Chapter 78
The get-together at the Jonesesā house had continued until late, and it was Easter Sunday, so the office was quieter than usual. But today was the first Sunday that Freddie Aspinall would not be adding to his dreadful tally or depositing the body of a previous victim.
News of Freddie Aspinallās suicide still dominated the headlines, with the Middlesbury Reporter getting in some sly digs about the effectiveness of the investigation.
āThe Video Analysis Unit have a potential sighting of Freddie Aspinall outside the front entrance of Bristol Parkway train station the day that Charley Gibsonās car was abandoned,ā said Richardson. Sitting beside her ever-present bottle of water was a cup of coffee and a blister pack of aspirin.
She pointed at her screen. āThis is a small shop selling travel accessories, including luggage. Unfortunately, the angle is poor and the person we believe to be Aspinall is wearing a baggy hoodie and a baseball cap, and keeps his head down.ā
A large man wearing a backpack entered the shop.
āAnnoyingly, the shopās own footage from this date was erased a day before the Transport Police requested it, so we have nothing from inside.ā She smothered a yawn as she fast-forwarded four minutes. The same man emerged, head still down, carrying a large electric-blue suitcase.
āWe have him going back up the street, still no face shots, then he disappears for another six minutes.ā She ran the video at full speed again. āWe believe this is him again.ā
The man she pointed at was the same size and build, but his hoodie was a different colour, as was the baseball cap. But the electric-blue suitcase was clearly the one bought minutes earlier.
āThat case is easily big enough for a fold-up bicycle,ā she said.
āAny idea where he goes next?ā asked Warren, fighting not to yawn himself, now Richardson had set the ball rolling.
āThey are collating the video now. We should be able to follow him across the platforms and work out which train he catches. We may even get some video from inside the carriage.ā
āThatās great work,ā said Warren. āI donāt think itād stand up to cross-examination in court, but fortunately, there isnāt going to be a trial.ā
āHutch, see if the Aspinallsā FLO can persuade them to attend a final interview. That blue suitcase is another item we havenāt recovered. If he did have some other place he stashed things, we need to know about it. And whilst youāre at it, set up some more interviews with his workmates; see what else they remember.ā
Returning to his office, he was snagged by Janice. āSir, I have the editor of the Middlesbury Reporter on the line.ā
Warren gave a dismissive snort. āTell him to speak to the Press Office. If he thinks heās going to get anything from me that is printable, he has another thing coming.ā
Entering his office, he snagged his mug off the desk, before heading back out. It was mid-morning and he was going to need coffee and custard creams to sustain him until he went home for lunch.
āHe says itās urgent,ā said Janice. āHe sounds worried.ā
Warren gave a sigh. āPut him through to my phone.ā
He took a moment to compose himself before picking up the handset. The last thing he needed was an ill-tempered quote splashed across the Reporterās website.
Three minutes later, he was heading to Graysonās office.
* * *
āTell me again why I should give a shit that Marcia Cooper isnāt answering her phone?ā said Grayson. The superintendent wasnāt usually a big drinker, but Warren had all but poured him into the taxi that had taken him home after the party. āKick it over to Missing Persons,ā he instructed.
āI already have,ā said Warren. āBut he says that she was supposed to be meeting an anonymous source who promised to spill the inside story on our investigation. She was really excited; apparently, they hinted there was lots to tell, whatever that means.ā
Grayson groaned. āGreat, just what we need. But if this scrote is determined to keep their identity secret, then they probably insisted that she turned her phone off.ā
āThey have a strict policy that reporters meeting sources alone should do so in a public place and keep their phones on. They have tracking software installed on all of their handsets.ā
āSensible,ā said Grayson. āMight she have disobeyed that rule?ā
āPerhaps, but the meeting was scheduled for over three hours ago.ā
āAny idea where they were supposed to meet?ā
āMcDonaldās on the Copperston Road Roundabout. The GPS recorded her handset as arriving at 07.43, for an eight a.m. meeting. It stopped transmitting two minutes later.ā
āThey must have CCTV of the car park,ā said Grayson. āWell, if somebody is bad-mouthing us to the press, I want to know who they are. Iāll string them up by their bollocks.ā He reached for his phone. āI think we have sufficient concern about her safety to justify a warrant for her phone records and real-time location tracking, wouldnāt you agree?ā
āIād say so.ā
* * *
āIf the editor of the Middlesbury Reporter had called us sooner, we might have made it in time for breakfast,ā said Ruskin as he and Hardwick entered the McDonaldās takeaway. āI could murder a McMuffin right now.ā
Flashing his warrant card, he introduced himself to the duty manager.
The restaurant had both drive-through and seating facilities, and so the two officers divided the bank of surveillance cameras between them, with Hardwick focusing on the exterior and Ruskin on the interior. They knew from the GPS on Marcia Cooperās phone what time she arrived, and so started from that time point.
āI have her entering the car park exactly when expected,ā said Hardwick. āDamn, it looks as though sheās parked on the far side of the car park, out of sight of the cameras.ā
āStill no sign of her entering the seating area,ā said Ruskin a few moments later.
āWhoa, there she goes,ā said Hardwick. āHer carās leaving already.ā She looked at the timestamp. āThatās just over six minutes sheās been here. The meeting wasnāt even scheduled to start until eight.ā
āCould she have received a text?ā suggested Ruskin. āShe could have been using a burner phone.ā
āMaybe. Or perhaps it was just a drop-off? A folder through the car window.ā
āSo why is her phone still off?ā
āSomething doesnāt smell right,ā said Hardwick. āIām going to call Rachel and Mags.ā
* * *
āI have no sightings of her car on ANPR,ā said Richardson when the conference call connected. āWherever she went, it wasnāt by an arterial route or through the centre of town.ā
āIf she was using a burner, could you identify it?ā asked Ruskin.
