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Authors: Paul Finch

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BOOK: Sacrifice
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‘Worrying, isn’t it?’ Garrickson said. ‘That there’s a worse maniac out there than the M1 murderers.’

Heck eyed him carefully, wondering if there’d been a hidden barb there.

With Gemma’s two most experienced DIs unavailable – Des Palliser retired and Bob Hunter grounded – Garrickson had been brought in as her deputy for the duration of this enquiry. Whether Gemma was pleased about it, or irritated, nobody had dared ask, though they all knew that she’d been summoned upstairs the previous day, ostensibly for a meeting with NCG Director Joe Wullerton, only to find herself confronted by the entire Association of Chief Police Officers Crime Committee. As well as being allocated this case in its entirety – SCU were to provide the bulk of the investigation team – she was also given Garrickson … but as her number two or as her watchdog?

Heck had seen Garrickson around the Yard, but had never spoken to him and, in truth, hadn’t known much about him except that he was one of those smooth operators from the Organised Crime Division; well-dressed, swaggering, supremely confident that the importance of his position meant he could spend any amount of time drinking with villains in shady London pubs and never be questioned about it. His brutish physique perfectly complemented this ‘diamond geezer’ attitude. He was of squat, powerful build, had broad cheekbones, a square jaw and mean eyes; his hair was a stiff red thatch. Even wearing his best Savile Row suit with a purple silk handkerchief poking from the breast pocket, he looked like a cheap gangster.

‘But what kind of motivation are we looking at here?’ Ben Kane asked. A naturally studious type, he was always the first in SCU to hit the analysis button.

‘He wants to create a sensation,’ someone suggested. ‘That’s all it can be … a macabre sensation.’

‘Yeah, he’s putting on a show,’ another voice agreed. ‘A big, sick show.’

‘There’s got to be more to it than that,’ Shawna said. ‘Are there hidden meanings behind these special days?’

Gemma glanced towards Detective Sergeant Eric Fisher, who, as their main intelligence man, tended to be a mine of information on numerous subjects.

Fisher shrugged his big shoulders. ‘Christmas and Valentine’s Day are complicated … at least their origins are. They’re not nearly as straightforward as the average bloke on the street may imagine.’

‘They were pagan festivals once, weren’t they?’ Gemma said.

‘In the dim and distant past, yeah. What’re you suggesting, ma’am? Human sacrifices?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied. ‘We obviously need to investigate the backgrounds of these events. See if there are any links.’

‘There are no
obvious
rituals here,’ Gary Quinnell pointed out. He was the only one among them who regularly attended Church services, so his opinion on this was likely to be valid. ‘These deaths look more like nasty jokes to me, ma’am. But if there is a kind of quasi-religious thing going on … could it be, I dunno, a satanic cult?’

Garrickson snorted. ‘I can just hear the reaction of the trendy left if we start hassling Satanists. Even that lot have rights these days, you know.’

‘I reckon it’s just shock and awe,’ Charlie Finnegan said. He was a lean, efficient-looking character, always well suited, but with black, slicked-back hair and crafty, vaguely untrustworthy good looks. One positive aspect of his scornful personality was that he called things the way he saw them. ‘We got it right the first time. He’s just trying to blow our minds with the weirdness of it.’

‘Presumably lines of enquiry have already been generated, ma’am?’ Kane asked.

‘Several persons of interest were fingered before we realised these cases were linked,’ Gemma replied. ‘For various reasons all were eventually disregarded by the original investigation teams. However, DCI Garrickson and I will personally be re-evaluating each one of them. We’ll also be going through all existing witness statements with a fine-tooth comb. We have a few other possibilities – not exactly MLOEs, but half-formed leads, which we’ll need to assess carefully before they go into the policy file.’

‘Physical evidence?’ Finnegan asked.

‘Not so far,’ Gemma replied.

‘CCTV?’ Kane suggested.

‘There, we may have lucked in,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty apparent that at least two of the victims – the young couple murdered on the West Pennine Moors – were stalked beforehand. Maybe all of them were. I don’t believe Ernest Shapiro and Barry Butterfield were simply jumped on because they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. While they may have been targets of convenience – a homeless tramp, a wino looking for a drink – I think they were selected first and then lured. The original investigation teams thought the same and were in the process of attempting to plot all the APs’ final movements with footage from various cameras – nightclubs, pubs, street-corners, bus shelters. Nothing obvious has come to light so far, but there’s still quite a bit to go through.’

