Need You Dead

98 Saturday 30 April

Grace sat quietly in his office, pondering the words of the Super Recognizer’s text.

He thought back over Exton’s behaviour recently; the coincidence of him being in the vicinity of the dead woman’s flat for days before and on the night of her death; the GoPro memory card delivered to the Forensic Unit with nothing on it — presumably wiped clean or replaced with a blank; the GoPro found in his glove box.

But Weatherley said the image of the man leaving the flat was not Exton. So who was it? A different Sussex police officer?

Who?

Hopefully, Weatherley had made a mistake. The image was terrible, blurred by the rain, how could anyone make a positive ID from that? He appreciated he did not have Super Recognizer skills, but all he could have said, if giving evidence in a court of law, was that the figure in the video entering and leaving the apartment block was of a similar height to DS Exton. Nothing else.

Perhaps when Weatherley examined the footage in the morning, he’d come to the same conclusion, he thought. He went through his team members who were around the same height as Exton. Guy? Jack? Donald? Kevin? Then he was interrupted by his mobile phone ringing. It was Ray Packham, sounding deeply on edge.

‘Roy,’ he said. ‘I’m up at the HTCU offices in Haywards Heath and we’ve got Lorna Belling’s laptop up and running. There’s something you need to see on this.’

‘Right, what?’

‘This is very sensitive, Roy. Very sensitive. I don’t want to risk talking about it over the phone.’

‘Can you email anything to me?’

‘No, too risky. I’ll bring it myself. Where are you at the moment?’

‘In my office.’

‘You need to see this right away, but we need to be private.’

‘We can be private in my office.’

‘Too risky, Roy.’

‘Ray, just what the hell do you have?’

‘Believe me, Roy, I have something I do not think you’re expecting.’

Grace turned and peered through the window. It was nearly dark outside.

‘Ray, what about we meet outside the main gates?’

‘No, too close.’

The man was sounding scared, he realized. Shit, what did he have? ‘Ray, what about the Tesco Superstore — on the edge of the industrial estate. Meet in the car park there?’

‘Good plan.’

‘When you enter it, go to the far side and turn left, and drive as far as you can go. Remind me, what car are you in?’

‘An Audi Q3, black.’

‘I’ll be in a plain Mondeo estate, I’ll wait for you there.’

‘I’ll be half an hour — hopefully less. Oh and listen, Roy, don’t say a word to anyone, OK?’

Hesitantly, he replied, ‘OK.’

Then he ended the call with his mind on fire. What was Packham about to reveal that was too risky to bring in to the Police HQ? Ordinarily he would have spoken to the one person he did totally and utterly trust, Glenn Branson, but he was in Portsmouth right now with Exton. He decided Batchelor, as his deputy, should be notified that they might be about to get a major development. He dialled the number, but it went to voicemail. He left a message asking the DI to call him back very urgently.

Then he texted Cleo to say he did not know when he would be home and would update her in an hour, picked up his car keys and headed outside.