Nine
Detective Sergeants Noble and Morton were deep in conversation when Brook pushed open the door with his knee. The metal chair appeared over the threshold first, Brook following a moment later.
‘Don’t mind me,’ said Brook. He retrieved the padded office chair from behind his old desk and replaced it with the metal one.
‘Back already,’ said Noble. ‘Those cases weren’t cold for long.’
‘Funny,’ said Brook. He nodded at Morton. ‘Rob.’
‘Getting on OK with Copeland?’ inquired Noble.
Brook stopped wheeling his chair towards the door. ‘We’re feeling each other out. He seems viable.’
‘Rob knew him.’
‘Oh?’ said Brook, raising an eyebrow to Morton.
‘Not well, I should say,’ said Morton. ‘But he was a good sort. Loyal to his team, good at his job.’
‘Worth knowing,’ nodded Brook. ‘Ever on his team?’
‘He was only a couple of years off retirement when I started here and I never worked under him,’ answered Morton. ‘But I rarely heard a bad word.’
Brook held his eyes. ‘Rarely?’
Morton looked around, as though the room had suddenly filled with spies. Then, his voice lowered. ‘Copeland has a temper, especially if the case. . .’
‘What?’ asked Brook, when Morton showed signs of finishing there. ‘We’re talking in confidence, Rob.’
‘Well, he has a blind spot,’ continued Morton. ‘His teenage sister was murdered when he was a kid and they never found the killer. Hilda, Matilda or something. It was why he joined the force. After that, if he was on any case with a young female victim and you messed up, he could be a bit twitchy about it, as though you were letting down his own sister.’
‘Never solved, you say,’ said Brook.
‘No,’ said Morton. ‘He looked at the case often enough, on the QT, but never got anywhere with it.’
‘Copeland reviewed the case?’ exclaimed Brook.
‘You ask me, he was never off it,’ replied Morton.
‘You’re telling me Brass let Copeland investigate his sister’s murder?’
‘That’s just it,’ said Morton, lowering his voice again. ‘Brass never knew. Not officially. Copeland knew personal involvement would disqualify him so he’d review the file then get another officer to sign off on it.’
‘And these officers would put their names to Copeland’s work even if they hadn’t re-interviewed a single witness,’ said Brook, tight-lipped.
Morton shrugged. ‘To be fair, Copeland wouldn’t let any other detective near it once he was in CID. We’re talking about his sister. He was obsessed. Who was going to argue? He was a DI at thirty and a DCI five years later.’
‘Even so. . .’ Brook halted, declining to pontificate further after his own fall from grace.
‘Maybe you’ll get to see the file,’ suggested Noble.
‘You think?’ replied Brook doubtfully. ‘I’ve got six cases. He reviewed five of them but only two of them more than once.’
‘Was he SIO on any?’ asked Noble.
‘Not one,’ replied Brook.
‘He’d keep those to himself,’ added Morton.
Brook raised an eyebrow in mock incredulity. ‘Really?’
Morton smiled sheepishly. ‘I mean, obviously. Who wouldn’t?’
‘So what cases are you looking at?’ inquired Noble.
‘I’ve not got that far,’ said Brook.
‘I’d forget the cases he only reviewed once. They’re almost certainly duds,’ said Noble. ‘Stick to the two he investigated more than once, he must think there’s some mileage there.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Brook. ‘Although there’s one drawback. Ex-DI Greatorix also looked at one of those
Brook returned to the first three files. In one, he saw the name of Detective Inspector Robert Greatorix and let out an involuntary moan, sagging back on to his chair and recoiling immediately from the unforgiving metal.
Nine
Detective Sergeants Noble and Morton were deep in conversation when Brook pushed open the door with his knee. The metal chair appeared over the threshold first, Brook following a moment later.
‘Don’t mind me,’ said Brook. He retrieved the padded office chair from behind his old desk and replaced it with the metal one.
‘Back already,’ said Noble. ‘Those cases weren’t cold for long.’
‘Funny,’ said Brook. He nodded at Morton. ‘Rob.’
‘Getting on OK with Copeland?’ inquired Noble.
Brook stopped wheeling his chair towards the door. ‘We’re feeling each other out. He seems viable.’
‘Rob knew him.’
‘Oh?’ said Brook, raising an eyebrow to Morton.
‘Not well, I should say,’ said Morton. ‘But he was a good sort. Loyal to his team, good at his job.’
‘Worth knowing,’ nodded Brook. ‘Ever on his team?’
‘He was only a couple of years off retirement when I started here and I never worked under him,’ answered Morton. ‘But I rarely heard a bad word.’
Brook held his eyes. ‘Rarely?’
Morton looked around, as though the room had suddenly filled with spies. Then, his voice lowered. ‘Copeland has a temper, especially if the case. . .’
‘What?’ asked Brook, when Morton showed signs of finishing there. ‘We’re talking in confidence, Rob.’
‘Well, he has a blind spot,’ continued Morton. ‘His teenage sister was murdered when he was a kid and they never found the killer. Hilda, Matilda or something. It was why he joined the force. After that, if he was on any case with a young female victim and you messed up, he could be a bit twitchy about it, as though you were letting down his own sister.’
‘Never solved, you say,’ said Brook.
‘No,’ said Morton. ‘He looked at the case often enough, on the QT, but never got anywhere with it.’
‘Copeland reviewed the case?’ exclaimed Brook.
‘You ask me, he was never off it,’ replied Morton.
‘You’re telling me Brass let Copeland investigate his sister’s murder?’
‘That’s just it,’ said Morton, lowering his voice again. ‘Brass never knew. Not officially. Copeland knew personal involvement would disqualify him so he’d review the file then get another officer to sign off on it.’
‘And these officers would put their names to Copeland’s work even if they hadn’t re-interviewed a single witness,’ said Brook, tight-lipped.
Morton shrugged. ‘To be fair, Copeland wouldn’t let any other detective near it once he was in CID. We’re talking about his sister. He was obsessed. Who was going to argue? He was a DI at thirty and a DCI five years later.’
‘Even so. . .’ Brook halted, declining to pontificate further after his own fall from grace.
‘Maybe you’ll get to see the file,’ suggested Noble.
‘You think?’ replied Brook doubtfully. ‘I’ve got six cases. He reviewed five of them but only two of them more than once.’
‘Was he SIO on any?’ asked Noble.
‘Not one,’ replied Brook.
‘He’d keep those to himself,’ added Morton.
Brook raised an eyebrow in mock incredulity. ‘Really?’
Morton smiled sheepishly. ‘I mean, obviously. Who wouldn’t?’
‘So what cases are you looking at?’ inquired Noble.
‘I’ve not got that far,’ said Brook.
‘I’d forget the cases he only reviewed once. They’re almost certainly duds,’ said Noble. ‘Stick to the two he investigated more than once, he must think there’s some mileage there.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Brook. ‘Although there’s one drawback. Ex-DI Greatorix also looked at one of those
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