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Chapter 11
Wednesday 3rd February
Cheltenham Central Police Station
‘Right, everyone’s here, I think. West Midlands, do you want to start? Any joy from your appeal for witnesses or any connections in any of our other towns and cities? Anyone spot your mysterious midnight runner?’
It’s 5pm and DCI Steph Warden has just arranged a quick Operation Shearwater conference call, the officers involved all agreeing that a daily catch up, or as close to daily as they can manage, is probably a good idea right now. She’s sitting at one end of a long table which takes up most of the meeting room, phone in front of her, loudspeaker on so she and the others in the room, four members of her team, can hear the conversation. There’s silence for a few seconds, then the sound of rustling paper, and finally DCI Priya Thomson says:
‘Sorry … with you now. First of all, nothing useful yet from our appeal to people who might have known Jane – a few have come forward from all three places but they haven’t told us anything helpful so far. And as for our midnight runner, well, I’m frankly amazed at how many people seem to be as mad as you and Jess, Steph. We’ve had more than twenty calls since we put the appeal out this morning, all saying they’d either seen someone running on Sunday night or had actually been out themselves and wanted to eliminate themselves from the enquiry. We’re working our way through them but so far nothing jumps out; we’ll keep you posted though. And nothing else to report at all, I’m afraid. We’re looking closely into Jane Holland’s life and background, just to see if there’s anything there, anyone who might have held a grudge, but nothing so far. No links to Lisa Turner either, or to Mary Ellis, that we can find. It’s getting bloody depressing, I can tell you that.’
‘I bet,’ says Steph, with feeling. She’s worked on enough big murder cases to have had her fair share of dead ends too, and she knows what it feels like. It’s soul-destroying.
‘Thames Valley? Linda, any news from you?’
DCI Linda Lake coughs, then says:
‘We’ve been going through all the CCTV footage from the night of Lisa’s murder again with a fine-tooth comb. We haven’t spotted any runners at all though, unfortunately. I suppose itwasvery lateNew Year’s Eve into New Year’s Day – maybe even the most dedicated runner takes a day off. Or maybe he did this one differently. Anyway, whatever the reason, no joy here.’
Steph nods, then remembers Linda can’t actually see her.
‘Bummer,’ she says. ‘OK, well just to update you on what we’re up to here, Mary Ellis does, as we all hoped and indeed generally thought, seem to be for real, as I’m sure you’ll all know by now. We’d already ruled out her being in Oxford at New Year, and as for the 31st of January into Monday the 1st of February, it does appear that she was at home here in Cheltenham all night as she claims. We have mobile phone analysis on her number now and it pinged all night right here in town. So, unless she went off to Birmingham to kill Jane Holland without her phone – and we really don’t think she did, do we Jess?’—she turns to look at her colleague, who shakes her head—‘then we believe she’s in the clear. Unless anything else turns up to contradict that, obviously.’
‘Fine. I’m happy to consider her as nothing more than another potential victim, but one who for some as yet unknown reason the killer chose to forewarn,’ says Linda Lake, and there are murmurs of agreement from Priya and Bryn.
Steph nods.
‘Yes, I think she’s being straight with us. I do believe the first she knew of any of this was when she received that diary in the post. What do you think, Jess, having spent a bit more time with her today?’
Jess, who’s sitting opposite her, nods.
‘I agree. She’s pretty unsettled by it all, I’d say. I can’t see her having any involvement. We’re still discussing what to do on the 1st of April, by the way, and she’s actually suggested potentially staying put at home and acting as bait for the killer, if he dares to come for her, knowing she’s bound to have police protection. But I’ve told her we can talk about that nearer the time.’
There are expressions of surprise from the voices on the speakerphone.
‘Interesting,’ says Linda.
‘It is. And something to think about,’ says Steph. ‘And we’ve had no leaks to the press about the possible connection between our two murders, or about the existence of the diary. So, I’m hoping that means we can trust her, and her housemate, who’s the only other person who knows these details.’
‘Great,’ says Priya’s voice from the speaker. ‘Is Bryn with us? What are you doing in Cardiff?’
‘I’m here,’ booms DCI Lewis. ‘And we’re a bit unsettled now too, if I’m honest. We may be less than four weeks away from our own murder and we currently have no way of protecting the potential victim, other than the prospect of telling thousands of men and boys to lock themselves in a cellar or whatever for twenty-four hours on the 1st of March. And I can’t see the powers that be sanctioning that, can you? We need to find this killer, guys.’
There are a few seconds of silence. Then Steph says:
‘We do. Let’s speak again tomorrow. Good luck all.’
‘Cheers, Steph,’ says Bryn. ‘I think we’re going to need it. Luck, or a bloody miracle.’