āTechnically yes,ā replied Pymm. āI could request a cell mast download of every handset that has connected to the nearest tower, but thatās going to capture dozens, perhaps hundreds of innocent users. I can tell you right now we arenāt even close to justifying such a warrant.ā
āI take your point,ā said Hardwick. āFor all we know she might be doing an in-depth interview with somebody who is giving her the scoop of a lifetime. But if she is in any danger, then by the time we prove it, it could be too late.ā
āI can request that the phone companies retain the information,ā said Pymm. āThat way thereās no delay if we do get a warrant.ā
āIāll arrange for somebody to recover the CCTV footage for the Video Analysis Unit,ā said Richardson. āBut in the meantime, keep on looking. If she did meet her source there, then thereās a chance theyāre on camera. Run it for an hour or so each side of when she arrived to see if anyone interesting pops up. Log any licence plates that you see.ā
Hardwick hung up and turned to Ruskin. āLooks like weāre here for the foreseeable. Thereās no way I can face that without coffee.ā
Chapter 79
āSorry about that,ā said Hutchinson, returning to the gathering in the centre of the office. Warren was passing around a bag of doughnuts. āThat was the FLO for the Aspinalls. Heās at their hotel, since he wasnāt getting any answer when he phoned them.ā
With Freddie Aspinall dead, and his wife seemingly in denial, that wasnāt a huge surprise. āMaybe theyāve turned off their phones?ā Warren suggested.
āWell thatās just it. Heās standing outside Patricia Aspinallās room, and heās convinced he can hear a phone ringing inside. Thereās no response to knocking on either her or Spencerās door.ā
āThat sounds like a welfare issue,ā said Warren. āTell him to go and ask for the manager to let him in.ā
He turned back to the briefing. āWhat do we still need answers for?ā
Although there wouldnāt be a trial, separate inquests would be held into each of Aspinallās victims, and they owed it to their loved ones to make sure that the man responsible for their deaths would be recorded as such, even if he was now beyond justice.
āIām trying to pin down if he was absent from work the day Charley Gibsonās car was driven down to Gloucestershire,ā said Hutchinson. āThey were on a job, but it was over two months ago, and nobody can remember if they saw him.ā
āSpeak to the client,ā said Warren, distracted momentarily by his mobile phone buzzing in his pocket. He ignored it; heād check his voicemail when he had a moment.
āWhat else?ā
The phone stopped. Almost immediately, it started again.
āSorry,ā he said, ālet me deal with this.ā
He stepped away from the desk and pulled it out. Susan. He felt his gut tighten. His wife was a schoolteacher ā she knew better than most how difficult it was to answer the phone during work hours. Normally she just left a message. Accepting the call, he forced a positive note into his voice. āHi, sweetheart, everything OK?ā
āIām bleeding, Warren.ā
His blood ran cold.
No, this canāt be happening again. When theyād lost the twins, it had nearly broken them, and it had taken over a year before they had been ready to start trying again. This time, they were farther along, and only recently had Warren allowed himself to start believing this time would be different.
āWhere are you?ā he asked, his voice so calm it was as if somebody else was speaking.
āIām at home.ā She gave a little gasp. āPlease hurry.ā
āHave you called an ambulance?ā Everyone around him had fallen silent.
āThey said itās not an emergency. Iāll have to wait for one.ā There was a fear in her voice that he couldnāt remember hearing before.
He could see Sutton mouthing āGo!ā at him.
āHold tight, Iāll be home as soon as I can.ā
āPlease hurry,ā she said, ending the call. Warren stood for a moment staring at the silent handset, dazed.
āDo you want me to drive you?ā asked Sutton.
āNo, Iāll be OK,ā managed Warren. Richardson appeared beside him, pushing his suit jacket into his hand.
āWeāve got everything covered,ā said Sutton. āGo and be with Susan.ā
Not trusting himself to do more than nod his thanks, Warren took off for the stairs at a fast jog.
Sutton collapsed into his chair. āShit,ā he said quietly.
* * *
āCome on, pick up,ā Warren urged Susan, as he voice-dialled her mobile again. Once more, it went straight to voicemail. She must be using it; was she speaking to the hospital?
āCall home phone,ā he instructed the carās hands-free kit.
The landline started ringing. āPick up, pick up, pick up,ā he repeated quietly, as he navigated a roundabout, his tyres squealing. The phone eventually cut to voicemail.
āDamn it!ā he swore, thumping the steering wheel.
Breathe, he ordered himself, deliberately easing off the accelerator; he would be no use to Susan if he wrapped the car around a lamppost.
* * *
Karen Hardwick stared at the split-screen CCTV monitor, trying to ignore the steadily mounting throb in her temples. The source couldnāt have picked a better time for a covert rendezvous, with a steady stream of vehicles entering through the main entrance. She noted each vehicle registration, the time that it entered and exited, and whether it went to the drive-through or the car park.
The VAU had specialist software that could do this far quicker than she could, but it would take time for someone to arrive and retrieve the data, return it to the unit down in Welwyn, and upload it in a usable format; far better that she and Ruskin had a quick look for anything obvious before they arrived.
She had soon got into a rhythm, splitting her focus between the four different cameras, but her eyes were already feeling dry. Beside her, Ruskin stared unblinking at the faces of customers entering the restaurant. He thought it unlikely that the informant would have gone to all the effort of concealing their identity, only to enter a public restaurant for a coffee and a pastry, but there were also customer toilets inside.
Squashed as they were in the cramped office, Ruskin felt Hardwick stiffen beside him.
āWhat have you got?ā
She rewound the footage a few seconds. āThere, see that?ā
Ruskin squinted ...
