One of Us Is Dead

81 Monday 17 October 2022

Roy Grace was about to enter the conference room for the 8.30 a.m. briefing on Operation Meadow, when his phone rang. It was the Crime Scene Manager.

‘Chris, good morning,’ he said, and stepped to one side as a couple of his team walked past.

‘Sir, I thought you should know right away, we’ve found something of interest in one of the bin bags,’ Chris Gee said.

‘Tell me?’

‘It’s a receipt from a company called PPB in Dartford. It’s for a roll of industrial-size mirror foil, purchased on October the fourth. Sounds like the same kind of foil that we found fragments of at the Ferrari crash scene.’

Grace thought for a moment of the implications. The chances of two different people buying this product, who both lived in Arundel Terrace, were infinitesimally small. It was further evidence that Rorke had been living there.

‘Brilliant work, Chris,’ he said.

Ending the call and thinking hard, he was interrupted by Norman Potting’s voice. ‘Morning, boss.’

The DS was walking past him and about to enter the conference room. ‘Norman!’ he called out.

Potting turned.

Grace brought him quickly up to speed with the information he’d just received from Gee. ‘I’d like you to go straight up to Dartford, take Velvet, and see what you can find out about who the purchaser was and how they paid, and if you can, from the store’s CCTV, what vehicle he arrived in. I’m assuming a van for a roll that size.’

‘Dartford in the Monday morning rush hour on the M25, boss?’ Potting said with a wry smile. ‘Glenn gets Barbados and I get Dartford, lucky me.’

‘Count your blessings, Norman.’

‘Ran out of fingers to count them on a long time ago, boss.’

As Potting headed into the room in search of DC Wilde, Grace punched his right fist in the palm of his left hand, repeatedly, excitedly. This, he thought, could be the first, possible, vindication of the raid. Then he heard Glenn Branson’s voice behind him.

‘You’re looking full of beans!’

He turned and grinned at the DI. ‘I am.’

‘Oh?’

As Grace updated him, Branson nodded. Then said, ‘As you say, he would have needed a van to collect a roll that big. We can get an ANPR check of that area done.’

‘That warehouse is just off the M25,’ Grace said. ‘How many vans do you think will have been on that road?’

‘Maybe he’s been careless enough to use his Kingsway Electrical van?’

‘Maybe, and we need to do that urgently,’ Grace said. ‘But we might get an even better result from a description of whoever purchased the foil — see if it matches Rorke. And maybe we could get really lucky if the foil company have internal CCTV. I’m sending Norman and Velvet there.’

‘I’ve been thinking, boss,’ Branson said.

‘OK?’

‘If Rorke had faked his disappearance, why would he return to the city where he’s known? Even if he’s changed his appearance. You and I know from the Facial Recognition Team that recognition is done mathematically, not strictly by physical appearance — so he would likely be recognized regardless of how much he altered his looks. Wouldn’t Rorke know this? Why would he stay around?’

‘He’s got away from us once by faking his disappearance, and that’s bolstered his confidence. Made him think he’s invincible. And he is — until, as I told you, he makes a mistake through hubris.’

‘And now he has made one, right? With the receipt for the foil?’

‘Remember what we were talking about at the crash scene, investigating a murder?’

Branson frowned.

‘About clearing the ground?’

‘Yeah, of course. Clear the ground beneath your feet, right?’

‘Exactly. Rufus Rorke has failed to clear the ground beneath his. He should have taken all the rubbish from his apartment to a tip — or at least somewhere a long way from his place.’

‘Ironic, isn’t it, that sometimes the same rules apply to both us and the villains.’

‘It is. Now all we have to do is go catch him.’

‘And we’ve no idea where he is.’

‘At least we know where he was.’

‘And that’s going to help us?’

‘It’s one less place to worry about where he might be.’ Grace smiled grimly. ‘We can eliminate Arundel Terrace.’

‘Which only leaves us with the entire rest of the world to search.’

He nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it. Until we get a break.’

‘Until — or if?’

‘We’ve found one mistake. Jamie Carruthers is watching the dark web like a hawk for any activity that could be him. He will make another mistake — people like Rorke always do, especially when they’re spooked. And from the fact he’s vacated his apartment, it looks like we’ve at least succeeded in doing that.’

He was interrupted by his phone ringing. Looking at the display he saw it was the ACC, Nigel Downing.

Waving an apology to Glenn he answered it. ‘Good morning, sir.’

Downing was not a happy bunny. ‘Roy, good morning, this whole Operation Meadow seems to be getting quite expensive, budget-wise. You had a surveillance team on Fiona Davies, and they came up with nothing positive. Earlier this morning you organized a raid on what turned out, apparently, to be an empty apartment. I’d like to see you to review what you’re doing and get an update? I’ve got a free slot at midday.’

Ending the call, for the first time since working with the ACC, Grace was feeling uncomfortable echoes of when Cassian Pewe was in that role. And the truth was: the ACC had a point, and he suddenly had a big moment of doubt. He stood still, not ready to enter the conference room just yet, trying to take stock.

They were looking for a suspect who had died over two years ago. They’d put surveillance on his ‘widow’, which had yielded absolutely nothing. They’d just raided an address linked to their suspect to find absolutely no trace of him at all or any sign that he had been living there, other than the stale smell of cigar smoke and a single receipt. For mirror foil. And, at this moment, he had no way of establishing whether the fragments of foil found at the crash scene were from the roll supplied by the company PPB in Dartford. Maybe in time the forensic labs could prove it — or not. But, even so, unless Emily Denyer could link the credit card payment to an account the suspect held, they would still be no further forward.

They desperately needed a break. He walked through into the conference room, hoping to hell one of his team had some good news.