When the Evil Waits by M Lee (i want to read a book .txt) 📗

sitting in the far corner. She didn’t wave back.

Chrissy Wright, the department’s civilian researcher, popped up next to him. Her right leg was in a cast and a bandage on her right arm, but her Manchester City scarf was still around her neck. ‘Welcome back, Ridpath, great to see you again.’

‘What happened, Chrissy? Looks like you were in the wars?’

‘Knocked over crossing the street. My head was in the investigation, not on what I was doing. First day back myself.’

DCI Paul Turnbull grunted as he passed Ridpath, clapping his hands loudly. ‘Get to your seats. I don’t want to waste too much time on this meeting, we’ve got a bloody killer to catch.’

The boss, Detective Superintendent Claire Trent, joined him at the front, carefully maintaining her social distance from Turnbull. Ridpath couldn’t work out whether this was because of the virus or something else.

The DCI began the meeting. ‘Right, we have a lot to get through and even more to do.’

Claire Trent coughed and Turnbull stopped speaking. ‘I’d like to say a few words if I can, Paul.’

‘Of course, boss.’ He stepped back a pace, allowing Claire Trent to come forward.

‘A couple of announcements. We are incredibly busy at the moment, with more investigations than we can deal with and some people off sick. Manchester was placed in lockdown on 31 July. The chief constable will be issuing instructions, as he did in March, on how we are to police this new situation. Despite the new regulations, we’re not going to let the ball drop in any of our investigations. There will be no sloppiness in any of our work. Whether it’s the killer of the child found on Chorlton Ees or the stabbing in Rochdale or the post office robberies, we will follow up on every lead, gathering evidence as we always do. We will have one focus: apprehending the men who perpetrated these crimes. Do you understand me?’

A chorused reply of ‘Yes, boss’ and ‘Right, guvnor.’

‘I would also like to welcome back two people to the MIT fold. First, I notice we have DI Thomas Ridpath who has been certified fit for duty again.’

All eyes were on him. Everyone knew what had happened to Polly.

‘Welcome back, Ridpath. He will be returning to his old role of coroner’s officer liaising with MIT. He will be reporting directly to me.’

A wary glance from Turnbull to his boss. It was obviously news to him.

Claire Trent continued on. ‘Plus we have Chrissy back after her failed wrestling match with a two-ton truck. Good to see you again, Chrissy.’

The researcher pointed to her leg. ‘If I hear any jokes from you lot about Hopalong Chrissy, you’ll get a wallop from this.’ She held up her walking stick.

Somebody from the back said quietly, ‘Truck 1, Chrissy O.’

Laughter from the assembled coppers and civilian officers which Turnbull quickly killed by raising his hands. ‘Settle down, people, let’s get started. Harry, where are we on the post office robberies?’

DI Harry Makepeace stood up. He was one of the few surviving members of the old MIT under John Gorman and Charlie Whitworth. Somehow he had managed to keep going by being a diligent copper and just getting on with the work.

‘We got a lead to a gang from Liverpool, boss. We’re liaising with the Scousers to follow up. The last robbery was two weeks ago, but following their MO, we should be due another one soon.’

‘Anything from your confidential informants?’ asked Claire Trent.

‘Not a squeak, guvnor, that’s why we think they’re not from our manor.’

‘Right, keep going, Harry. If you need any help talking to Liverpool, let me know. I made quite a few friends in Merseyside when I was with Cheshire police,’ said Turnbull.

Ridpath laughed to himself. Turnbull was still going on about his time in his previous force, as if the cases in a small county operation could ever compare to working in Manchester.

‘Right, it’s me up next on the Carsley case. We’re following up leads and we have the criminal profiler coming in to deliver his ideas in person this afternoon. His final report is on your desk and we’ve booked your time, guvnor.’

Claire Trent hardly acknowledged the words, staring straight ahead.

‘The photofits we released to the newspapers led to over 3000 leads, some of which are proving extremely useful at narrowing down our suspects. HOLMES 2 has given us a couple of links but nothing substantive. Plus we’ve shaken down the pervs on the Sex Offenders list within a fifty-mile radius, going through their alibis as we speak.’

Claire Trent nodded and spoke softly. ‘The newspapers are all over this case. Luckily the nationals have backed off, finding another bone to gnaw on, but the local papers are still on it like a dog in heat.’

A male voice from the back. ‘I thought it was a bitch in heat, guvnor.’

A few laughs but Claire Trent kept her jaw clenched. ‘If you are referring to Molly Wright, then you are correct, John, she is all over this. But she’s only doing her job. Somebody here, however, is not doing theirs.’ She slowly scanned the assembled officers. ‘Somebody has been feeding her information about the case. If I find out who it was, they won’t be in MIT for long – they won’t even be in the police any more. And if I had my way, they would be sharing a cell with a gang of spice dealers in Strangeways. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes, boss.’

‘Understand I am under pressure from everybody to clear this case up. The mayor, the police and crime commissioner, the chief constable and Ms Wright have all called me this morning and it’s only…’ she checked the time, ‘…nine twenty. But none of that matters. What is far more important is that a young boy has been murdered on our patch. His killer is still at large and could strike again. In fact, according to the initial report from the criminal profiler, he will definitely kill again.’

A silence descended on the