‘And there’s absolutely no link between any of the APs?’ Gary Quinnell asked.

‘None that we’ve been able to establish to date,’ Garrickson said, climbing down from the table where he’d been perched. ‘And before we waste any more time visiting ground that’s already covered in the briefing notes, local informants have provided us with no leads as yet and no suspects have been identified purely on the basis of
modus operandi
, though that’s an area we can keep looking at as we widen the net. Likewise, there’s nothing to suggest these offences have been disguised as something they aren’t. In no case is there indication of robbery or indecent assault …’

‘No, they’re thrill-kills,’ Heck said.

Garrickson, perhaps not used to being interrupted, gave him a long, measured glance.

‘This is not routine criminality,’ Heck added. ‘Far from it. For some reason unknown, the perp is gaining immense satisfaction from staging these … elaborate celebrations.’

‘Celebrations?’ Shawna said.

‘That’s what he’s doing … he’s celebrating feast days. But he’s going to an awful lot of trouble to do it. In my opinion, the event is the main thing. The victims are almost incidental. From what we’re seeing so far, status is unimportant, age is unimportant, gender is unimportant. It’s like they’re just … well, stage-props.’

Garrickson looked sceptical. ‘The centre-piece of each of these “events” … as you call them, sergeant, is a cold, premeditated murder. I think we can assume these victims mean a bit more to him than stage-props.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, sir,’ Heck replied. ‘It’s important to him that they bleed and scream. But there’s more going on here than cruelty for its own sake.’

‘Okay …’ Gemma put in. ‘We can theorise as much as we want in due course. In the meantime, let’s discuss practicalities. We have three separate murder scenes, so I propose to set up three Incident Rooms with the MIR at Bolton Police Station, as that’s our most central location. The other two will be at Preston and Leeds City Centre, though obviously we’ll stay in touch through video-conference and MIRWeb. Gold Command will operate from here at the Yard …’

There were cheers. No one wanted some pompous OIOC with ivory tower notions about ‘budgetary constraints’ or ‘community trust’ getting in the way.

‘Silver Command,’ Gemma added, ‘that’s me and DCI Garrickson, will be based at the MIR and will focus initially on the double murder in Bolton. DCI Garrickson will also action-manage the enquiry overall. We’re all going to have to double-hat on this one, ladies and gents. Bronze Command is comprised as follows: DI Kane – DSIO Leeds; DI Brunwick – DSIO Preston. Most of you haven’t met her yet, but Claire Moody is now our Media Liaison Officer.’

Claire, who was standing to one side, nodded as everyone focused on her.

‘Claire hasn’t had time to assemble her department yet, so for the time being she’ll be working with me to devise a full media strategy,’ Gemma said. ‘The rest of you, primary responsibilities are outlined in the briefing notes, and are as follows …’

There was a slow bustle in the room as, one by one, the team members were assigned their roles and duties; laptops snapped shut, documents were stuffed into briefcases. When Gemma received a call on her mobile, she stepped through into a side office, and the meeting broke up properly, everyone relaxing and chatting loudly.

Heck sat at his desk and began to sort his paperwork. Some of it he’d need to take north with him – pending jobs which simply wouldn’t wait. He lifted one more item from his drawer and placed it with the stuff to go. It was a thick, leather-bound ledger, so old and well-thumbed that sticky tape had been used to bind its fraying edges. When he opened it, it was half-filled with photographs of faces – some new, others old and creased. Four more were now added: the headshots of the victims in the Operation Festival brief. He slipped them into the back of the scrapbook rather than gumming them in place. There was no possibility he could classify these as permanent additions yet.

‘Hi,’ said a voice.

Heck glanced up, seeing that Claire had appeared at his shoulder. She peeked curiously at the scrapbook, which he promptly closed.

‘So,’ she added. ‘I guess this is the real deal?’ Given the seriousness of the task ahead, she looked amazingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

‘And you thought you were in at the deep end yesterday,’ he replied. ‘How do you feel now?’

‘Well … it’s exciting.’

Heck was surprised by that, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. During breakfast the previous day, Claire had cheered up considerably, taking notice when he’d advised her that she would from this point on be an integral part of major criminal investigations, and as such to view herself as a soldier in the war between good and evil. She’d smiled at that, and he’d smiled too, saying that he wasn’t being totally serious with that latter comment, but that it sometimes helped if you regarded these victims of crime as the reason why you did your job, as the impetus behind your work.

‘These are the people we go the extra mile for,’ he’d said. ‘And others like them … who may, because of our efforts, avoid the same fate.’

