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Warmest regards,
Louise
35
THE ATMOSPHERE INthe packed incident room at Gartcosh was febrile and crackling with tension as Chief Superintendent Miles Wakefield, a sour look on his face, entered with Malky Douglas in tow, carrying a sheaf of documents and files. The low hum of conversation stopped as if a switch was flicked. The room was full of a mix of uniformed cops and detectives in suits, their tie knots slackened and their faces weary. All clutched A4 books, or ring binders, and all looked tired. It was almost eight o’clock and they had had a hard day scene processing, and generally running about shaking trees, speaking to informants and scanning CCTV for the missing BMW that contained the three raiders who’d attempted to spring Hardie.
‘Fuck me, Miles looks bastard scunnered,’ said Ross to Max in a hoarse whisper that could be heard across the incident room.
‘You say something, Ross?’ barked Wakefield, eyeing Ross balefully.
‘No, boss. All good with me.’
Wakefield stared at Ross with an expression that looked like he’d had a sudden twinge of toothache. He shook his head, just slightly, firmed his stance, and then spoke. ‘Right, we don’t have long as I’m needed at Tuliallan, urgently. The DCC wants a face to face, and I want to leave here assured that we’re all over this, am I clear?’ His voice was as sour as the look on his face, which seemed to be carrying more lines than earlier in the day.
There were murmurs of assent.
‘Okay, I have direct oversight of this case, which as of now is wholly focused on the attempted breakout of Davie Hardie, and then the subsequent fatal shooting of him and his lawyer, Leo Hamilton. We will also be considering if and how this interacts with the discovery of the submerged corpse in the loch. No assumptions, okay? DCI Heather Davies is SIO, but under my direct supervision, deputy SIO is Acting DI Mark Bryan, who is joining from MIT 3. Jimmy Duggan is crime scene coordinator. Can we hear from you first, Jim?’
Jimmy scratched at his heavily stubbled chin and spoke, his Dublin accent rich. ‘Body from the loch has been recovered, but very little for us to do there, boss. She’s well decomposed, so it’ll have to wait for the post-mortem. We have a DNA profile on the database for Beata Dabrowski, so once we extract whatever DNA is available from the corpse, we should be able to make a positive ID. She was naked, it seems, but no chance of cause of death at the scene. ID will have to be via DNA, or maybe dental, she was using a dentist in Glasgow, so we’ll have comparators. No suggestion that the raiders touched anything, although we’ve taken all the clothing of the cops in the van. Bodies were photographed in situ, but were quickly removed, and PM is scheduled for tomorrow, not that cause of death is going to be much of a surprise.’
‘Aye, loss of a nappa tends to ruin your day. Any bullet recovery?’
‘We got lucky. The one that took out Leo Hamilton was deflected by the metal of the van after passing through his skull, and it was buried into the ground. A big old lump of lead. It’ll be going to ballistics straight away, once the forensic budget is approved.’
‘Consider it approved. What about the bullet that took out Hardie?’
‘Well, as he was stood when it happened, it would have passed straight through his skull, and into the countryside. PolSA are returning in daylight with metal detectors, but it’s unlikely, and to be honest, not vital. If I had to choose one to submit, it’d be Hamilton’s.’
‘Who’s attending the PMs?’ asked Wakefield.
‘That’s me, boss, together with Doreen Urquhart who’s handling productions,’ said Bryan.
‘Lucky you two. Okay, I’m on a real tight timescale here. How about the sniper’s firing point and lay-up point? Good work from your team there, Ross,’ said Wakefield, eyeing Ross, his voice laced with sarcasm.
‘All part of the service from Crocodile Dundee Craigie here, boss,’ said Ross, cheeks bulging as he chewed on an apple, a small fragment of the fruit flying out of his mouth. There was a ripple of laughter in the room.
‘Indeed … and remind me that we need a chat about how your man conveniently found himself nearby with a state-of-the-art drone, although the footage that’s been shared with me has made it a fortunate coincidence.’
‘Barney has a Zen-like ability to sniff out trouble, boss,’ said Ross, shrugging.
‘Aye, well, that’s for later. Are we sure it’s the firing point?’
‘I’d say so, there are signs in the foliage, and scrapes in the dirt where his boots dug in. I also think he cut some of the fronds away with a knife, or more likely snipped with something like a Leatherman.’
‘No sign of a shell casing?’ Wakefield said, turning to a uniformed inspector in the overalls often worn by the PolSA teams.
‘No, sir. Nothing there at all, but we did recover a cigarette butt, which doesn’t look too old. It’d been crudely buried at the site where DS Craigie thinks he camped.’
‘Has that been submitted, Jimmy?’ said Wakefield.
‘Yep, fast track. Costing a fortune, but we’ll hopefully have a profile by tomorrow, if it’s there to be found,’ said Jimmy Duggan.
‘Anything to add, Max?’ said Wakefield.
‘Well, someone certainly camped there, I could still detect a whiff of cigarette smoke and there was evidence of pegs, a rod and plenty of footprints. Someone stayed there, that’s for sure, and with the rifle components in the loch, I think we can make the assumption it wasthe sniper,’ said Max, his thoughts returning to Bruce. He looked at his phone, wondering whether he should call.
‘Ah, right. The weapon, what do we have?’
