Need You Dead

90 Friday 29 April

As he headed back to his office, his phone rang. It was Kevin Hall.

‘Boss,’ he said, ‘this may be nothing, but I thought you should know. I’ve just spoken with a Keith Wadey, who’s the Assistant Port Engineer of Shoreham Port. He carries out a fortnightly side-scan sonar check of the harbour, looking for obstacles — in particular submerged vehicles — that might damage the propellers or hulls of ships in the harbour. Earlier today he recovered an Apple MacBook Pro laptop from Arlington Basin. It’s a recent model, fifteen-inch optical screen, and from its condition he thinks it has only recently been deposited. He reported it, thinking it might be suspicious — perhaps stolen. An alert detective at John Street was aware that we are looking for a laptop and phone that could be missing from Lorna Belling’s flat in Vallance Mansions and phoned the Incident Room, and was put through to me.’

‘How recently does Wadey think it was dumped, Kevin?’

‘Within the past two weeks, he’s pretty sure — since his last scan.’

Grace felt a beat of excitement. ‘You need to speak to Digital Forensics, Kevin, and see if they can restore any of the data.’

‘I’m on it, boss. Ray Packham has collected the laptop from Shoreham. He’s going to pack it in rice and believes he’ll be able to recover all the data from it as soon as it has dried out — he reckons twenty-four hours will do it. I’ve also asked Ray for the serial number — I should be able to trace it to the supplier and purchaser from that.’

‘Nice work, Kevin,’ Grace said. ‘Let me know as soon as you have anything.’

‘Yes, boss!’

Grace entered his office and sat at his desk, thinking about this. Then he googled MacBook Pro 15-inch screen models. Prices started at around £1,500 for the most basic model. Then he went to eBay and did a search there. Second-hand values were high, from £1,500 upwards.

So, he thought, anyone who had stolen one of these would surely try to sell it — even on a criminal black market it would be worth several hundred pounds, minimum. What possible reason could anyone have for throwing one into the harbour?

Other than to get rid of it. Because?

There was evidence on it?

Possibly. More than possibly?

Could this one be connected to Lorna Belling? He had a feeling that it just might.

Hopefully, he’d find out soon enough.

He opened his address book and looked for the contact details for Jonathan Jackson on the Super Recognizer Team that Ray Packham had sent him yesterday.

It had been a good decade, if not longer, since the detective had left Sussex Police to join the Metropolitan Police — at a time when the Met were recruiting from the provinces, tempting officers with substantially larger pay packets and fewer unsociable work hours.

Grace had been sorry to lose Jackson, who had been a dependable member of his team. He found the number and dialled it. Jackson answered on the second ring.

‘Good to hear from you, guv! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?’

‘I’m told you’re involved with the Super Recognizer team — is that right?’

‘Yes, very much so.’

‘If I needed their help, how quickly could that happen?’

‘Just as fast as you want, guv. I can put you through to MetCU and they’ll allocate a duty Super Recognizer to you.’

‘What do they need to work from, Jonathan?’

‘Still photographs or video — obviously the better the quality, the more chance we have of making an accurate identification.’

‘Would we send it up to you, or do you have someone who could come down and look at it in situ?’

‘They’d send someone down to you, preferably.’

‘Great. When are you on-call until, Jonathan?’

‘Like you, guv. 24/7. Call me anytime you need me.’

Grace thanked him and ended the call.

Jon Exton, now their prime suspect, was in the Eastbourne District General Hospital, under a round-the-clock police guard. As soon as he was well enough to be interviewed he would be arrested and transported to the central police station in Portsmouth.

But. He was still struggling to see Exton as a suspect, despite all he knew and had experienced. There was something about the DS that was just so straight, so honest.

Equally, he knew, from all his experience, it was precisely those qualities that enabled many killers to evade justice for years.

With just a tad of reluctance he made a series of phone calls, to Superintendent Darke at Professional Standards, the Head of Corporate Comms and to the Detective Chief Superintendent, Head of CID, setting up a meeting for late afternoon with Pewe and the Chief Constable to discuss the interview process and media strategy for one of their trusted detectives on his release from hospital.