Silent Scream

Seven

‘Okay folks, hope you all got some rest and kissed your loved ones goodbye.’

‘Yeah, no social life for the foreseeable future,’ Dawson groaned. ‘So, no change for Stacey but the rest of us have real lives.’

Kim ignored him. For now. ‘The TUBs want this one solved by the end of the week.’

They all knew her acronym stood for Totally Unreasonable Brass. Substitution of the last word was optional, dependent on her mood.

Dawson sighed. ‘What if our murderer didn’t get the memo, Guv?’ he asked, checking his mobile phone.

‘Then come next Friday I’ll be arresting you and trust me, I can make it stick.’

Dawson laughed.

She remained serious. ‘Keep pissing me off, Kev, and it won’t be a joke. Now, what did we get from the post mortem?’

He took out his notebook. ‘Lungs full of water, definitely drowned. Two bruises just above her breasts. No sign of sexual assault, but difficult to tell.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Yep, she had chicken korma for dinner.’

‘Great, that’ll break the case wide open.’

Dawson shrugged. ‘Not really much to come out of it, Guv.’

‘Bryant?’

He moved a few pieces of paper but Kim knew that any information was already in his head.

‘The area was canvassed again yesterday but none of the neighbours saw or heard a thing. A couple of them knew her in passing but it would appear she wasn’t a coffee morning kind of person. Not the most sociable of sorts.’

‘Oh well, there’s a motive. Killed for her lack of community spirit.’

‘Folks been killed for less, Guv,’ Bryant responded and she had to concede the point. Three months earlier they had investigated the murder of a male nurse who had been killed for two cans of beer and the loose change in his pocket.

‘Anything else?’

Bryant picked up another piece of paper. ‘Nothing from forensics yet. Obviously no footprint evidence and the fibre analysis has just started.’

Kim thought about Locard’s exchange principle. It held the theory that the perpetrator of a crime will bring something to the scene and leave with something from it. It could be anything from a hair to a simple fibre. The art was in finding it. And with a crime scene trampled by eight fire officers and a waterlogged bathroom, trace evidence was not going to raise its hand voluntarily.

‘Prints?’

Bryant shook his head. ‘And we all know the murder weapon was a pair of hands so we’re unlikely to find them thrown in a bush somewhere.’

‘You know, Guv, it ain’t like this on CSI,’ Stacey offered. ‘Nothing on her phone either. All incoming and outgoing calls are either to St Joseph’s or local restaurants. Her contact list ain’t all that long.’

‘No friends or family at all?’

‘Certainly none she cared to keep in touch with. I’ve requested her home phone records and her laptop is on the way. Maybe there’ll be something there.’

Kim grunted. ‘So, basically, thirty-six hours in and we’ve got absolutely bugger all. We know nothing about this woman.’

Bryant stood. ‘Give me just a minute, Guv,’ he said and left the room.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Okay, while Bryant powders his nose, let’s recap.’ She looked to the board which held barely more information than it had the day before.

‘We have a woman in her late forties who was ambitious and hard-working. She was not particularly sociable or popular. She lived alone, with no pets and no family connections. She was not involved in any dangerous activity and seems to have had no hobbies or interests whatsoever.’

‘That may not be the case,’ Bryant said, taking his seat. ‘Apparently she was quite interested in an archaeological dig that’s just been authorised to take place somewhere in Rowley Regis.’

‘And you know this how?’

‘Just spoke to Courtney.’

‘Courtney who?’

‘Courtney who brought us coffee all day yesterday. I asked if our victim had spoken to anyone different during the last few weeks. Courtney had been asked to get a number for a Professor Milton at Worcester College.’

‘I saw something on the local news about that,’ Stacey offered. ‘The Professor's been trying to get permission to work on that site for ages. It’s just a field since the old kids’ home caught fire but it’s rumoured to hold buried coins. He’s been fighting objections for about two years but got the final go ahead this week. It made the national news ‘cos of the long court battle.’

Finally, Kim felt the stirrings of excitement. Expressing interest in a local activity was hardly a smoking gun but it was more than they had ten minutes ago.

‘Okay, you two carry on digging, excuse the pun. Bryant, go fire up the Batmobile.’

Dawson sighed heavily.

Kim grabbed her jacket and paused at Dawson’s desk. ‘Stace, don’t you need the toilet right about now?’

‘No, Guv, I’m fine ...’

‘Stacey, leave the room.’

Tact and diplomacy had been invented by someone with too much time on their hands.

‘Kev, put your phone down a minute and listen. I know you're going through it a bit right now but you really brought it on yourself. If you'd managed to keep your dick in your pants for another couple of weeks you'd be in the loving embrace of your girlfriend and newborn daughter instead of back in your mum's spare room.’

Kim was not in the habit of employing sensitivity with her team members. She had enough trouble conjuring it for the general public.

‘It was a stupid, drunken mistake at a stag party ...’

‘Kev, no offence, that's your problem not mine. But if you don't stop sulking like a little girl every time you don’t get your own way, that desk over there will not be the only one going spare. Do we understand each other?’

She gave him a hard stare. He swallowed and then nodded.

Without another word Kim left the room and headed down the stairs.

Dawson was a gifted detective but the line he was treading was a very thin one indeed.