Little Boy Blue

22

Helen sped through the city streets, pleased to be away from the station. She found the incident room claustrophobic and unnerving – photos of a happy, carefree Jake staring down at her from the murder board – and there was little point being there just now. Charlie was chasing down Jake’s clients, McAndrew was leading the house-to-house calls, and until something concrete turned up she was better used elsewhere.

As she slid past the stationary traffic, Helen felt her mood rise. Perhaps it was the fresh air, or the satisfaction that riding her bike always gave her, or maybe it was just that she was finally doing something. Her interview with Jake’s parents had yielded nothing, so it was good to be on the road at last, taking the lead.

Jim Grieves was still poring over Jake’s body, just as Sanderson, Charlie and the team were trying to climb inside his life. The items used to imprison and kill Jake, however, were only just being examined – Meredith and her team having recently returned from the crime scene – which is why Helen’s first port of call was the Police Laboratory at Woolston.

Meredith ushered Helen into the viewing area. Lying on the table in front of them were the wet sheets, the loose reel of silver duct tape and the leather restraints – their killer’s weapons of choice.

‘Preliminary testing on the victim’s clothing and the bondage items has shown up only one source of DNA – the victim’s. We’ll run them again, but I wouldn’t bank on anything more on that front.’

Helen nodded, disappointed but not surprised.

‘As for the rest of it, there’s nothing particularly unusual about these items. The duct tape can be bought from any hardware store and though the wet sheets and restraints are specialist gear, they’re the standard size, colour and design. They were probably bought off the shelf, rather than custom made.’

‘Had they been used before? Was this gear the perpetrator already owned?’

‘Probably not, given the lack of DNA traces. Plus, look at this.’

Meredith reached forward and picked up the leather straps, holding them up to the light. Intrigued, Helen leant in closer.

‘The hole which the buckle prong penetrated to secure the victim has been punched through cleanly. You can see the light through it.’

‘But the others haven’t,’ Helen replied, running a gloved finger over the sequence of closed holes. ‘Which suggests that last night was the first time these straps had been used.’

‘Your killer could have used them before perhaps, practised at home -’

‘But he’d have to have known exactly which hole he’d use. And unless he correctly guessed the diameter of the victim’s ankle and the chair leg then -’

‘Exactly, so let’s assume they’re brand new. That might narrow the field down a little?’ Meredith offered hopefully.

Thanking her, Helen pulled her mobile from her pocket and headed on her way, speed-dialling Edwards back at base.

By the time she left the building, he’d already pinged her his list of local bondage outlets. And by the time she was on her bike, they’d divided up the list – split four ways between Edwards, Helen and a couple of broad-minded DCs.

It was time to take a walk on the wild side.