Outside Looking In. Michael Wood

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СКАЧАТЬ did ma’am,’ Rory said putting his hand up. Rory Fleming was like a male version of Adele Kean. It didn’t seem to matter how little sleep he had, he always turned up for work looking fresh and clean in a sharp, fitted suit, perfectly ironed shirt, understated tie and a messy hairstyle that probably took hours to perfect. Was it just Matilda who looked like she’d had five minutes’ sleep in a skip?

      Rory continued. ‘There aren’t many houses around there; just a few cottages. I knocked on them all, although I don’t think they were happy to be woken up. I don’t have anything to report I’m afraid. Nobody heard a thing.’

      ‘How can they not have heard anything? Kevin Hardaker was beaten to a pulp. Surely he screamed. And gunshots aren’t exactly quiet.’

      Sian interrupted. ‘Mr Rainsford said his wife has the TV turned up more loudly than is necessary. She refuses to accept she’s losing her hearing.’

      ‘Mrs Foster next door was at a wedding and didn’t get back home until after we were on the scene,’ Rory read from his notebook. ‘Another cottage is home to Mrs Cliff. She’s recently come out of hospital following hip replacement surgery. She’s on sleeping tablets and slept through the whole thing.’

      ‘Maybe the gunman used a silencer?’ Scott Andrews suggested.

      ‘Oh God, I hope not. A silencer suggests a professional job, a hitman. Let’s not go down that road until we have to. What about Clough Lane itself? Where does it lead?’

      Aaron had stuck a map of the area onto one of the whiteboards. He followed the road with his finger. ‘Well it’s quite a long road, passes a few farms then out into the Peak District.’

      ‘So it’s not the type of road you’d go down if you lived in Sheffield?’ Matilda said, thinking aloud.

      ‘I wouldn’t have thought so.’

      ‘So why would you pull up on Clough Lane late at night?’

      ‘For a shag,’ Rory said unwrapping a KitKat he’d taken out of Sian’s snack drawer.

      ‘Precisely. Help yourself to a KitKat, Rory,’ the rest of the officers sniggered. ‘So, Kevin Hardaker, cheating on his wife, is with his girlfriend, or whoever she is, and they park up on a quiet lane, for what Rory so romantically calls a shag. What happens next?’

      ‘A bloke comes along and kills them?’ Aaron said.

      ‘No. That’s not what happens. If this was a random killing, a drive-by shooting, then that would have happened, but this is more personal. Our killer comes along, drags Kevin Hardaker out of the car, beats him senseless then shoots him. Then he drags our mystery woman out from the front passenger seat and does the same to her. Thinking she’s dead, he leaves. What does this tell us?’

      Matilda looked out at the sea of blank faces staring back at her. To be more accurate, with a reduced team, it was more like a river of blank faces.

      ‘It wasn’t a random killing,’ said Rory, licking melted chocolate from his fingers.

      ‘Go on,’ prompted Matilda.

      ‘Like you said, if this was a drive-by shooting they would have been shot dead where they sat. They weren’t. They were pulled from the car and subjected to a right beating. This was personal. Someone knew they were going to be there, or maybe followed them there, then attacked.’

      ‘Exactly my thinking, Rory.’

      Rory was still only young and had the fresh-face of a skin-cream commercial actor. He also had a vacant expression that wasn’t always comforting while trying to have an in-depth conversation. However, he was an intelligent young man and would make an excellent detective. He just needed to do a bit of growing up.

      ‘So, in a personal attack such as this,’ Matilda continued, ‘who are our most likely suspects?’

      ‘The man’s wife or the woman’s husband,’ Scott spoke up.

      ‘Thank you, Scott. We need to talk to Kevin Hardaker’s wife and the second we find out who our mystery woman is we need to talk to her husband – if she has one.’

      ‘That reminds me,’ Aaron spoke up. ‘I had a call from forensics first thing. They’ve found a mobile phone at the crime scene. It could belong to the woman.’

      A phone rang. Rory answered it, talking quietly.

      ‘Excellent. Give forensics a call and have them do their usual routine on it. I want a copy of all the contacts and text messages, photos, emails, apps used, and whatever else is on there. Now, Scott, what was the name of the FLO last night?’

      ‘Joseph Glass.’

      ‘Right. Give him a call. Ask him to bring Alice in. She needs to make a statement and I want to know everything about their marriage, any money problems, Kevin’s work – the usual. Also, talk to the neighbours, Kevin’s work colleagues, friends. Aaron, can you sort that out?’

      ‘Sure.’

      ‘Sian, what’s happening with Mr Rainsford?’

      Sian looked up from her notebook where she had been making extensive notes. ‘PC Grabowski stayed with them overnight. I called her first thing and he’s actually feeling a lot better after a good night’s sleep. She’s bringing him in after he’s showered.’

      ‘OK. Sian will you interview him and keep me informed?’

      ‘No problem.’

      ‘Thanks. Right, I’m going to have a word with the ACC about getting more people in this room to make it look less like a gathering of the Nick Clegg fan club.’

      ‘Boss,’ Rory called out, putting the phone down, ‘that was a nurse from the hospital I got chatting to last night. The woman is stable, but still critical. There’s evidence she was raped.’

      ACC Valerie Masterson was enjoying breakfast at her desk. Like Matilda, she also had trouble sleeping. Once the phone call had come through about the double shooting the logistics of the case weighed heavily on her mind; this could possibly be the Murder Room’s final investigation.

      Much to the annoyance of her retired husband, Valerie decided to come to work early. She wanted to prepare for the battle with Matilda. Valerie believed her still to be a fragile individual; she had only been back at work four months and in that time she had faced a fight for leadership of the Murder Room, and internal scrutiny of her ability to carry out her duties. There could have been better resumptions to her career.

      The loud knock on the door did not surprise Valerie – she had actually expected it sooner than this. She was tempted to say ‘Come in Matilda,’ but decided against flippancy.

      Matilda burst into the room with all the grace and determination of a charging bull.

      ‘Good morning, Matilda. Coffee?’

      ‘Please.’

      ‘I know why you’re here,’ Valerie began, her back to Matilda as she prepared the coffees, ‘I need you to listen to what I have to say first before you erupt.’

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