She’d smiled again at that, liking what she’d heard. Afterwards she’d discussed the murders in Kent with him, keenly, professionally.

‘I hope I didn’t seem too wimpish yesterday,’ Claire now said. ‘The way I reacted to those crime scene photos.’

‘There’s nothing wimpish about being upset by murder.’

‘That egg sarnie you bought me … just what the doctor ordered, as it turned out.’

‘It’s not normally an antidote for a queasy stomach, but whatever works. So … you’re happy?’

‘Well … I’m clearly on a learning curve. A steep one.’

He shrugged. ‘Hell, so are the rest of us.’

‘Yeah, but I think you guys have a bit of a head start. I mean …’ She flipped through the briefing notes. ‘I’ve got an idea what an Exhibits Officer does, but Disclosure Officer? H-2-H Co-ordinator?’

‘Don’t worry, you’ll pick it all up as you go along.’

‘According to this, you are “Minister Without Portfolio”?’ She raised a querying eyebrow.

Heck smiled. ‘That’s a kind of unofficial title. Means I haven’t got a specified role … more a roving commission. I keep a working knowledge of the enquiry overall and fill in where I’m needed. Not every SIO would go for it, but Gemma seems to think it works.’

‘Okay everyone, listen up!’ Gemma shouted as she came back in.

The room fell silent again.

‘As you all know, we’ve lost the Golden Hour advantage. But let’s not regard this as a problem. It may give us the opportunity to create some slow time, allow us to take stock rather than go at this thing like a bull at a gate. For this reason, while I expect you all to make your own way to your designated command posts, the Easter weekend is about to commence, so that gives us a couple of days to get our crap together. But we start officially on Bank Holiday Monday morning, when I want everyone reporting in by seven sharp. Am I clear?’

There were mumbles in the affirmative.

‘Any further questions?’ she said.

‘I’ve got one, ma’am,’ Shawna spoke up. ‘Why has this case been assigned exclusively to SCU?’

The team listened with interest. It was a rare event these days when they were all sent out together.

Gemma half-smiled, as if she’d anticipated this query and had not been looking forward to it. ‘Owing to the disparate geographic locations, this enquiry can’t fall under any single force’s jurisdiction. Which makes it ideal for the Serial Crimes Unit. But …’ and she sighed, ‘in reality, it’s a case of the fewer officers involved, the better. The brass were quite clear. They want this kept in-house. So far, the public and press aren’t aware that we’ve got another series to deal with. And that’s the way we want it to stay.’

‘We’ll obviously be using some local troops when we get out into the sticks,’ Garrickson added. ‘But we’ve got to keep a tight bloody rein on it. We can’t have horror stories running the length of the country. We can’t have panic in the streets and public disorder. Not again. The M1 enquiry was a disaster in that regard. Made SCU look the biggest idiots since Charley Farley and Piggy Malone.’

Gemma didn’t flinch when Garrickson said this, but Heck couldn’t imagine she wouldn’t be irked to hear such statements from an outsider.

‘In this respect, Operation Festival is under a news blackout,’ she said. ‘That means every aspect of it is embargoed. I’m serious, people. You don’t talk to
anyone
about this. Neither friends nor loved ones. And all contacts with the press –
all
of them – are to be conducted through Claire Moody. Look … we might as well face facts. Police cuts are the in-thing at present, and the Home Office is watching SCU. Units like ours cost a lot of money, and after the M1 enquiry people are wondering if that investment’s been worth it. Joe Wullerton reckons the best way we can prove we are is to get out into the field as a self-contained unit and take down some bad guys. And I agree with him. It’s in all our interests to make this work.’

She paused to let that sink in.

‘There’s one other thing.’ Her tone now changed; softened, yet at the same time seemed to intensify. Briefly, her penetrating blue eyes fixed on each and every one of them. ‘I want you to put all sensational aspects of this case out of your mind. Let’s remember that, no matter how grotesquely the assailant has dressed it up, each one of these homicides is a human tragedy, which has had and will continue to have devastating repercussions for countless people above and beyond those whose lives have actually been taken. I’ll say what I always say at times like this … we can’t bring these victims back or undo the torture they suffered. But as the investigating police team we are morally and professionally obliged to put the one responsible for this in front of a court. There is no greater duty. No one in the world at this moment has a more vital job when it comes to the safety and security of families, communities, the country where we live as a whole. You all know what you have to do, ladies and gents – so get out there and do it.’

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