I See You(38)



‘Are you looking for the incident room?’

Kelly recognised the BBC tones of whoever she had spoken to on the phone earlier that day, and she turned round to see a woman with long, straight blonde hair, pushed out of her eyes with a black velvet hairband. She wore tapered trousers and ballet pumps, and she thrust her hand towards Kelly. ‘Lucinda. I’m one of the analysts. You’re Kelly, right?’

Kelly nodded gratefully. ‘I’m here to see the DI.’

Lucinda pushed the door open. ‘The meeting’s through here. Come on, I’ll show you.’

‘Meeting?’ Kelly followed Lucinda through the double doors, into a large open-plan office filled with around a dozen desks. On one side of the space was a separate office.

‘That’s the DCI’s office. Not that he ever uses it. He’s only six months off retirement and he’s got so many rest days in lieu to use up he’s practically part-time nowadays. He’s all right though, Diggers – when he’s here.’

Kelly’s ears pricked up at the familiar nickname. ‘That’s not Alan Digby, by any chance?’

Lucinda looked surprised. ‘The very same! How do you know him?’

‘He was my DI in BTP. He transferred to the Met not long after, and I heard he’d been promoted. He was a good guvnor.’ Lucinda led the way through the open-plan office, and Kelly looked around, taking everything in. Even empty, the atmosphere had the buzzy feeling she knew so well from her own time working on serious crime investigations. Each desk had two computer screens, and at least three phones were ringing; the sound moving around the room as the calls transferred automatically, in search of a response. Somehow, even the phones here rang more insistently, as though they held the key to unlocking whatever mystery MIT was working on that week. This was what Kelly had joined the job to do, and a familiar surge of energy ran through her.

‘They’ll go to the answer service,’ Lucinda said, catching Kelly looking at the flashing phone nearest to them, ‘and someone will call them back.’

‘Where is everyone?’

‘In briefing. The DI likes everyone to attend. He calls it the NASA theory.’

Kelly looked blankly at her, and Lucinda grinned.

‘So President Kennedy visits NASA and gets chatting to one of the cleaners. He asks him what his job is, and without missing a beat, the cleaner tells him, “I’m helping to put a man on the moon, Mr President.” Nick’s theory is that if the whole Murder Investigation Team comes to briefings, including the cleaners, we can’t miss anything.’

‘That’s such a great approach; is he nice to work for?’ She followed Lucinda across the room, towards an open doorway.

‘He’s a good detective,’ Lucinda said. Kelly got the distinct impression the analyst had chosen her words carefully, but there was no time to push her for more information. They had reached the briefing room and Lucinda ushered her through the open door. ‘Boss, this is Kelly Swift, from BTP.’

‘Come on in, we’re about to make a start.’

Kelly felt her stomach rumble and wasn’t sure if it was nerves or hunger. She stood at the back of the room with Lucinda and glanced around her, trying not to make it obvious she was doing so. DI Rampello hadn’t said anything about a briefing; she had expected to speak to him in his office, perhaps with one of the enquiry team.

‘Welcome, everyone. This is a briefing for Operation FURNISS. I know you’ve all had a long day, and some of you are far from finished, so I’ll keep this as short as I can.’ The DI spoke as fast as he had done on the phone. It was a large room, and he wasn’t making any discernible effort to raise his voice; Kelly had to listen intently to catch every word. She wondered why he didn’t speak up, then she looked at the rest of the team, concentrating hard so as not to miss anything, and realised it was a deliberate – and clever – strategy.

‘For the benefit of those of you new to the team, Tania Beckett’s body was found in Cranley Gardens, Muswell Hill, four days ago; at eleven p.m. on Monday 16 November by Geoffrey Skinner, a dog walker.’ Kelly wondered how old DI Rampello was. He looked in his early thirties; young to be an inspector. He was square and stocky, with a Mediterranean colouring to match his name, if not his estuary vowels. Five o’clock shadow covered the lower half of his face, and Kelly could make out the shadow of a tattoo on his forearm, just visible through the fabric of his shirtsleeve.

As the DI spoke he paced from one side of the room to the other, one hand waving the notes to which he hadn’t yet needed to refer. ‘Tania was a teaching assistant at St Christopher’s primary school, in Holloway. She was due home at four thirty p.m., and when she wasn’t home by ten, her fiancé David Parker reported her missing. Uniform took a MISPER report and graded her as low risk.’ Kelly wasn’t sure if she was imagining the trace of reproach in his voice, and hoped the shift officers who attended the original call weren’t blaming themselves for what happened to Tania. From the little Kelly knew about the case it was unlikely her murder could have been prevented.

‘Tania’s body was found in a wooded section of the park, in an area known to be frequented for casual sex. Crime Scene Investigators found a number of used condoms with deterioration that suggests they pre-date the murder by several weeks. Tania was fully clothed except for her knickers, which weren’t found at the scene and haven’t yet been recovered. The strap of her bag had been used to strangle her, and the post-mortem confirmed the cause of death as asphyxiation.’

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