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

‘Adam, I’ll be with you in fifteen minutes to have a look at the physical evidence you’ve got.’

Twenty minutes later, they approached headquarters. Judd pointed. ‘Look!’

‘Sod it!’

He glared at the half a dozen heavily-clad, loitering figures around the entrance. ‘Zero eye contact, Judd.’

‘I know.’

Barely slowing, he drove between the gates and parked close to the building’s entrance, ignoring shouts of his name. They went inside. Brophy was in reception looking edgy, his eyes on the gathering outside.

‘You’ve seen them?’

‘Sir.’

‘Get out there now and tell them you’re SIO of the Lawrence investigation. Give them nothing else. No names. No details.’

‘I’ll be holding a press conference at some point, sir, but right now it might be best if you speak to them. Given the gravity of the case.’ His eyes drifted over Brophy’s uniform. ‘They like a bit of brass.’

Having searched the words for slights and not locating any, Brophy tugged at his uniform jacket. ‘You’re right. I’ll keep it to one brief announcement.’ He eyed Watts. ‘With more to come soon.’

Inside the forensics department on the third floor Watts and Judd pored over a report, Adam talking them through it.

‘There were no useful fingerprints on the outside of the car. Same story for footprints. The ground around the car was too damp, too rough. No usable shoe prints inside, but a lot of fingerprints, as you might expect. They’ll all be examined. It’s likely that most belong to the victims, but we might get lucky.’ He caught Watts’ look. ‘I know. Always a dream of mine at this stage of an investigation.’

‘How often does your dream come true?’

‘Not as often as I’d like.’

Adam reached his gloved hand inside a clear evidence bag, carefully removed the watch Watts had seen the previous night. He placed it on a small, round pad, where it sat, mired with dark red stains. ‘Citizen. Not high-end, but a good make and worth taking. Or so the Lawrences’ attacker must have thought, prior to dropping it and it landing just beneath the car. It belonged to the husband, Michael Lawrence.’

Judd was frowning at it. ‘How can you be sure?’

Adam reached for it, turned it over.

She read aloud, ‘“To our darling son. Happy 21st. Mum and Dad.”’

‘We got nothing useful from the smudged partial on the face but we’re testing it for DNA. We don’t know what went down during the shootings, but it’s possible the gunman sustained an injury.’ He reached inside a shallow plastic container, brought out a small, lozenge-shaped item, flattened at one end. ‘The bullet recovered from the driver’s sun visor. No prints. Having seen the vehicle, I’d say it was fired from the rear seat, but that needs verification. When Dr Chong is back, I’ll be asking her to assist with that, just to be sure.’ He reached for another container. ‘This is the bullet casing found on the car’s rear floor. Again, no prints. Whoever shot this couple has some basic savvy.’

Watts considered Adam’s information alongside what he himself knew of young impulsive, antisocial types. Forethought rarely coexisted with impulsivity. He couldn’t say never. ‘Is the bullet telling us anything about the gun?’

‘Not yet. We’ll be taking expert advice on that. There’s still a lot of work to do on the car, but that’s all we have, so far.’ He handed Watts a bulky manila envelope. ‘Forensic report, plus copies of all scene photos.’

Back in Watts’ office, Judd went directly to the Smartboard, powered it up, took a red pen and began listing the forensic detail supplied by Adam. ‘When is Dr Chong back?’

‘The weekend. She’ll be in on Monday.’

She glanced back at him. ‘Are you missing her, Sarge?’

In the process of clearing the table of everything except the six carjacking files and the case notes he’d made at the scene, he looked up at her.

‘One more question like that and I’ll personally see to it that you’re back at Tally Ho for the next six months.’

She grinned. ‘Got it. I went through a lot of carjacking files when I worked on some recent cases. I don’t recall one which involved somebody being shot.’

‘There’s a first for everything.’ He looked around, not finding what he was hoping for. ‘That reminds me.’

He reached for the phone, rang the squad room. ‘Is Reynolds there?’ He waited. ‘Anything on the search I requested, Reynolds?’ He listened, nodded. ‘Thanks.’ He put down the phone. ‘No carjackings involving a firearm or replica in the last decade. Depending on how desperate we get, I might tell him to go further back.’

He reached across for the envelope Adam had given him, opened it, slid out sharp-focused black and white images. Judd came to where he was standing. He scrutinized each one, passed it to her. Having looked at those of both victims, she laid them on the table, transferred her attention to others of the general scene.

‘I see what you mean about the area. It’s gone straight to the top of my avoid list.’

‘Which is unfortunate, Judd, because that’s where we’re going now. To get a closer look while there’s still some daylight.’

FIVE

Tuesday 4 December. 2.30 p.m.

His head full of the case, he watched Judd pick her way across the open area, avoiding holes and chunks of crumbling concrete. She looked up. ‘This is grim! No houses, no apartments and you wouldn’t want to live here anyway, because you’d probably be mugged or worse on your way—’

‘Judd.’

‘I know. Stop talking.’

Taking more careful steps, avoiding water-filled holes and scattered rubble, she came back to him. ‘More to the point, how did a couple like the Lawrences end up here?’

‘They would have hit all the traffic diversions and single-file access I did last night, similar to those we just came through. They must have taken a wrong turn. I know inner Birmingham, but it took me all my time to find my way. Even the ambulance had its work cut out getting here through the traffic.’

‘Where were they going, the Lawrences?’

‘Home to Moseley, according to Mike Lawrence’s mother. She’s confirmed