Devil in the Detail by A.J. Cross (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

Kumar pointed. ‘That’s them, heading further into the inner city.’

‘Stop it there.’

Watts stared at the scene, then up at the on-screen time: 20.50 hours. ‘Run it on.’ The footage continued. ‘There’s already a high volume of traffic. It looks to me like they’re heading home, via the inner city.’ The Toyota disappeared on a screen change. ‘If their car is picked up again, we’re looking for something, anything which might seem untoward. Anything which suggests somebody was taking an interest in the Lawrences’ car, maybe following it, getting too close, tailgating, flashing his lights.’ He pointed to the top-right scene. ‘Here it is at 20.58.’ Officers leant forward, shoulders hunched, eyes fixed on the dark-coloured Toyota moving slowly, making a right-hand turn.

Watts pointed again. ‘They’re heading in the general direction of Snow Hill and a traffic island which would lead them in the direction of Moseley and home.’

The Lawrences’ car disappeared from the screen. They waited. It reappeared at 21.04. Watts jabbed at the screen. ‘See that? They’ve taken the wrong exit from the island, now going in the wrong direction.’ They scoured the quartered screen. No Toyota. ‘Run it on, Kumar. See if it reappears.’

It didn’t.

Watts straightened. Officers flexed their shoulders. He stared at the now blank screen. ‘They were heading straight for the roadworks and Forge Street. Like you said, the nine thirty shots do seem a little early to be connected to the Lawrence shootings. The emergency call was received at ten thirty-five p.m.’ He moved to the front of the room. ‘Did anybody see anything remotely interesting involving the Lawrences’ vehicle and any other?’

Judd broke the silence. ‘Something could have occurred once they were no longer within CCTV range. Perhaps somebody thought the Lawrences’ car did something, like cutting them up, got really annoyed and followed them.’

‘True. I contacted Traffic but they couldn’t help. Their interest is in specific accidents, and there was no damage to the Lawrences’ car when it was found, except for the smashed window which we know happened at Forge Street.’

Traynor paced. ‘Shots heard at around nine thirty p.m., emergency call logged at ten thirty-five.’ He turned to Watts. ‘You were at the scene soon after.’

‘Yes. I saw both victims before they were removed. It was Mrs Lawrence who made the call, but by the time I got there both of them were unconscious. I didn’t know it, but Mike Lawrence was dying.’

He turned to the head of forensics who had come into the room a couple of minutes earlier. ‘Adam, can you confirm the road worthiness of the Lawrences’ Toyota?’

‘Our examination showed the bodywork to be well-maintained with no indication of damage. The fingerprint examination of it yielded only the Lawrences’ own.’ Officers stretched, sighed, some looking dispirited.

‘It’s early days,’ advised Watts. ‘Save the morose looks.’

‘Given Mrs Lawrence’s situation, I’m assuming that she hasn’t been spoken to yet,’ said Traynor.

‘Judd spoke to her very briefly earlier today and she’s got a written record of what was said. It isn’t much.’ He reached for the sheet Judd was holding out to him, passed it to Traynor. ‘I’m in daily contact with the hospital as to her progress. As soon as there’s an indication that she’s improving I’ll be asking you to intro yourself to her.’

‘Let me know when.’

Watts looked at each of his officers. ‘We know the difficulties we’re facing here. I’ll be issuing specific assignments. Meanwhile, get really familiar with the facts. If anybody comes up with an idea, a theory, you know where I am.’

Traynor raised his hand to all in the room and headed to the door and out. Miller quickly followed. Watts tracked her, saw her look up at him, saw Traynor’s face, pleasant in response as he turned and disappeared from view. He left the room, thinking back to when he and Traynor had worked together back in the summer. Despite all that had been said during the briefing, his spirits rose as he thought how focused Traynor was now, compared to back then.

He came into his office to find Judd already there. ‘I’m parched. Stick the kettle on.’ Getting no response, he looked at her. ‘What’s up?’

‘It was really sad, watching them drive along, both totally unaware of what was going to happen.’

He went to the kettle, switched it on. ‘A word of advice, Judd. Forget the emotional side. Stick to the facts. We’ve now got them on that journey. It’s more than a lot of homicide investigations have at this stage.’ He spooned coffee, then stared down at the two mugs. ‘I’ve wondered myself how they felt during that drive lost through that traffic and the added chaos of the roadworks only to meet even worse chaos, more than they could ever have anticipated.’

Judd eyed him. ‘Is that part of the “facts” you just told me to stick to?’

He poured boiling water. ‘What’s looking increasingly like fact to me is how the Lawrences probably appeared to an opportunistic type watching them from, say, the time they left that restaurant, who summed them up as affluent. If he followed them on their journey into the inner city, he might have observed a bit more about them: “affluent-plus-lost”. If that’s anything like what happened, he would have seen it as his Christmas arriving early.’

‘Opportunistic and armed?’

‘Yes, Judd. Watch the news on the box often enough and it’ll seem like the world and his granny has a weapon. There’s a lot of guns in every city. Birmingham’s no exception.’

The door opened and Jones came inside. ‘I’ve just sent you our notes on the victim interviews relating to the carjackings, Sarge.’ Seeing Watts turn to the computer, he said, ‘Nothing of interest, apart from the one you and Judd visited.’ He grinned across at her. She ignored him. ‘None of the other five could describe their attacker, or referred to seeing any kind of weapon.’

‘No reference to a lisp?’

‘No.’

Watts thought about it. ‘A male with any kind of speech problem?’

‘None of the five confirmed it.’ Jones